#bucky barnes appears in this for like 2 seconds

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Got My Doll Back » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Enhanced!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America, Sam Wilson/Falcon, and Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow

Summary: Bucky gets his wife back after thinking that she was dead for years.

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentions of past memories & trauma, fighting, crying, kissing, pet names (doll)

A/N: Y/N has the same powers as Wanda.

A/N #2: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for helping find the first aesthetic picture🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“These 4 people are your mission. Get these 3 out of the way.” Pierce shows you pictures of Captain America, the Falcon, and Black Widow. “And bring the Winter Soldier back to us alive. Understand?” He says, showing you a picture of the Winter Soldier.

“I understand, sir.” You reply.

Alarms at the base you’re at went off, along with a flashing red light in the room. Pierce went to the security system to see four people walking through the hallways of the base separately. Pierce chuckles and smirks before turning to face you.

“This mission may be easier than we thought. Go to the south end of the base and bring the Winter Soldier to the room.” He tells you.

You nodded and headed towards the door. An agent opened it for you. You headed to the south side of the base. Your walk was cut short when you heard a woman’s voice. You turned around to see a woman with red hair and wearing a black mission suit, one of your targets. She rose one of her arms, getting ready to shoot one of her widow bites at you. Your powers glowed red in your right hand, along with your eyes glowing red. She began to walk towards you, but you used your powers to throw her against the wall, making her groan in pain when she landed on the floor. You ran away from her before she could get up and get you.

“Rogers, Barnes, Wilson. There’s a woman wearing all black with a red jacket is going to the south side of the base. She’s enhanced.” Natasha says into her ear piece.

“I’m on it!” Sam replies, running to the south side.

You rounded the corner to see your second target causing you to stop in your tracks, seeing a man standing across from you.

“I’m not about to fight a woman so let’s do this the easy way.” Sam says.

“That’s a shame.” You say, slightly tilting your head.

Your eyes turned red, along with a ball of red appearing in your hand. You threw it at him causing him to fall to the floor. You ran past him to find your other two targets.

“She’s going east now!” Sam says into his ear piece.

“I see her!” Bucky replies.

Bucky shoots at you. You quickly ducked to the floor to avoid the bullet. You chuckled and stood up with your back facing him.

“Got outsmarted by a woman, didn’t you, Soldat?” You say.

Bucky froze and his eyes went wide. The voice sounds all too familiar. It sounds like someone he knows. Someone from his past.

Steve rounded the corner and caught up to Bucky. He waved his hand in front of his face to snap him out of his thoughts.

“Bucky!” Steve shook him. “Did she do something to you?” He asks.

“N-No.” Bucky stutters.

Steve looks at you to see you facing away from him and Bucky.

“Turn around.” Steve orders.

Steve got his shield ready as you chuckled and turned around.

“You know, the last man who ordered me around, got thrown off of a building. I’m sure you don’t want that to happen to you, Captain.” You say, slowly turning around.

You looked up to see the two men with surprised looks on their faces. Bucky put his gun in the hostler and Steve lowered his shield.

“Oh my god.” Steve says, completely speechless.

“Y/N?” Bucky says with hopefulness in his voice.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head to the side.

“Who the hell is Y/N?” You say.

Bucky couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His wife from the 40s was standing a few feet away from him. He slowly approached you which was a mistake on his part cause the next thing he knew was being thrown into the wall. Steve threw his shield at you, but you stopped it with your powers. It fell to the floor in front of you.

“Listen here, Captain and Soldat, but I’m not who you guys think I am.” You say.

Bucky stood up from the ground in time to see your eyes glowing red and a red light glow in your hands, making his eyes to widen.

“I was given a mission and I need to finish it. I’m sure you can relate to that, Soldat.” You say.

Before you could use your powers on them, you felt shocks to the back of your neck causing your body to tense up and lose consciousness. Bucky was quick to catch you before you hit the floor.

“While you two were busy dilly dallying with her, me and Sam got the file.” Natasha says, holding up the file.

Bucky moved your hair from your face to get a closer look at your face causing his breath to hitch in his throat and his eyes to tear up.

“What did they do to you, doll?” Bucky asks, talking more to himself.

Sam and Natasha furrowed their eyebrows in confusion as they looked down at Bucky.

“Doll? Barnes, do you know this woman?” Natasha asks.

“He’ll explain later. We need to get out of here.” Steve says.

Bucky stood up with you in his arms and carried you to the quinjet, holding you like his life depends on it.

A couple hours later, you woke up in a room that you didn’t recognize. You looked around the room, gathering your surroundings. Your eyes landed on a man sleeping in a chair next to the bed you’re in.

“Hello?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky woke up immediately. A smile grew on his face when he seen that you’re awake.

“Thank god you’re awake.” Bucky says relieved.

He reaches to grab your hand, but you backed away from him. You felt yourself beginning to panic.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He says in a reassuring voice.

You took a moment to yourself to think. You felt yourself starting to become overwhelmed, your breathing became uneven.

“Wh-Where am I?” You asked, looking around the room again.

“My apartment.” He tells you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself down. That’s when memories flooded your brain. Visions of a man appeared in your mind. The man looks exactly like the man sitting next to you. You opened your eyes and looked at the man. There was a few different features about this man compared to the man in your vision. He has long hair, stubble, and a metal arm.

“I know you from somewhere, but I don’t know where.” You say.

“Take your time. It’ll come to you.” He says softly.

You took your time and thought. You kept thinking until your head started pounding by more memories flowing back into your mind. You put your hands on the sides of your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You jumped slightly when you felt a hand on your back, but you didn’t move away. When your head stopped pounding, you opened your eyes and looked up at the man with tears in your eyes. It didn’t take long for you to realize that the man next to you is your husband.

“Bucky?” You say in almost a whisper.

“It’s me, doll. It’s your Bucky.” He says with a smile.

Tears spilled from your eyes as you hugs him. Bucky pulled you onto his lap, holding you close to him. His eyes teared up. Bucky never thought he would get the chance to see or hold his wife again.

“I missed you so much.” You cried against his chest.

“I missed you too, doll.” Bucky says, tears rolled down his cheeks.

You sniffled and looked up at your husband, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was told to—” Bucky silenced you with a kiss.

“You didn’t hurt me.” Bucky says, looking into your eyes.

“I-I blasted you with my powers.” You say.

“It wasn’t you, doll.” He says, cupping your cheeks.

You shivered when you felt cool metal against your skin.

“What happened to your left arm?” You asked with concern in your voice while looking at his metal arm.

Bucky didn’t want to upset with the details of how he really lost his left arm so he came up with a different way to tell you what happened.

“I got hurt years ago and when I woke up, I had this.” He explains, showing you his metal arm.

Bucky watched as you carefully touched it, watching as your fingers traced the plates of it.

“I’m sorry for hurting your friends with my powers.” You say, feeling ashamed for your actions.

“They’ll understand that it wasn’t you, doll.” Bucky says.

“I didn’t hurt Steve, did I?” You asked.

“No you didn’t.” He says.

You smiled to yourself, knowing that you didn’t hurt your best friend.

“Is it ok if I see Steve and meet your friends?” You asked.

“Of course.” He smiles.

You got off the bed and followed closely behind Bucky while holding his hand as he led you to the living room where Steve, Sam, and Natasha are.

“Someone would like to see you guys.” Bucky says to them.

You slowly stepped out from behind Bucky and looked at everyone.

“Do you remember me?” Steve asks, trying his best not to overstep.

“How could I forget my best friend?” You say.

Steve smiles as you approached him to give him a hug. You looked at the two people standing next to him.

“I’m sorry for hurting you guys.” You tell them.

“It’s ok. We understand.” Sam says.

“Don’t worry about it.” Natasha says.

All of you talked for a while until you got tired and wanted to go to bed.

“I’m happy that I got my doll back.” Bucky says, making you smile.

You smiled and laid your head on his chest and played with his dog tags.

“I love you, Bucky.” You say sleepily.

“I love you too, doll.” He almost whispers. “Get some rest.” He says.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course I will. I’m never leaving you out of my sight again.” He says, leaning down and kissed you passionately.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

#sergeant james buchanan barnes #sergeant james barnes #sergeant barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes #winter soldier #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #avengers #marvel #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x wife!reader #bucky barnes x enhanced!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine

[writerslittlelibrary]

So, I'm not a prisoner?

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra

summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…

pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader

warnings: fighting, weapons, stabbing, blood, implied sexual abuse

genre: fluff, angst

words: 3073

a/n: I wanted to do a fic like this for so long!!!! anyway, I just kept scouting tumblr trying to find fics like this, so I figured I’d finally write one myself :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

A quick in and out. That was your mission. How on earth did you manage to screw it up so bad. In and out. Assassinate the traitor and come right back. 

Dreykov would’ve been so proud. 

But that didn’t happen. No. Every single aspect about that night failed to go according to plan. You snuck into the event Stark had hosted, was able to blend in with the other party goers, and you were able to hide when most of the people started to leave. 

Once it was just the Avengers left, you stayed in your hiding spot, observing them. You were here to kill Natasha Romanoff, and Natasha Romanoff only. 

You could not afford any casualties, so you had it all planned out. 

You’d wait until the Avengers would leave, and you’d take Natasha out before she could make it to her living quarters. You knew that once she made it to the living space of the Avengers tower, getting to her would be a lot harder. 

However, against all odds, Natasha excused herself from the group quite early, saying she wanted to get a good nights sleep. 

You internally cursed yourself, hating that this wasn’t something that you had planned for. 

Around the couches were still some Avengers sat. You recognised all of them. Clint Barton shouldn’t be too much trouble. He was only a guy who’s good with a bow. For Maria Hill could be said the same thing, except she’s very skilled with a gun.

No, you were worried about the other Avengers still seated. Tony Stark could call upon his armour in mere seconds. Thor had the power of thunder for god’s sake. Wanda Maximoff has exceptional powers, and therefor, if you were to attack with her still in the room, you’d be immobilised in an instant. 

You were fairly certain you didn’t need to worry much about Bruce Banner. Sure, he could turn into the Hulk, but he didn’t turn often, and lately, the Hulk hasn’t been spotted in the battlefield, meaning he probably had many trouble turning into him. 

Pietro Maximoff shouldn’t bring you a lot of trouble either. 

Your main concern were Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. One Super Soldier you could handle, but two? While fighting the rest of the Avengers? That wasn’t going to work. 

Lucky for you, Wanda Maximoff had excused herself from the gathering a while ago. If you didn’t make to much noise, she wouldn’t be much of a problem. You could be outside before she’d even make it to the party deck. 

Your original plan was to just wait. Natasha Romanoff would have usually sat through a party until far into the evening. You’d know, you’ve been watching her for weeks. 

However, now that Romanoff has announced she was returning to her bedroom, a slight panic ran through your body. 

Dreykov gave your 5 weeks to finish this assignment. That’s longer than any assignment you’d ever been on. You could not disappoint him with this. You had to kill the traitor. 

You figured now was your only chance, and so, as Natasha Romanoff made her way towards the elevator, you followed her. 

However, not even to your surprise, she stopped in the middle of the hallway. 

“You know I’m an assassin, too? You’re good, but you’re not un noticeable,” she states, calmly turning around, being met with a gun to your face. The moment she stopped, you were wise enough to draw your gun, holding her at gunpoint for any sudden movements. 

You could see a slight surprise appear on her face, before her face returned to her poker face once again. 

“You’re just a child…” Natasha spoke slowly, seeming almost disappointed. 

“You’re a traitor,” you spoke, loading the gun, taking a step closer. Natasha simply shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she spoke, before leaping towards you. You shot your gun, but Natasha was too fast, avoiding your gunfire as she ran past you, back to the other Avengers. 

How on earth could you have missed that shot? She was right there.

Pathetic. 

You don’t hesitate to run after her, determined to finish this tonight. 

Very much not to your surprise, the moment you run back into the party hall, the Avengers are already standing up and ready. Ready to fight you.

You don’t hesitate to move forwards, and after fighting Clint Barton for mere seconds, you quickly realise they have no intention of hurting you. You could use that to your advantage, and you do.

You kick Barton hard, leaving him on the floor, heaving for air as you move forward, taking on Maria. 

However, the moment you get close to Maria, two strong arms wrap around your body, pulling you back. They’re holding you tightly, and it doesn’t feel like they’re planning to let go. 

You struggle in the hold, fighting against who ever is holding you as you try to break free. A small panic runs through your body. The fear of being captured by the Avengers taking place in your mind. You do not fear the Avengers, but the thought of being seen as a traitor by Dreykov hurts your heart more than words could describe. 

“Stop struggling. We can help you,” you hear a voice behind you speak, and you soon come to realise the person you’re fighting is Captain America himself. 

No wonder you couldn’t get loose. 

Knowing it’s a Super Soldier, you’re quick to outsmart him, making him think you’re getting tired, relaxing your body is his hold. Because of this, the Captain lightens his grip a bit, giving you enough room to wiggle your arm free, moving it backwards to hit him in the face with your elbow. 

Because of the surprise, he lets you go, allowing you to stand again. 

The moment your feet hit the ground, you dash forward, holding up your knife as you use everyone’s shock to your advantage. 

Everyone is surprised by your capability of escaping Steve’s grasp, not realising your already moving towards Natasha again. You reach her quickly, stabbing your knife into her stomach as far as it can go. 

Natasha gasps, and you pull the knife out, watching as all the blood starts to seep from her stomach. 

Slowly, Natasha sinks to the ground, Maria catching her, helping her down. 

You move towards Natasha again, determined to get the job finished, but are quickly stopped by another pair of arms wrapping around your waist. You immediately recognise the metal arm, knowing that the Winter Soldier holds you in his grasp. You can’t escape him. You never have. 

He pulls you backwards, pushing you to the ground as he tries to punch you. However, you regain yourself quickly, rolling away from under him and kicking him in the face. 

Suddenly, you’re moved across the room. You forgot the damn speedster…

You raise your knife quickly, stabbing him before he has a chance to make another move. 

“PIETRO!” you hear a voice yell, and you turn your head to the right. Shit. Wanda Maximoff must have heard the commotion and went down to take a look. You have to get out of there. You will never win a fight with her.

You move quickly, running towards the stairs. However, before you could reach them, you felt a stabbing pain in your left shoulder, the sound of a gun shot following soon after. You had been shot. Bucky Barnes had shot you in an attempt to slow you down. 

But you didn’t let it. 

Instead, you went towards the stairs a little quicker, dashing down the hundreds of flights of stairs to get to the main floor. 

Of course, all SHIELD agents on the main floor were already expecting you, and you were followed by Steve Rogers, but you were quicker than him. You knew that. 

You dashed past all the SHIELD agents, avoiding their gun fire as you made it towards an emergency exit. 

The moment you stepped outside, you started your escape route. You already planned it, knowing exactly which way to go, no matter which way you would exit. 

Steve followed you outside, but the moment he set foot outside the door, you were gone. You had disappeared into the night, leaving no trace. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

Back in the Avengers tower, the team was recovering from your attack. Natasha was in bad shape. Your strike had been an attempt to murder her, and you didn’t miss any organs as you pierced your blade through her abdomen. 

Pietro was much better. He was back on his feet quickly, seeing as though you stabbing him hadn’t been a murder attempt. You merely wanted to distract him. 

It didn’t take long for Natasha to get back on her feet either, even though she was advised to stay on bed rest after the surgery. 

Natasha was determined to find you, and she quickly got to work. 

Even though you had made it out of the Avengers tower quickly, you were still hurt, and some of you blood had fallen on the floor as you made your escape towards the stairs. Clint and Maria had collected that blood, running multiple tests, only to find out you were not registered anywhere. 

There was no record of your existence. Were you just another ghost story?

What they did find were traces of the Super Soldier serum. However, they were modified, almost as if they were genetically a part of your system. 

Did that mean you were just another Hydra experiment? Natasha did hear you calling her a traitor. That had to mean you knew Dreykov, right? Who else viewed her as a traitor. I would make sense. Sending a modified teenage assassin after her, knowing Natasha was above killing children. 

Even in the Red Room, she always hesitated when sparring against the younger students. 

Dreykov must have had a lot of faith in you to send you after her. Natasha can only hope you’re not a graduate yet…

-------------------------------------------------------------

After the incident in the Avengers tower, you had fled to Germany. You figured it was best to leave the United States completely. And why would they ever search for you in Germany? 

You had rented an apartment, loving the small town you had chosen. Dreykov had given you 5 weeks to finish the assignment, and now, you had only 1 week left. There is now way that you’re going to succeed in killing Natasha within the week. 

They know you are after her now, and they will be prepared for you to make a return. You screwed it up.

Sloppy. 

Right now, you were just heading back to your apartment. You had taken a walk, deciding to make the most out of the freedom you had in the moment. The week would be over soon, and the moment Dreykov would send for your return you are certain you will not be seeing daylight any time soon. 

After you arrived in the apartment building, you instantly felt watched. 

Had the Avengers found you?

You made your way up to your apartment, pushing the key into the lock and walking through the small hallway. Someone was in here, you could feel it. 

You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, keeping your back towards the living room. 

“There are not a lot of places to hide in this apartment,” you spoke aloud into the emptiness of the apartment. Soon you heard a set of footsteps, and you felt another presence enter the room. 

“You’re very skilled for your age,” you heard a voice behind you say, and you immediately recognised it as Natasha’s. 

“And you are stronger than you look. I mean, even for you, I didn’t expect you to be on your feet so quickly,” you stated, turning around slowly. Natasha wasn’t holding a weapon in your face, something you were definitely expecting. 

You scanned her quickly, seeing the weapons she held on her belt. 

She didn’t come unarmed. Good. She’d be stupid to. 

“I don’t mean you any harm,” Natasha said, taking a small step forward as she held her hands in the air, showing you her every movement. 

You didn’t look impressed, instead just staring at her as she moved. 

“Then you are a fool,” you told her, and you spotted a small smirk flashing over Natasha’s face. “And you are very full of yourself,” she said, moving towards the kitchen island, leaning on it. 

“I can’t say I blame you. You took on a lot of the Avengers on your own. Even two Super Soldiers. That’s impressive,” she stated, giving you a small smile. You didn’t return it. 

“What? Jealous someone better took your place when you betrayed us,” you asked Natasha, determined to get on her nerves.

Natasha’s smile dropped quickly. 

“Quite the opposite, actually. I hoped no one would ever have to go through it again,” she told you, a hint of regret almost identifiable in her expression. Now it was your time to give her a small smile. 

“You think you’re so important that everything should’ve ended with you?” you asked her, moving towards the kitchen island as well, setting your glass down, still holding onto it. 

Natasha shook her head.

“What I am curious about, however, is the genetic Super Soldier serum that runs through your DNA,” Natasha paused, adjusting her stance before speaking again. “Tell me, was your dad a Super Soldier?” 

You let out a huff of amusement, surprising Natasha. 

“You think I believe you’re just here for a conversation? There are SHIELD agents placed on every corner of every street. Don’t think I didn’t notice it. The lovely young couple, drinking coffee at the restaurant downstairs? Amazing disguise, if you were trying to trick nine year olds,” you stated, finishing your glass of water. 

Natasha smiles, clearly impressed with your observations. 

“You’re right. I’m not here for just a conversation, although I do hope we can prevent violence,” Natasha started, but before she could continue you interrupted her. 

“You’re here to bring me in.” 

Natasha nodded, and the look on her face was almost apologetic. 

“No one needs to get hurt. If you just come with me, there’s a big chance you could avoid confinement,” Natasha explained, yet you just scoffed and shook your head. 

“Avoid confinement? Yeah right. There is no way, that after what I have done, your people won’t lock me away.” 

“I can be very persuasive,” Natasha simply replied. 

There was a small silence. Natasha knew you were debating your options. You didn’t seem like a brainwashed sheep. She knew that you knew better than trusting Dreykov’s lies. Sure, you still believed she was a traitor, but there is no way that you didn’t see that what Dreykov is doing is wrong. 

“You know going back after a failed mission will result in punishment,” Natasha started, trying to get through to you. Trying to give you that little push you needed to go with her. “If you go with me, you’ll never be punished like that ever again,” she finished. 

You looked up, deep in thought.

“How could you be so sure?” you asked her, and Natasha didn’t hesitate to respond. 

“We can keep you safe-”

“I found you. I nearly killed you. Who’s to say some other Widow won’t come after me as well?” you replied, and Natasha gave you another small smile. 

“I escaped the Red Room when I was 20,” Natasha started. “It took him 12 years to send someone after me. We will make sure we’ll take him down before he even has the chance to come after you.” 

“How many times, did you try to kill him, exactly? Because I believe you attempted his murder twice already, both of which you failed. You blew him up in Budapest, and then another time when you took the air facility down. Do you honestly think you’ll succeed now?”

Natasha shook her head, seemingly recollecting her thoughts. 

“I failed twice, and that was sloppy, but both times I didn’t have the Avengers on my side. You ran the moment you saw Wanda. You know what she is capable of. Taking down the Red Room for good shouldn’t be too difficult with the Avengers on our side,” Natasha explained, yet you just shook your head. 

“I’m not like you,” you told her, yet Natasha just looked at you in confusion. 

“I’m not some disposable widow like you were. I’m more important,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a sad smile.

“Everyone is just a disposable widow to him,” she started, but you interrupted her. 

“I’m not. You tested my blood. You know I carry the Super Soldier serum. I’m not just some girl he picked up from the streets,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a small nod, encouraging to keep going. 

“I can’t explain it, but he won’t just let me walk. He put too much time in my creation. He would never just let it go to waste,” you finished, looking down, avoiding Natasha’s gaze as you turned around, putting your glass by the sink. 

“We’ll help you. I know that we can,” Natasha tried. 

“Is it worth the risk? My life is not great, but it’s not terrible either. Dreykov values me, and I am not treated like a piece of meat, unlike you might suspect.” 

“So the punishment is worth it, then? Knowing that in three days time, Dreykov will have you be recollected, and once you return to the Red Room, you’ll be punished severely for a failed mission,” Natasha paused, allowing you to let her words sink in. 

“Or, in three days time, you could know you can go to bed without worrying about someone joining. You could know you can be safe, and sleep through the night without anyone disrupting you. Knowing that, is the choice really that hard?” Natasha finished, and you were almost at your breaking point. 

Was it worth it? Was going back the best decision? Dreykov would hurt you, you knew that, but you deserved it. Didn’t you? 

“Please, just come with me. We can help,” Natasha spoke, nearly begged. 

You sighed deeply. 

“Fine, but if you put me in a cell, I will go on a murder streak,” you told her, and Natasha let out a chuckle, before seeing your facial expression, and realising you were dead serious. 

“Duly noted,” Natasha said, before motioning you towards the door. 

What had you done…

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[httpwintersoldier]

『 do it for me, doll. || bucky barnes x reader 』

pairing: pornstar!Bucky x f!reader words: medium summary: when life gets hard after the Avenger's disbandment Bucky has to find a new occupation, and you find it too.

『 part 2 』 『 part 3 』

With the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D basically gone, the income of the remaining members was up to them entirely, and sadly, given Bucky's reputation and very recognizable appearance, many employers were reluctant or even scared to hire the man.

He had found some jobs, however he'd quickly get fired after complaints or after customers stopped showing up out of fear.

It was a tough life for Bucky, learning to live in this completely new world, while also being painted as a monster despite all of the heroic acts he had done over the years... It made living life almomst impossiblle.

However, he didn't understand. Peter had taught him how to use social media years prior, since he was tired of having people ask for his "@" and then laugh in his face when he didn't know what it was, and according to the people on said social medias, he was "a total DILF", "a 10/10" and "adorable". Bucky did have to ask for clarification on some terms, but after a while he got the gist of it, and appreciated the compliments. But why was it that he was so loved online yet so hated in real life?

The struggle in job searching ceased when someone bravely suggested that he should do porn. At first he was shocked, thinking it was rude for "BuckyInMe_69" to even suggest such a disrespectful thing, but then he began considering it.

Money and compliments in exchange for undressing? What was the worst that could happen? Harassment and constant disrespect? Bucky already got plenty of that on a daily basis without getting his cock out.

After considering it for several days, and trying to find any other job that would take him, the soldier said fuck it, and began researching about his new job. Where to go, where to start, what to do...

Bucky soon found out that he was an absolute natural. It was awkward at first, as he himself was quite an awkward person at times, but his naturally flirtatious personality and eagerness to be adored worked in his favour.

The only downside was the conversation he had with his co-worker-turned-friend Sam when the news reached his side.

"Bucky why are people sending me pictures of penises saying it's yours? Tell me this isn't your dick on my screen."

The soldier just laughed and told him it was payback for all of the Red Wing taunting.

He loved the money, but most of all he loved the compliments and appreciation. It was a nice contrast from all of the insults and judgement he got, and he felt like he could open up more and be himself on camera.

On the other end, you stared at a "Sign-Up!" screen on your computer, wondering if you were desperate for sexual gratification to the point of joining porn live streams. And the answer, as you soon found out, was yes. Yes you were.

After making the account your teeth played with your bottom lip as you searched through the plethora of options, when a certain someone caught your atention.

Was that... a metal arm? Were they cosplaying as Bucky Barnes? That would've been messed up... But as you brought the screen closer and squinted your eyes to look at the man on the thumbnail you realized it was actually THE Bucky Barnes. On a porn site. Livestreaming.

You clicked on his livestream (just out of curiousity, of course) and were instantly met with a view you could've only dreamed of.

Bucky was on a chair leaning back, his torso fully on display, tanned and shining, and his thighs just barely showing, covered with a pair of tight shorts that left little to the imagination.

He smiled and greeted everyone with the cutest voice, and for a second you forgot he was once a prominent assassin.

As luck would have it, he had just started streaming and there were very few people there, so, without thinking, you went ahead and booked a private session, before someone else "stole" him away and robbed you of the view.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck, dammit. It was only when Bucky raised his eyebrows and spoke that you realized what you had done.

"Wow, a session so soon, I didn't expect it! To the lovely fan that bought the session, I'll meet you in my private room, to the rest of you, I'll see you soon!"

With a click from his side, the screen turned into the thumbnail picture, with a white text on top that said "Private Session Time! I'll be back soon".

You stared at it for a while before realizing that he was waiting for you and you should probably join the session.

You took a deep breath (or several deep breaths) before joining your 20-minute session. You pressed the big golden button and the screen that once was locked, turned into an image of Bucky. The camera angle was lower, so now you could fully see his body from the head to the knees, and the shorts he wore were long gone, now replaced by a pair of tight grey boxers that perfectly showed the outline of his hard-on.

"Hey doll, how are ya?" He greeted, when he noticed the company had finally joined.

"Good, how are you?" You typed nervously.

You watched as his eyes moved to read the chat. Your thumb was in your mouth and you nervously bit your fingernail, anticipating the response.

