A/N: Y’all this took me forever to write and it was heartbreaking as well. 😭 Be prepared to cry I guess. Let me know if you would like to be tagged. 🖤🖤🖤
Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside.
Warnings: language, angst, blood, nightmares, supernatural, brief mentions of past trauma
You had awoken with a start that night, sweat beaded at your forehead and your chest heaving with jagged breaths that felt like icy daggers piercing your lungs. You choked back a sob, throwing your cold and clammy palm over your lips that were wet with the salt of your tears and sweat as you tried to suppress the cry that dared to escape your throat. You had yet another nightmare, but this wasn’t the same ones you had of Ares. No, this was different. You had instead dreamt about the time you received the scars on your back. But it wasn’t so much this dream that had you terrified to your core, no, it was the one that followed that filled you with the utmost dread and horror.
You could still see the images of your dream playing vividly in your mind. The way everything was dry and devoid of water and life, covered in ash everywhere you looked and surrounded in this eerie darkness. Thick, dark clouds blanketed the sky, banishing the sun out of existence where not even a single ray of sunlight could pass. The clouds moved at an unnatural pace, which you thought should have accompanied winds of an incredible speed, but no, the air was deadly still and silent. The only sounds were the cracks of lightning that would strike the earth, yet there wasn’t any signs of rain as far as the eye can see. You remembered seeing how the earth beneath your feet was split open in cracks, from which fire would occasionally spring forth through the openings at the surface.
And as you neared one of the cracks to investigate, you found yourself peering down at a pit so deep, that if you had dropped a coin in it, it would have taken nine days just to reach the bottom. And there at the bottom was an ocean of flames and lava, and what you found at the very bottom filled you with this cold chill that you never wanted to ever experience. There at the bottom lay thousands of souls of the wicked, wailing in torment as they were chained to the ground, their bodies naked and skeletal looking as they reached their arms out above them, desperately grasping and clawing for anything they could use to climb their way out.
You’ve seen this place many times before. You were in Káto Kósmos (underworld) where you used to work with your uncle Hades, your role was to guide souls from the mortal world to Káto Kósmos and Elysium, hence one of your nicknames ‘torch-bearer’. When you had first came to this place with your uncle, you had never been more terrified of the scenery. And though you spent many days here, you could never get accustomed to the anguish that surrounded it.
But this abyss in particular was none other than Tartarus, where your grandfather Kronos was locked up. And as you looked to the corner, there you saw him, Kronos, chained up to the walls of the abyss, his skin reminiscent of the lava and dark cracked walls around him. You stood frozen to your spot as he turned to face you, his eyes blazing like the fires of the pit as he bared his sharp teeth in a sinister grin, lava dripping from the corners of his mouth. You saw him glance down to where your arms were, and as you followed his gaze your eyes widened in horror and your blood ran colder than the iciest parts of this hell. There in your arms lay your daughter, devoid of any color and paler than the vampires you had known, her body stiff and cold.
And that is when you woke up.
You were currently still sat on your bed, your face resting between your hands as you shivered from the bundle of nerves. You felt like throwing up from the ocean of emotions that made you feel like you were drowning. With a shaking breath and trembling hands, you peeled the covers off your body, moving over to get off the bed as you repeatedly told yourself how it was all just a dream, nothing more, just a dream. It’s just a dream. With knees that felt like they were about to give away, you wobbled over to the bathroom, clutching the walls as you went. After turning the lights on, you nearly jumped at the sight of your arms. That deathly color had returned to your arms once again, that charcoal gray mauve purple hue that started as jet black from your claw like fingers and hands before fading out to the previous color, now spread to your biceps with a movement similar to vines.
