#woodworker!bucky barnes

[navybrat817]

I picture Bucky as a good dad. Like you're tired and he takes over without hesitation.

Oh, he's an amazing dad, nonnie. I agree he would take over immediately.

Sleepless Nights

Pairing: Woodworker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky offers to check on Jellybean so you can get some rest. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Fluff, insecurities, early parenthood, reflecting, nickname (daughter is called Jellybean, reader is called Jewel), feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes as a dad (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Sorry it isn't much, but here's a little something with our woodworker. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone​, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was already awake when he heard fussing in the next room, every cell in his body on alert at the sound. He was a light sleeper to begin with and always had an ear open, but having a baby in the house gave him all the more reason to pay attention to every noise around him. You began to sit up with half open eyes and a groan when the fussing turned to cries, your instincts likely calling to you through your exhaustion to soothe your baby. You were a wonderful mother through and through.

But you had only fallen asleep a few minutes ago after feeding and changing her and you needed as much rest as possible.

“No, no, no,” he whispered as he brushed his lips against your temple and helped you lay back down. “It’s my turn.”

“You sure?” You asked, trying to stifle a yawn. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” he assured you, giving you another kiss. “I offered, remember?”

It wasn’t easy for you to relinquish control or ask for help out of fear that you weren’t a good enough mom, but he was quick to squash that insecurity. He didn’t want you to feel any sort of guilt or shame over needing rest. You also didn’t have to go it alone since you had him by your side.

You were equal partners and parents.

“Thanks, Hunk,” you smiled tiredly.

He smiled back and tucked the blanket around you. “You don’t need to thank me for being a dad,” he teased before you closed your eyes. “Just get some rest for the both of us, Jewel.”

Once he was sure you wouldn’t try to get up, he went to check on your daughter. His daughter. One of the two lights of his life.

Living proof that his heart had room for two.

Carefully opening the nursery door, his heart almost stopped as the cries increased. The sound evoked many things within him, like the need to protect her and the worry that he wouldn’t be able to comfort her the way you could. Pushing his anxiety aside, he approached the crib with a soft smile when she whimpered and immediately reached in to pick her up. The vibranium arm cradled her lower half as he rested her against his chest.

The previous metal forced upon was meant to inflict pain, but the vibranium provided hope.

“Hey, Jellybean,” he whispered, brushing his nose against the top of her head and taking care not to scratch her skin with his beard as her whimpers stopped almost immediately. The sweet scent was so distinctly her, a biological perfume that he could pick up even if she was surrounded by other babies. “Can’t sleep, huh?”

Bucky had heard from others that babies had distinct cries, but he didn’t realize how true that was until he began to decipher Jellybean’s sounds. Since she couldn’t tell either of you with words what or how she was feeling, she did so with sounds and visual cues. There was no yawning, so she wasn’t sleepy, and no lip smacking, so he ruled out hunger. She didn’t squirm in his hold, so discomfort or a dirty diaper were out. Coupled with the fact that she grew quiet the second he picked her up told him all he needed to know.

His baby just wanted some attention.

“I’m sorry if you wanted Mama, but she needs her rest,” he whispered, taking a seat in the rocking chair he built. He covered you with a soft blanket next, a gift from Steve and Tippy. Ironically enough, you got them a similar blanket for their little Peanut. “So do you.”

He began to hum a lullaby as he glanced around the room. Jellybean’s laughter would fill it one day and provide another memory he’d make sure not to forget. Even in the dark, he could feel the care crafted within every inch of the space. Beams and walls helped make the house, but it was a home because of the love you poured into it.

It didn’t always feel real though.

Some days, he feared he’d open his eyes only to find himself back in the chair, shaking from the pain and electroshock. Or that he’d be back on ice, reaching out a hand for the two of you before he froze. He had to remind himself that the worst part of his life was over, that the nightmare was finished and you were his dream come true.

The person who helped him pick up the pieces of himself, one at a time.

“You know, I spent a long time believing that I wasn’t a good man. That I’d never be worthy of you or your mom. That I didn’t deserve this,” he told her, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs as he exhaled. “But I am a good man and I do deserve my family.”

And all he wanted was to be a good husband and father.

His daughter’s tiny hand moved to his chest and he had to blink back tears at the small source of comfort. She was vulnerable, inspiring, a precious gift, and a token of the love you had for him. Looking at her for the first time and seeing purity and wonder in her gaze was like rekindling his best sense of self.

He may not always be able to catch her when she falls, but he would pick her up, dust her off, and let her try again.

“Maybe I needed to hold you tonight as much as you needed to be held,” he smiled softly. It wouldn’t have surprised him if she sensed it. “You’ll hear my story one day. No matter what you think of me after I tell you, I’ll always be your father and protector,” he promised as she started to doze off, completely at ease in his arms. He shut his eyes and allowed himself to relax, too. “And I’ll always love you and your mom, Jellybean.”

And in the room next door, you gazed at the baby monitor with watery eyes. “We’ll always love you, too, Bucky.”

I'm so soft! Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[navybrat817]

This is totally Alpine cuddling up with Jellybean. 🥰

Kitty senses something different

(via)

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest III

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: hand injury, mentions of blood, wound sutures/stitches, angry behaviour, jealousy, fighting, crying, racism against orcs. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part yet because it might take me a while with part 4 depending on how the very important interview i have on the 17th goes. please send me good wishes on the stars if possible i would really appreciate it. And please enjoy this one and let me know what you thought if you can xx💜💜

~

“I got you something, little human,” Bucky said, his tone softer than it was that same afternoon as he scratched the back of his head.

He was new to courting, and it wasn’t exactly normal that he was courting his already-wife. Still, he was doing everything possible.

Bucky’s life has all been about fighting and wars. He didn’t do love or courtship. He didn’t do coddling or romancing. But there was a first time for everything and he was trying his best.

“Thank you,” she replied without looking up, pretending to be focused on folding laundry.

She was ignoring him.

Bucky had let his voice get loud a couple of hours ago after he had found her lost in the forest again. Only this time her foot was already messed up and she needed the rest, but she wouldn’t listen.

It hurt him how much pain she was willing to go through if it meant she could get away from him, but he wouldn’t let it show.

Instead, he yelled in frustration as he brought her back to their cottage.

She seemed like she wouldn’t quit, and so he wasn’t going to quit either.

Despite her constant rejection, Bucky refused to give up, his determination fueled by a newfound sense of purpose. He was willing to endure anything, face anything, if it meant earning even a glimmer of acceptance, or even affection, from her.

“You didn’t even see what I got you,” Bucky tried again, hoping she would at least look at him.

When she did, he gave a tiny smile and walked to the cottage door, bringing something inside.

“Here.” He dragged in a shiny wooden chair and placed it before his on their small dining table.

“You bought me a chair,” she said, pretending to be uninterested to hide the warmth that just spread throughout her heart.

“I made you a chair,” Bucky corrected, proudly palming the smooth wood, swiping his tongue over his tusks.

Bucky knew gifts were an essential part of courting and he didn’t like how she had to eat on the bed while he ate alone on the dining table because he only owned one chair.

He knew his days as a loner were long gone and it made his heart swell that he had her to share his house and life with now.

So he got to work and decided to make her her own chair out of an old oak tree. Being a lumberjack who had a woodworking shop had its perks after all.

It was going to be a weekend surprise, but he thought now was better timing after the fight they just had.

“You— you made this? From scratch?” She stood up in surprise, laundry forgotten for now.

“Yes.”

“For me?” She asked, not able to hide her emotions at the kind gesture anymore.

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled, taking a step back so she could examine the chair.

She sat down and a big smile found its way on her lips when she looked up at Bucky. The chair was comfy and new and hers.

No one has ever gotten her anything, let alone made her something so beautiful. It was so special and a flood of emotions washed over her at the idea that someone had actually thought of her enough to make her a chair. That Bucky had made her a chair.

“Thank you,” she whispered, breaking eye contact so that she wouldn’t tear up.

Bucky only nodded in reply, internally celebrating the win with his heart doing backflips. She liked the chair.

She stood up and closed the small distance between her and the orc, getting on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, “welcome home.”

She quickly put the clean laundry in its place in the closet and went to the kitchen to start dinner, leaving Bucky with the most idiotic smile on his face as he shifted back and forth on his feet like a teenager.

She was punishing him for yelling at her by not making dinner, but that chair and the effort behind it deserved a good meal.

~

She was cleaning up after dinner later that night when she heard Bucky moving stuff outside. She didn’t pay it much mind; it was his house after all.

“Come outside, little human,” his voice called for her and she tentatively stepped out of the kitchen.

Bucky was standing by the open cottage door, a hopeful smile on his face as he encouragingly nodded for her to come over to him.

She didn’t know what to think, but any chance not to stay cooped up inside the cottage was going to receive a yes from her.

It wasn’t like she was ungrateful. She was certainly thankful she had a roof over her head and warm walls that she could hide inside from the rain and the cold.

But again, her situation wasn’t the most ideal either. If it was up to her, she would have stayed at the orphanage with the rest of the girls because if her fate was drawn for her to be an isolated orc’s wife, she didn’t want to be married.

When she stepped outside, however, marriage and Bucky didn’t seem that bad for a second.

“I thought we could watch the stars now that the sky was clear,” Bucky explained, internally nervous that she might call him ridiculous and refuse to sit with him.

He had waited for a day without rain and laid out a thick blanket on the ground before their cottage, the way lit for her feet by a close by lantern he had put out.

She was enthralled, mouth open and breath stolen. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of joy and disbelief engulfing her.

Bucky has even went as far as bringing out the shawl he had gotten her just in case she felt cold.

It was just like… a date.

Her heart raced and she smiled shyly at the orc, making him smile too as he watched her sit down on the blanket, holding her knees to her as she glanced up at the night sky nervously.

She has never been on a date before in her life, the town’s boys always picking other girls from the orphanage to fool around with, but never her. She was never really anyone’s type.

She slightly shook her head to shut down her insecure thoughts, knowing that none of those player town boys could have ever brought her on a date like this.

“Is the ground too cold?” Bucky asked as he draped her shawl over her shoulders.

She hugged the soft material around her body, smiling gratefully at the orc as she shook her head.

She was too shy to even speak at this point, her mind barely registering the amazingly romantic end to her day that Bucky had brought into existence.

Bucky then laid down on his back, wordlessly urging her to do the same.

She got on her back, eyes mesmerized by the sight of the stars. She has never seen so many before, her view from her room’s window at the orphanage was very limited.

It was different here in the middle of the woods because there were no town lights to take the view away from the sky and it was gorgeous.

“So beautiful,” she whispered with a smile, observing how the stars sparkled above them.

“Yes, the most beautiful,” Bucky whispered back, watching her as she watched the sky.

He wished she could one day look at him the same way she was looking at those stars; the same way he was looking at her.

In his eyes, there was a mix of determination and yearning, reflecting his unwavering commitment to win her heart despite her initial reluctance. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in every detail as if he couldn’t believe she was really here, right next to him.

She turned her eyes to him, her shy smile widening, “thank you for this, Bucky.”

Gods, the way she said his name was something else.

“You’re welcome, sweet thing.” Bucky smiled back, turning his eyes back to the sky as to not make her uncomfortable under his stare.

As they silently continued stargazing, she felt her heart become lighter. She felt so serene, so content, and she had suddenly forgiven Bucky for raising his voice at her just hours ago, wanting nothing but for this peacefulness to last for as long as possible.

Was it imaginable for marriage to be this good? Could her life finally be turning around?

She couldn’t help but want to see Bucky in a different light in this very moment.

She knew that he was harsh sometimes, but she also knew that she wasn’t making it easy for him either.

Maybe she didn’t choose him and didn’t choose this marriage, but Bucky was trying with real effort and she wasn’t blind to it.

Bucky cared for her when she was sick. He provided for her. He brought her gifts, filled up her half of the closet for her with anything and everything she could need. And he, most importantly, apologized when he was in the wrong, which wasn’t something common for the human males of this kingdom. He also respected her boundaries and hadn’t tried touching her after their first night together.

Could this all be preparation for the purpose of bedding?

No, it couldn’t be. Bucky didn’t need to do this to get her in his bed. He had already had her there and he had willingly let her go. He could have his way with her anytime if he really wanted to.

She wanted to believe that this moment was real so bad. She wanted to believe that Bucky was trying to win her heart.

So she did.

And if Bucky was trying, she was going to start trying too.

She knew just the thing to do actually.

She was going to make Bucky strawberry jam tomorrow to show him how grateful she was.

She might have not much to offer, but she knew she made the most delicious fruit jams and marmalades. It was her specialty at the orphanage. All the other girls always managed to ruin the jams, adding too much or too little sugar, applying too much heat or not enough, eventually producing something inedible. But not her. No, that was one thing she knew with her whole heart that she was good at.

She might’ve not been the prettiest of the girls, but she deserved a good life and she was now determined to build one. With Bucky.

She wasn’t in love with him, she knew that, but she didn’t need love to have a good marriage. Respect and effort were going to be enough.

This marriage could be her chance at building a life worth living.

“Could you bring home some strawberries tomorrow?”

~

“Oh my gods, this is amazing!” Bucky exclaimed, sliding another spoonful of strawberry jam in his mouth.

“I’m happy you like it,” she replied proudly, a smile plastered on her timid features as she brought a basket of sliced bread to the table.

It felt so good to have someone other than the orphanage girls taste her hand’s making. Receiving Bucky’s praise felt so much different than all the compliments she’s ever received before.

It felt… way better.

“It’s really good, little human.” Bucky was too busy adding jam on the piece of bread in his hand, groaning as he slipped it into his mouth and chewed, “how much of this did you make?”

She laughed, “well, I wanted to start with a small pot because I didn’t know if you liked jam and I didn’t wanna throw out any of it, but we have enough if you finish this and want more!”

“None of this is getting thrown out, little human,” Bucky told her seriously, “I asked because I wanted to take some to Sarah. She has a sweet tooth and she would love this.”

A frown quickly replaced her smile at the mention of another female’s name. She suddenly felt like wanting to take the bowl of jam away from the orc. Hell, she felt like she wanted to get back the jam he had already ate and swallowed.

“Who’s Sarah?” She asked, trying to act nonchalant as she greased her bread with some jam.

“She’s Sam’s sister,” Bucky answered innocently, oblivious to the way she hummed with her jaw clenched.

“And who’s Sam?”

“Oh, right, you don’t know Sam. He’s my best friend; and my partner in the shop. Great guy,” Bucky told her, more interested in the jam than her reaction.

At least Sam was a male.

So just to be clear, Bucky wanted to take the jam she made to his best friend’s sister so she could have a taste and satisfy her sweet tooth? Yeah, she didn’t like that very much.

“Is she, like, married?” She wondered, trying hard not to show her anger.

“Who?” Bucky asked, chewing the bite in his mouth, the foreign question finally gaining his attention.

“Sweet tooth Sarah,” she answered with a somewhat bitter tone that Bucky has never heard before, her thumb swiping under his plump lips before she could stop herself as she harshly wiped away jam from the orc’s face.

The realization as to why her mood had suddenly turned sour made Bucky smile as he hurriedly swallowed his food, “little human,”

She looked up at him with a silent glare.

Despite her efforts to appear unaffected, there was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hint of insecurity betraying her true feelings

“Are you… jealous?”

Bucky’s amused smile made her even angrier as she watched his lips literally twitching.

Jealous? Pfft, of course not! Why would she be jealous!

“No!” She replied aloud defensively, “it was just a question.” She stood up, collecting the plates from the table without asking if Bucky was done eating.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Bucky laughed, holding onto the small bowl of jam.

“Try to save some for your Sarah,” she snapped, snatching her hand from the orc’s as she let him have the bowl.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her surprising reaction, his widening smile still glued to his face.

She frustratingly sped to the kitchen, violently twisting the water tab open as she rolled her sleeves up and started washing the things in the sink.

She had went through all this trouble and used all of these bowls that she now had to wash just for him to want to take her jam to another female to eat.

Who did he think he was?

It was her fault for trying to do something nice in the first place.

He didn’t even answer her question, and that Sarah was probably unmarried. She was probably an orc too. Yeah, it made sense that Bucky would be attracted to someone similar to him. Those two ‘friends’ were probably part of his clan.

