#the winter soldier x ps reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deliciousangelfestival · 1 year ago

Note

You can totally ignore my idea lol but what about a fluffy/angsty fic about Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes being turned into a baby/toddler by Tony on accident. But because they are babies they just want to be around and held by “Y/N” and get mad or throw a cute tantrum from lack of attention or if someone tries to hit on their “Y/N”. You can ignore this if it sounds idk weird or dumb lol but I thought it would be cute like they can’t hold back there affection for them while in baby form and when they turn back they are like well shit.. lmao

(PS: the fanart here is from Alexa_520 on Twitter I’m not sure if she has a tumblr but in case you or anyone wants to see it for yourself)

This is so cute!!!

Thank you for the idea. Here it goes. The story has little angst a bit.

Zero Crush.

Summary: Y/N was on her way to go out for her day off. However, her plan got interrupted because the AI told her something at the lab. You almost lose your mind seeing both of your bosses turn into babies.

And now, she has to watch them. Y/N is okay with kids, but the problem is she has a little crush towards Captain America and The Winter Soldier.

Character: Steve Rogers x platonic!reader, Bucky Barnes x platonic!reader

Warning: If you squint a bit, there’s a little angst.

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

Drawing of baby Steve and Rogers : Drawing 1, Drawing 2, Drawing 3

It's been a long time for Steve and Bucky to cry, even for crying their heart out to release all their feelings through tears.

“Waaaaa!”

“Aah…Ahh!”

The rest of the Avengers rubbed their eyes. They couldn't believe the strongest soldiers standing tall before, were shorter than them.

Steve and Bucky have turned into babies. They were standing too close to Tony and Bruce's new invention.

The high IQ bros try to copy the Pym-particles to shrink and increase an object.

"What kind of machine is that, Tony?!" Natasha pushed Tony away while he was still in shock.

"I'm trying to make a quantum machine like Ant-man. Look, it works!!! The box got small.” Tony pointed at the test object.

"Yeah, it’s obvious the zone needs to get fixed." Natasha carried Bucky to her arm. At the same time, Steve was taken by Clint. Steve wants to push Clint away because he stinks.

Bucky did the same towards Natasha; her perfume was too strong. Natasha couldn't help it since she just returned from her mission, and Clint was training when Tony called him.

Tony shook his head. "If Steve and Bucky didn't stand near the test object, they wouldn't get transformed."

Natasha wants to punch him. "You..!!"

All the adults are pointing at each other. At the same time, Steve and Bucky were confused. Since they're shorter than everyone and the mood in the room doesn't feel good, it makes them uncomfortable.

"Uuh…"

All of them stop arguing because they suddenly hear a sobbing voice.

"Hey, guys? Is everything alright?" You were preparing to go out since today is your day off. Before putting on sunscreen, F.R.I.D.A.Y informed you that something happened at the lab.

Nobody answered you, but from their face, you could say they were nervous.

Then you saw that Natasha and Clint have a baby in their arms.

"Ooh, so cute. Clint, you have a twin? Congrats." You know Clint is a family man, but it’s new for him to bring his kids to the headquarters.

Clint chuckled. "Y/N, you don't recognise him?"

"Huh?"

After he said that, you did notice something that felt familiar, but you can tell what it was. Blond hair, blue eyes, straight nose. Then you turn to Natasha. The baby has black hair and vibranium arms.

You gasped, “Oh my god!”

"Yaa! Yaa!" Steve stretched his short arms towards you. Clint gently put Steve on your arm.

“Why did you give him to me?” You nervously hold Steve. Even though he’s a baby now, he is still your boss. You turned to Tony. "You better fix this!!"

"On it."

Bucky saw Steve get carried by you. And he wants it, too. "Ahh…" He pulled Natasha's shirt and pointed at you.

"Even in baby form, you can't be separated from your best friend?"

After everyone stops panicking, Tony wears his Iron suit and buys kid's clothes; perhaps he wants to run away. Bruce is fixing the machine, Clint went home to get toys for Steve and Bucky, and Natasha is helping you.

But you know Natasha just returned after a 3-month mission, and from her eyes, you could see she's damn tired. So you told her to rest.

In the end, there are two babies in your arms. You learn that Steve and Bucky are two years old and can walk alone.

You put them on the couch while you went to the fridge to make warm milk for them. You're not nervous taking care of little kids since you always cared for nieces and nephews before being accepted as a SHIELD agent.

But you’re nervous since you have a little crush towards your idols.

You're relieved to see milk inside the fridge. When you turn around to search for a pan, you're shocked not to see the two babies on the sofa.

Where are they?

Then you feel someone is watching you. You looked and saw Steve and Bucky looking at you.

You lean down and speak softly towards them, "I'm making warm milk for you both. Do you want some?"

Steve and Bucky nodded at the same time. With their fluffy cheeks and small body-like dumplings, you wouldn't believe they're the same boss who is deadly and righteous at the same time. You patted their head gently.

When the milk has warmed up, you give it to both. Steve and Bucky drink the warm milk. They widened their eyes when they tasted it. It's delicious.

In their eyes, you're the person they could look up to. You never raised your voice, and you gave them a delicious drink.

Is this what it feels like to have a big sister?

After 30 minutes, Tony returned with shopping bags from the kid's store.

"Give me the clothes. It needs to be cleaned first before they wear it." You received the bag from Tony. You look inside the bag and see there are pyjamas too.

"I'm going to the laundry room. Could you watch them for a while?"

"Sure."

Steve and Bucky didn't want to be left alone with Tony. Their short legs immediately run after you. Then, each of them hugs each of your legs.

Your body froze. You looked down at the little boys who held your legs, their two big eyes looking at you intensely.

You knew they didn't want to be left alone at this moment. "Umm, Tony, could you do the dirty laundry instead?"

Tony nodded his head. "Yup, the message is clear: both hate me."

Since then, both Steve and Bucky have followed you everywhere. They helped you when you made lunch. They wash all the veggies.

You chuckled, even though they turn into kids, they are always helping.

But no matter what, they're just a kid who needs attention. You learned that when eating together with them.

When you help to feed Bucky because of his metal arm, it doesn't seem like he can control his body.

Steve doesn't like to see Bucky get all your attention. He starts to make a noise and drops his spoon. "Ah..ahhh..."

Because of that, you feed them in turns.

And before they go to sleep, you want to read a bedtime story. You thought this would be easy since they didn't take a nap.

You were wrong. First, it was Steve's book choice; then, it was Bucky's. You should've said only one story but couldn't say no to them.

When they fell asleep, you slowly went out of the room. Finally, you could breathe. Even though you like kids, it takes time and energy.

But at least because of this, your secret crush towards your bosses is gone. Like 50% gone.

Before you join the Avengers, your HR has told you to keep everything professional. It's impossible not to like Captain America and The Winter Soldier.

At first, you saw them cute. But because their crying and whining hurt your eardrum, it shattered their perfect image in your brain.

You don't think you could wait for another day. You could handle terrorists, pirates, and aliens, but not kids. You wish Tony and Bruce could finish the machine quickly.

It took three days to fix the machine. When Steve and Bucky return to their old self, they fall asleep to get checked first. After two hours, they finally woke up and searched for you.

"Ooh, you're looking for Y/N? I gave her a week off after caring for both of you."

Yes, you do. When Bruce said the machine worked fine without side effects, you immediately left the building and went to a bar.

At the bar, you gulped the second glass of beer. You sighed heavily since you realised you needed the strongest alcohol to erase the image from your mind of baby Steve Rogers and baby Bucky Barnes when they're crying, nagging and pulling your hair.

Their perfect image in your mind has been destroyed.

Drawing of baby Steve and Rogers : Drawing 1, Drawing 2, Drawing 3

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

#chris evans characters #sebastian stan characters #steve rogers x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fluff #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x f!reader #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x female reader

271 notes · View notes

vviolynn · 1 year ago

Text

A Difference

a/n - I had a random boost of inspiration and I’ve been wanting to post something for the longest time… so I’m just gonna say that I wrote this small bit within a span of like 2 days but less than an hour each time I came back to it. I hope this gives you guys an idea of what my writing is like, and ty in advance for reading <3 {ps - the fic I'm working on outside of this isn't as detailed as this... i just poured my creativity on this one, especially because it's way shorter.}

word count - 1.1k

• the winter soldier x hydra soldier!fem!reader •

warnings - mentions of killing and assassins, no use of y/n, the winter soldier being the winter soldier, angst?, use of russian words(translation given), no real romance... yet, ends with a cliffhanger of sorts

•••••••••••••••••••••

A soldier, or two? One super, one ordinary. One chose, one forced. One assassin. Two assassins. One woman, one machine. Two lives, paths crossed in a horrifying way. A killer, a killing machine. A life spent, a life taken. One free, one brainwashed. One skilled, one programmed. Two eyes met, two souls connected. One soldier, two soldiers.

She’s a soldier, ordinary, human. She chose her place. She chose Hydra. She grew up with one of their leaders. She chose this life. She chose when she was a young woman. She’s spent your life working for Hydra, willingly. She had the option to leave, yet she remained loyal. Hydra was a home to her. Hydra is a home to a strong willed woman. She spent her childhood and opening of womanhood training for the day she’d live her dream: to fight for her country. She’s skilled.

And yet… another life is placed into hers. The moment that second life awoke, eyes met, locked. For the first time, she wanted more than to serve Hydra. The eyes she met were the eyes of a programmed soul. He wasn’t free. He was brainwashed. His life wasn’t spent, it was taken. Years of his life, asleep, years of his life, stolen. A killing machine. That’s what he was. He was one made to kill, programmed for murder. It was a thought that could bring shivers down one’s spine. A machine, they say. He belonged to Hydra, and Hydra made him. It felt cruel. He was only the assassin they made him to be, how could there be a human behind that cold gaze? Forced… he was forced, and it was wrong. She could see it, even after your years spent with Hydra, she’s never witnessed such a thing. A super soldier? She would’ve killed to be like him.

That’s the thing, she would’ve killed to be like him. The problem was, she’s not him. Two soldiers, but there’s still a difference. A manner of choice. He was not given that choice. She could only wonder why.

•••••••••••••••••••••

Behind the facade, there was always a softness.

“Good morning soldat,” she greets him with a stern voice, but beneath her tone is a form of gentleness. The Winter Soldier looks down at the woman with this icy blues, and similar to her tone, he too had a gentleness buried underneath his gaze.

The soldier gives her a short nod as to address her, not speaking. She doesn’t appreciate his lack of words.

“Apologies, I said… good morning soldat,” the respected woman speaks again, she emphasizes her tone to a slight harsher one. The soldier’s gaze remains the same, unfazed.

“Good morning уважаемый,” the soldier nods again, and refers to her as ‘respected one’.

She gives him a nod back, seemingly satisfied with his reply. She almost smiles. She never smiles, at least not with other soldiers. Being in Hydra for a little over ten years gives her authority. Having grown up with one of the colonels put her as second in command. She has experience.

She knows she should treat the soldier like he isn’t human, but he is. In her eyes, he’s a tortured soul. She can see it, she has the ability to see past the glare. Why? because she knows how to spot a difference.

“Mission report,” she requests as she keeps her hands behind her back. Her head is tilted up in the slightest to keep eye contact. Their eyes lock, two soldiers.

“Negative,” he replies, and it’s his turn to give her a firmer voice. Her eyebrows furrow with the way that he speaks to her, as well as his response.

“On who’s orders?” the woman nearly growls. She always knew and was informed of the Winter Soldier’s missions. She usually asked only to report back to the colonel, it’s supposedly just a simple and daily task. It was also one of the only interactions she’d have with the fellow assassin.

“Твой начальник,” the firm voice remains, it feels like his programming showing it’s hold on him. Her eyes narrow in a small glare at how he says ‘your superior(boss)’. Why would her friend be keeping the soldier’s mission a secret from her?

Her voice is gone, stripped from her. She would never admit how vulnerable she feels right now. It created a storm within; a rage. The temptation to walk away and destroy everything in her path was strong. She stands her ground, glaring at the soldier in silence.

The soldier finds her silent response amusing in a way. He continues to look right back at her, his eyes gleaming at the entertainment.

The second in command knew she couldn’t be mad at the Winter Soldier, it was her ‘superior’, and her supposed childhood friend who was defying her. Acknowledging this allows her to calm down slowly, along with the beauty of the soldier’s eyes, the steel eyes that stuns any enemy he comes across. The soldier is an anchor to her, even though neither of them have acknowledged that yet.

Her demeanor shifts, right before his eyes. She calms, and her breathing steadies. She’s been trained to keep her emotions in check, especially if she’s a superior to most soldiers in Hydra. Although she’d never admit it, his presence just makes it a whole lot easier.

“I see,” her words finally form, and her voice comes out as quiet but strong. She wants to leave to go confront her ‘friend’ but there’s something that keeps her feet stuck to the ground. It’s almost like a magnetic pull. Her eyes haven’t left the soldiers for the whole duration of the conversation. Her body hasn’t moved an inch. Her hands haven’t left their hold on themselves behind her back. Besides her facial expressions, she hasn’t physically shifted in any way.

There are several moments of silence, all that can be heard is their soft breaths, and blinking eyes. The atmosphere remains thick, heavy, and suffocating. Both observe how their breaths match each other’s, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. A safe distance is kept between the two soldiers, but it still feels like there isn’t enough. Either that, or there’s too much. Neither of them can tell which it is.

They’re two magnets, and destiny is playing with them and their sides. It’s trying to decide whether to pull them apart, or pull them together. Stir hatred and disgust, and create distance? Or make it so once they touch, they can’t remove themselves from each other? An undying question.

Neither their hearts nor minds could comprehend a choice. To hate or to love? It’s hard for the two soldiers, especially when there’s such a difference.

•••••••••••••••••••••

#the winter soldier #tws #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x fem!reader #the winter soldier x hydra soldier!fem!reader #the winter soldier angst #bucky barnes x reader #b.b.#bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #j.b.b.#vviolynn writes #vviolynn fics

83 notes · View notes

beefromanoff · 1 year ago

Text

Going Under Ch. 26

summary: things reach their peak...in more ways than one.

characters: Bucky Barnes x OC

soundtrack: I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys

warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.

author’s note: okay OKAY this is big, and the first of this kind that I've written...so please give me feedback! It took 26 chapters to get here so I hope it was done right! ugh so many emotions, I hope you enjoy!

PS - special love to @charmedbysarge for the love and support, you being invested makes me even more invested and want to get things up even faster! I appreciate you! <3

chapter list

_________________________________________

The training room buzzed with energy.

Two dozen agents practiced hand-to-hand combat, honing their skills just like every week.

Just like every other week, Gianna sat at the edge of the training room, back against the wall. Her notebook was spread open on her lap. Typically, musings and lyrics poured out of her pen faster than she could write them down. The past few days…quite the opposite. The pages in front of her were completely empty, save for the scrawled doodles in the margins. She sighed, looking up at the noisy room.

Weaving through the pairs of sparring partners, Bucky paused every so often to provide guidance. His movements were precise and powerful, even when he demonstrated things at half speed for the agents to learn. Watching him had become a familiar routine, one Gianna looked forward to each day. But again, lately, something felt different.

His voice echoing through the cavernous room, Bucky called the agents to gather around, ending the training the same way he always did - with a few sparring sessions of his own. Agent Allison, the one who infamously had the hots for him, practically leapt to the front of the crowd, volunteering to go first.

In the weeks since she’d been at the compound, it had become common knowledge that Gianna and Bucky were very much together. There was a strict no-media protocol on the compound, with everyone who entered having to sign an airtight NDA. The precautions were for keeping much greater secrets, but it definitely made for a much more private relationship while they stayed here. Even if the agents saw Bucky shove Gianna up against this exact wall in the training room (not that she’d ever daydreamt about it), they couldn’t say a word, take a photo, nothing.

Most of the agents had healthy discretion, acknowledging the high-profile relationship existed without making it a thing. Gianna guessed that after months of watching the Black Widow and Captain America with their ongoing will-they-won’t-they thing, the agents had become desensitized to the outlandish things they saw at work. It wasn’t like they could go home, hit happy hour with their friends, and talk about how they’d spent the day sparring with the Winter Soldier.

Although if anyone were to try and boast about it…Gianna knew it would be Agent Allison. She narrowed her eyes, watching them.

Bucky’s every move was calculated, his strikes sharp and unforgiving. His face remained blank, clearly nowhere close to his full exertion. As much as Gianna hated to admit it, Agent Allison was skilled in her own right. She fought valiantly, no doubt showing off, but he made quick work of the round. Bucky swiftly disarmed her and, with a controlled motion, sent her to the mat. The thud echoed through the room as she landed on her back. Gianna bit the tip of her pen to disguise the grin that threatened to play across her face.

No sooner had she reprimanded herself for being so satisfied with the agent’s defeat did another thought cross her mind.

The way Bucky had sparred with her, and every other female agent, was the exact same as he sparred with the men. He held back, naturally, but he definitely didn’t take it easy on them. He let himself beat them, quickly. He hit them, hard. He didn’t treat them like they were breakable.

It bothered her, not at all because of his sheer strength, but because of the contrast between his approach with her and with the agents. The memory of his protective outburst at the lake just a few days ago resurfaced, muddled with the image of him throwing Agent Allison to the floor just a moment ago.

Goddammit, Gianna. Don’t make something out of nothing. He’s obviously not going to treat you like a combat trained field agent with years of experience. You’re manufacturing conflict.

She shook her head to clear it, but couldn't shake the knot that had formed in her stomach.

________________________________________________________

“Oh, Lordy, something smells good in here!” Sam announced his presence in the kitchen as Gianna stirred a pot on the stove.

“Once, just once, could you enter a room quietly?” Bucky scowled from his seat at the kitchen island, keeping her company while she worked.

“Yow, somebody’s hangry.”

“Make yourself useful,” Wanda thrust a stack of plates into Sam’s hands. “Set the table, don’t forget forks go on the left!”

“Yeah, yeah, not my fault y’all treat every dinner like the Queen’s joining us.” He rolled his eyes but obliged.

Even after the weeks she’d been at the compound, their dinner tradition hadn’t faded. Almost every night, Gianna and Wanda would cook for whichever variation of the team was there. They’d eat at the table, sit and talk for way too long, and then tackle the dishes before going their separate ways. Everyone teased the girls for their commitment to the new tradition, but it was clear that not one person wanted to give up the wholesome family atmosphere it brought.

“Oh, I left the pie in the fridge downstairs. I’ll be right back.” Wanda disappeared around the corner, leaving Gianna and Bucky alone in the kitchen.

“Have I told you lately how pretty you are?” He cocked his head to the side as he stood and rounded the island.

“Hmm…” Gianna pretended to think. “Would half an hour ago be considered ‘lately’?”

“Absolutely not.” He caught her wrist and pulled her close, wrapping his hands around her waist.

“Bucky,” She giggled between kisses, her face still flushing at his adoration.

“What?” He grinned and moved his hands up to her cheeks, kissing her slowly. She melted into him, only being brought back to reality by the oven timer dinging.

“As much as I’d like to keep this going, I didn’t spend two hours slaving away just to burn a whole lasagna.” She stood on her tiptoes and gave him one last kiss on his prickly jawline. “Not a full stop, just a pause.”

As Gianna rifled through the kitchen drawers, the oven timer kept dinging. “Ugh, if Wanda moves the oven mitts one more time…” She heard the oven open behind her and turned to see Bucky grab the casserole dish with his left hand, depositing it on the stove. He must have heard her gasp, turning to grin.

“It’s multipurpose.” He wiggled his vibranium fingers at her, unphased.

“That’s the true hero work,” She winked. “Now go sit down, play nice with Sam.”

He groaned but turned to head for the dining room. Waiting for the lasagna to settle, she looked around for what was missing. Glasses. Of course, the only clean ones left were on the very top shelf. She climbed onto the counter, putting a knee on the smooth marble and pulling herself up by the open cabinet door.

“Sam forgot napkins, hey, what are you doing?” Bucky frowned as he walked back in.

“All the other cups are in the dishwasher. Here,” She passed two glasses down to him.

“I could have gotten those for you.”

“No need,” She handed him the last two and scrambled down. “I’m resourceful.”

“You could have fallen, hit your head, stepped on the hot stove…”

“But I didn’t.”

“But,”

“Buck,” She interrupted him. “I’m fine.”

He paused for a moment, brows still knit together, but took the glasses into the other room without another word.

________________________________________________________

“I don’t think I can eat again for a week.” Bucky groaned as he laid back onto the bed.

“I’ve heard that before.” She grinned as she unfastened her earrings, setting them on the nightstand. “Yet you always seem to have a change of heart around breakfast.”

“I’m weak for pancakes.”

“You seem to have a few more weaknesses than that.” She purred, climbing onto his lap.

“That doesn’t sound like me.” He smirked and propped himself on his elbows. Gianna ignored him, running her fingers along his jawline.

“If I recall,” She slid her hands under the hem of his sweatshirt, hands cold against his warm body. “We have unfinished business.”

Bucky sat up, putting his hand on the small of Gianna’s back to keep her steady as he shifted beneath her. “That…” He kissed her, soft and slow. “We do.”

They hadn’t discussed what happened after the lake. When she’d quite literally laid herself bare and he left the room. She tried to tell herself he meant what he said, he felt gross from his mission and wanted to shower. She knew he wanted to ‘take things slow’ - but what did that mean? They’d been…whatever they were, officially, for weeks now. He slept in her bed almost every night. He kissed her in front of God and everybody. He’d shared his most intimate thoughts with her by revealing his journals.

But every time she tried to push things just a little further…he’d stop. He’d shift the tone to sweet, playing with her hair until she fell asleep or tracing circles on the small of her back. It was kind, gentle, honorable. At this point, however, she’d had her fill of kind, gentle, and honorable.

Gianna pulled back from his lips, raising her arms above her head. Their eyes locked as his hands slid up her back, the fabric of her shirt rising with it. Slowly, tenderly, he lifted it over her head and let her tousled hair tumble down her back. After letting his gaze drift over her for a moment, soaking up the delicate lace of her bra, she tugged his shirt over his head. Their warm chests pressed together as she wrapped her hand around his neck and kissed him again, tongue parting his lips immediately.

His grip tightened around her back as the kiss intensified, her hands tangled in his hair. Feeling especially impatient, Gianna slid off of his lap, her bare feet landing in the carpet between his knees. She pulled back from his lips, eyes hungry, and gently shoved his bare chest to push him back to the bed. He complied without protesting, watching her every move.

Her hands drifted to his hips, tugging on the drawstring of his sweatpants. Bucky’s eyes darkened. When the knot came undone in her delicate grip, she slipped her fingers inside the waistband and tugged them down, leaving them in a discarded heap on the floor.

Gianna rose, pausing only for a minute, to look over him sitting in his boxers. The muscles of his abdomen were taught even as he laid back on his elbows. His dark hair had the oh-so-familiar evidence of her hands having run through it. His jaw was clenched, blue eyes raking over her body.

God, he’s pretty.

Afraid of waiting any longer, she climbed back onto his lap, his hands meeting her hips in a desperate, greedy grip. Their lips crashed together as he rolled over on top of her. Gianna gasped into their kiss as his hips pressed against hers, his desire more than evident.

Suddenly, tragically, infuriatingly…he tore himself from her and stood, out of breath.

“I, we can’t.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

“Why?” Gianna cried out, unable to contain her frustration. Bucky turned his back to her, walking around the room. “Bucky, look at me!”

Slowly, he approached the bed, staying out of arms’ reach. He still didn’t look at her.

“Bucky…”

“I told you…”

“No, you told me you can’t. You told me you want to do this right, but you won’t tell me why or when the right time is! For God’s sake, I am throwing myself at you, and you’re walking away from me,” Her voice cracked at the end and he looked up with guilt-ridden eyes.

“I’m sorry,” He reached out to cup her cheek but she caught his hand.

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to want me.”

“Gianna…” Bucky dropped to his knees in front of the bed. “This isn’t about me wanting you…that has never, ever been a problem.”

“Then what is the problem?”

His blue eyes looked back and forth between hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“God, Bucky, I’m not made of glass!” She climbed off of the bed, throwing her hands in the air. “Why do you treat me like I’m breakable! You freaked out when I was just having fun, doing the same thing as everyone else, you didn’t even like when I climbed on the counter to get a dish from the cabinet, and I know you made Peter come with us to New York because you were afraid I wouldn’t be safe enough with just Wanda.” Her eyes narrowed. “You have always protected me, always kept me safe, but it’s like that’s all you want to do!”

His eyes were torn, it took everything in her not to rush to comfort him with the heart-wrenching look he had on his face. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He repeated, his voice coming out as a growl.

“You don’t have to worry about hurting me -”

“I have to worry about hurting everyone.” He hissed, angry at the reality and angry it had led to this when all he wanted was to give in. “Especially you.”

“You don’t treat me like the others, the way you threw Agent Allison on the ground today,” Gianna paused, steeling herself, furious that she even had to mention that woman in her own bedroom. “Do you…think I’m weak? Do you think I can’t handle myself?”

“No, Gianna,” He crossed the room in two steps and cupped her face. “That’s not it at all. You are…easily one of the strongest women, strongest people I’ve ever met. You’ve been through more than anyone should have to endure and you’ve done most of it alone.” He searched her eyes. “It’s not that I think you can’t handle things…it’s that I don’t think you should have to. I…I want better for you. I want to give you what you deserve, keep everything bad away.”

Her face softened as his desperate words. “I don’t need everything bad to be kept away. I just need to keep the good close.” She tucked a dark strand behind his ear. “I just can’t seem to get close enough.”

Bucky’s thumbs brushed her cheeks, the conflict in his mind almost palpable. “I…I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her brows knit together, watching the anguish on his face. “How would you -”

“I don’t trust myself.” His voice was strained. “With how I feel about you, what I want…”

“But I trust you.” She tilted his chin to look back at her. “What about what I want?”

Gianna took a step back. The number of days she’d worn matching lacy undergarments, just hoping it would be the night he’d take them off of her…she’d lost count. Tonight, standing before him in the delicate, lacy blue set, the one that reminded her of his eyes when she picked it out in the store…she didn’t think she had enough patience to hope for another day.

