#bucky barnes x plus size reader
Not to brag but the playlist I made for my story "Love in the suburbs" is pretty good 😍 but maybe I'm biased 😂
If you want to check it out, go to my Ig carrot.writes 💜
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Smut scene from my story Love in the Suburbs
the corner of his mouth turned up "I want you here", my face turned red as I giggled. I leaned in brushing his lips with mine, as he leaned in I moved my head back, teasing him, he smirked and cupped the back of my neck and crashed his lips in mine, biting on them, making me gasp as I move my hands to his hair, playfully tugging it, his hands moved from my hips to my voluptuous ass, he carried me in one swift movement "I'm not too heavy?" I asked breathlessly breaking the kiss, he shakes his head annoyed as he kisses me again, lust in those icy blue eyes making my breath falter, he pushes me against the wall as I wrap my legs around him "we're not doing this here are we?" I moaned as he placed wet kisses down my neck, I tried to focus and make him stop but suddenly I felt his bulge on my very core, all bets were off, he desperately shoves down my biker shorts, and pulled my panties aside his cold metal hand circling my clit, with one hand I held on to him as my other hand pulled down his sweat pants, his hardened limb resting on my stomach, he ripped of my sports bra, exposing my bouncing breasts, his mouth sucking on my nipple, groaning as I guided his red tip into my entrance, my walls stretching out adjusting to him "you feel fucking good" he moaned as he thrusted making me gasp, my hands holding on to him, his hips moving against yours on a steady pace, our lips meet again, hungry and desperate, moaning into them, the sound of our sweaty bodies clasping together, he moves to the perfect angle, hitting that spongy spot "f-fuck Bucky" I whine in his ear, hearing me say his name like that, takes him over the edge "let loose for me doll" he pants as his movements go faster, I clamp around his cock, digging my nails into his back, releasing white hot pleasure, him following after, pulling out of me and gently letting my legs drop, now holding me by the waist, soft lazy kiss on my lips, "you owe me a sports bra" I chuckled while pulling his up his shirt and putting it on me.
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To Be Wanted - Part 1: The Cat in the Alley
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (plus-sized)
Summary: All your life you have wanted to be loved by someone. But when you don’t look like most “beautiful” women, you learn to stop wanting. You’d never expect someone like the amazing, kind, beautiful Bucky Barnes would desire someone like you.
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: I am very new to writing fic so I am going to try to make this into a series! Eek! Please bear with me. This story started with me looking through my Timehop and just feeling all the sad feelings looking back on memories that I knew brought heartbreak. I hope that writing this will help me heal from shit and learn to love myself. With that, a quick warning that this fic does deal with some self-loathing about being plus-sized so if you do read please be kind to yourself like I am learning to. Thanks for reading. <3
You’re not sure when you lost hope in the idea of men finding you attractive.
It was a slow progression, each mini heartbreak from a rejection building up until you had grown completely numb. At least, that’s what you told yourself. You didn’t always feel numb when a guy you liked ended up pursuing a friend. Even though you anticipated it, there was still a sting like salt to a wound. You just tried to pretend that the wound was an old scar that couldn’t reopen.
Looking at your Timehop, seeing social media sub-posts or photos of former crushes, recalling them messaging you asking to hook you up with your blond, beautiful, skinny best friend. Acting as the third wheel on dates so that person A and person B could hang out without it feeling awkward. The guy from college who would hang out in your dorm until late hours of the night and then complain to your friends behind your back that you had a crush on him and that he was disgusted by the idea. Even though they didn’t seem that grossed out that one night he invited you to his room to watch a movie that you don’t remember actually watching.
I mean, why would they like you and your societally hated appearance? Your plus-sized body that doesn’t even fit the big boobs, big butt standards. Just a weird shape with no redeeming qualities. Sure, your personality was great and you were the funniest one in your group (your preferred armor has always been humor), but men don’t focus on that in the beginning. It’s like you have to earn their attraction to you when it comes so easily for other women.
It was way easier to be here, on the internet, scanning through fics on Tumblr or AO3 and escaping to a world where you were “you,” the heroine of every story that the chosen romantic counterpart (your favorite one being Avenger Bucky Barnes) thought was the most amazing, brilliant, beautiful woman to ever exist.
It was a nice change of pace. To be wanted. To be desired.
To be loved.
Even if it wasn’t real.
So now, in your late twenties, instead of online dating (where men say that “most women don’t consider themselves hookup gals until they’ve met the right guy.” Yikes.), or going out on the weekends where you spend the whole night comparing yourself to all of the beautiful, skinny girls in crop tops and mini skirts, you spend your nights here. Alone, fantasizing about a life that will never be yours.
You could spend your life like this, you thought. You could focus on friends, family, work, your cat Willa, and live in a make believe world written by someone else to experience romance.
You never thought that the fanfic would turn into real life.
Bucky was going to kill Sam.
Yes, they had just saved the world from another catastrophic event and Sam officially claimed the shield and the identity of Captain America and Bucky would now consider him to be his best friend, but that didn’t make it so that he didn’t want to throttle him every once in a while.
Like now, while he has another photo of a random woman pushed to his face.
“Come on, man! How about her? She’s beautiful, a nurse, and does archery! She sounds awesome! And it says she’s a sucker for men with blue eyes.” He nudges Bucky’s arm with his elbow.
Bucky pushes the phone away and groans. “Man, can you please just let this go! I’m not interested in her. Not interested in anyone!”
It was true. Bucky had tried the dating apps for a few months and gone on a few dates, but nothing ever came from them. First of all, it was hard to convince his dates that he really did prefer wearing a leather jacket and gloves at all times. Then the panic would set in about what would happen when he did finally take those off in front of them. He could picture their looks of horror as they stared at his giant metal arm. Yeah, that doesn’t really scream romance.
There was also the whole being brainwashed by Nazis and held in an ice box for 70 years in order to prolong your life and do their bidding. Bucky was finally starting to heal from all of the trauma caused by that horrific time as the Winter Soldier, but he still found it hard to connect emotionally with someone nowadays.
So yes, though this woman was beautiful and very intriguing and Bucky could totally imagine his old self taking her out for dancing, he had zero interest in pursuing anything with her or anyone else. He was finally starting to enjoy the life he had now and was starting not to hate himself. He wanted to have the time to appreciate it while he could before making it complicated….again.
“Okay okay, fine.” Sam whined, taking back his phone and pressing a few more buttons. “...but what about this one? CEO of her own startup company…”
“That’s it,” Bucky exclaims, getting up from the couch and walking towards the door. “If I come back to another photo of a woman on your phone, I’m crushing it with my vibranium arm and throwing it out the window.”
Bucky could hear Sam cackling as he shut the door and headed outside.
You were going to kill Willa.
I mean, seriously? You thought the two of you had an understanding that inside your apartment was the only place the cat could stay. Never outside. SOMETIMES you would let her hang out on the fire escape with you, but only under your supervision and on a leash.
So the fact that she chooses this moment (right before you’re about to head out for a meeting you’ve been preparing for for months) to sneak through your legs, down the five flights of stairs and through the open door of the entrance building to your apartment as your neighbor walks inside is a huge breaking of trust.
You run after her and onto the sidewalk, frantically looking left and right to see where she headed.
“Willa, come ON,” you yell out into the street, out of breath from running down the stairs while trying not to break your ankles in your wedge-heels. “I do not have time for this!!!”
You see a small black figure dart down the alley from across the street and run after her.
Unfortunately, you’re too focused on rescuing your cat from the monstrous rats that dwell in the alleys of New York City to notice the car that is driving down the street and about to hit you.
You actually only have half a second to pause and reflect on this error in judgment and moment of impending death before the wind is knocked out of you and you’re being pulled out of the way and onto the ground.
But instead of the ground, you’ve landed on something, someone. Your face is resting on the black t-shirt covering an extremely solid chest, and you’re wondering if you landed on a statue instead of a person. When you look up, however, your gaze meets ice blue eyes filled with concern that shifts into relief, and just a bit of annoyance.
Bucky is trying to even out his breathing after the sudden adrenaline rush. Relief floods over him when he sees that you’re okay and not pinned underneath the tires of a Subaru. He looks down at you and into your eyes, which are half closed in a daze.
You quickly move to stand up while frantically saying, “Oh my gosh, thank you so much. I’m so sorry I didn’t-” you apparently got up a little too quickly because now the world is spinning and you feel as if you’re about to actually hit the pavement this time. Luckily, the strong arms that had saved you before grab you once again to steady you.
“Easy,” Bucky says, holding onto you as you ground yourself. “Unfortunately I had to throw you out of the situation in a pretty rough way and I’m sure your brain is still trying to catch up.”
He quickly looks you up and down to see if there are any cuts or marks on from the fall. Luckily, your emerald green floral sundress has no tears, and you only have a small cut on the palm of your hand that unfortunately landed on the pavement and not on Bucky’s body like every other part of you did. He keeps telling himself that he’s staring into your eyes to make sure they aren’t glassy or unfocused, signifying some head trauma from being whipped around by a super soldier. But, honestly, he’s just struggling to look away from them, entranced by the way they seem to sparkle. Has he ever seen eyes do that before? He can’t seem to remember.
Finally, his stupor breaks and he asks, “What were you doing running across the street like that?”
Suddenly, you remember. “Oh god,” you exclaim, “Willa!” You move away from him and run toward the alley
Bucky’s brows furrow as he turns to follow you, running at a slightly slower gate. “Willa?’ he asks.
“My cat! She escaped my apartment and has never been outside and the rats are going to get her!”
He frowns, “...the rats?”
“You know, street rats! And not like Aladdin. The giant rodents that lurk in the alley waiting for their next prey. They could get her!”
Bucky ignores the Aladdin reference that goes completely over his head and looks around the alley for said Willa. “What does she look like?”
You stop running and walk through, scanning every single surface in an effort to find her. “She’s a black cat, pretty small and thin. Looks like an anxious mess.”
Bucky mutters under his breath, “I wonder where she gets it from.”
You look over your shoulder at him and give you your iconic glare. Mom says it reminds her of the look your grandmother used to give her when it was a kid. And boy howdy does it work. Bucky feels like a kid in trouble while at the receiving end of this look and continues the search.
The nice thing in this instance about being a super soldier is the ability to hear every minute sound that is often missed by normal human hearing, and Bucky picks up a soft noise just a few feet ahead of you. He walks past, hyper-focused, and stops just past a pile of trash bags.
There, he finds a small black cat playing with a balled-up newspaper. He silently waves you over, not wanting to startle Willa into sprinting farther down the alley.
You slowly walk up to your feline friend, holding out your hand. “Willa,” you chirp in your most lovey-dovey cat voice. “Come here, love.”
Willa turns around and is about to make a run for it when you jump into action and grab her little body, securing her into a tight hold in your arms you’ve learned to master in the three years of owning her. Though she originally seemed to want to flee from you, she purrs loudly in your arms.
You turn back to Bucky, who appears impressed by your speed and agility. “Well,” he says, “looks like you got to her before the street rats could. Although her run-in with that piece of trash seemed a bit treacherous.”
You laugh, and to his surprise, Bucky’s heart flutters at the sound of it. It was so soft, so warm, so….lovely. “Thank you,” you respond. “For helping me find her and, well, saving my life. I promise I’m not this much of a mess.” That was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that.
“No problem. I mean, please don’t run across the street in front of a car again, but I’m happy that I was there to hurl your body to safety.” He gently reaches his hand out to Willa, who nudges her head against it. Bucky smiles. He’s always had a soft spot for cats. You swear that for a second your heart stops at the sight of this beautiful man smiling in front of you.
That moment gets interrupted by the memory of that moment from a few minutes ago flashes into your head and you grimace. It horrifies you to think of your large body crashing on top of his. “Speaking of which, are you okay?” He’s wearing a leather jacket and gloves (in the middle of July….okay, dude) so you can’t see if he has any scrapes from the fall.
Bucky shakes his head. “Nope, I’m totally fine.” He holds up his arms to prove that there are no visible tears in his clothing or cuts on him. “This jacket is indestructible. It’s saved me from a couple of spills on my bike and still doesn’t have a mark on it.” Shuri had given it to him as a gift a few years ago for the first Christmas after everyone had returned from the blip. She had casually mentioned that she had been experimenting with turning regular clothing into armor, and Bucky had certainly put her work to the test. This thing had even taken a few bullets and it still looked brand new.
You allowed yourself two glorious seconds to imagine yourself riding on the back of his motorcycle with him in that jacket and then forced yourself back to reality. “Okay, well, thank you again. You’re literally a lifesaver.” Willa starts squirming in your arms trying to break free. “I should get this lady inside before the rats arrive. Oh! What time is it?”
Bucky glances at his watch. “Five minutes to 2.”
“Shit,” you exclaim, rushing back to your apartment. “I’m so sorry I have to run. I have a meeting at 2. Definitely going to be late now.” You groan as you run to the edge of the sidewalk. Before you cross, you make a point to stop, look both ways, and head to the other side to the entrance of your apartment. You can hear Bucky chuckle behind you.
