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ellemj · 4 months

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Half-Tongue Rule: 12 Days of Smut #1

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot

Summary: A little Asgardian liquor and a whole lot of tension leads to a teeny tiny bit of smut between you and a certain jealous super soldier.

Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, teasing, public teasing, jealous!Bucky, slight DUBCON if you consider it so, alcohol consumption, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 9k (I'm very sorry)

A/N: Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for both catching my mistakes in writing and helping with warnings. She's the reason I don't give in to my daily urge to delete my whole blog lmao. Also, I apologize for this being an hour later than planned. It has been a day. This is just a lil baby smut but I think each day of this event will get filthier and filthier as I get closer to my favorite storylines.

You hate parties. You hate the amount of alcohol that people seem to need to consume just to enjoy each other’s company. You hate the way you feel obligated to stay for a certain length of time just to appease the host. You especially hate the way parties make it hard to even hear your own thoughts. Or maybe you just hate Tony Stark’s parties, specifically. His parties are classy, yet overly loud and hard to break away from when you’re ready to leave. However, you still accepted the Christmas party invitation that Pepper so kindly emailed you three weeks ago. It would’ve been too difficult to come up with a fake excuse for missing it when half of you live in the same building.

So, that’s what led you here, taking the elevator up to the top floor of Stark Tower, standing with your back pressed against the cold metal wall as you listen to the chatter of the various SHIELD employees who piled into the elevator with you. The only familiar faces on the ride up are Sharon and Wanda. The three of you arrived together, but you know as soon as the elevator lets you out into the party, they’ll both disappear into the crowd to be social butterflies. Your dress is so thin that the cool temperature of the elevator wall sends a chill down your spine, making you regret having left your winter coat downstairs like everyone else.

The sound of music playing through the speakers just a little way higher in the elevator shaft reaches your ears and you take a deep breath. You remind yourself that parties are supposed to be fun and that you put all of this effort into looking hot as fuck, you need to find a way to enjoy the night. You tell yourself to be free and have a little fun, not to hide away in a corner refusing to have even one drink, and not to rush out of here before it’s been at least an hour.

When the elevator slows to a halt and starts filing out to join the lively, festive gathering ahead, your legs refuse to carry you forward. The lower half of your body hasn’t quite gotten the whole be free and have a little fun memo yet. Wanda shoots you a disapproving look paired with a small frown and shakes her head before reaching out and wrapping an arm around your waist. She pulls you along with her and suddenly, you’re immersed in Christmas music and Christmas cheer.

“Don’t be a buzzkill. Have a few drinks for once and loosen up, you’re can be the life of the party when you’re a little drunk.” Wanda commands, ushering you a few steps further away from the elevator. You’re about to remind her that she’s only ever seen you drunk once, and that it’s been over a year since then, but as soon as her eyes land on Vision across the room, she’s gone. You find yourself standing alone in your little burgundy dress. You take a moment to let your eyes roam over the crowd, noticing how almost everyone is in black or navy. You see a couple of women in forest green dresses, and even one in a dress that’s as white as snow, but no one else is wearing the same color as you. Damn. That’ll make it a little harder to blend in in the corner.

You let out a soft sigh before pushing your loosely curled hair back over your shoulder and turning to the left to head to the small bar. One drink. You can have one drink and pretend like you’re enjoying this before you make your great escape. Though the expansive room is quite crowded with people, the bar itself isn’t so bad. The bartender is quick to pass you your glass of whiskey neat as he shoots you a kind smile. You’re only one sip in when you notice the bartender’s eyes look past you, over your shoulder, at someone else. You await the inevitable approach of whoever it is that’s behind you as you savor the slight burn of the whiskey trickling down your throat.

“You showed.” Sam’s voice rings out from behind you. He steps up to the bar and rests his elbows on it, standing a little to your left. You turn to face him and find him grinning from ear to ear. His infectious smile has always made you feel a little more at ease, and so you find yourself relaxing the tiniest bit in his presence. You lift the glass to your lips and take a second sip. Sam studies you while he waits for a beer, taking in your deep burgundy dress and your quiet demeanor. He knows parties aren’t your thing, but he also knows you can be more fun than just about anyone he’s ever met when you have a little bit of alcohol coursing through your veins. It’s not that you need to drink to be a fun person, but you keep yourself so reined in, so on task most of the time, that you forget to live. When you drink, you let yourself relax a little and your guard goes down just enough for you to have a good time without overthinking it. “Whiskey neat?” Sam asks, eyeing your drink of choice. You nod your head and drag your fingertip around the rim of your glass, glancing down at the amber-colored liquid.

“I wanted to look mysterious and brooding. Holding a glass of whiskey makes a girl look mysterious and brooding, right?” You ask jokingly, giving Sam a small smile. He chuckles and stands up straight as the bartender presses a bottle of beer into his hand. He turns to fully face you now but his gaze continues to span across the room until it lands on a certain super soldier. Bucky stands tall beside one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, dressed in a well-fitted pair of black dress pants with an even better-fitted black button up adorning his torso. You take in the unusual sight of his vibranium arm on display. You’ve never seen him with his sleeves rolled up like this before. He looks a bit like a successful CEO of some company that earns him a few million dollars a year, especially with those gold accents in the crevices of his arm. You can’t seem to tear your gaze away from the man who you’ve been strategically avoiding at all costs.

“If you want to look mysterious and brooding, you should talk to the cyborg over there. He has that look down pat.” Sam says with a laugh. He won’t say it to either of you out loud, but Sam thinks you and Bucky are so similar that you could’ve been cut from the same cloth. He knows people say that opposites attract, but he has to wonder if that’s always the case. To anyone else, it would seem like you and Bucky hate each other, even though you work together so seamlessly in the field. Sam has witnessed an odd sort of vibe between the two of you multiple times before, something that walks a very thin line between hatred and sexual tension. Neither of you have ever given Sam enough solid evidence that it’s anything besides a mutual dislike, but he can tell. He may not know just how right he is about the two of you, but he knows something is there.

As if Bucky could feel your eyes on him, he turns his head ever-so-slightly and meets your gaze. His blue eyes are always so piercing, seeing right through you and making you feel on edge for absolutely no reason. The moment he looked at you was the moment you should’ve put your drink down and switched to water for the rest of the evening. But when Thor arrived a few moments later, bearing the gift of Asgardian liquor, you decided to drink your demons away for one night.

---

“What’s going on over there?” Sam’s question catches the attention of the small crowd of Avengers that are gathered around one end of the bar, as he points across the bar where you and Thor seem to be engaged in a more-than-friendly conversation. Sharon smiles deviously and Bucky’s jaw clenches, already hating where this is going.

“Thor’s trying to close the deal with her. He gave her a little Asgardian liquor, and I think it’s going to pay off for him.” She explains, lifting her colorful drink to her lips and taking a long sip. Bucky watches you closely for a moment, picking up on the fact that you’re definitely past tipsy. Thor is seated on a barstool and you stand in front of him, laughing at something he’s just said as he smiles down at you. Bucky’s jaw clenches again when he sees you playfully rest a hand on Thor’s knee. Bucky would like to think that your hand is there for balance, but he knows that’s not what this is. Not at all. He scoffs and finishes off his own glass of whiskey.

“It’s not going to pay off for him.” Bucky mumbles, trying to ignore the unfamiliar feeling that’s rising up in his chest. Jealousy. You wouldn’t go for a guy who’s shamelessly flirting with you after liquoring you up, just to get you into bed. You thrive off of banter, off of arguing with someone to the point of wanting to shut them up with your body. Bucky isn’t positive, but he’s fairly sure that he knows this about you. He picks up on the way you come alive when the two of you end up in a heated argument after a mission goes awry, he picks up on the way your frustration in the field brings about a different kind of tension between the two of you on the trips back to the compound. You aren’t the type to fall head over heels for a few compliments and a pretty face, even if the guy is a god. Thor would be too easy for you. And if Bucky has learned anything about you after butting heads with you for the past two months, it’s that you like a challenge more than anything.

“It looks like it is.” Sam claims, pointing a finger in your direction now. Bucky looks again and sees Thor leaning in close to you, whispering something in your ear that makes your cheeks a little more pink. He catches himself squeezing his whiskey glass so hard that it might’ve shattered if he hadn’t released it onto the bar. Thor rises from the barstool, towering over you by at least a foot, shoots you a suggestive look, and then walks past you. Everyone watches as he heads straight for the elevator, making a quick exit from the party, everyone except Bucky. He’s focused on you as you turn your whole body to see Thor walk away. It’s clear that he’s daring you to follow him out, to run off somewhere for a late-night rendezvous, anyone can see that. Sam and Sharon have seemingly lost interest in the situation at hand and they quickly dive into their own conversation. Bucky continues watching you closely, his eyes narrowed and zoned in on you, as you finish off your drink and set your glass down on the bar. When you finally look back up, you look straight at him. As soon as your eyes meet his, he notices the way every muscle in your body tenses. Fuck it.

His walk is confident, nearly cocky, and you can tell he’s seething. You watch him so carefully as he makes his way through the crowded room, noticing how everyone parts as soon as they see him coming. He’s clearly sporting a bit of a mood and no one here would dare be on the receiving end of that. As Bucky approaches you, his eyes bore into yours, with no trace of a smile or kind greeting to be found behind his blue eyes. You swallow hard, getting ready for one of his signature scoffs or briefly worded insults.

“Bucky—” You start, ready to diffuse whatever argument your sometimes-field partner is about to begin with you. He doesn’t even slow down as he nearly barrels into you, his vibranium hand wrapping around your wrist, forcing you away from the bar. He turns you around roughly and pushes you in front of him, straight through a corner door that he’s throwing open with his right hand. Suddenly, you’re immersed in even dimmer lights as he closes the door behind him, effectively shutting the two of you off from the rest of the party. His grip on your wrist loosens and you can smell the soft tinge of the same whiskey you’ve been drinking tonight on his lips. The music is muffled in here and it helps you get ahold of your thoughts before you turn to face the little shit that dragged you in here against your will. When you turn around, Bucky stands still in front of the door, his vibranium hand uncharacteristically unobscured by any sort of glove. It gleams in the low light and distracts you for a brief second, before you look up at him.

“What the hell, Bucky?” Your voice is raspy from the burn of the whiskey and Asgardian liquor. It feels a bit like you swallowed rocks, but the buzz it all gave you is worth it. As annoyed as you should be with Bucky right now for manhandling you like he’s anything but your occasional partner in the field, you can’t help but think about how fucking hot he looks tonight. His dark pants show off just how muscular his legs are, specifically his thighs. They also show off just how well-endowed he is in a different department, but you try hard not to think about that. Bucky catches you looking him up and down, unfortunately, as you’re not the slyest when you’ve been drinking liquor that works against even a super soldier’s metabolism.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” His tone is patronizing, but his words send an all-too-familiar heat rushing between your legs. You instinctively listen to him, shifting your eyes up to meet his. His command felt almost lustful to you but his gaze is harsh. Maybe you just felt like it was lustful because you wanted it to be. You do tend to get a little horny when you’ve been drinking, and with the Asgardian buzz, everything starts to seem a little porny. You swallow, closing your mouth and waiting for the man to say anything else. He takes his time choosing his words, as he lets his eyes rake over your body just like your eyes raked over his a moment ago. He didn’t get a good enough look at your dress when you were all the way across the bar, but now he’s decided that he fucking hates it.

“Bucky?” You prompt, tilting your head to the side, trying to get him to look in your eyes again. When he finally does, his gaze remains cold and harsh.

“You showed up at a party just to get drunk and go home with Thor?” He questions, his tone both accusing and condescending. You scoff, taking a step backward and crossing your arms over your chest. This small action lifts your breasts and you notice Bucky’s eyes briefly lower to steal a glance. God. He wishes he’d found a darker closet to force you into.

“Fuck you for that.” You spit back at him, narrowing your eyes and shooting daggers in his direction. He laughs lowly and watches as you wobble a bit on your heels, the buzz from the liquor developing into more of a state of drunkenness as your body struggles to metabolize it.

“You would fuck me. You’d fuck anyone after drinking what he gave you.” Bucky tosses out the insult with ease, a cocky smirk painted on his face. You run your hands through your hair, wondering when the room started tilting to one side.

“I wouldn’t fuck you, but anyone else maybe. What are we doing in here, James?” You ask, looking around the small, empty supply closet that you seem to be in. You take one step back and lean against the wall behind you for a little support. Bucky chuckles at the sight of you, making such an effort to fight off his insults and maintain your balance at the same time. He’s never really been around you when you’ve been drinking, and he finds it unbelievably amusing.

“Are you lying to yourself or just to me?” His voice is lower now, a little quieter and a lot more charged with something. You want to say it’s charged with lust, but again, the porny haze might just be from your own point of view. However, Bucky is feeling that porny haze in the air as well. Hell, Bucky’s the one creating it. You push his question to the back of your mind, focusing on what you want to know. If he would just hurry up and tell you why he forced you into a damn supply closet, you could walk out of here and head downstairs to find Thor and start having some real fun.

“Let’s try this one last time, what are we doing in here?” You repeat, pushing yourself away from the wall and stepping closer to him? You’re only a foot apart from each other now, and you can see him much better from this distance in the low lighting.

“I’m keeping you from making a stupid decision.”

“No, you’re kind of cockblocking, if you even know what that is.” You retort, rolling your eyes and turning to the left as you reach for the door handle. Bucky quickly reaches out with his flesh hand, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and forcing your arm away from the door. He doesn’t let go of your wrist this time.

“You’re not sleeping with him.” He says firmly. You look down at where he’s gripping your wrist before looking back up at him, narrowing your eyes once more.

“Why the hell do you think you get a vote?”

“I’m not voting, I’m vetoing it. You’re drunk.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Barnes. Contrary to popular belief, I can take care of my damn self.” You snatch your hand away from him, thinking he’ll release his grip when you do, but he only tightens it and uses the leverage to pull you against him. Your chest crashes against his and you can feel his breath fan across your face. He smells like whiskey and light cologne, and his body heat emanates through his thin button-up shirt. A few less-than-holy thoughts speed through your mind. For a second, you worry he might be able to read your partially drunken thoughts with his intense stare. Bucky’s jaw clenches and he fights the urge to shove you against the wall and fuck you right here.

“Then go home and take care of yourself instead of letting that jackass do it for you.”

Did Bucky really just tell you to go home and get yourself off? You’re ninety-percent sure that that’s what he just alluded to. Okay, eighty-five percent sure since you’re not quite all there due to the obscene amount of alcohol you’ve consumed over the past hour. You feel a wave of heat spreading through your entire body, lighting your skin on fire. The point where Bucky’s hand is clasped around your wrist is especially on fire. You inhale a shaky breath, calming yourself down and trying to command your body to cooperate with you and cool down. Bucky smirks as he watches your attempt to gather yourself.

“I got all dressed up and drunk for sex, Barnes. I’m not letting my effort go to waste.” Bucky’s eyes are saying so many things at once, but you can’t figure out a damn word of it in your current state. All you can think about is him pressing you up against the wall right now. Maybe he’d be a little pliant since he’s also downed a good amount of whiskey tonight, and since he clearly suddenly thinks that he has a say in your sex life. You feel your drunken confidence, your alter ego, coming out to play. You smile now, pressing your lips together and softening your gaze as you drink in the sight of his steely gaze and unreadable expression. “If I can’t have sex with Thor, are you going to tell me who I can have sex with tonight?” Your words take him by surprise and he recoils, dropping your wrist and stepping back. You feel powerful now, making him step away with only your words.

“You really should just go home, sleep it off.” He says, trying once again to steer you in a safe direction. It’s not so much that he’s trying to steer you in a safe direction, but more that he’s trying to keep himself from having a reason to pick a fight with Thor. He doesn’t want his hands on you. He’s not letting it happen.

“I am so fucking tired of you always trying to protect me. What happened to the introverted ass who lived across the hall and skulked around the tower? He was way more bearable.”

“You like me way more now.” He states, narrowing his eyes at you. You shake your head quickly.

“You’re still an ass, but now you’re all confident and you know you’re hot and it’s unbearable.” You feel the regret as soon as the words leave your lips. You didn’t mean to say the part about him being hot.

“You think I’m hot?” He asks. He’s intrigued now, that cocky smirk once again gracing his face. You shrug your shoulders, reaching for the door again. He lets you grab the handle this time but he places a strong, firm hand against the door, at the height of your face, stopping you from opening it. He steps in close, his chest nearly brushing against your right arm and side as he leans down to your ear. “Answer the question.” A chill races down your spine, forcing you to close your eyes and draw in a deep, calming breath. Why is he being so damn authoritative all of a sudden?

“I’m drunk.”

“Which just means that you have no filter. So, answer the question.” He keeps his hand firmly planted against the door and you know he won’t let you out of here until he gets his answer.

“Yes.” You answer as nonchalantly as possible, turning your head to him. You’re a mere inch apart now, his lips hovering so teasingly in front of yours and his eyes staring into your soul.

“You’re not leaving with him.” He states. His tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip and narrowly missing yours. You can’t stop yourself from looking at his lips, especially his bottom lip that’s now moistened right in front of you.

“You can’t tell me what to do.” You slur your words, pushing your hands against his chest and forcing him back a couple of small steps. You march yourself out of the closet now, leaving him behind, but your mind still seems to be stuck on the image of his lips. You should’ve just kissed him. Who could have blamed you if you did kiss him? Asgardian liquor gives everything such a sexual energy for some reason.

Bucky can’t stop himself from keeping a watchful eye on you for the rest of the party. After you got away from him, you headed off to dance and drink even more with Sharon. As long as you don’t sneak off to wherever Thor went, he really doesn’t give a shit what you do. Or maybe he does. He isn’t quite sure why he suddenly gives a shit. Why were you so set on having sex with someone tonight? And why did it seem like you didn’t even care who it was going to be? That doesn’t seem like you at all, having a meaningless one-night stand with whoever happens to be up for one.

Bucky’s mind keeps mulling over the fact that you practically called him hot. Well, you said yes when he asked if you thought he was hot. Maybe you’re more bold and honest when you’re drunk. Or maybe you’re just a liar when you’re drunk. Either way, Bucky can’t get it out of his head.

“Yo, cyborg, you in there?” Sam waves his arm in the air, drawing Bucky’s attention out of his thoughts and back to the present conversation.

“What?”