The clan he never introduced her to.

How naive was she to think this marriage could actually work?

Bucky was outside still smiling to himself like a fool as he finished the rest of her sweet jam.

She was jealous. She was jealous over him.

He didn’t want to upset her though, so he didn’t say anything, letting her calm down first.

He took the empty bowl to her, setting it in the sink as she avoided looking at him.

She heard him chuckle as he left the kitchen and it made her punch the sponge in her hand inside the bowl, pounding it angrily as she ‘washed’ it clean.

When she was done cleaning the kitchen and brushing her teeth, she stomped out to the bed, getting in and covering herself from head to toe as she gave Bucky her back.

Bucky walked to the lanterns and dimmed their lights before joining her in bed.

He laid on his back, innocently waiting for his good night’s kiss.

A minute passed. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. The kiss didn’t come.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered as not to startle her in the dark, “we had a deal. Where’s my kiss?” He put a hopeful hand on her shoulder, trying to twist her to face him.

“Have Sarah give you your kiss,” she replied with a deadpan tone, masking her fury as she pushed her pillow over her head, shrugging Bucky’s touch off her body.

Bucky stared at the back turned to him with an open mouth as he took his hand away and laid back, disappointment replacing his surprise and filling him up.

It was the first time since she had started feeling well again that she has refused to give him any of his kisses. Yet, respectful of her feelings, Bucky let her.

Maybe making her jealous wasn’t all that fun after all. But he didn’t even mean to make her jealous, he was just talking!

Bucky sighed, turning on his side as well as he fell asleep staring at the hidden back of her head.

~

The next morning as she put his breakfast on the table, she didn’t sit or eat with him, preferring to scrub the kitchen sink while Bucky ate even though she had just washed it the night before.

She didn’t give him his good morning kiss either; didn’t even speak to him.

She was still mad at him. This was serious for her, he realized.

Bucky might have found it fun last night, but today as she deliberately ignored his existence, he wanted nothing but to make her understand that what was in her head was nothing like the truth.

“Here, I packed jam for your sweet tooth Sarah,” she said harshly as she set a small jar of strawberry jam on the table before him.

“She’s not my—”

“Hope she likes it,” she cut him off, disappearing into the kitchen again.

Bucky sighed aloud, running a hand over his face as he stood up. Grabbing the jam, he took one look at the kitchen entrance before leaving the house for work with a clenched jaw.

She peeked outside when she heard the door shut to see the table empty. Bucky had taken the jar to Sarah.

Oh, that was it.

She could take being given to an orc against her will. She could take never having been chosen or given the chance to choose. She could take not being loved.

But she couldn’t and wouldn’t take being cheated on.

Was that why Bucky had decided to relieve her off her wifely duties in bed? Because he had another female? Was it because he had someone else to keep him warm and wet where he needed to be?

She couldn’t even think about the idea without feeling herself gag.

Why would he ruin her life by bringing her here when he already had that Sarah?!

How could she be so dumb, trying to meet him in the middle like that? Starting a peaceful life with this orc was never going to work!

She tried to pick the lock on the door like she usually would, but the new lock Bucky had put in wouldn’t budge.

She groaned in frustration before hauling herself up and out of the cottage window, running off to gods know where, hoping that luck would be her friend for once and maybe lead her somewhere out of these woods for good this time.

This marriage ends today.

~

Back at the shop, Bucky was as exasperated as they come as he used his chisel to shape the rough piece of wood in his hand.

After everything he was doing, how could she think that he had someone else? What was he doing wrong? What was missing?

Bucky had only ever wanted her. He thought he was the luckiest orc just because he got to fall asleep next to her every night.

How could he make her see that?

As his mind ran with thoughts and before Bucky could stop it, the chisel slipped and sharply cut the inside of his palm.

“Gods, fuck!” He shouted in pain as blood started flowing from the fresh wound.

Bucky tried to get the chisel from the floor so that no one would step on it, but his hand hurt more when he tried to squeeze his fist around the item. He grabbed it with his metal hand instead, rushing to the supply closet to find a clean towel to wrap around his cut.

He couldn’t continue working like that; couldn’t do anything with his hand.

Sam insisted on sending for his sister after seeing the amount of blood staining the cloth around Bucky’s hand.

Sarah tried to be efficient while messily stitching the wound as best as she could, wrapping it up carefully with gauze before advising Bucky to take a few days off work until his hand was healed. She was no doctor but she did her best for her friend.

Bucky thanked both siblings, giving Sarah the jam jar before leaving to go back home as his friends insisted.

He thought that his day couldn’t get any worse, but then he opened the cottage door to find the place empty and he could all but forget about his injury as he slammed his fist against the wall, crying out in anger. If his wound had started bleeding again, Bucky didn’t care.

~

“What the hell did you think you were doing out there again?!”

Bucky was enraged. He had found her wandering around the forest, as lost and as stubborn as ever.

“Getting as far away from you as possible.” She crossed her arms, her stare upset and unbending.

“And going where exactly!” He shouted, the idea of her spending the night inside a cold cave clawing at his back.

“Anywhere but here!” She yelled back, her face so hot she could feel sweat forming on her hairline in the middle of winter.

“It’s going to snow soon! Do you wanna get sick again?” Bucky held her by the arm, not too roughly as he didn’t really want to cause any real damage.

Neither of them noticed his blood staining her clothes.

She was too infuriated to notice Bucky’s hand wrapped in gauze. She saw nothing but red.

“I don’t care. I just don’t wanna be with you!” She retorted, snatching her arm out of his hold and pushing at his chest.

Though he didn’t move, her touch too weak to do anything to his colossal body, Bucky was hurt.

“Are you doing all of this just because of a little jealousy? Gods, human females are just—” Bucky shook his head in frustration.

“Jealousy? Hah! You think I’m jealous?” She faked a laugh, “this is not even a real marriage! What’s there for me to be jealous over?!” She continued raising her voice, the mention of her jealousy provoking her further.

Her words hurt Bucky more, the real gash now slashed across his heart.

Not even a real marriage.

Despite everything he was doing and trying, she still didn’t consider their marriage a real marriage.

“Well, do you wanna make it real, little human?” Bucky growled lowly, bringing her closer to his heaving chest by her arm, painting the sleeve of her dress in more of his blood.

Her heart thrummed in her ears at the proximity, her breath trembling as she imagined what the orc could do to her if he only wanted to.

“Let go of me,” she whispered as tears clouded her vision, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear how scared she was in her voice.

Bucky complied, hating how nervous she got in the span of a second.

She ran to the kitchen at once, a hand on her chest as she felt her heart trying to escape her ribcage.

What an audacious orc! He was already with someone else and he dared threaten her with taking her to bed?! Damn, she was so stupid to think they could make something good out of this marriage. So stupid.

Bucky took a seat on the bed, face in his metal hand as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He had almost lost her for the millionth time today.

Was it going to be like this forever? What could he do to make it stop? How could he show her that this life with her was all he ever wanted? That he never wanted anybody else?

“You’re not gonna eat with me?” He asked when he saw her slam one bowl of rice on the table.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied curtly, her eyes on the ground and her jaw tense as she waited for him to get off the bed.

Bucky moved away understandably, taking a seat on the dining table instead as she climbed in bed, burying herself under the covers and hiding away from him.

Bucky knew she wasn’t asleep and he needed to talk to her; or at least see her face.

How was he supposed to have an appetite to eat if she wasn’t on the table with him, her beautiful eyes facing him and her shy smile greeting him every time he would moan over the taste of her delicious food?

“Hey.”

She felt the bed dip next to her as it took on Bucky’s body, his warm hand on her shoulder just like last night.

“Let your sweet tooth Sarah give you a kiss,” she spoke before he could say anything.

“This is not about the kiss. And She’s not my Sarah,” Bucky told her, turning her on her back so she could see his sincere face and hopefully believe him, “she’s not my anything. She’s just a good friend.”

She snorted, not buying it as she turned back to face the wall.

Bucky brought her back to him again, “she’s not married. She’s a widow, who is loyal to the memory of her husband, with two kids that are her whole world.” Bucky answered her earlier question, not wanting to hide anything from her.

“That’s none of my business.” She pretended to be uninterested, giving him the cold shoulder for the third time as she turned away, covering her head with the blanket.

Deep inside, she knew she was relieved to know that Sarah wasn’t interested though.

“It is your business,” Bucky sighed, taking the blanket away from her hands, making her look at him again, “it is your business when you think I’m involved with her.”

“You can do whatever you want.” She shrugged, acting indifferent, making Bucky more frustrated.

He released a loud exhale, “you’re what I want, little human.”

She remained silent, not expecting the orc’s patience or this admittance.

He had told her he wanted her before, but that was on their ‘wedding night’ when he had forced her to get completely naked for him.

This one was different. It sounded different and felt different.

“You don’t have to say all these things. We both know how this marriage came to be a thing.” She tried her best to hold her tears in.

“How did it come to be a thing?” Bucky wanted to see inside her head.

“How?” She sat up, her voice loud yet wobbly with emotions, “they gave you an orphaned girl you didn’t get to see or pick beforehand to make up for making you go to war for them, that’s how!” She felt bad for him, but even more for herself.

So she had read the contracts.

“Who told you I didn’t get to see or pick you?” Bucky swallowed.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’ve seen you before, little human. More than once. And I asked for you to be my wife instead of the noble man’s daughter I was originally offered.” Bucky came clean about the truth behind their arranged marriage.

“You what?!” She became even angrier.

He did this? She was here now because of him?!

“I willingly picked you, little human.”

“Why! Why me! Did you ever stop to think that I might not want this? Or you?!” She practically screamed in anger.

Who was he to decide her future for her? Why didn’t he just take the nobleman’s daughter!

“I did. But you were the only human female who has ever caught my attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off you every time I won a glimpse.” Bucky confessed, his light grey skin gaining a tint at the cheeks as he bared his heart to her, “I knew I couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you, little human.”

Won a glimpse

Couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you

No one has ever used such words to describe an act so normal as looking at her. No one had ever wanted or needed her. Why was her heartbeat speeding up? What was that orc doing to her?

“The minute you entered my cottage, you became my one and only. I don’t want anyone but you.” He promised, squeezing her smaller hand in his, “I will live and die loyal to you, little human.”

She knew he was telling the truth because she had heard the stories. Loyalty was very important to orcs and their mates were for life.

She just stared at Bucky, words stolen from her throat by the way he was looking at her.

No one has ever looked at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing they could see. Like she was the only girl in the world. Like she was the only one with any sort of control over this orc’s mind and heart.

“When I suggested gifting Sarah some jam, I was only thinking of doing something nice for a friend.”

She listened with a frown, a little angry again at the mention of the other female’s name.

“If it wasn’t for Sam and Sarah and the boys, I wouldn’t have survived a lot of things. They are my only friends and the only ones I can share nice things with.”

“The only ones?” She pouted, turning her face to the dining table in discontent.

“That’s not what I meant! I just— I’m not used to saying such things, but—” Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing her smaller hand closer, “I was so proud of you being my wife and knowing how to make such delicious things that I wanted the important ones in my life to share it with me…”

Bucky didn’t have to know, but those words were everything to her because when she thought about it, no one has ever been proud to know or have her. No one has ever been proud of her for anything.

But Bucky was, and he wanted to show her off.

When she looked back at the orc, he was staring at the blanket covering her thighs, doubtful to meet her gaze.

Bucky looked… nervous, if you will.

She smiled, eyes tearing up despite herself as she waited for him to look back at her.

When he did, Bucky was instantly smiling back at the sight of her grin. That smile was the whole world for him; it sent him up on cloud nine.

“Have dinner with me?” He asked, his metal thumb wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

She nodded, her smile bigger as she got up and walked to the kitchen to make herself a plate, her heart going a hundred miles per minute as she couldn’t make her smile leave her face.

She wanted to be angrier over the fact that he got to choose and she didn’t, but then again, if she was being honest with herself, she probably could have never dreamt up a husband as good as Bucky was to her if she tried.

She believed that everything happened for a reason and she was too dreamy not to imagine that this whole marriage had to happen exactly the way it did just for her to meet this orc, and maybe, against all odds, have her happy ending with him.

Taking the lid off of the rice pot, she finally saw it: her palm covered in fresh blood.

“Oh gods!” She quickly washed her hand under the water, seeing and feeling no injuries, the realization that it must be Bucky’s blood sent a pang to her chest.

“Bucky?” Tears blurred her vision as she found the orc in the bathroom, trying and failing to remove the wrapping around his right palm with his left one.

She had been forced into this marriage, a union she never agreed to, but as she watched him struggle to tend to his wound, something inside her softened.

How did she not notice that he had come home with a covered up hand?

“Are you okay?!” Bucky asked, troubled to see her crying even when he was the one bleeding above his bathroom sink.

Her heart clenched at the sight; at the care in his cerulean eyes, “what happened to you?”

She sped up to get the first-aid box from him, getting out everything she was going to need as she looked at his bloody palm.

“It’s nothing, sweet thing,” Bucky told her softly, hating the look of anxiety on her precious face even if it was for him; even if it was making him feel all sorts of things, “just a scratch, really. Nothing I can’t handle”.

She tenderly finished unwrapping his hand, gasping as she saw the bleeding gash across it, “this doesn’t look like nothing!” She cried, more tears streaming down her face, “how did you get this?”

“I just hurt myself while working…” Bucky’s metal hand hesitantly pat her shoulder.

“Bucky.” She looked up at him, not believing that that was the only reason because the wound seemed to be loosely stitched and it was obvious that something had happened to make the wound bleed after it had been stitched.

“And I might have punched the wall when I came home and didn’t find you,” Bucky mumbled lowly, not wanting to make her feel bad.

It was just a silly scrape compared to what he had to endure back when he was still fighting wars, really.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into the back of her hand, feeling terrible for all the things she has been putting him through ever since she came here.

“Hey, I’m okay.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped her cheek, his smooth thumb sliding across to wipe her tears.

“No, you’re not.” She shook her head in deep regret, not believing that he was still the one reassuring her in such a state.

“I am, I swear on our marriage.” Bucky wiped under her eyes patiently, caring about nothing but her heart carrying no burdens.

She was speechless because did Bucky just use their marriage to swear? Was it really that important to him that he would swear on it?

She didn’t care that this was an arranged marriage in possibly the most twisted of ways, a woman knew love when she encountered it and that orc’s eyes were showing nothing but pure love.

In the middle of her heart’s longing for a person to care about her, she couldn’t bring herself to step on Bucky’s. Trying to calm her down when he was the one injured and dripping blood? Yeah, that was an orc worth trying, caring and staying for.

“I’m— I’m gonna need to redo the stitches, is that okay?” She sniffled, relaxing herself as she wordlessly promised those concerned blue eyes to give them and this marriage her all.

“Yes.” Bucky smiled when he saw her wipe her tears away and the smile she gave him back made his heart soar.

“It might hurt a little, but just for a short bit, okay?”

Bucky nodded, not believing how delicately she was handling his huge hand with her smaller ones.

He was glad she never had to witness him back then or the actually deadly injuries he had had inflicted on him during wars. He wouldn’t have been able to take that look of fear in her eyes after every fight.

“Who did those sloppy stitches anyway?” She wondered in dissatisfaction with the work and Bucky swallowed hard.

She looked at him knowingly when he remained silent, “it was sweet tooth Sarah, wasn’t it?” She asked with half a smile as she started cautiously taking out the old stitches with the tweezers.

“Yes.” Bucky nodded sheepishly, “but Sam only called for her help because they don’t offer me help in the kingdom’s infirmaries.”

“What?!” Her head snapped up angrily.

They don’t offer him service at the infirmaries?! After all that he had done for this kingdom?

“I’m no longer a soldier of their own so…” Bucky shrugged with a sad smile.

Her expression went from angry to devastated to angry again in less than a second, “this is gonna sting a little.” She warned as she disposed of the old sutures in the bin.

“Don’t be upset, little human.”

She looked up, not knowing what to say or how to apologize to the orc about the terrible treatment of this kingdom’s people, but his smile told her that everything was going to be all right. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Her eyes swayed between his palm and his face as she started disinfecting the wound with the piece of sterilized cotton in her hand.