Once he’s sure that you have safely made it into your apartment building, Bucky continues his way down the street.
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I am very excited for chapter 9, one scene in particular, as I wrote it I got CHILLS 😩 and 🥴 so chill anyways read my story 😂❤️
I'll post post part of a Smut scene so u guys can see what you're missing out on 😉
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Guysguysguys I’m well rested enough to start writing so if anyone has any requests lmk!! I’d mainly write for Bucky but I’m open to most other mcu characters :))
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Just posted Chapter 8!!🥰 How will Jo's first mission turn out?
Everyday I fall more and more in love with Jo 😂😩
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12 C - Part 1
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James Buchanan Barnes has moved into an decent apartment and is more than content to show up to his mandated therapy appointments, try to make amends, and ignore Sam Wilson.
Then he moved across the hall from a loud and nosy artist.
. . .
He kind of likes it.
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Marvel Characters- They Love Your Tummy
Various Marvel characters and how they love your tummy
Steve is gonna think your tummy is the cutest gosh darn thing in the world. Every time your t-shirt rides up slightly, he's gonna have to bite his tongue to keep from squealing in delight. Dress clings to your stomach? He thinks it's absolutely precious. If you don't like people touching you there he's gonna be respectful, of course, but goddamn is it gonna be hard when he just wants to show you how much he loves you.
Can and will poke at you with various implements. Not even just your tummy, anywhere he can reach, but it's a gentle reminder of 'hi, I'm here, you're here' and poking your stomach happens to be a way for him to get close to you without seeming like he was missing being close to you.
He knows that you sometimes don't like your tummy touched, so it's such a display of trust when you do. This is especially important when you let him touch you with his metal arm, the arm that has squeezed the trigger and the life out of people more times than he can count. He treasures those moments. However, with his flesh arm plus a mischevious mood? You're gonna get tickled, I'm sorry.
Your tummy is her safe space, where she can rest her head and feel like if you're here, nothing can go wrong. She's gonna plant the occasional kiss on your skin, expect many kisses if you're feeling insecure. She won't stand for any slander against any part of you, and will murmur praise against you- if she's feeling flirty, she will playfully nip at your stomach, leaving delicate little bites in the wake of her lips.
Wanda is a cuddlebug and I will hear nothing to the contrary- her hands wrapped around you while your face is at the perfect height for her to kiss incessantly? She is A-Okay with that. Hands running over you, over your waist, your hips, your tummy, and she's gonna smile when she smoothes her hands over the skin of your stomach. She would use it as a reminder to ask when you last ate, and if you haven't? She's gonna drag you to the kitchen and make you cook with her.
He adores the way your tummy looks, forever dressing you up in some of his Midguardian clothes to see how they look on you. Seeing his love flaunting themselves proudly in his clothes when he knows they might be insecure otherwise? Just about his favourite thing, ever.
Maybe he's not that into physical affection, but he'll never, ever admit that when it's just the two of you, lying in bed, late at night when everyone else is asleep and his head is down by your waist, face buried in your stomach? It's his favourite time, your hands in his hair as he places careful kisses along your skin, whispering promises you can barely even hear.
requested by @lilacprincessofrecovery thank you for the request! if anyone wants a part two with more characters, then you're more than welcome to ask!!
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In today's chapter Jo and Steve will work together! Will they finally get along or are things gonna get worse? 😥
Find out later today! 💜
I'll let you know when I post the new chapter 🥰
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Marvel fans! I call upon you to read my seggsy fan fiction, it's not shitty and I would really appreciate it if you could check it out 😂🙏🥺
Let me know what u think 💜
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Life Without Colour (PART SEVEN)
Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.
Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader
Warning: descriptions of violence, death, gunshot, blood, break in, bad guys, swearing, angst, dramatic
Note; hope u like it! this is OVER 8000 words!!!!!!
Taglist: @domainoflostsouls forgetthisbull handon-h-art yourspecialcrush giulsgotmusic mrsbarnes-rogers luosymekawa linzeyzarcone forgetthisbull calamityreads talgra marina-darling btsforlif lamoursansfin classic1985 lovesicksofi fandomsfallnomore thebivirgin classygladiatorcupcake lowlyapprentice mishafaye cececolbert trenchcoatedwhiskers
Hi, sweetheart. I’m writing this hurriedly just a short while before you leave so I apologise if it’s a little scattered and all over the place. If you’re reading this, it means that you have began to feel something for Bucky and that’s okay. Truly, it is okay. Please don’t blame yourself or feel guilty, I hope this letter eliminates those feelings.
When I realised that I’d need to send you and Bucky somewhere safe and secluded, I knew that I would be writing you a letter. I planned that letter out. I was going to write every single reason why I loved you and why I wanted you to stay loyal to me. I was going to tell you that growing up with Bucky caused me to feel slightly inferior because of his good looks and his charm and that I didn’t want that to be the case again. I was going to pour my heart out, asking you to stay with me and reliving our greatest hits through the past year together. It wasn’t until I sat down just a moment ago, I realised how selfish and unfair that would be of me to do to you. So, no, this letter will not be me begging and pleading you to stay with me... the opposite actually.
Right now, you are going through a high risk, highly stressful and emotional time in your life. You are in danger because of me, you are in a foreign place with someone that you only recently met and only recently discovered is your soulmate with no contact to me or the outside world and here I was, about to practically beg you to stay with me. You see, it would be so easy for me to write down and list why and how I came to fall in love with you; it would be so easy for me to ask you to stay and knowing you and knowing how fiercely loyal you are, I think you would stay had I asked... God, sweetheart, there’s a large part of me that wants to do that, that wants to beg you to choose me but I just can’t. What kind of person would I be had I sent you away knowing fine well that you would have conflicting feelings and then given you a letter begging you to ignore those feelings for your rightful soulmate? I’d be a fraud. You are going through a lot right now and I need to respect that, I need to respect how intense things are and how confusing it all is for you right now. I want to make your life as easy as possible, you might want nothing to do with Bucky and I or you might want space to figure things out...
So, (y/n), this is me writing you a letter and letting you go. Your decision is entirely your own to make and I cannot and will not have a say in that. You have to decide what you want and if you want to pursue things with Bucky then I will bow my head and take a step back. If you want to continue to be with me, I will smile and hold you tight and we can continue from where we left things. If you choose something else, I will absolutely respect that. I wish I could be with you right now, I know that you’ll be stressed out and I just want to help you, sweetheart. In order for you to make your choice, you need a clean slate so... I’m letting you so, sweetheart. I say that as though you have to pick one of us, you don’t and you certainly don’t need my permission to have feelings for Bucky but I thought this letter might help... or maybe it’ll make things more confusing. Ugh, I’m usually good with my words but I just can’t seem to get it right. What I want to say is... if you wanted to pursue things with Bucky then you have my blessing, sweetheart. You and Bucky both have my blessing and I do not want either of you to feel guilty about it because you didn’t choose for this to happen.
Bucky’s a good man, (y/n), and when he cares about someone, he will love them with his whole heart. He’s been through so much in his life and he has built his walls up so high but I know that you could help him. You are just what he needs. You are so kind, loving and caring; you’re exactly the gentle sort of person he needs right now. When he gets scared, he lashes out, ignore that, he doesn’t mean it. I’ve known Bucky a long time and I know that he’ll protect you and keep you safe so please, try to trust him and show him that he can trust you. I don’t know how Bucky feels but, sweetheart, if he’s anything like me then he would’ve fallen for you the moment he met you at Tony’s party. You don’t give yourself enough credit, sweetheart. You are so beautiful, so worth it and so goddamn important. Do not let anyone treat you as though you’re less than what you are. You don’t need my approval or Bucky’s or anyone’s, you just need your own, sweetheart. You have helped me so much, you have shown me how to trust and how to love even despite all odds and we had it good, didn’t we, sweetheart? We had a pretty good year and if that’s all we have then I will be so thankful for the rest of my life that I got to spend that little year of perfection and happiness with you. I never wanted you to be in danger and I never thought that I would have to send you away to keep you safe but I hope you know how sorry I am for causing this. I am going to make it right, I will make it right so that you can come home and be happy. You deserve so much love and happiness. Remember that you are so loved. It’s going to be hard and I cannot imagine how hard it is right now with conflicting feelings but you’re (y/n) and you are going to be okay.
I love you, you know how much I love and care about you, but I will not try and beg you to stay with me or persuade you with all of the fun times we had together (not even by retelling the story of the old man and his cat down the hall). I wish that things could have been different, I wish that Rumlow and his men hadn’t have found you but they did and I had to protect you. So, I’m letting you go, (y/n). You will always have a place in my heart and I will always love you and I will always be here to support you but I’m letting you go because that’s what needs to happen in order for you to make your decision. I don’t blame you for your feelings and I won’t blame you for the choice that you make. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, (y/n), so be happy and don’t you dare feel bad about it.
Take care of yourself, sweetheart. Take care of Bucky for me, too.
Yours with love,
Over the course of that night, you read the letter over and over again, drinking in every single letter of every single word. It felt comforting to see Steve’s writing, to have something that was familiar with the slightest hint of his cologne. The contents of the letter made you sad, made you smile but ultimately, just made you even more conflicted than you already were. He was so sweet and that just made it worse that he was so forgiving and so kind. You didn’t ask for this, you didn’t want to have feelings for Bucky at all but... you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t control your heart, you couldn’t stop the feelings even if you tried. Steve’s letter was letting you go, did that mean the two of you were broken up or on a break? Oh, god, not a Ross and Rachel situation.
You barely slept that night, mind reeling and body in a clammy sweat because of how stressed you were. You had no idea what to feel, what to think or what to do. You and Steve had been together for a year and you had only known Bucky a few weeks but still, you tossed and turned thoughts full of questions and no answers. You had sworn to yourself that you would never fall for Bucky Barnes but you couldn’t control your heart, you couldn’t force yourself to forget those feelings and you couldn’t force yourself to care for Steve more. You loved Steve, you were in love with Steve, you weren’t in love with Bucky... were you? You had strong feelings for him, sure, but you hadn’t fallen in love yet. You didn’t want to hurt Steve, you really didn’t, but you felt like you couldn’t be with Steve fully if you had feelings for Bucky... You didn’t want it to be a contest like a stupid love triangle like in a stupid movie. You would rather have neither of them before you had them both competing for your love and attention. Right now, your heart still belonged to Steve and as you tried to get comfortable, you decided that your relationship was worth fighting for. Bucky was convenient because he was here and you were lonely and you kind of latched onto that but it wouldn’t work, it wouldn’t last because you were too different. Steve was the safe choice, the comfortable choice.
You tossed the blanket off of you and frowned at the ceiling. It was as you went to get out of bed that you heard a yell from Bucky’s room. Quickly, you shot upwards and rushed out of the bedroom, throwing Bucky’s bedroom door open and turning the light on. He on the floor, legs tangled in the knitted blanket, a thin sheen of sweat coated his torso as he panted and looked up at you. He looked so different than usual, he looked... sad, broken? He looked lost. He’d had another nightmare. You gave a breath of relief as you saw him awake, terrified but awake and alive.
“I woke you up?” He asked, breathing heavy as he focused on his hands, counting them once, twice and three times; a tactic that kept him grounded and made him come back to reality instead of focusing on his nightmare.
You shook your head, “I couldn’t sleep.”
“What was that one about?”
Bucky puffed out a long breath before answering you, “My Winter Soldier days. This one was a memory of a man I killed a long time ago. He didn’t deserve it, he wasn’t my target... he was just in the way.”
“Oh.” You swallowed, “Are you okay?”
Bucky rubbed at his face tiredly, “Yeah, I’m amazing.” Sarcastic bugger. Your face fell and Bucky quickly realised that now wasn’t a time to be a dick, “Sorry. I’ll be okay. You don’t have to stay, honestly, I’ll be fine.”
You watched him with narrow eyes before disappearing out of the room. Bucky frowned, thinking it was a little weird that you’d go back to bed without so much as a goodbye. It wasn’t until a minute later, you came back carrying two glasses of water that he realised you weren’t leaving at all, “Drink,” you urged him as you handed him the water, “My mom always told me that drinking water after a bad dream or nightmare would cleanse your mind and make you sleep better. Load of crap but it’s a placebo effect so just drink up.”
Bucky gave a small laugh before he took a long drink. He was glad that you came back, despite what he had said, he hated being alone after having a nightmare. It was nice to have company. You walked around him and climbed onto his untouched bed as you sipped your own water. He barely managed to hide his surprise at you so casually hopping onto his bed, “Can I ask why you were awake at this time?” He asked.
You faltered and decided to opt for something that wasn’t a lie but wasn’t the full truth either, “I couldn’t seem to shut my mind off... too much going on in there tonight,” you tapped the side of your head once before taking another sip of water. It was then that Bucky was very aware that he only had a pair of boxers on, it seemed like you hadn’t even noticed. He sat up straighter, pulling the blanket around himself. “I already saw that you’re half naked, Buck. No point hiding now.” You turned away with a smirk as he pulled the blanket around himself.
