#James Buchanan Barnes
Pairing: Tom x Reader
Warnings: fluff, angst, oral (f receiving), cussing, bffs to lovers
Summary: Y/N is tired of never finding the chemistry in a partner that she finds in her best friend Tom so she does an experiment
Request: hello! can you write a best friend turned to lovers (but they both have feelings for each other already) fic of tom hiddleston x reader with this prompt: “I need you to make out with me. Don’t worry though, it’s for science.” then after, things get really steamy so you may add smut on this hehe btw, i loved reading your works and i hope you write more!
Requested by: @aestheticallyholland
A/N: When i saw the prompt i knew exactly what i wanted to do with it so i hope y’all like it as much as i hope.! Requests are open! I will happily continue this story since i didn’t do full smut but i felt like since this was more emotional and exciting he wouldn’t wanna over indulge rather than make sure you’re okay if that makes sense.
ALSO i PROMISE The Servant P2 will be up next, this request was just super interesting and i couldn’t help myself. I promise i’m working on it as you read this!!
You trudge up the stairs to your apartment, let out a sigh and open the door. “Y/N? I thought you had a date tonight?” Your best friend Tom speaks from the couch. You frown slam the door and shed yourself of your purse coat and shoes. You slide onto the couch and lay your head on his lap. He instinctively strokes your hair and kisses your temple, your body feels flushed as a result and you hide your blush. “What’s wrong, Dear?” He asks and hearing that makes it worse. You groan and force yourself to your room with no explanation. He frowns, blaming himself.
Why why why why why why why. WHY tommy. You think to yourself. Why is he the only man you feel any connection to?! He’s been your best friend for years. No one compares. Tonight was a perfect example, date with a PERFECT man. He has a stable income, home owner, doesn’t talk about himself too much and is genuinely interested in you and still all you could think was how his eyes reminded you of your best friend Tom. He kissed you goodnight and you felt absolutely nothing. And this isn’t the first time.
The next day after you return from work you go out with some girl friends, they all convinced you that you just pick the wrong guy and so you’re gonna kiss every guy you talk to tonight to prove that you can feel something for anyone else. You exit your room to see him standing in the kitchen cooking dinner. “Oh- you’re leaving?” He asks with a frown. You answer as you fix your earring and slip on your heels, “Yeah don’t wait up” You quickly leave before his puppy dog eyes can get the best of you.
A few hours later you find yourself trudging back to your apartment just as you did the night before only when you open the door, the apartment is quiet and dark. You were the slightest bit drunk trying to feel something for those men, which was a horrible failure, which is the only reason why you did what you did next. You dropped all your belongings leaving a trail to his door. You’re left in your t shirt and undies before opening the door softly and biting your lip. You were gonna get your answer once and for all, was it just the tension, were you soulmates, do you just have great sexual chemistry?
You slip into his bed and nudge him awake. He groans lightly and peeks his eyes open. “Y/N? Are you okay?” He asks and sits up slowly. You pull him back down to his pillow. “I need you to make out with me,” You spill and his eyes widen, “Don’t worry though, it’s for science!” You defend and he laughs lightly. “Y/N what are you-“ His words are cut off by your lips and he moans into it. You pull back and stare at him. This was it. This is exactly what you’ve been missing... Him. Both of your eyes light up and he flips you so you’re underneath him. He kissed you deeper and both of you smile into the kiss. “I love you Tommy..” You whisper as he kisses your neck. “You love me?” He stills and you nod. “Y/N, I love you!” He says and holds your face as he brings you in for another kiss. He pulls away suddenly and clears his throat, “Is this okay? I mean we don’t have to obviously like-“ He rambles and you pull him down into another kiss. You flip him over and pull off his shirt. He’s surprised to find you half naked already but he doesn’t question it. “Say it again..” He moans as you kiss down his chest. “I...” *kiss* “Love..” *kiss* “You...” you moan as you suck just below his navel. You pull his bottoms off and he yanks you back up on him. “Let me please you like i’ve always longed to” He breathes out and kisses your collar bone up your neck and nibbles your ear.
He slides down and pulls you up so you’re now hovering over his face. You look down at him surprised and he smirks before tearing your panties in half and diving his face into your warm center. You could’ve came just from the sight. You choke out a moan and your hands immediately lace in his hair. “Holy shit Tom..” He moans hearing his name on your lips in such a sinful tone. He slides two long fingers inside of your dripping heat and you whimper and clench around them. As he works his fingers in his other hand is laced with yours locked safe and tight. He curls his fingers and hits your spot making your legs quiver around his head and he hums into you pridefully. Hearing the noises, feeling what he feels, he has never been so happy. He never thought this day would come that he could show you exactly how he would treat you if he had the chance. His thumb strokes your linked hand as he works an orgasm out of you. You’ve never felt so safe, so erotic so sensual and so beautiful before. He worships your body like you crave men to and you worship his just as much. The way he loves you brings you so much pleasure you can feel it in everything he does. He sucks your clit gently and your eyes roll back.
“Tommy i’m gonna cum” You squeeze his hand and he goes faster working his fingers in and out and a rush flows over you and you sob out as you orgasm on his fingers. Your legs can barely keep you up so he sets you down to sit on his chest while you recover. He catches his breath and licks his fingers.
He caresses your thighs with both ands and steadies your shaky legs while humming. “You’re okay, Dear” He coos and you come back down. Everything about that orgasm was so intense. You’ve never felt so consumed by passion before. And boy does he know it too because his boxers are as wet as you were. “Lay down, Love.” He eases you off him and brings you to his chest. Your shaky voice speaks up worried, “Wait no, I- wait what about you? I cant just-“ He shushes you. He kisses your forehead, “Another time love, i’m as satisfied as could be with you in my arms.” You hum dozing off in complete bliss and he can’t shake the smile plastered on his face.
“Sleep well, my Dove.”
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Strong, dangerous, mysterious and sexy🙄
This is THE WINTER SOLDIER BOY🖤
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On My Knees For You
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word Count: 1407
Summary: The sickly green tiles have sharp edges that cut into your knees, shredding your worn fishnets. The whole bathroom is done in the same vomit-green tile, and it casts the two of you in anemic colors. Bucky is standing over you, looking tall and intimidating in the nasty light of the dirty club bathroom.
Notes: Based on this Instagram post. Seb is playing Tommy Lee, which idgaf about. So Bucky became a rockstar (and kept his metal arm okay), and this fic happened. I’m sorry. I’m a hoe for a tattooed badass.
Warnings: smut, porn without plot, rough sex, face-fucking, choking, penis in vagina sex
DISCLAIMER: 18+ ONLY PLEASE. By clicking Read More you agree that you are 18 or over. I do not consent for minors to read any part of this fic.
Posted on Ao3: HERE
Do me a favor and reblog this if you like it. I really appreciate it. 💜💜💜
“Open up, dollface,” he says, tracing his thick thumb across your bottom lip. Your mouth pops open automatically, and the rough digit sweeps across your tongue, tasting of cigarettes and whiskey. If you could taste the tattoos that swirl over his skin they’d taste like licorice, angry and black, and as lethal as the man who wears them.
The sickly green tiles have sharp edges that cut into your knees, shredding your worn fishnets. The whole bathroom is done in the same vomit-green tile, and it casts the two of you in anemic colors. Bucky is standing over you, looking tall and intimidating in the nasty light of the dirty club bathroom.
You suck on his thumb, swiping your tongue over it. He hums, and palms his cock through his tight black leathers. He unbuckles and unzips with his shiny metal arm, and gets his cock out.
You suck on his thumb, swiping your tongue over it. He hums, and palms his cock through his tight black leathers. He unbuckles and unzips with his shiny metal arm, and gets his cock out.
“Open wide, dollface,” he growls, “don’t choke on it.” His thumb on your tongue, and index finger under your chin, he roughly pries your mouth wide with his pincer-grip. His cock is huge, and you’re not sure how he expects that you won’t choke on it, but damn if you ain't gonna try.
Your eyes are on his face, framed with long shaggy hair, dark eyes ringed with smudged kohl. He’s biting his bottom lip when his fat cockhead slides over your tongue.
He’s only just started feeding you his dick and you already feel the strain in your jaw. He slides his thumb out of your mouth so he can slip more of his prick in. His fist is wrapped around the base of his cock and the metallic fingers are still an impossibly long way away from bumping against your lips. In a blink, his rough grip changes, and his fingers are pressed into your cheeks, wrenching your jaw even wider. With a grunt he thrusts in, finally his metal fingers are gone, and he’s pushing past your gag reflex.
And you do choke then, a wet, broken gagging sound that makes Bucky grunt, and you feel a wet drizzle of precome slide down the back of your throat.
