#bucky barns fanfiction
cold sunday morning - b.b
summary: another beautiful sunday morning with bucky
pairing: bucky barnes x librarian!female!reader
warning: shy!reader, unprotected sex, bucky finishes inside reader, smut
(18+ minors DNI)
an: last part of my bucky series yay! thank you for all the love you guys have given this series! also first time writing smut in a long time and my first time writing it for marvel characters so bare with me!!! enjoy!!! :) (also still on vacation so didnt have a ton of time to edit)
part one | part two | part three
“C’mon, doll, you have to get up.”
It’s been about a month since Bucky asked you to be his girlfriend, which obviously you said yes. Not much has changed between the two of you. He still came and saw you everyday at the library. Saturday nights he stayed at your place, so he was there to help you on Sunday’s.
You pulled the comforter over your head, as though it would protect you from anymore of Bucky’s attempts to wake you up. Getting up early had never been an issue for you, but the nights you shared a bed with him, that completely changed. For two reasons. One, the two of you tended to stay up later than when you two were separated. Two, his presence was so warm and inviting, making you never want to leave.
“We have to leave in forty-five minutes.” You heard his voice in between sleep, his metal hand creeping under the duvet and placed on your exposed leg. The cool metal against your warm skin caught you off guard, a tired gasp passing your lips. He pulled the comforter from your grip, quite easily, and you whined at the brightness in the room.
Finally, you forced your eyes open, immediately met with Bucky’s bright blue ones. He was kneeling down by your side of the bed, head propped up on his chin, only a couple inches from your face. You could feel his cool thumb rubbing against your leg. “Hi.” He said, a smile on his face. It was hard for you to resist smiling back at him, but you tried your best. “I can see you smiling.” He insisted.
“No I’m not.” Trying to stifle any laughter, you buried your head into your pillow. “I will forcibly pick you up out of this bed.” You heard him threaten, and stand up from his kneeling position. “Fine.” You huffed, sitting up in your bed. Stretching your arms over your head and your legs out in front of you. “I’m stealing some of your cereal.” He said, exiting your room and walking towards the kitchen.
You weren’t far behind him, navigating through your apartment by memory, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes. There was the sound of bowls clinking together, and rummaging through cabinets. The kitchen was brighter than your bedroom, making you grunt at the sudden light change.
Finally after some adjusting, your eyes started to function normally. Bucky was standing in the middle of your kitchen, eating his breakfast at the island. “I poured you some cereal, but I don’t know how much milk you like.” He explained, using his milk-covered spoon to point towards your bowl. After filling up the bowl, you brought it towards the island to stand with Bucky.
“How long have you been awake?” You asked him, before bringing a spoonful up to your mouth. “I woke up at like six.” Bucky always woke up super early, no matter what time he went to bed. That man could function off four hours of sleep with no problem. “Did you go on a run?” He nodded. That was also something he did every morning, when weather permitted.
The two of you enjoyed your breakfast together, before getting dressed so you could head to the library. “Oh my gosh, you own a pair of blue jeans.” You said jokingly, acting shocked. Bucky rolled his eyes at you, buttoning up his pants. Ever since you met him, he had only worn black pants. He was pairing, well obviously blue jeans, but also, a navy blue long-sleeve undershirt with a grey shirt sleeve over top.
It was colder in New York now, so Bucky ditched his bike and settled for an enclosed vehicle for the next couple months. You did most of the driving when you two were together though, which you didn’t mind. On cold days like today, Bucky always went out and started your car for you, so it was warmed up by the time you were ready to leave. Which you appreciated so much.
“It’s freezing.” Your teeth chattered walking into the library. The building was so old it barely held any heat in it, but you chucked up the thermostat anyway. Even Bucky pulled on his leather jacket. “Is there any insulation left in this place?” He asked sarcastically, wrapping his arms around himself. “Well, this place is older than you, so I’m sure it’s all disintegrated in the walls by now.”
It took awhile for the heat to kick in, but as said earlier, it didn’t warm up as much as you wanted it to. Bucky and you put books away, him reaching the shelves you could not. You had gotten so cold that you searched for the blanket you kept under your desk, and wrapped it around yourself.
“I can’t feel my fingers.” You laughed, placing your cold fingers against Bucky’s face. He jerked away from you, making you laugh. “C’mere.” Was all he said, his metal hand grabbing yours, which was a lot colder than yours. You had an idea as to where he was taking you. There was a little couch closer to the back of the library. It was somewhere that if you didn’t know where you were going, you would get lost in all the shelves.
You soon proved yourself right as you caught sight of the old dark green couch. He released your hand, and took a seat in the middle of the couch. “Sit on my lap, I’ll warm you up.” He explained, putting his hands out like he was asking for a hug. You shot your eyebrow up at him. He rolled his eyes, “Fine.”
His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him, so the front of your calves touched the couch. You stared at him, and he beckoned you to sit one last time. Giving in, you put each knee on the outside of his hips, so that your chests were together. You wrapped your hands around his abdomen, and you felt the blanket be pulled tighter against your back.
Between Buck and the blanket, you began to warm up, regaining some of the feeling back in your fingers. Letting out a content sigh, you rested your head into the crook of his neck. He kept his metal hand off to the side, not wanting to accidently shock you with its cold nature. His right hand, rubbed up and down your back. Basically lulling you to sleep.
“We can’t nap.” Removing your head from between his shoulder and neck, and looking at him. His eyes were closed and head tipped back against the sofa. “We’re not, we’re resting our eyes.” He insisted, not moving. “Well, I’m gonna go back to cleaning.” You tried to get up, but his hands flew to your waist, his head still not moving. “No.” Was all he said.
His grip was tight, and you were no match for his strength, maybe with his right hand, but definitely not his left hand. But you had the upper hand in one sense. Something the super soldier didn’t want anyone to know was that he was actually quite ticklish. You found this out in quite a funny way.
The two of you were watching a movie on your couch. His head was resting on your chest, and you were scratching his back. Without thinking, you ran your fingers down his sides, and he flipped out. You completely forgot about the movie and spent the next twenty minutes trying to tickle him, but it was to no avail. Once he was fed up with your attempts, he used his vibranium hand to lock your hands above your head, and they weren’t budging. After that things escalated quite quickly, and ever since then he’s used that hand on you quite a bit.
And you thought it would be a good idea to try and crack the tough facade Bucky had once again, knowing one of his weaknesses. To evade any suspicion, you placed your head back onto his chest. You slowly unwrapped your arms from around his abdomen, making his grip tighten on your waist. “I’m not going anywhere, chill out.”
Your hands slowly grabbed the bottom of his shirt, slipping your hands underneath his undershirt. “What’re you doing?” He asked, not moving. “My hands are cold, I need skin to skin contact.” He sucked in a quick breath, as your hands made contact with the warm skin of his chest. You waited a couple minutes, before slowly moving your hands outward. “Hey.” He warned, head tipping forward to look down at you.
You dodged his eye contact, still moving your hands. Right as you reached his side, he moved fast. His hands removed their tight grip from your waist, quickly to your wrist, through his shirt. You could hear the whirring of the mechanics in his arm due to his fast movement. “Do you remember what happened last time you did that?”
His lips were right next to your ear, breath warm against your cheek. His voice was low, like a growl. Your cold body, quickly warmed up at his words. A sudden ache grew between your thighs, warmth growing in your lower abdomen. You were never one for dirty talk, it made you feel uncomfortable most of the time. But something clicked at that moment.
“No, I think I need a reminder.” You still couldn’t meet his eyes when saying it, but you felt him tense up. His metal index pressed under your chin, making you meet his gaze. His eyes were a darker blue than normal, his stare was intimidating, so you tried to look away. But he wouldn’t let you. He gripped your chin tighter, now between his thumb and index finger.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, doll.” He chuckled, his lips were unbelievably soft. You could still taste the coffee he drank this morning. The kisses were light, but needy. His grip on your right wrist loosened, enough for you to tangle your fingers in his hair. Bucky’s hand left your chin, and played with the bottom of your shirt.
His hands trailed up your abdomen, towards your chest and you nipped his bottom lip between your teeth. Making a small groan pass his lips. You expect his hands to stop at your breast, but instead his index fingers locked around each of your bra straps, slowly pulling them down your shoulders. They fell to your elbows, his hand sneaking towards you back and unsnapped the clasps of your bra, letting it fall into his lap.
His fingers trailed back towards your breast, his thumbs circling your nipples. Subconsciously, you moaned, feeling more arousal seep into your panties. Using the hand tangled in his hair, you pulled his head back, exposing all of his neck to you. Your nose traced down the side of his throat, lips skimming over the sensitive skin, but not giving in with kisses.
He kneaded your breast with his palms and fingers, paying extra attention to your nipples, knowing it made you much more reactive. You desperately ground your hips against the rough fabric of his jeans. You heard him chuckle, but it went in one ear and out the other. It wasn’t until he spoke that you were pulled out of your trance, “Stand up.”
You didn’t protest, although your legs were shaking with anticipation, you stood in front of him. Using his shoulders to stabilize yourself. He tossed your bra from his lap, and scooted so that he was sitting on the edge of the couch. His hands ran up and down the side of your legs for a while, before they slowly stretched over your ass. The tightness of his grip, shocked you, your hands tightening their grip on his shoulders. He laughed at your gasp.
“I hate you.” You muttered, squeezing his shoulders. Without a word, he gripped the waistband of your leggings, and panties, pulling them down to your ankles. With a mixture between a grunt and a gasp, he pulled you back onto his lap. “Don’t say that, doll.” He had a pout on his face, but he was definitely poking fun. “You’re an ass.” You smirked, pulling his lips against yours.
His metal hand gripped your hip, keeping you on your knees and hovering over his lap. His flesh hand dipped between your legs, his thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing in small, circular motions. Your moan broke the kiss, only becoming more and more frequent as he quickened his pace. A tightening feeling grew in the stomach. As an instinct, you buried your face in the crook on his neck.
He stopped his movements, you whined at the fleeting feeling between your legs. “I wanna see your face, baby.” His voice was smooth and deeper than normal. Retracting slowly from his neck, you were soon back face to face. “There you are.” He muttered, his metal hand coming up to grab the side of your face. His thumb rested against your bottom lip. Placing the cool metal
between your teeth, the tip of your tongue circled the thumb pad, following the grooves of the metal.
A mixture of a growl and a groan fell past his lips, making a sense of confidence swell. His right hand started up again, making your knees buckle for a moment. His index finger pressing between your folds, accumulating the falling arousal. His slick finger pushes inside you slowly, causing you to suck in a quick breath. He gives you a couple seconds to adjust before, ever so slowly, pumping it in and out.
“Holy shit.” You mutter, pressing your forehead against his. A whine passed your lips, making him quicken his pace. His thumb works over time, the circular motions becoming more sloppy. One of your hands falls to his blue jeans, thumb and index finger fiddling with the button. “Not yet.” Was all he said, a huff of irritation passing your lips.
You felt the tightening appear back in your stomach, “Buck, I-“ That was all you could muster, but he understood. Tightly you clenched around his finger, ragged breaths passing your lips. Your eyes screwed shut, and your head tipped back. Bucky took the opportunity to kiss along your throat, adding to the wave of pleasure. Your chest rose and fell at a rapid rate, as you came down from the rush. His finger soon left, making you feel empty.
His finger glistened as he brought it up to his lips, pushing it past them, licking it clean. The sight made your jaw drop, he hummed, content. “You’re a sicko.” You laughed, although it turned you on immensely. “I could do that forever.” He muttered against your lips, before slotting them together. You could taste some of yourself on his tongue, and he knew that.
Now both of your hands worked at the button of his pants, getting it undone, along with the zipper. “Already?” He chuckled. It usually takes you a couple minutes to recover and then starting round two, but not today. You pulled both of your knees to one side, making it easier for him to pull down his pants. When he did, his dick sprang free. He pulled you back over his waist, and you lined him up with your entrance.
As he went to guide your hips again you stopped him, he looked up at you, worried. “I wanna do it.” You caught him off guard, but he looked pleased, nonetheless. “You’re in control, doll.” He smiled, tipping his head back against the couch again. Grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself, sinking slowly onto his dick. The noises that left Bucky’s mouth made you feel accomplished already. His thumbs dug deeper into your hip bones, knowing it would leave a mark.
“Fuck, doll.” Tipping his head back towards you, meeting your gaze. You came back up on your knees, so that the tip was the only thing still inside you. Teasing him, slowly sinking back down. A strangled moan came up his throat, egging you on. You were able to do this a couple more times, before his grip on your hips stopped you.
“You’ve lost privileges.” He announced, forcing you back down his entire length. This knocked the breath out of you for a moment. Using the leverage of your hips, he guided you up and down his dick, that tension building in your stomach again. “Bucky…” You moaned, dragging out the ‘y’ in his name. His thrust got more sloppy and he wasn’t able to keep his rhythm as well, he was close.
You helped him keep pace as he was building up his orgasm. “(Y/F/N), holy shit, you’re so tight.” His metal hand left your hip, when he noticed your help, and began to draw those tight circles on your clit again. Between his dick and fingers, you were done for. The bundle in your stomach burst, and you clenched around him. Even wrapped up in your own high, you felt his hips stop. He emptied himself inside you.
The two of you sat there for a couple moments, catching your breaths. Each part of your body felt heavy, and you were unwilling to move, Bucky still inside you. “I could go for a nap now.” You mumbled, putting your head on his chest. He laughed, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “Me too.” He wrapped his arms around you.
“At least we’re not cold anymore.”
3 notes · View notes
To make up for the hurt of the last chapter, here’s some comfort
3 notes · View notes
𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔰𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱
3 notes · View notes
Icy Winds - Part 5
A/N - Angst, but make it comedial 😃. Also, surprise surprise Slutz 💞💞.
|| WARNINGS || Language, Explicit themes, Sexual themes, Unprotected sex, Threesome (M x M x F), Oral (both M and F receiving), fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, insane sensitivity, Professor Kink, Double penetration (in vagina only), Hair-pulling Kink, praise kink, sub and dom complex (reader switches often), spitting kink, choking kink, Rough sex, BDSM (very light), Angst Galore, pet names, Age gap (reader in her early 20s, Steve and Bucky in their late 30s),
|| PAIRINGS || Dark!Professor!Steve x Dark!Professor!Bucky x Dark!Student!Reader
1.2k Words (This one's a little shorter. It's a workup chapter to part six)
"It's strange. Usually, in a coma, patients can't react much. Although it's uncommon, sometimes they can hear and feel everything, but they can't talk or be responsive at all." "So what does that mean, Doc?" "It means that unlike Steven and James, Y/N isn't in a coma."
You snorted, "James. Hah. That's funny. That's like those names that those boomer fuckboys have." The dark-skinned man in your room's eyes went wide. "Watch your mouth, Sweetheart. Here, sleep for a while." You frowned, "I don't even know you, who are you?" The man blinked, "Sam, I'm Samuel Wilson, your best friend..."
You sighed, looking the man that was apparently Sam, up and down, "I think I'd remember having a bestfriend this hot." Sam turned towards the doctor, "I don't know how to take that." You smirked as the two men moved aside to talk a little more privately, "A compliment, babe."
Sam watched as you reclined back in your bed and brought your fingers up to dance delicately on your bandages before wincing and pulling away. "Memory loss, Doc?" The doctor sighed, "Yes. She's suffered quite the blow to her head in the accident and then she tried to cauterize herself. It should come of no surprise that she suffers brain trauma, which inadvertently affects her memory as well."
Sam sighed as he tapped his fingers on the table standing next to him. "Well, what does she remember?" "I'm afraid other than any academic details, she remembers nothing." Sam paused, pursing his lips, "That means she remembers nothing of her personal life?" "That's right." The doctor left Sam and you to have some privacy as you watched Sam lean onto the table and take heaving breaths. Was he crying?
"Hey, don't be sad I don't remember you. The doctor said I could be suffering from memory loss. But if you say your my best friend, then I believe you." Sam turned around, eyes red and wet and you gave him your bravest smile, despite the fact that you were both in physical and emotional turmoil and pain yourself. "Thank you, Sweetheart. Now, sleep. Seriously." You nodded as you sunk into the semi-soft gurney and let your eyes close.
"Hey guys. The doc said you could hear me so I thought I'd put your minds to ease and make sure you know that Y/N's alright. She's resting." Sam looked over at the heart monitors to see the previously scattered heart rate relax a little. So they could hear him. "Y/N... well she suffers from memory loss. Guess you guys could get that restart you always wanted with her, huh?" Sam joked as he sat down on the bed beside Steve.
Bucky was on the gurney a few feet away from his husband. Both of them looked utterly fucked up and so did Y/N. Baggy eyes, black and blue marks all over their bodies, bloody gashes adorning their faces. Sam was enraged, he couldn't think straight. All he knew was that he had to kill off the rivaling gang that had killed both Wanda and Pietro, and had almost killed Steve, Bucky and Y/N.
So Sam brought in the most dangerous and reckless person he could think of, because that's what Sam needed to be right now, dangerous and reckless. If he was in his senses, he might have thought of the complications and risk, but he didn't. He called the one man who would fix this, the one man who had ran away so many years ago.
You slapped Sam's arm, your face portraying such raw shock that Sam had trouble stiffling his laugh. "Shut up! You're telling me the Earth isn't flat!" Sam rolled his eyes, "I thought the doctor said all academic memories will still be intact. Guess you have a loose nut up there." You chuckled as you leaned back and relaxed in the bed. "Man, I'm glad I have a bestfriend like you, even if I don't remember you."
Sam frowned slightly, he wasn't a good friend, at all. Nevertheless he was glad he got a second chance with you. Suddenly you sat straight up in bed like an excited chihuahua. "Do I have... a boyfriend?" Sam grimaced. How could he explain your situation. Like, no Y/N, you don't have a boyfriend, you have two psychopaths who kidnapped you and force you to fuck them...
Luckily, Sam was saved by having to answer that question as someone knocked the door. "C'mon in." You shouted.
A man with a sharp black suit, black sunglasses resting in the front pocket, long dress shoes and salt and pepper hair walked in. He made his way to your bedside as he smiled down at you. "Hey baby. I'm back." You furrowed your brows, "I'm sorry... who are you?" The man looked over at Sam with an incredulous expression.
