#bucky barnes deserves a hug

[cratlord]

Prince of the Seas - Chapter 2

Oh yeah.  I’m dumping 13 chapters on here today.  It’s happening. 

Pairing: Bucky x Ruby / Some Bucky x Killian

Summary: Things did not get better for Bucky Barnes after he and Sam had their adventure. They got worse. After years of living only through stolen moments of his own life, he is given a chance to build a life in a whole new world. The catch? That life is going to be a very, very long one. This is the tale of the life built in the Realm that will one day be known as Misthaven, or the Enchanted Forest.

Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, suicidal thoughts, violence, Sexual content

With no regard to traffic laws, Bucky made it home in record time.  He pulled up to his little townhouse, on it’s mostly quiet street, just as the sun began to set.  He sat on his bike for a moment, just watching the colors in the sky over the trees.  Tearing his eyes away, he pulled off his helmet and placed it delicately on the seat, careful it didn’t bounce off.  He took the keys off the mangled kitty cat key chain Peter Parker’s great granddaughter had given him about ten years ago, and hung them on the hand break.  He gave the bike one last pat then turned to cross the sidewalk.

His townhouse wasn’t very fancy, but it was still a huge upgrade from the closet of an apartment his first four handlers had allowed him.  It was on the outskirts of New York City, in a decent enough neighborhood.  It had a brick front, and even a small patch of fenced in back yard.  He worked too much to use it for a dog or anything, but he was still able to make a simple garden work, considering the relative ease of watering on a timer.  His simple home with it’s beautiful back yard full of flowers had been his only safe haven for the last fifty years.

He took the steps into the house three at a time, and let himself in, the proximity locks opening as he approached the thick oak door.  He gently closed the door behind him and gave himself a moment to just look around.  He breathed deeply the familiar smells of home as he looked at all the pictures on the walls.  As a whole, his life had been overwhelmingly shit.  First Hydra, then after only a few brief years of freedom, this whole new legal form of slavery invented just for him.  The real kick to the balls was that if they had just asked him to be an Avenger, he would have.  Despite all the years of torture, he had never wanted to die.  There was so much he hadn’t had a chance to do yet.  He had enough people he loved and happy memories to not want his world to end.  The few good memories he did have, he treasured deeply, and kept them, like some old sentimental grandma, on his walls.  

There was one of him and Steve in Wakanda before the whole thing with Thanos, Bucky laughing hysterically at how red Steve’s face was getting from eating something way too spicy.  Steve kept trying to smile for the camera, even though he was also trying not to cough.  Shuri had taken that photo.  Next to that was a picture of Shuri herself, when he had gone back to Wakanda to replace his arm at one point.  She had grown into a fine woman, her own daughter working to learn how to run the lab for the eventual day Shuri would retire.  The three of them posed with silly strongman poses to show off the new design Shuri had made.  She not only gave him the arm that day, but also the schematics, and a manual on how to create and install them.  She said she was going to die someday, and he deserved the right to give a limb to anyone he deemed worthy.  She had never made the tech in his arm public, considering his arm’s strength far too dangerous to give to just anyone.  He had memorized it, then burned it, knowing his handlers would have eventually found it otherwise.  Shuri had died only ten years after.

He slowly made his way down the hall, allowing these memories to stay on the surface of the ocean that was his mind.  America Chaves standing triumphantly the very first time she was able to knock him on his ass, Peter Parker letting him hold his third kid the day she was born, Deadpool and him singing karaoke, and a dozen other silly little things. The hall transitioned to the dining room, and more memories jumped out at him.  Loki pretending to be a snake again to stab Thor (a joke which never got old), Morgan Stark attempting and failing to out drink him, Phil Coulson’s daughter’s wedding.  As the years went on, there were less and less of other people, and more of the Asguardians, until they left, then there was mostly just Loki.  The picture of he and Loki fishing during some down time on a mission about a year ago was hanging just by the archway to his kitchen.

He sighed.  The photo next to the one of him fishing was of Red Flare, aka, Richard.  Bucky had called him Dick, and in returned been called Asshole.  They hadn’t gotten along at first, like most of the more recent generations of Avengers.  The entire rotation of the team tended to refresh about every ten years, either through retirement or death. Admittedly, death was more common.  Like with Dick.  The Avengers tended to have a pretty low life expectancy, with the only exceptions being the few titans who were just too damn hard to kill, or impossible, in Deadpool’s case.  The rest tended to flash bright, then fade into the darkness and obscurity of that eternal slumber.  

Bucky grabbed the picture of Dick from the wall and made his way into the kitchen.  He stopped on entering, noticing a delicious smell.  On his little breakfast bar was a steaming plate filled with steak, potatoes, and Brussels sprouts.  It was a classic meal, and Loki always made fun of him for it, but it was his favorite.  It was what his parents had made him the for dinner the night before he had been shipped out to basic, and it always made him think of them.  There was a familiar golden envelope next to his plate, which he picked up as he sat down.  He put the picture of Dick down so that he could look at it as he ate, and cracked open the envelope.  The paper inside was filled with a familiar flowing script.  Bucky didn’t need to read the sign at the end to know this had Loki written all over it.  

James,

I hope you forgive me for not being there to support you during your hearing.  Again.  It is simply too barbaric to watch.  I hate that you have to sit through them, almost as much as I hate sitting through them myself.

I know you like to be alone after these trials, so I have gone to New Asgard to visit my brother.  I will tell him and Valkyrie you said hello.

I don’t feel the need to ask how it went, because I fear I already know.  Their reluctance to free you honestly makes me wonder if they even remember how to, or if they truly are just that cruel.  To be honest, if it weren’t for you, I would have lost all faith in your species some time ago.  Thor has been hounding me to come home more often, but I am hesitant to leave you with that new crop of Avengers.  They reek of incompetence.  The last one with any brains was Dick, and ever since, none of them seem to be able to put two and two together, even to realize that they are being taken advantage of.

Despite your protests, I am using my time here to look through the magical libraries.  I know you say you don’t want to waste my time, but I am quite determined to find a way to undo whatever spell Strange used to lock your chains.  Bloody arrogant sod should have left a manual behind, like Shuri did.  Instead, his carelessness left you bound to a task not of your choosing for the rest of your days.  

AND… because I am such a great friend, I have even given you something you certainly will love.  Magical armor.  It’s just like mine.  I left it in your bedroom.  Once you put it on, it and your weapon will phase into existence upon your command forever more.  I guess I should mention it is technically also a gift from Valkyrie, Thor, and the rest of Asgard, but it was mostly my idea.  And my magic.  We just wanted to make sure they don’t put you in something substandard AGAIN for some stupid budget cuts.  Now, you can always be protected, as a man of your greatness deserves.

My friend, I know this is hard, but you will be free someday.  When that day comes, you will be welcomed into your place in Asgard as the glorious warrior you are. You have long ago earned your place among the gods.  Just know that your friends know that you deserve to be in a place that understands the sacrifices you have made, and where people will appreciate you for it.  

I will be coming to see you soon,

Loki

He set the letter aside carefully after reading it through twice.  Decades ago, he would have never guessed that Loki would become his favorite extra terrestrial, now he could almost not imagine his life without him.  Loki had been with them ever since the time wars, and during that time they had grown a close friendship.  They had a surprisingly similar sense of humor, and both were loyal to a fault.  Neither of them trusted many people, but once they did, they would break mountains for them.  They both also had a similar fighting style, or at least similar in the sense that they didn’t shed tears over the deaths of their enemies.   Too many of the young ones still had guilt over the bad guys dying, while Loki and Bucky were able to find humor in the occasional delightfully ironic deaths they bestowed upon them.  Loki was Bucky’s best friend, and admittedly, also his biggest friction point with the newer Avengers.  

He looked between the letter and the photo of Dick, his brow furrowing as memories raced through his head.  He cut a large bit of his steak and brought it slowly to his mouth, taking his time to smell it before letting it dance across his taste buds.  He chewed slowly, the rare beef now qualifying easily as the second best experience of his day, just after that prosecutor.  He looked at the photo while he chewed, letting the bittersweet beauty of the memory wash over him as he ate.  As usual, every bite was glorious.  A perfect meal, spent looking at two wonderful gifts given to him by people he truly cared about and respected.  

When he finished his meal, he left his plate where it was and grabbed the letter and the photo and made his way back to the dining room.  He hung the photo back in it’s place, careful to make sure it was straight, before taking one last look at it.  It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life, and he was the only human who got to see it.  Only Loki had stood by his side as they watched Dick’s final moments as he sacrificed himself to save his planet from thousands of destroyers in space.  His power flared through the solar system, a phoenix of pure light, exploding his enemies into sparks of multicolor fire, until all they could see were the sparks of his power creating a path out into the galaxy.  Bucky hadn’t even thought about snapping the picture, he had just done it.  It had just seemed like the right thing to do.  One more photo of something beautiful on his wall.  Something which should never be forgotten.  Dick’s power had been so much more than fire tricks, it had been a true marvel and wonder of pure magic.  A purifying, unquenchable flame, directed by his very soul.  Bucky felt honored and humbled to have witnessed the full majesty of such a display, even though it was through the death of his friend.  

He had seen so many friends die over the years.  Some, like Steve and Sam, had died peaceful deaths.  He looked over to the shield still prominently displayed over his mantle as he walked by on his way through the living room to the stairs.  Sam had given Bucky the shield the same way Steve had given it to him.  Other deaths had been tragic, leaving barely a whisper that a life had even been lived.  Like Yelena.  As a spy, he only even had one picture of her.  They were at Cony Island together, eating cotton candy.  Like him, far too much of her life had been taken from her, and they had spent a good eight years dedicating as much time as possible to building new, happier memories.  They hadn’t had much free time, but they had used it very wisely.  Then, one day, she went out on a mission, only a pile of bloody rags and viscera came home.  They buried her next to her sister, Natalia.  

He remembered a conversation they had had many years ago, when he had first joined the Avengers after that clusterfuck with Sam had landed him in legal trouble.  Yelena had told him that so long as even one person remembered her for her, she didn’t mind that the world only knew the Avenger, or the spy.  Spies lived their lives in the shadows, but she wanted to live her life like her sister had.  With a friend.  He had happily become one of those friends, just as her words had become part of his soul.  Ever since her death, he had done what he could to make sure he lived, so that he could remember.  

He continued up the narrow stair and went back to his room.  Just as Loki had said, his bed displayed a very nice set of armor.  It was matte black leather, so dark it was almost hard to look at.  The leather was thick and sturdy, but still very malleable.  He had seen Loki’s armor in action enough times to know that this armor would easily stop most small arms fire, and would regenerate over time if it did take damage from something.  Instead of a ridiculous helmet, there was a hood and a mask.  It wasn’t entirely unlike his old Winter Soldier armor, but this was much higher quality.  He stripped down to his boxers and a thin black t-shirt, and began to put on his armor.  Ten minutes later, he admired himself in the mirror, moving in various ways to test the fit.  Naturally, it fit perfectly.  It was even comfortable.

He looked down to the slight bulge under the right boot where he knew his explosive device lie.  He pursed his lips, then thought about his weapons.  The bomb was certainly one, albeit one he would rather go without.  His shield was definitely something he would like to keep, though it would be nice to have it recolored so it was a little less flashy.  The rest weren’t really important.  

He shook his head at the thought.  All these years and everything he had done, all the blood he shed, and of all his prized possessions, and there were many, there wasn’t a single weapon.  No matter how many people called him a monster, a killer, and any other number of horrible things, he had never actually enjoyed killing people.  It had always just been a job, and his weapons nothing more than tools.  He had never been sentimental over any weapon, same as a carpenter had likely never cared personally for an individual nail or staple.

He smiled softly as he went to his closet to get the black leather back holster for the shield.  He buckled the straps into place, then looked at the entire ensemble in the mirror.  It was impressive.  He looked deadly, which was a good look for him.  He put on the mask and raised the hood to get the full effect.  He tilted his head and squinted.  He would need to blacken his eyes for it to look right.  Then he could really be a sneaky bastard.  Or maybe just check all the boxes on his aesthetic, as Loki had accused him of many times.  As if Loki were one to talk.

He chuckled to himself before his eyes again flickered down to the ankle bracelet.  

He regretted nothing. 

Next Chapter

Chapter List

#Bucky Barnes #Loki mention #MCU #MCU fic #mcu fanfiction #bucky deserves a hug #tired bucky #mentions of violence #depression #suicide #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #crossover #crossover fic #mcu crossover #once upon a time #once upon a time crossover #once upon a time fanfic

[lokigodofaces]

I just saw something saying Bucky might be apprehensive of like dentists and stuff like that because of the similarities between those chairs & the chair he sat in when Hydra brainwashed him. And that just is making me feel things.

#bucky barnes #deserves a thousand hugs

[luigisvampirebae]

Y'all I forgot I made this edit/wallpaper of two of my best bois

#picsart #picsart edit #wallpaper #phone background #aladdin #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #comfort characters #disney #aladdin 2019 #mena massoud #sebastian stan #sweet cinnamon rolls #aladdin needs a hug #bucky deserves to be happy #the neighbourhood #the neigbourhood lyrics #amateur editing #Spotify #no this is not a ship edit although the dynamic is pretty cute

[melles1276]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sarah Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & AJ Wilson & Cass Wilson & Sam Wilson & Sarah Wilson Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Sarah Wilson (Marvel) Additional Tags: Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Protective Sam Wilson, sam wilsons family members, Family, mission scene, Fluff, Love is in the Air, can't you feel it, First Impressions, Flirting, or something like that, Slow Burn, aren't they a cute couple, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Has a Crush, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Awesome Sarah Wilson (Marvel), post episode s1e06 (the falcon and the winter soldier) Series: Part 2 of Moments in time Summary:

Missing scenes from "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier" series ...

Post Episode 6: Bucky has an important phone call to make (sort of)

#bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #buckysarah #fanfic #tfatws fic #love is in the air #they are so cute #they are in love #bucky needs a hug #sarahbucky #sarah wilson #bucky is so silly #they are everything to me #love #he deserves the world #she deserves the world

[timdrakeapologist]

I don't care who they put Bucky with in Thunderbolts, I just want a scene of them coming back from a mission and Bucky falls asleep on their shoulder. It's the pure Bucky content I don't just want, I NEED. He deserves that kind of soft love and I don't care who it comes from

P.S it should look something like this

Or this

Or maybe even this

#bucky barnes #bucky deserved better #bucky barnes needs a hug #bucky barnes gets a hug #bonuspointsiftheyretalkingtosomeoneelsewhilehedoesandtheyjustsoftlyrubtheirfingersthroughhishair #thunderbolts #mcu #winter soldier #the winter soldier #headcanon #bucky barnes headcanon #ahhhhh

[redwing4life]

Prettier Than a Van Gogh

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

WARNINGS: Bucky struggling with self image, a frankly illegal amount of fluff

SUMMARY: You suggest painting Bucky’s back to help him see the beauty he fails to see in the mirror

WORD COUNT: 1333

“Honey, I’m home!”

Your voice rings out from the entryway of the apartment, your tone light as you use the phrase you’ve come to love. Bucky said it once when you first moved in together, unaware of its old fashioned nature; you teased him for it in the following weeks, and yet you’ve come to find it endearing - now using it each time you walk through the front door.

“Bucky?” You call out, met with silence once more. While you’re used to coming home to a quiet apartment, the lack of a usual reception of hugs and kisses is worrying.

Concern tugs at your brows as you kick off your shoes. You consider for a moment that he’s been called away on a mission - something that happens every now and then - but his boots still sit on the shoe rack and there’s no sticky note on the wall from him.

“Bucky, darling? You home?”

Spinning round the corner that leads to the open plan kitchen and living room, your frown deepens upon seeing no sign of your boyfriend; the bathroom door is open and he’s not there either. Your eyes lock on the bedroom door that sits slightly ajar before your feet carry you forward.

You knock gently on the wood and peek inside, “Love?”

Oh how your heart drops at the sight before you. The reflection of the mirror Bucky is stood in front of shows you the shame etched across his features. He’s wearing the dark blue and green plaid pyjama bottoms you got him for Christmas with no shirt on.

You’ve found him like this before, him staring with disgust at the scars littered across his torso, but mainly his shoulder. It’s like a knife to the stomach every time you see him with that look in his eyes; if only he saw himself the way you do.