Bucky hissed and winced, making her stop at once.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so—”

“Ha, fooled ya! It’s not that bad,” Bucky laughed, amused at her reaction, instantly earning himself a slap on his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Hey, you can’t do that to the injured!” Bucky whined playfully.

“Can’t I?” She teased, biting her smile back.

He smiled wider because she could.

Oh, she could do anything to him and he would take it with a smile and thank her for it.

For a heartbeat, the world around Bucky seemed to blur as he focused solely on her, engraving every detail of her smile into his memory. It was a sight he never wanted to forget, a ray of light in the darkness that had clouded his years for so long.

Everything was going to be okay, Bucky thought as he brought her to his chest with his metal arm, praying to the gods she wouldn’t pull away.

“I’m— I’m almost done,” she muttered coyly, trying to make him let her go so she could finish tending to his injury.

But then she felt it: her husband’s tusks were pressing gently on her scalp as Bucky kissed her hair.

Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of surprise and tenderness washing over her as she felt herself wanting to stay longer inside his embrace.

“Thank you, little human,” he whispered lovingly.

As she tilted her head slightly to meet Bucky’s captivating eyes, she found herself lost in the depths of their oceans, catching a vulnerability she hadn't noticed before.

She looked deeper and she realized that beneath his rugged exterior lied a heart capable of great tenderness, a heart that might just beat for her and her alone.

She beamed again as she softly replied, “you’re welcome, Bucky.”

Yeah, they were going to be okay.

Part IV

~

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 4, Unwelcome - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, hints of jealousy, some slight self-deprecation.

Word Count: 1.7k

Previously On...: Now that you and Bucky are officially FWB, you couldn't keep your hands off one another, which obviously meant having fantastic sex in your office.

A/N: And it's time to finally introduce our antagonist! Sort of! Although, I guess you could say the real antagonism is the angst and anxiety we meet along the way. Chapter 11 is coming along very nicely, hence a posting today. I hope you enjoy!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala

"You're both so codependent," Nat said to the two of you one evening a few months later as you all sat gathered around in the common room after dinner. It was a rare occurrence where no one was away on a mission and everyone was Earth-side. The space was crowded, so naturally Bucky had offered you his lap, theoretically in order to open up some seating for everyone else. Aside from the two of you and Nat, there was Wanda and Vision, Steve and Sam, Clint, Thor, Tony and Pepper, Bruce, and Rhodey. Your perfectly imperfect found family. The only one who was missing was young Peter Parker, but it was a school night and Tony tried to make sure the kid had his priorities in order.

"No we're not," you and Bucky said in unison, which made everyone else either laugh or groan. You glanced up at him with a smile and then back to the others. "What can we say? We just really enjoy the benefits of our friendship."

Bucky let out a cough into his hand that sounded a lot like "Be cool, damn."

"How come you never volunteer to sit in my lap?" Steve asked with an exaggerated pout.

"Do you want me to get up, Star-Spangled Man?" you ribbed as you feigned moving out of Bucky's lap. "You can have him all to yourself." Bucky squeezed your waist in warning, holding you down against him. You knew that if you got up now, you'd be exposing everyone to the erection that had been rubbing against your backside all evening. Fortunately, Steve wasn't one to take such a joke very far.

"No, it's fine. I can tell when I've been replaced," he teased, though his smile didn't necessarily reach his eyes. You and Bucky weren't necessarily hiding the fact that you'd started having sex from everyone, but you sure as shit weren't shouting it from the rooftops. There would be far too many 'I told you so's or 'about damn time's for your liking, not to mention everyone asking 'what's the next step?,' so it was something you kept to yourselves. Besides, you both decided that the secret aspect of sneaking around made it so much fucking hotter.

"Good, you're all here," said Tony, breaking through the levity with a serious tone, "since we're all together for once, there's something we need to discuss."

All eyes turned to him. Usually, a serious Tony meant a global-threatening event, but things on the world-saving front had been fairly quiet recently, so you were all curious to see what he had to say.

"As you're no doubt well aware, because most of you aren't complete morons, there are more and more enhanced individuals coming out of the woodwork, and not all of them are identifying as friendlies. I know we've already got a great team here, but Fury thinks we could be better."

"Pretty strong opinion for a man who just sits around watching and talking," Clint offered from his position on the couch next to Nat where he was re-stringing one of his bows.

"Don't disagree, Barton," Tony continued, "but Fury's good graces and government approval are the reason we keep getting to do what we do. He wants us to expand."

"What, open up a West Coast Avengers second location?" Bruce asked with a laugh.

"He wants us to consider taking on some more members," Tony said. "Expand our capabilities. I was able to negotiate it down to one."

"Do we have a say in the matter, or has he already made the choice for us?" Natasha asked warily. Like you, the Avengers were the only real family she'd ever known, and like you, she was highly uncomfortable with the idea of allowing just anyone to join it.

"He's made some... suggestions," Tony said, holding up a stack of thick folders, "but the final decision is ours to make."

"Well, I say we stick with known quantities," Sam offered. "Like Tic-Tac. He proved himself in Berlin."

"Nah, Scott Lang's not a viable option," you interjected thoughtfully. "Maybe as a reserve or something, but not a full-blown member." At Sam's questioning look, you elaborated. "His daughter's young, and he doesn't have custody. He's not going to move across the country and leave her in San Francisco. Not for us, especially after being apart from her while he was in prison."

"Same's going to go for T'Challa," Nat agreed. "His priority is always going to be Wakanda, he won't give that up, nor should we expect him to."

"We could always invite my brother Loki to join us," said Thor with a grin. "He's quite skilled," he paused for a moment to think his statement through. "Though he is completely untrustworthy and could very well try to murder us all, so perhaps not. But what a humorous situation that would have made!" The eye rolls from around the room proved that, no, it would not have made a humorous situation at all.

"I wish Pietro were still here; he would be magnificent. A perfect addition," Wanda said wistfully, and you reached over to squeeze her hand. She'd done so much healing since her brother had died in the crossfire of the battle with Ultron, but you couldn't imagine the lingering pain losing a twin must keep her in. She gave you a grateful look as she returned your squeeze.

"Well, who else do we know that we'd actually trust enough to ask?" Rhodey posited. The ensuing silence spoke volumes.

"Natty, what about your sister?" you suggested. "You think Yelena would be interested? It wouldn't suck to have another trained Widow on the team. Plus, she makes me laugh, which, you know, absolutely crucial Avenger requirement."

Nat looked thoughtful. "I don't know if it would be her thing, but I could reach out; wouldn't hurt to ask. But I wouldn't get our hopes up; she's pretty dedicated to helping all the former Widows right now."

"Swell," said Tony with an eye roll, making a note on a piece of paper inside his folder. "That's one, maybe. But probably not."

"Well, what options did Fury send over?" Rhodey asked him.

Tony began handing out folders to everyone. Each page contained a brief bio of an enhanced individual Fury had vetted and thought might make a good addition to the team. He handed you a folder, then made to hand another to Bucky.

"I'll share with Pocket," he said.

"Of course you will," Tony said with a shake of his head. "You sharing your balls with her, too, Barnes?" You stuck your tongue out at him. "Nice, Pocket. The pinnacle of maturity," Tony muttered as he moved on toward Bruce.

"Not just your balls," you whispered into Bucky's ear, giving his cock a discreet squeeze. He did his best not to moan out loud at your touch.

"You are going to pay for that," he whispered, causing you to laugh.

"Why don't we take a look at these profiles?" Steve interjected with a cough, waving a folder in the air. Everyone began leafing through their packets. The room was silent, save for the shuffling of paper.

"Wait, here's someone we should definitely consider," Bucky said after a long moment, freezing everyone's attention. He held up a sheet of paper with a picture stapled to it.

You leaned over to get a better look and immediately felt an odd sensation deep inside as your eyes focused on the woman in question: Jade Carthage, code-named 'Vixen'. She had long black hair cascading down her back and vibrant emerald green eyes that, in your opinion, looked cold and calculating. She was absolutely stunning.

"Let's see..." you began reading out loud, "she's the only survivor of a secret Hydra super soldier facility. Looks like they gave her a relatively successful version of the serum, but she single-handedly destroyed their base before it could be replicated and defected to S.H.I.E.L.D. Damn; that's really impressive. Enhanced strength, regenerative capabilities, trained in various forms of martial arts..." While reading about her powers and skills, you couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy over your own lack of superhero abilities. It was a gentle though bitter reminder that, though you may be able to play in the Avengers' world, you'd never really be one of them. 

"She seems..." Bucky said, almost reverently, letting the rest of his thought hang in the air. "We should definitely meet her." You weren't sure why, but the tone of his voice left your stomach feeling sour.

"Well, she certainly seems interesting," Tony said, perusing the profile, "but I'm not sure she'd be a good fit for the team; I'm not seeing anything unique she can bring us that we don't already have on tap, and I'd want to know why she was the base's sole survivor. What happened to the rest of the subjects? We'll have to look into her more closely before we consider inviting her."

"I think it would be a mistake not to at least meet her," Bucky said, his gaze still locked on Jade's picture. "You can't just walk out of a Hydra base, especially when they value you as an asset. She's got to be good at what she does."

The others seemed to agree with Bucky's assessment after reviewing Jade's sheet. The general consensus seemed to be in favor of inviting Jade in for a more in-depth interview and meet and greet before making further decisions. You weren't sure how you felt about it, but you kept your discomfort to yourself. After all, she could definitely be an asset to the team if they chose to make her an offer, and if she chose to accept, of course. Those were two big ifs that might amount to nothing.And really, when it came down to it, your opinion didn't matter. You weren't actually an Avenger. You were just... Avenger-adjacent. Shaking your head, you attempted to disperse the negative thought. It was a term you'd used to refer to yourself when you were feeling less than your friends, when you were being hard on yourself. You hadn't used it in a while, and you weren't about to let yourself spiral down the familiar path of self-loathing... at least, not just yet.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[booksandabeer]

Ramblings on Fandom: Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, Delusional Shippers, and Alleged Misogyny

So with the release of Season 2 of What If…? emotions are once again running high, the outrage is outraging, and people are up in arms about the whole Captain Carter situation. While I do think that some reactions are a little overblown, even needlessly aggressive in tone to the unfortunate detriment of their otherwise convincing arguments, I share the confusion and frustration about the sudden centering of a long-dead & never excessively popular character, the sidelining of the Steve-Bucky friendship, and the as-inexplicable-as-it-is-total exclusion of Sam Wilson as Captain America. However, I’m not here to talk about the show because (1) I haven’t watched this season and have no plans to (why waste time torturing myself with something I know I’ll hate?) and (2) other people have already written dozens of metas about it, so what could I possibly add at this point.

What I do want need to talk about (lest I explode) is something that has irritated me for a long time and that is now happening again: Every time someone even mildly criticizes Peggy Carter, expresses doubts about her suitability as a heroine, or even just questions her disproportionate importance to the franchise post-EG, inevitably a certain section of fans will come out of the woodwork to immediately throw around accusations of misogyny and yell about how we’re all just a bunch of delusional Stuckies who are mad that she got "in the way" of our ship. Sigh.

This is gonna be a long one, so I’ll put it under a cut. Rant incoming. You've been warned. If you don't want to read, simply keep scrolling.

First of all, let me state very clearly that I’m not debating the existence of misogyny and sexism in fandom spaces—or in the media from which these fandoms originate. At all. It exists, it’s a thing, I’m not denying that. Which is exactly why it frustrates me endlessly to see these accusations thrown around as a gotcha! argument to shut down any and all critical debate around a female character. All it does in the end is escalate rhetoric and radicalize attitudes.  

In the case of Peggy Carter, specifically her treatment by Stucky shippers, I’ve always found 'misogyny as a motive' to be a largely unsubstantiated accusation.¹ Now, I neither presume nor do I want to speak for the entirety of Stuckynation, so I will not claim that there aren't corners of the fandom where people discuss her in ways that I find off-putting and deeply unserious, but I will say this: If you genuinely believe that disliking one (1) fictional female character equals “hating all women” and wanting to suppress and marginalize their presence in fiction and real life alike—then I think we need to take that word away from you until you’ve learned its true meaning.

You might also want to ask yourself how exactly reducing a female character to a mute trophy wife or a heroine who has to act out her love interest’s recycled storylines helps your feminist fight.

As for the “getting in the way of your ship” part of the argument. Very simply put: No character can get in the way of something if there never ever was “a way” to that something to begin with. “Being mad” implies that there was a reasonable expectation that wasn’t met, a substantive hope that was crushed. Now, I’ve said this before and I’ll gladly say it again a million more times: No Stucky shipper in their right mind ever truly thought that there was even the slightest chance that Marvel Studios owned by the Walt Disney Company would allow Steve “Captain America” Rogers and Bucky “Winter Soldier” Barnes to be canonized as an explicitly romantic pairing in their billion dollar franchise. Be serious. That was never in the cards. I wish we all lived in a world where it was, but we don’t, and it wasn’t. The best we could ever hope for was for Steve and Bucky to get a good, satisfying, in-character ending. And if, in Steve’s case, that would’ve included hints (or more) about a possible rekindling of his, uh, aborted romance with Sharon—then so be it. But we never got any of that. The characters never got any of that. Instead they sent Steve into 1950s suburban hell, literally trapped him behind a white picket fence, and condemned him to a life of passivity and lies, all so he could be married to a woman he barely knew a long time ago in a completely different world; who built and ran a top-to-bottom Hydra-infested organization, but apparently never noticed that there was anything wrong with her life's work. For decades. Great. As for Bucky—well, we’ve all seen the devastatingly grim-faced, utterly lonely, and deeply sad version of him that was presented to us in TFATWS. Happy endings all around, I guess.

So. Am I mad that Steve didn’t get to ride into the rainbow-colored sunset with Bucky at the end of EG? No. Because that was never going to happen anyway. Would I have been mad had he ended up with Sharon or another female character in the 21st century? Also no. Granted, I wouldn’t have been ecstatic about it, but mad? No. But am I mad that Steve ended up with this specific female character under these specific circumstances as presented in canon? Fuck yeah, I am.

The thing is: I personally believe Steve and Peggy to be fundamentally incompatible when it comes to the way they view the world and their respective places in it; their morals and values; their capacity for compassion and empathy; their ability and willingness to compartmentalize, compromise, and collaborate with people and institutions whose ethics and/or politics do not align with their own. I have a real hard time believing that a relationship between these two (or worse, a hasty marriage) could be either happy or long-lasting.

I don’t believe Peggy to be inherently evil, I don’t hate her, I simply think she operates within a different moral framework than Steve (and even genuinely believes it to be a righteous one).² Your mileage may vary, but I personally happen to find that framework reprehensible, even indecent, and ultimately dangerous. After all, over the course of the 20th century, we have seen exactly where that kind of “the ends justify the means” brand of pragmatism leads—over and over again. Not to mention that the people who use this line of argument to defend characters like Peggy (or real-life politicians for that matter) never seem to want to look too closely at who gets to define what "the ends" are in the first place and who decides when they've finally been met.

(Never. The answer is never.)

And to be clear, there is absolutely nothing wrong with depicting, and even centering a narrative around a morally (dark)gray character—oftentimes it’s actually the more interesting option—but you cannot at the same time claim that they are purely good and should be only admired as such when their actions literally tell an entirely different story.

So, no. I will not accept Peggy Carter as the shining aspirational heroine that the MCU so badly wants to sell her to me as—while simultaneously continuing to reveal things that paint an increasingly darker picture of her character. And I will certainly not celebrate seeing one of my favorite characters of all time—whose defining trait was that he couldn't ignore "a situation pointed south"; who used to fight for the little guy and against the establishment; who once said about the very organization that Peggy Carter helped build that it was so corrupt, it all needed to go—rendered morally inert for some hollow happy ending that may as well be a conservative’s wet dream full of false nostalgia for an America that never really existed. I cannot find it in me to be anything less but mad about that.

But that does not make me a misogynist. It does not make me a delusional shipper. It makes me someone who looks at what the MCU has been telling me about Peggy Carter for years now—over and over again—and takes it at its own word.