“Which one of us is going to offer the girls a ride home? They’re both way too drunk to drive.” Sam asks. Bucky scoffs. Like you’ll accept a ride from either one of them with how independent you try to be and how especially stubborn you’re already being tonight. Sam distracted Bucky just for a moment, so he didn’t notice you and Sharon heading over to join the group in the sitting area of the lavish room.

As they round the side of the couch, Sharon takes the only space on the couch between Sam and Clint, leaving you to stand beside the couch, steadying yourself on the arm of it.

“We were just talking about you two.” Sam says to you both with a grin, glancing at Sharon first and then up at you. Bucky notices you trying a little too hard to remain in a steady and upright position, but he knows if he stands up and offers you his chair, you’ll absolutely refuse to take it.

“Are you going back to the tower tonight, Y/n?” Clint wonders aloud, focusing his eyes on you. Bucky can tell that Clint also notices your unusual difficulty with balance, but he doesn’t seem very concerned. Clint’s seen her drunk before, so he’s actually used to this side of you. You laugh and shake your head, your curls softer and looser than when Bucky first saw you a little while ago.

“No way, I’m staying with Sharon tonight.” You answer. You looks down at her feet for a brief second and Bucky can tell it’s because your heels are hurting your feet, but you’re not the kind of girl to take your shoes off and walk around barefoot in public.

“Come on, you can’t both be on your own this drunk.” Clint argues, looking to Bucky and Sam for support. Sam catches his drift and takes on a slightly more serious expression before looking up at you. You shake your head once again, rolling your eyes before turning your head and narrowing them at Bucky.

“I wouldn’t even be going home with Sharon if Sergeant Barnes over here hadn’t made me miss my chance with someone.” You say coldly, your eyes once again shooting daggers at Bucky. Sam and Clint turn their attention to Bucky now, and Sharon lets out a hearty laugh.

“Yeah, I heard you vetoed her potential one-night stand.” Sharon’s voice is full of amusement.

“I did you a favor.” Bucky scoffs, returning your hard stare with one of his own. You saunter over to him now, maintaining your balance well enough to seat your pretty little ass on the arm of the chair he’s in. You cross your legs at the knee, causing your already short dress to ride even further up your thighs. Bucky’s vibranium hand that rests on the arm of the chair is only inches behind your ass. He forces himself to look past you, at Sam, who is clearly very entertained by this whole situation.

“Sam, is cockblocking ever a favor?” You ask, seeking validation for your little tantrum over Bucky stopping you from leaving with Thor. Sam shakes his head, looking up at you with a joking frown.

“Never. Friends don’t stop friends from getting theirs.” Sam answers, shooting Bucky another look. He’s implying to Bucky that you and him must not simply be friends if he stopped you from sleeping with Thor tonight. You clap your hands together once before pushing yourself off of his chair and taking two steps toward the couch, you turn yourself effortlessly and take a seat on Sam’s right knee, which doesn’t even seem to faze him. Bucky watches as Sam places a hand on your back to keep you steadied there. His jaw clenches and his vibranium hand coils into a fist.

“See, Bucky, you’ll have to make it up to me.” Your tone can only be described as flirty and suggestive, but only Sam and Bucky seem to pick up on it. Sam raises an eyebrow at the seething super soldier, awaiting his response. He cocks his head to the side, thinking of a way to play this smart.

“Next time Fury pits us against each other in training…” Bucky starts, leaning forward in the chair and resting his elbows on his knees before continuing. “I’ll let you win.”

“No thanks, I kicked your ass last time. I don’t need you to let me win.” You narrow your eyes at him once again, before turning to Sam, Sharon, and Clint. “Sam remembers that, right Sam?” Sam nods vigorously, a smile creeping across his face as the memory plays through his head.

“I would’ve loved to have seen it.” Sharon pipes up, leaning against Sam’s shoulder now. Damn, he’s looking like he’s such a ladies’ man tonight. Bucky considers taking a picture for him so the memory lasts. Wanda and Vision join the group, Wanda perching herself on the armrest next to Clint’s side of the couch and Vision standing beside her, keeping a hand on her back. “Oh, I have the best idea.” Sharon suddenly sounds like a child, and she’s clearly about to say something ridiculously stupid. “We should play truth or dare.”

---

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing this the fair way.” Sam asserts. Clint quickly took his leave before the game was agreed upon, claiming that it was already way past his bedtime and he had to check in with his wife and kids over the phone before they all fall asleep. Wanda and Vision filled his vacant spot on the couch.

You feel the effects of the alcohol that you consumed earlier slowly making its way through your system and losing its potency as it’s metabolized. You still feel a good bit of drunkenness from the Asgardian liquor, and you really wonder how long that will take to clear your system. “We alternate between truth and dare, spinning the bottle to pick who takes the turn.” Sam places an empty beer bottle on the coffee table before us all, his hand briefly leaving your back when he leans forward to do so. As he rests back against the couch again, his hand finds its way to your middle back again. Sitting on his knee like this is starting to make it feel like your ass is falling asleep, and if your ass is falling asleep then your legs won’t be far behind.

“Truth.” Sharon calls out for the first turn, reaching out to spin the bottle and get the game going. You stand up from Sam’s knee and switch to sitting on the floor on your knees. Your dress is sitting dangerously high on your thighs now. You glance around the circle at everyone. Sam, Sharon, Wanda, Vision, and Torres, who joined when Clint left, all keep their eyes trained on the spinning bottle. Bucky, however, is looking right at you. He probably wishes you would’ve gone home and taken care of yourself like he told you to earlier. What a jackass. The bottle slows to a stop, the lip of it pointing at Wanda. “Wanda!” Sharon yells out, excited by her first victim. “Does Vision have a dick?” The question sends the group into an uproar, but Wanda only laughs.

“Yes.” She answers, keeping it short and simple.

“Are follow-up questions allowed?” Sharon quickly asks, turning to look at Sam.

“Only if the bottle lands on that person again and it’s a turn for truth.” He clarifies. Sharon scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“That’s no fun at all.” She complains. You watch as Wanda leans into Vision’s ear and whispers something, something that makes him smile and nuzzle against her cheek ever so slightly. God, they’re sickeningly adorable. Wanda breaks away from him for a moment to spin the bottle, calling out dare as it begins to spin. Of course, it lands on you.

“Wanda, we’re friends.” You remind her. You doubt she would make you do anything too crazy, knowing her, but if she’s been drinking and isn’t her normal self tonight, she might be a little adventurous. Mischief gleams behind her eyes and you know you’re in trouble. This game is starting to feel a bit sobering.

“I dare you to sit on Bucky’s lap for the rest of the game.”

“Wanda!” You yell out, an annoyed tone to your voice and a glare painted across your face. “That has to be against the rules. What if he doesn’t want to participate?” You try to talk your way out of it, looking to Sam now since he seems to be in charge of the rules here. He thinks for a second, looking at you and then up at Bucky. Bucky’s expression is stoic, as unreadable as ever as he stares back at Sam.

“I’ll allow it.” Sam decides, smirking at Bucky. You groan, pushing yourself up from the floor but refusing to make eye contact with Bucky. You move a few steps toward him and sit on his knee, just like you sat on Sam’s earlier.

“Oh, no. That’s not his lap.” Wanda points out, waving her hand at you, gesturing for you to move in closer to his body.

“Fuck you, Wanda.” You say evenly, before fully sitting on Bucky’s lap as he straightens up in the chair a bit. You’re basically sitting right on his crotch, and slightly to his left so his vibranium arm is sitting on the armrest behind your back. You feel him take a deep breath and his exhale fans across your right arm. You avoid turning to look at him. The more you think about it, you’re still really annoyed that he felt like he could tell you not to sleep with someone tonight. You’re even more annoyed with yourself for listening. You should have just kept your original plan and left with Thor. You offer Wanda one last glare, making her laugh and lean closer into Vision. She mouths the words get over it before drawing a heart in the air with her fingers, her way of apologizing to you and saying it isn’t that serious. You know it’s not that serious but you also know what she’s doing. She thinks if you’d just hook up with him once, Bucky and you would get rid of whatever tension is between you and you could be regular partners in the field, as casual and unproblematic as when you work with Clint or Sam. But this isn’t some movie where the two main characters fuck their feelings away and stay friends in the end, hell, there aren’t even any feelings to fuck away here. You’re still barely even friends. You just work together.

You lean forward in Bucky’s lap, away from his body, and spin the bottle, calling out truth before leaning back again. You lean a little too far back, your balance still not perfect due to the alcohol coursing through your veins. The exposed skin of your back in your low-cut dress brushes against his left chest and vibranium arm and his cold metal hand quickly slips behind you, resting on the skin of your back and steadying you. He clearly doesn’t want you sitting any closer than you have to for this dare. Once you’re steady, you expect him to put his hand back on the armrest of the chair, but he doesn’t. He keeps it firmly planted on your back, his vibranium fingers reflecting your body heat and warming up ever-so-slightly. You find the touch comforting and you feel yourself relaxing a little bit. This definitely beats sitting on the floor.

“Sharon!” Sam hollers, tapping her knee that’s closest to him on the couch and then clapping his hands excitedly. “This is going to be good. What do you want to know about her, Y/n?” The bottle points straight at her, and she seems more than ready for whatever you might ask. You think for a moment, with everyone’s attention focused on you, expecting you to come up with something good.

“Was Steve a good kisser?” Bucky lets out a quiet, low chuckle at your question. You can tell he’s trying to seem like he’s not overly enjoying this game, but you know he’s getting at least a little kick out of it. His hand is still on your back and you don’t think he plans to move it anytime soon. You focus on it a little too much, noticing the way his pinky finger rests lightly just an inch above your ass.

“Yeah, he knew what he was doing, that’s for sure. You never would’ve known he hadn’t had any real practice in the last few decades.” She admits. She’s not even trying to hide her smile as the memory of Steve comes to the forefront of her mind. “You know how sometimes guys either do too much with their tongue, or not enough?” You and Wanda both nod, while the four men in the group look on at you, obviously intrigued by the topic. “He did exactly enough.”

“Wow, who taught him the half-tongue rule?” Wanda questions jokingly.

“The half-tongue rule?” Torres sounds genuinely curious. He can be so adorable sometimes, so clueless for someone so unbelievably smart.

“For a good makeout session, you should never put more than half of your tongue in the other person’s mouth.” Sharon explains. Torres nods as she explains, as if he’s absorbing the information and storing it for later use. “Okay, this one is going to be good.” Sharon announces, her eyes darting around the group for her next victim as she sends the bottle into a rotation. You get distracted for a moment when Bucky’s vibranium thumb rubs a small circle against your lower back, so softly that you question if it’s even happening.

“White Wolf…” Sharon tsks. A look that you can only describe as evil takes over her features and she grins as she stares Bucky down. You didn’t notice that the bottle landed on him at first. He continues rubbing those small circles with his thumb and you’re really wondering what the hell he’s doing, but you don’t want to draw attention to it. “I dare you to demonstrate the half-tongue rule with your partner there.” Sharon points right at me. You swallow hard and shake your head, but you can feel Bucky’s lack of any reaction behind you. He doesn’t so much as take a deep breath or shift in his seat at the threat of the dare.

“Wait, what are the stakes if they don’t?” Vision asks, looking around the group for an answer.

“You have to answer three truths in a row, hard ones.” Sharon decides, looking to Sam for approval and he nods quickly. You see him shoot Bucky a look, you can’t tell what it is but it’s insinuating something. He knows Bucky would refuse to answer three hard questions about himself, so it’s way less likely that he’ll refuse a dare.

“And what if the person the dare involves refuses to participate?” Wanda asks, smiling at you with fake sweetness. You see what she’s doing and you’re mentally kicking her for it. She wants to know what punishment you’ll face if you refuse to let Bucky complete this dare with you.

“Same thing, I guess.” Sam answers quickly. You don’t have a problem with answering truths, but with the direction Sharon and Wanda have been taking this game, it might be a dangerous thing to get yourself into. Who knows what they would ask at this point?

“So? Are you guys going to demonstrate the half-tongue rule or can we ask you both three questions?” Sharon prompts, her eyes flitting between you both. You finally turn and look at Bucky, but as your ass moves against his lap slightly, he presses his vibranium hand flat against your lower back, attempting to still you. He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours to see what your answer will be.

“Come on, we’ve all seen you kiss on undercover ops before, it’s just like that.” Wanda chimes in, trying to get the group what they want. You tune her out, waiting for Bucky to speak up and say he won’t do it, that this is childish and silly and you’re all adults. You know you’re in trouble when he cocks his head to the right and his lips curl into that smirk that you’ve grown so used to seeing on him.

“Why aren’t you backing down from this?” You ask quietly so only he can hear you. Everyone is staring at you, anticipating either a kiss or a white flag of surrender.

“Why aren’t you?” He licks his bottom lip and for the second time tonight, you think about how much you want that lip pressed between your own. Fuck Thor for giving you that drink.

You honestly couldn’t say who started it. You couldn’t say how long it lasted. But when you leaned into him and his left hand found it’s place on your hip while his right snaked up to your hair and pulled your face against his, you were lost in the moment. His lips moved against yours like it was a dance, something spontaneous and straight out of a movie, your heads tilting in opposite directions to give each other exactly enough leverage and access. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, waiting for you to part your lips and grant access. You hesitated, just for a second, but he noticed it and tugged on your hair, making you open your mouth just slightly, just enough for him to slip his tongue in and caress your own. Fuck, he tasted so good, like whiskey and lust and everything you wore this dress for tonight. Your entire body feels like it’s sparking with electricity everywhere that he’s touching you, where your ass is against his lap, where his hand is on your hip, where his hand is tangled in your hair. You sit now, still in the position you just kissed in, but with only your foreheads pressed together, your mouths inhaling and exhaling within an inch each other. He's probably breathing heavy from the effort and lack of air but you’re breathing heavy from the fucking horny tailspin he’s just sent your body into. It’s taking everything in you not to ask him for more.

“Holy shit, that was porn.” Torres says, sounding both impressed and surprised.

“How do two people who barely get along kiss each other like that?” Sam demands to know, and you can feel his stare boring into the back of your head.

“You remember what we all do for a living, right Sam?” You ask, pulling away from Bucky’s embrace and turning back around to face the rest of the group. You get more comfortable now, leaning against Bucky as he stretches his arms out on both of the armrests and sinks into the chair a bit. You’re both more at ease now, as if the kiss melted away some of the tension. The group raves over the kiss, and what they think was chemistry, rather than simply two experienced operatives who happen to be good kissers being forced into a situation together. Bucky, ready for the moment to be over with, grabs your left hip with his vibranium hand to hold you steady as he leans forward and spins the bottle. The shift in position reveals something, or more makes you feel something. His hard cock pressing against your right thigh. You turn your head to look down at him as he’s leaning back in the chair again and he makes eye contact with you, his smirk from earlier gone and his expression once again one of indifference. God, he’s really fucking good at acting like nothing fazes him.

“Sam, tell us about your last date.” Bucky says, his eyes still locked on yours. He must’ve seen the bottle spin to a stop in his peripheral vision. As Sam reluctantly begins to tell his tale, capturing everyone’s attention but yours and Bucky’s, you turn to the group once more and lean against Bucky again.

“Something in your pocket?” You question jokingly under your breath, still feeling his boner present underneath you.

“Stop talking.” He responds just as quietly, his tone sending a chill through your body. Why is it so fucking hot when he talks to you like that? It should infuriate you, the way he warns you and acts so demanding and in charge. Instead, all you can think about is him talking to you like that in bed. You swear, after tonight, you’ll never touch Asgardian liquor again.

The game continued on for another half an hour before the party began dwindling down until only about twenty or so guests were left. You still sit comfortably on Bucky’s lap, his dick as hard as it was when you kissed earlier, and yourself no less inebriated than you were then.

You shift on his lap, a little worried that you might be putting his left leg to sleep. Suddenly, you feel his hands on both of your hips, gripping you tightly and stilling you instantly. The room is still fairly dark and noisy with the music and drunken conversations that are being held all around, so you doubt anyone will notice his sudden shift in position.

“Don’t move.” He groans lowly in your ear, leaning forward so his chest presses firmly against your back. You stiffen against him, your eyes closing for a second as his voice and touch once again send your senses into overdrive. The game ended five minutes ago, so you should really get off of his lap now. Your phone, which currently sits on the coffee table in front of you vibrates and as Bucky sits back in the chair again, you let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You know he heard your phone vibrate, so hopefully he doesn’t mind you leaning forward to grab it.

Sharon: Are you staying with me tonight or going back to the tower?

“You’re staying in the tower.” Bucky says, clearly reading the message over your shoulder. You push yourself out of his lap now, turning around to face him as he adjusts his suit pants and sits up a little straighter to hide the situation going on in his pants.

“That’s the second time tonight that you’ve tried to make decisions for me.” You point out, staring down at him. Really, who does he think he is? He’s always seemed overly confident to you, but trying to tell you who you can’t sleep with and now where you’re spending your night? He’s crossing lines left and right. You watch him carefully from a short distance as his gaze follows Sam and Sharon, who are saying goodbye to a few friends near the elevator. Sam offered to drive Sharon home, since she definitely can’t be trusted to get herself there safely.

“You listened to me the first time.” Bucky says confidently, shifting his gaze back to you now, but keeping a serious expression on his face rather than the playful, cocky one that you know so well on him.

“Did I? Because I remember you telling me to go home and take care of myself, and I haven’t done that.” You glance down at your phone to text Sharon back while you wait for whatever smart ass reply Bucky is going to spew out next. You’re just about to text her and say that you’d love to have a sleepover when you hear Bucky’s low, sure-of-himself laugh. You look at him once more, your thumbs hovering over your phone screen. The way he looks in that chair, with that fucking smirk slowly taking over his features, makes you rethink what you were about to say to Sharon.

“Yet.”

---

Everything smells like him. And why wouldn’t it? You’re in his room, lying on his bed, with him standing just a few feet from the foot of the bed, his eyes roaming over every inch of your body. You still have your dress on but you feel naked in front of him like this.

“Are you getting shy on me now?” Bucky taunts, mischief gleaming behind his eyes as he takes in your timid expression and flushed cheeks. Sam chose to drive Sharon all the way back to her apartment across town, while Bucky quickly stepped up to give you a ride back to the tower. Somehow, along the way, the truth or dare game continued until you ended up accepting a dare to do exactly what Bucky said, to go home and take care of yourself. However, the dare came with a new stipulation: you had to take care of yourself while he watched.