Feet pattering against the hardwood floor, you approach Bucky with eyes trained on his - though he’s yet to glance at you.

“I thought we agreed you didn’t have to do this to yourself anymore, sweetheart” You say, voice quiet and dripping with love. Coming to a halt behind him, you drag your fingers up and down his toned back a couple times before stretching them around his waist.

Bucky’s skin tingles at the warmth of your hands, now flat against his stomach. “I don’t know how to stop” His lips twist into a grimace.

“Then we’ll learn how to.” You reply, slowly stroking the skin beneath his belly button. “Cause you deserve to see yourself the way I do”

You almost gasp when Bucky finally meets your eyes through the mirror, wondering if you’ll ever get used to his beauty.

“Do I?” He asks with a frown.

“Oh, honey,” You press a kiss to his shoulder blade, “you deserve that and so much more.”

His lips turn up slightly and you revel in the way his body responds to you. Your right hand reaches out to grab his vibranium one, raising them up with your palms flat against each other. Still stood behind him, your fingers intertwine while your eyes never leave each others.

You continue, “You may not see that yet, but i’ll spend every minute of our lives teaching you to see it too”

He spins in your arms while still holding your hand and rests his flesh one on your hip. Naturally, you start swaying from side to side, dancing to the hustle and bustle of the street outside. You find yourself thinking of ways to help him while your head rests on his chest.

“Hey, Buck?” You mumble against his chest.

“Yes, doll?”

“I have an idea”

Bucky was skeptical of your plan at first, but your big smile and excited bouncing on the spot won him over. Not that it takes much persuasion when it comes to you.

So now he finds himself lying on his stomach on your bed while you straddle his back, slowly sketching out a drawing on his back.

“Can I at least get a vague idea as to what you’re gonna paint on my back, sweets?”

You giggle to yourself quietly, “Nope.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but can’t hold back a grin. You’re being very secretive as to what you’re planning; you said you want him to just enjoy relaxing for now.

“Okay, you ready?” You ask, dipping a brush into the paint on your palette.

“Yes, ma’am”

When the brush makes contact with the small of Bucky’s back, his back tenses at the unusual sensation. “Fuck, doll, it’s cold” His voice is muffled with the pillow beneath his chin.

You mutter an apology, gently running your hand up and down his side comfortingly, trying to counter the cool brush with your warm hands. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” He replies quickly, “keep going”

So you do. You spend nearly an hour swirling paint over your boyfriend’s back, incorporating his scars into your design. Blues and yellows blend together to form a version of Van Gogh’s starry night, curving round his vibranium shoulder and down to the middle of his back.

Bucky stopped fighting the fatigue that was tugging at him, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. He’s slept peacefully for the last twenty minutes to the bizarrely satisfying feeling of being painted; a content smile has graced your lips ever since he fell asleep, happy to see him so comfortable in your presence.

You never take for granted how Bucky lets his guard down around you. You may not be able to control his feelings toward himself, but you can certainly give him every reason to trust you.

The painting is nearly finished as the super soldier stirs beneath you, a sigh falling from his lips.

“How’s it going, doll?” He asks, trying to turn and look at your work only to have his eyes covered.

“No looking! I’m nearly done” You squeak, desperate to keep it as a surprise. “Just a couple minutes and you can see it”

Bucky hums in response, returning his attention to the movie playing on the tv.

Finally finishing up with some detailed strokes, you drop the brush in the water jar and tidy up. When everything is cleared, you help Bucky to stand up without smudging your work, leading him back to the mirror you found him in front of only a few hours ago. Your hands rest on his hips, drawing circles on his skin without even realising you’re doing it.

“Okay, if you don’t like it we can wash-“

“I already love it, y/n. You could’ve painted a rotten apple and i’d wear it for a week if I could” He interrupts you. You can’t help but admire him right now, a soft expression on his face.

“Okay, you can look”

Silence falls upon the room as Bucky turns to face you and plants a quick kiss on your forehead before looking over his shoulder.

“My god, sweets”

“Is that a good ‘My god’ or a bad ‘My god’?”

He can’t tear his eyes away from his body for the first time since the 40s. “It’s beautiful, y/n. I-“ Words fail him and you swear you see a tear in his eye.

“That’s how I see you, Buck.” You say. “You take my breath away every time I see you. Your scars are part of you, so I love them too”

He turns back to you and holds your face in his hands, “I love you so much, doll. You’re so damn talented, and to have you use it for me- it makes me wonder what I did to deserve you”

You raise your hands to cover his. “You deserve the world, my love. More than I could ever give you”

“Well,” Bucky grins and rests his forehead on yours, “lucky for you, you’re all I want”

AUTHOR’S NOTE: eeee my first fic, please like and reblog if you enjoyed - maybe give me a follow toooo ;)

#bucky barnes #bucky fluff #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #buckybarnesbirthday #buckysbirthday #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky barns x y/n #sebastian stan

[vigilante-3073]

Apology Flowers

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky buys you flowers.

TW: Fluff, nervous Bucky, pre-established relationship, lovesick Bucky.

Bucky stood in front of the flower stand, bright blue eyes running over all the colorful options. He knew that every flower had meaning, but seeing the sheer variety had him lost.

"Can I help you find something, Sir?" The elderly salesperson asked.

Bucky sighed, "Yeah, I could definitely use some help. I'm looking to buy flowers for my girl, but I'm feeling a little lost," He confessed with a small smile.

"Well, what's her favorite color, dear?" The woman asked.

"She really likes pink," Bucky said.

"Then we have a place to start. Is there a special occasion at all?" She asked.

"No, not really. I had to go out of town for a few days on short notice and didn't get to say goodbye before I left," Bucky said.

It wasn't necessarily a lie, he did have to leave town on short notice. The poor woman didn't need to know that he had been traveling the world with Sam Wilson to stop a terrorist group.

"That's very sweet, there's not many men like you around anymore," She mused, scanning the options.

"Don't I know it," Bucky muttered.

"Ah," She said suddenly, locating what she had been looking for.

The woman gathered multiple pink and white flowers together, tilting the top of the assorted bouquet towards Bucky.

"How's that, dear?" She asked, Bucky smiled.

"It's perfect," He said.

....

Bucky made his way down the hallway towards the small apartment that he shared with Y/N.

He took a deep breath as he tucked a hand into his pocket to pull out his keys.

She would be pissed and he knew that he deserved it. Bucky had practically disappeared, no calls or texts to explain anything.

He had only sent one: 'With Sam. Be home soon'

Then his phone died. And that was a few days ago.

Bucky slid his key into the lock before opening the door and stepping into the apartment.

"Doll, you home?" He called.

Y/N appeared around the corner quickly, rushing over to meet him.

"Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick," She said, pressing herself against his chest as she hugged him tightly.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her, careful not to crush the bouquet.

He felt like he could finally relax for the first time in days. Bucky hadn't realized how much he missed her until she was in his arms again.

"I'm so sorry, doll. Sam and I got caught up in something big and I couldn't just leave him," Bucky said.

She pulled away, cupping his cheeks and inspecting the bruises and cuts littering his skin. He had hoped they would heal more before seeing her again.

"I'm gonna kill him," Y/N muttered.

"I'm okay," Bucky assured, thumb brushing across her hip gently.

Her shoulders relaxed as she exhaled, "Bucky, what happened? Why didn't you call me?" She asked.

"My phone died," Bucky stated.

She huffed, "You are so lucky that I love you as much as I do," Y/N said.

"I brought you flowers... I know it doesn't make up for what I did, but I'm really sorry" He said, holding the bouquet up for her to see.

She took the bundle from his hand, smiling softly as she sniffed the petals, "Thank you, Bucky," Y/N said.

She rose up onto her toes, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

Bucky leaned forward, chasing her lips as she pulled away. He slid his arms around her waist, "Kiss me like you missed me?" He asked.

Y/N's smile widened, hand resting on the side of his neck with her thumb resting along the curve of his jaw as she brought his lips to her's.

Bucky moved his lips against her's, his hands sliding under the material of her t-shirt to rest against her bare skin.

Bucky thanked his lucky stars for whatever he had done right in his life to deserve someone as amazing as her.

He hoped that the small velvet ring box hidden away in the back of his drawer would show just how much he loved her, but that's a story for another time.

Y/N pulled away, "I need to put these flowers in some water. Why don't you hop in the shower and I will meet you there?" She proposed.

"I love you so damn much," He mumbled.

"I love you too. Now go before I change my mind," She smiled.

Bucky pressed another quick kiss to her lips before he released her, making his way down the hallway in the direction of their bedroom.

Bucky Barnes loved his woman.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #falcon and the winter soldier #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes

[kurogxrix]

Passionfruit

Mob!Bucky Barnes x Wife!reader

IN WHICH you spend a well deserved lazy day with your mafia husband and son… plus Bucky getting a little handsy.

Warnings: suggestive, breastfeeding, allusions to smut.

A/N: after nearly 2 whole months of not posting…IM BAAAACK😋 albeit this isn’t anything big, it’s still something considering the massive writers block i’ve been facing😭.

The mafia life wasn’t exactly what you had expected when you’d gotten affiliated with Bucky. 

On TV, it was gruesome, it was dark, it was scary - and not to forget, it was all the more sexy. Except as of right now, you could’ve concluded that it wasn’t necessarily always that way. There was nothing gruesome and scary in the way your husband was laying his head submissively on your chest as he slept the lazy morning away, his metallic arm thrown protectively over your stomach. 

There was nothing dark about the way your baby’s colourful crib laid by the end of your shared bed, a request from the infamous Bucky himself as he claimed that his lifestyle was far too dangerous to have the baby sleeping in his own room for now. In fact he was nothing but a liar, and a softie, because even the people who reside out of state know of the many guards that pass their nights with open eyes to guard the Barnes mansion. 

For all, there was nothing sexy with the way you were spread out ungraciously upon the huge bed. As much as you could with the huge man that laid heavily upon your chest, you spread out your limbs for the comfort of it all. Your hair was a mess upon the silky material of your pillow, a face clean of any makeup twisting with grogginess. There was anything but sexiness with the way your cotton panties hugged your hips comfortably, an even less-sexy pattern adorning the soft fabric. 

The natural warmth of Bucky’s body seeped through the thin fabric of the shirt that you’d stolen from him, and it made you want to dig yourself impossibly further into him. It wasn’t long before the early morning sun rays began shining through the cracks of the expensive curtains, interrupting your little moment of staring at your husband’s fine features. He looked so cute like this, face free of any worries as he slept cosily on your chest. 

The feeling of his grip tightening around your waist was more than enough to alert you that your ‘scary’ husband had just woken up, and the kisses that he was planting across your collarbones were more of an indication. There was no need for any words as you both laid in silence, your hands intertwining in the bush of brown hair that laid atop his head. Oh and how much you loved those curls, the way they’d drip with excess water as he came fresh from a warm shower, or the way your fingers would pull at them mercilessly as his face laid buried in between your thighs- 

Bucky’s hand began exploring despite the early hour, and the silent state of the room. His vibranium hand caressed your clothed side before slipping under the hem of your shirt. You flinched at the freezing feeling of his cold fingers upon your warm skin, but the way his thumb was rubbing loving circles into your skin was enough to send warmth spiralling back into your body. You felt your chest vibrating curtly as Bucky chuckled at the way you flinched under his freezing touch, and you playfully slapped at the back of his head, your own quiet laughter rebounding across the closed walls of your shared room. 

Your laughter was quick to cease as you felt Bucky’s fingers slip smoothly beyond the elastic band of your cotton panties, the feeling of his cool fingers making your shiver this time. You had to force your bottom lip by biting harshly down onto it to stop yourself from making noise, because god forbid you accidently awakened the little monster sleeping at the end of your bed.

He teased, and the smirk that laid upon his face told you so. The calloused fingertips beyond your waistline did nothing but rub senseless circles into the skin, not using those skilled fingers in the way you wanted him to. 

“Stop teasing already, it’s way too early for that.” 

you grumbled, and the chuckle that escaped your husband once more felt shaky upon your chest. You nearly let out a pathetic whine as you felt his large fingers retracing their steps back out, the elastic band of your panties snapping against your skin in dismay. However, it was a whole other story when you felt Bucky moving to sit up, a large hand resting upon your waist as he ushered you up to join him. His necklace clanged against his torso as he did so, the white wolf pendant sitting comfortably with the new position on his chest. 

With no hesitation, you did so, and his hands immediately started roaming your body once more as he laid them upon your delicate skin. Your face was buried in his neck as you sat up properly in his lap, thick and muscular thighs serving you as a seat. You closed your eyes as you felt his hand slipping under your shirt, head thrown back in bliss as his lips found the crevice of your neck. 

It felt almost too good to be true. A little moment shared between the both of you in perfect silence on a day filled with nothing more but slumber and laziness. Bucky felt like he was dreaming, almost like this late morning was going all too fine, and that in a normal scenario there should be something just about the moment that came to ruin the- 

Jinxed it, and if only you could read your husband's thoughts, Bucky knew that you’d make him sleep with the strays outside tonight. It was nothing else but his fault for the sudden shrill cries that resonated round the entire room. You felt your husband’s lips suddenly detaching from your neck, the area darkening by the second thanks to his skilled mouth. 

You had to physically retain yourself from laughing at your husband’s uttered ‘fuck’s sake’ in all the disappointment of your baby’s sudden awakening. Successfully ruining the little moment that you shared. Or that you were about to share, it was like much had had the time to happen anyway. 

“You’re gonna go say goodmorning to your son?” you tease, throwing your arms around Bucky’s neck as you stared into his blue iris. He glared at you for a second before his gaze softened, and he fell into the satirical state that you found yourself in.

“Absolutely no way malyshka, you know I had to tend to his tantrum yesterday while you were sleeping your ass off in the comfort of our mattress.” he laughed off in all playfulness, his hands tightening their grip around your waist as he spoke. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel offended, because who was he kidding? You knew that Bucky would treat your son’s undying tantrums forever if it meant that you’d catch a little extra sleep. He’d do anything for the both of you, the two people who’d changed his life forever. 

The screams only got louder by the second, a stark reminder to break off your little romantic moment with Bucky and go tend to that little monster. Unhooking your limbs from Bucky’s, the brunette watched attentively as you made your way towards the maple crib. Just the best for your baby, even if he was far too young to comprehend the quality of the life that was being given to him. 

You waste no time diving for your son, a tiny human that fits perfectly in your arms. Enamoured as he already was, Bucky watched as all it took from you was a couple of coos and a few seconds of swaying the both of you from side to side to calm your wailing son down. Truly a momma’s boy, just like his father. 

Tiny fists closed in on the collar of your shirt with an incredible force that had everybody wondering where babies get it from, a desperate attempt from Lev at pulling your shirt down. The sight sent both you and your heavily tattooed husband in a deep laughter, but you’re soon interrupted by crying yet again. Another trait that he shared with his father, impatience and the urge to have everything he pleads. 

There was a moment of silence as Bucky’s eyes laid straight on you, and the love that swarmed his pupils was not new. He often wondered late at night what he’d done in his previous life to deserve such love that you and your son provide to him, because he knew that the Bucky of this life didn’t deserve it. He was a killer, ruthless at that because his line of work allowed no mercy. His hands were covered in thick layers of blood and yet you take them in yours like they needed guidance. Maybe, he wished that in another life he could be doing good in any sorts of way, like that stupid dream he had as a kid to become a superhero. 

Amidst his little love trance, Bucky failed to realise that you along with your baby had left the room. The soft noises of water running was a quick indication of where you’d both escaped to, and he took no time with the rush. He brushed past the sheets that clung at his legs, the messy bed an indicator of what went down under the sheets the night prior after your baby had been peacefully engulfed by slumber. 

Bucky was a big man by any means, and the heavy footsteps that hurried behind him resounded throughout the entire room. Not to be fooled although, he could be all sneaky and silent when he wanted to, a true man of many skills.

The pristine white marble greeted him first, a shine he’d grown to love. There by the sink was you and the little lev, except he was far too entranced in finishing up the contents of your breasts to even bat an eye at his father. His free hand clung at your sleeve tightly as if to not lose balance. You moved in all your motherly gracefulness, holding your baby above your left breast in your left arm so you could successfully lean to your right to rinse your mouth after a quick brush. 

