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#bucky goes to therapy
saltsicklover · 11 months
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Title: The Weather
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3,160
Rating: PG13 - FLUFF
Warnings: Swearing
Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.
I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.
You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.
It took James Barnes three months to speak more than a 'hello' and an appointment time to the beautiful woman that sits behind the front desk in Dr. Raynor's stuffy office. She is the opposite of Dr. Raynor, her edges are still soft, her soul not bared to the world- covered in blood and devoid of sacrifice and suffering. 
At first, James found her intriguing. The way she sat, stick straight, attention always on her work. Her hair was never quite perfect, a sweet halo of frizz adorning her head, complimenting the way her eyes seemed to always crinkle at the corners whenever she would smile at him.  She would always smile at him while keeping her hands busy with paperwork, tucking loose pages into files- paperclips, pens, and highlighters strewn around her desk. 
Every day he talked himself up in the mirror and then again on the train, saying that today would be the day he would speak to her, finally catch her name, maybe even give her a real reason to smile- something more than just being customer service friendly. She's the one thing that seems to radiate positivity and light in the near desolate office he visits once a week. 
Today it is raining, somewhere between pouring and deluge and Bucky trails a small creek into the office with him. The water streaks down his face, hair sticking to his forehead. Droplets race down his leather clad body, pelting the tile floor. 
"Good morning, Mr. Barnes," The dame behind the desk speaks, her voice like fresh honey and it washes a tidal wave of warmth over Bucky. He shivers, goosebumps breaking out over his skin. Bucky is clammy and cold to the touch but it doesn't seem to bother him. The wet droplets that roll off his body don't either. Finally, the women looks up at Bucky, a bit of shock rolls over he features before before it's replaced with a chuckle and her signature smile, eyes crinkling but still shinning under the florescent lights. "Looks like that storm's gotten pretty bad since I got in this morning," She comments, standing up from her chair to greet him, "Don't you own an umbrella?" 
Bucky can't help the laugh that escapes his lips, deep and full like the sweetest expresso she's ever tasted. Her body buzzes from the sound, joy vibrating under her skin at the change in his usually stony demeanor. The furrow of his brow is lessoned now, a smile threatening to pull at his lips, but his expression remains neutral. Yet, somehow, it's like a smile had reached his eyes with the way he look at her.
"Oh, you know, didn't think I'd need one but the weather really took a turn and now I'm swimming in my boots," He almost laughs, almost, the squelching sound of his boots and the harmony of the squeaking floor with each step he takes towards the desk makes him feel the most on display he has in years. The full tooth smile she gives him makes it worth it. "I have an 11:30 with Dr. Raynor."
"I've already got you all checked in, but," his confidence faulters a bit, as does her smile, "Dr. Raynor was called into an emergency meeting this morning, about an hour ago, and she still isn't back yet. She called to let me know that she is on her way, and she wanted me to ask you to wait. So, if you could take a seat and hang out, that would be lovely," She rambles a bit, spinning one of the many rings she wears on her delicate fingers. She plays with the large gem, spinning the band round and round as if she could twirl her anxiety away with each revolution of the silver band. 
 "Yeah, uhh-" Bucky stutters a bit, brushing back his bangs then attempting to flick the water off of his fingers with the shake of his wrist, "I can wait, definitely." He nods at her like he has any other choice, and she nods back, the awkwardness of the whole scenario becoming more palpable with each tick of the clock. 
She sits back down too, after a moment, tucking her skirt under her backside with a quick motion before she turns back to the paperwork in front of her. The only sounds in the room are the light piano music playing over the speakers, almost too quiet for the average person to hear, and the clicking of the keyboard as she types. Bucky can almost hear her breathing, if he strains to listen, the small breathes pushing past her lips and then back in. 
Bucky watches as she works, her tongue poking out of her mouth from between her lips as she concentrates. His heart flutters at the sight, and he thinks he might pass away right then and there when she drags her bottom lip between her teeth. 
He watches the clock too. It hangs on the plain wall behind her, and the minutes seem to tick by slower and slower with each passing glance. But time seems to stand still as he watches her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He notices the diamonds and pearls decorating her ear, a site he isn't quite used to yet but still finds intriguing. The idea that someone might purposefully stab themselves to then adorn their bodies is something he finds perplexing and she finds irresistible. 
"Hey, can I ask you somethin'?" Bucky finally breaks the silence, the clicking of her keyboard slowly dissipating. She flashes that grin of hers at him and he melts. 
"What's up, Mr. Barnes?" She stands to look him in the eye over her computer. He sits in the waiting area, off to the side of her desk. He plays with the cuffs of his coat, fingering at the zippers and tugging at the fabric. 
"I just realized, I've been coming here for a while now and it has never occurred to me to ask you your name," She laughs a bit at him, one of those small laughs that comes from the back of the throat. She gives him her name and it gently falls from her lips like it's the easiest thing in the world and he decides that it is. Bucky repeats her name back, it's liquid sugar on his tongue- he wears a shy smile now, the rest of his body useless, like he's been zipped into a body bag as his mind spins. 
The rain is turning to hail, the small bits of ice pinging off of the windows, echoing though out the office. The lights flicker, off, on, then back off, leaving them sitting in the dark. Bucky tenses, his hands tightening around the arms of his chair as his companion lets out a huff in irritation. 
"Well, so much for getting any sort of work done now," She grumbles, pushing herself away from the desk. She moves around her desk, but not carefully enough. A low smack, the sound of bone hitting wood is heard throughout the room, and so are the swear words and grumblings that leave her lips. 
"Are you okay, doll?" Bucky asks too quickly, jumping to his feet. 
"Oh yeah, I'm- I'm just great. My knee just wanted to make friends with the corner of my desk, that's all," She informs him, rubbing her sore knee with her hands. She moves to sit in front of her desk, making home on the floor, her back pressed against the wood. Bucky tries to make out her form in the dark, but he can barely see her from where he stands. He pulls his cellphone out, clicking the flashlight on to illuminate the room. He places it on the floor, nudging it with the toe of his boot so it sits between them. 
She offers him a quiet thank you, devoid of a smile. 
"Can I ask you something, now? The way I see it, it's my turn," Bucky hums in approval, "What's going on in that head of yours?" Bucky is thrown by the question and it hangs in the stale air. "Let me rephrase, because I'm not asking about the shit you come here to talk to Dr. Raynor about. What do you think about when you're not avenging or chitchatting with the good doctor?" 
Bucky's thoughts flash through his mind quickly, the nightmares and the amends he has left to make. He thinks about Steve, and he thinks about Sam. He thinks about the community Sam has built with his family and the way they take care of each other. He thinks about how he lacks all of that. The family, the community, the honor. But mostly, he thinks about her and the way her eyes crinkle and that one time her hair was braided back and the way he could see her whole face for the very first time. 
"I like the weather," He says simply, sitting himself down on the floor to meet her level. 
"The weather?" She asks him, leaning towards him curiously. 
Specks of dust flutter through the air, visible only through the glow of the flashlight. Each speck seems to dance in the tension around them, her question going unanswered for a few beats before he sighs in an attempt to relieve the strain building in his ribcage. 
"Yeah, the weather. It seems to be the only thing I really understand anymore. That, and I like the rain," He concludes with a hand tugging through the mess of hair atop his head. He can't tell her that the sun doesn't come close to shining as bright as she does, so he settles with liking the rain. It seems more than honest. She tries to hold back a giggle at his answer. The causal air of it and the simplicity of the choice he has made. She doesn't push the topic further, not truly believing that he often thinks of the weather. But she knows better than to challenge the fact. 
Maybe if they were in a different universe, or following a different timeline. One that they may be able to reach out in and dust their fingertips over if it weren't for the fabric of space time holding them firmly in place. Maybe, one universe over, just to the left of where they sit now, they are still sitting together, but not on the floor of a government sanctioned medical facility, but in a cafe. 
They sit together, knees touching underneath the small bistro table in the corner of the cramped cafe. He calls her 'sunshine', because she is. She calls him 'lover', and he hates it in the way to say that he has never loved being called something more. 
Their fingers are intertwined on the table top, not caring who sees them together. Bucky would be drinking coffee, something with actual flavor because he would actually let himself enjoy it. She still drinks black coffee because it makes her soul feel at home.  They both wear genuine smiles, talking and laughing, enjoying each other's company. Definitely somewhere between date fifteen and twenty, planning their lives side by side but not yet together. 
In the timeline on their right they are together, in their apartment. Sunny, that's what he calls her there, is painting the walls sage green. James, sits in the middle of the room attempting to build a coffee table that they purchased from IKEA earlier that week. He grumbles about missing pieces, rummaging through the little plastic baggies and Sunny just laughs at him. 
She walks over and dabs a bit of the paint on his nose; both of their faces end up covered in green by the time they are done locking lips. They lay on the floor, surrounded by half finished projects, completely head over heels in love with one another. 
She has no idea about the ring he has hidden in his sock drawer, or the way his heart beats just a little bit faster every time she goes into that drawer to steal a pair of his socks just because she claims they are more comfortable than her own. He really needs to find a new hiding spot, but he has been so caught up in the life they are creating he really hasn't bothered to think of a better place. 
There is another universe about an arms length away where they are meeting for the first time. One where Bucky is quicker to forgive himself and more gentle with his own soul, with himself. She hasn't been given a nickname here, at least not yet. They cross paths on the train- she is stepping off and Bucky steps on. Their knuckles graze over each other, both turning to whisper an apology just as the doors shut. 
They lock eyes and Bucky offers her a kind smile, one that has come easy to him for years now. She offers a small smile in return, one that is much more shy and reserved than the one she has just received. Just then, the train begins to pull away, their lives once again headed in separate directions. 
She watches as the train pulls away, eyes still on the brunet, feet planted firmly in place. Bucky starts walking towards the back of the train, eyes still fixed on the woman who holds his attention like a vice. When he finally makes it to the end of the train, he is left with nothing to do but offer her a wave and a smile. She returns it in kind. 
But here and now they sit in the darkness, a storm raging outside, leaving them trapped inside with nothing but each others company and the glow of the flashlight between them. Neither one has been brave enough to speak for a little while. They have made themselves comfortable on the floor and in the shared silence. 
Bucky can't help but think about how beautiful she is. The way that she lights up the room with nothing more than her presence. He mulls over the fact that he took so long to talk to her, and the tightness in his chest seems to linger the longer he beats himself up for it. He twiddles with his fingers, fidgeting where he sits. He is almost dry now but his boots are still soaked through, squelching when he moves. She pretends not to notice it, stifling a laugh with the heel of her hand pressed firmly against her lips. 
"I think I'm going to call you Solntse," He says absentmindedly, more to himself and maybe the room than to her directly. "Yeah, Solntse, it suits you."
"What does that mean, Mr. Barnes?" Solntse questions him, peering through the harsh beam of the flashlight. 
"It means sun. It's Russian. And please, call me Bucky, or hell, I'll even take James, but please quit calling me Mr. Barnes," He speaks candidly, rubbing over his face with his flesh hand. He pulled off his gloves a few minutes ago, the action going unnoticed. 
"Okay, Bucky. Russian sun it is," Solntse chuckles, crossing her ankles out in front of her. 
"That is, if you don't mind- I guess I should've asked first," Bucky attempts to backtrack, fumbling over his words as the embarrassment wells inside him. A blush begins to bloom over Solntse's face and neck, a raspberry hue covering her skin. 
"I don't mind, Buck, truly. Plus they say you can't pick your own nickname. It goes against the whole point of having a nickname," She chuckles, a smile spread wide across her face as the pink tint begins to fade. She doesn't know what comes over her but she crawls over to Bucky, plopping herself down in the spot next to him. Bucky can't help the way his heart quickens at he movements, the proximity of her body to his and the scent of her perfume make him dizzy. 
They sit next to each other like that for a while, the silence taking over again. It's not too long after they are plunged back into darkness, the flashlight in front of them shutting off without warning. The sudden darkness catches Solntse by surprise, causing her to jump and let out a little yip of surprise. She grabs onto Bucky, hands wrapping around his metal arm, squeezing tightly. It all happens in a split second; each party feeling a complete and sudden shift in the air around them. 
They turn to face one another, noses almost brushing. Solntse can feel the deep blush burning on her skin again, the heat taking over her senses. Bucky lets a small chuckle escape him. It sounds full and comforting, even if it is at her own expense. 
"You're safe, doll, I've got you," Bucky whispers, pulling her as close as he can in their current position. Solntse can feel the way his fingertips dip into her flesh, the feeling grounding her in the moment, to him and his closeness. She squeezes him back. 
"Thank you," She whispers, voice barely audible. A smirk slips onto Bucky's slips and it goes unnoticed by Solntse until she leans forwards and closes the gap between them. The movement is clumsy in the dark, their noses bumping together at first. 
The kiss is slow and sweet, lips mingling together as if they have a thousand times before- and they have in the universes that surround them. The way their lips move together is not new to the universes else where, and neither is the way Bucky moves to pull her into his lap, her knees finding purchase on either side of his thighs. He tangles his hands in her hair the same way he always has and always will. She pulls at the lapels of his jacket all the same. The newness of it all sparking tingles beneath their fingertips, reverberating all over their bodies and the way they mingle together in this place, in this now. 
She pulls back from his lips, just mere millimeters, far enough to cause a small whimper to leave Bucky. "I think about the weather too," She confesses, the meaning just as deep to her as it had been to him, even if he thought she hadn't originally picked up on that fact. 
"Let me take you somewhere, anywhere you want to go. Coffee, food, drinks, hell I'll take you anywhere, just say the word," He almost pleads, but the words come out more smooth than needy. 
"I have a shift to finish, and you still have an appointment, but you can pick me up from my place tonight," She punctuates her sentence with a brush of her lips against his, "And you can take me to get a pizza and beer on draft and we can talk more."
"About the weather?" He questions her, smirk across his lips. 
"Yes, about the weather." She confirms just before closing the gap between them again. 
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mwritesff · 1 year
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OK, i HAVE TO know what "tolerate it ch2" is all about. FOR REASONS. 💕💕💕💕
AHHH you asked about my most precious and neglected child, tolerate it ch2!
What can I say about this bad boy - following the muse of one of my favorite authors, @tazmuir, who described the first two books in her Locked Tomb series as “the story of seventeen dolts in a space shack trying to become God’s dead best friends” and “the story of one girl’s sexual awakening at Bible camp, surrounded by wasps, unwanted nudes, and elderly swingers,” I will say this:
TOLERATE IT CH2 is the story of a man realizing his crush’s love language and accepting that while it’s true you can’t go home again, you can always build a nice, new home with the near-stranger who is still probably going to turn out to be the love of your life.
Excerpt below:
Steve fell silent. He could hear the birds chirping outside; sirens and horns blared faintly in the distance. His own heart was loudest of all, but there was O’Leary’s, too: softer, a bit more ragged, but strong all the same. He tried to match his breathing to the soft inhales and exhales across the table, like he used to do with his ma as a kid. Like he did with Bucky after she was gone, and even before--when they were blocks away from home, Steve gasping for air, and Bucky would grab his hand and copy Sarah’s words, saying breathe with me, Stevie, c’mon, just breathe with me. It soothed something inside of him to match someone else’s breath again after all these years. He wondered absently if that was why he could breathe again on the balcony that night; because Bucky had found him, like always, and held on.
THANK YOU FOR ASKING, MY DEAREST SAT ❤️
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painted-doe · 2 years
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New chapter is up, at long last!
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bucks-babe · 3 months
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Be Mean To Me
Pairing: Bucky x f!reader
Summary: After a long day at work, you just want to lose all control and have your boyfriend fuck you into oblivion 
Warnings: Established relationship, slight angst, fluff, smut, mean!dom!bucky, reader asks for it, they are so in love, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male receiving), ball sucking, slapping, spit kink?, degradation, humiliation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch, sugar, good girl), daddy kink, some praise, spanking, pussy slapping (like once), safe word (yellow), vaginal sex, no prep anal, Bucky has a huge dick, choking, aftercare, check-ins, crying during sex, crying after sex, soft!Bucky, no mention of Y/N, no description of reader other than being female
Word Count: 4.9k of mostly smut
A/N: This was very self indulgent. Work has been kicking my ass and I want to be taken care of. Any mistakes are my own. If I missed any warnings please let me know. @bucknastysbabe it's done! I think I should go back to therapy. But hey, smut
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You feel your throat tighten as you walk up to the apartment you share with Bucky. It was one of those days that left you beaten down and wanting to curl up under your blankets and cry. You didn’t even want to go into work this morning, having to force yourself to get ready. Too many rude customers, incompetent coworkers giving you more work than you get paid to do, everything leaving you overstimulated and wanting your boyfriend.
It left a craving deep down inside of you, a want that you knew only he could quell. You just wanted to shut your brain off, have Bucky take care of you, ruin you, treat you like a whore, break you down, just to put you back together again.
You swallow the lump in your throat and unlock the front door, finding Bucky on the couch watching some random action movie that he claimed to hate. At the sight of him your body naturally relaxes and the urge to crawl onto his lap is too much to bear.
“Hey, sugar. I’ve been missing you all day. You’ll never fucking believe the video Sam sent me of Tony trying out his new thrusters! He flew rig- What’s wrong?” He perked up at the sound of the door opening, truly missing his girl. Whenever you’re around him his entire day gets better, a lightness filling his chest, but when he sees how run down you are, his heart literally hurts for you. Bucky wants to protect you from everything, from supervillains all the way to spiders in the house.
“Long day, baby. Just wanna be with you.” He opens his arms and you instantly crawl into his lap, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. He runs his metal hand up and down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible, while his flesh hand rests on your head, holding you to his neck, letting you breathe him in.
“What can I do for you, sugar? Want to talk about it? I can order from your favorite place. Can run you a bath. Whatever you want, sweet girl.” 
“Please, be mean to me, Bucky.” Bucky feels his heart clench in his chest. He wants to keep your heart safe from whatever it is that is plaguing you, but he knows he can’t. What he can do is follow your request and make you forget.
“How mean do you want me, sugar?” Bucky has done this for you a few times. He always asks how you want him to treat you. It’s in his nature to be sweet to you, fill you with praise, but that's not what you want right now. You want to be degraded and treated like a fucktoy.
“Mean.” You keep your eyes trained on him. This is the only part where you need to keep your head on, make sure that he knows you want this.
“Remember your colors, sugar?” You nob, excitement bubbling up inside of you. “Remember, daddy will only be upset with you if you don’t use them. If you need to say yellow or red, you will.” His tone is final. This is the only way he would ever agree to treating you like a slut.
“Yes, daddy.” And just like that, Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He goes from your sweet, cuddly boyfriend to a cold and callous body of muscle. 
“Then take your clothes off, slut.” He pushes you off his lap, just hard enough to give the illusion of indifference. As you strip, Bucky keeps his eyes trained on the TV, not paying you any mind. Your core throbs at the fact that you are completely exposed while he is still fully dressed. 
“On your knees.” He’s still not looking at you, but you obey without thought, willing to do whatever he wants. Grabbing the back of your neck, he forces you in between his spread legs, and you whine at the fact that his cock is still soft inside his sweats. Any other day, Bucky would make sure that your knees were never on the hardwood floor without a pillow or something soft underneath, but not today.
On days like these, when you want to feel completely submissive, it takes Bucky a while to get aroused. It’s in his nature to love up on you, make you drunk with pleasure in the sweetest way possible. He feeds off of your energy. When he is sure that you are having fun, his body lets himself fall into his role.
“What? You think at the first signs of some tits I’m gonna get hard? I knew you were a dumb slut but I didn’t realize just how thick you were.” Your pussy was absolutely pulsing with need. With his hand still on the back of your neck, he rubs your face against his crotch, feeling his cock begin to harden at the smell of your arousal.
He pulls you back far enough to slide his pants down, foregoing boxers, and you immediately try to take his half hard length in your mouth. Before you can process it, Bucky’s right hand lands a slap to your cheek - hard enough to make a welt that will take a few hours to disappear. You gasp and your cunt pulses even harder than before at the sting left on your cheek. 
His metal hand wraps around your chin, much cooler than it’s supposed to be, and forces you to look him in the eye. In the back of your mind you realize that he turned on the cooling function in his arm to sooth your cheek; the arm was built to keep him cool in the Wakandan sun and heat. “Did daddy say you could suck his cock?” He uses his hand to shake your head from side to side, answering for you. “Then keep your slutty mouth shut.”
He spreads his legs wider and pulls your face closer to his heavy sack, already full of cum. “Hands behind your back, and suck on daddy’s balls.” You join your hands together behind your back without question and nuzzle his balls. Wasting no time, you take one into your mouth, sucking feverishly, enjoying the light dusting of hair tickling your face.
“Oh, fuck, come on, slut, I know you can do better than that. Take ‘em both in your dirty mouth.” He pushes you further into him, cutting off your oxygen, and you swear you hear your slick drip onto the floor. Your jaw aches as you try to get them both in your mouth, but you can't; his balls are too big. Bucky ruts against your face, squishing his balls, precum leaking from his tip, dripping onto his stomach after he takes his shirt off.
With your limited amount of movement, you alternate between each ball, licking at the seam. Every time you switch balls, you feel the other drag wetly across your face and you have to clench your legs in an attempt to quell the ache between them while fighting with your need for air. “Such a dirty bitch, lapping at your daddy’s nuts, shit.” He pulls you back just as your head starts to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and you gasp for air, spit is covering the lower half of your face and is dripping down your neck and chest; Bucky feels his cock throb at the sight.