Bucky tried to fight the smile but couldn’t, “You really don’t need to stay, you know.”
“I know. I don’t feel like going yet.” Bucky nodded, moving so that he was leaning against the wall, looking at you. You scooted backwards, resting against the headboard, “Tell me about Wakanda.” His eyebrow quirked in amusement but he complied.
He began to tell you about Wakanda. He told you about T’Challa and what kind of leader he was, he spoke fondly of Shuri and her intelligence, he spoke a lot about the Dora Milaje and how he trained with them most days. He spoke for ages, telling you about how Wakanda was so different to anything he could’ve imagined. He tried to tell you about the technology but then gave up half way through saying ‘I barely understood 40s tech, I don’t understand modern tech and Wakanda tech is way more advanced than tech here so I have no fucking clue but it was cool!’.
“Why did you come back to New York?” You asked, glancing over at him, “Not to sound rude, just curious.”
“It was time,” he said with a sigh, “I’d been free from the mind control of Hydra for a while and it was time to reintroduce myself to civilisation.”
You snorted a laugh, “Look where that got you. A soulmate who’s dating your best friend and now you’re stuck with me. Bet you’re glad you left Wakanda.”
Bucky sat watching you with that intense, serious stare that made you shift nervously. When he stared at you like that, you couldn’t read him; you had no idea what was going through his mind in that moment and it terrified you. You always prided yourself on being able to read other people well but with Bucky, it was near impossible. When he eventually spoke, it surprised you, “I am glad, actually.” You didn’t really know how to respond so instead you looked down to your hands. What did it mean? Did it mean that he was simply just glad to get back to normality after being in Wakanda? Did it mean that he was glad to have met you even despite the situation? Did it mean that he was glad to be here with you? You had no idea and honestly... you didn’t feel like asking for clarification. You were struggling enough with your own feelings for him, you didn’t need to confuse yourself with how he felt towards you.
It was a few moments later before you asked him something else, “Why do you get called Bucky?”
“My name is James Buchanan Barnes. I’ve always been called Bucky,” he shrugged.
“Can I call you James?”
He nodded, “If you want.”
“James Buchanan Barnes,” you mulled his name over in your mouth, seeing how it felt. Bucky didn’t know why it sounded so nice to hear you say his name, “When’s your birthday?”
“Born 10th March 1917.” The two of you were unsure as to why it was like a game of twenty questions but you were distracting yourself from the questions you had surrounding your feelings and it was distracting Bucky from thinking about his nightmares.
“God, you’re old... looking good for being over one hundred though,” you teased with a laugh. Bucky gave a quiet laugh and agreed with you. You began to ask him more questions, finding it was a good way to take your mind off of the feelings you had and the letter. The pair of you spoke about everything and nothing simultaneously. His favourite colour was blue, ‘a dark navy blue not that sky blue shit’, his favourite modern day invention was food delivery apps, ‘I can order that shit from my phone and they’ll leave it on the doorstep so I don’t even need to talk to them, amazing!’.
It was around an hour later when you lay down on the bed, “Can I sleep in here tonight?” You asked him, eyes already closed, “I don’t feel like being alone tonight.” You knew that you probably shouldn’t have. You knew it was against your better judgement but you would sleep on the bed and Bucky would sleep on the floor. You wouldn’t be near each other like that, you just needed to be near someone; you needed to know that you weren’t alone and that someone was there, even if that person turned out to be Bucky Barnes, your soulmate. You and Bucky were friends, that was it. You were friends... who were you trying to convince? Yourself?
“Actually... I don’t feel like being alone tonight either.” It was an innocent conversation but Bucky could feel the balance shifting from beneath him, the trust that was gradually being formed like stepping stones across a river. He could almost reach the other side of the river and he was nearly to you. It scared him. He didn’t trust easy, especially after Hydra, but with you... it was still scary but it felt okay, in fact, it almost felt good.
“Can you read to me?” You asked him, “I always listen to an audiobook, usually the Hobbit audiobook to sleep... I like having noise. Will you read to me?”
“I don’t really know what you just said but I’ll read The Hobbit to you.” He grabbed his copy from the beside cabinet and began to read the words to you, “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.” It felt weirdly intimate, reading to you as you slept in his bed. It felt almost too intimate and yet, Bucky still read to you. His voice was nice to listen to, deep but soft.
You breathed slowly as you let the words carry you away to sleep, “G’night... James...” you said softly before falling asleep.
Bucky faltered, glancing at you, looking at how peaceful you looked as you snored slightly before smiling and standing up. He put the book back carefully and turned the light out before moving to you. He watched you for a moment, drinking in how peaceful and quiet you were as you slept in his bed. It was innocent, two friends sharing a room because they were lonely and bored. That was all it was. You slept in the bed and he was on the floor, there was nothing sexual or creepy or romantic at all going on.
That was until Bucky lay back down, wrapping his body under the blanket and all he could think was three words. Three words that he tried to push away, tried to ignore but they came back almost screaming in his mind. He had dreaded this moment ever since seeing colour. As he lay in the dark, he succumbed to the thought and finally allowed himself to whisper it into the darkness of the night.
“I love you.”
“Do you know self defence?” Bucky asked you a day later as you both sat in the living room reading.
“Kind of?” You shrugged, “Nat taught me how to throw a basic punch. If anything was to happen, I think I would probably just cry, forget everything and run away.”
Bucky frowned thinking that it wasn’t good enough, he needed to teach you something, “Come with me.” He moved to the painting where the safe was and punched in 0407 before pulling the gun out.
Instantly, you leapt backwards, “No way in hell, Bucky!”
He rolled his eyes, “You need to know how to use it.”
“Just in case something happens.”
“If something happens, I have you to protect me!”
Bucky scoffed, “Come on, princess, what if something was to happen to me?” The nickname made an eruption of butterflies fly wildly around your stomach.
The thought of something happening to Bucky was a thought that you’d not thought of, a thought that now set alight a whole new bunch of worries, “I don’t like guns,” you whined pathetically as you followed Bucky outside and out to the great outdoors. He told you ‘tough’ before leading you out to the thick green woods where no one would hear the gunshots ring.
Despite your hesitation and your worries, you allowed Bucky to teach you the basics of the gun. He taught you about how to hold it, about making sure to turn the safety off and on, about the pull of the trigger and about how to reload if you needed to. Bucky went through all of this with you over and over until you felt confident enough to try it yourself. You fumbled at first but as you practiced unloading and reloading and making sure you were holding it correctly, it got a lot easier.
“Now, pull the trigger,” Bucky instructed.
“I don’t want to,” you said as you shook your head, “I know how to and if it comes to it, I will but right now, I don’t want to.”
Bucky stepped towards you, “What if I was a bad guy standing in front of you right now? You say that you would pull the trigger but what if you can’t? What if you freeze up?” He was standing in front of the gun, the nozzle pressing against his chest, “You have to shoot it. There will always be hesitation but you need to do it.” You shook your head again and Bucky sighed, “Please, (y/n)... I need to know that you know exactly what to do if you need to.”
You took a deep breath before sniffing and nodding, “I can’t shoot it when you’re in the way though. That’s murder.”
Bucky smirked slightly before stepping out of the way, “You know what to do?”
You nodded and took another few breaths before aiming for the tree about twenty feet in front of you. Bucky watched you carefully, he could see how much you didn’t want to do it but he admired that even though you would’ve rather have done anything besides this, you were still doing it.
You took one final breath before squeezing the trigger and shooting. The gunshot was louder than you expected, echoing in the dense woods. You jumped at the recoil of the gun, not expecting it to be so powerful. You had shot the middle of the tree perfectly. Bucky smiled, “Not so bad, right?”
“Fucking terrifying,” you said as you let out a breathy laugh. Bucky asked if you wanted to shoot again, just for one last practice. You nodded and aimed for the same spot. It wasn’t as terrifying second time around, this time you knew the noise and the hit back but it was still scary. Quickly, you turned the safety off before slamming the gun back into Bucky’s hands, “No more.”
Bucky smiled, “You did it!” He said as you began to walk away, “You should be proud. Tomorrow we’ll practice throwing a punch.”
“Couldn’t we have started with that?”
“Decided to throw you in the deep end.” He smiled as you rolled your eyes with the hint of a smile on your face, “I’m kidding... How do you feel?”
“Like I need to go lie down,” you muttered quietly before shrugging, “Thank you for pushing me to do it but for the love of god, if anything happens, you have to protect me because it’s fucking terrifying.”
“Let’s just hope that it doesn’t come to that.”
A few days had passed with you and Bucky growing closer and closer. He’d taken you into town a couple more times just to do some grocery shopping. You weren’t as bored as you usually were because now, you had Bucky. The pair of you spoke a lot more, sharing stories from your past and you catching Bucky up on modern day times. The dynamic the pair of you had was good, friendly with hints of something else bubbling under the surface. After learning how to shoot the gun, he didn’t bother teaching you about throwing a punch because you knew how to shoot and that was the main thing. If you could shoot, you could survive.
It was one night as you slept that something happened. Something bad and something terrifying. You could hear the creaks of the floorboards, it was dead silent in the cabin so you could hear everything that went on. You rolled over in bed, assuming that it was Bucky getting up during the night for something... until, a hand clamped over your mouth and a rough hand was pulling you upwards and out of bed.
Your eyes shot open, automatically kicking and trying to scream when the person hissed a, “Shh! It’s me, it’s Bucky!” Your heart was racing, instantly going back to when Rumlow and his men had kidnapped you the same way. Bucky saw your wide eyes and realised that he’d triggered something that wasn’t just fear; he recognised the real and very genuine trauma in your eyes. He slowly released you not wanting to further any discomfort but put a finger over his lips, a silent motion to be quiet. Your eyes were wide and already, your hands were clammy. What the fuck was going on?
It was then you heard the gruff voice of someone from somewhere else in the cabin, “Yeah, they’re definitely here. Call for more back-up.” You could practically feel yourself blanching as you stared hopelessly at Bucky. Bucky’s face was hard as he glanced at you. You were fucking terrified and he knew that but this is why he was here; to protect you and to keep you safe long enough until you could get back to Steve. He had no idea how they’d found you both so quickly. He held up two fingers mouthing ‘two agents’. There were only two right now and that was okay, Bucky could deal with two by himself. He could deal with more but when he had to protect you simultaneously, he could only deal with a couple of agents.
Your whole body trembled with fear as adrenaline began to rush through your veins. You were definitely in flight or fight mode and my god, you wanted to take flight and run away. It was Bucky who pulled you back to the ground, placing his hand on your shoulder. You looked at him, tears in your eyes. God, you hated feelings this way; you hated feeling so powerless. You knew how to shoot a gun, yes, but you weren’t fully prepared for a full on fucking attack! This shouldn’t have been happening, what was happening? Was it Hydra? Had they found the two of you? How would they have found you so fast?
Bucky crouched so that he was looking directly into your eyes, “We’re gonna be okay,” he whispered quietly, “I need you to hide.” You shook your head frantically, grabbing at his arm desperately. You didn’t want him to leave you. Had it been under different circumstances, Bucky would’ve been smirking at you.
Bucky gave your arm a reassuring squeeze as the deep murmurs grew closer and closer to the bedrooms. Bucky helped you climb into the wardrobe and closed the door. Of course, it would be the closet you hid in; ultimately the worst hiding place in the world though it was the only place in your bedroom that you could hide. Your heart was racing as Bucky closed those closet doors and so much for your claustrophobia. You squeezed your eyes closed as you tried your best to steady your breathing. I’m going to die. This is it. I’m going to die in a cabin in the woods. Holy fucking shit, I’m going to die.
Bucky withdrew his knife from his ankle, he was going for a stealth attack so the quieter the weapon, the better. He knew that there were two men, potentially more on the way, but right now, two was absolutely okay to deal with. This is what Bucky was trained to do; he was the Winter Soldier, a secret assassin and his mission was to keep you safe. The only difference was that Bucky didn’t need the code words to do the job. Bucky would keep you safe and make sure that you were okay, he had to; there was no other option.
The house was quiet as Bucky crept towards the bedroom door, standing at the side. He would stay here, waiting for one of them to walk in before stealth attacking. A creak sounded from a few steps outside of your bedroom door. Bucky’s eyes shot towards the closet, he couldn’t see you and couldn’t hear you but my god, he wished that he could grab you and run with you. He knew that you would be terrified, the only saving grace in this situation was that he’d been able to at least show you how to shoot the gun. If it came down to it, at least Bucky knew that you would be able to protect yourself... he just hoped that if it had to come down to it, you would find the courage to shoot.
The door slowly began to creak open and Bucky stayed hidden in the shadows until the Hydra agent was fully inside of the bedroom. It was then that Bucky carefully closed the door behind him. The Hydra agent wore dark with a dark cap and a mask that covered half of his face. You couldn’t really see much but to be honest, you didn’t want to see much. Clamping your hand over your mouth to try and limit any noise, you squeezed your eyes shut. Your heart hammered against your chest, almost painfully, and you were almost kind of paranoid that the Hydra agent would be able to hear your heart thundering against your ribcage. You closed your eyes at exactly the right time as Bucky lunged for the agent.