“Fuck you sound pretty, gagging on my cock, dollface.” Another thrust, and it happens again. He cups his unyielding metal hand around the back of your head and starts fucking your face in earnest. Tears are running down your cheeks, and you can feel drool coursing down your chin every time he pulls out.
He abruptly withdraws from your mouth, sending you rocking forward, hand planted between your knees to keep yourself from falling. His metal arm winds itself into the hair at the nape of your neck, and your skin tingles when he uses it to pull you to your feet.
He’s backed you against the wall now, the metal fingers are wrapped around your throat. He kisses you roughly, not caring about the mess he made of your face. His right hand is under your skirt, rubbing against the soaked fabric of your panties.
“Dollface, you’re dripping for me. Can’t wait for me to fuck you, can you?” You shake your head, and with a quick yank, your panties are gone. Bucky tosses the shredded mess onto the floor. His fingers are back to rub your cunt, but the fishnets are in his way now, so he rips them right up the middle.
You groan when he shoves three thick fingers into you with a wet squelch. Slick runs down your thighs and Bucky curses at how drenched you are.
Your knees go weak when he bends to kiss you again. His tongue is in your mouth, and your legs aren’t supporting you at all anymore, but you don’t so much as budge from your spot on the wall. Bucky’s metal arm has you pinned in place as surely as if you’d been mounted there with screws.
Then his big hands are on your ass, scooping you up to wrap your legs around him. His thick cock is nudging against your pussy, and you make a broken sound when he starts pushing in slowly.
He feels even bigger than he looked when he was in your mouth, and the stretch hurts in the sweetest fucking way. “Oh, fuck, Bucky,” you groan, “so big.”
“Yeah. Fuck, you’re tight. You can take it, dollface. Know you can.”
Finally his hips snug up against your ass, and you’re having trouble breathing because you’re full of his cock. With a primal growl he starts fucking you hard and fast, punching weak pleading noises out of you. You cling to his shoulders, your nails leaving hot, angry furrows in his skin.
He perches your ass on the edge of the filthy countertop, and the new angle drives his cock right into your g-spot. An orgams rolls over you without warning. Bowing your back, and balling your hands into fists, you leave a pattern of bloody half moons all over his shoulders. A gush of hot, slick fluid rushes out of you, drenching the front of his leather pants with your come.
He pulls out of you with a grunt, spinning you, and pushing you onto the countertop. He pushes back into your pussy and fucks you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He yanks you back against his chest, letting you leave one knee on the countertop, and hooking his tattooed arm under your other leg to spread you open for him. His cool metal hand is wrapped around your throat. And maybe it’s a promise. Maybe it’s a warning. Maybe it’s a threat.
You’re both in the reflection of the dirty mirror over the sink. Bucky shines with a sheen of sweat, but other than that she shows no sign of strain. He isn’t even out of breath.
“Look at that, will ya?” his Brooklyn drawl is even thicker when he’s got his dick in you. “Tight little pussy split open on my cock. Look so fucking good when you’re full like this, doll.”
He spreads his big hand over your lower abdomen. “Fuckin swear I can feel myself right here.” The pressure helps him pound into your g-spot again and sends another orgasm burning through you, and you come with another rush of fluid, screaming Bucky’s name. The rapid-fire orgasms make your head swim.
“Oh fuck,” Bucky chokes out. You’re squeezing around him, and you feel so much tighter from this angle, and he’s racing toward his own release.
He grits his teeth together, and brings chilly fingers to your clit. “One more time for me,” he demands, “come on doll. I’m close.” And he doesn’t even have to ask, because you’re already right fucking there, as his fingers push you over the edge, screaming and gasping his name.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he grits out in a rough voice, “Oh fuck—”
A heartbeat goes by where he feels impossibly large, and then his cock is throbbing inside you, flooding you with his hot, sticky come. Bucky bites your neck as he fucks out his last few strokes, pushing jizz out of you, leaving a streaky mess on his leathers.
Much more gently than he’s been so far, he spins you in his arms, and sets you on the countertop. He passes you a handful of paper towels from the dispenser, and grabs more for himself.
“I think you ruined these pants,” he chuckles, “And I’m not even gonna say how wet the inside of my boots are.”
“I can hardly be blamed for that,” you sniff.
He holds his hands up in supplication, “I’m just saying—you were there too.”
You giggle as he leans against the countertop, tucking you under his arm.
“You ever fuck a rocksar before, doll?”
You snort a laugh. “Only every single day, punk.”
Bucky chuckles and you elbow him in the side.
“And everytime I touch myself...” you continue.
Bucky grins at you like a predator, “Oh doll, now we’re talkin’...”
“Down boy. I know you don’t need to recover, but I sure as shit do.”
“Well, I’m feeling generous, so you take five.”
Your laughter echoes off the grotesquely colored tiles. Steve, the bass player for your band The Howling Commandos peeks through a crack in the door. “If you pervy fuckers are done, the bus leaves in fifteen. Don’t worry about packing up your equipment, I took care of it…” Steve turns away with an eye roll, mumbling, “like I always fuckin do.”
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Another Time, Another Place
James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes x Female Reader
PART SEVEN (catch up on the series here!) or, if ao3 is your thing, here
Word Count: 1,437 *unedited*
This is a filler chapter! Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the continuous support and feedback with this series. I really really love writing this! Also all y’all who have filled out my taglist?? Your jokes are immaculate omg. I love them.
It was the warm sun seeping in through the blinds that woke him, his eyes squinting as he pulled himself from the depths of sleep to find you no longer in his arms--where he’d expected you to be. Bucky didn’t get much sleep, like ever, plagued by his own endless nightmares that came from his haunted past, so when he had heard you thrashing on the couch he’d already been awake. It had been instinct to crawl next to you, moving your out-cold body to lay across his chest and hold you in his arms. He’d felt you relax into his embrace, and it was honestly the best he’d slept in months, too.
But at some point during the night you’d apparently gotten up and taken the floor spot. He tried to not let it bother him, but the fact that you’d rather sleep on the floor than next to him made his heart ache. Just a little.
At the sound of footsteps approaching the living room, his eyes leveled to meet Sam’s, who had Cap’s shield strapped to his arm as he motioned towards the back door. Bucky was on his feet immediately, tiptoeing around your still-sleeping body.
“You made her sleep on the floor?”
Bucky shot the quietly-laughing Sam a glare as the pair walked out the back door together.
It took another two hours, just before nine in the morning, for you to wake up. Your lower back was aching from the harsh flooring underneath you, and the sleep in the corner of your eyes was irritating. It’d been a long, long time since you’d had coffee, yet you knew you needed it. Maybe coffee will solve my problems.
As you trudged into the kitchen, knowing that you must have looked like a complete mess, you tried to get the images of The Winter Soldier out of your mind. They’d plagued you for hours last night--seeing Bucky turn into what you could only describe as a rabid animal still made you want to throw up--and they’d followed you into your sleep.
You’d dreamed about The Winter Soldier being sent to kill you.
Because, ultimately, that’s what Senator Pierce was planning on doing with you, wasn’t it? You had never truly learned about what he wanted with you--he’d apparently died in the raid on SHIELD headquarters, but that was all the info you received. Knowing what you did about programming and what Senator Pierce ultimately wanted to accomplish, it made sense that he would have eventually grown tired of funding a project that wasn’t heading in the direction he wanted.
It was all speculation on your part, of course, but nevertheless you saw The Winter Soldier in your dreams, his eyes the same icy blue that you’d once loved.
You had expected to find Sarah or the kids in the kitchen when you rounded the corner, but instead you found Sam. He was pouring a steaming cup of coffee into a mug, his eyes never once leaving your face as he did so.
“Good morning,” you managed, thanking him as he slid the cup of coffee towards you before fixing one for himself. You tried to avoid his eyes as you sat in one of the barstools, the warmth of the mug seeping into your palms.
“I saw what you looked up last night.”
“(Y/n), stop. You don’t need to justify your actions. I get it. I do. But I do think that you should have let Bucky tell you when he was ready. He’s got a lot of demons, just like I know you do. And poking your nose in things where it doesn’t yet belong is going to make things messy.” He took a sip of his coffee. “There’s a reason Bucky hasn’t told you things, yet. You should have given it more time. Because I can see this blowing up in your faces.”
You stared down at the coffee, swallowing thickly. You knew he was right. Of course he was. The curiosity had gotten the better of you and instead of actually taking a step back and thinking about any possibly repercussions of said curiosity, you went for it. You acted on impulse. The same impulse that had put you on Zola’s train. And everyone knew how well that turned out.
“I just wanted to see if I was right.” You murmured, “And on top of being proven right, I got confirmation that he’s not the same man he used to be.”