--------

¹ If you’ve actually read a a fair number of Stucky(!) fanfics you will have noticed that the reverence afforded to and "page time" devoted to her character and her relationship with Steve is somewhat disproportionate to anything that's backed up by canon—well, up until EG, where she was suddenly reanimated as The Great Love of Steve’s Life—and in my experience, it's highly unusual for any fandom to put so much (mostly) positive attention on another character, let alone a potential love interest that is not part of the endgame ship.

² I also want to emphasize that if you love Peggy and she's your fave: good for you! I genuinely have no beef with you. People can agree to disagree. All I ask for is that we maybe stop willfully ignoring the less savory aspects of her character. You don't need to pretend she's perfect to justify your affection for her. I LOVE Steve, and yet I have no problem conceding that he is FAR from perfect.

[abarbaricyalp]

For the Sambucky romance asks, I'd love to see your take on, "🚪 Roommates"!

Roommates is one of my favorite tropes for them! 😌 Keep an eye out for extra scenes attached to this on AO3 soon 👀

Bucky had to assume Sam was always wondering what he'd done to get stuck with a shitty roommate situation. He knew Sam had other friends on the team and that no one wanted to share a hotel room with the major leaguer who'd been sent back down to the organization’s minor league team for injury recovery. Baseball players were superstitious. Bucky's impending firing was as good as contagious to them. With such a road-game heavy line-up, he and Sam had spent more than enough time for Sam to catch whatever was tailing Bucky.

Still, he liked to think he'd made it up to Sam a few dozen times over by now, two months into the season. 

He let Sam take his left arm from his chest, tucking his right under his head as he turned a little and watched Sam trace the scars from his latest rounds of surgery. One long, thin one up his forearm, the deeper circular one around his elbow, the thin one up his bicep, and then the circle around his shoulder. Like an artist had sketched out the bare-bones beginning of a human body on his. Then a cruel woodworker had gone in and twisted all of his inner workings until he was almost a puppet back on its strings again.

But with Sam's warm hands on him, he didn't much care about the surgeries or their impossible recoveries. "You thinkin' 'bout anything specific?" he asked.

"I can feel my heartbeat in the hickey you put on my throat," Sam answered, then frowned and ticked his head to the side a little. "That's not what I meant to say. That's just what I was actually thinking in the moment."

Bucky laughed, freed his hand, and touched one of the barely there bruises. Mostly just irritation marks on Sam's skin. "So what were you really thinkin’ about?"

Sam shrugged. "The game mostly. The guys out at dinner right now. Sitting here doing this while we waited for appetizers." His fingers kept tracing up and down the scar on Bucky's forearm.

During games, Bucky wore a compression sleeve. It was about impossible to hide from everyone else in the locker room, but he usually kept the evidence of his surgeries out of everyone's eyesight otherwise. His compression sleeve during the games, a jacket at all other times. He couldn’t bear people staring, or the non-stop game coverage about his injury. The less they saw, they less they reacted.

Sam had been the first one to really see all of the scars, on virtue of them practically living together now. Sam was something of a hot-shot, as far as Bucky was concerned. Young and ready to prove himself without a lot of high level gameplay behind him. He'd played one year of college ball, then tried for a walk-on tryout with their major league affiliation. By some miracle, someone took notice of him and stuck him on the minor league team to grow a little. He'd only been around for a season and a half--and Bucky hadn't been around for a bit of it thanks to his surgery--but he was still hungry and eager.

Bucky had expected some kind of revulsion from the kid. Bucky would've been freaked out at his age. Marks like these usually spelled the end of the road for pitchers like Bucky. Superstitions. But Sam had just scoffed a little and told Bucky to use Vitamin E oil instead of just letting them get dried out. Then again, Sam wasn't a pitcher, so there was that at least.

Bucky liked laying in bed with Sam. He was warm and real and he always smelled good, even after a game when Bucky hadn't let him back into the shower yet. He leaned over to press his nose against Sam's temple and heard Sam snicker and then sigh below him.

"You're so weird, Barnes," he said softly. He finished trailing his fingers up Bucky's arm, across his shoulder, and into his hair. He guided Bucky back against the bed and turned over him, settling his weight against Bucky's body as he buried his face in Bucky's neck. "Why do I even put up with you?"

"I dunno," Bucky said. "'Cause you think sleepin' with me'll get you a fast track to the majors?" he suggested sarcastically.

Sam hummed an 'mhm' against the soft skin of the bottom of his jaw.

"'Cause you got the shit travel buddy assignment and can't argue about it?" Bucky added as Sam started to work a bruise to the surface of Bucky's skin.

Sam nodded and pressed his tongue against the non-mark before moving back to his neck so he could trace a dried line of sweat as it snaked from the back of Bucky's ear to his shoulder.

"'Cause I'm super hot and a really good lay?" he finished.

Sam groaned exaggeratedly and hugged his arms around Bucky's waist, going boneless and drawing a breathless groan from Bucky at the sudden extra weight. "That's probably a lot of it," he admitted. "Everything else started it, but that one keeps you around," he admitted. Bucky could feel Sam's grin against his skin and it was the best feeling in the world.

Bucky gently brushed his fingers over the short crop of Sam's hair idly and let Sam trace nonsense patterns over his ribs. "You think about holding my hand at dinner?" he eventually couldn't help but tease.

"Nope," Sam lied against his shoulder. "The moment passed."

Bucky laughed quietly and pulled Sam's hand away from his chest when he got too close to his nipples and could really get to be a tease. He twined their fingers together and examined their hands quite seriously in the dim light of the hotel lamps. The first serendipitous thing about this roommate assignment was that they both preferred the soft light of lamps to the overhead light. Should've known it was fate, Bucky figured. Superstitions and all that.

Sam shifted around so he was laying beside Bucky again, looking up at their hands too. "We should really head out to dinner," he said as he brushed his thumb over the back of Bucky's hand.

"Yeah," Bucky agreed. "I'm s'posed to be makin' friends."

"Ha," Sam huffed. Turned his face against Bucky's so now it was his nose pressed to Bucky's cheek. "What happened to 'I'm only gonna be here long enough to recover. I don't needa know anyone's names,'" he teased in a rough approximation of Bucky's surly pout.

"Yeah, well, it's not so bad down here," he admitted, turning so their noses were pressed together now. "Just takes one good roommate to change my mind, I guess."

Sam rolled his eyes. It was a move that Bucky largely missed being so close to each other like this, features already a blur. "We should shower before we go to dinner."

"We should absolutely shower," Bucky agreed. He brought his hand up to cup Sam's face, kissed him deeply until Sam opened up beneath him and went pliant.

Dinner was the last thing on his mind.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Carter Academy for Omega Excellence" Pt5

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: age gap, boarding school au, a/b/o, dub-con/non-con, spanking, feminization, dumbification, sexism, misogyny, prostate milking, discipline, D/s elements, hurt/comfort, mentions of past self-harm, predatory behavior, teacher/student, bathroom use control

Summary: Bucky's parents ship him off to Steve's reform school to help him get straightened out into a "proper young omega."

Part 5 - In Science-Based Practice, cont'd

(Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter! Masterlist)

Handing the Barnes kid off to Sharon is … more difficult than it should be. And it bothers Steve once he’s alone in his office again and can really think about it. How easily he’s crossed the line with this boy already. 

It’s not the touching or the dominating. That alone is nothing out of the ordinary, practically par for the course when dealing with a troubled new student. But as soon as Bucky’s gone, his scent still lingering in the room, Steve is feeling guilty for how personal he’d made it. It’s not even his behavior so much as it is his thoughts. Steve is affectionate with many of his omega charges, especially the more high needs boys, but it’s what was going on in his head that was so inappropriate. 

He’d been picturing Bucky in situations—namely situations with him. He can’t lie to himself that he hadn’t been imagining the heated aftermath of a well-deserved spanking: Bucky bare-assed and red faced, crying, crawling, mewling for permission to warm Steve’s cock. Or the boy in his bed: in the morning after a long night spent breeding him up, that sweet, soft body underneath Steve, sleepy and pliant, getting fucked lazily into the sheets …

He spends a moment at the door after he’s closed it behind Sharon and Bucky. That entire wall is dark woodwork, bookcases surrounding the elaborately carved doorway. He leans his weight through his arms and stares at the floor, taking in a few deep breaths and trying to convince himself that all of this has just been a reaction of circumstance. Surely, he thinks, it must have more to do with the divorce, with his heavy workload and his dealings with Peggy and the lawyers. It must have to do with all the stress; brought on by the restructuring of Carter Academy, by nights spent sleeping on his office couch, and by the uncertain future of a house that he’s currently persona non grata in. It’s all of that, plus his ever growing need to get laid that’s made him so sensitive to being around an omega, not anything particularly special about Bucky.

Steve pushes away from the door and turns around. His eyes fall on the discarded set of underwear on the floor in front of his desk. He tenses, belly swirling hard at the memory of that sweet little whimper Bucky had made when he’d lost control and wet himself. Fuck, it’d been amazing. Steve had almost popped a knot right then and there, watching the way the boy’s eyes had gotten all big and watery and confused, his cheeks pinked up so nicely, not fully understanding what his body had just done …

Nostrils flaring, Steve stalks over to where the underwear lie on the carpet and snatches them up, intending to chuck them straight into the bin. But … something stays his hand. He winds up walking around the desk with them, sitting down in his chair and holding them in his lap, staring at the tiny wet patch of release that Bucky left behind in the cup of the jock. It’s wet like urine but clear and sweet-smelling like slick, and Steve is struck by the urge to bury his face in it.

Even from this distance, the scent is noticeable; pungent and rich, an obscene perfume that Steve instinctively wants to rub on himself. It calls to all of his baser urges, making his skin feel hot and his dick feel heavy. Hesitatingly, because he knows that he shouldn’t, Steve lifts the underwear closer to his face. Halfway there and already the scent is enough to make his mouth water, his throat aching from a repressed growl. There’s something buried in that scent that Steve wants to tease out, something earthy and floral that’s uniquely Bucky, that promises so much more of what the omega has to offer. Steve groans quietly at the thought of tasting it. When was the last time a student released for him so easily? Bucky had responded to him so naturally …

He growls and shoves the soiled underwear away, pushing them halfway across the desk. It’s nothing, he thinks. He’s just pent up, stressed. He just needs to get laid. Maybe he’ll go into the city next weekend, rent a room and find some company. He’s never had much trouble chatting up the nearest person at a hotel bar, or attracting a willing partner to his bed. Omegas flock to him and have ever since he took control of his dominance in his late twenties.

Steve’s never been unfaithful to Peggy, and even now with the divorce, he’s been waiting until everything is finalized, not wanting to tarnish the vows that he’d meant so earnestly when he’d said them fourteen years ago. But an alpha his age has needs, and he’s been suppressing them for years. Maybe it’s time to cut himself some slack, call up a pairing agency and buy a companion for an hour or two. Get his mind off of this kid.

He’s dealt with thousands of students over the years, seen plenty of fresh-faced omegas pass through the school’s halls. And sure, sometimes there’ll be one or two that stick out in a given year; an especially defiant boy or a sweetly virginal girl, with beautiful faces, ripe young bodies, and a soul-deep yearning to be handled, but there’s never been one that especially stood out to him like this. Not like this. 

Steve groans and cards his hands through his hair in frustration. He’d felt more in-tune with himself as an alpha during that short time with Bucky in his office than he has in a long time. He’d enjoyed himself with Bucky, had indulged himself in provoking the boy’s reactions, and even crossed a few lines of propriety if he was being honest with himself. It plagues his mind for a while, as he leans back in the desk chair and frowns, remembering all of the various ways he’d let himself be a little too intimate with the boy. 

Bucky’s such a pretty young omega, and he’d smelled so good. Watching his defiance warring with his natural submissive urges had been delightful, every little twitch of insolence and natural, mewling submission going straight to Steve’s cock. There’s just something about him. He’s uncommonly beautiful, with his dark hair and soft chin and stormy blue eyes, but it’s his behavior that has Steve enthralled. 

All that hurt and neediness he’s trying so hard to hide, not only from others but from himself as well. A hastily cobbled-together shield of promiscuity and callousness. It’s pathetically see-through, terribly desperate, and it gets Steve’s cock harder than anything he’s dealt with recently. Right from the very first, bratty word that emanated from Bucky’s mouth, up until that last, puny whimper. Steve hasn’t been completely flaccid since the boy started mulishly snarfing scones off the tea tray in front of his parents.

“Christ.” He pushes out from the desk when he feels his pants growing uncomfortably tight again. His office has a private bathroom, and he abruptly decides to make use of it. He won’t get any work done if he just stays sitting here, stewing in his own pheromones. 

He stomps over there and shuts himself into the tiny water closet, leans against the door and jerks himself off ruthlessly, efficiently, coming into the toilet bowl with gritted teeth and a laboured grunt, his hand gripped viciously over the base of his shaft to prevent an inconvenient knotting. It’s unsatisfactory because he’s still denying his body what it really wants, but it’s enough to release most if not all of the tension for the moment. 

Not having been given their fair due, his balls still do kind of throb and ache in complaint as he tucks himself back into his slacks. But on the positive side, he was already so worked up when he started jerking it that he’s able to honestly say that he didn’t really think of Bucky while he was at it. He didn’t really think of anything besides the feeling of his own hand on his dick.

Sighing, he washes his hands and goes back out, settling in at his desk to submit the form he’s filled out on Bucky’s heats and to compose a preliminary assessment. Already, he thinks he’s got a good handle on where a lot of the boy’s issues stem from. He opens a new file for student assessment and types in a few points that he’ll return to elaborate on later, once he’s had more interaction with the boy:

“Boyfriend” + brief, insufficient pairing aged 14 — unfulfilled?: Abandonment complex, betrayal complex, trust issues.

Parental situation: lacking authoritative father figure, preoccupied beta mother, dominant unrelated male beta in the household. No healthy A-o relationship modeling.

Values: liberal school system, beta peers, common social expectations (not being a burden, not displaying strong needs, etc.) Emotional repression, mock-dominant behavior, cutting.

Review: history of suppressant use, medical exam

It’s a shorthand that he’s typed out for many other students, reflecting a devolving behavioral pattern that Steve could recognize in his sleep at this point. Just another classic example of what you get when you try to ideologize a pubertal omega out of their biological needs, urges and instincts: catastrophe. 

He hopes that Sharon will be a good fit for the boy. She’s one of the more laid back Handlers, and Steve is hoping she’ll be able to ease Bucky into his new lifestyle here at the school. If not, then more severe dominance will be needed, and Steve might have to take a more hands-on approach. 

He closes out the documentation on Bucky and navigates to his email, shooting off a message to the school nurse informing her that he needs an exam scheduled for a new student. Bucky being on suppressants for two years shouldn’t make Steve as uncomfortable as it does. There are omegas out there who take that poison for decades or more, after all. As long as Bucky stays off it from here on out, there should be minimal chance of long-term harm. Irrational as it is, Steve still knows he’ll feel better once he’s seen the results of a full medical workup on the boy. He marks the appointment request as 📨*Stat: urgent priority.

There’s a message from Schuyler & Banks—Peggy’s divorce lawyers—and rather than ignoring it like he wants to, Steve forces himself to open it and deal with whatever drama they’re lobbing his way now. The email informs him that his soon-to-be ex-wife is requesting his signature to agree to listing the house. Steve growls at the screen and immediately starts typing out a response that uses a lot of big words and essentially amounts to another adamant No.

This may be the biggest thing he and Peggy have fought over since the separation started. They bought the Pendergast Street house nearly ten years ago, with full intentions of growing old and grey there together. It’s a two hundred year old cottage, practically picturesque with its wattle and stone exterior, thatched straw roof, and one of the village’s canals running directly behind the back garden. It’s small and cramped and thoroughly lived-in, and it’s the place where Steve thought he’d spend the rest of his life with the person he loved. It kills him that Peggy wants to sell it. 

She doesn’t need the money, Steve thinks angrily. And he’s already offered her fair market value for it. Pegs is just being vindictive and trying to deny him the ability to keep the place and the memories it holds, bitter about Steve wanting to one day maybe have a family there with someone else. He emails his refusal on the matter and cc’s his own attourney, pissed off at Peggy all over again, and moves on to dealing with his actual work-related matters.