“Bucky…” She breathed. “Ask me what I want.”

His eyes slowly, painfully, rose to meet hers. His breathing was labored. He was losing the battle with himself.

“What…do you want?”

“I want you to stop worrying.”

She stroked his cheek.

“I want you to know you make me feel safer than I ever have, in my life.”

She held his metal hand in hers, kissing his knuckles.

“I want you to appreciate this stupid lingerie I picked out specifically for you.”

She took two slow, deliberate steps backwards, letting his eyes trail over her.

“I want you to stop acting like I’m breakable and throw me on this bed like I’ve been dreaming about for months.”

“Gianna,” His voice was a low warning, all his restraint about to break.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Half a second.

That’s how long he hesitated before he snapped. In two strides, he crossed the room, never breaking eye contact with her. Before she could process, he’d picked her up, one hand supporting her and one hand gripping her cheek like his life depended on it. He kissed her harder, hungrier than he ever had before. Moving his hand away from her face for a split second, he reached around her back and ripped the clasp off of her bra. Without setting her down, he climbed onto the bed, still holding her to his body as he supported them both with his other arm.

He ran his tongue along her lower lip, moaning into her mouth. With a deep kiss, he deposited her onto the bed, rising up on his knees. Gianna let out a small whine as he pulled away but was quickly silenced by the look in his eyes. He reached down and took the delicate lace of her bra between his fingers, lifting it off of her body with ease, thanks to the mangled clasp somewhere across the room. He set it to the side and ran his hands across her collarbone, tracing the outline of her breasts, before trailing his hands down to her hips. A trail of fire lit Gianna’s skin everywhere he touched her.

Bucky traced the lace design, committing the image to memory. In one swift movement, completely contradictory to the gentle way he touched her, he grabbed them and yanked. The lace ripped with ease and he tossed the ruined material to the side.

“Fuck.”

Gianna sucked in a breath, the sight of him looking at her so lustfully making it suddenly hard to breathe, to think at all. ��Please,” She pleaded.

He didn’t make her wait. In a second, his boxers were ripped and discarded right next to her panties. He was on her, arms caging her in on the mattress. He surrounded her. All she could see were piercing blue eyes, inky black hair hanging down over her, silver vibranium glinting in the moonlight. He filled her senses. He burrowed into the crook of her neck, kissing her collarbone, nipping at the delicate skin below her ear. She moaned, fingers running up his back.

His hand cupped her jaw, giving her a long, wet kiss before pulling back. His thumb ran across her lower lip, not able to fully let go but needing to put his mouth on the rest of her. He kissed, nibbled, bit what felt like every inch of her neck, chest, stomach. Gianna squirmed, urging him back up, but he caught her hips in an unyielding grip and held her still as he continued.

Bucky slid off the edge of the bed, again kneeling on the floor beside it. Still holding her hips, he yanked her to the edge of the bed, parting her legs around his face. His eyes met hers as he sank out of her view, draping her legs lazily over his shoulders. The gleam in his eye when he tasted her was almost predatory. Though she couldn’t see his face, Gianna knew, could feel that he was smirking. She threw her head back as a moan escaped her, bucking her hips against his face. Again, he gripped her waist and pinned her down, ensuring she wouldn’t move before his left hand disappeared. A cold, vibranium finger slid inside of her, moving at a tantalizing pace.

She couldn’t tell if it was ten seconds or ten minutes that he stayed between her legs, time passed differently with that kind of ecstasy. Before she knew it, everything that had been building up since she first saw him, saw those blue eyes and the muscles through the back of his t-shirts…all of it coiled inside of her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Her secret, lust-filled daydreams mixed with all the memories of his face swirled through her mind as she cried out, her legs wrapped around his shoulders. The grip he had on her waist with his right hand was sure to leave a mark, but it was nowhere near her mind at that moment. Her eyes flew open, arching her back, and the last thing she saw as she came undone was that tousled black hair between her legs.

Gianna fell apart in his hands, quivering as the waves of pleasure slowly subsided. Far from satiated, Bucky slowly pulled back, kissing the insides of her thighs as he did. The way they trembled in his hands made him even more feral, made him need her even more.

He slid his hand under her back and moved her to the middle of the bed, climbing on top of her. Her eyes were dazed, looking up at him like he was the sun, the moon, and all the stars. Using his legs, Bucky nudged hers open and settled between them, ready to finish what they started. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, tasting the thinnest sheen of sweat across her brow.

“Are you sure?”

She looked up at him with those big green eyes. Wordlessly, her hands snaked down to grab his hips, pulling him towards her. He moved slowly, watching her face for any kind of discomfort as he pushed into her for the first time. With a soft whimper, her eyes rolled beneath her lids, head falling back to the mattress. Bucky bit his lip, commanding himself to take it slow. More impatient than him, Gianna’s legs wrapped around his waist and locked, pulling him deep inside of her. Their moans mixed together as he paused, fully entwined with her.

He could smell her, feel her, taste her…she was everywhere. She was everything.

After a moment of letting her adjust, Bucky kissed Gianna, so gently she had to open her eyes and make sure it was real. There was a moment of overwhelming, intoxicating warmth that flooded her as his eyes opened and met hers. They paused, pressing their foreheads together and breathing the same breath.

“Move,” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but a command nonetheless.

So he did.

Pulling back and thrusting into her, he picked up in pace and force until the room was a hurricane of sweat, moans, and the sound of skin on skin. Gianna heard herself cry out his name, but it felt otherworldly. Nothing was real to her except the feeling of him, of James Buchanan Barnes, inside of her.

When he fell apart, it was the most delicious sight she’d ever seen. His eyes rolled, he threw his head back, his mouth opened to let out a low moan as every muscle in his beautiful body tensed.

They laid there for another undefined amount of time, limbs tangled, sweat mingled, hearts pounding. Bucky’s arms cradled her head as he laid his on her chest, soothed by the rise and fall of her breathing.

“Bucky?”

He lifted his head, stroking her hair off of her cheek.

“I want this, all of this. Always.”

His lopsided smile spread across his face. “That good, huh?”

“Bucky,” She nudged him. “I’m serious.”

“Gianna…” He propped himself up and traced her hairline, her ear, her jaw. “I couldn’t even resist you when all I had was the idea of you. Now that I know you, now that…I can never go back to a life without you.”

She bit her lip to keep the goofy, giddy smile from breaking through. Having heard what she wanted, she pulled herself out from under him and padded over to the oversized tub in the corner.

“For the record,” Gianna grinned as she turned on the hot water. “It most definitely was that good, and you better actually join me this time.”

Bucky rolled off the bed, grinning right back. “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #avengers #bucky barnes x oc #bucky fanfic #winter soldier #bucky fluff #sebastian stan #winter soldier fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #winter soldier smut

28 notes · View notes

thescribeoflostmemories · 2 years ago

Text

Secret Santa

Yan(?)! Capitano x wife! Reader

(Yes, it's the huntress reader)

Warning: Unhealthy relationship, Lemon Pudding, black-mailing(?), smexy time, inaccurate depictions of drunken-ness, some fluff and crackers. Mild yandere

lil summary: Waifu tried to get away from hubby but ended up bonding a bit with the help of someone during the festivals.

ps. I was in a hurry to make this before the month ends, hopefully next xmas would be me completing the other harbingers (probably)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You have no idea how you got pulled into this, one moment you were fraying your husband for cuddling you in bed (Well actually, you were the one who’s cuddling him) the next you were told by one of the sermon goers named Sister Pangita to aid in carolling for the unfortunate. You tried to deny the invitation (forcefully) but you relent, since it’s not always how you get to enjoy the winter holidays. Even if you get to see your arrogant husband to whom you will gladly ignore the whole night too.

“ So you’re telling us we could get injured?”

“Yep, which is why I asked some soldiers and agents to help us with getting the presents to the recipients.” Sister Pangita says with a wide smile, her curly dark hair tucked under her nun cap.

“Uhm, Sister Pangita?” Raising your hand to catch her attention, her gaze fixated to you , making you shiver in the cold. Even with only one eye, the anxiety you felt never ceased.

“Mm, yes, miss?” Gesturing you to speak up.

“What if someone is in critical condition once engaged?”

“Do not worry, you are free from your burdens if you just hand the presents and list to the next worker.” She speaks as if it were no big deal. But it is concerning to you that there are some people in the group who don't seem to know how to fight.

“Though, it is why we picked a select few like you who are capable of fighting these thieves. After our caroling, I have the soldiers and agents scatter for you to join and aid you in your quest to complete the ending year.” Sister clapped her hands, a smile on her face formed on her sickly image.

You tried, keyword here tried to match their voice, though you end up with a sore one with how much you tried to control your voice with a falsetto. People kept looking at you weird and wondering if you should even be here.

Sister Pangita had handed you a sack of presents and a list of names who had been good this year. With a sigh you put the list in the pocket of your dress. Your bow and arrows on your back.

Your husband insisted you wear these embarrassing clothes, your back is exposed to the elements. On your back is a big green bow that holds the dress in a tight fit, green gloves keep your hands nice and warm.

Feet trekked on the snow that did little to no hindrance to your journey. This quest proved to be difficult due to how your monstrous spouse had sheltered you away and did not let you out unless he came with you.

Not noticing a person blocking your way. Your voice got soft from suddenly feeling the coldness on your face. “Oh I beg your-” You look up and see the hulking figure of your husband in armor, his white coat replaced with a red one, outside is decorated like a festive tree…

Silence before closing your eyes and make a U-turn, shouting “Sister Pangita! Sister Pangita! Where are you?! I got a sprained ankle!” Your fast paced walking turned into running to make Capitano lose sight of you. You quickly want to be relieved of your burden of being the festive gift giver.

“Dove!” He called out, the clanks of metal footsteps can be heard growing closer.

“Fuck off!” Cursing at him, not minding if you received stares from other people since they knew you loathe him. The soft clinks of your shoes sound against the pavement, the snow here has already been cleared of.

With a sharp turn you hid between houses. Capitano going past you. And saw a small group of children, “Oh, children!” You called out to them, and they turned to you.

“Yes, miss?” One little boy with long black hair and blue eyes stared brightly at you.

“I think, I saw Mr. Santa over there.” You pointed at Capitano who was asking a person over there if they saw you.

“You did?!” Their eyes lit up and went over to see Capitano, making you chortle a bit and ran off with the sack of your own gifts to bestow to children.

“DOVE!” Enraged roar can be heard in the distance as hurried feet nearly give away your location by leaving footprints.

Soon when you think the chase is over, you are ambushed by the ‘thieves’ that wanted the gifts. Cryo slimes and based creatures partnered with a few people to command them.

“Aren’t you a little old to be expecting gifts!” It wasn’t a question as you drew the bow and aimed it at the creatures to electrocute them.

"Why! Don't! You! Relax! It's a holiday! " Each phrase you released arrows at them, not noticing another one sneaking up at you. Ready to strike, yet it never made an impact on your vulnerable backside.

The opponent tossed aside as if a rag doll. “Your methods of capturing my attention are perplexing, Dove.” A familiar tone of arrogance called out, or so you think of it as such.

“And I was hoping to have a nice relaxing evening with just the two of us and not to be accosted, by children!” Ironically, with his heavy armor, he managed to take down half of the enemies matching your speed.

“I would have enjoyed the event! If you haven’t!” You gave out a few more arrows covering his blind spots while he charged at the ones behind you. “Joined in!”

“Seems they all left.” Indeed, It wasn’t until long after the others had realized going after you is not worth it. The others seemed to have fled and carried away their fallen allies.

A puff of warm breath escaped your lips, pushing back your hair. " The fuck are you staring for?” You had noticed him staring at your back side for a bit there.

“Nothing, find it quite odd you haven’t run off again.” he replied simply. Making you turn to him, weapons tucked away securely to your back.

"Fuck you." You grumbled. Hand going through your hair again and scratching an itch.

"Sorry but you aren’t in the list." With how on edge you are, you are easily annoyed and replied hastily with.

"Like hell I would have my time spent with you in bed" Stomping off without him again, this time you dragged your small sack of presents… Of course Capitano easily found you and you got lost on the way there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving at the house of one of your recipients, Capitano seemed to be baffled at the notion of going inside. “A chimney, can’t we just put it by the door?” He says looking at you struggling to get up the house, thankfully there’s no fire.

“No can do Capybara, if we just leave it outside then the thieves can just snatch it right up.- Woah!” Capitano was about to catch you but you held your grip on the roof more. You rather fall than get caught by him.

“Be careful.” He says.

“Pipe it, tin can. I know what I’m doing.” You grunt, it’s a wonder why he hasn’t gotten rid of you yet. If you were in his shoes you wouldn’t tolerate the unhealthy relationship. For all you know he has a thing for spouses nagging his ear off or saying terrible things about him.

While you’re busy climbing up and getting on the chimney, Capitano is actually enjoying the view of that upskirt. Though too bad you climbed too quickly.

Your problem with leaving the gift isn't much to think about since it was late at night. But a rather nice child had left you a note and left some snacks for you, and no cookies were spared on that plate.

Once you got out of the house, you safely got back to the roof. Swinging your arms in preparation to jump down, a bird flew by surprising you and causing you to fall down to his arms. “Told you to be careful, dove.” He laughed using his free hand to rub off the crumb off your lip, you blushed. That earned a smack on his shoulder for that, it wasn’t that hard compared to the previous smacks you had given him.

And so, both of you went to the next recipients to break in through the chimney or lock picked just to drop the gifts off… At this point you were tired. You went ahead of your husband and met a familiar man by the guest room.

“Yo, lil’ firecracker~” He waved at you with a bottle of booze in hand, and how could you say no to an old friend…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your husband wanted to check on you since you looked pretty much tired from caroling and the events of earlier. His thoughts were disturbed by a familiar chuckle from the guest room. Just as he was about to enter, Simeon came out with a bag in hand. Annoyed that this pest just waltz in the house without him being notified. He had to fire who let him in.

" Hey, relax, this happens all the time. But thanks pal, I managed to get in contact with Miss Sandrone!" How optimistic, typical. Leaning his arm on the general’s.

" Bah, don't look so sour bro. " Simeon hiccupped, but he looked off, a heavy scent of booze wafted through his breath.

"Got you a lil' gift, heard you were complaining about a few things and she wanted some fun… So why not loosen up" he passes the brown bag to the general.

“A lil something- something, a friend of mine made it. Though use it sparingly~" Before Capitano could say anything, Simeon already left, still waddling away from his vision.

Capitano can handle him next time since his main priority is with you, his wife. Once he enters, the armor wearing man is greeted by a surprise. You drunk off your mind, your arms embracing him.

“Dove, you’re drunk. You need some rest.” patting your shoulders, but you didn’t shrug it off unlike the first time he did it.

“I know… It’s just too cold on the bed.” Rubbing your head against him, you aren’t even watching where your hands are going. Trailing on his chest, he pulled back.

“You should take a bath, I’ll have one of the maids draw you one-” He looked back at you, seeing how you held on to him again so tightly.

"I… love you~" Your voice muffled against him, his hand on the handle was let go.

“You’re on dangerous grounds, _____.” You heard him but in response you just pulled him to the bed. And you said something you shouldn’t have. But who was he to deny his wife some affections?

That night he's been smothered with kisses and body coated in hickies. You might even see traces of your lipstick on his neck and face if he doesn't cover it up with his armor.

And in the morning, you wouldn’t want to get out of bed until late in the afternoon. It was a good thing that Capitano went away as soon as he woke up early and had you dressed so you wouldn’t find out, if you did he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Can you stop staring? It’s giving me the creeps…” Your face scrunched up in discomfort as you ate some soup. The warmth of the broth eases your pain as your husband just coughs.

“Sorry.”

Dessert time 🍮 warning!

The memory of you between his legs and forcing him open remained in his mind for a good while. " Mmm… " From within the room, he could hear how hard you're sucking him. He most likely didn't expect to get this sort of gift instead.

Head between his legs, your hands kept him there. You could feel the grip he has on your scalp making you deep throat his entire length into you.

With a loud wet pop, you catch your breath. The large shaft of your husband rests on your head, warm breath fans on him. He couldn't get enough seeing that cute face looking up at him, worshiping him, teasing the red head.

"Chu." You playfully kissed his tip, making him groan softly, rubbing him still, coating his whole member in spit preparing him for the next hole to enter.

He remembered how quickly you tried to strip yourself, ended up getting his help to undo the dress. Everything felt so fuzzy. All you could feel is your apparel never felt so irritating to wear at the moment which was gone in a flash.

"Yes!" You cried, tears fell from your face as your legs holds him closer when he gave one last thrust.

#yandere capitano #capitano #fatui capitano #capitano x reader #yandere capitano x reader #capitano x you #capitano x y/n #capitano x fem reader

138 notes · View notes

blackwidownat2814 · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 3,067 times in 2022

That's 2,019 more posts than 2021!

55 posts created (2%)

3,012 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@foreverindreamlandd

@angrythingstarlight

@jobean12-blog

@bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

@munsons-maiden

I tagged 2,438 of my posts in 2022

Only 21% of my posts had no tags

#bucky barnes - 568 posts

#bucky barnes x reader - 452 posts

#eddie munson - 424 posts

#bucky barnes x you - 422 posts

#bucky barnes fanfiction - 387 posts

#eddie munson x reader - 305 posts

#eddie munson fanfiction - 299 posts

#eddie munson x you - 292 posts

#eddie munson x female!reader - 206 posts

#bucky barnes x y/n - 206 posts

Longest Tag: 90 characters

#for the mexicans and the atheists and pagans and the iranians and iraqis and everyone else

My Top Posts in 2022:

I just need everyone to know that @blizzspeaks is a QUEEN and amazing person. That is all.

PS: go read her work!!!!

19 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

Um...what?

Thanks go out to @give-me-a-moose for bringing this to my attention. I’m famous now, so ask questions must go through my ‘people’. Thank yew.

49 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

See the full post

53 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

Roll the Dice (B.B)

Summary:

Then.

After an argument with your mother, you rage-search for a new job, eventually landing on the homepage of your local county and off the cuff, apply for an opening at the library you frequented as a child.

Your first day on the job changed your life. A few years later, you got your Master’s in Library Science, and left your hometown...

…and you ended up in Manhattan at the New York Public Library, a few blocks from a certain Tower.

And after meeting the Black Widow herself, Natasha Romanoff, when she, Captain America, the Falcon, Wanda, and Thor came to do a program for the kids one weekend, Nat and Captain Rogers (“Please, call me Steve.”) invited you back to the Tower to meet the rest of the team.

And the rest, as they say, is history…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word Count: 3490

Warnings: fluff.

A/N: I haven’t written anything in almost three(?) years. I just stopped. But then, I sat down in March 2021 to watch The Falcon & the Winter Soldier and my brain started poking me to write so many different plot bunnies, y’all have no idea. I was inspired to actually finish something thanks to @pellucid-constellations #LoveLettersWritingChallenge.

I am new to writing reader insert fic, so I wrote what I know and that’s being Latina. I am constantly reading up on how to make reader insert fics more inclusive, so I will try to make it less specific next time I write. However, once again, I am Latina so that might come up now and again, while I get used to writing all inclusively.

Also, thanks to @beefybuckrrito for all the help in beta-ing this oneshot! You the best queen! Another shout out to my girl Col @foreverindreamlandd for no reason other than she’s awesome!

‼️⚠️I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, translated or reposted anywhere else but on my own blog.⚠️‼️

See the full post

173 notes - Posted March 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

wip meme

post the last line you wrote (from any wip) and tag the same number of people as there are words.

Tagged by the awesome @thisonesatellite

Heimdall and Loki stood unbothered in New Himinbjorg...

-From my attempt at a Bucky x reader, with Hanahaki disease as a main part of the story. Still working on ironing out the details.

Tagging: @foreverindreamlandd @jobean12-blog @navybrat817 @writing-for-marvel @radiantheartbeat @just-chirpin @tuiccim @sillyrabbit81

186 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

4 notes · View notes

plus-size-reader · 2 years ago

Text

The Perfect Plan

Bucky Barnes x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 3065 words

Warnings: a little bit of an angsty piece I’ve been working on in an attempt to kick writers block’s ass. (I imagine this set somewhere after civil war, I just liked the gif)

Summary: Bucky pulls his punches when sparring with the reader, which doesn’t exactly go as planned

—————————————————————————————————

“How do you ever expect me to get better if you keep pulling your punches?”

The words left your lips as little more than a huff as you pulled away from Bucky, that accusatory glare of yours burning into his skin.

Clearly, something was going on.

The two of you had been sparing since before the sun came up and even still, nothing had changed.

You both knew that he could easily knock you from your feet, a million times over if he wanted to, but for whatever reason, he hadn’t. He had hardly landed a single swing, and that told you one very important thing.

He was holding back.

You could feel it.

Normally when you two were sparring, trading shots and doing everything you could to get better, he gave you just about everything he had.

That was the deal.

In order for you to gain the skills necessary to be of any help to him and the rest of the team, Bucky knew that you’d have to take on people that meant you real harm. They weren’t going to look out for your safety.

They weren’t going to be careful not to hit you too hard.

That was just something that you were both going to have to deal with, whether Bucky liked it or not.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make training you any easier for the man in question. There were too many moving parts and too many things that could go wrong, especially with him.

It was complicated, Bucky was complicated, and you just didn’t seem to grasp the gravity of it all.

That, or you didn’t care, and neither of those options brought him any comfort.

“I’m not” he tried, stepping back from you again, dropping both arms at his sides, the tone of his voice not even enough to convince him.

It wasn’t entirely his fault.

Bucky just didn’t want to hurt you, even if he knew it was all for the greater good and frankly, that didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.

He wasn’t supposed to want to hurt you, but there was no other way.

You had told him that a million times.

Dating The Winter Soldier, as you’d chosen to do, came with risks and since you weren’t about to leave the man you loved no matter the danger, the only other way to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed would be if he helped you.

Helped you prepare and helped you learn to take care of yourself, even when he wasn’t around.

Besides, you had already proven to him that you could handle yourself, and you trusted Bucky. That was why you’d asked him to help you with this in the first place.

“No? Then why haven’t you hit me once?” you questioned, your hands falling on your hips as you surveyed him, clearly waiting for some kind of reason for his actions other than the one you both knew was the truth.

There was silence between you for a moment, a silence that filled the usually packed training room, and knocked Bucky further out of his depth.

Anything he came up with would be too clearly an excuse.

Not that saying nothing at all was much better.

“Maybe you’re just better than you’re giving yourself credit for” he eventually tried, admiring the near look of disdain on your face as you processed his answer.

It was a lie.

A piss-poor excuse for something you should have seen coming before you even agreed to any of this. Bucky loved you, and because he loved you, it was hard for him to do this for you. It was hard for him to set his mind aside, for even a moment.

It was too dangerous, even if you didn’t believe it.

“Maybe” you grumbled, shaking your hands out at your sides for a moment, forcing your attention away from the handsome face of the man you loved.

Who, in this moment, was driving you insane.

“Or, and this is just a theory, you don’t actually want me to get better” you countered, wiping a small bit of sweat from your brow. Bucky may not have been trying to accomplish anything today, but you had been giving this everything you had.

Since sun up.

Your tone once again caught Bucky off guard. You were angry, evidently, because he had made the executive decision not to use his years of experience in this area to knock you on your ass.

It didn’t make any sense.

Still, he couldn’t just let you think that he would deliberately throw your training because of something so stupid. He was under no illusions of what you were capable of, and was sure that in time, you’d be a force all your own.

It was just going to be hard for him to get you there, all alone.

“Of course I want you to get better. I just don’t want to hurt you” Bucky shrugged, actually forcing a laugh from your lungs.

On any other day, you would have understood but today, it was a problem. It was a problem because this wasn’t part of your deal.

He was supposed to be helping you.

He had agreed to help you, and if he wasn’t able to, that was fine, but he definitely should have brought it up before now.

“You agreed to help me do this” you reminded, more for yourself than him as you tried to figure this out. There had to be some kind of strategy, something you could do that would make him take this seriously.

All you had to do was take a different approach.

“What did you think we’d be doing? Holding hands? Baking cookies?” you taunted, loosely wrapping and unwrapping your hand as you spoke, just as Steve taught you to do, not even bothering to look Buck in the eye.

You loved him.

You understood that he was actively terrified of the hell that lived in his mind, constantly painting the space behind his eyes with horror, but that was exactly why he had to be the one to do this for you.

If you found yourself in danger, it would likely be due to your connection to him but even if it wasn’t, there was always the slim, albeit entirely possible, chance that it would be at his own hand.

When Bucky was out of control, when the Winter Soldier took over, there was no telling what he was capable of. You had seen it with your own two eyes, and if he even became that again, you had to be able to do something.

Even if all you could actually do was keep him from killing you.

So, with that in mind and no real idea what you were planning on doing, or what difference it would make, you swung your weight in his direction again, putting everything you had into a punch that you landed without fail in the center of his chest.

Though, again, Bucky did nothing to retaliate.

He didn’t make a move to strike, to move or even to speak. All he did was look at you, the hint of a smirk threatening to betray him the longer you put this on.

Not that he needed to be reminded, but you never ceased to amaze him with how determined you could be.

“I am helping you get better, your form is incredible” Bucky reasoned, enjoying the way your face scrunched up in annoyance as he further dug himself into whatever hole he’d been digging, his eyes scanning over you as you stood in front of him.

He was playing with you, of course.

In the beginning, it had been a real offer and it still was, in part.

If you were going to be out there with them, in the heat of combat, you needed to be prepared and he was the perfect person to make sure you were. It wasn’t his fault that watching you get flustered was a hell of a lot more fun than beating you up over and over.

The latter just wasn’t something he was willing to do, even if it was perhaps the best way for you to learn.

“Really? Because when you train with Nat, she leaves with bruises” you finally spit, choosing to ignore the clear irony of actively asking the man you loved to beat you up.

It was true.

Natasha and Bucky had regular appointments together, just like this one, except when she asked him to, he landed his hits…every time.

The reality was that the enemy, and whatever was out there, wouldn’t go easy on you.

You had to learn to take a punch, and to land quite a few of your own in return, two things you couldn’t do without Bucky’s help.

Help that he just wasn’t giving.