Sam sighed, setting the coffee mug on the counter in front of him. “No, he’s not. But you knew that already. I know you did. I obviously didn’t know him in the 40s, but it’s been nearly eighty years. And he’s been through a lot. That changes people. Just like you’re probably not the same as you were.”
You could only nod, knowing that it was most likely the truth but also knowing that it was a truth that you couldn’t yet accept. You didn’t think you were ready to accept that you were a different person, even if you could feel it deep down.
“What was he like?” Sam asked, and as you looked up you saw a small smile on his face. “In the 40s. Before all this. What was Bucky like?”
You felt your cheeks warm just as your heart did, and you couldn’t help the smile that crossed your lips, “He was...the best man I’d ever known. I met him through Steve--Steve and I were neighbors, you see--and from the moment I met him I was just..enamored. He and Steve loved to pull pranks on me. Bucky loved to laugh and dance--he was an amazing dancer,” you glanced out the kitchen windows, through which you could see Bucky throwing knives at targets hung up on trees. “He used to take me to dance halls whenever he could. He used to tell me that it was because he wanted to show me off, but in reality I think it’s because he wanted to show off his dancing skills.” You couldn’t help but laugh quietly, images of those crowded dance halls and Bucky swinging you around in a swing dance, both of you full of smiles and laughter and love. So much love. “Bucky was kind and considerate, but he had a rough edge that came out whenever he felt that someone was treating either me or Steve with disrespect. But...but most of all he was loving. Every time he took me out he brought me flowers, to the point where I was running out of vases. It was always my favorite kind of flowers, too. And the day he proposed--he’d been so nervous that I thought he was going to end things with me, honestly, but he took me on a picnic and asked me to spend the rest of my life with him.” Another glance out the window told you that Bucky was pulling out the knives from the tree. Even from your spot in the kitchen, you could see him glance towards the road. “I’ve never loved anything, or anyone, more in my entire life. It was a no brainer.”
When you turned to look at Sam, you could see the gears turning in his head. “I’m trying to picture Buck dancing, and I can’t. At all.”
You let out a laugh--a real, genuine, happy laugh. Because, quite frankly, you couldn’t picture him dancing anymore, either.
“Can I ask you something?” Sam started as the both of you calmed down from your laughing fits. You nodded, giving him the go ahead, “Does the rest of your life mean starting now? Think about it...you two have a whole new chance at this thing. Does that ring still mean what it meant to you then?”
It’d been something you’d thought about, a lot, since you were pulled from your cell and reunited with Bucky. You weren’t sure if you were even capable of feeling that way anymore. There was too much darkness, too much confusion, and it made feeling anything other than fear and dread seem so far out of reach. Did you want it to mean something again? And if so, were you willing to try? Try to climb out of the depths of your darkness and enjoy life again, enjoy this new life that could very well be a second chance, like Sam had said.
You opened your mouth to answer when the kitchen door opened, and you and Sam both looked over to see Bucky standing in the doorway, his face void of emotion as he spoke, “Rhodey’s here to speak to you.”
permanent tags: @naboo-nights @laserbrains @shads121 @juliesland
bucky tags: @lizajane3 @lo-manburg @cataves @hawkeyeharrington @ginger-swag-rapunzel @supernaturalcat7 @nicolekellys @excalibur22 @maryosprinkle @suvikamahes98blr @scarletxo17
marvel tags: @mausor @sebby-staan
also tagging: @josephines-journal & @mr-and-mrs-sith for this one :)
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Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan)
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff, horrible writing idk how i feel ab this 😭
Summary: Bucky has a crush on Tony’s secretary.
Request: Give me fluff or give me death! Just kidding, may I request a fluffy Bucky Barnes fic? It can literally be about anything.
A/N: this was such a broad request i hope i did your request justice 🥺 i didn’t proof read cus i’m super tired but i’m reading through all your requests and i will get to them all asap i promise thank you so much for all the inspiration request away!
“Alright Ladies and Gents.... and mantis...” Tony says as you hand out spreadsheets to each individual at the table. Mantis let’s out an excited giggle even though she has no idea what he meant. “It’s about that time for another team meeting..” Tony goes on and you lean over to hand out the last one to none other than mister Bucky Barnes. He glances up at you and smiles with a nod. You blush slightly and step back. The whole meeting you felt him eyeing you. Tony babbles on about various topics and Steve pipes up with a sarcastic comment here and there with Scott laughing and high fiving everytime.
“So basically, just please show up to my parties guys I let you live here rent free.” Tony finishes and they all groan. He could never end anything on a serious note. As everyone gets up to leave Tony speaks up once more, “Oh yeah guys speaking of, there’s a party tonight and I swear if anyone ditches again you’re homeless.” He says and stares at Bucky, Loki, Wanda and Steve. Later in the day you run into Bucky in the main hallway. He smiles innocently and you pass each other. Before he could get far you turn around, “Mr. Barnes!” You call and wave him back toward you. He looks around and approaches you. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go to the party tonight, like with me..” You ask and nibble on your bottom lip as his eyebrows shoot up. “Like-like a date?” He sputters. “If you want, yeah” You say and before he could finish a thought you kiss his cheek and continue, “meet me by my room around 9:30 if the answer is yes” You smile and walk away leaving him there shocked with a burning blush on his cheeks.
9:30 came around and not a minute after you heard a knock on the door. You open the door in a burgundy dress. His breath hitches in his throat and he clears his throat quickly. “U-um.. these are for you” He says weakly and hands you a bouquet of lillies. You smile brightly and take them before smelling them. “They’re beautiful, thank you so much James.” You say sincerely and he stiffens at his name on your lips. “I’m gonna go put these in a vase, come in.” You invite and turn around showing your exposed back of the dress. He’s surprised you invited him in, he’s surprised he’s here with you at all. “You look amazing tonight” You yell out from the bathroom as you fill the vase with water. He rocks on his heels nervously. “Look who’s talking” He answers as he dries his sweaty palms on his pants. You return with the flowers in a vase and set them next to your bed. “Perfect.” You say and look to him. “You ready?” You ask and he nods.
You take his hand in yours and his heart flutters at the sensation. As you make your way downstairs the music grows louder and louder and, to Bucky, so is his heart. He never realized how nervous he’d be with you. He knew he needed to pull himself together. Stepping off the elevator to the party, He tugs you to the dance floor and immediately starts twirling you around. You squeal in excitement and he smiles. He pulls you back close to him and stalls for a moment. “That was amazing” You say out of breath. The song changed to a slow one and you danced lightly. “Yeah that’s how it was done in my day.” He chuckles. “At least, when you were trying to impress a pretty girl.” He finishes. You smile at him and blush. “You want to impress me? But why?” You inquire. He takes in a deep breath.
“I’ve liked you for some time now Y/N and i’m hoping you’ll be my girl.” He says with a shaky voice. You look up at him with bright eyes, “Really?” You spoke and giggled. “Of course, of course, of course!” You repeat and jump into his arms. Suddenly you hear applause and displaced “whoops” from the bar just to see Tony, Nat, Steve, Sam, Thor and Scott cheering him on and giving him a thumbs up.
“About damn time, Barnes!” Nat yells and you giggle and bury your face in his chest.
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Fireworks: Bucky x Sarah, Chapter 9
FInally some closure! Still a few more chapters, but things are heading the right direction. If you’re following along, I posted chapters 8 and 9 today, so don’t miss that one. Thanks for reading!
Bucky gently put Sarah down, feeling a stiffness in his muscles.
You have been a problem, Sandhurst spoke in his head. I didn’t know you were in a relationship with Ms. Wilson. That was my fault, I admit. Insufficient exception handling.
Bucky gripped the disc with his metal fingers. He would crush flesh and bone before letting someone have control of his mind.
The first few minutes are the hardest. Controlling the Winter Soldier is a challenge I’ve wanted to try. But your mind is already broken, isn’t it?
Bucky’s hand tremored. “What was the play?” he asked through numb lips. Keep the idiot talking. “Everyone knows Sam’s compromised. Nobody trusts me anyway. Not too stealthy of you.”
Sandhurst narrowed his eyes. Bucky’s fingers tremored again, a shiver that ran up his arm.
“With Wilson,” Sandhurst said, “it’s personal. How do you think Karli Morgenthau stayed off the grid? How did she cover her tracks? Keep her face off surveillance a thousand times? I did it.”
“Sam didn’t... kill her.”
“He weakened her. Made her doubt. He ended the Flag Smashers; he renewed hope in this country. Countries, greed, borders, I could make it all so much more efficient. Karli didn’t understand, but I was going to ride her vision to success.”
“So... you want to do what? Control Sam? Control the president? Won’t work.”
He gave a gruesome, secret smile. Won’t it?
Bucky felt sweat soaking his shirt. Fear sweat. He willed his fingers to crush the disc, but Sandhurst’s force was there. His hand hovered, his fingers quivering.