You squeezed your eyes shut against the violent throbbing in your head as the voices of the tormented from beneath the earth below, filled your ears like a wave had come crashing down on your head. You clasped your hands over your ears, the throbbing increasing in intensity as you slid down the bathroom door, muttering the repeated words of a spell over and over until everything started to ease. As the headache and voices died down like the passing of a breeze, you opened your eyes back up, reaching over to turn the bathroom lights off. You rubbed your temples, a string of curses and a groan leaving your lips before glancing down at your hands to see that the color was fading away, crawling back down your arms like vines and leaving your skin back to its natural tone. You sat there for a minute with your head leaned back against the door and your legs spread straight out on the cold tile floor. With a shuddered sigh, you grabbed onto the cold counter and pulled yourself up with a grunt, turning on the faucet and tying your hair up in a loose bun before washing your face with the cold water, drying yourself off with a towel straight after.
After stepping out of the bathroom, you navigated through the dark bedroom and went to open your bag that was on the table, pulling out your bottle of aged Olympian wine that your sibling Dionysus made specially for you. The wonderful thing about Dionysus’s wines were that they never ran out, the bottles always managed to remain full. Though that could have posed as a problem since most of the attendees at Dionysus parties were always passed out drunk on every part of his house imaginable. You once found someone passed out cold on one of the ledges near the tall ceiling, you wondered at how they even got there in the first place. But Dionysus was always known for throwing the wildest parties and that was what was to be expected when others attended them. You had only been to one of their parties because you weren’t a fan of them in the first place, but Dionysus had insisted, telling you how much of a blast it would be. You ended up spectating with horror in the corner of the room as everyone trashed the place and pulled the most absurd stunts and pranks. At the end of the night you made sure no one rode their pegasus home drunk.
But the reason you pulled out the wine in the first place was because you needed something strong after the visions you had, you weren’t looking to get drunk but you at least wanted to calm your mind after what you saw in your sleep. With your bottle in hand, you went to sit on the window nook, your feet perched up on the other side of the wall that was connected to the window. You looked like a mess with your unruly hair and the hem of your lace trimmed floor length nightgown ridden up to the top of your thighs while one of the thin straps had slipped down your shoulders, almost exposing the entirety of your breast. You sat there for a while, taking occasional sips of the wine and closing your eyes from the deep rich berry flavor that still lingered on your tongue as you stared out at the neon city of high town Madripoor. You prayed that what you saw was just a dream, nothing more, just a simple yet incredibly petrifying nightmare and not some twisted prophecy. But though Olympus may had been gone, the underworld still remained. That is why you had taken every precaution in your power, spell after spell, and enlisted every demon and monster under your command to make sure the doors to the realm below remained chained and locked so that none of the evils from it could escape. Some time had passed until you heard a light tap on your door, making you almost choke on the wine as you swallowed it down, closing up the bottle and rushing over to shove it back in your bag.
“Come in.” You said out loud enough for the person outside your door to hear but not to the point where everyone else could. You grabbed your robe and turned around, adjusting the strap of your nightgown before slipping on your robe just as you heard your door open and shut. Whoever it was, you didn’t want them to see you like this, and most importantly you didn’t want them to see the scars on your back. Tying the belt of your robe around your waist, you turned around to see.........
“Zemo?” You raised a brow at him, seeing him standing at your door in his matching pajamas and robe. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink and his hair looked out of place for the first time. “What are you doing here?”
“I apologize if I had disrupted your sleep.” He looked to the floor with a slight bow of his head. His voice was quiet and he didn’t meet your eyes, his gaze still focused on the floor. It almost looked as if he felt rude for coming to your room and disturbing you at this ungodly hour.
“Well I’ve been awake for a while now so you’re not the one to blame.” You sighed, gesturing over to the window nook. “Have a seat. Do you need some water? You look like shit.”
“Please, if you don’t mind.” He scoffed lightly at your observation of him as he finally looked up at you, thanking you as he went over to sit by the window.