"I did mention that she lost her memory, right?" Sam asked and the man shrugged, "Yeah, because this is the face of a person in the know." Sam sighed, "Maybe don't drop this bomb on her just yet." You narrowed your eyes at the man as you assessed his dark brown eyes, they unnerved you, they made you feel... angry yet secured.
"I'm not going to lie to my daughter." You gasped in shock, "Dad?" The man smiled over at you, "It's me baby. Daddy's back."
Sam chewed on his lip nervously as he paced Steve and Bucky's room. A million questions flood his head.
How will Sam tell them about Y/N's dad being back when they wake up? Will they wake up? How will they react when they find out who Y/N's dad is? Will they kill Sam for hiding this from them? Was all this really worth it?
"I can hear your brain noise from here. What's up?" Sam looked over at the owner of the scratchy and dry voice. "Steve... you're up?" "You don't sound so happy, Wilson." Sam chuckled, "I'm ecstatic." Steve sighed, "I feel like there a but coming." "I have to tell you something." "What did you do now, Wilson?"
"N-nothing. I might have... called... Y/N's dad..." Steve shrugged, "So? Why are you so scared to tell me that?" Sam took a deep breath as he turned to Steve, his whole body trembled and shook. He knew he had fucked up, real bad, he remembered 5 years ago...
"Tell them I died. Fake my death somehow." "But, what about Y/N?" Sam's closest friend and Y/N's dad looked over at the young woman practicing throwing knives at the dartboard. "She'll be okay." "You've got a lot of loose ends here." "Then tie em up." "You know I've never been good at this shit." The man grabbed Sam's shoulders. His eyes were crazed.
"They're all after me, Sam. They're all after me and if they're after me then they're after Y/N. Do you understand that I'm doing this to keep her safe?" "What about Steve and Bucky? They're going to be crushed if you die." "They'll find a way to survive. Everyone eventually does."
And so Sam helped him fake his death, escape from the country and live his life anew somewhere else. But now he was back and he was the main link between Y/N, Steve and Bucky and that was bad... really, really bad. It could reveal Y/N's past and if that happened, it would be the end of her...
"Jesus, you look like you're about to pass out. What's wrong?" Sam looked into Steve's eyes, "Y/N's father isn't just anyone..." Steve scoffed, "Alright, who is it?" Sam bit his lip as he found his courage to look into Steve's blue eyes. "Y/N's father is Tony."
|| Permanent Taglist || @bucksfucks @marvelfansworld @speechlessxx @ladydmalfoy @babyboibucky
|| Series Taglist || @vicmc624 @wicked-mind
6 notes · View notes
moments of affection; b.b.
a/n: this is entirely self indulgent because i feel like blah and im in my feels. also want to say here, even though this is not nsfw, it's still 18+
be sure to let me know what you think! reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated :)
summary; three different moments of affection between you and bucky.
bucky barnes x reader
WARNINGS: a little suggestive at the end but still sfw. alpine. cute bucky. established relationship. work drama.
word count: 1.1k
“Oh you won’t believe what went down today,” you announce as soon as you walk through the door and into Bucky’s apartment.
He’s on the couch with Alpine cuddled into his side and he reaches over to pause the show he was watching.
He chuckles at your statement asks, “was it crazier than the other day?”
“WAY crazier, so you remember Hannah right? The new girl that’s working at the front desk? The one that I despise?”
“I remember you told me she always smells like skittles,” Bucky recounts and you nod your head at him.
Hurriedly, you untie your shoelaces and kick off your shoes. You slide your feet underneath yourself as you sit next to Bucky.
“Yes, her! Well she had a fucking meltdown and screamed at my boss during our busiest hour. The cops came and everything.”
“Mmhm, she felt like she wasn’t being treated right because she kept being told to not cut her nails on the desk.” Alpine stretches her paw onto Bucky’s leg and you giggle at her, leaning over him to rub her head.
“Cut her nails on the desk? That’s what it was over.”
Bucky did not think his first conversation with you when he got back from his mission would be about Hannah, the girl you despise, but he is not complaining.
The way your face lights up as you tell him a story is something he always looks forward to.
“Yeah, ridiculous, isn’t it? The cops didn’t really do much, they just stood there and said ‘calm down’ but it did not calm anyone down. Eventually, my boss just said she should pack up and leave.”
Bucky knows you’re still speaking and he is listening, but his mind wanders off into how pretty you look. Your hair is a mess and he wonders when you’ll make a comment about it and try to fix it.
Every time a new thing comes to mind, your eyes light up. He watches as your eyes glance down at Alpine when you take a breath.
“Bucky?” He breaks out of his trance to find you smiling at him.
“Hm?” You scoot over closer to him and lean your head against his shoulder, his arm instinctively wrapping around you.
“Do my rants annoy you?”
“No, I love them. Now, tell me...how did customers react to Hannah’s outburst?”
If there was anything Bucky hates more than his therapy appointments, it’s the doctor. He had been meaning to schedule a check up appointment for some time, but always hesitated.
After a long talk with you and sharing your similar feelings on the doctor visits, he made an appointment.
Now, he sits in the waiting room, his foot tapping and his eyes cast on the floor, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. It doesn’t help that the room is crowded.
No one is looking at him, but he feels like he’s got a spotlight on him. Add onto that the dreary and dull gray walls and the light hum that the lights give off.
You sit in the chair across from him and study his movements. Your gaze does not leave him.
The hope is that he will look up at you but he is determined to keep his stare on the carpet. You feel bad for him.
The nurse told him that you wouldn’t be able to accompany him when he gets called in and that seemed to accelerate his nerves.
A nurse calls his name out and his head shoots up, finally locking eyes with you. He stands and brushes his hands against his pants.
Before he could get past you, you grab his hand. It’s sweaty, like you expected but he still squeezes your hand.
A sigh escapes his mouth when you place a kiss on his knuckles.
You can’t help yourself but kiss his hand a few more times before pulling away.
He’s trying not to smile, but as soon as you do, Bucky can’t suppress the grin on his face. He mouths ‘thank you’ and releases your hand, taking one last glance at you before following the nurse.
The only light illuminating Bucky’s kitchen at this very moment was your laptop on the counter as you type away.
You wish you could join him on the couch, but you need to get work done and sitting next to him would just result with you in his lap.
It isn’t long before you lose your focus watch as Bucky stands up to stretch.
Only a shirt and his boxers cover him but when he stretches his arms up, you can see a little bit of his back. It sends a rush of heat all over your body and as he turns his head, you snap your focus back to your work.
A deep chuckle rings through your ears.
“I can go to another room if I’m too distracting,” Bucky teases as he makes his way into the kitchen. He pours himself some water, a smirk stuck onto his face.
“It’s not my fault that you’re so handsome,” you say and he chuckles again, moving to stand behind you. Bucky leans his hands onto the counter, his lips right by your ear. He kisses beneath your earlobe.
“Bucky…” you trail off as he takes your earlobe into his mouth and sucks lightly on it. It tickles you and you laugh, feeling him begin to smile as well.
"What? I'm just loving my girl," he mumbles, leaning his head down to place kisses on your neck.
His mouth moves leisurely, the obscene noises of his mouth do nothing to ease your growing pleasure.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, giving him more access to your neck, but he pulls away.
“Are my lips too chapped?” You turn your head to look at him, raising an eyebrow.
“What? No, they’re perfect, just keep-”
His mouth his back on you, this time his movements are more aggressive.
He sucks at a spot under your jaw that never fails to make you whimper for him. One of his hands finds its way to your hip, squeezing it, then drifting to grip your thigh.
“Maybe you should take a break, doll.” You close your laptop as soon as the words leave his lips.
You spin around and pull him by his collar closer to you.
His lips brush against yours, the taste of him already so intriguing. You don’t know why you’re hesitating, but Bucky seems to notice and he smirks.
“You gonna do it, or what?” His words sink into you. One more tug of his collar and his lips are locked on yours.
Bucky laughs, but it’s muffled through the kiss. Without another thought, you bite gently onto his bottom lip. His hands falter against you and he angles his head to kiss you deeper.
58 notes · View notes
Man Out of Time: Chap. 47, The File Part 1
"Hey Magpie, you spending the day with Sarah and the boys?" Sam asks kneeling down to be eye level with my small child.
"Yes! She's taking us out on the boat." Her little fingers wiggle around in excitement. "Are they upstairs?" Her eyes are looking everywhere but at Sam, wanting to know exactly where AJ and Cass are. He nods at her and she runs upstairs to find them.
"You sure you're ready to do this?" Sam asks. Looking between myself and Bucky. Bucky softly nods his head.
"Is there ever going to be a perfect time?" I ask.
"No probably not. You guys want me here? I can go out on the boat with Sarah and the kids."
I look over to Bucky. Sam has become one of the most constant people in my life. He's always been there for me, and has wanted nothing more in return. But I also don't want to make Bucky uncomfortable. "I'm okay with him being here, if you are, doll."
"It might make things easier, that way we don't have to tell him everything afterwards." I agree.
"Once everyone leaves, I'll hand the file to you guys. I will be here as long as you need me." We all nod in agreement.
Not long after Sarah and the kids come bounding down the stairs. "We'll be back when we get back. So probably a few hours, give or take some hours." Sarah reaches over hugging me. "I'll take care of her. She'll keep her life jacket on, so will both boys, don't worry."
"I don't worry when she's with you." I assure her. And I really don't. Sarah and I have an unspoken understanding. Both us mothers will fight tooth and nail for all three of our children.
"You ready for this?" Her eyes narrow at me, knowing that this file is going to bring out so many answers that will change our current lives.
I let out an awkward giggle. "No, but it has to do be done. We've got more questions than answers. It'll be nice to finally know what everyone else already does, ya know?"
"Maggie James behave for Sarah, okay? If not your mom and I will make you have regular waffles from now on?" Bucky picks up the young girl. Even though he's being playful with her, she knows that she needs to listen to Sarah.
"You wouldn't dare." Her brows furrow playfully.
"Oh, but we would." He gives her a quick tickle and kisses her cheek, sliding her into my arms.
"I love you little pearl, but Bucky is right. Have fun, but listen, and be safe, okay?"
"Okay. Okay." She tightly hugs my neck and gives me a kiss. "Love you." Her little voice is so full of life and excitement.
"Love you, too little pearl." I give her another kiss. "You guys have fun." Sarah leaves with the kids.
"Let's go to the computer. There are some SD cards in the file. I didn't look at them. They just fell out." Sam guides us to where the computer is. "You guys ready?" We both nod and he hands us the file. I take a deep breath and Bucky's arm goes around my shoulder.
The first thing I notice is a birth certificate, and already I know something is off. Taking a deep breath. This is going to be a long day. "What's wrong?" Bucky asks at my pausing.
"Already something I didn't know." I look at the date, everything about my birthday has been a lie.
"What is it, Charlie." Sam asks. He moves to the other side of me.
"I was always told my birthday was in September...two years later." Both men look at me. "This is saying I was born January 14, 1992. So, I'm actually thirty-two."
"Charlie, this is just the first piece of information. Don't read too much into it. They wanted to change your birthdate and make you younger for a reason. What about your parents." Sam doesn't want me dwelling on my date of birth too much.
"Umm...Elizabeth Jones, and the father is blank." My head is spinning. "I don't know who that is. At least my name is right. Charlotte Tora." Bucky pulls out his phone and plays around with it, "What are you doing?"
"Checking out what those names mean." He deadpans.
"And?" I ask. A bit of humor comes back to my voice.
"Charlotte means free or petite. Pretty fitting." He laughs. I am a short person.
He almost giggles. "You don't want to know."
I turn looking at him. "Why wouldn't I want to know?"
"It kind of furthers your suspicions." I just stare at him, hoping he continues. "Well, there's a few meanings."
"Bucky. Just tell me what it means."
"Thunder. Goddess. And it's the female version of..."
"Don't finish that sentence." I interrupt him.
"Pikachu why are you so scared for someone to say his name?" Sam asks.
"I don't know. Makes it seem real." I shrug. "Let's continue. We've literally just looked at one piece of this file." I pull out the next paper. "Charlotte Jones, Test Subject 143, The Child. 11/24/00." A picture of me when I was younger sitting on a bed in a cell. "I guess this is what Zemo meant about all of us in a cell. Can we just see what's on the SD cards? I'm tired of reading all of this."
Sam stands bringing a laptop over. Bucky moves closer to me. "Hey, I'm right here." He whispers.
"I know." I give him a quick peck.
Third Person POV:
In a dark and cold room that has no furniture, besides a table with two chairs, and third chair sits in the corner. The two chairs at the table are being occupied by a small and frail brunette woman with dark and hollow under eyes. Almost as if she hasn't slept or ate in a few weeks. Her bones protrude on her arms and her face is gaunt and sunken in. The other chair at the table is occupied by a S.H.I.E.L.D agent turned Hydra, John Garrett. He is cold and harsh. His eyes are focused on the frail woman, but also shifts to the young girl sitting in the corner. A small eight-year-old with stringy dark blonde hair shifts nervously in her seat. She was told not to make a sound, to sit still and to keep her thoughts to herself. All she wishes to do is come to her mother's side and soothe her worries.
"Ms. Jones, what brings you here?" The cold-eyed man asks.
"I didn't have a choice. People thought I was crazy and I was brought here. I'm not crazy." She bites nervously at her nails.
"What have you done to make people believe you're crazy?" His tone softens a bit, but it's still menacing.
"My daughter." The woman shifts and looks back at her daughter.
"Eyes on me. What about your daughter makes people think you're crazy?" He pulls out a notebook ready to write any random details she may tell.
"Her father." His eyes narrow at the woman. Understanding he wants her to continue. "Her father is a god. Thor Odinson."
His eyes quickly roll before looking back up at her. "And why should I believe you? Thor is a myth."
"She can show you." Again, her eyes flick back to her daughter whose legs swing gently in the chair, unphased by the tension in the room.
"If I have to warn you again to keep your eyes on me, I will throw you in a cell and I can talk with the child." The woman nods, eyes only on the intimidating man questioning her. "Now what do you mean she can show me?"
"She has powers."
"What sort of powers?" A slight smirk curls the side of his mouth. He's clearly interested now.
"She can communicate with her emotions. And when angry or scared she manipulates electricity, like her father. God of thunder."
"Child." He addresses the small girl. She looks up at me. "Come here." The child confidently walks over to him. "Can you show me who your father is?" She nods at him and brings her hand closer to his cheek. His body jumps away from her.
"I won't hurt you." Her voice is small and there's a sweetness to it. He nods at her. The small girl's hand comes to his cheek, gently placing it there. His eyes focus on something far away. Frozen. She removes her hand from his cheek. He genuinely smiles at her. Wonder in his eyes.
"Excuse me." He stands leaving the woman and child alone. Shortly after two men dressed in all black grab the woman and take her away from her child. She kicks and screams looking back worriedly at her child.
"No! She's mine! You can't take her away from me! Charlotte, don't let them change you!" The girl never flinches just watches her mother, eyes squinting at her. The woman's demeanor changes and she calms, complying to the men carrying her away.
John Garrett returns to the small child. "Charlotte. Can I call you that?"
"Charlie." She answers. "My grandma calls me Charlie."
"Charlie. How old are you?" He asks. His voice is almost kind.
"Eight." Her eyes bore into his, but she never questions where they took her mother.
"You and I are going to be friends, okay?" She nods at him. "What is it that you showed me?"
"Where was that?" A nefarious smirk planted clearly on his face.
"How did you get here?" He asks the small child.
"My grandfather thought it best to keep me hidden." The young girl is almost too calm staring at the man.
"Why is that child?"
"I was a distraction."
"To who?" His fingers snap to someone beyond the door.
"My father and grandmother. She taught me how to talk with my emotions. And control people."
"What about the electricity?"
"I'm not good at that. Dad said that it takes a lot to harness lightning."
"We're going to go on a walk. Is that okay with you? Want to see your new home?" The girl's large hazel eyes look up at the man and nods.
Shifting through the cameras throughout the compound the man leads the small girl to her new home and room. Hydra agents flank all around the pair. "You will grow to love it here little one. We will provide you with everything you need. Even enhance your powers. And you will become an asset to the greater good of mankind."
"What about my mother?"
The man pauses and turns to look at her, "She's very sick. You know that right?" She nods her head. Insomnia and lack of an appetite isn't exactly sick, but the young girl knows she needs help. "We're going to help her get better. You understand, yes?" She nods to the man again. "You can call me John. We're friends remember?" He spins and continues to walk.
While walking through the compound a room with large chambers catches the girl's eyes. She stops at one of them, placing her hand on the pod. She flinches and jerks back. "What is this, John?" Her innocent eyes look at him, wanting to read the man.
"Ahh...this is our greatest asset. That is until you reach maturity...I have faith you may be more powerful than him."
"Him? There's someone in there?" She knew there was someone in there, he's the reason that she flinched back.
"Would you like to see?" She nods her head happily at him. He reaches down picking her up. A small window allows her to see the man within. She places a small hand on the window. This time she doesn't flinch. She focuses her energy on reading him, wanting to know his story. There's a softness in his face. He wants to protect, but is being used by the people in this place. Slowly his eyes begin to flick around. Quickly John removes the girl away from the chamber. "Call Pierce. Tell him he needs to get here. You, freeze him again. He's stirring."
"Don't." Her voice is louder this time and the man's eyes in the chamber fully open looking at her. Her eyes only focus on his. "He's scared. Why is he here?"
"He's a soldier. How were you able to wake him?"
"My grandmother is a good teacher. He won't hurt me." The soldier continues staring only at the small child and another man walks in. Older than John, but walks with an air of superiority.
"What's going on in here? Why is my asset awake in his chamber?" He looks between the chamber, and the pair standing. "Why is there a child here?"
"I was coming to talk to you about her. Remember the crazy woman?" The older man nods. "She wasn't lying. Well about the child's powers anyways. She woke him. He hasn't quit looking at her."
The older man walks closer to the chamber. "Bring her closer." John walks closer and the older man squeezes the girl's cheeks harshly causing her to cry out in pain. Immediately the soldier thrashes around trying to remove himself from the chamber.