There’s an email from P. Potts, informing him that Stark will be flying in for the upcoming parents’ weekend, and requesting coordination on a suitable landing site for the man’s personal helicopter. Steve rolls his eyes and forwards the email to his secretary to sort out. If the Stark foundation didn’t give a hefty endowment to the academy each year, Steve wouldn’t put up with the man’s antics. But it does, so he does.

Peter Parker is an intelligent and precocious student who attends Carter Academy at Tony’s behest. The two are of no relation, as Steve had initially assumed. Rather, Parker is Stark’s ward and attends through a STEM scholarship program. The Stark foundation sponsors several such scholarship slots each year, of course; but Tony has maintained a keen eye on the boy’s education since he started there, and Steve has gradually become aware that the billionaire’s interest is … more than strictly philanthropic. 

It’s not unheard of for an older alpha to care for an omega that way, even in this day and age. Steve himself has considered the prospect before. Taking on an omega youth as a dependent partner wouldn’t be frowned upon, and especially not in the circles he himself travels in. It’s more his role as headmaster that might act as an impediment to propriety, and Steve has always been careful to avoid worrying the parents, alumni, and other various benefactors of the school that he may have any conflicts of interest with respect to their sons. 

Some of the most posh and exclusive families in Britain and Continental Europe send their children to Carter Academy, and they certainly aren’t dropping sixty grand a semester so that their children can be matched up with some stodgy academic. Steve may be educated and financially stable, but he still isn’t the sort of match that most of Carter Academy’s parents are looking to fix their sons up with. He has no vast fortune, no estate, no title, and—perhaps the biggest offense of all—he’s American. 

With a student body made up of nothing but omegas in their prime breeding years, it’s fair to say that Steve is—and always has been—surrounded by prospects for temptation each and every day. He’d honestly thought himself rather numb to it at this point, able to separate work from pleasure, students from everyone else. All those years married to Peggy and he simply had to be that way, if he wanted his marriage to work. 

But now he’s getting divorced. That changes things. With the Barnes boy, he’s finding the temptation to take on an omega mate newly rekindled. And Bucky would be so easy to mold and shape the way he wants. Steve could help him, he could care for him. Bucky’s young and healthy, he could give Steve pups, and his fiery temperament would only make the act of subduing him that much sweeter.

Steve’s eyes slide back over to the underwear on his desk, to the wet patch of release that Bucky’s body had given up so readily for him. Steve’s not sure when the last time was he came across an omega to whom he felt so naturally inclined. The draw of the boy’s scent alone is … considerable. 

Unable to get it out of his mind, he opens a new email and begins to compose a short letter to Tony. Maybe it’s time the two of them have a bit of a sit down chat. They can have drinks, catch up, review next year's endowments from the Stark Foundation, and perhaps even veer into discussing more personal topics … such as the intricacies of responsibly grooming impressionable young omegas.

Bucky doesn’t see Steve again for the rest of that day, and he’s both relieved and disappointed. 

Relieved, because he definitely needed a break from that high pressure situation. Naked or no, he certainly couldn’t have sustained much more interaction at that level of intensity. He’s not sure if he would’ve gone to his knees and face planted in Steve’s crotch first, or thrown a tantrum and tried to punch the guy square in the nuts, but he’s smart enough to know that either choice would’ve been a disaster. 

Disappointed, because he’s left feeling utterly bereft once all of that rich, heady stimulation is removed. 

It’s one of those times where he doesn’t realize that he likes something until he’s had it taken away. Instantly, he misses being in Steve’s presence, the realization peeling back as he’s led about by Sharon in a sort of informal orientation session. He wonders why Steve chose her to be his handler, because she’s not at all similar to the overbearing Headmaster.

Sharon seems really laid back and chill. Bucky doesn’t feel on edge or self-conscious around her, and she doesn’t seem to be overly concerned with his behavior in any outward way, either. Sure, she keeps her eye on him, she explains the rules, but the vibe Bucky gets from her is more like a slightly disinterested older sister who’s showing him the ropes, rather than someone who’s going to be exercising any kind of severe authority over him. It’s not that bad, or at least not like what Bucky was picturing it would be like. Sharon’s okay, he decides. Sharon he can live with.

But, if Steve truly thinks that Bucky needs so much structure and discipline or whatever, then Bucky can’t fathom why he’s been paired with Sharon. She’s certainly a poor substitute for the utterly dominating, older alpha male that Bucky encountered earlier, and he winds up distracted and reimagining the things Steve had said and done to him in the office, daydreaming about it while Sharon shows him the library, explains school rules, tells him she’s a low-protocol Handler, etc., etc. 

Even the things that’d made him so mad and humiliated at the time; now they elicit different feelings. Bucky’s body thrums hot and sensitive when he remembers the low rumble of Steve’s Voice, the woodsy smell of his cologne over top of his natural scent, the firmness of his thigh muscle against Bucky’s face, how big and rough his hand had looked when he’d cupped Bucky in between his legs and purred threats at him like another kind of oral sex … how he’d called him things, called him a “good girl” …

… Ohh, he thinks, as he’s walking along with Sharon. Maybe padded underwear and loose dresses aren’t the worst thing he could be wearing. They definitely do a lot to hide … reactions that would otherwise be quite noticeable in slacks. People joke about alpha teenagers getting unfortunate stiffies, but the thing about having an omega-sized prick is that there’s really no pushing it down or tucking it this way or that. Nothing between Bucky’s legs is ever gonna make it up to the helpful elastic of a waistband when he’s inconveniently aroused. Nope, he just gets a stiff length that pokes straight out from his body and can’t be concealed with anything short of a book in his lap. 

So the uniform winds up having a bit of a silver lining. And Bucky does start to feel less ridiculous the longer he goes around in the outfit. It’s not as though the thing is all frilly and girly or anything like that. In fact if it’s guilty of anything, it's the cardinal sin of frumpiness committed by all private school uniforms. Nobody bats an eye at him as he goes about the campus with Sharon, which helps. 

And of course Bucky’s aware that omegas dressed like this in the past, he’s just not used to it. The only other place he’s ever seen omega boys in skirts is in history textbooks or period dramas. It does help to see all the other first year students going about wearing the same thing as him and acting like it’s no big deal, and with the school being such an old, castley-type setting, it almost seems appropriate.

Plus, the boner-concealment thing. That’s good.

When Sharon asks him how he liked meeting “Headmaster Rogers,” Bucky’s left to bumble out a flustered reply that mostly consists of ‘ums’, and ‘erms’, and ‘fines’. Sharon shoots him a smirk like she knows what the problem is, and when Bucky promptly points to something random to change the subject, she indulges him.

It’s a good thing he got out of Steve’s office when he did, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t think he could’ve taken much more of the alpha’s domineering presence without doing something he’d come to regret. And as much as he’d maybesortakinda liked the things that Steve made him feel, he still feels like he’s run an emotional half-marathon in the span of little more than the hour he actually spent with the man. It’s good to have breathing room, time to think, to process … whatever the hell that’d been.

He’s never felt like how he felt in Steve’s office, and it’s embarrassing because he’s pretty sure that Steve: A) knows this, and B) wasn’t nearly so affected himself. Steve had kept his cool perfectly, had seemed more amused by Bucky’s reactions than anything else. He probably knows exactly how muzzy-headed Bucky was feeling by the end of it all, how hot and tight his belly was, how much his hole was pulsing and leaking into his underwear. Hell, Steve had as good as told him that he could tell, just by sight and smell alone. 

‘You don’t have to deny it, honey. I already know.’

Ugh. God. It’s so cringeworthy. Bucky’s body had betrayed him in about a half dozen ways, back in Steve’s office, and he feels frustrated that he didn’t act with more composure. He wants a redo of the whole, horrible encounter. One where he doesn’t act just like the desperate, mewling loser that Steve already thinks he is.

Sharon takes him to settle into his bedroom that evening, and it’s a typical dorm room setup: bed, bedside table, dresser, desk, chair. There’s a small wardrobe that’s stuffed to the brim with all sorts of extra blankets and pillows—for nesting, Sharon informs him. Bucky’s never been one to indulge in the habit, but maybe it could be nice to try it here. Maybe it might feel cozy. There are a lot of really nice things inside the wardrobe, to which he feels instinctively drawn when he drags his fingers over their soft and poofy textures. He actually starts to get mildly enthused: about the idea of nesting, and about the fact that he’s getting his own private room rather than having to share a communal dorm room with a dozen other boys like he’d been imagining … 

Until he spots the cameras that are up high in two of the bedroom’s corners, their little red lights blinking ominously down at him. Bucky stares up at them, calculating. The way they’re positioned …

Shit.

They cover every square inch of the room. Bucky’s heart sinks with dismay as he realizes what this means. 

“Oh, yeah,” Sharon says when she sees him looking. “We call those the nanny cams.” 

Bucky fights back a cringe. He hears Steve’s “no masturbation allowed” speech playing on a horrible loop in his mind as Sharon delivers a practiced spiel about how “privacy is not something students are entitled to” at Carter Academy, and that he’ll be monitored “pretty much everywhere” he goes.

Shit-fuck-shit and goddammit.

If Sharon notices his internal freak out, she doesn’t say anything. She just supervises from the doorway while Bucky changes for bed, ensuring that he puts on a fresh pair of the ridiculous double-underwear and reminding him of the no masturbation rule. It’s humiliating, and Bucky almost snaps something nasty at her, but by that point he’s so fucking tired from the overwhelming day he’s had that he merely grunts out an unhappy, “Got it.”

He briefly considers asking her if she’ll “milk” him like Steve said he could, but his embarrassment gets the better of him and he just turns to lie facing the wall instead, pulling the blankets up to his chin and ignoring Sharon as she turns the lights off and bids him goodnight from the doorway. There is no door for her to close.

Bucky sleeps surprisingly well, though his dreams are intense and filled with a certain Alpha Headmaster. He wakes the next day to the unpleasant combination of a morning erection, and Sharon rapping her knuckles on his bedside table.

“Morning! Time to get up, get dressed. Breakfast in ten minutes!”

She escorts him around campus like the world’s most overpaid babysitter, first to the dining hall for breakfast and then to class after that. She seems to understand that Bucky isn’t at all happy to be there, so she doesn’t get overly bossy with him or try to force much conversation. Bucky begrudgingly appreciates her for it, and he starts to think that maybe it won’t be so bad here with her as his Handler. Maybe Steve knew what he was doing, assigning them together.

Sharon’s like having an older sister—one who feels free to nag you and boss you around. Bucky thinks he can deal with that. She’s kinda hot at least, and Bucky doesn’t think he’d mind being bent over and milked by her if push came to shove, so he tries to get along to go along, so to speak, doing his best to follow the rules she points out and to not piss her off too early in the game.

The Handlers are all grad students, it turns out. People in their twenties who are studying to become educators or therapists themselves. Some are women, some are men, but all of them are alpha. They go around in stuffy tweed suits that are almost as dorky as the outfit Bucky’s being forced to wear. Overall the look is pretty unremarkable … except for the leashes that they keep on hand. Those are worn at the hip, rolled up and attached to their belts as a constant threat to keep their charges in line. 

Or at least that’s how Bucky reads it, because all of the students wear collars. First years like him wear the orangish-brown, with the gradient of the leather turning a shade lighter for every year up the wearer is. There are other first years who seem to be his age, but there are also some who seem younger and some who are obviously older. Bucky’s confused about it until Sharon explains to him that, as a reform school, Carter Academy sorts its students by years of attendance, not by age. 

She points out the coloring system with the collars as they pass different students, and explains the symbolism. Turns out, the little metal placards aren’t engraved with their own names, but rather with the initials “S.G.R.”—Steve’s initials—to remind the students that while they’re under the custody of Carter Academy, Steve is their acting Alpha. Mortifyingly, Bucky pops a boner the first time he hears that, and the only verbal thing he’s able to squeak out at Sharon afterwards is a strangled little, “W-what does the ‘G’ stand for?”

Bucky knows super conservative people sometimes wear collars as a sort of political statement, but it’s rare to see in the area where he’s from. At first it doesn’t seem like the collars serve much purpose other than such a statement, but it isn’t long until Bucky starts noticing the way his shoulders untense and his insides relax, even within the first ten minutes or so of wearing it. Every time he swallows, he’s reminded of the band around his throat, and he instantly relaxes all over again in a sort of weird little feedback loop. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it’s the way the leather mimics the sensation of a Hold. Bucky can still remember how his legs had all but gone to jelly when Steve Held him in his office. The collar only provides a fraction of a fraction of that feeling, but it’s still nice.

Nice for now, anyways. He sees some of the other students being led around from place to place with their Handlers’ leashes clipped to their collars. Most of them act like it’s no big deal and walk around calmly like nothing’s amiss. When Bucky asks if they’re being punished for something, Sharon says no, blithely remarking that while it can be used as a ‘consequence’, it’s more often just a part of some students’ regular wellness regimens. 

It’s pretty darn easy to spot the few students who are being led around on leashes for punishment purposes, though. Those boys get dragged around a little more sternly by their Handlers, all sullen expressions and watery eyes. Sometimes they’ve also been made to go around in just their underwear and sweaters, or even naked, their backsides visibly pinked or even bruised from recent spankings. Bucky is horrified by the realization that Steve wasn’t lying when he warned of clothing privileges being taken away. He wants to ask what on earth might warrant a punishment like that, just so that he knows precisely what not to do, but he’s too embarassed to ask. 

Instead he trails after Sharon to breakfast in the dining hall, and then off to his morning classes. Given that his entire schedule has apparently been made without an iota of his own opinion or input, he’s surprised, bordering-on-startled, when his first subject of the day turns out to be English Lit. And he’s been put in an advanced placement class so that the material is sufficiently challenging. 

This must be what his old Principal was making him take all that testing for, he thinks. 

The classrooms all have wooden desks—the old fashioned, two seater types where the student’s seat faces the worktop and the tutor’s seat faces the opposite direction on the side. The Handlers sit in the tutor’s seats, their backs to the teacher at the front of the classroom and all of their attention on their assigned students. It’s a very intense experience, Bucky’s coming to realize, to always feel like he’s being watched so closely. He won’t be able to get away with much under these conditions, that’s for sure.

His mood isn’t too bad, however, as he makes it through that first class and realizes that he’s actually going to be receiving a real education at this place. Ever since he found out yesterday that Carter Academy was an omegas-only reform school, he hasn’t held high hopes that he’d be taught many real academic subjects, only silly homemaking lessons and child rearing classes and maybe, like, ballroom dancing or something.

So he’s quite happy to pay attention in English Lit, and then in his second period class of French 2, his spirits slowly and cautiously lifting because the teachers don’t seem to be dumbing down the material at all. Bucky may be someone who’s easily distracted, occasionally with alternative priorities, but he’s always been an A-B student. He starts to believe that he might actually receive a decent education at this place. It helps lift his mood from sullen and sour, to cautiously optimistic.

He goes about the morning in a suspended state of “maybe this won’t be so bad,” only for it to come crashing down in a series of brutal reality checks. And all before lunchtime, too.

First, he witnesses something that turns his face red and his cock rigid. It happens when he and Sharon are walking down the hallway towards his next class. There’s a boy bent over with his hands on a bench, and his Handler is right behind: spanking him. The boy’s a first year, with an orange-brown collar and skirted uniform like Bucky’s, the hemline of which is flipped up over his back and his briefs are pulled down under the curve of his bare ass. 

Bucky realizes that the jockstraps can and do remain on for spanking activities, but he doesn’t stop walking to look. If anything, he walks even faster to get away from it. He’s suddenly very glad that he’s got his own padded jock on to hide his body’s reaction to the scene. “What the hell?” he mutters to Sharon once they’ve passed. Sharon just smirks and pats him on the shoulder, telling him not to worry: they’ve been having great luck with his behavior so far and he’s far off from earning anything like a spanking.

-

Well. That luck runs out when, halfway through the lesson of his next class, Bucky realizes he has to go to the bathroom. He glances over at Sharon and whispers, “Hey. I ah, I have to go to the bathroom.”