“Now hold on, that isn’t fair” your partner sighed, but you didn’t give him the time to come up with some half-baked reason this time.

You weren’t some porcelain doll, constantly on the edge of shattering. You were a part of this team just like he was, and all you needed was a little help to get on the same level.

Of all people, you could have thought he’d understand that.

“Isn’t it? What’s the difference between her and me?” you kept going, your right hand falling square in the center of his chest, hard enough for that little voice in the back of your head to question if you should stop.

Not that you were going to.

This was important to you, even if it didn’t matter to him.

“Nat could handle it” he yelled back, the implication there more than enough to spur on the heat beneath your skin all over again, his hand gingerly capturing you at the wrist.

So that was what this was about.

He didn’t think you could do this, no matter how many times he assured you that you could before now.

As much as this was about Bucky being scared of his past, and the things he couldn’t control, it obviously has something to do with his opinion of you as well. Clearly, he thought that you were weak or pathetic, neither of which you were just going to accept.

It wasn’t in your nature.

“I don’t know why I thought you could help me with this. I should have asked Steve” you scoffed back, watching as his face twitched now, telling you that you’d plucked a nerve there, without even meaning to.

Good.

As much as Bucky meant to you, this wasn’t about your relationship. This wasn’t about love, and it wasn't about protecting you.

This was about you being able to protect yourself, and it was important.

“You think I’m going easy on you? Steve wouldn’t have even shown up for something like this” the raven-haired male decided, admiring you with a smug smirk.

He had you there.

Steve only really spared solo, having told you several times that he preferred to save the fighting for the real enemy. You doubted any amount of begging would get you the result you wanted, and then you’d be back here.

Dealing with Bucky, in all his brooding.

You had never known someone to be so damn stubborn, though Bucky would argue that could be rectified by looking in a mirror.

“Well, there’s gotta be somebody in this place who doesn’t think I’m weak” you prodded, your pointer finger finding purchase in the tense muscle of his pectoral.

Just to further prove your point.

“Now come on, you know that’s not what I meant. It’s just that you’re just starting, and I don’t want to push you too hard” he tried, finally backing down as much as he was willing to, when he saw the smallest twinkle of real hurt in your eyes.

This wasn’t just you getting frustrated, or trying to goad him into a fight.

You genuinely believed he thought you were weak, and that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

He was just scared of bringing you into this, and while that wasn’t what you’d come here for, it was easier to get a rise out of you than admitting that.

“Because you think I’ll break” you inferred, taking him that step further, earning a groan from his lips, that familiar crease in his brown ridge making another appearance.

This whole thing had been fun for him, as long as he was pulling the strings but it wasn’t nearly as entertaining to have to take what he’d gotten really good at dishing out.

“Because if you do, I don’t want to be the one responsible”

It was his worst nightmare.

One that he’d had to live over and over again, all those memories, flashes of faces now replaced in his sleep with your own. Bucky wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything ever happened to you at his hand.

He just wouldn't.

It was one thing for you to want to join the fight, but it was another one entirely for him to be the one on the other side of it.

There was silence between you for a long moment as you considered his words, and the sheer weight of them as they left his lips and met your ears.

You wanted to disagree with him, to keep pushing the envelope and argue that that was nothing more than an excuse, but deep down, you knew you couldn’t. Bucky wasn't the kind to make empty promises or weak excuses for his actions.

He never had been.

So, as much as you hated to, you nodded, letting the tense muscles in your jaw relax as you tried to decide where to go from here.

If Buck wasn’t comfortable with it, you’d have to find someone who was, which proved to be a rather daunting task given the rooster. Still, you didn’t want to push him too far, especially if this would put the man you loved in a bad place.

That was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Okay, I’ll just ask around. I’m sure someone else will help me” you shrugged, forcing a gentle smile to your face in an effort to mask the disappointment swelling in the pit of your stomach.

It wasn’t his fault.

Bucky was who he was, and he couldn’t be blamed for being afraid of what he was capable of. Maybe you could try again later, after you got a little more confident in your own abilities in combat.

After you knew what you were doing.

“I don’t want you to do that. I can do this, I just want to be careful” came Bucky’s inevitable reply as he did a fair amount of his own thinking. It had been a while since he’d been out of control, albeit not as long as he’d have liked, and it should be fine.

He just didn’t like having to rely on things probably being okay.

“I should have mentioned it earlier, I really thought I could handle it, but once I got here, it just felt different” he continued, absently taking your hand in his own as he spoke, his fingers playing at the cloth dressing your knuckles.

Hand to hand just never felt quite right to him anymore, even when it was just sparring. He always felt like he was one step away from disaster, one step away from losing what little bit of him was still him, in the first place.

“I get it” you allowed, giving his right hand a reassuring squeeze, further driving home that you weren’t upset with him, and that you didn’t blame him for trying to protect you.

You loved him, and this wasn’t going to change that.

Nothing was ever going to change that.

The two of you always made things work, and even if you didn’t do things the traditional way, you got things done your way.

…and this was no different.

Just because Bucky wasn’t comfortable physically training with you yet didn’t mean that he couldn’t help you. It just meant that you had to think about it differently, and make it work for you.

“How about we try something different? You said my form is good but I could still use help with the logistics” you explained, watching as Bucky’s face changed from one of guilt to one of subtle concentration, as he followed your words.

Of course, you hadn’t gotten to the point yet but it didn’t matter.

If there was anything he could do to help you, he’d do it, so long as he was sure he could do it while also keeping you safe.

“Yeah, your stance is solid” Bucky repeated, allowing you to lead him over to the other side of the gym like a puppy after its master, ever willing to do whatever it took to please you.

Clearly, the gears were turning in your head, all he had to do was listen.

“Thanks, but what I still need help with is all the other stuff. How much force do I put behind a punch? How do I maintain my own balance while trying to get the upper hand, especially against someone stronger or more skilled than me?” you hummed, only stopping your task once you reached your destination.

The Punching bag.

If you couldn’t actively train opposite Bucky, the next best thing would have to do. In this case, the next best thing would be sparing against the punching bag in front of you, under the watchful eye and expert guidance of your lover.

Who, based on the look that was developing on his handsome face, just realized where you were going with this.

How had he missed this?

It had been staring you both in the face this entire time, just like Steve’s refusal to fight unless he was in the face of danger, all Bucky had to do was keep his distance til he was ready.

It was the perfect plan.

You could develop your skill, and he could still help you, maintaining a comfortable distance until he was sure he could handle it.

“I’ll teach you everything and then, when we’re both ready, I’ll show you” You had never known someone to be so damn stubborn, though Bucky would argue that could be rectified by looking in a mirror.

601 notes · View notes

talaok · 2 years ago

Note

Haii!! Idk if you’re taking requests atm, but if you are, can I request a Joseph Quinn fanfic where Reader is like a famous singer (or another big actress) and she has the BIGGEST celebrity crush on Joseph? Like during interviews if people ask her about her celeb crush, she wouldn’t hesitate to talk about Joseph. On her social media she’s always talking about Joseph. Or when she’s live she always has to make a remark about Joseph. Seeing all of this, Joseph decided to surprise her because he may or may not have a crush on her too

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x fem!reader

Summary: You're the lead singer of a famous band composed of you and your friends Christian, and Martha. You've always had a huge crush on Joseph Quinn, and have never hesitated to render it public,but at the same time, you've convinced yourself to not have the slightest chance with him. As it turns out, you might have been wrong all along.

Warnings:none

a/n: I was tired of always making y/n an actress so she's a singer this time. Yay! Hope you like it! ps: I would be lying if I said that all I could think about while writing this wasn't the Doja cat/Noah beef...

OUT OF YOUR LEAGUE

"Do you have a celebrity crush?" You smiled knowingly as Christian and Martha furrowed their brows, looking for an answer. "God, I don't know" Christian exhaled. You looked at Martha as she pinched her lip, trying to think. "Oh!" she exclaimed "I know mine" she declared enthusiastically, clapping her hands together. There was a moment of silence. You and Christian looked at each other and laughed softly "Great," you smiled at her "who is it?" "I have no idea what his name is but he's the guy who played..." she paused to think. You snorted "are you kidding? You don't even know the character's name?" you laughed. "I'm getting there one second" she rolled her eyes. "Oh c'mon," she said exasperated "You know who" she looked at you in search of help "The marvel one." she explained " I showed you a picture the other day" Your mouth formed a perfect o as you understood who she was talking about. "Oh, of course!" you raised your eyebrows. "The winter soldier!" you said looking at the camera "Sebastian Stan" "Yes him!" Martha shouted "God he's SO hot" she said, fanning herself. "Yeah, that's true" you agreed, smiling. "I think mine would be..." Christian said, pausing a moment "I'm gonna be very basic here and say like" he waved his hands in the air "Jennifer Aniston?" he said uncertainly, looking at you for approval. "Yeah, that's always a good answer" you commented "I think she's kinda like everyone's celebrity crush, to be honest" Martha joked. "Yeah, that's true" Christian agreed. There was a moment of silence. "What about you Y/N?" the interviewer behind the camera asked. Martha and Christian simultaneously looked at you and busted out laughing. You bit back a smile and rolled your eyes. "You really have to ask?" Cristian asked sarcastically, turning to the journalist "Yeah, for real." Martha laughed "There isn't one interview where she doesn't manage to talk about him" "or about how sweet he is"Christian added "or about how beautiful he is" Martha continued "or about-" "Yeah, ok guys" you interrupted them "I think they got it" you looked at them with both irritation and amusement. "And also it's not true" you tried defending yourself "I don't talk about him that much" They both turned to you and raised their eyebrows as if to say "really?", and you gave up. "Ok, maybe I do" you giggled. You turned to the camera "My celebrity crush is Joseph Quinn" you said half-laughing. "Do you have a boyfriend?" you read the question through your Instagram live's comments. "Do I have a boyfriend?" you smiled "Good question-" you squinted to see who had asked it "Emma". "Well, see. that depends on how you interpret the question" you joked "Mentally, as many of you may know, I've been dating Joseph Quinn for about 3 years now" you laughed softly as Martha, next to you rolled her eyes dramatically. "But if by dating you mean that the other person also knows you're dating them" you tilted your head to the side "Then I guess I'm single" "OH MY GOD" Martha shouted, clearly exasperated. "Are you serious?" she asked you, amused "Ms. "I don't talk about him that much" she mimicked you, causing you to laugh and hide your face in your hands. "No,guys," she turned to the phone"You don't know this, because the interview hasn't been posted yet but today she literally had the AUDACITY to say that she doesn't talk about him much" you snorted, still hiding. "I'm sorry" you sighed "He's just so perfect". Martha rolled her eyes and you looked up at her and pouted. "Then why don't you make a move?" she said, throwing her hands in the air as a sign of frustration. "I've told you a million times before" she took your head in her hands "DM HIM" she said, shaking your head, to try and put some sense into you, before letting go. "But-" you said with a thin voice "He's famous" you frowned. She looked at you incredulously, opening her mouth to say something and then closing it immediately again, as if she couldn't find the right words to insult you with. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath "Y/N" she said, trying to stay calm "I don't know if you've noticed" she smiled very fakely "But you're famous too" she explained with the same tone you would use for a 2-year-old. You groaned and threw yourself back on the floor you were sitting on. "Why does life have to be so difficult?" you whined. "It's not Y/N" Martha said gently "You, my friend" she booped your nose affectionately and smiled"make it a lot more complicated than it should be" "Thank you so much for coming everyone!" you shouted into the microphone as you started walking backward. The crowd started cheering and shouting, begging you to stay. You really wanted to give in, but you had already prolonged your performance and the staff was signaling you to get off the stage. "I'm sorry guys, we really have to go" you said as you heard the fans complaining and a bunch of sad nos being yelled from different areas of the arena. "You were great London!" you spoke into the mic, waving and smiling at them "Thank you so much!" you blew some kisses in all directions "This was amazing!" you waved one final time before getting off the stage. "Wow" you exhaled deeply as you got backstage. "That was crazy" Christian laughed, his eyes wide, displaying his disbelief. Martha grinned enthusiastically. "I know" you sighed, shaking your head, still incredulous. "Yeah, we were so good right?" you asked the group, looking up at them, just to realize they weren't paying attention. Their eyes were fixated on a spot behind you. “Guys?” you tried getting their attention “You were amazing” You frowned and turned behind you. Your heart stopped and your mouth involuntarily slaked open as you realized who had just talked. Joseph Quinn was standing in front of you. The real, amazingly hot, subject of your 3-year-long obsession was very much there, casually smiling at you. Oh fuck. He laughed softly at your reaction "Your friend invited me here" he said nodding towards Martha. Oh, you were so gonna kill her. "O-Oh, she did ?" you turned to her with a deadly stare and she replied with a huge smile, mouthing "you're welcome". "Well, I wish we could stay and chat, but, unfortunately, I and Christian have to go" Martha said, obviously feigning sorriness. "We do?" Christian asked confused. "Yes," Martha grabbed his arm"We do." she insisted, dragging him away. "She's-"Joseph tried to find the right words. "Yeah, she's... something" you laughed softly, as he did the same. There was an awkward moment of silence. "I saw your live yesterday" he broke the silence. You widened your eyes and swallowed thickly "Y-You did?" He chuckled "I did" You felt your cheeks turn red. "And to be honest" he winced "I also saw all of the other times you've talked about me" You were about to throw up. "Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. I'm so, so sorry" you started panicky apologizing. "No no no" he laughed "You don't need to apologize" "If anything I should be" he smiled "the first time I heard you had talked about me I thought you were joking because, I mean," he gestured generally at you "you're SO out of my league" he mumbled. "But then it happened again and I wanted to text you, I really did, but then I chickened out and I kept doing so until, yesterday your friend dm'd me, and so finally" he smiled shyly "here we are". You were in shock. Your brain was buzzing and you were pretty sure your mouth was still open. "W-what?" you stuttered He chuckled and licked his lips "Would you want to get a drink with me?" he asked You blinked,incredulos. Was this a dream? "I-I-, yes!" you almost screamed. "yes, absolutely" you continued, trying to tame down your excitement. he smiled wide "Awsome!" You cleared your throat, you were still in shock "J-just give me ten minutes to change, and-and I'll be all yours" you managed to stutter out. "ok, great. I'll be waiting" he said, smiling happily. "great" you said awkwardly, starting to walk towards your dressing room. Just as you did a thought came to mind. You turned abruptly towards him and he looked confusedly at you. "Out of YOUR league?" you spat out incredulously, making him burst out laughing "Yeah" he sighed. "wow" you mumbled to yourself as you turned back "just-wow"

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn stranger things #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fluff #fluff #joseph quinn fic #stranger things #starnger things #stranger things x reader

1K notes · View notes

buckybarnesowl · 3 years ago

Text

Love in Four Acts

Pairing: fatws!Bucky x nurse!reader (featuring matchmaker!Alpine)

Word count: 7.5k

Summary: You’re a nurse living in Brooklyn. You’ve got a crush on your next door neighbour who doesn’t seem to know you exist. One day his cat finds its way into your apartment, forcing you both to finally meet. That’s when you learn that he’s James Buchanan Barnes, ex-Winter Soldier. Well, there goes your chances. Or maybe getting close to a superhero isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds.

Warnings: some mentions of Bucky dealing with past trauma and lack of confidence; Bucky has a brief emotional breakdown; minimal use of y/n; some sweetheart, but no “doll”

A/n: This is my extremely late entry for @pellucid-constellations love letter writing challenge. This idea had been stuck in my head for a while and the challenge gave me the push I needed to flesh it out so thank you, Kathie, for the inspiration! And I incorporated these two prompts:

“And I’ve never felt like that before, but something about you makes me want to feel like that.” “Is it fair to say that you read the love letter and that this means ‘yes’?”

PS: I made Dr. Raynor a good therapist because that’s what our boy deserves. Also Bucky and Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle are basically the same character and no one can tell me otherwise. There are some major references to that movie so if you haven’t seen it, my apologies.

Act I

Lose a chatty white cat? Come knock on 3B. -Y/n

You pinned the note to the cork board next to the mailboxes and made your way back up to your apartment on the third floor.

You lived in an old three story walk-up. The kind with faded brick on the outside, no elevator, creaky wood floors, and never enough electrical outlets. The pipes shuddered in the walls at random times and sometimes the lights flickered. It was home and you loved it. The rent was cheap and everyone in the building was friendly enough.

Except for your next door neighbour.

Your shy, enigma of a neighbour who looked like a modern day Greek god. That chiselled jawline, his messy-on-top-short-on-the-sides brown hair, those black t-shirts and jeans he always wore that hugged him in all the right spots. It was enough to make heart beat pick up every time you passed each other in hallway.

You tried friendly hello’s and hi’s when he first moved in, which were always met with, well, nothing. He completely ignored all of your attempts at neighbourly interactions, averting his blue eyes to the ground whenever you greeted him. So you resigned to a simple smile anytime you crossed paths, in case he finally came out of his shell.

The old adage of you always want what you can’t have definitely held up. Your crush on your neighbour only intensified as the months went on.

There was something familiar about him, and he didn’t make you feel threatened the way most jacked up men would. Maybe it was his quiet demeanour, always trying to take up as little space as possible. Whatever it was, something in the way he carried himself made you feel safe knowing that you two shared a wall. New York had all sorts of strange people. It was comforting to know you had a strong neighbour next door in case something ever happened.

Not that you needed protection. You’d grown a thick skin over the past five years—working as a nurse in the emergency department at the Brooklyn Hospital Centre meant you dealt with some challenging situations. You loved your job, but you had definitely learned to think quick on your feet, becoming a master at diffusing a situation. Though it was your compassion and empathy that made you one of the top nurses on the floor and was why you put up with the shift work—you really just loved helping others.

“So who do you belong to, huh?” you asked the white ball of fur that was purring next to you on your couch. It let out a string of chirped meows in response as it pranced back and forth, nudging its head under your hand for more pets.

The feline had jumped in from the fire escape when you opened your window after getting back from your evening shift. The air was starting to warm up as winter finally retracted its icy grip over the city. You had felt the breath of spring in the air as you walked home from the train and wanted to let some fresh air in. As you pushed the heavy guillotine-style window up, the white cat bounded into your living room like a lightning bolt, nearly giving you a heart attack. You had stuck your head out of the window to see if any of your neighbours were out, but your search came up empty. You shut the window so the cat couldn’t escape, scribbled the quick note and ran down the stairs to post it. Your new visitor was perched on your couch when you came back a few minutes later, its tail lazily twitching back and forth, having wasted no time in making itself at home.

“Well whoever they are, I bet they miss you. You sure are sweet,” you continued, answered by another string of choppy meows.

A knock on the door interrupted your dialogue, and you scooped up the cat without even thinking whether or not it would be ok with being handled that way. Sure enough, the cat snuggled into the crook of your elbow, nuzzling its head under your chin. This was the most affectionate cat you had ever met.

You suffered your second close call with a heart attack that night as you opened your door. There stood your silent, moody, painfully attractive neighbour. He was wearing a leather jacket and black leather gloves on his hands, one of which was rubbing the back of his neck as he grimaced awkwardly at you.

“Hiya, neighbour,” you said as cooly as possible, desperately trying to ignore the pounding of your heart.

“Uh, sorry to bother you so late... but I read your note.”

“This sweet love muffin is yours I presume?” you asked, nudging your chin into the cat’s fur one last time before having to give it back.

Your crush chuckled at the nickname you’d already given his pet. “I’m not sure sweet is the right word to describe him. Though he sure seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“You mean he’s not like this all the time?”

“Uh, no. He barely lets me pick him up. You did get the chatty part right though. It's kinda nice to have around actually… I mean, uh…”

You watched as his icy blue eyes darkened and looked down at his hands he was now wringing together nervously. He’s lonely, you thought to yourself. Your heart clenched tighter for him.

“Well, I’m sure he’s going to be happy to be back home with you, won’t you…” you trailed off, realising you didn’t know what to call the cat. Or his owner for that matter.

Start with the easy one, Y/n, you told yourself. “What’s his name?”

“Alpine,” your neighbour replied softly, a half smile returning to his lips as he brought his gaze back up towards you. The cat mewled at the sound of his name, causing you both to laugh.

“Well, Alpine,” another meow, “it’s time to go back home with your dad.” You lifted the cat off your chest and handed him, with a bit of reluctance, back to your neighbour. You found a morsel of courage and added, “if you ever need a cat sitter, I’d be happy to. He’s a real sweetheart.”

“Thanks a lot. That’s uh, real kind of you,” he responded, a faint blush surfacing on his cheeks.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you two get reunited. I’m Y/n, by the way.”

“Right,” he hesitated a moment, as if trying to decide if he should tell you his name. “I’m Bucky.”

“Well, Bucky, it was nice to finally meet you. Remember, if you ever need someone to watch him, or anything really, just knock.”

“Will do. G’night then.”

“‘Night, neighbour.”

You closed the door, your cheeks on fire as you let out a groan. “‘Night, neighbour,” you repeated mockingly. Could you have laid it on any thicker? And how could someone that hot be that awkward? It was adorable and only strengthened your crush.

Well, at least I know his name now, you thought. “Bucky.” It had a familiar ring to it, but you couldn’t place why.

As you lay in bed that night, your mind replaying the interaction over and over, you finally gave in and grabbed your phone. As soon as you clicked “go” after typing “Bucky” into the search field, your heart nearly stopped for the third time.

“No fucking way,” you exclaimed out loud.

Your neighbour was James Buchanan Barnes. Brainwashed ex-assassin turned Avenger. You were crushing on a literal superhero.

“Well, there goes that,” you sighed, turning over to finally try and get some sleep. At least you knew there was no chance anymore. Still, maybe you’d get lucky and at least dream about him. At this point, you’d take what you could get. You closed your eyes, smiling at the possibility as you drifted off.

-----ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ-----

Act II

[Three weeks later]

“Shit,” Bucky muttered under his breath as he darted around his sparsely furnished apartment in search of his keys.

“I bet you did this on purpose, didn’t you,” he glared at Alpine.

The cat let out a single blunt chirp as he jumped onto the back of the couch to watch his owner fret over his belongings.

Bucky couldn’t afford to miss his appointment with Dr. Raynor. That was the whole basis of the pardon: state mandated therapy for a minimum of one year in exchange for exoneration from the crimes he the Winter Soldier committed.

“Ah ha!” he exclaimed, startling Alpine off the couch as he retrieved the set of keys from one of his shoes by the door. Must have fallen off the hook, he thought. The cat began circling through his legs while meowing at him, his routine every time Bucky prepared to leave.

Bucky picked up the cat and booped its small pink nose with the tip of his own. “I’ll be back soon, buddy. Don’t tear the place up while I’m out.”

The cat meowed low, as if offended at the thought, shaking himself out as soon as Bucky placed him back down on the floor.

When Bucky thinks back on what happened next, he can’t help but chuckle at the thought of his cat being this cunning. Normally Alpine would sit at the door as Bucky left. It was his send off routine that the cat never broke. Except for today. On this particular day, Alpine bolted through Bucky’s legs and into the hallway before the supersoldier knew what had happened.

“Dammit!” he yelled without thinking.

The curse caused you to turn around, your door still open as you were just getting home from an overnight shift. This gave Alpine enough time to brush past your legs and take immediate residence under your couch.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Bucky groaned under his breath.

“I think your cat might have a crush on me,” you said, any nervousness that normally bubbled up whenever you saw Bucky was currently being dulled by your fatigue from a 12-hour shift.

“I think you’re right,” Bucky chuckled. Him and me both, he admitted internally as he felt his cheeks heat up at the intrusive thought. Clearing his throat, he quickly found his words again. “I’m sorry to do this… you look like you’re just getting back from work… but, uh, would you mind watching him for just a few hours? I have an appointment that I really can’t miss.”

Bucky’s worry at the ask melted when he felt the warmth of your smile. “Of course! It usually takes me a few hours to wind down from a shift anyways, so it’s no trouble at all.”

“You’re a lifesaver. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“Don’t sweat it. That’s what neighbours are for, right?”

Bucky felt his heart rate increase as he saw the sincerity in your eyes match the tone of your voice. How could someone this beautiful be this sweet? He felt his crush intensify with every interaction you both had, and it was almost becoming unbearable. Almost.

“Right. Well, thanks again. I’ll be back around 11. Is that okay?”

“Yup, no problem. Go on, or you’ll be late.”

“Thanks, neighbour”

“Anytime,” you said softly with your ever-present smile, making Bucky’s stomach flutter.

He nodded and turned away, before you could see how red his cheeks could go. "Thanks, neighbour"... Jesus Christ, Barnes, get it together and stop being a creep.

***

“I can sense the apprehension about asking your neighbour out. But I’m still not following how it would make you a creep. Can you try and explain that part for me?”

Bucky sighed as he looked up at the ceiling, then out the window. Dr. Raynor always forced him to articulate his thoughts in more detail than he felt comfortable with, or even capable of.

He loathed it.

And he also recognized that it was the part about this whole therapy thing that was helping him the most. Separating fears from reality. Getting at the root of his emotions, rather than burying them.

“It’s just…” he trailed off with another sigh, before forcing himself to push through the discomfort. “They're not dumb. I’m sure they know who I am. What I’ve done… there’s just no way they'd want to be with someone like me.” Bucky looked at his gloved hands pressed into his thighs. That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He could never be good enough for someone like you.

“So what I’m hearing is that because of the actions you were brainwashed into carrying out, actions that you yourself would never do, you believe you could never be good enough for this neighbour who—from what you’ve shared with me—seems to like you quite a bit. Is that right?”

“I don’t know about that last part, but, yeah, I guess that’s it,” Bucky resigned quietly, finally making eye contact with Dr. Raynor again.

“I’m really sorry you feel that way, James. I bet it feels quite lonely to think that you don’t deserve to be liked or cared about by anyone.”

Bucky felt his eyes steam. It happened sometimes when Dr. Raynor touched on a hard truth. He wasn’t there yet, though. Letting himself cry. A few drops had seeped through the cracks, but the dam he had built since getting himself back was holding steady for now.

He sniffed before responding, urging the lump in his throat to retreat.

“I just… how could someone feel safe with me? Accept me… knowing all of that?”