In one smooth motion, Bucky had grabbed the agent’s head on either side and with a fluid movement, snapped his neck. The crack made your stomach churn and made tears well in your eyes. Bile rose in your throat but you swallowed and forced it back down. You had to stay calm. It was much louder and harsher than you’d ever expected not that you had thought about a neck breaking that much. Bucky gently led the now limp agent to the bed and laid him on it. Yep, never touching that blanket again.
“You okay?” Bucky asked, voice a husky whisper in the dead of night.
You sniffed in response and that was all Bucky needed to know that you weren’t doing okay at all. He hadn’t expected you to be okay with the events, the most drama you’d witnessed was someone stealing a pizza from the pizza shop down the road from yours and Steve’s apartment. That and Tony trying to pick a fight with an empty Iron Man suit. You’d never been around a lot of violence, Steve shielded you from that part of his life but now, you were forced to see it and take part.
Bucky moved towards the closet, not realising that the second agent was looming in the doorway. You squinted through the tiny crack, most of your vision that you could see from the gap was Bucky but as you squinted, you could see a figure sneaking up from behind Bucky. Your eyes widened and you let out a scream of, “BEHIND YOU!” It had been a rookie move on Bucky’s part, he knew better but he needed to check on you and needed to make sure that you were okay. His downfall was you.
Bucky spun but was too late, the Hydra agent raised the object that he had and shot it. It wasn’t a gun, it was electric? What the fuck? It was like a taser that shot out and wrapped around Bucky and buzzed and hissed; much like an electric belt. Bucky’s body convulsed as he was knocked to the other side of the room. He tried to fight it but the more he fought, the worse the pain was. He could feel the darkness trying so desperately to take over his vision but he fought, he fought because he had to. He needed to save you, he had to fight it and protect you. All that stood between you and the Hydra agent was a closet door and now the agent knew that you were in the there. Bucky tried and he tried so hard but the pain of every muscle in his body convulsing was too much and he began to lose his consciousness.
This was it. This is where I die. The Hydra agent was three steps away and he knew where you were, this was it. This was it. Fight or flight. Fight or die. There was nothing in the closet except you and some hangers. Quickly, you grabbed some of the hangers, they wouldn’t do much damage but they’d be annoying and get in the way. If you could get a hanger attached to the electric shooting taser thing, it might make it harder to use. Being a bigger woman, you decided to use your extra weight and extra might to your advantage. You had to, it was your only weapon.
His hands reached for the door handles but you didn’t give him the chance to open it. You pushed yourself to the back of the closet as though preparing to run a race in the Olympics and steadied your body before leaping and bursting through the door with all of the strength you could muster. It was like watching a lion pounce on its prey; you roared loudly and leapt. The doors flew open and the Hydra agent absolutely hadn’t been expecting a roaring plus size woman to leap from the closet. The last thing Bucky saw before he let the darkness take over was you toppling into the agent and knocking him to the ground armed with various coat hangers. The agent gasped for breath, the impact winding him, heh, take that motherfucker, and quickly, whilst you used that to your advantage you looped some coat hangers on his weapon. It wouldn’t stop him from using it but it would take at least 15 seconds to get them off. You didn’t spare a glance to the dead agent that lay sprawled on your bed. You couldn’t.
Quickly, you clambered to get off of the agent. Your heart was beating fast but you had no time to think about how terrified you were; you just had to survive. You slammed the door shut, thinking that any obstacle would be good. You had to get to the safe, you needed to be able to protect yourself. Safe, 0407, gun, safety off, aim, shoot. You repeated the steps in your head as a mantra over and over again. You threw open the bathroom door (which opened outwards) to cause another disruption. You could hear the agent clambering to get up, coat hangers falling to the ground, he was seconds away from coming to get you.
With bare feet slapping the hardwood floors, you grabbed the painting from the wall and chucked it backwards behind you. The Hydra agent was thundering down the hallway. With violently shaking hands, you punched in 0408 - “Shit!” - quickly, you punched the ‘CLEAR ALL’ button before trying again, 0407 and throwing it open grabbing the gun and darting to the other side of the living room just as the Hydra agent burst into the living room, panting and angry.
He gave a loud laugh as he watched your shaking hands try to flick the safety off, “What’s Captain America’s girlfriend going to do? She gonna shoot me? Really?” He scoffed. He expected you to be weak, expected you to give up easily. Now, you were crying and you were terrified and sure, you weren’t very strong but you would never just give up. You would fight with what little strength you had and you would try you goddamn hardest to survive.
You flicked the safety off and threw your arms out, readying your aim to point at the Hydra agent. It was when you looked at him that it really sunk in what was happening right now. Your eyes darted between the gun and the agent and you could feel the tears burning in your eyes. You couldn’t do this. You thought you could but you couldn’t; you weren’t strong enough and the Hydra agent knew it. He laughed again, throwing his hands up and walking closer. He was a hulking brute of a man, easily over six foot, towering over you. You couldn’t launch yourself at him now, he would be prepared for it and you couldn’t fight your way out of this. You weren’t fast as running, he would catch you. Your whole body trembled as adrenaline pounded blood through your veins.
“I can’t wait to see this,” he smirked, stopping about two metres away from you. He held his up and you couldn’t see a weapon on him. He was expecting you to be weak, expecting you to drop the gun and freak out and let him take you away willingly, “Captain America’s girlfriend isn’t going to shoot me.” Your eyes darted to the hallway, trying to will Bucky to appear. The agent smirked, “Your other boyfriend will wake up just in time to see you either bleeding out on the floor or taken to Rumlow, depends if you want to do this the easy or the hard way.”
He took a step closer and you raised the gun yelling, “Stay back!”
He rolled his eyes, “You’re not going to shoot me. You’re weak, you’re nothing without your boyfriends protecting you,” he began to reach behind his back, hand wrapping around his concealed weapon, “You’re nothi-”
The gunshot wasn’t the most disturbing part. Oh no, the most disturbing part were two different sounds. The first was the bloodcurdling gurgle that came from his throat as his blood was forced upwards until it spilled out and bubbled from his mouth. You watched in horror as his eyes were wide with fear as he clutched at his stomach. You had shot him. You’d really, genuinely shot him. Bucky had told you to either aim for the stomach or the heart. You picked the stomach, bigger target and with trembling hands, easier to get right. Blood poured out of him at a speed much greater than you could have ever thought. It was already pooling on the floor like red hands seeping and reaching out to cover everything in its way. The man took a few gurgling breaths. The second disturbing sound was as his body collapsed to the floor with a horrifying thud as he began to bleed out onto the floor, barely holding onto consciousness.
Your hands trembled violently, gripping the gun with all of your strength, arms still outstretched, staring at the man on the floor. He had been trying to kill you, trying to kill Bucky and you did what Bucky taught you... you used the gun, you shot and... he was going to die. He was losing blood at a rapid pace and you were no doctor but you’d seen plenty episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and Criminal Minds to know that he had mere minutes left. The world around you began to slip away as you stared at the body, eyes wide and watering from the shock and lack of blinking, it felt like time stopped and all noise around you stopped. It felt like you were underwater, as though you’d jumped into the sea, sinking deeper and deeper, the world getting more faded and faint with every passing second.
As Bucky groggily came to, the gunshot radiated through the cabin. No. He rolled over with a grunt, wooziness crashing over him like a wave. His world spun as he flipped onto his front and scrambled to climb upwards as he tore the electric wire which had stopped electrocuting him and chucked it to the floor, “(y/n)...” he murmured softly as he fell against the bedroom wall, struggling to stand. His vision was blurred and hard to focus and it felt like the world tilted a new direction every second. Bucky stumbled forwards, grabbing out to catch onto the doorframe to hold himself up with, “(y/n).” Every muscle in his body ached painfully, burning with every movement and every breath but he pushed through. He had to get to you. He had to get to you to see what had happened. The gunshot woke him up and where did the gunshot come from? Who shot a gun? Who... Who got shot? Bucky didn’t dare think of the answer being you. Right now, he couldn’t. He had to get to you, had to protect you and make sure that you were okay. This is why he was here; he had to protect you, he had to make sure that you survived this. So far, he’d done a piss poor job at protecting you and now, he just needed to see you.
He called out for you as his vision slowly began to focus again. He took a tentative step forwards and then another, the world began to stop swaying. He stumbled once but with every step forwards, the fuzziness began to fade and he began to pick up speed. He burst into his bedroom, “(y/n)?” Nothing. He turned on his heel, “(y/n)?!” He yelled before bursting through into the living room.
You were stood, frozen in place, arms outstretched as you clutched the gun. Bucky scanned the room. The safe was open, you’d grabbed the gun from there and... on the floor lay the barely alive Hydra agent. Bucky carefully stepped over to you, repeating your name. He could tell that you were in shock. When he was at your side, he could see how violently you were shaking, how you gripped the gun in a white knuckled grip and how tears slipped down your cheek every second. You were alive, you were safe but... at what cost?
“(y/n),” Bucky’s voice was loud, enough to break you from the trance but not enough to scare you. He grabbed your shoulders and stepped in front of you, blocking your vision from the body on the floor, “(y/n), you need to give me the gun.” Bucky had stepped in front of you to hide the body from your view but the gun was pressed against his chest, exactly where his heart was.
You blinked. Once. Twice. The gun. You looked to the gun and realised that it was pointed at Bucky. He repeated to give him the gun. You opened your mouth, trying to form some sort of coherent sentence, “I-I-I-”
“It’s okay, (y/n),” Bucky said, voice gentle for such an intense situation, “It’s okay...” He knew you and he knew that you wouldn’t be able to cope with this situation alone, he needed to be there for you.
“Is he- Is he-”
“No, not yet.”
“But- but he’s going to- he will-”
Bucky sighed, “(y/n), I’m going to take this gun from you now, okay? You need to give me the gun.” He paused, taking your silence as an agreement, before carefully and slowly prying your fingers from the gun. Once he’d taken it from you, he turned the safety on and slid it into the waistband of his jeans all the while watching you carefully.
Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs as adrenaline coursed through your veins. Your mind whirred unable to focus on anything, “I killed him.”
“No,” Bucky said, “he’s not dead.”
“He will be and once he’s- once he’s dead... I killed him.”
Bucky sighed before he shook his head, “No, I did. I killed him.”
It took you a second to comprehend what he said but in that second, Bucky had grabbed the gun from his waistband, turned safety off and shot the almost dead Hydra agent right in between the eyes. Bucky still shielded you from the body but you knew what happened. The gunshot made you jump harshly, causing a new wave of fresh tears to well in your eyes. Bucky turned to you, once again, pocketing the gun, “I killed him, see? I killed him, (y/n).”
“But- but...” You couldn’t understand. You were in shock and you couldn’t process or comprehend his actions. Bucky crouched down, forcing you to look him in the eyes as he spoke to you.
“I killed him. I’m taking all of the blame from you and putting it on me. What you did was self defence, you were shooting an intruder; I was the one who killed him. It’s okay. It’s okay now.” Bucky had shot him, Bucky had killed him for you. Bucky knew and understood the guilt of taking someone’s life and he couldn’t bare to see you take on that guilt. He knew that it would crush you, you were too good of a person to have that darkness in your heart and in your soul. You were too good and he... well, what was one more? Bucky knew that if he hadn’t have killed him, you would’ve let the guilt destroy you... at least he knew how to cope and deal with it.
You broke down then. That kind of loud, wailing, ugly sobbing that you can’t control and you can’t stop. Your knees gave but Bucky was there to catch you. He easily caught you, pulling you up and to his chest. He held you tightly, holding you as you sobbed into his shirt. His head fell to yours, breathing in the smell of your shampoo from your hair as you cried. When Steve sent you away, this isn’t what anyone had in mind would happen. Hydra had found you and Bucky somehow and now... you were in more danger than ever before. He held you like that for a few minutes until you had calmed down. You could hear Bucky’s heart beating slow and steady, even under a high pressure situation he could still keep his composure. You stayed in his arms, listening to his beating heart, timing your breaths to match his. Bucky’s arms held you tightly, one around your back and the other holding your head to his chest. You took a long slow breath before feeling ready to pull away. Slowly, you pulled back and it was as you did so, something changed.
Things had been changing for weeks, dynamics and feelings had been developing and changing a lot recently but it was in this moment that things really began to fall into place, “(y/n)…” Bucky whispered softly. You noticed that his breathing changed, faster and more shallow; more erratic than the slow steadiness only mere seconds before. You eyes stared into his dark shirt and it felt like the moment of seeing colour for the first time again though... this is how it should have felt, “Look at me.”
You didn’t want to look. You knew what was going to happen; Bucky knew what was about to happen too. You knew what seeing those blue eyes would do and you couldn’t bear it. Bucky’s hand moved from your hair to your cheek, delicately wiping away a tear. When his skin touched yours, you gasped, a feeling that you’d never felt before tickling at your skin. It felt electric almost like you were being touched for the first time. The shock reverberated through your cheek and to the rest of your body. You could truly feel the ‘pull’ that they spoke of.