"I'm okay." She whispers to him. As quickly as it started the soldier eases his movements. "Can you take me closer to him, John?"
John begins to move closer to the chamber. "You take orders from a brat now?"
"Pierce, she controls emotions. She calmed him just by speaking." John tells him.
"Take her away and let me deal with him." Pierce harshly says.
"I just want to put him to sleep." The girls voice meekly looks at Pierce before her eyes go to the soldiers. Pierce nods his head. Moving the girl closer to the chamber she places a hand to it. The soldier's eyes quickly open and close before they are slower to close and then don't open again.
"How did you do that?" Pierce's voice is threatening as he talks to the small child.
"My grandmother is a good teacher. Are you going to let him out?" She peers up at the man.
"When he's needed. Garrett, take her to her cell. I'll talk with her tomorrow." Pierce demands the pair. Quickly he retreats and takes the girl to her new home.
"Charlottle you've been here for a few months. You wanted to see the soldier out of the chamber, and I've obliged. Now I need you to cooperate." Pierce's eyes are cold staring at the girl across the table from him. Behind him the soldier stands in the corner, armed to protect him. "We have seen your emotional powers and how you can control people. You tell us your father is Thor, God of Thunder, and yet you can't prove it with your abilities. Before your mother passed, she said you can manipulate electricity when you were scared. Do I need to scare you?"
Meekly she shakes her head no, looking up at the soldier. "Look at me Charlotte. I control him. He's been triggered and only listens to me. Understand?" She nods her head. "So please, show us what you have. You're almost nine now. I'm sure the older you get those powers will become stronger." A young Charlie looks down at the table. Alexander Pierce is not as pleasant as John. John is her friend. Pierce scares her.
"Charlotte!" His hands slam on the table. Charlie flinches in front of him, but her fingers do spark. In the corner the soldier listens and watches Pierce intensely. "You will fucking listen to me. I told you to cooperate. Now listen!" His fist connects with the table. Charlie pushes her chair back. Fingers sparking and pointing towards him. Lightning shapes glow on her skin, as if it runs through her blood. She wasn't the only one who took a defensive stance.
The armed and masked soldier brings the gun to Pierce's head. Charlie's hands quit sparking and relax. Looking only at the soldier. "Don't. Please. He'll hurt you." The soldier only slightly relaxes.
"If you knew what was good for you, you would listen to the girl. You're in here to protect me from her. At ease soldier." His stance never changes.
"Please." Her eyes well with tears as she looks at him. His eyes flick towards her. "I'm okay." Slowly he drops the gun and walks back into the corner.
"Take her away. I'm tired of her in subordinance." Pierce flicks his hands towards the guards outside the hall before they enter and calmly take her away.
"Sir, she's connected to him. What if you used him to get to her?" John asks Pierce. "She's been here a year and you've really not made much progress, but you scare her."
"So, you're saying that you or the soldier would be better to get to her?" Pierce's eyes narrow to John.
"What I'm saying is what you're doing isn't working for her. She reads emotions. She sees that you would cause harm to the soldier."
"Why is she connected to him?" He angrily asks John.
"She reads emotions. He has a tragic one. Maybe she wants to help him." John shrugs.
"And where would that leave us? What if she hurts him?" He smirks over to John.
"She's nine. And barely makes sparks in her fingers."
"You're too soft on her. I saw lightning light up her skin. The problem is, I don't want to be alone with her, but the soldier wants to protect her and not me. He treats her like she's a breakable China doll. She's manipulated his brain." Pierce's hatred towards the girl is evident.
"Maybe I'm too soft. But what you're doing is clearly not working. You want to manipulate her, but she's the one capable of manipulating people. We need her to trust us. We gain her trust and then we gain her loyalty. Isn't that the point?" John calmly explains to Pierce.
"So, you're wanting to send in our biggest asset alone with her to accomplish what?" Pierce's brow cocks over to him.
"To let her know that we don't want to hurt him. He's the one to gain her trust. And once we harness into her true potential, we can have her join us by choice instead of manipulation."
"Fine let's try it your way."
The soldier stands outside the door of Charlie's bedroom cell. "You're back." He nods to her. "Why are your hands behind your back?" He still doesn't move. "Are you suddenly shy? I'm the child. I should be shy." She smiles up at him. Even though she's nine she's a small child, giving her the look of much younger. "Let me see your hands."
The soldier produces a dark brown teddy bear from behind his back. "Is this for me?" She asks with a smile. He only nods and hands it to her. "I should call it my soldier. Since my actual soldier gifted it to me." She goes and sits in the floor, patting her bed for him to sit down. He quietly sits down. "Is there something else I can call you besides soldier? That's what everyone else calls you. I don't want to call you that. And anyways I have a soldier now with this teddy bear. Oh!! I should call you teddy bear." Excitedly she rambles. Very rarely does she get to see him, or anyone for that matter. Usually, people just try to get her to enhance the lightning. The past few months that she gets to be alone with the soldier she has made more progress.
"Don't call me teddy bear." His voice is calm and has no excitement in it.
"Ok. Is there another word for teddy bear that you would prefer? Maybe that language you sometimes speak."
His eyes look at the small child. Soaking in what she said. "Mishka."
"What does that mean?" Her large hazel eyes stare up at him.
"You mean I can call you Mishka?" He nods his head and slightly smiles. "My Mishka." She tests out the word. Liking the way it sounds and how it suits the intimidating soldier. He's only intimidating with others. He shows her a true kindness. "How has your day been?" He shrugs his shoulders. "I know. It's boring here after a while. The nanny will let me go outside for a little bit every day. Mostly I'm stuck here. I don't mind when you or John come in here. Pierce kind of scares me. He's mean."
"Has he hurt you?" The soldier tenses up at the fact that the girl called him mean.
"No. I just don't like him. I don't think he likes me. He thinks I should have more control with my lightning. But my dad said it takes a long time to harness it. My grandma was a good teacher, that's why I can read you. Can I?"
He nods his head at her. She stands smiling at him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. A moment later she jerks back with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry."
"Why?" She made sure that he felt peace, reflecting what she wanted him to feel, while reading his deepest memories.
"You've lost so much. Who is Steve?"
"Steve?" Bright blue eyes stare up at the girl. Before she can further her conversation, someone knocks on the side of the cell.
"Enough. You don't get to see him just to talk." The guard spits over to the pair. "Quit being so gentle with your China doll, soldier."
Bright blue eyes meet the glassed over hazel eyes. "You're supposed to be making me use the lightning. That power scares me."
"It's not easily controlled. I don't think I'm supposed to. Dad has a hammer to help harness it. I have nothing."
"Your brain might be bigger than his. You can use your emotions. Focus."
"That's the most I've heard you speak in a while Mishka." She smiles down at the man while holding the bear tightly to her chest.
"Focus." She rolls her eyes and focuses. Producing sparks on her fingers, slowly her skin lights up with lightning running through her veins. "Throw it." Focusing further she moves her hand up and the lightning hits the ceiling light causing the room to get dark.
Charlie screams at the darkness and holds tighter to the bear. Moving closer to the soldier. "I'm scared of the dark." She whispers to him. He pulls the small girl closer to him before picking her up and placing her in his lap.
"I've got you." It feels like it takes forever before the lights are turned back on. And when they turn back on an angry Alexander Pierce stands at the door of the cell glaring at the pair. The soldier stands placing the small girl behind him.
"What the hell happened?" He asks. His anger makes the girl cower closer to the soldier.
"She hit the light with her lightning." The soldier angrily answers him.
"And it caused the majority of the compound to lose power? Charlotte. Did you do this?" She peeks around the soldier and nods her head. "Why were you holding her?"
"She was scared of the dark." Pierce laughs at this confession.
"Time for you to go. Come on soldier." He opens the door. The soldier doesn't move. "I said it's time for you to go."
"Are you going to punish her?"
"For what?" Pierce asks looking back down at the girl.
"I made a mistake. I'm sorry." You can clearly hear the trembling in the girl's voice.
"At least he's getting some use out of your powers. You need to learn to better control it."
"She will in time."
"Soldier, I won't tell you again. It's time to go."
The soldier still doesn't move. "When will he be back?" She asks, still cowering behind the soldier and only peeking at Pierce.
"When he learns to leave when he's told."
"You won't hurt her while I'm gone?" The soldier stands strong glowering at Pierce.
Pierce's maniacal laughter reverberates down the hall. "Is that what this is? You're protecting your precious China doll? I assure you, if she wanted, she could kill us all." The soldier's piercing steel blue eyes continue staring at Pierce. "She will be fine soldier. You continue to disobey me you won't be back. Let's go. You need to be wiped and frozen.
"No!" A small Charlie finally comes out from behind the soldier, skin glowing with lightning as it flows through her veins, her eyes also glow a bluish white as she's focused on protecting her Mishka. She plants herself in front of the large soldier focusing only at Pierce.
"Charlotte, you continue to follow through with your anger, the soldier will be more than wiped and frozen. I can make his life a living hell. Now behave and let your lightning ease. All this time and who knew I just had to threaten your soldier. Here's a secret though...he's mine and I'll do as I wish to him."
"He's not yours." Her hand begins to flick towards Pierce before the soldier grabs ahold of it.
"Don't, doll. I have to go. I'll be back."
The girl relaxes and looks back at Pierce. "Do not hurt him. Please."
He smirks at the small girl. "I don't take orders from children." Once the soldier is out of her bedroom cell Pierce pushes him forward. "Garrett! My office now."
"I don't understand, sir." John looks at Pierce. He's become quite fond of the young girl. Knowing that they can use her, but also he wants to keep her safe.
"She's bringing too much humanity to the soldier. We tried things your way. And they're working, but the more time she spends with him the more he remembers. He wants to protect her. Even commands don't affect him as much. He's becoming loyal to her."
"What are you proposing?"
"I have a daughter. She recently married a man, he wants children, my daughter doesn't really. They will care for the child. Put some space between her and the soldier." Pierce tells John his plan.
"But, sir, if she doesn't really want children..."
"She will do whatever her father tells her. She actually listens unlike your little pet brat. I also can't stand to be around the child too much. She even threatened me with her lightning." Pierce's eyes go distant as he tries to figure out how to convince his daughter to take care of the child.
"Isn't that what we wanted, was the use of her lightning?" John asks.
"Not against me. It's final. There will be space between her and the soldier."
"Charlie, it's good to see you back." John greets the girl in her old bedroom cell. Charlie is now a twelve-year-old girl. Her visits to the Hydra compound during vacations from her studies have actually increased her skills with her lightning. Her fear of Pierce still hasn't changed. She hates that he makes her call him Pappy to keep up the façade of one big happy family. And even worse that she has to call his daughter mom. Her hatred for the girl is almost worse than her father's. Audrey's husband Richard Allen, Charlie loves. He's kind to her. He encourages her powers instead of trying to force them back.
"Will I get to see him this time?" Charlie asks John. The past couple of times her Mishka had been on missions, meaning she didn't actually get to see him.
"See who?" John asks as he opens the door to her cell. He knows who she means. And it's exactly who she's leading her to.
"Mishka!" Charlie exclaims.
"Pierce doesn't like you giving him a different name, you know." John glances down at the girl. Even though she's now twelve, she's still a petite little thing.
"Yeah, well, I don't much care what Pappy thinks." John laughs at the girl. Her face lights up once she realizes where he's leading her. "He's here?" John nods to her. She catches sight of her Mishka smiling before running to him wrapping her arms around him. He doesn't immediately return the hug. Up until she touched him, spreading her warmth to him and using her powers to cast their past memories together does he finally return the hug.
The girl now older looks at the soldier a bit differently. She recognizes how handsome he is. He hasn't aged a day since their last meeting, while she continues to age and grow. Developing a crush on the soldier, it is a school girl crush after all. "I've missed you Mishka."
"You too, China doll."
"I've gotten better with my lightning." He pushes her back from him. Fear in his eyes thinking someone has hurt her or scared her to get more use of her powers. He lifts her arms up and checks her over. "What are you doing?"
"Who hurt you?"
"No one. Why would someone hurt me?" She looks at him, clearly confused.
"You have more use of your lightning."
Understanding. "No one's had to threaten me. I was adopted. By Pierce's daughter and husband." She rolls her eyes. "I actually like him. He's helped me by being kind and not using fear."
"Let's see." The soldier's arms cross as he looks down at the girl. Smiling she focuses her energy. He watches at the lightning starts in her fingers and then runs up her arms through her veins lighting her whole body up. Once her whole body is lit up with the lightning, she tightly closes her eyes, once open they glow with the shade of the lightning. Looking over to the soldier she flicks a tiny bit at his flesh arm. Even though it's uncomfortable he smiles at her control.
Looking at his metal arm she flicks another bit. His arm spasms unnaturally with the electricity and his eyes lace with fear. As soon as she realizes this, she removes the lightning from her body. Walking closer to the soldier she touches his arm and absorbs the excess electricity that flows through his cybernetic arm until the convulsions stop. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it would do that."
"You're fine. It's amazing you were able to control it. You fixed it. I'm okay, doll." His eyes shine down to the young girl. "No harm done."
A now sixteen-year-old Charlie travels to the hated Hydra compound. The only silver lining of visiting is John and the possibility of seeing her Mishka. The older she gets the more she envisions an escape with him. Living a life together. She assumes the man looks at her as his little China doll. A young girl that he needs to protect and nothing more. But a sixteen-year-old can dream.
She's definitely starting to fill out. Her features are growing up. She still remains petite. Not getting her height from her god of a father. Hydra has told her that her mother was a bit crazy in her last days and there was no guarantee that the Norse god who is nothing more than a myth is her father. She knows. She recalls the man, and more so her grandmother. She was always kind and attentive to her.
"Charlie. I hate to tell you that he's not here this time." John greets the girl. She figured as much. "Pierce has been brutal with him lately. You playing your part with your other family? You know they just want to take you from us."
"I haven't seen them much." Sadness is in her voice. Some due to the fact she won't see her Mishka, and some due to the fact that Hydra can't control and manipulate her. She knows what they're doing is wrong, but she's too scared to say anything to Clint, but she knows that he's a good man. So is her adopted father, but he's blinded by what her "mom" is doing. He has no idea that her constant ballet, volley ball, piano, and all the other camps is her visiting Hydra.
"I'm here for a couple months. It's summer. I won't see him at all?" She asks John as he opens the door to her dreaded bedroom cell.
"If I didn't know any better, I would say that you had a crush on the soldier."
"No, I don't." She states a bit too quickly, and a bit too defensively. John smiles nodding his head.
"Of course, you don't. Well, he is actually on a mission. But maybe, if he is quick and successful." Charlie sulks, pulling out her teddy bear he gifted her all those years ago. Her soldier. She lays down on her small bed hugging the bear.
"Garret, what exactly are you trying to say? You've always been too soft on the girl. What I think you're suggesting is..." Pierce rolls a pen in between in fingers thinking about what the man had told him of the girl's affection.
"You're looking at it the wrong way. She definitely has a crush on the soldier. They haven't seen each other in a few years. The last time he seen her, she was a child. She's almost of age. Two more years." John is almost disgusted he mentioned it to Pierce. Pierce is very disgusting when it comes to the girl. He doesn't like her, because she can't be controlled, and she takes his control from the soldier.
"Hmm...imagine, daughter of a god and a super soldier...I wonder if the genes would carry on to their children. There's a problem though. If he doesn't reciprocate those feelings. It would never work."
"True. You would have to allow him to be around the girl. His humanity will have to come out. If you tried to force him it won't work. She quickly softens him." John looks over to Pierce, mostly thinking out loud.
"They haven't been around each other much. Maybe bringing his humanity back will take longer. I'm bringing him in earlier. We'll have to let him see her as more than a child. His China doll is growing up." Pierce's eyes glint with his devious plan. What did John do?
Charlie sleeps, clutching tightly to her teddy. Unbeknownst to her a soldier watches her sleep. He's confused as to why he feels the need to protect the girl. Several brain wiping's and frozen sleeps have happened since their last meeting. She's beautiful. Much too young for him, but he can't fight the feeling and need to keep her safe.
Feeling she's being watched; Charlie stirs in her sleeping. Once her eyes focus, she notices the soldier staring at her with a tilted head, "Mishka? You're here. I was told that I wouldn't get to see you." She stands walking over to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. She reads his confusion and casts their memories to him. He never tries to remove the girl from him, but it takes longer for him to return the hug.
"Yes, Mishka. It's me Charlie." She stands back smiling up at him.
"Charlie." He tries to vocalize their memories together.
"It's been a while. Have they been kind to you?"
"Kind?" He questions her.
"Yeah, Pierce. He's...cruel. Have they hurt you? I mean other than wiping you. I've heard you scream when they do that. I don't like when they hurt you."
"I'm okay. I protect you; you don't protect me." He tells her, his gaze softens at her, she really is a sweet and perfect doll.
"We protect each other when we're here."
"I can't do this anymore. She's eighteen. I won't keep her. My husband has always favored the brat over me. She's your problem now! Here's her shit. I'm not taking her anymore." Audrey shouts at her father.
"You've played your part well. I have other plans for the girl." He calmly tells her.
"Good. I don't want to hear about her anymore." Audrey stalks out of the room. Leaving Charlie outside Pierce's office. Not turning to say goodbye to her. Charlie knew she was never wanted in the Allen home, not from her anyways.
Pierce picks up his phone. "Send the soldier to kill them. They're leaving."
"But sir, your daughter."
"She served her purpose. They know too much." Pierce hangs up and walks outside his office. Charlie sits uncomfortably in her chair. "Looks like you're finally home, Charlotte. Let's go to your room."
Charlie stands following Pierce to her bedroom cell. "I gave you a bigger bed, more space. It's not the normal cell, you actually have walls since you're here to live, as an adult. It'll give you more privacy. You can go throughout the compound as you please, as long as you don't try to escape. I'll try to make life easier for you. As long as you comply."
"Where is he?"
"The soldier?" He looks down at Charlie who nods. "You'll see him soon enough. Don't cause trouble and you'll see him more."
"You're back." Charlie smiles up at the soldier standing in her cell bedroom doorway.
"I was just away for the night, doll." He smiles back before sitting on the bed with her.