Reaching out, Bucky smears your spit around your face and leaves another, weaker smack to your cheek before he grabs his cock and uses his weeping tip to tease you, dragging it on your face. “What a nasty fucking bitch, drooling all over the place just from sucking some balls.” He slaps your cheeks with it a few times before forcing your head down all the way, making you gag and you immediately pull off, coughing.
He stares into your eyes, cold and calculating, waiting for you to speak. When your coughing subsides you manage to get out a hoarse ‘green,’ giving him the all clear. He takes your head and once again makes you take his cock, this time much slower and not as deep, the first time he wanted to fuck with you. “Such a perfect fucking mouth, shit.” He stops you from bobbing your head, “Stop being such a desperate whore and let daddy finish his movie.” You're sure you’re leaking onto the floor at this point.
You are able to see his face and he looks wrecked, mouth hanging open and head back; he’s not watching shit. Nonetheless, you rest your head on his thigh, getting comfortable, spreading your legs out to get closer to the floor so your head won't be bent at an awkward angle, ignoring the pain in your knees and the ache in your jaw. 
The only sounds filling the room are Bucky’s ragged breathing and the movie playing in the background. There is saliva everywhere, his cock, all over his balls, down to his ass and on the couch. His cock is constantly leaking precum into your mouth but you don’t swallow, letting his taste linger on your tongue. 
This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to demolish you. Sitting with his cock in your mouth is giving you too much time to think, so you do what any sane person would do - be a brat. At the first suckle, Bucky lets out a broken moan, at the second, he knows what you’re up to. Flicking your ear with his metal hand he hisses, “Don’t make me punish you, bitch.” At the third, he yanks you off of his dick, a trail of drool and precum keeping the two of you connected, as slaps you once again with his flesh hand, this time not soothing the marred flesh with his metal hand.
He stands and kicks the couch out of the way and pulls you with him by the neck. “You disobedient little-” he cuts himself short at the small puddle of slick that he finds from your previous position. “Is that what I think it is?” You only whine in response, his grip on your neck never faltering. 
With his free hand, he reaches down to your pussy to feel just how wet you are, confirming his suspicions. “What a dirty fucking slut, leaking all over my floor.” He pulls you in closer to him just to whisper, “Lick it the fuck up, bitch,” before pushing you to the ground. 
Your knees hit the wood hard and pain runs up your spine. You ignore the ache and brainlessly lap at your juices on the floor before Bucky smushes your cheek against the puddle and you moan. “Messy bitch, you are? Cunt is pulsing, waiting for my dick. Too bad I have to punish you, isn’t it, slut?” He leans down to the floor, eyes lined up with yours. “Daddy is going to give you ten spanks and I want you to count them.” You don’t respond immediately, stuck in a sort of limbo, drawn in further at the softness in his eyes.
No matter how hard he tries, Bucky can’t hide his devotion to you, that’s why he doesn’t let you look at him when he needs to play this role. His whole face softens at your silence, fearing he’s gone too far. “Color, sugar.” Stroking your cheek, he leans in closer, breathing you in.
“Green, daddy, so green.” The sigh Bucky lets out is audible and he feels ten times lighter.
“Good girl, you want to keep going the way we were?” Even though you said green, he wants to be certain.
“Yes please, daddy, want you to be mean.” You look so small and soft. Bucky struggles to put his facade back up, but he knows you need this.
Bucky positions himself behind you, staring at your ass and glistening pussy, and feels his cock bounce. The first slap isn’t soft by any means, you know there will be a handprint left. Your body jolts and Bucky groans at the jiggle of your ass. “One.” The second is on your other cheek and makes you clench around nothing. “Two.” He lands the next two much harder on the same cheek and you feel tears form in your eyes, yet continue to count, digging your nails into your palm.
He repeats the two spanks to your left cheek and takes a break to sooth your heated and raised skin with his metal hand after you’ve counted. The ground beneath your cheek is hard and unforgiving, leaving you neck bent at an odd angle. Spank seven lands on the back of your right thigh and somehow feels much stronger. “Shit! Seven, daddy.” Eight is on your left, and is just as hard. Your entire lower body aches: cunt pulsing and throbbing for his cock, thighs burning, and ass red and raw, sobbing with every impact.
“These last two are going to be harder, slut, since you forgot to count.” Even with his warning, you aren’t prepared. They are hard and fast, hearing them before you feel them, knocking the breath out of you, and you try to scramble up, but Bucky holds you down. “Don’t run away from me, you know better.” All of a sudden, the sharpest and most excruciating pain blooms from your cunt, and then you hear the wet smack of his metal hand hitting your core. 
You wail, body shooting up, legs fighting to close to soothe the sting left. Before you can, Bucky’s hand on the back of your head keeps you to the ground, while he slams his cock into your cunt, not stopping to let you adjust. “That’s it, fuck. Such a good pussy. Dirty fucking bitch.” You can’t breathe, his cock is knocking all of the air out of your lungs. The only sounds in the room are Bucky’s moans and the wet slapping of skin, his heavy balls banging against your sore clit. With each thrust you’re sure he’s hitting your cervix.
The hand on the back of your head leaves to grab your hip, letting him fuck you even faster, the both of you sliding further and further on the floor. You try to brace yourself with your hands, but the brutality of his fucking is no match. “Daddy, fuck, s-so g-good, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but your cunt is pulling him in, barely letting him pull out.
Bucky is practically chasing you on the floor, hips never slowing down, eyes trained on your pussy, loving the creamy white mess on his dick. “Fuuuck, look at the ass bouncing on daddy’s cock, shit! Love the way this fat fucking ass looks when its all red and sore.” He’s in heaven, with the tight clench of your cunt wrapping around his cock, making him feel crazy.
“Daddy! I can’t, f-fuck, please, too much!” You’re fucking delirious with pleasure, feeling something twisting inside of you. You searched for something to hold on to, only finding smooth surface, legs locking, body seizing up.
“You can and you will take this dick, bitch. I don’t care if it makes you fucking bleed.” The pressure in your core builds tighter and tighter, all the while, Bucky’s hips never falter, sack still ramming against your clit.The breath is knocked out of you when you feel the most intense orgasm of your life pass through you.
Keening and wailing, you squirt on Bucky’s cock, the sounds of your fucking somehow getting even more wet until the force of your orgasm pushes his cock out. Your body is left twitching. There is a much larger puddle on the floor now - your cum. Bucky could fucking cum at the sight of your pathetic body laying on the ground, body wrought with pleasure. “Fuck, sugar! That was so fucking hot! You squirted all over, shit! I fucking love you so goddamn much.” 
The entire lower half of his body is covered with your cum and Bucky swears he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. Nonetheless, he wraps his arms around your waist and hulls you over to where he kicked the couch, placing your upper half on the cushions. “You’re so fucking wet now I bet I could slide right into that tight ass, what do you think, slut?” Your core pulses at the thought of his fat cock in your ass, the two of you don’t usually do anal, given how big he is, but you can’t think straight, especially after cumming so hard.
“Yes, daddy. I want your big cock in my ass, want you to fill me up.” Bucky groans at the thought of his excessive load running out of your ass. Leaning back, he ruts against your pussy, gathering more of your slick, before spreading your cheeks with his hands, staring at your puckered hole. He lines his cock up and watches as precum leaks from his tip.
His cock is huge, much longer and thicker than average, and he knows it. Grabbing himself near his tip, he pushes, grunting at the resistance, knowing that this would be much easier if he takes the time to prep you, but you want to be treated like a whore. “You gotta loosen the fuck up, bitch or else I’ll really fucking hurt you. Want this fucking ass so bad, better let daddy in. Cock is too big for this little ass, isn’t it, gonna split you in half, leave you leaking for days.” 
He pushes harder, tip finally popping in, causing searing pain to shoot through you. Crying out, you try to pull forward to escape the burning pain, wiggling further into the couch. Bucky leans over, careful not to push in any further, he knows you need a moment, any other time you would have been fully prepped and he would have slid right in, and wraps his metal hand around your neck, shushing you, “Shhhh, stop being so dramatic.” 
After a few minutes, the pain begins to subside and your breathing calms down. Keeping his hand around your throat, he pushes in, inch by inch, and the pain comes back. You whine into the cushion, every new inch burning more than the last until his hips are flush with your ass. “What the fuck?! Your ass is so fu-fucking tight, shit! Fucking milking my cock, wanna pound this little hole, wanna fucking ruin you.”
Burying his face in the back of your neck, Bucky was taking deep breaths, completely out of it. He wasn’t thinking straight, not when your tight hole was hugging every inch of his cock. You on the other hand, were struggling, it was too much too fast. It fucking hurt, there were tears in your eyes, but your pussy was aching like it wanted more. Your clit throbbed with need, even when your ass was stretched to the brim.
You didn’t want to stop, but you needed a break, before Bucky could move his hips you muttered, “Yellow, daddy, yellow.” The hand on your neck left and Bucky maneuvered his upper body so that he could look you in the eye without moving his cock. His entire demeanor was different, back was your sweet, caring boyfriend. 
“Good girl, daddy’s so proud of you for using your safe word. Shhh, it’s okay, sugar. Do you just need a second to breathe? Take your time, if you need to stop I will.” Bucky caresses your face as he soothes you, bringing you back down. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your ass, driving him insane. He wants to rail you so fucking bad, tip of his cock probably purple by now, but he would never do anything you didn’t want to, more than willing to sit with his cock inside of you until you’re ready or decide to stop.
You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, you loosen up and your mind goes fuzzy once again, desperate for him to move. You wiggle your hips, rocking back and forth, instead of pain, blinding pleasure courses through you. “Green, daddy. I’m ready, just needed to get used to your fat cock, want you to pound into me.” Bucky lets out the most sinful groan and stills your hips with his hands.
He starts out slow, easing you into his motions, gradually gaining speed and force the louder your moans get. “Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open. His hips and thighs were wet from when you squirted on him, slapping against your ass, everytime he pulled back a vulgar shlick sound could be heard.
He fucked you faster and harder, staring at where you were connected. “This fucking ass feels incredible. Taking me so well, knew you could do it, fuck. Splitting your tiny ass in half. Oh God!” He could feel his orgasm building up, fighting it off everytime his cum filled sack slapped against your pussy. Letting go of your hips he snarled, “Show daddy how much of a fucking slut you are and bounce that fat ass on his cock.”
You whined, but complied anyway, digging your toes into the floor to get more leverage to keep slamming back on his cock. The sounds of skin slapping and both of your moans completely drowned out the ending of Bucky’s movie, not that either of you cared. Panting and moaning, you kept working yourself on him, feeling another orgasm bubbling up.
Meeting your thrusts, Bucky was rambling, not having one coherent thought in his head, “Look at that, give me that ass, yes! Don’t you dare fucking stop, bitch, want you to milk this cock. Love the way it fucking bounces, never seen anything like it, oh fuck!” He was getting whiny, high pitched moans falling from his lips. He couldn’t help it, his cock was too fucking sensitive and you felt too good. 
“M Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Bucky practically growls, getting up to his feet to squat, not missing a beat while still trusting in you. Every time his pelvis met your ass he whined and whimpered, loving the way it jiggled. He could feel you clenching around him, drawing his own orgasm closer.
“Not until I do. Fucking hold it, bitch.” It seemed impossible, but Bucky fucked you even faster, his hips moving at a ferocious speed. He wanted to cum so fucking bad and your high pitched moans were about to make him bust. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I’m gonna fucking nut. You want daddy to fill your ass up, huh? God! Fuck, I’m splitting you in two. Uhhh. Balls are so heavy, so much cum. Fuuuuuuck. Daddy’s gonna fill you up, have you leaking.”
His hand wraps around your throat and chokes you, hips still smashing against yours, your orgasm barely being held in. You try to talk, get him to let you cum, but no words come out. Bucky felt his orgasm approach, balls pulling up, “Shiiit, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna flood your ass, you ready, cum with your daddy. Right. Fucking. Now.” Bucky cums with a long, drawn out moan. The feeling of his endless load pouring into your ass sends you over the edge and you cum so hard your vision goes black for a second. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through you. Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily, prolonging both of your orgasms. 
As you both catch your breaths, you feel Bucky begin to soften inside of you, still plugging your hole, stopping his cum from leaking back out. “You were so good for me, sugar. I’m so proud of you.” At those words you feel your bottom lip begin to tremble. Burying your face into the cushions, a sob escapes your throat, all of your emotions finally bubbling over.
Running his hands up and down your back, Bucky soothes you. This was always his least favorite part, seeing you cry. He knows that you’re crying isn’t because of him, but there is always a twinge of fear that shoots through his body, scared that he went too far with you. Bucky pulls out as gently as he can, hissing when the air touches his spent dick, and moves to rest his back against the couch, pulling you into his lap.
Neither of you care that his cum is leaking all over. Bucky will clean the room later, after he takes care of his sweet girl. You cling to him as you sob into his neck, his hands massage your sore cheeks as he whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for me, you made me feel so fucking good. Can’t even begin to explain how good you felt. There you go, let it out. I’m right here.”
Carefully, he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. When he tries to set you down you just cling on harder to him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “I gotta draw us a bath, sugar. You know you have to pee, I’ll be right here when you’re done.” You hesitantly let him go while he draws the bath, putting in your favorite oils. After you pee and wipe, he helps you up so you can wash your hands before sitting you both in the tub.
Bucky sits against the wall of the tub and you curl further into his lap, not wanting any space in between you. Somehow you still aren’t close enough to him, wanting to be surrounded completely by him. Tears are still leaking down your face and even with Bucky’s consuming presence, you can’t seem to pull yourself up to the surface. Bucky’s arms are wrapped around you, making sure that you are as close as possible without him being inside of you.
“Sweets, can you look at me? Want to see those pretty eyes.” You can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to move away. He’s your safe space and you just want to bask in his warmth. “Sweets, please. Can you tell me how you feel? I need to know you’re okay.” You don’t know why that set you off, but all of a sudden more tears escape you, sobs fighting to make their way out.
Bucky’s entire world stops, fear shoots up his spine. He doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he hurt you, if he did something that you didn’t want. He knows that you asked him to treat you like a whore, but what if you didn’t want him to go as far as he did? You used your safe word when it got to be too much, but what if you really wanted to say red, not yellow, but wanted to please him, or felt like you had to please him. “Sweetheart, did I hurt you? Did I go too far? Please talk to me.”
Even though you didn’t want to talk, you could hear that he was about to cry. “I’m okay. Just love you so much.” You could feel Bucky relax under you.
“You sure, sweets? I’ve never seen you like this before.” While some of his fears subsided, Bucky was still worried about you.
Picking your head up so you could look him in the eye, you saw just how scared Bucky truly was. “I promise, Buck, I loved every second of it. You made me feel so good and cared for. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.” Bucky closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. At that moment, Bucky understood why aftercare was so important. Of course he knew you needed to be taken care of so that you knew how much he loved you, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him feel loved in a way he didn’t know was possible. 
Before the water gets cold you’ve stopped crying, making Bucky feel much better and he washes the sweat and spit off of your face and body, being extra careful with your sensitive pussy and ass. All the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you take turns kissing each other all over.
Bucky feels ten times lighter when he gets a giggle out of you. He knows that there will be days when you need him to treat you like a slut, but you know how much he loves and respects you. He lays you on the bed before grabbing your favorite lotion to put on, being extra careful when it comes to your sore ass, placing kisses in each spot after he's rubbed in the lotion.
 The marks on your face are gone by now, but Bucky still fusses over your skin care routine, knowing you don’t have the energy to complete it. After taking care of you, he climbs into bed and covers the both of you up, still naked but you don’t care. Bucky reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs some chocolate while you feed it to each other. Neither of you say much, but nothing needs said. 
You place kisses on his chest and arms, anywhere that you can reach, trying to let him know how much you appreciate him - Bucky knows. You fall asleep first, not being able to keep your eyes open any longer, Bucky moves you to his chest, cocooning you into him before he falls asleep, your head tucked carefully under his chin, legs tangled together, completely protected by him.
3K notes · View notes
antiquarianfics · 8 months
Text
Can I?
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a/n: this is so fuckin’ goofy and not proofed. enjoy!
warnings: n/a
»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««
You follow Sam and Bucky out of the police station after a godawful impromptu therapy session with Bucky’s therapist. Sam and Bucky are arguing while you stay silent, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets while you follow. You’re zoning out, thinking about Bucky’s confession that he thinks Steve was wrong about him, when a siren pulls you out of your thoughts.
Sam and Bucky abruptly stop, and you accidentally run into Bucky’s back. Your boyfriend turns around and steadies you, shooting you an apologetic look. You shrug and turn to find John Walker and Lamar Hoskins leaning against a police vehicle.
You find the whole ordeal just as obnoxious as your partners, and are glad when Bucky essentially tells them to fuck off. But the back and forth only made you starkly aware of Walker’s entitlement. That was your main issue with him being Captain America. After all, one of the most notable traits of Steve’s that made him The Captain America was that he never felt that he deserved the title.
Sam informs Walker that the three of you—Avengers—have no interest in working as government operatives because you’re free agents. The three of you begin to walk away at that point.
“Then stay out of my way!” Walker yells after you.
You scoff as you fall into step next to Bucky, who wraps his arm around your shoulders and holding you close.
“Can I kill him?” You huff. “I want to kill him. Can I kill him?”
Sam shoots you a perplexed look while Bucky smirks in amusement.
“No,” Sam says, albeit with little conviction. His own annoyance at the forefront of his mind.
“Not in public,” Bucky says at the same time.
Sam shoots Bucky an irritated and exasperated look which causes him to backtrack.
“No, of course not, Doll,” he corrects.
You huff out a laugh at Bucky’s correction.
Quickly, the conversation shifts to the Flag Smashers and what to do. This is when Bucky suggests talking to Zemo. Sam and yourself immediately protest.
“Have you forgotten what he did to you?” Sam questions.
“I haven’t,” you mutter under your breath, but you’re certain Bucky hears it by the way he tenses and shifts uncomfortably next to you.
The conversation goes back and forth, but, ultimately, Bucky wins.
Unhappy about it, you look to Sam.
“Can I kill him?” You point to Bucky, who is still holding you.
“No!” Bucky protests.
“Not in public,” Sam laughs.
»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««
ko-fi
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xcaptain-winterx · 1 year
Note
Requests are open you say? How about Steve Rogers having a huge crush on the new recruit (reader) and being very awkward in trying to pursue her
Be a man
Steve Rogers x reader
summary: above
warnings: fluff, awkwardness, shy Steve, cum
a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.
Part 2
Main Masterlist Steve Rogers Masterlist
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Steven Grant Rogers also known as the hero Captain America. Fought against Hydra and their leader Red Skull, his brainwashed best friend, Ultron, his own team and even Thanos. You would think that Americas golden boy is unstoppable, that nothing can stop him.
You’re wrong.
See, Steve has years of experience in fighting due to the fact that he’s over a hundred years old and fought in World War Two. The only thing he doesn’t know about, or to be more specific, doesn’t have any experience with, is the opposite sex. Steve has never been on a date or had a real first kiss. Ok, yeah, he kissed Peggy and Natasha once, but that meant nothing. God, he’s still a virgin.
To sum it up, Steve is an awkward bean around women. He doesn’t always show it obviously, but ask him something not work related with a flirty smile, and he starts to sweats like a polar bear in the desert.
Steve always thought that he was going to be able to talk to ‘the girl’ once he saw her, that he will have no problem to communicate with her.
He thought wrong.
Steve is in the training room, punching the punching bag until it falls off again. He was supposed to be training with Sam, but he hasn’t shown up. So far, Sam always showed up or at least texted him if something came in between and he couldn’t make it. Steve stops hitting the punching bag and goes over to the bench where his phone is laying. He picks it up and swipes it open, seeing that he didn’t receive any text message from Sam.
It’s not normal for Sam to be late, so Steve decides that he’s going to look for Sam. He puts his phone in his pocket and walks out of the gym, in the direction of the living area.
As he walks down the hallway Bucky crosses his path, “Hey pal, have you seen Sam”, Steve asks.
“No, but I can imagine he’s talking to the new recruits, telling them something about teamwork makes the dream work, or some other shit”, Bucky says, mimicking Sam’s voice.
Steve’s brows furrow; what new recruits? Steve heard nothing about new recruits. “I don’t know anything about new recruits?”
“Transferred from a SHIELD base in Germany, I think. Sam will probably force us to introduce us to them”, Bucky says. Steve knows that it’s hard for Bucky to talk or communicate with new and many people at once, but he knows that he’s trying his best. Since he began going to therapy, his old self made more and more of an appearance, and Bucky feels a lot better in general even though it’s hard sometimes. He’s proud of Bucky. He’s trying his best.
“Better we do it now than later. Come on, Buck”, Steve says, patting his shoulder, and pulling him with him.
Bucky lets out a chuckle, “Ok”.
Both super soldiers walk towards the meeting rooms, thinking they might be there when Bucky suddenly stops walking. Steve looks at Bucky, silently questioning why he stopped. Bucky reads Steve’s facial expression before pointing towards the end of the hallway, “found him”.
Steve follows Buckys finger and sees Sam. Sam is not alone, he’s with a woman. A beautiful woman. A goddess.