Bucky took a deep breath, feeling strangely overwhelmed. The pull had never been stronger and he knew that in this moment, you could feel it too. You could feel the feelings of what soulmates should feel like. In this moment, nothing else mattered except him and you. He said your name again and slowly, so painfully slowly, your eyes began to look upwards. You almost couldn’t stop yourself from looking, it was inevitable... it had always been inevitable. You sucked in a deep breath when you reached his eyes. They were so unbelievably piercing and they were so blue. Bucky’s eyes had been the first colour you had ever seen before and now, here they were when you most needed them. Everything faded away and it was just you and Bucky, it was just those eyes of his. Your breathing began to slow as you found yourself tilting into his hands on your cheek, wanting to feel him touch your cheek fully. Bucky’s eyes flickered to look at your lips and then to your eyes and then again.
“Bucky...” you whispered, voice barely more than a whisper. Hidden in the whisper was three quiet words... I love you.
Bucky moved closer so slightly, just enough that you could feel his breath tickling your face. Your heart skipped a beat. You wanted him to kiss you. You wanted to kiss him. Suddenly, nothing mattered; it was just you and Bucky. He frowned slightly as he glanced between your lips and your eyes. The desire to kiss you was so strong and you were right there but... his hand fell from your cheek to his side and he cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from yours to check the time, “We gotta go.”
You snapped back to reality in that moment and a wave of guilt crashed over you. Steve. Oh my god, Steve. Bucky stepped backwards, “We gotta go,” he repeated, without giving you a minute to process, “If two agents found us that means that they aren’t far away. We gotta go... now.” He didn’t give you another second and instead, repeated that you had to move now. There was no time to waste anymore, it was now or never. Bucky shielded your view from the body on the floor, he didn’t want you to see the gory mess but he couldn’t hide you from the body in the bedroom.
Silently, you and Bucky rushed around the cabin, grabbing your essentials. You grabbed your duffel bags, abandoning the blanket and cushion and Bucky grabbed his bag, blanket and your photo of you and Steve. As he held the photo, waiting for you to grab one last thing, he glanced down at it and felt a pang of guilt. He was in love with his best friend’s girl and he knew that you were in love with him too. You appeared a second later, clutching at The Hobbit, Bucky’s copy that he’d read to you, and an envelope in the order - Steve’s letter. The two of you nodded at each other and then without a word, you left the cabin for the final time.
The black SUV from the two agents was still parked out front and you both knew that there would be more on the way. You piled into the car with Bucky after he checked for any tracking devices before he began to drive. Your mind raced almost as fast as Bucky drove the car. He was silent, thinking about how they could’ve possibly found the two of you. They must’ve checked airport footage already and from there tracked you, maybe the hire car worker had given them the car information and they’d tracked it... he didn’t know. In your hands you held two things, one was The Hobbit that Bucky had read to you and the other was Steve’s letter. You clutched them tightly, so tightly that your hands cramped around them. As Bucky drove, all you could do was stare out of the window, watching in shock as the world whooshed by you.
“Where are we going?” You asked Bucky hoarsely.
He glanced at you, “We’re going home.”
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He guwaffs, and it’s a rich, throaty sound that curls your toes. “Mad?” he repeats, a half-smile quirking up at one side. “Mad at what, the pretty little gift sent to me by God?” His eyebrow cocks, gesturing to the space above. That half-smile blooms into a full-on Cheshire grin. “And right at my time of need.”
inspired by that scene in “triple dog.”
in which your friends dare you to hide in resident bad boy bucky barnes’ closet. (includes bad boy!bucky x shy!reader, allusions to masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, mild cheerleader kink, fingering.)
do not repost.
This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.
You’d defend yourself by pointing out it wasn’t necessarily your decision but a dare your friends sprung on you but it doesn’t change the fact you agreed to it (albeit with great protest) and are now in the following predicament.
“No—no, you are not picking ‘truth,’ Miss. I-Love-Staying-on-the-Safe-Side. You’re doing a dare, and that is to put on this little cheerleading costume and hide in Barnes’ closet for an hour.”
Peer pressure is a hell of a thing because once Natasha said that, then the rest of your friends were insisting you had to do it. It didn’t matter you’d be breaking and entering, that their place was—is—currently occupied, or that the outfit didn’t fit quite right (too short, too tight).
The least you can say about them is their distraction worked like a charm in getting you in. One of your friends knocked on his door and started a conversation about having a shitty landlord, eventually gravitating into the kitchen. A mutual friend provided directions to his bedroom, and you kept your bambi-like nerves together enough to stumble into a closed closet.
Before you slipped in, that mutual friend—Natasha—placated your nerves by assuring you that James would be chilling in his living room; that way, the probability of him realizing there’s an intruder in his bedroom closet is low.
Unfortunately, that turns out to be wrong because after your friend finishes with her tangent and the front door shuts behind her, he returns to the solitude of his bedroom. Which, although you only managed a glimpse on your meandering in, is a palace.
You can expect nothing less of James Barnes, always referred to as Bucky. While he’s your friend’s neighbor, he also attends your college. The campus is on the smaller side, and he’s a notable presence among the student body.
It’s not just that he’s a pretty face—chiseled features, sharp jawline and straight noses, burning bright blue eyes—but that he’s a lady’s man with a penchant for fights. There’s much gossip about his recklessness but the mere fact he often drives his motorcycle without a helmet is all you need to come to that conclusion.
Safe to say, he elicits a particular brand of anxiety; particular meaning it’s a degree deeper than your normal state of nervousness. Should you be discovered, your humiliation will be triple-fold, and that pesky paranoia insists it’s only inevitable.
Being in a person’s closet unbeknownst to them is bad, being scantily-clad in the process is worse, but the person being him? Oh, God—oh, God.
You wedge yourself deeper into the recess of his shallow wardrobe. The air is limited but faint with detergent, and it’s remarkably organized, minimalist in the amount of clothes on hangers. You never thought you’d want someone to live messily but you do now—in that case, your body would be shielded; in this case, you’re in plain view.
Outside of the bifold doors, his television mutes then his footsteps pace back and forth. You don’t think you made any noise but your heart races with the conviction he’s figured you out. The dresser next to the closet slides back, and it sounds like he’s rummaging through a drawer.
After a beat, there’s a vindicated “ah!” The drawer closes, and his footsteps retreat to the bed. The room’s silence and your hearing strained, the frame creaks with weight. A key presses, and you deduce that it’s his laptop. That would be perfectly fine except that it’s loud moaning blaring out of its speaker.
You have your phone: to keep track of the three hours—a twenty minute dent in the countdown—and to stave away boredom as well as withstand your friend’s group-chat teasing you via text message. All the humor is wiped off now, replaced with mortification.
This is bad. Very bad. God-fucking-damnit! Why in the hell did you agree to this? You are not going to hide in this man’s closet while he jacks off. Violating his privacy like that, feeling your own stab of arousal at his low groan, is something you refuse.
Your hands shake, thumbs violently tapping against your phone screen as fast as you can. They better get their fucking asses up here and get to distracting! There’s a plethora of typos and no explanation but the urgency is punctuated clearly. Your thumb hovers over the send button but there’s a sharp inhale and another husky groan, and your amoral libido makes you fumble.
And there it goes. Your phone flips out of your hands and clatters against the ground; titanium on hardwood floors, it makes a distinctive—and loud—sound.
You wish it was one of those things where it’s only that loud to you, being so hyper aware of yourself and being so close, but the laptop slams shut. In a quick second, the bed shifts and the floors creak with a strong, “Uh. Hello?”
You don’t respond. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you hope he doesn’t investigate further. But like any sane person who hears a noise in their closet, he does. His strides are tentative, encroaching on the space with the utmost suspense.
The doors part, and you can feel the gust upon being opened so quickly but your eyes are still closed—because if you can’t see him, then he can’t see you. Right? Wrong. You know that, and your lashes reluctantly flutter up to the intense gaze bearing down on you.
His eyes are bright, a stark contrast to his dark hair and the post-shower dampened tips. His shirt is off with only a Star of David pendant dangling between his pecs; a well defined abdomen displayed, leading down to low riding jeans where the belt buckle is unfastened and the zipper is unzipped.
You swallow and try to ignore the bulge flushed against white briefs. “H - hi?” you say sheepishly. “This, uhm, is not what it looks like ‘cause there was a dare—but I picked ‘truth’ then she’s like ‘no! You’re gonna go into the closet!’” You’re speaking rapidly as you press forth on your feet, one hand against the wall to help your stability. “I don’t do this, and I am so - so sorry. If there’s anything… anything I - I can give do or give you or - or…—”
The words trail into a stuttered breath, blowing past your teeth when you see the look on his face. It’s utterly obscene. Sure, in this instance you seem the perverse one but the way he takes in the sight of you is something out of a porno.
His pupils dilates to obsidian, greedily running up the equally pornographic outfit you’re wearing. It’s a stereotypical ‘costume’ — an old version of your college’s cheerleading uniform that your friend kept. It’s a two-piece of gold and green, skimpy quality further accentuated by being a size too small.
The top is sleeveless with straps haltered around your neck, just barely making it over your tits with an elastic band secured around your ribs. Because it's so tight, you forewent your bra and your nipples pebble against the fabric. The bottoms take on the traditional pleated pattern, reaching to only the curve of your ass.
James’ tongue laves over his lower lip slowly, and if you aren’t mistaken, the bulge in his pants twitch. The wolffish hunger written across his face makes your thighs clench together. “Oh, man. Am I hallucinating, or has my wet dream finally come true?”
It’s not a reaction you were expecting but goodness does it spark hotly underneath your skin. He looks like he wants to eat you—lick, bite, if the swipe of his tongue and drag of his teeth are to specify. You aren’t one to speculate on someone’s feelings about you, especially not a roguish character like him but this is throwing you.
“Shouldn’t you—shouldn’t you be mad?” you point out, partly confused and partly grateful; his eyes sear into yours and your mind scribbles so you’re rambling on: “Because if I would you, I would be so I totally understand—”
He guwaffs, and it’s a rich, throaty sound that curls your toes. “Mad?” he repeats, a half-smile quirking up at one side. “Mad at what, the pretty little gift sent to me by God?” His eyebrow cocks, gesturing wordlessly to the space above. “And right at my time of need.”
One arm cords around your waist and swiftly reels you tightly into his flank. A soft umph escapes your chest at the abruptness, stammering a breath as your abdomen molds against ridges of muscles and smooth skin. He runs hot, and the imprint against your thigh is swelling firmer.
“Fucking look at ‘cha.” And he is, lips parted reminiscent of a panting dog but incisors gleaming like predator eyeing prey. “What person in their right mind could have a complaint?” His fingers wander over your cleavage to the curves of your belly. “Fuck me. Look at you. God, you’re cute.”
His reputation is on the wolfish side yet he’s curled around you like a cat, practically purring in content. In a similar manner, you’re usually shy but can’t bring yourself to be shielded from his ravenous eyes and covetous hands.
“T - thanks—oh - oh!” It’s a polite expression shifting into an airy exalt because a palm has smoothed up the back of your thighs, dexterous fingers curling into the sensitive inside only a breadth away from your panty-clad center.
His face has dipped down and nestled the crook of your neck. The tip of his nose follows the curve, lips brushing over the junction of your shoulder, inhaling and groaning all at the same time. “And you smell good. Sweet and soft like peaches. Are ‘ya gonna let me have a taste, pretty girl?”
Your knees nearly knock together, all sorts of flip flops and fluttering in your inner depths. Coherency is a ways away because your body is a spark of stimulation, overriding your brain when he’s on you like this. You’re academia and work-focused so matters of touch are sorely neglected but he’s got you on an overload.
“Fuck,” you gasp, involuntarily twitching in his embrace, and you’re glad he’s holding you otherwise you’d surely fall. “You - you’re—ah, friendlier than I imagined.” Friendly isn’t exactly how you’d describe his behavior but it’s applicable enough considering he’s the opposite of bothered by this whole situation.
He chuckles huskily, and he’s too close to not feel the shiver that racks your spine. “Only for you, honey,” he says—clarifies, drawing back to admire your figure: once more and its almost embarrassingly-snug fit. A groan rumbles through his chest. “Goddamn. When I asked Romanoff to introduce us, I didn’t think it’d be on a golden platter.”
That’s news to you. Surprising and bewildering because you wouldn’t think yourself to peak his interest; reserved, you don’t frequent the parties he’s rumored to be the life of, or hang in his social circles. That’s with Natasha being the exception because she’s both his neighbor and his friend but you never imagined catching his eye, muchless worth mentioning.
“D’you bring poms-poms too? Do a little thing for me?” he teases, and his hands slide down your back and grab fistfuls of your ass, kneading into both cheeks through the little skirt (and you are wearing panties—you’re not that indecent). “Gonna show me how you work this fine body of yours. . .”
You can’t help but squirm, stimulation igniting a fire too hot to resist, and by the firmed heat against your thigh, he’s enjoying it. “Shit, shit.” Your hands flatten against his chest, fingertips digging in lightly as you try to wrangle your reactions in.