“Yeah, I’m shy.” You respond sarcastically, pushing yourself off of his bed and trekking across the room to stand immediately in front of him. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he hopes the stance hides the racing of his heart from you. The stance most definitely doesn’t hide the raging boner straining against the front of his dress pants though. There probably isn’t a pair of pants in the world that could hide something so prominent. You stand close to Bucky, breathing in his intoxicating scent for a moment before closing your eyes and letting a serene smile cross your lips.

Bucky stands frozen when you begin slipping the straps of your dress down your shoulders. The muscle along the side of his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth together when you reach back and easily unzip your dress. And when you finally let the small piece of burgundy fabric fall the the floor? Hell, he’s done for.

You open your eyes once you’re fully exposed to him, peering up at him with the most innocent look you can muster.

“Fuck this.” Bucky grumbles, losing every ounce of self-control he was harnessing as his hands grasp the sides of your face and he kisses you with so much desperation that you feel something awaken inside you. He uses the same move from earlier, tugging on the hair at the nape of your neck to get you to part your lips enough for him to taste your mouth. Fuck, you taste like his favorite whiskey. Your body moves on auto-pilot as Bucky walks you backward until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. With a less-than-gentle shove, Bucky sends you falling onto his bed. His hungry eyes travel all over your skin, over the perfect peaks of your breasts, the smooth skin along your abdomen that leads him straight down to what he needs most right now. Your cunt.

The way he’s looking at you can only be described in one way: animalistic. You’re sure he’s going to be back on top of you within seconds, but no, this fucking man sinks to his knees on the floor at the foot of the bed. He effortlessly lifts your legs over his shoulders, and then leans into you, kissing your clit so softly that you whimper. With all of the tension between the two of you tonight, you wouldn’t have expected him to be so gentle.

“You taste so fucking good.” Bucky groans against your folds, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all the way down until he reaches your entrance. That’s when he stops being so gentle. That’s when he steals a glance at you, taking in the way your chest heaves with arousal and the way your hands are already gripping his bedsheets. That’s when he can’t stop himself from plunging two thick fingers into you and curling them, letting his fingertips drag against the walls of your pussy.

“Bucky!” You cry out, your back arching off the bed and thighs shaking over his shoulders.

“You could’ve taken care of yourself.” He reminds you, setting a relentless pace with his hand. He fucks those two fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. Every move he makes ignites your nerve endings more and more, until your nervous system is nearing a damn firework show. “You could’ve laid here and gotten yourself off for me.”

The moans and curses falling from your lips are nothing short of sinful, and every sound sends another rush of blood straight to Bucky’s already-hard cock.

“You’re so fucking stubborn. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted to end up in my bed tonight.” His voice is dripping with lust and you can almost hear the smirk that’s surely painted across his face as you come undone at his hands.

“Bucky…” You can’t say a damn thing except for his name. Even as he finger fucks you straight through your orgasm, and starts slowing down his movements, you can’t form a single word in your mind.

“Look at you.” Bucky coos, sliding his fingers out of your pussy one last time. You’re lying there so still with your eyes still scrunched closed. You completely miss the way Bucky closes his own eyes as his sucks the taste of you off of his fingers. He knows he should’ve held you to the dare and made you get yourself off. He never should’ve tasted you. He never should’ve felt how tight and wet your pussy is for him.

Now that he knows how sweet you taste, how nicely your pussy would fit around his cock, how fucking perfect you sound when you’re cumming for him, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to let you leave his room.

TAG LIST:

@gyokujyn @mrsjoequinn @thealloveru2 @sunnyhummingbee @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier #12 days of smut

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melodeebarnes · 4 months

Text

"Of course, I noticed"

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It's your first Christmas with the Avengers, and you're nervous. Not everyone is big on the idea of a new teammate. They haven't been very good at remembering to include you. However, someone you least expected remembered.

Notes from Author: This is my first thing to write on here, and first written out fanfic ever. So, not sure how I feel about this. I started writing this at 2AM. So, we'll see.

*No mention of y/n*

It's currently 7:45AM, and you've just finished up wrapping the present you picked out for Wanda. You want to make sure everything is perfect.

It's you're first Christmas living in the compound and what happens today could determine how everyone thinks about you. You may be overreacting a bit...but what if you're not? Either way, your nerves are at their peak.

You take a deep breath, and grab all of the gifts you bought for everyone. You head down to the main living area, which holds the biggest Christmas tree in the compound. You delicately place each present underneath it, next to the other ones.

You follow the aroma of fresh hot coffee into the kitchen. You pass Wanda, who's flipping a pancake, humming to the Christmas music sounding from F.R.I.D.A.Y.

You grab your favorite mug, and quickly turn, eager for the first sip of coffee. Thankfully you got here just in time, as there isn't much left. You pour the rest of the steamy hot goodness into your cup.

You quickly doll in up, a little bit of cream, and a little bit of sugar. Just the way you like it. You take the first sip, and it's perfec-

"You've got to be kidding me." Bucky groans, causing everyone to turn their attention to him. Though, his eyes seem to be on you. "You just HAD to take the last of the coffee?"

Bucky. He's the person you knew you'd have the most trouble with today. He has never been fond of you. You thought he just needed some time to warm up to you, but even after months he still hates you. He made up his mind about you the first day, and won't change it.

"I'm sorry, there wasn't much left." You explain.

He scoffs, "So you think you can just come in here and take it? You have no right to-"

"Hey! What's the rule?" Wanda interrupts, immediately shutting him up. "No arguing on Christmas morning," she reminds.

He huffs out a sigh, glaring at you. "Whatever." He mutters.

"Here, I'll make another pot." Steve offers, being the peacemaker, he is. He looks back at you, giving a friendly smile.

Everyone sits down, eating their breakfast. There's a bit of banter between the group, but you just sit and listen. They're clearly more familiar with each other than they are with you.

They haven't made much effort to get to know you on a personal level, so you chose not to force it.

Tony walks in into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bacon from the plate. "Alright, now that I'm here we can start the real meaning of the gracious holiday."

You follow behind everyone to the black velvet couches and sit in the in the empty spot on the corner. Natasha passes out everyone's gifts to their recipient.

As you watch each gift get passed out, you notice how few of gifts you have, compared to everyone else. You have two gifts, one from Steve, and one with no name.

"Sorry, we're not used to you being here for Christmas." Bruce shrugs.

"Oh, no. It's fine. I totally understand" You try to hide the disappointment behind a smile, but there's no hiding the sadness' in your eyes. Though, no one cares enough to notice.

You try to brush it off and open the gifts you do have. Inside the gift from Steve is new training gloves. Your old ones were already beginning to wear out, your thankful to have new ones.

"Thank you, Steve."

"My pleaser." He smiles, warmly.

The second gift with no name, is a small box with a poorly tied bow. You sigh at the lack of effort. When you open it, you see a necklace with a diamond incrusted butterfly charm. It's the same one you saw at an antique store you went to when everyone was out shopping on a day off.

You figured no one was paying attention, but clearly someone was. "Wait, who is this from?" You ask, gently holding up the necklace.

Everyone either shrugs, or looks around looking for an answer to the same question.

"Well whoever it was, thank you so much." You're unable to stop smiling. You admire the beauty of the necklace.

A few hours later, you're back up in your room. You decided to leave the celebration early because you felt left out. It just seemed like it'd be best for everyone.

However, the sound of a knock, echos off your door.

"Who is it?" You raise your voice, in order for them to hear you. When there's no answer, you sigh getting up. You slowly open to door, to see Bucky standing on the other side, hands in pockets, and eyes avoiding yours.

"Uhm...may I help you?" You ask, confused.

"I just came to tell you, we're doing our annual Christmas movie night, in case you wanted to join." He mutters, looking off to the side.

"Trust me, no one wants me there."

"That's not tru-" He cuts himself off.

You furrow your brow, "What?" you ask.

"Did you not like the gift?" He asks, now looking at your neck, still bare with no jewelry.

"No, I loved it I just-" you got yourself off, suddenly putting the puzzle pieces together. "Wait, that was from you?" You question, taken aback.

"Uhm..yeah." He mutters.

"Why didn't you put a name on it?" You feel confused. Why would, Bucky, of all people be the one to get you the meaningful gift.

"Well, usually everyone can tell by the wrapping." He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I'm not the best at it, but I swear I try."

"Well, that is what matters." You laugh. "Wait, but how did you know?"

"When we were all out shopping, I saw the way your face lit up when you saw the necklace." He explains. "So, I assumed it'd be the perfect gift for you."

"I can't believe you noticed that."

"Of course, I noticed." He smiles at you for the first time ever.

You can't lie, seeing him smile did abrupt a few stray butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you, it must've cost a fortune."

He shakes his head. "The price isn't what matters. It's the thought that goes into the gift."

"I never thought I'd hear that coming out of your mouth." You laugh.

"Yeah, and if you tell anyone I'm gonna have to kill you." He jokes.

"Can't ruin your big bad wolf reputation, right?"

"Hey, it's white wolf." He corrects.

You put your hands up in defense. "My apologies."

"Wait, so why aren't you wearing the necklace?" He asks.

"I'm not great at putting on necklaces, and I didn't want to break or mess it up." You explain.

He nods in understanding, "Would you like me to help?" He asks.

"Sure, I would love your help." You smile, opening the door wide, inviting him inside.

He hesitantly walks in, immediately spotting the gift sitting in the poorly wrapped box. You smile, delicately taking it out and handing it to him. You turn around, watching him through the mirror.

He uses his flesh hand to gently brushes your hair out of the way, sending shivers down your spine. He brings the beautiful necklace in front of you, and you lift your hair up out while he clasps the chain.

You let your hair fall, but you both stand silently looking in the mirror. Suddenly he ends the silence by clearing his throat.

"It's beautiful, Bucky. Thank you."

"Call me Buck." He smiles, again.

"Really? But I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you. Sometimes I'm just not great with new recruits, and I don't handle it the proper way." He looks away, embarrassed by the way he's been acting. "And I'm sorry for treating you so poorly these past few months."

"It's okay." You smile.

"Now come on, lets go down for movie night." He begins to walk out.

"But they probably don't want me there." You say.

"If they have anything to say, they'll have to deal with me." He warns. "Between me and you, they're all a little if not extremely scared of me." He laughs.

"Well then, this should be good." You smile, and follow him out.

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n

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trashywormeateroffics · 4 months

Text

the great war (bucky barnes x female reader)

the gif is not mine!

summary: you get jealous and have a fight with bucky. inspired by the great war by taylor swift.

a/n: hey anon!!! sorry it took so long. i have no excuse. anyways, i hope you enjoy this!!! <333 also i am once again asking u to send me requests with marvel characters (natasha/bucky/loki) and taylor swift songs so i can write a one shot about it !!!! bye love u

masterlist

\\\\

you don't know how it all happened. one second, everything was perfect. the next, you were acting like a crazy person and saying horrible and hurtful things. and now you're pretty sure you've officially lost him forever.

\\\\

it all started with her. agent carpenter. pretty, blue eyed blonde, flirty, perfect agent carpenter.

“alright everyone,” tony begins and the people in the meeting fall into silence. “as you all know, a new member is joining us on the avengers initiative.” they all nod, including you. “her name is samara carpenter and she was personally recruited by fury. which means she's very good at what she does.” the billionaire looks at steve and he nods, taking the lead.

“alright, i want you all to be nice and welcoming. especially you buck.” he says, making most of the people there snort. you look at him.

“what did i do now?” bucky asks, incredulous.

“nothing yet, but if you just stare at her and don't greet her like a normal person she'll leave this team as fast as she came.” sam tells him. the grumpy super soldier rolls his eyes.

“whatever, bird-brain.”

steve shakes his head in disapproval of the two bickering idiots but soon enough he's back on track with the presentation.

bucky's rough gaze scans the room until it falls on you. his eyes soften when he sees that you are already looking at him. you give him a soft and playful smile, which he returns.

after the meeting is done and everyone is dismissed, you head to your room.

not five seconds pass until someone knocks on the door. you smile, because you know who it is.

“come in!” you sing-song.

when he enters, you can't help but stare at him. you've been together for a year now but you still couldn't believe that he was yours. he was so beautiful, so funny, so kind, so dumb sometimes, just so… him. you loved him so much. yet you still hadn't said it. you were trying to take things slow, for both of your sakes.

“hey.” you tell him as he closes the door behind him. he has a look on his face which you recognize. something's bothering him.

“c'mere.” you pat the spot next to you on the bed.

he wastes no time in dropping himself unceremoniously on the mattress and letting out a sigh.

you begin to run your hands through his hair.

“d'you think i'm scary?” he asks with a pout adorning his beautiful pink lips. god, you want to kiss him so badly. so that's what you do. you peck his lips and then immediately shake your head with a smile.

“do you think that adorable pout could be scary?” he purses his lips to stop himself from smiling, but still, a small smile plays on his lips.

“y/n, i'm being serious.” he sighs. you do too.

“maybe to some people you could be. not to me though.”

“but when you first met me-”

“i was too busy thinking about how hot you were to worry about you being scary.” he laughs. god, how you love that sound. you would ridicule yourself to hear it. “is this about what steve and sam said?”

he shrugs.

“i just… hate that i'm so socially inadequate.”

you hand in his hair stops. he furrows his brows.

“bucky,” you begin, “we are a bunch of weirdos, all of us. there is not one person on this team who is socially adequate.”

“but at least the others can fake it, you can fake it.”

“you know what my favorite thing about you was when we first started to become friends?” you ask and he shakes his head. “that your face said it all. if you weren't in the mood for something, i could tell from a mile away, and in return, if something excited you, it would be contagious.” you caress his cheek and he leans into your touch. “and when i couldn't pretend, i always knew you were there to just sit in silence with me. no expectations to be socially acceptable.”

“i don't know how you do it.” he sighs. you frown.

“do what?”

“make every bad thing about me sound so… good.”

your frown deepens.

“hey.” you straddle him and grab his face in between both your hands. “you are perfect. just like you are. don't you dare change yourself.” you tell him firmly. then you purse your lips. “unless you totally want to for whatever reason and i would totally support you because-” you suddenly fall silent. he looks at you, expectant for you to finish your sentence. “because you know i'm here for you, no matter what.”

he smiles softly.

“i know, doll. me too, i'm always here for you no matter what.” you purse your lips to stop yourself from spilling your heart out of your mouth as you caress his cheekbone with your thumb.

“how about we watch a movie? you can pick.”

he pecks your lips and nods.

you spend what is left of the day watching movies and cuddling.

\\\\

two days after that meeting, she arrives. you're all hanging around the common kitchen when steve appears with someone trailing behind him.

“everyone, this is agent carpenter.”

“please, call me samara. or sammie even.”

“sammie, nice to meet you.” sam is the first one to greet her. “i'm sam wilson, but the coolest avenger is fine too.”

you shake your head and roll your eyes. then, you take a step forward, but before you can introduce yourself and welcome her to the team, you see her eyes flicking over to something right next to you. or someone. her eyes shine with curiosity and attraction.

“hi, nice to meet you.” she smirks. you swallow slowly.

bucky gives her a nod, but then he seems to remember what steve and sam told him and attempts to give her a smile.

“hi, i'm bucky.”

“bucky,” she repeats slowly, almost tasting the name in her mouth. she's about to say something else but before she can, you speak up.

“i'm y/n. welcome to the team.” you smile as honestly as you possibly can, but dread fills your stomach.

“hi!” she smiles at you. “you're so pretty, oh my god!”

you give her a tight smile.

“thank you.”

“of course!”

the rest of the team introduces themselves, even though she insists she already knows almost all of them and then you all go about your day.

\\\\

it had been a month since she arrived at the compound. you had seen her a few times, mostly during training. but you didn’t particularly go out of your way to talk to her. there was something you didn’t like. maybe it was your intuition, or maybe it was the fact that she did seem to go out of her way to talk to your boyfriend. and he did not seem upset by that, the opposite actually. he seemed to enjoy it.

you were not a jealous person, least of all with bucky. but something about her irked you. something about her made you doubt yourself and everything you believed in.

“i like her,” natasha says while she paints her nails, laying on her stomach on your bed.

wanda hums in agreement while she flips through the pages of a beauty magazine. you don’t say anything.

“what about you, y/n?”

“um, yeah.” you try to give them a convincing smile but based on the looks they give you, you do not succeed.

“okay, spill the tea.” wanda tells you. had she been learning internet lingo?

you sigh.

“i just- i don’t know.” you shake your head. “doesn’t something feel off to you?”

“not really.” wanda says as natasha narrows her eyes.

“you’re jealous.” she finally decrees.

“i’m not.” you respond defensively.

“you’re jealous that she seems to be getting along with barnes.”

“i-“ you begin your sentence with the intention of uttering a lie, but it dies right on your tongue. “i am. but i don’t want to be.” you confess.

“explain yourself.” she tells you in a tone that could sound commanding and harsh to someone else, but you know it’s filled with care. she’s your best friend, she would never hurt you on purpose. so is wanda, who looks at you with a knowing look you can’t seem to pinpoint the reason for.

“i just- i don’t know. he’s never like that with anyone. since when is he the type to joke around with someone?” you shake your head. “i’m an asshole, cause i should be happy for him. he’s putting himself out there. but i can’t. i’m jealous. so cliche.” you huff.

“you’re not an asshole. an asshole would make a whole scene, give him an ultimatum or something like that. you’re just expressing your feelings to your friends.”

“and, y/n, we all have those ugly feelings. they are human.” wanda tells you, softly. “you should talk to him about it.”

“what if he gets mad?”

“y/n, please. that man adores you, he could never get mad at you. least of all for this.”

maybe they’re right. maybe that’s the healthiest thing to do. and even as you agree with them, you know you will not talk to him about this. because he will realize that you’re right, and that there is so much more to the world than just… you.

\\\\

“come on! you just have to put it in the oven!”

you hear her before you see her. you weren’t expecting to see him though.

right there, almost as if mocking you, they stand. cooking together. he looks so comfortable around her.

they seem to be wrapped up in their own little bubble, so you clear your throat. immediately, they turn to look at you. he widens his eyes, almost looking guilty.

“james found me and i asked him to join me.” she explains, but you stop paying attention the moment she says his name. she called him james.