“Well, like we’ve talked about in other sessions, that wasn’t you. I know it’s hard for you to accept and I understand why. But it's important I keep reiterating it. Why don’t we try looking at it from a new angle and see if this helps?”

Bucky nodded. As if I've got a choice.

“Great. Now imagine someone who’s been oppressed by their government and has had all of their freedoms taken away, including providing for their family. If they steal a loaf of bread to feed their starving children, do they deserve to go to jail?”

Bucky doesn’t even need to think about it. “No.”

“And if a child is held at gunpoint and told to shoot his pet dog or else his family would be killed, is he an animal killer?”

“Absolutely not.”

“So do you see that everything isn’t black or white? That in certain circumstances, under pressure, even when we know right from wrong, the lines are blurred?”

Bucky nodded.

“So can you then see how those lines are blurred even more when someone is brainwashed and trained to go against their conscience? When someone has their free will stripped from them?”

Bucky was silent for a long moment. He was conscious of the memories playing in the background of his mind as he processed what Dr. Raynor was asking him. Memories of missions as the Winter Soldier. But there was a new process happening that surprised him. It was faint at first, but he started seeing the person in the memories not as himself, but as someone else. Like a character in a brutal horror film. He was still affected by it, but when he looked at the emotions that were coming up, the guilt he normally felt was being overpowered by empathy for the killer.

“I can see what I said affected you. What’s happening for you right now? Where did you just go?”

“I, uh—” Bucky cleared his throat, willing his eyes to stay dry. “I can see it. I can see how I... he... had no choice. He was forced. I can see it.” Bucky felt his voice tremble and he closed his eyes, breathing deep through the epiphany he’d just had.

“This is huge, James. I’m really happy to hear that. I want you to try and remember those anecdotes whenever feelings of guilt or shame arise over what the Winter Soldier was tortured into doing. I know it won’t be easy, and some days it won’t work. But I’d like you to try. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Bucky responded, opening his eyes and feeling lighter all of a sudden.

“Good. Well, that’s time for today. Good luck picking up your cat—though something tells me you won’t need it,” Dr. Raynor offered with a smile.

“Thanks, doc. For everything.”

“You’re very welcome, James. See you next week.”

***

For the first time since starting his sessions with Dr. Raynor, Bucky left her office with a smile on his face. He stopped at the florist stand he always walked past on his way home and bought a bouquet of daisies.

He practically ran up the three stories to your shared floor. His palms started sweating under his gloves the instant he knocked on your door.

A yawn escaped your mouth as you opened up. “Oh my gosh, hi. I’m so sorry. Oh wow, those are pretty. Got a big date lined up after this?”

Bucky chuckled, his nerves suddenly melting at your frantic style of talking and frank teasing. “Nah, I’ve just got this sweet neighbour who watched my cat for me and I wanted to thank them.”

Bucky noticed the grin creep across your face as you averted your gaze for an instant before reaching your hand out.

“Well c’mon in then. Let me get those in water. Al and I had just started Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind. You’re free to join us if you like.”

Bucky closed the door behind him and instinctively took off his shoes. He didn’t know what you were talking about, but he wasn’t about to turn down your invitation.

“What’s that?”

“Uhhh, Miyazaki? Hayao Miyazaki? Studio Ghibli? Anime?” You kept broadening your reference, looking increasingly more shocked when he didn’t recognize anything you were saying.

“Sorry, I lost a lot of time between now and the 40s. Not caught up on everything yet.” Bucky stopped himself suddenly. It was the first time he’d mentioned his past to anyone outside of Sam and Dr. Raynor.

“Right, oh my gosh that was so insensitive. I’m so sorry.”

Relief flooded through his veins. Dr. Raynor was right. You obviously knew who he was and clearly didn’t mind, seeing as how you'd just invited him into your apartment. In fact, you seemed almost, well, happy about it. “‘S’alright. Why don’t you enlighten me on this Miya… Miya… whatever it is.”

Bucky sat at your kitchen island as you explained your love for a specific type of animated film from a Japanese director, all while you arranged your daisies in a simple mason jar. He could get used to watching your eyes light up as you shared your passions with him.

“Ugh, I’m babbling,” you said suddenly, breaking his fixation.

“Not at all. I asked. Besides, I love hearing about this type of stuff. You don’t read about all these subcultures in the history briefings they gave me.”

“Yeah I bet. Well, we were more or less at the beginning. Wanna see what it’s all about?”

“Sure,” Bucky accepted. His cheeks were already hurting from smiling.

“Great. You drink tea? It’s mint. I made a pot already.”

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

“Gosh, I wish people still had those 1940s manners. Go make yourself comfortable on the couch.”

Bucky blushed at the complement as he sat beside Alpine, who was curled up and purring. “My ma raised me to always be polite.”

“Well, she did a good job,” you said, filling up a mug and handing it to him. “Ready?” you asked.

Bucky leaned back into your couch. It was a lot more comfortable than his own. “Ready.”

You pressed play and Bucky settled in for what would be the most incredible film experience he’d had in his life. He didn’t know animation could look like that. He vaguely remembered seeing a cartoon rabbit, but that was in black and white. He’d never seen anything like this. He was so enthralled that he didn’t notice you had fallen asleep until the end credits began to roll. All at once Bucky remembered you had just come back from work that morning. Nice going, Barnes, he thought guiltily.

You were stretched out on the chaise part of your l-couch, so he covered you with the blanket that was draped over the back of the sofa. You stirred slightly, rolling onto your side, but you were out cold. He scribbled a message in his notebook, quietly tearing it out and then folding it in half. He left it next to the teapot before scooping up Alpine, then did the same with his shoes before he snuck out of your apartment. He paused, realising he had no way to lock the door behind him. He’d stay in today and keep an ear on your door to make sure no one entered.

***

When you woke for your shift that evening, your eyes immediately fell on the note.

Thanks for watching Alpine. And for the culture lesson. I’d like to learn more if you’re open to teaching. -Bucky

-----ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ-----

Act III

[Two months later]

“I’m so excited for this one. It’s my go-to comfort film when I’m sick or feeling down. I mean, sure, it might not be the best one, but… I dunno, there’s just something about the story that I love. And we're watching it without subtitles this time because the voiceovers are THAT good.”

“Oh wow, isn’t that sacrilege?” You knew he was teasing you. Bucky’s lips always turned up on one side and he scrunched his nose making the corners of his eyes crinkle when he was teasing you.

“Nuh-uh, not for Howl’s Moving Castle. The voices are just so right for this one.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Somewhere during the past few months the term of endearment had slipped out of Bucky’s mouth. You didn’t object and he kept on saying it. The way the nickname made your stomach perform backflips was almost unbearable. Almost.

Right from the beginning, the opening scenery of the castle moving through the fog had you swooning, as per usual. You leaned into Bucky’s shoulder and he immediately tucked you into his side.

That was also a new development you’d made together sometime during your previous movie night. The film on that night had been Spirited Away—you were taking Bucky through all the Miyazaki films in chronological order. The scene where Haku takes Chihiro to see her parents in the pigpen always got to you and you leaned into Bucky for comfort out of sheer instinct. He wrapped an arm around you, and you both stayed like that for the rest of the film.

Assuming the same position on this night, you exhaled, immediately relieved that he seemed open to it. You had agonised over the last movie night, worried that levelling up on the intimacy with Bucky had just been a one-off. Or that you’d scared him away by being too clingy? Affectionate? Too you? Well, all of those anxieties melted away as you felt his muscular hold around you tighten. Being that close, smelling him. It had you reeling like a hormone-filled teenager. I could get used to this, you thought as you relaxed into his warmth and settled your eyes back on the film.

About half way through through, something suddenly clicked in your mind. You’d never thought about it until now, but there were striking similarities between the lives of Bucky and Howl. Both were used as tools for political reasons that went against their values. Both seemed to believe they were monsters and struggled at accepting affection.

Not that Bucky had shared that with you in so many words. But through bits and pieces, you could easily glean he still felt shame about his past. You tried to show him that none of that mattered to you. You didn’t want him to think you pitied him either, but boy, did your heart hurt when you thought about everything he went through. All the history you had read. He had his life stolen from him, was tortured, and then plunked back into a completely different world. Twice, if you counted the blip. How was he still here, still fighting, still trying, and all with that wry sense of humour? You’d never fully understand, but you were grateful for it.

“How’re you liking it so far?” you asked softly, pausing the movie and pulling out from under Bucky’s arm. You wanted to check in without seeming like you were mother henning him.

“It’s really sweet. And the scenery is beautiful. I can see why you like this one the best.”

“Want a refill on your tea? Or I can get you a snack? Are you cold? I have more blankets—”

“Hey, what’s going on? You seem nervous.” He shifted his position so that you were facing each other.

You sighed seeing the concern ripple across his forehead, the thought hitting you like a ton of bricks: right, he’s a supersoldier, you can’t get anything past him.

“It’s just…”

“You can say it, sweetheart. I won’t be upset,” he assured as he took your hand. You were suddenly aware of the lack of gloves. Well that’s new. You stopped your brain from going down that corridor and refocused.

“It’s just, the rest of the movie gets a bit dark. And I forgot how much it surrounds the war and how Howl is forced to fight in a way that makes him feel like a monster and I—”

A gentle smile slowly bloomed on Bucky’s face. “You’re worried about me?”

Your cheeks warmed at the question. “Yeah,” you admitted.

“C’mere,” he whispered, opening his arm back up to you. “I promise if it’s too much I’ll tell you, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay,” you whispered back, resuming your previous position against his torso. Though this time, your hands were clasped. You felt him press his lips into the top of your head before he leaned his chin there. The backflips your stomach had done at the beginning started all over again, and you pressed play on the movie before you melted.

***

You were worried about him. You were worried about him. Bucky didn’t know what he was doing with you. It wasn’t like in the forties. Not by a long shot. Besides, those days of courting and going out dancing now floated around his brain like something he’d seen in a dream once but couldn’t decipher how any of it worked.

All he knew was he’d decided at the last second to not wear his gloves this time and when he took your hand with both of his, you didn’t flinch so he had to be doing something right.

Bucky didn’t let go of your hand the whole movie, except during one of the war scenes when his grip tightened enough that you had to gently ask him to loosen it. His stomach dropped at the thought that he had hurt you, but you assured him you were fine, wiggling your fingers in front of him as proof. With reluctance, he took your word for it. Though his guilt faded when you interlocked your fingers with his once more and leaned back into his chest and you started the film again.

You had been right. Something about the movie did finally get to him. Maybe it was how convinced Howl was that he would become the monster he hated. Maybe it was the fear that Sophie wouldn’t love him as he truly was. All he knew was that when Sophie told Howl to come find her in the future, disproving every worry Howl had, Bucky finally felt the dam crack. He tried to even his breathing. Tried to focus on something else. Anything else. Nothing stopped the constant steady stream of tears that began flowing down his cheeks. By the time the credits began to roll, Bucky couldn’t stop his body from shuddering with each stifled sob.

“Oh, James,” you consoled in a hushed voice, pulling him into a hug. The instant your arms were around him the entire structure snapped. The dam had broken completely and it all came rushing out. The guilt for every single person he’d killed. The grief for what he had been forced to do. The anger at HYDRA for taking away his choices and stealing his memories. The agony of losing his life. His family. Steve.

All of it gushed out of him in choked, heaving sobs, melting into a blubbering mess they way Howl melted when his hair colour potion was accidentally ruined.

The only tether to the present came from the comforting circles Bucky felt you rubbing between his shoulder blades. And your voice, offering him sweet assurances that helped ground him through the first real emotional release he had had in, well, maybe ever.

“You’re safe here. I've got you. Let it all out.”

Bucky was so grateful that you didn’t release your hold until his breathing evened out to the occasional hiccup. He was sure if you had let go even a minute sooner, he might have been carried off in the flood of his own tears, pulled under the waves, never to surface again.

When you told him you were just going to get him some tissues and a glass of water, he felt himself nod as he wiped his face with his sleeve.

Bucky gratefully accepted the tissues first before the water when you returned. He suddenly became acutely aware of the episode he’d just had in your living room and was mortified.

“Ugh, thanks,” he replied sheepishly before turning away to blow his nose. Then he took the water, downing it in one go, desperately trying to calculate the best route out of this before you could reject him. It was inevitable. There was no way you would want to continue spending time with him after witnessing this.

“Better?”

“Much,” he assured before releasing shaky sigh as he leaned back into your couch. “I’m really sorr—”

“Nope. You don’t get to finish that sentence.”

Bucky was jolted by your bluntness, and it shocked him out of his self-doubt spiral. Were you angry? He was expecting you to call it a night, maybe make an excuse about having to work, then simply stop inviting him over. But anger?

“Listen to me,” you directed with a firm tone, taking both his hands and making sure you had his gaze before continuing. “You, James Buchanan Barnes, have absolutely nothing to be sorry about. This world has done nothing but shit on you and yet here you are feeling like you’re not even allowed to be sad sometimes. That’s fucking bullshit and I refuse to let you apologize for having emotions. You got that?”

Bucky smiled at how wrong he had been before wiping another rogue tear from his eye. He had no idea what he had done to deserve your protective kindness, but he wasn’t about to refuse it.

“Got it.”

“Okay then, I’m glad that’s settled.”

Bucky laughed, a full and hearty laugh at that. Gosh, you were something else.

“What? I wasn’t joking!”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he said, still chuckling. You accepted him. You accepted him. All of him.

“Then what’s so funny?”

He loved when you got that confused, almost annoyed look on your face.

“Nothin’. Just you. It’s endearing how passionate you get.”

“Oh, I’m endearing am I?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Hmmmm, well I’m glad someone thinks so. Usually my “passion” is too much for most people.”

“Now that I refuse to believe.” Bucky’s chest tightened at the thought of anyone not loving everything about you, and he squeezed your hand to emphasise his sentiments.

“It’s okay. I keep a pretty rough work schedule that’s never aligned with most people. The loner life suits me fine. Though, I’ll admit it has been nice having someone to share my time with these past few months.”

Bucky felt his heart clench as you pulled your hand away from his grasp after that confession.

“Hey, no,” he objected at the loss of contact, tugging your hand back. “Please don't pull away. I’ve really enjoyed whatever this is too.”

“Yeah?” you asked him. Your eyes were desperately searching his for assurance. Gosh, he’d get lost in your gaze if he wasn’t careful.

“Yeah,” he assured, slowly leaning towards you. This is it, Barnes. Now’s your chance.

Bucky’s phone rang, startling them both.

“Shit,” he muttered as he flipped it open. He watched your face change as Sam rattled off logistics and coordinates and timelines. He hated that he was the reason for the sudden look of disappointment on your face.

“You have to go, don’t you,” you asked when he closed the phone.

“Yeah. Probably for a while this time. I hate to ask, but—”

“James, please, you don’t even need to ask anymore. Of course I’ll watch Alpine. He and I are best buds now,” you said, petting the purring fluff ball that was curled up on your side of the couch.

“I’ll come back in a few and give you a spare a set of keys so you can grab all of his food and toys.”

“You’re… you’re leaving right away?” you asked with a surprised tone.

“Yeah, sorry. I…” he sighed before continuing, “It’s part of the job.”

His heart sank at the hint of sadness in your voice. How would this ever work? How could he do this to you every time he had to go on a mission? There’s no way you would ever be ok with this.

“No, don’t apologise. I was more worried about you having to go straight to work after that. But I get it, trust me. I know I’m nothing like a superhero, but working in a hospital I do understand urgency.”

“You’re a superhero to me, sweetheart,” he said, holding onto that thin thread of hope that maybe you really could accept him as he was, supersoldier job and all.

Bucky felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. Leaning in, he placed a tender kiss on your cheek, memorising the scent of your shampoo, the softness of your skin beneath his lips, the way your breath hitched at the contact. He locked those memories away where no one would ever get them before pushing himself up off the couch.

“Just come back in one piece, okay?” you ordered, looking into his eyes for assurance.

“Always do,” he offered. Whether it was for you or himself, he couldn’t say.

-----ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ-----

Act IV

[Two weeks later]

“This is not one piece, Bucky.”

Your neighbour had returned, bloody, bruised, and barely standing.

“‘S fine. I’m fine. Supersoldier, remember?” he asked, twisting his vibranium arm in the air to emphasise his point. “I’ll heal in no time.”

You were not convinced, nor comforted. “This is… fuck, Bucky. I see a lot of wounds in emerg, but this is bad.”

He winced as you passed yet another alcohol wipe over a particularly deep gash running from the middle of his forehead down to his temple. “This one needs stitches.”

“Whatever you say, nurse.”

You squinted your eyes together, sending him a disapproving glare at his attempt to lighten the situation.

“Sweetheart, please stop worrying. It’s part of the job. I’ve had worse.”

“Worse?! What do you… no, that’s not what this is about.” You exhaled in a frustrated huff, “I can’t do this right now.”

“Do what?” His teasing grin softened as he pulled your hands down from treating his forehead and into his lap. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“You!”

He jumped a bit at your sudden exclamation. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before finding your words again.

“Bucky, I saw the news. I saw what you and Sam were up against. You… you could have died.” You felt your breath catch in your throat. “And then Alpine and I would be…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Another word and you would fall apart.

“If something happened, I know Alpine would be fine with you.”

“Alpine?! What?” Was he seriously making light of this right now? “Bucky, do you see yourself? This isn’t a fucking joke.”

“I know, you’re right. I’m sorry.” He tried to bring your hand up to his lips, but you pulled yourself from his grip before he had the chance.

“No more talking until I’m done,” you ordered as you disinfected your hands again to pick up where you left off.

You couldn’t bear any more placating. You were seething. How could he find humour in leaving you? Bucky coming into your life had been the best thing that had ever happened to you. You finally found someone that saw you, that understood you, that seemed to truly like you for you, flaws and all. How could he joke about leaving you alone again?

Then it hit you. You weren’t really together. Sure you were friends. Maybe closer than that. But you’d never moved passed the cuddling stage. Maybe he just didn’t think of you in that way.

You felt a tear stream down your cheek as you tied the final stitch.

“There. The rest will clean off fine in a hot shower. I think I should go.”

“Hold on a second.” He grabbed your hand again, this time he wasn’t grinning. “I’m really sorry, I know this looks bad but—”

“No. I really can’t do this right now.” You tugged your hand free and got up from the makeshift nursing station you had laid out on his kitchen table. Then you took a deep breath before saying making your case, “You know, Alpine’s not the only one that would care if you didn’t come back.”

You turned on your heels and rushed out of his apartment before you broke down.

***

“Well, I really fucked that up didn’t I, Al?”

The cat responded with a single low mewl before jumping down from the chair next to where you had been sitting to go curl up on the sofa.

Bucky had assumed you would be fine seeing him banged up considering how often you encountered injuries and blood at work. Sure, he was a little more broken than usual after a mission, but he figured you’d just be happy to see him. He had completely misread the situation and now you were clearly upset.

He took his time showering, letting the hot water soothe his aching muscles as he figured out the best way to finally confess how he felt about you. To make you understand that losing you—not coming back to you—that it wasn’t an option for him.

When he told Dr. Raynor how every time he tried to tell you how he felt that the words simply vanished, she suggested writing you a letter. He’d passed it off as old fashioned at the time, something that past Bucky might have done. He was trying to let his old self go, accept himself as he was now. Modern Bucky. Whoever that was.

But as he stood in the shower, hot water raining down on him, remembering the hurt in your eyes as you more or less told him how you cared about him, he knew it was the only way he could ever fully communicate exactly how much he had fallen in love with you over these past few months.

Once he was dry and dressed, Bucky rummaged through the box of files and papers S.H.I.E.L.D. had given him after he received his pardon. He found the notepad and pen that he knew was buried somewhere amongst the folders. Then pushing all the wound care supplies to one side of the table, he sat down and started writing. The words flowed without another thought and he didn’t stop until he’d signed his name at the bottom.

***

Your sobs finally slowed to the occasional hiccup. You took some deep breaths then made your way out to the kitchen for water. It wasn’t until you’d downed a glass and were turning off the lights before crawling back into bed that you noticed it. The white envelope, resting on the hardwood a few inches from your front door.

Bucky, you thought. You smiled a little, suddenly feeling sheepish at the tantrum you threw. You knew he cared about you. You felt it in the way he squeezed your hand. The way he tucked you under his arm during movies. When he had pressed his lips to your cheek the night he’d left on the mission.

You leaned down to pick up the envelope, then settled into the couch to read its contents.

Y/n,

I need to apologise. And before your brain tries to deny me of that need, please just hear me out.

I’m sorry for making you think that it didn’t matter if I came back.

I want to be honest, there was a time not that long ago when that would have been true. I would go on missions as a penance. Trying to make up for all of the bloodshed that I caused as the Winter Soldier. But I know now that it wasn’t my fault. That I don’t deserve to keep punishing myself for crimes that I had no choice in committing. The reality of it is punishment enough–something I can now accept I didn’t deserve.

But it happened. And I can’t change that. I can’t change my past or who I am today as a result. I won’t ever be able to be a regular citizen in society. I will always be connected to that life in some way because it’s what I know. But I also know a lot more now. I’ve read things and experienced things that have made me see life differently.

And so much of that is thanks to you.

Now when I go on missions, it’s not as penance but an opportunity to do something good. Not just to be better for me or for others, but to be better for you. And I’ve never felt that before, about someone else, but something about you makes me want to feel like that.

You’re the sun pushing its way between cracks in the rain clouds, casting your rays through my past and lighting up a rainbow, bringing colours into my life that I didn’t know existed until now. Until you.

I’ve fallen in love with your smile and your laughter. With the way your eyes light up when you talk about your favourite film or a new song you want to show me. With your compassionate heart and the way you always accept others as they are, no matter what they’ve come from.

I’ve fallen in love with you.

I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same, but I couldn’t bear you not knowing how much you mean to me. How I promise not to leave you alone with Alpine—I promise to come back to you. Every time. No matter how long it takes. If you’ll have me.

With love,

Your James

The waterworks were back in full force as you pressed the letter to your chest. But this time they were happy tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears from being overwhelmed with love for your neighbour. For the man who had been put through so much. Yet, despite it all, still wanted to find beauty in the world. Wanted to find a reason to be good. And the reason he had chosen was you.

On instinct, you rushed out your apartment door and began knocking frantically on Bucky’s.

The second it opened, your mouth crashed into his with such force you nearly knocked him over.

It was passionate and needy, your arms wrapping around his neck as you felt both his palms cup your cheeks, one hard one soft. The sensation gave you goosebumps. Your lips explored each other from every angle, making sure every supple edge was surveyed. Your tongues danced ever so softly in the background until you both finally came up for air.

“Is it fair to say that you read the letter and that this means ‘yes’?” he asked as he pressed his forehead into yours. His pupils were blown wide as you gazed into the ocean of his eyes.

“Yes, James. I’ll have you. All of you. If you’ll have me?”

“One hundred times, yes. God, I love you,” he muttered, pressing his lips into your forehead before pulling you into his arms.

“I love you too,” you whispered into his chest, breathing in his scent. This was real. He was real.

Suddenly a slew of chirps erupted from Alpine as the cat weaved its way through both of your legs.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was gloating,” Bucky chuckled.

“Hmmm, well he is the reason we’re here.”

“Maybe it was his plan all along. To bring me to you.”

“If it was, well then I owe him a thank you.” You tilted your head down towards the white feline still prancing around you both. “Thanks, Al, for bringing me my James.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, as if the words were only intended for the cat. But Bucky heard you loud and clear.

“I am yours, for as long as you’ll have me,” Bucky confirmed softly, the warmth of it heating every inch of your being. The beating of his heart echoing in your ear was all you needed to know he meant every word.

la fin

1K notes · View notes

the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 2 years ago

Text

Word of the day {6}

Oneshot summary; A hitman assigned to kill the Russian ghost, but what happens when the only time you can't fail, do?

Pairing: Winter Soldier x reader

Rating: Explicit

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Oneshot

Word; 6.5k

Warnings; canon type violence, near death experience, d/s themes, choking, non-con to a beginning (don’t like any of the TW then don’t read)

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: So yeah, as I said, I will do some catch up’s on things I still want to finish before starting anything else, so here is probably one of my favourite Advent calendar chapters I had planned. Ps, translations will be at the end and excuse me if somethings isn’t correct, my rusty Russian needed some aid from google translate.

MAIN MASTERLIST

ADVENT CALANDER MASTERLIST

Fuck, fuck. Even if you could've sworn aloud from how harshly your heart beat against your ribcage, you wouldn't have done it, fearing your hunter would snap up the sound.

You weren't used to this role as prey. You'd never even imagined it as possible. But now it was and your hunter was none other than the name you'd written down when your hunt started. The one you'd stared at countless times as it glared back at you from the pages of your ledger.

The Winter Soldier.

As few, you'd heard of him. Like anyone living, you hadn't seen him. But, until now, his reputation hadn't set enough respect in you compared to everyone else. It had merely been a whisper everyone feared. The phantom of the east. The Russian ghost. The Winter Soldier.

Now, however, you felt the same fear everyone before you had. Now when the Soldier was hunting you.

You regretted ever signing the contract with that damn goodie two-shoe company that paid you a ridiculous amount even before you knew the name of your target. Why had you done it? You never said yes to things you weren't sure you could finish. But his name, once you'd been informed of it, hadn't stifled enough fear in you and that was the problem that got you here from the beginning.

You could and did blame your contractors for apparently not understanding the meaning of a hitman and that it was your job to take out the person whose name they'd given you. They'd ruined your plan and thoughtful positioning by being brainless enough to open fire upon the shot from his rifle rather than yours. Despite knowing you already were there to eliminate the target.

Though not anticipating their reaction, you knew that his shot must ring ahead of yours. Otherwise, you couldn't localise him.

After weeks of tracking him, it wasn't until the man you were here to protect pranced around in a suit to show himself off in public, acting like a goddamm beacon even during the day, you'd gotten a trail on the ghost. He felt more like a shadow in your peripheral than someone you could stare at straight on. But you'd noticed him, lingering in the shadows enough to become one with them.

When the big event finally came, you'd taken your position and estimated you had approximately five to seven seconds after the Soldier's shot echoed to find and line up your shot before he would retreat into the shadows again. And you'd found him.