You went over to the table that had your bag and opened up the bottle of water Sharon had already placed there, filling up the two glasses that were there. Zemo watched you as you fixed up the glasses, but unbeknownst to you, his eyes were more so trained on your back instead. He knew. He had caught a glimpse of them when he stepped into your room, right when you were slipping on your robe in a hurried fashion. You were too late. And from the way they were lined across your back, Zemo knew there was only one way you could have gotten them.
You stood there for a moment at the table, contemplating on an idea before you made up your mind and reached into your bag, pulling out a small glass vial and swirling the glowing blue contents around. Popping open the cork top, you poured just a drop into Zemo’s glass, watching it dissolve into the water. Grabbing both glasses, you walked back over to where Zemo sat and handed his glass to him.
“What’s in it? Poison?” Zemo quirked, he saw you drop a strange liquid into it and you weren’t even trying to be sly about it.
“Nah.” You scrunched your nose. “I’m too tired and lacking motivation to poison you. I added a tonic, to help you with whatever the hell you are feeling. It’ll make you feel and look less like shit. You gotta finish the whole glass though, not that it tastes bad. Ice?”
“Oh, um sure. Thank you.” Zemo looked up at you. Well that was kind of you.
You waved a hand over his glass and a clinking sound was heard as three cubes of ice formed in his drink. Zemo stared at the glass, he really had to start getting accustomed to your strange ways. You formed ice cubes in your own glass as well before sitting down on the other side of the nook.
“I want to apologize about the gestures I made towards you and putting you in that predicament. You didn’t deserve to be put on display like that, especially near Selby.” Zemo spoke up.
“It’s fine, really.” You shook your head. “I have your ring by the way.”
“Keep it. As a sort of compensation.”
“I can’t. That ring looks expensive. You could at least return it and get your money back.”
“Keep it, I insist. It looks good on you anyways.”
“Oh........okay then. So what’s really bothering you?” You questioned as you took a drink of the cold water to help waken you up.
“I saw my family again in my dreams. Or at least, what I last saw of them.” Zemo glanced down at his glass before taking a sip of the tonic you prepared for him. There wasn’t much of a taste, maybe a slight hint of a berry, but right after doing so, he already felt slightly better.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered.
“And what’s keeping you awake?”
“Things that were...things that are...and some things...that have not yet come to pass.” You leaned back against the window.
“Did you really just-“
“Yes I quoted Galadriel. I didn’t know how else to put what I’m going through.” You sighed before sitting up abruptly, staring at him like he had asked you the most bizarre question before dropping your expression to that of a solemn one. Did he just? “You want me to contact your dead family, don’t you.”
Zemo whipped his head towards you. Did you just read his mind? You said you wouldn’t do that unless absolutely necessary.
“Well your thought was incredibly loud might I add.” You answered. “I can’t do anything about it when you mortals like to scream in your heads.”
“I apologize.” Zemo shook his head. “It was a ridiculous thought. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“No.” You stopped him. “I.....I can do it. If you want to of course. I....can’t bring your family back, it’s too risky and won’t end well. But I can contact their spirits.”
Zemo looked at you as if you had lost your mind, unable to form words at the moment. Were you really going to contact his deceased family? He was a bit uneasy about it at first, but at the same time, he needed to see them again, even if it was for one last time.
“I......I would like to see them again, but mostly so I can properly say goodbye.”
You nodded your head in understanding, going over to set the glass down on the table before pulling out your dagger.
“What is that for?” Zemo eyed the dagger in your hand as the blade glinted in the moonlight.
“Well I’m going to have to open up a portal to the dead, and in order to do that, I need blood. But don’t worry. I’m using my own blood.” With a wave of your hand you made five lit candles appear in a circle on the floor, representing the five points of your pentagram, the burning flames stood still from the lack of a breeze. “You don’t have to watch this process if it disturbs you.” You turned to him, to which Zemo shook his head. He wasn’t going to back out now, in fact, he was curious. Never had he thought he would be seeking the help of the goddess of witchcraft herself to preform an act of necromancy. You kneeled down on the floor in the center of the candles, holding your arms out before you with your dagger clutched in one hand. Muttering a few words in Ancient Greek, you dragged the tip of your dagger through your palm, wincing from the pain and using your blood for the the runes you painted on the floor. After the last incantation, you sat there in silence as Zemo did the same.