Bucky knew that you didn’t need any help, he’d witnessed the woman phenomenon of the one-hand-everything. His own eyes had seen far too many times as you held your baby, keys, a thermos and phone all in one hand while going on with your day with the other. Yet, who was he to watch his wife vie when he had two free hands in his availability.  

The feeling of his brawny arms wrapping around your waist relit the warmth that you felt everytime he would do so, and you couldn’t help but lean back into his chest. The tall brunette planted a soft kiss onto the top of your head before moving to his own sink, but not before opening the tub of moisturizer for you, your skincare routine retained in the back of his mind. 

You smiled gently at him as a silent thanks, no need for any affirmation when he already knew that you loved him beyond your own ability to. Your baby finished his greedy assault on your chest a few seconds after you’d finished applying your entire routine, and you were sort of glad when Lev squirmed out of your embrace and onto the tiled floor. 

Any plans that you had for the day, albeit being only to go to the kitchen to fetch some food, had been completely forgotten as you felt Bucky’s arms dragging you back towards the unkempt bed. Because yet again, no lazy day was complete without laying in bed for 7 hours just staring at the ceiling. 

-

not much again but i hoped you all enjoyed🫀 also for writers (or anybody)looking for moots, please don’t be scared to text me lol😭

#bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x wife!reader #bucky x reader #husband!bucky #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #I NEED SLEEP #cant do this nomore #text me yall i dont bite

[purple-babygirl]

don't call me daddy IV

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 5,540

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: crying, a flu, coughing, shots, age regression

A/N: forgive me for the lateness with this one. i was very sick, like bed-ridden sick, and when i got a little better i got to writing right away. please be kind to me with this one, i'm still high on meds:" please enjoy xx💜💜

~

“Call me daddy.”

“What?” She was suddenly pulling away as if Bucky was made up of scorching metal.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” He asked with a small smile, wiping any residue tears on his face.

What she wanted… he was only suggesting that she called him daddy because he thought it was what she wanted? Was this his way of returning the favor because she hugged him after a nightmare?

Now she was really hurt.

Bucky was unknowingly emphasizing the fact that he didn’t want this type of relationship, didn’t want her. He was only doing it to show gratitude.

“No.” She shook her head, getting up from the floor.

“No?” Bucky was genuinely confused as he followed her with his eyes.

He thought he was finally making things right, giving her what she wanted.

“I wanna go back.”

“What?!”

“I wanna go back, please take me back.” Her voice wasn’t even sad or frantic, only small and disheartened.

“Back where?! The couch is right there if you wanna go!” Bucky became angry again.

He felt rejected and he felt small. Was it his touch that made her pull back? Was it the daddy thing? Was he so repulsive?

“No, back, out of here.”

“Back where?! It’s the middle of the night!” Bucky raised his voice in frustration, the nightmare nerves barely out of his body.

Has she lost her mind? Why was she acting like this now? What was he supposed to do to please her and her little mind?

“Take me back to Mrs. Morrison,” she insisted calmly as she collected her slippers and stashed them back in her bag.

He looked at her with wide eyes and an open mouth, not getting what happened or where he went wrong.

She wasn’t even tearing up, it was like a switch has flipped inside of her.

“Just— just talk to me, okay? What happened?” Bucky fervently needed her to stop, needed to understand.

“Bucky was right. This isn’t gonna work. Please just take me back.”

Her words reopened Bucky’s wounds that her sweet gestures had once closed. What did she mean “isn’t gonna work”? Was he just deemed irredeemable? Again?

“But why?!”

“I just wanna go back.” Was all she gave him; no explanation and no reasons.

Bucky wouldn’t understand.

“You know what? Fine! I’ll take you back first thing in the morning. Go back to the fucking couch, stay away from me!”

She silently got the wolf stuffie, leaving it on the kitchen counter, and went back, no crying and no trials to correct him on his choice of bad words.

Did she really want to leave? Was she really going to leave him come morning?

~

When it was lit up enough, Bucky went for a run, trying to blow off some steam because he felt like he was about to explode.

Why did he let her in? He shouldn’t have done that. She didn’t deserve to get this close, no one did.

Did he seriously think he was accepted and understood by this stranger after 7 days of time together?

No matter what the purpose she was serving was, she could never understand how hard Bucky had had it.

Still, something kept pulling him to her. Something inside of him didn’t want her to leave him. Not now that he was used to her; that he wanted to be used to her.

It's been only a week and Bucky was ready to give human relationships another chance. She made him feel like healing wasn’t a faraway dream.

He was going to try and talk to her one last time and if she still wanted to leave, he would gladly let her.

When he opened his door, she was dressed and waiting for Bucky on the couch, ready to go.

“So you were serious about leaving?” Bucky asks as he kicks his shoes off.

“Yes. Bucky is gonna take me back, right?”

“If that’s really what you want?”

She didn’t trust her voice so she just nodded.

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“Talk to me like I’m talking to you!” Bucky snapped.

She remained silent this time, not ready for a fight.

“Why do you wanna leave? What did I do?”

“Bucky didn’t do anything.”

“Then what is it?!”

“That is it.”

“What?!”

“Bucky didn’t do anything. Bucky didn’t even look at Doll’s file. Bucky never even called Doll Doll.” Only now did her tears come back, rolling down her cheeks with ease as she spilled out all that she’s been holding inside of her, “Bucky never wanted Doll.”

“I— I didn’t have time to look at the file. We were in a hurry so I picked the first one in the batch!” Bucky tried to explain, but quickly realized what he'd said.

A sob escaped her at the revelation that she was picked at random, that it could’ve been anyone else and that he really never wanted her.

“That’s not what I meant. I— listen, at first maybe I didn’t want you, but it’s different now!”

“Bucky never even picked me?” She cried, her broken voice crushing his heart.

“I—”

“Please take me back.” She wiped at her face, trying to steady her breathing.

“But—”

“Please, Bucky, please.”

The way she begged him with teary eyes and a shaky voice made Bucky stand up despite himself to put his shoes back on to take her back.

He might’ve not gotten a chance to explain himself, but he’s done her enough damage and he wasn’t going to continue being the reason she cried when she has been the reason he stopped.

“Let’s go.” Bucky pursed his lips and opened the door for her, her bag in hand, knowing it will never be the same when he came back.

~

“Doll, now that you’re big at least tell me anything, dear. Did he do anything—”

“He didn’t do anything, Mrs. Morrison. I promise you. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman with me.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I just think I wasn’t ready. I shouldn’t have listed my little self as ready.” She shook her head with a polite smile.

Mrs. Morrison wasn’t buying it, but she couldn’t push her anymore.

“Alright, dear. I’ll go finish the report so Bucky’s therapist can get her copy in the morning.”

“Mrs. Morrison, please,” she held the older woman’s hand imploringly, “Bucky didn’t do but good. Make sure you’re just to him in your report.”

“Okay, doll. Whatever you say, dear.” She woman shook her head, giving up the argument before standing up and leaving the room.

It wasn’t the full truth, but she did believe she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t going to be ready for a long time, so it was better if she just went back home and let herself be grounded a little.

~

“Please, I need to see her.” Bucky begged in front of Mrs. Morrison’s desk.

“Not before you tell me what you did to her, Mr. Barnes!”

“I— I didn’t do anything.”

“That’s what she said too, but I know it’s not the truth!”

“Wait, what? I— please let me see her.”

“She’s not here, Sergeant Barnes.”

“What? Where is she?”

“Home,” the woman replied shortly, still mad at Bucky.

“I thought that was where they lived?”

The woman shook her head in disappointment, “you never read your copy of the file, did you?”

Bucky remained silent, too embarrassed to speak. Why did everyone keep asking about the damn file!

“No, they don’t live here. She went back to her life at her house.”

“Well, can you give me the address?”

“Of course, not! That’s private information and you two don’t even seem to have ended on good terms!”

“Please? I need to fix this.”

“You already had time to do that, Mr. Barnes.”

“Well… At least give me a chance to apologize.”

“I don’t know.” The woman hesitated.

“Please, I’ll do anything.” Bucky begged sincerely.

“Anything?” Mrs. Morrison smiled suddenly, making Bucky worry a little, but he meant his words nonetheless.

“Anything.”

~

“Corgi, calm down!” Bucky heard her sweet laugh as she approached the dog’s barks.

“You call your corgi Corgi?” He asked her with a smile.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” Her smile quickly disappeared and a surprised frown replaced it.

“I—”

“Okay, I finished moving the new planters to the right side like you wanted— hello?” The man who cut Bucky off was offering him a hand.

Bucky shook it coldly, his signature frown staring the man down, “hey.”

“I’m Adam,” the man said with a friendly smile.

“Sergeant James Barnes.”

“Bucky, this is Adam, my best friend and neighbor, Adam, this is Bucky… a friend.” She introduced them, not sure of what to say about Bucky.

Meanwhile, Bucky felt something weigh down on him. Was it the fact that he wished she said more than just “a friend”? Was it the presence of this Adam guy? Was that… jealousy?!

“Right, so I’m gonna go now, but call me if you need anything, okay?” Adam said, looking at them both suspiciously.

“I will. Thank you for today, Adam. You’re the best.” She gave the man a hug, smiling from ear to ear as she did it, too.

That was a smile Bucky has never seen.

“I know I know. Bye, Corgi! Bye, Sergeant, nice to meet you!” Adam shouted as he walked out of her porch.

Bucky only nodded even though he knew the man couldn’t see him. He didn’t care if he was rude. Who was that anyway?

She was expecting Bucky to talk when Adam was gone but he just stood there, fiddling with the bag in his hand as he stared at her, so she didn’t say anything either.

She was done initiating. If he came all the way here on his own, he could start a conversation on his own.

“Who was that?”

“Really? You came all the way here to ask me that?”

He stuttered and swallowed, knowing fully well that he had no right to such a question.

“You seem different.”

“You mean big?” She smiled sadly, noticing how much more comfortable Bucky was dealing with her like that.

Bucky nodded guiltily, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, I do have a life and responsibilities after all.” She shrugged, gesturing to her house and the puppy by her feet.

She was disappointed to say the least. First, he gave her a terrible week with him, then he returned her and never looked back and now he was on her porch for no clear reason or explanation, questioning her and her life?

Still, she felt a spark of hope in her chest at the fact that he was standing before her. There must’ve been a reason he came and it couldn’t be so he could fight more.

Bucky felt embarrassed, tongue-tied with guilt as he’s forgotten everything he has been wanting to say.

Then the sky started speaking for him, thundering loudly and making her jump with a hand on her heart.

“Oh, it’s gonna rain. Let’s go inside.”

For some reason, he assumed she was talking to the puppy but when she kept looking at him, Bucky gratefully moved his feet.

~

Her house was the epitome of coziness. It was a true home and it was nothing like Bucky’s.

It had actual furniture, colorful pieces he knew were carefully picked. It had wallpaper and picture frames and kitchenware and cute mugs and plates.

Only now did he know how much shit she could’ve given him for the place he made her stay in, but she didn’t.

“Bucky!”

“Yes?”

“I asked about your favorite tea.” She smiled, motioning to a number of varieties on her shelves.

“A coffee would be fine.”

“I’ll just make you earl grey with me.” She shrugged, ignoring his choice for a coffee at this relatively late hour of the evening.

“Hey!”

“It’s my house, my rules, old man!”

Wow! Big her was kind of feisty and it was making Bucky smile.

“What do you have there?” She asked, looking at the small plastic bag that Bucky’s been carrying in his hand.

“Oh, I- this is for you.” He handed her the bag, cheeks burning as he was still brand new when it came to such gestures.

“Oreos! And wolfie!” She called out happily when she looked inside the bag, “thank you so much!” She squeezed the tips of his fingers, smiling at him like he’d gotten her a rare diamond.

When she let go of his hand to open the package and taste the cookies, Bucky felt fear settle in his chest at the idea of having lost her forever.

He watched her try to hide the hug she was giving the white stuffed wolf before slipping it to her curious dog, “careful, Corgi.”

She didn’t lecture or blame him about his treatment of her, yes, nor did she even bring up the week she stayed at his house, but would she be willing to forgive him? Would she give him another chance?

Instead of screaming at him, she was sitting him down on a comfortable couch that had a soft blanket draped over it and serving him tea and cake. What kind of angel was she?

“If you don’t like it, I’ll make you coffee. But taste it first,” she set the tray with tea cups and a plate with a couple of cake slices on the little wooden coffee table and Bucky knew the smell of this tray was the only thing missing from her living room.

Now it was all perfect. It suited her so well.

“I made lime key cake this morning so you’re in luck. It goes really well with earl grey,” she told him, trying to get him to talk, to tell her why he was at her place a week later at 9 in the evening.

But he only nodded.

She didn’t push him. She has done enough coaxing and enough pushing. She didn’t have to do that anymore. If Bucky wanted to talk, he would have to talk on his own.

But he didn’t.

An hour later, she was getting sleepy and the rain was pouring even harder.

“I— I better go.” He stood up, patting his pockets nervously as if to make sure his belongings were in place.

So he came all the way here for nothing? He found her house and rode on his motorcycle all the way here for nothing?

“No way, you can’t drive your motor cycle in this rain!”

“I’m a super soldier, I don’t get sick,” Bucky argued with a smile, heart swelling at the idea that she still cared for him.

“I don’t care. The roads are slippery. It’s dangerous!”

“But—”

“No buts. You can have my bed, let me show you the room,” she said, never giving him space for a reply as she led the way to her bedroom.

“You really don’t have to. I can take the couch.” Or the floor

“The couch is mine. Corgi cries at night and doesn’t like to sleep alone. He’s still just a puppy.”

“Why don’t you just move his crate to your bedroom?”

“Because there’s a system in this house, Sergeant. We’re disciplined people.” She smiled playfully, “good night.”

And just like that, Bucky was alone in her bedroom, with her bed and sheets and blankets, where all the pillows smelled like her hair shampoo and the air was light and sweet. He was in heaven.

Bucky took his jacket off, draping it over the armchair by her vanity and her perfumes caught his eye.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t help himself as he picked up the first bottle and neared it to his nose.

Oh, lord, was this sexy. He imagined himself eating her up if he was to smell this perfume on her skin. It was captivating and it went well with her playful grown up personality.

He tried another bottle and it was a softer scent that he knew all too well. It was the one she wore when she was staying at his house. It smelt angelic, soft and welcoming.

Bucky had to stop himself from going down the line of perfumes because he didn’t think he could keep going.

He’d better go to bed and try to catch a few hours of sleep before the mind attacks started.

Grabbing a pillow that smelled like her, Bucky made himself as comfortable as could be on the wooden floor next to her bed, draping her overly soft blanket on his body.

~

“You call it a disciplined house but you don’t even have a dining table,” Bucky teased as he helped her bring the rest of the plates to the coffee table.

He was right actually. She lied last night. She could easily take Corgi to the bedroom with her, but what kind of hospitality would that be to give Bucky the couch when it was his first time visiting?

“At least my coffee table has space for more than 2 noodle cups,” she teased right back, hardly biting a smile.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her sassiness, smiling like an idiot at how easy she made everything.

Talking was easy around her. Existing was easy around her. Breathing was easy around her. And oh did he miss her.

“So…” she trailed, pouring orange juice in Bucky’s glass.

She couldn’t stay silent anymore. She had to understand why Bucky found her house and came to her after he’d clearly proven he didn’t want her. She wanted and tried to be the bigger person, but if he had something to say, she was ready to hear it now.

“I— I came here to say I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said the words that have been sitting on the back of his tongue for so long.

“Bucky…” she locked her eyes with his for a second, unable to read him, “you didn’t have to come all the way here. I didn’t tell Mrs. Morrison anything.”

The way she reassured him broke his heart. It was as if she wholeheartedly believed that all Bucky cared about was the final report.

But he cared about so much more. He cared about fixing this. He cared about her.

“I know. I did.”

“What?!”

“I told her everything.”

“Bucky— why?”

“I had to make it right.”

“Well, what did she say?” she chewed her lower lip nervously, worried everything has been ruined for Bucky.

“She made me serve a few hours at the institution and only when she got everyone’s approval did she agree to give me your address.”