However, the shot you'd lined up so perfectly ended up being a centimetre awry when he'd flinched upon one of your contractor's associates unknowingly came close to him with their flailing shots. Yet, those were margins you didn't have.

Rather than a hole piercing the line right above the Soldier's mask. It clipped his hair. And that was all he needed to know he wasn't the only hunter in the field.

Out of everyone, your first and single mistake had been when facing the Winter Soldier.

Facing him may be an exaggeration. But seeing how he was as good as they come, the silencer on your sniper didn't help when he'd been able to calculate which direction the bullet had come from and thus finding you behind the gun.

You didn't need more than to see his masked face turn towards you whilst looking into the scope of your rifle to know he'd spotted you. Those eyes, hidden beneath his mask like the rest of his face, made you urgent to escape the building you'd been perched upon.

Fuck, the Winter Soldier had seen you.

You quickened your tempo, feeling your rifle bump harshly against your backside from how the bag you slung over your shoulder jostled for each step you took. You'd already tugged on a jumper over your shirt and flung the cap you'd worn someplace when you'd hurried down the fire escape. Not knowing nor caring where it ended up.

The moment you hit the ground, you'd pulled up the hood of your jumper. And though it bought you some time, in the end, you knew it would be worthless to try and blend in with the crowd. Because if the Soldier even had gotten the slightest sight of what you wore, he would find you and if it so happened to be in the sea of people, you didn't hesitate that he would pull the trigger anyway.

Despite your primal instinct repeating 'safe in masses', you didn't weave through the crowd to reach your location quicker because you knew it would make the Soldier's job more difficult if he couldn't spot you directly. So you kept your head down, attempting to look around you with nothing more than glances which could pass off as any civilian watching their surroundings.

Yet, you couldn't catch even the tiniest of glimpses of him. Not even a shadow shifting in the corner of your eyes. Maybe that was why you felt a keen need to get to the apartment the company contracting you had suggested renting in a remote part of the town, gather the few things you needed and leave.

But for some reason, as you moved through the mass of people -your pace not frowned upon as everyone tried to get somewhere as soon as possible- it didn't feel like someone hunted you, seeing how no shiver of an unconscious knowledge that someone followed you erupted. Not even a building unease that stemmed from sensing how somebody watched you.

But you knew the Russian ghost was somewhere. If not on your heels, then at a vantage point to follow you unnoticed. That was why you knew, as soon as you entered the apartment complex, you didn't have much time to get in and get out before the Soldier figured out where you stayed.

When finally parting from the crowd and entering the motel, you rushed up the stairs rather than taking the elevator, breath pushing from your lungs in a ragged manner. You tried to ease the sound as you opened the door to the fifth floor and jogged down the corridor, only stopping once to unlock the door to your room. But that was when you froze.

You held your breath.

Someone was here.

No one was sitting on the couch. Nor by the table in the kitchen area. But there was no doubt. Something felt wrong.

It was silent and none of the few windows was ajar. Still, the air wasn't the same as when you left earlier. It wasn't purely because your heart was still racing. You could sense how someone disturbed the air by purely breathing.

You let out the air you'd kept in your lungs as you stepped over the threshold, silencing your breathing as much as possible whilst pulling your rifle bag from your shoulder and silently putting it on the floor right by the entrance. One hand sneaked beneath your jumper and grasped the gun you always had for safety strapped around your torso. Raising it, you slowly closed the door before continuing into the apartment.

The hair on your body stood as soon as you did. Now the feeling that had been absent swept over you in full force.

You felt the gaze upon you so clearly, but the moment you shifted to where the heavy stare came from, it switched places. It felt like you were going crazy, paranoia gripping you in its fearful clutch. Thus wherever your eyes flickered, nothing was there, even if you could've sworn on it. And then, a sudden gleam of metal shimmered in the edge of your vision.

Lightning-fast you spun around. Not hesitating on pulling the trigger as you did.

Your instinct hadn't lied. Seeing how the Winter Soldier now emerged from the dark. However, what made your jaws clench, was that the bullet from your silenced gun didn't hit him, not because you would've missed this time. One of his arms was metal. Gleaming and with a red star on it. And with it, he'd deflected the bullet heading for his chest.

You had no time to reflect over the bullet, now buried in the wall, as he stalked forwards. Instead, you fired another two shots as you backed away. Both deflected similarly to the first one.

Your heart switched from beating steady and heavy in your chest from running to plunging into short and sharp taps as your eyes widened, following the Soldier as he advanced towards you like bullets didn't hail over him. Maybe he found your attempt of putting one in him arduous because as soon as he was close enough, he ripped the gun from your hand.

It flew across the room and crinkled to pieces because of the strength in his cybernetic arm. Still, you had no time to marvel at the fascinating weapon the gleaming piece of metal connected to him was. Thus now, it came towards you.

You tried to move faster, rip the knife you always carried as a last resort on your forearm from its sheet. Though it quickly became meaningless, seeing how, with an inhuman speed, those cold digits wrapped around your throat.

As he drove you into the wall, your head whipped backwards with enough force that silvery stars danced wherever your wide-eyed gaze flickered.

You groaned, attempting to raise your hand and spear the metal arm pinning you in place. But the Soldier was faster, way too fast. The knife barely left your side before his flesh hand gripped your wrist and pinned it against the wall.

There was no question that his strength wasn't solely contained to his prosthetic, seeing how the power he'd immobilised your hand with was enough for it to twitch open and the blade clatter to the ground.

Although your advantages were few, perhaps even none existing, you held something over him now. His hands were occupied by pinning you in place, meaning you still had one unrestricted.

You tried to use all those dirty tricks pure life and death situations brought. You attempted to find a soft spot on his arm, but the metal was solid and only whirred beneath your grabbing. Then you tried to pull at the brown and jagged hair hanging as curtains around that masked face. However, reading your intention when your hand shot forth, the Winter Soldier moved his head out of your reach.

You couldn't reach those dark locks to yank at them. But there was still something within reach.

Not anticipating what you would do next upon your failure, the Soldier was too late to move away from your fingers dragging down his face.

Your nails scraped downwards, forming red marks in their wake. The angry red lines started at the line of his hair and trailed down to his glasses. When they hit the fabricated edge, you were determined to continue your painting, so you buried your fingers underneath their hem and yanked.

The protection once separating his and your eyes fell to the ground.

You tried to get further, not only with your nails over his skin so it wouldn't only be his gaze meeting meet yours, but his whole face. Although, as your hand dropped, it wasn't to continue where you left off nor tug off the remaining piece of his mask. It was to the tightening hold around your throat, cutting the oxygen to your lungs.

Desperation urged your action of clawing his hand. You knew it would be useless because this wasn't an arm of flesh and blood. It couldn't feel pain. This was metal. Strong and non-human, creating more pain in you than its owner as your nails caught in the small gaps between plates.

The killing strike was here, you thought. When the hunter came too close to his prey. Still, it wasn't with fear you watched him when your gaze flickered up to meet his. It was anger.

For a few seconds, time froze as his eyes held yours.

Blue, cold and lifeless eyes had no mercy as they met yours. They were piercing in a haunting and detached way. It didn't feel like it was a human looking at you. It felt like it was a machine.

Your vision blurred when your chest started to convulse. Body screaming for air. Still, you tried maintaining eye contact with the Soldier until your eyes slowly started to drop.

But then, seconds before you plunged into complete darkness, before you went under the surface of a silent and waterless sea... the grip around your throat eased.

The breath you sucked in was almost so hard it hurt your lungs. You hadn't even noticed your head tipped forwards. Nonetheless, it shot upwards as life now returned to your body.

With eyes wide open as you hungrily sucked fresh air down your throat, you found the Winter Soldier had adverted his eyes. However, as they found yours again, he didn't look at you with the same expression as earlier. Now his brows were furrowed.

Something about the action brought back his humanity, maybe from how something passed his gaze momentarily. You had no idea what it was, nor could you figure it out as you got something else to focus on.

"кто послал вас?" Even if you hadn't seen his mouth move, his rough voice was hard to miss. Perhaps a combination of the mask still hiding his lower face and how he hadn't used it recently.

"English only", you breathed, seeing how the foreign words carried no meaning to you even if you understood they had been a question. His head tipped to the side and you saw the muscles in his temples work. You don't know what he was doing, at least not until you heard him speak and realised he'd tested the words on his tongue before saying them aloud.

"Who sent you?" A Russian accent tinted the sentence. Still, the intonation wasn't as heavy as someone native to a Slavic language. There was a distinctiveness to how he spoke for someone with English as their native language, meaning that the Winter Soldier didn't have his origin from the east as the rumour had it.

"Someone that doesn't fancy getting shot", his eyes narrowed, possibly thinking back to his target. If he were even half as much of a machine as you thought, he wouldn't know much about the person he would eliminate, just their name and how they looked. Like you, honestly.

"Do you work for them?" You quirked a brow in an answer, but it seemed the Soldier wasn't one to play by any book by his, seeing how he instantly suppressed your air supply to the barest minimum.

"For now", you said through gritted teeth, feeling his fingers stop pressing as harshly as they'd done moments earlier.

"Contractor". You didn't know the meaning of his gruff huff, but you would get an explanation quickly as he leant in close. "Your current one is dead. I have people who want you".

Though his breath didn't fan across your face, you felt it seep through the vents on his mask. Up close, there was almost something animalistic behind his eyes and that was when you realised it. The Winter Soldier was nothing more than a dog on a leash for an unknown party. So, the words he spoke weren't his own.

"I don't want to work for your handlers". You suspected those who held the Soldier's leash were the same people wanting to hire you for whatever work they meant. But though you were in a shady business, you had some backbone to always request a one-and-done contract. Freedom, in other words. And you knew whoever he worked for wouldn't take kindly on that particular request. Not when staring at the Soldier you now knew had none.

"Why don't you join? They know everything about you". You'd thought about stepping over a line you couldn't come back from. You really had, but not only did the virtuous side always pay better -both for your actions and silence- but they also hid your identity. They didn't want to get themselves caught with red lining the ground their company stood on and knowing you were the person who could make their precious empire fall, they wanted you to be silent and invisible.

You'd been close to dying and the Soldier was still in control of your life. Nevertheless, you sneered at the thought of him attempting to persuade you to consider joining his side.

Knowing that you would rather die with your pride intact than work for his handlers, you spat at his boots.

Irritation flared in his light blue eyes, setting them on fire.

He let go of your wrist and tugged you forward with his metal arm so you could feel his harsh breaths through his mouth-cover as he stared down at you.

"плохой ход", he growled, fingers pressing into the sides of your throat again, a threat he could finish what he earlier hadn't.

Upon the reminder that if he merely wanted to, he could take your life like water smithing a flame, you struggled against him. His cold eyes watched you for barely a second, seemingly enough for him to recognise the blaze of defiance in your eyes but not enough for your fingers nor nails to reach him once more concerning how he swiftly spun you around.

His metal arm shifted its grip to clutch your neck, making you feel like an animal being held by the scruff off its neck. His other hand collected your wrists behind your back. Nonetheless, it felt like you could wrestle yourself out of this hold. At least your estimated your ods as better when your hunter couldn't simply tighten his finger to cut your airflow. But as if the Soldier could read your mind, your body was soon pressed to the wall.

Even if you weren't wrestling on the ground and he could utilise his larger body to pin you down solely with his weight, you somehow felt that was the case anyways. You could barely do more than furiously attempt to dig your nails into his hand and wriggle against the firm body aiming and succeeding too well to immobilise you.

It barely felt like he struggled to keep you under wraps while you snarled in frustration as nothing seemed to work to even move the Soldier.

"Your choice", he began, voice unhumanly even. "Join or-". You'd struggled against him, not thinking what your squirming could lead to, at least not until the Soldier behind you cut himself off with a hiss, his gloved fingers reactively digging into the muscle in your neck.

It sounded like you'd burned him while his body grew rigid, almost as if frostbit stiffened his limbs, but neither had happened. What happened, however, was that you'd accidentally pushed your ass straight into his crotch.

You don't know why, but your breath caught as a sudden new tension entered the air. It was something about the Soldier stilling until it felt like another wall was pressed against your back. And then, when he finally moved, you froze, body locking as you went into shock, a sensation that you would start retching skyrocketed together with your pulse and threatened to destroy your eardrums. In any other case, you would've thought it was from the adrenaline plunging, but if anything, it surged once more.

The hand earlier clamping down on your wrists curled over your hip. And almost experimentally, the Soldier rolled his hips into yours.

Your eyes widened as you tried to look at him to see if he truly was doing what you thought he was, but even if you managed to twist your head, you couldn't see much more than his brown locks in your peripheral.

But you didn't need to see what he did as you could feel it.

Once again, he rocked his body into yours, and you gasped, but not in pleasure. It was something between horror and shock. The Soldier you earlier had glared at was a machine. He didn't feel wired for this. And yet, he rolled his hips into you again -now at an angle upwards, lifting you slightly off your feet- causing your heart to hammer in your chest.

Your breath stuttered, heart jumping unregulated as you wriggled, but it did little to help you. Thus, it only spurred the Soldier on.

"Is this how you lose your claws, котенок?" You'd never heard a taunt that sounded this detached from a teasing lilt, nor a word that you somehow felt was so familiar despite not being said in your language.

"N-no!" He doesn't answer your objection, only presses his hips against your ass until you're entirely pushed up on your toes this time.

"руки на стене", you bite back a pained whimper as the hand on your neck forces your cheek further against the wall. "руки на стене", he repeated the phrase, accentuating each word carefully this time. Regardless, you didn't understand his command until his flesh hand gripped one of your hands and smacked it against the sleek surface of the wall harshly enough your palm stung. With a slight tremble, you raised your other, pressing it as flat against the surface as the other.

His hand leave yours and the next place he's pressing it into is your crotch. There's nothing gentle about how he does it. No trail down your body with his fingertips, no he cups your heat without warning, palm pushed against your clit as the pads of his fingers seek to bend the seem of your tactical pants as far inwards towards your pussy as possible.

You let out a sound you don't want to admit... is a moan. Even if it's a surprised one. The Winter Soldier can't make you feel good. He'd had you an inch of your life a few minutes ago and how he touched you now was no less gentle. And yet... you fought the need to remain still when he circled his fingers.

You don't only imagine tasting metal when you bit down on your inner cheek to keep quiet, not in fear of anyone else hearing what he was doing to you, but rather the Soldier right behind you doing so. There was no way in hell that he could know -despite having fought him with the dirtiest tricks in the books moments earlier- his deft touch made warmth swirl in your stomach.

"Why so silent?" He leaned closer, enough for his hair to brush against your neck. It tickled, but the sensation faded compared to his fingers curling further into your heat, causing your eyes to press tightly shut.

"котенок...", his voice dipped into something new as he spoke, something the Soldier shouldn't be able to reach. Attempting to hide the shiver running down your spine, you struggle against him again, though there's little you can do to push him off when he still has you on your toes.

Despite your hope flickering if you would get out of this situation, you push against the wall in one last attempt.

You'd prayed you could challenge his balance, but the ever calculating Soldier braced against your efforts and soon, you feel a hand against your neck again.

Even if it's his flesh hand, the way his gloved fingers dig into it is as forceful as the cybernetic arm trailing down your side and settling over the curve of your ass.

"You disappoint me", he breathed against your neck as the fingers of his metal hand grip the fabric of your pants, ripping them with a swift yank, bearing your ass to the chilled room. "Where has your fight gone?" You move your hips when he reaches forth, trying to stop him from making the tear it into an even larger hole. But you're reminded how human you are compared to the Winter Soldier because your struggles do little to stop his action.

A puff of cold air hits your cunt as he tears your trousers close to shreds. "Fuck you", you sneer through your teeth, pressing your legs together to not feel as exposed. Instead of verbally answering, the Soldier forces his hand in-between your legs, inserting a few fingers beneath your panties before harshly tugging the material upwards.

The sharp sting that forces you to rise even further on your feet to ease the sensation feeling like a rope running from your ass and all the way to your clit makes you yelp.

You feel a rumble against your back before he releases the grip, much to your relief, though it's short-lived.

As he sneaks his fingers in between your folds, you start at the feeling of such a foreign thing as metal being coated in a wetness you hadn't realised drenched your underwear. It's cold, contrasting heavily to the heat he moves his fingers through. And yet, how unfamiliar it ever may be, it feels good.

A shiver runs through your body and you close your eyes, feeling a tear slip down your cheek as you will yourself not to believe he's making you this aroused.

"I'm gonna kill you", you snarl at him, attempting to convince yourself that your writhing isn't slowly changing from an attempt at breaking free to chasing the pleasure building in your body. "Give me a fucking butter knife and I'll do it".

"So why are your hands still on the wall?" His reminder dawns on you a minute too late.

Instead of ripping your hands from the wall and going against his earlier command of keeping them there, you move them downwards, not more than an inch, before he presses you flat against the wall by stepping into you. He traps your arms in a partly awkward position in which they follow the outline of your body enough your hands curls into fists and you can't push away from the wall.

Still, the hand buried in your panties move to grip one of your wrists in an iron grip, coating some of your slick against your exposed skin.

As the Soldier bends it backwards, you wince at the angle but have no choice but to obey the way he directs you.

Surprisingly, he settles your hand over his thigh. "I've had a knife here all the time, котенок", he says, forcing your hand against the outline of his thigh strap where you feel a knife handle. Now his crushing grips make even more sense. He's stopping you from being able to close your hand without it hurting you, therefore also preventing you from stealing his weapon. "But you didn't even try to reach for it".

You curse him. You can hear yourself doing it in the distance. You don't know which words you use or how you use them. You only know you spit all thinkable things at him as your mind tries to understand just how you hadn't noticed something so evident as the knife strapped to his thigh. In any other case, you would've remarked it early on, knowing you could use it to your advantage. But you hadn't.

"Such dirty words", he grunted in your ear, hooking his arm in the crook of both of yours to bend them backwards, bringing you slightly off the wall but pinned to his chest.

You wished you could curse at him in Russian, spit back the damned language of the ghost from the east, the one he used to order you with. But you don't get a chance. Not to speak the language you wouldn't be able to either way. No, you don't get a chance to say anything.

While you'd sucked air into your lungs and opened your mouth to let words hail over him again, the Soldier took advantage of his hands' positioning after releasing yours. He slipped his hand between your breast and upwards until he shoved his fingers into your mouth.

A gruff moan escapes you, eyes widening upon feeling the cold and heavy weight of his metal fingers part your lips and rest heavily on your tongue.

"That's what I want to hear". The Soldier's fingers play with your tongue, filling your mouth with the taste of your own arousal. You know why he switched to his metal hand for this. It would hurt you more than him if you bit down on them, which both of you knew you would've if it had been flesh parting your lips. "Suck". He pushes his fingers against your tongue, but you don't move, at least not more than to shake your head.

His body stiffens and he breaths out heavily enough for a slight wheezing sound to escape the filters of his mask.

He repositions your arms until they're crossed behind your back. Before you can move, he pushes himself against you and into the wall, pinning your arms in place. It's uncomfortable, your shoulders are straining and the metal arm pressed into the space between your breasts as his fingers push down on your tongue sit awkwardly against your breastbone and ribcage.

But it's forgotten when his free hand forces itself between your body and wall and goes straight down to your exposed heat. You protest, but with the digits in your mouth, it escapes you in a string of muffled noises.

You can't help the shudder running through your body as he circles your clit. Neither how your hips buck towards his cupped hand when he pushes two fingers into your weeping hole.

It feels even worse when it's his flesh hand because it doesn't feel like the Soldier pumping in and out of your as his palm grinds against your clit in a way that makes something in your lower stomach tingle. It could be anyone. Only that it isn't. It's the Winter Soldier causing your body to writhe and a flare of white-hot pleasure to suddenly blind you.

Your orgasm comes suddenly, shocking even you, as your body locks up and clamps down on the fingers continuing to work in and out of you, consequently prolonging the pleasure sweeping through your body.

His fingers leave your mouth, a thin string of saliva following them until it breaks and hits the skin beneath your chin. Not until his hand settles on your throat do you realise it's because your head tipped backwards to rest upon his shoulder.

"хороший котенок", his deep voice is an echo in your ear and you know you would've felt his lips against yours if the dual sensation of sharp plastic and the metal lining of his face covering wouldn't have pushed into your cheek.

You feel weak, a softness entering your body as you finally settle. But you're given no time to completely wrap your head around the fact that the Winter Soldier just made you cum. Not when his fingers slip out of your cunt with a rush of wetness following and drenching you even further, enough for your upper thighs to feel sticky. A move closely followed by him putting some space between the two of you, causing your arms to slip forth of their own accord before the uncharacteristically loud sound of a zipper follows.

You'd been taking deep breaths to stabilise the erratic jump of your heart, but it catches when you feel the tip of his steely length brush against your fold. Your throat constricts around the word no as he doesn't waste any time running his cock through your wet folds but simply enters you with a snap of his hips.

The moment froze for just a few seconds while the sting of his forceful entering bled into a heavy fullness. The Soldiers chest rose and fell quickly against your backside. His fingers curled into your hip, forcing the flesh to form after his imprints. At least until they reached your hipbone.

He has you arching against him, directing you to reach deeper within you as the metal around your throat became vice-like as he kept your head bent backwards, causing your stuttering breaths to wisp straight upwards.

He mumbled things beneath his breath. Russian and English words breathed like a dog's growl. Bouncing against his mask only to reach your skin as vibrations. The shifting between languages made his voice gruffer as both accents bled into their non-matching counterpart.

When he finally pulled his hips back and buried himself deep again, a collective groan left the two of you. The next time he pulled back, it wasn't a slow roll that he entered you with but a snap of his hips.

You couldn't hold back your moans even if you wanted to. The way he fucked you should feel dirty, his sloppy and erratic thrust shouldn't make your jaw slacken and your body fall further against him. They shouldn't make you feel good. Yet they do. His rough touch awakens something primal inside you.

You claw your thighs as there isn't much else you can reach, without a doubt engraving crescent moons in your skin even through your pants. But it isn't enough. You need to feel more of the Soldier than his erratic thrusts breaking you apart.

Writhing against him further excels your pleasure and pulls a whine from you as your wandering hands attempt to find any part of him. A growl, trying to scare you off from making too much resistance, vibrates against your back as he curls himself around you and speeds up his thrusts.

"Please". The word is broken as each snap of the Soldiers hips punches your breath out of you. "Please", you beg again, an equal unconscious frustration at what he'd reduced you to and desperation to touch him.

He doesn't answer and so, deeming that you would get a warning if you did something he didn't like, your hands sneak towards the first best part of him, which turns out to be his metal arm. One hand closes around his forearm, the other his wrists, and your body eases at having something to ground yourself against. But it doesn't last long, not when he squeezes the fingers around your throat, cutting off your much-needed air supply, just seconds after.

Although, compared to earlier, you don't struggle. Even if you squirm against the Soldier, you don't try to force his hand away. And he must realise that when your body falls against his with eyes closed and your lips parted without any sounds escaping it, you're not touching him in an attempt to break free.

He flexes his fingers to their previous state of simply keeping you still. But brings you further away from the wall and more into him.

You feel him ploughing in and out of you and on a significantly harder thrust, he follows it up with a dirty grind of his hips, causing you to whine and push back against him while your cunt squeeze around him.

"Good God", he groans as you all but assume his head dropped close to the shell of your ear. "Feels like heaven", he grunts with yet another roll of his hips. Yes, yes, heaven, hell, whatever. Your brain is a scrambled mess, thoughts barely straight enough you can make sense of them as you moan unabashedly at what feels like sin dripping from his lips.

You can't fathom how he feels so warm all of a sudden. How the Soldier feels like a man behind you, his words so rich and at the loss of every chill they'd carried earlier. He feels like a human and when the flesh hand on your hip sneaks downwards, fingers finding the opening in your pants and your clit at the top of your slit, a mumbled 'cum for me, doll' you all but forget who's behind you.

You have no control over your body as it convulses, pleasure ripping you into pieces. The only thing keeping you from wriggling away from the man behind you is his metal hand slipping down to anchor over your breasts and his palm pushing against your mound to keep you grounded against his relentless thrusting.

His fingers still reach your slit and he takes full advantage of having access to your clit to prolong your peak and how you flutter around him. Even if your hands have fallen to the wall, they do little to hold you up. So for a moment, when you're thighs are quivering enough your muscles can't keep you upright, he manages to do so by gripping your hips.

He slams himself as deep as possible a few times more before slipping out of you so hastily that your slick trickles out of you. His grunt is blended with a moan. Either at the loss of your heat or in pleasure. Seeing how he drives his cock between your ass cheeks, pulling your hips against his, over and over, before only his hips move jerkily and he paints your lower back in ropes of cum.

You arch against him, taking in the sensation of his softening cock and his spend trickling down in-between your cheeks and the way his fingers flex over your hips at your action. But that is all you get in-between heavy breaths as he abruptly rips himself away from you. And shortly after, you hear him sip his trousers.

When he doesn't dwell in the same post-orgasmic softness that settled in your bones, you were once more reminded that it wasn't any man behind you and that you shouldn't be surprised about his actions. And yet, you were. You were surprised he'd let himself give in to his pleasure, how human he'd seemed to have gotten, even now when he ran his metal hand up your backside, a few fingers tracing your skin.

And then, you weren't as surprised anymore, not when the air so tangibly shifted and, instead of caressing your skin, his hand travelled upwards until it nestled against your neck, fingers curling further than comfortable beneath your ears on either side.

The Soldier proved, then and there, how much warmth he would ever be exposed to and whatever fidget of your imagination thought he'd radiated some too... he would always remain the Winter Soldier.

"I've found you, котенок", he said. And then, there was silence.

Silence, once again silence, a silence solely the Russian ghost could create when he still stood close enough you could feel the heat of his body. A silence to let his word sink in.

When he finally released you and silently stepped away, you didn't spin around to witness him disappear in the quickly dawning sun. You stayed pressed to the wall, hands curling into fists as your forehead dropped to the cheap paint.

The Soldier had found you and he would never lose you. That was what he'd meant. The Winter Soldier had caught your scent like a bloodhound and would never forget what you smelled like. He'd decided to spare your life just to haunt you instead. Until you chose to work with him rather than against him, you would never see him, but know he always watched you.