“Or did you want me to go first? Give you a demo of what you’re working with?” A palm hooks underneath your knee and hikes it high over his hip so your center is flushed against his, scorching and undeniably big, a damp spot leaking through his boxers. “This time, you won’t have to watch me through the closet like a little pervert, albeit a cute lil’ one.”
Your face heats with embarrassment beneath the surge of visceral sensation. “I - I wasn’t—“ Your words are a stumble, half moaned though the earnestness is there. “—I swear I wouldn’t have—”
He makes that deep vibration of amusement. “I know,” he croons. “‘Cause you’re good for your own good but that doesn’t stop you from getting wet at the thought, now does it?”
You don’t consider lying, and it’s good because his hand slips between your bodies and confirms that fact for himself. Beneath the band of your skirt and panties, his fingers slide home and your hips buck eagerly into the touch.
“S - sorry?” you rasp but it isn’t very convincing because on the next breath, you moan, unable to resist twitching.
“Nothin’ to apologize for, baby.” He grins. “You are gonna be thankin’ me in a minute, though.”
His other arm has sunk behind your lower back and braced there while his rough fingertips swirl wide but direct, quick coarseness versus your sensitive bare flesh. An initial jolt to the system, the sensations warble into a resounding of heat, thrumming to an eloquent rhythm.
“Oh, you’re fucking soft.” He groans, nearly chokes on the revelation, words a whisper against your temple, and you careen further into him with a whine. “Soft and responsive, you’re more than begging to be touched. Have you been neglecting your poor pussy, baby?”
The accurate vulgarity is a ripple, and the bashfulness radiating hot in your face buries your nose into his chest; the divot of his sternum, his pendant is a faint outline against your forehead. His scent is all-man, punctuated with the aroma of soap, smooth—save for the defined ridges your nails are raking down.
“Please—please,” is all the coherency you can offer, a fan against his chest that he can both hear and feel.
If there’s ever been a moment to physically feel someone’s talent, then this is surely it. The wind of his fingers never breaks pace, doesn’t miss a beat as you jerk and writhe against the knot twisting so exquisitely tightening within you, ups the ante when you’ve coated him in slippery layers of lust.
Tracing down the split of you, his middle digit sinks past your folds and wedges into your inner depths. True to his earlier surmise, you cinch down and spasm around the intrusion. Your reaction crosses with his, your mewl mixed into the groan your sex has wrenched out of his throat.
“You’re driving me insane. Between those pretty sounds and the way you feel, I’m losing my mind.” The digit curls up, and you squeak, muscles twitching taut. “Fuck, you should've come to me sooner ‘cause I’ll take real good care of you.” His smile brands itself into the cut of your cheek. LWhen you’re this cute, it becomes a compulsion.”
The come hither motion nudges that perfect spot inside you, and he maintains that pressure there—ever rising the longer it stays—while his thumb pins down your clit. It’s that dual attack, rubbing your bundle of nerves and pressing insistently inside you, that has the fever dosing you full-bodied.
“I know you’ve got a thing for keeping your head down but I want you to look at me.” For a second, he pauses and that brief loss pulls your face back in a whimper-whine of plea. Carnal delight alights in dilated blue, and he nods with renewed vigor. “Yeah. Like that, eyes on me—eyes right on me, baby.”
Your innate shyness takes the backseat to the sensations consuming you; like a fire too powerful to be swayed by a pot of water, it sparks from the start of your toes and blazes to every nook and cranny of your body. Your eyes are open but fluttered to half-mast, making out his chiseled features eating up your every reaction.
The pressure boils and spills. You’re sure your nails are leaving angry red trails in your wake, crescent imprints hard enough to draw blood (though, you think he might like that spur of pain because he only moves further into you).
“O - oh, okay—I am—I’m gonna. . .” You’re stammering but you can barely hear it over the blood pounding between your ears and the wet squelch of his caress on you. “Fuck me. James, please!” The words are hoarse but nonetheless serious.
“Soon. Let me feel you first, when you’re all overwhelmed and gushing—”
And you give in.
It floods and quakes until you’re trembling. Your vision slides to the back of your head, throat barred and he immediately takes advantage by latching onto your pulse. The strength in your legs disappears for a moment but he’s hauling you secure against him.
“It’s alright. I got you,” he says as you grapple for his jeans. His arm hooks underneath your ass, and he’s leading you a few steps over so you can falter back onto his mattress. He guides you down, touch outlining the curves of you, hovering above with a knee between your legs. “That was so good—so good. Hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen. Jesus Christ.”
Leaning in while your nerves fray wonderfully at the praise, he seals the distance. His lips on yours, your lips on his, there’s mint and desire on his tongue. It’s a taste you can easily get addicted to. The synchronicity is aided by the languorous way he licks into you, clearly tentative to your experience—or lack therefore of.
You have to take a breather, panting as he rests his forehead against yours. It doesn’t take long for you to recover, a hunger of your own surging through your veins.
Before you can initiate another kiss, your phone’s violent vibration and wild flashing (which you probably should’ve turned off) interrupts. Forgotten on the floor of his closet, it stops then promptly begins again. You aren’t sure whether it’s the alarm, or your friends calling but he’s getting up to check.
With a reluctant click of his tongue, he rises off you and takes a leisurely stroll over. It’s on its third ring when he picks it up. His thumb blindly slides across the screen as his gaze fixes on you, and he set it against his ear.
“Yeah,” he greets the person on the other end of the line, and if you couldn’t see the roguish smile on his face, you’d surely be able to hear it. “She did your little dare. Really, really well. So well in fact that she’s gonna spend the night with me. The morning, too, probably. I’m sure you’ll have fun without her, though not as much as I’ll have with her.”
“Thanks for calling! This is going on silent now but she’ll call you back—when she has the energy, that is.” He taps the screen again and shifts the setting to ‘do not disturb’ which you have no qualms about. With that out of the way, his attention returns to you, and he flashes a smile. “Now where were we?”
[send feedback here / my masterlist here]
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Jo Fey is a formidable woman, she struggled for years and her powers were getting out of control, she was under the radar of the Avengers and now has to deal with all the drama, will she find love or only more trouble?
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Just posted Chapter 6!! It's so good I promise! Lots of steamy moments and one badass woman 😎
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Sinful Delights Series: Prologue (Baker Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader)
Pairing: James “Bucky” Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff,
Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Peter Parker, Dorothy ‘Dot’ Miller (Female OC), (More to come as the series goes forward)
Setting: New York City, New York, AU no powers, modern setting
Rating: PG-13 to NSFW, E (explicit), M (Mature), +18 only please for later chapters
Warnings: Bucky being an asshole at times (trust me on this), Body images issues (Female and Male), Smut (in later chapters), protected and unprotected sex (Always wrap if you’re gonna tap, protection in key), cursing, yearning, pining, mentions of death, (More to be added with coming chapters)
Summary: Treats to tempt the palate, decadent delights so sinful they need a warning label, the pull of love so strong it could turn enemies to lovers in a battle over who’s desserts take top honors. Half million dollar’s and bragging rights offered up as prize though not the only reward risked in this winner takes all battle royale.
Word count: (Prologue: 1,306)
Notes: Written for #goaskbarneschallenge my chosen prompt it Enemies to Lovers with a Baker!Bucky Barnes AU.
Forever’s: @chickensarentcheap @jedi-mando
Sinful Delight’s list: @goaskbarnes @stanevansalways19 @btsforlif
Bucky Barnes list: @learisa
Apple’s and cinnamon, fresh baked chocolate chip cookies still warm from the oven all gooey and melted sweet goodness, wafts through to tingle noses of morning patrons. Tummy’s rumbling with lightly sniffing noses and smiles spread over weary still sleepy people. There’s a bounce to the red head’s step carrying a tray of fresh made cream cheese kolache’s passing salivating customers waiting.
“Stop teasing the patrons Nat and get your ass over here with that tray,” good natured grumbles rise above the din, hand waving her over. Grin tipping the corner of your lips up while accepting the cash from an older woman, shoulder length brown hair pulled up into an elegant bun. On anyone else it would come off as severe and matronly but she set it off perfectly. “Have wonderful day,” offering the parting words with another smile.
Sliding the empty tray out to replace, Natasha leans against the glass display case, showing off every pastry known to man and some in flavors most wouldn’t think of. “Did you see the entertainment news this morning?” Flipping long braided ponytail back over her shoulder, half listening to orders though still filling each one correctly with a smile. Hazel eyes dancing with excitement while watching your features intently. Lithe frame quickly moving from one task to the next light pink racer back blouse fluttering around her slim hips incased in fitted jeans.
Confusion draws brows down between your eyes giving Natasha a ‘duh what’ look. “A little too busy baking to worry about news Nat. Why don’t you spill the gossip, I’ll pretend to listen and work at the same time,” glancing at your best friend and co-worker with a knowing look.
Unbelievable how fast fifteen years flew by when there’s a business to run, a legacy to uphold and daily reminders of what you’ve lost. Inheriting the bakery from your grandmother, recipe’s, troubled pipes and all the problems to follow. Managing to keep the modest little shop afloat with neighbors and regulars stopping in every morning for fresh baked homemade goodies not sold in those big stores. Grateful to friend/family coming to rescue the old world shop in the eleventh hour to repair and replace what needed fixing.
Thoughts interrupted by Wanda’s sweet softly accented voice questioning, “What gossip did you see this morning Tasha?”
Thankful their crowd thinned out for the moment so not to witness you carefully trying not to roll your eyes. ”Yes do provide us with this scintillating news to complete our lowly lives.”
“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning Y/N,” hazel eyes could cut to the quick of any matter though there’s no heat behind her words nor stare. “Wanted to know if you saw billionaire, philanthropist, former playboy, mogul Tony Stark press conference talking about setting up an invitation only baking contest. Something about five bakery’s from all five Burrow’s competing in a month long event for get this,” giddy smile pulling ruby lips up. “The prize a half million dollar’s, years bragging rights and an exclusive deal with Stark himself, promoting your bakery, creating a brand, and making it a household name.”
This time you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at what Natasha just explained. Handing the small white bag over with a smile not reaching your those normally kind orbs. You look around heavy sigh leaving those plush lips, hands going to rest on wide hips turning to fix her with a scathing stare. “What makes you think Tony Stark would give two shits about a place like this? He’ll search the upper crust to break bread with insuring no small family owned business actually takes home the top prize.”
“We’ll see sweetheart, we’ll see,” smirk only grows larger at the tinkling bell chiming above the front door, signaling someones entered.
Throat nervously clearing, hands shoved deep into his faded jeans pockets. Looking out of place in the small bakery, “Can I help you sweetie?” Stepping from behind the counter, wiping hands on your linen covered thick thighs.
“I’m lookin’ for Y/L/N got a invitation to deliver into her hands only,” nervous wobble to Queen’s accented voice. Hands clasp out in front while rocking on the balls of his feet.
Puzzled and unsure exactly what’s going on, “That’s me. What invitation do you have, and to what young man?”
“Peter,” offering his name with a smile, loud growl rambling his stomach his nose twitching in delight of the aromas waffling through the air. Soft pink tint dusking his cheeks as his eyes dart around landing briefly on Wanda then Natasha before coming to rest on you. Peter reaches back for his pack to pull a thick envelop deep red in color and embossed with your name in big gold letters. “All the information you’ll need is in that envelope ma’am,” handing over the invitation Peter turns to go.
“Wait,” stopping him with a hand on his right shoulder. “Would you care for something to eat before you go?”
Glancing back first at you then the huge display case filled with goodies unconsciously licking his lips. “I shouldn’t still have many more invitations to deliver.”
Handing off the envelope to Natasha who eagerly accepts, starting to open when she catches the sharp shake of your head no. Soft pout replacing the smile hiding the artfully and expensive request behind her back trying to act innocent. For which you know it’s all a ploy and the moment your back’s turned she’ll have ripped it open, butting into your business. Shaking your head at the childish antics you go behind the counter to lean over the glass surface.
Attention returning to Peter, “I’m betting you more of a fruit kinda person.” Eyes light up at the mention making you smile in return. Dropping to look through the trays, landing on the last blueberry filled bismark. Pulling the tray from the case to bag up with sweet morning treat, handing if off to him.
“Thank you ma’am,” with a friendly wave, and clutching his offered gift making the mental note to return Peter takes his leave back out into the busy morning rush of New York City.
Meanwhile behind you Wanda reads the opened invitation over Natasha’s stiffened shoulder “Uh Y/N you need to read this.”
“Did I win Publishers clearing house seven thousands dollars a year gimmick?” Laughter rings through the cadence of your voice and only stops when you see the look on both of your best friends faces. “Oh God who died?”
Shaking her head slowly, “Nothing like that but you remember that competition I told you about?” Acquiescing with a sharp nod Natasha continues, “You prepared to eat your words?”
“You’re shitting me right? That’s preposterous, surely a mistake’s happened or delivered to the wrong bakery?” Snatching the thick expensive card stock page from her grasp, gold embossed letter’s spelling out your name stares back at you. “Wrong it’s all wrong.”