“What are you-“
“Shhh.” You hushed him, putting a finger to your lips as you waited for the telltale signs. And there it was. There came a small chilly breeze, flickering the flames of the candles though there wasn’t the slightest opening in the room for a breeze to pass through. The temperature of the room dropped to where you could see your breath escape your lips in a cloud of fog. Zemo shivered, and as you looked ahead, three silhouettes began to take form in front of you, taking the shape of an older gentleman, a beautiful woman, and a little boy who looked like a much younger version of Zemo and the woman, until they looked fully human like they haven’t touched or seen the slightest shrivel of death. Their presence instantly brightened up the room in a warm, comforting glow.
Zemo held his breath at the sight before him, he thought that his heart might stop, or that he was just in another dream, that none of this was real. The three spirits bowed their heads to you in respect as you gave them a kind smile, the same smile a mother would give a child. You looked over at Zemo as they did the same, following your gaze until their faces lit up once they saw who sat before them. You stood up and went over to Zemo, taking the glass out of his hands and setting it down before he dropped it, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Go say hi.” You smiled down at him.
Zemo looked up at you, unable to form words from the emotions he was currently feeling. You swore you thought he looked like a scared young boy at that moment, his eyes filled with this slight fear and surprise. Zemo gulped, looking back at his family as he choked out their names, his voice hoarse and dry.
“Papa!” The little boy ran to him.
Zemo jumped out of his seat as he frantically rushed over to the boy, kneeling down to hold him in his arms.
You widened your eyes at Zemo’s sudden movement, secretly flicking your wrists to solidify their forms before they came in physical contact with each other. You couldn’t bear to see their expressions, especially Zemo’s, if he had come to find out he couldn’t even touch them, that his hands would pass right through his loved ones. You’ve seen it happen before, they were only spirits after all, no longer mortal.
“Carl. Oh Carl.” Zemo sobbed as he kissed his son’s forehead, clutching his son’s small frame to him with his hand cradling his head like it was the last thing he could do.
“I missed you Papa.” Carl smiled at up Zemo. “Princess Hekate helped us, did you know! She’s so nice! She gave us a beautiful place to live in........in......” The boy furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the name of the place they currently resided in before looking at you for help.
“Ēlýsion my child.” You smiled, tears brimming the corners of your eyes at the heart wrenching scene before you.
“Yeah! El.....El......Ēlýsion!” Carl grinned as he got the name right, making Zemo chuckle.
You almost gasped at the sound that left Zemo’s lips. You had never seen him genuinely smile, or even laugh. But this, seeing him like this made you feel a sense of peace within yourself, and yet, there was that guilt, because this was only temporary.
“It’s sooooo beautiful there dad! And there’s so many nice furry animals there that are my friends!”
“That’s wonderful Carl.” Zemo smiled down at his son as he stroked his hair. He wished he could freeze time, so he could live in this moment forever.
“Helmut, my love.” The woman now softly spoke as she smiled down at him.
Zemo looked up at her with wide eyes before standing up and embracing her, holding her as close to him as possible. “Heike, schatzi.”
You turned away as they shared a kiss, looking down at the floor and playing with the silk fabric of your nightgown.
Zemo went to embrace his father next before holding them all as close to him as possible, afraid that if he let go, they might turn disappear at his fingertips.
You glanced at them once more smiling at seeing them so happy together before starting to make your way towards the door to leave them some privacy but Zemo had stopped you in your tracks, calling you by your name. “Wait, don’t go. We would all like it if you stayed with us.”