“Everyone’s approval of what?” she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Of my storytelling skills,” Bucky replied proudly, putting some cheese on her plate for her when he noticed her freeze.

“Your storytelling— what?!” she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, a huge smile breaking on her face.

“I spent a few nights reading bedtime stories to the residents there and I’ll have you know I did a pretty good job, though most of them wanted lullabies so I stole some of yours—”

“Hold on! You, Bucky Barnes, read bedtime stories and sang lullabies to littles at the institution?”

“Yes, I did.” Bucky nodded with a shrug.

“You did all of this so you could have my address?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I missed you, doll.”

“Doll?” Her eyes instantly teared up at the sole use of the name coming from him.

“And to tell you that I got to meet everyone that was available at the same time you were and none of them could ever compare. They’re all amazing people, but none of them made me feel like you’ve made me feel in that short week,” Bucky admitted softly, eyes hesitant to leave his fingers.

“I was terrible to you and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m sorry. I know now that I should’ve been better.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” she said with a content smile, simply satisfied with his presence as she passed him the bread. That apology was genuinely enough for her.

“No, doll, it’s not. I— I did the opposite of everything a caregiver should’ve done. It's just… you made me nervous, scared.” Bucky admitted.

“I scared you?” she scoffed in surprise. She wasn’t expecting this one.

“Yes. The way you were fully yourself, the way you weren’t afraid to show it, the way you did the effort to relieve yourself of whatever you were suffering from, it all scared me. How you openly cried when you needed to. It scared me because I didn’t know how to be like you. I didn’t know how to choose trust and kindness again after everything that had happened to me. Your courage scared me.”

“Oh, Bucky.” Tears rolled down her face as she desperately felt the need to hold him and kiss every inch of him better, “why didn’t you talk to me? I would’ve understood.”

“I tried… that day… but talking about it made me wanna close up on myself even more. It made me more scared. It wasn’t easy. It isn’t easy. And I can’t help it,” Bucky’s voice trembled as he fought his own tears.

He couldn’t believe he said those words out loud to someone else.

She left her seat and went to sit next to Bucky on the couch, her hands finding his and holding onto them for dear life.

“But when I came home to an empty living room after dropping you off at the institution, I knew what I'd lost. I realized what an asshole I’ve been to you. And I missed you. I missed you so much when I closed the door and you weren’t on the couch looking at me,” he poured his heart out to her with tears in his eyes.

She squeezed his hand more, trying to hug his fingers with hers but they were too short to fully cover his hands.

“You don’t have to give me another chance, but I felt like I could’ve died if I didn’t tell you how sorry I was and am. I’m sorry I didn’t give myself time to understand you and appreciate you for everything that you were, doll. I’m sorry I was so stupid and let you slip away from my hands. I’m sorry I was undeserving of your kindness and softness and love,” Bucky told her with tears pouring down his face, matching hers as she finally got to listen to all that he had to say.

“I really am sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to be a good daddy to you and I’m sorry I didn’t try to learn. It’s all my fault because you, doll, deserve someone who would bust their ass trying for you,” Bucky sighed, “but if you’d let me, I’ll spend as much time as you’ll allow me doing that.”

“Thank you for finding me.” She threw herself in his arms and Bucky felt his soul come back to him as he held her tight to his body.

“Thank you for welcoming me back in despite everything I’ve put you through. I know I don’t deserve it.” Bucky squeezed her closer, the smell of her hair calming his senses.

“You’re welcome.” She pulled back to wipe his tears away, giving him a smile prettier than anything he’s ever seen, “now let’s eat before the eggs go cold.” She wiped her eyes quickly before grabbing the spoon and putting some eggs on Bucky’s plate.

“Does that smile mean you forgive me, doll?” Bucky asked hopefully.

“I forgive you, Sarge.” She smiled at him, what was in her heart showing in her eyes.

“You won’t regret it,” he promised, putting some food in his mouth to stop any upcoming tears.

They ate silently in peace for a second before Bucky spoke out.

“Seriously though, who was that Adam guy?!”

“Way to ruin a moment, Bucky,” she teased.

But Bucky didn’t smile. He remained silent waiting for her answer with a tiny frown.

“I told you he’s my best friend and he lives next door.”

 Bucky’s frown deepened slightly. So that man got to see her every day huh?

“With his wife,” she added, biting back a smile as she watched his face relax.

“Don’t toy with me like that, doll.”

“I couldn’t help it. This is all new to me and I’m having fun!”

“Does he come here a lot?”

“Yes, Bucky. It’s what friends do, they visit,” she laughed.

“I don’t see Sam that often and we’re fine,” he shrugged unconvincingly, making her laugh more.

“He’s a good man, you’ll come to like him. Plus, he helped me a lot those past weeks and took care of my garden and Corgi while I was away so I owe him.”

“So I’m seeing a farmer now?” Bucky teased.

“Oh look who’s not so quiet anymore!” she teased back with a giggle, “at least my fridge never runs out of tomatoes.”

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky asked, his face serious again.

She nodded in reply, a smile gracing her patient features.

“Why did it bother you so much when I told you to call me daddy?”

She hummed, letting go of her fork.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna answ—”

“It made me feel like you were returning a favor. Doing something because you felt like you had to do it, like it was the right thing to do, but not because you really wanted it. Yes, I wanted to call you daddy with my whole heart, but only if you wanted it too. It hurt because at the time I knew you still hadn’t accepted me for who I was and was just saying that so you could repay me for the hug I was giving you.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bucky shock his head in remorse, “I will never understand how you managed to put up with me for a whole week.”

“It’s because I know what it’s like to feel unwanted, Bucky. I know what it feels like to be unloved and unaccepted, especially by those who should give you unconditional love.”

“Family?” Bucky asked with a sad smile.

She nodded with a similar smile, “I know what it’s like to be more than your pain and anger with others only seeing the snapping and frowning. Little me doesn’t want anyone else to feel unloved like that because she knows how bad it all is. So she gives. She’s patient and she’s kind and sometimes I don’t think I could’ve accessed that part of myself if it wasn’t for her.”

“How so?”

“Grown ups are more cautious because they always have the consequences to things like vulnerability right in front of their eyes. We’re more likely to be afraid to show our hearts because we know we could get hurt bad because of it. Little me isn’t scared of that. She wakes up brand new every day. She wears her heart on her sleeve and trusts her love to do the magic.”

“You’re an amazing person.” Bucky raised her hand to his lips to press a timid kiss without much thought, “I guess I have a lot to learn from you, doll.”

“Don’t say stuff like that!” She whined playfully, cheeks going hot as she turned away shyly, “plus, do you have a death wish?” She raised a playful eyebrow.

“It’s true though— what?”

“I didn’t give you permission to kiss me,” she teased, reminding him of the time she kissed his cheek on her first day at his house.

Bucky smiled sheepishly, whispering out an apology even though he knew she was joking.

She shook her head, still coughing as she ran to the bathroom, needing to find any sort of cold medicine. She knew what this was.

Bucky stopped himself when she started coughing abruptly.

She’s been coughing a little here and there since morning, but he didn’t think anything of it.

Bucky hurried behind her, “what’s wrong?”

In a second, she was bending forward, coughing her heart out.

“Are you okay?!”

She shook her head again, trying to calm down, “I thought it was just a sore throat but it’s getting worse.”

“Let’s get you to the doctor,” Bucky said, worry eating away inside his chest as he watched her cough more.

He quickly grabbed her jacket and keys, leading her out to her car.

~

“It’s because I let you sleep on the couch, isn’t it? You got cold,” Bucky said, running his fingers through his hair nervously as he paced around the room.

He hasn’t stopped blaming himself since they’d returned from the doctor’s. She caught a bad flu and Bucky quickly believed it was his fault.

“No, Bucky. It’s not that.”

“You don’t have to defend me, doll. It’s because of me. I’ve managed to hurt you again. And I don’t even use beds. I should’ve never let you sleep out here.”

“Hey! Calm down please! It’s not you... It was me.” She released a sigh, biting her lip.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when the rain got even worse after you went to bed. I thought I’d come out and cover the motorcycle so that it wouldn’t get all muddy and you’d have a hard time cleaning it,” she explained, fiddling with her fingers.

“That’s still because of me,” Bucky sighed.

“Come on, it’s not like you made me!” Her hoarse voice tried to reassure.

Bucky only ran his fingers through his messy hair again, not knowing what to say or do to make this one right.

“Bucky, please, I’m sick. All I want is for you to stay beside me and not blame yourself.” Her frown was back to her beautiful face and Bucky didn’t like it, “can you do that for me?”

He didn’t like how sick and scratchy her voice sounded either so he wasn’t about to make talk more with a throat like that.

“I’ve already proven I suck at taking care of you, doll,” Bucky chuckled sadly.

“Do you want forgiveness or not?” She joked.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m right here.”

“Is it dangerous for you though? I don’t want you to get it too.”

“I can’t get sick, remember?” Bucky smiled, rubbing her back lightly, “I’m your nurse now.”

“Is that so?” She giggled.

“Yeah.” He nodded confidently.

“You’re definitely not dressed for it,” she teased, giving him her tongue.

“Oh, are you into that kinda thing, doll?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile she has never seen before on his pink lips.

“Bucky!” she squealed, hiding her face with the covers, making Bucky laugh.

The sound was heaven to her ears and despite being awfully sick, she couldn’t wish for a better outcome for Bucky’s visit.

“Shit, here it comes again,” she gulped before starting another fit of harsh coughing.

“Bad word,” he whispered to her, making her smile tiredly as she continued coughing.

~

“I don’t wanna go,” she whined as Bucky gently forced her arm inside her jacket.

“We have to. You need your shots to get better.” Bucky covered her head with the hood of her jacket to make sure she was warm before leading her outside.

“But shots hurt,” she whined more with teary eyes.

“I’ll be right there, remember?”

“That’s not gonna do anything!” She whined further.

“Hey!” Bucky pretended to be hurt as he helped her inside the car.

She sighed with a grateful smile, “fine, hugs or I don’t go.”

“Hugs it is.” Bucky smiled back, taking seat next to her before starting the car.

~

“No, no, no, please. I’m not ready, I don’t want it. Give me pills instead, give me pills,” she cried in Bucky’s chest as she saw the doctor get the shot ready.

“Doll, it’s okay, I promise. I got you,” Bucky said, feeling as helpless as ever.

He wished he could get the shots for her, but it wasn’t possible. He could feel something different about her. She looked like she was slipping into her little headspace and it made Bucky nervous, oh so nervous, that he might mess up and not be able to deal with her again.

She barely calmed down enough for Bucky to help her small hands lower her pants just enough for the doctor to have space to push the needle in.

She moaned in pain as she hid her face in Bucky’s chest, crying for real when she felt the strong medicine inside the needle spread inside her.

“It stings. It stings bad,” she sobbed, hands clutching Bucky’s shirt as he covered her behind again and made sure she was properly covered.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We’re going home now, it’s over,” Bucky cooed, rubbing and patting her back with his big hand.

“It hurts, daddy,” she sniveled in his ear and Bucky froze.

Those innocent teary eyes looking up at him like that made him feel a lot of things. But most importantly, they made him feel like he could do this. He could take care of this sweet girl without messing up this time. Her love would show him how.

“I got you, doll. Daddy’s got you.”

~

part V

~

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[ronearoundblindly]

A Casual Kiss

Bucky Barnes x reader, one of my Valentine's Fics of 2024

It's just adorable fluff, really. No warnings. Divider by @cafekitsune WC 547

A lot has happened to Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes over his long life. He used to be a ladies’ man and a traditional sort of soldier. He used to have all his natural limbs. He used to take maybe a touch too much pride in his appearance. A lot has also changed.

Wars change people. Injuries change people. People simply change over time.

And Bucky Barnes has been around a long, long time.

You knew all this from the beginning, of course, because his whole tragic history had already been slashed across newspapers and television by the time you started work in the same building.

He started out cold, then he became reserved, and then he was cautious. You didn’t even know he knew your name until the day he—very formally and awkwardly—asked you out, and the relationship developed…predictably.

That’s the best word for it. Predictable.

There were a few dates before he hugged you goodnight. The next time, he kissed your cheek. The next, you got a chaste peck on the lips. So on and so forth.

Measured increments of intimacy.

It was predictable and still wonderful.

Bucky isn’t good with ‘easy-breezy’ anything, you see. He’s intense and considerate. He plans ahead and for all contingencies, and so you’re taken aback by this random passing in of your department leaving the conference room and Buck’s team coming in.

There’s plenty of people around. Normally, that means a kind smile, perhaps being asked to step aside for a moment so he can say hello and check on your day, maybe check on your plans for dinner, but today? Today is different.

He’s smiling alright, smiling wider and brighter than you’ve ever seen him on the job. His shoulders are relaxed and loose. He’s strutting right for you, and suddenly, like a choreographed dance move, he twists, kissed your forehead, and twists again, still walking but backwards now.

Bucky winks at you as his metal hand finishes a soft graze down your arm.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“Love you, doll,” he whispers though at least half the room can probably hear.

It’s not as if no one knows at work. You’ve dated for months, and for that whole stretch, Bucky’s been a perfect gentleman, just very…not casual. This is new.

So why not make it even stranger?

Your boyfriend snaps his flesh fingers like he just remembered something, nearly skipping the couple of feet to your side.

“Hey, so, I know we were doing movie night, but Sam’s taking some folks out to the corner bar. His treat.”

You can’t help but snort.

“Oh? And let me guess. You—who is unable to get drunk—would like to make him pay for the multiple bottles of top-shelf liquor you can consume.”

Bucky waggles an eyebrow, and you’re stunned.

“Know me so well,” he coos, leaning in to plant one more solid smooch on your lips.

Your lipstick stains his mouth until Bucky’s tongue wipes it away.

“I’ll pick you up at your office.”

You’ve hardly controlled the flutter in your gut but now have a grin fighting to break free. All you can do is nod, heading for the exit, thinking:

People always change over time…and sometimes, change is for the better.

A/N: Yeah, so, absolutely no one requested this and I don't care because HE DESERVES THE KISSES.

James Mace and a kiss without motive ⬅️ ➡️ Jake Jensen and a kiss to distract

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #valentine's day fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #valentine's day prompts

[navybrat817]

“If you want something, you have to use your words.” With Bucky Barnes 😍😍

Such a fun prompt, lovely! How about CEO!Bucky?

Use Your Words

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky will give you what you need as long as you use your words. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (m. receiving), possessive behavior, established relationship, pet name (princess), slight D/s vibes, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I don't know why this screamed CEO to me, but here we are. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You huffed a sigh as Bucky finally hung up the phone. He glanced at you with a small smile, the corner of his lips curling more when you narrowed your eyes. The love of your life was a busy man and you respected that. But if he took one more call, you’d throw his phone out the window. You didn’t care. He had more than enough money to buy a new one.

And you had been waiting for him on your knees, naked, for at least ten minutes.

“About time,” you muttered.

Your throat went dry as Bucky walked toward you. He stopped two feet away and from the angle reminded you just how much he was built like a brick house. The white dress shirt pulled taut over his wide chest, accentuated by his broad shoulders, and pants that hugged his massive thighs built for riding, the sight made you want to climb him and take his cock until he destroyed you. He ran a hand along his chiseled jaw and, from the mischievous look in his steel eyes, he drew attention to it on purpose.

You'd bite his chin later once you had the chance.

“Aww, princess,” he said in an almost mocking tone, his eyes sparkling again with laughter when you continued to glare. He loved riling you up. “If you want something, you have to use your words,” he told you, taking one step closer.

Like everyone else in Bucky’s life, he towered over you from his position. It would've terrified anyone else, but not you. No one else got to call themself Bucky’s princess and you would fight anyone who tried.

He was yours as much as you were his.

“I want you to put your cock in my mouth,” you said sweetly as you crawled closer to his feet, swaying your hips and watching his gaze fall to your breasts once you sat back on your knees again. “I want you to fuck my throat before you fuck my wet pussy.”

“Such a slut for me,” he said with a hint of affection he didn't dare show anyone else. He brushed a finger along your lips and your mouth fell open obediently. With a happy hum you sucked the digit into your mouth, happy that he put something there. “What makes you think you've earned my cock?”