Sharon raises her eyebrow, which by now Bucky knows means: Ask me the right way. 

He blushes and mumbles even more quietly, “Please, may I go use the restroom?” 

Sharon nods and signals to the teacher that they’re leaving, then she guides Bucky out into the hallway and down to the bathrooms. Nothing goes awry until they get down there and Bucky discovers that: 1) there are no urinals, 2) there are no stall doors, 3) he’s expected to sit to pee, and 4) that Sharon is fully planning to watch him do it. Like, not even avert-her-eyes type watching like they do for drug tests. She plans to stand there and attentively watch him take a piss.

“You’re kidding,” Bucky says, looking back and forth between the toilet and Sharon, as if she’ll suddenly declare it a joke and move away to give him privacy. When she does no such thing and merely stands there with her arms crossed, Bucky scoffs and turns away from the toilet in refusal. “No way. I’m not just gonna go in front of you.” Sharon’s eyebrow rises, and Bucky’s eyes narrow into slits. “And I don’t sit to pee.”

“You do now,” she tells him plainly, looking very unimpressed. When Bucky moves to step out of the stall, she widens her stance and steps in closer, blocking his way out. “Are we going to have a problem here, James?”

Bucky glowers at her. “What possible reason could there be for you to stand there and watch me take a piss?!” he demands—quite loudly, too. He’s expecting Sharon to react by scolding him or grabbing him or something. What he doesn’t expect is for her to shrug as if she couldn’t give a crap, and pull out her cellphone. She taps the screen and then puts it to her ear, her eyes fixed smugly on Bucky as she calls someone.

Bucky scowls, but that expression slides right off his face when the call is answered and Sharon says, “Hello Headmaster,” into the phone. “You said to call if we ran into any misbehavior?”

Bucky blanches. “Seriously?” he hisses, and when Sharon simpers like a grade-A snot at him, he realizes that this is actually probably still what having an older sister is really like; he was just romanticizing the fuck out of it, earlier. Bucky’s always liked being an only child. 

“Yes, Sir. I’ve got James Barnes refusing bathroom protocol up at the west second floor loo. Should I handle it, or are you able to swing by?” Bucky’s eyes widen and his stomach sinks even further as Sharon responds to something Steve has said over the line and says, “Okay, sure. See you soon.” She ends the call and puts her phone back in her pocket, giving Bucky a patronizing smile once she meets his—no doubt horrified—expression. “Just hang tight,” she says. “Headmaster Rogers will be here in a sec.”

Fuck.

This story is an ongoing commission for an amazing supporter who wishes to remain anonymous. If you have a story that you'd like to see custom written, send me a message on Tumblr or reach out on my Kofi.

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup

This has been a fill for:

Event: @sebastianstanbingo

Card: sarahowritesostucky

Square O4: Floral scents

[navybrat817]

You used that gif… and I don’t know why but it made me think of Readers and Bucky’s daughter. And Bucky put her into the costume. They bought it and it wasn’t a costume at all, so he cut parts for the legs and the eyes into it. Before he could make the ones for the arm the daughter runs off and into readers arms… and this would be kinda cute?😂🥺

I adore this, Sydney! I can very much see this with our Woodworker.

"Okay, Jellybean, I need you to stand still," Bucky smiles and knows as soon as the words leave his mouth that it's the last thing his little girl will do. Seeing her eyes light up, making the orange of the pumpkin that much brighter, he can tell she's smiling. "Please, I'm almost-"

But that little giggle he adores so much cuts him off as his daughter does a little dance in the suit. She kicks a foot and then the other and he can't help but chuckle. It's so sweet and funny since the costume still doesn't have the arms. It wouldn't take him long to make them, but he had to make sure the rest of the pumpkin was okay. It was the reason she had it on at the moment.

"You know that pumpkin still doesn't have arms, right?" You ask as you walk into the room, trying to do the same little jig as Bucky laughs more. Jellybean got her humor and moves from you. "Is that a new dance?"

Bucky's arms shoot out to catch his little girl, but even his super soldier reflexes are no match for her as she spins and runs toward you. "Mama, I'm a pumpkin!"

"I see that! The cutest little pumpkin ever," you smile, giving Bucky a look when you pick her up. The hold is a bit awkward because of the costume, but there's no denying the general protectiveness or love you have for her. "But what do you say you let Dada finish the arms?"

Bucky eventually finishes the arms. He even manages to get a before and after photo. He hopes every Halloween can be this sweet, even as his baby girl gets older.

Love and thanks! ❤️

[buckybarnesevents]

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞-𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭

𝐎𝐍𝐄  |  𝐓𝐖𝐎  |  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄  |  𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑  |  𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄  |  𝐒𝐈𝐗  |  𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

C4001 ⋆｡°✩ ROOKTHORNE

@rookthorne

⭑⋆⭑   Perseverance of Love

C1   |   Death AU   |   Grim Reaper!Bucky Barnes x Gifted!F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   Go Baby, Go

C2   |   Mechanic AU   |   Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   Jacks and Sunshine

C3   |   Tattoo AU   |   Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   We’re Starvin’, Darlin’

C4   |   First Responder AU   |   Firemen!Stucky x F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   I’m Gunnin’ For You

C1 + C2 + C3 + C4   |   Drifter AU   |   Drifter!Bucky Barnes x Drifter!F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   Honeyed Words of a She Wolf

C1   |   Sculptor AU   |   Artist!Bucky Barnes x Mafia!F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   Butterfly’s Wingbeat

C2   |   Personal Trainer AU   |   Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   Barnes Bed and Breakfast

C3   |   Bed & Breakfast AU

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑   A Brush of Confidence

C4   |   Makeup Artist AU   |   Bucky Barnes x Makeup Artist!F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   Mischief

C1   |   Kitsune AU

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑   Blue Sprite

C2   |   Gamer AU

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑   Doctor’s Orders

C3   |   Doctor AU

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑   Fit For A King

C4   |   Regency AU

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑   Pure of Heart

C1   |   Lumberjack AU   |   Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   Insatiable Innocence Pt. 1

C2   |   Pornstar AU   |   Pornstar!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   Old Fashioned

C3   |   Writer AU   |   Barista!Bucky Barnes x Writer!F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   Lachrymose

C4   |   Fantasy AU   |   Dragon Rider!Bucky Barnes x Dragon Rider!F!Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

TUMBLR   |   AO3

C4002 ⋆｡°✩ BUCKYISMYBICYCLE

@buckyismybicycle

⭑⋆⭑   swim for the music that saves you (when you're not so sure you'll survive)

C1   |   Social Media AU   |   Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   ruin me

C2   |   Dom/sub AU   |   Bucky Barnes x Joaquín Torres

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   i'm the furthest thing from heaven, but the closest to home

C3   |   Guardian Angel AU   |   Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   bulletproof

C4   |   Bodyguard AU   |   Bucky Barnes x Sebastian Stan

TUMBLR   |   AO3

C4003 ⋆｡°✩ CABLE-KNIT-SWEATER

@cable-knit-sweater

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. ♡

C4004 ⋆｡°✩ SIVAN325

@sivan325

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. ♡

C4005 ⋆｡°✩ STAR

@angrythingstarlight

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. ♡

C4006 ⋆｡°✩ SGT-SEABASS

@sgt-seabass

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. ♡

C4007 ⋆｡°✩ NAVYBRAT817

@navybrat817

⭑⋆⭑   What Dreams Are Made Of

C1   |   Tattoo Shop AU   |   Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑   In His Hands

C2   |   Modern AU   |   Woodworker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

⭑⋆⭑   Epinephrine

C3   |   Adrenaline AU   |   Motocross!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑   The Animal Within

C4   |   Myth AU   |   Shifter!Bucky Barnes x Shifter!Female Reader

TUMBLR   |   AO3

C4008 ⋆｡°✩ PURPLEICEDTEAS

@purpleicedteas

⭑⋆⭑   At Last I See

C1   |   Police AU   |   Bucky Barnes x Tony Stark

AO3

⭑⋆⭑   UNTITLED

C2   |   Soulmates AU   |   Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑   I Want Daddy

C3   |   Music AU   |   Bucky Barnes x Tony Stark

AO3

C4009 ⋆｡°✩ LATE-TO-THE-PARTY-81

@late-to-the-party-81

⭑⋆⭑   Apparently words can hurt me

C1 + C3 + C4   |   Modern + Bookstore + Medical   |   Bookstore Owner!Bucky Barnes x Doctor!Steve Rogers

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑   Dark Protector

C2   |   Bogeyman AU   |   Bogeyman!Bucky Barnes x Reader

TUMBLR

TUMBLR

C4010 ⋆｡°✩ DEMONANGELSWORLD

@demonangelsworld

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. ♡

Graphics & Masterlist made by @rookthorne / @rookthornesartistry

[fandomfluffandfuck]

My Youth Is Yours by fandomfluffandfuck

Paring: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Rating: General audiences

Tags: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Slice of Life, Boys In Love, Hair-petting, Massaging, Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Summer, Basically Just Softness, Affection, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Post-serum Steve Rogers, Woodworker Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, (the AU isn't too important they're just in love okay), Reading, Swimming, Sunbathing

Language: English

Words: 2.3k

Summary:

On a hot afternoon, Bucky catches up on his reading and does some thinking while Steve catches some sun. When they meet in the middle, it's pure tooth-rotting sweetness and love.

[buckets-and-trees]

Request Fest

This morning I woke up to a happy milestone here...

Even after rooting out (reporting and blocking) the deluge of pornbots that have come out of the woodwork the past couple of weeks, we've all of a sudden skyrocketed to 300 followers around here! I started this account and only started posting stories last July, and I didn't have any big expectations, I only wanted to start writing again for me and maybe have some fun sharing it.

And you have all made this considerably more fun by jumping on board, sharing, commenting... I literally adore and burst over the things you drop my way whether it be a keysmash, a gif, questions, commentary, declarations, anything and everything!

So to actually celebrate YOU incredible folk, I thought something really and truly for YOU would be in order...

Between now and Sunday, April 23, I'll take at least five of your requests and turn them into 300-3k word drabbles, head cannons, imagines, or fics! I'm off this weekend, so we may get more than five out of this, but I figured let's start with an attainable goal, and maybe I'll surprise and exceed expectations rather than fail to hit the goal hahaha...

HERE BE THE SPECS TO REQUEST:

You can be as vague or as specific as you want - I don't know how many requests this will bring in, and sometimes a very vague prompt or challenge will send me immediately into a lightning bulb moment, and sometimes a request-to-order might tickle my fancy, IDK

I AM MAKING NO PROMISES

THE MUSE WILL REACT TO WHAT THE MUSE WILL REACT TO

But here's a smorgasbord of things you can pick and parcel out to put in a request...

WHO: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanov, Joaquin Torres, Namor the Submariner, Thor, Carol Danvers, Matt Murdock, maybe some Jennifer Walters or Kamala Kahn, Nick Fowler, Hogwarts Founders, Tom Riddle, Lily Evans, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Regulus Black... you can request other characters but I may be less able/inclined to fulfill the request

WHAT: fluff, smut, dark, AUs, what ifs, missing scene scenarios, MCU between film things, a follow up to something I've already written

WHEN: medieval to now/near future

WHERE...I ALREADY KNOW I WON'T GO: I won't write college AU, DBF, stepcest, DDLG, watersports, underage

WHY: WHY NOT?

HOW: Drop an ask no later than Sunday with the request/challenge/idea/scenario/gif or pic inspo - again, I make no promises, but I am stoked to see what you send my way and I think this could genuinely be a blast

LET THE GAMES BEGIN!

[karimac]

...in the details, Part 11

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point in the story, are platonic, but there is romance in the cards for Kari and Bucky.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open! Please send an ask, and I will gladly add you to the list. If I have added you and you do not wish to be on the list, please let me know, and I’ll take you off the list.

Word count: 3.1k, give or take a word. Not beta read. All mistakes are my own.

Masterlist

That last Flag Smasher lived up to her to name as she sent you flying through the air and crashing into a pizzeria’s brick wall near that bus. You’d been to this Ray’s location, and you felt bad because the guy had just gotten his windows replaced after some idiot tried to rob a nearby bank and used a sonic weapon to make his point. Now that Tony was gone, these tech geniuses started crawling out of the woodwork because they suspected no one could stop them. It was a good thing Wong liked that Ray’s too, and, how did Sam put it? Oh yeah. Wong whammied the jackass to Riker’s Island?

You looked over toward where the kids had been teleported, and you thanked the pantheon those students and their teacher had been safely removed from danger. They’d have quite the tale to tell their pals at Dr. Daniel Bright Elementary School, the Home of the Bears! At least that’s what their shirts said.

You would never have expected John Walker to be the one to come give you an assist, but there he was, remnants of his homemade shield in hand, fighting off another jacked-up assailant who was trying to keep this horror show going.

Before you could feel the back of your head, everything went white, and you suddenly were not trying to get back to your feet on that New York street. You were Goddess knows where, and your sister Dana was trying to get you moving.

“Kari, please. Pete needs healing, and I am not up to it,” your sister said as her hands shook. They were covered in the blood of one Pete Wisdom, cranky Brit spy and current MI 13 agent. A mutant with the power of hot knives coming from his fingertips. But how did you suddenly know all that?

Back home, Dana was never one to rely on the use of magic for very much. Tall and thin with short dark hair and piercing blue-green eyes, Dana would have reminded many of the actress Keira Knightley. She was a lawyer by trade and a badass by nature.

And to top that all off, Dana was long dead. At least back home she was. She’d been killed during a standoff at a court house. Her client was a mystic, and some maniac hit Dana with a poisoned dart that was meant for said client.

She was, in this place anyway, terrified about losing her true love. You could feel the pain radiating off her in waves.

“I’ve got him,” you said as you placed your hands over Wisdom as you noticed many other members of the X-Men in the middle of some bloody brawl against an as yet unseen foe. But if you were seeing this, was their Kari suddenly at the mercy of the Flag Smashers now?

As you concentrated, you felt the pull of your own world and the tug of at least a dozen more. This was all going to pot fast, and you had no idea why all these pieces of you were making you into the human equivalent of taffy.

{{What the hell is Bucky going to think?}} you mused, keeping your thoughts to yourself as much as you could in case a family psionic link was being used. These people might have never met a Bucky Barnes, and you did not need to sit here explaining everything.

He would have gotten quite the laugh out of the spandex uniform you were wearing. Blue and yellow with a red X in a circle on each shoulder. What had possessed you to wear this outfit in this world was beyond you, but you hoped you’d find a more suitable one soon. It drew too much attention for your liking.

“I think most of these wounds are clean and healing,” you said as you looked up at Dana, the small smile of relief on her face worth every bit of energy you put into healing her lover. “But have him checked out when this is over. Pete can be too damned stubborn, so wheel him into med bay if you need to.”

You started to get up, but you turned your head to see if you could figure out which world this was before you got to your feet. Was this the one with Nathan Summers? Or maybe this was the world with Logan Howlett? Steve Rogers? Thor? It always got too confusing when those little shards Merlin sent into the multiverse actually started to make themselves a bit too vocal. It gave you headaches, and sometimes you wondered if it was making you crazy. You would have spoken to Bruce about it, but he likely wouldn’t have had many answers about it. And telling Sam or Bucky anything was out of the question, at least for now.

The ground around you started to shake as a Sentinel, a large robotic killing machine, made its way onto the battlefield, and the world went white again.

“Barnes! Wilson! I think your girl needs a medic!” Walker shouted as he stood over you. It didn’t take long for Bucky and Sam to make it to your side. You knew that much, even if you appeared to be dead to rights to everyone else. The screwy link to Bucky, courtesy of Wanda, still seemed to be quite active in your head. But you were not too certain it was in Bucky’s anymore. Pity that.

“Kari! Kari! Wake up!” he shouted as he knelt at your side while Sam checked for a pulse. You felt his hand on your wrist, and you tried to open your eyes. You just couldn’t at the moment.