“james?” you narrow your eyes in question.

he seems to want to say something because he opens his mouth like a fish out of water but you leave mumbling an excuse about training with nat before he can utter a word.

back in your room, you fall to the floor and break down. you knew she was trouble the moment she walked in, but you weren’t expecting this to happen so soon.

heartbroken, you get up from where you’re sitting and head to your bathroom.

the girl in the mirror looks defeated, but you feel angry. if he didn't need you anymore, then you didn’t need him either.

\\\\

the days after that, you ignore him, always having an excuse at the tip of your tongue to not hang out with him. he doesn’t seem to care that much. until, you suppose, after three days, he begins caring.

“doll, can we talk?”

“hm?” you play dumb. you encountered each other in the common kitchen. that damned place, you hated it now, but you were hungry.

“i asked you if we can talk. you seem… distant.” his brows are furrowed. you only know that because you turned to look at him only for a second. other than that, your gaze doesn’t meet his. “come on, y/n, i know something’s wrong.”

you look at him and smile sarcastically.

“you do?”

“yes. please, let’s ta-“

“hey guys!” you roll your eyes at her voice.

“have fun you two!” you tell them, smiling venomously, only looking at him before you leave.

“is everything okay?” she asks.

“i’m sorry samara, i can’t talk right now.” you hear him say before you hear his footsteps getting closer to you in the hallway.

“y/n!” he calls out to you when you get into the elevator without looking behind you. before the doors can close, you see his metal arm get in between them. he gets in and they close. once they do, he hits the stop button. then, he turns to you. he frows when he sees the hate in your eyes. “y/n, what is going on?”

you scoff.

“fuck off, james.” you tell him, your voice full of venom. he widens his eyes in surprise before narrowing them.

“oh, so that’s it? you’re jealous and that’s why you’re avoiding me and acting crazy now?”

“i’m not jealous, but i’m not blind either.” you clench your jaw. “and don’t call me crazy.”

“you are blind if you think something’s going on with her.” he tells you. you roll your eyes and then tilt your head.

“when was the last time you let someone call you james? when was the last time you cooked with someone who was not steve?” he begins breathing heavily. you laugh and bite your lip incredulously. “i think you took the whole being friendly thing too serious.”

“i can't believe you right now.” he shakes his head. “you're angry because i'm not being an asshole to her?”

you scoff.

“oh, please, james.” he clenches his jaw.

“stop calling me that.”

“oh, so i can't call you that but she can?”

“you know that's not-”

“you know what? go ahead. let her call you james. fuck her in the middle of the common room for all i care. lets see how long she puts up with you.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth but its too late, a deep hurt covers his face. still, you can't stop. you're too hurt, too scared. too goddamn stupid. “you think she's going to console you while you have your nightmares?” you laugh venomously. “you think she's going to accept you, all of you?” as you keep talking, his expression turns from pained to angry. resentful even.

he turns to the panel control of the elevator and pushes the stop button so the elevator will move again.

“you know what?” he glances at you and you're almost taken aback by the distant look in his eyes. “maybe i'll fuck her. maybe i'll even date her too. she's probably not as desperate and clingy as you.”

“fuck you.” you spit out.

the doors open, he steps outside. before he leaves, he turns to look at you.

“yeah, you too.”

after the doors close again, you fall to the floor and let out a heart-wrenching sob. you never thought it would end like this.

\\\\

four days. four fucking, horrible, long days bucky has been gone from the compound. you try to ask steve about it, because you know he knows where he is, but he won't tell you. even though you two are close friends and he never got in the middle of a fight between you two– even though you two never fought– he seemed angry. at you. you didn't know if he knew the reason for the fight, but he knew you were in the wrong, that much you knew.

these days all you do is cry, sleep, eat and repeat. you're way past heartbroken, you're miserable, inconsolable. it's all your fault. this prison of sadness was your own making.

you miss him. god, you miss him. you wonder how he is. did he already fuck someone else? did he regret ever being with you?

you don't dare text or call him. you're too embarrassed. you acted like a crazy person, and said awful, horrific things. and you're pretty sure he'll never forgive you. but what will you do then? how will you build a life without him? oh god, you're crying again. great, just great, you think as you turn around in your bed. who were you without him?

\\\\

its the sixth day of his absence when you go talk to steve. you drag yourself from your bed, with your swollen and red rimmed eyes and knock on his door.

“y/n…” he tells you, pity dripping from his tone.

“hey…” you try to give him a fake smile, but as soon as the corners of your mouth move, they turn downwards into a frown, and you start crying. sobbing really. inconsolable sobs leave you as steve wraps you up in his arms.

“hey, hey, it's okay.”

“no, it's not! i hurt him! i don't know why i did it, but i did!” you sob.

“hey,” he pulls away from you a bit to look you in the eyes, “come in. come on, come on.” he tells you as you slowly make your way inside.

you sit down on the edge of his bed and he sits down next to you.

“steve, is he- is he okay?”

he looks at you. you know him, so you know that that look means he isn't.

“he's safe though.”

“i really messed up.”

“i know.”

“he told you?”

“he didn't need to. i saw it on camera. wanted to know why the elevator stopped working for a while.”

you put your head in your hands and begin sobbing again.

“oh my god.” you sob. “i-i'm so sorry you had to see that. i dont… i dont know what-” a hiccup escapes you. “i can't-” another hiccup. “oh god…” your shoulders shake as you sob into your hands.

“hey…” he draws comforting circles on your back, but nothing can comfort you. not when he's hurt and hates you and it's all your fault. “hey.”

“steve, how can i fix it? can i even-” hiccup, “can i even fix it?”

he looks at you with pity.

“i don't know, y/n. i think he's gonna need some time.”

“oh my god.” you say. steve had always rooted for you two, so if he's saying it can't be fixed it really means it can't. “i'm going to die.”

“you're not going to die.”

“i can't live without him. i can't.” you shake your head frantically. “please, just tell me where he is. i need to-”

“i dont think it's a good idea.” he tells you sympathetically.

“please,” you beg him, “please, i need to- if it ends…” more tears fall from your eyes. “it can't end like that. please. he deserves more than that.”

he looks at you, seemingly pondering what you're saying. you look at him the whole time, pleading. he sighs. he's going to tell you.

\\\\

you look at the old building that seems to be deteriorating with each passing second. you straighten down your clothes (steve insisted you get properly showered and dressed) and take a deep breath. he's staying at a safe house in brooklyn. of course. it was so predictable and so him, you almost decided to leave. maybe you should let it end how it ended. what if this time it was worse? but you didn't have the luxury to think like that. it was over, but you needed him to remember you as the good times you shared, not that damned last time.

you enter the building and go up the stairs to the seventh floor, since there is no elevator.

when you reach his door, a green one who looked like if you blew on it it would fall down, you freeze. what are you even supposed to say to him? hi, bucky, sorry i told you she wouldn't be able to put up with you, insinuating that you are hard to love, hope everythings okay between us! ugh, you wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

you take another deep, slow breath, because you know otherwise he'll be able to hear you. then, you knock two times.

when the door opens he takes your breath away. this time not because he's gorgeous but because you're so scared that you fear you're going to pass out.

“what do you want?” he asks harshly. you feel tears prick your eyes but you blink them away.

“hear me out, please.”

“no, thank you.” he goes to close the door, but you swiftly get inside before he does. he slams the door behind him when he turns around to look at you, now inside the apartment, looking uncomfortable and out of place. “i told you i didn't want to hear you out.”

“just-”

“leave.”

“one second-”

“leave, y/n.”

“bucky-”

“oh, so now i'm bucky?” your lip wobbles.

“you're always bucky.”

“not last time we talked.”

“that's why i'm here.” he lifts his chin, looking at you with so much indifference you wonder if he ever looked at you with love in his eyes.

“i don't care to hear you explain yourself.” a tear escapes your eye. you dry it with your sleeve harshly. his face seems to soften for a second but then it goes back to its harshness.

“i'm not here- i'm not here to explain myself.” he looks at you.

“why are you here then?” you sigh.

“remember that time you took me to feed the ducks on that park?”

“yes. so?”

you smile softly as tears fall down your face.

“that was the time i told you i wanted to be your girlfriend. no one ever took me to such a silly date.” you chuckle softly. then you frown in pain looking at the floor now. he shifts his weight from one feet to the other, impatient.

“what's your point?”

“that's how i'd like you to remember me.”

“what?” you look at him. he's frowning.

“i know that the last time we talked i was… crazy. i just- i know theres no going back, but id like, for the sake of what we had, for you to not remember me like that.” you tell him. “because we were more than that.” the last word comes out broken to give way to a silent sob. you try to compose yourself. “I'm sorry. don't pay attention to that.” you give him a fake smile, which you know he can see right through.

“y/n-”

“okay, i'll leave. but… come back to the compound. i'll move out if you want me to, just, don't stay away from your friends just because of me.” you go to leave, walking past him, when he grabs your arm. when you turn around there are unshed tears in his eyes.

“i don't care about the compound. or about remembering you.” oh. you widen your eyes and heavy tears leave them.

“okay, i'm- i'm sorry for suggesting-”

“no.” you nod, understanding. “no, no.” he repeats. he grabs you by the shoulders and he crouches so he's eye level with you. “i don't want to have to remember you.”

you frown.

“but, bucky-”

“but i probably should.” he cuts you off.

“yeah,” you laugh humorlessly as you cry. “you should. i'm sorry. i never should've come here. i'm sorry.”

“stop saying sorry and explain to me what the hell happened.” you tilt your head.

“i… i got jealous.”

“that's it? that's why you hurt me?” he asks. you look down. this was it. he was giving you a chance. explain yourself like you never have before, you think to yourself.

“i never got why you were with me-”

“stop saying were. this could end today, but as of now, were still together.” you purse your lips. “hey, hey, its okay.” he says softly as he puts his hands on your cheeks and wipes the tears that begin falling again with his thumbs.

“im sorry-” he looks at you pointedly. you nod. “i just… i don't understand why you're with me. im not- im nothing like you.” you begin. he frowns. “you are kind and thoughtful and amazing and im- im not good like you.”

“what? y/n, you're the best person i know.”

“you can't still think that.” he looks at you honestly. he does? “see? you're so- and i'm so…”

“lets sit down.” he tells you and you both do, on the old couch thats near the window. he gestures for you to continue.

“i just- you'll never get it. and thank god you won't. but im not- im not a natural, you know? not like you, not like her.” you fidget with your hands. “you guys, the team, you like me because i'm fake. you wouldn't if you knew the real me. but i showed it to you pretty easily, i guess.” you laugh without a trace of humor. he frowns. then, he grabs your hand and caresses your knuckles. bucky takes a deep breath before speaking.

“y/n, i like- no, scratch that. i love you because i know you.” your face contorts in pain. you start crying heavily again. “hey, hey, come on baby, talk to me.”

“i just… she's so… perfect. for everyone, for you.”

“i don't want her, i want you.”

“you cant want me after what i said to you. i hurt you and i'll never forgive myself for that.”

“yes, you hurt me. but you were hurt too, i just didn't see it.”

“im so scared you'll wake up one day and realize there is so much more to the world than… me.” you sob and cover your face with your hands.

bucky pulls your hands away from you face and pulls you into his lap.

“listen to me.” he tells you firmly. “there is nothing more to the world than you. you are it for me, y/n. i love you.”

“bucky-” you hiccup. “i'm so sorry i said that about you. i promise you i just said it to you because i- i was lashing out. anyone would accept and love you, you are literally the most amazing-” hiccup, “person-” hiccup, “in the universe.”

he smiles softly at you and the unshed tears come back, but this time, he lets them fall.

“baby, listen to me. i love you. i'm not going anywhere.” you open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it. “and i forgive you. i promise you i don't resent you. i know what it's like to lash out when you're hurt.”

“bucky-” you sob against his chest.

“shh, baby, its okay.” he soothes you, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “it's okay, i got you.”

you take a shuddering breath and lift your head from his chest to look at him. you grab his face with both your hands.

“i promise you i'll never lash out again. im so sorry. i-” he gives you a pointed look. “i know. im not saying sorry anymore. sor-” you purse you lips and he lets out a laugh. then, he shakes his head incredulous and looks at you with so much adoration in his eyes you feel like you're going to pass out from all the love you feel for this man. “can i kiss you?” you ask him shyly.

“please.”

and so you do. the kiss is soft, vulnerable, you're telling him how sorry you are, how much you love him, and thats when you remember you didn't say it.

he whines when you pull away, something that makes you smile.

“bucky,”

“yeah, baby?”

“i love you. so much i feel like i'm going to throw up.” he lets out a loud laugh.

“i love you more, doll.”

you spend the rest of the day cuddled up on that couch in that old apartment, not ready to go to the compound yet. but you do send a text to steve before turning off your phone to spend time with the love of your life. you almost lost him, but you didn't, and as you lay in that old mattress on the floor, while he makes love to you and whispers of words of adoration and devotion fill your ears, you vow to him one thing. you'll always be his.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #mcu x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut

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sebsbarnes · 3 months

Text

phantom pain || pietro maximoff

pietro maximoff x reader

summary: i'm jealous of the rain that falls upon your skin, it's closer than my hands have been

warnings: insecurities, none really?? (i think)

word count: 2.9k+ ; angst, comfort

masterlist

a/n: this is a rewrite of a bucky fic i wrote 6 years ago but now much longer, better, and for pietro. sorry for grammar/editing mistakes that are prob here but still enjoy

pietro knew you had been hiding something. he had known you for three years and had been dating you for almost two. over the course of the months and weeks spent with the other he had grown accustomed to your silent cues. the silence that would consume you when tony's party carried on too late and you desperately wished to exit or when you performed poorly during training and steve berated you with tips. but mostly the silence that would linger around you when you were alone. not all the time, no, but there were times when pietro could feel and see the physical shift in your body language.

he never wanted to pry not as a friend or a boyfriend. pietro understood that every avenger has a past life, one that the others are unaware of. though he loved playing back the memories of his childhood and his parents, he too would shift into a silent shell of a person and he would want nothing more than to be left alone and not questioned. pietro loved the abilities he had but some days he wondered whether the extreme heat of his body or the slow-moving world around him actually made him sad. life was no longer normal, his body was no longer normal, nothing was normal.

this is exactly how you felt. the tragedies in your life were sometimes unbearable and if you could disappear you would but you had so much to be thankful for. if it wasn't for the accident you wouldn't be an avenger, you wouldn't have the friends you have, you wouldn't experience even half of what you've had now, and you wouldn't have pietro, the love of your life. at the end of the day you were alive and more than often, incredibly happy.

but there were those times you fell into silence over your newfound life, mainly the consequences of the accident. your memory still struggled, you were weak for a very long time, and when the weather got too cold you could feel the ache in your bones. you weren't like the rest of the avengers who possessed special abilities or were highly skilled in combat. three and a half years ago you were a normal person. you had a normal life, job, family, and friends, up until the accident. and every day the phantom pain reminds you of what was taken.

it was winter when you first met all the avengers. they all lived together and after you recovered from the accident, tony wanted you here, to live here. you protested the idea for a while claiming that tony's generosity was far too much. he had already saved you from the accident and offering a space to live and a job was incredulous, but after much debate you agreed. that first day you silently sat in the corner of the room while all the avengers had a meeting. you swayed back and forth in the rolling chair, taking in the information and occasionally stealing glances at a silver-haired man.

"and this is (y/n)!," tony exclaimed, "our newest friend here so please for the love of god be kind during the acclamation period. i'm already prematurely greying and i don't need anymore."

the meeting was over and one by one the avengers came to greet you, offering their names and welcomes and soon the silver-haired man approached you.

pietro stuck his hand out to shake yours. he found it odd that despite the room being almost swelteringly hot from the heater, you still had your gloves on.

"i'm pietro."

it was about three weeks later you found yourself sitting with pietro, clint, steve, and natasha. everyone was sitting on the couch talking about whatever topic you possibly could conjure up. there was a lull in conversation before clint spoke up.

"hey," he said turning towards you, "why do you have gloves on?"

it was as if clint never spoke and without missing a beat you stood up, looking down at pietro, "wanna help me finish building my desk?"

pietro hesitated a moment, eyes flickering over to clint, "of course."

pietro had come to learn not to question why you covered your hands in those first few months. any mention of you hiding them was never met with an answer. he was protective of you and he felt himself falling for you each day, and you the same. the two of you did a lot together, you cooked, clean, went out, watched movies, almost everything together and you loved it. it felt like home here and pietro felt like home.

it was a big dinner, the night you finally took your gloves off. there was no special reason why, to be frank, you just decided to no longer be embarrassed.

"c'mon kid we all got something weird about us. i play in a suit all day, cap runs around in tights, pietro is faster than the speed of light, and parker shoots webs... from his hands!" tony ranted on.

you sighed, "i know. i just feel weird on top of this because i am still new here."

"we all have been new," tony started, inspecting your hands one final time, "no one will judge you, kid, but take it at your own pace. you don't owe anyone nothing. well, maybe except me," he winked.

only two hours later you were all seated at the big table with everyone to eat. from tony, to pietro, to thor, to natasha, to sam, everyone was here. next to you was tony and rhodey, pietro across from you pulling funny faces while the food was served out. you fidgeted with your fingers in your lap trying to stall picking up the fork and knife. everyone had started eating and chatting amongst the group when you finally lifted your arms to the table and started cutting into the chicken.

pietro watched as you shifted in your seat, your forearms coming to rest on the white cloth and your fingers wrapping around the fork and knife. the first time he has ever seen your hands.

your metal hands.

after that night there were murmurs throughout the crew about the state of your hands. people were confused why someone who led a normal life ended up with metal hands, similar to bucky's arm. the word accident had floated through the air but you never commented on it.

winter had turned into spring that ended all too quickly and now it was the dead of summer. the day was slow and pietro was bored and craving movement. his head was hanging over the arm of the couch, his silver hair hung to the floor.

"want to get ice cream?" he asked.

"it's like you read my mind," you grinned swiping your wallet off the counter.

you and pietro wandered around town aimlessly before stopping at the ice cream shop. he admired the way you threw your head back in laughter and the way you covered your mouth when he said something outlandish. even though pietro's body ran warm he could feel the increasing heat spread throughout his cheeks each time you shot him a smile and his name rolled off your lips.

in an instant, he thought he ruined it all when he reached out and wrapped his fingers in yours. he felt your fingers twitching and the way you misstepped.