The pout on your face didn't sway him as he took his finger out, but you caught the swift intake of breath when you ran his hands up his thighs. No one got to him the way you did. It was a heady feeling to know he gave you that kind of power. It was a gift you wouldn’t abuse.

But using it occasionally to your advantage wouldn't harm anyone.

“Because I've been good. You worked all day and I didn't bother you or tease you once. I didn’t even whine or complain when you took that call. I think that deserves a reward,” you answered, unbuckling his belt. You didn't move any further since he was still in charge. Or so he thought. “And don't you deserve a reward, too? Don't you deserve to use my holes?”

Reaching between your thighs, you watched his eyes darken when you gathered some of your wetness to show him. “That's my pussy you're touching,” he said.

“Mmm. So it is,” you smirked at the rustling of fabric and sound of him lowering his zipper. The sight of his hard cock springing free seconds later made your clit throb. You needed some relief, but he would reward you later for being good. “And your pussy is wet and ready whenever you're ready, Sir,” you promised, smearing your slickness along his cock from base to tip.

He taught you to appreciate the taste of yourself, but it was better when mixed with his.

And he rewarded you with a groan when you gave him a kittenish lick. “Show me first with your mouth how much you want me to fuck you,” he ordered.

You leaned forward to take him in just how he liked it. You started with the head, swirling your tongue gently around it with a moan. The drop of precum on your tongue had you greedy for more and it didn't take long for you to take in more of his cock, relaxing your throat so he could slide in. Being full of him was one of the best feelings in the world.

“Fuck, princess, that's it,” he rumbled as you slowly bobbed your head. Your head spun a little when he pushed himself further down your throat and groaned. You could take every inch.

The smile he gave you when you hollowed out your cheeks looked a little like love. The whine you let out when he hit the back of your throat said that you loved him, too. You loved him when he used you or when he treated you with such care. You loved that you belonged to each other.

He called you his princess, but you were truly his queen.

“And such a good girl for telling me what you need,” he grunted as he sped up his thrusts, your eyes burning with tears at his harsh movements. It wouldn’t be long until he came down your throat and your pussy clenched at the thought. You’d accept it all. “Keep sucking, princess. That’s it. Doing so well for me.”

He twitched on your tongue when you whined and moved faster, determined to make him feel good. When your hand moved up to cup his balls, it was all it took to tip him over the edge. With a growl, he spilled into your mouth. He gasped when you suddenly pulled off his cock and opened your mouth wider, showing him the load on your tongue.

You swore his cock twitched again when you shut your mouth to swallow it all down.

“Trying to kill me, princess,” he exhaled, tenderly holding your chin so you could look up at him. You smiled sweetly when his blue eyes locked with yours, proud of yourself when he continued to pant. Yeah, you got to him. No one else would ever compare. “Still need me to fuck my pussy?”

“Yes, Sir,” you rasped, your throat a bit sore in the best way. “Please, fuck me.”

He surprised you by joining you on your knees, keeping a hold of your chin to kiss you. He licked into your mouth, making you mewl from both the urgency and tenderness. “I’ll fuck you,” he breathed against your lips. “I'll always give you what you need.”

You knew he would. Bucky would always take care of you. All you had to do was use your words.

What do we think of CEO!Bucky? Yes? No? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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[cratlord]

Prince of the Seas - Chapter 1

Here is the first chapter of my very first fic!  I will put it below the line so you can read if you want.  I have also posted it on AO3, if that’s more your jam.

Pairing: Bucky x Ruby / Some Bucky x Killian

Summary: Things did not get better for Bucky Barnes after he and Sam had their adventure. They got worse. After years of living only through stolen moments of his own life, he is given a chance to build a life in a whole new world. The catch? That life is going to be a very, very long one. This is the tale of the life built in the Realm that will one day be known as Misthaven, or the Enchanted Forest.

Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, suicidal thoughts, violence, Sexual content

The sound of the spent shell casing rolling slowly across the top of the table was grounding for Bucky, as he flicked the little metal tube back and forth in front of him from one hand to the other.  He let the sounds of the arguing voices ebb and flow around him, his mind disassociating down to where all he knew was the little shell casing.  Back and forth.  Back.  Then forth.  Memories would occasionally drift by the calm seas of his thoughts, but he let them sink back into the depths, as his therapist had long ago taught him to do.  Back and forth.  His hands barely moved, and his eyes moved just enough to follow the shiny reflective metal as it passed in it’s repetitive loop. 

He physically jolted when a hand appeared in his line of sight, snatching the little item from his view.  He followed the arm up to the stern face of his current lawyer. 

“You in there, Barnes?” he asked rudely, the silence of the rest of the courtroom finally pressing down into Bucky’s bubble of solitude. 

Bucky hadn’t been a fan of this man when he had been appointed to him twenty years ago, and his feelings about him had only soured since.  He arched his brow dryly at the man.  It was some small comfort that at least the ass hole of a lawyer had gotten fat and gone bald over the decades.  During their last few appointments, Bucky had made sure to run his fingers through his thick, soft hair just to irk the man.  He’d even neglected to cut it for the last five years, leaving him with enough to put in a thick ponytail.  He didn’t reply to the rude comment and instead just glared. 

Baldy rolled his eyes and gestured towards the stand.  “If you had been paying attention, you would know they just called for you to take the stand.”  He shook his head.  “It’s like you don’t even care about these hearings,” the bastard mumbled. 

Bucky knew the lawyer knew that he could hear everything he mumbled, but he kept mumbling dumb shit anyways.  The fucker was just trying to bait a rise out of him.  It never worked.  Bucky had seen these kinds of legal bullies for decades by this point.  He would always be irritated by the fast talking and malicious lawful-evil cunts, but he was long since immune to their needling.  He kept his face blank as he stood up and made his way calmly and slowly to the stand.  He took his seat and stared out into the middle distance.  He knew by now that people would think he was rude if he refused to look at them, but if he made eye contact he would be accused of threatening them.  Either way he was going to be punished in this hearing, but at least being rude didn’t get him chained up for the duration of it. 

The prosecutor from the Earth Federation Investigative Bureau paced in front of him.  It was a dance they all knew.  The woman didn’t even bother with bringing her tablet up.  She looked at Bucky, but he just kept staring at the seal in the back of the room.  She smirked briefly before beginning her line of questioning.  “Mr. Barnes, what can you tell us about the death of the Avenger known as Red Flare?” 

The memory briefly flashed before Bucky’s eyes.  Red had been a good man.  Far too good for this corrupt puppet show.  Bucky could still see the man’s tearful last look back as he closed the hatch on the old defunct space station, just before James had catapulted it towards the enemy fleet of starships which were coming to wipe out life on Earth.  His last words still rang in his heart to this day, five years later.  “James,” he’d said, his voice coming through the radio clearly despite the growing distance between them, “if I could give my unquenchable flame to anyone it would be you, my friend, so with it, you could burn the chains that bind you and bring freedom to this land again.  Goodbye.”   “He blew up.”

The prosecutor stared at him, waiting for more.  There was silence in the court for nearly two minutes before she finally lost her patience. 

“How very enlightening,” she sneered.  “And where were you when he ‘blew up’?” she asked, inflection turning sarcastic as she repeated his own words back to him. 

“Watching from from the EFS Stark, waiting to fulfill my orders.”  He kept his voice void of any feeling.  He’d learned long ago not to give the scavengers anything they could devour, or else they would just keep on picking at him for more. 

“Which were?” she probed, not bothering to try and get him to talk unprompted.

  He could still see the calculating look in his handlers eyes when he had been given his orders, and then again later when they had deemed the entire mission security level Theta, which trumped even a court’s ability to open it.  He knew the prosecutor knew that.  It was the same as it always was.  “That’s classified.”

“The papers say his death was unavoidable,” she intoned, looking up at him.

 “Was that your assessment of the situation?”

“That’s classified.” He felt the irritation rise to the surface again, then let it sink into the depths. 

She scoffed.  “Do you not think a court is important?  How is there supposed to be any justice done when the only witness to these, and many other events refuses to speak of them?” 

He kept his face blank, knowing it often irritated the prosecutors when they couldn’t get him to crack.  “If you would like to request a declassification of intelligence, you may fill out a form FSS-15/B and submit it to the Office of the Security Councilor in London.  The request will be processed within 15 business days, and your results will be mailed certified.” 

“I know the process for requesting classified information, Barnes!” she snapped.  “But we all know that no information has been declassified in the last sixty years when it comes to you, and it does beg the question.  What are you doing that requires so much secrecy from a court of justice?  Why is it that out of all of the Avengers, only you have all of your missions classified?” 

Bucky couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped him.  He knew it made him look a little crazy, and to be honest, after all these years, crazy probably wasn’t far off. 

“Does this amuse you, Mr. Barnes?” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.  She was new, he could tell by the lack of gray hair and wrinkles, but she had a flare for the dramatics that would make her very rich in this bis. 

He shook his head condescendingly.  “It is a bit funny, kid,” he smirked down to her as she glared back up.  He loved calling professionals kid, they got so riled.  “This is my ninth hearing, and it’s always pretty funny when the flop hits.”

She looked genuinely confused, and his own lawyer looked completely unamused. 

He decided to take pity on the new girl.  She couldn’t have been older than thirty, it was kind of sad to see the sharks eating her so quickly.  “Every ten years I have a new trial.  In that trial, we hear all kinds of arguments, but they always have some kind of theme, and no matter what, I’m guilty.  Last time, I failed to kill Earth’s enemies fast enough, which caused the death of kids.  The time before, I killed enemies too quickly and was accused of playing judge, jury, and executioner.  Before that I was acting outside of orders, even though the orders I was given would have resulted in the destruction of the entire continent of Australia.  The time before that I was accused of following my orders too closely in a spirit of malicious compliance, thus causing the death of six handlers.  That one might have been accurate though…” he trailed off.

  She shook her head.  “And how will we ever prove that if we can’t get any information out of you?”

It happened in a moment.  All at once he was certain.  He knew exactly what his plan was, and it settled deep into his bones that he actually didn’t care about this anymore.  That he hadn’t in some time.  A weight lifted from his shoulders and for the first time in years he smiled a genuine smile. 

“You want information, doll?” he asked, eyes twinkling mischievously at the prosecutor, who very suddenly looked nervous.  He was going off script and he knew she hadn’t prepared for that.  “I’ll give you some real hot tea.”  He looked around, pretending to make sure people weren’t listening, as if he were spilling some hot gossip.  “That judge over there,” he said, hiding his mouth from the bench right next to him, while clearly speaking loud enough for the mic to pick up, “He has the bodies of four underage prostitutes in his back yard behind his retaining wall.” 

The prosecutor’s jaw dropped.  His own attorney was suddenly pale as a ghost.  Bucky didn’t give them a chance to regroup. 

“My own attorney, Mr. Acrombe, hired my handler to have his first wife killed since the idiot didn’t sign a prenup.  Your own father, Mr. Jackson Tibre, hired my handler to kill your grandfather.  That was particularly efficient, since your grandpa happened to live in New York.  I was able to blow his brains out while taking care of some whack job sorcerer and the demon squids he was summoning.”  He lifted his hand to rub his own chin thoughtfully.  “You know, the number of missions my handlers double dip on is actually a lot higher than you might think.  Hell, I might have killed more fools for my current handler than I ever did for Hydra.”

“Shut up, Mr Barnes!” yelled his bald, fat attorney.  “As your attorney, I really must insist you cease telling these bald lies while you are under oath!”

  James laughed out loud.  “And you would know about bald lies.”  He made sure to put emphasis on the bald part, and was rewarded with his favorite eye twitch.   “The part that really pisses me off though, is how we have to have these circuses you call ‘hearings’ every decade or so,” he said, finally letting a sliver of his own rage and exhaustion slip through into his tone.  He hadn’t shown emotion to the public in decades, and he dearly hoped the footage was being leaked onto the internet somewhere.  The prosecutor opened her mouth as if to speak and James shot to his feet.  “YOU WILL SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH AND LISTEN!” he shouted, bringing the court to silence instantly. 

“I have had this arc reaction bomb strapped to my ankle for over ninety fucking years.  For ninety fucking years you have said if I did as I was told, then my parole would be over after one more hearing.  And for ninety fucking years I have watched this farce of a world order become more and more like the very organization I am supposedly being punished for serving.” 

Nobody spoke for a full minute as he glowered over the people in the audience, all of them suddenly very afraid.

“I’m tired,” he said softly.  “I’m sick and damn tired of killing people I don’t want to kill.  I’m tired of having all this blood on my hands.  The only reason I haven’t killed myself ages ago is because this damn bomb on my leg.  The moment my heart stops, it’s safety mechanism is such that it assumes a galactic level threat and blows, leveling a ten square mile area.  If I die, it blows taking everyone near me with me.  If I don’t follow orders, it blows taking everyone around with me.  If I am somewhere I shouldn’t be, it fucking blows.  I have been a god damn slave to you people, trying my best not to bring a million people down with me all these years, keeping my silence because this damn bomb would kill so many more than I will with my rifle on the side.  Well I’m tired.” 

Nobody spoke.  Nobody moved.  Bucky sat down and resumed his blank look back at the prosecutor, who was now staring at him with wide eyes filled with uncertainty. 

“You know, and I know, this hearing changes nothing.  This is just a technicality, something that helps people sleep at night with the fact that their longest running Avenger, the one who has saved this species and this planet more than anyone else alive, has only been saving them this whole time under duress.  I am nothing but a slave, the same now as I was under Hydra.  At least they had the common decency to wipe my memories so I didn’t have to remember it.  And I dearly hope that answers your question, Ms Tibre, about why all my missions are classified.”

Everyone in the court began shouting instantly when he stopped talking.

  Everyone but the prosecutor.  Bucky could tell she knew he wasn’t lying.  Not only that, but he also got the impression she didn’t know most of what he had just screamed for everyone to hear.  It was sad really.  She probably wouldn’t survive the month now.  Based on the fear on her face, she seemed to have realized that too.  Bucky gave her a small smile, his little way of saying that if she was killed, it wouldn’t be by him. 

The judge banged his gavel and shouted for order, and the farce continued. 

It took two more hours of bickering and arguing before it was agreed that Bucky was a dreadful lier, and he obviously needed twenty more years of parole, at least, before he got another hearing.  It was exactly what he expected, and yet, for the first time, he didn’t care.  He didn’t say another word for the entire rest of the hearing, and the moment it was finished, he stood up and left. 

He rushed out of the opulent marble chamber and down the crowded halls full of whispering people.  They were all talking about him, as people often were.  He had been Earths favorite Avenger to hate for longer than most people had been alive at this point.  He was used to it.  He ignored them the way he ignored the metal detectors along the entrances and exits.  He breezed through the glass doors and onto the marble steps, emerging from the tall pillars of the court house in DC. 

He was halfway down the stairs, his bike in sight, when he heard his name being called behind him.  He sighed deeply and stopped, turning around to see the young prosecutor running to catch up with him.

“Mr. Barnes,” she panted when she finally stood in front of him, her legs quivering in her sensibly low, yet still impractical heels.  “You weren’t lying in there,” she stated, looking him directly in the eyes. 

“No shit,” he shrugged. 

She looked at him, her large brown eyes framed by sleek auburn bangs, the fear and tension dripping off her entire form, and yet her eyes held a resolute gleam he found he suddenly respected.  Her entire body was quivering, and Bucky couldn’t help but notice it was a damn fine body to be wasted on a soulless lawyer. 

He took a step forward and snaked his metal arm around her waste, other hand grabbing her chin and lifting it up so that her lips met his own.  Whether it was the adrenaline, or simple shock, she actually kissed him back.  It was by no means a nice kiss he gave her.  His grip was steel, and his lips took far more than he knew he should have, considering the situation. 

She gasped in shock, and he didn’t hesitate to plunge his tongue into her mouth, greedily plundering all she had to offer in this very public venue.  Her own grip tightened onto the lapels of his jacket as her tongue danced with his.  He could hear her heart pounding, even skipping a beat when his hand slipped from her jaw and tangled into her hair, completely messing up her carefully crafted up-do and pulling slightly.  The smell of her arousal tingled his sensitive nose, and he shivered, his own cock perking up at the slim yet curvy and soft body pressed against him. 