Sandhurst wasn’t strong enough to move his hand away yet; Bucky wasn’t strong enough to completely throw him off.
Darcy met his eyes. She shifted her gaze deliberately to a cloth pouch dangling from Sandhurst’s belt. It contained more discs.
She shifted her eyes to and fro.
Yes, Bucky got the message. She needed one of those discs in her machine to stop Sandhurst’s transmission and free the others.
Unfortunately, he was so far from being able to lunge and get one, they might as well have been on the other side of the stadium.
This was very bad.
When Sarah began to come around—was that twice in one day?—she was crumpled on the floor. She felt Bucky’s foot under her back.
Ugh. Her head throbbed, her arm hurt. Her body might burn through anesthetic quickly, but it made her feel like dirt.
She remembered why he’d done it. He was protecting her from Sandhurst, but still...
Sarah realized belatedly that Sandhurst was talking, and it wasn’t in her head. He was right there in the room with them.
“Wilson is going to die today,” he said. “No help for it, part of the plan. You, however,” he grunted. “If I can get solid control, you would be very helpful to keep on staff. Every programmer needs to co-opt the occasional subroutine from a competitor, you know. And what are you, if not free code, free for the taker? Your brain has been used and passed around like a whore, what makes you think you can keep me out?”
Sarah burned in anger. She risked a peek.
It would only be seconds before Sandhurst realized she was awake.
She thought of Bucky catching her before she fell. She thought of him protecting Sam’s back on countless missions. Of him playing basketball in the driveway with Cass and AJ. He was part of her family and she would not let him go down this way.
In one quick motion, Sarah grabbed the knife from her pocket. The one she’d stolen when this first began.
She rolled to her knees; a flick opened the knife.
With a grimace, she drove it into Bucky’s arm. Straight through the disc.
His blood trickled off the knife and down her arm. Kind of a lot of blood.
But his face relaxed and his mouth opened with relief. He took a huge breath. There were tears in his eyes. “Thank you, Sarah.”
He charged Sandhurst and hit him in the torso. He hit him so hard, they both crashed into the huge glass windows in the front of the press box, which shattered outward. He and Sandhurst went flailing out of sight into the stands below, though Bucky threw something in the gaping window as he fell.
Sarah licked her lips and staggered to her feet.
“That was awesome,” Darcy said to Sarah. She grabbed up the bag of discs that Bucky had wrenched off and thrown back to her. “I can see why Bucky likes you.”
She frantically got one of the discs—holding it like it was a roach—and pressed it into her modified spectrometer. “If Bucky can just keep Big Ugly occupied for a minute... and I can hack into his controls...”
She rolled her shoulders, trying to focus on her program. The disc that was now attached to the base of her neck, just over her spine, seemed to itch. She’d heard what happened to Sandhurst’s guys on the side of the highway. No way did she want to die in an explosion like that. No, sir, no, thank you.
“Okay, never mind, I can’t just hack into his system... but I can... I can probably modify the signal. It’s a point-to-point network, each node communicates with the others.”
Darcy bit her lower lip as she tried different configurations. “However, if I modify it the wrong way, it could send the kill signal. That would suck.”
Sarah raised gestured at the computer. “Don’t waste time telling me!”
Darcy smiled tensely. “Don’t worry, it helps me to talk while I work. I sound like an idiot, but I’m not. Though sometimes I wish to heaven my job involved normal daily stress and not sudden spikes of deadly danger. I need a vacation.”
“You ballsy bugger,” Darcy suddenly exclaimed. “He’s got them on a fail-safe. I mean—if the frequency stops, they’ll blow. If he dies, they’ll blow. If I take down the network...”
“They’ll blow.” Sarah twisted her hands.
Darcy typed furiously. “Which means I got to figure this out before Bucky kills him. But Sandhurst didn’t count on me, I eat gods for breakfast.”
Bucky managed to land on top of Sandhurst, who took the brunt of the fall. His exoskeleton was still in bad shape from their fight earlier.
This part of the stands had cleared—which was half of a miracle Bucky didn’t have time to contemplate—and they leaped to their feet, both balancing on benches. Sandhurst had the higher ground, but Bucky didn’t care.
This time, Sarah was safe. No discs were nearby. Bucky just needed to keep Sandhurst busy. He didn’t hold back.
Bucky got the knife out of his arm—bless Sarah a thousand times for her quick action—and used it. It wouldn’t cut through the exoskeleton, but Bucky managed a jab at his ribs, another at his thigh.
They cartwheeled through the aisles. Twice Sandhurst tried to use his repulsors to fly away, but Bucky tackled him back to the stadium.
“No, you don’t get to leave this time.”
Darcy began to smile. “I’m copying the signal from Sandhurst’s node. I’m going to make this one the command node. We won’t be able to use it like he could—unless you’re telepathic at all, please speak up if so—but it will keep the signal uninterrupted. No kill signal.”
“So, he’s got a disc on himself?” Sarah said. “I didn’t see one.”
“Probably hidden. Seems like they work anywhere on the body.”
“And... copied. We’re in business now.” She pointed to the disc in her spectrometer. “No more fireworks today.”
Bucky’s fight with Sandhurst was punishing, but he didn’t let up. Couldn’t let the man regroup. Couldn’t let him control Darcy and Sarah.
Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw Sam coming toward them. That did seem to be Sandhurst’s hail mary.
This time Sandhurst sent Sam slicing by Bucky, catching his arm with the tip of his sharp, metal wing.
The cut stung but wasn’t too deep. Maybe Sam managed to pull back slightly?
Sam came around again, and Bucky ducked lest he get sliced across the back of his neck.
In ducking, he gave Sandhurst an opening, and got a knee in the face. He reeled back.
Sam was coming around again.
This time, as Bucky fought, he maneuvered Sandhurst’s back toward Sam. Bucky couldn’t perfectly control his position, nor could he control how Sam came for him. But Bucky thought... there might be an opportunity.
Just as Sam reach them, Bucky executed his plan.
He couldn’t count on Sam’s exact movements, but he could count on where his wings would have to be as he came at them.
Bucky surged in close to Sandhurst, nearly cheek to cheek, and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.
Sam’s wing carved across Sandhurst’s back.
Sam was good about being in the right place at the right time.
When Sam saw Bucky hoist Sandhurst into his path, he leaned into it. He couldn’t do much, but he’d fought for a little mental wiggle room during the fight, and now he used every inch of it.
He felt his wing slice across Sandhurst’s ribs and through the spinal column of his exoskeleton.
“Yeah!” Sam shouted. He came around, and... he was flying under his own power.
He landed next to Bucky, shield up, ready to help finish the bastard.
Sam didn’t think he’d given a killing blow, though certainly the exoskeleton was done for, but Sandhurst lay on his face now, barely moving.
There was a long flesh wound diagonally across his back, but really little more than a scratch. It wasn’t much compared to what he’d taken before, like the bullet in the leg.
Bucky reached down and cracked off what remained of the exoskeleton. Hidden under one section of the metallic spine, was a disc. Sam’s wing had cut right through it.
Sandhurst coughed and rolled himself over onto his back, looking up at them. “I lost, but so did you. You never grasped the genius of my plan.” He bared his teeth. “I want to see it...”
They both frowned. Waited.
“What do you want to see?” Sam demanded. “Cause I’m pretty sure my friend here is ready to crush you the minute I give the word.”
Sandhurst blinked, looked at Sam in confusion. “My disc... it’s offline. You’re dead. You’re all dead.”
Sam looked at Bucky. “Do I look dead?”
Bucky was still breathing heavily. “Shockingly alive, actually. Darcy must’ve done it.”
Sandhurst’s eyes blazed. He began to rise and Bucky planted a foot on his chest. “Stay down.”
Up in the press box, Sarah was reporting to Darcy. “They got him down. Some blood but they look okay.”
Darcy exhaled long and slow, peering at the humming lines of communication visualized on her screen. “Sandhurst’s disc is definitely offline. You and I are okay; and Sam. That must mean it worked.” She tapped at the keyboard a couple more times. Her pointer finger hovered over the space bar. “The question is... I could reverse the failsafe back on him. His disc is offline but the explosive capability is still there. One tap and it’s done. He’s dangerous, for sure. But I know Jimmy would say we need to do it right—”
Sarah bumped Darcy’s hand out of the way. Slapped the button.
“Whoops,” Sarah said, deadpan. “My bad.”
End of Chapter 9
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Fireworks: Bucky x Sarah, Chapter 8
I had so much fun writing the next two chapters! I think I’ll post both today, since they really do go together. Happy Saturday!
Sarah heard Sandhurst’s voice in her head when he was ready to enact his plan.
She wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck—with relief more than anything—and they soared out of the wretched prison they’d been in all afternoon.
She was, of course, concerned about what was coming next, but the rush of wind against her sweaty skin was delicious. For a moment, she just closed her eyes and enjoyed it.
Her shirt fluttered and her braids swung. Fresh air!
They soared toward the football stadium where a sign said, “Home of the Cougars.”
She could hear the president speaking, “There are many who might be surprised at what I’m saying. There are many who want to stop this unification. They told me to cancel this event, they told me there’s a psychopath who wants to scare us into retreat. Into submission! But I said no.”
The crowd roared in approval.
“Don’t like this,” Sam murmured.
“He even got ahold of Captain America, but I said no. No terrorist will get the best of me, and he won’t get the best of you!”
Sam’s wings beat against the air as they rocketed over the press box. Bucky! She saw him standing on the roof in black, looking right at them. His hand was to his ear as he spoke.
He bent his knees. Would he jump up to grab them, to stop Sam?
At the last second, he shook his head, looking pained.
Sarah lost sight of him as Sam’s trajectory cut to the left. The only thing higher than the stadium were the huge racks of lights.
Sarah nearly screamed, thinking that Sandhurst was going to crash the two of them straight into the frames and glass and wiring. At the last second, with a burst of height, they swooped over and Sam dropped her.
This time Sarah did scream, but she only fell a few feet before landing hard on her back. There was a small platform with rails for those who needed to service the lights, and her teeth clanked together painfully as she hit.
Her momentum made her roll. She was going to fall again—!
But she was able to grab one of the poles of the railing. She dangled. She tried to get a better grip on the pole with her sweaty right hand. With her left, she grasped the edge of the platform.
Her feet kicked uselessly. Her hands burned. She could tell she didn’t have Sandhurst’s weird power keeping her hands attached. It was all her. If she let go, she would fall.
With a chill, she realized that if Sandhurst made her let go, she would also fall.
A panicked glance down showed that she was still far, far above the stands. Even if the people below wanted to catch her, it would be bad.
But it seemed to be chaos below. A few were pointing up to her. If they were screaming or yelling, she couldn’t tell. Her senses were centered in her hands.
Don’t let go.
Bucky’s heart nearly stopped when Sam dropped Sarah. He was already running the length of the press box as she screamed and nearly fell into the concrete stands far below her. He gauged the distance. His mind highlighted the ledges and angles he could use to get to her.
Sam was diving toward the stage.
Bucky knew, in a back part of his brain, that Sandhurst put Sarah in danger for this very reason. He assumed Bucky would spend valuable minutes ensuring her safety.
He was right.
Bucky jumped off the press box. He ran along the top of the third tier of stands.
But despite the chaotic noise of the crowd, now frightened and in danger of a crushing attempt to flee, he swore he could hear each shot by the secret service men as they began to fire at Sam.
They opened fire as Sam dove toward the stage. Monica was crouched over the president. Sam was using his shield to deflect bullets. Bucky didn’t think he’d been shot yet.
Damn Sandhurst for using Sam this way. For making Bucky choose.
Bucky sprinted along the edge of the curve of the stands until he was finally near the light.
The only comfort, as the firefight continued far below him and the crowd grew more panicked, was that Sam would unequivocally order him to save Sarah first.
Hang on, baby.
Sam fought Sandhurst’s control, but it was like sand in his eyes, like a splinter under a fingernail, like growing pains when he lay in bed as a kid—no matter how you tried, you just couldn’t get a handle on it.
It hurt, it ached, it itched... where the hell was it? It was a slippery clamp on his brain.
His only comfort was that he was unarmed. Sandhurst wasn’t making him fire at the president, or, heaven forbid, at the innocent crowd. Instead, Sandhurst had him swooping toward the stage and sometimes towards the press and nearby stands, but always back towards the president.
Sam’s flight grew jerkier and more perilous the longer it went. Was Sandhurst getting tired? Distracted? Where was he?
Bullets coming at him. Nearly impossible to scan the stadium.
Sam didn’t even realize right away that his hands were free. He was automatically using the shield to protect himself.
The president was still crouched on the stage, a woman huddled over him. Her body seemed to ripple fluidly.
“Get him out of here!” Sam shouted. Could anyone hear him over the din?
Bucky was nearly below Sarah. There were spindly metal rungs on the pole leading to the stadium lights.
He flew up them three at a time.
Didn’t bother to get on top of the platform. Used the poles and edges to go hand over hand to Sarah.
As her right hand slipped...
Bucky grabbed her wrist.
Sarah’s gaze was locked between her feet. The risers below her. This was going to hurt.
Her fingers were nearly numb from exhaustion. Couldn’t grip any tighter.
Her eyes clenched shut.
But instead of a rush and crunching pain, a warm hand locked around her wrist.
Sarah’s head snapped up.
“Hey, Sarah.” Bucky said. He hung from his metal arm, and his real hand was holding onto her. His smile was affectionate, warm.
From adrenaline, from fear, from joy, Sarah laughed. “Good—good timing,” she gasped. She also felt tears on her face.
“I’m good like that,” he grinned. “Okay, I’m going to raise you higher. Hold onto me, best as you can. Then I can swing us to the ladder.”
The muscles in his arms bulged as he raised her up. Sarah wasn’t short or light, but he didn’t seem to struggle. When she could, her free hand reached around his neck, he swung a little, and she wrapped her legs around his. He made sure her hands were locked around his neck, then shifted hand over hand to the ladder.
“Have to admit,” he said, his mouth near her ear, “this isn’t the worst.”
Bucky took them down the ladder as fast as possible. As much as he loved the feeling of Sarah wrapped around him, this wasn’t the moment, and he was horribly aware that Sandhurst might make her swan dive into the parking lot at any second.
At the bottom, with both their feet planted on a safe walkway, she breathed. “Oh, Bucky. I was scared.”
“I know.” Bucky smoothed a hand over her forehead and cheek. “It’s going to be alright.”
Bucky felt her body tense up. Her face froze.
Sandhurst was taking control again.
Bucky winced. “Sorry about this.” She didn’t have time to react before he stabbed the needle through the sleeve of her shirt, into her upper arm.
Her eyes flickered fearfully downward, but in a few seconds, her face relaxed and she slumped into him.
The sedative was fast acting. Sandhurst couldn’t do anything to her when she wasn’t conscious. Jimmy had passed out these quick-inject vials, with the plan to sedate anyone with a disc.
Bucky still wanted to get to Sam, but he had another job. He hoisted Sarah up and ran back toward the press box. “Darcy, I got a disc. I’m bringing it to you. You gotta figure out how to disable these things.”
Jimmy Woo knew when he was outclassed. Monica was protecting the president from stray ricochet bullets. Her body wavered occasionally; the president would be dead from friendly fire if not for her.
Jimmy’s chances of getting to Sam Wilson were slim to none—the man was darting down at them again and again like a bird of prey tearing strips of flesh from a carcass.
The aisles of the stadium were thronged with people. Others were trying to jump downward from row to row, but there were too many people. The tunnels that led out of each section were packed. People were being crushed against walls and railings. Somebody fell from an upper section.
Jimmy hunkered at the foot of the stage. He slithered up onto the stage and nearly into Monica’s arms. “I need this.” He grabbed the microphone headset the president wore and slid it off his head.
Sam whipped by. Jimmy dropped back to the grass field, narrowly avoiding beheading by shield.
He blew in the mic. It was live.
Holding the little wire up to his mouth, knowing this was probably stupid, but determined to try, he yelled, “QUIET!”
His voice echoed over the stadium, but he didn’t give himself time to freak out about it. He began to run—nearly double—toward the nearest edge of the field. “Quiet!” he said again.
The fight still continued, but unless he was much mistaken, the noise from the stands did seem to pause for a moment.
“This is the FBI. We will get everyone out! But a stampede will kill hundreds.” He knew not everyone could possibly hear him, but maybe enough would. “Don’t push. Don’t yell. Look around.”
He tried to remember the instructions he’d read about crowd control. “Look for children. Look for the elderly. Don’t let them fall.”
He knew crowds could be heroic. People were scared, they needed to be reminded. He saw that many other security—FBI, local police, national guard—were trying to direct the flow.
“There are officers near you. Wait your turn. If you’re falling, hold out your hands. If you see hands, pull them up.”
Jimmy climbed the stairs two at a time to the nearest stands where he saw a national guardsman.
Jimmy saw people looking around, shushing those around them.
He saw adults grabbing the hands of kids nearby, the kids who’d been brought for the meet-and-greet with the president.
He saw one man dangling from the highest level of the stands, but at least three people were pulling him back up.
He put the mic wire down. He was panting. The guardsman spared him only a quick glance. “Get back on it,” he snapped. “Keep talking.”