"I just wish you didn't have to sleep in a cell. They could give you a room like mine." She leans her shoulder into his. She craves his touch, and now that she's a legal adult she lays her flirting on much thicker. Freezing him has kept him looking young. John explained when he was actually born and how old he actually is. He doesn't look a day over twenty-seven though.
"Or they could just let me stay in here with you, doll."
Her cheeks flush a bright pink, "You're such a flirt."
"You make it easy." He tells her. "At least they're giving me a break from being wiped."
"I'm glad of that." Charlie glances around the room looking up at every corner. Curious the soldier looks around with her.
"What are you doing?" He asks her.
"There's no cameras in here." Unfortunately, that is not true. Pierce knew growing up in Hydra she would look for cameras, not putting her guard down if she saw them. He had to be smart with where they put the cameras. Making sure he could watch his two prized possessions.
Biting his lip, he looks at the girl. She really is a beautiful little thing. No longer the young girl he remembers. His need to protect the kind girl has gotten stronger, and a bit of a tinge to want to do something he hasn't done in years. He wants to touch her. Her lips are particularly inviting. He definitely wants to kiss those. "You're right" he says. "But why is that important." She shrugs. The life she's lived has never given her much experience with boys. None really. She was homeschooled with a private tutor, Pierce wouldn't allow her to communicate with outsiders, in case she told someone the truth. She looks the soldier over. Her feelings towards him have changed throughout the years, and now that she's no longer a child she wants him to explore her and teach her.
She assumes that the soldier still views her as his breakable China doll though. "Nothing." She mumbles. Too embarrassed to say what she really wants. A few months back at Hydra every day, and actually getting to see him on a daily basis has been weird, and nice. The more they're around one another the more she wants him to touch her. Butterflies constantly roam around in her stomach when he's near her.
"You can tell me anything. We've known each other for many years." He thought for a moment that he saw her check him out, wanting him possibly as much as he wants her. While she's not looking at him, he looks the girl up and down. Her exposed collarbones in her tank top, the swell of her breasts, her toned arms, her shorts that are way too short, thighs that are achingly close to him. When he glances back up her body he watches as her breasts heave a bit faster until his gaze lands back on her eyes. She had been watching him check her out. Being the charming man he is, "Why are you breathing so deeply?"
"Can I kiss you?" She chokes out a whisper.
"What's that?" His super soldier ears heard exactly what she said. But being the cheeky man he is, he wants her to say it again.
"Sorry." She turns back away from him. Nervous.
He spins his body to look at her, placing a hand on her cheek, caressing her face with his thumb, and bringing her closer to him. "What did you say, doll?" His thumb moves closer to her lips before he gently traces it along her pillowy pout. Eyes roaming from hers down to her pouty mouth.
Without answering she quickly places her lips on his, and attempts to pull away. "Don't go." He whispers to her. He softly and much more slowly kisses her lips. Feeling the way, they perfectly melt together. How soft her lips feel against his. Timidly she follows his lead, and he can't stand it. He wants to taste her, tenderly sliding his tongue along her lips, hoping her inexperience will give way to something natural and she'll open her mouth for him.
His desires come true as she returns the faint teasing with her own tongue. Connecting them even further. There's a sweetness in her taste. She places her small hands on either side of his face, wanting him even closer to her. Shifting his weight to lean over her body, he pushes her back onto the mattress, until he's hovering over her. Continuing their discovery of one another. His hand begins to coast down her body. Ghosting over the side of her breast. Taking a deep breath, she pushes the soldier off of her.
"I'm sorry. It's just...I-I'm not ready. For that. I'm sorry." Sheepishly she tries to look away from him.
"No... I'm sorry. I just..." He tries to find the words.
"I want to. Things are private here. But...that...that was my first kiss."
"What?" He almost feels ashamed that he was the first kiss and they were getting that heated.
"I can't have my first kiss and lose my..."
"Doll, it's okay. You're stuck here with me. I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you." He leans his body back on the wall. "We're not in any rush."
We'll meet again - Chapter 3
A/N: Hello you lovely lot. 3 for 3! It's off to a good start. :) This one is kinda small, but I'm going for a snapshot kind of feel to the chapters. See how it goes anyway, I'm trying to not limit myself with 'should be's' Hope you enjoy - Feel free to come talk to me!
Tags/warnings: Bucky x Female Oc, slow burn - kinda, hurt/comfort, 1940's, pre-CA:TFA, Pre-serum Steve Rodgers, 3rd person limited POV, canonical sickness.
Opening the door to see two grinning boys, set on taking her out for the day became a regular occurrence at some point.
Through the summer they had made the most of Steve’s run of semi-decent health and Grace didn’t have the heart to say no. She was enjoying her time with them too much; The beach and rides at Coney Island, Fantasia at the picture palace, the botanic gardens, the museum, anywhere they could convince her to go with them - it didn’t take much convincing.
By now, she had pretty much accepted her fate. She had never had this much fun before and along with the bonus of quelling the gaping loneliness in her chest felt like a perfectly acceptable risk. Her apartment was slowly filling with mementos, from stuffed toys James had won for her to Steve’s detailed drawings documenting the highlights of their day. For what felt like the first time she had something worth remembering and she loved it.
Leaning against the door frame, Grace had just put up a token protest when James Barnes rolls his eyes and shakes his head, a grin betraying his annoyance. “C’mon Gracie. Come dancin’ with me for once. Please?”
“Haven’t you got a line of dames just waiting for you to ask?” She grins, eyes flicking over to Steve who seemed far away as usual, watching a group of men in uniform across the street. She raises her voice pointedly towards him. “Now if a real gentleman were to ask, I might be persuaded.”
“I’m a real gentleman!” He scoffs in indignation.
“I know all about your reputation Barnes, you rascal. I couldn’t possibly compete with your other dance partners.”
Bucky reaches his hand out to slap at Steve’s’ chest distractedly. “Hey Stevie. Steve, would you tell her?”
“Huh?” It takes a few seconds for Steve to even register the question, breaking his gaze away from the soldiers on the corner of the Street, by which time Bucky had given up with a sigh.
“Useless. C’mon,” He pleads, eyes turning round back to her. “We need to celebrate you moving up in the world. You’re a bona fide nurse now! Goodbye diner.”
Grace huffs a bitter laugh, dropping the protest. “Like I can afford to quit that day job. They don’t call it the depression for nothing you know. Alright. I’ll come out - but if anyone asks, Stevie is my chaperone for the evening – not you.” She adds with a wink.
James’ face brightens, excitement lacing through his voice. “I’ll take it. You’ll give me one dance though doll won’t ya?”
You shut and lock your door, walking out past them into the street with a grin. “No promises.”
Steve claps his best friend on the shoulder with a grin, watching Grace strut ahead. “Maybe next time Buck.”
“Shuddup.” He muttered, determined that he would win her around eventually.
2 notes · View notes
Old wounds and familiar faces (3)
A/N: here’s the next part. Let me know what you think!
Sam once again walks into the abandoned building to meet Y/N a few days later. This time she’s already waiting for him, leaning against a pilar with her arms crossed over her chest. Her shoulders are tense as they almost always are and she’s staring at him. “You know, you and Bucky should start a club.” He starts. “You can sit around together and stare at people.”
“Hmm.” Y/N hums as she pushes herself off the pilar she was leaning against and takes a step towards him. “Is that why you wanted to see me? To mock me?” She replies, her arms still crossed over her chest and her eyes still locked on his face.
“No.” Sam shakes his head, realising he won’t get anywhere with his jokes. At least not until she warms up to him. “I came here to tell you how the case went like you asked.” He tells her. “Thanks to you we caught the guy a day later. Probably the easiest catch we’ve had in a while.” He thinks back to the other day when he and Bucky went to the address on the card and caught the guy with the stuff he stole from the military. The man hadn’t expected them to figure out the card and was so surprised by them showing up that he didn’t even put up much of a fight.
“That’s good to hear.” Y/N says as she watches Sam’s face closely. She can tell that there’s more on his mind. “But that’s not the only reason you’re here, is it?” She asks and the look on Sam’s face tells her she’s right.
“Bucky acted strange after we met you and when I asked him about it he said that he might have known you when he was at Hydra.” Sam admits, he knows there’s no point in dragging this out. “I’ve asked him about it again later, but he won’t talk about it so I was wondering if you could tell me a bit more.”
Y/N sighs and finally looks away from Sam. “I don’t know Bucky.” She starts and in the corner of her eye she can see a somewhat disappointed look take over Sam’s face. “But I knew the Winter Soldier.” She adds and Sam looks intrigued again. “Our cells were next to each other.” There’s no need for him to know more than that, not now and maybe not ever.
Sam nods as he takes in the information. “Did Steve know?” He asks and he’s relieved to see Y/N nod. He had hoped Y/N told Steve about the time she spent with Bucky, or the Winter Soldier. Steve deserved to know what had happened to his friend during those years and Sam would have hated the thought that Y/N had that information and didn’t share it with Steve. “Do you think Bucky’s memories of that will come back?”
“They will, but it’ll take time.” Y/N sighs as looks at Sam again. “Bucky has decades of repressed memories that will slowly resurface. Right now his focus is probably on the missions Hydra sent him on. The more mundane things will probably take longer to come back to him.” She explains.
“Maybe you could talk to him sometime.” Sam suggests. It’s the first time that she has shared this much with him and he hopes he can keep the momentum going. “Might be good for both of you.” He adds and he sees hesitation in her eyes for a moment before she pulls her wall back up.
“Like I said, Sam, I have a therapist for conversations like that.” Y/N tells him before she turns around and walks away. “If you need me, you know how to reach me.” She calls back to him before she disappears from view. Sam considers it a win, considering the fact that she has never openly offered her help before.
“So I went to see Y/N to tell her how the case went.” Sam watches Bucky closely for a reaction. They’re at the army base waiting for information on their new case. “After what you said about maybe knowing her when you were at Hydra I figured I’d ask her about it.” He goes on when he doesn’t get a response and he sees Bucky tense up now.
“Yeah?” Bucky asks as he tries to act nonchalant. He’s been having dreams about Y/N almost every night since they met and it seems like the Red Star and the Winter Soldier were very close, so close that Hydra decided to separate them at some point but his memories surrounding that are still vague so he’s not sure what exactly caused their separation. “What did she say?”
Sam shrugs. “Not much.” He admits. “Apparently she knew the Winter Soldier because your cell was next to hers.” He says, his eyes still trained on Bucky who nods slowly. “She thinks your memories about that will come back in time.” Bucky nods once again as he takes in Sam’s words. “Look, she didn’t tell me anything other than that but she said she told Steve about knowing you and I’m guessing she told him more than she told me.”
Bucky leans back in his chair. If Y/N told Steve about their time at Hydra that explains why Steve was so convinced that the real Bucky was still somewhere inside the Winter Soldier. Bucky only remembers snippets of his time with Y/N, but what he remembers is mostly good. He shared his food with her, because for some reason they gave her a lot less than him, and he recalls giving her his blanket because she didn’t have one and the serum running through his veins kept him from getting too cold anyway. Y/N must have told Steve about the good things the Winter Soldier did for her, or for the Red Star, and it must have made Steve even more determined to find Bucky.
A part of Bucky wants to open up to Sam about the memories he has been regaining, but a larger part tells him to keep his mouth shut. It’s the same part that tells him he doesn’t deserve anything good and that he needs to take case after case and risk his life to make up for the crimes he has committed. It’s the part that tells him he’s a bad person, and the voice gets a little more quiet every time someone thanks him for something good he has done but it’s still there in the back of his mind. And it’s still bigger than the part of him that says it wasn’t his fault and that he deserves a fresh start.
“Gentlemen, the colonel will see you now.” A voice breaks Bucky out of his thoughts and when he looks up he finds Sam giving him a concerned look, but he ignores it and stands up. Sam frowns but he knows that now isn’t the time to press Bucky about what’s going on in his mind, so he stands up as well and follows Bucky into the colonel’s office.
Taglist: @valhalla-kristin @vicmc624 @sltwins @ginger-swag-rapunzel
4 notes · View notes
Part Seventeen of The Fixers is up and running, and it’s probably one of my favourite chapters to date 🤓
Part Seventeen of The Fixers
The General smiled at Bucky in the throne room of the Asgardian palace. However, they might as well have been back in the medical room of the Russian base, for all Bucky cared.
“So then, Soldat,” the General said, “what are you going to do to me?”
Bucky frowned; this wasn’t how the General usually talked to him.
Of course not, a voice inside of him said. This isn’t your general; he’s a demon.
Bucky smiled to himself.
“What do you mean by that?” Bucky asked. He pretended to sound bored so that the ‘General’ would get annoyed at him.
“What I mean is, I’ve used you as a puppet for so long. I’ve brainwashed you, I’ve tortured you and used you like a child plays with their toy soldiers. And I’d gladly do it again. Doesn’t that anger you, Soldat?”
It did anger Bucky a lot, mostly because he knew he wasn’t the only one.
“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? How have you managed to stay this young during all this time? You can’t have been put in the ice since you ran off, have you?”
The truth was that Bucky had been given a thing called an Infinity Formula, which slowed down the ageing process, and made him a little bit better at fighting and exercise than a regular person. It also made him heal faster.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Bucky replied.
“I knew you’d do that. You couldn’t resist. Does it bring you comfort of the old days?” The General smiled.
Bucky slowly pulled out a knife, and gripped it in his right hand.
Despite the palace room being full, Bucky only concentrated on the General.
“Bucky, don’t,” Sam said, suddenly appearing in front of Bucky.
“Get out of my way, Sam,” Bucky growled.
“No. You don’t need to do this.”
Sam gripped Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky slowly pulled Sam’s hands off him.
“Sorry, Sam. I have to do this.”
He walked towards the General, who pulled out his own knife.
The two men circled each other, both poised to fight.
The General leapt at Bucky, aiming the knife at Bucky’s throat.
Bucky almost laughed at he easily blocked the move with his metal arm.
The knife was lodged into Bucky’s metal arm, and he took it out and threw it to the side. He then kicked the General in the stomach, and flipped the knife in his hand, just to show off.
The General snarled, and lunged, knocking him flat on his back.
Bucky got up quickly, jumped onto the General’s shoulders, and was about to go to town with the knife, when the General flipped Bucky over, causing him to drop the knife in surprise.
Bucky swore loudly. He didn’t have his bullet proof vest on. He only had his black domino mask with white fabric to cover his eyes, a long sleeved red Henley shirt, black high waisted jeans and his black combat boots with the silver steel caps.
The flip had caused him to land on his back on a cold marble floor; it was definitely going to leave a bruise.
The General laughed.
“You have grown weaker. You are sloppy. You’re not as good as you used to be. You-“
He never finished his insults because Bucky had got up by then and kicked him hard in the stomach, quickly spun around and kicked the General in the head with the steel cap on his boot.
“I’m James Bucky Barnes. And nobody tells me what or who I am, especially you!” Bucky snarled, rage driving him on.
The General fell onto the floor, but Bucky wasn’t finished with him yet.
He picked the man up by the scruff of the collar, and held onto his throat tightly. He turned up the steam pump on his metal arm, and watched as it burned the man’s throat.
The man didn’t react. He must’ve died when Bucky kicked him in the head.
But a part of Bucky was glad he had the final word.
He looked around at his friends, huffing a little.
Sam looked shocked, Natasha and Steve looked worried, Clint looked scared, and Thor, Luna and Loki looked at him with admiration.
Bucky smiled at them, and then turned towards Hel and Katherine, who didn’t look happy.
“So,” Bucky said, still a little out of breath, “would any of you like to challenge me?”
And then half the palace roof fell down.
Top 5 fave fics that you’ve written? (Feel free to brag on yourself 🥰)
Every single one of these was so easy to write. I was inspired by a gif or an ask and the words just poured out of me. I'm still blown away by the reception they got.
63 notes · View notes
I think I'm hilarious /hj /lh ajdjsjd here's an excerpt from "Stop All the Clocks" chapter one
"The latest version of his suit, per Tony’s insistence to get his “man-boobs looking as beautiful, luscious, and patriotic as possible, Cap”, had small, slightly iridescent feather-looking half-ovals surrounding the broad outline of the star in the center. He had insisted he should add the star back in after seeing his old suit torn in the middle because “honestly, Rogers, you’re too dramatic to not have that star smack-dab in the middle, right on top of that righteous heart of yours. Maybe ripping it off seems more dramatically poetic to you—whatever, it’s going back on''
wanna read it? here ya go: boom
1 note · View note
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 💜
1 note · View note
Summary: Tony and Steve are arguing about their latest failed mission. On top of that, it could be a cause to another civil war. Peter is distraught and overwhelmed so it’s up to Bucky, Loki, and Eddie to come to his aid.
Word Count: Unknown
Tw: No warnings
“We may have failed, Steve, but at least no one was killed nor seriously injured. Can we just be thankful that no one has ever tried to sue us since we’re working with S.H.I.E.L.D. I can also pay for any damages done easily?!” Tony was in this heated argument with Steve for what felt like 20 minutes now. “We know, Tony. You’re a rich playboy who loves to party, get drunk, and work on your many suits; HOWEVER, since we now have to watch over Peter, maybe you should take that responsibility more seriously!” Peter overheard the entire conversation from outside of the conference room. Whenever Tony and Steve argue like this, Steve loves putting Peter in the spotlight, and he absolutely hates that about him. He needs to escape and fast. That’s when a beam of light came bursting through the room and sure enough, a figure in a black suit and short dark curly hair emerged through the light. “Hello, Peter, I overheard that you wanted to escape while Steve and Tony are having their little ‘couples’ quarrel’.” “Mr. Loki! Even though we’ve never met before, I’m already happy to see you!” He hugged him in greeting and Loki, who couldn’t help but feel overjoyed, he hugged him back. A knocking noise was then heard and when Peter opened the door, he was greeted by Bucky Barnes and Eddie Brock. “Uncle Eddie? Mr. Barnes? What are you guys doing here?” Peter looked back-and-forth between the two men. “We came to see you, Peter, we heard about Tony and Steve’s argument,” Venom emerged from Eddie’s left shoulder making Loki flinch a little bit. “You need a break, kiddo, or you’re going to overwork yourself to death.” Eddie finished patting Peter’s head. Tears swelled from his eyes “th-thank you g-guys!” he hiccupped and pulled Eddie, Bucky, and Loki into a group hug. “So,” Loki clapped his hands together “what do you want to do before Midgard has another civil war on their hands?” “Well...I was thinking we could go to San Francisco and hang out in Eddie’s apartment. After that, I want to go meet Ms. Cheng because I heard that she’s a really sweet lady. Then, Loki if you want to, I want to visit Alcatraz.” Loki beamed at Eddie and Bucky “I love that plan! Now let’s be before-” “EVERYONE DOWN!” Peter screamed as he pushed Loki out of the way. Thanks to his spider-sense, Iron Man’s laser beam went through the conference room door instead of Loki’s stomach. “LET’S GO NOW!” He grabbed Peter’s arm and teleported leaving Eddie and Bucky behind. “I knew he was going to do that. Damn you, Loki.” Bucky rolled his eyes, raised his middle finger to the sky, and left to borrow a plane from Nick Fury. “I got us, Eddie,” Venom said and skydived off of the Helicarrier into the Hudson River.