Bucky sees Steve’s face heating up. “You good, pal?” he asks with a teasing voice. Steve doesn’t answer him, to lost in the woman’s beauty next to Sam. Bucky snaps his fingers in front of Steve’s face, trying to get him back to reality, but it doesn’t work.
Lost in thoughts, or to be more specific the woman, Steve doesn’t see how Sam noticed them too, and is calling them over.
“Steve!”
Steve comes back to reality when Sam calls him for the third time. Bucky laughs at Steve’s confused puppy stare, looking like he just woke up from a coma without any knowledge of what happened before. It gets worse as they see how Sam and the woman are now walking towards them. Bucky feels Steve panicking next to him. “Hey Steve, calm down, ok?” Bucky whispers to him.
“Mhm”, Steve answers, not being able to form any words. Sam and the Woman getting closer and closer to them.
“Remember, we just introduce ourselves” Bucky tries to calm him down, his own anxiety leaving and instead focusing on helping his friend, “You can do this. Just remember to think and talk at the same time, and don’t just stare at her”. If his friend wasn’t looking like a dead fish Bucky would’ve really enjoyed this moment. Him helping his friend talk to a woman like he did back in the 40s, but nothing about Steve’s current problem is funny. Well, maybe the fact that he for real looks like a dead fish.
“Ok” Steve says.
“Ok”
“Ok”
“You can do this, Steve”
“Ok”
And the woman gets closer and closer.
Steve begins to murmur what he wants to say, making Bucky look nervously at him.
The woman and Sam are now almost completely by them as Steve suddenly says, “I need to finish the mission report”, before sprinting the other direction.
“Hey, why did Steve-“ Sam can’t finish because Bucky is already sprinting after Steve, leaving him and the woman utterly confused. “BUCKY!”
Sam puts his hands on his hips, “normally they are not like this, ok? They probably just remembered to take their anti-aging cream”. He turns to you, “Super soldiers, you know”.
You smile as Sam claps your shoulders and says, “how about I show you the training room?”. You nod, letting him lead you to the training room.
Meanwhile, Steve is sprinting towards his room, looking like a gazelle who’s running away from a predator. Steve thought he could talk to her, but no.
Once he reaches his room, he locks the door, and then just stands there, staring at the locked door; what just happened? He begins to hyperventilate like how his pre serum self did when he had an asthma attack. The room feels like it’s shrinking. Steve feels small and scared. Just the sight of the woman made him with a snap of a finger feel like his weak 40s self before the serum. Back when no one liked him.
While Steve is having a panic attack, Bucky is running towards Steve’s room. Bucky started running after him some seconds after he sprinted away, and normally Bucky would’ve caught up to him, but Steve’s panic and the super soldier serum made it a bit difficult. Luckily, Bucky knows Steve like no one else and knows that he’s hiding in his room.
“Steve?” Bucky asks, knocking on the door. “You good, pal? Can I come in?”. He waits, but no answer comes, so he tries opening the door but it’s locked.
Bucky sighs, “Steve, let me in”.
On the other side, Steve is debating if he should let his best friend in. His debating goes too long for Bucky though because the next thing Steve hears is Bucky saying ‘Friday unlock the door’, and the door opens.
Bucky walks in, seeing a teared eyed Steve who’s breathing fast and heavy. Bucky strikes over to him and pulls him slowly down to the floor, sitting face to face with each other. He takes his hand and puts it on his heart, “Steve, hey. Focus on me. Focus on my heartbeat. You feel mine?” Bucky says, putting his other hand on Steve’s heart, feeling how his heart is still beating fast. “Steve, focus on my heartbeat”.
Steve looks at his friend and tries to focus on his heart. He closes his eyes, only trying to listen to Bucky’s heartbeat. “Yeah, I feel it”.
Bucky gives him a smile, “ok, good”.
They sit in silent for a few minutes, Steve’s heart beating now slower and his breaths coming out normally.
Bucky waits until Steve’s heartbeat is fully back to normal before asking “better?”.
Steve nods, “I didn’t think we would have had to use that method on me”, he says chuckling.
This calming method showed Bucky’s therapist, Steve. She told him that it would help Bucky calm down when he’s having a panic attack, and it did in fact help. The night after she explained it to him, Bucky woke up from a nightmare and started to panic. Steve’s room is right next to him, so he heard his friend’s panic. He tried the method that night and it worked perfectly. It took some while until Bucky calmed down, but it was way faster than without the method, and Bucky was able to fall asleep again after.
To other people, this method may look a bit weird, but it calms his best friend down, so who cares? It’s also no surprise that Steve is the only one allowed to do this method. Sam once tried it and Bucky punched him in his face when he put his hand on his chest. Sam left the room angrily and annoyed with a broken bloody nose. Bucky punched him with his metal arm. He thought Sam was in danger that second and in a state of danger he uses his metal arm. Bucky apologized to Sam though, and he truly felt bad and sorry. Sam instantly forgave him though, he knows it wasn’t his intention.
At least not in that situation.
Bucky even ‘baked’ Sam some brownies. Well, more like bought some Brownies and said he baked them. Sam knew he didn’t, but said nothing and just enjoyed eating some good, tasteless brownies with a smile on his face.
“Well, we didn’t think you would ever run away from a girl”.
Steve sighs, “Yeah. Back then, they would run away from me. Now it’s me running away”
“Why did you?”
Steve shakes his head. “I don’t know. I got scared I guess?”.
When Steve looks at Bucky again, he comes to face with a blank stare. It kinda reminds him of Bucky’s winter soldier stare. If they weren’t having an emotional and serious conversation, Steve would’ve been actually concerned that something happened that made Bucky go into Winter Soldier mindset.
Bucky scares Steve when he suddenly jumps up, “You know what” he pulls Steve up, almost making him fall over “You will have that girl”.
“Huh?” he asks, confused.
“Or just someone”.
He doesn’t like the thought of Bucky helping him. Bucky was a true player back then, a gentleman, but a player.
“I help you talk to women. I can do that. I did that a hundred years ago” he stops when he realizes “fucking hell, that’s a long time ago”.
Steve scowls, “Language, Buck”.
“Sorry”.
“I get that you’re trying to help me, and I appreciate that” Steve takes a deep breath before continuing, “but I can’t”
“Why?” Bucky asks crossing his arms, standing like an angry parent.
“I just can’t, ok? Also, colleges are not allowed to be in a romantic relationship”.
“Then look for someone else. There’s this woman named Leah. She works at my favorite sushi place and I heard-“
“I don’t want someone else!”
Bucky raises an eyebrow, a teasing grin on his face. “Ohhhh, so you want her. Ok, Steven. I see you”. He winks at Steve as he groans.
“I didn’t say that. I just-ugh, I like her, but-there’s not gonna be anything between us” he tries to give his best friend a reassuring smile, but knowingly fails. “You can ask Leah out”, Steve tries changing the topic.
“No, she’s not my type”.
Bucky knows that Steve won’t stop having a crush on the new recruit. It took Steve a hundred years to get over Peggy. He was still in love with her even after being unfrozen. Now imagine he’s thinking about the new recruit until he dies. Bucky doesn’t want that. God, he was honestly happy when Peggy passed. That woman was like a snake slithering her way into his friends heart only to poison it. He didn’t like her from the second she interrupted Steve and his conversation. Dumb Bitch.
He wants his friend to be happy. He wants to be an uncle. He hopes Steve will get himself together and talk to her.
“Ok. Whatever you say”, Bucky says, patting him on his shoulder. They continue talking, but this time about what movie they are going to watch for their ‘we need to learn about cinematic history’ movie night. While talking, Bucky’s mind continues to wander back to their original conversation, and about the fact that Steve doesn’t want some dating teaching from him. In all honesty, he’s slightly hurt by that.
He could still help him somehow, though.
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It’s been a week now since he saw the new recruit and he’s been trying to avoid any situation that could lead to him seeing her. Steve knows it sounds silly, but he’s scared of her. Scared of seeing her. Scared of her seeing him. He hasn’t been training for a week. Steve knows the chances are high that she will be there. The only sort of trying he did this week was going for a run. Alone.
Sam noticed a change in Steve. Everybody did. Steve was never a huge extrovert and now he’s such an introvert. He doesn’t even eat with them anymore because she could be there, or just walk past them eating.
Today he needs to be brave, though. Bucky asked him to train together because he’s the only good match for him. Bucky told him that winning against Sam slowly starts to get boring, and that Steve needs to train again. Cardio is good, but Steve needs to do more.
After trying to convince Bucky that they can also train outside or anywhere else than the training room, he knew from Bucky’s reaction that it’s not gonna happen. So now he’s on his way to meet Bucky in the training room.
To say Steve is nervous is an understatement, he’s almost shitting his pants.
Bucky assured him they would have the room for themselves and Steve just hopes that that’s true.
Steve walks into the gym and surprisingly sees no one. No Bucky. Steve was already late because he was nervous, so it confuses him why Bucky isn’t here. He looks at the clock on the wall and sees that he’s sixteen minutes late, meaning Bucky is to late too.
“Maybe he’s still asleep”, Steve tells himself. Technically, he would be happy that Bucky is able to sleep, but it’s the first time since a week that he’s training and last time, Sam already didn’t come.
He is just about to go to Bucky’s room when he hears a soft voice.
“Well, it’s only seven in the morning”.
Steve turns around and freezes.
It’s the woman
Oh, no no no no no
“Every normal person would be asleep at this time”.
Steve is unable to speak, he’s just staring at her. Not even blinking, just staring.
She looks at him with a smile, waiting for an answer, or just something.
When Steve realizes that she’s waiting for an answer, he clears his throat. “Yeah, uhm-I uh, I mean he likes to sleep-uh- he can’t sleep that much and-uhm yeah. He normally only uhm-sleeps with me- Wait not like that-uh I mean, he just likes to sleep with me-no. He uhm, he sleeps better with-me-uhm because I’m a good sleep partner- no, I just-uhm. IM NOT GAY”.
Steve looks at her with wide eyes. He knows he just made a fool of himself, so he tries to save himself.
Tries.
“There’s obviously nothing wrong with liking-uhm men, but I’m not like that. Yeah, uhm I hate men- wait not hate men, I like them, but platonic like ha ha. I like woman. But I’m not a relationship-I uhm”, he doesn’t want to look like he is desperate for a relationship. She could think that he’s trying to ‘hit on her’. He believes that what it’s called, but you can never trust Tony. “I’m not into relationship- uhm, the romantic, uh, kind-just the other kind”
Now she looks at him with wide eyes. The only other non-relationship kind she can think of is the sexual one. She can’t believe that Captain Rogers, the golden boy, is such a man. The worst part is that Steve doesn’t understand what he just said and instead looks at her with a nervous smile. Poor boy thought it sounded more like normal relationship, platonic kind. It didn’t, though.
“You do you, I guess” she says, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. She didn’t think her first time meeting Captain America would be like this.
Steve sees that she’s not comfortable or at least confused by what he’s saying. Maybe she doesn’t like his answer.
So he continues to try to fix this conversation.
“I uhm I would like a relationship-with someone-uh I want to-“ he can’t say dancing, that sounds boring. He needs to come up with something that everyone does these days. Something that she would probably like “do Netflix and chill”.
Steve needs to get better at telling when he can trust Tony and when not.
“Oh, uhm” she doesn’t know what to say “that’s nice I guess”.
Right now, Steve would rather fight against HYDRA than talk to her. He can feel how he’s sweating. And if that already isn’t bad enough, he starts to really look at her. Oh boy.
She’s wearing tight black leggings with a matching black sport bra. She must’ve been already training for a while because he sees some drops of sweat on her chest area, running to her cleavage. Steve is directly looking at her cleavage, not taking his eyes off it.
He doesn’t notice that he’s looking at it, well, that he’s so obviously looking at it.
She puts her left hand on her right shoulder, acting like she’s massaging it, and not like she’s trying to cover her chest.
Steve’s eyes move to hers, and it only takes three seconds until realization hits him.
“Shit!” he screams, making her jump “oh, I’m sorry I didn’t want to scare you-I uhm, and I didn’t want to stare at your you know-chest. Not because they are not pretty, they are-NO Uhmmm, they uh. It’s just”.
Steve stops talking when the door opens and Bucky walks in with a smile on his face “Language, Steve. Good morning you two”. At least someone is having one.
“Morning”, she says, smiling at his best friend before walking away to lift some weight. Deep down they are both happy that Bucky saved them from the awkward situation, though, Steve is also sad because he wanted to talk to her, to have a chance, but he failed.
Bucky smiles after her, then turns to Steve. “Hey Steve, how are you?”
“You knew, didn’t you” Steve almost spats, his voice echoing throughout the training room. He turns around and sees how she is looking at them.
He quickly turns back around, facing Bucky, who just gives him an innocent smile. “What do you mean Steve?”. Bucky knows that Steve can’t say anything about that, due to the fact that she can hear everything they are saying.
Steve glares at him, grinding his teeth. “That you would be late”, he lies.
“Yeah”.
Steve wants to scream, but he can’t “why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his veins showing.
“I texted you, Punk”, Bucky says as he walks over to get a punching bag.
Steve frowns; Bucky didn’t text him. He pulls out his phone.
Love❤️‍🔥- I’ll be a bit late
Send one minute ago
Steve cringes as he sees the name Tony and Sam saved Bucky on his phone. He would rather want Punk with that heart. Platonic style. He doesn’t know how to change it, though.
“Didn’t you see my message?” Bucky gives him a fake questioning expression. A teasing one.
“I must have missed it”, Steve says in a monotone voice “I mean it says you send it a minute ago. Bucky”.
“Oh, you know. The signal is quite bad here”
Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, Bucky. You would’ve thought that Tony would’ve already handled it”.
Bucky snickers “Yeah”.
“Yeah”.
Bucky walks with the bag over his shoulder towards a hook to hang the bag on. He turns to look at Steve, a grin on his face when his eyes move to look behind Steve.
“Hey, how about you help her, Steve~”, Bucky says loudly.
Steve follows his eyes and sees how the recruit is struggling with moving some weights out of her way, so she can put the bench there to do some bench presses.
She looks at them and gives them a shy smile. “That would be kinda nice”.
Steve looks back at Bucky, panic in his eyes. Bucky gives him a big smile that says ‘yes’.
It’s time, it’s time to shine, Steve. He can do that, he can easily lift that.
‘Ok, Steve. Pull your ass cheeks together and help her’ he thinks to himself as he walks towards her. He stops in front of her, getting lost in her eyes for a second. This time he snaps back quickly though and moves the weights away.
“Thank you, Captain Rogers”, she says, his back still towards her.
“Mhm” he can’t bring out a single word. Instead of turning back to her, he sorts the weights, so she doesn’t see him blushing. “You-You’re welcome”.
He hears her getting on the bench and takes that as his cue to leave.
“Hey, Steve!”
Please, don’t Bucky.
“You should help her. Stay behind her to make sure that her arms don’t give in”
Steve doesn’t turn around this time. He can hear how she doesn’t lift any weight, meaning she is looking at them.
“Yeah, I uhm would, but- mission reports. I need to finish the mission report”, Steve lies “important stuff you know. Not like helping her isn’t important, but yeah. Avenger stuff is important….”.
It’s that second that Bucky realizes that Steve is the worst person in admitting his crush he ever met. The best friend he is, he needs to help him. “Oh, I already did them for you”.
Great, now Steve’s lie is a lie. Thank you, Bucky.
“No, I don’t think you did”, he tries to save himself “They were on my desk this morning, unfinished”
Good job, Steve.
“I did them this morning. We were on the same mission, Steve. Only one of us needs to do them” Bucky says, punching the bag “I send you a message”.
“No, you didn’t-“ he looks at his phone to see a message from Bucky.
Love❤️‍🔥-already did the mission report.
Send a minute ago.
Bucky knows Steve like the back of his hand. He knew what excuses he would use to try to flee the scene. A laugh almost leaves his mouth as he sees the face Steve is making. God, he missed teasing him.
“I thought you were asleep”.
“No, I wanted to finish it. You’ve been quite stressed the past week, and I wanted to lift some weight of your shoulders”.
“Thanks, James”.
The tension between them is noticeable. So noticeable that the recruit is more uncomfortable than when she was alone with Steve.
She gets their attention when she walks past them to grab her water bottle. “Have fun training”
“You already leaving?” Steve asks disappointed, sad that she’s leaving.
“Yeah, I’ve already been training before you both came. Also, I need to find Sam. He promised to show me the rest of the compound. I only saw half of the facility so far and don’t want to get lost at some point”, she says. So far she didn’t get lost because the most important areas were already introduced to her, but it’s better to know the whole compound. “Bye” she waves them before opening the door and walking through it.
No one says anything until the door closes. Bucky is the first to break the silence, “wow”.
“I know you did that on purpose!”
“I was trying to make you talk to her” he grabs his shoulder “I just want to help you. She’s a beautiful woman-“
“Hey!”
“See” Bucky says, “you’re jealous when I just say that she’s pretty. You have a crush on that girl, Steve”.
Steve sighs in defeat. “Ok, maybe”.
“I KNEW IT” Bucky screams, jumping like a little kid on Christmas morning “FUCK YES, STEVE”
“Language”
He stops jumping and looks at him. “You will get that girl. I promise” Bucky looks like he’s about to cry “oh my god, you’re all grown up”.
Steve lets out a slight laugh. It’s almost ridiculous how happy Bucky is that there’s a girl that he kinda likes. It reminds him of how they talked about their futures when they were little. They talked about carriers and family, and how they will be called uncle Steve and uncle Bucky by their best friends kids.
“Are you crying?” he asks, seeing Bucky wipe his eye.
“Pfff, no”.
Oh, he’s definitely crying.
“Calm down, Bucky. Just because I like her doesn’t mean that she likes me”.
“Yeah, because you’re just an Avenger, the symbol of America, a super soldier, owner of America’s ass-“
“Ok, I get it”. Steve isn’t dumb, he knows that people know him, that he’s quite famous; god he sounds like Tony. All this doesn’t make him the most liked person in the world, though, and not everyone fall for him. Not just because he has blond hair and some women like dark hair, or he is to old schooled and doesn’t know every new show on Netflix, or women are not into him because they hate male genitals and prefer women’s….parts. The shield only shows what he shows the world and not the people he cares about. He doesn’t show his emotional side with all his flaws.
“You like her, right” Bucky asks, knowing the answer.
“Yes, of course, but-“
“Then you will go to her and tell her that”. Bucky claps his hands. “You will tell her how much you like her. You will take her dancing and to the movies. Understand?”
“Yes, Sargent” Steve smiles.
“I know she’s the one. You will propose to her at sunset and give me some nephews and nieces”. Steve laughs at Bucky’s hyper fixation about his crush. Both of them are acting like two teenage girls.
“A uncle to Steve Jr’s and….uhm…what’s her name again”
“……”
“………..”
“……………”
“………you don’t know her name?”
“no, not really”. Well, that’s awkward.
“Oh my god, Steve”, Bucky is regretting his decision to help his friend “how about we start with you introducing yourself?”
“Bucky, please don’t do anything stupid”, Steve pleads. He doesn’t want Bucky to give him to much pressure. The thought of Bucky trapping them in a closet scares him, or him basically throwing him against her.
Bucky just looks at him confused. “You will do something stupid. I’m here to prevent that from happening”.
“Promise?”
“Promise” Bucky says showing Steve his hands “I swear on Sam’s life”.
Steve smile slowly falls and Bucky corrects himself “ok, I swear on uhm, your life”.
“I guess that’s ok”
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Since then Bucky’s been on the mission ‘get a sister-in-law’, with no luck though. He thought being a wingman would be easier, but it’s not. Definitely not. Or he has just a bad person that he needs to help.
So far Steve had like four times eye contact, spoke two sentences in two conversations. The one sentence only being two words.
The best try so far was when Steve was in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, when she came and asked him if he could move a bit so she can get to the fridge, and Steve said ‘yes’. He said something, made eye contact, didn’t walk away and didn’t stutter. He didn’t even sweat! Steve did this on his own without him and for that he needs an applause.
And the worst try was when he was ‘forced’ to train with her.
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“You can do this Steve”, Bucky whispers to Steve before giving him a pat on the shoulder and pushing him towards the mat.
Steve still hasn’t introduced himself yet, so Bucky thought it would be a good opportunity to see the skills of the new recruits and to train with them. Surprisingly, Steve is now sparring against his crush, the woman they still don’t know the name of.
Steve walks on the mat, giving a quick look over his shoulder to see Bucky giving him a thumbs up.
He takes a deep breath before saying, “Ok, come at me”.
To say he’s impressed is an understatement. He’s fascinated by her skills, by the way she moves with such grace. Instead of directly coming at him and trying to punch him, she moves around him. She does that the whole time, dodging every single move of him while he tries to land a hit on her, well, more like pinch her. He wouldn’t hurt her. Ever.
At some point Steve finally manages to get a hold of her, but she is quicker and kicks his one leg away and then uses his arms to lift her up and wrap her legs around his neck, bringing him down. Steve is now on the mat with her legs around his neck, her directly hovering over his face. Steve doesn’t know why, but he’s not complaining about this position.
He gets himself back together and uses his legs to his lower back of the mat and makes a roll, so now she’s on the mat, with him in between her legs.