"I'm doin' good princess. We got a shy one in our hands, do we? Are you gonna let me see you?" He questioned, his hand finding his crotch area.

You looked around, wondering if you should do it, and you just figured fuck it.

You placed the pc in front of you, a little farther away, so the camara would catch everything below your neck. You then knelt in front of the pc and turned it on.

You were shaking as you did so, but the way Bucky spoke, in such a gentle, soft yet sensual manner instantly put you at ease.

"You look gorgeous, doll."

Bucky stared at your hardened nipples, that were protruding in the very short nightgown you wore.

"Thank you."

The Soldier smirked, he could sense your nervousness from the quietness in your voice.

"Lean back for me doll, and spread your legs, I wanna see how wet you are."

You obeyed him, slowly stripping from your panties, and leaned against the headboard. You spread your legs, giving him full sight of your pussy.

When you looked at the screen he had rid himself of his underwear too, holding his hard shaft with his mechanical arm. The view was so hot and erotic you swore you could cum just at the view.

"You're so fuckin' pretty doll, can you touch yourself for me?"

Your hand sneaked down your body until your fingers found your clit and began slwoly rubbing circles.

"That's a good girl, I wanna hear how pretty you sound."

His pretty blue eyes were half shut, filled with lust as he began pumping his cock.

"You look... really good." You said, shyly.

That got a smile out of him and he brushed his hair back with his free hand.

"Yeah baby? You like to see me jerk off to you?"

"Yes... Yes, I love it." You admitted, your hand speeding up subconsciously.

"Why don't you finger yourself for me doll?"

You slowly inserted two fingers in, stealing a loud moan out of you.

Bucky's hand sped up at the sight and at the sound.

"Shit if you sound this good now, I can only imagine how you'd sound if I was inside you, fucking you until that pretty head of yours could only think of my cock."

Your head hit the backboard the second you heard those words, and your hand sped up.

"I wanna hear you too, please Bucky." You begged, and his cock twitched at the way you called his name

Grunts and whimpers instantly left his mouth, and his chest began heaving.

"You're doing so good... so good doll."

You added some speed to your hand and added another one, that circled your clit.

Bucky couldn't cum, since he still had a livestream to get back to after your session, but the sounds your fingers made fucking your own pussy made it hard for him not to say fuck it and cum for you.

"That's it princess, you sound so good right now, I wish I could fuck you until you couldn't move your legs anymore."

"Oh my- fuck! Bucky I'm gonna cum."

He smirked, as he could now slightly see your face, bottom lip trapped between your teeth and eyebrows furrowed with pleasure.

"That's it princess, cum for me. I wanna see you cum."

His words were like a command, and so you came in front of him, with a cry for his name, your legs shaking from the thrill of the experience.

The timer on Bucky's side signaling the session was over had rang about five minutes prior to your climax, but he was obsessed with you, and wanted to make you cum more than he wanted to go back to the live.

He hung out for a second, still stroking his cock, allowing you to catch your breath, before speaking up again.

"Alright doll, our time's up and I gotta get back, but I hope to see you here again." Bucky said, a playful smile on his lips, and an enchanting look in his eyes.

You covered yourself, suddenly feeling very exposed, causing the man to laugh inwardly.

"You might. You might..."

"I'm hoping I do princess."

Those were the last words you heard before he disconnected and went back to the live. You sat there, cathcing your breath still, and thinking about the past twety-something minutes.

How was it that the best sexual encounter you'd ever had was with a man that wasn't even in the room with you!?

A/N: if this pops off and people are interested I can make a part two!

#bucky #marvel #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #bucky reader insert #bucky x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #bucky camboy #bucky x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic

[stxrvel]

hate is a strong word pt. 2

summary: it took you three fundamental moments to find out what your feelings were about and that maybe you didn't want to have them.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +3k

warnings: bad words, bucky's kinda flirting, reader is constantly flustered, the avengers are imprudent, still not a healthy relationship, angst at the very end because reader finds her feelings very confusing, pls don't come at her.

note: hi guys! i finally decided to publish this second part and the third one is going to be the last one. i only have like 10% of it but it's on the works. thanks to all of you who read and enjoy my works! hope you like this one too <;33

part 1 ; part 3

Bucky picked up a strange habit after that mission where you found out he didn't really hate you.

At times, when he had a mischievous gleam in his eye, Bucky would call you “doll”.

It was a nightmare.

Maybe the worst thing that could have happened to you was having that conversation with Bucky because now it seemed like he didn't want to let you have a single moment of peace. And he was enjoying it, that bastard was rejoicing in your shame. The first time he did it you wanted the earth to swallow you up, with several wall of eyes on you. You knew those glowing eyes meant danger and yet you walked around them.

Arriving from that mission was an odyssey because you were suddenly uncomfortable around him. It wasn't so much like that when you were alone with him, most of the time, but it was always so weird when there was someone else from the team around.

You two arrived at the Complex two days later. Everything was going well until you started down the ramp of the Quinjet and faces began to appear in the distance. You suddenly felt acutely aware of the closeness of Bucky's body to yours and, not at all disguised, you moved to the other side as you continued down. Bucky barely gave you a sidelong glance with that unabashed grin.

You both stopped when you got in front of the others and even though you were sure they had questions to ask you, an awkward silence surrounded you.

Everyone was looking every which way, especially between you and Bucky, as if they could sense that something had happened. It made your insides churn just remembering it.

But finally it was Sam Wilson who put an end to the silence, sentencing you to eternal sorrow.

“Did you two hook up or something?”

Bucky didn't say anything, other than try to swallow a laugh and all you could do was break their line, stepping in between Sam and Tony and brushing their shoulders hard. No one said anything until you could no longer hear them.

Bucky later told you that he had cleared things up, but that didn't put your mind at ease.

But, well, anyway, back to the main topic. Bucky made it his new sport to call you doll in random situations to get on your nerves. Sometimes he would do it when you two were alone, and well, that didn't upset you that much. But other times, the bastard would do it when he knew there were people who could hear him just to enjoy your upset and confused expression. God, you hated him so much.

And you'd like to think that with the time that had passed you had gotten used to it, but the truth is, it was impossible to get used to it. That Bucky started calling you by that nickname seemed to have flipped some switch, because you couldn't help but think that things around him had changed. Suddenly you were starting to feel like it was too much to be around him, too intense, too annoying, too hot-

Argh. Whatever.

You were having lunch with Natasha on the cafeteria balcony, trying to dispel from your head all the times during that day Bucky had used that… awkward nickname with you. You stabbed at the pasta shells with your fork with a blank stare and a scowl.

“So, it's been a month, has it?” Natasha spoke, her back erect with the spoon full of stew halfway to her mouth.

You shook your head slightly to turn to look at her. “A month of what?”

“Since you got back from the mission. You and…”

Natasha shook her head pointing inside the cafeteria and yes, there was the owner of your nightmares.

“Oh yeah, what about it?”

“You never told me what happened.”

“Because there's nothing to tell, Romanoff, don't-”

“Did you two fuck?”

Your mouth opened wide. You couldn't believe what the woman in front of you had just asked.

“Natasha…” you frowned at her, your voice coming out with reprimanding ink.

“What? Talking about sex is normal these days.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced, shaking your head. “I can't believe it. You better shut up, let me at least enjoy lunch. It's the only time of the day where I can be left alone.”

You heard the spy's deep breathing, but she finally dropped the subject for the sake of peace.

You took a calming breath and tried to enjoy your meal.

“What's up, girls?” someone appeared out of nowhere and sat down in the middle of Natasha and you.

“Hey, Clint,” you replied listlessly, hoping he'd entertain himself talking to Natasha and they'd completely forget you were there.

It was surprising, but those last few days you had spent more time with Clint than with any other member of the team. He seemed to be the only person who didn't really care about whatever it was that had happened between you and Bucky, which was really nothing. So, usually, if you had free time, you preferred to spend it around him.

It wasn't that the others were all the time bugging you and making comments about it, like Natasha did today, but by trying to keep things “the way they were” the environments became very uncomfortable. It was like everyone had convinced themselves that they had to ignore something that wasn't there. Everything was more tense for no apparent reason.

“How was the mission?” you heard Natasha say as you watched the green field in the distance.

“Luckily, very easy. I gathered the intel and saved the hostages. That girl's a lunatic, isn't she?”

“You betcha. And that we haven't directly encountered her, except for Y/N.”

You shook your head in assent when you heard your name.

“It must have been awful.”

It was on the next mission you had after the mission with Bucky, just two days later. It was supposed to be a recon mission, because the data showed she wasn't there anymore, but you ran into her in the middle of an attack. People called her Dark Lightning, some would say it was because of her hair and her shiny suit, but the truth was literal: the woman could summon very powerful dark rays.

You didn't quite understand where she came from because your specialty was HYDRA remnants, but Fury asked you for the favor and, well, you also wanted to get out of the Complex, even if it was only for a few hours.

So as anything could go wrong, in the middle of the mission Dark Lightning showed up and gave a good beating to the whole team, including you. You spent a week in recovery and well, there you were. You had been assigned jobs that you could handle from a computer in the comfort of your room while Fury decided when you could return to the field.

“Yes, she has a fascination with electrocuting people for fun. I think we've seen worse, but she's pretty close.”

“Who could have done worst?”

Natasha and you answered without hesitation. “Ultron.”

“Are you serious?” Clint narrowed his eyes in disbelief.

“He may not have lasted more than a day, but if he had, we'd all be screwed. We wouldn't even be having this conversation because we'd be extinct,” you made your point, stealing some potato chips from Natasha's tray.

The redhead nodded at your words. “The android had access to the entire internet, the entire history of humanity and simply decided that extinction was the solution.”

“Mmm, I think you're giving him too much credit,” Clint waved his hand in a nonchalant gesture, after taking a huge bite of his burger. “Thor's brother was terrible too, wasn't he?”

Natasha and you looked at each other, before you both shrugged to reluctantly agree with Clint. Yes it was true that he had caused a lot of havoc, but that you say a worldwide threat, maybe not so much.

-

Natasha and Clint dropped you off in front of what had become your new office since working at the Complex. You had a long conversation with them about villains that you didn't want to hear about evil and malevolent plans again for quite a while, but you had to deal with that at work.

You sighed looking at the time on your cell phone. Bucky was supposed to be in there already.

Oh yeah, you worked with Bucky too. Why? You weren't quite sure, but the first day you were there, Barnes walked in like he owned the place without saying anything and sat in the empty chair across the room. The room wasn't that big, so you were always relatively close.

Besides, you also didn't know at what point Bucky became the tech guru enough for Fury to delegate a completely electronic job to him. But in order not to provoke anyone or anything, you decided to remain silent.

You opened the door with a sigh and… yes, there was Bucky.

“Hey, doll.”

He gave you half a look and went back to staring at the screen in front of him. You stuck your tongue out at his back with a frown and rolled your eyes as you closed the door. At first you were glad that you didn't have to argue with him all the time anymore, but sometimes you preferred that to having to put up with hearing that nickname all the time.

“If you really don't like it,” you heard Bucky's voice again after you sat down in front of your computer and you couldn't help but wince because you instantly knew what he meant, “why don't you ask me to stop?”

You knew he had turned to look at you, you felt his gaze drilling into your head, but you weren't going to turn to see him. You couldn't let him take the pleasure of seeing your agitated expression and the way your eyes gave you away. You were fighting too hard with yourself to try to keep all those weird feelings at bay for him to come along and upset you with five little words.

“You know I'd listen to you.”

“Stop it,” you turned against your will, trying to maintain a strong front. “Let me work.”

You turned quickly again, your heart beating so fast and hard against your ribs that you feared it might bolt. The quick glimpse you got of his playful blue eyes so close to you was enough adrenaline for the rest of the day.

God, you had to learn to control yourself more.

“As you wish, ma'am.”

God, how you hated it.

-

The second round that day was a couple of hours later, when the whole team was called together to give the weekly previews.

Tony and Steve went first, being the leaders of the missions against Dark Lightning, reporting that they had made great strides in locating several places she was using as hideouts thanks to information provided to them by intelligence, namely Bucky and you.

Clint gave a short report on his last mission and a strategy for the next attack was quickly planned.

Then, it was your dependency's turn. As you had spoken the week before, it was now Bucky's turn.

Without a word, the man moved to the podium and planted himself there looking at everyone present.

“We still have no new information on Dark Lightning. Her last location dated back to a place near New Mexico, but from there we lost track of her. We're using the satellites to see if we can find her.”

You shook your head in a nod. That was correct.

“We haven't detected any unusual developments about the HYDRA remnant settlements either. They seem to be… somewhat quiet for now.”

Yes, that was one way of putting it.

“We also need a new extension,” Bucky jerked his head in Fury's direction, who quickly nodded taking it for granted.

Ah, yes, you definitely needed it.

“And that's it. Anything you want to add, doll?”

Your own breath caught in your throat, causing you to hiccup which couldn't have been more embarrassing. As the blood froze in your veins, a string of awkward coughs and chair movements followed Bucky's words.

Even though you felt like you were dying inside, you looked him in the eye and firmly said, “No, Barnes.”

Your lethal gaze followed his soft smile and the way he nodded and then stepped down from the podium and walked to sit in his place next to you. As if he hadn't just embarrassed you, he picked up the bottle with water in front of him and took it as if it was nothing, paying attention to Wanda who had just taken his place.

And you wanted to pay attention to her, because sometimes the team would make requests and you had to take note, but you couldn't take your eyes off Bucky's profile in front of you, how his blue eyes were focused on Wanda or the way his lips curved slightly, almost imperceptible, that if you hadn't been watching as you were you would have missed it for sure.

You noticed his eyebrows raised as the room erupted in laughter. He took that moment to speak to you without looking you directly in the eye:

“What's wrong?”

You frowned at his profile. “What's wrong? You ask me what's wrong?”

At Bucky's puzzled look, you moved your chair until you were close enough to him for him to understand your whispers. Well, sure, though, super soldier…

“Why did you do that in front of the whole team?” you reproached him amid whispers, drawing a chuckle from him. All around everyone was still talking loudly, so Bucky didn't care too much about the sound of his voice.

You did. Not only because someone might hear you and embarrass you again if you didn't speak softer, but also because that laughter wasn't doing you any good. You felt your stomach turn until you felt like throwing up.

“I already told you that you can ask me to stop at any time and I will,” Bucky shrugged, his gaze still focused on the person on the platform.

“Why are you so insufferable?”

The man set the bottle with water down on the table and suddenly turned to face you. You were speechless at his closeness.

“Why don't you just say it? Or don't you want me to stop?”

You swallowed saliva as best you could, because suddenly your mouth felt too dry. You didn't know what his closeness was doing to your body, but you felt like you were going to explode like fireworks at any moment.

“I just want you to stop embarrassing me in front of the rest of the team,” you spoke between whispers, trying to keep your composure.

Bucky suddenly flashed that sly grin you hated so much.

“So you'd rather I only call you that when we're alone?”

You tried to calm your racing heart with deep breaths, but the truth was that you had lost all sense of reality several seconds ago. You felt like you were in a room alone with Bucky as a haunting silence enveloped you two as the tension continued to build. You could no longer hear any words but the ones coming out of his mouth and you could barely hear your thoughts. You felt that this exaltation was going to suffocate you.

And when his eyes lowered for less than a second, when you realized that he looked at your lips for a thousandth of a second, at that moment you came out of your trance. You blinked rapidly.

“I'd rather you stop trying to annoy me with those provocations.”

“What provocations, doll? We're just talking.”

You let out a growl under your breath, partly out of frustration and partly because of the euphoric way your body reacted to hearing his deeper-than-normal voice.

“You're getting on my nerves, Barnes.”

“Just say the magic words, doll. It'll be over as soon as you snap your fingers.”

“Why don't you just forget about it and leave it alone?”

“Because I like calling you that, don't you?”

“No,” you frowned at the bitterness that settled in the back of your throat. “You get on my nerves. You stress me out, Barnes.”

“God, you look so hot when you get mad.”

Bucky thought he mumbled it and he probably did, but neither of you noticed the dead silence that had taken over the room. You didn't even dare to tear your gaze away from his when you noticed his pupils disappear.

You didn't even have time to think about the abomination that had come out of his mouth, let alone its physical effect on your body, because shame came down on you once again like a bucket of cold water.

Fuck, not again. I can't.

I can't even narrate it.

-

The third round was the next day. You had been standing in front of the office door wondering if you should go in or not. Anyway, Bucky was doing such a good job for both of you, you didn't think much would happen if you didn't work that day. But no, the sense of responsibility wouldn't leave you alone.

So you opened the door and sat down quickly in your chair without even giving him a glance. But you still couldn't escape him.

On the table in front of the keyboard was a small open box with your favorite dessert from the cafeteria and a glass with a metal straw filled to the brim with your favorite drink. Maybe it was too early for that much sugar, but you couldn't help the smile your face succumbed to as you looked at two of your favorite things in front of you.

Until you heard him.

“I'm sorry,” Bucky spoke behind you.

Though the smile on your face disappeared, your chest constricted at the sound of his contrite voice. Ugh, you hated so much you couldn't control those crazy emotions inside your chest.

“Yesterday I got caught up in the moment and… Well, no, I was just willfully reckless. I'm sorry I put you through that.”

You sighed looking at the detail he had gotten you and thought deeply about his words. You knew his apology was sincere and that his detail came from the heart, but you felt confused inside about how to proceed.

“If you want me to stop, then I will.”

Your ears pricked up at that, straightening up on the back of the chair. Bucky was giving you what you had so desperately asked for finally, but… why didn't that make you feel good?

“I'm truly sorry for making you uncomfortable all this time. I thought… No, that doesn't matter. I should have stopped from the beginning. I'm sorry, Y/N.”

Unlike how you had felt on different occasions, that time when your heart pounded out of control, you felt a chill run through your entire body. You felt like your heartbeat was going to stop at some point because of the whiplash of pain that coursed through your chest.

No, that didn't feel right, so it must not be right.

You turned around on the swivel chair, meeting Bucky's pained face head on.

“If you want to yell at me, go ahead,” he said, straightening up and hardening his features as if he expected a blow.

“I…” the words crowded in your mouth, you weren't even sure what it was you wanted to say to him.

But his face softened once more and his clear eyes sparkling like two stars in the sky reassured you a little.

“I don't quite know how I feel,” you finally told him, your face contracted in concern. “I don't quite understand how I feel and… I don't think I can handle this.”

You pointed between you and Bucky, and the man finally took on a calmer expression. He let the air out as if he had finally pulled his head out of the water.

“That's fine, Y/N. It's a start. You may not know how to handle those emotions, but you can recognize them now.”

“But I don't know if I want them,” you frowned, your own body contradicting your words as you wanted to move closer to the man who had just tried to pretend that what he'd heard hadn't hurt a bit. “I don't know if I want to have these emotions for you.”

Bucky was silent for several seconds, his face inscrutable as your heart continued to pound wildly. For a moment you wondered if he could hear it too.

“That too- that's okay too,” Bucky nodded slightly, his eyes reluctantly moving from the floor to meet yours. The lack of brightness in them caused another ache in your chest. That was what you didn't want, that pain, that desperation to want to soothe it. You hated it. “It's okay if you don't want to have them. We could- could spend some time away so you can deal with it.”

“Would that solve it?” you dared to ask, even though your whole being screamed against that idea.

“I think it would,” Bucky gave you a smile, not at all similar to the ones you had seen before. That one was much sadder, duller, bleak…

“Then I think I might give it a try.”

No, maybe not, you wouldn't put up with that pain. It was better to feel the shame. Yes, definitely. Much better were Bucky's sly smirks instead of that smile that couldn't even reach his opaque eyes.

Oh no, what did you just do?

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #stxrvel talks #avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Trying To Derail My One Track Mind

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Part 1 Masterlist

Word Count: 3,225

Summary: Part 2/2 Life was simple, till you met your boss.

Warnings: 18+, smut, cheating on a significant other, oral f and m receiving, bondage, p in v.

You hadn’t slept that good in ages, that’s all you can think as you rise from your side of the bed. Stretching your arms above your head, then reaching for your phone, you must’ve woken up before your alarm, you do that all the time.

When you check the time your heart jumps from your chest. It’s 10:30, the guest would be ready for their hangover bloody mary’s any second. You know you turned your alarm on before you went to sleep. You turn around to see Bucky still sleeping. You roll your eyes, rich people.

You try to leave without raising him from sleep, but you’re not so lucky. He rolls towards you and it’s only now you see that he had no shirt on. Weird since it was freezing in the room, you could see snow building up on the window sills. Your eyes linger on him for a moment too long, “Like what you see?” He bares his teeth to you in a wide smile.

You avert your eyes, a blush covering your whole face. “I’m so sorry, excuse me.”. You grab your phone from the nightstand and try to leave. He grabs your hand, “It’s okay, you don’t have to go.” His eyes bore into yours.

You were starting to understand what you thought before, his eyes make girls act like fools. With bated breath you pull your hand away, “I don’t think my fiancé would appreciate this, I have to go.”. You didn’t stand up to leave. You found your body ignoring your brain. You couldn’t look away from him, and he knew it.

Bucky sits up in bed, letting the blanket fall down to expose his naked upper half. Again, your body is doing things you can’t stop. Your eyes follow the toned curves of his chest down to the valleys created by his hipbones. “I don’t think your fiancé would appreciate a lot of things. Good thing I’m not inclined to care.” Something about the way he said that broke the trance his body has on you.

“I gotta get to work.” You say, putting yourself on that trusty autopilot that gets you through most days at work. You finally take your turn to leave without waiting for a response. It felt good, too good, like you could hold your head a little higher for getting by with it. The guests ate a quick breakfast before all departing, you looked out of the kitchen window as you scrubbed oats from the antique ceramic.

It snowed a lot more than forecasted. The fields behind the house were almost unrecognizable in a blanket of snow. You lean closer to the cold glass, looking towards your car, it was completely buried. You promised that you’d be home early tonight for new years dinner at your in laws house. If the snow didn’t let up soon, you’d never get home.

On days with no guests you do most of your management work. Taking inventory, ordering deliveries, making a new schedule for your cooks. It takes the longest time out of anything you do at the manor. It’s 6 when you get off the phone with the trucking company that delivers the food, they won’t be able to make it till after the weekend, when the snow clears up.

You finally leave the break room, since there’s no windows you couldn’t tell how dark it was getting. You go to the back door to check and see if your car was gonna make it out of the driveway, but the door was blocked by snow, it wouldn’t budge.

You let out a huff and it causes a cloud to appear infront of you. It was freezing in this old house, if you weren’t in a room with a fireplace you were out of luck. You search through every room till you find one burning. You close the library door behind you, not wanting to let the heat out. You see Bucky sitting at the desk, reading over files for something.

“Mind if I join you?” You wouldn’t have asked, but you were still operating on autopilot. You knew he didn’t mind one bit that you were in his presence. You curl up on the couch beside the fireplace, back facing the rest of the room. “It’s not looking good out there.” He says, you could hear the amusement in his tone.

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll even make it out of here when my shift ends.” You don’t look at him, but can tell he’s smiling when he says “Oh no.”. You roll your eyes because you know he can’t see you. You take notice when he joins you infront of the fire.

“Another night at the manor, I’m gonna have to start charging you.” He says, kicking his feet up beside you. You hope he’s joking. “There was a strange man in my bed last night, I’d like a full refund.” You counter.

“States in the fine print, if you like it, refunds are void.” You knew he was flirting with you, unashamedly, but you didn’t want him to stop. Maybe it was the way the flames danced on his features or him always deciding to sit right beside you, but your guard was down, and you found your body doing the frozen thing again, heart beating a million miles a minute.

“Who said I enjoyed it?” You say, hoping to knock him down a peg. He shrugs his shoulders and looks to you, “You said all you needed to say this morning.”. He says it in a matter of fact tone. You know he’s talking about the way you so obviously checked him out 2 feet away.

“I’m sorry again, I don’t know what I was thinking, you’re my boss and I’m engaged, it was highly inappropriate.” You say, keeping your self control. Guilt helped you, your fiancés face clouding your mind.

“Don’t apologize, doll. I tend to have that effect on people.” You laugh out loud, you couldn’t help yourself. You can’t tell if he’s being serious or not, based on the shit eating grin, he was joking.

“I just don’t want to give off the wrong idea.” You say, looking down at your hands. “And what’s that?” You can’t even look at him. This cat and mouse game was getting out of control.

You’re both just sitting beside each other, harmlessly flirting one second. The next second could be an entirely different story if you don’t tread lightly, “That I like you.” You look to him to see he’s smiling at you “What?” You say.

Bucky stands from the little couch, walking over to the hot coals. He blows on them to reignite the flames. “I didn’t peg you for a liar.”. The fires completely out, his technique failing. The tiny amount of warmth leaked from the cracks in the window seal, leaving you frozen mentally and physically.

“I’m not.” You say, standing up to leave. You couldn’t argue with him and you knew it. The reason being either because he’s your boss, or you don’t know you’d lose. “Where are you going?” He asks, following you to the kitchen. You decide to ignore him for a moment while you bundle up in many layers. Once you pull on your gloves you’re addressing him again. “I have a dinner to make it to, with my fiancés parents. It was uh nice to meet you I guess, till next time.” You nod your head and turn your back to him, fishing your keys from your bag.

You let out a scream when your face hits the glass on the door, the frost feeling like needles on your skin. “That’s cute, too bad you won’t make it.” He breathes in your ear. “Get off Bucky, I meant it.” You say, wiggling in his grasp. He had his body pressed against you, caging you to the door.

He reaches up and brushes your hair back, exposing the crook of your neck. “So now I’m Bucky? I’m afraid that ship has sailed sweet girl.” He chuckles, and now you realize how serious the situation was becoming. It hits you that he really does not care that you’ve promised yourself to someone else.

“Admit that you want me too, then I’ll let you go.”. Your throat goes dry, you know if he’s gone to these lengths then that’s not all it’s gonna take. “Please just let me go, I’ll pretend like this never happened.” You don’t know if you mean it. The way his body molded to yours would be seared into your brain.

You know you shouldn’t like the way he tightly gripped your hands behind your back. Or the way that the pain in your frost bitten cheek made your body heat up. You just had to get through the niceties of going down a path you couldn’t turn back on. Cheating on a partner is terrible, you know that. It’s why your brain won’t stop pleading to stop, but your body knows what it wants.

He drops your hands, holding them between you. You could easily slip away now, but you don’t even pull your arms free, you stay there with your breath held. “That’s not what I asked, now was it?” He pulls your face towards him, causing your neck to crane in an inhuman way. You look into his eyes and it’s not the same person. He looked between yours with expectation. You managed to croak out “I admit it.”. He steps back, releasing you from his hold.