You hadn't gazed into his eyes when he forced you to succumb to him, nor when he painted you in ropes of cum. But there was no need to have done that when you would remember that steely gaze behind closed eyes.

Translations:

кто послал вас? - Who sent you?

руки на стене - Hands on the wall.

котенок - Kitten

плохой ход - Bad move

хороший котенок= Good kitten.

#winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader smut #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x reader smut #fanfic #fanfiction #MCU fanfiction #MCU fic #bucky smut #winter soldier x reader tw #advent calender 2021

190 notes · View notes

becasworldsstuff · 2 years ago

Text

Just feel tired

-> Pairing: mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, Sam Wilson x fem reader (platonic)

-> Pronouns: she/her

-> Warnings: sad/confused reader, soft praise, use of y/n, age gap (reader is in mid/early 20, Bucky is in mid 30)

->Type: fluff

->Summary: reader is a little bit lost in her mind and Bucky just hugs her tight.

->Ps. It’s my first post, feel free to ask me anything, I decided to write this in third person but if you feel like it would be better in first tell me, please point my grammar mistakes if you can gotta tell u that English is not my 1st language as you will see ~beca

->Words: <500

She was sit on the big sofa placed inside Bucky’s office, her legs were crossed and the hoodie she was wearing was so oversized that it covered even her legs, her hands were kept by the side of the big book she was reading in a soft voice to Sam.

Sam and y/n were the only two people other than Steve that Bucky accepted into his office, they were both intelligent, capable and they lived in that violent world since they were young. Sam choose to enter in the mafia once that he quit the military school at 17, he knew he needed something more exciting and Bucky was around his age when his father gave the family’s “throne” to him. So he took it inside his men.

Y/n in the contrary was actually practically born in this world. she wasn’t the only child in her family nor the oldest, actually she was the youngest, but since when she was younger her knowledge helped her family escape from big disasters, so eventually her father decided to leave his “empire” to her.

Bucky and Y/n met At a gala, she was arranging some affair with Anthony stark when he walked past them and felt a connection to the younger girl. Their first meeting wasn’t the film’s “love at first sight”, more of a “an older men than me is being a creep” sort of encounter for Y/N, but this hadn’t stopped James in the slightest.

Sam was asleep with his head onto y/n’s lap, and when she noticed it she stopped reading out loud, her stare was blank directed to the wall in front of her.

It took some minutes to James to put together the dots that she stopped reading. When he turned his body in her direction he called softly her name two or three times but when he didn’t get an answer he stood up and carefully walked in front of her, he took Sam’s head and tried to touch her hands without scaring her. Y/n eye’s became glossy in a little amount of time so Bucky just tried to bring her closer to him, his arms gently pressed behind her back. Y/N happens to have little overwhelming moments where her mind decided that she needed a break in the last period. James obviously noticed and has being keeping track of it, it happened during late evening, probably due to her overworking herself without actually keeping count of it.

He just took her in his arms, adding pressure with his body on her, so she could feel him and being comforted by that weight that soothed her tired brain and heart so much, Y/N feeling his warmth also let herself let out a shaking breath. No one said anything, they both knew that words weren’t needed.

Sam woke up when he heard Bucky moves from the embrace of Y/N changing the pressure on the couch “god man, for being called the winter soldier, u are very loud”

#bucky barnes x reader #marvel x reader #bucky x you #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #sam wilson #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x reader

164 notes · View notes

firefly-in-darkness · 4 years ago

Text

Separation, Connection - [1/2]

Pairing →Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters → Marvel Characters

Summary → Your friendship with Bucky deterioates when you catch him in a compromising position with a fellow agent.

Word Count → 2.3k

SSB2021 Square Fill → “God I hate you” - @star-spangled-bingo

AFG Square Fill → “What the fuck am I seeing?” @anyfandomgoesbingo

Warnings → 18+. Angst, Heartbreak, Jealousy, Swearing

Betas → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This one was sitting in my WIPs folder for ages, and after brainstorming with @writethelifeyouwant, this 2 parter was finished! Ps. I know I haven’t updated Worst Idea Ever in a while and I’m sorry - I’m just very stuck with it atm, the plot and majority of the story is planned out, I just can’t seem to fill in the blanks.

Firefly’s Masterlist

You and Bucky were close, and there was that little thin line between friendship and something more. Nothing had happened but, god, you had wanted it to. The secret crush you harboured for your teammate, your friend, had only grown over the years. Everyone thought you would be good together, commenting on how well you got along, that friendship was an important part of a relationship. Both of you rolling your eyes and laughing at their comments.

When you finally gathered the courage to tell him how you felt, you saw him with someone else. They were at the back of the training facility; the team were in a simulation of a terrorist attack on Paris and once the time on the training session was called, you stumbled across them.

They were just out of sight, hidden in a dark corner. And it wasn’t just a casual embrace. They were having sex, he was fucking her, hard, up against a wall. You froze at the sight of his bare bottom clenching with each thrust and the blissed-out look on her face. What the fuck am I seeing?! Heart shattered, you fled from the room without a sound, not wanting to disturb them or for anyone to see you crying.

It hurt too much to be as close to him after that, you consciously decided to withdraw from the friendship. Not going straight to him when entering a room or staying in bed instead of heading to the rooftop where you’d usually wander at five in the morning to talk with Bucky, putting the world to right.

And of course, Bucky noticed. It had been a week since you had joined him for a midnight chat in the kitchen. He was missing his best friend. He wanted to share his life with her, and she was nowhere to be seen unless someone else was in the room.

Bucky knew it was a bad sign when you chose to sit next to Wanda, not sandwiched between him and Nat, on movie night. He felt alone in a room full of friends, as they watched a film about a love triangle set in England. It was supposed to be funny, but Bucky didn’t hear the jokes, let alone the punchlines.

Nat had realised something was wrong too. She saw the dark circles under your eyes when you drained the coffee from the cup in the morning and the puffy redness from crying in the middle of the day. She had detested the way you and Bucky were before, it was like a pair of magnets drawn together, a connected ribbon, a gravitational pull. But now? Well, you were repelling within a few meters of one another, and she hated that even more.

“What did you do, Barnes?” Nat whispered harshly, eyes still on the film.

“Nothing.” Bucky looked over to you, sleeping with your head resting on Wanda’s lap.

“So why is Wanda looking at you like that?” She raised an eyebrow.

Bucky lifted his gaze, saw the fiery red eyes staring back at him as she stroked your hair, a soft red mist falling over you. He frowned at the Sokovian and tried to talk telepathically but she shook her head and looked back at the television.

On autopilot, you ran from your room to his bedroom door, knocking until the screams died down. Long ago, you’d learnt to not enter the room until he’d settled down, had the bruises to your neck and dealt with the guilt-ridden expression on Bucky’s face for weeks.

Pressing your ear to the door, you could hear Bucky moving about and slowly pushed it open so as not to startle him. A soft glow from the lamp at his bedside welcomed you in, he'd stacked his pillows against the headboard with his knees drawn up and resting his head in his hands.

“Hi, Buck. It’s me.” You spoke softly, his head and eyes shot up to meet yours.

You walked over and sat at the end of the bed, averting your eyes to the floor and fingers fiddling with the edge of a blanket, waiting for him to respond.

“What did I do doll?” He croaked, fingers running through his hair, his knees dropping down.

Your heart raced and you were certain he could hear the harsh thumps, but your voice remained steady, “It's nothing, just need a little time to process some things.”

“You normally come to me. What's different?” His voice was strained, thick with distress.

Standing up, you walked towards the window, arms wrapped tightly around your torso. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face, but you remained focused on the navy sky fading to blues and oranges with the sunrise.

“I can't this time Buck, I need space. I need space from you.” With each word, your heart fractured along the lines you’d attempted to piece together with being away from him.

“Get out then, just leave me alone.” His tone was now harsh, stronger than before.

“God, I hate you.” Without a final glance, you left the room. Your heart in tatters once more.

Once in the safety of your room, the sob heaved out of you. Bucky had disregarded you so easily, he let you go without a second thought. And you didn’t know what was worse; what you saw a week ago or what he just said.

Bucky finished his 76th lap when someone caught his eye. It was you. His best friend. The one he stupidly let go of. It had been three months since he'd told you to leave, and you hadn't gone back on his word.

Of course, Bucky was just as stubborn and hadn't approached you unless it was work-related. But there was something different about you. His eyes focused on the man you were standing with, and how you glowed, and Bucky just couldn't stand that you were feeling that way about a random recruit and not him.

“She used to look at you that way.” Wanda’s voice echoed in his head.

He scanned the field and found her figure leaning against a tree, shading herself from the summer sun and a book in hand. Bucky grabbed the small towel and wiped away the sweat, swigging his water bottle, then joined her on the grass.

“What are you talking about? She’s never looked at me like that.” He gestured towards you and the agent.

Wanda chuckled and shook her head, “You're not blind, or stupid, Bucky, she adored you. Still does, even though I wish she would get over you.”

His brow creased. “She wanted space, ended our friendship.”

Wanda’s eyes flashed red, “And you broke her heart.”

“Show me.” Bucky held out his hand, pleading with her, “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“I can’t Bucky. It's private, she would never forgive me.” Wanda shook her head and placed her book in her lap, “I've seen what she's done to you, I'm not going to lose her too.”

Bucky sprang to his feet and kicked at the grass. “Then just tell me what you know. Just something?” He turned to face you, hands on his hips as he tried to think of what he’d done.

“Paris terrorist simulation,” Wanda stated without emotion.

Bucky turned around, seeing nothing but a neutral expression on her face. The simulation had been a success, the whole team had done well but he hadn’t seen you at the debriefing. Steve said you were exhausted and needed to rest.

“What about it?” asked Bucky.

“Don't deny it. I saw it, I felt it. She had no chance of blocking me from that pain.” Wanda stood up, eyes flickering red, “you and that agent. I thought you were better than that Bucky.”

“Shit.”

Bucky knew exactly what Wanda had meant before she explained. Shame coursed through him; he'd broken your trust by not telling you about the agent he’d been hooking up with. Honestly, he didn't want you to know, didn't want you to judge him for the flings he had. Subconsciously, he knew that was what your distancing was about because he hadn't seen her again or hooked up with anyone since.

All he wanted was you back in his life; he was going to make it happen.

Wanda smirked, shaking her head before walking ahead of him, “Best get a move on Barnes, she’s not thinking of him in a platonic way.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he strutted towards you, determined to get you back.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder and he could only hope you still felt the same way.

You couldn’t believe Bucky dared to pull rank on you in front of another agent. That he had the gall to do such a thing after he told you to leave him alone, how he betrayed your trust as a friend and unknowingly broke your heart.

You stormed down the blurry corridors as anger took the form of tears. Your whole body tense and determined to get away from the assassin on your tail. People parted like the sea as they saw your strut and scowl, you scoffed at their reaction and thought, this must be what it’s like to be Bucky on a mission. Using it to your advantage, you managed to pull someone by the arm and into the path of the Winter Soldier.

While you sprinted away, you glanced back and spotted Bucky helping the woman to her feet, apologising profusely and then realising it was the agent you had caught him with. Your blood boiled as you pushed through the door to the stairwell, it slammed against the wall and probably damaged it, but you didn’t care anymore.

It wasn’t until the breeze hit your face that you realised where you were. You’d come to the rooftop, the exact spot that you’d air all your worries with Bucky. It was the place you’d first bonded outside of the team.

A hand dragged down your face and your shoulders slumped. You spun on your heel, ready to escape when you stopped short. There he was, blocking the doorway. You groaned, of course, he knew exactly where you’d go even before you did.

“I just want to talk.” Bucky quietly spoke, a hint of a question in his tone but a statement all the same.

“I’ll scale down the side of this building if I have to.” You stepped back towards the edge.

Bucky growled and walked towards you, “would you quit being so stubborn and dramatic for one second?”

“Just leave me alone.” You threw his own words back at him, stopping him in his tracks.

At that moment, you could see that Bucky realised how hurtful those words were, but you weren’t going to console him anytime soon. He should suffer for how he spoke to you and for never attempting to speak to you until now.

Bucky slowly circled you towards the edge, his eyes focused on you while you turned in tandem following his moves. He reached the railing then settled down into a seated position, legs hanging over the side, his chest against the metal pole.

“Are you going to join me?” Bucky’s gaze now on the horizon.

With a roll of your eyes, you sat beside him, but at least a metre apart, you couldn’t get that close to him. He was too intoxicating, and your emotions were incredibly high, even if they were full of anger and hurt, and you didn’t trust yourself not to succumb to his charm.

“Are you going to talk then?” You sassed back at him.

“I’m sorry for what you saw. You shouldn’t have seen that.” Bucky didn’t hold back, “I was going to tell you, I just thought you’d judge me.”

“I’d judge you. For sleeping with a colleague. In the middle of a training simulation?” You scoffed, “You didn’t tell me about her. Or anyone else for that matter. Natasha filled me in on all your little late night rendezvous when I was on missions.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Bucky knew he’d not win this conversation and scrambled to bring it back onto his side, “you were away, and I needed something, someone.”

“So, you used them and used me too?” You glared at him.

“That’s not what I said,” Bucky seethed, annoyed at the way you were twisting his words but not surprised with the pain you felt.

You continued, ignoring his comment, unable to stop the words falling from your lips, “I gave you emotional support. Watched you cry yourself to sleep after a nightmare, held your hand when you had a panic attack during a mission.” You shook your head at him, “I just wasn’t good enough for the sex part.”

Bucky held your chin and pulled your face to look at him, “You mean more to me than that. I just didn’t know how you felt. If I’d had known-”

You jerked away from his touch, it felt too nice, it felt like home, but you weren’t ready to fall back into this friendship. He knew how you felt, and you weren’t ready for his rejection. You still needed your space.

Swiftly, you returned to your feet, brushing down your trousers and hands, “Thank you for your apology, but I can’t forgive you.”

Bucky stood up and watched you begin to leave, “I’ll do my best to make you see how much you mean to me.”

You paused in the doorway, but you had to be strong, to carry on walking away, you couldn’t let him hurt you again. It was time to move on.

Continue Here...

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough / @courtneychicken / @persephonesinfernos / @miraclesoflove

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers / @little-baby-vixen / @stuckonjbbarnes / @starlightcrystalline / @nekoannie-chan / @hailhydra920 / @vollzeitliebe / @fitzsimmons-is-forever / @ladyacrasia / @emmabarnes / @selfsun

strike through - unable to tag.

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes Fic #Bucky Barnes Angst #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction

990 notes · View notes

mercurygguk · 4 years ago

Text

winter soldier | jjk

genre; winter soldier/avengers au, angst/smut/fluff

pairing; winter soldier!jungkook x avenger!female reader

summary; the love of your life died during ww2, they honored his death. you had never imagined you’d ever see him again until you’d join him in death, but here he is and he’s trying to kill you. he’s not himself at all. you, however, insist that the man you used to know is still in there somewhere.

word count; 6,764

warnings; descriptions of war/battle/fight scenes, descriptions of scars, the rest of the avengers joins the party, reader is like Cap A but not like Cap A, you know??, jungkook looking hella hot with his long hair and steel arm, inspiration from ‘captain america: winter soldier’, swearing, SMUT; explicit sexual activities, oral (f. receiving), love making at its highest- nothing kinky, just plain ol’ sex

a/n; okay so um, i’m binge-watching the avengers movies atm and i was watching Captain America: Winter Soldier. i kid you not, throughout the entire movie i was imagining what jungkook would look like as the winter soldier- jungkook combined with superheroes is like the perfect story, amirite?? ;)) enjoy!

ps. once again, i didn’t proof read so ignore my possible mistakes lol

(for reference, this is what jungkook’s hair looks like in this fic)

War.

Terrorizing. Horrifying. Absolutely petrifying.

There are several words to use when talking about it, describing it, reliving it. Once you’ve experienced it, it will haunt you till the day you die and even beyond that. There isn’t much positive to take from it, not many positive memories come to you as you think back to the time during war. Only one positive memory returns to you from those dark times...

Him.

Him who did not fit in with the military services due to his lack of strength and speed. Him who never let anyone step upon him and evolved with the job. Him who never backed down from a challenge or an order given from the highest ranks. Him who had braveness unlike anyone, loyalty like no other, a will to fight for what’s worth it and to win. Him who made you fall for him without meaning to. Him who promised he would always come back to you, no matter what happened.

And then one day he didn’t. They had told you he went down in the fight, died for his country, for his team. He hadn’t hesitated to sacrifice himself, thrown himself towards the threat in the hopes of ending it for everyone once and for all. That he did. He killed himself in the process of saving everyone else.

A hero is what they had called him. Honored his name, saluting as they all stood facing his military photograph, serious faces and emotionless eyes all over. Tears had filled your eyes that day, but they didn't fall. You refused to let them. There was no way you would cry because of a liar. A coward, really. Anger kept you going, anger aimed at him. A rage so intense that you would convince yourself that you hated him. Some people would call you selfish, selfish for hating a man who sacrificed himself for everyone else. They were right. You were selfish. But love makes you selfish, and you loved him. So ridiculously much.

Years later, decades into the new century he remains as a positive yet heartbreaking and frustrating memory in your mind and heart. You haven’t aged a day thanks to the advanced technology and the project you offered to be the experiment of, in the end of the war. After his death and the war seeming more out of control than ever, you thought there wasn’t much more to live for, so you volunteered. A successful masterpiece, professor Kim had said as you regained consciousness on the lab table. You were his greatest, most succeeded experiment. You still are, except for the fact that Kim Namjoon is no longer walking among people on earth.

Now you’re living as the successful masterpiece he has created. Stronger, faster – young too even though your real age is something near 98. It doesn’t show. You look like any other 23-year-old but with extraordinary strength and speed. Being a part of a team as the Avengers truly has given you a meaning of life, a purpose that you didn’t feel you had before joining this outstanding team of superheroes as some would call you.

But as you stand here, in the middle of a battlefield that is scarily similar to those back in the 1940’s, you feel small. Gunshots fire around you, flying past your head and ringing in your ears. Explosions going off from the shots fired by Stark, Iron Man as he’s known as. The grounds breaking from the power of Thor’s hammer, the bad guys falling like flies in the hands of Widow. You’re watching it all unfold, breathing for a split second as robots are charging at you with red, glowing eyes.

For God’s sake, just how many of these are there?

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes in pure annoyance, you set off running towards them with an unmatched speed, fists up and ready to take them out. One goes down after another, surrendering to your very angry, very powerful fists. Your patience is running thin as the robots keep appearing from left and right, setting their focus on you as demanded by whoever’s controlling them. A person you haven’t managed to find yet, but determined to hunt down and put a bullet through their head.

“Hey, Thor!” You call out to the nordic God flying around you, punching fists through robots and throwing his hammer at them. He glances your way, finding you surrounded by robots, too many for you to fight by yourself. “A lil hand here?”

He nods in response, immediately dropping to the ground and plunging his hammer into the asphalt on the ground, lightning seeping through the ground and into the robots, taking them down and splitting them in half. Thor throws a smug smirk at you before turning back around to fight another round of robots. You roll your eyes, about to run off when shots are being fired at you.

“Shit!” You hiss, running to hide behind a tipped-over truck while fishing out a gun from the strap around your thigh. You lean out, aiming in the direction of the shots. There is a man with long, dark hair, a black mask covering half his face and a silver arm that does not look familiar at all. The mysterious man steps onto the railing of the bridge he fired shots from, hard glare focused on you as he steps out and lets himself fall to the ground beneath the bridge. He lands on his feet, supporting himself with the silver fist into the asphalt. He stands to his height, walking straight towards you and leaving a mark in the asphalt where he had landed. Your eyes widen as he holds up a machine gun, opening fire at you as you scramble to run off while loading more shots into your gun.

Peeking around the corner of the brick building you’re hiding behind, you hold your gun up to aim at him. You fire a bullet, hitting his silver arm. He doesn’t budge, the bullet not even leaving a bump in the silver.

“What the-” you gape, firing shots again. He holds his silver hand up, the bullets bouncing off like they’re made of cotton, still walking towards you with eyes focused on you. There’s something about him that seems familiar – maybe his build? Or the way he walks? Or was it the slightly curly hair on top of his head? You can’t quite pin it as you watch him get closer, fists clenched tightly at his sides as if he’s ready to throw punches at you. You contemplate running to him, throwing the first punch at him before he gets to you. There is a slight hesitancy in your body as you can’t shake off how awfully familiar he seems the closer he gets to you. Knowing what the right thing to do is, you step out from your hiding spot, collecting all strength as you charge at him. A yell of anger and confusion rumbles from your chest as you jump on the last step, fist pulled back only for it to be forced forward and into the center of the mysterious man’s chest.

He stumbles back slightly, gaining his balance quickly before he steps closer, throwing a punch at you as well. You dodge, throwing your leg into his side in a strong kick. He grunts as he catches your leg, pulling on it to force you towards him. You ram into him, his clenched fist connecting with your jaw. You groan in pain as you fall to the ground, landing before his feet. Squinting at him, you watch as he kneels down over you, holding you down against the ground. As he stares at you, raising his hand to deliver a punch to your face again, you realize it as your eyes meet his. You gasp softly, not believing the sight in front of you. It’s a known fact that you would recognize those deep, brown eyes anywhere in any given moment.

“J-Jungkook?”

The sound of your voice, the sound of his name falling from your lips has him freezing for a split second. His eyes shift between yours as he slowly begins to sink his fist. But not even seconds later he’s raising his fist again and that’s when you can tell that he does not recognize you. He is looking at you as if you’re a complete stranger, like he didn’t spend the last year of his life telling you that he loved you more than life itself.

His gaze fills with the only feeling he feels, hatred. He moves to force his silver fist down and into your face, a face he used to call beautiful as he traced his finger tips along the edges. You barely dodge it, trying your very best to meet his eyes again as you call his name.

“Jungkook!” You fight the tears that are brimming your eyes as you continue to dodge his hits the best you can, “Hey! It’s me!”

He’s not holding off, continuing to throw punches at you and hitting the asphalt as you squirm in between his thighs. He’s impeccably strong, the asphalt cracking under the jabs of his fists. His thighs are keeping you in place as he pins you to the ground, your arms locked along your sides. You know he’ll punch you to death if you don’t get inside his head. It seems nearly impossible as his eyes are trained on you, emotionless and angry, only a small glimt of the man you used to know in them.

“____! Might wanna duck down a bit,” Tony shouts as he flies in your direction, his glowing hand aimed at Jungkook.

Your eyes widen in horror as you scramble together all the strength you have, throwing Jungkook off you and away from the deathly ray of light coming from Tony’s palm.

“No!”

The shot hits the asphalt a few meters away from you, nearly grazing Jungkook but it doesn’t, thankfully. Tony is shocked as he comes to a halt in the air, staring between Jungkook and you. You wave a hand at him. “I got him,” you assure him as you pant out breaths of air, nodding towards Widow and Thor, “go help the others.”

The man in the iron suit in front of you seems to hesitate for a second as he looks at you. He catches the pleading look on your face, glancing back at Jungkook for a moment before nodding at you once and flying in the direction of Widow and Thor, aiming his shots at the robots that are still coming from all sides. You turn your attention back to Jungkook, the body of the love of your life but not the eyes or mind of him.

“Jungkook,” you try again, slowly stepping closer as he stays still, slightly shocked that you had saved him from Iron Man’s deadly shot, “it’s me, ____.”

You’re begging, tone pleading him and hands up in surrender as you slowly step closer to him. He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling in deep breaths. His eyes are dark, cold and distant as you get even closer. He’s frozen in his spot. He seems confused behind that hard expression, confused because you look less terrified than you did before realizing who he is. He doesn’t flinch or move away from your hand as it inches closer to his face, reaching for the black mask on his face.

“Hey,” you softly say, hesitating to touch him as you let a single tear escape and roll down your cheek. Something flashes in his eyes as he looks into your wet eyes, a small hint of recognition, familiarity too. Maybe he remembers. You hope he does. He lets you pull the black mask off completely, the strong line of his jaw appearing in front of you as well as his pink lips you used to kiss so often in that hidden place you liked to meet almost every night. “It’s me,” you whisper, “it’s ____.”

You’re afraid you’re imagining things as tears build up in the corner of his eyes, his jaw tightening. It’s too much for him. The memories returning with full force, the emotions filling his chest and warming it for the first time in 70 years. He wants to cry. He doesn’t know whether it's happiness because you’re right here in front of him, after he thought he would never get to see you again as he took his last breath back in 1944, or sadness because he’s well aware that he almost killed you if you hadn’t pushed him off you.

“____?” His voice betrays him as it cracks, your name coming out in a croaked voice. More tears escape as you hear your name falling from his lips for the first time since that morning in the military camp where he said ‘see you soon’ and then never returned. He freezes as you throw yourself at him, arms wrapped around him as you pull him closer in a tight hug. The sniffles and muffled cries you let out breaks his emotionless, cold heart and filling it with a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long. A tear escapes from the corner of his eye as he lets his own arms snake their way around your waist, hugging you just as tight as you hug him.

Relief.

That’s what he’s feeling.

Jungkook wanders around inside Stark’s office, eyes exploring things as he calmly runs his silver hand over them. You watch him from a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest. Worry is filling your entire body as his back is turned to you. He still doesn’t seem like himself. There is something about him that makes you anxious, something about him makes you wonder if he’ll turn at any moment, falling back into whatever sort of amnesia he has been experiencing for the past decades.

You jump in surprise when the door opens beside you, revealing Tony. He notices your jumbled state, giving you a small, half smile. You turn your eyes back to Jungkook who’s picking at an ancient-looking sculpture on Tony’s desk causing Tony to take a step closer.

“Hey! Buddy!” He calls out, catching Jungkook’s attention. “Don’t touch that, please. It’s antique.”

Jungkook steps away from the desk, hands up in mock surrender, emptiness in his eyes as if he couldn’t care less about Tony’s antique sculpture. No one really cared about that sculpture. It’s doomed to break at some point when it’s placed in his office, in the Avengers building.

“Tony,” you catch the attention of the older man, looking straight at him with hopeful, desperate eyes, “can you help him?”