Light green eyes narrow at your adamant refusal to believe what’s right in front of your eyes. “Why do you doubt yourself Y/N? Everyday this place is packed, order’s come in for your delicious cakes and pies. You should have more faith in those skills keeping us from the street.”
“Thank you Wanda, I know your right but sometimes I can’t see the forest for the trees.” Giving the younger woman a grateful smile till your eyes find the name you never wanted to see again. “Why?” Single word whispered as eyes close, feeling the card start to tumble from your fingers.
Confused Wanda snatches the page from floating to the floor confused frown marring her beautiful features till finding the list of competitors. Single name standing out from the pack and a fellow Brooklyn Burrow’s team mate, one James ‘Bucky’ Barnes.
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Announcement: HELLO! I know you have all been EAGERLY awaiting my re-arrival, so BEHOLD I have returned! And with a brand new fic for all of you to enjoy. Curious why I was gone? check my blog to find a little Q/A between me and Anon!
Warnings: None, except for teeth rotting amounts of fluff lol
Request: The reader (me ) is dating chris evans it's the readers birthday, and chris evans spoiling her, taking to the hair salon and to the nail salon , and then throws a party for her, and he asks her to marry him, and a couple months later the reader is asked to been on say yes to the dress and a lot of fluff please (@maximeevansblog)
You awoke to soft nuzzles against your cheek and gentle fingers tracing your midsection.
“Happy Birthday, baby.” A soft voice murmured next to you.
You turned your face to your boyfriend, Chris Evans.
“Good morning, Love. Thank you!” You whispered to him, moving closer to his body.
Chris wrapped you into a hug before tipping your face up and kissing you.
“I’m going to spoil you today, dear.” He hummed into to your ear.
He pulled you closer, and you melted into him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck, and you whispered “I love you” before pulling him closer to you.
The two of you cuddled for another half an hour before he announced that the first stop was the nail salon. You pulled yourself out of bed and were met with a new dress, courtesy of Chris.
“Oh! This is beautiful! Thank you so much!” You grinned, rushing to put it on.
“I knew you’d like it.” He hummed, pulling you in for a kiss.
To his surprise, you pushed him away and snatched your dress, running frantically to the bathroom to put it on.
He smiled to himself, and he loved you too much to be upset.
You exited the bathroom and grinned at Chris. The velvety (Y/F/C) fabric of the dress hugged every curve of your body perfectly, and the draped pattern of the dress only accentuated your beautiful body. You did a little twirl to show it off, smiling all the while.
Chris’s eyes lit up, and his mouth fell open, “I knew I made the right choice! You look perfect, my love.” He said from the bed where he was sitting, wearing a button-down and khakis.
“Now, let's go before we miss our appointment!” He announced enthusiastically, grabbing your hand.
Chris pulled into the parking lot of a swanky nail salon and opened your door for you.
He put his arm out for you to hook yours in and walked you into the nail salon.
You stepped inside, and a friendly woman greeted you.
“Hi! Do you have an appointment?” She asked cheerily.
Chris nodded and told the employee your name, and she led you to a rack of nail polishes and gels.
“If you could please select a few colors for your mani-pedi, I can have someone with you in a moment.” The receptionist smiled before leaving you and Chris.
You gazed thoughtfully at all of the colors on the wall, but so many were enticing, and you entirely gave up on choosing.
“Baby? Can you pick some out for me, please? I don’t know what to choose… I’m torn between a combination of sky blue, Fuchsia, bright yellow, seafoam green, and black, or dark blue, vibrant magenta, sun yellow, white, and warm grey.” You sighed.
“Woah there, you just named a lot of colors.” He grinned. “I can barely tell the difference between some of those polishes.” He shook his head.
“You’re no use.” You pouted sarcastically.
He rolled his eyes at you but was smiling nonetheless. “How about just one color? What about this blue?” He selected a dark turquoise.
“I love it!” You smiled. “I’ll do that one on my toes. For my acrylics, I want one of those cute heart patterns. I’ll show you a picture!”
You pulled out your phone and showed him a vibrant pattern of overlapping hearts, and he only shook his head and chucked.
“You do you, sweetheart.”
After your nails were finished, Chris ushered you back into the car, going on and on about “another surprise.”
After 15 minutes of driving, Chris pulled into a hair salon, opening his own door and rushing around the car to open yours.
“M’lady.” He bowed, holding your door open.
You giggled and gave him a light swat on the shoulder, curtseying after getting out.
You entered the salon and were ushered over to a chair. Chris stayed in the lobby, giving you a thumbs up before your hairdresser started asking questions.
After a long while of cutting and styling, you finally had your dream haircut and color, and it looked great! It framed your delicate features perfectly, and the color complimented your skin tone and eyes.
You thanked your hairdresser and lightly jogged over to Chris. He did it once over and looked impressed.
“Well you clean up well, all thanks to me, of course.” He chided.
“Oh yeah, take all the credit.” You rolled your eyes. “What’s next, though?”
“Now we go home, and have dinner.” He smiled, but little did you know, there were already about 100 guests at the house ready to surprise you for your birthday.
“That sounds nice.” You sighed, embracing Chris as the two of you strode out of the salon.
“SURPRISE!!” Was yelled as you entered your and Chris’s house.
You jumped back, startled, but then started beaming from ear to ear, knowing Chris had set this up for you.
“Awh you big teddy bear!” You hugged Chris as he entered behind you. “Thank you guys for coming! And thanks for all the gifts, woah!” You gestured toward a table full of wrapped boxes and bags.
A chorus of happy birthdays were heard throughout the house, and you just couldn’t be happier. Everything was perfect.
Before you could say anything or thank everyone, Chris ran in front of you, and on one knee.
“Chris!” You yelled out, throwing your hands over your mouth to stop any tears of excitement from falling.
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you have made these past two years so amazing. I don’t know where I would be without you. You and your spirit are so beautiful and admirable. I love you so much, (Y/N), and so I need to ask you, will you marry me?” He popped open the case of the velvet box he was holding, and inside was one of the most stunning diamonds you had ever seen in your life.
Everything felt so surreal, and all you could do was cry.
“Yes! Chris, yes, I love you so much!” You choked through sobs.
He began to cry himself, and stood up, slipping the ring onto your finger before crafting your face in his hands and kissing you. Everything around the two of you erupted into cheers and applause, and you could swear you heard trumpets and a choir singing. It felt like a fairy tale, a happily ever after, and it was only going to get better.
News of your and Chris’s engagement had spread like wildfire, it was all the internet could talk about for 3 weeks. You received fan mail and gifts from fans around the world, congratulating you and Chris.
One fateful Tuesday morning after scrolling through your private email, you found something marked important. Curious, you opened the message to find an invite to “Say Yes To The Dress: Celebrity Version!”.
You were beyond ecstatic and forwarded it to Chris and your agent, intending to get an appointment set up as soon as possible.
Chris was just as excited as you were, and your agent was quick to get everything set up.
You simply couldn’t contain your excitement, everything was going right. You bounced around the halls of your home for days, not being able to bear waiting any longer for your filming.
A week before your appointment, you nestled into bed with Chris and hurried yourself in his figure.
“I love you, Chris Evans. Thank you.” You sleepily mumbled.
“And I you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You were the best decision I ever made.”
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Female Reader
Rating: Explicit [ if you are under 18 do not interact]
Word Count: 2519
Warnings: angst vibes, body shaming, insecurities, self doubt, degrading language (not as a kink), fatphobia, f x m smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, slight breeding kink
Summary: Sometimes you need Bucky to remind you that you’re beautiful just the way you are.
Author's Note: I wanted this so I wrote it. As a plus size person, it’s nice to read and even write about a plus size reader getting love from a favorite character. I needed this story more than I knew it. I hope you all enjoy it. Not beta’d, mistakes are my own. Thank you to @nix-akimbo for letting me use her Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader manip.
By clicking read more you are agreeing that you are above the age of 18. If you are not above the age of 18 you do not have permission to read this. This fic contains graphic sexual situations and descriptions. Nobody has permission to translate, repost, upload, or do anything with my fics. My fics are only posted on Tumblr.com and AO3, if you see them on any other site such as wattpad please let me know.
“What is she doing here? Who would want to see her in less clothes?” You heard them whisper as you looked through the different choices for lingerie, fingers ghosting over the soft silk.
You tried hard to block out the sounds of their voices and to ignore the mean words they were saying just loud enough for you to hear. What they were saying didn’t matter because you knew that your boyfriend was going to love whatever you picked out and that it wouldn’t stay on your body for long. Even though you knew this, you still felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you duck your head.
You tried to block out the sounds of their voices and ignore them, what they thought didn’t matter and you knew that. However, knowing that didn’t make the words hurt any less. You knew that you weren’t the typical girl to shop in a high end lingerie shop. You weren’t the target of the ads or what most people would find sexy. You had a soft, round belly that you were trying to suck in and hide right now to appear smaller and more like you deserved to be in the store, and thick thighs that your boyfriend loved but society didn’t.
You were mostly confident and comfortable in your skin but there were times, like right now, that people’s comments and society’s views hit you hard and made you wish that you weren’t alive. You knew how you looked, you knew that you were plus size, but you also wanted to look sexy and pretty and be treated as someone who could wear pretty lingerie to seduce your boyfriend.
“She’s probably going to go home and eat a tub of ice cream while wearing it and pretending someone likes her.” You hear another whisper, it’s answered with a laugh from the person's friend.
“I can’t believe this store even goes up to her size.”
Choking back tears you turn away from them and move further away, looking at different bra and panty sets, but you could still hear their words and laughter. It took all you had in you to last long enough to pick out a black lingerie set and take it to the counter. You kept your head lowered, not wanting to know if the cashier shared the same thoughts as everyone else in the store. You pay and grab your bag, barely making it to your car before the tears start to fall from your eyes.
You toss the bag into your passenger seat, wiping angrily at the tears in your eyes. You hated that you had let their venomous words get to you. They were wrong. They were just a couple of mean girls who didn't know any better than to hate on the fat girl.
You allow yourself just a couple of minutes to cry and feel the hurt before you start to drive home. You weren’t going to let those girls ruin your night. You were going to have a great night with your boyfriend and he was going to fuck you like you were the only women that mattered.
When you got home you headed straight to your bathroom and ran a bubble bath for yourself. A soft sigh falls from your lips as you sink into the tub, the water and bubbles not fully covering your body, but making you feel relaxed as you try hard to forget the words that you heard said about you in the store. You were beautiful, you told yourself, and worthy. You take your time to wash your hair with the green apple shampoo that you knew your boyfriend enjoyed smelling on you. You wash your hair a couple of times, getting it to that silky smooth that you enjoyed so much. Then you took time to wash your body with a coconut cream wash that made you smell like you were fresh off a beach.
Getting out of the tub, you avoid looking in the mirror and dry yourself off. You always had to work up to looking at yourself and liking what you saw. You get yourself dry and move into your bedroom, pulling your new bra and panty set out of the bag and laying them onto the bed. It looked good, sexy, and you hoped that it looked as good as you wanted it to on you. Taking a deep breath you grab the panties and pull them on, pulling them over your thighs and up your body. They fit, sitting low on your hips and just below your belly button. You sighed in relief, thinking the universe that they were for you. Next you grab the bra and slip it on, arranging your boobs so that they look good in the cups.
It takes you a few more moments of hyping yourself up before you go to the mirror and look at yourself. The black looks good against your skin and it fits you, but after the time you had in the store you couldn’t help but criticize yourself. Your belly was too large, thighs too thick, your breasts weren’t perfect and perky the way you would like them to be. All the negative thoughts you had about yourself started playing on a record. Your hands roam over your stomach, pushing it in to try and make it look smaller, picking it up as you twist and turn.
You sigh and make your way over to your closet, standing in front of it as you try to find something to put over the set so that you could hide the way you looked. You didn’t get to put anything on, however, because you hear your apartment door open and shut, signaling your boyfriend was home and that brought a rush of excitement, and a little worry, to you.
Biting your lip, you slip into your heels and make your way into the living room, standing on the threshold. You lean against the wall, crossing your arms around your middle to try and hide a bit and wait for him to look at you.
Nobody has ever looked at you the way Bucky Barnes looks at you and right now he was looking at you as if he wanted to devour you.
“Baby, fuck, look at you.” He lets his bag fall to the floor and crosses the room in just a few seconds. He licks his lips as he takes you in, his eyes running down your body and over every curve. He reaches out and tugs on your arms, moving them away from your body so he could see you. “You look so fucking good, is this new? Why are you trying to hide?”
You thought you would be able to hide how you were feeling because the moment Bucky looks at you and asks why you’re hiding you just crumble. Tears well up in your eyes and the story tumbles out of you without your permission. He listens, rubbing his hands up and down your arms before he pulls you into a tight hug, pressing your face against his chest. It felt so good to be wrapped in his strong arms, his hand rubbing your back as he lets you cry and tell him what’s wrong.