"i'm sorry," accent thick as he retracted his hand.

you smiled softly at him before gently grabbing his hand, "don't be."

it was that day over a hot fudge sundae that you told pietro what had happened. it was a horrible car accident early in the winter before you met the avengers. there were several cars and buses involved. not only did you lose your hands that day but your family. tony was also in this accident, his car had actually collided with yours, though his vehicle wasn't the one that caused your injuries. he had rushed to help you and immediately took on a parental role when he observed the condition of everyone else in the car. you were bruised and bloody with several fractured bones, but mainly, every bone in both your hands were shattered beyond repair. tony took you to his doctors where you all came to the difficult decision that your hands had to go, but tony offered you a solution. to replace the once skin and bones with metal.

pietro listened the entire time letting you go on and on to which you apologized for being boring. 'no dragă' he would whisper and you continued on with his thumb running over your knuckles. the gesture comforted you but the voice in the back of your head nagged that it was out of pity.

the months began to fly past faster than you could imagine. you and pietro were inseparable. anytime the members walked past the two of you they'd fake gag or pretend to cry. once wanda had muttered under her breath how she never thought pietro would actually date someone. you would only get shy over it and pietro found it amusing and would pinch at your cheeks. it was only when the two of you officially started dating when pietro would notice the different type of silence you'd fall into.

he would sometimes catch you sitting on the edge of your bed staring at your hands the features on your face contorted with disgust.

"what is the matter?" he questioned.

"oh nothing," you sighed with a fake smile, placing your hands beside you.

or the times pietro noticed the way you hesitated before touching him.

"am i that scary dragă?" pietro joked with a sickly smile.

your features would soften and the lines between your brows disappeared, "the most terrifying," you winked.

or the times pietro saw the way you gazed at other people's hands when they came into contact with pietro.

"doesn't his hair look good like this?" wanda asked you as she finished braiding her brother's hair. the two of them looking at you in the mirror.

you didn't respond right away. you were too distracted watching the way her fingers weaved their way through his silver hair and grazed his scalp while pulling hair into its pattern. with the most pitiful smile, you responded.

"amazing."

pietro knew that eventually, you would confide in him over the way you viewed your hands. he didn't want to overstep, that wasn't the relationship the two of you had. the late nights pietro spent shaking under the blankets from nightmares, you never asked him. you held him close to you and hummed a small tune to calm him down and you did that every night without fail. one day over breakfast he finally confided in you over the terrors that haunted his dreams.

what pietro didn't expect was that today on your second anniversary was the day you would finally scream your frustrations out. the two of you weren't doing anything special and nor did you want to. all the avengers insisted you at least leave home and do something for a little while. that's why you found yourselves lazily walking around a park, hand-in-hand, arms swinging and shoulders bumping. the sound of laughter echoed through the park and you swore the leaves shook. you were happy, beyond happy. pietro and you were madly in love and there wasn't one thing you could wish for, maybe.

suddenly the wind picked up and the dark clouds rolled above and unleashed raindrops that were nearly the size of baseballs.

"oh my god!" you squealed.

"it is so cold!" pietro laughed loudly.

you were squinting through the pouring rain, your hair and clothes plastered to your skin, pietro was dancing around in a circle with his tongue out in hopes of catching the water. pietro grabbed onto your forearms pulling you into him.

"you look so cute right now," he yelled over the thunderous rain.

"don't be silly! i look like a mess!" you giggled slightly swatting at his chest.

pietro leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. his smile growing wider as if his mouth was a plant and the rain was helping it grow. his fingers brushed the hair out of your face and kissed you once more on the forehead.

"there's so many droplets on your lashes!" you exclaimed. pietro watched your lips pull into a smile. the sun wasn't out but he could've been fooled by the way your eyes shined at him. he watched as you lifted your hand to brush the droplets off, and then suddenly, it all changed.

pietro watched as your smile dropped into parted lips of disgust and shame, your eyebrows pulled together in the middle, and rain was no longer the only thing running down your face. you faltered in your step backward and pietro reached out to steady you but you pulled back further. it was like you were a toy and your batteries had just run out you were so still.

"b-baby what is wrong?" the worried etched onto his face was almost painful.

"i'm jealous," you cried, your bottom lip shaking violently.

pietro shook his head, "my love what is going on? you are worrying me."

you lifted your hands in front of your face, your eyes trailed down every finger and across your palm to the back of your hand. the small metal panels almost mocking you as you could see your eyes reflect back at you. at this moment pietro started to piece together all the instances in the past.

"i can't feel you," you wallowed, "i can't feel your skin, pietro. my hands!" he watched as you stretched your arms out to show him your hands as if he'd never seen them before.

"i'm envious of everything that can feel you! the rain, your clothes, everyone else, but not me, i can't! do you know how badly i want to feel the texture of your hair or the tears you cry or-or the skin on your lips and i can't! i crave the feeling of you and i'll never get to know that. i want to feel the plastic of a pen or grass between my fingers or the calluses of training too hard and i'll never get that again. the phantom pain i have will never be as painful as never being able to hold you with my real hands."

as your cries grew louder the storm cleared up to let you have the stage. you stood in front of pietro as the shell of the person he would see those times you were alone silently observing your hands. even though he wasn't the one yelling, he felt as if his own vocal chords were being shredded, he could feel the chambers in his heart slowly start to shut down one by one, and the burn in his eyes was almost blinding.

he slowly stepped towards you cautious not to make you jerk backwards again. the tears in each of your eyes seemed to sync up and roll down together. pietro gently grabbed your hand, grateful that you let him, and held it to his cheek.

"this, my love, this is me. this is the me that only you will know and no one else. it is not the same as everyone else but different much like us," he said gently, his other hand gesturing between your bodies, "if i could do anything in the world, no matter the cost, to help with your hands i would and i am so sorry i cannot," pietro was now holding your face in his hands.

"but i want you to know i love you for everything that you are and i always will. no matter what the future has in store for us, in my heart, you will always be first. and- and i know there are other reasons why you dislike your hands but i never want to be the reason that you dislike something about yourself. maybe i can talk to mr. stark, yeah?" he pondered nodding his head rapidly, "maybe we can figure something out and give your hands an upgrade. maybe he knows someone?"

you sniffled, looking lovingly at pietro who was trying to think of any possibility even though you both had discussed in the past that there was nothing that could be done for your hands. that day tony saved you was the best opportunity you could get to help your hands and nothing in the world could beat it.

"i love you so much pietro, you are everything i could ask for in a boyfriend and more," you spoke, resting your face further into his hands.

pietro ran his hands across your shoulders and down your arms to hold onto your wrists. he brought your hand up to his face and placed a delicate kiss to your fingertips until all ten were loved. pietro pulled you into a hug, one palm resting flat against your spine and the other holding the back of your head. you leaned into his chest and let your ear listen to the thump of his heart. the two of you stood there motionless. minutes passed by and neither of you dared to move. to an unobservant eye, you two could've passed as a statue. two lovers forever memorialized in the dusk of the sky, the rain puddles collecting at your feet, and a love story forever admired over.

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marvelavengerspovs1 · 22 days

Text

Rest

Pairing: Bucky x F!reader

Warnings: No warnings, just fluff!

Length: 725

Summary: Bucky takes care of you while you have a migraine.

A/N: This was a request, which is the perfect excuse to say that my requests are open!

Request: “Can you write one where Bucky takes care of the reader when they have a migraine”

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

Bucky knows you better than you know yourself. He knows when you’re getting sick, he knows when you’re about to start your period, hell! He even knows when you’re having a bad day before you know it.

It could be because he’s a trained assassin, made to be very observant. Or it could be just because he is the world’s best boyfriend. Either way, he lives to make sure you are taken care of.

As you sit in the meeting room listening to Tony and Steve explain the next mission, you feel a pang behind your left eyeball. You let out a small sigh and rest your head on your hand, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself. You feel a hand on your left knee and slightly look up.

Bucky looks at you with his eyebrows scrunched in concern. His face was asking if you were ok. You give Bucky a small smile and grab the hand on your knee. Bucky isn’t convinced that you are ok but he didn’t pry, he just made sure to hold your hand tight.

Once the meeting is over, you try to stand up but wobble. Bucky quickly gets up to help but you put a hand out to stop him.

“I’m alright Bucky, I’ve just been sitting down for too long.” You give him a tight lip smile.

“You’re not alright Doll, I’m pretty sure you’re getting a migraine.” Bucky looks at you with concern.

“I’m alright. I’m just going to take a nap before we have to go train.” You tell him before leaving for your shared room.

Bucky follows behind you to make sure that you are fine. He knows your migraine symptoms but he also knows you’re too stubborn to do anything about it.

You sit on the bed and look at Bucky. He’s sitting on his side of the bed, watching you. You roll your eyes and face away from him.

“I’m fine Bucky, you don’t need to worry about me.” Bucky lets out a sigh and leaves the room.

He knows that once you get up you’ll get nauseous, you won’t be able to look at anything that has a screen or is too bright, and you won’t be able to see anything clearly. While Bucky loved that you were stubborn, he thought that it was your downfall.

Not wanting to fight with you, Bucky stays silent and watches you as you fall asleep. He listens for your breathing to even out before getting up. Bucky knows that you are going to be miserable when you wake up so he wants to make sure that he can make you feel better instantly.

Bucky grabs you some migraine medicine and your favorite blanket. His heart hurt that you wouldn’t be able to watch your favorite movies or listen to any music but he knew that you would fall asleep right after.

While going back to your room, he made sure to fill up your water bottle with ice-cold water and prepped a mug of hot chocolate. You would feel too sick to eat but a comforting beverage would help you fall asleep.

10 minutes after you fall asleep, you wake up. You let out an agonizing yelp and cradle your head.

“It’s ok, Doll, I got you.” Bucky quickly comes to your side with the water and medicine.

You thank him as you take the medication and cradle your head, feeling tears well up in your eyes. No matter how many times you get migraines, you refuse to acknowledge the symptoms.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You tell him quietly, your eyes closed.

“Don’t cry, Doll. You’re too beautiful to waste your crying on some stupid migraine.” You laugh at his words but immediately regret it.

“Will you lay with me?” You ask him with your arms out.

“Of course Doll, you never need to ask.” Bucky gets under the covers and you lay your head on his chest.

Bucky rubs your back and you wrap your arms around his waist. It’s moments like this that you fall more and more in love with this man. He would hang the moon and the stars just for you.

“Just rest Doll, I’ll take care of you.” He tells you and you fall back asleep, the comfort of the man you love making it easy.

#avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff

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wandanatsgf · 2 months

Text

Scream

Pairing: Serial Killer!Natasha x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: After the gruesome murder of your fellow classmates, Jean and Charles, everyone is on high alert. The police tell everyone to stay inside, but your friends decide a party is just what you all need. It's not like the killer will be there, right?

Warnings: This is very lightly based off of scream, but I obviously changed things and made it my own. This contains killing, kidnapping, knife kink, blood licking, mommy kink, restraints, slapping, degradation, praise, knife fucking (the handle), thigh riding, noncon, finger sucking, cum eating, dacryphilia, and fingering. I think that's everything, but I might have missed something. I wrote this in an hour so please ignore any mistakes. This is also my first time writing something dark, so I hope you enjoy :)

"Come on baby, are you sure you don't want to go to the party?" your girlfriend asks you as you sit on some benches outside. "It'll only be us, Wanda, Tony, Steve, Bucky, Sam, Carol, and Vision."

"Yes, Natasha I am. I don't want to get killed," you explain for the umpteenth time.

"Please baby. I'll be there to protect you." Your girlfriend flexes her muscles as she says this. You let out a little laugh, although your girlfriend's gun show has got you a little hot and bothered.

"Fine Natty. I'll go but you better protect me." Your finger digs into her chest slightly as you point a finger at her, trying to get your point across.

"Don't worry baby. I'll always protect you," she says. She leans in and kisses you on the lips and you reciprocate.

"I'll see you tonight then," Nat says.

"I guess you will," you say. You both walk off to class, walking together until you have to go opposite ways.

Once you get home you quickly get ready for the party. You throw on a short dress and some heels before walking out the door. The drive to Tony Stark's mansion, where the party is being held, is quick. You're there before you know it. You park your car next to your friend's cars and walk inside.

"Hey Y/n you made it!" your friend Bucky says.

"Yeah I did. Natasha actually convinced me to go. Speaking of her have you seen her?"

"I did earlier. She's around here somewhere, but I'm not sure where."

"Thanks Buck," you say. You make your way around the house in search of you red-headed lover.

You search everywhere for her when you finally see her coming out of the garage with a bottle of wine in her hands.

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you," you say.

"Sorry baby. I just needed another drink," she says.

"What happened there?" you ask, pointing at the red stain on your girlfriend's shirt.

"Tony got a little too drunk and spilled some wine on me."

"Of course, he would do that," you say, laughing at his drunken antics.

"Come here princess." Natasha pulls you against her with one hand while the other holds her bottle. She presses a kiss to your lips and she tastes like the wine she has been drinking.

"Come here baby. I wanna dance with you," Natasha says. She pulls you against her body with one hand while the other holds on to her bottle. Your hips move together to the beat. You feel yourself get lost in the music until a scream breaks you out of your trance. You look around to see the source of the scream when a white-faced Carol emerges from the bathroom. Everyone gathers around to look, and the sight makes you sick. Wanda and Vision are laying in the tub, dead. They both have stab wounds right to the heart, they stood no chance.

"Oh my god," you let out. You can hear someone throwing up in the background and you're unsure if it's from the alcohol or the sight before you.

"We need to get out of here," you here Sam say. He tries the front door, but it won't budge. You all run to the back door and that too is stuck.

"Guys we're trapped," Tony says. You could've heard a pin drop.

You can hear Bucky start to freak out, and you don't blame him. You're starting to freak out too.

"What are we going to do Nat?" you ask your girlfriend.

"We just need to find a way out," she says. "We should split up and try all the exits. All the windows, doors, everything."

"Are you sure that's safe Natasha?" Carol asks.

"What choice do we have? It's that or wait for the killer to attack."

"She has a good point," you hear Steve say.

"We'll split up. Carol and Sam try the garage. Bucky, Tony, and I will try upstairs, and Natasha and Y/n can try down here," Steve says. Everyone agrees, although some reluctantly, to the plan.

As you and Natasha explore the ground floor, you hear a loud thud come from upstairs.

"What was that?" you ask.

"I'm sure it was nothing baby," Natasha says, trying to soothe you.

"I'm scared Nat. I don't wanna die."

"Hey you're not gonna die baby. Remember what I said? I'll be here to protect you, okay?"

"Okay Nat," you agree.

The two of you continue to hear more thuds coming from upstairs, making you jump more and more.

"I'm going to go see if everything's alright with them," Natasha says.

"But what about me?" you ask.

"Stay in here," Natasha says, leading you to the pantry.

"I'll be right back," she says. She closes the pantry door and leaves you in total silence. You hear someone let out a scream and then you hear someone fall down the stairs, you're praying it's not Natasha.

You can feel your breathing getting shallower as you start to freak out.

"Please let Natasha be alright," you think to yourself.

After what feels like forever Natasha reappears, covered in blood.

"Oh my god what happened?" you ask.

"He killed them all Y/n/n. He's crazy," she says.

"Who?"

"Steve. He killed Bucky and Tony. I don't know how Carol and Sam are." You can hear her breathing harshly.

"We need to get out of here now," you say. You walk up to the nearest window, praying it will open. You have no such luck.

"Damn it," you let out.

"Come on baby. We need to keep moving," your girlfriend says. "Let's go find the others," she says. The two of you cautiously move through the house, careful of every step you take.

The two of you eventually reach the garage door that leads from the house into the garage. Natasha puts herself in front of you as she opens the door. She lets out a gasp at the sight. Carol and Sam are laying there dead.

"Oh my god. This can't be happening," you cry out.

You can feel yourself start to hyperventilate. You run over to the garage door and pull at it, begging it to open. Natasha runs over and does the same, but nothing works.

"Come on baby we need to try something else," she says. The two of you leave the garage and you walk past the staircase. At the top of the staircase stands Steve, covered in blood with tears streaming down his face. The two of you make eye contact and you bolt off towards the living room.

"We need to find some weapons or something," Natasha says as she joins you. The two of you start to search as you hear Steve's thunderous steps make their way down.

"I've got one," you say, pulling a gun out of a couch cushion. You knew that Tony kept weapons hidden throughout the house in case of intruders because of how rich he is. You have no idea how to handle the gun, but right now you can't be more grateful to have found it.

You aim the gun at the doorway just as Steve walks through it.

"What are you doing Y/n?" Steve asks.

"Stopping you, you monster!"

"I'm not the monster here Y/n, she is," Steve says, gesturing at Natasha. You don't know what to do, so you back away from both of them.

"Baby, you can't believe I'm the killer. He's the killer," she says, pointing at Steve. He has blood smeared down the front of his shirt and pants. He's holding a knife that drips blood onto the once clean hardwood floors. The evidence is stacked against him.

"I'm sorry," you say as you point the gun. It goes off with a loud bang and Steve is thrown across the room. His white shirt is quickly painted crimson as he bleeds out. Now it's only you and Natasha left to find a way out of this building.

You collapse on the ground. You can feel tears falling down your face. Natasha walks behind you and wraps her arms around your waist. You think the gesture is loving, but you're so wrong.

"Guess what baby? You chose wrong," Natasha says. That's when you feel the knife against your throat.

"I was going to cut this pretty little neck open, but I just can't do that to my pretty little baby," Nat whispers in your ear. You can feel yourself shaking and trembling.

"Now I just want to see you crying and screaming as I fuck you," she says. She lifts you up and takes you to a bedroom with you fighting the whole way there. She quickly ties you to the bed with your legs and arms spread.

"You look so beautiful like this baby. All spread out and vulnerable for me." You feel her gaze sweep across your body, and it makes you want to cringe.

"Now we need to get these clothes out of the way," she says. She drags the knife from the top of your dress to the bottom, quickly removing it from your body.

She stares at you while you're completely naked except for your white cotton underwear. "I bet you'd look so pretty covered in blood baby." You had just stopped crying, but this thought made you want to cry all over again.

"I think you'd like that though. You want me to hurt you, don't you princess?" You shake your head no begging her to just let you go, bot to hurt you, something Natasha doesn't like.

"That's not the correct answer baby." You feel the coldness of the blade as she drags it down your cheek. A little bubble of blood pools there, but Natasha is quick to lick it up.

"Let's try that again," she says. Natasha asks you the question again and this time you nod your head yes. This time Natasha seems pleased.