He turns to face Jungkook, looking him over from head to toe. “Friday, give me a scan of whatever’s controlling Jungkook.”

Anticipated, you wait while biting a nail. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch as Friday scans him for anything to help Tony figure out a way to help. He’s glancing from Tony to you, his eyes meeting yours. Seconds. It takes seconds from his stare meeting yours to something flicking behind his dark brown irises, something inside of him snapping like the tips of someone’s fingers. Your eyes widen in panic as you move to stand between Tony and Jungkook.

“Tony!” You shout, moving fast as you try to get in between the two men. Tony has already activated his iron hand, catching Jungkook’s silver fist right before it hits him square in the face. You come to a halt, staring in surprise as Tony tightens his hold on Jungkook’s fist, forcing him to the ground. “Tony, please, don’t hurt him. He’s not in his right mind!”

“Oh, really?” Tony scoffs, sarcasm dripping from each word. A small yelp leaves your mouth as Tony kicks his knee up under Jungkook’s jaw, knocking him out. Jungkook falls limp to the floor, eyes closed as he’s kicked unconscious by Tony. You kneel down beside him, brushing his long strands of hair out of his face. He looks peaceful as he lays there, completely unconscious, and yet there’s a furrowed look on his face, like he’s never free from whatever that is controlling him. You sigh deeply, head dropping as you cradle Jungkook’s hand in your own. Tony’s palm rests on your shoulder. You glance up at him. He gives you a small, reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help him,” he tells you. You nod, knowing he spoke the truth.

“Thank you.”

The frustrated look and furrowed eyebrows are gone. He looks genuinely peaceful this time, long lashes resting on the top of his cheeks as he rests beneath the sheets on your bed. You can’t help yourself as you reach out, palm cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone in a soft caress. Hopefully you’ll have the love of your life back once he wakes up from the deep sleep Tony put him in.

You’re about to move away, retrieving your hand from his cheek just as you hear him whimper softly. Turning back to him, you watch as his lower lip begins to quiver, eyebrows furrowed tightly together. “No,” he whimpers again, head shaking in his sleep. “Please, no! Don’t!”

Worry fills you once again as you sit on the edge of the bed beside him, hands cupping his face between them. “Jungkook,” you softly call, trying your best to wake him without startling him. “Jungkook, my love, please wake up. Please!”

Startled, you gasp as his eyes shoot open, his lips parting as he gasps for air. He’s looking right into your startled, widened eyes. It takes a minute for him to realize who you are and where he is, the surroundings not seeming familiar at all, but it feels nice. The aura, the warmth and the dimmed lighting in the bedroom where he’s tucked under the sheets.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you smile, not sure what to say to him. Tony had made sure to help him, get whatever that was controlling him out of him, his head to himself now and slowly filling with memories, both good and bad ones. “How are you feeling?”

He groans as he moves to sit up. You help him straighten up, making sure he has a pillow for his back as he leans back against the head of the bed. He closes his eyes tightly together as he drops his head back, still trying to calm his erratic breathing. You sit back in the chair you had pulled to the bedside when you got here.

“I feel…” he begins, words feeling foreign on his tongue as he speaks with a croaking voice. He sighs deeply. This is a lot for his head to take in in just one day. “I feel like my head is about to explode.”

Your smile is careful as you look at him. “Makes sense,” you softly say, watching him glance at his arm only to notice the silver is still there, like he had hoped it would be gone. It’s easy to tell the arm itself is a symbol of a very dark time as he looks at it and then looks away from it. He isn’t fond of the silver arm, obviously having a love-hate relationship with it as it has given him power and strength he never had to begin with and problems he never voluntarily wanted in the first place. There’s pain in his eyes as he glances at you, shame as he cowers under your gaze.

You frown deeply. “What happened to you?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. He closes his eyes, not really wishing to go back to those dark times where his life was saved and changed for the worse. The dark times where he became a shadow of himself and a manipulated soldier, brainwashed to take orders from others.

“I, uh, I don’t think-“ he stumbles over his words.

You place your hand over his actual hand, your thumb brushing the skin there. He glances at where you’re touching him before looking up at you. You’re hurting, it’s easy to see. It’s not your own pain though, it’s his. You’re feeling pain for him, hurting because he went through things he never should have, things where death would’ve been much less painful. You want to kiss him, kiss it all better if that was possible.

“You can tell me,” you whisper, pleading him to confide in you, to tell you what happened to him all those years ago.

He sighs deeply, turning his hand over to wrap it around yours. A rush runs through your stomach as he grips onto your hand with a hold so tight that you find yourself promising him silently that you’ll never let go again by giving his hand a small squeeze.

“They found me a few days later,” he starts, gaze focusing on the way yours and his fingers intertwine with each other like they’re meant to do it, “in the ruins of buildings. I-I wasn’t fully awake when they did, only just coming to my senses again after the explosion that was meant to kill me.”

You’re focusing on his hand in yours now, not able to look into his eyes as he tells the story of how he ended up here, 70 years later, and still looking like himself but with longer hair and impeccable strength.

“I didn’t recognize them. They wouldn’t tell me anything. They took me to this place, a bunker or something like that. There was this huge laboratory inside with equipment way ahead of its time,” he looks confused as he relives the horrifying moments, “I was placed in a chair and the next thing I know they’re sawing my arm off-“

You whimper. “Oh, god,” tears dwell in your eyes as you grip his hand tightly.

“____, I have never felt as much pain as I did that day,” he looks you straight in the eye, the pain from that day flashing over his face as he recalls it, the feeling of it. “And all I could think about while they turned me into this- this monster… was that I lied to you.”

You shake your head in denial. “No, Jungkook,” you whisper, “you couldn’t know. You couldn’t.”

He offers you a small half-smile, remorse covering his features as he reaches up with his silver hand, careful as he lets the fingertips of it brush your hair out of your face.

“I’m sorry I gave you an empty promise,” he whispers, silver fingertips brushing against the side of your face. You cover it with your own hand, letting him cup your face in the cold silver. He leans closer, hissing lightly as pain shoots up the side of his torso. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come back to you like I promised.”

“You did though,” you sigh deeply, resting your forehead against his. “You’re right here.”

He nods softly, his eyes shifting between yours.. “and I won’t leave again,” he assures you before hesitating, shrugging as he adds; “unless you want me to.”

You chuckle through the tears that had built up in your eyes. He’s smiling at you as you reach up to cup his face in your palms, brushing your thumb across his cheeks. He’s watching you, still not quite believing that you’re here with him. After so long. 70 years of wondering if you’re still alive. 70 long years of wondering where you were in the world. 70 unbearable years of longing for your touch, your soft, plump lips that made his heart stop beating for a few seconds each time they would touch his in a kiss.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he whispers into the small gap of air space between you and him. “Each time I’d return from a mission and become myself again after being under mind-control, you were the first thing on my mind. To be honest, I don’t think you ever left it. You’ve always been there with me, in the deepest parts of my consciousness. You kept me sane during the missions, kept me from forgetting myself completely.”

Listening intently, you close your eyes as your thumbs continue to brush over the skin on his cheeks. He continues, a deep sigh falling from his lips and clashing against yours causing goosebumps to rise upon your body. You’re shocked that you have gone this far without smothering him in kisses. You don’t want to risk anything, waiting patiently for him to make the first move in the direction of more physical affection, whether it’s a touch of his hand, a hug or more.

“And when I realized it was you earlier today...” his voice cracks, “when I realized I almost killed you- I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for that.”

“You can and you will,” you softly tell him, the undertone of your voice stern, “you didn’t kill me. You wouldn’t. You were gonna recognize me sooner or later.”

He exhales shakily. “You don’t know that,” he almost snaps, eyes closed tightly as he drops his silver hand from your face. He pulls away from your touch, the warmth of him disappearing the further he moves away. He’s not looking at you. Tears are threatening to spill as you stare back at him, lips slightly parted as you want to speak up. You want to tell him he’s wrong, but you already know that he will not take your words for what they are. He, and you, know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t pushed him off when you did.

“You’re right,” you say, catching his attention again. He barely glances at you, noticing the small remnants of tears in your eyes before looking back at his silver hand, clenching and unclenching it. A tear rolls down your cheek. “You’re so right, Jungkook. I don’t know if you would or not.”

You get up from the chair you’ve been sitting in since you brought him back to your apartment. Jungkook still refuses to look at you as you move onto the bed, crawling closer to him. You don’t hesitate as you lay a hand on his shoulder and throw a leg over his to straddle his lap. He finally looks at you, eyes slightly widened at your actions. His eyes meet teary ones again, his silver arm moving out of an old habit as he reaches up to wipe your tears away.

“But I like to think you would.”

Your lips press against his before he can reply to your words. Jungkook gasps and then grunts in response as you press your mouth to his, desperately and needy. His body freezes beneath you as you kiss him, tasting his lips for the first time in an unbearably long time. It takes him a while to realize that you’re kissing him, finally kissing you back as he cradles you in his arms, pulling you closer to his chest. The silver arm keeps a tight grip around your waist, holding you in place as the other runs up your thigh.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, letting your forehead rest against his. Jungkook is breathing heavily, his breath once again clashing against yours as you both catch your breath. Your eyes meet, seconds after he’s kissing you again, your tank top riding up as the silver arm keeps you tight against him. The silver touching your skin causes goosebumps to cover your skin, a chill running up your spine as you cup his face. His tongue licks against your bottom lip, you let him in. A moan escapes your lips as his tongue touches yours.

“I’ve been holding myself back ever since you woke up,” you whisper against his lips, making him smile as his hands slide under your top, pushing it up before pulling it over your head completely. You return to his lips, catching them with your own as you reach for the hem of his t-shirt. He helps you pull it off, your mind elsewhere as you throw it onto the floor. Your hands rake down his body, over the tensing muscles of his abdomen as he moves his kisses down your cheek and further under your jaw. Your breathing is ragged as you pull away, only a few inches so you can glance down at his torso. The sight horrifies you, your fingertips brushing over scars and healed wounds.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as you glance up at Jungkook, his eyes meeting yours for a few seconds before you look back at his chest. Your eyes wander, over his both small and larger scars to his silver arm. You feel your heart tightening as you take in the way the silver arm is sewed onto his body. You hesitate to reach up, Jungkook’s eyes on you as you let your shaking fingertips brush over the burned, scarred skin that keeps the silver arm attached. “I- This…”

His human hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. “I know,” he agrees without hearing the rest of the sentence. You look back at him, finding relief in his eyes as you rest your palms against his chest. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he then says.

“They literally cut off your arm,” you point out, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine how much pain he must’ve been in when they did this to him. “I wish I could have spared you this pain, spared you the torture you went through.”

He smiles softly. “I know, ____. But there's no way you possibly could’ve.”

You're carefully running your pointer finger along one of his scars when you look up at him, eyelashes framing your eyes so perfectly. He thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, even more so than the last time he saw you. You can’t do anything to stop the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I love you so much, Jungkook.”

His breathing stops for a second, his heart skipping a beat. He hasn’t heard those words since 1944. He didn’t even hear those words that morning you had sent him off, he hadn’t said those words when he promised to return. He should have. That way you’d never be in doubt of his love. He wonders if you’ve loved him since or if there has been anyone else in the meantime to love you the way he should’ve.

Silently, you watch him as his thoughts run one hundred miles per hour. Your palms are sliding from his chest to his shoulders and further up his neck to cup his face again. The love he feels is evident in his eyes as he focuses on you.

“I love you,” he whispers, carefully turning you over onto your back only for him to hover over you. You’re watching him, tingling in your stomach as you hear the words fall from his lips. He returns to kissing you, kissing the skin on your cheek, your neck and further down to the very top of your chest, right beneath the collarbones. He glances up at you as he kisses his way down the valley of your bra-covered chest. “I didn’t say it enough back then,” he mouths against your skin, another round of goosebumps rising beneath his lips, “I should have said it more. I’m sorry.”

You exhale deeply, arching your back into his touch as he reaches your navel and moves even further down to the waistband of your pants, your spandex pants that you so elegantly wear whenever you have a mission with the Avengers.

“Stop apologizing,” you breathe out, eyes closed as you succumb to his touch. The silver hand brushes over your stomach as it runs up to your chest, unclasping your bra on the front. It falls to the sides, revealing your perky nipples to the crisp air. You gasp softly as a silver hand brushes over both, the cold steel doing nothing but erecting them even more. “I've always hated it when you apologize.”

He smirks softly against your lower stomach, pressing one last kiss to the skin there before pulling the silver hand down to pull off your pants, and panties too. The pants are barely on the floor before he returns to your lower abdomen, kisses being spread across your hip bones and pubic bone. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his long hair as he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs. He spreads your legs, revealing your throbbing core to him.

“God, I missed this,” he breathed out, the air of his words hitting your wet folds. “Having you like this, all to myself.”

You whine from above him. “Jungkook,” you whimper, “please.”

It doesn’t take more for him to lean closer, tongue licking a stripe up between your folds and to your clit, his silver arm sliding across your abdomen to keep you down as he eats you out for the first time in decades. One would think he had lost his touch and knowledge of a woman’s body, but you can say that he certainly didn’t as he roots himself between your legs, tongue licking your wetness and prodding at the entrance.

“Oh god,” you moan, softly gasping for air as his human hand rests on top of your one thigh, fingers digging into the flesh there. You’re in heaven, on the ninth cloud as he slurps your arousal, licking your folds and clit as if his life depended on it. “Fuck, Jungkook!”

The sound of your name toppling from your lips as he hits a certain nerve makes his body flush with a warmth he almost forgot what feels like. You’re writhing in the tight hold of his silver arm, squirming as he licks you to your release. The orgasm is approaching fast and hard, Jungkook being the sole reason for it. No one could ever get you there as fast as him.

“I’m s-so close- oh!,” you pant, your walls clenching as Jungkook’s actual fingers slide into you. He pumps his hand in and out of you in a pace that is perfectly building up your orgasm. He takes nothing but a glance into his eyes as he leans down to softly kiss your clit that you’re toppling over, hitting the wall of your orgasm. “J-jungkook, my god!”

You jerk away as he leans forward, tongue licking up your release, tasting it on his taste buds. He hums with a small smile as he glances up at you, loving the way your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at the sight of him between your thighs. It takes nothing more than a few seconds before you shitting up, Jungkook meeting you halfway in a kiss. Tongues clash against each other, the taste of you on his tongue as he kisses you deeply, needingly.

“Please fuck me,” you mumble in between kisses, a desperate whining tone attached to your words. “Make love to me, Jungkook.”

He seals your words with a kiss, giving you a silent promise of doing just that. As if he’d lick you out and that would be it. No way.

You watch, teeth biting into your bottom lip, as he gets off the bed to remove the sweatpants you had dressed him in when you got back, getting him out of those military pants with belts and buckles all over them. His cock springs free, slaps against his abdomen as it stands proud into the air. A rush runs through your stomach at the sight, mouth slightly watering. Once the sweatpants and his boxers lie on the floor by his feet, he crawls back onto the bed. He moves closer, pushing you back onto your back as he hovers over you. You’re glancing at his silver arm for a mere split second, your hair reaching up to run along the hard edges of it. Jungkook can’t feel your touch but he’d like to imagine that he can as he watches your palm brushing over and further up to the nape of his neck. His eyes move back to lock with yours. You’re looking at him just like you did that last night of intimacy you had back in 1944, the night before he was sent off on a deathly mission. A huge wave of emotions hits him as he glances from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“I love you,” he softly says, eyebrows furrowed together as he looks at you, “so much, ____.”

You smile, pulling him down to meet you in a kiss. The kisses are soft, tender even as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. You gasp into his mouth as the tip of his cock prods at your folds. A hand of yours tangles back into his locks as he pushes inside, the tightness overwhelming for the both of you. He rests his forehead against yours, your breaths clashing together between you as he buries himself to the hilt.

“Shit,” he hisses, glancing down at your connecting hips. “Can i move?”

You nod your head, whispering, “yes.”

Jungkook watches the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pulls out and pushes back in, the sight causing him to do it again and again, wanting to see you lose yourself and succumb to the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls.

“Oh fuck!” You gasp as he gives you a particularly hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin as he hits that exact spot that makes you whimper out a soft, whiny moan. You’re clawing at his shoulders, his neck and chest as he sets a rhythm, keeping it steady as he grinds into you. He grabs your leg with his silver hand, helping you to wrap it around his waist. The other follows suit, locking with your other behind his back. He hits deep inside of you, his veiny cock sliding against your walls so deliciously.

It’s like that last night you had with him all over again just with more longing and more desperate kisses. Your stomach tingles with the overwhelming amount of emotions you’re feeling in this exact moment as you look up at him – his long hair slightly damp at the roots, his toned chest glistening in sweat as he works you both to a release, to a high you’re both so desperately in the need of.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as you unawarely clench around his length, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Don’t do that or I’ll cum right now.”

“Sorry!” You squeak, chuckling as he eyes you with a small smirk. God, you wanna ride him so badly. “Oh, Jungkook,” you moan breathily as he hits your spot again. He’s watching you, eyes running over your face as it contorts in pure pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he grunts, leaning up on his hands to get a better angle. He rams his hips into you, his strength coming to show as he thrusts into you harder than ever before. The power of his thrusts have you seeing stars as your second orgasm nears you. Jungkook can feel it as you clinch repeatedly around him. He won’t last much longer if you continue to do that.

High pitched moans tumble from your parted lips as he speeds up his movements, desperately trying to get you over the edge before he topples over himself. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as you reach your high, the orgasm hitting you like a bullet.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, breathing ragged as he continues to fuck you to get himself to cum. His breathing is uneven, not matching his thrusts as all as he moves in and out a few more times before stilling inside of you, spilling his load and painting your walls inside.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathes out as he drops his forehead to your collarbone. You’re smiling widely as you run your fingers from his shoulders and up into his hair. He lifts his head to look at you as you push his long, brown hair out of his face. You know him too well when he gives you a look, a small smirk on his lips. A joke is coming. You can just feel it. And you can’t help but grin at him as everything feels exactly like 1944 again. Also, you want to punch him for his next words:

“Not too bad for a 98-year-old, huh?”

2K notes · View notes

beefromanoff · 1 year ago

Text

Going Under Ch. 25

summary: shopping in NYC, core memories at the compound, and things get steamy.

characters: Bucky Barnes x OC

soundtrack: think twice - Eve 6

warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.

author’s note: this chapter was going to be twice as long, but I wanted to break it up into two. thanks for reading, thanks for letting me take it slow, because this is my favorite daydream.

ps...the images below from a certain daydream of Gianna's are from tiktoker @animarvelita and all credit is to them!

chapter list

_________________________________________

“Wakey, wakey!” Wanda plopped onto Gianna’s (Bucky’s) bed with the energy of an overeager puppy. She was still in her pajamas, the sun barely peeking through the window.

“What time is it?” Gianna groaned, pulling the covers over her head.

“Oh, come on!” Wanda protested, pulling the comforter back down. “I’ve waited so long to go shopping with a girlfriend, please don’t make me wait any longer.”

“None of the stores are even open yet!”

“Well, we have to stop for coffee first. Duh.”

The magic word that always got Gianna out of bed.

An hour later, they’d officially banished their bedhead and were ready for the day. The morning sun cast a golden glow on the sleek glass exterior of the Tower. Wanda and Gianna emerged from the prestigious building, only one of them surprised by what was waiting outside. As soon as they stepped onto the sidewalk, the peaceful morning evaporated. A swarm of paparazzi, twice the size of the one from the past night, awaited them. Cameras flashed, and a cacophony of shouted questions filled the air.

"Gianna, is it true you and Bucky Barnes are an item?"

"Ms. Cruz, any comments on your rumored romance with the Winter Soldier?"

“Ms. Maximoff, are you seeing Peter Parker romantically?”

“Gianna, any new music coming soon?”

Wanda's eyes narrowed slightly, her protective instincts kicking in. Gianna, accustomed to the media frenzy, ignored them except for a slight smirk at Wanda when she was asked a question about Peter.

They swiftly made their way to the waiting black SUV, Gianna flashing her bright smile and waving. Once inside, Gianna let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing. "Man, I didn’t miss that." she said with a chuckle, glancing at Wanda.

Wanda nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "It comes with the territory, I suppose."

“So, are you?” Gianna’s eyes narrowed mischievously.

“What?”

“Seeing Peter Parker romantically?”

“Oh, shut up!”

Their first destination was one of Gianna's favorite coffee shops, a charming little place tucked in the corner of a smaller neighborhood in the city. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped them as they entered, the intimate shop a welcome refuge from the chaos outside.

Gianna ordered their specialty—a salted caramel macchiato—and Wanda opted for a chai latte. They settled into a corner booth, the soft hum of conversation and the occasional clink of cups creating a soothing background melody.

Pointing out of the window, Gianna said, "See that hotel over there? That’s where I used to live.”

Wanda followed her gaze. “You lived in a hotel?”

“Yeah. In the penthouse.” Gianna looked sheepish.

“Damn, I can think of worse places to live.”

“It might look glamorous, but it was incredibly lonely.” Her eyes glassed over. “There were some nights when the city seemed to mock my solitude. It’s always so busy, people everywhere, always on the move. I felt like I came home from the studio to my big, empty suite and all I heard were people’s lives happening down below. It just made me angry I didn’t have one of my own. "

Wanda's empathetic gaze met Gianna's. "I can't imagine how isolating that must have felt."

Gianna offered a wistful smile, attempting to shift the mood around. "But things are different now. I have you guys. I never thought I’d be able to say I’m going shopping with an Avenger."

“Oh, hush.” Wanda elbowed her. “You’re stuck with us now.”

With their coffees in hand, they strolled down the bustling New York streets, Gianna dismissing the driver for morning. She wanted to give Wanda the real ‘New York’ experience.

Their first stop was a luxury boutique, its windows adorned with the latest couture creations. A little known gem Gianna’s stylist had shown her.

Wanda’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she browsed the racks, her fingers dancing across the hangars. "What do you think of this dress?" she asked, holding up a gown that caught the light and reflected it across the room in a thousand pinpricks.

Gianna smiled. "It's stunning, Wanda. It would look amazing on you."

Encouraged by her approval, Wanda decided to try it on, disappearing into the fitting room with a swirl of fabric. As she emerged in the breathtaking gown, Gianna couldn't help but gasp. "Oh my God, you look absolutely enchanting. You have to get it. This would be perfect for the gala, or whatever Tony’s throwing."

Wanda twirled, the dress billowing around her like a cloud. "I wish. Unfortunately, superhero work doesn’t pay as well as you’d think.”

Gianna frowned. “You didn’t think I’d bring you shopping and not pay…did you?”

Before Wanda could protest, she’d disappeared around the corner, telling the store owner to add it to her tab - along with matching shoes and earrings.

The day continued in a whirlwind of shopping bags, laughter, and lots of swipes on Gianna’s credit card. Despite the relentless attention from the paparazzi, they managed to stay one step ahead thanks to service elevators and back doors.

The sun had finally dipped below the horizon as Gianna and Wanda returned to the Avengers' Tower, their arms laden with bags from their day of shopping. Quite literally feeling like they were about to drop, they decided to spend the night in. After a quick change of clothes, Gianna swiping the baggiest sweats she could find from Bucky’s room, they met back in the living room. It looked even bigger than it had on game night, the two of them taking up hardly any space in the sprawling room.

“Takeout?” Wanda purred, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

“Chinese?”

“Wine?”

“You dial, I’ll pour.”

As they sipped their wine and ate straight from the takeout boxes, a comfortable silence settled between them.

After a while, Gianna let out a sigh, her gaze drifting towards the city lights twinkling outside the window. "You know, Wanda," she began, her voice soft, "I really am thankful we met. I haven’t had…a lot of friends."

Wanda turned her head to look at her, putting a hand on her knee. "I know. I haven’t either. I’m glad too. I didn’t know how much I needed this."

“It sounds so silly, you know? To have this crazy, dream life…but all I could think about was having, I don’t know, normal experiences. I used to watch all these shows on TV with best friends getting ready or talking or going shopping,” She sipped her wine. “I used to get so jealous. Then I’d feel guilty for being ungrateful for the life I had.”

Wanda looked down at her lap. “I went to the store, kind of incognito, you know. It was right after they came out with my action figure. Nat had one for a while, I was so excited to finally get my own. I just wanted to go to the mall and see for myself. When I got there, I saw a group of girls, teenagers all buying one together. I went home crying. I didn’t even know why. It was…supposed to be something I was proud of, I was even going to buy one. Seeing them, all laughing together, it made me feel so alone. Then the fact that they were buying my action figure, it didn’t make me feel cool at all. It made me feel like some kind of…”

“Commodity?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Gianna squeezed Wanda’s hand. “I get it.”

“Damn…we really shouldn’t drink wine. This is depressing.” Wanda cleared her throat.

“Surely there’s something else around here somewhere.” Gianna laughed.

“Change of subject. What else do you want? You wanted friends, freedom, you got it. Maybe you’re speaking it into existence.” Wanda winked.

Gianna's gaze became distant, her laughter trailing off. “I don’t know…I guess I want more of this. I want to be surrounded by people I love. I don’t like to be alone.”

Wanda, unintentionally and without meaning to invade her friend's privacy, let her powers touch the surface of Gianna's thoughts. What she saw there made her heart swell. Images of a future, warm and inviting, unfolded before her. She saw Gianna and Bucky, their faces etched with happiness. Crows’ feet had formed around both of their eyes from years of laughter. They were surrounded by children with familiar blue eyes and dark hair, the spitting image of who Wanda could easily tell was their father. She could feel the longing, even in Gianna’s fleeting daydreams.

“Wanda?”

“What? Sorry!” She shook her head, snapping back to reality.

“I asked what you would want, if you could choose anything.”

Wanda smiled. “I guess I want the same thing. Less training. More shopping sprees. A world that doesn’t need to be saved.” She winked. “To be able to wear heels around Peter without being taller than him.”

“Cheers to that,” Gianna raised her glass, gesturing out the window to the sprawling city skyline. “Let’s hope there’s a shooting star out there somewhere.”

______

“I still can’t believe it took three trips to unload all your bags.” Peter groaned, dropping the last round on the common room floor.