“They’re wrong, baby.” Bucky says, pulling back and looking at you. “You look incredibly sexy in this little number and it’s giving me all sorts of thoughts. Not only that, but you’re beautiful inside and out. You have an amazing personality, you make me laugh, you make me happy. Nobody in this world can make me feel the way you do.”
You wipe your eyes, letting Bucky’s words wash over you. He was right, he was always right and he always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better on days like this. He reaches forward, grabbing your chin gently and tilting your face up to look at you and leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“I’m going to show you how much I love you and your body.” Bucky murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip. “Into the bedroom you go baby.”
He spanks your bottom playfully and follows you into the bedroom. When you get to the bedroom, Bucky picks you up and tosses you playfully onto the bed as if you weighed half your size. It makes you giggle when he does it. You watch him as he undresses, taking just enough time to have you whining because you wanted his hands on you. He laughs and pushes his pants off, finally getting naked before he crawls onto the bed.
He runs his hands up your legs before he spreads your thighs, his fingers dancing lighty over your clothed core.
“Do you have any idea just how beautiful you baby girl? Fuck, look at you. Spread out for me and just wanting for me to fuck you and make you mine. Maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you this time.” Bucky groans and his words have a moan being pulled from you.
You liked it when Bucky talked dirty to you, it made you feel wanted. It made you feel good. You rock your hips a little and let out an excited whine when he gets the hint and slips his fingers under your lace panites and runs a finger through your wet folds.
“Fuck baby girl, already fucking wet for me.” Bucky runs his finger through your folds again before he pulls his hand out of your panties.
“Bucky.” You whine, reaching for him.
“It’s okay baby, I’m going to take care of you.I want to see your pretty pussy and right now it’s hidden behind these pretty panties.” Bucky growls.
He grabs your panites and pulls them over your stomach, over your hips, and then over your thick thighs. He tosses them to the side, spreading your legs so that he can see your pussy, licking his lips at the sight of you. He reaches out and touches you softly, licking the soft sounds he pulls from you as he does so. He runs his fingers through your folds, finding your clit and circling the nub. He rubs his finger over it, grinning as you let out the prettiest moans and groans, begging him for more.
He teases you for a few moments before he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy, eliciting the most delicious groan from your lips. You loved the way that he touches you. He touches you with such care, such love, such want, that it overwhelms you at times. You couldn’t believe that Bucky wanted you, that he had picked you to spend his time with. Even now, as he pushes his fingers in and out of your pussy, you found it hard to believe that he wanted you.
“Enough thinking doll.” Bucky says as if he can read your mind. He moves so that he’s hovering over you, fingers still deep in your pussy, and leans down, pressing his lips to yours. He kisses you in a way that takes your breath away and has your body pressing up against his, your arms wrapping around his neck.
His tongue mingles with yours, lips moving against yours as if he needed to kiss you to survive and before you know it he’s worked you up to the edge of your orgasm. Your breath comes out in pants, begs of “please” falling from your lips as your orgasm builds. He doesn’t stop to tease you like he normally would, instead he brings his thumb up to circle and play with your clit. It’s just the extra that you need for you to tumble over the edge, his name falling from your lips like sin as you cum, pussy clenching around his fingers and your body shaking.
“That’s a good girl. Give me all you got.” Bucky’s voice is in your ear, low and just for you and it drives you fucking crazy. You hold him close, whimpering at the pleasure running through your body.
He pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips to lick them clean.
“You taste so sweet my love, maybe later I’ll get even more of a taste of your sweet pussy.” Bucky murmurs, moving his body over yours more, pushing his cock slowly into you.
“Fuck Bucky.” You moan out as you feel his cock push into you.
He has a thick cock that feels good inside of you, long enough to reach all of the places inside of you that drove you crazy but not too long that it would be uncomfortable. Bucky runs his hands over your stomach and up your sides, touching you every place that he could as he starts to move his body, fucking into you the way that you liked him to. He leans down, pressing kisses over your face, down your neck, over your breast.. Anywhere that he could reach just so that he could have his mouth on you. You loved it, loved the way his mouth, his hands felt on you. It made you feel special, it made you feel wanted. He made you feel special.
The words that you heard that day melted away as he fucks into you, whispering dirty words into your ear. You were beautiful and Bucky loved the way you looked. That’s what mattered, not what other people thought.
“Fuck I love you baby. Love your perfect body, love that there’s so much for me to love and play with.” Bucky groans as he pulls back to look at you. His eyes roam over your body, full of lust and love. It’s like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted, that he’ll ever want.
Your bodies move together, both of you working to the goal of feeling the bliss of pleasure that your orgasm is going to bring you. He whispers in your hear how much he loves you, how much he wants you, that he’s going to fuck a baby into you. You love every bit of it. You love him.
You know he’s getting close when his thrust starts to falter, his breathing getting heavier and he slips a hand between the two of you so he can play with your clit.
“I, fuck, baby, want you to cum with me. Can you do that for me baby girl?” Bucky almost begs, pulling back to look you in the eyes.
You nod, desperate for him, desperate to cum with him. It’s not much longer before his cock is throbbing inside of you and he buries it deep as he cums inside of you. You cum with him, the shouts of each other's names mingling together as you both find your release and feel good.
He falls on top of you with a satisfied sigh, kissing your lips before he rolls off of you.
“I love you doll, don’t you ever forget that. You’re perfect just the way you are.” Bucky says, looking over at you with a smile.
“I love you too Bucky.”
friend tag: @nix-akimbo @eurynome827 @steveng-rogers @uncafeavecbarnes
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Sinful Delights (Baker Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader) Summary teaser and taglist.
Tag List’s are open for this story and all those to come. If you want to be tagged reblog with a comment this post, reply or send me a message or ask. Enjoy, comments are always welcome.
Treats to tempt the palate, decadent delights so sinful they need a warning label, the pull of love so strong it could turn enemies to lovers in a battle over who’s desserts take top honors. Half million dollar’s and bragging rights offered up as prize though not the only reward risked in this winner takes all battle royale.
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The Auction: Part 11
The event was being held outdoors, and despite your initial protests, you let Tony take the reins of the party planning, with the clear message to keep the event in a style that Steve and Bucky and yourself would like. With the promise that the theme wouldn’t be outrageous or an eyesore, or something that would even be jabbing toward Steve or Bucky, the event was planned under strict promises.
When you arrived at the estate Tony had rented out for the night, the first sight that caught your eye was the row of Edison string lights that were hung from the gate separating the entrance to the estate grounds, from the large wooden doors that granted access to the inside of the home. The light emits a soft glow that encapsulated the fairytale aesthetic of the building; the faded grey stone exterior had almost looked like a castle in New York.
“Wow,” you gazed wide-eyed at the mansion and the light and pastel-coloured roses that spun around the stone support pillars on the front steps and the red carpet that rolled down the broad steps into the building beneath the closed front doors, “this is beautiful.”
The car that picked you up and drove you from the city to the rented mansion had stopped just short of the staircase. As the car came to a stop, the driver got out of the car and walked around to your side. He opened the door and held his hand out for you to take, which you did, and when you stepped out onto the red carpet-covered stone, your attention was drawn toward the two wooden doors that had now since opened, and the two men standing in the threshold.
You lift your head and made eye contact with them both, Steve on the left dressed in a dark blue suit that matched his eyes, and Bucky dressed in a black suit that made his entire figure seem more imposing.
“You look good.” You stood on the landing, speaking to both of them. “You look outstanding.”
“So do you,” Bucky came to your side and wrapped his left around your waist, tucking himself against you.
“You think so?” You tilt your head and turned in his embrace, chest to chest. You leaned in and kissed him softly, your hands running up and down the lapels of his suit. “We could leave.”
“We could,” Steve spoke from behind you, “but do you want to hear Tony whine about it for the next month?”
You turned from Bucky and cast an appreciative gaze upon Steve. His suit not only brought out the colour of his eyes, but it also made his eyes look brighter and more captivating than they already did. His suit, like Bucky’s, made him appear larger and more foreboding, which in turn made you feel comfortable between them. They made you feel normal, despite being a plus-size woman, and that was only a part of what drew you to them.
“I’d rather not,” you laughed under your breath.
“I hope you’re ready to dance, dame.” Bucky slid his arm back around your waist.
“Don’t think you can steal her all night, punk.” Steve followed behind you, his eyes burning holes into your back and lower, as he checked you out shamelessly.
“You gonna make me share, Stevie?” Bucky flashed him a grin.
“Damn right I am.” Steve stopped you two before entering the garden before other people would consume the whole night. He closed the distance and placed his hand against your cheeks before he dipped his head and brushed his lips against your own.
Your hands grabbed onto his suit and pulled him closer, trapped willingly between Steve and Bucky. While you were delightfully pressed against Steve, with your back to Bucky, you felt his hands slipping around the front of your waist and back to your hips.
“Come on, love birds!” Nat broke the moment; she interrupted the kiss and the small touches with a smirk on her face and a look in her eyes that spoke to her pride.
“We could slip out the back,” you mumbled into Steve’s shoulder when you rest your forehead against him, “Tony be damned.”
“Come on, doll,” Bucky whispered into your ear, “anyone who looks as good as you needs to show themselves off.”
You laughed and shook your head. You all indulged Tony because he wouldn’t let it go. You all just went along with it because that was how Tony showed his love for his friends, but when it came to the actual engagement party, it would be much smaller. This was more of a PR stunt, a public celebration.
“Fine,” you pulled away from Steve and sighed, “but you two owe me.”
You cracked a half-grin, walking behind Steve and in front of Bucky as the three of you finally made it to the garden.
The flashing that immediately followed the three of you stepping out was blinding. The ear-splitting chaotic mess of people trying to speak over one another was irritating, it was grating, and you fought against your instinct to turn around and go back inside.
“You’re okay,” Steve mumbled into your hair, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and shielding you with his large frame as he helped you down the stairs and away from the shuttering cameras.
“That was too much.” You frowned, feeling like you’d just had your privacy invaded, despite being in a public space. “Tony owes us all.”
“Damn right he does.” The statement was unanimous. It was felt by all three of you who had indulged Tony because he would either whine about it most condescendingly or because he was a friend and he was only trying to help.
“We can still have fun, sweetheart.” Bucky wove his fingers in with yours. “We can spend all night on the dance floor.”
“I’m a terrible dancer.” You countered.
“Bucky’s a great dancer. Just let him lead.” Steve kissed you silently and quickly, pulling back as Bucky swept you away. “I’m coming to steal her soon, Buck!”
He didn’t stop until you both were on the dance floor. As the band started a tune known to Bucky, but not yourself, his arm moved higher up your waist while his hand held yours firmly yet not painfully.
“Eyes on me, gorgeous.” He grinned. “Don’t look away and let me lead.”
“Bucky-“ you squealed when he started moving to the beat, moving to the tune. He was flawless; he carried himself with ease unknown.
“You’re doing great!” He complimented you and then threw you into a dip before he pulled you back up, your laughter the only incident that caused you to slip up, though Bucky was quick to recover.
“How did you learn to dance so well?” You giggled, leaning flush against him.
“I was a lady’s man, honey.” He stole a kiss in the middle of the dance, completely ignorant, you both were, to the other bodies on the dance floor.
“Should I be jealous, Mr. Barnes?” The beat changed, the song changed to something slow and sensual, which was meant to be loving and tender.
“Any of the dames I ran with are either dead or old,” Bucky moved his hand again, his palm resting against the small of your back, heat penetrating and radiating from his hand through your dress, “you have nothing to be envious of, Mrs. Barnes.”
You rest your head against the crook of his neck, your eyes fluttering closed. You hummed to the tune that you didn’t quite know and let yourself be embraced by the scent of his cologne and his warmth, by the strength in his arms and shoulders.
“Mrs. Barnes,” you beamed, “that sounds amazing.
“Or Mrs. Barnes-Rogers.” Bucky’s rumbled against your ear, the vibration bringing you a sense of peace.
“Bucky…” you pulled away and looked up at him, your eyes searching his. You opened your mouth to speak again, to say something to him, only to shut it again when his PA called his name.
“Mr. Barnes,” Courtney came through the crowd with two champagne glasses in her hands, one for you and one for him, “Mr. Rogers wanted me to let you know that Mr. Stark said you’d make a speech. The three of you.”
You sighed and hung your head back against his shoulder. You didn’t want to make a speech; you didn’t want to get up in front of all these people and say something. That wasn’t your job as a PA, and you didn’t want to do it now.
“It won’t be that bad, sweetheart.” Bucky kissed the top of your head and grabbed the drinks from Courtney, nudging one of them against your arm. “One speech, and then we can spend the rest of the time dancing.”
You pulled away and sighed. You took the drink from Bucky and lift it to your lips, downing the alcohol inside in one swallow. When it was emptied, you rolled your shoulders back and cracked your neck.
“Feel better, Y/N?” Courtney asked, taking the glass from you once more. “Feel a little more relaxed?”
“Enough to make a speech,” as the champagne settled in your stomach, Bucky reached for your waist again. He pulled you into his side and kissed into your hair, leaving behind his PA, who only let her guard down when your backs were turned, and you were out of earshot.
“Won’t be long, bitch.”
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