Jimmy took a deep breath.
Bucky got quickly back to the press box where Darcy was set up. He jerked open the glass door and maneuvered in sideways so as not to hit Sarah’s head. It was shockingly cold inside.
Darcy was typing furiously on her keyboard. Only her fingers weren’t quite on the keys. Was she fake typing?
Bucky frowned. “Darcy, can you get the disc off—”
She turned towards him, and he realized he’d missed the only clue he was going to get. Her eyes were panicked.
He was already too close.
She slapped a disc on his good arm, where it was wrapped around Sarah’s shoulders. His arms, full of Sarah...couldn’t block in time.
Sandhurst stepped out of the next room, a bloody bandage wrapped around his leg. “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”
End of Chapter 8
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all my comfort characters are bisexuals with severe trauma and I love that x
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Bucky x Sarah - The Nanny AU
Sarah is the rich widow with two kids to take care of. Bucky is the broke disabled veteran without any childcare experience but Sarah's children fall in love with his metal arm instantly.
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Okaaay,, so. Theory time.
When Bucky talks about his family, he says he has a sister - so we assume she is alive - right? OK, nothing new.
But how would she reacts when seeing her dead brother's face in the news during CA:CW?? And then again in TFATWS?? I mean, she is now very old but maybe a son or grandson comments his name during a table conversation, for example. He has the same name as their dead relative so it's a great coincidence, right? Wrong, it is him.
How would she react?? What would happen? Would she look for him?? Or just ??? Idk???
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Sarah: You can take the kids for a week, right?
Sam: Sure but why?
Bucky: I asked your sister to go on a vacation with me. We are sharing a cottage right by the water.
Sam: How convenient, Sarah. If Bucky annoys you too much you can drown yourself or even better... drown him.
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y'all he is 5-year-old kid in a 38-year-old body. 🤭🤭🤍🤍🤫🤫
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That puppy face 🥺
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you never loved her like i do.
note: eek here’s part 1!! i hope you enjoy and please leave any comments or feedback you have. i’d love to hear what you all think. reblogs are massively appreciated <3
warnings: angst, a lot of grieving, bucky being a sweetheart but reader not accepting his help, a lil bit of fluff, mentions of bad coping mechanisms lols
series masterlist || main masterlist
After the night spent in your apartment, surrounded by Steve’s possessions, you throw yourself back into working. You plan missions, you organise paperwork, you hold everybody together. Especially Peter. You console him regularly, often sitting with him and just letting him cry to you about his problems and his grief from losing Tony. You’re constantly checking up on Pepper and Morgan, running errands and collecting anything that they happen to need. You become the backbone for the remaining members of the team - the glue that holds them all together. And for the most part, the facade that you’re wearing is foolproof; everybody thinks that you’re coping amazingly well, and they’re all grateful for it.
Except Bucky. He sees straight through you. His enhanced hearing and senses detect every hitch in your breath, every race of your heartbeat, every hushed sob in the night. You don’t think he notices that you never go home to your apartment; instead you stay at the compound, working until the crack of dawn, and only when you’re sure everybody else is asleep, do you allow yourself to break. Because they need you. You have to be strong. For them.
And you push Bucky away. Every night he knocks on your door, begging you to stop overworking yourself, to get some sleep. And every night he receives the same answer.
Until one day he’s had enough of it. He’s had enough of watching you take care of everybody but yourself. Dark purple bags appear under your eyes and he’s sure you haven’t eaten in days. So when he comes to you during the night and begs you to rest, receiving the same answer he always does, he doesn’t leave. Instead, he hauls you up from your seat, throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to his room. And you put up a serious fight - thrashing, kicking and screaming. But he doesn’t let up. Damn that super strength of his.
“Bucky, fucking put me down!” you scream, pummeling your fists into his back as he strides to his bedroom. Not that it affects him at all.
“No, doll. You need to sleep.” His voice is stern, not leaving any room for arguments. Placing you gently onto the mattress, he sits himself down next to you on the bed and takes your hands in his. You try to shy away from the contact but he only holds you tighter.
“I’m tired of you not taking care of yourself.” Rolling your eyes, you wrench yourself out of his grip and stand, making for the door. However, he’s faster than you and in two long strides he’s already blocking your means of escape.
“This is ridiculous. I’m fine! Why are you being like this?” You clench your jaw in an attempt to halt the waver in your voice.
“Because I’m worried about you.” His voice is light, gentle and so, so concerned, and it makes you feel unworthy. You don’t deserve to have somebody care for you like this, especially not him. The pained expression painted across your face catches Bucky’s attention and he reaches out for you, his expression mirroring yours as you jerk away from his touch.
“No. Stop.” A lump rises in your throat and you try your best to push it down, but Bucky notices. He always notices.
“Baby. Come on.”
“Bucky.” Your voice comes out as a thin whimper and you stagger away from him, collapsing in on yourself as tears start to trail down your cheeks. Your body shakes violently as you try to shield yourself from him when he advances slowly towards you. Crouching next to you, he holds his arms open for you. And when you make no effort to move towards him, he speaks to you in a low voice.
“Doll, Steve wouldn’t have wanted this for you.” A sob rips through your whole body at that and when you speak, your voice is laced with heartbreak and anger.
“You think Steve gave a shit about me? He’s gone! He never cared about me.”
“You and I both know that’s not true.” Bucky whispers, his voice barely audible. “Come on, at least sleep for tonight.” You blanch at Bucky’s words and your muscles draw taut.
“I can’t, Buck.”
“I know it’s hard, but I want to help you.”
“You shouldn’t have to! You have your own shit going on and I’m just in the way. I can take care of myself.” You push yourself up from your place on the floor and head for the door once again. Bucky’s vibranium fingers wrap around your wrist and swivel you back around to face him.
“James, let go of me.”
“Let me help you.” he pleads, his eyes oozing with desperation. He pulls you against his chest and pushes your hair out of your face.
“I don’t need help. I’m fine.” And you’re sure you are, because Steve’s coming back, right? Bucky’s eyes soften, almost as if he’s read your mind, and you slump against his body, hiding your face in his t-shirt. You both know that you’re not okay, you’re just not ready to admit it to yourself yet.
“Will you just sit with me for a little while then?” Bucky mumbles into your hair and you nod almost imperceptibly. You can’t say no to him and he knows it. Entwining your fingers, he leads you to the bed and lays down, tugging at your arm impatiently.
“‘M comin’, Buck. Just wait.” As soon as you hit the mattress, Bucky pulls you flush against him and for the first time, you don’t shy away from the touch, but rather lean into it. You’ve forgotten how cold the bed is at night without Steve.
And Bucky is not Steve by any means, but they’re so similar that sometimes you forget for a split second. Their mannerisms are the same, the way they walk, the way they hold themselves. But in other respects, they’re so strikingly different. Bucky is less assertive, less headstrong. But he has a sense of humour that contrasts heavily with Steve’s. More witty and sarcastic. He’s fun to be around; there’s never a dull moment, and you can’t help but laugh when you’re in his company. And he’s so caring. Always checking up on you, even when he’s struggling himself. You don’t deserve him.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out small and weak - everything you’re trying to avoid being.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t make him stay. I’m sorry that he left you.” Your bottom lip quivers wildly and you cover your face with your hand. Bucky only pries it away, meeting your eyes with his own tear-filled ones.
“It’s not your fault.” His voice never comes out at more than a whisper for fear of him completely breaking down.
“Maybe if I was more-,”
“No. Baby, no. It was his decision, not yours.”
“I know it was. I just can’t help but feel like- like I could’ve stopped him i-if he loved me more. If I was better for him, you know?” Bucky just shushes you and wipes your tears tenderly, wrapping the blankets around you both as you curl your body into his, moulding you together.
And that’s the first night since Steve leaving that you allow yourself to feel it. The gaping wound he’s left in your heart that you’re desperately trying to repair.
You spend all night in bed with Bucky. He wipes your tears and you wipe his. He rubs soothing circles into your bare skin and whispers sweet nothings into the empty silence. You card your fingers through his wild hair and press tender kisses to the top of his head. And you hold each other together, desperately trying to fill the cracks Steve’s absence has left in both of you, willing the pain to subside, even for a short moment.
Eventually, Bucky’s eyes droop shut and his breath evens out. And when sleep overcomes him, you slip out of the bed quietly in favour of sitting by the open window. You watch for hours as the stars brighten and fade, and you hope that Steve is up there somewhere. You beg the sky, whoever may be up there, to bring him back to you.
“Please bring him back.” you beg, although deep down you know it’s in vain.
Bucky hears your voice, choked with melancholy, ring through the otherwise silent room, and his heart breaks even more. But he never mentions it. He knows it would only make you feel worse if he heard this side of you - so open and vulnerable and so terribly broken.