You turned back around, seeing them beckoning you back with kind smiles, and so you did. Even though Zemo knew you had already met his family, he still wanted to introduce you to them like he would if they were alive. He was able to do what he couldn’t do before, he was able to look at his family in a much more lively state, he was able to catch up on events with them, he was able to tell his son more stories, he was able to tell them how much he loved them. But the last thing left for him to do, was to tell them goodbye, for the final time.
You placed a hand on Zemo’s shoulder, “I’m sorry Zemo, but time is almost out.”
Zemo nodded his head as he understood what you told him, the same saddened expression returned to his face, but this time it was different, it was almost a peaceful kind of sadness, one that signified a sense of acceptance. Zemo embraced each of them for one last time, keeping a memento in his mind of their individual scents and the feeling of their frames in his hands as he told them all goodbye and how much he loved them for one last time. His father, wife, and son held hands with each other as they stood before him, each of them wearing a glowing smile on their faces.
Heike looked to her husband with an expression that held much more meaning behind it, one that you had seen the deceased give their loved ones. “It’s not your time yet.” She told him before turning to you with a smile that said thank you, though her eyes told you there was something more she wanted to share with you. So as you glanced into her thoughts, you saw her mention one thing. ‘Be there for him, he needs you.’ And then they faded away, returning to the Elysian Fields and leaving your room in the darkness it was before, the moonlight being the only source of light since the candles had burned out.
“Goodbye.” You heard him say farewell once more, and for the very last time.
You looked over at Zemo to see if he was okay and saw him still standing there, staring at the same spot they stood at not too long ago.
“Thank you.” He muttered as he now turned to you.
“No need to thank me. You both needed to see each other.”
He stepped closer to you now, his eyes scanning the floor as he searched for a way to thank you. You had done so much for him, maybe it was a simple task for you, but it meant everything to him, how could he ever repay you. You glanced down as you saw his hand reach towards you, he was much closer now, merely inches apart as you could almost feel the heat radiating of his body. If you moved just an inch towards him, your chest would have brushed against him, the only thing separating you two would be a layer of fabric. You shivered as you felt Zemo’s fingers brush against the side of your neck as he moved away your loose strands of hair that had fell out of your bun. His fingers left a trail of goosebumps as they went over your bare collarbone and shoulder, before going over the fabric of your robe and down your clothed arm before brushing up against the bare skin of your hand, the same hand where you had just sliced yourself.
You watched as his fingers wrapped delicately around your wrist as he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles before gazing down at you. Your face was hot as you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, you felt as if you would melt into a muddle at his feet from the way he held you before him. He made you feel entirely vulnerable and you did the same to him. Zemo thought you looked absolutely radiant in the moonlight, perhaps being the goddess of the moon had something to do with it, but you looked entirely ethereal. Zemo’s eyes never left yours as he turned your hand over before breaking his gaze to glance down at your palm, tracing a finger over the area where you had sliced yourself, the fresh wound that was there was now replaced with a scar. Zemo placed a soft delicate kiss on your scar that had formed, afraid that it might have still caused you pain even though it had healed over.
“Thank you.” He whispered before looking into your eyes once more.
Your hand was still held in his as he used his other hand to caress your cheek, cupping your jaw softly while his thumb brushed along the skin that was there. You reached your free hand up to where his was on your jaw, placing your hand on his wrist and seeing the softest smile on his lips as you did so, you stood there, held in each other’s gaze before he started to lean in. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you knew what was to come next. You parted your lips, desperately wanting to cave in to the feeling of his lips on yours but you turned your head, your eyes closed and your jaw tight.
Zemo saw the way you turned and the expression that was held on your face, feeling your grip on his wrist become firm. Zemo let out a soft breath he was holding in, not knowing why you had turned away from him in the last moment. Did he upset you? He didn’t mean to upset you.
“I’m sorry Zemo, I just.......I can’t.” You refused to look into his eyes or else you’d burst into tears in front of him.