“See that wasn’t so hard.” You turn your body around to face him, he’s still standing in your bubble. “So I can leave now?” You say, a little part of you hoping he has something else up his sleeve. What he pulls just isn’t what you expected.

“Oh doll, you’re never leaving.” You drop whatever role you’ve been playing the last two days. The thought of being trapped in this house waking you up from whatever spell Bucky had put you under. “Excuse me?” Your voice comes out in a high pitched huff. He takes back his spot pressing you against the door, but this time you’re looking him in the eye. “Like I said, you’re just what I need, the perfect person to run this place. It’s yours now, why would I let you leave?” His hand goes for your face, you feel his thumb caressing your lips; outlining them with the tip of his finger.

“Bucky, I’ll admit to the flirting, I’ll admit that I want you too, but it’s nothing more than that. At the end of the day I still have to go home to my fiancé.” You gave it one last shot before you completely give up trying. “I don’t think you’re getting it.” His eyes are black now, like an apex predator, he reaches up and grabs you by the chin. “What I want, I get.” Your body finally betrays your mind and you nod your head. Keeping your mouth shut while doing it.

He’s taken control over the situation, and you couldn’t fight anymore, putty in his hands. “Good girl, now call your ex boyfriend up, tell him you’ve accepted a big promotion, end things with him.” You don’t know what you’re gonna say, your fiancé knew you too well. He’d know somethings up. “He won’t believe it. He’ll come here, start asking questions and become a real problem for you.” You don’t know why you fed him with information. You weren’t even scared, you’d just accepted your fate.

“Then what are you proposing?” You turn your head and look at the snow still coming down hard. “Let the car fall over a hill, snow will cover foot steps and tire tracks. No one would see the car till everything melted, think i got lost and died somewhere in the woods.” You don’t know where that came from, honestly, faking your own death had never crossed your mind before, but somehow you were a genius at it.

Bucky seemed to like the idea because he leans forward, abruptly pressing his lips to yours. Your body takes over the autopilot seat, shutting your brain off completely. Your lips moved with his in an intoxicating way, you could quite literally feel yourself getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.

He pulls away. “What made you change your mind?” You know he was gonna ask eventually. “I gave up fighting it, fighting you.” You reach your hands out and lay them on his chest. “I’ve been trying my best to be a good girl these last 24 hours.”. You slide your fingers down to his waistband.

“I think I need some practice, to show myself,” you unbuckle his belt, “just how much,” you drop to your knees, pulling his slacks down with you. “I like being bad.”. You finish your theatrics with putting your hands behind your back, keeping your chin down but your eyes up.

You watched as his cock grew hard in his boxers. Bucky finishes your job and pushes them down, letting them fall to the floor. All your eyes could focus on was how big he was. You knew you’d be settling if you ran back to your fiancé now.

You don’t see him reach out and grasp your pony tail, wrapping it around his hand like a rein. He guides himself to your closed mouth, rubbing the tip across your bottom lip “I think you’re being a very good girl.” With that little praise you opened your mouth slightly, sticking out your tongue to wrap around the tip, coaxing his leaking cock into your mouth.

You liked having no control, letting your mouth be used by him. It electrified you, giving up was the best thing you could’ve done. “You like teasing me? Hmm?” He pulls your head back so you would meet his eye. The thought of being punished by Mr. Barnes was enough to make you nod your head, and wrap your lips completely around his tip, sucking lightly.

You feel precum drip onto your tongue, and you take the chance to stick it out and show him. You slid your tongue down to the base of him, smearing cum down his shaft. You look up with puppy dog eyes. “Want me to clean that up for you Mr. Barnes?” You bat your lashes.

You feel the hand in your hair tighten, and the vein in his forehead get bigger. “You’re gonna pay for that.” You bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from smiling. You didn’t want him to know just how much you anticipated his idea of punishment.

You’d brought the ideas up to your fiancé about role playing. You tried to teach him that sometimes pain could be pleasure but he never understood. So you let it go, but you held onto the fantasies you had about being spanked, denied climax after being brought to the brink over and over, being used like a lifeless doll whose only purpose is pleasure.

He derails your train of thought by shoving himself to the back of your throat. Your hands instinctively push his hips back to brace yourself. “Tsk, you need to be tied down don’t you?” He steps out of his pants pooled at his ankles.

He lifts you up, using your hair as a leash, leading you through the house, up to the master. The door was already open, a red glow flooding the hall. When you’re finally dragged through the door you see the fireplace blazing, candles surround the bed. For a moment you wonder why he had prepared all of this if you were supposed to leave.

“I was never gonna let you go.” He leads you to the bed, you crawl to the middle of the bed, waiting for further instruction. He walks around to the right side of the room, pulling open the top dresser drawer. He retrieves rope, coming back to stand beside the bed. “Just because you never saw me doesn’t mean it was the same for me.”.

He crawls up beside you, looping the rope into the headboard, tying your hands up against it. “I knew you were perfect on your first day at the manor.” He gets on top of you, kneeling so he can unbutton your white uniform top. “You did even see me, holding onto every word Bruce said, you were completely oblivious to the man following you around the mansion with cameras.” You didn’t even know the house had cameras. To be honest it shouldn’t since the things that go down here. You wonder what he’s watched you do, let your employees eat whatever they want, cut corners even though he says not to, take extra long breaks in less busy hours.

“Should I be weirded out? Cause that kinda turns me on.” You joke, poking fun at the fact that it was actually really creepy he watches you on the cameras. “You’re laughing now.” He scoots down the bed, stripping you of the rest of your clothes.

“How would you like your punishment?” He easily flips your body over, baring your ass to him. “I could whip you till you’re crying, begging me to stop.” He slaps your cheek, leaving a welt in the shape of his hand. He turns you back around and crawls up your body, pressing his cock to your lips again. “I could make you gag while I shove my dick deeper and deeper down your throat, and you’ll be begging me to breathe.” He pushes himself past the barrier your lips tried to form. Letting his tip make its way to the tightness of your throat. You can’t help but to swallow, causing your muscles to tighten. “Keep doing that and I’ll choose for you.” He pulls himself away from you, letting you catch your breath.

Bucky finds himself with his face between your legs. He couldn’t help himself but to dive right in and taste you. You were glistening from your own arousal. You bucked your hips into him, helping yourself get closer the high you’re both chasing. Right when your legs begin to shake he stops “or you could beg me to cum all night.”.

He comes up to face you, “All I know is you’ll be begging.”. Your blood shot eyes search his, how could you pick, all of them were exactly what you wanted. “None of those choices involve you inside me.”. You leave Bucky wordless as you wrap your untied legs around his waist, rubbing yourself against his hard cock.

He presses himself into you, the mess he already created allowed him to easily slip inside. The deeper he pushed you felt the air get sucked from your chest, your cheeks growing red hot. “No one’s ever..” you throw your head back, letting your jaw slack open. No one’s ever bottomed you out like this, stretched your walls while pounding on your cervix.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He remained unmoving until you adjusted to the size of him. The longer he stayed still, the more apparent the stinging and rips felt inside of you. “Please?” You just want him to move, even if it hurts. Bucky breaks out in a big smile “See baby? I told you you’d be begging me at some point tonight.”.

#avengers fanfiction #avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #bucky x reader #fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader smut

[lovelybarnes]

Flustered 2- B. Barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, natasha romanoff, sam wilson, wanda maximoff warnings: flustered!reader, bucky teasing her. I haven’t written for him in so long i hope htis doesn’t suck about: flustered part 2!! requested

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You say it very matter-of-fact, yourself nearly believable. Metal bumps against plastic, narrowed eyes trained on collecting the last of your yogurt.

“Oh, no idea, huh?” Natasha accuses, crossing her arms against her chest. “You’re a liar.”

You scoff, glancing at her for credibility. “I’m not lying.”

Sam frowns, leaning in close to your face. You stare right back at him over your yogurt cup, bewildered.

“I can’t tell,” he says, disbelieving. He turns to Natashs. “Are we sure she knows?”

“She is right here,” you snap. “And she thinks you both are insane.”

“His effect on you should be studied at universities,” Wanda quips.

“What effect?” you cry, letting what’s left of your breakfast clatter to the table.

“Come on,” Sam starts, observing you closely with a hopeful smile beaming although obscured. “You know you turn into a dopey idiot when RoboCop comes around, right?”

“Don’t call him that,” you mutter, a little quieter. “And I do not. We’re grown-ups, Sam. Who are together. In an adult relationship.”

“‘M not saying you’re not,” Sam shrugs. “I just…” He squints. “I need to hear you say it. You can’t seriously not see it, I’m concerned.”

“I don’t need your concern,” you argue. “And I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You’re a competent person,” Sam starts.

“Thank you,” you deadpan.

“Normally. And then… Bucky, like, smiles at you, and you get all… gooey.”

Your brows pull together. “What does that mean?”

Immediately, all of your friends fall into an array of “gooey.” Natasha stares up at the ceiling with doe eyes while Sam fans himself, falling over the counter. Even Wanda has cradled her chin in her palm.

“You guys are awful,” you declare.

“I should film your interactions,” Sam says in turn. “Are we awful… or are we accurate?”

“You’re awful,” you respond promptly. “And I genuinely can’t see where you’re getting this from because--”

“Hello.” Bucky.

The show begins.

He catches your eye and smiles, eyes crinkling in a promise that it’s genuine.

Your reaction is immediate, features melting like butter in the sun at his appearance. “Hi.” You straighten and blink fast, clearing your throat. “Hi. Hello, Bucky.”

He raises an eyebrow and says hello again, curved in amusement. When he says your name, it’s devastating. 

The others can see it happen, the moment your resolve begin to crumble in unsteady hands and trickle into Bucky’s. He sidles up next to you, familiar, wonderful heat kissing a bare stripe of your skin. Pathetically, you freeze up. It’s only for a moment because it’s him, because you’re overwhelmed, because your ribcage feels like it’s closing in around your heart, a shocking heat at the bottom of your stomach, but the team notices anyway, sharing a distinct look you can sense.

You turn to him, that line of itchy warmth crawling up your nose and into your eyes. He’s very pretty up close, eyes a green below ocean and smile a notch above cocky.

“You look nice,” he says casually, brushing his lips right below your eye.

“Thank you,” you breathe. He’s done this so many times, and not once has it dimmed your reaction. He looks at you like he’s proud of the fact and squeezes your hip. You feel as though he wants to kill you. “You.. you too.”

Unexpectedly, he dips down int the dip between your shoulder and your neck, his chin grazing your necklace. “Why’s everyone staring at us?”

You’re a little dizzy. With him, it’s like your surroundings are heightened and gone all at the same time, like it’s just you and him and the lovely sparks beneath your skin. You shrug. “They’re perverts.”

Bucky laughs. “‘Course. I already knew that. Don’t know why I asked.” He steps away from you in favor of the coffeemaker, but you’re stuck in the few seconds before, reminiscing on the heat of his skin sticky on your collarbone. Like a sweet, awful honey.

Natasha raises an eyebrow at you, you frown; you just get so caught up in his eyes.

“C’mon.” Bucky’s hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you from the kitchen and away from prying eyes. He has a mug in his fingers. One of yours, with a grinning Garfield dragging something along a faded white background.

“Do you know,” you start finally, standing close to him in the elevator, “that our friends think I act weird around you?”

“How so?”

“Gooey. That I go gooey around you.”

“Gooey?” he repeats thoughtfully, a canine concaving his bottom lip. “You? No.” 

“That’s what I said.”

“Good,” he says. “‘Cuz that’s ridiculous,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. As if expecting something, a hand goes to support the dip of your back quickly.

“Yeah,” you mutter indignantly, leaning into him. “Yeah…”

It’s love, you think. Prickly, overwhelming love that makes you want to hold his face in your hands and kiss him till you can’t breathe, and the cost of the image is the cost of the action when it comes to him.

He hums against your lips, grinning at you when you pull away. “You do this on purpose,” you accuse, its bite harmless with your breathlessness.

His pupils bounce between your features, his shoulders jumping with a shrug. “Dunno what you’re talking about.” He kisses you again, that same heat that stifles you crawling up his neck.

“Liar,” you croak.

Maybe, he thinks.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes fanfiction fluff #bucky barnes fanfic fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluffy fanfic #bucky barnes fluff fic #bucky barnes fluffy imagine #bucky barnes fluff imagine #bucky barnes fluff

[kaznejis]

Public display- Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part 1 - Public Affair 

Word Count- 6012

A/N- The support for Part 1 was honestly overwhelming- I did have initial plans for a part 2 though did not expect that many people to be interested! From me to you, enjoy this sequel packed with angst, fluff and action. Thank you ;) 

Monaco, six months earlier. 

“Records state that our friend over at Hydra owns this hotel,” Natasha mumbled beside you, her head bowed low and red-waves loose beneath a wide sun hat; complimented by a long, strapless designer dress, as commissioned by Tony. The two of you were the staple of the average residents of Monte Carlo, having essentially raided every designer outlet in the area. High-end cars rumbled throughout the street as heiress after heiress graced the steps of the grand hotel before you. 

“I’m pretty sure he also owns three other hotels on this stretch.” you snorted, Squinting up at the large, stained-glass windows of the hotel; the click of heeled boots and the spray of dancing water created a mirage of noise around you. The area was the opitimy of money; whilst you had flown in on a private jet- once again, courtesy of Tony- you felt like a fraud, your disguise almost see-through to the ancient, traditional blood of manicures and snobbery surrounding you. 

“We suspect he’s funded the majority of the Hydra operations that have been appearing over the last couple of years,” Steve grumbled over the comms, the pant of his breath evident as he paused to speak, “If we can take him down- Hydra will have lost their biggest investor.” 

“It’s not an end to an all, but it’s definitely something,” Natasha replied; her voice a constant mumble beside you, ever playing the role of an undercover spy perfectly. Natasha remained the constant, solid force in missions; always watching your back, always giving her all. You found yourself constantly following her footsteps in more circumstances than one. Looking to her for guidance. 

“Me and Steve are nearing the South entrance,” Bucky’s voice rumbled through the comms, your other guiding force entering the picture. Bucky’s strength and resilience and love tended to bleed into you, etching your soul and adding even the slightest element of care to every move you make. Every punch, every throw, every beating- Bucky was ever prevalent in your mind. He had gripped your hands and face and waist in the privacy of the back of Tony’s jet- inhaling your scent and ingraining it into his memory as he had told you to be strong, be safe, be vigilant. Adoring, you had stared up at him; cradled his metal hand and nodded along- forcing him to vow that he would do the same as he implored you to do, “Everybody stick to the original plan- Y/N and Nat; you can advance to the front desk.” 

Moving instantly, the two of you began to climb the steps to the entrance; feigning the image of two friends chattering, enjoying their holiday or returning from an early lunch. It didn’t matter what image you could create, as long as it was believed. Upon reaching the entrance, the doormen smiled at you, bowing graciously as they presented the open doors of the hotel’s entrance. 

“Easily done,” You gritted out behind a grin, bowing your head thankfully towards the men, “Go to the reception and get as much intel as you can; I’m going up to the penthouse.” 

“Y/N, are you sure?” Natasha turned to you then, her own saccharine smile gracing her features though her eyes remained down-turned with worry, “We can skip the intel and go together, take him down fast.” 

Vehemently, you shook your head, grasping her hand and pleading with your eyes, “We need that proof Nat, without records we’ll have nothing but a suspicious murder to show for this mission- we need to know what the income for this place is being turned over towards.” 

Natasha nodded reluctantly, “Be careful, okay?” her eyes closed for a moment as she allowed herself a breath before she departed from you, not allowing a second look as she strutted towards the desk where an unknowing, young male attendant awaited her. The perfect target. You set off towards the hotel’s corridors instantly, signs displaying a large quantity of numbers and different suite types directed the way as you explored the quiet corridors; the click of your heels the only sound present. 

As you turned a corner on the second floor; two familiar figures jogged from the other end of the hallway. Smirking, you bowed your head- your own sunhat creating a guise over your features as you headed towards them. “Miss, miss?” Steve panted, slowing as him and Bucky reached you, “We recommend that you vacate this hallway there is a-” 

You raised your head then, an eyebrow raised as you revealed yourself to the two, “Am I really that unrecognisable?” 

As Steve stuttered, Bucky smirked as he approached your side- wrapping the metal arm around your waist and planting a kiss at the side of your face, to which Steve rolled his eyes and turned away, “Of course not Doll- Steve’s just in ‘Cap Mode’” 

“Speaking of which.” Steve raised an eyebrow, moving to continue his pursuit. 

“Of course,” Bucky mused, beginning to depart only to return to your side and lean towards your ear, “That dress looks amazing on you by the way, Doll.” He replicated your initial smirk, jogging backwards and throwing you a wink before turning to follow behind Steve- who had already disappeared around the hallways corner. You continued on your own departure then, affording him a final smile before continuing your climb towards the penthouse. 

One foot in front of the other, over and over as you trailed the extensive halls of the hotel. 

-

For the room regularly occupied as a safe house for one of Hydra’s most powerful assailants, the lock was surprisingly easy to crack. The twist of a hairpin and the slightest pressure did the job- the lock clicking as the door swayed, its brass hinges squeaking abrasively, the sound loud and grating in the silence of the hallway. 

“I’m entering the lair,” you whispered into comms, loud enough for it to be heard throughout the ear pieces though quiet enough to deter detection from outside sources. A quick scan of the room told you that it was empty, though recently occupied- half-drank bottles of alcohol and cigarette stumps littered the table, complemented by the clothes strewn across the floor, “Give me five minutes.” 

“Be careful, Y/N,” Steve replied, “Nat’s got the intel, we’re a few blocks from the hotel and all civilians have been cleared from the nearby areas. Tony has got eyes on the penthouse from above- see you in five.” 

Double clicking the button attached to your ear piece- you affirmed that you had heard Steve’s words; silently confirming the start of your undercover exercise. Bypassing the mess within the entrance- you turned instantly to left; the plans that you had covered extensively highlighted that the office was to the left; gather evidence, wait for the suspect, kill the suspect, escape. It was a simple plan with simple steps- an exercise you’d done countless times, you could practically do this with your eyes closed. 

The gathering of evidence was the easiest step- a range of highly confidential material lay open across the large mahogany desk within the office; letters, invoices, even bills for the hotel itself. Within no time you had snapped pictures of the most interesting aspects, though not before a piece of paper caught your eye. It was at the corner of the large pile of letters; sticking out almost intentionally, as if asking to be found. Pulling it from the pile, your heart dropped instantly as the words before you became clear. 

H,

The Avengers, America’s greatest heroes, have finally turned to you as their target. Their plan will be ever-predictable; the one feeling the most boisterous and courageous will most likely volunteer themselves to be sent up to your penthouse during one of your annual stays as the others split off into teams. A strategy that would work, if you didn’t have my intel on your side. Ensure that the area is cleared and that the evidence is obvious. Make it too easy for them. 

I hope you will repay me for the assistance. 

It was a trap. It had all been a trap, and you had fallen directly into it. 

“Were you never taught not to snoop through someone else’s belongings?” A gruff voice sounded behind you, the click of a gun’s safety being turned off immediately following. 

“What is this?” you gritted out, hands raised beside your head as you stared determinedly at the desk, “Who did this?” 

“That’s none of your business, Sweetheart,” the man spoke, his tone laced with confidence, “Now- let’s do this the easy way, shall we? You’re going to come with me, tell me a little bit about this whole operation of yours and then we kill you. Understand?” 

You turned then, hands still raised in the air as you refused to show any signs of fear towards the man- he stumbled slightly at your movement, the gun in his hand wavering as he was shocked at your own confidence as you looked the man directly in the eye; face impassive as ever. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.” You gave the man no time to think as you immediately fell to your knees, rolling in between the man’s legs and slicing a cut into his thigh with the knife concealed into the thin sleeves of your dress, “All I can tell you about this operation, is that I’m here to kill you.” 

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” The man turned instantly, firing two shots towards your legs; the sound of the bullets deafening at such close range- your trained, meticulous instincts only allowing you a split second to roll away- the momentum allowing you to unholster a gun at your thigh-holster. You stood instantly, the gun poised precisely between your hands as you aimed it at him. You clicked off the safety, aiming the gun and- 

“Doll? Doll, were those gunshots you?” Bucky’s voice sounded through the comms, his voice tinged with worry- the plan had been to execute a clean, quiet kill; knife, poison, brute force. A gunshot did not come under the category of clean, quiet kill, setting off the alarms instantly, “Doll, we’re coming up there please answer me, please let-” 

The falter you had offered at the sound of Bucky’s voice caused you to pause for too long, within no time the man had bowled into you, slamming your back into the wall and ripping the earpiece from your ear, dropping it to the ground and instantly crushing it beneath his boot. Shit. 

“Now, we’re not going to do anymore playing around,” He growled into your face, his breath hot with anger against your cheeks and his arm barring you against the wall as you squirmed, “No more secret weapons, no more dancing around.” As he spoke, an entourage of armed men entered the room, an array of red pointers displayed against your chest. As the men entered, an explosion sounded nearby. 

Tony, they had taken Tony down. The Iron Man had survived worse, of course- but there was little the team would be able to do for you now. You were grossly outnumbered. As panic began to numb your senses; the worry clouding your eyesight- the butt of a gun connected with your forehead; effectively knocking you out. 

-

Three days, three days you were locked up in that basement. Another safe house, another dingy and dilapidated building occupied by the Hydra informants. Blood had dripped into your eyes as you hung from the wall- arms encased by chains and your lifeline hanging by a thread. 

“Your little boyfriend isn’t coming to save you.” They had spat, phlegm splattering against your cheeks as they had laughed- laughed at the so-called ‘Avenger’ that they had tricked so easily. You hadn’t blamed them- you had felt foolish, like the naive child you had once been; too excited by a chance at finery, revenge. Vengeance for Bucky and Steve. It was only in the darkness of what could’ve been night, as evidenced by the lack of torture you were given during those hours, that you allowed yourself to cry. Cursing yourself and your stupidity. 

You had wanted nothing but Bucky in those moments. Nothing but the intertwine of your legs under cold sheets and the tickle of his stubble against your skin; the giggles that it would garner from you as you begged him to stop. Every moment, every breath was spent thinking of Bucky. It was only when the sound of gunfire and a door crashing above you sounded that you felt like yourself again- the sound of familiar boots against the stone floor and the harsh grip against your face, the look in Bucky’s eyes as you had looked back at him- the relief crumpling his face as he sobbed, his grip on your face never loosening. 

Something changed then, between the two of you. It became real, the knot forming between you solidifying. It felt like forever. 

-

New York, Present day

“You kids really do think that I just have an unlimited sum of money, huh?” Tony mused from the kitchen counter, stirring himself a cup of coffee early in the morning, “I just held a huge charity gala, which was a success by the way, no thanks to you two.” 

“That’s because you do, Tony,” You gritted out, your fists clenched beneath the dining table, anger and determination fuelling you, “I need you to host a press conference, I need-” Bucky gripped your clenched fist beneath the table, uncurling it and intertwining his fingers with yours, his gaze sincere as he nodded comfortingly, you took a deep breath, “She tried to ruin our lives, Tony. We need to expose her, we need to do something.” 

Tony sighed, pausing midway as he raised the cup to his mouth, his gaze mirroring Bucky’s as he watched you from across the room, “Fine, kid. I’ll book you a room, reach out to a couple of my contacts. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” You nodded, your eyes teary as you smiled at Tony before turning to Bucky; his gaze remaining a solid force as he watched over you, continuing to grip your hand. 

“It’s gonna go fine, Doll,” He assured, dragging your hand with him as he moved to settle back in his seat. He was almost a mirror of that night in the kitchen- all sleep-tousled hair and his crumpled pyjama shirt; the evidence of the lines of a pillow still prevalent within his cheeks. The two of you had spent every second together since your conversation in that hallway, and the night that followed. His gaze a constant presence beside you as you worked out what to do, how to garner adequate revenge against those that had wronged you. 

The presence of those days in Monaco had always lingered at the back of your mind, and you assumed Bucky’s too. Whilst the team had managed to take out the army of men within the safe house you had been held captive at; your initial attacker, the Hydra informant- had escaped.

The reveal of a potential informant within the Avengers too shook the team- many outside of the Avengers itself refused to believe you, refused to take it further and potentially expose one of their own; one of the people that they worked alongside every day. 

You couldn’t blame them- though the failure to reach justice left you feeling empty, wronged. You had survived days of torture- only to be saved, returned and expected to let everything go back to normal. To scrub the blood from beneath your fingernails and climb the quinjet, onto the next operation. The events of the PR relationship and the lies that unfolded caused these thoughts to re-emerge; thoughts that had been submerged by training in the gym and the crinkles beside Bucky’s eyes. 

You felt like a pawn- a chess piece in the game of the rich and powerful. Orchestrated and trained to be used. 

During the days leading up to the conference, Bucky was a constant presence beside you- a hand on your back, fingers intertwined, a kiss to the side of your hair- it was almost like he was afraid to let go, afraid that the relationship posed before the public eye was all too real; that it truly had meant something. Despite it meaning nothing.

You had told him as such, a hand smoothing back his hair as you sat cross-legged on your bed, “The whole time I was thinking of you.” You had smiled, your cheeks warming as he cocked his head to the side, a chuffing sound escaping from his mouth as he allowed himself to breathe. 

“Me too, Doll,” He pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he inhaled your scent, his face pressed to your hair, “I’m sorry everything got so twisted-”

“No, no. It wasn’t your fault.” 

“Doll,”  He smiled sadly, those beautiful crinkles at the side of his eyes forming, “I should’ve known, I’ve run into a number of problems with those public representations executives- I should’ve known.” He nodded as he spoke, wholly convinced that this was his doing, not theirs. 

“I promise you, Buck. This wasn’t your fault and I will assure you of that until the day I die,” You vowed, your voice harsh with the iron-clad anger within, “But before I can show you- we have to take them down.” 

“I’ll be there, Doll, right behind you on that stage. If you need me to step in I will. I will be there.” 

Words wouldn’t have sufficiently amounted to display your awe of him, your love, the way you wanted him by your side forever- so, with your hands on his cheeks, you pulled him in- pressing your lips to his and pouring every words that you had never said to him into the kiss; smiling against his lips as he reciprocated, brushing a hand to the back of your neck and gripping- pulling you into his lap as you laughed into his mouth, lips never departing. 

In a way, that moment of reprieve; of love, prepared you for what was to come. 

-

The constant static of the Avengers tower surrounded you and raised the ends of your hair as you traipsed the hallway- the day of the conference. Your speech was written and had been studied meticulously, your words at their harshest- inflicting every cruel feeling that had been inflicted upon you, not just in the past week but during your time in the Avengers. The ever-watchful eyes, the unwanted criticisms, the ignorance and the altruism regarding yourself as a living, breathing human being. 