Steve can be lucky that most of the recruits are already doing their own thing because this is not a professional normal work position. Sam, who just walked in, stopped next to Bucky when he sees the scene. He looks at Bucky and sees how he’s directly looking at where Steve’s face is.
“Stop doing your creepy eye thing”, Sam tells him, but Bucky simply ignores him. Sam is about to say something when he hears a loud slam, and sees her on top of Steve, straddling his hips “oh”.
This scene doesn’t last long though because Steve flips them around, now straddling her hips and pinning her arms above her head. She tries to move around under him, successfully. Her back towards and is about to use her knees to make him fall off. Steve thinks quicker though and flips them again. Her back against his chest and his back against the floor. He wraps his legs around each of her legs, making her unable to move them, while he wraps his arms around her neck, taking her in a headlock. She tries to wiggle away, but can’t.
She taps his arm, signaling him that he won. Steve lets her go, softly lifting her arm to help her up, and then getting up after her.
“Everything ok?” he asks, wanting to make sure that he didn’t hurt her in some kind. That would definitely make admitting his feelings harder.
“Yes”, she smiles at him, panting slightly, “thank you, Captain Rogers, for training with me”. The smile she gives him is a true, generous smile. Steve doesn’t see how Sam and Bucky are exchanging scared looks.
“Y-You don’t need to tank me”, Steve says. Now it’s the time to introduce himself; he can do it. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “And you can call me S-“
He gets pulled away by Bucky, forcefully getting pushed against his chest. Steve looks Bucky confused into his eyes as Bucky pulls him with him behind the corner, out of sight of her, with Sam walking next to them. All the way to behind the corner Bucky keeps Steve against him, while Sam blogs other from seeing Steve’s side.
“What are you doing? I was just about to introduce myself”
Sam looks at him with wide eyes. “Yeah, something else was also about to introduce himself” and points to Steve’s crotch.
Steve looks down and sees what Sam is talking about.
For the first time, the golden boy is having a boner. A huge one. The serum really did make everything bigger.
“Oh, no no no no” Steve goes.
“Hey, it’s ok” Bucky tries calming him down “it’s uhm normal”
“Yeah, you know how many boners I had in my life”, Sam continues.
“See, even Sam thinks so. Did you ever notice how often I had when we were out with some girls, or just when I was thinking about one”, Bucky continues, Sam nodding his head the whole time. Both giving Steve a smirk. “You have them everywhere. In the shower, during work, in bed, I even had them when we had a sleepover”.
“Oh my god” Steve hates talking about that. He doesn’t know what’s worst, talking about women things or about men and their boners. “I had it in front of her, in front of everyone” he cries out.
Sam pats his shoulder. “No one saw it”
“You did!”.
“Because we watched both of you”, Sam assures him. “The others did their own thing, and she looked in your eyes, man. Not what’s below Captain America’s waist”
“Maybe she felt it though”, Bucky says.
“Bucky!”
“Your not helping, man”, Sam shrugs and looks down “ok, maybe she did because you know, it’s not small”
“See, Wilson! You agree”
Steve had never been this embarrassed in his entire life. He covers his erection with his hands, but it only makes it more obvious. He’s trying to cover his boner while his two best friends are talking about his penis size and how often they get a boner. He wants to dig himself a grave.
“Guys!” Steve whisper screams, getting their attention back. “I need to get rid of it”.
“Of your giant boner?”
“Yeas, Sam. What else is there to get rid of?” Steve says. Bucky slaps Sam on the back of his head, with no context at all. “What was that for, Bucky?”
He shrugs “I know you would like to do that, but are too nice to actually do it”. Steve just wanted to have a nice day where he maybe finally managed to speak to the woman of his dreams, but no, everything had to go like shit. “What do I do?”.
Sam and Bucky look at each other before letting out an obvious loud breath of air. They turn to Steve. “Well, you could try to calm down” Sam says, and Bucky continues “or you could, you know, help yourself out”.
“No!” Steve doesn’t even want to imagine helping himself out. The simple thought disgusts him and he feels an incredible feeling of shame.
Steve shakes his head at them. “Tell me something, that helps uhm, the problem”.
“Remember when your mom caught us looking through her drawers and spanked you”.
“….”
“….”
“….”
“Are you getting harder?” Sam asks, looking at his now slightly bigger boner.
“N-no” Steve pushes with all might on his boner to get it down “s-say something else”. He begs his friends for help.
Bucky looks hopeless “I don’t know what to say to get her off of your mind”. Steve wants to say something when Sam holds up his hands.
“Hold up, her off of your mind” he says looking at Steve, “so it wasn’t just because you got a bit close to her”. The smirk on his face is huge, a teasing one.
Steve groans out of frustration and pain.
“You know, I could see you together”, Sam goes, giving him a thump up.
“I know, but he’s too afraid to ask her. He couldn’t even introduce himself”.
“You didn’t introduce yourself to y/n?”
Steve looks at him and repeats her name softly. Y/n. Your name sound like an angel, a page out of the Bible that you worship and say as a pray. He would do that. Say your name like it’s a holy prayer. He wants to say your name again again and again. Whispering your name in your ear as you slowly share a kiss.
“Shit” Bucky says. He thought that Steve’s boner couldn’t get any bigger, but he was wrong. So wrong. It’s now almost twice as big as before. “Sam, why did you say that?!”
“I didn’t know this was going to happen! I just said her name. I didn’t think he would get hard because of a name”.
“Well, he did!”
They hear people coming into the training room. A lot by the sound of their talking. At least fifteen entered the room. Now you add them three, plus y/n and plus the seven recruits that were already in here. That makes twenty-six people. Two, Sam and Bucky, already saw Steve’s boner.
“Guys!” Steve screams “what do I do?!”, hiding more in the corner.
“Obviously getting her out of your head doesn’t work”.
“How about you stay in front of me while I walk out”.
Both shake their head “they would see you though and stare at you. Also, there are too many. You wouldn’t make it out unnoticed”.
“What if I wait until they leave”.
“Steve, they will eventually walk to this corner when they get more weights, and then see you”
Steve looks hopeless. “Bring me some pants that- I don’t know, doesn’t show my you know”.
“Steve…nothing can hide that boner”, Sam says “there is only one option”.
“What?”
“you could…help yourself out, Steve”
“No”
“Steve, please”
“No”
“Pal, listen-“
“No, Bucky. I can’t do that. I can’t just touch my…member…and..bring myself pleasure”, Steve hates talking about it. “How am I even suppose to do it?!”
“You take your dick in your hand and hold it tight, then you start to move your hand up and down. Personally, I would advise you to do it fast but-“
“I meant where!” he covers his ears trying to forget what Bucky just said. Though he learned something new. “I can’t just do it here, it would..spill”
Sam looks around until he sees something that could help “take this to collect your sperms”. He shows Steve an empty probably by someone forgotten water bottle.
“But-“ Steve knows that this is the only way and that he should accept it, but he doesn’t want to “fine”.
“I wait around the corner so no one walks over here, while Bucky makes sure you don’t get a heart attack” Sam says, winking before walking around the corner. Bucky gives Steve a slight smile before turning around. He doesn’t need to see his best friend Masturbate.
Surprisingly, Steve isn’t that loud. Sam only heard him once or twice a bit louder. One time he was screaming Bucky’s name because he turned around for a second.
Sam walks over to them when Bucky gives him a thump up. Steve is sitting on the floor, panting heavenly. Next to him, a completely full to the top water bottle. Or more like cum bottle.
“Congratulations on your first orgasm, Steve”
They are on their way out now, happy that Steve doesn’t have a big gun in his pants anymore.
“Hey, Sam”
Fuck
“Hey, Y/n” Sam smiles, while Steve panics. He’s drenched in sweat and is holding a bottle of his own cum.
You smile at Bucky and Steve too. You look at Steve and see how he looks like he’s in pain and completely drenched. “Are you ok, Captain Rogers?”.
Bucky and Sam quickly cover him up. “Oh yeah, he’s fine, he just-“
“Is hungry!”
“Uhm yeah and you know how you can get sick when you didn’t eat”
“Yeah ya get really sick”
You stare at them for a second, trying to process what they said. “Oh, maybe you should drink your shake then, Captain Rogers”, and point to his ‘shake’, and give him a smile.
“I-“
Bucky stops Steve. “Yeah no, he will just get something from the kitchen, you know?”.
“Bucky’s right, uhm I don’t think that would be such a smart idea to drink the shake. Hah ha” Steve says awkwardly.
Your smile falls. “Oh, yeah sure. I just thought that would help. We don’t want you passing out”.
Was his answer mean, is what Steve thinks. He doesn’t want you to think he just didn’t drink the ‘shake’ because you said that. Steves heart pains as he sees your reaction; you looked so sad. It obviously isn’t that big of a deal. Surely you forget about it later, but what if you don’t? You don’t forget that he didn’t want to drink the ‘shake’. What if you think you’re dumb for asking that? He thinks for a second, a long second, a second that will change everything.
“You’re right”, and opens the cap.
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Rain Therapy | Bucky Barnes
bucky barnes x fem!reader ✧ oneshot
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Summary: The line between friends and lovers is impossibly thin, yet somehow the hardest line to cross. It's a line that you and Bucky just can't seem to break, but it's nothing one of Tony's infamous parties can't fix.
A/N: Another fluffy one for me, which is still something I'm growing used to writing. I'm getting anxious for some angst, so ask me for some and I'll see what I can do!
Warnings: two idiots in love, slight angst, tooth-rotting fluff, language, allusions to smutty content, jealous Bucky
Word Count: 7,206
✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦
The whisper of lightning, the promise of thunder, the answer of rain. The sky darkens and the sun is forgotten, casting a gloomy light on the earth below.
And yet, in the midst of all that chaos, I find it to be a chemical mixture for peace.
“Y/N, Y/N what the hell are you doing out there?”
That illusion of peace shatters, and I let out low groan, keeping my eyes shut as the raindrops fall down on my form outstretched on the pavement.
“I was having a peaceful moment of bliss until someone decided now was an opportune time to bother me,” I call back.
“An opportune time to-” I hear him cut off incredulously, muttering something to himself as heavy, booted feet slosh through the rain to reach me, “Get off the damn driveway, doll. You’re gonna get sick.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s a myth,” I respond, staying pleasantly where I lay right in front of the Avengers Compound.
“Myth my ass, now get up and inside before I throw you over my shoulder and do it for you.”
I click my tongue, not having to open my eyes to know my best friend is standing right beside me, “So much violence, so much language. You should join me, some inner peace would do you good.”
Thunder cracks above, rumbling through the earth and into my bones. Even though I don’t hear his steps moving away, Bucky goes silent beside me. I begin to think he’s taking me up on my offer of a little rain therapy.
“See,” I sigh into the cacophony of nature, “Isn’t that peaceful? Maybe-”
I don’t even have time to react when a pair of strong arms, one of them freezing cold due to the metal in the rain, grab my waist and lift me clear off the floor. My eyes snap open with a jolt as I see myself being thrown over Bucky’s shoulder just like he promised.
“What the-” I stop myself as he secures me with his arm dangerously near my ass and slap his broad, muscular back, “You little bitch!”
“A little bitch who’s gonna keep you from getting a cold,” Bucky responds, and I can hear the smugness in his tone from back here, “Is the rain still peaceful?”
“No, there’s a jackass who got in the way.”
I feel his body rumble with laughter, feel the noise pass through my body and make my heart tumble in its cage. With that, his arm edging near a zone that’s clearly more than friends, and the sight of his wet t-shirt stuck to his back, I feel the anger flood from my body. Instead, I find myself thinking about what his abs look like with his rain-soaked shirt pressed against them.
Damn it, I’ve really got it bad.
I try my hardest to shove the image from my mind, but it only sticks harder and makes the spot where Bucky’s hand rests burn. I notice his metal hand on the other side, rain dripping off of it, and I can’t help but let my mind trace to-
I halt my thinking abruptly. He’s your best friend, he’s your best friend, he’s your best friend.
He’s my unfairly hot, broody, and annoyingly heart-fluttering best friend
With his free hand, Bucky shoves open the front doors to the Avenger’s Compound, walking a few steps until we enter one of the large, high-ceiling living areas where a television blasts a movie.
“I told you,” Tony announces after the group of my friends and teammates sees Bucky walking in with me on his shoulder, “Sam, you owe me five bucks.”
“Put me down, terminator,” I grunt, to which Bucky finally sets me on my feet.
Immediately I go to hit him, but the sudden change in my body’s gravity sends me off balance slightly. I stumble back slightly, trying to make the blood rush from my head so I can balance again.
“Woah, careful there, Bambi,” Bucky laughs, gripping onto my waist to help steady me.
Where his hands touch, metal and skin alike, my skin sets on fire. The radiating electricity from his touch only annoys me further and I shove out of his hands, swatting his chest.
“I’m fine,” I grumble, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze and holding a finger in his face like a scolding parent, “Next time you manhandle me, I’m going to remove your arm like Ayo showed me.”
Bucky smirks at me coolly and says something, but I miss it because my eyes drop down to where his t-shirt sticks to his abs from the rain. Just like I imagined it would, it makes my mouth go dry and my heartbeat miss a step.
“See something you like?” Bucky taunts.
Cheeks flushed, I look up at him calmly and smile, “Just thinking about what a shame a body like that is wasted on the grumpiest man alive.”
The group of Avengers lounging around the various chairs and couches in the living room snicker, their attention drawn from the television. He lifts an eyebrow at me and those infuriating steel blue eyes ricochet my pulse.
“Sure you were.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, turning and looking at team, “Who bet against me?”
Tony, Bruce, Wanda, and Nat lifts their hands and I gasp, pressing a hand to my chest in feigned hurt.
“Traitors,” I grumble, not being able to stop the smile that wants to twitch onto my lips as Bucky walks up beside me and rests his arm on my shoulder.
“They bet right, didn’t they?”
I look up at him with the half-smile I wasn’t able to stop, “Screw you,”
I turn around and leave the living room, making my way towards my room so I can shower and change. From behind me, I hear Bucky’s laugh that sears itself into my memory.
“Love you too, doll!” He calls out, and my heart launches into my throat.
He doesn’t mean it like I want him to, not like how I mean it. Not like how I've meant it for months.
As I finally get to the confines of my bedroom, I shut to the door and let out a trembling breath. I keep my back pressed to the door for a moment, leaning my head against it and forcing myself to forget the way his hands felt, to strike from my memory the beauty of his laugh. When I finally peel off my wet clothes and step into a scalding hot shower, I let the water and steam surround me long after I'm already clean.
I'm a coward, a coward and a fool for falling for my best friend and not being able to say a word to him about it.
Long after I'm out of the shower and cuddled up with a book on my bed, a knock sounds on my door. I've barely glanced up at it in confusion when Natasha's voice calls out, "I know you're probably reading a book but put it down and let me in unless you want me to break down the door."
A half-smile tugs onto my lips and I set my book aside, untangling myself from my covers and opening the door for my friend. She gives me a smug smile and waltzes in, plopping down on my bed. I can't help but shake my head at her as she makes herself at home.
"Why are all of my friends so violent?" I taunt, sitting down next to her.
"Most of us are trained assassins." Nat gives me a playful nudge, already lifting my spirits from the gloom and doom they were resting in. Her knowing gaze immediately notifies me that I can't escape the conversation to come, so I don't even bother to skirt around it.
"Why does my life suck?" I groan, dropping down onto my back dramatically. Nat laughs beside me, shaking her head down at me.
"So many questions tonight," She remarks, following the words with a tired sigh and laying down beside me. As we both stare up at my ceiling, my mind is held captive by one person. Both it and my heart have been held hostage and I'm starting to understand the truth in Stockholm Syndrome.
"You know, and brace yourself because this is gonna blow your mind, you could just tell him how you feel," Nat advises.
"And risk ruining everything that we already have?" I reply, my brows creased in an ever-present state of worry, "I could live with being friends with him forever as long as it meant I still had him in my life. But if I tell him how I feel and it changes everything to the point where he can't even be around me?"
I take a charged pause, startled by the sudden rise of emotion. I swallow down the burning pain, but ultimately I decide to go easy on my breaking heart. The poor thing doesn't know any better. All it knows is that it wants Bucky Barnes and I keep locking it and its desires into a cage of bones in my chest.
"A life without him...I couldn't live like that."
Nat sits up beside me, catching my attention in time to see the sympathy flashing across her features, "Y/N, I know it's scary but if you'd just trust me I think the outcome would surprise you."
She can tell that I'm still not convinced, so in a last ditch effort to rally me from my slumber of inaction, she reaches across me and grabs the book I was reading. I sit up, a protest just starting on my tongue as I reach for it. She pulls it out of my reach and holds it in front of her chest, displaying the cover for me to see.
"Do any of the characters in these books ever fare well from denying their passions?" Nat asks, and I find that she has me in a figurative corner, "Do their stories end well when they decide, 'Nah, I'm too scared to tell him I love him'?"
"I don't love him," I protest, but the lie is sour on my tongue and allergic to my soul. It gets rejected so quickly by everything within me that I almost think I'll have a physical reaction to it.
"Bullshit." Nat challenges, setting the book aside and grabbing my hands. I shake my head, trying to escape her arguments that my heart jumps in agreement with.
It's a brutal thing, to have your heart yearn for one thing and your mind so resolutely against it. I've always thought it strange how the dichotomy of desires could root in a person, but it makes sense in a way. The heart is led by our passions, our intuitive cravings. The mind is hardwired by nature and instinct to protect us, to propel our survivals.
Even if that means our passions must be slaughtered.
I'm keeping my mind in charge by sheer will that's hanging precariously over the edge of a cliff. My will only has a few fingers left to hold with, and I can feel it slipping every day Bucky's near me, every time his skin brushes mine, every time he simply is.
“I need to move on,” I almost desperately announce, gripping handfuls of my sweatshirt to keep from crying, “I need a way to move or this is going to kill me. He’s going to kill me.”
Sympathetic to my distress, Natasha lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder, “You know, with Tony’s Semi-Annual Charity Gala coming up this weekend it’s the perfect time to move on.”
I perk up slightly, the thought breaking a sliver of hope in the pit of despair and self-pity I allow to well up. For an Avenger, I sure know how to wallow in pain.
“…or make a move on a certain super soldier.” Nat continues.
“Don’t be silly, I’d never steal Steve away from you,” I jest, my tone wavering but stronger than before. Nat rolls her eyes from beside me before shoving my shoulder. With a sigh, I finally meet my friend’s gaze, “One last chance. One chance and then I’m putting myself out of my misery”
That’s so easily said. The unspoken truth is that my poor heart doesn’t stand a chance. It hasn’t for a long time.
“Great!” Nat smiles, squeezing me into a side hug on the bed, “I’ll start planning your outfit now!”
And with that, she’s off my bed and into my closet. As we spend the better part of the night deciding on what to wear to the upcoming gala, I can’t help but let my mind stray to its usual focus. With a groan of exhaustion, I drop my head into my hands and tell myself that same lie.
“He’s my best friend. That’s all.”
It’s getting harder and harder to believe.
|||
A few days later
It's been a few days since the rain incident, and I've finally managed to garner a moment alone from everyone. It's not that I don't love being around them, but it taxes me more than I care to admit to be around him.
A forlorn sigh brushes past my lips, but as I nestle down on the floor in the library Tony had put into the Compound, I find my worries drifting away. Instead, they're replaced with the story in the pages, rapturing my attention and distracting my mind.
That is, until the door opens and I feel his presence before I see or hear him.
"There you are, doll. I've been looking for you all day," Bucky calls, his deep, smooth voice cascading into my very soul. I shut my eyes for a moment, trying desperately to not let it show on my face how jarring it was to be snapped from the book to the person I've been trying to avoid.
"You've been looking for me?" I ask, managing to make my voice seem calm and pleasant. He approaches where I'm sitting on the floor, a breath-stealing smile tugging at his lips.
"Course I have, I haven't seen you in days," He replies, his face the picture of relaxed calm, drawing a fierce dichotomy to the barely-veiled confliction on my own. Bucky takes a moment, surveying me sitting on the floor amidst all of the chairs and couches available. He lifts an amused brow at me.
"Why are you on the floor?"
I can't stop myself from smiling up at him and all control I had in keeping myself away from him disintegrates, "It's more comfortable to me. Are you judging me Barnes?"
His laugh bursts light into the depths of me, and as I watch his face relax I can't help but look on in awe at how far he's come. When he first joined the team, he was withdrawn and quiet and even grumpier than he is now. He never smiled, never laughed, and barely spoke. Now, of course he's adorably grumpy most of the time, but he smiles and laughs. He enjoys life, and he more than anyone else in this world deserves to enjoy life.
"What're you reading?" Bucky asks, and I try to ignore the way my pulse rockets up when he settles down beside me on the floor.
He stretches out his long legs, keeping the one furthest from me bent and resting his arm on top it. His other leg is stretched out and nearly touching my own. To help balance his weight, he settles the hand closest to me, his metal hand, onto a spot on the floor behind my back. The position makes his chest brush against my shoulder ever so slightly and all I can feel is the burning of his presence and the searing of his gaze.
"Just some fantasy book," I reply, not wanting to bore him.
I look over at him to see his eyes already on my face, his own radiating a serene peace. He furrows his brows at my prolonged examination of his features and the ghost of a smile twitches at the corner of his lips, "What is it?"
"Nothing, it's just," My mouth has gone dry again, and I can't seem to clear the haze on my mind, "You look at peace."