“I understand Schatzi.” He whispered to you before placing a soft kiss on your cheek instead, his lips lingering there for a minute as he let go of your hand after placing another kiss to your knuckles. “Get some sleep schatzi. You deserve it.”
You heard your door close softly behind him as he left your room, the tingling sensation on your cheek still lingered like a phantom, from the feeling of the kiss he left behind.
B.Barnes x S.Rogers, B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader
Series Synopsis | After the events of the horrific past, y/n Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have finally admitted their feelings for each other. But is life as an avenger whilst dating two super soldiers any easier than anything y/n’s experienced in the past?
sequel Series to Their Doll
Series Warnings | smut, violence, torture, swearing, threesomes, drug usage/substance abuse
Chapter Summary | y/n and Bucky get closer again
Warnings | blood, implied violence
A/n | This is a sequel book/series to my fic Their Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just before AOU in this book. Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
"My scar." Y/n mumbled, looking up at Bucky suddenly. The man hummed, placing his book on his lap to look back at his girl.
"What about it?" Bucky mumbled back with curiosity.
"You said those...dreams were what you would've done if we'd been together before the war, but I still had my scar. You could've gotten rid of it, but you didn't." Y/n explained, a confused frown dancing over her brow when he smiled.
"It's because I love you, all of you. That scar, it tells a story that you shouldn't have to tell, but shouldn't ever forget. It's part of you, like this," Bucky lifted his metal arm, waving the plated hand slightly, "is part of me."
Y/n smiled light from where she sat across the couch; she still didn't feel comfortable being too close to Bucky after the whole locking her up thing, but she was getting closer.
"I'm sorry." He abruptly blurted and y/n frowned. Bucky took a deep sigh before continuing. "I really can't tell you how sorry I am about...about, well, everything?" Bucky proposed and y/n shifted in her seat slightly.
"Oh." Was all she managed, placing her own book on the flimsy coffee table that sat parallel to the torn up sofa in the motel room they were staying in. "Thanks, I guess?" She supplied and Bucky blinked at her. "I'm sorry, I'm just not good at this stuff, I guess. I'm so confused as to how I should feel right now." Y/n vented and Bucky smiled.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm just happy you can bare me enough to talk to me, I was terrified that I may have lost your trust forever." He mumbled, tentatively reaching to take y/n's hand. When she didn't flinch or pull away, he held it in his own.
"I just don't know what to feel; on the one hand, you let them lock me up, but on the other, well, you did everything you could to keep me comfortable and you got me out." Y/n admitted and Bucky nodded, understanding. "And I still love you." She added quietly and Bucky grinned, before wiping the expression from his face.
They'd been on the run for a couple of weeks now, skipping between dingy motels and safe houses that had been long forgotten. Using a code, Bucky and Peter had kept in contact. Apparently, Tony and Sharon were furious.
"I love you too. Do you want some food yet?" Bucky asked and y/n nodded. He got up and crossed the room to gather some money and the room key. "I'll be back in half an hour tops, okay?" Bucky checked and y/n nodded.
"See you later." She murmured as the door slammed shut.
Alone with her thoughts again.
Y/n would rather be in Bucky's company than alone still. Even after the stuff he'd done, she couldn't stop herself from loving him. And it's not like she hadn't done her own fair share of bad things, too.
The girl sighed, rubbing her eyes as she felt the drowsiness of sleep overcome her. Maybe she could get a nap in before Bucky got back.
Bucky kept his head down. His hair had grown longer; he hadn't bothered cutting it since they left. His hood was drawn tightly over his face and his steps were quick as he paced to the closest store that sold food.
Once he reached the shop, Bucky rigged a hand - the flesh one - from his pocket and pulled open the door. When inside, he hastily went in search of some decent food.
Although, he instantaneously discovered one of the down sides to shopping at night - drunk people. The boisterous laughed filled his ears like water as Bucky hunted through the shelves, slurred insults thrown back and forth within the group of men.