Meanwhile in San Francisco, Loki was searching in every cabinet for something edible. “I can’t believe that Eddie has barely any good food in here,” his eyes scanned the endless stacks of chocolate bars and tater-tots “Odin’s eyepatch, how is this man still alive?! And why do Steve and Tony allow you to hang out with him?!” Peter turned away from his science project “tater-tots are actually really good, Loki! Same with chocolate too, however, make sure that there Hershey’s though. Those are the best!” “You would want tater-tots for lunch then, right?” Venom violently pushed open the door “IF YOU TOUCH OUR TATOR-TOTS AND CHOCOLATE, WE WILL KILL YOU OURSELVES!” He snarled. “Venom no! We do not eat gods!” Peter shouted stepping between him and Loki. “Listen to the kid, Vee!” Eddie begged. After a few seconds of thinking it over, Venom allowed Eddie to transform back “the only person who is allowed to eat our food is Peter Parker and Peter Parker alone.” Loki lifted his hands in the air “fair enough,” he turned to the mass collection of chocolate and tots “I don’t like this stuff anyway.” “I can order a pizza for me, Bucky, and Loki if that helps keep everyone sane so that we’re not killing each other out of starvation?” “Peter, while I may agree with you, it’s probably best if you allow me to order it. Besides, aren’t you saving that money for your Aunt May to help her move out of her apartment?” “You know, there’s always plan B,” Loki teleported into the kitchen with three boxes of pizzas. “Loki, what the f-” “THANK YOU MR. LOKI!” Peter interrupted Bucky’s sentence grabbing his pepperoni pizza and sat down at the small dining table. “How the hell did you get those?” Bucky glanced down at the two remaining boxes. “Let’s just say, if you’re the master of deception with a handsome disguise and clever threats, you can get away with a lot of possible illegal things.” Loki passed one of the pizza boxes to Bucky “you wanted cheese, correct?” “And for Eddie, you get tater-tots on yours,” Peter’s eyes widened “isn’t that against pizza laws to order tater-tots on pizza?” Eddie turned to him laughing “not unless you have a symbiote fused to your body who has non-stop cravings for tots and chocolate.”
After dinner, Peter was playing with Venom on the couch while Eddie was watching rom-coms. “Venom, do symbiotes age? For example, as your host gets older, do you age at the same time as him?” “We never age, Peter. We will always stay the same age and if our host ever does die, we will find a new one to bond with. That’s how we survive, Peter.” “Just like a god,” Loki walked into the room and sat down in front of the couch. “I thought gods could age,” Peter looked down at Loki from over Eddie’s shoulder. “We can; however, we keep our youth by eating golden apples that are hand-picked by Idunn, who is the goddess of spring or rejuvenation.” “What happens if a mortal eats the apple?” Bucky asked taking a seat next to Loki “I have no clue, but now I want to test that question.” “No one is testing magical items on mortals!” Eddie jumped in. “Loki, do you still want to explore Alcatraz or do you want to do something else that’s equally as cool and as fascinating?” Loki was about to answer when all of a sudden, he got a call from Tony. “Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter sighed as he rubbed his forehead. Why can’t he and Steve get along for once? He thought. “Where are you? Me, Steve, Clint, and Natasha went all around New York to find you!” Peter thought about lying but quickly dismissed it because Tony installed a tracking device inside of Karen so he can quickly find him. “I’m in San Francisco with Bucky, Eddie, and Loki. By the way, I’m not coming back until the next civil war is over! I don’t care if I look like a traitor to you Mr. Stark, you and Steve need to stop fighting and get along for once.” Tony eyed Steve who then gave him an ‘I told you so’ look. “Ok, kid, take the week off, but we need you back. Also, keep an eye on Loki I don’t trust him even after the events of Ragnarok.” “That’s fair, goodbye Mr. Stark.” Peter hung up the call. He then completely broke down “you did the right thing, Peter,” Bucky hugged him “it’s good to get a break from him and this weekend break would give us more time to do everything that you want to do,” Loki added on and hugged him too. Eddie nodded in agreement “if this ever happens again, call any of us ok.” Peter sniffled “I will, Uncle Eddie, Mr. Barnes, and Mr. Loki. That’s a promise I don’t have an intention on breaking.” He then remembered something else that he wanted to do “hey, I heard that Stephen is supposed to be here on an important sorcerer’s business and I want to give him the first Harry Potter book because he has never read any of the books before. I really think he would love it!” “Of course we can,” Loki replied and took Peter’s hand “I need to speak to him after the whole falling for thirty minutes thing.” Peter beamed “thank you, Mr. Loki! Let’s go now!” They then teleported to Stephen’s location. “He’s going to prank him, isn’t he?” Eddie asked as soon as they left. Bucky sat down next to Eddie and stroked Venom “judging by his title as being ‘the god of mischief’? Absolutely.”
Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land - Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hello to all beautiful people! Happy pride month my lovelies!!! This has been in my head, forever and I couldn't get past it. Every time I wanted to write something else, this was right there to remind me...
This is the first part. The second one is being written right now.
Warnings: My English. Everyone is alive, just cuz.
Word Count~ 9k+
Summary: It would turn out to be the most difficult thing you had ever done, but you didn’t know that. Your heart would break into many pieces, nowhere to be found, but you didn't know that. Not one moment of your life had remotely prepared you for what was about to come. You were told it was a simple and easy mission. You were reassured everything would be alright because there was no chance whatsoever to fail – it was considered to be an effortless, straightforward mission. After all, how hard could it be – it was just one file, go in, grab it, get the hell out and return home safely and fast. Unfortunately, no one had ever informed you about the circumstances under which you would have to act. Because playing a part was easy, playing people…that was another story completely. SPOILER WARNING - Time travel kinda fic!
Part I – Oblivion.
It was one of the few moments of serenity everyone would enjoy, partly because they were so rare. No wars to be fought, no worries to be dealt with, no missions to be completed. That to the Avengers meant sleep and training, while to you meant more babysitting than usual. Fury had appointed you and trusted you enough to report back to him, anything out of the ordinary. Your job had gotten pretty boring, pretty fast – most of them were never around, anyway. Days like this one, however, were testing your patience – and loyalty.
Even though he did not appreciate your calculating eye, at first, Tony was more than happy to give you your own room and enough freedom to run around the tower as if it was your own home. Well, after a certain point, it became your home, since you moved your things out of the rented apartment; you weren’t spending any time there, anyways. You usually stayed within your boundaries and only recorded anything really off, because soon enough you learned that they were a quirky bunch of people, getting closer as the years rolled by, even fighting like a family would.
Natasha called you a friend, and that was one of the highest honors achieved. Tony would let you play with his tools even though you had absolutely no idea what most of them did and Steve had offered to train you. Come to think of it, thank God he did. Wanda and Pietro, really felt like the siblings you never had, although Pietro was a flirtatious little shit. Vision was the wise uncle and Thor, when he happened to pop by, was a literal God. Bruce was always so timid and flustered by Natasha.
But then a stranger came in. Just when you had decided that you would never find the courage to ask Steve out, someone else invaded your space like nothing you had ever experienced before; and he was never really close to you, physically.
You only caught glimpses, bits, and pieces of that man, at first. You knew that Tony did not trust him at all and that Steve trusted him enough for the both of them. You knew he had a metal arm and he was called “Winter Soldier” by Tony, but Nat and Steve called him Bucky. Wanda seemed interested because for once she could not read a mind. At that, you called Fury and he was as cryptic as ever, only informing you to stay on your feet. Your gut was nudging you to do your own research but at the same time, why bother when the research material was few doors away?
You did find out about everything, eventually, mainly because you kept asking everyone up to the point that drove them insane. Once you saw his face, you knew why they were keeping him low-key monitored 24/7. He was accused of many things, that was without a question. You were watching at the live footage of the camera keeping an eye on him and you could swear that he looked straight through the lenses and burnt your face. The thing was… no one was trying to keep you away but he never wanted to get close to you or even greet you. You entered a room, he found another exit. At first, you didn’t think much of it. A person with a shitload of trauma couldn’t socialize… big whoops. But then, it started getting weirder each day.
Honestly, you wouldn’t have paid that much attention, if it wasn’t for Steve apologizing for his behavior only to you. Steve seemed off as well. It was a strange vibe that other times was so ever-present and others… you couldn’t even remember what you were worrying about. It had flooded your mind when you first met him, but again, didn’t think much of it. You were too busy gawking at him to really care about your intuition. And then, once you got used to him being well… him, the same feeling nudged you again sporadically. This was one of those times. You wanted to ask him what was the big deal but you never did.
You shook your head and walked down the aisle towards the kitchen. It was rather late for you but insomnia had taken over again, leaving you a not-so-hot of a mess. Your head was definitely not on your shoulders; you preferred dreaming wide awake, as if in a trance, all those scenarios in your head, wondering what if one of them came true…
You weren’t sure why you ended up in the kitchen, in the first place; your feet had carried you without your permission. You exhaled rather loudly while massaging your temples, eyes shut. Opening them was probably a mistake. You came face to face with blue eyes with a silver tone. Your heartbeat would have picked up if it wasn’t for the exhaustion.
“Hi” you simply offered and took a step back. He squeezed his eyes shut and all but ran away.
“Bye” you said loud enough for the entire tower to listen to you, but your patience had reached its limit. You rolled your eyes at your tactics and his attitude and grabbed a bottle of rosé wine, walking back to your room. Why not the roof, you thought, and up you went.
“I never told you to be besties with her, nut-head. But that’s rude. Even for you” you heard Tony reprimanding someone and your stomach was already in a not. You froze, trying to catch everything you could hear.
“Says you!” Natasha exclaimed, defending…him? It didn’t make sense.
“Stop it. I mean, do you even know if she is loyal to you or someone else?” he questioned but surprisingly enough it wasn’t Steve or Natasha – the two people you thought of as friends – who defended you but Tony.
“Bullshit. You better fix this Rogers. Now” he coldly demanded and exited. Thankfully, the room had another exit and so he didn’t catch you. Not that he couldn't figure it out if he wanted to. You anticipated someone to prove him wrong but no such thing ever happened. However, Natasha said something that kept bothering you for the longest time.
“We both know that’s not why you are shit to her… and you, a coward”. You didn’t sit around for more bickering. Wine down we go, you thought.
“Good morning sunshine” Tony yelled at you, making you wince in pain. You had pulled yourself together and went for “work” – replacing Pepper while she was running the company. So, you did everything Tony threw at you. He was quite the mentor if you were honest. But times like this one really did push your buttons. You pinched the bridge of your nose and looked at him and Steve.
“Hello, obnoxiously loud for your height person” you specifically choose not to include Steve, something he noticed as he arched his eyebrow. Tony caught on pretty fast but instead of staying out of it, he jumped right in.
“Who got your knickers in a twist? No! Don’t tell me! Captain Virgin?” he exclaimed right when Bucky was passing by, making you groan in frustration and facepalm. Steve turned red but kept his composure while his best friend was in shock. Tony seemed rather unphased by the scene. You tried to hand him a file but he raised his hands.
“I don’t like to be handed stuff” he said as if it was the single most mundane thing to say. You looked at him dead in the eye and got up from your seat.
“And I don’t like that I have to put up with everyone’s bullshit. But you don’t see me going like this every time one of you acts like a 5-year-old now, do you?” you said without breathing and slammed the file on the counter, in front of him, leaving the three men in awe and a bit worried.
You started walking away when Steve called for you and made you turn on your heels, approaching him like a shark was approaching its victim. He needed to know that he had hurt you.
“Come on, don’t – ”
“No, no. When you realize that I have been here even before you came along, and start treating me with respect, then I will come back. Until then, good luck sorting out your loyalties – because you should already know mine” you deadpanned and shot Bucky a poisonous glare. For a second there, you saw guilt and pain but you turned around before that second became more.
You stormed out of the tower and walked aimlessly, without really knowing where you went. You walked by the Empire State Building and your feet carried you towards Brooklyn, without you even noticing it. Hangover at its best but you tried to walk it off along with your anger. You passed a couple of coffee shops before you decided to enter one. The ornate facade and all-wood interior, with a dash of stained glass, and its extremely low-key vibe, transported you to an earlier era. It also helped that it was tucked on a street corner in Boerum Hill surrounded by handsome brick townhouses.
Although it had basically the vibes of a bar, it felt familiar and even… comfortable to you. It was called Brooklyn Inn and you had never seen anything online for it. It felt old and vintage but it was so welcoming to you as if you belonged there. You hadn’t planned on staying there but you found a seat by the bar and had the intention of ordering a coffee but you remembered why you run away and instead you ordered a glass of Malbec.
The wine was exquisite; rich, dark, and full-bodied with hints of black cherry, vanilla, and sweet tobacco. You were informed that it started with grapes from France but ended up being produced in Argentina and that the glass you were holding was indeed, French. You found comfort in that and it perplexed you. Your eyes traveled around, looking at all the different people in the pub and how many more would have had their drink here… until your gaze fell on him. You had no idea how to feel or even express that. But how did he find you? He approached you, a bit reserved but not too much. It felt that it was his idea to find you – or at least, you hoped to. You were a sucker for those people… brooding, traumatized and devilishly handsome. He sat down next to you, and you got the feeling that he had done that more times than you could count; it felt natural. Almost everything felt just the way they were supposed to.
When the bartender came to take his order, he greeted him and even held a small talk, which meant two things. Bucky was
capable of talking, just not to you and secondly, he came to this place, quite often too, if you were to judge by the friendliness and the fact that the guy knew what the “usual” meant. He was fucking dushing, you noticed.
“And one more glass of Malbec for the lady” he added right after, leaving you confused as fuck but surprised in a good way, too. You just sat there, looking at your glass, not daring to disturb whatever universe you had entered.
“I am sorry for being a jerk to you” he confessed while the drinks were served. You thanked the bartender and took a sip.
“Try looking at me when you apologize” you softly mused and you noticed a side smile forming on his lips, one that he quickly dropped. To your surprise, he did. And you found yourself captivated by his eyes.
“I am sorry, doll” his mouth betrayed him and your eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. He quickly apologized again and remained silent. You felt so awkward that you let out an airy laugh. It might not have been for you in particular but getting to be called doll but the one James Barnes was on your bucket list. The man in front of you was an infamous flirt back in the day – that much you knew from Steve, when he actually talked to you.
“S’ okay… Sergeant” you commented with an eyebrow slightly arched. He actually blushed at that and you felt very proud. You put down your glass and turned towards him.
“But why? Why were you a jerk? No offense” you quickly added, hoping to get an answer this time. He cleared his throat and adjusted his body as well. You could literally see his brain malfunctioning.
“It’s just that… I don’t know and I am not big on trusting strangers” he said but you didn’t believe it. If he didn’t know you, he could have asked. If he truly didn’t know you, he wouldn’t know where to find you – alright, maybe that was a coincidence, but what about your drink?
“Bullshit” you softly challenged him while looking at him dead in the eye but smiled nonetheless and dropped it. You sat there for a while, enjoying the vibe and the drinks until you took your wallet out to pay and leave. You weren’t sure if it was his manners kicked in, or if it was a force of habit but he stopped you…in a very physical way. He touched your hand and pushed it back – you weren’t even sure he realized it.
“Thank you, but I can pay for my drinks” you said steadily. He gave you a funny look and placed 30 dollar-bill under the receipt.
“I know” he simply commented and he gave you his hand to help you out of your stool. Yeah, you had entered another dimension. Exactly because you were so unprepared for all of it, really, you just complied. And the touch was pushing you further down a slippery slope. He even held the door open for you. “Wait, wait. Why are you being so nice?” you suddenly asked him, making him smile in question.
“Can’t I just be sorry for my attitude?” he questioned. You were about to say no but… oh, well.
“You’re going to poison me? Have you spiked my drink?” you kept asking and he let out a small laugh. He declined every accusation with a ‘nope’. You ended up walking around Brooklyn with him and you didn’t even notice. He was silent for the most part but that didn’t bother you, as you simply let your mind and eyes travel as far as they wanted. Brooklyn was the heart of the entire New York City. It was so oddly familiar to you, even though you hadn’t lived that long there.
“So… you and Steve… he tells me you are close” he tried to make small talk. It took you by surprise the fact that they had talked about you. You thought about the statement for a bit.
“Sure. I mean, obviously, I don’t know him as well as you do, but he’s a good friend” you answered truthfully. He was a very good friend. He was there for you since you met him. Come to think of it, he and Bucky acted exactly alike. Mmm, not exactly, but they both avoided you in the beginning, and then everything was perfect. He too, wouldn’t talk to you, although he did talk to you, just not… in an elaborated way. More like in
the ‘I see you here every day and I have to be polite’ way.
“Oh” it was all he said. The conversation, if one could call it that, died down after that. And it was getting late. You had to return to your job and have a talk with Tony to get him to cooperate and sign the damn contracts he initiated. “This was lovely, weirdly enough. But I do have to get back” you soothed. It was the strangest day for you. Or so you thought. He, on the other hand, had no intention of going back so early.
“Have ever been to Coney Island?” he blurted out, leaving you dumbfounded. You blinked a couple of times before answering.
“No, I don’t think I have” you told him as you crossed the Williamsburg Bridge. He slightly frowned but you really didn’t understand why.