The people had never truly cared, they never would. But exposing their malice and manipulation would provide you with the revenge you deserved. The revenge you all deserved. 

The sound of heels clicking hastily caused you to pause, halting in your tracks as the footsteps were aimed purposefully in your direction, though before you could turn and face the intruder, a shrill voice sounded, “So, this is your big plan, huh?” Sophia, her once bouncy curls now reduced to an unruly hairstyle as she had evidently not stopped to allow the time for a meticulous hair routine that morning- her own actions were catching up already, even without the extent of her crimes being exposed, “Expose me?” She continued, reaching you finally as she waved her hands in her face- her nails raw, bitten down to their nail beds, “I was doing what was best for you-”

“You almost ruined my life!” You snapped, hair flying as you swung around to glare right back at her- your tone severe as you advanced, “I almost lost the love of my life because of your lies. And for what? A bit of money, fame.”

“You could do so much more, Y/N” Sophia shook her head, tone condescending but almost sympathetic as she widened her eyes at you, “You could be the biggest celebrity on the planet- we almost got there but you had to ‘fall in love’ with that-”

“Don’t even go there, Sophia.” You shook your head before repeating yourself, “You almost ruined my life- so I’m hitting the nail in the coffin for yours. What was it you said, me going public with Bucky would be ‘career suicide’?” 

“You’re going to regret this, Y/N.” She yelled after you, a cliche statement- though out of character for a simple representative like Sophia. The statement caused you to pause upon turning the corner towards the conference room- check the stability of the gun beneath your shirt and the knife stored in the boot of your shoe. 

“What’s up, Doll?” Bucky’s voice called from beside the door to the conference room- leaning up against the wall, one leg cocked before him as he stood in a full embellished suit and tie. Grinning, you shook your head, stopping in front of him to adjust his tie and smooth back his hair, “It’s gonna go great,” He nodded, his head tilting as he followed your ministrations against him, “You’re gonna take those bastards down, yeah?”

Nodding, you continued to grin at him, standing back to appraise his figure, “It’s going to go great.” You affirmed, accepting his hand as he led you towards the door. 

“Everyone’s here, a little scattered around but I’m sure you’ll get a chance to see everyone afterwards,” Bucky pushed the large doors as he spoke, the grip on your hand moving to lay on your back as he pushed you into the room. Cameras instantly begun to flash in your face, Tony’s influence already attracting the attention of the press as they yelled questions at you and demanded answers, “Everything will be answered shortly,” Bucky nodded at each individual absently, leading you through the crowd towards the selection of seating occupied by a number of Avengers. 

Wanda instantly vacated her seat and jogged to you, as much as her heels could allow, pulling you into a comforting embrace as she effectively stole you from Bucky, “You’ve got this Y/N,” she pulled back to grip your shoulders, squeezing as her bright eyes shone towards you, “Bring them down.” 

“Thank you, Wanda,” you smiled, turning to the rest of the group you watched as each member gave their own affirmations, the love you felt almost overpowering as you smiled and nodded tearfully at each Avenger- exchanging hugs and touches as each person moved to reassure you. As always, Bucky remained an ever-present figure within your peripheral- standing to the side and allowing you your moment as you made your way through each Avenger. 

Eventually, once the tears and the laughter had sufficed, you turned to Bucky. 

“Good luck,” He smiled, his eyes glazed over and gaze piercing in that way it always was as he stared down at you- a hand moving to brush the hair from your forehead and the tear tracks from your cheeks as he gave his final blessing. With one final nod, you turned- climbing the steps towards the raised platform as you took in the sheer amount of people present within the room. Not only had the entire Avengers team arrived, but the majority of Stark’s Enterprise itself had too, alongside a swarm of reporters each carrying their own equipment and abrasive opinions. Sophia sat in the very front and centre- her gaze severe as she glared up at you, awaiting her own demise and preparing an escape as a bag lay secured and ready to grab beside her chair. You could only nod at her, maturity remaining the bargaining factor as you reached the microphone, cleared your throat and arranged the papers before you. 

Bucky smiled up at you, an encouraging nod all you needed to begin. 

“I’d like to begin by thanking you all for coming today. I would like to recognise that this conference may be detrimental to many though it is necessary. Necessary for the so-called progression of the Avengers that you all vouch for, yet fail to accomplish,” taking a moment to pause, you surveyed the crowd- each member stunned into awaiting silence as they stared up at you, your next move a vital one, “During my experience within the Avengers- my accomplishments have been diminished to nothing but monetary value and publicity. I didn’t join the Avengers to be moulded into this, this object that you can flaunt at my expense. These feelings came to ahead when I was recently involved in a PR public relationship,” a sudden entourage of camera flashes begun, this is what they had been waiting for, “My relationship with John Walker was entirely organised by the Avengers’ Public Representations Department- my role as an idol to many young people was reduced to the latest on the front page of hundreds of tabloids.”

You turned then, a projector lowering behind you as you grabbed its remote, “I would like to present you with evidence of falsified documents within this department- majorly regarding my own real relationship with,” you paused, turning your gaze to Bucky, he nodded, “fellow Avenger, James Barnes.” 

Gasps could be heard throughout the room as an uproar instantly began at the sound of Bucky’s names- questions, shouts or simply looks of shock were directed your way as you stared stone-faced into the crowd. To the side, Bucky was grinning- head-bowed and chuckling as the Avengers surrounding him held their own grins. Finally.

As the uproar died down at your own lack of response, you clicked the button on your remote- displaying a picture of the document Bucky had been forced to sign with a side-by-side comparison of the one you had signed. Refusal stilled you, refusal to look back and see the contract that had almost destroyed your relationship- tied chains around the sincere love you felt and locked you in place, on display to the ever watchful eyes of the public.  

Instead, you continued to watch the audience- see their own individual reactions as the lives of those around them came crashing down. Your eyes turned to Sophia then, still seated and cross-legged in front and centre. You expected her eyes to be shining, regret spoiling her features as she would attempt to make an escape from the room, bag clutched and unruly hair flying as she would flee. 

Her face held a different tune. 

She was grinning, her pearly-teeth shining as her eyes flickered between you and the screen- her cheeks twitched as if she was holding in a laugh. Her reaction led you to turn to other members of the crowd, who’s faces sung a distinctly different chord.

Horror. 

They looked horrified. 

Tony stood then, his chair flying backwards as he barked orders to Friday, “Turn this off, stop the broadcast Friday. Who the hell did this? Get whoever did this out of my system!”

“What-” you mumbled to yourself, gripping the stand before you as you turned, confused as to how pictures of a contract had caused such a spectacle. 

The pictures of the contract you had edited together and annotated were not displayed upon the screen. Instead, it was a video. You breath sped as you saw what you were watching, your own horror poisoning the breaths in your throat and weakening your knees. Front and centre, the focal point of the video was you. 

You from six months ago in Monaco. It was a video of you hanging from the wall; body binded with chains as your face was covered in blood and dark bruises prominent on every inch of your skin. The blood that had clouded your vision could be seen from an outsider's perspective here- oozing from a gash on your forehead and filling your eyes, painting your eyelids red and glueing them together. 

Struggling to breathe, you couldn’t tear your eyes away- you could only watch as your breaths hitched, the fight kicked out of you as you simply hung there. The men that had beaten you were not present in the video, though it was very obviously almost-immediately after one had taken place, your wounds were fresh, too fresh. 

“Y/N? Y/N, you need to look away from that for me, okay?” A voice sounded behind you, pleading  in its timbre, familiar and comforting as a hand attempted to turn your face, “We’re doing everything we can to get it off, Steve and the team are getting everyone out but I need you to look-” before the voice could continue its begging, a ear-piercing eruption sounded throughout the room. The walls of the conference room and the projector itself bowing inwards- the heat scouring your skin as the voice from before pushed you down and shielded you with their form. 

You could only look at the figure, who turned out to be Bucky, in shock as he knelt over you; the ringing in your ears violent as he pulled you up, yelling at you to run and dragging you from the room. The rush of open wind pulled you from the depths as you entered the adjacent hallway, the side of the building entirely open due to the explosion- “What is going on?” You cried, gripping Bucky’s hand as the two of you rushed to the nearby stairwell. 

“I think they’re back Doll,” Bucky turned to you as you entered the safety of the stairway, “We need to get as far away from here as possible- if that video tells us anything, they are back for you.” 

“Sophia,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you reached a conclusion, gripping Bucky’s arm as you pulled to a stop, “Oh my god, Buck, Sophia!”

“No, Y/N, we can’t go back-”

“No, no. The informant, Buck. The person that warned Hydra, it was her,” your brain sped erratically, remembering the grin she had given you as the video had begun to play, the threats to your life, “She warned Hydra, we have to stop her.”

Bucky opened his mouth, a reply forming- but before he could speak, a jolt of electricity passed through your fingers as the volt was directed into his back. You could only watch as the man you loved collapsed before you, “Well, aren’t you smart,” Sophia’s voice grated from behind him, her heels clicking as she continued towards you, “I told you that you would regret trying to ruin my life, so here we are.”

You spared her the honour of a reply, instead opting to jump at her, kicking the baton from her hands and pinning her to the ground, “You are finished, Sophia.” 

“No, she’ll be just fine,” another voice piped up from lower down the stairway, that same gruff voice from Monaco. He was here, “You could join her, Y/N. Live under my care and provide me with a bit of intel every now and then- you would be ridiculous to reject such an offer.”

“Well then I guess I am,” You spat, within a split second you had raised yourself from your crouched position, effectively lifting Sophia by the shoulders and slamming her head into the ground, knocking her out cold. The man was visibly displeased with your decision as evidenced by his change in stance as he instantly stormed up the stairs towards you, hoisting himself over the railings and engaging you in combat. You had trained for this, the long, winding months of your recovery were fuelled by the focus of sparring in the gym. You fought back swiftly, your movements precise as you delivered a kick to his gut and a clip across his jaw in quick succession. 

“Someone’s been working on their fighting,” He mused, using the distraction of your reply as a chance to grab you by the hair, spinning you in place and pinning you against the wall, “But you’ll still be the little rabbit I saw in that basement. 

“Go to hell,” You snapped, jabbing an elbow backwards and using your other hand to unholster the gun from beneath your shirt. Reversing the roles between you two, you watched as he cowered against the bannister, visibly unprepared for you to have hidden a gun within your formal outfit; not suitable for combat whatsoever. You faltered, considering simply handing him over to the police- instilling justice in its traditional form. 

But then you thought about the root of the operation, the torture that you and Bucky faced at the hands of Hydra- at the disgusting men that resided within the walls of those hydra bases. You instantly delivered a shot to his head, the bullet pinging against the metal of the stairway behind him as it tore clean through his skull. 

Wasting no time, you rushed over to Bucky’s pliant figure, sprawled on the ground as his body hitched with electricity every handful of moments, though he seemed to be coming back to consciousness; the speed of his super soldier healing and the bang of the gun pulling him back to consciousness, “Bucky, Buck. I need you to wake up.” You shook him, cradling the back of his head in your palm as you awaited a response. Sophia lay, similarly knocked out behind you, her mouth slack and blood leaking from her ears as she lay there. She would face the traditional methods of justice- handed over to the authorities for her attacks and barred from society for her infiltration. 

A groan sounding below you pulled your eyesight back to Bucky, stroking the sides of his face as he opened his eyes groggily- squinting in the light of the stairway, “Your face, Doll.” he mumbled; making you aware of the blood dripping from your potentially broken nose and the swelling of your eyes.

“You should see the other guy,” you laughed, gesturing to the bodies behind you, “Literally.”

“Shit, Doll.” Bucky swore, rubbing at his side as he hoisted himself upwards into a seated position, “We need to get out of here.”

“Wait, we need-” sighing, you closed your eyes briefly, gesturing to Sophia behind you, “We need to get her out of here; hand her over to the authorities the right way. She needs to be interrogated, find out what she know.” 

Bucky nodded, his face grim as he pulled himself to stand, with the support of your arm, aiding you in lifting Sophia up and limping together as you carried her from the scene- the beams of the destroyed hallway creaking with each step- the building beginning to fall apart above you. 

Once the situation was explained, with Sophia and a handful of armed men being escorted from the scene into an entourage of police vans. Bucky returned to your side, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you into a kiss and gripping at your sides, careful in avoiding your sore spots. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay Doll,” he nodded sincerely, his eyebrows scrunched as he stared down at you, “I was so scared I was gonna wake up to you gone again.” 

Shaking your head, you pulled Bucky into another kiss- threading your fingers through his hair and caressing the base of his scalp, “You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

As you embraced, you turned to watch the scene before you- firetrucks extinguished the fires erupting from the explosion; hoards of employees stood aimlessly, simply staring up at their place of work, now diminished to ruins and rubble. Steve and Natasha were helping injured civilians find help whilst others kept the crowds away from the damage. Most amusingly, Tony stood only a few feet away from you and Bucky, simply staring up at the building; hands on hips and lost in thought. 

“Buck, we’re gonna have a shit-ton of paperwork to fill out.” 

-

AMERICA’S NEW FAVOURITE COUPLE

Shocking events have arose at the recent Avenger’s conference as Y/N L/N revealed that her relationship with John Walker was indeed fake and instead she is in a long-term relationship with fellow Avenger, James Barnes. Our reporters watched in shock as Y/N revealed this- though, me personally? I knew it all along! Count me as your most trusted source in celebrity love lives- I’ve never been wrong!

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #MCU #MCU fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes x y/n

[buckets-and-trees]

Warm Shadows - Let All Light Go (2/4)

Fandom: MCU Collection: Warm Shadows Title: Let All Light Go Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Steve x f!Omega!Reader, existing Alpha!Bucky x f!Omega!Reader Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: Now that he's claimed you, Captain Hydra takes you back to his new base of operations, his little omega bait for the Soldat. But the bond between an alpha and an omega is a powerful thing that shouldn't be trifled with. [sequel to When You Fall On Me Like Night]

Content Warnings: DARK, a/b/o dynamics, explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT/omega heat, oral - female receiving, vaginal fingering, breast play, vaginal intercourse

Logistical Notes: We've got a dose of pride for @nickfowlerrr's Seven Deadly Sins + Seven Holy Virtues writing event. Now this second part is too late for the Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon, but I had most of it written before the challenge closed, and so I had plucked another dialogue prompt from her list, so I still want to give @witchywithwhiskey credit where it's due, and you'll find the prompt in bold and italics when it appears.

Additional Notes: I had no intention of making this three times as long as the original, but Steve had other plans. So many other plans. Thanks to @biteofcherry for letting me suss out a couple of the things I had questions on plot-wise. Title from Hozier's De Selby (Part 2).

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Steve doesn’t smile anymore. He hasn’t smiled in weeks. And yet the frown on his face is more than the non-smile stoicism that had taken over his demeanor since the ambush outside of Turin. He exhales deeply, washing away the frown as he straps your limp body into the jump seat of the stealth jet. Unconscious and sedated, your head falls forward though your torso is held back by the chest harness of the safety belt. Steve angles your head back against the headrest because if you got a crick in your neck, it will be a problem he doesn’t want to hear you try and complain about later.

He had achieved his objective in coming to Wakanda. Though the operation had played out with slight differences from what he had anticipated, it had gone as close as he could have logically projected in almost every aspect. He knew Bucky. No. The Winter soldier, he corrects. And he knew you. As players in this piece of the plan, you had both been reliably predictable.

As a super soldier Steve knew the strengths, the weaknesses, the limitations, and what Barnes would be susceptible to. That’s why he had been so prepared in laying his trap and incapacitating the asset.

Overpowering you had been easy.

Claiming you had split a slow but building tremor to his system. It had changed what he’d intended to do.

A few hours later as he approaches the remote Hydra base, that disconcerting feeling in his brain that he is working to tamp down still smolders with something unsettled that makes him flick his eyes up to the mirror that allows the pilot to check the interior behind him to see that you’re still in the same state of sedation.

His new conditioning will help him to control this irritating itch.

After touching down and rolling into the hangar, Steve unbuckles you from the seat and slings your unconscious body over his shoulder. He doesn’t stop walking but proceeds to give his brief mission report to the ranking officer on base who was waiting to meet him at the base of the small jet’s cargo ramp as he exits. This man is not his handler but his liaison for the time being. He’s competent enough that Steve if rarely frustrated with him. The power dynamics are something Steve is constantly aware of. Hydra wants to know they are in control and yet learned with the Winter Soldier that an asset stripped of complete autonomy was more inflexible to work with – and impossible to pull back when he broke free. They don’t want to make the same mistake with him, but they give him no illusion over who his allegiance is to now. It’s not a leash, but an unmistakable tether that they will let him tenuously control as long as he ultimately complies.

It's why he has tolerable and private living quarters where he deposits you on top the large bed. He leaves a bottle of water next to you and then leaves. The door to his quarters is controlled by a fingerprint recognition, allowing Steve a fair amount of control over who can come in and out, and he has no intention of giving you access.

He goes to the mess to get food. No one approaches him while he eats. He collects two of the meal boxes that are ready to go – one marked for lunch, one marked for dinner – and brings them back for you.

You’re still asleep when he returns. He takes the time to order routine meal delivery to his quarters for you long term as well as a supply of standard issue clothes and laundry service. This base is a hub for research and development, so the standard of living is functional and minimalistic, which suits him fine, and that is all you will require as his omega.

It's mid afternoon before you finally wake, and he can sense the moment you resume consciousness – his heightened senses heard the change in your breathing, but there’s also an innate sense about it. He wasn’t expecting that.

He shifts slightly where he sits in a boxy armchair reading over some new intelligence reports on his tablet to watch you. You slowly sit up causing the water bottle he set on the mattress next to you to roll against your body, and you frown, then look around and see him almost immediately. Fear and anger show immediately in your face, exactly as he expected.

“Your food is on the counter,” he says flatly.

“I don’t want it.”

“You will,” he responds.

You look away from him, scan the single-room quarters, and then look down to the water bottle again. He hears your small sigh before you pick it up, unscrew the top to take a few sips, then close it and shift to one side of the bed and lay back down, curling up, facing away from him. There’s an east-facing window on that side of the room.

None of this behavior is unexpected, and it’s of no matter to him. He has you here, he’s keeping you here as long as necessary. You’re hurt, you will hold onto your pride at the offense for a long while yet, and he expects it. He’s not offended. It will wear away.

He has a few projects he planned to touch base with various research and development teams on the base, and so now that he knows you’re alert and fine, he has no problem resuming his operations and routines.

The single declaration over the food is all you say to him for the first few days.

Not that he is there much either. He has missions, projects, agendas – his own and Hydra’s, and certainly doesn’t exist to coddle his omega.

An omega, he reminds himself.

There is only one bed, and he doesn’t say one word about it to you. The first night when he returns, you are curled in on yourself on the edge of the bed much as you had been earlier when he left (though he notes you had eaten the roll from the dinner box, so you had moved at some point). He wordlessly changes into his sleepwear and slides beneath the sheets. He figures if it bothers you enough, you can choose to sleep on the small couch or the floor, but he isn’t going to give up the bed to accommodate you.

On the third day, you rise when he does. The small bathroom is the only private part of the living quarters, so he is closed off from you while he showers, but as he eats breakfast and finishes the rest of his morning routine, you sit in the armchair, legs curled up, and watch him with a cool storm in your eyes.

When he returns on the fourth night, you smell different. You wear the same clothes, but you’ve clearly showered, and you must have done what you could to clean your clothes in the sink because you're wearing them and not the base-issued garments. You’re already curled up on your side of the bed, still on top of the bedding, barefoot, but not sleeping yet.

Your state of unrest is burdening his thoughts. It’s an imposition he can’t have.

The way you bleed into his consciousness was the only thing he had stupidly forgotten to even account for in this maneuver to draw out the Soldat. Part of it was because he hadn’t been entirely sure he could successfully make the claiming bond – he knew he could get the bite, but it had been a gamble on whether it would work.

It had.

Though it hadn’t been like a clap of lightning but more like an invisible string threaded between the two of you. He had used it to manipulate the situation that night, but the reality of it had also shifted what his original plan for you had been.

Having never bonded with an omega, he had heard varying reports of how the connections could develop between an alpha and an omega. Some said it was strong enough to reach a degree of non-verbal communication, but this seemed to be developing as more of a constant, pressing awareness as the string wove further through him as the days passed, but an awareness that he was learning to read and decipher.

That cool storm that brewed in your eyes any of the few times you looked at him had to be tamed. He didn’t expect it to go away, but he could not have the rage brewing, growing, and pulsing from you to him. He can’t afford the distraction.

In an operations meeting one of the analysts sits down to the table with two unnecessary books in the stack of things they’ve brought with them, and he remembers that you loved to read.

He deposits a linen tote bag with a stack of books on your bedside table that night, returning after you’re already asleep.

He leaves for a mission across the globe before you wake the next morning.

When he returns three days later, it’s mid-afternoon, and he goes to his quarters after the mission debriefing. You’re sitting almost comfortably on the couch with one of the books. You still regard him with cold, guarded eyes, but you’re wearing the base-issued clothing. It’s plain, utilitarian, slate grey.

He remains with you the rest of the evening, the two of you eating dinner together at the small table in one corner of the room when meals are delivered. You don’t look at him, and he doesn’t watch you too much. He thought he had been focused on the mission. He thinks now the focus had come easily again because you were less angry, an icy ache rather than the rampant and enflamed rage that was only further agitated without anything to do.

The next day is unremarkable with this new development. You read, you wear different clothes from the base again, and he is back to his standard on-base routine, returning to his quarters after dinner but before dark. It’s the same the day after, and then the day after that. The only thing that changes at the end of one more day, is that once you’re settled to sleep and he slides into bed a quarter of an hour later, he’s about to drop off to sleep when he hears you take a deep breath.

His own heart stills. What are you about to do?

“Can I have normal clothes?” you ask softly.

One request could lead to another request, and another.

But if they’re as simple as this, easy enough to appease, he could say yes until he needs to refuse you something he’s not willing to entertain.

“I’ll see it done.”

“Oh,” your response is small, surprised.

“Now sleep,” he says, not a command.

Mid-morning he has a break between consultations, and he pulls one of the base caretakers aside and charges them with accommodating your request.

He returns to you before dinner that night. He simply finished his work earlier than usual that day, it’s nothing more than that. You’re in jeans and a lightweight crewneck sweatshirt. Eating dinner is another quiet affair, but the easiest it’s been out of the few times you’ve shared any meals in this place.

Over the next week he eats breakfast with you and most of his dinners. There’s a sadness that’s growing, but he is also melting the glacier of your guarded hostility.

While eating dinner one evening, you ask, “Where are we?”

“A Hydra research and development facility.”

You give it another moment, and then you press further, “And where’s this facility located?”

He looks up at you across the table and gives a dark, wry smirk. “Europe.” His tone is clipped. He can see you know that’s the end of the information he’s going to give you on the matter.

“How are your books?” he ventures after a few minutes. He had gone to the bookshop in the town to purchase a second stock of books for you earlier in the week.

“I appreciate them,” you answer. Without looking back up at him, you say, “The old you liked to read.”

He glowers at you, but he can see there’s almost a warmth in your eyes. It does something to him, so he drops his eyes back to his plate.

He stands abruptly and takes his plate to the counter by the sink, then he leaves. He won’t entertain that line of conversation with you. He paces through the facility for an hour before he returns. When he sees you seem to have been waiting for him, there’s a small warmth in his chest. You just nod at him, and he nods in return. No more words are exchanged between you that night.

When you both finally retire to bed, he doesn’t say a word or give any sign of reacting to you pulling the covers back on your side of the bed for the first time in this space and climbing into them, he simply does the same on his side. You still stay rigidly still and curled up, nearly on the edge of the mattress, but it’s more than he ever expected from you. The nights following, you maintain this step forward in proximity.

He notices your hand going to your bonding mark from Bucky over the following days, and it happens more and more frequently. He almost says something, but as he scrutinizes your actions, he sees you do it without seeming to think about it. It bothers him, but when he sees it’s not intentional, it’s not jealousy or rage that eats at him, it’s something else.

Because why hasn’t the Soldat come for you yet?

That was the object of the game, after all.

He was sure he hadn’t underestimated the Soldat’s skills or Bucky’s devotion to you. Bucky had, in fact, been spotted close enough in the region that the whole base had been on red alert for three days, certain the Winter Soldier would strike, but he hadn’t. Then the reports were he’d gone further north and left Italy altogether, so the alert had gone down from red to orange, and now sat at yellow - standard caution and operating procedures.

It was bothering him further because you were supposed to be Bucky’s beloved omega. How could he abandon you this long? Work so carelessly? Soldat should be desperate and raising hell at this point.

Because at this point?

It’s why Steve decides to embark on one more mission. He doesn’t tell you where he is going. He didn’t tell you even that he is going. He could already feel your unease growing, the questions and uncertainty. He doesn’t need his omega further agitated.

His mission is quick and successful.

As he returns, there is a sudden spike of fear and adrenaline when he is about an hour out from the base. It burns through his system, and he hasn’t felt any emotions overpower him this strongly in weeks and weeks, but after less than a minute it’s snuffs out almost as quickly as it had flared.

Twenty minutes from landing, a call buzzes in over his comms.

“Captain, our base has been attacked, but we are clear from intruders and in active recovery mode now,” his liaison’s voice relays.

“Intruders?” he growls.

“Full report forthcoming and will be ready by the time you arrive. You are cleared for landing but divert to the machine storage facility rather than our standard hangar, we’ve sustained damage there. End communication.”

Steve slams his fist against the arm rest of the seat – the place he knew could sustain the brunt of his impatience – and it breaks off, smashed away completely.

His landing approach gives him a view of the obvious devastation to the base, the entire northwest quadrant still in flames, but with crews working quickly to extinguish the fire.

His liaison is waiting in a truck to drive from the storage on the outskirts back to the main base.

“Twenty-two casualties, six injured, two hundred on evacuation disbursement orders. Only beta essential personnel and the damage control teams remain, prime essential personnel were evacuated as soon as the intruder was reported.”

Steve frowns. “Identity?”

“Confirmed as the Soldat.”

Steve nods. “You said intruders when you contacted me on approach.”

“We’ve since confirmed it was the Winter Soldier and only him.”

He nods again. That news wasn’t surprising. Had he known I would be gone? He was certainly cutting it close, waiting until almost the eleventh hour to come for his omega.

“Status of the omega?”

“We sedated and moved the omega to our facility outside of Geneva.”

Steve’s entire chest seizes in rage – not only moving his omega without consulting him, but to sedate her without any thought? It doesn’t matter that it’s standard protocol for prisoners, you’re his omega. However, every alarm in his head rings immediately that he can not show any ripple of emotion or he may very well never see his omega again. He won’t make the same mistake again – not for a third time.

“Geneva will be the next center of operations for current projects?” he asks.