"Hey, you!" Shit. Bucky looked up. "Yeah, you with the long hair!" One of them boomed and Bucky scoffed, shaking his head as he turned back to the section of ready-made sandwiches.
"Hey, look at me." The man persisted and Bucky rolled his eyes. They boy looked back to his friends, all clearly amused with the situation before the guy was swinging a punch in Bucky's direction.
On instinct, the super soldier caught the guy's fist in his hand. His metal hand. The guy looked so aghast that Bucky had to stop himself from laughing.
"This may hurt a little." Y/n sighs, eyes squinted as she threads the needle in front of her. Bucky swallows his groan of pain, giving her a stiff nod before letting his head knock back into the wall behind him. Y/n steps between her boyfriend's legs, pulling his arm forwards and letting a small apology slip from her lips when he hissed.
"Fuck!" Bucky cursed, metal fist slamming into the counter that he was sat on, the dent large and lined with splintered wood. Y/n winced a little but continued, her voice twisting around whisper sweet nothings to calm him down.
Bucky's breathing was heavy, laboured, as y/n continued to sew up the gash, lip pulled between her teeth in concentration.
"Almost there...just a little more..." Her small voice mumbled as Bucky's metal a whirred.
"Fuck me, please remind to never piss off a group of drunk guys again." Bucky groans, but y/n could only find herself biting her lip harder at the thought of fucking him again.
Clearly, this intimate moment had helped her see past his mistakes.
"I'm so sorry, y/n. I'll be more careful next time." Bucky promises, flesh hand reaching to cup her cheek when he pulls back - remembering her hesitance.
"It's not your fault. I'll still patch you up each and every time it happens." Y/n smiled tightly, almost with pity when she eyes his retracted hand.
Bucky nods solemnly before moving to hop off the crappy bathroom counter in their motel room, only to cut himself short with a groan.
"Easy, soldier." Y/n jokes, placing her hands onto her boyfriend's hips to help him down.
"Thanks." He mumbled low before hobbling off, eyes biting back tears as he limped through the room to flop on the creaky bed.
Y/n sighs heavily, watching him go with a sad expression. Bucky flicked the TV on - blue light sliding over his features in a haunting highlight; the structure of his bones protruding with the flashing colour of people moving across the screen.
"Y/n." Bucky hissed as she wrung out the little towel - now full of blood and stained a deep crimson.
Her her snapped up, the wet fabric falling into the sink with a soggy slap before she was stumbling across the room to perch on the edge of the bed.
"Oh my god." She exclaimed, hand tight over her mouth I shock at the screen.
"Suspect in the bombing is none other than James Buchan Barnes and Y/n Stark. We'll be back with more information when we have it." The presenter finished, accompanied by pictures of both y/n and Bucky stealthily away from the building, which was now laying in ruins.
"Oh my god." She repeated, horrified at the sight of King T'Chaka and all the victims.
💕 reader turns into a baby and obsessed with Bucky. Awww 🥺
bucky barnes x reader / masterlist
warnings; fluff, morgan definitely being tony’s kid, biting, swearing, spoilers for IW and Endgame, mention of the blip, childish behaviour from adults, terrible humour (I really am sorry), spoiler for WV, mention of age gap, kinda a crossover, an absolute mess 😂
“Morgan?” Bucky frowned, as the girl tried to speed past him. It was not wise for anyone to allow the mischievous child run around the compound alone, she always got up to nothing but trouble, and there was such a glazing in her brown eyes.
She didn’t spare him a glance, instead, she bolted, causing the super soldier to sigh. He would have went after her if there weren’t already footsteps recurring from the path that she had just came from; it was his father. It so happened that there was a bundle of joy in his arms, crying like the sudden crack of dawn.
“What were you going to do, wait another five years to tell everyone about this one, Stark?” Bucky asked with a chuckle, though the cries from the infant muted at the sound of his voice. The child wiggled in Tony’s grasp, trying her utmost to reach out for the vibranium armed hero.