“If you need a guide, I am available” he offered while he took a step back. You really didn't know what to think.
“Brooklyn born and bred, huh?” you joke but he took pride in that. Why wouldn't he, you thought.
“Yes ma'am” he confirmed and left you wondering what the hell just happened.
“I should go. Thank you for... the normality” you waved goodbye. He lowered his head and nodded in agreement. Without another word, you took your separate paths.
You were thinking about how people were constantly moving at quantum speeds, in their minds, in their work, building patterns and seeing past through their everyday lives. Having this socially constructive mentality that they needed to be productive to be seen as equals to their peers. Constantly in motion, to be more and criticizing their imperfections. It felt like a constant need to keep striving forward, but they would eventually lose focus on their true essence, on what their really needed. So caught up in thinking about who they were going to be that they didn’t even recognize who they were right now.
You caught yourself being one of those people and tried to find stillness in your lives, moments of silence, to come back within, to allow the rest of the world to keep moving forward, to see new objectives intuitively flowing through.
The sky was so soft, you felt that it would melt if you touched it. The darkest blue was stained with little balls of color. You wished that you could see the night sky at its glory, without the lights and pollution to destroy the magic. Your room didn’t have the best of views, anyway. You gave up trying to imagine how different the velvet canvas would have looked seventy years ago, and strolled around the compound. Everything was still and serene as if no one was even breathing. You always felt torn between big crowds and solitude, being with company and being alone, living in a big city and leaving everything behind.
He was such a fucking contradiction. He was flirtatious, charming, and romantic, but also introverted and emotional. You could never really know because of how adaptable and changeable he was. You understood his mood swings better than anyone, but it was hard even for you, to keep up with the stream of emotions that never slowed down.
He was someone whose identity had been obliterated by pain—a pain that had destroyed almost every last vestige of his personhood. It was for this reason that he almost never spoke, you thought. He was still fighting whatever HYDRA did to him. You thought of the reoccurring presence of a piercing, metallic scream—a scream that was positively visceral, expressive of a tremendous amount of pain, panic, and fear. Brutal and brutalizing, that noise playing in his head over and over again, impacted him on a palpable, instinctive, organic level, giving sonic form to the blank, numbness inside the Winter Soldier’s mind. He was trying to fight it and you could see that. The demons were still inside, though.
Steve had told you that Bucky was one of the few people that actually recognized what it was that made him good, before his transformation into Captain America. has been made of the fact that Bucky Barnes is one of the few people to recognize the greatness in Steve Rogers before his transformation into Captain America. You saw the way he believed in Steve, too. But you wanted to yell at him that, yes, Steve was great but so was he. He didn’t believe he could achieve that kind of greatness but he didn’t mind, he had plenty of time to come to terms with it, as he had revealed once, a very unholy hour.
And that was exactly what made him great; his selflessness, his choice of friendship instead of jealousy. You were watching him again. From afar, always from afar. Never from near. You watched him and observe the way his hair had grown the last few weeks and how some strands were falling down to his eyes. He brushed them away, harshly, and you wondered how these bruised hands would feel on your skin. His skin glistened warmly like desert sand when the sun caressed him.
You watched bruises fade and reappear, lipstick smeared on collarbones - or was it blood? - his skin shimmering like naked gold, flesh piercing out between his teeth. It was your destiny to watch and fall, to fall and watch. All over again. Watch. Stop. Repeat until internal collapse. This time, he was watching you too. His eyes were blue, a particular kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the frozen cover of a winter’s lake. A smug
blue that broke through the purple sky like a whispered sunset. Bucky was watching you and he had no intention of averting his eyes and you felt your blood freezing inside your veins. It was a bitter realization of how much power that man held over you. Your body shivered.
You couldn’t prevent it anymore; your eyes were drawn to the sun like a magnetic field that hypnotized you over and over again and you were terrified by the light but you were more terrified of being surrounded by the dark again. You blinked. You sit there, frozen in time, while everyone else became witness of the silent conversation between the two of you, but you had a hard time understanding if it was your heart that hammered beneath your ribcage or if it had stopped.
You were dreaming again. You were daydreaming that there was a gap between reality and something like blood was sticking between the sharp edges of his collarbones but you didn’t mind because his hands were on your neck, on your face, in your hair – “do you want me to touch you? I’ve seen the way you look at me, I want to touch you, be still” - and you were, you were still, you were quiet when he dragged you over to the wall and pushed his knee between your legs and you wanted this, wanted him and his fingers dug painfully in your cheeks and your chin and he held you still, so still you couldn’t move and it hurt…
You shook your head. Your mind was playing with you, mocking your naivety. He was watching but he was only watching, as were you – from afar. Never once getting closer than that.
“Are you okay?” a worried whisper, violently shook you out of your dream. It felt so real; his touch burnt marks and you could swear you knew how they felt.
“Yes” you said as in a trance. Steve didn’t believe you. He knew that answer, he used that answer. He looked at you concerned but you looked at the other man walking behind him, not really paying attention to anything he said. You often wondered if he was able to just… read your mind. It was easy, too easy, to fall for him. He was tender and familiar. He understood so much of his surroundings and experienced deeper than anyone you had known. But you wished you knew if he truly felt – it seemed easier to be numb.
Steve arched an eyebrow and gave you the look, which was actually wasted since you weren’t looking at him. Bucky saw you and didn’t turn away, instead he looked right back at you.
“I have to go” you blurted out and left as fast as your legs could carry you.
“What about Nat?” you heard Steve asking and you swallowed your heart. “It’s different” Bucky simply answered. You stopped breathing so you wouldn’t miss a word.
“How? They are both from your past” Steve offered but your head couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“That’s not true and we both know it” he replied and silence took over. You had taken one step when a response was out there, for you to deal with it.
“Of course, I know. But she doesn’t know and we cannot tell her”.
Days and nights passed by in an everlasting circle. Minutes turned into months and your life moved on. You never asked what was the big secret; you took what they gave you and cherished it. You never lied about anything, you were always there and somehow, you had gained Bucky’s trust. He confided in you, he laughed around you without worrying about what people might think, as did Steve. But they never said a word. You had caught some other weird comments as well but you brushed them off. They would tell you when and if they felt comfortable. You had a pretty vague idea about it and you tested it more than once but never crossed a line.
Little things like small comments about their past, questions asked but never answered, words that didn’t correspond with today… you didn’t really know what to think but you started realizing that something was going on… since before you met them. Maybe they knew a girl with strong opinions and quick temper back in the day and they were projecting. Maybe, they just wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. Who could blame them?
Bucky was on the cold tiles of his bathroom and was pressing his hands flat down until the chill crawled up in his bones. He felt burnt and touched and scorched in all the places that he thought had healed a long time ago. Somewhere in the background, the water tap was dripping in tandem with his heart. Drop, drop, drop, your name was spelled…
You had just entered his room, waiting to find him looking outside the window. Instead, you heard the ragged breathing. When he closed his eyes, he saw crime scenes. A marketplace in the afternoon glow. Orange lights switching to red. Honking cars. His lifeless eyes fixed on his target. And the scene always ended with a twist – his target was no longer the bold man; he was no longer the Winter Soldier, it was no longer the present, you were no longer safe.
Drop, drop, drop. Bucky opened his eyes when the sun had long died on the horizon. One of his hands was resting on the tiles – the other wasn’t his. He felt like an emergency. But you kneeled down and sat next to him, with both of your hands on the tiled floor. He remembered a scene that had yet to happen. He wanted it to.
“Tell me you need me”, he said and his lips were shivering against your sunburned skin, “tell me you need me, tell me you can’t fucking breathe without the scent of my cologne or the taste of my skin under your tongue. Tell me”, he said and he was frantic, almost wild in his eyes, “tell me you want me. Tell me you want me so much that it fucking burns inside of you. Tell me you’re not ashamed”, and this time the man was almost begging with his hands roaming all over your face and his eyes blinded from the dying sun, “tell me you love me, please, tell me that all the flesh I burn and all the blood I swallow underwater is worth it. Tell me you won’t leave me”, he whispered and something tasted acid like bile and salty like tears in the back of your throat and the air was unusually hot, and each of his words left knife marks between the hollows of your ribs.
“Tell me this isn’t all in my head”, the man finally broke out and covered himself with your body like a blanket made of waves and you kissed his eyelids and watched as the skin under your lips melted to ashes.
“It’s too cold for you” he croaked and you chuckled. You shook your head, and you knew that even in the dead of the night he could see it.
“You’re not too cold for me” you reassured his not spoken worry. He was terrified and you only got a glimpse. Fridays were supposed to be movie nights – the guys educating you in old cinema – but you didn’t mind at all the scene you were witnessing. You slowly approached him and even more reservedly you offered your hand in a kind gesture – he could pick himself up, physically, but sometimes that was not enough. He touched you, grabbing onto your hand for dear life. The lights were off inside his room. He didn’t turn them on and you respected that decision.
It was late; again. In any other scenario, you would consider this romantic but his fragile state made you scared and angry at the people who bent him backward. He sat on his bed and you didn’t dare move from his side. He had been careful enough to hide this part away from you, to hide the panic attacks that came with it, the nightmares, the voices. You sat there in absolute silence until you moved your hand to touch his metal arm. He looked at you as if you were insane – because he was afraid of himself enough for the both of you.
“I’m scared of the darkness inside of me. It is growing, day by day, and I fear the day it consumes me. You called me a hero when we first met, Steve told me… but I feel like I have been the villain all along” he found himself confessing and you had no idea what hit you. You had seen him down, sad even angry but never so… broken. Ready to give up everything.
“I called a hero because no one else would be standing here, sitting next to me, talking about their trauma. I called a hero, not because heroes are pure light – no, because every single one of them is trying to fight the demons inside. Because, you have walked through the gates of hell, into the firepits, and survived to see… not the pearly gates but this mediocre existence, full of mundane little things” you admitted without even realizing what was the very essence of your words.
“I tried to unlearn how to hold the guns and the knives the way they taught me. I tried to unbury myself from all those corpses of people they put above me. I tried to erase them from my system. With scissors and razor blades and butcher knives and broken shards of a mirror. I don’t want to be killed twice” he winced at the thought and you acted out of instinct, cupping his face with your hands and looking deep into his eyes, to see where those demons were hiding and obliterate them any way you could. He was taken aback but didn’t move.
“Do I scare you?” he asked in a small voice, too afraid to destroy the stillness of the moment.
“You could never”.
He lied sleeping next to you, hair messy, body relaxed. You watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, counting the beats in between. Dust settled in the air and you watched it drizzling through the glimmer of white light that shined through the blinds. You wanted to reach out and touch him but you stopped mid-movement. Instead, you touched him with your eyes. Cheeks, nose, collarbone, lips. The air around him tasted like autumn. You wanted to drown in it.
His hand was in your hand and your hand was in his and his lips were on yours and your lips were on his and his fingers touched your skin and yours touched his shoulders and-
You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep. It felt so… right. So real. You could almost touch him and sense his warmth but something was off. In your dream, he was younger, careless, carefree…and you never felt the metal of his arm.
You had made a promise of never falling asleep when he was around because even if it felt so damn right, you never wanted to make him uncomfortable. However, seeing him sleeping so peacefully took some of the guilt off of your shoulders.
He was serene, almost resembling the disoriented dream of yours. Softer, mellow, and not tormented by those demons that hunted him each waking moment. You tried your best not to touch him and slipped under the bedding, still very much able to understand just how much heat he was radiating, making you fall asleep again. Easily.
There was half a carton of milk leftover from breakfast on the table. You reached out and took it, drinking it straight from the carton. He scowled at you and took a glass from one of his cupboards. His hand reached out, but stopped. You waited for the touch to burn you. It didn’t.
“Darlin’, we do have glasses” he mocked you but his hand cupped your face, lips inches apart, when he moved away with a wicked smile.
“Fucking sadist” you whispered and tugged him closer for a quick kiss. He smiled, lethally blinding. The only thing that mattered was him; the kitchen disappeared from view and you shut your eyes closed, getting lost in the moment.
You never talked about your dream to anyone. Even Wanda was forbidden from snooping around there. At least you hoped she didn’t. They were all the more vivid and you thought that you were either falling even harder or you were wishing for something that could never happen in your line of work. You had stopped reporting to Fury – and he knew. You had practically been adopted as the rookie who would help around and on missions but your skills were more intellectual than physical. Now, you could kill, you could fight, maybe not as well as Natasha or Steve but you preferred not to.
Bucky preferred you not to be anywhere near but it wasn’t his choice, after all. He had grown closer, almost attached to your hip but not exactly. There was something missing, something that didn’t exactly fit but you shook it off, as you had done with Steve, and moved on.
Today was one of those effortless days; no worries whatsoever. Tony was insisting on preparing brunch, but him being … him, you all ended up eating a makeshift breakfast. You had been seated on a high stool as you spotted the half-empty carton of juice on the table. You reached out and took it, drinking it straight out of the carton. And then everything was in slow motion, everything was familiar. He rolled his eyes and scowled you, as he took a glass from one of the cupboards. He poured the leftover juice into it and with a mocking smile, handed it to you. But you were too frozen to do anything but look at him, eyes wide open and mind shut.
“What? We do have glasses here” he told you in a funny way as if he had no idea what just happened. The man in front of you was the same fucking person in the same fucking context. But how could that be? Were you predicting the future? Or… had you lived that before?
You took too much time to answer, or even react in a way that they grew worried. But you didn’t know how to reassure them that you were okay because you weren’t. Your mind was playing tricks, one moment you were standing in the tower’s kitchen and the next you were on a stool in a vintage kitchen, small and cozy, with just one man. And then back to now. You tried to hide your face in the obnoxiously big cup of tea you had in front of you, which did not go unnoticed but you just couldn’t cope.
You were wondering whether or not should you respond the way you remembered you had, in your dream, or just let it pass. After a while, you knew Wanda was going to scoop and that why you warned her, quite loudly too. Please, don’t. Don’t. You knew she heard your thought clear as day because her eyes popped and blushed slightly, leaving Pietro wondering what had happened. You let it slide for now and kept your posture while everyone else was having a rather good time.
The whole thing wasn’t dying down any time soon but you needed air to breathe and space to exist. But you also needed an exit strategy. Or rather… a line. You stood up, thanked Tony but not really, and said you were going to start working for a living, meaning you were about to play around in Tony’s lab. No one found anything suspicious. While walking behind Bucky, you slightly leaned in and whispered that line.
“Fucking sadist”. His eyes shot up and his head snapped at you. He recognized it, and you were more than assured that this had happened again. But how, you didn’t know. For now, you were content knowing that at some point in this world, at some distant reality, you had felt his lips on yours. You would come back for answers but for now, you just went out to get a proper coffee. No Avengers.
Lately, you had been feeling rather off, out of touch with reality but you didn’t mind that much. Sometimes you caught yourself daydreaming about images that had flashed before your mind when you were asleep, while others you were just thinking about him. It was just him. Every day, all day.
“Don’t make me use Wanda” Tony warned you out of the blue, startling you and making you look up, avoiding his gaze. He rolled his eyes so hard that you were afraid they were going to get stuck.
“You wouldn’t” you fired back, very much assured that he would not even think about it… but he surprised you.
“Well, it’s not like I need her powers to understand that you have been crushing on Barnes” he outed you without even worrying about people actually listening. You wanted to shush him but that would put you in a difficult position.
“Tony… please don’t” you simply asked of him. It was the first time you saw him worried and perplexed, at a loss of words. But then, corking an eyebrow, he just dropped his job and came to sit next to you. It was his lab, you couldn’t say no.
“Listen, you know that I am not particularly fond of his company – ”
“Tony, you hate the guy” you cut him off, making him arch his eyebrow again in agreement. You smiled but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“All I want to say is be careful” he concluded and made you realize that he did care about his team; well, not everyone, but for the most part, he did.
“Thank you, Tony, but let’s be realistic… I am never going to make a move, and I don’t think he is interested in making one either” you summed up what you had gathered. Tony seemed to disagree with your statement, shaking his head but not saying a word, which was suspicious.
“What? Do you know something?” you pushed further but he just got up and went back to his job.
“Not everything is what it seems, honey” he cynically quoted and left you with a gazillion questions, which he wasn’t going to answer. You knew that he knew something and that Steve knew too. Maybe Natasha, but you weren’t sure, Wanda probably, since she can pretty much-read minds, and therefore Vision as well. Clint had a family, Pietro had god knows how many girls, Thor was in Asgard and Bruce was falling for Natasha. Sam and Rhodey were placing bets for all of you. They all had their own problems to be invested in your non-existent love life.
All it took was a mission gone wrong and Fury was breathing down your neck each day and each night, demanding you report to him every single detail. Which you didn’t. Not everything. Why would it matter that you spent most nights sleeping next to Bucky because it had become a thing after having heard him suffering and barging in without second thought? Why would it matter that you never left that night or any night after that? Why would it matter that he had opened up about his past, slowly revealing all those details that you, somehow, already knew? Why would it matter that Steve was trying to warn his best friend that this was a bad idea and upon confronting him, he went silent and couldn’t even look you in the eye.
Why would it matter to Fury that you had been having all those dreams that seemed so real, vivid, and true to be just that? Why would it matter that you had a beautiful friendship with Wanda and Pietro? Why would it matter that Thor was hitting on you, ever so discretely, but permanent enough to make Bucky jealous? At least you thought he was… or rather, hoped. You really didn’t understand what difference it would make… Maybe if you had been completely honest with Fury, he would never have given you the solo mission. Perhaps, it would have been for the best. Probably not.
Tony was watching you like a hawk, whenever Bucky was in the same room but even he had to admit that whenever you were around he was more of a puppy than an attack dog, and he kind of appreciated that. Deep down, he knew that you and Steve were right about him but his pride and grief didn’t let him say it in so many words. He showed it by calling him by his name, joking with him, and even sitting next to him. Bucky was grateful for every single chance he was given, and every single day he tried his best.
All those little things, you thought of as personal and never disclosed them with Fury. Maybe too personal. They had become your family and you couldn’t just turn on them. As you watched them interact with each other you just saw a big, kind of dysfunctional but very loving family.
“So that’s your thing… you observe” he startled you and you quickly turned around to see a smug-looking face.