Soon enough, the sun peeks out from behind the skyline and you start the day all over again, pretending that the night before was nothing more than a dream.
Bucky still checks up on you, as he does every day. And you tell him the same thing you always do.
“I’m fine, Buck.” You rub his shoulder comfortingly, and offer him a smile, although it’s small and sad and doesn’t reach your eyes.
But you’re not fine. And sometimes you forget that Steve is gone.
Sometimes you’ll reach out to hold his hand before you can stop yourself, and you’ll grasp only air. That sinking feeling in your stomach is like no other - the most hopeless, gut-wrenching feeling you have ever experienced. It makes you want to scream and cry and throw tantrum after tantrum because this isn’t fair. But you don’t. You take a deep breath and swallow your tears, pushing back that overwhelming sorrow sitting heavily in your chest, and you carry on.
You still look for him everywhere. In your favourite coffee shop you used to go to, in all of his favourite places. You naturally gravitate to wherever he is - except he’s not there anymore. Sometimes, you reach out for him during the night before remembering that he’s gone; instead of finding his warm body to curl up next to, all you find is cold and empty space that taunts you, saying: he’s gone, he’s not here, he left you.
And slowly but surely, the grief takes over your everyday life too, finally too much to handle and conceal. You have to excuse yourself from briefings and meetings in order to hold yourself together. You lock yourself away from everybody. You rarely speak unless it’s out of necessity. The truth is, you don’t really know how to live without Steve. He’s been there for every step of your time with the Avengers. Every fight, every mission, every moment. You don’t know how life works without him around. He was your lifeline, your motivation, your everything. And now that he’s gone, you’re not so sure what you’re carrying on for. You start to crumble from the inside out.
Bucky’s worried out of his mind. But every time he brings it up, you dismiss it.
But soon enough, you become increasingly irritable, the littlest things setting you off. You shout at Peter after something minute triggers you, accidentally making him cry. Which makes you cry too. Bucky steps in, whispering apologies at Peter as he ushers him out of the room.
“Sorry, kid. She didn’t mean it, she’s just havin’ a hard time right now. You understand that don’t you?”
“Peter, I’m so sor-sorry.” you hiccup through sobs, burying your face in your hands.
“It’s okay, Y/N. I know you didn’t mean it.” he sniffles back before wandering off. Bucky scoops you up into his arms and holds you close as you cry and scream. You cry until you can’t anymore, until your throat is raw and your face is swollen. His grip on you never loosens; you ball a handful of his shirt in your fist, clinging to him as he murmurs soft reassurances into your skin.
“It’s okay. I’m here. ‘M not goin’ anywhere, doll.”
Once your sobs cease, he carries you to his room once again and lays you down on the soft mattress; you don’t fight. He crawls under the blankets next to you and you don’t even make an attempt to acknowledge him. You just feel numb. Like all of the emotions you possess have been drained out of you, leaving you with this god-awful feeling of emptiness.
“I don’t know why I’m doing this anymore, Buck.” you whisper, breaking the tense silence standing between you two.
“Y’know, just anything. I don’t know why I’m even here anymore.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Nobody needs me here. Peter’s gonna graduate soon. Sam’s taken up the shield so well. You’ve got your pardon and a fresh start as a civilian. And I…”
“You what, sweetheart?” he urges gently. You visibly cringe at the pet name. That particular name holds too many memories. Bucky makes a mental note not to say it again.
“I’m the same as I’ve always been. Except now I don’t know what to do. Not without him.” Bucky reaches down and intertwines his fingers with yours, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“I know you love him. I do too. But we’ll be okay. We can do this without him.”
“You think so?”
“I know so, babydoll. We’re gonna be fine.” You shuffle closer to him in the bed, wrapping your arms around his muscular torso and burying your face into the crook of his neck. You mumble apologies to him quietly.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away.” you murmur, “I know you we’re trying to help, and I jus’ made things worse.”
“Shh, you didn’t make anything worse. I’m here now. That’s all that matters.” He snakes an arm around your waist, holding you against him, and you sigh into the contact, starting to grow drowsy. “That’s it, just sleep.” Bucky coos, his eyes also growing heavy.
And as you fall asleep, for the first time in a long while, you have a new sense of hope. That maybe you will be okay. Because you have Bucky.
So you allow yourself to fall asleep in his embrace, feeling assured that he’ll be there when you wake up. He won’t leave you. He kisses the top of your head before drifting off and you both fall asleep holding each other, a mess of entangled limbs and soft snores.
series taglist: @belladonnabarnes @blackberrybucky @ceo-of-daichi @bakugouswh0r3 @heavenhatesme @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @hails270105 @hocusbowie @louisetheblue @quinnmaddie @leyannrae @josiewinters1999 @superavengerpotterstar @chynagirl113 @lovelyladymayyy @mariusprincess-blog @gloryekaterina @lakamaa12 @sociallyantisocialbutterfly @jessyballet @naturalswifty89 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @lizasaurus-purple-edition @iilwcre @ginger-swag-rapunzel @stumbleonmywords @sergeantbuckybarnes @stressbye @impala1967666 @s-r-clowns @poetbarnes @hurricane-abigail @intothesoul @austynparksandpizza
permanent taglist: @xoxonotme @halis-world @simplyemm @sohoseb @illwjbb @fanofalltheficsx
bucky taglist: @melchills-j @bean-exe-hasstopped @aya-fay @grumpyashhh
(if your user is crossed out, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you! check your privacy settings)
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He's also a soft boy who must be protected at all costs 💖💞💕
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Blueberries & Chocolate Chips
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: tooth rotting fluff
Note: Happy Mother’s Day to all the baby mommas, the fur mommas, the plant mommas, and all the momma’s in between!
You woke up to the sound of giggles floating through the open door of your bedroom, and the sound instantly tugged the corner of your lips into a sleepy smile. You slipped from bed, stretching your hands over your head and chasing the grogginess away before quietly padding down the hall to the kitchen where you’d find the source of the happy giggles.
You paused in the mouth of the hallway, leaning against the wall and taking in the sight before you. Amongst a mess of pots and pans and mixing bowls was your boyfriend and daughter, whispering and giggling and causing general mayhem in your apartment’s small kitchen.
You had introduced Bucky to Lucy only five weeks ago, but they were already thick as thieves.
Lucy was perched on Bucky’s hip, his metal arms holding her securely in place as he moved around the kitchen, searching the cupboards - for what, you didn’t know - and quietly asking Lucy if she wanted blueberries or chocolate chips in her pancakes.
When you had met the super soldier six months ago, you never in your wildest dream pictured the scene that was playing out in front of you. Sure, there was an instant attraction between you and Bucky when you met him in the bar that night, but you both had some very prominent baggage; you had a young daughter from a failed past relationship and more student debt than you wanted to think about, and Bucky- well, he had a lot of demons that he was working through.
And somehow, despite the baggage, what you had thought would be a one night stand turned into the best relationship you’d ever been in, one that was full of honesty and trust and understanding (and pretty mindblowing sex, but that was neither here nor there).
Despite some initial hesitation to introduce Bucky to Lucy after you’d decided to give a real relationship a try, you pretty quickly realized that you had absolutely nothing to worry about. Like most people that spent a decent amount of time around the four-year-old, Bucky was very quickly wrapped around her tiny finger.
He brought her a teddy bear the first time he met her, and if that hadn’t been enough, Bucky spent hours coloring pictures of Disney princesses with her while singing along to the soundtracks from Moana and Frozen while you cleaned up from dinner. You decided you loved him then and there, and Lucy seemed to feel the same, asking if ‘Bucky could come play with her again tomorrow’ that night when you tucked her in for bed.
The man was attractive as hell, funny, helped save the world a couple times (no big deal), and great with your daughter. He was the total package, right? Not to toot your own horn, but you were pretty damn proud of yourself for snagging James Buchanan Barnes.
Your silent observation of Bucky and your daughter was brought to an end when Lucy finally took notice of you.
“Mommy!” she greeted happily, tapping Bucky on the shoulder to gain his attention to pointing to the other side of the room at you. “Mommy’s awake.”
Bucky turned to face you, a spatula in his hand. “So she is,” he noted with a smile. “We were planning to bring you breakfast in bed, doll.”
You raised your brows, pointing over your shoulder with your thumb. “I can always go back to bed,” you offered. “I don’t want to ruin your fun.”
“Nah,” Bucky said with a small wave of the spatula, as if he were shooing your suggestions away. He nodded his head towards the stools at the island. “Take a seat, doll. Watch us work our magic.”
“Your magic, huh?” You did as you were told, sitting at the counter and folding your arms in front of you on the granite surface. “And just what makes it so magical?”