"That's my good girl. I knew you would," she says. Natasha moves to straddle your left thigh and you can feel the heat coming off of her fully clothed pussy. She starts to grind down on your thigh, letting out a low moan.

"You look so pretty below me baby," Natasha says. "But you'd look so much better with a red face and tears rolling down your cheeks." Before you have time to react Natasha slaps your cheek again and again. You can feel tears cascading down your face.

"That's it baby. Let them fall," Natasha says. She starts to grind against your thigh faster, her words coming out in breathy moans.

"You just look so pretty when you cry," Natasha says. She slaps you again and you start sobbing, unable to control yourself.

"There you go baby. Just like that," she says. She lets out a high-pitched moan as she cums against your leg.

"That's my good girl. Making her mommy so happy," Natasha coos. She gently cups your face and licks your tears away. "Such a good girl for me."

Natasha gets off of your leg and grabs her knife again. You feel yourself tense up at the sight. She walks over to the bed and settles herself so that she's on top of you.

"It's okay baby. You can scream, I don't mind," Natasha says as she drags the knife down your body. You want to scream and moan at the same time. This is so wrong, but god does it feel so good.

"Natasha," you let out.

"Yes princess?"

"Please," you beg. You're not sure if you're begging her to let you go or to fuck you.

"What is it baby? You want me to fuck this sloppy little pussy of yours? You want mommy to fuck you stupid?" She drags the knife further and further towards your core, leaving slight scratches wherever she went.

You feel your anxiety rise as the blade scratches your inner thigh.

"What's wrong baby? You don't like mommy showing you attention?"

"I-I love it mommy," you say, saying whatever you know Natasha would like.

"That's my good girl. I knew you would," she says. She cuts away your underwear, completely exposing you to her.

"Look at this wet little pussy," Natasha says. She scoops up your wetness with her fingers and shoves them into your mouth. You suck on them, hating that she had made you so wet.

"You're taking my fingers so good baby. Just like the good little whore you are." She pushes her fingers farther into your mouth and you start to gag. She roughly fucks your mouth until she is satisfied. She removes them from your mouth and wipes the excess spit on your pussy.

"I've got to get you warmed up for my knife baby," she explains. You go rigid, but Natasha pays this no mind. She shoves one of her spit slicked fingers into your core. You let out an involuntary moan at the intrusion.

"Fuck baby you're taking me so well," she says as she adds another finger. You feel a slight burn, but the burn is quickly overtaken by pleasure.

"Fuck mommy," you moan out.

"That's it baby. Take my fingers." She roughly fucks them in and out of your tight hole, paying your comfort no mind. She adds a third finger, and you cry out at the stretch.

"Fuck," you scream.

"That's such a good girl," Natasha says. "Doing so good for me."

You can feel an impending orgasm as she thrusts into you again and again.

"Mommy. I need-," she cuts you off by removing her fingers from you. You whine at the lost. She slaps you across the face.

"Good girls take what they are given," she says. "And you want to be my good girl, don't you?"

"Yes mommy," you let out.

"That's a good girl," Natasha says. She grabs her knife that she had discarded on the nightstand and grabs the blade with her right hand. She moves her hand down towards your core and slowly moves the handle through your slit.

"Please fuck me mommy," you beg. Natasha roughly pushes the whole handle into you in one thrust. You moan out.

"Your little pussy is just eating my fucking knife baby," you hear Natasha moan out. She continues to roughly fuck you as your moans get louder and louder. You can feel yourself clench around the handle as you get close.

"Please can I cum mommy?" you beg.

"Cum for me princess, cum all over my knife," she says. That's all it takes for her to send you over the edge. Your body shudders as a powerful orgasm makes its way through you.

"You look so pretty baby but now you need to clean up your mess." Natasha holds the knife up. You see blood dripping down her hand from where she was gripping the blade too tight.

"Come on baby clean my knife handle. Lick it clean," she says. She holds the knife handle to your mouth and you gingerly lick it up and down.

"That's it, baby. Lick the knife that ended your friend's lives." You can feel bile making its way up your throat. "That's my good girl," she praises. She sets the knife down and goes to untie your shaking legs. Once she unties your legs, she unties your arms but quickly ties your arms and thighs together after she slips a robe that she found over your nude body.

"Now come on baby, we've got to go," she says. She ignores the way you're trembling in fear as holds the knife to your back. She walks, more like drags, you down the steps and to the front door. Your steps are slow from where Natasha had tied your thighs together. Eventually she gives up and just picks you up.

She pulls a key from her pocket and opens the door with it.

The two of you walk outside as Natasha walks you to her car. She tries to push you in, but you don't budge.

"Get in the fucking car, Y/n." Her voice is sharp and leaves no room for disobeying, yet that's what you do.

"No," you let out.

"No?" she screams out. She grabs you by the hair and opens her car's trunk. She roughly shoves you inside and locks it, preventing you from getting out.

Natasha hops into the driver's seat and quickly pulls out of Tony's driveway.

You can tell she's speeding down the road and you soon realize why. You can hear siren's going in the other direction, the direction of Tony's house. She wants to escape and take you with her.

You move around the small trunk, trying to find a way out. Unfortunately there is no way out. You can feel all of your energy leaving you with every move you make. You can feel yourself starting to black out and you give in to the darkness, admitting to yourself that you'll never escape Natasha.

#natasha x reader smut #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #mcu #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #dark!natasha x reader #serial killer!natasha x reader

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denebolablack · 7 months

Text

Tony: I won't accept the use of any old-fashioned pet name to refer to me! I'M THE FUTURE-

Bucky: *Enters the room walk8ng directly to the fridge* Mornin' dollface.

Steve: *Following Bucks* Good mornin' sunshine.

Tony: *Giggles* Hi~

Nat:*Lifts an eyebrow*

Tony: They're a special case, Nat.

Bucky & Steve: *Smirk*

#Tony is an absolute fool for that pair of illegally hot super soldiers #In his defense they're fools for him too so~#Nat is so done with their shit #But she will allow it cause Tony giggling as a teenager is hilarious #Listening Tony's laugh is her Roman empire #they're family your honor #fight me #The Brooklyn's boys are absolutely jealous of their relationships #As rhey should #They better take care of Tony cause Nat can steal him from them without a second thought #oh no #i'm delirious #again #tony stark #tony stark has a heart #bucky barnes #iron man #steve rogers #winter soldier #captain america #stuckony #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #they're two dumbasses in love with a mastermind #To walk to the future you need to understand the past #and oh boy #Tony knows A LOT about the past #every detail of it #if you know you know

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stxrvel · 8 months

Text

hate is a strong word pt. 2

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

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +3k

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

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

part 1 ; part 3

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

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

It was a nightmare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you two hook up or something?”

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

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

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

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

Argh. Whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah, what about it?”

“You never told me what happened.”

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

“Did you two fuck?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It must have been awful.”

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

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

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

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

“Who could have done worst?”

Natasha and you answered without hesitation. “Ultron.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, doll.”

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

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

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

“You know I'd listen to you.”

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

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

God, you had to learn to control yourself more.

“As you wish, ma'am.”

God, how you hated it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes, that was one way of putting it.

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

Ah, yes, you definitely needed it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What's wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you so insufferable?”

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

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

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

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

Bucky suddenly flashed that sly grin you hated so much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, not again. I can't.

I can't even narrate it.

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

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

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

Until you heard him.

“I'm sorry,” Bucky spoke behind you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then I think I might give it a try.”

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

Oh no, what did you just do?

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

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buckyalpine · 2 months

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Bucky in blue pjs who is soft and shy and so cute but sometimes sleeps naked when it gets too hot - I really love a happy, cuddly, shy Bucky. I thought this was adorable, I refuse to not make you all think about it too:

Bucky who got the softest pair of baby blue pj's for his birthday and it's all he wears to sleep. It's his favorite thing ever. He blushed when he saw the letters JBB sewed on the inside; he has no idea who got it for him and he's happy to let it remain a mystery though he secretly hopes they're from you. He saw you sneaking a peek at the size label of his t shirt before scurrying off out the door.

He looks so cozy when he's lounging in them, usually tucked in some corner with a book, a glass of milk and some chocolate chip cookies. He was also given a new pillow; a firm one that wasn't too soft. At first he was reluctant to use it but now he can't go anywhere without it. Imagine how precious he'd look trudging around with it on a moving night because he's sleepy but he doesn't want to miss out either. He starts off awake but seconds later, his face is smushed into the pillow and he's softly snoring. You always make sure to tuck him in with the throw blanket and it never fails to make him let out a content little sigh. Him being a soft, shy little cutie is exactly why the next part is everything.

Him sleeping naked.

As the weather warms up, the AC is on full blast and thank god for Stark technology because it can get as cold as winter if needed.

However.

It wasn't perfect.

It conked out and it leaves everyone as grumpy as ever because no one can sleep and Tony keeps insisting he'll figure it out any day now. Everyone looks miserable except Bucky. He looks as happy as a clam coming down for breakfast in his favorite pj's.

"How on earth did you get any sleep Bucky?" You can't believe he looks so well rested, especially when he has the serum that keeps him extra warm.

"And you're in full on pajamas, you slept in that?!" Steve gawks from the side while you also continue to look at him curiously, his cheeks tinting pink.

"I-

What no one knows is Bucky sleeps naked as the day he was born when it gets too hot. His body did a decent job of regulating heat on its own but throwing off the extra layers didn't hurt.

Of course, he didn't want to tell anyone that part.

The part where when it gets too warm, he starts off by shucking off his shirt. Then eventually his pants. He could keep his boxers on but his door was locked and it just feel so freeing-

"Buck?"

"I slept fine!" He blurts out hoping you wouldn't pry anymore while his best friend stares at him suspiciously. He races out of the kitchen as soon as he has his coffee and he hopes to drop the subject.

But he isn't so lucky.

Because on a particularly exhausting night, he doesn't realize he didn't fully shut his door. You were on your way to your room, peeking in to say goodnight seeing as he hadn't closed the door yet but-

You squeaked seeing his perfectly toned ass, thighs spread apart, back muscles relaxed, all on full display, blinking frozen on the spot before quickly slipping out of his room and shutting the door behind you.

You're beyond giddy for the rest night, unable to shake the image of a very naked, sleeping Bucky out of your mind; his pretty face relaxed, the gentle snores, his meaty legs, his cute butt-

stop.

You will yourself to think of something else but how could you when he looked so perfect. The next day Bucky notices you acting jumpy around him while making breakfast which is unusual for you...

"Everything okay, y/n?" He asks so gently and you nearly melt on the spot, biting back a smile.

"I-I came by your room to say good night, thought you were still awake" You shrug, eyes flicking to his before looking back down at your feet, letting him piece together what you were hinting at. His brows furrow before his eyes grow wide, cheeks flushed down to his neck and up to his ears. You could have sworn you heard him squeak when he stammers out a response. Barely.

"Oh-I-when-what time did you come" He has no idea what you saw or didn't see but either way he knows you know. He hadn't even bothered with clothes the night before going right from the shower straight to bed, fuck what if you didn't want to speak to him again-

"I see why you're able to sleep so well now. It's our secret" You throw him a wink, giggling before running off and Bucky nearly faints himself, he thought he couldn't possibly fall in love more but-

Anyway idk what's wrong with me, my mind has been off the deep end somewhere.

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thefallennightmare · 11 months

Text

Envy-one shot

Pairings: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1119

Warnings: angst, swearing, drug/drinking references, fluff, and a bit of implied smut.

Summary: There's a new bartender at Bucky's club which almost spells disaster for reader and Bucky's relationship.

Authors Note: Someone requested this like over a month ago and I'm finally finding a few minutes to write something up, so whoever requested it I hope you like it! Sorry for yet again making Natasha the bad guy.

The music was loud, echoing off of the brick walls of the club as I maneuvered my tiny frame through the sea of bodies that were pressed against one another. It was a typical Saturday night, everyone in Brooklyn had shown up for either drinking their sorrows away or hoping to get a glimpse of him knowing that he would be the answer to whatever problems they needed help with. I knew that it was a long shot because he rarely was seen out on the main floor of his club. He strictly stayed in the back, watching everything from afar.

“Hey, Y.N. Where’s Barnes?”

I came to a halt while crossing my arms over my chest and raised a brow at the man that sat in the usual stool.

“Tony Stark. I thought you said that your standards were too high for Buchanans?” I reminded him.

Tony shrugged while taking a large swig of his beer. “Your boyfriend has a great place, what can I say?”

“Fiancé,” I corrected him.

The large diamond from my ring shined bright underneath the lights that were being projected from the DJ booth.

“So,” Tony set the beer on the bar behind him. “Can I get a few minutes to sit with him? I’ve got a great business idea that would be perfect for his mob group.

I shook my head. “Bucky doesn’t like walk-ins. Call Sam to make an appointment.”

Ignoring his protest, I walked to the other end of the bar and gave a small smile to the new bartender who looked a bit flustered. I knew that anyone's first night at a new job would be nerve wrecking especially here at Buchanan’s. It was known as THE hot spot in Brooklyn, everyone wanted to come here but spent the majority of the night waiting in line, hoping it would be their moment. There was a very strict guest list here and Bucky would never deter from it.

“Hey, can I get Mr. Barnes drink please?” I gave her another smile.

The bartender, Natasha, raised a brow at me while halting making the current drink.

“I didn’t receive Bucky’s order,” she said with a hint of attitude.

I bit the inside of my cheek to do my best to keep my own attitude at bay.

“Mr. Barnes,” I corrected her.

There were only a select few that could call him Bucky; me and Steve.

Natasha rolled her eyes before popping open a beer bottle and sliding it over to me.

“$7,” she said flatly as I was about to walk away.

I scoffed. “Put it on his tab.”

“I was told that whoever picks up Mr. Barnes drink needs to pay,” Natahsa stressed out his name.

“This isn’t worth it,” I mumbled to myself and went to walk away yet again.

It was when I felt her hand on my wrist that I stared at it with pure anger flashing in my eyes.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I seethed and yanked my hand away.

Nataha’s eyes sliced into me. “Who do you think you are that you can walk away without paying?”

I held up my left hand, the large diamond glimmering in her eyes. “I’ll let this one-time slide but if you question who I am or touch me again, I’ll make sure you never work anywhere in Brooklyn again.”

There was a small group of people staring at us, wondering if a fight was about to break out, but there were a certain set of eyes that I felt burning at the back of my head that made my entire body tingle.

I peeked over my shoulder and saw Bucky leaning into our booth, the sight of him being seen out for the first time in a while. No doubt he received word about my and Natasha’s exchange of words. And with the way his eyes dropped away from me, a deep breath falling from his lips I knew that he was disappointed.

With a snap decision to drop this conversation, I turned my back to Natasha and made my way towards Bucky.

“Don’t even say it,” I warned while sitting next to him.

Bucky sighed. “How many bartenders are we going to have to rehire because of you?”

I snorted a laugh. “Maybe if they learned their place then I wouldn’t have to show it to them.”

The fast-paced beats of the music pounded hard against my chest as I leaned deeper into the cloth booth, the heat radiating off of him. With his arm wrapped around me, I stared up at the soft features of his face, the freshly buzzed haircut of his suiting him just right.

I pressed my lips onto his, Bucky’s tongue not wasting any time in exploring every crevice of my mouth. My moan was muffled by him as his fingers slid underneath my skirt and ghosted over the slit between my legs.

“So wet for me already, doll,” Bucky groaned while burying his face into the crook of my neck.

Our actions went unbothered by anyone in the club, they all were too busy with drinking or snorting whatever drug had been smuggled inside.

“Excuse me, Bucky?”

Rage boiled when I heard her scratchy voice and Bucky reluctantly pulled away, eyes landing on Natasha who was leaning on the table in front of us. Her breasts were exposed by her low-cut shirt.

“It’s Mr. Barnes.”

I chuckled silently at him correcting her.

She mocked sorrow by nodding. “I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes. But there’s someone at the bar asking for you.”

We noticed Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers leaning up against the bar which only meant one thing; Bucky was needed somewhere pronto.

“I could walk you over there if you’d like,” Natasha said. “I know how crazy it can get in here when people see you.”

Bucky ignored her and placed a deep, loving kiss upon my lips. “Don’t wait up for me, Y/N.”

I scratched at the back of his neck, his sweet spot, and saw his eyes flutter shut at my touch.

“We both know that I always do,” I said.

“Mr. Barnes?” Natasha tried again while pushing her breast together. “Would you like me to walk you over there?”

The low rumble of annoyance in his chest was only heard by me as Bucky stood from our booth. “Get back to the bar, Romanoff and don’t leave unless I say it’s alright.”

With her tail tucked between her legs, she scurried back to the bar.

Bucky went to walk away but I linked my fingers with his vibranium ones. “Be careful.”

With a few peppered kisses over my palm, he nodded. “Always, doll.”

#bucky barnes #mob!boss bucky and yn #bucky barnes x reader #mob!boss bucky barnes and reader #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes request

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holylulusworld · 3 months

Text

Flowers (2) - Snapdragon

Summary: Snapdragons symbolizes deception and deviousness.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of FWB arrangement

Catch up here: Flowers (1) - Sunflower

Flowers masterlist

For the next few days, you avoided Bucky like the plague.

Finally, your stealth skills came in handy. Whenever you got a glimpse of him, you ran for the hills.

You needed time to get over him - or rather to get rid of him.

You started with cleaning your room. Throwing away the sheets you made love on and ending with scrubbing the whole place sparkling clean. Only stopping when Jarvis assured you every trace of Bucky’s DNA got removed.

The next step was to convince Maria Hill, the woman in charge when it came to missions, to not set you up for missions with Bucky any longer.

You didn’t have to explain anything to her. Maria has a sharp mind and is a skilled observer. She knew something was wrong the moment you stepped inside her office. Unlike Fury or Tony, she understood what you are going through.

At least you had one confidant within the organization not telling you Dot is nice or that Bucky only tried to find a new friend.

Almost a week had passed before your luck left you and you ran into Dolores. She had a big grin on her pink lips too, and dared to giggle as she walked past you.

It really wasn’t your fault she tripped over your foot and ended up on the floor, bruising her face and pride. Why did she have to stare at her phone instead of watching her step?

This time, you chuckled and walked past her. Maybe Bucky would lend her a hand and help her back up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky blankly stared at his best friend. “Y/N always accompanies me on missions! I know something is off with her. She avoided me for a few days, but I thought it was because she needed some alone time.”