"Well someone pretty incredible suggested rain therapy, which works like a charm for my grumpiness."
A laugh bubbles out of me, only widening the smile on his face. I find myself subconsciously leaning into his presence and bringing our faces closer.
"Seriously," Bucky continues, making me realize our proximity and pull back to a normal distance, "I'm always at peace around you."
My heart doesn't just miss a step, it stumbles and falls and nearly gives out in my chest. His words affect every part of me and it's a feat of pure resilience that I don't reach over and press my lips to his.
"Unless you're doing something stupid and testing my nerves," He adds on, lightening the air and making me giggle. He nods towards the almost forgotten book in my hands.
"You were going to tell me about your new read," Bucky reminds, and I smile.
I spend the next ten minutes detailing what's happening in the book, my excitement about it taking over and making me ramble on without barely taking any breaths. I occasionally look between the book and Bucky, sometimes gesturing with my hands to establish my enthusiasm.
Even when I'm not looking at him, Bucky's gaze never leaves my face.
So much for giving myself space to try and move on from him. That thought is far from my mind, though. The longer I’m near him, the closer he is, the harder it is to remember to forget him. And now, with Tony’s Gala tomorrow night, I don’t know how I’m going to move on.
Maybe I really can give this one last shot. It could break me if it goes wrong, but I have a feeling I’ll break a little regardless.
|||
The next night
Not even the pounding of the music and the chatter and clatter of hundreds of guests can drown out my racing mind.
“Stop tugging at your dress, you look great,” Natasha chides from beside me.
With a huff of anxiety, I heed her words and stop fiddling with the snug material of the one-sleeved dress. It hugs my curves down to my waist before draping elegantly to the floor, broken only by the high slit up the thigh.
“I know,” I reply, downing my second drink of the night and setting down the empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter with a brief smile, “I just haven’t seen him yet. He’s coming right? Tony told us all to be here, so he wouldn’t just-”
“Why does there have to be so many people here?”
My words die out at the distant but unmissable rumble of words behind me. I turn around, and my entire world seems to focus on the epicenter that is Bucky Barnes as he walks in beside Sam Wilson.
“It’s a party man, I thought you loved parties back in the day,” Sam replies, smiling at a few people as he walks in.
“Yeah well I don’t like people like I did then,” Bucky grumbles back, messing with the edges of his all-black suit that is tailored so perfectly that it hones every inch of his body.
His broad shoulders, his muscular form, his piercing blue eyes in a fierce dichotomy with the darkness of the getup…I almost trip in my heels.
“You don’t like any people? That breaks my heart, Barnes,” I manage out coolly, walking up to the pair with a half-smile tugging on my lips and my heart dancing with the butterflies within.
Bucky’s gaze turns from the party goers to where I walk up to them, and a part of me melts at the way a light filters into his features. His dashing smile makes my own grow before I can stop it. The way he simply stops for a moment and stares at me, as if the throngs of people around us don’t exist…
It’s more than an effort to shove my poor heart into its shackles.
“I guess you’re an exception, doll,” He amends, and Sam rolls his eyes beside Bucky as they stop before me.
“It’s not like I’m right here,” Sam announces, making me giggle slightly and look to him.
“Hey Sam, good to see you,” I greet, walking over and hugging the man. He hugs me back, smiling brightly.
“Good to see you too,” Sam responds, his eyes catching on something over my shoulder, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe there are some fans who need me.”
I laugh as I watch him walk over and greet a group of women by the bar. When I turn back to Bucky, I shove down my nerves and shake my head as I pull him into a hug.
“You look incredible, Buck,” I announce, trying to ignore the rightness of his body against mine as he pulls me into a hug that lasts a moment more than I should have let it.
“Y/N,” he deadpans, pulling back but leaving his arms on my waist to admire me. His eyes sparkle with something akin to awe that makes hope rise in my chest, “You put me and everyone else in this room to shame.”
“You obviously haven’t looked in a mirror,” I remark, desperately trying to not show all over my face how beautiful he is.
Bucky just smiles. He looks at me and he smiles and I am undone.
My eyes catch on Natasha over Bucky’s shoulder as she mingles in the background of the party. When our gazes meet she gestures to Bucky with a hand, mounting the words ‘Come on’ as she does. Nodding back to her, I remember the conversation we had a few days ago and right before we joined the gala. I have to be bold and make a move, take a chance before I lose the ability to do so.
“So,” I turn back to Bucky, smiling knowingly up at him, “How’re you doing with the whole party thing?”
Bucky takes in a breath, nodding his head slightly as he surveys the party scene around us. Drinks are flowing, laughs rising, and music is permeating through every sector of the Avengers Compound. The floor shakes with the base and the clattering of shoes as he looks back to me, “Oh you know, just fantastic.”
“Is that so?” I taunt, almost laughing at the dripping sarcasm in his voice. He shoots me a grumpy glare that finally unleashes my laugh. At the sound, Bucky’s features soften and a smile touches his lips. I notice this and furrow my brows up at him.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Bucky whispers, just holding that’s soft smile in his eyes that makes me almost forget the track of the conversation. When I snap myself from my daze, I gasp.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” I exclaim, holding my clutch up and opening it to find what I stashed earlier, “I know how you are with parties like this and all so I thought that this might help make it a better memory.”
“You got me a gift?” Bucky asks, shaking his head at me with furrowed brows, “You should have told me, I would’ve gotten you something too!”
I shake my head, finally finding what I’m looking for and glancing up at Bucky, “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”
With a bright smile to cover my pounding, anxious heart, I hold out the small book in my hands. Bucky glances down at the gift I hold out, and I watch his body go still. Anticipation dances in my belly as he ever so gently reaches out and takes the old, fading The Hobbit novel into his hands.
“It’s a first edition, don’t ask me how I found it,” I inform, playing with the fabric of my dress to give my now empty hands something to do, “I know how much you loved it and now when you’re watching me read in the library, you can read too.”
My words ring out between us, and yet Bucky barely moves. Just when I’m beginning to grow nervous, my heart melts into a puddle in my chest when he lifts his steel-eyed gaze to me. I’ve never seen him cry before, but here and now I can see the lining of unshed tears in his gaze.
“Buck-"
He closes the distance between us, pulling me so close to him that there’s no room for separation. I melt into the hug, becoming nothing more than an extension of his body. There’s no him. There’s no me. There’s only us as we’re suspended in time, caught in this moment.
“Thank you, Y/N,” he mumbles, not moving back an inch and letting his voice cascade over my neck and down my spine, “You don’t know what this means to me.”
Reluctantly, I pull back. Every part of me shouts in protest, but I know we have to separate as some point. I give him a soft smile, trying to ignore the noose that’s slowly tightening around my heart. I’m a goner. I have no chance of recovery.
“Don’t mention it,”
Bucky stares at me for another moment, the charged silence soon taking on an anticipated feel. We’re both waiting for the other to make the first move, I can sense it. I see Nat nudge me from afar again and decide to finally muster up my courage and stop waiting. I notice Bucky shakes his head at something, mumbling something to himself, but I press on.
“Hey, do you wanna da-”
“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Bucky bursts out at almost the same instant, making me cut off my sentence quickly.
A drink? He’s going to get a drink right now, as soon as I was about to ask him to dance? I know he didn’t mean it as a rejection, but it still stings like one.
“Oh, uh yeah sure. That’s-”
Before I can even finish speaking, Bucky has darted away desperately towards the bar at the North side of the room near Sam. I stand dumbfounded, my heart slowly sinking. This is going to be much harder than I thought.
|||
It's been nearly an hour and a half and Bucky is still managing to be everywhere that I am not.
I can take a hint. Even if that hint shatters my soul a little.
As I watch the super soldier mingle with some of the guests, a polite and slightly annoyed smile on his face, I feel something snap within my chest. Here I am, lounging pathetically at the bar all alone, and there he is, my best friend who I can't seem to fall out of love with. His strong jaw and steel eyes don't dare to turn in my direction, and I feel my fracturing soul crack even more.
I have to let it go. I have to let it go. I have to let him go.
With a long sigh, I pick up the drink before me and down its contents, letting the burn soothe away the edge of the crawling pain in my chest. Once the glass is slammed back down on the bar counter, I steel my nerves and stand.
It's time I stop feeling sorry for myself and move on.
My eyes scan the thick crowd scattered throughout every inch of Tony's gala. Music radiates through every molecule of air, and just one glance at the dance floor has my feet moving before my brain is. As I walk over to the dance floor, I see a random guy standing with a few others. He's cute enough with a charming smile, so I grab his arm as I walk past, making him glance over at me. I flash him my best smile and tug him towards the dance floor.
"Dance with me?" I ask boldly, and his smile widens.
"I'd be honored," He replies, letting me pull him onto the dance floor.
I should let myself be whisked away into the music and the movements and the feel of his hands on my hips as we dance. I should let the base and the crowd and the charming man before me wipe away every thought, but I just...can't. All I can think about when his hands slide gently on my waist is how different it feels when those hands are Bucky's. My heart is crushing slowly, and so I do everything I can to forget it.
It's actually beginning to work until the music abruptly cuts out.
Groans and boo's arise from the crowd with me on the dance floor as we all look around, trying to figure out why the music's stopped. "That's so weird," The nice guy I'm dancing with mumbles. I mention my agreement, my eyes sweeping the edges of the party before I catch a glint of dark metal. My eyes fly back to the metal only to see Bucky storming away from the sound booth, his metal fist clenched so hard that I'm surprised it doesn't malfunction. In his metal grasp is a hunk of wires, and my stomach drops.
He did not.
"Don't worry folks! I'll have the music back up in no time," Tony announces, flashing his winning smile to the crowd as he jogs to the sound booth, "There was a slight malfunction"
I see him shoot Bucky a glare, but true to his words the music is back up in a matter of minutes. I feel anger begin to make my blood boil and I pull away from the guy I was dancing with. I see a frown pull onto his face as he lets me go but follows me a few steps.
"Are you okay?" He calls after me, and my heart twists in sympathy. I must look absolutely furious and he probably thinks it's pointed at him. So, I do my best to give him a sympathetic smile.
"I'm alright, thanks for the dance. I needed it," I comment, before turning and continuing my beeline for the brooding super soldier in the corner. He's standing with Sam, muttering something that I can't hear as I finally break through the crowd and walk up to them.
"Here we go," Sam mumbles, slowly backing away as I come to a stop in front of Bucky.
"What the hell, James?" I grit out.
"Oh she used the first name," Sam comments, his eyes widening, "I'm going to go check on Steve."
Then he leaves, and it's just Bucky and I. Bucky just shrugs, not meeting my furious gaze.
"I don't know what you're so mad about but-"
"Oh really? So you didn't just rip out the sound system?" I accuse, crossing my arms over my chest. He finally turns and meets my gaze, and damn it all I can't stop the swooning of my heart at the dark, rugged look on his face.
I'm angry, I remind myself. I'm angry with him.
"What does that have to do with you, sweetheart?"
I scoff, shaking my head at him, "You are unbelievable! I was finally starting to have a good night and-"
"Dancing with that handsy prick makes your night a good night then?" He interrupts, and I have to fight to keep the smug look off of my face at catching him.
"What were you saying about this having nothing to do with me?" I fire back, lifting an eyebrow. Bucky clenches his jaw and takes a step closer to me, probably expecting me to back off. I don't. Instead, I tilt my head up to meet his gaze, trying and failing to seem taller than him.
"I don't like you dancing with other men like that," Bucky informs, his voice dark. He's so close to me that his whiskey and pine scent invades my senses, threatening to empty my head of the argument at hand.
"I can dance with whoever the hell I want, Barnes. And since certain people made it very clear they didn't want to dance with me, then certain people should have no say in who I dance with"
"I don't dance, Y/N." His eyes are cool fire and they sear right through me. Even in this heated argument, all I can seem to think about is how badly I want him, body and soul. My thoughts are banished when he spits his next words out, "Not with you, not with anyone."
It shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't. So why do I have to fight to keep the hurt off of my face?
Just like that, the fire in my argument is gone. I nod, taking a few steps back, "Okay, that's all you had to say."
And then I turn around and leave before he can see the tears welling in my gaze.
I force myself into the crowd, making sure I move quickly and weave myself between those around me to get away as fast as possible. Then, with my heart in my throat, I finally make it to the outskirts of the party where a glass sliding door leads out into a training field. Through the glass, I can see rain pouring down into the dark, almost moonless night.
Seeing it unravels a bit of the pain within my chest, and I don't even think as I slip off my heels and walk outside. I shut the door behind me, muting the sounds of the party and leaving the downpour of rain and the distant rumble of thunder to take over my senses. I set my heels down carefully and walk out into the field, barely jumping when the cool, refreshing droplets begin to pound into my skin. It's not long before I'm soaked and my entire outfit is ruined. I don't mind, though. I'm not planning on going back there anyways.
I sit down in the grass, not even minding how it dirties my dress, and hug my knees close. When I slip my eyes shut, I'm reminded why I love the rain so much.
In moments like this, I can't distinguish my tears from the rain
I don't know how long I sit like this, my eyes shut and the rain drenching me. Eventually, my body stops shaking from the sobs that have now subsided and any evidence of my breakdown has been washed away. I'm almost at peace when I hear that voice, that stupid, addicting voice, ring out behind me through the storm.
"I'd say you'll catch a cold, but I don't think you'd care much"
I swallow hard, cursing my heart for the way it jumps. I open my eyes, but keep my gaze firmly forward across the training field.
"Especially since it's coming from you," I add on, grateful for the lack of tremor in my words.
"I guess I deserved that one," Bucky concedes softly, his voice getting closer. My body begins to shiver with the anticipation of him being close, the response purely visceral and out of my control. I just hope he thinks it's from the rain.
"You think?" I scoff lightly, not having the strength to be angry anymore.
It's silent for a long while, and I almost begin to think that he's left and gone back inside. I'm proven otherwise when I see Bucky walk out from behind me, standing right in front of where I sit with my knees drawn to my chest. Against my better judgement, I look up.
And there he is, drenched like I am and an unreadable look upon his stupidly handsome face.
"Bucky-"
He extends out his human hand, and my words die, "Dance with me."
Every part of my heart beams, and it’s an effort to keep the fluttering of my heart out of my body language. I pause for a moment, almost as if to give him time to retract his hand. When he doesn’t, I hesitantly meet his gaze.
“I thought you didn’t dance,” I whisper. His half-smile grows as he looks down at me with what almost looks like…adoration.
“I don’t,” Bucky confirms, his voice like sugar and pine, “But for you I’d do anything”
I can’t even try to hide the visceral effect his words have on me. With a thousand butterflies batting in my stomach and my heart beating viscously out of rhythm, I allow a small smile to grow on my lips. A new excitement in my chest, I reach up and slip my hand into his large, rough one calloused with work and time. It fits mine perfectly, as always, and his touch muddles my senses and wakes me up all at once, as always.
As he helps me stand, the rain still pouring down on us, he tugs me close to him so suddenly that I stumble right into his chest. A small laugh escapes my lips as I catch myself on his broad chest. Bucky’s so close, so warm, so intoxicating to me that every fiber of my being yearns for his proximity. I’m nothing but a firing hum of nerves and sparks being this close to him, with a hand on his chest and his arm secured around my waist.
And we dance.
There’s no music, there’s no reason. We just dance. Bucky’s magnificent at it, every step dripping in ease and cool confidence that only makes me love him more. I’m so caught in the moment that every thought of a reciprocated or unrequited love has been banished from my mind. All that exists is here and now, underneath the downpour of the heavens with the cacophony of nature as our song.
He twirls me around, making water splash up and a giggle bubble out of me when I slip and fall directly into him. His body rumbles with low laughter when he catches me stopping my fall. Bucky doesn’t even have to say a word for me to know he’s making fun of me, so I slap his chest with a huff of laughter.
“What?” Bucky’s amused voice is the harmony to the melody of the rain.
“I can feel your judgement from here,” I point out, but before I can raise my lightened gaze to meet his on my own, a metal hand hooks under my chin and gently turns my face up until our eyes clash.
Suddenly, I’m not so humored anymore.
Neither is he, I can tell. The air is different—still light with joy but now corded with something deep, rich, and intangible. His piercing blue eyes seem to be burdened with a million different thoughts, but I can barely bring myself to breathe let alone ask him what is going through his beautiful mind.
Bucky doesn’t say a single word, though. He doesn’t have to. My eyes glance down to his lips for no more than one half of a second, and by the time I’ve returned my gaze to his, he’s closing to distance between us and connecting his lips to mine.
I’ve never understood what is so special about kissing in the rain. I get it now. There’s something so dichotomously beautiful in this moment, in the cold, relentless rain and the desperate, burning heat of Bucky’s lips moving against my own.
Again, no words are needed for us both to understand. This kiss is everything that has been bottling up over our friendship. It’s every quiet moment in the library and loud moment in our arguments. As his hands tug me closer and ignite my skin as if it were burning clean off, as his lips and tongue move with mine, every thought and worry and tear-filled, longing night washes away. The very thought makes me sigh into the kiss, and finally we break apart only for the need for air.
Bucky doesn’t let me pull away an inch.
His arms keep my locked close, his forehead against mine as we both catch our breath. He nudged my nose with his before pulling away only enough to meet my gaze. One hand of his cradles my jaw, his thumb running lazy circles on my cheek.
“Does this mean you like me?” I whisper, a humored glint already lighting my gaze. Bucky laughs roughly, his voice sending shivers down my spine that don't go unnoticed. Rather, the other hand he keeps on my waist lifts to absently trace the path of the shiver, almost making my knees go weak.
“I more than like you,” Bucky quips, a content smile taking over his features. My heart misses a step and I don’t dare to dream.
“You really like me?” I taunt, and another heart-warming laugh pours from those perfect lips.
“You’re gonna make me say it, doll?”
I swallow thickly, my eyes not leaving his. I don’t dare to say another word, leaving the challenge up to him. Bucky sighs, moving the hand he keeps on my spine to cradle the other side of my face, now cupping it in his full grasp. He presses a long, gentle kiss to my lips before pulling back enough to where his lips still graze mine as he speaks.
“I love you, Y/N. Always have. Always will.”
My knees nearly go weak, and suddenly I'm so very grateful for the rain's ability to hide what is a drop and what is a tear. I'd never hear the end of it from him if he knew that's what his confession brought me to. When one of thumbs catches a stray tear, though, I know he's fully aware.
"I love you too, Buck."
Bucky smirks before me, bringing his mouth close to my ear and sending another shiver racing down my spine, "I figured that much out, sweetheart"
"Oh whatever!" I announce, hitting his shoulder but leaning in closer to his mouth that now trails from my jaw back to my lips. He presses a sweet kiss to my lips before holding me close to his chest and looking up into the sky that downpours upon us.
"Rain therapy, I guess it really does work," Bucky remarks.
"I would say I told you so, but-" I'm cut off by Bucky suddenly grabbing me by the waist and throwing me over his shoulder.
"What was that?" Bucky calls up to me, spinning me slightly and only making me giggle louder.
"Bucky, I'm in a dress!" I protest. He slaps my ass smugly and begins to walk with me still over his shoulder back to the compound.
"I know, let's get you out of that"
As my laugh tumbles out of my mouth, it twirls and dances and gets lost with the pounding of the rain and the rolling of the thunder. Once again, I'm in the debt of the rain, and I can't help but smile at it gratefully as my best friend and the love of my life walks triumphantly with me over his shoulder into the midst of Tony's nice party. Neither of us care about the looks we receive, though. Neither of us even notices.
All we see is the rain and each other.
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sarahowritesostucky · 2 months
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Sexuality Profile: Bucky
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Mature Content below the break. Consume Responsibly.
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Bucky Barnes is the biggest sweetheart, not only of your five daddies, but of ALL the clients you ever had in the past.
Your other daddies all assume positions of dominance and power, whereas Bucky is largely submissive.
But more so than submissive, you think of him as needy. He needs a lot of tender affection, reassurance, and care.
Bucky's one of those guys who goes to his sex worker in lieu of therapy. He's been through a ton of trauma and needs the comfort and safety you offer.
He's the shyest and most guarded of all your guys, it took a long time to get him to open up to you.
He has a massive service kink.
He brings you fresh flowers every. single. time. he visits you.
When he visits you, you always have him kneel and offer up whatever guns and knives he's carrying to you. It's more an act of trust and submission than it is about true safety.
He calls you "Doll," "Sugar," and "malyshka."
When he's feeling very submissive he'll call you "ma'am," and when he's even more submissive and open, he'll call you "mommy"
He can tend to regress during sex, though you'll never bring it up because you know he would balk at being told he exhibits any sort of "little" behavior.
You call him James more often than you call him Bucky.
Of all your guys, he makes the sweetest whimpers, whines, keens and mewls. It's equal parts sexy and adorable.
He was forcibly castrated during his time with Hydra, and has no scrotum or testicles, just a slightly looser bit of skin where they were.
He is extremely self-conscious about this.
When you first met him, he was impotent and only hired you to snuggle and have non-sexual intimacy.
Once you found out what the problem was, you told him about testosterone replacement patches. He was so happy, he cried.
He's been the most vulnerable with you out of all five guys, and as a result you feel the most tender towards him.
He first hired you right after his friend Steve left him. He was in a very bad place, at the time.
You play with his hair a lot.