“Love, Mommy!” Lucy answered excitedly. “Do you want blueberries or chocolate chips?” Her repetition of Bucky’s earlier question had you and he sharing soft smiles. “Bucky says blueberries are better, but I think chocolate chips are better.”
“Maybe Mommy can be the tie breaker,” Bucky suggested, an amused twinkle in his blue eyes.
You raised a brow at him. “Is that right?” You feigned deep thought, drumming your fingers on your chin before grinning at the pair. “I don’t know, Lu. Maybe some coffee will help Mommy think better.”
“Coming right up, doll,” Bucky told you before shuffling over to the coffee pot. You could hear the two whispering to one another as they prepared your coffee just how you like it, and the sight - the absolute domesticity of it - made you feel so warm and fuzzy inside and holy shit you loved this man so much. “One cup of coffee for the pretty lady.”
Lucy giggled as she pushed the mug of coffee across the counter towards you, splashes of liquid spilling from the mug from her less than careful actions. “Blueberries or chocolate chips, Mommy?”
You hummed, considering your options. “What about blueberry and chocolate chips?”
Her big doe eyes widened in surprise. “You can do that? Bucky, I want blueberries and chocolate chips like Mommy!” He nodded his agreement, and looked at you, his eyes crinkling in amusement before the pair turned their attention back to the pancake batter to add the requested sweets and fruit.
You smiled into your coffee as Bucky and Lucy laughed at his failed attempt to make a Mickey Mouse shaped pancake. Watching him with your daughter was very, very quickly becoming your favorite past-time. Who would’ve thought that the super soldier was a big teddy bear beneath all the muscle and gruffness?
You continued to watch them with rapt attention as they worked together to make breakfast, and within ten minutes, the three of you were sat around the small table in the kitchen, enjoying your breakfast together. While blueberries and chocolate chips didn’t go together as well as you had hoped when you made the suggestion, Lucy had a bright smile on her face as she happily shoveled the syrupy pancakes into her mouth.
It made you smile, and seeing you smile made Bucky smile.
His hand found yours under the table, his thumb tracing lazy patterns over the back of your hand. “Happy Mother’s Day, doll,” he breathed, leaning in to brush his lips against yours in a chaste kiss.
“Ew,” your daughter giggled as she watched you and Bucky. “Kissing is gross! You’re gonna get cooties, Mommy!”
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summary: Bucky’s cat alpine passed away, and you knew just the thing to help cheer him up.
word count: 1382
warning: brief talk ab pet death, but nothing else after that <3
Bucky was having a very difficult time, his beloved cat Alpine, had passed away a few months ago. You hated how upset Bucky was about it, but you understood his pain. Alpine had been his best friend, and you were blessed to have known him the last few years of his precious life.
You had done your best taking care of Bucky, making sure that he didn’t get too caught up in his thoughts because you knew he was prone to do that. You two were currently sitting on your shared couch in your apartment, watching the tv but not really paying attention.
Bucky had his head in your lap, your fingers lazily combed through his brown locks, humming softly as he had his eyes on the tv. He sighed heavily, making you look down and meet his gaze. You knew something was up.
“What’s up, my love?” You combed his hair, scratching his scalp softly, earning another gasp from him. He looked up at you and crossed his fingers across his chest.
“Just miss Alpine,” He shrugged his shoulders, looking back over to the tv that was on a commercial. You continued to play with his hair, twisting the locks through your fingers and feeling the silk texture of his curls run through your fingers.
“I know, honey.” You frowned as he closed his eyes taking another deep breath, before sitting up, resting his forehead on your shoulder. You felt your sleeve feel wet to the touch before you noticed Bucky was crying. You held his face with your hand, rubbing his cheek with your thumb, humming softly in attempts to smooth him. He sniffled, sitting up and looking down.
“I- I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t meant to get your shirt wet.” He chuckled sadly, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. You shrugged, sitting towards him and grabbing his face with your hands. You didn’t care about your shirt, you cared more about the man you loved in front of you, hurting.
“It’s okay, silly. I have plenty of shirts. I care about you, more.” You rubbed his cheek again, catching a stray tear that fell down his face. You brought his face into yours and settled on a kiss, earning a low hum from him.
You pulled back and brought his hands into yours, the rough texture of his fingers grazing over your soft skin, thinking of all the mission he went on and how he earned those callouses. Thinking about what you could do for Bucky, a thought popped into your mind.
“Hey, I don’t know what your thoughts are on tattoos, but I have an artist who could do a tribute tattoo for Alpine, so he’s always with you.” He looked up at you, a sad smile showing. Your body was covered in different tattoos, and you knew Bucky loved each and every one of them, as he often found himself tracing the outlines of them just like he was doing right now to the heart one on your wrist.
He shrugged, and you could feel he was hesitant. Getting up, you went to the kitchen and opened a drawer, rummaging through the papers looking for something specific until you found it and pulled it out, showing Bucky.
“You could get this, right on your wrist. Like he’s always holding your hand with his paw.” You and Bucky had gotten a thing where you could press your cats paw against a piece of paper, and it inked the shape onto a piece of paper. It was Alpine’s paw, you had gotten it done a few months after you met him. His eyes lit up at the idea, getting up from the couch and nodding his head eagerly. He had never gotten a tattoo, admittedly afraid of needles even though he has a whole ass metal arm.
“Go get dressed, love. I’ll call my artist right now.” You walked over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, the stubble scratching your soft lips as he smiled and you felt his cheeks move. He walked into the bedroom to change while you called up your artist.
You both arrived to the shop about an hour later, having to coax Bucky’s nerves the entire way. He told you he had never gotten a tattoo nor had ever even thought of one, as the needles scared him too much. You reassured him that it would be a bit painful, but it would sting and would go away in a few hours.
As you guys entered the shop, your artist said hello to you, ushering you back to his spot, and having Bucky sit on the chair. You pulled out the paper with Alpine’s paw on it, handing it over to your artist.
“First time for a tattoo?” Your artist asked as they made a copy for an outline and Bucky nervously nodded. They smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, reassuringly. They were covered in tattoos just like you, same piercings and everything.
“It’ll be okay, I’ll start off a little, ask how you’re feeling and we can go from there. Don’t hesitate to let me know if it’s too much, alright?” They pressed the stencil to Bucky’s right wrist, peeling the paper off and showing him.
“That look good?” He nodded as he looked at Alpine’s paw print on his wrist, smiling. You sat down next to him, hand resting on his thigh and squeezing lightly. He looked over and met your gaze, excitement but nervousness swimming through his baby blues. He held onto your hand with his metal hand, squeezing as he heard the tattoo gun start up.
“Here we go, let me know if you need a break, okay?” He nodded his head and your artist got to work. Bucky flinched at first as soon as the tattoo gun made contact with his skin, but as soon as it kept going, he got used to the pain. It wasn’t as bad as he was hyping it up in his head, but it did still sting.
He flexed his hand in yours, squeezing when the tattoo gun went over one of his bigger veins, breathing in through his nose, out his mouth just like you told him too. You looked up at him as he had his eyes closed, and back down at the tattoo that was nearly done.
“You’re doing so well, Buck.” He loved hearing you praise him, and the assurance helped him breath steady as the tattoo gun went over another vein.
A few minutes had passed and the tattoo gun clicked off, Bucky opening his eyes and looking down at the tattoo. It was perfect, he hadn’t seen so much detail go into a tattoo before, and he loved that it matched the original to a T. They wiped off the extra ink, and looked up at him.
“What do we think?” They chewed their lip as Bucky just stared at his tattoo, smiling softly.
“It looks so good, I love it.” They clapped their hands, happy that their client loved their first tattoo. They grabbed some wrap, and purple gauze and wrapped his wrist so it would be protected. They went over aftercare, but knew you’d help him take care of it.
You paid for the tattoo, thanking your artist and made a future appointment for yourself and grabbed Bucky’s hand, walking out and heading home.
“You did so well, it looks so good. You love it?” He looked over at you as you two were hand in hand deciding to walk home, nodding his head. He stopped and pulled you close, hands wrapped around your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck lazily. He kissed you softly, smiling against your mouth.
“It’s perfect. Thank you for taking me, doll.” You smiled as you pulled him in for another kiss, pleased with yourself that he loved his first ever tattoo.
“Now he will be with you, forever.” You kissed his nose as he chuckled, lifting you up and twirling you around before setting you back down on your feet. Bucky was so happy with his tattoo, and his heart felt a little lighter knowing he had Alpine’s paw on him forever, having a piece of him wherever he went.
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Fastdrawingfastdrawingfastdrawing!!!! Female winter soldier!!!
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I'm watching the Sarah x Bucky tags slowly die out but you know what? You can't stop me. I will keep spamming.
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