“Y/N doesn’t want to be on your team any longer,” Steve sighed, long and exasperated. “Buck, did you do something wrong? Did you and Y/N get into a fight? She seemed angry and avoided talking to me not days ago.”

“Steve, what are you talking about? We didn’t fight. All I know is that Y/N avoids me like the plague. Until today, I believed everything was just fine.”

“I’m sorry to tell you, but you are dead wrong, Buck. You should talk to her. She didn’t go to Maria instead of talking to you for no reason.”

“Doll.” Bucky followed you hot on your heels, but you didn’t stop walking. “DOLL! HEY! Stop walking away from me.”

“Why?” You snapped at him. “I thought you were busy with some other girl.”

“What girl?” He dared to huff. “Y/N, stop walking away. I want to know what’s wrong with you. I had to hear from Maria Hill that you don’t want to team up with me any longer.”

“I only made things easier for you and your lovely Dolores,” you stopped in your tracks and turned around to glare at Bucky. “This way she can have your back on the upcoming missions or scratch it. Whatever you prefer.”

“I don’t understand a single thing,” he huffed and ran one hand down his face. “A few days ago, we had passionate sex. We made love and suddenly everything changed. You avoid me and don’t talk to me any longer. And now this.”

He wildly gestured with his hands, not understanding what was going on in your head.

“Yeah, a few days ago you didn’t give Dot flowers,” you sniffed and looked away. “A sunflower out of all flowers. I know we never put a label on what we had but how can you fuck me and give flowers to another woman not hours later?”

Bucky watches you turn back around to storm off. “What? I—it was only a flower,” he called after you.

You didn’t hear his next words because you ran along the hallways and blended him and his voice out.

“Baby doll! It was only a sunflower for her birthday. She said no one remembered her birthday. I wanted to make her feel welcome like you did with me.”

“Well, my friend,” Steve said as he stepped next to his friend. He placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and smirked, “I think you failed epically. You cannot give another woman flowers while making passionate love to another. You have to choose one.”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

#Flowers (2) - Snapdragon #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader

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tuiccim · 3 months

Text

Juxtaposition (Part 2)

Pairing: Mafia Boss Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2364

Warnings: Smut, Dom/Sub

Summary: Bucky Barnes is the boss of your city’s mafia. You are the sweet, shy woman who has fallen in love with a bad man. At least, that’s what everyone thinks.

A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby .

Part 1

You carried the bottle of scotch into the spacious bedroom of Bucky’s penthouse. He followed hot on your heels and watched as you set the scotch and a glass on the table next to the armchair sitting in one corner. You sat in the chair, primly crossing your legs, before looking up at Bucky standing before you. You hadn’t let him touch you in the car on the way to his home. You had felt exposed enough when Tony had barged in on you earlier and with Steve and Sam in the front of the car, you kept your distance. This only served to make Bucky itch with need.

You looked over him slowly, letting your eyes take in his long legs, thick thighs, trim waist, and broad shoulders. You licked your lips as your eyes finally met his. God, the things this man let you do to him. You were getting wet just watching the control he had now, waiting for your instructions.

“Take your jacket off,” you say, reaching for the bottle to pour yourself a glass.

Bucky slips the coat from his shoulders and places it on the valet stand. He looks at you, waiting for further instructions. You smile and praise, “Good boy. Now, strip. I want to see all of you.”

He removes his cufflinks and sets them on the valet with his jacket. The buttons of his shirt pop open as his nimble fingers work. After he removes his shirt, he goes to lay it over the valet as well but stops when your voice interrupts him, “Throw it on the floor.”

You watch as his shoulders stiffen. The man was meticulous and you knew the command railed against his orderly nature. Your breathing picked up when he complied with only a second’s hesitation. The undershirt he wears is discarded beside it.

Taking a sip of your scotch and setting it aside, you decide to mirror his movements. You reach for the hem of your dress, pull it over your head and throw it on the little pile. Bucky’s head whips around to look at you sitting in only a bra, panties, and heels. He takes all of you in as his cock hardens.

You dip a finger in your drink and bring it to your lips. Sucking the drops of scotch off, you look up at him through your lashes, “I don’t remember telling you to stop.”

His chest heaves as watches your mouth but he immediately reaches for his belt. His pants are thrown over the valet carelessly and his socks join the pile at his feet. Standing before you completely naked, you take a moment to look at his beautiful body. Your tongue itched to trail over every inch. Reaching behind you, your fingers deftly unhooked your bra and it joined your dress on the floor.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. Come here,” you incline your head to encourage him forward. When he stands directly in front of you, looking down with lust filled eyes, you touch the toned abs before trailing your fingers down his thighs. Your smile widens as you watch his cock jump at the near miss of your hand. You were tempted to lean forward and take him in your mouth, but you had bigger plans for that delicious cock. “Kneel.”

When he settled on his knees, you lean forward and reward him with a kiss, “Good boy. Would you like some?” You pick up the glass of scotch.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says and reaches for the glass.

Feigning him jostling your arm, you pour a small portion on your chest. His eyes follow the trail of liquid as it meanders down your breast and leaves a drop clinging tantalizingly to your nipple.

“Oh, dear. Now look at what you’ve done,” you say, narrowing your eyes and commanding, “Lap it up.”

Bucky’s lips are on you as soon as the words left your mouth. His tongue catches that teasing drop that had mesmerized him. He laps over the curve of your breast until the scotch has been cleaned away. Looking up at you, he waits. You smirk at his eagerness and tip the glass to splash more of the liquor over your breasts and down to your navel. His tongue follows every path making you moan. You allow the last bit of liquid in the glass to run from your navel to the front of your panties. He licks his lips, sucking the small pool from your belly button and then tracing the path down to your panty line. His tongue laps over the wet spot there and then travels lower until he’s nudging the spot over your clit, lapping at the fabric.

“I don’t think the scotch made it quite that far, Mr. Barnes,” you tease even as you grab his hair to hold him in place.

“There was a definite wet spot and I had to be sure, ma’am,” Bucky replies cheekily, mouthing at the spot.

Pulling his head away, you give him a stern look, “Are you being impertinent with me, precious?”

“I just wanted to be thorough, my love,” Bucky smiles.

Sitting straighter, you grip his hair harder, “Who?”

“Ma’am,” Bucky corrects himself.

“Get on the bed,” you push him away, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, moving quickly in hopes of appeasing you.

“Put them on,” you say as you stand, pouring another glass of scotch.

Bucky opens his bedside drawer to draw out the handcuffs you were referring to and locks one around his wrist. He wraps the short chain through the headboard before securing the other side. He was laid out before you, bare and beautiful. You felt a little light-headed as you studied his body. He was so damn sexy, especially his compliance with just a touch of cheek to keep it interesting. Raising the glass to your lips, you enjoy the feeling of anticipation that permeates the air. He’s nearly trembling with it.

“Would you like another sip, darling?” You motion to the glass.

“Yes, ma’am, please,” He whispers.

The glass almost makes it to his lips but you tip it just before making contact, allowing some to slip into his mouth but more to run down his chin and neck.

“Oops,” you whisper with no hint of remorse. You lick up his neck, pausing to kiss the dimple on his chin, and then meld your mouth to his. You indulge for a moment, enjoying the sensual slide of his tongue over yours. When you pull back, he releases a little groan that makes you smirk. “I’m still thirsty,” you whisper to him before pouring a splash of the amber liquid onto his chest. You swipe your tongue over his pec and tight nipple and are rewarded when he whimpers. You pour the remaining contents of the glass on his chest and watch as it meanders down the lines of his abs to settle into the deep v at his hips. You hum happily, your mouth watering in anticipation.

“Please,” Bucky groans. His cock was already erect, straining for attention. He wanted your mouth on him, for your tongue to follow the path of the liquid you’d just poured on him. To give him some relief from the raging hard-on he’d sported since you let him go down on you in his office.

“Shhhh, don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna clean you up,” you reassure him. You keep your word as your tongue dances over his chest. You lap at his nipples, trace the lines of his abs one by one, dip into his navel for a stray drop, and finally make it to his hip bone. Following the line of that v, you clean each bead of liquor from his skin. His breath catches as you pass over his cock, lips achingly close to the head before landing on the other hip and repeat the tongue bath you had given the other side. He was straining upwards, silently begging to be touched, and you felt such triumph that you could make the man so incredibly hard without having touched his cock. You lick around the base without touching, bringing a whimper from him. You lift up, hovering your mouth just above it while looking up at him.

“Please! Please, ma’am,” he moans the words out.

“Poor baby, you’re so hard. Your cock looks so fucking delicious,” you give the tiniest lick to the tip.

“Ohhh, fuck,” he whispers trying desperately not to move.

“I can’t decide if I want to suck it or sit on it,” you tease the head of his cock, swirling your tongue slowly around it. “Mmmm, how about I suck it and then sit on it? What do you want, baby?”

You were already lowering yourself to take him in your mouth more thoroughly when he cried out, “Suck it! I need it. Need your mouth on me.”

Slowly, you lifted your head. Disappointment colored your voice, “Oh, precious, you were so close.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, ma’am! Doll, please! I’m so hard it hurts. Please!” Bucky begs almost incoherently.

You grab his face, stare at him intensely, and say firmly, “Find your control.” Letting go, you lean above him, watching his face. When he finds his calm, you ask him the question that will decide how the rest of the night plays out, “What was the only correct answer?”

“I want whatever you want, ma’am,” Bucky looks into your eyes as he says the words. There isn’t rote in his voice or eyes, sincerity shines through. A true submissive giving himself over to his dominant.

You smile down at him, “You know I love you, right, precious?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” you whisper the word as you position yourself over his cock and sink down on him. “Fuck,” you rock your hips as you take him, reveling in every inch that slides in. His face is pure bliss, head thrown back and mouth open as if feeling the most sublime sensations of his life. Your mafia boss, the most feared man in the city, and he was wholly yours. The quiet little mouse who rarely dared to raise her voice above a squeak, had him under her thrall. It was a sense of power that made you elated, heightened your pleasure, and made you love him even more.

You ride him slowly, ringing out the pleasure from him, “You feel so good, baby.” Your hands wander over his chest as you lean forward to grind against him.

“Close. Can I, please?” Bucky requests your permission to fall over the edge.

“Not yet, Precious,” you pull yourself off of his cock. He whimpers at the loss and you move yourself up his body until you straddle his face. He immediately reaches for you with his tongue, dragging it over your cunt until he finds your clit. He laps at it as you ride his face. “Oh, fuck, I'm-, fuck!” You cry out as you come. You hold onto his hair while you allow the wave of pleasure to dissipate.

“Good boy,” you praise while moving back down his body. You line him up with your entrance and sink down on his cock once again.

“Oh, fuck. You’re killing me, doll,” Bucky moans as he thrusts up to meet you.

“Poor baby, but I can't help myself. This cock is just too fucking good.”

Bucky cries out brokenly as you ride him harder, barreling you both towards orgasm but just before he reaches the point of no return, you pull off of him again.

“Please, oh, God, please “ Bucky begs.

“Soon, baby, soon. But I just can't resist fucking your face again,” you straddle his head again and lower yourself onto his waiting mouth. He licks at you sloppily, flattening his tongue as you grab his hair and rock on top of him. You're sensitive and the glide of his tongue is so divine that you find yourself coming again quickly.

“Your mouth is just too fucking good, Bucky baby. But not as good as this cock,” you moan as you lower yourself onto him once again. You moan obscenely as he fills you, rubbing your hands over your body and riding him. After only a few seconds you pause, lean forward, and touch Bucky’s restrained hands. “If I release you, will you be good?”

“Yes, ma’am! Anything!” Bucky groans.

With a quick turn of the key, his hands are free and he looks to you for permission to settle them on your hips. You put your hands over his and guide them into place. Leaning down, you kiss him as you slowly move your hips. His grip on you tightens, the slow torture of your movements making him nearly feral.

“Bucky baby,” you say against his lips, “be a bad boy. Fuck me how you want right now. Make me scream. I'm all yours.”

In a lightning quick second, you find yourself on your back with Bucky on his knees. With a bruising grip on your hips, he slams into you. You arch into him as he ruts into you relentlessly. Your back arches as he fucks you, your whole body taut from the onslaught. He grunts with the effort and you know despite the brutal way he’s handling you, he’s holding himself back until you come one last time. It takes no time for you to get there, his animalistic response to you giving him free reign is intoxicating. You begin to shake and a few seconds later, a scream escapes as your whole body spasms. Bucky’s shout as he comes has you clenching around him even harder. He falls over you, holding himself up by his elbows as he catches his breath, your bodies still connected.

“Fuck, that was… that was incredible,” He whispers into your ear.

You smile as you kiss him tenderly. Rolling to your sides together, you snuggle into him, basking in the feeling of security in his arms. Knowing that he saw all sides of you, every facet, and still respected and cared for you made you so incredibly happy.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you too, doll.”

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wntrs0ldier · 9 months

Text

An Offer II: Safe Haven · 01

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 5,3k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), a/n: if you see any mistake, please, close your eyes,,

series masterlist

series summary: The ride was bumpy, but in the end, you got your husband. Your marriage gave you protection, and your new husband shared with you his life, his Family, his wealth. His demons and his enemies. Only time can show whether it was worth it.

Although his scent had managed to wash off, you loved walking around in that soft, far too large robe of his. Leaving the bedroom – where you hadn't even slept an hour together, let alone the whole night – you put one over your shoulders and tied the belt. And, as you do every morning, you went to the kitchen, which, in practice, was your shared kitchen; except that not at the same time. You prepared the coffee, and with a mug in your hand headed to the living room; you leaned against the entrance frame and fixed your gaze on the couch, or rather on the person occupying it – Jerry. This time you remembered the name. You lifted the mug to your mouth, but your lips did not come into contact with the bitter, hot surface of the drink.

Was there any limit to the amount of time you could miss someone who, given the short period of knowing them, shouldn't mean that much? And what could you be capable of to drown that feeling of abandonment?

A little more than a week was still missing and you could safely cross out the third month of Bucky's absence. This was not how you imagined the beginnings of your marriage, but you consoled yourself with the knowledge that it could have been much worse. On the other hand, it could also have been much better. To some extent, your life resembled the one you had led before your marriage and even before your father's death – you didn't have to worry about business; it was secure and had regained its former fluidity. Enough to calm Tony Stark down. You were able to concentrate mainly on your gallery, spend weekends with your friends or with Suzie. Everything went on with the old rhythm, with a few exceptions. You didn't date anymore, and turning down potential lovers came more easily to you. And you devoted Sunday afternoons and evenings to your new family – Winnifred would invite you to tea or dinner, and these activities became your marital duties. But you really felt more like a new purchase of the Barnes Family than a wife to Bucky – after all, you spent more time with them than with your husband.

But he still tried.

He called at least once every two, sometimes three days. You would have loved to call him every day, but you never did – you didn't want to disturb him, because you knew he was working hard. You heard how tired he was, so each time you asked him to get some sleep; you kept telling him that your day wasn't that interesting. But Bucky never relented – he claimed he liked listening to your voice.

Jerry twitched, opening his eyes, which automatically fell on you. For a split second, he seemed deathly terrified; you guessed that his mind sensed your gaze, and raised the alarm as a result. But Jerry was safe. At least for now.

“Did you sleep well?” You smiled slightly, perhaps a little meanly, then took a sip of coffee without dropping your gaze.

The young man immediately sat up and rubbed his face. “Oh God…” he gasped. “Don't tell Bucky. He’ll fucking murder me.”

“Don't worry. It can happen to anyone.”

“Has it happened to someone before me..?” he asked with hope.

You wrinkled your nose and shook your head, which made Jerry groan with dissatisfaction.

“Would you like some breakfast?” You raised your eyebrows.

“After something like that? No way, I'm out of here.”

You walked Jerry to the door.

“Please. I'm begging,” he said, almost hanging on the doorknob. “Don't tell Bucky. Don't tell anyone, because it will definitely get to him.”

You sighed heavily, holding back from rolling your eyes. It seemed to you that Jerry was exaggerating, but on the other hand he was white as a sheet, so you didn’t want to scare him more. “I won't tell anyone. I promise.”

“What..?” Connie stared at you with curiosity, and the fork on which she had scrupulously scooped one of each ingredient of her salad hung not far from her mouth.

As befits a wealthy wife abandoned by a husband absorbed in work, you had a lunch date with Connie and your two other friends, Victoria and Holly, who were close enough to you to know some of your secrets. As in the case of Connie, you didn't share with them all the details of your life, you didn't get them into the business you did, but they knew who you were. They also knew the character of your marriage; it was impossible to keep it a mystery when matters of the heart were an integral part of your conversations. And even if you could pretend that you and Bucky had something more in common – something by which people usually decided to take such a binding step as marriage – your girlfriends would have figured you out right away.

“Who’s Jerry?” Holly furrowed.

You couldn't remember if she was there when you mentioned him for the first time. However, you didn't have a chance to dig up this information in your head – Victoria rushed to explain: “He's some sort of bodyguard. Is that right?” She glanced at you, and you nodded.

Some sort of bodyguard was a surprisingly accurate term for Jerry and the rest of the boys. Since Bucky was away from home and unable to look after your safety himself, he ordered his men to do so. With that, you got to know a handful of Bucky's most trusted soldiers, and every evening one of them sat in a car parked outside your apartment, watching the building and its surroundings. Every morning one of them drove you to work, in the afternoons they escorted you home or wherever you pleased. You were never alone. Even now, sipping wine in a fancy pub, you were under the watchful eye of one of them; he was sitting a few tables away and going over the menu for the fifth time, glancing in your direction from time to time. He took a seat at the other end of the room to avoid being noticeable, but your friends were fully aware of his presence. Besides, they weren't the only ones; he was quite a flashy item in a restaurant filled mostly with women dressed in pastels and beiges.

“Are you still okay with that? All that following?” Holly continued.

“They don’t follow me.” You rolled your eyes, smiling lightly. It's not that you had been brainwashed into accepting the possessiveness or the desire to control your every move; you just understood what rules applied to your and Bucky's world. You also understood that your friends were not as aware, so your husband's security measures may have been deceptively similar to red flags. “Following someone tends to be done in secret from the person who is being followed, you know?”

“What's up with Jerry?” Connie interrupted. “Did you sleep with him or not?”

“No, of course not,” you calmly denied. But instead of continuing to speak, you paused for a moment – a memory popped into your head; a memory of Bucky's prettily pink, parted lips as he savored your wet warmth. You swallowed hard, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. “He slept. On the couch. Alone.”