He pulled his lips from hers and held her now darkened gaze in his own, his hand in her hair keeping her from turning away.  “You’re on their shit list now, doll,” he mumbled, loud enough for her to hear, but none of the gaping onlookers.  He pulled her closer so that his lips just brushed the shell of her ear.  “If you want to live, now is not the time to be quiet and contemplative.  You need to take down as many as you can, as quickly as you can, and as loudly as you can.  Those assholes have no loyalty, only greed.  The moment there’s blood in the water, they will turn on each other.  If you can control the narrative, you get to decide who comes out on top.” 

As quickly as he grabbed her, he let her go.  She stumbled a bit, but managed to stay upright.  In the time it took for her to regain her balance, he had already turned away and was several steps closer to his bike.  He grabbed his helmet and was sure to shove his ponytail into it so that it didn’t get too tangled, then he mounted the machine that was his pride and joy.  It was one of his only belongings which he truly loved.  It was large, electric, completely custom made, just for him, and the fastest bike ever made by Stark Industries.  It was literally impossible for someone who wasn’t a super soldier to hag on to the thing while it was accelerating. 

Within seconds of him letting her go, the prosecutor watched as he sped off, knowing deep in her bones she would never see the man again.  Her fingers rose to her lips, remembering the raw need, bordering on desperation, that she felt in his kiss.  How long had that man been fighting alone?  And more importantly, did the other Avengers even know about his ankle bracelet?  She couldn’t help but think that Red Flare must have known. 

She sighed, knowing she was in for some long nights and hard work. 

Next Chapter

Series Index

#bucky barnes #bucky deserves a hug #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #tired bucky #suicide mentioned #mentions violence #crossover #once upon a time #marvel mcu

[world-of-aus]

Pairing: Cowboy!Bucky x Nanny!Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I'm honestly still in my cowboy era and have also been wanting to try my hand at making a series so I bring you this little piece! I have it more less planned and hope you all will stick around and enjoy this ride with me! Happy Readings!

The iron gate is warm under his touch, the rising sun low enough in the sky that the iron railing has now begun to cool. He watches his dark-haired boy run around the ‘arena’; lasso gripped tightly in his small hands as he gives the calf chase.  

Bucky chuckles smile pulling at his lips as he calls out to his son, “champ you got to get that rope off the ground if you want to catch ‘im”. The boy all but stops in his track, feet throwin up dirt chocolate eyes locking on his, “the ropes to long daddy, I’m trying!” he pouts.  

Clambering off the rails his feet hit the dirt as he makes his way into the gated ‘arena’ closing the distance between him and his son. He gets down to eye level, pout still adorning his boy’s lips, “you, Uncle Steve, and Sam make this look so easy, I don’t get what I’m doing wrong, I'm doing exactly how I see you do it.” 

“Not doing anything wrong champ, c’mere,” he says pulling his son close. “Put your hand here, and wrap this,” he says adjusting his sons' hands, “right here, make sure it’s tight now, don’t want to lose your grip on it and risk that calf getting away from you now.”  

Grant follows his father’s directions, “alright, now that we got the rope secured let's get it above our heads.” He helps his son get the rope going, “see, you’re getting it, now, I want you to throw it right at that spot over there imagine the calf's just sitting, focus now,” He advises finger pointed to a spot just feet ahead. Bucky watches his son, tongue peeked out of his lips as he concentrates, rope still swinging. It falls quiet for a moment, then the soft thud of rope hitting dirt meets their ears. Grants grin is wide as he snaps his head back to look at his dad, “I did it daddy! I did it!” He mirrors his son’s smile pulling him in for a bone-crushing hug, lips finding the side of his chocolate locks, “knew you could bud, knew you could.” 

“I can’t wait to tell Aunt Tasha about it!” the boy’s excitement grows, “well how about we get a few more rounds of practice in, we still got some time before she gets here.” 

They’re outside in the arena practicing till the sun begins to dip into the west horizon making way for the moon and stars that have begun to decorate the still early night sky. Bucky leads him and his son from the arena, leaving the calf with his mom in the barn before they make their way to the house. Steve’s truck is parked out front, him and Natasha sitting on the porch waiting. 

Grant spots his aunt and uncle first, excitement hardly contained as he drops his dad’s hand bolting to the front porch, his aunt’s name on his lips. Bucky stops by the front of Steve’s truck watching his son, he’s in Natasha’s arms, raving about his day to them, Steve and Natasha hearing him with wonder in their eyes. 

“You’re going to be running circles around the arena in no time bud, put all of us to shame, especially your dad” Steve teases meeting his eyes. 

Bucky laughs, “The day he puts me to shame in the arena will be the greatest day of my life, means I taught him well.’ 

“While we can’t wait for the day he puts ALL OF YOU to shame, I’d like to enjoy my little man while I can, right champ?” Natasha grins hoisting the boy higher on her hip. Grant is taken with his aunt hands curling around her neck as he squeezes her there cheeks mushing together. 

There’s an ache in Bucky’s chest as he watches the scene before him, like the many restless nights he has he can’t help but to think in this moment what he could have done differently, what he could have said to make her stay. He’s her carbon copy, he hates it. She doesn’t deserve to have any piece of him, not after she just up and left without so much as a word. Bucky still recalls the urgent call from the daycare asking if anyone would be coming for Grant. He hadn’t been able to get ahold of her since that day, not that he’s tried much since Grant’s 3rd birthday. 

“Buck - hey pal everything good, you sure you still wanna meet Sam at thirsty barrel?” 

The brunette is pulled from his reverie, eyes falling on his best friend who has since approached him, he shakes his head, “yeah - yeah pal sorry just thinking.” He looks over Steve’s shoulder, Natasha and Grant waving at him, he waves back, “have fun you guys, me and little man are gonna have some fun of our own, isn’t that right!” 

“Make sure he’s in bed by 9, 10 the latest.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever dad, get out of here!” Natasha replies waving them off. 

Steve and Bucky chuckle making sure Natasha and Grant get inside the house before they clamber into Steve’s truck. 

“You sure you feeling up for tonight?” Steve questions him as he turns the key in the ignition. Bucky watches the house, getting a glimpse of Grant through the window, “I’m sure, my thoughts just got the best of me but I'll be fine.” Steve puts the truck into drive, “she’s not worth it Buck, the day she decided to leave, cut all contact with you, with grant that’s the day she stopped being of any importance.” 

“Yeah,” he murmurs eyes drifting out the window as Steve backs out of the ranch, “it’s just I wonder if I had done things differently if she would still be here.” 

“You gave her your all Buck; I don’t think there’s anything more you could have given her to make her stay.” 

And though Bucky knows Steve is right, his words don’t sting any less. 

The thirsty barrel was in full swing, the bar packed to the brim. Bucky, Steve and Sam had managed to snag the last remaining booth, drinks being run to their table as they talked business. 

“So you find anyone to watch little man when we hit the road at the end of the month?” Sam questioned over his drink. 

Bucky sighed, he had forgotten, he had been so busy with Grant, with the ranch that he had forgot to look into a caretaker for his son. Another thing he would have to add to his to do list for tomorrow. He shakes his head taking a sip of his beer, “not yet, been looking around but I haven't settled on anyone yet.” 

Sam tsks, “We have two weeks before we’re needing to head out on the road Buck, and little man can’t come with us because of school.” Bucky places his drink down running a hand over his bearded scruff, “you don’t think I know that Sam, I'm trying, just haven’t had luck, can’t just trust anyone with him either, I need to know he’s going to be safe, cared for.” 

“I can ask Natasha to skip this trip Buck, I’m sure it won’t be a problem, she loves spending time with grant.”  

Bucky shakes his head at Steve, “absolutely not pal, I know how much Natasha is looking forward to seeing you ride, I can’t ask that of you or her – I'll find someone – I will.” 

A damper has been placed on Bucky’s mood despite the change in subject, and he’s quiet for most of the night tuning in here and there when Steve or Sam directs something at him. He’s there, but not really, his mind drifting to the thought of his son. If Sam or Steve notice his absence, they don’t mention it, nor do they push him to converse, they know how hard it's been for him since she left, and they try to do all they can to help him. 

They’re not at the bar long, Sam being the first one to throw in the towel, Steve seconding the notion, Bucky doesn’t argue as they pay the tab, each leaving a tip for their waitress. The trio say their goodbyes outside of the bar, Sam promising to stop by the ranch tomorrow to see grant, get some riding time in with the boy, Steve jumps in to join as well. “Can use all the practice, only got two weeks left,” he chuckles. 

Bucky and Steve see Sam off before they get inside the truck, it's quiet most of the ride home, Bucky appreciates Steve for giving him this. It’s only until they’re pulling into the ranch 30 minutes later that he does decide to speak up. 

“I’ll help you find someone for Grant,” he says putting the truck in park, eyes meeting his friends, “make sure that it’s someone we can trust, the closest to family that we can get.” 

Bucky nods, the fear of that not being possible choking him, Steve reaches a hand out laying it on his shoulder, squeezing, “I promise pal, we’ll find you someone, we’ve got two weeks.” 

Two weeks. 

Two weeks. 

Bucky’s nodding again, “I appreciate you pal, listen I'll go get Natasha for you, know you two have quite the drive, don’t want it getting late for you.” 

Steve gives him his thanks watching him get off the truck, make his way up the steps and to the front door. Bucky disappears inside, returning a few minutes later with Natasha. Steve watches the two exchange a few words before she’s pulling Bucky into a tight embrace more words shared. The two pull away and Bucky watches her as she gets into the truck safely.  

They all wave one final time at each other before Bucky heads back inside, the lights of his home flickering off one at a time. Steve waits till the last light has been turned off before he’s putting the truck back in drive, making his way out of the ranch. 

“How was he?” Natasha questions finding Steve’s hand. 

“He’s not doing good,” Steve answers, “he’s worried about leaving Grant at the end of the month.” 

“I can stay, you know I don’t mind, I can watch you ride anytime.” 

Steve looks over to her, “he already said no, you know he isn't going to go back on his word,” his eyes flick back to the road, “we just need to find someone he can trust; we need family.” 

It goes quiet in the cab of the truck for a moment, Natasha speaks up a few minutes later, “I might have someone, she’s a family friend, I could have her come meet us at the ranch tomorrow.” Steve gives her a questioning look, the redhead rolls her eyes, “Bucky doesn’t keep anything from me where Grant is involved, it’ll be perfect everyone can meet her, see how she fits in.” 

Steve agrees, and he can’t help but hope this works out, he didn’t want to see his friend hurting anymore, and he hoped with help that he might be the Bucky he was before her. 

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #cowboy!bucky #cowboy!au #singledad!bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au

[waywardcrow]

All eyes on us.

Summary: This wedding needs to happen, it's the only way you can protect the ones you love, the only problem is that you're in love with your husband-to-be and he would never love you back.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.

TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, mentions of mysogyny, implications of mafia kind of stuff, death of parents, mention of future smut, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Part of the Yours to lose series.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Everyone was waiting for her but she kept looking at herself in the mirror.

The wedding dress was beautiful, Pepper told her it was what Maria Stark –her mother- wore in her own wedding day and she loved it, the silk was too soft, hugging her curves with an ethereal touch and it had a subtle scent that she assumed belonged to the mother she couldn't remember.

Tony swore their mother loved her, their father too, the young bride couldn’t help but doubt it, they would not love her if they could see her now about to get married to a man who didn’t love her back, a man who humiliated her once for his pride, someone who probably only wanted what this arrangement could give him back.

How would she survive this marriage when it was impossible to leave the room and get to the Cathedral?

A knock in the door pulled her out of her mind, finding Natasha smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror.

“Are you ready, dear?” her friend knew the real answer but still gave her the chance to speak.

“I was about to go” she lied and the redhead gave her a knowing look “everyone it’s waiting, isn’t it?”

“You’re the bride, honey, they can wait” Natasha walked to her, looking like a goddess in her silver dress and put her arms around the bride’s body “you can say no, we can fight Russo’s father, hell, Billy would love having one more excuse to kill him.”

She was sure Billy would do it, not only for her but for his sister, for Madani and for himself but it wasn’t time yet, the alliances needed to be settled, Stark and Barnes had to fight alongside to kill Pierce and Carlo Russo. She made all that mess before getting her family back and nobody would take them from her, never again.

“It has to be done, Nat” she put the veil in her head and took the beautiful bouquet Becca left for her earlier “let’s go.”

Her friend must have seen something in her eyes that made her nod.

“Alright, Bells. Let’s do this” her nickname, the one Yelena gave her when they met years ago, made her smile, who could ever thought that knocking someone out with Christmas bells will change her life?

Natasha guided her trough the corridors to the waiting room where Tony was talking in a hushed tone with Pepper, her sister-in-law radiant with her baby bump, reminding her why this alliance needed to happen.

“I’d be waiting outside, dear” Nat kissed her cheek and went to take her place with the other bridesmaids.

Tony was staring at her, pale like a ghost, whispering his sister's name. It wasn’t the first time in the last months Bells was told how much alike she was with his mother, their mother but this time Tony didn’t say anything, just looked at her eyes to find determination that matched his concern.

“Everything it’s beautiful, Peps, thank you” the bride said and the ginger smiled with a hint of sadness barely visible.

“It’s the least I could do for you, topolina. You deserve beautiful things” she never had a mother, not that she could remember, but with Pepper there she could feel like she did.

Pepper gave her husband a gentle squeeze in the arm and went to join the rest of the guest.

“I have Frank ready to go, say the word and we leave” his first words almost made her chuckle, he spent the last fifteen days planning ways to get her out of this but Bells always refused, a small and stupid part of her happy because she would marry the man she loved.

“I want to do this, Tony, for all of us” that part it was true, this marriage was the only way she could protect him and Pepper and the baby, Billy and Dinah, Frank and Maria and the kids, the family she dreamed about since she was a kid and that she finally had. It also would save her from Carlo Russo’s greedy hands.

Bells knew one or two things about the mob, mostly from movies and for that she was sure the respect from his brother to her choices were more part of his good soul, she heard some stories from Maria that made her want to kill Carlo Russo even more.

True to the man she met not too long ago Tony didn’t fight her, instead he straightened his bow tie and extended an arm out for her to take it.

“Then allow me to walk you down the aisle, signorina, it will be my honour” the charm went back to his eyes and Bells could breathe, if she could count on them, she could do anything.

The music started playing when the wedding planner gave the signal and every one of her friends smiled at her or blew kisses at her before marching down the aisle. From where she was she could see Maria walk with confidence, not sparing a glance to her father who unfortunately was sited next to her brother Billy and Dinah.

Natasha was the last one, looking at her with reassurance one last time before following the others, then it was their turn.

“I love you, topolina”

“Love you too, Tony”

The crowd of guest was an unfocused picture, she only had eyes for the man waiting for her at the altar, wearing a black tux with a new haircut, his long chestnut locks were gone, sending a silly wave of sorrow through her veins.

She loved his hair, in an embarrassing impulse she remembered pulling his long hair to get him to kiss her again when-

Bells stopped herself.

It was dangerous to think about those times, they were gone the minute he saw her as one of his properties and decided to punish her for something she never did.

Bucky’s eyes never left her the whole way to him, drinking her like he was dying of thirst. Steve must have noticed too because he gave him a subtle bump to get him to blink and stop looking like he would commit sacrilege in the middle of the church.

The beautiful glass windows projected a million colors around her when Tony lifted the veil and with a barely visible hesitance put her hand in Bucky’s.

“I’m confident you will protect her with your life, Barnes” was all he said, dead serious when Bucky gave him a solemn nod and her brother kissed her forehead.

With her eyes watching her step, Bells avoided looking at him until it was impossible to keep going.

A soft smile, one she thought she lost forever, resurfaced when their eyes locked and the bride could read what he was thinking.

She was his, always was and always would be and he would never let her go.

I'd do bad things with you >>>

Hiya! I'm super happy to post this story even if I don't know what I'm doing, to be honest I'm not fluent in italian, so here's the translation of the pet names I used:

-topolina: Little mouse.

-signorina: Miss.

If I made a mistake with that, feel free to correct me and tell me what you think! What do you think it will happen?

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Take Me Home Tonight

Summary: You run into a familiar face while working. (Bucky Barnes)

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, fingering, dry humping, flirting.