“It’s the best tactic” you carefully answered while searching for any kind of sign in his eyes. But he gave you very little. You shouldn’t have hoped for anything more but you were crushing indeed. He kept staring at you, checking you out from head to toe. You could tell that he … at least, appreciated your look. You were wearing a dark red dress with an elegant halter neckline, form-fitting bodice, empire waist, lace-up elastic back, and knee-length skirt. It had a black ribbon sash that garnished your empire waistline providing the perfect finishing touch. A winged eyeliner and bold, dark red lips were all you needed, makeup-wise.
You knew that he was still looking at you when you decided to grab your drink and walk over to the others, leaving him to admire your naked back as you swayed your hips a bit more. It didn’t take him long to join you.
The night went on pretty smoothly. Tony was a rather drunk jerk, Pepper was embraced and slightly angry at him but nothing new there. Wanda and Vision were in a world of their own and no one could blame them; Thor was drinking with Steve, while Clint and Pietro were betting who would pass out first. Rhodey and Sam were comparing their flying style. Bruce and Natasha were flirting shamelessly and you were enjoying your beer while listening to a very talkative Bucky. He hadn’t shut up ever since Steve had brought up old Brooklyn. And all the girls Bucky was seeing… There was cockiness in his voice and pride in his attitude, two things not so usual.
Some people would call that a small party, a gathering, but to you, that was just another Friday night. Everything was perfect until F.R.I.D.A.Y announced one Nick Fury and one Maria Hills. Suddenly, everyone stopped talking and you simply swallowed hard. You felt it in the pit of your stomach. He was there for you. And it was never that simple with Fury.
“You’re having a party and didn’t invite me?” he mocked you, but Tony was faster.
“Sorry, we’re closed. Invitations only” he said very seriously. He was still not big on trusting him and honestly, he was right. You stood up and tried your best to hide behind Bucky’s broad silhouette. He sensed it and was confused but not a moment later, he froze. There was a moment of realization that you would understand later on. He tried to shield you from Fury’s view, while Steve… did the same, as he walked in front of you.
“It won’t take long. I just need to borrow her” he pointed directly at you and a rush of cold air was pushed down your lungs. No, every part of your conscience and subconscious was trying to warn you; it was as if your body was scarred to move. You shook it off and hesitantly walked towards him.
“It’s only gonna take a minute. I’ll be right back” you assured them but the look on Bucky’s face was one of dread. He reached out and grabbed your wrist. Fury rolled his eyes.
“I’ll be in the other room” he informed you but you really didn’t care about him. Your hand was on fire by his touch.
You looked worried as well but you couldn’t understand why. Bucky seemed to know more than he let on but now was not the time. He simply brought you closer to him with desperation. You didn’t know how to react. He had never been that touchy or that straightforward with you.
“Remember this, please” he begged you, and as you were going to ask what, why and other possible questions, he cupped your face and planted a pained kiss on your lips. Your breath was caught on the back of your neck, your mind shut down and your eyes had never closed that fast before. You felt the agony, the emotions flowing towards you, the pain-stained past… you felt him.
He let go, unwillingly. He looked pale as if he had seen a ghost; or maybe you were one. His eyes never left yours and when his hand fell through thin air, his breath hitched, he immediately tried to grab you but Steve called him, ever so softly, that you never heard it clearly. But alas, it had to happen.
Dumbfounded, you walked into the room with Fury, not being able to process anything, still feeling him close but too far away.
“You talk to no one, you change nothing, you come back to your boyfriend and you still say nothing, got it?” he deadpanned but you were too lost to be able to understand any of it.
“What do I do?” you asked purely out of habit. He went into details, nothing too descriptive. You had to use one of the things he gave you to be transported, whatever that meant, in and out of where you were going. You had to find a file with the number 32557038 in a military base and return home. Under different circumstances, you would have declined but you were not in the right mind and all you wanted to do was go back to Bucky and have a do-over. But, alas.
“You’re going now”.
“Press this when you’re ready and press it again when you’re done”. He didn’t give you much of a choice, as he pressed it for you, and you spun around.
16 notes · View notes
Me: I read smut all the time. Writing it will be easy.
6 notes · View notes
apricity one-shot: the time florence got shot
apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter
warnings: gunshot wound, blood mention, mature language
pairing: bucky barnes x female oc
word count: 2,027
A/N: apricity will have a series of installments of one-shots to give in-depth glimpses of bucky, florence, and their story! this is one. thank you for reading! feedback is welcome!
Bucharest, Romania. 1990
Eight months into the year-long recon mission.
Florence wasn’t a stranger to the searing pain of a gunshot wound or the stinging radiation of a stab wound. She’s taken too many bullets to count, patching herself up in dingy bathrooms, dark back alleys, and now a safe house in Romania.
She stumbled through the barren apartment leaving a trail of blood, the Soldier nowhere to be found. She pushed the bathroom door open with bloody hands, her footing messily stumbled to the sink as she felt hot blood ooze down her hip. She tore off her tactical vest the bullet had managed to go through and peeled the sticky shirt off of her abdomen, the blood making the fabric stick to her skin uncomfortably. Gritting her teeth, she swiped an alcohol pad up the trail of blood, the movement ending at the entry wound.
The bottle of liquor was in front of her on the sink, leftover from the soldier when he had gotten stabbed the week before. She took the bottle in her hand, the glass smearing with blood, and shakily twisted the cap off and taking a long swig before she poured it on the wound. Florence yelped in pain, biting her shirt to quiet her moans of pain and to keep it out of her way. She places the bottle back down on the sink, the glass meeting the porcelain with a clink.
She fishes the tweezers out of the first-aid kit and runs them under the tap, the blood loss not giving her the energy to properly clean them. A deep breath in and then the metal enters the wound, blindly poking and prodding her flesh to try to find the slug of the bullet. Florence bites down on the blood-soaked fabric of her shirt so hard she’s afraid she’ll fracture her own jaw, her hands shaking so uncontrollably that she drops the tweezers into the sink. The shirt drops from her mouth as she leans against the porcelain, catching her reflection in the mirror as she drops her head and takes a deep breath in, closing her eyes.
Something shuffles behind her, she lifts her head slowly to look in the reflection of the mirror behind her. The soldier looms in the doorway, his broad figure taking up the entire space of the door as his eyes scanned the bloody mess of the bathroom. If Florence wasn’t so delirious from the blood loss, she would have noticed the panicked rise and fall of his chest or the mixture of concern, relief, and anger swimming in his eyes as he finally took in her slumped form.
The soldier enters the cramped bathroom without a word and picked the bloody tweezers from the floor. His hand meets Florence’s elbow, gently guiding her to sit on the closed toilet lid, ker skin was paling by the second from blood loss. Bucky reaches in front of her and grabs the whiskey, pouring it over the tweezers. He fishes around the first-aid kit for what, Florence doesn’t know, too busy trying to keep herself upright and not falling onto the floor. The last thing she wanted was for the soldier to carry her out of here like she was helpless.
The soldier found what he was looking for, busying himself with threading a needle to stitch up the wound once he got the bullet out. He hid the shake of his hands well, swallowing down the anxiety that settled in his bones. The thought of something happening to Florence sparked a fire inside if him that would never die out, the embers would always be lit even if it was only a dying ash. Bucky has killed for much less, he wouldn't bat an eye to do it for Florence, it would be the only time he would wash blood from his hands and not end up in a fit of panic. The length Bucky would go for her knew no end, he'd go to the ends of the earth.
He laid out gauze and pads along the sink edge, much more prepared than Florence. He could probably patch up a bullet wound in his sleep, only if he ever did sleep. Florence tiredly watches Bucky as he turns toward her with tweezers in hand, his stormy eyes never meeting hers and his jaw clenching angrily and shoulders tensing, his body rigid. The girl didn’t have the energy to indulge in his anger, she didn’t understand why he was even angry in the first place.
Bucky set the tweezers down on the edge of the sink, his hands dropping down to his belt, fingers working at the buckle. Florence watched in confusion as he undid his belt, metal and flesh fingers sliding it through the belt loops of his dark jeans. He wrapped the leather around his hand before sliding it off and motioning the folded leather towards her mouth, nodding for her to bite down on it.
He picks up the tweezers again and kneels in front of her on one knee, looking at her in a silent apology before he plunges the metal into her flesh. Florence bites down on the leather, eyes screwing shut as she balls her hands up in fists in her lap. Bucky continues to dig, the tweezers hitting a particularly tender spot, Florence’s hand flying to his shoulder and clutching his navy blue shirt, causing the man to pause for a moment and take a deep breath. The tweezers finally catch on something solid, Bucky pulling the bullet out quickly and pushing gauze to the wound as he drops the blood-soaked bullet into the sink, blood splattering across the ivory porcelain.
Florence drops the belt from her mouth, watching as it falls the ground between her and Bucky, who still kept pressure on the wound.
Bucky reaches across himself to grab the needle, finally speaking, “Hold the gauze.” His tone is cold and sharp, a night and day difference from the look in his eyes that expressed that he was scared and worried. Florence could usually read him like a book but now that book had slammed closed and locked itself away.
Florence places her hand over his as she takes over holding the gauze, Bucky sterilizing the needle with the remaining liquor in the bottle. He'd have to buy another tomorrow.
He turns back, fingers prying at her hand to remove the bloody padding as he began to stitch the wound closed, not bothering to warn Florence of the sting of the needle, this was her payback for making him feel like his entire world was ending at the fear of losing her. Only she didn't know that.
Time passed slowly as Bucky stitched her up, Florence gaining more awareness as she watched Bucky’s jaw tick, “I didn’t ask you to help me, so why are you mad? Is it the mess?” Blood was everywhere leading to and in the bathroom, she remembered their first month in the apartment, the soldier had yelled at her about her leaving a dish in the sink, something about not leaving a trace that they had been there. She called him paranoid then and she immediately regretted it when the look on his face read like she had just slapped him.
The soldier clipped the thread and started a new stitch, shaking his head, “No.”
Florence huffed, wincing as the needle plunged through her flesh again, sharp and pulling, “Then what’s wrong with you?”
“You should have been more careful.” Bucky spoke with a clipped tone, not daring to look up at her. If he did, he's afraid he'd crumble right on the floor in front of her.
If breathing didn’t feel like her sternum was going to crack, Florence would have laughed, “Are you kidding? You got stabbed last week and I didn’t say a word.” The soldier had entered the apartment at 3 in the morning clutching his side with one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other and a sour scowl on his face. Florence sat awake on the sofa, she was waiting for him to get home, her anxiety growing as the clock continued to tick, and watched as he stumbled to the bathroom and locked the door. She didn't follow but heard the muttered curses through the thin peeling walls. She didn't sleep at all that night.
Bucky huffed as he finished up the final stitch, “That was different.”
Anger pooled in the girl’s eyes, “Please explain to me how that is different. Enlighten me.”
Blue finally met green, both staring at each other intensely, “It’s different because you are the one that got shot. You should have let me handle the mission today.”
This time Florence did laugh, ignoring the searing pain it sent through her entire body, “You know what? Fuck you. We were sent here to do a mission, that’s what I was doing. Do not treat me like I’m glass.”
Bucky immediately regretted partaking in this argument, he should have stayed quiet, otherwise, right now his feelings wouldn’t be bubbling to the surface, “I never said you were glass. I should have gone with you, protected you.”
All bets were off, Florence’s nerves were fried- frayed and raw and he had just rubbed salt in the wound, “Protected me?! I don’t need protecting! I got shot, end of story.” This conversation sparked a fire in Florence, everything she had been bottling up threatening to explode, taking multiple casualties in its path with no mercy. They were both going to drown in the emotion flooding the air between them.
That was Bucky’s final straw, his jaw ticked, eyes widened and suddenly he was yelling, voice bouncing of the confined walls of the dingy bathroom, “No! Not end of story! When I walked in, I saw a trail of blood and thought the worst, I thought I had lost you, Florence!”
Time froze, Florence’s brain malfunctioning as Bucky’s words sunk in, “You know my name.” All eight months, he called her soldier, never anything else. She silently prayed that eventually he'd recognize her, give her a dose of before, before all of this, and now it was finally happening. She watched as the soldier stood in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth parted like he had just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The two stared in silence before he spoke again, his tone significantly quieter as it trembled and shook with emotion, “I'll forget my own before I ever forget yours." Tears brimmed his eyes, "I remembered it last week. Along with a few more things I can’t place.”
Florence had been off the ice considerably longer than Bucky had before this mission, her memory had already come back to her in chunks. All of him. All of Bucky. Everything.
“What-,” Florence gulped, “What things?” Florence pleaded internally that it wasn’t what she was dreading.
"A ring? All I remember was that it was emerald. I never see the girl I give it to, it’s too blurry. And a pregnant woman? That one is the most confusing.”
Florence now had a vendetta with the universe.
Florence weighed her options of telling him the truth or lying to him, opting to tell him the truth. She settled on only one truth today, she couldn’t handle the other one, not now, “The ring was mine. You and I were together before this. We were engaged, you proposed right before you left for England in the war.”
Bucky only looked at her, a distant look in his eyes, “Oh.” That’s all he had to say, choosing to remain silent as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving Florence to fight the demons herself.
She twisted the lock on the door, slid down to the ground, and sobbed, not caring that Bucky could definitely hear her. Screaming at the universe or any higher being, she begged them to listen, pleading for something, anything. Death, escape, to wake up from this nightmare.
None of it was fair.
That night, Bucky and Florence slept through the night in the same bed for the first time, finding temporary peace in each other’s arms.
Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed!
Tag list: @tanyaherondale @lilyviolets @jckie94 @g-mayunot @geek-and-proud @ginger-swag-rapunzel
8 notes · View notes
100° ; bucky barnes
SUMMARY || when your a/c craps out on the hottest day of the year, your dad suggests you ask bucky to look at it.
PAIRING || dadsbestfriend!bucky x f!reader
WORD COUNT || 3,330 words
WARNINGS || significant + undefined age-gap [reader in her mid 20’s & bucky in late 30’s], metal arm kink, innuendos, pet-name [kid, gumdrop, pretty girl, sweetheart, sweetie], dumbification [big girl words], lots of teasing, authority kink, talk of masturbation, size kink, kitchen sex, bucky is too big [makes it fit], bulge kink [bucky is in readers tummy], squirting, unprotected sex, bucky finishes on his own chest, fingering, multiple orgasms, bucky makes reader ride his fingers, talk of subspace [+ aftercare], showering with bucky — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI
NOTES || inspired by me being hot & and a slut <<3 also thank you to @firefly-graphics for the dividers! they’re the best, everyone go check them out!!
It was easily the hottest day of the air. The type of heat that you can feel; sticky, thick, and impossible to take a deep, refreshing breath in.
It was absolutely disgusting. And yet, it was the day that your dad’s air conditioning had finally crapped out on you.
You felt like you were cursed. The summer you decide to move back in with your dad to save some money, and everything suddenly goes wrong.
A breakup, a flat tire, and now, the A/C deciding to die.
And it was only June.
You had no choice but to walk around in a tiny pair of loose shorts and a tank top, deciding against a bra because even the thought of it made you cringe.
Your dad didn’t seem too concerned, saying that he’d have someone come look at it tomorrow and that in the meantime? To sit outside with a cool glass of water.
He was sitting in an air conditioned office, of course it didn’t bother him. But you were stuck inside a melting pot with no desire to do anything but sit in front of your fan.
Then your phone chimed, a text from your dad popping up on the screen as you narrowed your eyes to read it.
Ask Bucky, he’s good with his hands and might be able to fix it.
You shook your head, no. He wanted you to ask his best friend, your new neighbour to fix your air conditioning when you could barely have a conversation with him without zoning out at the thought of what his metal hand would feel like against your body.
The thought of his metal prosthetic against any part of your body was even more inviting today, in the sweltering 100 degree plus heat that made you want to do nothing but have an ice bath.
But, it was only mid-day and you felt like you were melting into a puddle of your own sweat. You didn’t think you had a choice, you were going to have to muster up the courage to walk yourself over to Bucky’s house and ask him for help.
You had to shake your head to rid the thoughts of him. It was not only inappropriate, but embarrassing. It still felt like Bucky and your dad were playing a huge prank on you. There’s no way they were best friends, they were polar fucking opposites.
Fire and water. Not two peas in a pod.
You blamed it on your horrible relationship where your ex never cared or seemed bothered about the fact that you never came.
At first, you thought there was something wrong with you. That because you failed biology, biology was now failing you.
Then, you saw the various posts and threads online, people just like you recounting their experiences where they thought they couldn’t come until they met an older man.
An older man that showed that no, it wasn’t them, but their shitty ex-partners that never took the time out of their day to learn their bodies and what they like.
You sighed, wiping a thin sheen of sweat off your forehead as you stuffed your feet in an old pair of flip flops and made the short trek across the street until you were standing in front of Bucky’s door.
You just...stared at it for some time before finally reaching up to press the doorbell, hearing the tune echo throughout his house.
All you had to do now was wait.
Wait for Bucky.
There was shuffling on the other side of the door, the sound of the lock faintly clicking before the door opened and nothing could have possibly prepared you for how Bucky greeted you.
Dressed in absolutely nothing but a pair of jet-black workout shorts and a naked torso and chest that glistened under the hot afternoon sun as the black and gold of his prosthetic shined brightly.
“Hey, Kid. What’re you doin’ over here?” He asked like it was nothing. Like he wasn’t half naked with his shorts hanging dangerously low on his hips where the prominent v-line he had worked hard on was on full display.
“H-Hi, Bucky,” you had to clear your throat, not aware of how hoarse your words were going to come out.
He smiled, leaning against the door frame as you saw his eyes flicker down your body briefly before he crossed his thick arms over his chest.
“Our, uhm, our air conditioning went out and my dad said that someone was going to come look at it tomorrow, but he said that you were good with your hands and might be able to help in the meantime?”
Your confidence faltered towards the end of your sentence, falling like the way your heart dropped to your stomach when Bucky called you kid.
He chuckled, pushing off of the doorframe, “well, I am good with my hands.”
You swore your heart stopped when he dropped a wink, “but I can’t promise I’ll get it fixed.”