“Correct. Early calculations project that this base can be functional again in four to five months, and we’ll evaluate whether projects will move back, or continue in Geneva and other bases in the region and clear the way for new initiatives here. We thought you would want to see evidence and damages yourself here first, which is why I didn’t redirect you once we had entered the first recovery stages after clearing all immediate threats, Captain.”

“The logical call,” he agrees.

Four and a half hours later, he touches down in Geneva, but it’s another two hours before he can escape all the protocol and regrouping strategy conversations. Within ten minutes after that, he’s in the new living quarters assigned to him on the Swiss base.

And there you are. Haphazardly deposited on the bed, but there all the same. He lets out a breath as he closes the door behind him. It locks automatically. He drops his pack on the couch and then makes his way to you. He rights your body, laying you fully across the bed and straightening your limbs. He removes your shoes and tucks a pillow beneath your head. He could smell you immediately on entering the quarters, but handling your body now confirms you’re dangerously close to breaking into your heat a day earlier than you were supposed to. He has no doubt it’s due to the distress of the day. That spike of fear and adrenaline he felt earlier had to have been you moments before you were sedated for transport.

He examines your neck, but sees no evidence of an injection, which leaves sedation by inhalation. In a situation where they needed efficiency and couldn’t chance a miscalculation of precision, it was the logical move. It also narrows things down to one of two compounds currently in use for inhaled sedation, which he appreciates.

Then he sees the bloom of a bruise forming already on your arm just above the elbow, and his brow furrows. He will review the footage and he will find out who did this to you.

Satisfied in general over your state – even breathing and no other visible injuries – he turns his attention to the new living quarters. It’s still a studio set up, but moderately larger than the Turin facility. There he’d been assigned quarters for an individual, and this is clearly one of the units designed for Hydra personnel with a partner. A marked difference here is an area that is sectioned off as a study with a desk and a bookshelf. There are already some books there, but empty shelves that can be filled as well.

There’s a decently sized case on the table in the kitchenette area. Inside is a selection of personal effects transported here from Turin, likely collected after the initial evacuation of personnel, but delivered here in those first two hours while he was in the strategy meetings upon arrival. There are a few items of his clothing, a modest selection of the wardrobe he’d arranged for you, toiletries, and even your small accumulation of books.

He has just finished unpacking the case when he can sense you stirring on the bed. A moment later he feels the spike of unease and tension as you register the new surroundings, sitting up on the bed, but he’s already approaching you.

He can feel the diminution of your nerves when your eyes land on him, but he sees the initial wave of relief in your eyes that you also try and stamp away in an instant.

He sits cautiously but with no apology on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Where are we?”

“A new facility.”

Your eyes study him for a moment. He knows you’re assessing that his answer means he won’t give you details. “Still in Europe?”

He nods.

“How long since the former facility was compromised?” you ask.

He smirks. You were always intelligent – not that it would have been difficult to figure out, but he’s proud of how quickly your mind works.

You huff at his hesitation and roll your eyes. “If you think I’ll use the information to try and figure out where we might be, I don’t know where we started, so it won’t be of any use to me, I’m just hungry and want to know how much time I’ve lost.”

“It’s been somewhere between seven to eight hours.”

He reaches for his communications tablet and quickly orders a standard meal for each of you to be delivered as he hasn’t eaten much either.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” you break the silence again. “Bucky found me.”

He hadn’t planned to tell you, but he won’t lie to you. “Yes”

“He’ll find me again. He said that wherever I went, he would find me.”

“Oh, I know.” His stare is back on you. “That’s the entire point. I need the Soldat.”

The silence that builds between you two is full of anger on your side. There’s nothing else for him to explain, but he’s curious to see how long you’ll keep this moment stretching on before ending it or saying something else.

But it grows more and more uncomfortable, and you try not to fidget. You’ve never been one to fidget, and certainly not over these past few weeks at any point around him. Then he notices the beads of perspiration gathering on your brow.

“Your heat, Omega.”

“My heat, not yours.”

“Sure,” he laughs cruelly. He reaches out to touch your cheek, somewhat patronizingly.

“Don’t touch me!” you snarl and snap your jaws at him, causing him to withdraw his hand immediately. “I don’t need you.”

“Fine.” He stands and retreats, not because he fears you in the slightest, but because he won’t fight your petulance, not when he has better things he can do at least for now. “Face your heat alone, Omega.”

He leaves, hearing you let out another impatient huff just as the door closes behind him.

He leaves you in pursuit of one of the data analysis rooms. If you’re going to be difficult and refuse him, he can do better things with his time until you’re ready to bend and keen for him. Once there, he logs into the system and pulls up the footage from Turin. He watches every frame of the Winter Soldier’s attack on the facility. It was shown earlier when he was meeting with the Hydra officers in debriefing the attack, but now he can study it alone in its entirety, moving from camera to camera outside, and then through each hallway and room without commentary from anyone else, able to slow down and rewind each moment as he sees fit.

It’s masterful.

And he looks directly at cameras after many of the kills. Twenty-two casualties and only six injuries? That’s intentional. He knows the Soldat could have executed this more quietly, and that’s evident in how he exits when he realizes you’ve been moved. From that point, his exit strategy has him engaging with almost no one, but setting fires and explosions, leaving enough damage in his wake to send his message.

It’s effective.

Steve narrows the block of time from the incident on the base and watches additional footage from the same ten-minute period. It’s every frame of the footage related to your acquisition, sedation, and transport from the base. He is interested in discovering just how the Soldat knew when to retreat, and he leaves notes in his log and in addition to drafting and sending a memo with some of his theories and observations to his primary liaison and a few of the officers on the taskforce. But his primary objective was to figure out who handled you so roughly, and he does. They will be dealt with later. He can’t expose such a personally driven need to deal out punishment.

While he’s been gone he’s felt the tenor of your emotions tugging at him – not tugging insistently, and with how tightly you’ve tried to control and suppress your emotions over the past few weeks, this must mean you’re battling to keep things at bay, pushed beneath the surface. As soon as he enters, he clocks the spiking fluctuations of your hormones. Since returning with you from Wakanda, he’s read extensively over the heat cycles, and this situation gives all the signs that you’re vacillating precaiously between falling into either a standard heat or a dry heat. You’re trying to stave off the heat as long as possible, but it will come, and if you fight it too hard, it will be a dry heat, which will be physically and mentally painful for you and difficult for him to navigate with you. He needs to edge you carefully from that tipping point of the dry heat.

You’re sitting at the table, having polished off one of the meals already and eating the last bits of the other one. It looks like they were boxes with sandwiches, fruit, and vegetables. You’ve left the celery from both servings. He smirks, but he’s glad you’ve eaten. That’s a good sign.

In another attempt at normalcy, desperate to keep things at bay, you push the chair out across the table from you with your foot, nodding for him to sit. You try and engage him in completely normal lines of conversation. He knows what you’re doing. He’ll entertain it for at least a little while so he can assess more of your state and how he should handle it.

He’s more concerned with watching you than listening to what you’re saying. You stand to refill your cup with water, and he follows you to the sink. He reaches into the cupboard and gets a glass of his own, encroaching somewhat into your space very casually. It doesn’t put you on edge, so he eases even closer, as you continue to talk. He puts a hand on your shoulder and leans in to fill his cup with the tap. There’s a slight hitch in your breathing at his proximity. He pushes the teasing of his closeness even more, moving his hand down your arm and resting it on the counter next to yours.

“I know what you need, Omega,” he whispers against the shell of your ear.

He can feel you do everything you can to remain still.

But then you turn your head ever so slightly toward him. “The last time you touched me, you humiliated me.” Your voice is flat.

He doesn’t respond, but he also doesn’t move.

Finally, you ask, “What did they do to you?” your voice barely above a whisper.

The dangerous question comes out of nowhere, and the surge of emotion it evokes in him is immediate. He growls, whipping away, not even thinking before he slams his fists on the table. It splits in two clean pieces. He grabs one before it even falls to the floor and throws it against the wall, smashing it, splinters flying.

He turns back, advancing on you, and you’re already trembling. He doesn’t relent, forcing you up against the wall, caging you in. He pounds his fist into the wall right above your head, and you close your eyes, afraid to move. He can smell the fear in your scent now, but there can be no confusion here.

“No, Omega,” he speaks low, and his other hand moves lightning fast to grip your chin. He can feel your pulse racing beneath his fingers. “Look at me.” You open your eyes. “We aren’t doing that.”

He leaves a beat of silence between you.

“Do you understand?”

You nod.

He drops your chin, then grips the neck of your shirt and yanks, ripping the fabric down the front and jerking you forward, making you bump into his chest. He picks you up and hauls you across the room with a few furious strides to drop you onto one of the armchairs.

You right yourself in the seat as he steps back, but only an arm’s length away. He doesn’t have to use his alpha voice or say the words. He knows the look he gives you communicates his instruction: stay put, don’t move.

He slowly undresses, unfastening, unbuckling, unzipping. He places each article of his dark tactical suit in an orderly pile on the coffee table. It’s purposeful, this tactic. The onset of your heat is only a moment away. You’ve been doing everything in your power to stave it off. Part of him clocks this enormous show of strength and sees it for more than stubbornness, recognizing the discipline and power within you. But this has gone on long enough, he needs you to finally tumble over the edge, and he will push you if he must.

He watches you watching him as he reveals each expanse of naked flesh – arms and torso, legs, and finally his loins when he slips off his boxer briefs. He’s hard for you, of course he is, the pheromones have been flooding out of you, and he wasn’t tempted to touch you in Turin, but now it’s all he can think about. He wants your body supple and pliant, submissive beneath him. He stands above you, looming, imposing – he knows he is, and he wants you to feel that he can do this – and pumps his cock slowly with his own fist.

He does it a few more times, watching you watch him. He sees the small ripple of a shudder you can’t suppress when your breath hitches.

“Undress,” he commands.

Your jaw ticks up. He knows you don’t like it – he felt it the first time he gave you an alpha command, and he hasn��t again until this moment. You look down as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra and slide it off, dropping it to the floor. You stubbornly refuse to meet his eye since he’s making you do this – he knows it. You hook your thumbs into your waistband, and you push your leggings and underwear down in a slight huff.

“Spread your legs,” he issues another command.

You do, still refusing to meet his eye. Part of it is the irritation over the commands, but he knows part of it is also the trepidation still pulsing through you. He doesn’t want to make this easy for you, but he doesn’t want you to suffer the agony of a dry heat where you’ll be agitated, devoid of slick, in pain, and distressed.

He sinks to his knees between your parted thighs, but now you can’t help but look at him staking his claim there so close to your exposed core. He can see you have a million questions in your eyes, it’s the most you’ve allowed him to glimpse of you – the real you – these past weeks.

He lowers his head, keeping his eyes on yours, and licks a slow, broad stripe from the side of your knee along the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He can feel you tense and hold your breath. And he stops inches from your warm cunt, pulling back and kneeling back on his heels.

You whimper.

He knows he has you now.

“Touch yourself, Omega,” he doles out the third command. He knows how he wants this to play out.

“Don’t make me,” you plead, but your hands are already slowly moving to your center.

“Do it,” he barks, and you flinch.

There’s a little bit of slick between your pussy lips, and he watches you trace a finger slowly over your folds, up and down. You drop your head down and to the side, refusing once more to look at him.

“Omega, have you ever experienced the pain of a dry heat?”

You huff.

“Is that what you want?”

“I want him!” you blurt, and you certainly must not have meant to say it out loud because your hands immediately fly to cover your mouth and your eyes flash to him in fear. And anger. Both are there.

He growls and surges forward to claim your clit between his lips, clamping his hands at the juncture of your thighs to keep your legs open. He sucks hard and flicks his tongue angrily over the little bundle of nerves, drawing a cry from you immediately. Your hands push at his head, but there’s no match for his strength, and he holds your pelvis firmly to his face.

“No, no, no,” you murmur, starting to cry.

He keeps up the furious sucking and flicking, and it’s less than a minute before he feels your whole body seize up, frozen as the first orgasm crashes down on you. Slick begins to seep out in abundance, and he hums in approval, but he doesn’t relent, only changes his tactics. He flattens his tongue and laps at your cunt, letting his tongue slip between your folds and into your hole every two or three licks. It’s less frenzied, but no less insistent, and he rips a second orgasm from you easily. He hums in approval as this time that blissful wave forces you to throw your head and shoulders back, and you land against the back of the armchair, clutching at the rim of it next to your head.

But he won’t relent yet.

He reaches up to cup one of your breasts in his hand, and you moan and push your chest forward for him, head still thrown back, and he imagines your eyes must be shut. He squeezes your breast, then tweaks your nipple, and your breath hitches. He presses his mouth back to your folds and works his lips over your puffy, engorged clit, working slowly this time. He draws his hand away from your breast, and then he slides the fingers that just tweaked your nipple into your tight heat. He pumps slowly, and your hand moves to the back of his head, applying insistent pressure there. He crooks the fingers and strokes along your front wall, and he knows he finds the spot of your undoing when your legs abruptly shift, the left lengthening out, and your right hitching up over his shoulder to press into his back. He doesn’t change a thing now, sucking, pressing. He knows you’re on your way, but he will not hasten this. He wants you to feel every drawn out moment of this – some but not enough of what you need.

Paying attention to every breath above him, every movement of your body, and especially the way your muscles start to squeeze around the fingers he has inside you, he stops just short of your third orgasm.

You whine in protest, but he pushes himself up to stand above you. He grabs your waist and hauls you easily with his preternatural strength up and over his shoulder. You claw at his back, but it’s only a few quick steps for him to be able to throw you down onto the bed.

Your fear from his outburst is long gone, and the face you turn up at him is angry, and you snarl, quickly kneeling up on the bed.

He grasps your chin in his slick-covered hand and looks into your face. “You will beg for me, and only then will I consider whether or not I will touch you again or let you suffer.”

He drops your chin and is already turning away, but you’re lightning fast in reaching for his wrist.

He stops and only inclines his head part of the way to look back at you.

“Take me,” you plead, voice stronger than he expected.

He furrows his brow.

“Please,” you implore.

He turns fully back to you. Perhaps he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is. You’d always been adaptable and clever, and rarely stubborn to your own detriment. You had been stubbornly trying to hold the heat at bay, dangerously so to tempt the dry heat, but he knows this is an extreme circumstance for you, and with the tide turned yet again, he was almost impressed that you had so quickly determined it was worth it to take what you needed.

“Then present,” he says simply.

You turn, moving up to the middle of the bed, but close to the headboard, and kneel on all fours.

He climbs up behind you.

You drop down to your elbows, subjecting yourself to him, omega to alpha.

He takes his cock in his hand and rubs the angry red tip up and down your slick folds. You whimper, and he sees the small shiver that runs down your spine. He sinks his thick length into your tight heat, and you both groan as he fills you for the first time. He doesn’t move once his hips are finally flush against your ass. He breathes in and out, in and out, and watches your measured breaths as well.

He did not know it would be like this.

He reaches forward, grips your shoulder, and pulls you up and back towards him. Your hands move to reach out to steady yourself on the headboard. He presses his fingers into that juncture at your neck where he claimed you, and you keen, throwing your head back. He leans forward and while his right hand stays anchored at your hip, his left strokes that bite again, then moves to hold the front of your neck as he leans down and forward over you. You look up at him, he looks down at you. “You’re fucking mine, Omega,” he growls, your eyes locked.

“Yes, Alpha.”

Then he feels you rock your hips back against his. He smooths his hand down your neck, then presses his lips to your forehead. “You’re mine,” he says again, imprinting the words against your skin.

Then he pulls back and thrusts into you. A few thrusts like that, but as you begin to keen for him, begging for more, he has to drop back and grip your hips with both hands to fuck you. You both come twice – once quickly, and once more very slowly – before you’re boneless beneath him, and he forces you down to the mattress, shifting you to your side and drawing you up against his chest. You whine, but he strokes your arm and promises he’ll give you more once you sleep.

While you sleep in his arms, sticky and sweaty, his mind goes to work.  

It’s not long before you wake again, and you two truly fuck, carnal bleeding with a few moments that are too tender for either of you to acknowledge. But his stamina outmatches yours and he has you exhausted and sleeping again before long.

He’s never taken care of an omega in heat before, and it’s all-consuming, but he stays focused. When you’re awake, he plies your body with pleasure until you cry, keen, moan, scream aloud and silently, and it goes on and off again between sex and sleep all through the day. He’s prepared for your reluctance during the first high phase of the heat to eat or drink anything, but he slips you bits of fruit and nuts as he can, gets you to greedily gulp water only after he pushes it your way insistently. You want his cock, not hydration or nutrition.

A little before midnight the second night, you stretch and yawn waking from another of your short sleeps, and then you roll out of bed and pad to the bathroom. He’s been rooting through some of the cupboards, taking stock of what’s there, and he finishes quickly and follows you into the bathroom after he hears you flush the toilet and then turn on the showerhead. You’re slipping into the shower when he enters the bathroom, and he’s there in time for you to give the silent invitation for him to join you – the expectation, even.

You’re still in heat, but craving a shower lets him know you’ll have enough of your mind back for what needs to happen now.

Things are tenuous, but there’s no denying that this heat has changed things for both of you. He claimed you in Wakanda, but the two of you have bonded through the first thirty hours of this heat in ways neither of you thought possible.

He takes the lathered-up sponge you place in his hands, and he washes your body carefully. Then you take it back, soap it up again, and run it over his skin with the same kind of attention.

He washes your hair, you rinse away the suds, and then he pulls you flush against him. You take his hardening cock in your hand and pump shamelessly. He groans appreciatively, than pushes your back up against the tiles, moves your hands away, and pulls your leg up around his waist so he can enter you. You clutch at his shoulders for stability and moan. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, but he speaks just loud enough for you to hear, “This is the only place I’m sure no one will hear us, but they also need to have no reason to question what’s happening if they’re monitoring.” He moves his hips back and then pumps slowly into you again. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you moan, “more, Alpha.”

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly, though he knows you can’t see it. He tongues his bite at your neck, and you whimper. He gives you another thrust, and you keen.

“I won’t have you anywhere near these Hydra personnel anymore. I don’t trust them.”

The surprised noise that escapes your throat is slightly distressed, and so he speeds up his thrusts a little. “My heat,” you whisper.

“The heat cycle is the only time no one expects me to be anywhere or respond to anyone unless there’s complete catastrophe, and I already reported the onset of your heat last night. They won’t disturb us for a few more days, and they will not expect us to attempt to leave our quarters let alone the facility. If we can manage to get out unnoticed, we will have enough of a head start on time to lose them completely.”

You remain quiet.

“Omega?”

“And go where?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

You push his face away from your neck and push at his chest. “I’m still nothing more than your bait?”

He growls and turns you around so your chest and face are pressed up against the wall.

“I’m still your alpha, and yes my end game is still to draw out the Soldat.”

“Why?”

“I need him.”

He nudges your legs apart and enters you from behind, and you groan as he fills you.

He pulls back, about to enter you again, but then you turn your head, and gasp, “Wait,” in a tone that’s different enough that he does, brow furrowing as he meets your eyes.

“Omega?”

“Tell me what happened to Sam, to you, and I promise I’ll go with you willingly.”

He didn’t think you knew Sam had been with him.

You reach for his head and urge him back to the cradle of your neck.

With more than your words and the gentle action, you’re also entreating him through the bond, he can feel it. It’s powerful. And so he tells you. It only takes him two sentences to tell you what you need to know. Tears stream down your face, and he fucks you then, the fucking he needs for him, not you, but you allow him to take.

go immediately to part three: Carving Through the Dark

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[writing-for-marvel]

Triage

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist | PART 2 > >

Summary: A slightly reckless and exceedingly charming paramedic carries a young girl into your ER, proving that not all superheroes wear capes.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, set in an emergency room, I am not a healthcare worker and my medical knowledge is limited to what I’ve seen in Greys Anatomy lol, incident where people are injured from a derailed train, mentions of wounds & surgery & loss of life, injuries to a young child, needles & stitching, my terrible attempt at writing flirty banter

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: based off the winner of this poll, we say hello to paramedic!Bucky ❤️ this is my first entry for the Connect 4: Into an Alternate June-iverse Event by @buckybarnesevents, fulfilling the prompt ‘First Responder AU’. Thank you to @rookthorne who looked this over for me and gave me the confidence to keep writing it 🩵 banners by @vase-of-lilies

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“Incoming trauma. Train collided with a car and derailed. First wave ETA three minutes.”

At the moment your director of emergency medicine announces the tragedy and flood of imminently arriving patients, the televisions in the emergency room switch to breaking news - a presenter, wearing a solemn expression, speaks as a split screen shows what you can only describe as a colossal catastrophe.

The ER becomes silent as all eyes focus on the screens, only the rhythmic beeping of the pulse oximeters cut through the silence, a heavy weight blanketing the room as the realisation of what you’re seeing sets in.

You can’t hear what precisely he’s saying, but you can’t bring yourself to look away whilst watching the live chopper vision of smoke billowing from the train laying unnaturally on its side, barely any movement from the scene makes you wonder if anyone could have survived the incident.

The three minutes before the ambulances arrive go by in a flash, feeling like you hardly have time to mentally prepare for the extent of injuries and potential loss of life you will be facing. Then, almost in an instant, as if flicking a switch, chaos in its purest form descends upon the emergency room.

You watch on as paramedics and firefighters wheel patients in on gurneys, one by one filling up the limited trauma beds in the ER. Dr Stephen Strange directs medical personnel, making sure each case is assigned to an appropriate physician, the more serious injuries bypassing trauma intake all together and heading straight towards surgery.

Your eyes land on one man in particular between the sensory overload of people - tall, broad shoulders with long chestnut hair, carrying a young girl with one strong arm as he pushes a gurney with the other. Who you can only assume is the girl's mother, is unconscious and has blood staining the roots of her long blonde hair. Your heart aches for them as she’s handed over to the surgery team in wait, and even though the ER is filled with many conflicting loud voices, you hear the high pitched cry of the young girl for her mommy. The paramedic, now with his second arm free, pulls her into his chest before making his way to one of the trauma beds.

“You!” Dr Strange’s voice pulls your attention back to the fray and you find he’s pointing directly to you - you’ll forgive him for forgetting the name of a new resident during this moment of crisis. “The young girl with Barnes, she’s your responsibility.” That’s all the instruction he has time for before moving onto the next resident.

As you make your way through the maze of people towards the young girl, your mind flashes back to the footage of the wreckage and how grim it appeared. It seems like a miracle that this young girl is conscious and looks relatively unharmed with the exception of a few abrasions.

“I’m the one who brought her in, she’ll be all alone while her mother is in surgery, all I’m asking is to stay with her while she gets examined.” The well-built paramedic, Barnes, argues with your head nurse, pride and admiration swelling warm in your chest - he’s standing up for a scared, young girl who can’t voice what she needs right now.

“That’s perfectly fine.” You cut in, knowing Christine is a stickler for protocol and would never allow non-family members to stay with patients, even in dire circumstances. If there is a time to bend the rules slightly, you figure this is it. “I think she feels a lot more comfortable with you here anyway, isn’t that right sweetie?” The young girl nods her head, little hands reaching out to grab hold of the paramedics’ large one, eyes brimming with frightened tears.

“Thank you.” He mouths as Christine storms off to deal with the many other patients that require her attention. Your focus now switches to the precious girl in front of you - no matter how hectic the ER gets, how devastating the incident is, your thoughts need to be directed solely on her care, and not ogling at the attractive EMT who is currently soothing her.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” You ask the scared, little girl, but not before offering your own as a sign of good faith. She looks up to Barnes for reassurance before answering.

“Sasha.” She confesses with a small voice, partially hiding her face in the broad paramedic’s arm as she does so.

“Okay Sasha, I’m here to check you over, help patch up these cuts and make sure you have no other injuries so we can get you up to see your mommy as soon as possible. Can I do that for you?” She nods her head, sitting up a little straighter in the bed all the while maintaining a tight hold on Barnes’ hand.

“Can you tell me who your friend here is, Sasha?” You ask as you start your examination, feeling the medics’ pair of eyes watching you intently, something more than just concern for your patient's well-being has heat creeping up your chest to the tips of your ears in silent attraction.

“Bucky. He pulled me from the train.”

“All by himself? Wow, he must be super strong to do that.” You glance up at Bucky to find him staring at you with what you hope is a mixture of captivation and endearment. He offers an enchanting smile, making butterflies, which have no right to exist in an emergency room, flutter in your stomach.

“He also got my mommy too.” Sasha adds, you suspect with the youthful intent to impress you even more.

“As well!” You say in a dramatic tone which makes her beam a proud smile that she did in fact amaze you. “Sasha, I think you got rescued by a real life superhero.” You continue in a staged whisper that not only has Sasha giggling, but brings a flush to Bucky’s cheeks. The bashful blush only makes him more attractive in your eyes.

As you continue your examination, cleaning and bandaging all lacerations, keeping Sasha distracted by asking about her favourite activities and animals, you can progressively feel her opening up and trusting you more. From your experience, it can be difficult to earn a child’s trust when they are in such a foreign place, surrounded by strangers, and in particular in this scenario, when a parent isn’t around. Having Bucky, whom she formed a bond with as soon as he rescued her from the train, stay by her side through the ordeal, has been to both your benefit.

Once you cleaned all her cuts, making sure Bucky held her hands so Sasha could squeeze when the disinfectant caused a sharp, stinging sensation, you begin examining her stomach, prodding her abdomen for any signs of tenderness.

“Does that hurt, Sasha?” You enquire when she flinches and whines at your touch.

“Yes, right there.” You're proud she trusts you enough to admit that, though now concerned about potential internal bleeding. You need to act fast, but you don’t want to instil more fear in her given she’s already had a large dose today.

“Okay, it’s nothing to worry about yet, but I’m going to order you a scan so we can see what’s going on in your tummy.” Your eyes flick instinctively to Bucky, to provide some consolation in a time where you’re both worried about the young girl you’ve both become attached to in such a short time. You see the considerable concern furrowed in his brow soften when his eyes meet yours.

“Will it hurt?” Sasha’s frightened voice breaks your heart - she’s had to endure enough pain and suffering for the day, watching her mother cling to life in an ambulance, you’re desperate not to add to it.

“Not at all, it’s as painless as having your picture taken!” You explain, watching the alarm melt from her features, and feeling the tension in Bucky’s shoulders relax simultaneously. “All you have to do is stay really, really still, can you do that for Bucky and I?” The notion that there is a Bucky and you makes something in your chest buoyant.

“Yes!” She promises without missing a beat and Bucky squeezes her small hands with a relieved smile.

When Sasha’s attention turns to the nurse whose job it is to take her up for the scan, you notice Bucky discretely wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. He says a sweet goodbye before she’s wheeled away, knowing this is where a paramedic and hospital patient part ways. Sasha enthusiastically waves back to both of you as the nurses wheels her away, not stopping until they turn a corner and she’s completely out of sight.