Note: look, we didn't expect Applebee's to inspire one fic, but now it's done two fics. Shit. We are deranged.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Please also reblog because it’s a lot longer than I intended.

You hug the menus to your chest as you approach the booth of four newly sat in your section. As you do, you stutter step, unsure if your eyes are seeing clearly. You know that hair, the subtle wave of brown with strands of silver woven in. You step up and give a smile to the men.

“Good evening,” you place a menu in front of each of them; the burly blonde comedically crowded into the corner beside the man with dark hair and darker eyes, the blonde you vaguely recognise from his acquaintance with the most familiar face at the table, “Mr. Barnes.”

“Oh, hi,” he sits up and sets the drink menu back at the centre of the table, “uh,” he gives you a peculiar look, “I thought you worked down at the Denny’s.”

“Used to. Just got hired here,” you chime, “uh, so, are you all ready to go with your drink orders?”

“You mind?” The blond with the short hair nudges him.

“Yeah, go ahead, I’m still thinking,” he sits back.

“Heineken,” the man orders with a tweak of his eyebrow.

“Seems you don’t carry Hansa so I’ll have a jolly rancher cocktail,” the big blond intones. You almost laugh, thinking of him with the bright blue drink with a gummy worm for garnish.

“Shirley Temple for me,” the other says, “designated driver.”

“Oh, of course,” you note each order in your head, “and you, Mr. Barnes?”

“Mr. Barnes,” the man across from him goads.

“Bucky,” Mr. Barnes corrects you, “uh, I’ll take a Corona.”

“Alright, Heineken, jolly rancher, Shirley Temple, Corona,” you list off, “I’ll be back with your drinks and to take your order.”

“Thanks,” Bucky smiles.

“Yeah, thanks, doll,” the blonde at his shoulder winks. You don’t miss the elbow he receives from his seat partner.

You go to the bar and put in the order. You do a round to check in on your other tables, grabbing a few napkins at request and clearing plates. When the drinks are set out neatly on a tray, you carry them to the booth and dole them out.

“So, are we starting with an appetizer?” You ask.

“We’ll do some nachos,” the man across from Bucky says, “thanks, sweetie.”

“Beef, chicken, or veggie?”

“Chicken,” he answers.

“Hey, I know you,” the blond drapes his arm over the side of the booth, “you’re the neighbour girl.”

“Steve,” Bucky reproaches under his breath.

“What? It was killing me. I just couldn’t place the face.”

Bucky utters your name, almost reluctant to do so, “I’m just out with buddies,” he explains, “buncha old men catching up;” he jabs his thumb towards the man beside him, “Steve, Thor,” he points to the other blonde then to the man across from him, “Sam.”

“Sounds like fun,” you chirp, “well, I’ll go get those nachos. Are we planning on entrees?”

“We’ll just share the chips,” Bucky assures.

Sam leans back and pats his chest, “heartburn.”

You humour him with a smile and nod before spinning away. You flit off and head for the kitchen. It’s strange seeing Mr. Barnes– Bucky outside the neighbourhood. He’s always just been next door. Odder even seeing him without his family. Well, you guess he deserves the break. Every time you see him, he’s on his way somewhere.

🍻

The night wears on. Your shifts always pass quickly as you’re kept afoot by patrons and managers alike. Several times you find yourself visiting Bucky’s table to top up drinks and they grow rowdy as the game comes on the big screen. 

You’re almost amused as you’ve never seen your neighbour like this. He’s always so stern and standoffish. A small wave as he mows the lawn or a ‘morning’ as you pass by him unlocking his car. Even your father claimed he was the most serious man he’d ever met.

“Sweetheart,” Sam smiles at you as clear the empties, “can we get our check? I gotta get them out of here before they break something.”

“Sure thing,” you say as you stack the tray with bottles and glasses, “separate or together?”

“Together. I’ll have to chase them down for the difference,” Sam answers.

As you take the clear Corona bottle from in front of Bucky, he rests his chin in his hand and watches you. Your eyes meet his and your cheeks round even more. He’s definitely drunk.

“Hi,” he babbles.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes,” you return.

“I told you, it’s Bucky,” he grins.

“Bucky,” you repeat, “you want some water?”

He sits up and drags his elbow off the table, “I guess I should…”

“For all of them,” Sam says from your other side, “please.”

“Alright, check and waters.”

You almost click your heels before you sweep off on your mission. It’s almost closing time and the place is sparse. A few stragglers along the bar but no more hectic families of screaming toddlers breaking crayons and tossing napkins.

You go to the till and print out the bill and grab a handheld from the charger. You place both on your cleared tray and fill three glasses of water. You carry them back to your last table and gently set the condensating drinks before each diner. Sam takes the bill as he holds his card between two fingers.

“You go to school?” Steve’s voice startles you before you can summon small talk.

“Uh, yeah, second year,” you answer him.

“I thought so,” he says, “college girls…”

“Shut up, Rogers,” Bucky grumbles, putting his hand up to block out Steve, “ignore him. He’s trashed.”

“Speak for yourself,” Steve swats his hand down and receives a swipe back. 

The men slap at each others’ hands as Thor stands and leans over, his size deterring the men as he shoves their arms apart, “enough. Or I’ll drag you out like stray cats.”

You try not to show your discomfort as Sam hands you back the machine and it loudly prints his receipt. You offer him a copy but he insists you go and enjoy your night. You bid them all the same and set off to clear the last of your tables.

Your coworkers start their own closing tasks and the music turns off as closing time hits. You glance up, everyone’s gone. You go back to the booth and gather up the mostly untouched glasses of water and wipe it down. With your tables done, you turn in your apron and go to get your cut of the tips. Your tally comes up higher than you expect thanks to the table of middle-aged men.

You head out the back door and round to the front of the shining marquee. You’ll uber home since your mom is out of town. As you step up on the little pavement lip in front of the restaurant, a figure stands from their perch on the ground. You don’t recognise Bucky until he says your name.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” You ask as you lower your phone.

“Ah, well, me and Steve…” he rubs his neck and chuckles, “I’m waiting on a cab but none have passed by.” He shrugs, “plus, I figured we’re headed in the same direction…”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess,” you say, “I was just ordering an uber. Kinda don’t like taking them alone so late at night anyway.”

“Great,” he slurs, “uh, sorry about tonight. My friends are… a lot.”

“It’s fine, you were having a good time,” you select a ride and black out your phone. “Just make sure you drink lots of water.”

“Hmm,” he hums, “you’re so nice… I’ll be fine, you know? I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I just… I hate hangovers.”

“Oh? Didn’t take you for a drinker?”

“Well, don’t tell mom but once in a while.”

“My lips are sealed,” he surprises you as he reaches to squeeze your shoulder. “And I’ve never broken a promise to a pretty girl.”

You want to laugh. He’s tipsy and it’s kind of cute. The glare of headlights flash over you and he drops his arm away from you. The uber approaches and you check the plate, pointing Bucky in ahead of you. 

He sidles over the seat and yawns as you climb in next to him. The driver confirms your destination as you let yourself relax against the seat. The tension of your shift slowly drifts away.

Bucky slowly slides until he’s leaning against you, “I’ll pay you back for the ride,” he grumbles as he rests his head on your shoulder. 

The tension seeps back into you but you try not to overthink it. He’s just your neighbour, a friendly neighbourhood dad, a bit discombobulated from his night out. He probably doesn’t get many of those.

“Been a long time since I went home with a girl like you,” he chuckles.

You laugh, a nervous tickle in your throat as his weight bears down on you. You can smell a hint of citrus from his hair. Hopefully he’ll forget this all by the morning.

You’re quiet as the driver continues on. By the time you get to your street, you’re sure Bucky’s fallen asleep. You’re worried about getting him back to his place. As you get close to your house, you point the driver to the house right beside your own. That’ll be easier.

To your surprise, Bucky sits up and lets out a sleepy grumble. You thank the driver as your neighbour grabs onto your hand and tugs you towards his side as he opens the door. You let him and he clings to you as the uber leaves you in the shadow of the Barnes’ abode.

“Let’s go to bed,” he pulls you towards the walkway.

“Bucky,” you utter, “uh, Mr. Barnes?”

Is he that drunk? He must not realise you’re not his wife. You look around. You don’t see her car. That explains his little boys’ night. She’s probably visiting family again so he’s all alone.

“Hey,” you laugh unevenly as he drags you up onto the porch. He’s very strong. “Mr. Barnes, it’s me.”

He stops and sways. He squints at you and feels his pockets, jangling his keys through the fabric. He steadies himself and grins. His eyes hold yours, drowning you in pools of oceanic blue.

“I know,” he says soberly, “it’s you.”

You stare at him in confusion, blinking as he slides his hand into his pocket. You glance over your shoulder at the dark siding of your parents’ house. You face him again as he pulls his keys out but drops them between his shoes. You put your phone in your purse and shift the bag to rest on your hip.

“I should– oop,” you look down, “Mr. Barnes,” you bends to grab the keys, “alright, I’ll just get you inside and head home.” You stand up and hold up his keys, “which one?”

He points to the square gold one and you shove it into the slot. You push the door inward and gesture him ahead of you. He shuffles over the threshold, tripping before barely catching himself on the frame. You follow him in and look around cautiously. You’ve never been inside.

“Let’s get you to the couch, Mr. Barnes,” you grab his arm as he wobbles, “you just need to sleep this off–”

You tug on his arm but he doesn’t budge. Once more, all unsteadiness fades and he’s suddenly immovably still. He turns his head slowly and puts his hand over yours.

“I told you,” he faces you as he guides your hand up his arm, “it’s Bucky.”

“Um, alright, uh–”

He backs you up and you collide with the door, the impact forcing it shut. You gulp and press yourself against the inside as he pens you in, clutching your hand to his shoulder. The beer on his breath mingles with the citrusy scent that cloys from him.

“Mr. Barnes, what–”

“Shhh,” his hand slips from your and he grips your chin, “it’s okay–”

“St–”

He smothers your protest with a kiss. You’re too stunned to do more than flatten yourself against the door. His grip makes your jaw ache as his other hand crawls up your thigh. You squirm and push against his shoulder with a whine.

He doesn’t relent. He pushes his foot between yours, edging them apart as he picks your fly open. You curl your fingers, jabbing your nails into him. He growls but doesn’t stop.

You turn your head, forcing your mouth away from his.

“Mr. Barnes… Bucky, please–”

He hushes you again as his hand falls from chin to throat. He squeezes, crushing out any hope of screaming for help. He nuzzles into the side of your neck, his nose tickling the line of your jaw. You whimper as his hand delves beneath the cotton of your panties.

His fingertips brush along your trimmed vee of hair and he swirls the short curls with a purr. He extends his middle finger, feeling along your folds and dipping between. He flicks his finger back and forth, exploring you until he finds your clit. He rolls his finger, stoking a heat beneath his touch.

You wriggle and trail your hand down his arm, gripping his wrist as you fight him. You’re too weak. You croak through your tight throat as you try to fight the swirling tide building with the friction of his roughened fingertip. This can’t be happening.

He’s drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not like this.

A million thoughts race with as many sensations. You stand on your toes as your muscles knots and the tension coils in your core. You shouldn’t feel like this. This is wrong. This isn’t real. Your eyes roll back and you hide behind your eyelids.

His finger glides as you slicken against him. He quickens his pace, toying with you as he breathes against your neck, puffing damply as his hand remains firm on you. He keeps you pinned as he goads your body on, fueling a fire you’ve never lit before.

You squeak as you twitch without permission. You succumb to the brewing storm, blown away in the whirlwind as your mind is stifled by your body. You gulp and gasp, your hand slipping down to his chest as your other falls away from his arm.

“You’re so sexy,” he purrs as he lets you go.

You brace yourself against the door, breathless and paralysed as you watch him raise his hand. He presses his fingertips to his mouth and you see the glisten on them. He pushes them inside and sucks them clean with a growl.

“And so sweet, baby,” he steps forward, crowding you again.

The afterglow has you helpless. He feels along your side as his other hand wanders down your leg. He pulls your knee up and brings himself flush to you. He bends his knees as he presses his crotch into yours. You murmur at the hot weight between you. 

He curls his arm around your neck and your head lolls back. He bows to kiss you, devouring you as he slowly rocks his hip. A fiery heat builds between the layers of fabric, the friction of your seam rubs you through the damp cotton of your panties.

He gasps into your mouth as his pace quickens. The door shifts and squeaks with his motion as he pounds you into it, hips pumping as his bulge pokes through his jeans rigidly. Your head droops to the side and his wet lips smear over your cheek. He bites into your ear lobe and snarls.

Another tickle flares and you moan. A small burst that has you just as senseless. Your delight leaks onto your panties, spreading to the edges.

“Mmmmm,” he hums and releases the pinch of his bite, “fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me go– right in my–” he chokes as his fingertips sink into the bottom of your thigh and he pulls your leg higher, “jeans–”

He shakes and lets out a long rattle, sprinkled with deep groans and soft mewls. He leans into you completely and shudders, stilling at last. He sinks down with you, bringing you to straddle him as his knees meet the floor.

You heave and lift your head, gaping at him as his eyelids droop sleepily. He smiles, the expression crinkling around his eyes. He leans in and kisses you again, nibbling on your lower lip before pulling away.

“I won’t tell your mom about that either, kitten.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #one shot #mcu #marvel #au #silverfox au #captain america #avengers #winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part nine❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: After the events from the other day, you try and cope with the reality of what happened. The world is a lot less colorful than you remember. Bucky helps comfort you after you realize you have no one left.

♡ Warnings: heavy angst, flashbacks, abuse, mentions of parent death, hints to depression, reader doesn't know she has depression, anxiety attacks

Series Masterlist

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au

Italics are flashbacks

“I don’t know… I kinda like shirts that don’t hug me too tight.” You mumbled, scratching the back of your neck.

You heard a dramatic gasp, and you looked into her eyes as she shook her head, holding up the top she had been trying to convince you to buy.

“Babygirl— why can’t you see how gorgeous you are. Anything you wear, you’d make look like a million bucks.” You Mother almost whined, and you couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips from her antics.

“Ma you know that’s not true.” You argued, failing at keeping a serious expression.

“No baby— I know I’m right. That’s my secret.” She argues back confidently.

She walked closer and started combing stray hairs out of your eyes, smiling at you adoringly as she did so. Her eyes practically sparkled with love.

“What’s your secret Ma?” You asked quietly, leaning into your Mother’s delicate touch.

She cupped your chin and raised your face to her lips, the feeling of her pecking your forehead sweetly. The gesture made you all warm inside— her love filling you with so much protection.

“Mommies never lie. So you really are beautiful baby— and soon you’ll start to see that, and you’ll be breaking hearts left and right.” She spoke quietly to you.

“I won’t be breaking any hearts… because that means I’ll have to date people and well… that’s scary.” You admitted.

Your Mother lifted your chin back up, giving you another loving kiss on your forehead, stroking your cheek as if you were fragile and needed to be protected. In her eyes— you were her everything. Her little girl— she only wished you could live your life without any pain. She knew life wasn’t that perfect— but she’d do anything for her baby. She’s try as hard as she could to make her life perfect. She deserved it.

“It is scary baby, but if you never put yourself out there— you may never have the chance to meet people.” She cooed. “We learn a lot from everyone we meet, and if you don’t meet anyone— you won’t learn anything. It helps us grow into being a better person.”

You nodded in understanding, feeling comforted by her words. She believed that you could do it, so you started to believe you could. Your Mother truly did know best— she’d never put you in a bad situation. As much as you hated to admit it, she was almost always right.

“You’re so smart Ma. I’m glad I've got a Mama as good as you around.” You whispered as you hugged her tightly— forgetting that you were at the mall.

Her laugh vibrated through her chest as your head lay against her heart.

“You know your compliments always go straight to my head.” She joked and you snorted and playfully hit her hip.

“I’ll take it back.” You playfully warned.

“Please don’t— we were having such a nice moment.” She whined dramatically and you both went into a laughing fit.

The air was so cool— so breathable. Your limbs felt relaxed, your mind was at ease. Everything was so much easier with your Mother around, she truly was the light of your life.

"Okay, I'll get it." You finally gave in, pointing to the shirt that was hanging off her arm.