He likes to have his arm off during sex. It's almost like a kink or ritual, for you to specifically take it off of him.
He's the only one of your guys who is uncut. And you love it. P in V sex with him feels better than with any of your other guys.
Bucky cares much more about your orgasm than his. He likes being told that he's making you feel good and that he's being a good boy.
He's often very desperate, needy, and flustered during sex, just whining and humping you like a puppy.
You give him a lot of oil massages, both for his back from how much the arm pulls on his muscles, and prostate massages.
Because of the serum, he's capable of having multiple orgasms with almost no refractory period. You love edging him until he's trembling and begging.
Lloyd and Kemp don't mind a finger during blowjobs, but Bucky really loves anal play. Pegging is something you two do fairly regularly.
And his one fantasy that he hasn't yet confided/fulfilled? Having you say his trigger words and controlling him but not hurting him at all, just taking care of him (He's already been "deprogrammed," he just imagines that as the ultimate level of vulnerability and intimacy with you).
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If there's something you want to know about Sugar Baby and any of her five daddies, feel free to shoot me an ask!
Five Daddies Imagines Masterlist
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scoonsalicious · 1 month
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Unwanted: Chapter 3, Unbidden - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, minor discussions of sex, drunk!Bucky, minor violence, FloRida's Low (that song slaps, okay?), minor anti-Winter Soldier sentiment, an unnecessary Ted Bundy reference just because. As always, let me know if I missed anything!
Word Count: 4.1k
Previously On...: You and Bucky had a heart-to-heart after you came back from your mission with Steve, and Bucky asked a very interesting question about the nature of your relationship with the Star Spangled Man.
A/N: I just finished writing Chapter 9 ahead of schedule, so here is Chapter 3 a little bit earlier than I planned on posting it! Consider it in honor of Sergeant Barnes' 107th Birthday! This is my favorite chapter; I had so much fun writing it, this part in particular (even though it took me a million tries before I got it to where I wanted it). Sam is finally given some page time, and I adore him, so I hope I've captured his essence sufficiently. I sort of love writing drunk!Bucky. Part three is where things are going to take an interesting turn for Bucky and Pocket so I'm looking forward to posting that soon!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917
Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)  @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @jmeelee @cazellen
Slapping your American Express Black Card onto the polished mahogany bar, you made sure the bartender was giving you his full attention. "Everything my group orders tonight goes on my tab, got it?" you told him. "If Tony Stark tries to pay for a single thing, tell him it's already covered and if he has a problem with it, he can take it up with me." The bartender nodded, taking your card and depositing it with the other open tabs behind the bar. It was going to be a very lucrative night for the bar.
You'd all come to Gino's, a downtown dive of place you all loved, to celebrate Bucky's clearance for missions. As a part of his presidential pardon for the Winter Soldier's crimes (completely unnecessary, in your opinion, because Bucky hadn’t been the one to commit them), he had been required to undertake 12 months of court-mandated therapy, and now that he had ten months under his belt, his therapist had signed her approval for Bucky to engage in real Avenger work, provided he was accompanied by another member of the team at all times for supervision. He'd be leaving tomorrow for a classified location with Steve and Sam; they'd be gone for about a week, so you'd wanted to commemorate the event and leave him with some positive memories before he left.
You rejoined your group in the far back, where you'd commandeered the largest corner booth and the surrounding tables. "Tonight's on me," you declared as you approached, "so drink up and eat well." Your friends cheered their thanks; Thor even banged his giant fist against the table in appreciation. You did a mock curtsey before coming to stand behind Bucky where he sat, draping your arms around his neck and shoulders and bringing your head down alongside his.
"Having a good time?" you asked him.
Bucky let out a soft chuckle, leaning back into your touch. "With you by my side? Always," he replied, his voice laced with affection. "But you didn't have to do this, doll. Pay for everything, I mean. We could have all gotten our own."
Letting go of his shoulders, you moved around to sit next to him. "Bullshit. My best friend is going on his first Avengers mission, this is the least I can do."
"Listen, man," said Sam Wilson, also known as The Falcon and, if you were being completely honest, one of your favorite teammates after Bucky, "I know things might have been different when you were younger, but in the 21st Century, when a lady offers to buy you drinks, the polite thing to do is just say 'thank you' and get hammered."
Bucky laughed and chugged down the beer he'd been previously nursing and took the bourbon you'd brought over for him from the bar. "Thank you, Pocket. Though, I don't think I'll be getting... hammered on anything here."
"You're most welcome, Buck," you said, patting his cheek, the stubble tickling at your palm. "But if you are looking to get hammered, I believe our resident God of Thunder has brought a little something extra you could sip on in between beers." You nodded your head toward Thor, who sat a few seats down, pouring a splash of Asgardian something from a flask into Steve's tumbler.
Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so? Maybe I'll take him up on that." The super soldier got up and, squeezing your hand, made his way over to Thor, who gladly poured a generous splash of spirits into Bucky's glass of bourbon.
You watched him for a moment as he sat and drank with Steve and Thor, a warm feeling building in your chest at the sight of him looking and doing so well. He'd made so much progress since he first arrived at the Tower and you were unbelievably proud of him.
"You've been good for him, Pocket," Sam offered with a raise of his glass. "But I gotta know, when are you two gonna stop tip-toeing around each other and make things official?"
You let out an agonized groan. "Not you, too, Sam. Why don't you and Natty get together and write some fanfic about it? That's about as close to reality as it'll get."
"What are Wilson and I collaborating to write smutty fanfiction about?" Natasha asked as she sat down in Bucky's vacated seat, passing you a shot glass.
"Za nashu druzhbu!" You toasted in unison before downing the sweet liquid. To our friendship!
"A Redheaded Slut shot? How very Natasha," you teased.
"Don't try to change the subject," Sam interjected. "Romanoff: (Y/L/N) and Barnes. They go together like Netflix and chill or what?"
Natasha's eyes lit up. "Absolutely! Oh my God; I'm so glad you see it, too. They're just screaming 'Let's fuck already,' right?!"
"I don't know that they haven't started already," Sam said, obviously pleased to finally have someone to talk about this with. "I've never seen Metalhead as content as when he's with Pocket. Figure she's gotta be doing something to keep a smile on his face, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows, setting Natasha off into a barking laugh.
"Jesus Christ, Sam!" you sputtered. "I'm sitting right fucking here!"
Sam gave you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Baby Girl. 'M just calling it like I see it. And with you and Barnes, I see it."
"She's going to stick to the story that nothing's going on between them," Nat began.
"Because there is nothing going on between us," you interrupted.
"But I think we all know something is brewing between those two," she continued, as if you hadn't said a thing. "I mean, do you really think they're just sleeping in the same bed every night?"
"Hold up, hold up." Sam raised his hand to stop Nat. "You're telling me those two share a bed? How long has this been going on and why am I just hearing about it now?"
"Oh my god," you said, putting your head in your hands and wishing the floor would open up and suck you into a hell dimension. It had to be better than sitting here listening to the two of them talk as if weren't in the room.
"You didn't know?!" Nat's expression was incredulous. "Essentially since the moment Barnes moved into the Tower. They alternate whose bed they sleep in, but it's literally every. single. night."
"That's it," you murmured, though you were sure they weren't paying you any attention, "I am never telling you another thing, ever, Natalia." They weren't embarrassing you, per se. You felt no shame about your closeness with Bucky. It was more that you hated that they were making assumptions about him. You could take ones made about you; you'd been doing that your entire life, but Bucky was different. He was... fragile wasn't the right word, but it came close. You wanted to protect him from everything negative, including your friends gossiping about his alleged sex life.
"Guys, please," you said, loud enough to catch their attention. "I know that, whatever I say, it's not going to convince you that I'm telling you the truth, but I don't want Bucky to hear it, okay? You're just going to make him uncomfortable and he'll retreat into himself, close up. So, save it for when you're by yourselves, alright?"
The sincerity in your words caused Sam and Nat's gazes to soften as they looked at you. You hoped that, despite their ribbing, they understood that your concern for your shared friend was genuine, and that, of the three of you sitting at the table, you knew Bucky best.
"Alright," said Sam, "I'll drop it. For now. But know I've got my eye on you, Pocket." He gave you a shrewd look. "Don't think you can keep your secret from Ole Sammy forever."
You shook your head, annoyingly amused.
The evening moved on pleasantly: conversation and alcohol flowed, and you felt yourself loosening up as the shots you'd drank with Natasha worked their way through your system until you were sporting a pleasant buzz. Bucky eventually came back to join you at your table, eyes glassy and with a giant, dopey grin plastered across his face.
"How's that Asgardian liquor treating you, Buckaroo?" you asked him with a grin of your own, knowing full well he was sauced.
"'s real good, Pocket," he slurred, propping his head on his fist and gazing at you with a dreamy expression. "'s nice and tingly, like the sun is shining on my insides."
"I'm happy for you, Buck," you said with a laugh, shooting an amused glance over Bucky's head to Nat, who responded with a smirk of her own. "That's real good."
He put his arms around you and pulled you into him, almost tugging you off of your chair in the process. "No! You're real good. Sho good to me, all warm and fuzzy and pretty. Just wanna keep touchin' you, you know? 'Cause you make me think of happy things." He paused to nuzzle his face into your hair. "You're m'favorite person."
"You're my favorite person, too, Buck," you said, stifling a giggle, amused by this new soft, silly side of him.
"Me?" he squeaked--actually squeaked. You nodded and then let out a surprised squeal as he pulled you into his lap, holding you almost tight enough to be uncomfortable, his metal arm clinging you to his chest. But then he pulled his head back to look you in the eye, his face suddenly serious.
He slurred, leaning in closer. You could smell the sweet scent of the Asgardian liquor on his breath. "Don'tcha dare tell Stevie, though, doll" he hiccupped, "'cause he'd be real put out if he found out I was your fav'rite."
"Well, then we won't tell him," you assured him, casting a bewildered glance to Nat. She subtly shook her head, as if to say she was just as confused as you as to why Steve would care if Bucky was your favorite person.
Bucky nodded solemnly. "Good. Don't want 'im feelin' bad, but 'm not sorry. 'S not my fault, either. He had ages and he didn't do nuthin'. That's on 'im. Not on me, not on you. On 'im." He began petting your hair in long strokes, seemingly distracted by the feel of it and losing his original train of thought. "Mmmm, you're so pretty. M'pretty little Pocket."
"Why, thank you, my handsome soldier," you replied, tapping him playfully on the nose while wondering what the hell he had been going on about concerning Steve. You hoped he wasn't so drunk that he didn't remember this conversation in the morning, because you were going to press the shit out of him for details.
Oh, but then... the next song from the jukebox caught your attention, and you looked up as the opening bars of Flo Rida's Low filled the air.
"Oh no," moaned Nat with a trace of laughter. "You're gonna dance, aren't you?"
A broad grin broke across your face. You loved dancing to anything, but this song was your kryptonite. "I can't help it," you told her, "it calls me, I come. Let's go!" You stood up, taking Bucky's hand and trying to pull him along with you, but the super soldier just shook his head and refused to move. Apparently he wasn't that drunk. "Fine. Sam, Nat, dance with me."
"I'm coming, Baby Girl," Sam said, taking Nat's hand and dragging her to meet you.
As soon as you had the space, you began to move, the music pulsing through your veins, syncing perfectly with your heartbeat. You swayed your hips in time with the infectious rhythm, your body moving effortlessly to the beat.
You felt Sam come up behind you, placing his hands on your hips as he began to dance with you, bass thumping in your chests. You and Sam had danced together countless times before; he was one of the only ones in the Tower who enjoyed dancing as much as you did, so the two of you had had plenty of practice moving together. Your movements may have been completely innocent, but they gave the appearance of something much more intimate-- it was just the nature of the dance. You could feel the heat of Sam's body pressed against your back, the way his hands gripped your hips protectively. It was all in good fun, a playful dance between friends, until you felt Sam's hands fly from your waist as you were about to get low.
You spun around, finding Bucky standing where Sam had been just a few seconds before, Sam now several feet away, anger wearing heavy on his face.
"What the hell, man?" Sam barked at Bucky. "What'd you shove me for?"
Bucky, his face flushed and eyes narrowed with a combination of intoxication and something dark, took a step towards Sam. "Didn't shove ya, Wilson," he slurred, his words blending together. "Ya just...got in the way."
"Got in the way? Man, we were just dancing. How was I in your way?"
Bucky's jaw clenched, his metal arm flexing by his side. The atmosphere shifted, thick with tension, as if the air in the room had suddenly turned molasses-slow.
"Okay, boys." You stepped between them, hands down and palms open, trying to create as much distance between the two as possible. The last thing you wanted was a drunken argument devolving into some kind of brawl. "It's getting late, and we've all had a good amount to drink." You gave Sam a pointed glance. "Bucky, will you take me home to the Tower? I'm pretty tired and I think I'm ready to call it a night."
Sam nodded in understanding-- it would be a hell of a lot easier to get Bucky home in his current state if he thought he was escorting you, instead of the other way around.
"Yeah, 'course, Pocket," Bucky said, his eyes softening as he looked at you. You were able to call out your goodnights to the rest of the team and, leaving instructions with Nat to close out your tab at the end of the night, began making your way to the door. Bucky stumbled a bit, his balance compromised by the alcohol in his system. You wrapped an arm around him, steadying him as you both made your way outside.
Outside the bar, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the noisy atmosphere inside. Bucky leaned heavily against you, his arm draped around your shoulders for support.
"Fuck, Barnes. You're heavy," you groaned under his weight.
"Fuck me, Pocket," he slurred, head tilting to the side. There was that look in his eyes again. The same one you'd seen the day he'd gotten his new arm. You couldn't identify it, but it made the hair on your arms stand up straight.
"Yeah, that's exactly what I said." You could feel his warmth seeping through your clothes, his presence comforting even in his intoxicated state.
"You good to stand on your own for a second, soldier?" you asked him. "I need to hail us a cab."
Bucky nodded and you carefully eased yourself out from under his arm, scanning the street for a taxi. The bustling city night was alive with lights and sounds, creating a tapestry of urban energy that seemed to match the frequency of the electricity that ran through your brain.
God, did you love this city.
As you raised your hand to flag down a cab, you couldn't help but steal glances at Bucky, his hair in disarray, falling into his eyes and his lips slightly parted as he breathed in the cool night air. Even drunk and disheveled, he still looked so handsome. There was a softness to him in the moment that made him look younger, and for a second, you could imagine that beautiful, carefree young man who had been drafted to cross the sea to fight someone else's war, and had paid for it with even more than his life.
A taxi screeched to a stop in front of you, interrupting your reverie. You hurriedly opened the door and helped Bucky inside, sliding in beside him. The cab driver gave you both a curious glance before pulling away from the curb. Once you gave him the address to Avengers Tower, that look got more and more frequent as he kept checking his rear view mirror.
"Hey, eyes on the road, buddy," you snapped at him, probably putting more aggression into your voice than you had intended, but the way the cab driver was looking at the two of you made you uneasy.
The ride back to the Tower was quiet, the low hum of the taxi's engine serving as a backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind. Bucky slumped against you, his head resting on your shoulder as he dozed off. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it against your skin. The city lights blurred past outside the window, casting a hazy glow over both of you.
"Listen," the cabbie eventually began in his thick New Jersey accent, "sweetheart, ya seem like a nice girl, but I don't think ya know what you're dealin' with, here. That man right there's the Winter Soldier. He's a murderer, a nasty one. The kind that likes to take a sweet thing like you and do horrible things."
You rolled your eyes. If they were going to keep telling stories about the Winter Soldier, the least they could do was get the details right instead of making him sound like Ted Fucking Bundy.
"This nasty murderer is my best friend," you said, each word clipped and infused with the anger you felt on Bucky's behalf. "So, maybe you should stick with getting us to our destination instead of trying to lecture me on something you know absolutely nothing about."
The cabbie fell silent, his eyes darting nervously between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. You could tell that he was regretting his decision to say anything, realizing that he had struck a nerve. Or, you thought with an amused chuckle, afraid that you were just as nasty as the Winter Soldier. But you couldn't blame him entirely. The reputation of the Winter Soldier was notorious, and it was only natural for people to be cautious. You just wished they knew the name Bucky Barnes, and the actual man, himself, just as well.
You sighed and shifted your gaze to Bucky, still unconscious against your shoulder. It wasn't fair, you thought, how people judged him solely based on his past. Yes, there were dark chapters in his history, but he had fought tooth and nail to regain control over his life. He had redeemed himself in countless ways even before he had officially joined the Avengers.
As the taxi approached Avengers Tower, you leaned over and gently shook Bucky awake. His eyes fluttered open, confusion etched in his features for a brief moment before recognition set in.
"We're home, Buck," you whispered softly, trying to soothe away any lingering unease from your brief conversation with the cab driver. "Let's get you upstairs." You threw a handful of bills in the cabbie's direction, not even bothering to wait for him to give you your change; you just wanted out of his cab and away from his prejudice.
Bucky nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes. With your help, he stumbled out of the taxi and leaned on you for support as you made your way into the building.
"'m sorry 'bout that, doll," he drawled as you passed the security desk, sending a quick wave to the night guard.
"Sorry for what, Buck?" you asked him. He was silent as you made your way to the elevator bay, waiting until you had pressed the button to summon the elevator car.
"'bout the cabbie." He avoided looking at you while you waited, and it was like a punch to your gut-- he'd heard everything that ignorant man had said. The elevator doors dinged open and you helped usher him inside.
You took a deep breath as you pressed the button for your floor, the retinal scanner making quick work to prove your identity and verify your security clearance. "Buck," you exhaled, "you have nothing to apologize for. That man was an asshole and an idiot."
Bucky leaned back against the elevator wall, his head thumping against the cool metal. "But he was right. I am a nasty murderer."
You could scream. You could strangle that cabbie with your bare hands. Bucky had been doing so well, had been having such a good night, and one person's careless remark had ruined all of it.
"Barnes," you said, turning to face him. "Look at me. Do you think I'm stupid?"
His eyes grew wide at the insinuation, even in his drunk state, he was with it enough to be taken aback by your question. "'bsolutely not, doll. You're the smartest person I know. Smarter than Stark, even, 'cause you can admit when your wrong." The compliment left you trying to hide a smile.
"Okay. Do you trust my judgment?"
"With my life," he breathed. The elevator opened to your floor, and you helped Bucky out into the hall and down the corridor toward his room. The soft glow of the hallway lights illuminated his features, casting a warm, intimate aura around the two of you.
"So, if I'm not stupid and you trust my judgment, trust me when I tell you are not what that man says you are. You are a good man who had too many horrible things happen to him. And despite all those horrible things, you are still the kindest, funniest, most gentle man that I know."
As you reached his door, Bucky turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "Thank you, Pocket. Thank you for taking care of me, and for being my friend," he murmured, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and emotion.
A small smile played on your lips. "Always, Buck," you replied softly. "Now let's get you inside."
With a gentle push, you opened the door to his room and guided him over to his bed. Bucky collapsed onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, his body sinking into the softness beneath him. Once you'd pulled off his boots, you knelt down beside him, tucking the blanket around his shoulders.
As you straightened up, Bucky reached out and grabbed your hand, his grip surprisingly strong despite his intoxicated state. His gaze locked with yours, a mix of vulnerability and longing flickering in his eyes.
"I don't want you to leave," he whispered, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.
"I'm just going to hop over to my room to change into pajamas," you assured him. "I'll be right back. Promise." You smoothed his hair, trying to tame it from where it stood up in all directions.
"'kay," he said through a yawn, "but don't take too long. I got somethin' I need to tell ya. 's important."
"Okay," you told him, planting a kiss on his head. "I'll be just a minute." You hurried across the hall to your own room, changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth in record time.
Re-entering Bucky's room, you were extremely curious as to what he'd wanted to say to you. "Alright, Buckaroo, I'm back. What did you--"
You smiled to yourself. Bucky was fast asleep, light snores emanating from him as he lay sprawled across the bed. You couldn't help but find him adorable in his slumber, especially with his hair sticking up in all directions.
With a soft sigh, you walked over to the side of the bed and gently sat down, watching Bucky's peaceful face. It was moments like these that reminded you of how much he had been through, how much pain and loss he had experienced. Despite his tough exterior, there was a vulnerability about him that tugged at your heartstrings.
You leaned in closer, unable to resist the urge to brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. Your fingers lingered on his skin for a moment longer than necessary, feeling the warmth radiating from him. The desire to protect and comfort him overwhelmed you, making your heart ache with affection, and something else that you couldn't quite identify.
Pulling down the covers, you climbed into bed next to him, snuggling up to his body for warmth. He grunted and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. It wasn't long before you drifted off into a slumber of your own.
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Not A Date
Pairing: Frank Castle x Female Reader
My Masterlist
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Summary: You get stood up on a date and Frank decides that's unacceptable and you deserve to be taken out tonight. Except it's absolutely not a date, he swears, despite the fact it has all the makings of a perfect first date.
Warnings: Just all the fluffy goodness of friends to lovers. Some swearing because this is Frank we're talking about. Mild alcohol use. Author's questionable understanding of billiard rules.
AN: My first time writing Mr. Castle. I have a headcanon that Bucky goes to Curtis' veteran group therapy and I think he and Frank would be friends from that so both of those guys make an appearance. Feedback is always appreciated!