“A bodyguard should sleep on the job..?” Holly asked doubtfully.

“In theory, no. But whenever I was able to forget Jerry's presence somewhere around, I heard sneezing or sniffling.” You raised your eyebrows. “I was afraid that if I left him in the car overnight, he would faint from a fever or something. I invited him inside, or rather convinced him to come in, and he fell asleep on the couch. That's it.” You shrugged.

“You shouldn't have done that,” Victoria said, her forehead creased in worry. “You shouldn't invite strangers into your apartment. What if he would hurt you?”

“Uh, that's not exactly what bodyguards do.”

The rest of your lunch followed the pattern repeated at every meeting you've had for almost the last three months. Your girlfriends expressed their concern toward your relationship, and then smoothly moved on to other topics. This time a party you had little idea about. Not because they didn't include you; you just didn't hear a word. Absorbed in your own thoughts, you completely disconnected yourself from the place and the company. You reflected on the fact that you spent far more time with them, and even with the previously mentioned bodyguards, than with Bucky. It shouldn't have affected you on the scale it actually did – you were purely business partners who happened to have sex a few times. But all those things you promised each other before he left...

On the one hand, they were somehow groundbreaking. On the other, they became blurred in this long separation. Besides…

Your eyes involuntarily rested on your hand. Despite being married, you still didn't have rings. You wore at least an engagement ring – an apparent sign of being taken, but Bucky? You couldn't be sure – away from home, away from New York, away from you – he wasn't taking advantage of the lack of a wedding band. Maybe he only called you in the evenings, drained, because his other life was consuming all his time and energy? You knew he couldn't be so vile to you, but maybe he was trying to protect you? Had he found someone in Italy and didn't want to break your heart? Maybe the bodyguards were not there to protect you, but to keep you from any potential surprise visit?

A sudden flash of sanity made you realize that you were becoming paranoid. You didn't have Bucky around; you couldn't look at him or talk to him freely, so you kept thinking about him. This, in turn, led you to newer and newer conclusions that you wouldn't normally even consider. Timothy got his way – he effectively punished you, because you were going through a living hell.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You were so deep in your own thoughts that you didn't even know who had spoken to you. All three – Connie, Victoria and Holly – were looking at you.

“Hmm?” you muttered, raising your eyebrows questioningly, although you could hear perfectly well what they wanted to know. “Oh, it’s… It’s nothing.” You shook your head with the abashed smile of someone caught in the act. “It's just... I miss him. Very much,” you said in order to justify your drifting away. You just didn't tell the whole truth; you didn't intend to torment your friends with your fears, because these were taken from panic, not a rational perception of things.

“Do you like him in that way?” Holly smiled provocatively.

Before you could explain that you would probably miss each of them just as much during such a long separation, Victoria cut you off again: “This is so sweet…” She almost melted. “Maybe you're not telling us something? Maybe you are at the boyfriend-girlfriend phase? Things like this can happen when two people are close. Even in a not-for-real-marriage, right?” She looked around at your faces for some confirmation of her words.

“I would know if we were at that phase,” you said immediately.

“Not necessarily. This phase is not always clear. Not all people ask directly about dating, like, you know, as a couple. Sometimes you just fall into it. Unconsciously and naturally.” Vicky shrugged.

A short silence settled over the table. You reached for your glass of wine, and, staring unseeingly at some random point, emptied the rest of the drink in slow sips.

“I'll see you this weekend?” you finally spoke.

“As always. But maybe you should invite Jerry this time?” Connie grinned with amusement, and you gently kicked her under the table.

“Are you okay?” Steve's voice filled the inside of the car.

“I won't throw up here, if that's what you're asking,” you answered, taking your eyes off the side window to look at him. Steve’s mouth curved into a slight smile.

You doubted that picking you up from a nightclub was his ideal scenario for a Saturday night, but at least he didn't waste the whole evening babysitting you. Admittedly, he was up for it, but you managed to convince him to give you some freedom. You still didn't mind round-the-clock security, but you got the impression that your friends were starting to feel a little uncomfortable. You couldn't accept that they weren't able to relax and enjoy your girls’ night out, and if you had any power to do so, you decided to use it. In return, you promised Steve that – after the party – you would wait for him like a good girl you were, and let him drive you home without saying a word.

Your head was still buzzing from the pounding music and people shouting to each other, and you felt this unpleasant dry stickiness in your mouth. It wasn't the worst state you could get yourself into, because although you hoped to get rid of the annoying, uncomfortable thoughts, you didn't want to completely knock yourself out of consciousness.

You were haunted by the same problems; fueled by longing and the absence of Bucky, who could ease your doubts. Besides, for the past few days you couldn't push away what Victoria said – leaving aside your marriage, could you and Bucky have been more than that? Before he left, he behaved as if you were, but did he allow the possibility or did he do all this because he felt an obligation to act as a husband should? Moreover, you didn't even know why you felt the need to find out all this; after all, you weren't hoping for anything. Other than an inherent affection, a weakness, an incomprehensible attachment and a natural human desire, you had no deeper feelings for Bucky. So what was your problem?

Mindlessly, your eyes wandered to Steve again. Sometimes you would return in memories to Bucky's words; to the moment when he joked that he could recommend you to Steve – you wondered how your life would have turned out then. You would certainly have experienced a completely different dynamic, because while Bucky was patient with you, Steve exceeded all expectations. But unlike Bucky, he behaved a little too formally, politely in your company; as if he didn't allow himself to show any flaws. This, in turn, partly let you guess what Bucky meant when he said: ‘I'm not a guy you marry. Steve is.’ With the warmth, caring and calmness radiating from him, Steve was something of a last step – he just reassured you that he was the right, safe choice; that he would create a stable environment not only for his potential wife, but also for his children.

Bucky, on the other hand, oozed the aura of a charming, slightly unpredictable boyfriend; he made everything still exciting and fresh; he allowed the belief that you both still had enough room for mistakes.

You closed your eyes and let out a heavy breath. Steve glanced at you, raising his eyebrow questioningly. “Still not throwing up,” you stated. For a brief moment, you had an urge to bombard Steve with questions; you wanted to know if Bucky had ever been in a serious relationship; if he thought Bucky would last in one. But that would only deepen your paranoia; besides, you weren't convinced about the idea of getting to know Bucky through the eyes of others.

When the car stopped in front of the apartment building, you got out, grabbing your purse and the high heels you had taken off earlier. You intended to make your way to the apartment barefoot, because you couldn't even imagine putting on those uncomfortable shoes again.

“Oh, sorry. I left some glitter in your car,” you said, noticing shimmering specks from your dress on the seat. To be fair, you also had glitter in your hair and on your skin, so you thought you were equally victimized. “Well, a lot of glitter actually…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Turning off the engine, Steve gave you a smile.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” you asserted right away, seeing him getting ready to leave the vehicle.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. A security guard is sitting inside, there are also some cameras…” You shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

Steve didn't insist – he kept providing you with this illusory sense of freedom. So you said goodbye and headed to the entrance, having previously promised to text him as soon as you crossed the apartment threshold. Steve's car disappeared only when you got inside the building. On your way to the apartment, you were thinking mainly about the contents of the fridge; for the last few hours your stomach had been getting only alcohol and salty snacks in really small portions – so now you were craving something decent.

As you slid the key into the lock, it refused to turn – the door was open. A wave of uneasy heat immediately swept over you, your stomach dropped. For a second you wanted to go back downstairs; perhaps Steve wasn't so far away yet, you could call him and wait with the security guard. Or outside. Anywhere, but not there. At the same time, you tried to keep a cool head and think rationally – what if you simply forgot to lock the door? After all, such things could happen. But there was no room in your life for such incidents. Bucky had you watched for a reason.

In the end, you decided to take possibly the stupidest, yet least dramatic step – you cautiously went inside. There was pitch darkness everywhere, which normally didn't scare you, but now you had no idea what was hiding in it. Too paralyzed by fear, you didn't even think to locate the light switch. You moved ahead – telling yourself repeatedly that it was probably just your paranoia, that you had actually forgotten to lock the door. If not, you had an open escape route – all you had to do was run down the corridor and get out of the apartment, then take the stairs, not the elevator.

Noticing a small red light smoldering in the darkness somewhere from the living room, you froze in stillness. Your body went numb, so unable to make any further movements, you stared at the spot. A recognizable rustling sound reached your ears, and immediately afterwards the vivid light of a lamp burst in the room, shining down on the silhouette sitting beneath it. Your tired, frightened, alcohol-soaked mind refused to believe that it was Bucky in the chair. Not only because, given the length of his absence, you hadn't considered his return in the nearest days – he also looked a little different than you remembered. The first thing that caught your eye was his thick beard; technically, it covered half of his face. Still, you could easily see his mouth stretched in a lazy, amused smile. His hair also got a little longer, and he looked even bigger, even more beefy, but these changes were not so drastic – you picked them up because you knew Bucky's body very well.

He let out a puff of smoke from between his lips, then put out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray placed on the armrest. “Hi,” Bucky spoke, his voice a bit muffled by the smoke coming out of his nostrils.

All negative feelings and real concerns were gone, but your heart was still racing like crazy. However, you weren't sure if it was due to the fear slowly leaving your body or at the sight of Bucky. You wanted to feel happy; you wanted to be able to get excited about the much anticipated return; you wanted to throw your arms around his neck, but in reality you felt really weak – on the verge of passing out. You dropped your shoes and purse on the floor, and rested your trembling hand on the doorframe.

“I scared you, huh?” He slightly tilted his head to the side.

“Yes,” you replied quietly; your voice still didn't feel steady enough, and your throat remained painfully tight.

“Good. You'll remember to take someone with you next time.” Bucky sounded strict and lecturing; as if he was about to bend you over his knee.

You watched each other – you looked at him a little warily, not sure where you were really at, what you should say or do, and Bucky was sizing you up in no rush; he studied closely your skimpy, not very covering dress with a deep neckline.

“Where were you?” There was no hint of possessiveness, jealousy or anger in his voice; only pure curiosity. Just as during your phone conversations over the past months, he wanted to know about your day; he wanted to know everything. He could have asked his people, but he trusted you to tell him the whole truth.

“At the club. With my girls.”

“Were there any guys..?”

You nodded, not taking your eyes off him. “As it is in clubs.” You shrugged. “Full of guys.”

“Poor fellas. Wish I could have seen their faces when they realized all they could do was look at the prettiest girl in all of New York.” Some boyish delight surfaced in his smile, and a pleasant warmth spread over your body. Why would he say all these things if there was any chasm between you? There was no chasm.

He didn't seem impatient, but watched you with gentle anticipation, and soon patted his thigh in an inviting manner. Without a second thought, you moved from your spot and finally straddled him. In all this longing, you forgot how good it felt to be surrounded by the warmth of his body, his scent; how much your body fitted into his, as his thighs felt like the most comfortable place in the world.

“I was kind of hoping you would be happy to see me.” Bucky winced barely noticeably. “Is this about me scaring you? I'm sorry,” he said with remorse, although just a moment earlier he was eager to teach you a lesson. He placed a tender kiss on your cleavage, and your skin burned in that spot.

“I am happy,” you replied, smiling softly. You couldn't let him think otherwise. “I just-”

You wanted to confess all your fears to him, because you knew he would either confirm or get rid of them. But when Bucky lifted one of his hands to your face for a purpose you had no chance to know, your eyes caught the movement and registered something else. You quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand closer to get a good look at it. Bucky was wearing a wedding ring. And it appeared that he didn't put it on on the plane or right after he arrived; he must have already worn it in Italy, because when the ring slid a little higher, you noticed a pale, untouched by the sun mark that stood out on his tanned hand.

“Got one for you, too.” Bucky smiled with satisfaction, but that gesture was sprinkled with a bit of caution. “And a few other things. But first, I'd rather hear what’s bothering you.”

You knew you should tell him; after all, a couple months earlier you yourself had made it clear to him that you needed to speak your minds more. But you didn't want to ruin the peaceful atmosphere. You were both too tired for this conversation. Besides, with or without explanations, you were no longer worried about your relationship – Bucky was here. Right by your side. And there was no sign that he was about to break your heart; unless he was about to crush it with affection.

“Nothing is bothering me,” you claimed with another tender smile, hoping that was enough to distract him from further attempts to get the truth out of you. “You surprised me. I thought I would be able to get ready for you coming, but instead, I'm a mess. A little bit drunk, sticky mess,” you said, which came easily, because you weren't actually lying; you imagined the conditions under which you would celebrate Bucky's return a little differently. Even with all your worries. “I thought it would be more, I don't know,” you shrugged, “perfect maybe..?”

Bucky seemed to accept this version. Perhaps because – considering his exhaustion – you produced far too many words for him to process. “The next time will be more perfect.” The smile lingering on his lips took on a lazy expression.

You shook your head at his words. “There will be no next time, not in the near future,” you said with conviction, as if his unconventional schedule depended on you. “You're not going anywhere, because I'm not letting you.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “In that case, I can go out and come in again.”

“Alright, but you'll have to wait until I hang the banner and inflate balloons.” You raised your eyebrows. The lightness and playfulness surrounding you made you forget the past months. Your concerns and insecurities blurred in the way Bucky looked at you. “Now, show me what you brought me,” you added with theatrical excitement.

“You little materialist…” Shaking his head with just as exaggerated disapproval, Bucky reached outside the chair and grabbed a paper bag. He placed it between your bodies, but you had no pressing need to look inside it. Instead, you watched Bucky almost with fascination; his movements as he slid his hand into the bag. When he pulled it out, his fingers were embracing a small, velour box. Having taken the object carefully, you opened it; the ring Bucky mentioned was waiting inside – a little narrower than the one he wore, but otherwise looked basically identical. “May I?” His gentle tone immediately caught your attention. Without thinking, you turned the box toward him; he pulled out the ring, grabbed your wrist gently to stabilize your hand, and slid the ring onto your finger.

You stared at it, and when you lifted your gaze back to Bucky's face, you caught his eyes stuck on you. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“It's just a little something I should have taken care of much sooner, huh?” he said, and the bag rustled again. Your lips parted in surprise and amazement when this time he took out a scented candle. He laughed softly as you grasped it right away, almost snatching it out of his hands; you guessed from its size and neat, minimalist label that it was one of the more expensive ones.

“You remembered…” Still stunned that he had bought something with you in mind; something almost personalized, you glanced at him, but quickly returned your eyes to the tag. "Tuscan Dream of the Sun..." you read out loud, raising an eyebrow. You opened the lid and brought the candle to your nose.

“Is this how you imagined a Tuscan dream of the sun?” Bucky furrowed his forehead. In response, you moved the candle closer to his face. “I smelled it earlier,” he protested, nevertheless, he inhaled the scent instinctively. “I'm not sure what dreams of the sun smell like, but this smells like oranges. And vanilla.”

“Ohh, right,” you replied, enlightened by the answer you were looking for. “You're right…” You pulled the bag in your direction to put the candle back in it. In the process, you spotted another velour box. “Did you buy another ring? For your mistress?” you asked provocatively, but not angrily.

“Mhm.” Bucky nodded with a sly, lazy smile resting on his lips. “You can take a peek. Tell if she will like it.”

So you reached for the box – a little bigger, flatter than the previous one – and opened it. To your eyes appeared a necklace – a thin, delicate chain with a gemstone in a light, icy shade of blue.

“And?” Bucky asked softly. “Does she like it?”

Without taking your gaze off the necklace, you nodded. “It's really pretty,” you answered in a hushed voice and looked at Bucky. “What's the occasion?”

“No occasion. It's just a gift. So I can keep an eye on you.” He shrugged gently, lifting the corner of his mouth in a not particularly enthusiastic expression. Only then did you realize what the color of the stone reminded you of – Bucky's irises.

For a brief moment he said nothing more, watching you put on the necklace; how you fastened it in front of your face and then turned the lock back, making the pendant rest on your neckline.

“I'm sorry,” he spoke in a more serious tone. His hand slid over your bare calf, and combined with the contrite, even pained expression on his face, the gesture seemed extremely tender to you. “For not being here. You agreed to marry me, and then I left you alone. For so fucking long-”

“Hey.” You put your hands on his cheeks, casting a determined look on his helpless eyes. “You had no choice. Okay?” In response, Bucky nodded barely noticeably. “It was hard for me, that's true. But the fault doesn't lie with you. It never even crossed my mind,” you stated firmly. You chose to ignore the fact that a bunch of other, more or less disturbing things popped into your head while he was gone. “And I'm not saying this because I'm your wife, and it's my job to support your every decision. I'm saying this because you didn't do anything wrong. I'm saying it because I understand.”

He turned his gaze away and chewed on his bottom lip nervously. There was still a look of worry on his face telling you that Bucky didn't quite believe your words. He was completely different when you found him in the apartment, and you didn't know what had happened during those several minutes. Maybe he remembered all the responsibility and effort that comes with being a husband? Whatever it was, it spread in his mind like a poison you didn't know the cure for. You couldn't get into his mind, and he didn't want to make his thoughts available to you in any other way. Or, perhaps, after all, he sensed that there was something you didn't want to tell him, and he returned the favor?

Despite your slight resignation, you plastered a weak smile on your face and tucked a strand of Bucky's hair behind his ear. He closed his eyes, accepting this tender gesture; absorbing its warmth. “You’re tired,” you remarked. “You should go to bed-” You rose gently with the intention of getting off his thighs, but Bucky's hands quickly found their way to your hips; he held you down, pressing you back against his body. He gazed at you again, a little calmer this time, and with a visible exhaustion that you were absolutely right about.

He reached up to touch your cheek, his fingers slipped into your hair. He pulled you in carefully, then pressed your lips together in a delicate kiss; as if testing whether you still accepted his mouth on yours. When, without much thought, you welcomed and reciprocated the kiss, he slipped his tongue into your mouth – he remembered your taste, and when he realized how much he loved it, he let out a low grunt. Pleasant warmth spread throughout your body in a devastating wave – it almost completely washed away any barriers.

He soon pulled away from you. “You are tired, too. And a little drunk, right?” He asked, studying your face intently.

You nodded, not intending to deny it. Bucky drew you to him again; this time he placed a tender kiss on your forehead. You dropped your eyelids, feeling a peace spreading throughout you. He may not have been your boyfriend, or your not-for-real-husband, but he was your home, your safe haven.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

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