When the white haze vanished this time, you realized you were still no closer to home than you were a few moments ago. You hissed under your breath as you looked up at the night sky, the battle dress of your last location now replaced by some Celtic-inspired gown of green velvet. You smiled as you looked over to see both Steve and Bucky, but they didn’t seem to be as pleased by whatever was going on. They were dressed in some sort of modified armor and looked more like men from your early life at the Tara Mount or Camelot than two men from 1940s Brooklyn. Only thing missing at the moment were their horses.

“Are you back?” were the only words Steve uttered before a volley of flaming arrows came over the parapet of the castle where the three of you apparently lived in this world. “Your Majesty?”

Oh, this world you did not like thinking about at all, and that was because you were queen of this place, and you were always more happy being a field general than you were as a member of the ruling class. Living in a tower, be it ivory or stone, sucked.

“No, I am not your queen, but I take it she has explained it all to you?” you asked just as both men pushed you back to the ground as more arrows came toward you. You tried to put up a shield but could not. No powers. This was new and most unwelcome.

“I will try to get her back to you as fast as I can,” you said to Steve and Bucky before the castle shook as a flaming boulder slammed the wall just behind you. “I am so sorry you had to go through this.”

“Ssh, we understand,” Bucky whispered in your ear just as he grabbed your left hand and Steve your right. They both looked concerned as hell, and not just because you were their queen. This one felt different. Polyamory? That was your closest guess as you smiled and squeezed both men’s hands.

{{Why is this happening?}} you thought as you felt both men move off you, and as they did, your reality was flipped once more, the white haze returning again.

“Should we call Strange? He might be better than a regular hospital run,” Sam suggested as Walker sent the last of the combatants to dream land with a couple of upper cuts now that his shield was kaput. “Are you still connected to her? That stuff Wanda did?”

“Sam, I wish I were, but I can’t feel a thing,” Bucky replied as he continued to kneel next to you. “I am not crazy about that damned link thing, but right now I’d take it.”

As your eyes blinked this time, your last location gave way to a crazed looking steampunk version of London with banners bearing your father Ronan’s face flying from every building in sight. You usually did not hate seeing the man who many said resembled Liam Neeson, but this was insane.

In this world your father was the worst despot known in history, and you had fled his court to marry Ryu, a demon warlord of the House Harada. Your sister Hayley, known as Camellia in this realty, had done much the same, but her life was tied to the son of Vlad Tepes. You really could not stay here long. Death was not something you wanted to face, and in this dimension, it was more likely than not to happen. Ronan did not like the “gutter trash” of the world mixing with the pure mystic blood of his family, even if he had fathered a bastard or two along the way himself. If your father had ever met his doppelganger, well, it would not have been pretty. Your father was fair, loving and tolerant beyond measure. This version was a sadistic imitation at best.

{{Need to get back to Bucky and Sam now, before I end up dead}}

Two sets of hands grabbed your upper arms and pulled you backward, and thank heaven that action seemed to send you home to your own world where Bucky was hovering over you. The lights of an ambulance were visible just down the block, and you could smell the aroma of garlic someone had burned wafting out of the pizzeria window. But you could also hear the whispers from that last world as you regained your senses. Two men seemed to be very happy you were not dead, but they were also shocked that you weren’t.

“Hey, you back with us?” Bucky asked as he, Sam and Walker all stood looking at you. You wanted to throw up, but you would not do it in front of these gentlemen.

“Sorry. That eejit packed quite a wallop,” you said as you grabbed Bucky’s arm to get back to your feet. “I’ll be fine. But I do feel sorry for the guy who owns this place.”

“Her version of fine and mine are very different,” Walker said as he looked down at his now broken shield. “You may want to have those medics check her out to be on the safe side. I thought I heard her speaking Japanese a few minutes ago, and I have no idea who she was talking to, Barnes.”

“I am here, Walker, and I can speak for myself. Tourists. I interacted with them earlier,” you said, lying through your blood-covered teeth as you tried to keep the trio off the scent of what was really happening. “The bump on the wall made me get hazy for a few minutes, so the most recent language set started playing in my head. Telepathy can be a bitch. I’ll be fine. I’m pretty damned hard to kill.”

“I don’t care what you say, we are having someone check you out,” Bucky said as Sam nodded in agreement. “You missed Sam’s speech. It was pretty amazing.”

“I heard some of it,” you said as you tapped your temple. “I’d have helped with the truck, but those kids needed me here.”

As you looked toward the ambulance and dreaded having to go see the medics at all, you heard what could only be called a “squee” from a group of teens near one of the police barricades. You recognized the girl with the high pitched joyful tone from a local vlog about The Avengers. She lived in Jersey City and had a thing for sloths. She also shared a name with a famous politician, albeit it was pronounced differently.

“Guys, hold up a minute. You too, Walker,” you said as you waved to the girl and her male companion. “Nice Captain Marvel shirt, my dear. She’d get a kick out of seeing it.”

“Oh my Gawd! Bruno!” the girl shouted before the police tried to keep them behind the barricade. “They saw it!”

You hobbled over to them, much to Sam and Bucky’s chagrin. “You two should be headed home before you’re missed. I know what a pain curfews can be. Many a time I’ve avoided them myself. But that was in the Sixth Century, so maybe that doesn’t count too much?”

“The subways are all shut down, and we can’t get a bus right now,” Bruno said as his friend pulled out her phone. “Kamala, that may not be a good idea…”

“Kamala Khan. Sloth Baby, right?” you asked before another “squee” escaped the girl’s lips. “Trust me, guys. Cap, you may want to talk to these two over here,” you said as you motioned for Sam to walk over. “I mean, this is Captain America after all, and he just gave the speech of his life. I need to go get my head examined, and I mean that quite literally,” you said as you pointed to the back of your head. “Good luck, Kamala and Bruno. Oh, and if you are ever in Manhattan at a more reasonable hour, come pay me a visit,” you said as you made two business cards appear out of thin air. “Lunch is on me. Sam, be nice to these two,” you said as you waved to Walker to join you and Bucky. “These two can keep me in line with the medics.”

“And why do I not believe that for one second?” Walker asked as you laughed.

“John. May I call you that?” you asked as you leaned more into Bucky’s arm as you kept walking. “None of this, from Baltimore to Madripoor and now Manhattan, has worked out as any of us had hoped. Especially for you. I can see things that are coming in small ways, and I know our paths will all cross again. People enter our lives for a lot of reasons. All I can hope is that, when we do meet again, we are all on the same side and without as much angst. Buck, I can go to the medics myself. Maybe you and John should finish that talk you started before,” you said as you pointed at your head. “Before I made the dent in the wall of Ray’s.”

“You really going to do it?” Bucky asked as you pointed toward the ambulance and walked slowly toward it. As you sat down on the step near the rear door, you looked first at Bucky and John, and then back toward where Sam was actually talking to Kamala and Bruno.

“You didn’t tell them, did you?” a tall woman said as she came up to check your wounds. “That you knew I’d be here?”

“Enya, I haven’t told them about you or Dev or Mina yet, and I am certainly not about to tell them I alerted you before this all started tonight,” you said as your sister-in-law Enya Sun slowly healed you of your wounds. A daughter of Avalon and one of their best warrior priestesses of the Holy Isle, Enya made short work of your issues, but she made it seem a lot longer so that those who needed to talk could do so. It was a long practiced ritual you had both done on battlefields for centuries. Your tiny bit for peace. That’s what Dev always called it.

“What did you see? You went walking again, didn’t you?” Enya asked as she tried to “balance” your body, mind and spirit after that attack. “Walking” was what Enya called your contact with the parts of you in other worlds.

“I saw enough to know trouble is coming, but I can’t tell what the hell it is yet,” you replied as you flexed your shoulders before smiling up at Enya. “Three places this time. One was Londinium. You know how much I hate that place. But two men were able to touch me. I have no idea who they are, but they seemed surprised to see me. One reminded me of my father. My actual father. Not that crazy copy.”

“That stupid spell you did made it worse. You know that, right?”

You rolled your eyes as you turned your gaze back to Bucky. “He does not need me making a mess of his life again. I’m hoping he hits it off with Sam’s sister. She’s…”

“Normal? Not a mystic? What?”

“Not me. I’ll leave it at that. He deserves so much more than…”

“More than someone who loves him like you do? Than someone who nearly burned Hydra to the ground in his name?”

“He deserves peace,” you said quietly as you got back to your feet. “They all do. And you and I know it will never happen.”

“Too damned cynical for our own good,” Enya added with a laughed. “I’m going to get you home now. You need sleep. And tomorrow we can talk about Silver Hand over there.”

“Don’t call him that. He’s the White Wolf. Winter Soldier if you must. But he is not some Celtic hero reborn.”

“Call him tomorrow, OK?” Enya asked as she slung your gear over her back and opened a portal to Brooklyn. She whistled at Bucky so he could see you exit the area with her. The last thing you heard was Bucky groaning and throwing his hands in the air.

Next: Part 12, or Is this the moment of truth?

Taglist: @arrthurpendragon, @historygeekfics, @starryeyes2000, @chickensarentcheap

[unseededtoast]

Rectify | Bucky Barnes

Part 12/37 | Part Eleven, Part Thirteen

Summary: I've lived every day for the past five years looking over my shoulder. I knew they'd come for me, it was inevitable. I was foolish to think I could outrun my past. It's followed me everywhere I go, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Never would I have anticipated that the shadows would lead me to the light.

Bucky Barnes x OC

Series Warnings: Discussion of human trafficking, alcohol consumption, graphic depictions of violence, sexual content, discussion of suicidal thoughts.

a/n: Hi everyone, thank you for checking this out, I appreciate any and all support! This series is also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats/platforms! This is a completed series, and it's going to take some time for me to transfer it to Tumblr, so please bear with me!

The bed feels a lot colder without him by my side.

The sound startles the two of us and we jump back from one another. I get out of the bed and straighten my clothes out, feeling confused and flustered. Bucky opens the door to see who's there and I follow him out. Steve is standing by the couch and looks between the two of us, a quizzical look on his face. I hope he doesn't assume anything intimate happened, I don't want there to be any issues between any of us, and especially not between Steve and Bucky. Steve blinks a few times and clears his throat.

"I hope I'm not interrupting something, I'm here to pick you two up." He says with an authoritative tone. He definitely isn't happy with what he just saw.

Steve walks back up the bunker stairs without another word and I look to Bucky, who shrugs. I grab the red book off the bookcase and we put our shoes on before following Steve up the stairs quietly, a heavy tension between all of us. Outside of the bunker is a Shield jet and I allow Bucky to sit next to Steve, I take the seat in the back. I don't know where we're headed but I hope it's a short trip.

We fly in a tense silence, and I want to break the silence by asking Steve what all happened but I can't muster up the confidence to do so. In a way I feel like Steve is an angry parent, Bucky and I the kids. I'm not even sure what happened between Bucky and I. Sure, we've grown closer and he's made me blush a few times but nothing serious happened. However, I know Bucky was leaning in for a kiss before Steve got there, and I know I would've let it happen.

I'm working for Shield in order to help Bucky recover his memories, provide support, and remove the programming from his mind, not kiss him and complicate things. I feel a twinge of sadness as I realize that no matter how much I wanted to kiss him back, I can't. I have to put the mission and his well-being above my own feelings. I just hope we can continue like nothing happened. I lean my head back against the seat and suppress my confusion and sadness about the situation, trying to get my head back in the game like it's day one.

Steve lands the jet on top of a building and gets out. Thankfully, he waits for the two of us and leads us in where I see Tony standing behind a wet bar. I look around the place and notice it looks similar to a Shield compound, but Tony's name is on a lot of things so I'm willing to bet this is one of his properties. I avoid Bucky's gaze and continue looking around the huge building.

"Where are the others?" Steve asks Tony.

"Bruce is still off the radar, Fury is trying to track him down. Natasha said she has some loose ends to tie up but should be here any minute now." Tony sets a glass down on the counter top and focuses on me.

"Isn't it just so weird how all of these Hydra spies come out of the woodwork once you show up?" I stand frozen in place. I take a few moments to process my thoughts before speaking. I need my words to be meaningful, I know Tony is the type of person that likes to get a reaction, so I won't give him the one he's looking for. 

"I've tolerated you accusing me of being a Hydra operative for over a month now, it's time to give it up. It's not a coincidence that they were there, you found some before I even came along. They were after him, I was just an added bonus. If I were with Hydra I would have activated the Winter Soldier during the alarms and taken him back to Russia for a great reward. You have no right to accuse me of being a spy when I've proved I am no such thing. It's insulting and I won't stand for it anymore." I fight back the urge to yell, knowing that would only invite him to argue with me. I keep my tone calm and collected, my accent becoming more prominent because I'm worked up. I wish I could yell at Tony and punch him across the face. Everyone stays silent, and I turn to walk outside before I start saying things I'll likely regret later. This entire day so far has been one big train wreck.

I walk around the building and sit on the concrete trying to collect myself. Tony hates me, Steve is mad at me, and I know things with Bucky are likely to get tense after what happened this morning. A small part of me wishes I wouldn't have taken this position, but I know if I hadn't I would probably be dead by now and Bucky might never get the programming reversed.

I'm starting to feel like everyone is turning against me. Maybe I can write out instructions as to how I would begin reversing the programming and leave it for Tony and Bruce. They're brilliant and I know they'd be able to do it. I can destroy the book so that there is never a Winter Soldier threat again, and then vanish. Sure, I'll likely still be hunted by Hydra every day of my life, but perhaps that's my destiny. In a way I took Bucky's free will and life, so isn't it fair that I give mine up in return?

Footsteps on the concrete path interrupt my stress-induced escape plan and I see Natasha walking towards me. We've never spoken to each other, and I've really only seen her the one time when I first arrived at Shield. I watch as she takes a seat next to me, not sure what to expect.

"Men are stupid." She says, and I'm not sure what exactly she's referring to but I agree with her nonetheless.

"Most of them are." I say and she cracks a small smile.

"We all know you're not a Hydra operative, even Tony knows deep down that he's wrong. I've been in your position before, I know how it feels." She says, her voice is soft and empathetic. I quickly make eye contact with her before looking out at the property.

"Everything has happened so quickly. It feels like just yesterday I was teaching and now I'm here, wherever here is. My life has completely changed in such a short amount of time, it still doesn't feel real." I say, motioning to the building. Natasha stays silent for a moment,

"Hey well at least you get out of grading all those papers." I let out a small laugh, grateful she's lightening the mood a little.

"The school probably thinks I'm some sort of deranged murderer, or that I was kidnapped. I'm sure most of my students are happy they get out of the class for the rest of the semester." I think back to my students. I miss seeing a few of them, like Sarah, and I hope she continues to learn regardless if I'm there or not.

"When Steve dropped Bucky and I off at the bunker he said that the mess needed to be cleaned up. What happened?" I ask her, knowing Steve probably doesn't want to talk to me at the moment.

"Well, we were able to take out a good number of the spies, though some of them got away. I went after a few of them and made sure they can't be a threat again. We weren't able to catch them all though." She says. I wonder if Pierce was one of the ones who escaped. I nod my head and sigh, this is all one big mess.

"They must have been planning something for years, there were so many of them." I say, remembering the number of Hydra spies there were as we escaped the compound. There's no way they could have quickly infiltrated Shield without being detected.

"That's what we're thinking too. But for now it's as taken care of as it can be. Come on inside, I'll show you where your room is." She offers and I follow her back into the building.

Steve and Bucky are in the room we first walk into, the two of them silent. Tony is nowhere to be seen. I avoid making eye contact with Steve and Bucky and continue following Natasha. She leads me to an elevator and we go up a floor. Once we reach the second floor she takes me down the hall on the left and to the second door on the right. She opens the handle and we walk in.

The room is sleek with modern furniture and technology everywhere. It's unlike anything I've seen, Hydra's technology was never this high quality and widespread and Shield's rooms were outdated. Natasha leaves me to explore my new room and I walk around to investigate everything. The sheets are black silk, and the tv mounted on the wall is huge. There's even a mini bar and a couch in here. Across from the couch is a massive window, stretching from floor to ceiling. I look to the ceiling and notice that there are small lights embedded in it, creating a starry night illusion.

A soft knock on the door startles me out of admiring the room. Steve walks in and shuts the door behind him. I don't really want to have this conversation with him, but I guess it'll be good to get out of the way. Steve stands across from me and I wait for him to say something first.