Bucky clears the lump in his throat before stating, “I think it’s my turn to leave now.”

“Don’t think I can’t see you wincing every time you move. Sit your cute butt down, you aren’t going anywhere till I check you over too.” You say as you finish completing the form to refer Sasha for the CT scan, missing the downright cheeky smirk plastered on Bucky's face.

“You think I have a cute butt, huh?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and you have to fight the corners of your mouth from upturning in a smile. He does have a cute butt - not that you’ve been staring - but you’re certainly not admitting that to his gorgeous face.

“Not the point - now, shirt off so I can take a look.” Finishing your paperwork, you finally look up to notice his cocked head and flirty smile. Having studied long hours in med school and worked even longer hours all last year as an intern, you recognise it’s been a while since a stranger has looked at you with this level of desire.

“At least buy me dinner before you ask to see me naked.”

“I’m a doctor, I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” You challenge, even though you’re positive his strapping frame, which fills out his uniform completely, will be even more impressive without a shirt. You have to swallow the saliva forming in your mouth so you quite literally don’t drool at the thought of his unclad body.

“Why don’t we find an on-call room and I can prove to you it’s not.” He teases in a low, alluring voice and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself smiling like an idiot - it, however, does not stop your face from warming like a heating pad. It’s infuriating how beautiful he is, and it’s definitely criminal to act as cocky as he is right now.

“Only if you let me patch you up first.” You bargain.

Bucky finally concedes, unbuttoning and shrugging off his uniform shirt to reveal a wound in his side about the length of a teaspoon which is still trickling blood. The tightening concern which overwhelms your body at the sight of the gash, which is much worse than you predicted he’d be concealing and will require stitches, distracts you from the allure of seeing his shirtless chest.

You shake your head, knowing he would have been fully aware he was injured since pulling Sasha and her mom from the train, and in an incredible amount of pain, but waited until others received treatment before allowing himself to be tended to.

“You should have told me about this.” Tentatively you place gauze over the cut, gently applying pressure to stop the oozing but not firm enough where he’s in pain. You can feel his attentive eyes following your every careful move, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but you swear you can hear his breath hitch in his throat and feel his thumping heartbeat quicken as your hands graze his bare skin.

“There are many people in need of more urgent care than me.”

You look up at him from your position tending to his abdomen to find his face intimately close to yours. You can’t help yourself, being this close to him, but your eyes flicker to his lips, noticing a faint scar along his top lip you could only perceive by being this close.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it at all.”

Bucky gazes deeply into your eyes with a vulnerability which makes you doubt whether anyone has ever appraised him that he is worth taking care of. The thought feels like a punch to your gut.

“It’s relatively superficial, I can look after it myself.” He attempts to brush you off. If this weren’t your first time meeting the guy, and you didn’t feel like you were overstepping by protesting, you wouldn’t let him dismiss you so easily. “Can’t you overlook protocol this one time and give me the okay to get back out in the field? We are still looking through the wreckage for survivors, need all hands on deck” He flashes you wide, puppy dog eyes which have you melting at the knees. You suspect this isn’t the first time he’s used this ploy to get what he wants.

As if he can sense your resolve dissolving the longer you look in his mesmerising eyes, he starts to stand. But no, you aren’t going to let those ocean blues and infectious smile stop you from doing your job, and showing Bucky that his well-being is just as important as anyone else who came into the ER today. Placing your hands on his bare, broad shoulders, you push him back down onto the bed.

“You won’t be able to help anyone when you’re back in here with sepsis because this wound got infected.” You comment as you prepare the suture kit and implements you’ll need to first clean out the wound.

“At least that way I’d be able to see you again.” He jests, before sharp intake of breath as you begin disinfecting and debriding the laceration.

Even though you realise he’s joking, hopefully only about not taking care of his wound properly and not about wanting to see you again, you suspect there’s a small sliver of truth he’s hiding. There typically is a grain of truth in every joke - he seriously would have returned to the scene without receiving treatment if you hadn’t stopped him, twice.

“You don’t need the excuse of a life threatening illness to see me again. In fact, I would prefer it that way.”

Bucky eyes you with fondness as you finish up washing out his wound, even through the sharp sting and you expressing your disapproval of his careless actions. You’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve the warmth in his gaze, but you enjoy it nonetheless.

Once the area is numbed, you can instantly sense the ease which overcomes Bucky at no longer being in discomfort. Though the grunts and groans that slipped past his lips were rather sexy, you much rather seeing him in an absence of pain.

The two of you stay in comfortable silence as you lend all your attention to the placement and execution of each stitch, knowing that if you do a good enough job, a wound this size will heal to an almost imperceptible scar. Though it’s difficult, you restrain your focus from how the taut muscles of his stomach flex as you're working.

“Alright, almost good as new.” Is what you comment once you’ve thrown the last stitch and placed a bandage over the area. “You’re ready to get back to being a real life superhero.” You tease, knowing the effect the word had on him last time. You’re pleased to see that same blush bloom lightly over his high cheekbones.

“Thanks for lookin’ after me, doc.” Bucky shows his gratitude with a lopsided smile you could get so used to basking in. As he buttons up his shirt, you allow your eyes to linger on his clearly defined abs for a second before they’re covered over. He really has no right to be as gorgeous and charming as he is. “And for being such a bright light in what has otherwise been a very dark day.”

“Same to you, Bucky.” Guilt eats away at a small part of you that during what is for a lot of people in this hospital such a tragic day, you’ve instead actually enjoyed the company of a cheeky paramedic.

“Take care of Sasha for me, won’t you?”

“She’s in the best hands.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute.” He says with a tone which makes you think he’s only referring to you, when you were in fact meaning the entire hospital staff. Your heart flutters at the implication.

When neither of you say anything more, silence lingering for an almost awkward length, Bucky turns to leave. Even though you know you eventually must part ways, your heart aches that the end has seemingly come so soon. Luckily, you have a reason to call him back and spend an extra moment together.

“Hang on, you need to sign a release form before you’re allowed to go.” You say, hand brushing his as you provide a clipboard and pen, a shiver running up your arm which you hope Bucky doesn’t notice. If he does, he doesn’t mention it as instead he quickly surveils the document and chuckles.

“If you wanted my phone number, all you had to do was ask.” Damn him and that cheeky, smug grin you’re already falling for.

“This is purely protocol.” You counter, wanting to take his cocky persona down a peg. Bucky simply smirks, as if he can easily see through your half-truth like glass.

“So you’re telling me you don’t want my number?” He challenges, and though you don’t want to admit he’s won this back and forth between the two of you, you’ll consider yourself a winner as long as you come away with a means of contacting him after today.

“I didn’t say that.”

He hands you back the clipboard, a corner of the sheet torn off with his number scribbled specifically for you to take. You try not to look too desperate by taking the note immediately and putting it in your pocket as you plan on doing as soon as he isn’t watching you.

“The next time I see you, I hope we won’t be in an emergency room.” The suggestion there will be a next time makes giddiness rise in your chest as if you’re a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Don’t count your luck, James.” You tease, having spied his true first name on his patient form. “I haven’t called yet.” You try to sound calm, even though you can feel your heartbeat quickening the longer those captivating blue eyes regard your every move.

“I have a feeling you will, even if it is just to tell me Sasha’s pulled through alright,” Bucky pauses, slowly leaning in so you have a perfect view of his exquisite eyes, and his dilated pupils, as he lowers his voice. “Or for a rain check on that on-call room rendezvous.” He calls your bluff before flashing what you’re now sure is his signature smirk, leaving you with a fluttering heart and butterflies in your stomach.

As you watch Bucky walk out the exit of the ER, turning to shoot you a wink before the door closes behind him, you know three things for certain: firstly, you’ll definitely call him tomorrow, secondly, this man is going to utterly ruin you, and finally, you’re going to let him.

Part 2 > >

Be added to the series taglist here

#em writes #Bucky Barnes #bucky #Connect4AU #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #paramedic!bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan characters #Sebastian Stan

[frostironfudge]

I Really, Really Want To Kiss You - Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Fem Reader, Modern AU.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swear words, making out, allusions to body dysmorphia, a male oc being mean to the reader based on her appearance, protective bucky, mutual pining, sam has the braincell, weight loss mentioned, some not so good thoughts about herself by the reader, bucky fell first its canon for this au.

Word Count: 2.6k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

A.N: i've been meaning to write personal trainer bucky for a while and i might make this multiple parts (maybe 1-2 parts more) but i'm not sure about it, let me know what you think! also if i expand then that may include smut.

masterlist // Ao3

Heartbeat thunderous in your ears. Breath borderline panting. Then you see him, your step falters. Your hands grab the handle bar trying to right yourself. 

Bucky’s hand shoots out to stabilise you and press the stop button on the treadmill. 

Your eyes shift from the man to Bucky. He frowns at you. 

“Where is your focus?” He worriedly tuns his gaze over you. 

“I’m okay…” You murmur, heat creeping to your cheeks. 

“You sure? I know we’re trying interval running for the first time—,”

“Sir—Bucky,” you correct yourself before he can tell you off again, “I’m okay.” You press on, the heat of his palm against your lower back grounds you more than it should. 

Blue eyes give you a once over, “Okay, how about we try again?” 

He smiles when you nod, you will your heart and mind to focus. When Bucky got assigned as your personal trainer you wanted the ground to swallow you up. 

He’s tall, beefy, with a charming smile and eyes so blue you would tie dumbbells to your feet to drown into, well maybe not that literally but controlling your feelings for him for the past three months had been difficult. 

Every-time he smiled at you, your heart would stop, every repetition he demonstrated you swear your mouth watered with drool brimming past your lips. Then when he joked around and eased your nerves over the whole ordeal to loose weight that that is what set your heart soaring. 

Bucky was sweet, encouraging, the praise for him just never stopped. Everyone at the gym adored him, even if you were mid session and anyone required help he’d look to you if it was okay. He’d jog over help them and return to you. 

He taught you to look at your journey  from the point of view of getting healthier for yourself. Reminding you that the scale is just a number. 

Just like the age gap between the two of you, fourteen years who cares? You definitely don’t, not one damn bit. 

“Ready?” His voice brings you back into the present. You nod. 

“Alright, thirty second intervals, speed at 6.5, and we’ll start at a speed of 3 for thirty seconds then switch higher.” Bucky watches for any signs of confusion on your face, you give him nothing to worry about, he gives you his beaming smile. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the workout. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the workout. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the workout. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the work—

Then he passes by again, your gym crush, Bucky had been deemed by your best-friends as your Gym Love. 

You watch through the mirror discreetly as the guy-gym crush-because you’re too anxious to even ask his name or approach him. Runs his hand through his hair and you panic when the floor beneath you moves. 

Oh, you’re on the treadmill right. You begin taking the steps, Bucky adjusts the speed to three. 

“What has you distracted? Is everything okay?” He questions and you will yourself not to look at gym crush but your damn eyes betray you because he’s deadlifting and you can hear him groan and why is the speed increasing?

Shit you will yourself to catch up. Bucky follows your gaze to the guy. Then he scoffs calculating the weight the guy is lifting. 

“Not impressive.” He mutters, attention back at you, “Alright there, Doll?”

“Mmhmmm.” You’re on the verge of beginning to pant and he lowers the speed. That damned nickname sends your heart into over drive.

You slow down to a walk catching your breath. 

“How was that?” You question trying to deflect.

“Good, you’re keeping focus.” Bucky murmurs, its stupid he knows being a little petty that you’re stealing glances of someone else. 

“Sorry, I um,” you begin, 

“No don’t apologise, Doll, ready for the next interval?” His eyes meet yours and god he just wants to lean over and kiss you senseless. 

“Yeah, I am.” You grin at him, Bucky increases the speed again. Watching your feet to see if you need any pointers on foot posture and landing. 

This goes on for another fifteen minutes before he gives you a break. When you get down from the treadmill you have to look up at Bucky again because he’s tall. So damned tall he towers over you. You’d be lying if you didn’t want him to lift you up and—, god why does working out turn your brain into a horny mess? 

“Go sit down, drink water, I’ll be back in two minutes okay?” Bucky watches you nod at his words your breath still fast, chest rising and falling, he swallows quickly heading to the main desk where Sam is stationed. 

You make your way to the bench grabbing your water. Involuntarily your eyes scan over the gym, trying to locate your crush. 

Tugging at your t-shirt. To stop it from highlighting your rolls, you sit up straighter as he passes by, heading to the machines. You drink water, then look down at your shoes then towards the area. 

Very fucking discreet, you tell yourself. 

He pays you no mind, focused on his workout. Then he looks your way you look ahead, trying not to make it obvious being caught staring. 

Bucky sighs, Sam shakes his head. 

“Just tell her.” He taps the keyboard, switching playlists. 

“She already has a crush on dudebro deadlifts double digits.” Bucky grimaces, its been three months being your personal trainer, he wanted more, much more. 

Everything about you pulled him in, the way you smile whenever greeting any of the staff, to your jokes during the sessions. The way you would light up when you made progress in your strength. 

God he remembers your scent lingering upon him after hours of you jumping into his arms when you broke your own deadlift personal record. 

Your warmth engulfing him, your skin so soft and pretty he just wanted to sink his teeth and mark you as his own, he could even hear you saying his name over and over.

“Bucky.” Your palm on his hand brings him back into the present. His brows furrow. Thank god for the desk. 

“Y-yeah Doll?” He clears his throat. Sam chortles covering it with a cough, Bucky throws him a glare, then gazes back at you. 

“You alright? It was around ten minutes I got worried…” You bite your lip. Bucky’s gaze falls to them, his tongue peeks out wetting his own bottom lip. 

Your eyes follow the movement, you swallow. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Sam threw paperwork on my head. I’ll walk in with you. You feel up for doing abs or have I worn you out?” He wiggles his brows. 

You giggle, “It takes a lot more than an interval training to wear me out.” 

“Are you challenging me, Doll?” His lips curve up into a smirk. 

Your core pulses at the innuendos being exchanged. 

“Maybe.” You shrug, looking away to breathe. 

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Come on, three variations with two sets of twenty reps, I’ll go easy on ya.” He winks when you look back up at him.  

“When have you ever gone easy on me?” You feign surprise. 

“You’d know when I get rougher, Doll.” Bucky pipes back. 

Sam coughs in warning. Bucky purses his lips, thinking of thoughts that should help rid of his hidden predicament. 

Your fingers intertwine out of nervousness. Licking your lips, “I’ll wait in the studio?” 

“Yeah be there in a second.” He promises as you trace the path back. 

“Just ask her. You’re both practically eye fucking the other.” Sam waves a hand gesturing between Bucky and where you were standing. 

“She’s not interested in me—,” Bucky’s brows furrow pondering over the conversation, “do you think?”

“Man go ask her out before I throw you in the morning shift.” Sam warns as Bucky finds his way to you. 

You’re in the studio, sitting crossed legged on the floor. Fiddling with the corner of the mat. 

“Hey.” Bucky smiles when you grin at him, “Hey.” 

“So I was thinking I’d do the reps with you.” He moves to grab a mat for himself.  

“Won’t that be too slow for you?” You blink up at him. 

“Nope.” He sits on the mat, “Now, first classic crunch, ready?” 

You nod getting into position as does he, “Ready and go.” 

How Bucky is able to keep the counts and do the reps is beyond you. 

He’s staying true to his word in tandem with your movements. 

You have to will yourself to do the reps instead of watching him. The way his hair begins to fall on his forehead and without breaking his movement he shakes it away.

Beads of sweat line your forehead and you grunt laying back covering your face with your palms just as Bucky gives the last call for the rep. That last set took a lot of energy out of you. 

“Hey Doll,” Bucky leans over, you move your hands to look up at him. 

“Yeah Bucky?” breathing is still hard even more so with those azure eyes gazing down at you. 

“You okay?” He checks in, gaze tracing over you.

You nod, “Just need to catch my breath—,”

The door to the studio slams open, Bucky looks up. You sit up, gym crush stands there looking at Bucky. 

“Yes?” He questions the dudebro. 

“You’re a trainer right? I need a spotter, the dude on the front desk is with a client showing the gym. You’re the only other free trainer.” He says, Bucky raises a brow looking towards you. 

“I’m with a client.” He gestures with his palm. 

You offer a smile, “Its okay…”

Bucky scoffs when the idiot doesn’t even thank you. Just gestures to the training area for him to follow.

“Mannerless.” He comments, you frown.

Bucky wants to roll his eyes, of course you wouldn’t like anything bad said about your whatever the idiot is to you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You ask hopeful, even though its your day for cardio having Bucky there makes it better cause he alway made funny faces through the mirror while passing by. You did the same to him just a little more discreet if he was with a client.

“Oh I have to go help a friend move so I might not be there when you usually come in… you can do your usually routine, elliptical, treadmill, cycling or jump rope’s cool too.” He helps you up not letting go of your hand even as you both are standing.

You like that, holding Bucky’s hand. He might not like it though so you look down and he blushes moving his hand away, if though he really didn’t want to do so.

“I’ll see you day after then?” You offer, he nods.

“See you, Doll.” Bucky smiles when he spots you smiling shyly at the nickname.

The next day at the gym you feel Bucky’s absence. Usually he’s smiling, greeting you or making a joke. Checking in upon your diet and how you’re doing mentally. He always made sure to know about your headspace.

You’re getting down from the treadmill making way to the water station. That is when gym crush walks in, you make eye contact while filling your bottle, in a moment of boldness. You offer him a smile. 

He stares at you with his dark eyes, then his face morphs into a disgusted grimace. You look back to your water bottle, moving away rushing over to the locker room.

You can’t get his expression out of your head, the mirrors in the room turn sinister, you cover your face, heading into one of the stalls.

Resting your forehead against the door, trying to quiet your breathing and tears. Your weight didn’t please any man who held your romantic admirations, it was always a factor and despite the hard-work done these past few months it seemed as if this was to waste as well. 

“Fuck.” You mutter, trying to find the positives over the past few months. Everything Bucky has done for you, taught you, you sniffle. It doesn’t work. Not even the mental footage of him doing dumbbell floor presses helps to distract your mind.

Wiping your eyes you grab your bag from the locker, heading out, not bothering to look at anyone. 

As luck would have it you collide into someone, palms engulf your arms, steadying you. His cedar and patchouli scent surrounds you. Bucky.

“Doll.” Is all he says, you don’t look up at him.

You try to keep the sniffle down, but the stupid sound blubbers out. Immediately his calloused hands grasp your face, making you look up into his eyes. 

“Who did this?” Bucky’s eyes scan over the gym floor.

His gaze settles on dudebro, his jaw clenches and eyes narrow.

“Bucky, no one—,” You attempt to defuse the situation.

“Don’t lie to me, Doll.” He warns, one hand leaves your cheek, wrapping around your wrist, he pulls you into the private office.

“You’re going to tell me the truth.” Bucky demands.

“There isn’t anything to say—,”

“That’s it.” He moves without warning, grasping your hips and you’re lifted up, and settled onto the desk, your legs parted to have him stand between them chest to chest.

You’re out of breath without having moved a muscle. 

“Bucky?” Is all you can muster out, he grasps your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head back only slightly.

“Doll, you’re crying and its not the happy tears I’ve seen you shed and wiped away. Now please, please tell me what happened.” He requests, all the earlier range he harboured gone but not forgotten.

“I,” Your chest tightens and your eyes close, as though it would erase it all away. 

“Take your time, Doll.” He encourages, thumb tracing over your jaw.

You gaze into his eyes, the warm comfort in them beckoning you close, “You might think it’s stupid.” you warn.

“Try me.” He shrugs, giving a soft smile.

You swallow and then spill the entirety of the event.

“He grimaced at you?” Bucky confirms, you nod.

“I’m going to kill him.” He begins to pull away and you instinctively wrap your legs around him to stop him.

“Doll—,”

“I’m so sorry—,”

“No fuck, I’ve thought of this so many times…” Bucky trails off.

“You, you have?” Your eyes widen, as he nods again.

“You don’t know what you’ve done to me, all I can think about is you. Every sense of mine attitude to you.” He rests his forehead against yours, you close your eyes.

“I’ve thought about you too.” Your quiet admission has him smile.

“What have you thought about?” His curiosity getting the better of him.

“How your arms feel around him, how would it be to see you outside of here… to, to have you lift me up like—,” You squeal when he lifts you again, your legs wrapped around his waist, hands on his shoulders, Bucky grins mischievously.

You’re pressed against the wall and him.

“Like this?” He questions, breathless, eyes shifting between your lips and gaze.

“Yes.” the words a breathless whisper.

“Doll I really, really want to kiss you.” He admits, you raise your palm to cup his cheek, shifting your head towards him.

Bucky’s breath fans across your face, his lips are slightly chapped but soft, warm and oh so sinful. The kiss is bruising, he completely dominates and you allow him to, his tongue exploring your mouth and he sucks upon your bottom lip.

You tug on his lip as he pulls away, Bucky audibly groans. 

“You’re so beautiful, so magnificent. And you taste so addicting.” Bucky rests his forehead against yours again, this time both of you stare into each other’s eyes.

You can’t keep the grin off of your face nor can he, “So does this mean I can take you out to dinner?” He requests.

“Yeah, yeah you can.” You answer smiling, his lips meet yours again.

permanent bucky tag: @slutforsexyseabass

permanent tags: @stevesmewmew @pandaxnienke

#personal trainer bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #james buchanan barnes #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x female reader #buck barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes x you #bucky fluff #sebastian stan #bucky x yn #the winter soldier x you #frostironfudge #bucky barnes x plus size reader #james buchanan barnes x you #white wolf #bucky barnes angst #bucky is the best #james bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #modern bucky barnes #modern au #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky fic

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Hallows' Eve

Written: Oct 2 2020

Pairing: dark!Bucky Barnes, dark!Steve Rogers, dark!Clark Kent x Black Female Reader

You expected a nice night on the eve of Halloween with your boyfriend, Bucky.

A/N: Ahh shoutout to my bff @titty-teetee for indulging me with this idea lol. I love ya >:D

October 30th, middle of somewhere, Texas.

Well, there was a house-- rickety as it was, the home stood in a clump of mesquite trees, accented with tufts of Johnsongrass, springing up through the cracks of the stone walkway and leaning against the stairs to the front porch. It had never looked darker than this night had. But even so, the jagged wood roof  rose high to a second story, long windows looked like eyes with the small front door for a mouth. A steady breeze moved through the trees, shaking and whishing the long thin branches, slicing through the air. The whispering of nature speaks to you, like God to man, invoking what has been and what was to come. An unexpected thin place perhaps, the house, having not been filled for quite some time looked like it could have been haunted. Maybe a part of you wished it was. Like the walls and foundation had the ability to make up its own people within, or remembered who once lived there. 

Bucky’s fingers nudged your lower back as you walked alongside him. The duffle bags zipper clinked against the fabric and you were suddenly aware of how quiet it was out here. The crisp autumn air, slowly contorted to that spikey chill of early winter lingered on your skin. So you walked closer to him for some quick warmth. 

“They should be--” said Bucky, lights glowed up from the dirt road. The paleness glowed over both you and Bucky, the house, the dormant land. “There they are.” he said pausing for a moment and then continued once again.

“You had to pick the spookiest spot huh?” you said under your breath. 

He shrugged as he stomped up the stairs. “I was here yesterday, I got it ready. It’s a perfect spot for a quick get away.”

“But did you have to invite company? I was looking forward to it just being you and me.”

Bucky rummaged for the keys in his pocket as a couple of car doors slammed behind you. 

“‘Come on babe, Steve doesn’t have anywhere to go really.”

“I’ll start the fire!” shouted Steve. 

You didn’t turn around, your eyes stayed on the shadows of Bucky’s face where his eyes should have been. 

“Okay, I get that. But what about the other guy? What did you say his name was? How do you know him?”

Bucky jabbed the key with the lock, he chuckled a bit before answering. “Clark Kent, his name is Clark.”

“So you’re picking up strays now?” 

“Get to know him, you’ll like him. He's a great guy, hardly a stray...”

You followed Bucky into the house slowly, he flicked on the switch flooding the living room with light. Okay, you thought, doesn’t look so bad. At least the furnishing appeared to be from within the last ten years, the walls looked newish, with sharp borders, and reasonably decorated. 

“Besides, I picked you up, remember?”

You dropped your bag flat on the ground. “Hey, now. Are you trying not to get lucky while we stay here?”

Bucky continued into the house with the grocery bags. “I’ll get lucky regardless.” he cut his eyes over his shoulder back toward you. It sent another chill, this time up your inner thighs. He wasn’t lying.

“Oh god, not that stupid-”

Bucky ducked in close, the flimsy plastic mask buckled under the pressure of nuzzling your neck. You gazed into the bathroom mirror at Bucky who’s rubber Michael Myers mask was staring lifelessly back.

“I know you wanted to try something different….but….”

His hands kneaded your sides, higher he climbed over your sweater to your breasts.

“You look ridiculous…”

One hand left your nipple and began tugging at the top of your leggings.

“Shh…” he tried to stifle a laugh. “..just go with it..”

And you did, by leaning your head back against the blue denim jacket as his fingers wondered underneath your underwear.

“..let daddy have a feel.” his breathy question muffled through the mask. Slowly he began to circle your clit, mouth hanging open your hand held the top of his black gloved hand and pushed him to press harder.

“Look at yourself...how needy you get.” he whispered.

You try to peer beyond the mask, the slits for eyes but there was nothing. Only darkness met you there. Bucky brought up his hand, held it in front of the mirror and you. He split his fingers, thick wetness strung between them like webs.

“Bend over-- hold on to the sink.” he ordered, with his hands disappearing behind you. The sound of his clothes ruffling you stared back at the mirror.

Bucky stepped forward, knocking your ankles apart with his shiny black boots and yanked your pants, underwear down and gently, he tipped into you. His long length traveled against your folds sinking further inside.

Ghostly scenes are made from the smoke casting up from the flickering fire being fed from lava colored coals. The metal chair underneath you feels cool on your bottom, because even though you are sitting on a blanket the cold night air hangs around you. 

Steve was ending his story. Though hardly a spooky tale, it didn’t have to be, for his tales were based on true events. Speaking of blood and gore the morbid tone grew in his voice and brought a shadow of delight in his eyes. You carefully watched him, observed his hunched over shoulders, his eyes turned to yours sometimes while he spoke but mostly stayed on the fire. 

You chugged from the bottle of hard cider as Bucky ate, that stupid mask was pulled up over his brows. But Clark Kent, this stranger, sat nearly directly opposite. You moved your eyes to him ever so often while Steve told his story. One of the two thought about food on the way here, chicken, you guessed was their craving. Clark leaned back, his black jacket bunched at his waist as he rose a hand to his mouth. The crunch of the crust of fried meat did not break Steve’s momentum. 