WC: 2151
The three flights of stairs up to your apartment leave you feeling winded even on a good day, but the complimentary glass of wine the waitress provided after feeling sorry for you buzzes through your system and couples with the twinge of disappointment, making the trek up to your home a feat akin to climbing Everest.
You fumble with your keys, but the knob on your front door gives way, no longer locked as you left it an hour before.
“If you’re gonna break and enter, at least lock it behind you,” you shout out, closing the front door behind you.
“Not breaking and entering if you give me a key,” a gruff voice answers back as you hang your now discarded jacket on an overcrowded hook in your entryway.
“A decision which I deeply regret,” you reply, entering the living room to find a familiar large man sprawled out on the sofa.
“Better than me breaking your window locks again …” his response cuts off as you enter the room, giving you a glance up and down. His brow furrows at the sight of you, more overdressed than usual, in front of him.
“What are you all dressed up for?” he asks
“I had a date. And it could have been a disaster if it had gone well and I brought him up here only to find my very intimidating and more-than-occasionally bleeding friend on my couch.” You gesture, taking note of the lack of open wounds on Frank’s body.
Finding Frank in your apartment was not an unusual occurrence, though it was always a surprise which state of distress he’d be in - whether he was dropping in for a friendly visit, or bleeding so profusely you weren’t sure the whole of the Red Cross’ supply could replenish him. Thank god, you didn’t also have to deal with stitching him up tonight.
“Okay. Clearly didn’t go well since you’re alone and it’s only 8:30,” he responds, checking his watch.
“Yeah well, he stood me up so…”
“You’re shitting me.” Frank's lips purse and his signature vacant stare glazes across his eyes.
“Nope,” you sigh, flopping down beside him. Your relationship with him so comfortable that you don’t even register the change in his expression, let alone fear it. You nudge your knee against his, attempting to reclaim some personal space from his massive frame currently dominating your tiny New York apartment. Frank does not yield, too focused on the tale of your love-life’s misfortunes.
“What a shithead. What’s his name?”
“Frank, no.” you say sternly.
“I just want to talk to him.”
“Yeah sure, talk to him.” you give air quotes, “Talk to him with your favorite shotgun.”
“Pfft don’t need a gun to let him know what I think. Fists’ll do just fine.”
“Well if the Punisher is suddenly going after scumbags who stand up women on dates instead of your usual criminals, I’m happy to provide a whole list.” you say dryly
Frank swallows thickly, fingers mindlessly plucking at his jeans as fury begins to grow inside him.
“Really? There’s more than one idiot standin’ someone like you up?” he gestures to how well you’ve cleaned up for the evening, letting his gaze linger on the way your outfit clings to your body.
“Apparently a very good majority of men in this city,” you respond with a shrug, trying not to notice the way his intense stare follows you to the kitchen as you stand again. Your fridge is embarrassingly empty and you mentally curse yourself for not doing any food shopping this week as a small gurgle rises in your stomach.
Frank cracks his knuckles and shakes his head and you swear you hear something similar to “assholes” mumbled under his breath.
“You hungry?” you ask “Cause I didn’t eat anything at the restaurant while I waited for that jerk, and now I’m starving. I’m gonna order something if you want?”
“Nah. Don’t order in tonight.” he replies, planting his weighty boots on the area rug and pushing against his thick thighs to stand.
“Frank, I’m starving, why not?”
“Cause we’re going out. You got all dressed up and I’m not gonna let some fucker ruin your night.” he explains, a mischievous spark dancing in his dark eyes.
“I am not letting you take me on a pity date, Frank.” you argue, cringing at the thought
“Not a date. But you’re hungry, I’m hungry. So let’s go somewhere.”
“Fine. Where are we going?” you resign, knowing there is no arguing with him once his mind is made up.
____________________________________
The small windows of the bar are caked in a layer of dust that matches the brown shade of the sticky wood floor Frank leads you across. The chatter from the handful of the evening’s patrons is punctuated by the occasional glass shattering from a barback tossing an empty beer bottle in the trash and the whack of cue poles hitting pool balls in the corner, where you and Frank are currently locked in a heat battle with two of Frank’s “fellow FUBAR veteran group” friends (as he lovingly introduced them.)
Deviating from a normal situation with you two, no one gives a second glance at Frank, worn jacket slung across his large frame and mud-crusted boots not even garnering a raised eyebrow from the several patrons seated at the bar top, all of whom in some way resemble the cast you’d see in b-grade cop show. Your chosen ensemble for your defunct date stands out among the casual crowd, prompting a few glances every once in a while from a passing handsome stranger. Frank does not hesitate to display a particularly harsh scowl, causing them to scuttle away in regret for even looking at you.
Frank’s calloused hands sneak a french fry off your half-eaten plate as you rosin up the cue pole, racking your brain for how you’re going to proceed strategically.
“Kay sweetheart, Curt and Barnes are up a point, so all you need to do is sink the 13 or the 9 and we can beat em’.”
“Angle’s too tight on the 13,” you respond “I think I can make the 9, but I’m not loving how close the 8 ball is.”
“You can do it, we just gotta get you lined up right. Here…” Frank ambles over to you, carefully bracketing his arms around you and guiding your hands into position. His broad chest barely sweeps against your back as he leans over you, sending an icy shudder down your spine. Usually so steady and precise, you swear you see his hands tremble for a moment as they rest on top of yours, lining up your shot with his military-trained eye for accuracy.
His breath is hot on your neck as he mumbles “All you” into your ear and takes a step back, the nearness of his body to yours stringing tension in thick spider-webbed threads between you.
“Kay, 9 ball. Right corner pocket,” you announce, throat suddenly feeling dry. You take a deep breath, over compensating for your current shortness on air, before pulling your elbow back and releasing.
A sharp crack rings out as the cue makes direct contact with its mark. The 9 ball wizzes across the green velvet, narrowly avoiding the 8, before sinking cleanly into the intended target. You jump up with a “whoop!” as Frank wraps his strong arms around you in celebration.
“Atta girl!” he cheers and you’re buzzing, though whether it’s the joy of victory or the way Frank is currently enveloping you and your senses, you can’t say.
Bucky and Curtis groan in frustration. As Bucky steps up to rerack the game, Curtis speaks up.
“You know you surprised me. The way Frank’s always describing you, had me thinking you’d be more demure and shy. You’re really more than he gives you credit for.”
“You talk about me at group?” you whip around to Frank, who stepped toward the back wall to take a swig of his beer.
“Mighta mentioned you in passing.” he shrugs, fiddling with the label of the bottle.
“Can’t get him to shut up about you.” Curtis replies
“C’mon Curt!” Frank rolls his eyes
“What else does he say about me?” you turn back to Curtis and a broad grin spreads across his face.
“Reracked and ready for round 2.” Bucky announces
“Barnes has an unfair advantage with that roboarm.” Frank complains, hoping to deviate the current subject away.
“I think Curtis and I are at a disadvantage going up against two of the best sharpshooters the country’s ever known,” you argue back, Frank’s attempt at changing the subject nearly working to take your mind off Curtis’ comments.
“Yeah well, only one of us isn’t a hundred.” Frank steps forward to take his shot and Curtis uses it to his advantage, leaning in to speak only in your ear.
“He says you’re the first thing that makes him feel good about himself since Maria and the kids died. Like he’s got a purpose for himself instead of just existing to be the Punisher. Those of us in the profession like to call that hope.”
Heat rises in your cheeks as Curtis steps away to go order another round at the bar, his words lingering in your mind as you glance over to Frank. His dark eyes meet yours, then he clears his throat, and quickly turns his attention to Bucky, who is circling the pool table with deep concentration. You swear you see a dopey smile growing on his face as he looks at the floor, avoiding your gaze.
____________________________________
The wind is loud in your ears as Frank’s motorcycle weaves and zips through the New York streets. You grip tightly to his back and breath in the hints of his woody aftershave mixed with the remnants of gunpowder still engrained in the fibers of his jacket. The Brooklyn Bridge looms large above as you cross over it, making your way back towards your apartment.
“Tonight was fun, Castle. You bring all your first dates to such a romantic spot?” you ask as you and Frank stroll down the sidewalk, stretching out the steps it takes to walk from his bike, which he parked an entire block away in a not-so-subtle act of extending the evening, to your front door.
“Told you sweetheart, that wasn’t a date. And no, I got a little more class than that,” His hands shoved in his pockets as the crisp evening air stings against a still healing bruise on his left cheek bone.
“So where do you usually take your first dates?” you ask
“Italian. There was a little place in Hell Kitchen that I used to take Maria to, but it’s been closed for years now. Gotta find a new spot.”
Frank has never shyed away from bringing up his family with you. You love that he feels comfortable enough with you to do that and he’s made it clear one of the reasons he keeps you around is because you don’t “get all weird” around him when it does come up.
“Well this is my building.” you say with a nod of your head towards the front door. He knows that and you know he knows that, but still you weren’t quite sure what to say as the evening is clearly coming to it’s end.
Deep, dark eyes meet yours and you both stare for a moment, before he cups your jaw and draws your face close to his. His lips are soft, even hesitant as they meet yours gently. He doesn’t linger, but pulls away just enough to give you the choice about what happens next.
“You kissed me,” you comment, lips still hovering inches from his as a giddy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.
“Yeah, that’s what you do at the end of a date when it goes well. Know I’ve been outta practice for a while now, but didn’t think that part changed much.” The boyish charm you know hides behind such an intimidating man now appearing behind his soft stare and lopsided grin.
“I thought this wasn’t a date.”
“Shit. I did say that, didn’t I?”
“I like Italian.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” you respond nodding your head “So take me for Italian. On an actual date. And if it goes well, kiss me again.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.” you confirm with another soft peck on his lips.
And for many years later, the number one argument in your relationship is which evening actually counted as your first date and which day your anniversary actually is. Frank lets you win that argument every time though. As embarrassed as he is when you tell people your first date was at a “seedy, Brooklyn dive bar no rational girl would’ve called him back after” (instead of the very romantic Italian spot he picked the next night,) it meant that you were his and that’s all that mattered.
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luna-rainbow · 11 months
Text
You know, back when I had such high hopes for TFATWS, the therapy scene had introduced three rules:
Don’t do anything illegal
Nobody gets hurt - “it’s kinda a big one”
“The whole point of the amends is to fulfill rule number 3!” - “I am no longer the Winter Soldier, I am James Bucky Barnes and you’re part of my effort to make amends 🙃”
(God typing that out just made my blood pressure go up)
(So the whole point of the amends is him telling people he’s making amends? Him telling people he’s no longer the leader winter soldier? Him telling people he’s Bucky?)
But let’s talk about rule number 2, cos it’s a big one.
In an alternate universe where a show exists that actually treated Bucky’s therapy properly, this was an important rule.
Nobody gets hurt.
And that should have included Bucky.
We know from previous movies he’s someone who frequently puts other people (that other person usually being Steve) before himself: whether it's in the first movie bringing up the rear for Steve or refusing to leave the burning factory without Steve or cheering for Steve without letting him see how upset he feels.
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Or even that fated act of picking up the shield to lead the firing away from Steve that ended up with him falling off the train.
This gets worse as he goes through the Winter Soldier: we see him let the other winter soldiers overpower him until he steps up to protect the very guy who ordered them to hit him; we see him willingly submit to the electrocution, we see him stay doggedly on the Helicarrier to "finish his mission" even if that meant certain death for him.
Then post-Winter Soldier we see him placidly let them place him in the electric chair and only tears himself out when he doesn't want Zemo to wake the Soldier. We see him hold back from fighting Tony until Tony shoots at Steve. We see him choose to go back to cryo - the type of place he was imprisoned for 70 years - because he didn't want to hurt people.
Consistently, and particularly post Winter Soldier, Bucky has acted like it's okay for him to be hurt.
In a better universe, an important arc for him should have been realising he could still do the right thing without having to be hurt by it.
Nobody gets hurt - and it is kind of a big deal for a guy who's spent 70 years being punished until he stops acting good - that now doing a good thing no longer comes with pain.
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last-herondale · 8 days
Text
Almost pt. 4
Bucky Barnes x femreader!
/ Steve Rogers x femreader!
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Angst, heartbreak, fluff
Warnings: bit of swearing
AN: helloooo next part is out! I’m excited to see where this series goes!!! Honestly I love Bucky and Steve so this is fun 😆
Enjoy 🤘🏼
The physical pain took a couple of weeks to heal. Steve was a steady nurse, changing out your bandages every few hours until the cuts seemed healed. Whatever the poison was, it had done deep damage to your body. It took you a week to regain the use of your muscles. Sam checked in now and again as Steve helped you recover. He was keeping recon on the Hydra base, watching for any new movements since your blunder with the trap, but since then there had been nothing new to report. They both agreed that the mission would be on standby until you were back to full health. Steve had nearly had you shipped out back to New York to recover, but a frantic panic of yours seemed to change his mind.
While you were confined to the safehouse, Steve hardly left your side. It was nice to be taken care of for a change. It was something you weren’t used to. Something you didn’t know how to process. He was patient and kind, even though you felt that you didn’t deserve it. You had fucked up. Big time. Nearly blew the mission with your recklessness and now it was being pushed back to accommodate you. While you would have been content to wallow in your pity, Steve would not allow it.
He pushed you to do your physical therapy everyday, cooked for you, helped you in and out of the shower in the most respectful way he possibly could. He made sure you took your medicine when you needed to. He was attentive to your every need.
When you were finally able to speak clear and full sentences again, one day while he was changing out your bandages you felt a sudden burst of emotion escape your lips.
“Why are you doing this?”
Steve ignored you for a moment, finishing off the last bandage on your left arm before he finally looked up at you with an unimpressed look.
“Because you’re injured and need help, now hold still while I-“
You snatched the bandages out of his hands with your other arm and glared at him defiantly.
“Why. Are. You. Doing. This?” You asked again, your voice becoming stern.
“Doing what exactly?” Steve asked, just as irritated, “Making sure you don’t die?”
“Why are you being so… nice to me? I’ve been on missions with you before, and whenever other people get injured-“
“Are you saying I don’t help my team?” Steve challenged.
You looked him square in the eyes and set your jaw tightly. “Not like this.”
There was a flicker of movement in Steve’s mouth. You knew you had hit a nerve there. While Steve was a great leader, the best probably this world would ever see, he never was this attentive to his injured teammates. When Barton had his side blown off during Ultron’s attack, he did not play bedside nurse for him until he was better. So why here? Why now?
He must have seen that you weren’t going to give up so easily. He sighed.
“I’m doing this because of Bucky.”
You felt your chest go cold.
“He told you to—“
“He hasn’t told me to do anything.” Steve interjected quickly, almost to save himself from saying the wrong thing, “He doesn’t even know what’s happened here, no one but Tony does. No, I’m doing this because of what you did for him.”
“Then why–”
“If you’d just keep quiet for a second, I will explain!” he said, oddly flustered. You had never seen Steve Rogers, fucking Captain America, get flustered. You sat back, crossing your arms and mimicking locking your mouth. He sighed again and drew on hand through his hair.
“Look, I’m not clueless, okay? I was there when Bucky and Nat broke up. I know what he went through after that… what he turned into once she walked out of his life. And I know you and Nat are friends, and I know you might take her side on the matter, but Bucky is my best friend, okay? So I saw what went on behind the scenes too from the other side.
“Neither of them were good for each other. What they had wasn’t healthy. It was toxic and strained and fueled by lust. When that fizzled out it was bound to fall apart.”
You were surprised by the information that Steve knew. Not that you thought that he was clueless, but you didn’t think that Bucky had shared that information with him. It made you feel a bit stupid. Of course he would tell his best friend. Maybe the idea of being the only one Bucky confided in had made you feel special, but now your ego deflated a bit.
“I tried to be there for him at first. Admittedly, I know very little about relationships and breakups. I didn’t know how to be there for him, and he wasn’t going to be truthful with his feelings because that’s just Bucky, stubborn as always. So it was easy for me to tell myself that he was okay, and let him handle things the way he needed to. He has been through so much already, who was I to tell him how to live his life?
“But then you started to show up more and more and he began to get better. I couldn’t explain how or why. I thought maybe that you two had been… together as his rebound, which I now know is not the case!” Steve said a bit sheepishly.
“I didn’t do anything,” You mumbled, “I just hung out with the two of you on the weekends.”
“Cut the shit. I know you stayed with him whenever I would tap out early. I know you would go babysit him whenever he got too drunk and in his feelings to distinguish what was real or fake. You were there for him when I wasn’t. You cared for him when he wouldn’t have the decency to care for himself, and you never belittled him for it. You cannot sit there and tell me that was nothing.”
You drew your mouth into a hard line. You remained silent, and Steve just sighed again and continued on.
“Just answer me this, and answer me honestly. Do you think Bucky is a broken man?”
You froze. That was something Bucky had said that night on the balcony. “She is broken, like me.” There were a lot of words that came to mind when you thought about Bucky, but broken was never one of them.
“No,” you whispered, “He is not broken. He is hurting, and he is stupid, and he is so irritably stubborn that it drives me insane… but he isn’t broken. He thinks that there is some part of him that is irredeemable. That he doesn’t deserve good things to happen to him in his life and it breaks my heart…”
You were crying again, but you didn’t care. Trying to hold back everything you felt for so long had taken all the strength you had. And now you were the weakest you had ever been. You looked to Steve, wondering if he saw you as a crying mumbling mess, but instead he pulled you in for a gentle hug. His large muscled arms comforted you in an embrace that seemed to warm you down to your bones.
“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered, “I see how much you love him, how much you care for him. I feared that he would push that love away, that he would hurt you during his time of pain. I wish I could make him see just how special you are.”
Steve’s words hit the tender nerves of your soul and you sobbed against his shoulder. He caressed your hair and held you tighter as you shuddered and cried against him. You felt ridiculous, crying like a helpless baby, but Steve just murmured comforting words and held you securely in place.
“It hurts… I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve lost myself in him… and he doesn’t want me. It’s stupid, it's so stupid… I feel so…empty. I shouldn’t have come on this mission. I’m so…sorry Steve. I’m sorry.”
Raw emotion cut through you as you were a blubbering mess. Steve just held you through it, not judging you or reprimanding you. He was calm, he was gentle, and he was patient. He kept telling you how good you were, how big your heart was. It was strange to be in this position. To be the one being reassured, to be the one being built back up. His words calmed your soul. You don’t remember falling asleep in his arms, but you woke up with him on the couch, his arms still wrapped around you as his head was tilted back on the couch.
You watched him a bit as he slept, not daring to move or stir him awake. You felt warm and safe in his arms. It was nice. He was beautiful, that you could not deny. His features were soft and gentle in his sleep. The rising and falling of his chest was even and steady. You slowly placed your head on his chest, listening to the even beating of his heart as you let yourself fall back asleep. For the first night since you had left New York, you did not dream of James Buchanan Barnes.
~
The next morning you were up, making sure to carefully untangle yourself from Steve’s embrace. He was still asleep when you started making breakfast. It wasn’t until the bacon started sizzling in the pan that you heard him grumble from the couch and pick his head up.
“Good morning,” you greeted, a soft smile on your face.
“Morning,” Steve said as he rubbed his face, “You look better.”
“I feel great, honestly.”
You fixed him a plate of bacon, eggs, toast, and a cup of coffee as he came to sit down at the small wooden table. He gave you an awkward smile as he took a sip of his coffee. You sat down next to him, a cup of coffee in front of you and a slice of toast. The medicine that you were on made you have a low appetite, but you didn’t mind making breakfast for Steve. You thought that it was the least you could do after everything he did for you.
The two of you chatted a bit while he ate his breakfast. He updated you on the situation with Hydra. Sam was able to infiltrate the base on his own, undetected, in the middle of the night. He stole their plans to ship out large quantities of the poison that had afflicted you. The shipment was planned to ship out to the states in a months time. Steve relayed this mission to Tony who suggested sending his own bots in to take care of it. Meaning you would be going home soon.
“Thank you for taking care of me, Steve,” you said softly as he finished his meal. He gave you a soft smile and just shrugged a bit.
You took up his plate and put them in the sink and tidied the kitchen as he went to take a shower. You packed your things, folding up your gear and clothes into your small pack. Steve had done your laundry for you while you had been indisposed. You smiled. It was such a small thing, but so many small things that Steve had done for you over the past few weeks had seemed to heal you in ways that you never thought you would heal from.
You felt a warm sensation in your chest.
You heard him come out of the bathroom. He was shirtless, with a towel draped around his neck as his blonde hair still dripped. “Showers open,” he said as he stepped into the room.
You faced him, gazing at him as you watched a few drops of water fall down his chest. You felt your face grow hot, and stumbled a bit as you tried to step past him. He caught you by the elbow and pulled you up, holding you a bit close to him as he chuckled.
“How many times am I going to have to catch you before we—“
You don’t know what came over you. What made you think that this was okay? All you know is that you leaned forward and kissed Steve gently on the mouth. His eyes widened in surprise, and the shock of it made you immediately pull back.
“I’m sorry— I shouldn’t have—“
But he had put his hand under your chin. His blue eyes searched yours a moment, in an incredibly soft and tender way. It made your stomach jump the way he looked at you now. As he leaned in again, slowly, allowing you to push away at any moment you wanted, you could smell the scent of his shampoo as his lips returned to yours.