Your Mother eyes brightened and she smiled like the chesire cat, almost starting to jump up and down like a little kid. You forgot who was the older one sometimes. You just watched with a giggle.

"That's my girl." She ruffled your hair and headed towards the cashier.

You watched her walk away, happy that you could make her happy. Although the top wasn't what you'd usually wear— maybe your Mother was right. It was time to get out of your comfort zone— plus she was never wrong.

~

You cracked your eyes open at the sound of rain hitting your window, the peaceful ambience of a storm passing over the house. You let out a deep breath, a heavy feeling left sitting on your chest— the bittersweet memory still fresh in your mind. It was sweet because even the memory of your Mother could fill your body with the joy that you had been missing from life. Although it was bitter because they were only memories. Instead of staying in the moment with her, you were forced to be sent back into reality. Back to a world where she wasn't around anymore. That was the most painful realization you had to live through every day.

The days since her passing had been the same, but it was slightly different this time around. You were almost positive that because of the relationship between you and your Father was getting worse— had you desperately wishing to have your Mother back.

You wondered if it would've been easier to never know parental love, then live most of your life with it— then to not have it.

You hadn’t realized you had slept through the night, misjudging how exhausted your kind and body was. There was just a slight glow from outside, otherwise the sky was cloudy— the weather gloomy. The outside was currently how you felt, it seemed.

Glancing around the room, there was no sign of him. Which was the second thing that had come to your mind this morning. Bucky.

Pushing that thought to the side, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed— heading towards the bathroom. Your head felt heavy, your limbs feeling like there were wights tied to them. You overall felt like the walk to the bathroom was much harder than it should’ve been. You had hoped that a nights rest would ease the haze that covered your brain. But as you walked to the bathroom— you could still sense the thick fog within your head.

Switching on the light, you headed straight for the mirror without giving it much thought. You’d be lying if you said your reflection didn’t startle you. In fact the harder you looked— you doubted that was actually you.

Your eyes were puffy, red rimmed as they were the night before. Your lips were chapped, achey with how dry they were. All in all— it was the still irritated skin on your cheek that had you in shock. The palm sized mark had you staring without blinking— your breathing starting to come in rapidly. Almost instantly, the events from the night before began to play through your mind.

"You wonder why I don't want you around— do you not see how you act? Disrespectful fucking brat! I do all these nice things for you— I buy you a fucking house! I provide you with everything you need!"

The memory of his hand shooting towards your face had you flinching back in the space of your bathroom. The action startling you from just remembering.

You furrowed your brows, staring at your reflection in confusion. Puzzled at your body's reaction— the way you had jumped. Even though you were alone in the bathroom— you felt embarrassed. Your hand shot down to grip your thigh, squeezing the flesh until you could start to feel pain. Your nose burned again, your chest tight and uncomfortable— unable to expand fully. You gasped, almost breaking from this trance as you released your thigh— glancing down frantically at the now red and irritated skin. Your head felt fuzzy as you couldn't understand why you were acting like this. You felt like you were out of control of your body— your mind. You wiped your face harshly, drying your skin of any tears— any evidence that you had been a mess.

Without wasting another second, you headed from the bathroom and made your way downstairs— in search of Bucky.

Bucky had made himself comfortable in the grand office downstairs. The room seemingly untouched, obvious that you didn’t care for this room. That much didn’t surprise him. But what did shock him— was the stash of liquor that was kept inside the study.

Surely that wasn’t yours. He thought to himself.

He had sat by your bedside, guarding the room as you slept for awhile. After you started to mumble in your sleep— that’s when he decided to leave. He knew you’d want him to be there when you woke, but the words about your Mother escaping your lips seemed private. It felt wrong to over hear such information while you were unconscious.

He also just needed to excuse himself, needing to drown his thoughts with alcohol for awhile. His career let alone his life— was in jeopardy.

He didn’t want to fear Pierce— but he couldn’t stop the overwhelming waves of anxiety from crashing into him. Amongst everything else, you stuck out in his thoughts. Majority of his worries circled around you, the concerns about you being left alone— with Pierce. If it wasn’t his life he was worried about, it was you. He was only afraid of the outcome because if there was no him— he wouldn’t be able to protect you.

It continued to eat away at him— he knew he should do something. He let the thought pass by… I should run.

He raised the glass, downing the rest of the contents— enjoying the burn on his throat as he scoffed at the cowardly thought.

He’d would run for you… with you.

He stared at the empty glass as he attempted to digest the idea. Knowing deep down he wouldn’t be able to make a proper decision without talking with you.

“James?” You called out, grabbing his attention to the doorway.

You didn’t even attempt to send him one of your usual warm smiles, instead glancing around the room you completely forgot existed. For good reason.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked, but soon found your answer when you let your eyes drop to the bottles of liquor surrounding his empty glass. “It’s early.”

You pointed out, and Bucky lowered his gaze for a moment in shame before lifting his eyes to your face again. This was when he noticed how different you looked.

It was the little, subtle changes that no one else could distinguish. But he could— he could see it clear as day, and it broke his heart.

Your eyes were dull, missing the usual sparkle in them. Your face just seemed like it was longer, the way you didn’t even try to keep a smile on your face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you so… not you. Lastly, what killed him the most— was the way you were standing. The way you were trying to seem so small, like you could be small enough to hide away from everyone.

“James?” You called again, breaking him from his analysis of you. It was then he realized he hadn’t responded.

“Uh… yeah guess I’m just a little stressed out.” He finally told you, not completely lying.

“You shouldn’t do that— it can cause a lot of issues.” You motioned towards the alcohol.

“I know.” He mumbled, lowering his gaze to the desk again.

“You should just talk to me, instead of drinking until you pass out.” You told him softly.

“I can hold my liquor well.” He tried to argue, glancing up and sending you a smirk.

You just shook your head, crossing your arms like you were a mom scolding her kid.

“I don’t care. You should still talk to me.” You told him sternly.

He couldn’t ignore the shock in your change in demeanor. Of course you’d be in a different mood from the events last night— but he wasn’t used to this solemn version of you yet.

“Okay.” He agreed finally, standing up to head towards another room— preferably one that didn’t hold as much negativity as this one.

You surprised him by reaching out to take his hand, holding it tightly in yours. You didn’t give him a second to show his shock— instead you held on, tugging him towards the direction of the library.

He hadn’t even talked with you yet, but somehow he already felt lighter— in a better mood. Just by your presence, let alone your touch— was enough.

Making your way through the library— hand in hand— you didn’t slow until you reached your spot. The same spot from the very first introduction you two shared. One that didn’t have that good of an ending.

The memory although had a sour end, you still looked back and wanted to smile. You two had no idea what was coming— so naive. Like you said— it almost made you want to smile. Almost.

“James, why are you drinking this early in the morning? I know you’ve got something on your mind.” You started, as soon as you two sat down in your spots.

He rolled his eyes, avoiding your stare. He knew you were right, but also he just didn’t want to have this talk. Though— he knew it needed to happen. He just wished he could have one more care free day. He hated himself for not enjoying them while they lasted.

“Doll, we know what’s going to happen.” He voiced lowly, body and mind defeated.

You flashed a fearful expression before attempting to harden your features back.

“What do you mean?” You asked him cautiously.

“I spoke wrongly to your Father— everything that happened yesterday… you know how this ends for me.” He hinted, hoping you’d understand.

You shook your head, while still glancing at him with a softened expression. You don’t think you’d ever seen Bucky so stressed, his face stuck in a concerned expression.

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“(Y/n)… your Father doesn’t give a shit about me! For all I know— he probably has a new bodyguard ready for you. I’ll be as good as gone soon!” He exclaimed, voice raising— but it was Bucky. You weren’t afraid of him like you were your Father.

“Nothing is going to happen to you— I’ll make sure of it.” You promised him, and for a second he paused and looked at you deeply.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in his seat with a frustrated huff.

“I don’t really care what happens to me… I just don’t wanna leave you. I can’t… I can’t let him keep doing this to you.” He whispered, lowering his head— his emotions stealing his voice.

You felt your heart start to beat faster, the same butterflies fluttering around your stomach once more. Every time he protected you, made an effort to want to be with you— it had you speechless. You never knew you could find something like this again. After your Mother had passed— you thought the feeling was lost.

“We should run.” He spoke again, breaking the thick silence that had blanketed the room.

You swallowed at that suggestion, wondering why a small part of you still didn’t want to leave your Father. Although he had proved to really not care about you— love you. You still loved him. He was all you had left.

But maybe that wasn’t true anymore, here was Bucky sitting in front of you— willing to risk his life just so you could live your happy ending.

“Where will we go?” You spoke back finally, shocking him that you wanted to go along with it.

As he stared into your eyes, his stomach rolled sickeningly at the fear that was evident in your eyes. But it wasn’t fear for yourself— it was for him.

“Somewhere far away— somewhere he won’t find you. I have a few places in mind… but are you really willing to do this? Leave your home?” He asked, happy that you were on board— but still wanted to respect your decision.

You immediately thought of that one cheesy quote you’d read somewhere— not necessarily believing it until now. Home can be a person too.

You felt your nose burn, tears welling into your eyes and this time you didn’t fight it. Everything had been building ever since you’d woken up. The only place you felt safe wasn’t even your home anymore— it was him.

“This place doesn’t really feel like home anymore so… yeah I’m ready.” You admitted, your voice getting quiet by the end.

Bucky’s hand twitched on his thigh, the way his instinct was to touch you— to comfort you. He fought against the side of him that itched to jump over to you, instead he stayed rooted at his spot.

“There’s something else I need to tell you.” He started, not knowing if you were mentally ready to handle this. “Your Father has been keeping this from you for awhile, and he had asked me to keep it from you as well but— you deserve to know. I wanted to tell you so many times I just— I should’ve told you… so I’m sorry.”

You got up from your seat and plopped down next to him, not hesitating to reach out and take his metal hand in your two. Your held it comfortably while also using the metal ridges to fidget with.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry about what you should’ve done— you’re telling me now. That’s all that matters, so I appreciate that.” You assured him, scooting even closer so that your thighs were touching.

“Someone’s been stalking you (Y/n).” He finally confessed, and almost immediately he could feel the weight being lifted off his chest.

You didn’t speak for awhile, just staring at him like you weren’t sure if you imagined him saying those words. Your brain was having a hard time processing what he had said— someone was stalking you? You were disturbed, your skin crawling with fear. One thing stuck out to you the most— it was the fact that your Father had yet to tell you.

Bucky took your silence as a bad sign, watching you stare blankly at your lap, where your fidgeting hands stilled on his metal one. It was his turn to wrap his metal hand around your wrist, applying a gentle amount of pressure to try and get your attention.

“(Y/n)?” He asked softly, growing more worried the longer you stayed quiet.

You still didn’t know what you were feeling, it was hard to distinguish it when you were already overwhelmed with emotions today. Your brain felt burnt out— your mind wanting to shut off completely.

“How long?” You whispered, still staring at your lap.

“Awhile, and they’ve gotten close. They have left stuff on your doorstep— and I found it before you could see it.” He told you, watching you shiver from the information. “They found your Mother’s necklace in one of the boxes that was dropped off at your door.”

That had gotten your attention, your head snapping up to his— your eyes wide with horror. You immediately started shaking your head in denial, knowing where this was going. You felt like you were gonna be sick, so you tried to swallow back the bile from rising.

“No… No I— I know what you’re going to say! My Mother died from a car accident. That’s how she died.” You rushed out, your vision blurring with tears.

“(Y/n) I’m not saying whoever is stalking you was involved with her passing— I’m just saying that there’s something darker to this than anyone knows.” He assured you, watching you nod in understanding.

His heart hurt watching your body start to tremble, your bottom lip quivering.

“Do you have it?” You whispered ever so quietly.

“What?” Bucky asked suddenly, confused.

You faced him, grabbing onto both his hands now— needing him to ground you from spiraling. Bucky had to hold in the gasp that wanted to escape, from how close you appeared to be.

“Do you have the necklace?” You asked desperately, voice cracking, “My Father he… he wouldn’t let me keep any of my Mothers things.”

Bucky’s heart broke again, his eyes softening at your broken expression. The way you were trembling holding onto him, your eyes red rimmed and lost looking. He had never held such hatred for someone before— fucking Pierce.

“Doll, I’m sorry— he has it.”

You nodded in understanding but couldn’t hold back the new wave of tears. You didn’t hesitate, and threw yourself into his arms. Wrapping your arms right around his middle, feeling the bulky muscles flex through his clothes.

He didn’t waste anytime and engulfed you in his protective embrace. He willed himself to stay strong— for you. But your cries and shakes of your body were killing him, he swore he was feeling physical pain from it all. He wanted to take it all away— all your pain.

Both your legs hung off to the side, while you practically were sitting in his lap. But neither of you cared— yes, it was intimate. But it was intimate in a different way, you both clung onto each other— escaping for a little while just in each others embrace. Being so close now, feeling each other pressed up on another— it felt right. It felt like home.

You felt one of his hands lift to the back of your head, cradling your head as his metal fingers weaves through your hair— just slightly scratching your scalp. You could feel yourself melt further into him. Your body sagging into him.

“I’ve got you (Y/n), I’m not going anywhere.” He whispered soothingly.

“I wanna hate him.” You whimpered, your fists fisting in his shirt.

His heart clenched painfully, hating that there was nothing he could do besides be here for you at the moment. But every cry and whimper only convinced him further that he was doing the right thing— the right thing by running away with you.

“Does that make me a bad person— that I wanna hate him? I want to but… but I can’t!” You cried.

Bucky shook his head, before he realized you couldn’t see him. He pulled you back away from him so he could face you— that was also when he noticed how close you were to him.

“No it doesn’t. He hasn’t been a Father to you. He hurt you— It’s okay to wanna hate him.” He assured you.

He held your gaze, waiting until you nodded to make sure you understood what you were feeling was valid.

“I really wanna hate him…” You whimpered again, trying to lower your eyes but you knew Bucky wouldn’t allow it.

He didn’t know if there was anything he could say to truly make you feel better, but he hoped that his comforting embrace was helping. Little did you know— your tight hold on him was ridding him of any and all stress.

“I know (Y/n), I know.” He breathed out.

Before he could stop himself, he was lifting his hand to stroke his thumb across her cheek— letting his palm rest on your jaw.

Your eyes fluttered shut from his touch for a second, before they opened and gazed deeply into his. His eyes shined with something unusual— something you had yet to see coming from his eyes. You felt intimidated from the intensity that was his gaze— the way your stomach fluttered nervously. You felt the same urge as before, your body leaning instinctively closer to him— you felt so safe in his arms, you couldn't help yourself from wanting to sink deeper into the ocean that was him.

"(Y/n)..." His voice broke through your trance, "Maybe we shouldn't."

God he wanted to slap himself for even voicing those words, because he so badly wanted to devour you whole— loosen every thread that was tied on you— unlocking every inch and part of you that he didn't know he craved. But the sensible side of him knew it wasn't the right moment... right?

You were so vulnerable, it felt wrong for him to even steal a glance in the wrong way when your walls were crumbled before him. He didn't want you to think for even a second that he was taking advantage of you. He respected you greatly, and he was not going to allow himself to have no self restraint. He wanted you to be in full control— and even then he felt hesitant to let you continue. The kiss on his cheek from before, he felt he hadn't deserved that— earned that. He was greedy however— and took any breadcrumbs he could.

You only darted your eyes down to his lips, watching his tongue poke out to wet them— your eyes watching the pink dampen the plump flesh. You found yourself biting your own lip— a sudden craving intensifying at the sight.

Despite your desires, you leaned forward and placed another kiss to his stubbled cheek— this time letting your lips linger on the skin longer than the last. Bucky could feel the heat rush to his face, knowing his cheeks were most likely bright red. He didn't know how he held so much power, but the feel of your lips against his cheek— god he wanted to kiss you so badly.

You sent him a small smile, and he could almost see the real you finally coming to light. The sight had his heart swelling, his own lips curving up in a cheerful smile— relived to see his girl coming back.

"Thank you James— I don't know what I'd do without you." You whispered, holding his gaze with hidden devotion. "I need you."

He had to fight back the huge smile he felt approaching from your words— he tried to ignore the bubbling joy he felt from your words. The way you needed him just as he needed you.

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