When he finished, Bucky nodded to the accuracy of the amount of soldiers, to why the only man left was brave and courageous. Clark’s eyes met yours over the flames, his skin pale, the wavy dark curls framed his face. He smiled at you as he chewed. You noticed it then, unsure why you wouldn’t have before, he held the grey cooked bone between his fingers and stuck the end in his mouth. You blinked, maybe you were seeing things -- this was your sixth cider for the night.

“Are you eating the bones?” you asked.

Clark continued to gnaw on it till it broke off in his mouth. “Waste not want not,” he said through a mouthful.

He continued to stare back at you and at the same time a chill coursed its way down your spine. Shivering in the gentle breeze the urge to go to the bathroom shot through you. 

“I’ll be right back,” and excused yourself from the fire.

Had to be a bit past ten p.m., though this was supposed to be a pleasant fall break, it didn’t truly feel that way. Not with two extra guests. You tried to not feel so desperate to be alone with Bucky. You finished washing your hands and opened the bathroom door. In the dark, lit up by the light of the bathroom a figure stood. You jumped so hard, grasping at your sweater, bent over grabbing your waist, the boogeyman mask simply stared back at you without moving.

“Bucky I swear to -- why would you? -- take that stupid thing off-” and you reached for the mask but his hand grabbed your wrist. Slowly he walked over the threshold, leaned over and flicked off the light. 

“Oh no!” you feigned a plea. “Seriously..--help..help.” you giggled through another.

The door slammed behind him trapping the dark inside. He pulled you close at first, residing to his strength, you let him touch, grab, pluck at your body. Backing you back up against the sink the rubber mask pushed against your neck, smiling in the dark you could hear him attempting to kiss you there. 

His hands ran around the waist of your leggings, one big hand gripped and caressed your ass, slipped toward your split and rubbed your asshole. You jumped again, this time wrapping your arms around his neck. Different, he had never done such a thing before, but you went with it. 

His finger crawled passed it, his other hand pushed down the front of your legging and circled your clit. 

“..help...a big bad man...help..” you chuckled under a moan. 

He jerked you away suddenly, pulled down your leggings and underwear, with a hand on your shoulder he forced you to bend over. The room filled with the sound of a smack to your back side. 

“Bucky!” 

The stinging lingered but white hot pain replaced it with another hit from his gloved hand. 

“Okay!” you rushed out. Maybe he was just being kinky, perhaps your pretending might have put him out of the mood. 

He hit you again making you grip the lip of the sink harder. “I’m sorry daddy..” you hissed.

He was back behind you again, his whole body pressed against you, scratching at the skin of your ass he plunged two thick fingers into your entrance.  Heavy breathing billowed from under the mask, hot air pooled over your shoulder and around the back of your neck. The weight of him bent you forward. He pulled out his fingers from within you and began to prod with something warmer, and far thicker at your slit as his other hand tangled with your fingers on the sink. 

And he pushed in, “..damn!” you moaned.

Jerky, irregular thrusts stretched you more than what you remembered. “Bucky!” you gasped, hoping he would slow the pace. But the other hand grabbed for your throat, squeezed tight and pumped you harder. 

“Daddy, please..” you half begged, half needingly whimpered. 

That changed his stroke, and soon the ache descended into bliss. 

“Fuck...daddy…”

His hand on yours returned to your clit, pushing hard and swiping steadily, your knees nearly buckled. Thicker for sure, veiny too, you thought, god what the loss of one sensory can do on a drunk mind. Your body bucked back against him as you rode out the orgasm. He squeezed harder, hissing and groaning under the mask you could nearly imagine him as someone else. And when he stilled inside of you, even his hiccups of pleasure could be thought of another. You shook the fantasy away as he stepped back. 

Before you could even turn around, the door opened, your eyes shot to his brown boots and then up to his back. And he left you there.

You stuffed pieces of a premade popcorn ball into your mouth. Bucky sat there weaving a tale of spirits walking through walls, of ancient gods embedded into objects best left to rest where they laid. Still buzzing hard you stayed captivated by his tone. It was something about the secretive way his voice projected that kept you staring at him, wondering if it could be true, but knew it mustn’t. 

It was still cool out, the shabby blanket thrown over your sore legs did little to keep the wind out. But it made for a good catcher, which is what you were doing toward the end of his story. Picking up pieces of fallen popcorn, and pizza flavored chip crumbs somehow made it to your mouth despite the only source of light was a waning fire.

“So if you ever hear your name called..don’t ever answer back, unless you can see it’s a actually living person.” Bucky finished and glanced over at you proudly.

“I hate that story.” you slurred your words a bit and shook out the blanket on your lap. “I hope you’re happy, you have to walk me everywhere until we return home.”

You picked up the last bottle off the ground and drank the last bit. The clash of flavors swirled on your tongue leaving a bitter after taste.

“Babe do you have any gum?”

“There’s a pack in the middle console--” Steve spoke up. “Back there in the truck..” he said hooking his thumb over his shoulder.

You rolled your eyes over in Steve’s direction. A smug grin, and a wrinkle on the side of one eye simply gazed back at you. 

“You’re fine,” he said finally. “You’ve got us here...nothings gunna get you.” he reminded smoothly.

And the moment was quiet, poised on the end of the gentle breeze blowing through the heat of the fire. The rustle of sleeping honeysuckle vines, somewhere near the old rotted out shack Steve’s truck sat was the only identifiable sound for a few seconds. 

“Fine.” you huffed and stood up to get that gum.

You walked down the dirt path the short way from the front of the house where Bucky, Steve and Clark sat. The tin roofing of the old shed rocked, and slapped against itself the closer you got. And of course Steve parked on the other side, out of the sight of the house and fire. But you walked quickly, or rather, as fast as two aching legs could in the cool weather. 

The knocking sound only got heavier, louder as you squinted in the dark toward the blackest corner of the area. Steve’s truck was within a few footsteps and you batted away any imaginings of spooky phantoms. You slipped passed the door, your hand flipped up the middle console and snagged up the pack of gum before slamming the door back. And when you turned around, just off from where you had previously walked was a figure. The white, deathly pale mask was the only part you could really see.

“Fuck!” you shouted, dropping the pack of gum. “Bucky!” you hissed and reached back down to retrieve it. 

The yellow fire light was at his back when he moved forward toward you. 

“Okay...no more mask!”

You stuffed the gum under your arms and went to yank at the mask. But he caught your arm and squeezed down like a vice grip. “Hey--easy there..” you said quietly. 

He pulled you toward the shed, but just outside of it, along the rotten wall of it a few old deep freezers were lined up against it collecting weeds, and dust. 

“Oh no, Bucky..those look super dirty..” you tried to jerk your arm away but he only pulled you harder. “...Really? You’re this committed to fucking in that mask?”

This time your hand grabbed enough of the back of the mask to rip it fully up over his head. At that same moment you were jerked forward between the rusty freezer and him. Your eyes now bulging and fighting for light to correct what you were seeing in the dark stared up at him. You blinked several times once more before you realized the angular features did not belong to Bucky. Thick curly hair, messy all over haloed around his face, and of course, you weren’t sure why you hadn’t noticed before, he was taller. It was Clark.

You made to quickly move away from him but he snapped you back, “Get off me!” Your voice shook, and so did your body. 

“Bucky’s right over there...all I have to do is scr--”

The air whipped out of your lungs so fast as Clark slammed his palm over your mouth and rushed your back down on to the freezer. 

“I’ve been waiting all night for this..” he whispered.

No amount of squirming could equal the might Clark welding against your struggling. It was like a man made of iron held you down, even when his other hand disappeared between your legs, the tearing of your legging, your underwear did not loosen his hold. And then the unfolding of his clothes paired with the gentle brushing of the vines against wood near your head sent you into hysterical kicking. Your legs on either side of him squeezed, and jerked to no avail. 

“-don’t act so innocent. You’ve already fucked two different men tonight.”

You stopped kicking, eyes wide above his hand you glowered at him through the dark. “You won’t mind..will you?”

Shaking your head you held your breath. The thick end of his cock began to push past your folds. 

“Slut.” 

He lowered his forehead on to yours, what you imagined was him staring back down at you but could see only the tip of his nose. A shuddering breath pulled through your nose as he sank further to his balls. “You’re wet from it still…”

He started snapping into you, hard and fast, slapping his lust into your unwilling cunt. Clark’s hand slipped to your chin, his lips hovering above yours. 

“Are you going to call me daddy too?” he asked, with his breath steadily huffing into your mouth. “..Say it for me baby..” 

“Let me hear that little desperate voice..” He kissed you, slipping his tongue along the inside of your lower lip and then against your face as you turned your head. “Come on..” And then he started jabbing, a feral thumping into you. Sharp pains up your thighs shot further into your core. You denied him and he lowered his head to your neck. He sucked on your skin, flicked his tongue around and inside your ear. “Say it,” he whispered. 

You whimpered in response as his teeth began to snag on the wet skin of your neck. He sucked hard, drawing out needle points of pain. 

You pray to god Bucky could hear this, you’ve been gone too long certainly either Steve or him could. Clark kept nibbling, and groaning in between thrusts. When you refused once again he shoved his palm back over your mouth, the other brought your wrist up and twisted it into a bone breaking angle. 

He stopped moving inside of you as his deep voice raked over clenched teeth, “What was that?” he asked. The warm palm slid down to your chin. 

“..daddy.” you shivered out.

You could hear the satisfied smile in his voice. “Good..girl.” he whispered. 

“That wasn’t so hard to say was it babe?”

The sound of Bucky’s voice from the darkest, most grown up side of the shed sent your eyes reeling in the dark. Clark put his hand back over your mouth and kept going. 

Bucky stood at the edge of the freezer, in the dark the features of his face were smudged. A gentle hand caressed the top of your forehead. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let Clark finish.”

At Bucky’s words, Clark released your mouth, he rose up and held your upper arms down as he continued to fuck you roughly. Your eyes stayed on Bucky’s silhouette, high pitch whimpering up at him did not go unheard. 

Bucky cupped your chin and head. “Shush,” he hushed down your sobbing face. 

Another pair of hands tore at the front of your sweater. To his right, another figure stepped to your side. The figures loomed over you while your breasts chilled, and peaked in the cool night air. A deft hot hand kneaded and groped at the nearest one. 

“You told us she was good….” Steve pinched your nipple hard. “She’s fucking outstanding.”

Bucky leaned over you, he grabbed for your thigh but you kicked away. Clark relinquished some leverage to pull your thigh up so Bucky could hold your ankle. “Yeah, get in there good.” Bucky’s voice rose above your strangled cries. Steve got your other leg, held it folded it in high and tight, that allowed Clark to pound you deeper. 

He grinded his hips into yours burning his stiff cock into your core. His grip tightened around your arms pinning you for good below him. “Where am I going to empty my balls?” Clark demanded on a puff of air. 

Tears slid down the corners of your eyes. They rolled from the darken outlines of Bucky above you to Steve at his side and then back to the man between your legs. 

“..in me.” you sniffled out. 

“And who are we--” Bucky asked softly. 

You didn’t bother to look in the direction of his voice, Clark’s head threw back, a deep moan started in his chest as his hips kept pumping. “Say it baby..” Clark whispered.

“..daddy.” you whimpered.

#Black female reader #Black! reader #dark!Bucky Barnes #dark!steve rogers #dark!clark kent

[deliciousangelfestival]

Kiss Me If You Can || Part 2

Character: Bucky Barnes x Thief!Reader

Words Count:  1,214

Summary: What happens when Bucky meet his first love the phantom thief for the second time?

Part 1,- Part 2, Part 3,-

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

The first time Bucky got his heart broken was when he was in junior high school. He was playing the arcade game with Steve when he saw Y/N and her friends at the cafe.

As usual, he always watches her from afar.

Then he saw a boy close to her; a bold and brave boy approached Y/N, capturing her attention in a way Bucky had only dreamed of.

The intimate kiss on her cheek unfolded before his eyes like a scene from a cruel play. Bucky didn’t remember what happened next. He went home and cried. He didn’t leave the house for a week. Even Steve can’t get him out of his bedroom.

Bucky realized that Y/N was out of his league and needed to change to stand beside her. He always watching her walk away.

*********

Years go by, and once again, he watches her slipping away. And the most absurd thing is she became a phantom thief. It turns out he doesn’t know a thing about Y/N.

After the chaos she made at the army, they want to catch her. She became their first enemy.

Now, Bucky has another chance to catch her again. Today, his team got told they needed to guard a V.I.P. at the masquerade ball.

Because there’s a rumor the phantom thief will appear at the party, the army sends Bucky and the team to catch the thief.

Bucky didn’t tell anyone that the thief was his first love.

Y/N was right; he couldn’t imagine her inside a prison cell. He can’t let anyone else catch her beside him.

*****

The ballroom sparkled with lights as Bucky and his team guarded a VIP named Richard Harrington. Richard was a rich guy with a big attitude. He couldn't stop bragging about a super expensive diamond necklace up for auction.

"This necklace is worth more than your wildest dreams, Lieutenant. I doubt you've ever seen something this classy," Richard said with a smirk, acting like he was the most critical person in the room. He looked down on everyone, making it clear he thought he was better than them.

As he went on about the necklace, his rudeness showed. He didn't care about anyone else, treating the staff like they were beneath him.

Bucky had to keep his cool, but Richard's mean attitude set the tone for a night that promised to be full of tension and surprises.

As Bucky and his team scanned the room for the elusive phantom thief, Richard Harrington had a different idea. With a sly grin, he pointed to a woman across the room, claiming she was an important guest, and demanded Bucky to dance with her.

"This is Isabella," Richard said, gesturing toward the woman. "She's someone you should be honored to dance with, Lieutenant. Make sure you don't mess it up."

Isabella, the mysterious woman, wore a striking dress that shimmered like the night sky, her mask adding an air of secrecy to her appearance. She approached Bucky with a confident smile, defying the unspoken rules of social hierarchy.

Their dance was like a rhythm of unspoken understanding, a chemistry that flowed effortlessly. Bucky felt a sense of familiarity, a nagging feeling that lingered at the edge of his consciousness.

"Why so intense, Bucky?" 

Bucky was surprised when he recognized Y/N's voice beneath the disguise. Once again, this woman caught him off guard.

As they moved to the music, Bucky felt a knot tighten in his stomach, realizing Y/N's presence beneath the disguise.

Y/N, in the persona of Isabella, threw a playful remark his way. "Quite the dancer, Lieutenant."

Bucky, attempting nonchalance, replied, "I've had smoother partners."

She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Maybe you need someone to keep you on your toes."

Bucky said, "I've had enough surprises for one night."

Her laughter, a melody amidst the dance, echoed in the dimly lit hall. "Why so serious, Bucky? Afraid of a little excitement?"

Bucky, masking his inner turmoil, quipped, "Just trying to survive the night."

Y/N, with a playful glint in her eye, replied, "Surviving can be overrated, Bucky. Sometimes, you just have to embrace the chaos."

Bucky, smirking, retorted, "Embrace chaos, huh? Let's see how chaotic things can get."

Y/N laughed. “Careful what you wish for, my dear Bucky.”

After she said this, the lights turned off, and everything went dark.

Y/N also slipping away from Bucky grasp.

Every guest immediately panicked, but Richard, as the host party, assured the guest that everything was alright.

The chaos erupted as the lights flickered back to life, unveiling the empty pedestal where the diamond necklace had rested. Richard erupted in fury, pointing fingers at the phantom thief.

Unfazed by the commotion, Bucky directed his team to search among the guests. The elusive thief had cleverly blended in, using the same disguise as the innocent attendees.

While the others inspected the bewildered guests, Bucky ascended to the top floor, determined to catch the culprit. As he reached the rooftop, he was met with the sight of Y/N, ready to make her daring escape.

This time, however, she wore a wingsuit, a sleek silhouette against the city lights, poised to vanish into the night.

With a smirk, she waved the stolen diamond necklace in front of Bucky, the glint of mischief evident in her eyes. "Impressed, Bucky?"

Bucky, a mixture of frustration and admiration, couldn't help but respond, "You enjoy making a spectacle of everything, don't you?"

Y/N chuckled, her fingers tracing the contours of the necklace. "At least I gave you a good chase, right?"

Clenching his fists, Bucky shot back, "This game of yours will catch up with you, sooner or later."

As Y/N turned to make her daring escape, Bucky, fueled by a sudden surge of boldness, blurted out, "Next time I catch you, you won't be leaving my bed."

The unexpected declaration left Y/N momentarily speechless, her usual quick-witted responses failing her.

Caught off guard, she stammered, "Umm, well... I guess, bye?" With a flustered glance back at Bucky, she activated her wingsuit and soared into the night, leaving Bucky on the rooftop.

Bucky scoffed as he watched Y/N disappear into the night. Despite her successful escape, a sense of satisfaction lingered within him. His unexpected declaration made him feel a small victory in catching her off guard. 

His words held a truth that echoed in his mind – the next encounter wouldn't be a game.

*****

At Y/N's hideout:

After safely landing on the ground and delivering the stolen diamond necklace to her client, Y/N returned home. Bucky's words echoed in her mind, "Next time I catch you, you won't be leaving my bed."

Embarrassment flushed through her, and her heart raced at realizing she might have pushed the boundaries too far. Y/N acknowledged that she had always seen Bucky as a younger brother, especially given his close friendship with Steve. However, something had shifted.

Sighing, Y/N muttered, "What kind of mess have I gotten myself into?"

Part 1,- Part 2, Part 3,-

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

#bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnes #bucky barnes x thief!reader #thief!reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier x you #sebastian x y/n #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan x reader

[marvelsmylife]

Soul(Mates) Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader, Azriel x Elain, (eventually) Azriel x reader 

Plot: the mystery man reveals who and what he is. 

Soul(Mates) Masterlist

The team remained silent for several seconds before Stephen took it upon himself to explain the situation to the man who revealed his name as Rhysand. He revealed that he was a high lord of the night court and explained that he couldn’t be your mate.

“I already have a mate ”Rhys explains. His violet eyes finally landed on you and a surprised expression appeared on his face as he took a good look at you “It can’t be. How did you end up here.”

“What do you mean? I was born here” you asked nervously.

Rhysand made his way over to you but just as he approached you, Bucky stepped in front of you. “Do not get any closer” Bucky warned.

“I get that you might think that, seeing that someone has removed your wings.” Rhysand sighed as he stared at the wingless woman in front of him. “Such a shame, but you are an Illyrian faerie” Rhys replied causing your eyes to widen.

You reached back and felt the back of your dress where the scars were “My parents said I had an accident-”

“Your parents lied to you” Rhys replied bluntly “I don’t know how you and your parents got here but you are not from this world. You’ll need to come with me so we can figure out how you got here and you can finally meet Azriel”.

Panic started to set in and everyone tried to stall so you wouldn’t have to go “And how do you know she’s this Azriel guy's mate? Maybe this was a mistake and the portal accidentally opened to your world” Thor asked.

Stephen looked at Thor offended by his statement “I never make mistakes”.

Rhysand laughed at the exchange that was going on in front of him before explaining: “Well, seeing as everyone else from my inner circle has already found their mate, it’s safe to say she’s Azriel’s.”

You felt disgusted hearing him talking about you like you were someone's property. “I don’t have to be” You finally spoke up and got everyone’s attention “You can go and we can pretend this never happened.”

Rhysand shook his head before replying “Oh I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Now that I know you exist, I need you to come with me.”

The team erupted in protest at Rhysand's statement and joined Bucky in shielding you from the high lord. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen” Tony stated.

“I’m asking you nicely” Rhysand stared down Tony and the rest of the team that was shielding you from him “Come with me and everyone in this room gets to live.”

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @quinxxs @stained-glass-eyes0708 @dustyinkpages @saltedcoffeescotch @blackgirlmagicforever

#avengers imagines #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky x reader #azriel x reader #acotar imagine

[sjsmith56]

Customer Service - Part 2

Summary: Bucky makes it right with his former girlfriend. Second part of two part story.

Length: 3.8 K

Warnings: Angst, acknowledgement of emotional distancing.

<<Part 1

🔹 🔹 🔹

It had been several weeks since Bucky bought his suit at the store where I worked. He picked up the trousers that had been hemmed, waiting until I went on my lunch break to take them, so that we didn’t meet. Even though it was what I wanted, a part of me was hurt that he didn’t even try to see me. The suit looked good when I saw the TV coverage of the White House visit showing the Avengers receiving their commendation for a difficult mission that was successfully completed without the loss of life. Fashion blogs singled him out for the black monochromatic look he wore, saying it was obvious he had a professional stylist help him look so handsome and debonair. It was flattering and devastating to me at the same time. I knew I was good at my job, but I also knew that by remaining coldly professional with him I likely destroyed any chance of ever reconciling with him. C’est la vie.

We did notice an uptick in sales after the fashion blogs took note, as someone connected to the Avengers PR team mentioned our store, and the excellent customer service Bucky encountered in his search for a suit. The store manager was pleased, commending me for taking advantage of the lucky opportunity to sell a suit to an Avenger as well-known as Bucky Barnes. If he only knew the truth, that I only did it so I could see my former boyfriend once more. Then I noticed a couple of the other Avengers showing up, some of them like Joaquin Torres and Peter Parker browsing in the men’s wear selection, shyly waving at me when I became aware of their presence. Others, like Yelena Belova and Kate Bishop trying things on in the women’s wear or makeup departments. If I had been a suspicious person, I would have thought they were spying on me. But I wasn’t and they weren’t, at least not in the way I was expecting.

It wasn’t until I became aware of the celebrity gossip shows promoting the appearance of Bucky at several premieres and fashion events with some starlet on his arm that I understood why they had been at the store. As long as I was unaware of what was going on everything was alright. But as soon as Bucky moved on, I wasn’t alright; I wasn’t happy at all. When Sam showed up just before my lunch hour one day (with suspiciously accurate timing) I knew he was there for me.

“I’m fine,” I said to him, when he presented himself near the staff room door to intercept me.

“You’re not,” he said bluntly. “You’re allowed to leave the store for an hour, right? Come with me and we’ll talk. I’ll buy you lunch.”

Five minutes later we were in a small café, our hands around a couple of cups of coffee and an order placed for a Cobb salad for me, and burger with fries for him.

“Ever since he showed up at the White House wearing the suit you chose for him, the PR team has been pushing him to be more visible,” he said. “Apparently, he’s got the hottest look going for men right now and they want to take advantage of him being the first one to show up in public like that. He’s not dating any of them. In fact, he doesn’t even like doing it.”

“Could have fooled me,” I said. “Not that it matters since we broke up months ago. He’s free to see anyone he wants.”

“He doesn’t want anyone else,” declared Sam. “He only stayed away because that’s what you wanted; what you indicated the last time he saw you.”

“I know that,” I answered. “I created a monster. Now I have to live with my creation.”

He breathed out my name, but I just glared at him. Even though seeing Bucky out with those other women hurt, I knew objectively that he had no obligations to me, just as I had none to him. We were both free agents, free to do what we wanted or see whoever we chose to see. The fact I hadn’t even gone out on a single date since we broke up was beside the point. I could go with whoever I wanted, once I was ready. Sam gamely tried to make me feel better and even tried again to convince me to speak with Bucky, but I was pretty adamant. We were done. Taking some cash out of my purse for my part of the bill I left it on the table.

“Hey, no, this is my treat,” said Sam, putting it back in my hand. “Please, just think about things, will you?”

“You know, Sam, I would,” I said. “It’s just that when we were together, he never wanted to go out in public with me. Said he didn’t like the attention. I only wanted to go out maybe once a week to dinner or a movie and he wouldn’t do that for me. Yet, he manages to go out for the PR people several times a week with different beautiful women, meeting celebrities, rubbing shoulders with the famous people, people who don’t even matter to him. What does that say to me, the woman he supposedly loved. He needs to get his priorities straight, don’t you think?”

Sam’s face fell as he didn’t have a comeback for that because it was true. When I stepped outside it was raining which was just great, as it totally added to the crying I was trying not to do. By the time I got back to the store I had to excuse myself to the ladies' room and fix my makeup before I was presentable again. I threw myself into my job and tried to put any thought of James Buchanan Barnes out of my head.

That lasted another week until I was on the late shift, helping to close down the store at 9 pm. As a manager, it was my responsibility to go through the various departments, confirming that every till was closed off, the empty cash drawer left open to indicate the employer had bagged the money, minus the float, and taken both upstairs, where another manager confirmed they turned both amounts in. Security had already shooed the customers out, although there was always one or two who showed up with a minute or two left until the store closed, insistent they could get what they wanted quickly and at no inconvenience to the staff. Fortunately, the security staff were under strict orders to refuse entry to anyone arriving up to 5 minutes before closing, citing store security policy. A few years before someone had showed up, then hid in a storeroom and waited until they were certain they were alone, in an attempt to rob the safe. They weren’t alone, as the security system picked them up as soon as they exited the storeroom. By the time they made it up to the office the police were waiting with drawn guns.

It was 9:30 by the time I finished my duties and grabbed my purse and jacket, ready to take the train to my apartment, almost an hour’s ride away. I was tired, both emotionally and physically. After saying goodnight to the security guard on duty while he let me out, I headed towards the subway station when I heard my name being called. Turning around I saw Bucky, leaning against a car that was parked on the street. With a sigh, I approached him.

“What do you want?” I asked, knowing I was sounding abrupt, but I was too tired to care.

“Just to talk,” he said. “Get in, I’ll drive you home.” I looked around, trying to think of something, anything to say to him, as to why that wouldn’t be a good idea. “Please.”

He held the door open for me, waiting to make sure I was buckled in before he closed the door then he got behind the wheel and started up the car. Smoothly, he pulled into traffic and headed towards Queens. The sound system was on, connected to one of his jazz playlists. Turning it down so that it didn’t overwhelm us he drove quietly for a few moments.

“How are you?” he asked, finally.

“Fine.”

“Sweetheart, I know that fine means a lot of things, but it usually isn’t something good. Please, talk to me.”

“Alright, if you want to know the truth. I’m not fine. I work, I go home, force myself to eat something, then I watch TV until I fall asleep in front of it. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and drag myself to bed and other times I don’t, waking up in my clothes the next morning. Then I shower, force myself to eat breakfast and go to work. That’s my life. Satisfied?”

He breathed heavily, almost angrily, although his face seemed more upset than angry.

“Sam told me he talked to you.”

“And? What more do you want me to add, Bucky?”

“It wasn’t my idea to go out to these events,” he said. “It’s an obligation I would rather not have.”

“Right, yet you still do it. I only asked for us to go out on occasion like a real couple and you didn’t feel any obligation to do it for me, but you’ll do it for PR people. Did you not want people to know we were a couple?”