“It wouldn’t have taken three trips if you could carry them all at once.” Wanda winked.

“Hey, I’m not -” he protested before being interrupted by Gianna.

“What, a superhero?” She elbowed him playfully. “Thanks, Peter. You’re the best!”

Shortly after their early afternoon arrival at the compound, the sun had enticed everyone to enjoy the unseasonably warm October day. It was quiet around the compound, Tony and Nat still in New York and Steve and Bucky not due back from their mission for another day. Gathered near the lake, Peter and the girls had joined Sam on the dock. A game of frisbee had started, but got cut short when Wanda complained that she was bored.

Peter, raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Who's up for a little adventure?" he asked, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

Wanda perked up immediately. "What do you have in mind?"

With a dramatic flourish, Peter shot a web towards a nearby tree, creating a makeshift rope swing. "Ladies and Sam, I present - the world’s first Spider-Swing!” Tugging on the web, he swung out over the water before letting go and loosely backflipping into the water.

Gianna and Wanda exchanged amused glances before Gianna shrugged, “Well, if it’s the world’s first!” She stood and kicked off her shoes, tugging her sweatshirt over her head just as a soaking wet Peter climbed onto the dock.

“Yeah…probably should have taken my shoes off first.” He shook his wet hair, making Wanda squeal as the droplets rained down on her. Holding out his hand, he looked at Gianna. “You ready?”

“Don’t make me regret this.” She grinned nervously, taking his hand. Peter pulled her to his side, wrapping an arm around her waist as he shot a web high into a nearby tree. The tension on the web pulled them into the air, cool wind sending Gianna’s hair flying behind them. When they got to the highest point, Peter let go, sending them both tumbling through the air towards the glassy lake. As she plunged into the water, the cold shock momentarily stole her breath, but it was replaced by exhilaration. From the dock, Sam and Wanda watched as they broke the surface. Gianna’s scream and Peter’s laughter echoed across the water.

Their heads bobbed to the surface a moment later, laughter resuming.

“Me next!” Wanda set her shoes aside.

“Girl, did you forget you can fly?” Sam eyed her.

“Shut up!” A wave of her hand sent Sam hurtling off the dock and into the water. Peter climbed onto the dock, giving Gianna a hand before turning to swing away with Wanda. Gianna couldn’t help but notice his hand was ever-so-slightly lower on Wanda’s hip than on her own. She grinned as they fell into the water.

Peter, clearly not content with the current level of excitement, decided to up the ante. With reckless abandon, he swung higher and higher, the arc of his swing stretching dramatically with each turn. The girls sat on the edge of the dock with Sam, clothes all completely soaked through.

“Gianna, are you afraid of heights?”

Wanda and Gianna exchanged a nervous glance, realizing what Peter was asking. "Peter, don't you dare—" Wanda began, but it was too late.

With a whoop that echoed across the compound, Peter looped his arm around Gianna’s waist and sent them both soaring into the sky, reaching a height that seemed almost impossible. For a heart-stopping moment, they hung frozen in midair, two silhouettes against the late afternoon sky. A second later, gravity reclaimed them, sending both bodies hurtling towards the water.

“Shit,” Wanda knit her brows together, holding a hand out to slow down their fall. Sam tensed beside her. Before she could engage her powers, Peter shot another web and swung to catch Gianna ten feet above the water’s surface. He held her around the waist, swinging by the dock and dropping onto his feet, lowering her gently to the ground. Her laughter rippled in the air, unaware of any danger ever surrounding her. She had nothing but trust in her friends, for better or for worse.

Gianna wiped wet strands of hair out of her face, still laughing. “You have officially ruined roller coasters for me, nothing will ever compare to that.”

Peter bowed dramatically, water droplets cascading from his hair. "Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all week."

Sam and Wanda exchanged glances, both of them taking a deep breath of relief. They knew Peter would never intentionally hurt anyone, but sometimes his playful nature got the best of him and he’d forget how powerful he truly was. Before Gianna had even caught her breath from the adrenaline rush, two sets of combat boots thudded across the dock.

“Bucky, stop!”

“What the HELL were you thinking!”

All four heads whipped around to see Bucky storming down the dock towards them, seeing red. Steve was hot on his tail, both of them still in full tactical gear. Without slowing down, Bucky made a beeline for Peter, who’d gone pale.

“I didn’t, I was just -” He was cut off by Bucky grabbing a fistful of his soaking wet t-shirt and pulling him close.

“You were just…what?” Bucky’s voice was a low snarl, dripping with rage.

Peter, standing on his tiptoes as his shirt was firmly bunched in a metal fist, looked utterly terrified. "I...uh, we were just having fun, Buck, I swear!"

Steve placed a calming hand on Bucky's shoulder, his brows knit together. "Easy, Buck. Let's talk about this."

Bucky was on the edge, his concern for Gianna sending him beyond reason. He ignored Steve completely. "Fun? You call risking her safety fun?" His gaze darted to Sam and Wanda, who looked equally taken aback. "And you two, you just let it happen! You’re supposed to know better, what were you thinking?!"

Gianna’s eyes were big and watery, guilt bubbling in her stomach watching her friends get scolded. The playful atmosphere of moments before had been shattered. Her heart felt twisted, half of her overjoyed to see Bucky a day earlier than expected and half of her in shock at this side of him she hadn’t seen before.

Bucky's jaw clenched, his frustration palpable. "She shouldn't have to risk her safety for anyone's amusement. She's not a toy, Wanda. I mean come on guys, the goddamn bruises on her back haven’t even healed!"

“Bucky…” Gianna’s voice was soft, tentative. “No one made me do it…I wanted to. It isn’t their fault.”

His harsh, angry expression faltered at her voice and he released Peter. Slowly, Bucky turned to Gianna, eyes running over her entire body. He gingerly cupped her face, still scanning for any sign of harm. “Are you okay?” His eyes had completely softened, all anger had given way to concern.

“I’m perfectly fine.” She smiled softly, his warm hands feeling heavenly on her cold cheeks. Holding his gaze, she pressed a gentle kiss on his palm.

Steve stepped in, his tone firm but understanding. "We get it, Buck. I'll talk to Peter and make sure it doesn't happen again. We're all here to look out for each other."

Bucky nodded, but didn’t look away from Gianna. "You’re sure you're okay?"

Gianna nodded, her voice small. "I'm fine, Bucky, really."

Bucky's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he reluctantly backed down, his protectiveness still evident. "Fine…but you should at least get changed. You’re going to catch a cold if you stand out here in soaking wet clothes.”

She grabbed her sweatshirt from the crumpled pile on the ground, giving Peter and Wanda an apologetic look while her back was to Bucky. Turning, she held her hand out to him. “Care to escort me?”

The tension began to ease as they walked back towards the compound, but it was clear that Bucky's protective stance wasn't just a passing moment of anger—it was a reflection of how deeply he cared for Gianna. His anger was well-contained, so for it to come out so wildly, especially towards his team…they knew he wasn’t messing around when it came to her.

Once they were out of earshot, Steve turned to the group, eyebrows raised.

“You guys could have been a little more careful.”

“I know, Cap, it’s my fault. I should have stopped it.” Sam looked sheepish.

“No, no, it’s my fault, I got carried away and—” Peter began to fumble out an apology before Steve interrupted, holding a hand up.

“I get it. You don’t need a lecture. Just…be careful. Especially with Gianna. Bucky’s a little overprotective, especially since the accident. No harm no foul.” He gave a reassuring smile. “But you should get changed, don’t want anyone getting sick around here.”

Back in her room, Bucky made a beeline for the massive bathtub that hadn’t been used yet. As hot water began to fill the basin, Gianna sat on the edge, tugging on his arm.

“You’re back.”

“We finished a day early, I wanted to surprise you.”

She chuckled. “You definitely did.”

Bucky sighed, dropping to his knees in front of her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I just…when I came around the corner and saw you, so high in the air, all I could think of was that day.” His jaw clenched. He didn’t have to elaborate. They both knew exactly what he meant. “You were so vulnerable and I was too far away to save you. If something had happened to you—”

Gianna stroked his cheek, tilting his head up to look at her. “I know. I should have been more careful. I didn’t mean to scare you. You were completely justified to feel that way.”

He studied her face, eyes still concerned. Wordlessly, she lifted her hands over her head, giving him a pleading look. The water was the only sound as his hands grabbed the hem of her soaked t-shirt, slowly pulling it over her head. His breath caught as he studied her, topless, right in front of him. He’d seen her change before, but either averted his eyes of politeness or, more recently, desire to avoid temptation. This time, his eyes were locked on her. Goosebumps erupted across her skin, the cold air caressing her exposed body.

Gianna stood, her stomach now level with his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he slipped his fingers inside her waistband and tugged her sweatpants down. She stepped out, leaving a soaking pile of clothes on the floor and her standing in nothing but a pair of white lace underwear.

For the second time today, Bucky showed a side of himself she didn’t recognize. His eyes were dark as he bit his lip, eyes devouring her. As he knelt before her, he ran a hand up the back of her leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His blue eyes were hungry as he looked up at her, the intensity making her blush. Steam curled around her body from the nearly full bath behind her.

A teasing smile danced on her lips as Gianna turned away from him. Hooking her thumbs in the lace, she let the last article of clothing fall to the floor. Bucky let out a soft moan, frozen in place on his knees. She lowered herself slowly into the water, the warmth feeling indescribable on her chilled skin. When she was fully submerged, she rested her elbows on the edge, meeting Bucky’s eyes.

“Join me?”

His breath caught.

Eyes full of want, he reached out and stroked her hair back from her face. The cargo pants and tactical vest he had on, still adorned with weapons, made him look even bigger than he was. The juxtaposition of his intimidating exterior against his soft, pleading eyes was poetic. For a moment, Gianna felt like she couldn’t breathe.

This is it. It’s finally going to happen.

Just as she felt warmth and butterflies flood her stomach, he stood.

“I should clean up.” Bucky’s eyes had cleared, something inside him shifting. “I haven’t showered in days, I’m disgusting. I’ll come back when you’re done and we can catch up.”

He knelt down, cupping her surprised face, and planted a sweet kiss on her forehead. “I missed you.”

Before she could protest, he was shutting the door behind him.

What the hell just happened? Gianna blinked.

Bucky shut the door to his room harder than he anticipated, leaning against it as he tried to catch his breath. Goddammit. This is going to be harder than I thought. He stripped off layer after layer of his gear and stepped into the cold shower, trying with everything in him not to think about her in the hot bath one room over.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #avengers #bucky barnes x oc #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan #winter solider x reader #winter soldier fluff

15 notes · View notes

blackwidownat2814 · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 3,067 times in 2022

That's 2,019 more posts than 2021!

55 posts created (2%)

3,012 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@foreverindreamlandd

@angrythingstarlight

@jobean12-blog

@bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

@munsons-maiden

I tagged 2,438 of my posts in 2022

Only 21% of my posts had no tags

#bucky barnes - 568 posts

#bucky barnes x reader - 452 posts

#eddie munson - 424 posts

#bucky barnes x you - 422 posts

#bucky barnes fanfiction - 387 posts

#eddie munson x reader - 305 posts

#eddie munson fanfiction - 299 posts

#eddie munson x you - 292 posts

#eddie munson x female!reader - 206 posts

#bucky barnes x y/n - 206 posts

Longest Tag: 90 characters

#for the mexicans and the atheists and pagans and the iranians and iraqis and everyone else

My Top Posts in 2022:

I just need everyone to know that @blizzspeaks is a QUEEN and amazing person. That is all.

PS: go read her work!!!!

19 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

Um...what?

Thanks go out to @give-me-a-moose for bringing this to my attention. I’m famous now, so ask questions must go through my ‘people’. Thank yew.

49 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

See the full post

53 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

Roll the Dice (B.B)

Summary:

Then.

Your first day on the job changed your life. A few years later, you got your Master’s in Library Science, and left your hometown...

…and you ended up in Manhattan at the New York Public Library, a few blocks from a certain Tower.

And the rest, as they say, is history…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word Count: 3490

Warnings: fluff.

Also, thanks to @beefybuckrrito for all the help in beta-ing this oneshot! You the best queen! Another shout out to my girl Col @foreverindreamlandd for no reason other than she’s awesome!

‼️⚠️I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, translated or reposted anywhere else but on my own blog.⚠️‼️

See the full post

173 notes - Posted March 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

wip meme

post the last line you wrote (from any wip) and tag the same number of people as there are words.

Tagged by the awesome @thisonesatellite

Heimdall and Loki stood unbothered in New Himinbjorg...

-From my attempt at a Bucky x reader, with Hanahaki disease as a main part of the story. Still working on ironing out the details.

Tagging: @foreverindreamlandd @jobean12-blog @navybrat817 @writing-for-marvel @radiantheartbeat @just-chirpin @tuiccim @sillyrabbit81

186 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

3 notes · View notes

plus-size-reader · 3 years ago

Text

Undercover

Bucky Barnes x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 3271 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Bucky finally admitting how much he loves the reader, after seeing her with Zemo

—————————————————————————————————

You hated it.

The idea that the three of you had to play dress up just to avoid murder in Madripoor seemed arbitrary to you but you understood that you didn’t really get to make that call.

As much as you despised it, he knew this place far better than you, Buck, or Sam did. At least in this place, you had to play his game.

Which was how you’d managed to get yourself into this predicament in the first place.

“I’ll kill you”

The empty threat fell from your lips again and again as you looked between an overly enthused Zemo, who was holding out a dress to you on a hanger, and Bucky, his jaw tight as he tried to figure out how serious you were.

Right now, you needed him, you all did and as gladly as Bucky would have let you choke the life out of him, they had to find Karli first.

“We all have our roles to play, liebchen, this is yours” the Sokovian hummed back, not at all fazed by the glare you were giving him. In fact, if you had to guess, you would say that he was getting quite a kick out of this.

He thought it was funny.

“I’m gonna kill him” you groaned again, this time addressing your words to Sam, as you snatched the dress from the male in front of you.

This was ridiculous.

Zemo’s plan was a simple one, all things considered. The three of you had to play your parts if you were going to walk among the criminals and lowlifes that called Madripoor their home.

Sam was playing Smiling Tiger, some African gangster, who even you had to admit looked a lot like him. Bucky was playing himself, or more accurately, the man Hydra turned him into.

By all accounts, your job was easy.

Zemo suggested that it would be best if you got all dressed up, and played the part of a woman in his company. Considering the standing he had in this place, it wouldn’t raise any red flags for him to have you on his arm.

It wasn’t that big of a deal.

Not really.

If Bucky could play the Winter Soldier after all this time, there was no reason you couldn’t put on a dress and some heels, it just didn’t feel right.

You were accomplished in the field of international intelligence, and in a few moments, he’d managed to strip that all away.

In this place, all you were good for was your body.

A body that you hadn’t exactly made a habit of showing off.

You had worked tirelessly to do what had to be done, and even more so to be respected. That meant being seen as a weapon and an asset far more often than you needed to be seen as a woman.

It just didn’t serve you well, most of the time.

Though, even you had to admit that as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you were shocked.

You had spent so much time in tactical gear and bullet proof vests, you forgot you had curves like this.

...and you weren’t the only one.

You were almost sure that when you came back into the room that all three men nearly swallowed their tongues.

“Can somebody zip me up?” you asked, your skin hot as you tried to go about this in the most professional way that you could. This was a mission after all, and you had to take it just as seriously.

It didn't matter that it felt like one big embarrassing dream.

You couldn’t have zipped it yourself if you tried, and you had, it was far too tight for that.

You knew that you were almost completely covered as you held the fabric tight to your chest, but it just felt too intimate to be doing this with friends you’d known for so many years.

...and Zemo.

Who took it upon himself to step up to the plate, his fingers fiddling with the zipper with the dexterity and ease of a man who had done, or undone, this a thousand times.

You nodded to him with as much gratitude as you could bear to show him given the circumstances, then turned around to face the three of them fully, once the male at your back had finished.

It was a nice dress.

As vile as you thought Zemo was, he certainly knew how to pick out something you would be comfortable in.

Well, as comfortable as you could be, given the fact that the dress fell just under your butt, and barely reached the middle of your thigh.

Not to mention the fact that it was tight.

Really tight, to the point where you were sure that if you were to so much as bend down to slide on your heel, you feared that the zipper may actually pop.

“Well, what do we think?” you questioned, trying to get anyone to say anything.

After all the fuss they’d caused trying to get you into this thing, you would have thought there would be more feedback to be had.

Somebody had to say something.

The more time you spent standing here, under each of their unique gazes, the more you wanted to put your clothes back on and stay here. There was no real reason for you to be involved.

Or, at least, that was what you kept trying to convince yourself.

In reality, you knew that if you tried to stay, these three would either get themselves killed or kill each other, and neither of those things was going to help you find Karli or the Flags Smashers.

They needed you, and right now, they needed you in this stupid dress.

“It fits you well, I knew it would” the Baron spoke first, a small smirk on his face in an I-told-you-so sort of way that made you roll your eyes, but he wasn’t wrong.

As tight as it was, it made your body look incredible.

“For once, I agree with Zemo, it’s a nice dress” Sam allowed, not even bothering to not stare a little at your body, one that he had never really had the privilege of seeing like this in all the time you two had known one another.

You looked good.

Even you had to admit that you looked incredible, even though the idea of this dress made you super uncomfortable to begin with.

You nodded, considering their words for a moment before your focus shifted to Bucky, who had yet to say anything yet. Of course, that wasn’t because there wasn’t something to say, it was just because he couldn't find the words.

This was quite the change from how he was used to seeing you.

“It’s good, it should work” Bucky tried eventually, clearing his throat in a desperate attempt to cover up the fact that he too had been staring, before turning away from you completely.

Normally, you would have been increasingly more uncomfortable with the looks you were getting, but you were sure this was only the tip of the iceberg for the looks you were going to be getting tonight.

It would likely just be better if you let yourself live in the fantasy for a while.

After all, this wasn’t the first time you’d ever been undercover and it always went the same way. All you had to do was do as you were told for a while, until the mission was complete and then you could take this off.

It wouldn’t kill you.

“Alright, let's get this over with” you decided, taking one more deep breath before heading toward the door, not missing the way their eyes followed you again.

This was going to be a long night.

“You’re sure this is going to work?” you hummed, your quick strides keeping up with the men by your side with no problem, though the heels you were wearing were proving to be more challenging than you’d originally considered.

Zemo shrugged, something that he intended to relax you, not that it served that purpose.

Clearly, he didn’t understand what you were asking, because surely if he had, he would have done something else in the way of reassuring you that you weren’t walking into some death trap.

Thankfully, Bucky stepped in as best he could to do just that before you could abort on the whole mission. By this point in your lives, he wouldn’t have put it past you to just put a bullet in Zemo and moved on.

You had never been one for unnecessary risk.

“Just stay close” he allowed, using that gruff, serious tone that you hadn’t heard from him in a long time.

That wasn’t normally how Bucky spoke to you, but given the circumstances, you decided not to split hairs.

Of all the things to talk about right now, that wasn’t really the most pressing one.

This was about the mission, more than anything else.

“James is correct. As long as you stay in character, everything should be fine” Zemo decided, his words little more than a hushed whisper as the four of you approached the Brass Monkey Nightclub.

It was showtime.

If anyone in this place caught on to what you were doing, there would be nothing he could do to keep them from killing you all.

Madripoor could be dangerous, especially for people like you, doing what you were doing. If you didn’t play your roles perfectly, there was no telling what was going to happen to you.

Still, even given the circumstances, the four of you stayed relatively cool as you entered the facility, passing the threshold with a simple wave to the bouncer from Zemo.

You could do this.

Keeping up appearances was one of the things you were best at, and as long as you remembered why you were doing this, it wouldn't be a problem.

You only flattered for a moment when Zemo’s hand found the space between your two bodies in the crowd and pulled you that much closer, but instead of scolding him as you so desperately wanted to, you grinned instead.

After all, you were supposed to be the doe-eyed girl on his arm and little more. As degrading and unrealistic as it was, no one in this place was really searching for hairs to split.

If you put on a good show, they would let you pass without trouble.

So, you did your best to move through the crowd with as much ease as you could, which was actually easier than you would have thought.

The bar was basically packed wall to wall but thankfully, you had a secret weapon.

Bucky’s presence alone seemed to keep them at a distance.

Or, as he was right now, The Winter Soldier’s presence.

“It should only be a moment, perhaps we should get a drink?” the baron offered, speaking to the three of you in as casual a voice as he could muster, the most charming grin you’d ever seen plastered on his face.

You had never seen him as anything less than completely confident in his choices, but even Zemo seemed a little shaken up right now.

There was a lot going on in the bar, and if anything went wrong, the consequences would be dire.

You couldn’t afford any slip ups.

So, it seemed that, at least for now, the best option you had was to let loose and try to just blend in with everyone else.

“That’s a wonderful idea” you decided, shooting Bucky a glance over his shoulder, though you did your best to remain as fixated on the Baron as you could have ever been, even going so far as to rest your hand on his bicep.

You were laying it on a little thick, but given the circumstances, it couldn’t hurt.

Of course, you didn’t miss the look of distaste that flooded the other man’s face at your action, which you couldn’t have missed given how tight his jaw was but you paid him no mind.

It wouldn't make a difference.

Right now, you were playing a role and if you did it well enough, you may actually get out of here alive.

For the most part, it looked to be working.

Though the ruse you were trying to get away with wasn’t all that smooth in practice, it wasn’t flimsy either and most of the people in this bar had no idea what was going on.

...until, of course, it was all said and done.

Selby was dead, which wasn’t all that surprising to you, and Sharon was back, having been hiding away in Madripoor all this time, which was slightly more shocking news.

Not that you cared about that right now.

All you could think about at the moment was getting out of this stupid dress and into some pants, which Sharon was kind enough to lend you from the outrageous stockpile of stuff from her warehouse.

She really had been busy since you’d seen her last, and she’d gathered quite the collection.

A collection that included a pair of shorts and a tank top that was sure to be much more comfortable than this awful garment. Which, you were having the worst time getting off.

While getting the dress over your hips and zipped up was a task in itself, getting it off had to have been impossible.

Of course, you did your best to get out of the dress as best you could without ruining it before eventually, you gave up.

The more you struggled with the fabric, the more frustrated you got and the harder it was.

All in all, it was one vicious cycle and no matter what you did, it felt like you were going to be trapped in this fabric prison forever.

It was really claustrophobic and it was hard to keep calm.

Thankfully, just as you began to consider trying to claw your way out of the dress like a racoon, Bucky came around the corner, nearly scaring you out of your skin.

Your obvious struggle sort of felt like it was going to go on and on, and no one was going to interrupt.

“You okay?” Bucky called, announcing himself as he came to a stop outside the door, which was only open enough for him to know you were there without seeing just how much of a bind you’d gotten yourself into.

Not that he was about to leave until you told him for sure that you were alright.

Which you certainly weren’t.

“Actually, I think I need help” you answered, hoping that he would be willing to get you out of this, even if it was a tad more intimate and close than the two of you were used to. You wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t need it.

After all, it wasn’t like you could get out of this by yourself.

Bucky did little more than hum, taking that as his permission to enter the room, only to stop when he laid eyes on you in the center of the room.

“I’m stuck” you sighed, well aware that you must have looked crazy with one arm out of the silky cage and one desperately trying to reach behind you toward the zipper.

Part of you assumed Bucky was going to laugh or leave you there to struggle on your own but once he’d had a second to take it in, he closed the door behind him.

Probably in hopes that no one else would encounter the strange sight before him.

“You did really well today” Bucky hummed, his voice filling the room with casual smalltalk as he tried to get your arm untangled from the dress, all of his focus on the task at hand.

Still, you did your best to match the casual energy he was bringing to the table, ignoring the obvious subtext within this situation that the two of you weren’t quite willing to address, though you were both feeling it.

Subtext best left that way, you thought.

“Thanks. I’ll have to admit, hanging on Zemo’s arm all night wasn’t as charming as it may have seemed” you joked, keeping your body as still as you could while Bucky worked now on the zipper at your back.

Thankfully, he was able to get it undone so you could actually get out of this thing.

Bucky smiled slightly at that, before turning away from you completely, likely heading back out to listen to Zemo and Sam bicker back and forth for the next few hours.

...but there was something you couldn’t stop thinking about.

All day long, Bucky had been looking at you strangely, like there was something he was trying to tell you but he didn’t have the words.

Even now, you didn’t have to study him to know that there was something on his mind.

Whatever it was, you were sure it had something to do with his real reason for coming to check on you, regardless of your dress mishap.

“Hey Buck? Are you okay?” you called, partially hoping that he would tell you that he was fine so that you could move on, assuming that you’d simply overreacted.

However, when he finally turned back around again, that same look was present on his face.

There was definitely something going on, and whatever it was, you both knew there was no use hiding it anymore.

He knew that he had to come clean.

“I don’t like the way he looked at you, or people seeing you with him” he sighed, a strange finality in his tone that put into words the feelings you had both been ignoring all this time.

Even still, you never really thought he would say it out loud.

You never thought that either of you would admit that you felt anything for the other, but clearly, your escapades today with Zemo had forced something out of Bucky that neither of you expected.

He couldn’t help it.

It was bad enough that he had to masquerade as the killer he’d been trying to distance himself from all this time, but he also had to watch Zemo lead you around like a show dog on a leash for everyone in the bar.

He hated it, and he never wanted anyone to look at you like that again.

Not that you didn’t look amazing.

Perhaps that was another part of the problem Bucky was facing. You were beautiful and Zemo did an excellent job choosing a dress that would only accentuate the beauty he already knew was there but it was for all the wrong reasons.

A dress like that was one that he would have seen you in the first time a hundred years ago before he took you on a nice dinner, after getting your parents permission to take you out for the night.

...or, at least, for something better than a lie.

You deserved to dress up like this for something worth more than a con, just like you deserved to know that no matter what happened, he would always be there to help you out of whatever uncomfortable situation you found yourself in.

Whether that be a dress or a life threatening battle.

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to take me out instead, so people can look at us like that” you countered, a soft smile on your face as you settled on the well-fitting tank top Sharon had gotten for you.

That was the only way you could think to rectify such a wrong.

546 notes · View notes