"What happened at the bunker?" He bluntly asks.

"Nothing happened, Steve. He offered to share the bed that one night because the couch started giving me back problems. Nothing more and nothing less happened." I say leaving out the more intimate details because it's really none of Steve's business.

"You have to understand what it looked like though, right?" Steve asks and I nod my head.

"I know exactly what it looked like but I promise you it was nothing more than a friendly offer. I'm here to help him, not get involved like that." I say, feeling sadness as the words leave my mouth. Steve nods, satisfied with my answer.

"Good. I know how Bucky is, he's a flirt and it can be easy to fall into his charm. Just ask my old dance dates." I smile, remembering when Bucky told me he used to "borrow" Steve's dates.

"He told me about that." I smile, feeling that there was no more tension between the two of us. I know I lied to Steve but I can't afford for us to have issues. Steve is the one person besides Bucky I've grown close to.

"Of course he did, but I bet he forgot to mention that after the serum I was the one stealing the dates." I raise my eyebrows,

"Oh is that right? Yeah, I guess he didn't remember that part." I joke with Steve, happy that we're no longer at odds with each other.

Night rolls around and I walk back to my room from having dinner with Steve and Natasha. Bucky didn't want to join us and I didn't insist that he did, maybe he needs space to think things over as well. However, I made a plate for him and put it in the fridge for whenever he does get hungry. 

As I walk to the hall, I notice that Steve left his door open slightly. As it turns out, Steve has the first room on the right in the same hall I did, Bucky has the last room on the right. I'm sandwiched between them in a way. I'm not sure who designated the rooms but I would've preferred to not be in the middle.

I close the door behind me and go to stand in front of the big window, looking out at the night sky. The stars remind me of last night when Bucky and I went out. Though we haven't spoken to each other since this morning, I miss him. We've spent almost every hour together for the past month and it feels weird not having him around. I want to hear his voice, I want to see his bright blue eyes. I wonder if he misses me too. I wish I hadn't taken his offer to share the bed, then things would be okay and he would be here with me right now.

With sadness in my heart I walk to the big bed and get underneath the covers. Just last night Bucky and I were close to one another, his presence was comforting to me just as it always is. I remember the way it felt when he held me close to his chest, his soft lips on my forehead and it hurts because I know it can never happen again. The bed feels a lot colder without him by my side.

[lovelyrecs]

wowowow ari i won't lie i read through the entirety of this two days ago while i was half asleep in bed and i loved it so much. definitely seeing what captured me so very deeply with harmless and i enjoyed it SO much. now i will do what i was too sleep to and reblog PROPERLY. your memes btw. huge fan. huuuuge fan like i cannot, i slept and i dreamt some of them no joke

“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”

of course they do and of course he is. sam is kind and funny and would actually talk to his fans, nat is cool and scary and they like the intrigue and clint is insane

“I don’ care,” he mumbles. 

HELP ME the wittiest one liner he could come up with is a three-year old's snotty mumble. matches up.

“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV. 

this is very sad to me. however, the image of steve rogers hunched over a tiny laptop, angrily typing an email to the dmv is very very nice. but not nearly as nice as him later on going to the actual dmv, waiting in the long ass line with his arms crossed and then talking sternly to the clerks and etc while bucky stands behind him silently

“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.” Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.

THAT WOULD BE SO

Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested. 

scott!!! he WOULD and i would gobble it all up. i love that man. he's the people's princess and every time the interns get to work with him they let out a collective sigh of relief

They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions. 

THE BACKGROUND??? LIKE A CRYPTID?? the content he will give is my profile picture-esque. just a blurry very petulant small face

Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.

LMAOO i have to say, though, what works works

For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to. 

ari is that an actual thing that exists

Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was– 

THAT'S SO SWEET STOP IT I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT HIS LITTLE FIGURES

“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”

PUPPET HISTORY also imagine if he'd said yes to puppets

“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”

IMAGINE THE AUDIENCE CHEERING LIKE IN A SITCOM. SHE'S BACK OH MY GOD DEAR READER

“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.” 

HELP ME she's so me

“Do you know what skinwalkers are?”  “No.” “That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.

I CANNOT THEY (you) MAKE MEMES OF HIM WHERE HE'S THE SKINWALKER LMAOO also like how she didn't expand at all like you get what you get suck it up you can use context clues “At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”

she's right, you have to look at the bright side. skinwalker bucky boyfriend. small wins.

Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?” “For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.” Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.

i love her <3 also very clever way of leaving it open for readers ari u are a genius

“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud.  He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.

LMAO why is he such a problem child and then pretends he doesn't know that. bucky barnes you make a conscious effort to be a little shit

ari shurisneakers you have done it again. live in my brain.

unsolved (i)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.

A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3

Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.

Apparently. 

On God, he cannot fathom why.

He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.  

By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.  

“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.

“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”

Bucky has the audacity to look offended. 

“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused. 

He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.

“I don’ care,” he mumbles. 

Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”

“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV. 

“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”

His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.  

“And also you signed the contract.”

Well. Shit. 

Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.

Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week. 

“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”

The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling. 

“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”

Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.

Maya stares at him.

Bucky stares back.

“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”

“No.” 

The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.

“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”

“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”

A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive. 

“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”

Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.

So they stick him in a couple of interviews.

Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.

Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.

He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.

They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.

They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there. 

The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks. 

They give him access to his Twitter. 

He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening. 

Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested. 

“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening. 

It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it. 

Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.

He begrudgingly agrees. 

Therefore, it begins. 

They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions. 

Then the jokes really start.

“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution. 

Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.  

He is not put in another video. 

And so he finds himself here. 

In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.

Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.

“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”

“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”

Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up. 

“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows. 

“No.” 

For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to. 

“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”

Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad. 

Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was– 

“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”

Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily. 

“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”

While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now. 

Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”

He wordlessly shakes his head. 

Been the former, seen too much of the latter.

Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”  

He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question. 

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”

“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”

“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.

“Other people have seen ghosts.”

“Good for other people.”

The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked. 

“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”

Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night. 

“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”

You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.

“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”

“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly. 

“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”

“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.” 

“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.

“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”

“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them. 

You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.

“Do you know what skinwalkers are?” 

“No.”

“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.

Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.  

“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”

“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–” 

“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum. 

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 

He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it. 

You were… loud. And open. 

Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium. 

Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”

Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.

“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”

Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.

“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”

 “Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow. 

“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.

“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”

“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates. 

“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”

“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head. 

“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”

“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”

“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.

Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues. 

“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.

Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. 

Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.

“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud. 

He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.

“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.

Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?” 

“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”

“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”

Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?

Yay. 

“One video,” he reiterates.

You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly. 

“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table. 

Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”

He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

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also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3

Next part

[ao3feed-stevebucky]

My Youth Is Yours

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/hpMuxTY

by fandomfluffandfuck

On a hot afternoon, Bucky catches up on his reading and does some thinking while Steve catches some sun. When they meet in the middle, it's pure tooth-rotting sweetness and love.

Words: 2332, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Slice of Life, Boys In Love, Hair-petting, Massage, Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Summer, Basically Just Softness, Affection, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Woodworker Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, (the AU isn't too important they're just in love okay), Reading, Swimming, Sunbathing, Post-Serum Steve Rogers

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/hpMuxTY

[navybrat817]

In His Hands

Pairing: Woodworker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky's new project is his favorite one yet for a very special reason. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Fluff, implied sexual content, pregnancy, slight feels (it's me), minor flashback, canon divergent, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. A/N: My first Connect 4 (C4007 - Square 2) / Into an Alternate Juneiverse for @buckybarnesevents! Set in Into the Woods AU and time jump from Valentine's Day Tradition, but can be read as a standalone.❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The buzz of the table saw echoed in the barn as Bucky carefully cut through the maple board, inspecting it to make sure it was even. He put a lot of thought and care into each project and design he created. Everything from cost to maintenance to longevity. His current project was especially close to his heart.

My favorite one yet.

After the fight, coming to grips with his trauma, everything, the city felt different. Bucky longed to have a simpler life. He unexpectedly found a bit of peace in the form of woodwork. Using his hands to build things, and not damage them, kept him busy and happy. But the thing that brought everything full circle was you.

His wife.

"Doll, I still can't believe you said yes."

"Who would say no to you, Jamie?"

He glanced at a photo of the two of you on the wall, still in disbelief that he got to wake up beside you every morning. He found it more and more difficult to get out of bed when he wanted to stay tangled up with you, but the bills wouldn't pay themselves and he had to work to get a paycheck. Lucky for him, his "office" was in the nearby barn. The yard was a decent size, too.

"Great place for a family one day, isn't it?"

"Just about perfect, doll."

Like Steve, he hadn't expected to love living a quiet life outside of the city, but he did. You made a beautiful home together and it wasn't that far of a drive if he wanted to visit. He wondered some days if he was living in a dream because things seemed too good to be true.

If so, he never wanted to wake up.

"Need you to be perfect," he said to himself as he cut another board.

He checked the design again, his eyes narrowed as he thought about how long it would take to finish. You gave him your seal of approval when he showed his idea and reminded him not to put too much pressure on himself. He had plenty of time to make it and other projects came first.

But he hadn't had a task as important as this one.

He removed his safety glasses when the sun shone through the window, giving the place a soothing glow and him a moment to pause and reflect. He made love to you that morning. There was no pain in his left shoulder. Steve planned to stop by this evening. It was just about a perfect day.

How is this my life?

"You know, I think that is going to be your best work yet."

Bucky turned his attention to where you stood in the doorway. He couldn't keep the smile off his face when he noticed you had one of his shirts on. You looked good in his clothes, always had. And seeing you enter a room still took his breath away. He didn't think he could love you more, but he did each day.

If I ever stop breathing from the sight of you, at least your face will be the last thing I see.

His gaze went to your stomach before he closed the distance between the two of you and placed his large hand on it. He hadn't built a crib, but he did his research to be sure he'd make the best and safest one possible. It would be something to hopefully pass on to future generations. Another tradition.

But first and foremost, it would belong to the baby.

Our baby.

"I'm just getting started, but I think you're right," Bucky said, sinking to his knees and kissing your belly. "Only the best for our little jellybean."

Most days he couldn't keep his hands off of you, but it got worse once he found out you were pregnant with his child. You were glowing, more than usual, and he was a moth drawn to the flame. Thankfully you didn't mind and let him indulge.

Your need matched his own.

He'd never forget the joy he felt when you told him you were pregnant. You often brought him snacks or lunch while he worked, but that day you brought him a small gift box, too. It wasn't his birthday or a special occasion, so he had no idea what it could possibly be. Inside were two positive pregnancy tests. He almost dropped them, too stunned to speak. His heart almost burst through his chest when he saw the happy tears in your eyes.

"We're having a baby, Bucky. You're going to be a dad!"

It took a minute to sink in. You were having his baby. He was going to be a dad. You were giving him a family. A life he had only dreamt of.

'I still have to see a doctor, but-"

His mouth came down on yours before you could finish what you had to say, his massive hands framing your face so he could deepen the kiss. He poured his love, passion, soul, everything into it. He took you right there on one of his empty work tables, his left hand on your stomach the entire time.

"I love you, doll. Love you both so much."

He brought you back to the house and made love to you all over again, taking his time to worship you. He didn't get any work done the rest of the day. It was worth it.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, concern filling his eyes when you yawned.

He always checked on you during his breaks to make sure you felt okay, even when you insisted that he didn't need to. Days like this when you visited the barn first, he still had to ask. Any discomfort or pains, he wanted to know and help however he could.

"Just fine," you assured him, tucking a few strands of hair that came loose from his ponytail behind his ear. Just like he couldn't stop touching you, you always found an excuse to run your fingers through his long, brown locks since he grew it back out. "A bit tired, but fine."

"You're not wearing your mama out, are you?" he asked your belly. He pressed his ear against it and felt a slight kick, as if he got an answer. "Good because she needs rest. She has enough to deal with taking care of me."

"We take care of each other," you said.

Bucky wanted to believe that. You had a good set-up in the city before the two of you decided to move and he worried you'd regret going with him. You reminded him that you were still going to work from home and it was a choice you made together.

Partners. Equals. Soulmates.

"Yes, we do," he said fondly, focusing on your stomach again. "But can you believe she had the nerve to ask if we should buy you a crib? Like she forgot I could make you one. Don't hold it against her, jellybean. Hormones and baby brain."

"Bucky!" you scolded before you laughed.

He chuckled as he kissed your stomach a second time. "I'm kidding. Kind of. I did have to drive all over town the other day to find the potato chips she wanted."

Bucky would drive to the ends of the earth to satisfy any craving you had.

"Hey. Our baby is the one asking for them and it was the only flavor that would provide any satisfaction," you defended yourself. "And I balanced it out with fruit, so everyone wins."

"Yes we do and I'm glad. I need you both nice and healthy," he said as he stood up.

"We're both fine. You know that," you smiled.

He hadn't missed a single appointment, wanting to be there every step of the way. Listening to his baby's heartbeat was like hearing his favorite song again for the first time. He actually waved at the screen when you had your sonogram. And he swore the baby waved back.

Bucky also bought a few books on babies and parenthood. While he knew some life lessons couldn't be learned from a book, he wanted to be prepared. You supported him in that and baby proofing the house in advance.

Your only request was that you didn't want to know what you were having, which he agreed to.

It would be a beautiful surprise for both of you.

"Need you both safe, too," he added.

"We are safe," you said, glancing around. "Our home is safe. You don't need to worry."

Bucky tried not to. Your home was secure and he kept a clean and safe shop in the barn, but he didn't want to take a risk by having you too close to any of the tools or get irritated by the dust. The only table he let you touch was the empty one where he made love to you. Maybe that was why it was still empty.

"I guess you're right," he said, brushing his lips against your forehead. "You know if we have a girl, I'm never letting her out of my sight."

"Oh, I know," you giggled, putting your hand on his wide chest. Feeling the wedding band through his shirt was one of his favorite things. "And if we have a boy, you'll teach him to be a gentleman. Though I imagine he'll probably be just like you."

"Hey, I am a gentleman, ma'am," he smiled.

"Mmm. You keep telling yourself that," you teased.

Bucky hoped they took after you. Kind, but fierce. Loving and fair. Whether he had a daddy's girl or a mini version of himself, he just wanted to have a special place in their heart.

"And you really don't mind that I'm making the crib, do you?"

"Of course, I don't," you said, frowning. He immediately kissed your lips to make it disappear. "Why?"

"Just making sure," he said, rubbing your belly. The source of comfort from such a small gesture amazed him. "I think I just feel better knowing our baby is truly in my hands."

It was silly, but Bucky thought if he made the crib that it would be like he was holding your child as he or she slept. That no matter what, they would be safe and cared for. Surrounded by familiarity and warmth.

Your baby deserved that and more.

"I think that's a beautiful thing," you assured him, placing a hand over his. "You work so hard for us and I know our baby will one day appreciate that you built them something with your heart and hands."

His hands, like the rest of him, were massive and strong. A man his size was meant to destroy, which he did in battle and worse. He also proved that he was meant to create. His size never intimidated you. In fact, you once said that one of many things that made him special was how deceptively gentle he could be.

That the only ruin he would bring you with his touch would make you whole again.

In my hands, you'll always be loved.

"I'll always work hard for my family," he promised.

He hadn't told you yet, but he planned to build a rocking chair for the nursery, too. He wanted it to be a surprise. He could already picture the two of you sitting in it with a soft blanket to keep you warm.

The image made his heart swell.

"And if I have my way, we'll have one more. Jellybean could use a companion."

"Now you sound just like Steve. Both of you wanting to keep your best girls knocked up," you smiled, sliding your hands up his muscular arms to his shoulders. "You think you'll convince me?"

"I don't think. I know," he smirked, kissing you before you could argue.

As excited as Bucky was for the next part in your journey together, he was also afraid. He knew he'd be a good father, but not a perfect one. He'd make mistakes and stumble along the way. He wouldn't always have the answer. What he did know was that he was going to give his child unconditional love and care.

Starting with the crib built with his heart and hands.

Bucky is going to be an amazing dad, right? And how about Steve? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

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