“Did you?” he countered. “I noticed that you didn’t say anything to the people you work with that we were a couple once upon a time. Were you ashamed of me?”

“No, I wasn’t,” I snapped. “I didn’t say anything to them because they’re a bunch of gossips who would have bugged me constantly for any juicy tidbits about the Avengers.” I looked out the window, shaking my head, while I trembled inside. “I didn’t need that in my life.”

Bucky looked away for a moment before looking at me. “What did you need? Because I feel there were a whole lot of things that I obviously didn’t know you wanted or needed. What did I miss?”

I knew if I started listing things that I would start crying so I said the only thing I could think of. “Everything.”

He looked stunned before he pulled over to an open spot, parking the car. Then he turned to me.

“Darlin’, look at me.” His voice was so silky and soft. When I turned towards him, I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks, unchecked. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I honestly thought I was holding you back.”

“You see, this is why … I couldn’t do it anymore,” I cried. “You were so unavailable to me, even when we were in the same room. You didn’t tell me things; didn’t say anything about your thoughts or fears. I thought I wasn’t that important to you. I thought that what we had was physical more than anything. So, I withdrew as well, trying to protect myself from how much it hurt.” I looked at him, feeling the pain on his face in my gut. “Aren’t we a pair?”

“Is there any chance to make it right? I don’t want anyone else; I never did.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I want to believe that I matter to you, I really do.”

I undid my seatbelt and opened the door, unable to take any more of it. Before I had even gone ten feet, Bucky was in front of me, blocking me from going any further. Every move I made to get past him; he countered it. It was too much, and I broke down completely, wailing like a baby. He enclosed me in his arms at that moment and held me, stroking my hair and rubbing my back, just letting me cry it out until I was spent. When I stopped crying, I didn’t know what time it was, or where we were. All I was aware of was the warmth of his body and the sound of his heart pounding as I laid my head against his chest. Then Bucky murmured something, and I wasn’t sure I heard him right, so I looked up at him.

“What did you say?”

“I said, let’s go home,” he repeated, looking into my eyes.

“Which home?”

My place was still quite a drive away in Queens. When we broke up, he had been living in a small flat in Brooklyn. It wasn’t the nicest place, but it was what his Army pension and a government stipend could afford. With a smile he kissed me.

“I have something to show you,” he said quietly, gazing at me with those blue eyes. I started to ask for details, but he placed his fingertips on my lips. “Let me show you, then you can ask me anything.”

Just the way he was looking at me, so softly and sweetly, I knew it was something important. We got back in the car and were soon on our way to Brooklyn. On a street in Prospect Heights, Bucky slowed up, then parked in front of a brownstone that had scaffolding set up in front of it. He turned the car off and pointed to it.

“With what I make with the Avengers and my lawsuit settlement finally coming through I decided to invest in a home. It needed some work as it was used as a rooming house for a long time. New plumbing, flooring, HVAC, windows, and then when it’s finished, painting and furnishings. Would you like to see it?”

I could see that it meant a lot to him, so I nodded, and he came around to open the car door for me, offering his hand to help me out, still very much a 1940s gentleman. He followed me up the steps then entered a number in the keypad which unlocked the door. Turning on the entryway light he stepped back to allow me to enter first. The floors were covered in a layer of protective paper. The walls had been refinished but still needed a final coat of plaster, then paint, and the windows needed trimming, but the lighting fixtures were up and as he turned them on, I could see that it would be a lovely home. He showed me the kitchen and unlocked the door to a terrace that led down to a small patio area with a shade tree. Returning back to the house we went upstairs to the second floor which had two bedrooms, one of them a large master with an ensuite bathroom and walk-in closet. The stairs led to a third floor with two more bedrooms. All of them had hardwood floors and had been painted in a soft grey colour. As we headed back down to the living room area, he told me more.

“The basement has an office and a workout room. I’ll need somewhere to stay fit.”

I looked at the back of his head, as he descended ahead of me on the stairs, puzzled by the last comment because I knew that Stark Tower had the best in terms of fitness facilities.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why are you showing me this now?”

He stepped out into the living room area, took a breath, then placed his hand on mine, playing with my fingers.

“When I agreed to be part of the Avengers, I never envisioned being in a relationship with anyone,” he began. “I thought it would be enough to pay back society for what I did as the Winter Soldier, maybe date a bit, and then someday, buy a bar somewhere on a tropical island and finish out my days there. Then I met you, and it threw me for a loop. I didn’t handle it well, convincing myself that you would realize I wasn’t a good bet. So, I held myself apart from you. I guess I was deliberately sabotaging our relationship, trying to see how far I could push you away before you left. Well, I found out and I hurt you in the process. I hurt us both because I rationalized that it was all for the better. Then I saw you again, at the store.”

“Sam told me you were there deliberately, to see me. You bought those boots on an impulse so you would have an excuse to come back.”

He didn’t deny it. “All those times you offered to help me buy a nice suit and I turned you down because I thought you were just being polite. Then I needed help for real and you were so detached and professional, that I figured it really was over between us. When the PR people said they wanted me to be out and about, showing how I had evolved from this jeans and T-shirt guy to someone who could represent the organization I said yes, thinking I should be a better team player. The others kept telling me you were hurting after the first PR pictures and videos came out. They could see it every time one of them came into the store then you admitted how much you were struggling to Sam. It just all came to a head how unfair I had been to you.”

“Tell me,” I demanded. “Tell me how you’ve been unfair. I want to know if you realize what you really did.”

He had the decency to look embarrassed. “I know that I wasn’t good at telling you how much you meant to me. When we were on missions, I know I should have called you or texted you more, just to say I was thinking of you and couldn’t wait for when I got back. It wasn’t fair asking you to look after me when I was hurt. I tried to rationalize it by convincing myself that because I would be healed the next day that it wouldn’t bother you, but it did, didn’t it?” I sobbed out loud then, and his face broke. “I guess the worst thing is that I was being selfish when I didn’t want to go out. Part of me tried to say it was time devoted to you, but the truth was that I was afraid to be out with you; not just because I was afraid of people judging me, wondering why I should have someone like you in my life when I’ve taken so many lives. There was hate mail, threatening to hurt my loved ones.” I stopped crying, as this was the first that I had heard of it. “So, I rationalized staying home so I could protect you, not thinking that it made you feel trapped.” He touched my face with a worried expression on his. “How am I doing?”

“What does this have to do with buying a house?” I asked. He took another deep breath.

“I’m retiring from active duty,” he said. “They’re recruiting a bunch of new people, some of them kids but with powers that make me look like a stick in the mud. In many ways I am a stick in the mud. I like my 40s music, I don’t get reality TV, and I haven’t had a break since 1943. I think I’ve earned the right to have a private life. I’ll still help train these new kids, and if there’s a big mission, I’ll consider going on it, but I want a home, and a family, with a wife and kids, and a dog, and a cat … all of it.”

“What else will you do?”

“Get my GED, go to college,” he replied. “Maybe be a house husband, cook the meals, clean the house, and look after my kids while my wife continues on her career, if that’s what she wants to do. I’m in a new century and there are parts of it I want to embrace as long as I have the right person with me.” He was touching my face again, with his fingertips just brushing against my jaw. “I asked you earlier what I could do to make it right. I already knew the answer. I make you the focus of my life. It’s all about you and should have been from the start. Let me make you happy, let me show you every day how much you matter.”

I wanted to believe him and by the look on his face he wanted me to believe him as well. He bought a house, a big one, to fill with love and laughter, children and pets, and he bought it for me. Not only that, but he was also willing to retire, and start doing something else with his life; embracing the life he wanted in the 1940s but wasn’t allowed to have until now, if only I was willing to embrace it with him.

“You know, I was thinking of getting out of retail,” I said. “The hours aren’t great for relationships, from Thanksgiving on through the New Year the crowds are ridiculous, and customer service isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. I’m at a point in my life where I’m ready to try something different.”

“Like what?” he asked, a soft smile on his face.

“Like marriage and a family, and a husband who adores me.”

“I can provide that,” he murmured, his arms moving around my waist. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, then I’m more than willing to help you get it.”

“Is that a proposal?” It became very still at that moment.

“No, but I can do that, too,” he said, not missing a beat. “That’s a promise.”

Our lips met then, and he poured every bit of his love for me into that kiss. We stood in that unfinished living room, the smell of plaster still in the air from the first coat put on the walls. There were no window coverings so anyone passing by would have seen Bucky Barnes and some woman kissing like there was nothing else in the world pressing upon them. When I got into his car after work, I was certain that this was it, the end was coming, and whatever was keeping us apart was too big to overcome. Instead, I found someone who wanted what I wanted, and was willing to change his life to make me happy. If he was willing to do that, then so was I. I never wanted him to quit the Avengers for me, but it was always going to be an option now, a choice that we could make together, when the time was right. The timing was perfect.

Short Fiction Masterlist

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #sam wilson #reconciliation #kiss and make up #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #buckybarnesshortfic #bucky barnes short fiction

[companionjones]

But He's Married (2/4)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Fandoms: Marvel, MCU

Summary: You meet a guy in a laundry room.

Warnings: The lead up to smut, *spoilers* abusive relationship

1/2/3/4

It had been about a week since your house-warming party, and you hadn't stopped thinking about him. James. Bucky. Mr. Unavailable.

You were thinking about him so hard that you swore you made him appear in the laundry room of your building. He was coming in while you were on your way out. You nearly bumped into each other.

He seemed just as taken off guard by your appearance as you were his. "Y/n! Uh, it's, uh, nice to see you."

You hastily leaned down to pick up a shirt that had fallen out of his basket. "It's nice to see you too, Bucky," you returned, dropped the shirt back onto the pile in Bucky's arms, and continued on your way.

"What did you just call me?"

He didn't sound offended, just confused, but but you still quickly answered, "Bucky. Sorry. If it's a problem, I won't--"

"No." Bucky shook his head. A smile graced his lips. "It's just...Steve's the only one that calls me that anymore. I actually prefer it to James."

You were relieved. "Oh, you do! Okay! And Steve's actually the one who told me about Bucky, so..." You tried really hard not to notice him turning a light shade of pink at that statement.

Things quieted between you two. Then, suddenly, you spoke at the same time.

"So, you have a wife--"

"About Shannon--"

You both shut up at the sound of the other talking. Both of you blushed and looked away.

"You go first," you offered to him.

Bucky stuttered, "I-I, uh-I really don't know what to say."

"Just tell me the truth," you encouraged.

He gazed at you for a moment while he came up with the words. "...I saw you at the party, and my whole world just lit up. Shannon...things haven't been right between us for a long time. I'm starting to think it's been since I met her, but when I sat down with you....You were just so kind and-and-and sweet that I could help myself."

"What are you saying?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

He looked frustrated; like he couldn't get himself to say the right thing. Then, he kissed you.

You dropped your basket out of surprise. You didn't know how to react at first. You just froze. Then, you couldn't help yourself, you melted into him.

Bucky dropped his basket as well so he could encircle you in his arms.

The two of you stumbled backward until your back hit a washing machine. That was what woke you up. "Wait." You pushed him off you, and Bucky complied immediately. "What are we doing? You're married--"

"I'll leave her," he told you, out of breath.

"What?"

"I'll leave her tomorrow so I can be with you. If you'll have--"

"Bucky, this is the second time you've talked to me--"

He cupped the sides of your face. "I don't care. I don't care. You hear me? What I've felt for you since the moment I laid eyes on you is...it's the opposite of what I feel for her."

"This is insane," you realized.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"This is cr--What?"

Bucky's eyes wouldn't come off your lips. He looked like a man starved. "Can I. Kiss you. Again."

Your eyes had fallen down to his lips, but your lips wouldn't move. You gave him a curt nod.

Immediately, before you could blink, he was back on you. You moaned when his tongue dragged across your bottom lip, and he moaned as he entered your mouth.

After who knows how long, Bucky pulled back. "Can you jump onto here so I can do this properly?" He patted the top of the washer.

"We're in the laundry room." You glanced toward the door. "Anyone could walk in."

His gaze darkened, causing you to look back at him. "You really think I care about that right now?"

You swallowed, and hopped on top of the washer.

"Good job, sweetheart," he bid with a smirk before capturing your lips once more.

Swiftly, you pulled his shirt over his head.

"What the hell is this?"

Sure, someone could've taken what you saw simply as a husband and wife loving each other, but you couldn't believe that after all Bucky had told you, and the bruises were too bad for that to be believable, anyway.

"Bucky, who did this to you?"

*******

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #mcu #sebastian stan #companion jones #but he's married #who saw this before i finished it??? #what do you think of the 'who did this to you' trope???

[tessatales]

The Sins of the Winter Soldier Chapter 4

Pairing: Bucky x female Reader

Warnings: brief mention of seizures! Generally uncomfortable chapter for anyone who doesn’t like shouting/feeling trapped etc. mention of retrained and bruising.

Theme: slow burn romance.

A/N: Hey! I hope you enjoy this chapter yall! I’m really enjoying writing it honestly. I walk to work and have to write ideas down for the next chapters as I walk lol. Find Chapter 1 here

Tags: @scott-loki-barnes @kandis-mom @identity2212

Chapter 4

“What the hell were you thinking Y/N!” Tony shouted, his voice reverberating around the room as he stared you down. Sinking further into your seat, you continued your vow of silence as you felt the eyes of the team study and judge you one by one.

You’d been unceremoniously woken up and practically dragged to the meeting room roughly 2 hours after you’d returned from the Pit, your eyes heavy and your brain foggy with the lack of sleep. The tiredness had quickly left you once you’d realised what you were being brought in for.

They knew.

“Tony-”

“Don’t Tony me Natasha, you’re just as pissed as I am about this whole situation so don’t pretend you’re not!” Tony interrupted, swiftly shutting the Widow down. You continued to stared at the table in front of you, your fingers fiddling with the buttons of the flannel shirt you’d fallen asleep in. When fidgeting failed to keep your breathing steady, you searched for the door, using your fight or flight instincts to somehow ground yourself.

The door was shut.

Since being rescued, you’d expressed your need to keep the doors open wherever you went. You’d been used to cells and cages for years, so like many other things, closed doors had become the enemy.

“You are a wanted asset by Hydra! So what do you do? Go and hang out with their best assassin! Honestly kid I can’t believe you’ve been so reckless!” Tony continued, the vein in his head throbbing slightly as he turned away from you to face the window.

You felt your breathing start to shallow and your hearing become tinny and muted as you began to panic. Everything in the room becoming not quite real as your anxiety began to take hold. The now familiar sensation of your power trickled up your body like a snake ready to constrict it’s pray. You stare at the door again, willing it to spring open so you didn’t feel so suffocated.

He knows I need the door open and he’s closed it. You thought as you tried to calm yourself down. The room going silent as you realised your skin had begun to shimmer with light.

“Tony stop shouting at her” Nat seemed to say, standing from the table to turn the genius around to face you. You couldn’t hear them anymore, just the roar of your blood and the crackle of your magic in your ears. But you knew his words had faltered when you watched his mouth go slack.

With a bang the door flew open. The glass groaned loudly as Bruce barged it open. You could tell he’d been running from his appearance; with his shirt askew and his breathing heavy as he held the door open wide.

“Y/N. You can leave, I’ll find you later okay?” Bruce said calmly as he steadied his breathing. His face setting into an angry scowl as he looked at Tony.

With the door open, you felt as if all three air has been put back in the room and you gulped at it greedily as you bolted for freedom. You barely looked back as you raced out of the room, your legs carrying you away without command.

Free free free free free

*Bruce POV*

“How long has the door been closed!” Nat exclaimed, waving her hand in the doors direction. Tony gaped, fishlike as he seemed to come crashing back to reality.

“I- I must of shut it without realising when I came it.” Tony said finally, falling into Y/N’s recently vacated seat as his adrenaline seemed to leave him. Bruce watched as his friend’s gaze lingered on the now empty corridor, the guilt in his eyes multiplying by the second.

“Yeah, you were so much of a hot head you forgot one of her most important rules. What did I say about talking to her about going to the Pit?” Bruce said with anger, his hands sweeping in the direction Y/N had run. Tony stared blankly for a moment, the rest of the team now looking between the two scientists.

“Tony had a right to be angry Bruce” Steve said as he came to Tony’s defence. There was no conviction in Steve’s voice as he said it, knowing he probably felt just as guilty as Tony now the situation was over.

“Not when she got him to speak.” Bruce countered, staring each team member down.

“You didn’t give me chance to tell you the full story. Just heard me say she’d been down there and boom you’re off the rails like an angry dad finding out his daughter drank for the first time.” Bruce continued, folding his arms as he looked at his fellow Avengers. They all looked away, not one of his friends able to defend their actions.

“I’m sorry” Tony said after a beat, his face ashen has he came to terms with how badly he’s messed up. Bruce scoffed, shaking his head before dropping his arms to his sides.

“It’s not me you should be apologising to. Let me go find Y/N and hopefully I can convince her that you’re not all against her.” Bruce said, striding towards the door.

“You might of shut the door Tony, but all of you sat there and judged her for something you didn’t even have the full facts too. So don’t think that he’s the only one who needs to apologise” Bruce said, turning back to his friends. As much as he loved them all, he hated having to be the level headed one. With a final look, he turned and went in search of Y/N.

*Your POV*

Bruce found you on the Pit observation deck. Your back pressed against the deck rails as you’d tucked yourself away in a corner.

When in Hydra, you’d learnt to make yourself as small as possible, at first it was to try and hide, hoping against hope you’d one day blend in with your cell walls. Afterwards it was to stop them beating you in fear of you using your power against them. You couldn’t blow them up if you were unconscious during transport.

“I’m sorry I told him you’d been down there. You’d think knowing him for years would of made me realise I should start with interesting news first, then the stuff that will piss him off” Bruce said with a small smile, coming to sit in front of you. He still looked tired from running, and you wondered to yourself why he’d done it in the first place.

Was it he feared for me, or was it the fear of me? You thought as you picked at your nails.

“I didn’t even know you were there” You replied, your face tight from crying. Bruce shrugged.

“You seemed so determined to shout at Bucky I’m not surprised you didn’t notice me.” Bruce replied, his smile broadening. You couldn’t help but give him a small smile in return.

“That’s better” Bruce said, slapping his hand against his leg in triumph.

“Now your smiling, I can tell you what Tony was meant to say to you” Bruce continued as he stood, dusting imaginary dust from his trousers before offering you a hand. You take it, wiping your face of any remaining tears as you were helped to your feet.

“And what’s that?” You ask, shoving your hands in your pyjama pockets as you began to walk beside the scientist.

“Bucky has been here nearly 8 weeks, and you’ve been seeing him…?” Bruce begins, gesturing with his hands for you to fill in the missing information. You were silent for a few steps, trying not to feel guilty as you admitted how long it had been going on.

“Every night for about 7 weeks” You admit, watching Bruce’s face for signs of disapproval. You see non, only the interested face of your friend. The lack of judgement in his eyes eased your nerve a little.

“Great, so you’ve seen him every night for a few hours each night. And you’ve already gotten him to speak.” Bruce confirms, looking at you as he clarifies. You nod, kicking your feet out as you walked.

“Right. Whereas me, Tony and the Shield team have been working with him for at least a week longer and for twice as many hours and we’ve got nothing. Not a peep.” Bruce said with an exasperated laugh.

“What are you trying to say Bruce?” You interrupt, eyeing the scientists with suspicion. His smile turned sheepish as he glanced your way.

“We want you to help up with Bucky. Be apart of his rehabilitation.” Bruce said finally, his eyes almost pleading as he looked at you.

You felt your stomach drop. The shock of the statement sending your head in a spin. You stopped walking, your feet failing you as you tried to get your head around everything.

“So I’ve just had an earful from Tony just for you to scrap it all and ask me to be apart of his rehabilitation? What about Steve? What does he think” You asked with disbelief, the frown on your face so deep you could feel it start to ache.

Bruce turned to face you, taking the final few steps backwards and he went to press the button for the lift.

“Screw Tony, his head was up his own ass just then.” Bruce said with a shrug. Although he was smiling at you, you could still see the threads of anger around his eyes. With a ding, the lift opened, and Bruce continued his backwards walk into the now open space behind him.

“And Steve will be fine with it. They all will be. I just gave them a lot to think about before coming to find you.” Bruce finished, holding his hand out to gesture for you to enter the lift. You trudged forwards, your legs feeling heavy as you approached the scientist.

Once the doors had closed, Bruce turned to you, his face sincere as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

“To be honest with you Y/N. We need your help. And the team are rather bias when it comes to you because of what you went through with Hydra. They see you as the little girl who was taken. Not the adult that stands before them now.” Bruce said with conviction, his eyes never leaving yours as the lift descended.

“Why me though? Why do you think he spoke to me?” You ask finally as you tried to work through everything that had happened in the last hour. Bruce shrugged.

“Depends what you talked about. Might be he recognised you and saw you as a fellow survivor of Hydra.” Bruce mused, facing the lift doors.

“But he sees himself as a monster, not a survivor” You counter, staring at the lift numbers as they settled on their requested floor. The Pit.

“You thought that too once, remember?” Bruce said in a low voice, his eyes soft as he glanced at you. You were about to reply when shouting from behind the lift doors caught both of your attention.

“What the..?” Bruce said as the doors opened, the pair of you practically falling through the doors to see what all the commotion was about. You zeroed in on it instantly. In the centre of the Pit cell, Bucky was being retrained by several pairs of robotic arms, his arm and legs being help down as he was strapped to a chair.

“What are they doing!” You shout, looking wildly to Bruce as you both race up to the cell. Overseeing this was Shield’s head Scientist. Dr Andrew Spellman.

“Dr Spellman what the hell are you doing? I didn’t agree to any of this!” Bruce bellowed as he got to the cell. You watched as the Dr barely glanced at Bruce, his expression blank as he continued to gaze into the cell. You felt a sick twist in your stomach as you watched the Dr stare down at Bucky, as if his shouts of pain didn’t bother him.

“The book arrived while you were away Dr Banner. I decided to take action and begin the process. Please remember, I lead this team. We are just using yours and Starks facilities.” The man said very matter of factly, his face never changing from the bored expression it wore.

You looked at Bucky again, his eyes wide and scared as he looked between the three of you before looking down at the book in Dr Spellman hand.

“What book? What’s he on about Bruce?” You ask, the fear you see in Bucky eyes spiking your adrenaline. Bruce ran his hands through his hair.

“We found it when raiding the small Hydra base in Siberia. We assumed it was where he came from when we picked him up.” Bruce explained, his breathing coming out on puffs as he tried to calm himself.

“We ended up finding a book that contained what we believed were The Winter Soldiers trigger words. We deducted than if they’re said in the right order to him it’s meant to reset him to his original Winter Soldier form.” Bruce said in a flood of words. His face strained as he tried to remain himself.

“Why the hell would you bring it here!” You half shout, exasperation and anger flooding your system. You quickly calm yourself when you see a flash of green in Bruce’s eyes. Pausing a moment, Bruce bright himself back down, his posture slumping slightly as he tamed Him.

“I wanted to study it to see if there was a way to desensitise him to the words. Make them worthless. But he’s not ready for it yet!” Bruce continued, aiming the end of his sentence at Dr Spellman.

The Doctor seemed to simply ignore him. His back to the pair of you as he opened the book. It took him a few moments to find the page, his hand skimming delicately as he found what he was after. You weren’t certain, but you were almost sure you saw glee in the older man’s eyes as he read.

“Do something!” You say, pulling on Bruce’s arm. He shakes his head in defeat.

“It’s part of the shield contract, I can’t interfere and I can’t let Him out or they lock me in a cell” Bruce replies, his voice defeated. You could see the conflict in Bruce’s eyes.

“All the Avengers had to sign it before they allowed him to be transported here” Bruce continued, seemingly to read your mind as you fiddled with your communication bracelet.

“Longing” Dr Spellman began, his voice strong as he directs it into the cell. You watched in defeat as Bucky strained in his seat, the robotic arms already leaving bloody bruises where they held him.

“Rusted” Dr Spellman continued.

“S-Stop” Bucky whimpered, his voice horse and broken. Something in you broke as you watched him tremble.

“He said stop” You whisper, your voice not quite your own. The tingle of your magic was a welcome feeling as you walked towards the scientist. He kept his back turned to you, his posture never changing as you approached.

“Go away little girl, this is no concern of yours” Spellman said dismissively, waving a hand in your direction. Mimicking the man’s movements, you watched with dull recognition as the book flew from the his hand. Coming to float above your head, your conscious brain tried to focus on the little red book as it hovered above you, but your magic fought to take over.

“I’ll say it again. He said stop” You repeated, battling the fog in your brain. Noticing Bucky’s shaking hand as he fought against the robot was enough to fight the final throw of magic. You smiled with delight as you felt the warm glow of your skin as you grasped your power for the first time.

“You can’t do this! This is against the contract! I’ll have you in a cell for this” Spellman seethed, shaking his fist at you as he tried to swipe for the book. He quickly recoiled when your magic caught his flailing arms, suspending him in the air like a rag doll on a washing line.

“I don’t think so. I’m not an Avenger. You have no signature from me.” You reply with a smile, watching as the man’s face drain of colour. You could see his terror as he realised there was no document to stop you from killing him. You looked towards Bucky then, watching as his face bounced between you and the scientist. Wondering what he saw, you focused in on your own reflection.

You looked like you were submerged in water, your hair floated around you in a halo of green and blue light as is you were adrift in the sea. Your eyes reflected the same colours, shining brightly in the reflection. Your whole body seemed to vibrate and glow with the power that coursed through your limbs. You felt strong, you instilled fear.

“Instill fear. Be ruthless. That is all you are good for loveless child”

The Hydra drill Sargent words barrelled into your chest like a punch, knocking the control you had over your power. Suddenly feeling drained, you put the man down.

“You’re fired. Consider this your last day” You whisper, watching as the man scurried away with hatred in his eyes. Dr Spellman rubbed his wrists.

“This won’t stand!” Spellman said from a safe distance away, his back straight as he tried to sound in charge. You scoffed, trying your best to hold you power as you spoke.

“I used to be Hydra once too. If you come near Bucky or this book again. I might just forget everything the Avengers taught me about holding back” You say with a smile, the threat so sickly sweet you could almost taste it. Dr Spellman blanched, his mouth agape as he stomped out of the Pit.

With the threat gone, you let go, your power coursing out of you like a waterfall. It was only when your feet touched the floor that you realised you’d been hovering just above the ground.

You had just enough control of your power left to remove the robotic arms from Bucky, each arm disintegrating as you poured your final drags of power into them. With Bucky free, you let yourself collapse.

The last thing you could see was the ex assassin as he crouched beside you on the other side of the forcefield. You tried to smile at him as you felt the pain intensify, your vision finally blacking out as you began to convulse.

A/N: Chapter 5 can be found here

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