You could do nothing but nod your head, ignoring the throbbing between your legs in hopes that it would go away.
“I jus’ have to grab my toolbox, come on in.” He ushered you in, closing the door and you moaned at the feeling of air conditioned and cool air surrounding you.
“That good, huh?” He teased with a faint smirk as he disappeared further into his house, “it feels like I live on the sun back at my place.” You chuckle nervously, unable to see him, but still hear him.
He reemerges seconds later, a heavy looking toolbox in his left hand as he comes to a halt in front of you. Still shirtless.
“Ready, Kid?” He asks with a smile and you furrow your eyebrows, “I’m not a kid.”
He chuckles, deep and low before shaking his head, “yeah? You’ll have to prove it, Kid.” He tacks on the pet-name out of spite, teasing you before he’s brushing past you and holding the door open for you.
The walk is short, you leading Bucky into the house and he groans, “Christ, it’s warm in here.”
It’s your turn to laugh, “yeah, I’ve been tempted to just walk around naked today because even these,” you grip the fabric of your shirt, “are too much.”
Bucky’s listening, watching you intently as his tongue darts out from the corner of his mouth, “bit dangerous, don’t you think?” He smirks as you shrug your shoulders, “what’s the worst that could happen?”
He cocks his head to the side, “someone could see you, see a little too much of ya’, sweetie. A neighbour, perhaps.” His eyes have darkened significantly from when you first greeted him at his door.
“I trust that my neighbour would keep it a secret,” the tension is thick as Bucky finally drops the toolbox onto the floor with a dense thud.
“I think he would,” Bucky hums, opening the box as you watch the way his back muscles ripple as he bends over.
“Gimmie a few minutes, yeah?” He asks, straightening out as you nod your head, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
You nearly bolt into the kitchen, telling yourself that you were in some heat-induced haze that was causing you to hallucinate that interaction between you and Bucky.
You’re desperate for a glass of water, at least that’s what you tell yourself as you open the fridge and grab the pitcher, pouring a generous glass before nearly chugging half of it.
It helps, for a moment. Quenching your thirst. Not the metaphorical one, though.
There’s faint noise heard throughout the house and well, at least Bucky’s kind enough to take time out of his day to swelter in the heat trying to fix your air conditioning.
You bite down on your lip, sinking your teeth into the flesh as you let your mind wander to that goddamn metal arm of his.
You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Bucky re-enters the kitchen, “I’ve got bad news and good news, Kid.”
There it is again, that fucking pet-name you’re starting to despise.
“What’s the bad news?” You ask, placing the cup onto the counter, “it’s dead, you need a completely new unit.”
You groan, shaking your head, “and the good news?”
He’s still holding a wrench, flipping it, “you’re welcome to hang out at my place, I was jus’ ‘bout to make lunch anyways.”
You have to take a moment to digest his words, the offer, and the fact that it was Bucky asking you.
“Yeah, uhm thanks. That’s really nice,” you smile, and you’re truly grateful because you seriously think you’ll go crazy if you spend another minute trapped inside of your house.
He smiles, “perfect,” is all he says before turning on his heels as you follow him.
It’s silent, the walk back as Bucky once again holds the door open for you before shoving his toolbox to the side of his front door.
“Now ‘m no chef, so I hope you like sandwiches,” Bucky chuckles, following him through his house that you’ve been in a handful of times already. It’s nothing new, but is at the same time because you’ve never been alone with him.
“I can make a pretty mean lemonade,” you offer, watching Bucky’s lip curl into a smile, “jus’ full of surprises, aren’t ya, Kid?”
You have to fight the urge to scowl at the pet-name. Instead, you just nod your head and open his fridge to grab the lemons, lemon juice, and ask Bucky for the sugar.
The cold air from the fridge soothes you, washing over you as goosebumps prickle over your skin and your nipples harden through your shirt.
You don’t pay them much attention, but Bucky does because he has to clear his throat, eyes casting to the floor as he slides the sugar over to you without looking at you.
It makes you feel good, an ego-boost as you spend the rest of the time making the lemonade in silence.
“I gotta say, I don’t know how you managed to survive as long as you did with no A/C.” He said, focusing on the sandwiches in front of him.
You hummed, “it wasn’t easy. Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of having a metal arm I can use to cool off.”
That catches his attention, turning around to face you with a sly smirk on his lips, “you curious?” He asks, holding up his hand as your eyes lock on it, nodding your head.
“Turn around,” it’s a command, but his voice is soft as you’re gnawing on the inside of your cheeks, but turning around as you feel him walk up to you.
A gasp passes through your lips as you feel the cool material of what you’ve always assumed was metal, against your shoulders, “s’great to have, helps me a lot whenever ‘m too hot.”
The innuendo is thick, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean into his touch, lunch long forgotten now. He kneads your tense muscles gently, coaxing a soft moan from you that you should be embarrassed about, but the relief washing over your body is too good.
“Can you,” you’re shy about asking your question, “can you feel things with your metal arm?”
Bucky stops and you think you’ve offended him, “I sure can, sweetheart.”
“Must be nice,” you sigh, head lolling to the side slightly as Bucky’s cold hand creeps up your neck, “could help you too, sweetheart.” He purrs lowly in your ear, stubble scratching at your neck lightly.
The words physically don’t come out, instead a mewl does as you nod your head.
“Gonna have to use those big girl words of yours,” he whispers, hand still on your neck as you let out a whine, “please, Bucky, it’s s’hot.”
He spins you around, trapping you between his counter and body as he looks at you with hungry eyes, “good girl.”
You swallow thickly, swallow down the lump in your throat as your mouth falls open and your throat goes dry because Bucky is shirtless and so fucking close to you.
“’M gonna take care of ya’, I know how much you need it. Can practically smell you soakin’ through your panties,” he says, licking his bottom lip as you’re looking at him wide-eyed and excited.
He presses his hips against yours, the thin material of his workout shorts does little to conceal the straining erection that’s now pressed against your hip and it takes everything in you not to whimper.
“Wanna hear a secret first, gumdrop?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, “yeah.”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ ‘bout you since I first met you.” He purrs, confessing his dirty little secret, “do you remember that day?”
Of course you remember, it was the night you spent with your hands between your legs as you imagined what it would be like to have Bucky there instead.
You shake your head and he hums, “jus’ a year ago, wearin’ that cute little summer dress actin’ like you didn’t know what you were doin’ to my cock.”
All you wanted to do was look good, look good for Bucky.
He grabs your chin next, with his warm hand and you gasp, “and now I get to fuck you. Right here, in my kitchen.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, his inhuman appendage travelling up to cup your breasts through your thin tank top, “touch me, pretty girl.” He whispers and that’s when you realize you’ve been standing still.
Not in discomfort, but because you were afraid that if you moved, you would wake up from whatever good dream you were having.
You relaxed against him, his fingers pinching your nipple through your shirt as you let out a soft gasp before your hands are on his hot and muscled chest.
“You ever think of me?” He asks, “when you’re layin’ in bed, with your fingers deep in your own pussy?”
You moan, you actually moan at his words as you nod your head, “mhmm.”
He chuckles lowly, kicking your feet apart gently as he dips his hand under your shirt and you have to gasp at the cool touch before he’s slinking his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and panties.
“’M gonna ruin your own fingers for you, gumdrop.” He smirks darkly, running the digits through your soaked folds.
“But s’okay, ‘cause you know where to find me now,” he dips a single finger into your entrance teasingly before finding your clit and you hand to dig your fingernails into his shoulders and back.
“Good girl, that’s it. God I can hear how wet you are,” he growls, applying more pressure to your clit until you’re whining and reeling in the pleasure.
He doesn’t let you dwell on it for much longer before he’s dipping his fingers back into your entrance, starting slow with one.
“How’s that feel, feel good to be filled up and stretched out at the same time?” He taunts, slowly fucking you as you’re moving your hips against his hand.
He adds a second finger, curling them upwards and then stilling, “fuck yourself.” He suddenly says with a smirk.
“Grind your hips over my finger, gumdrop. Make yourself cum if you want it that bad.” You whine, shaking your head in desperation because you were already so fucking close.
He just didn’t want to give it to you so easily.
You listen, rocking your hips and your clit bumps against his palm. It’s new; cold and thick, your mind wandering at how big he could be.
“I can feel your greedy cunt squeezin’ me, you’re so close, pretty girl. C’mon, I know you want it. S’all yours,” he whispers in your ear, sucking at the skin below your ear.
Your hips move more erratically, soft pants flowing out of your mouth before you’re gripping his fingers and cumming.
Cumming all over his hand, in the middle of his kitchen, in the middle of the hottest day of the year.
“You look so pretty when you cum,” he whispers, slowly removing his fingers so he can literally rip the clothes off of you.
You’re shocked, “you can wear mine, s’fine.” He shrugs as he’s tugging his own pants down and suddenly you realize why you could feel all of him.
He hadn’t had any boxers on, and the sight of him made you shudder.
“There’s no fuckin’ way you’ll fit,” you blubber, watching as he wraps his hand around his shaft, stroking himself.
“Oh, it’ll fit,” he smirks, “I’ll make sure of that, baby.”
You’re falling seconds after, Bucky pulling you down onto the cold kitchen floor and yeah, it feels amazing against your sweltering hot skin.
“Don’t be shy, gumdrop. Jus’, here,” he positions you over his cock, rocking your hips as you grind over him, “feels good, yeah?”
It does, eyes falling closed as you nod your head before he’s lining himself up, “take it nice and slow.” He whispers softly as you slowly sink over him.
The stretch burns slightly, but the fullness is welcoming as your hands are resting against chest while Bucky just watches you take his cock.
“Fuck, baby,” he whines, “that’s it, you took me, all of me.”
You open your eyes, looking down to see the bulge in your tummy from where Bucky’s sitting snugly inside of you and you moan.
He presses a cool hand to your tummy, “ride me, use my cock to make yourself feel good.”
You don’t have to be told twice, moving and rocking your hips as your knees are planted against the marble floors.
When he adds pressure to your lower tummy, everything heightens and you’re whimpering in desperation, “again.”
Bucky smirks, “such a good girl, so full of me.”
He helps, thrusting up into you occasionally without warning and it just adds to the pressure that’s in your tummy. You know what’s going to happen, but you’re worried.
“‘M g-gonna,” a moan rips through your chest first, “gonna squirt, Bucky.”
The deep and low groan doesn’t go unnoticed as Bucky throws his head back, “s’all I want, baby. Go ahead, soak me.”
He pinches your clit, sending you over the edge as you push his dick out and squirt, making a mess over his abdomen and you know you’ve never cum that hard because you nearly pass out.
Bucky’s fisting his cock before he’s grunting, spilling over his chest and adding to the absolute mess you’ve created.
You’re embarrassed, opening your mouth to apologize before Bucky’s pulling you into a hot and searing kiss.
“I know you were ‘bout to apologize, so don’t you fuckin’ dare. That was the hottest thing ever, I-I’m gonna be thinkin’ about it for weeks. Hell, ‘m gonna be dreamin’ of it.”
His words make you feel like mush and you know you’re probably in subspace as Bucky helps you up, softly whispering in your ear.
“Let’s get cleaned up, okay? Then we’ll have lunch like we planned, yeah?” He asks and you’re nodding your head, content with Bucky picking you up to carry you into the shower.
When the stream hits you, you hum, it’s cool and refreshing and definitely what you needed after the day you had. When you’re clean, Bucky is dressing you in his clothes, the clothes that smell like him and you feel safe and happy.
“You doin’ okay, gumdrop?” He asks in a whisper, your beaming grin answer enough, “I like the new nickname.”
He smiles, “yeah? Well ‘m glad.”
It’s silent for a little while longer as you finally return to Earth, happy, relaxed, and no longer sweating from the heat.
“Y’know, if it’s too hot tonight,” Bucky says, “you could always sleep at my place.” He suggests with a cheeky wink, “only if I can have the left side of the bed.”
He laughs, pulling you into his body, “you can have whatever you want, gumdrop.”
449 notes · View notes
Pedal to the Metal, Baby by buckys_stripper_splits
Bucky and Steve sneak into their apartment’s parking garage to play on Steve’s motorcycle.
Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/ Steve Rogers
Additional Tags: Top Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Light Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, spitting, Dirty Talk, Motorcycle Sex, Bucky Barnes is a Lowkey Power Bottom, Mean Steve Rogers
Words: 2 043 words
Characters: James Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
First I just want to say your masterlist is the stuff of dreams 🥲 I want to live forever in each of your AUs. 🥰
Can I request a trinity au idea? Maybe one of the trio (reader?) is feeling a little left out and at like a gala or party someone is flirting with them and because they’ve been in weird headspace they entertain it a little and the other two are just like oh heck no this one is ours thank you and just picks them up and carries them out
left out — stucky
warnings || angst, flirting, sad!reader, fluff
You didn’t often felt left out, but for some reason, Bucky and Steve seemed to be playing favorites with each other. It had started when you went on mission with Natasha. You had been gone for two weeks and the boys had seemed to get in this routine of just being them.
Maybe you were just being insecure, but when you found them cuddled up in Bucky’s small bed with no room for you, you felt sadness wash over you. You guys always slept in Steve’s room, his bed was the biggest and fit you all perfectly. Why had they fallen asleep without you?
What you didn’t know was that this was purely an accident. Steve had gone in to get Bucky and they had just fallen asleep talking about what they wanted to get you for the upcoming anniversary.
Then there was shower sex they had the next morning, or how they went shopping the next couple days without you. They went on a whole date without you and you were just...depressed at this point.
Steve had been the first to notice you had been distant. It was the night before the gala and you had slept in your own room in a mess of blankets. Not that Steve knew this since you had locked your door. Bucky had asked where you were when Steve had come to bed.
“Something’s wrong,”Steve said with a frown, eyebrows pressed together.”FRIDAY said she’s asleep, but her door is locked. Did..did something happen?”
“I dunno, she hasn’t been very talkative since she got back from the mission,”Bucky sighed, worry now racking through his body.”You think FRIDAY would let us in?”
“No, I already asked.”
Neither of them barely got any sleep, and where morning finally came, you stayed locked in your room with only Natasha helping you getting ready for the gala. They didn’t see you until that night.
You dressed in a dark blue dress with red lipstick staining your lips, the smooth fabric curved over your assets perfectly. Bucky had caught sight of you by the bar with a faint smile on your lips.
His brows scrunched together, watching you carefully while you seemed to be nursing a fruit drink given to you by the PR agent for the Avengers. He was nice looking man and he was flirting with you.
“You are by far the prettiest of all the avengers, by far, you are my favorite,”The man, Josh, had gushed over you, hand stroking your arm gently.
Bucky nudged Steve with a clenched jaw, and when Steve laid his eyes on you, he thought he might see red. Out of the three of you, Steve was by far the most possessive of you. He puffed out his chest.
“Oh fuck no,”Steve grunted, shoving his drink into Natasha’s hands who had been talking to him. He started towards you with no hesitation, Bucky follow him to make sure he didn’t start too much trouble.
“Oh my god, you have no idea how much I needed that,”You smiled, a blush creeping on your face.”You aren’t too bad yourself, definitely my favorite PR agent..”
“Oh, now you’re just flattering me...”
You felt Steve’s chest against your back, hands gripping your hips harshly. He knew how much you liked it, but it was more to keep you close and have you in his arms. Your breath hitched, taking in the aroma of both your boys.
“What do you think you’re doing, bunny?”Steve asked, picking you up by your waist in a very possessive manner. Bucky stared down the man in front of you, striking fear in the innocent guy who just thought you were pretty. Josh had quickly scurried away when the super soldiers had crowded you, intimidated by their blunt strength and dominance.
“I dunno, he was just being nice,”You bowed your head in shame, frowning at yourself. You had liked the attention the boys had seemed to be depriving you of, or you had depriving yourself of.”What does it matter to you?”
“What’s goin’ on with you, peaches?”Bucky asked, his demeanor changing as soon as you were out of public eyes. He softened, more touchy as he tilted you chin up. Your back was pressed against Steve’s chest, his strong arm holding you close. It was the first time in a week that you had been so close to both of him.
You shrugged, tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t know how to tell them about all the things you had been thinking. How you didn’t feel good enough or how they seemed so happy without you.”Just noticed how happy you guys are when I’m gone.”
Steve never spun you around so fast, his movements much faster than Bucky’s due the perfect serum. He had you caged under the wall , staring down at you with disbelief. Bucky wore the same expression. You felt overwhelmed by both of them being so close, craving the touch of your boys. You just wanted to be in their arms again.
“What would you make think that?”Bucky asked first, leaning against the wall next to where you were caged in. His hands coming to take one of yours.
“You guys have been...it’s just be you two since I got back, you slept in Bucky’s room without me the other night, you went on a date!”
“You think we’re happy without you? That we don’t miss you every second you’re away, Buck barely sleeps without you. He doesn’t sleep until he knows your safe, he’s so exhausted when you get back, he practically passes out, it was accident,”Steve tried to explain, his strength getting the better of him as his hand accidentally sunk in the drywall behind you.
“It wasn’t a date, baby,”Bucky added, eyes soft on you. It made your heart break a little,”We were getting some stuff for our anniversary.”
“You were?”You asked, feeling embarrassed at how you had gotten in your head. You held onto Steve’s arm, making him easy his grip.
“I thought...I thought you were mad at us, you lock us out, bunny, you’ve been so distant, and I’ve missed you so much. I hate not having you around, you ease me, I’m my best when I have both of you,”Steve told you, hands coming to cup your face.”We love you, we can’t survive without you.”
His lips molded against yours perfectly, his sweet kiss making you forget every insecurity you ever felt. This was what you needed, reassurance that your boys loved you.
Bucky pulled Steve away from you, tugging at your waist so he could embrace you. After a moment, he leaned away and hooked his finger under your chin to look at him.”Next time you get in that pretty head of yours, you tell me, okay? All this could have been avoided if you had just communicated. We should have realized sooner, okay? We’re all fault here, but we’ve got you now.”
You nodded, smiling at him faintly before kissing his lips too. Bucky held you close, made you feel safe and loved. They were right, you should have gone to them. Maybe then you wouldn’t have spent this week so alone.
It didn’t matter now. You knew you would never be alone, not as long as you had your boys.
132 notes · View notes