He was soft and gentle. His hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you a bit closer to him. He broke off for a second, his eyelids were half closed as he searched your face.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, “If you don’t want… if this isn’t something you are comfortable with…”
You raised up on your toes to reach his level and kissed him again. You let your hands wrap around his neck and tangle into his wet hair. Steve let out a pleased sound, and his strong hands lifted you from your waist and held you closer to him.
You thought that this would feel wrong. That kissing Steve would ruin everything between you. You thought maybe he would be angry with you, for kissing him after confessing your love for Bucky just the night before. But here he was, kissing you, murmuring your name as he carried you over to the bed in the room.
Had he really done all he did this week for bucky's sake? Or was there something else? Some other reason why he had been so keen on taking care of you? Your mind tried to process these questions, but the feel of Steve’s mouth on your neck quickly shoved those thoughts away.
He broke apart long enough to lock eyes with you. He was over you on the bed, his eyes a bit wild as he looked at you. Your chests heaved together, his bare and shiny from the water.
“Are you sure?” Steve asked.
The only response you gave, was a gentle nod of your head as you let your hand gently scrape down his bare chest. He gave a shaky breath and shook his head.
“You will be the death of me, you know that?”
All other conversation fell away. All other feelings and thoughts and memories disappeared. There was only you and him. And for the first time in a while, you felt whole.
Part 5
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golden-barnes · 11 months
Note
So I have this concept in my head I think I even shared it with another writer. But anyway here it goes. Reader is the cook at the avengers tower and Bucky is convinced she's working for Hydra. He thinks she was sent to trick him and spy on him. His reasoning is she always where's these aprons that reminds him of his ma. Different aprons for every occasion. She always has 40s music playing and is always singing along and dancing. She's this soft feminine bundle of sunshine. And her chocolate chip cookies taste just like his ma's. He knows she's evil but she's really just wonderful. He has fallen for her but doesn't realize it and is constantly trying to get her to reveal that she is a Hydra agent. She just wants to make him happy because she saw what he was like when he was healing after what Hydra did and harbors a huge crush. She actually got the recipe from his sister before she passed away to make them to help Steve adjust and started making them for both of them. Anyway I'm done rambling.
Your freaking BRAINNNNN. Ugh if this starts a series in my page Im blaming you because I am obsessed but also don't have enough time to write a full story so I might do something longer later with this idk. (also I'm envisioning a chubby plus size reader because it just felt right) Hope you like it!
Warning: swearing
"Hey, Robocop, could you stop glaring at our new cook?" Sam joked, noticing his friend glaring at their newest cook.
"She's a spy, Sam." Sam scoffed at the ridiculousness of Bucky's words.
"Bucky, she is baking an upside-down pineapple cake and wearing a pink and white apron while dancing to a Nat King Cole song. If she's a spy, Beyonce is my wife." Sam tried to reason with the soldier, but Bucky glared at him.
"Maybe that's what Hydra wants you to think. They are trained to be unsuspecting and blend in." Bucky whispered to Sam, looking at the cook, who was singing the lyrics of the song that was playing. He was transported back in time when his mom and sister would do the same thing. And there she was, (Y/N) in his mom's summertime apron, singing one of his mom's favorite songs. Hydra was getting sloppy with their spies if this was what they were sending.
After his therapy session, Bucky arrived at the compound and noticed a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the kitchen counter. He didn't think much, but he grabbed one and ate it.
He paused and looked at the cookie. It was exactly like his ma's recipe. He could feel his eyes water because he hadn't realized how much he missed these fucking cookies.
"Hello, Sargent. Like the cookies?" The alleged spy asked. She was wearing a very familiar floral apron. An apron he used to laugh at, saying it looked like his nana's curtains. His ma would always stick her tongue out in retaliation. Maybe he should try and see if she has the same reaction...
"Nice apron... Kinda looks like my grandma's curtains." (Y/N) laughed at his joke.Like a full belly laugh. She looks cute, Bucky thought. But immediately shook his head. Nope, this girl that looks like a warm hug personified is evil.
"It does kinda look like that. My grandma had the same one." She said, twiddling with the edge of the apron. Hydra really trained this one well.
And every day it was like this. Bucky would find her singing and dancing with an apron that was exactly like the one his mom would wear. It was driving him insane. Sam had tried to reason with him, but everything felt like a trap. It was like Hydra stole his memories and was recreating them with a beautiful lady that was just Bucky's type.
But today, it was Bucky's last straw. (Y/N) was wearing his ma's favorite red apron. And he knew it was his ma's because he could see the J and R embroidered in the apron's hem. Bucky had bought the apron, and Becca embroidered it as a Mother's Day gift.
"Cookie?" She asked, showing him a plate of freshly baked chocolate cookies. They smelt exactly like the ones ma' used to make. It angered him.
"What's your deal? How did you get this recipe and that apron?" Bucky growled. (Y/N) took a step back, but she didn't look scared.
"You know the bakery in Queens called Paulie's?" She started saying; Bucky nodded. His mom used to bring them there anytime they were going to celebrate something special in their family.
"I used to work there part-time in high school. So did Rebecca, your sister... She was the head baker there and taught me all the recipes I knew. A lot of them were your mom's. When she retired and moved in with her grandson, she gave me all these beautiful aprons. I am sorry if it made you uncomfortable. " She said honestly.
Bucky kept looking into her eyes to search for a lie. But there wasn't any there.
"Steve went to Paulie's and tried my cookies. He said it tasted like your mom's, and that's when SHIELD hired me. They thought having a familiar aspect would be easier for your transition." She confessed.
"And the music?" Bucky whispered. He felt kinda nice; she wasn't a spy. She was just a woman who had a connection with his sister. Maybe he could find out more about her last moments through her.
"She wouldn't work if she didn't have music playing in the background. I think I just adopted that habit." She said sheepishly. Bucky chuckled; his mom was the same.
"Would you like to learn how to back?" She added and Bucky nodded, holding back the tears.
"Sure, I would love to." The smile that she gave him was worth a million dollars and he would gladly pay it if it meant he would see it again. To think he thought it was a fucking Hydra spy.
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painted-doe · 2 years
Note
love the Barnes files!! when is the next chapter going to be finished?
BOOM, ARE YOU LOOKING FOR THIS
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Text
𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 12
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Wanda and Y/n have decided to move in together, in Wanda’s house. Though Y/n is sad to say goodbye to her apartment, especially considering who used to live there with her, her friends help her say goodbye. Life goes on, even though bad things happen. And it’s true, bad things do happen. The most important thing is how you deal with them.
Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.
Warnings: fluff and the end. If you spot all the references to previous chapters I’ll kiss you on the mouth.
🌻Series Masterlist 🌻
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𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐎𝐧
You walked down the aisle, your dress making you feel confident in every decision you’ve made thus far.
You felt beautiful as you glanced at the woman you love.
Looking at her made everything worth it. You continued to walk down the aisle as the music played.
The beautiful decorations still managing to catch your eye even though you’d obviously been there when they were picked out. Everything was perfect about this day, down to every second.
You were so excited to go home tonight with your favorite redheaded woman, who was wearing her own fancy dress. She looked beautiful and she smiled at you as you walked.
You hadn’t been to a wedding in a long time, especially one you were participating in.
You considered your role to be pretty damn important, considering where you were and what you were doing.
Even though your shoes were somewhat uncomfortable and didn’t fit exactly right, none of it mattered because you were happy.
As you reached the end of the aisle, you stood next to Bucky as he married the love of his life.
At the reception, you met up with Wanda again. She was wearing a beautiful dress, with a sunflower pendant necklace to match her sunflower earrings.
“They look so happy,” she smiles. “I’m glad.”
“Me too,” you smile warmly. “I’m glad we’re happy. All of us.”
She grinned, looking up at you. “We really are.”
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“You look a lot better.” Sharon said as she took a sip of her vanilla latte.
“I feel a lot better.” You took a sip of your own drink. “Thanks. For everything. I don’t think I would’ve made it out if not for your texts every once in a while.”
She rested her hand on top of yours. “I’m glad I sent them. And I’m proud of you for signing up for therapy in the first place.”
“Thanks, Sharon. That means a lot to me. It does.” You smiled.
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“I’m sorry. For ghosting you all. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have just ran like that, and I’m sorry I hurt you, and—“ You were cut off by Melina wrapping you in a tight hug.
“We do not care, sweetheart.” She murmured affectionately in your ear. She then pulled away.
“We are just glad to have you back.” Alexei said, clapping his hand on your shoulder in an almost-painful way. You knew it was his way of being deeply emotional.
“I’m only kind of sorry for breaking in.” Yelena said after a moment. “But I am glad to see you again.” She hugged you.
“Yeah. It’s good to see you too.” You felt a sense of pure love fill you.
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You’d developed a new routine with Wanda.
You get up. You get ready. You eat breakfast with Wanda. You go to work. You drive home. You make dinner with Wanda and eat together. You end the night by turning on the TV to watch your favorite shows together.
You didn’t need to divide your life into two parts anymore. The world felt whole, you felt whole. Things were okay.
Life was going good.
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“Considering this is our last meeting,” Coulson began. “I’d like to talk about something special.”
“Oh, don’t do that, you’ll make me cry.” Clint laughed.
The whole group chuckled.
“Alright, alright.” Coulson grinned slightly. “In one of our earliest meetings, we played the secrets game. If you don’t remember, that’s when I had you all write down a vulnerable thought or secret down on a piece of paper and we read them aloud. I think now’s a good time to claim our papers.” He set out each piece of paper down on the small table in the center of the circle of chairs.
You found yours immediately and picked it up as the rest of the group picked up theirs.
“How about we go in a circle and read them aloud? To see how much we’ve changed as people.” Coulson guided.
When it was your turn, you read your statement out loud. “I wonder if they regret being with me,” you read from the paper. When Coulson asked how you thought you’d changed since writing the words, you smiled gently.
“I’m more sure of myself. And..I have faith in my relationships and connections now.” You explained. Everyone smiled at that.
Then it was Wanda’s turn.
“Everyone I care about gets hurt.” She reads.
You freeze. “That one—I read that one. That was yours?”
She nods, a sheepish grin on her face. “I know I’ve changed a lot since then. I’m not afraid of losing people I love. Well, I mean, of course I am, but I’m never terrified the world will just suddenly end. Not anymore.” She holds your hand as she says it.
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You walk out of therapy with your hand tightly held in hers.
Maybe there had been a point to all of it. Just maybe.
“Anyone up to grab lunch?” Tony called out as he was hopping into his car, Bruce getting into the passenger side.
You chuckled and flashed him a thumbs up.
As you and Wanda hopped into the truck, you turned on the radio. As you pulled out of the therapy center, the soft song filled the car.
Then you're left in the dust Unless I stuck by ya You're the sunflower I think your love would be too much Or you'll be left in the dust Unless I stuck by ya You're the sunflower You're my sunflower.
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A/n: hoping I got somebody in the beginning. I have been thinking about that part since ch. 4 lmao.
Anyways I’m gonna start rambling about this series because it means a lot to me. I started this series in the summer (I think??), and I was in a completely different mental state. I love this series and I hope the people who read it do too. I’m glad I got to finish it.
In conclusion, it’s okay to move on. It will take a long time, it won’t be easy, and it’ll be hard. Maybe the things you deal with don’t ever go away, but they can improve.
Love you all. 💕🌻
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xoxobuckybarnes · 4 months
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December 2023 Stucky Fics
Completed
Treading Water (Rated: M, Words: 274K) by sparkagrace / @sparkagrace
Summary: Olympic swimmer Bucky Barnes always believed that when the time came to retire, he would walk away with his medals and world records firmly in the history books and never look back. He never thought the water would leave him first. ***Part of the series Lane Lines: Lane Lines (Rated: M, Words: 132K), Lumière (Rated: M, Words: 5K), & New Traditions (Rated: M, Words: 6K)***
Without You Here, We Are A Worse Version of Who We've Been (Rated: T, Words: 10K) by endlesstwanted / @endlesstwanted & art by Estelior / @estelior
Summary: Bucky has to plan how to do his physical therapy when, by chance, he finds therapist and gym owner Steve’s videos on YouTube. Located two blocks away and encouraged by his roommate, Bucky goes and meets Steve, gets the help he didn’t know he needed, and a couple of things more in the way.
you can't touch this (Rated: E, Words: 7K) by Kalee60 / @kalee60
Summary: Bucky had always been tactile, always shown his affection through touch and a closeness that generally drove Steve crazy. And it would have been totally fine - if Steve wasn’t head over heels in love with him. But he was - and Steve wasn’t sure what to do about it. Or the five times over the years Bucky touched Steve's ass and the one time Steve touched Bucky's.
For Steve (Rated: E, Words: 6K) by stuckytoyoulikeglue (malfoys_minx)
Summary: When Steve is awoken in the early hours of Christmas morning by his drunk roommate trying to literally climb into his stocking, he doesn't know what to think. After all, just because Bucky happens to be the only thing he's ever really wanted for Christmas, doesn't mean that this year his wish is finally going to come true, no matter what his friend's intoxicated ramblings might suggest...
Bucky Barnes and the Christmas Spirit (Rated: T, Words: 3K) by this_wayward_life
Summary: Bucky's never celebrated Christmas. Steve sets out to change that.
'tis the damn season by (Rated: M, Words: 10K) by captainswit
Summary: Steve Rogers is a hotshot, big-deal Hollywood actor. He’s had four indie movies released in the past couple of years, has won awards (even if they have all been People’s Choice awards, the Oscars is next!), and has a blockbuster action movie coming to theaters in a few weeks. He's home for the holidays and he's missed his hometown of Lehigh, and one inhabitant of Lehigh in particular, his former best friend and old flame, Bucky Barnes. 'Tis the season for baked goods, holiday parties, and awkward encounters.
Home is the Human Heart (Rated: T, Words: 3K) by aimmyarrowshigh
Summary: The number of people who will be crowded into the Common Room makes Bucky’s skin feel too tight. “I don’t think I want to go.” “Well, that’s okay, Buck.” Steve’s eyebrows draw in the middle like it’s not actually. “I don’t want you to feel unsafe.” He pauses. “Do you mind if I still go?” “Why would you go?” Bucky does mind, a little. He likes being alone with Steve better than being alone without him. “You aren’t Jewish.” -- Or, Bucky and Steve and two Hanukkahs: one in 1930 and one in 2015.
All I Want For Christmas Has Been You for More Than Seventy Years (Rated: E, Words: 9K) by Kellyscams / @thebestpersonherelovesbucky
Summary: It's Bucky's first Christmas back with Steve in 70 years, just a year since he's come to live with him and the Avengers. Steve's taking him away from the city for the occasion. Bucky assumes it's for his own safety; just in case the hustle and bustle of the New York Christmas Season triggers some of the Winter Soldier tendencies he's been fighting and learning to overcome. Bucky doesn't mean to take this impromptu trip personally. Doesn't want to be upset. But he's recently recalled and redeveloped his feelings for Steve. Feelings he never shared with him. Feelings he has no idea if Steve shares, so being alone with his super soldier buddy might not be something he's ready for. Only Steve's reasons for taking Bucky away might not be so black and white--or red and green as it may be. Christmas songs, snowball fights, ugly Christmas sweaters, confessions, and Bucky wrapped up in Christmas lights.
The Last Boyfriend (series) by Brenda / @brendaonao3
All Mixed Up (Rated: G, Words: 3K) Summary: Oh God, she was probably someone's wife or mother or something and he'd just made things ten times more awkward and – "Oh, I didn't mean – I mean, I didn't mean it like that, I just thought –" Then a large, masculine, warm hand slid into his, and a low, very male voice said: "Nat, you love new friends, don't be rude." "James, really?" "Yes, really." The hand in Steve's gently tugged. "C'mon, I'll buy you a coffee; you can be friends with me instead." Holiday Themed Meet Cute, based on this Tumblr prompt The Last Boyfriend (Rated: T, Words: 6K) Summary: "Oh wow, you, um..." Steve's eyes, so large and beautiful and the same dark-blue of the twilight sky, widened behind the black frames of his glasses as he stopped in front of their small group. "You're here." Bucky nodded in lieu of speaking. He didn't think he could make a sound if his life depended on it. And if he could, he was sure it would be some babbling combination of God you're gorgeous and I want to kiss you until your glasses fog up. Which probably wouldn't help his cause of trying to behave like an actual human being and not a total disaster. Or: Bucky and Steve have the fluffiest and most adorkable first date ever. Forever's A Good Place to Start (Rated: T, Words: 2K) Summary: Exactly one year after Bucky and Steve's first meeting at Gregory's Coffee, Bucky keeps his promise. AKA, the fluffy proposal fic that everyone voted for on Tumblr. :D
i've got a lot to pine about (Rated: M, Words: 6K) by cable-knit-sweater (cable_knit_sweater) / @cable-knit-sweater
Summary: Bucky loves Christmas, always has. Steve, however, his friend and fellow medical resident, struggles a little more during the holidays, especially now he doesn't have any family left. Bucky does his best to try to cheer him up a little and make sure that Steve will feel some of the holiday cheer. Thing is though, they're not just friends or colleagues. They've been hooking up for months, almost a year, and Bucky isn't sure how he's going to keep his feelings to himself for much longer. Because to him, this thing they have stopped being something casual a long time ago.
Found My Place in Time (Rated: E, Words: 12K) by humapuma / @humapuma & art by Cap_D
Summary: “Buck,” he heard Steve say, “wake up. We’re here.” Bucky opened his eyes and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension out of his back. When Steve’s words sunk in, though, he turned and leaned forward, staring past Steve’s chest to look out the window. Beyond the wing of the plane, he found a beautiful coastline with white sand, blue waters, and palm trees, as well as rows of bungalows on the water. “Wow,” he murmured. “We’re staying in one of those, right?” - In which Steve invites Bucky on a trip to Fiji and they discover something a lot more than beautiful vistas and friendly locals.
Podfics
it's been a long, long time (Rated: NR) by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona)
Summary: The Asset returns to the man's apartment three days after pulling him from the river.
A Place Called Home (Rated: T) by roseszain
Summary: New Years Eve. Suits. Party at Stark's place. Honesty happens.
WIP
Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions) (Rated: E, Current Words: 82K) by dorian_burberrycanary / @burberrycanary
Summary: The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away. How’s that for some consolation on the road? A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky fix-it as part of the all-American road trip, detours included. ***Part of the series A Man Takes His Sadness Down to the River (The Consolation of Philosophy): The Same River, Twice (The Man Is Still Left with His Hands) (Rated: G, words: 4K), Still Left with the River (The Paradox of Motion) (Rated: G, Words: 14K), &  Not Language by a Map (The Grammar of Sensation) (Rated: E, Words: 20K)***
a league of our own(Rated: E, Current Words: 36K) by burning_brighter / @burning-brighter
Summary: Steve’s sixteen-year-old son’s one and only dream is to play in the Major League. He thinks he has a shot when the team get a new coach, retired MLB legend and Steve’s high school crush, Bucky Barnes. Steve hasn’t thought of the man in many years, but seeing him brings back many memories that push Steve to reach out to an old friend and maybe make new ones on the way. What happens when Steve gets to know Bucky properly? What happens when they open up about their darkest secrets and deepest fears? There’s really only one thing that can happen.
Every Me and Every You (Rated: M, Current Words: 5K) by deadto27 / @deadto27
Summary: Bucky Barnes is doing his best. He's getting by after the blip, after Sam became Captain America, after Steve...well, it's best he doesn't think about that. The point is, his life is different now, and he's trying his best. He just wishes the hollow feeling in his chest would go away. ----- Bucky gets blinded by a bright light as the tear seems to implode in on itself and there’s an odd little jolt as the pulling stops, and then Bucky’s blinking, trying to get his vision right again as he loosens his grip on America. “You okay?” he checks, still squinting. He’s probably not blind, he thinks. It just feels like it right now. “I’m okay,” America tells him and he sees her nod shakily as his vision starts to clear, and he carefully lets go of her, seeing that she can support herself, hands pressing onto the floor next to her. “Uh…I don’t think I am,” says another voice, and Bucky turns his head so fast he might give himself whiplash. Because he knows that voice. He knows that voice better than any other voice on the planet and he’s missed that voice, so, so much.
hey now, you’re an all star (get your game on, go play) (Rated: E, Current Words: 75K) by buckyismybicycle / @buckyismybicycle
Summary: Boston Bruins trade notorious party animal/human disaster Bucky Barnes to the Dallas Stars, and captain Steve Rogers is not impressed when Fury puts him on babysitting duties. But, as he gets to know Bucky - really gets to know Bucky - he wonders if maybe the media has got it all wrong - very, very wrong. PS - you do not need to know hockey for this, I promise.
Rereads
it always leads to you in my hometown (Rated: E, Words: 37K) by pineappleyogurt (musicforlife101)
Summary: Bucky doesn't want to talk about life in LA. Or the icy numbness in his chest. Or how shattered he is without Steve. Or how he doesn't know who he is anymore. Or the supposed choices he has to come home. But when Steve calls him babe out of habit, he decides to let him. At least for the weekend. It's a lesson in choices and consequences and finally figuring out what's important. -- You can't unmake a choice. Decisions in life aren't like making a bed or choosing a path. You made it, it's done. You don't unmake it or remake it like a do over. You just make a different choice and live with those consequences. Each day is a choice. And the consequences, good or bad, of staying here aren't the same as the consequences of coming back. Just like the consequences of leaving aren't the same as the consequences of staying gone.
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