“She’s not my daughter, if she was, I think me and you would be having conversations.” Tony’s words spurred a frown to combust out onto Barnes’ face, and the billionaire sighed, shifting the baby so that the baby was in Bucky’s arms.
The child cooed up at him, her eyes were a baby blue, sure to avert possibly into a different colour once she grew elder. “Look, I didn’t ask if I could hold her, she’s cute, but why do you-“
“Morgan did it.” Tony willingly blamed his own daughter. With her various experimentations, she was definitely taking after him. He’d be sure to keep this one quiet from Pepper, otherwise he was almost certain that he’d be banned from bringing Morgan on expeditions to the compound.
“I though y/n was supposed to be watching her.” Stated the enhanced soldier, cocking his head at the information that he recalled. He promptly remembered you abandoning him half way through training the newbie recruits, because Happy was dropping Morgan off, and you had offered watch over her, despite the associate being there.
“She was, and now you’re going to have to watch over her.” Tony pointed specifically to the child in his arms, and that was when realisation hit Bucky. He gulped, breathing through his nose to calm himself, as all the pieces clicked perfectly together.
This was not just a child - it was you. As he gazed down at you, he could finally see the pouted expression that would fixate upon your face when you paid attention to him when you were drunk, there was a glazing over your eyes as you raised your small and innocent hands, scraping down the stubble of his chin, as you curled further into his arms.
“I am going to kill you.” He steadily spoke, huffing as Sam went to walk past, but stopped himself when he saw the bundle of joy that was content in the brooding soldier’s arms.
“What the hell! Did you and y/n have a baby or something without telling anyone?” Oh, how he wished those were the circumstances, and if the pair of you were to ever have a child together, then he would be impartial to the idea of doing so.
"This is not my child, it's y/n, thanks to Stark over there." He bounced you in his arms, he even felt a small dribble of spit seep through his shirt, but he didn't mind, not as his icy glare was intently prized upon the philanthropist.
"Hey, it was my daughter's fault, not mine!" Tony excused himself from the blame, holding his palm against his chest, as he received as such. Sam ogled at him for a second, before returning his attention back into Bucky, and little you.
He came forwards, reaching his hand towards you, keening as you went to grasp his. As you did so, a smile broke out upon the man’s face, until it contorted into a sharp frown, the noise of a yelp escaping from his lips. “That little bitch bit me.”
“Language.” Steve rounded the corner, his golden brows raising when he saw the infant contently resting in his best friend’s arms. “Did you and y/n have a baby without telling us?”
“That’s what I said!” Sam beckoned to the blonde, as he averted a strong gaze to you and your normal sized partner. "Until she bit me, it reminds me of that time that I tried to steal her fries."
"I don't see why your complaining." Bucky rolled his eyes, bracing you up straighter so that your forehead was pressed lightly against his shoulder. "I'm the one whose partner is an actual child."
"Yeah, tell me about it." Sam rolled his eyes in reference to how you were beforehand, before Steve cut in, directing his leading tone towards the men that were stood idly by.
"What actually happened?" Tony found his enquiry to be an opportunity to avert the fault from himself; how lucky indeed was it that Steve asked such a thing.
"Technically it's your fault capsicle. Morgan found your prototype of your unsuccessful time machine. As you can see, she turned into a baby, much like Lang. And if you want to push the blame off of yourself, blame these two for their asses disappearing."
"Hey, if I wanted to disappear, I wouldn't have made such a dramatic exit. I'd have just left for my sister's." Crossing his arms, Sam shook his head at the man that was not wearing his iron suit. He was unable to take any responsibility, unless it was for his genius brain wave of creating the true transportation for the time heist.
"Well I'm going to keep that noted for any future repercussions." Oh, how Wilson regretting mentioning that now.
"You left it out, within your daughter's reach." Bucky quirked his brow, as he prepared to head towards the storage of the private laboratory that was shared between the two science bros.
"Technically, that was the big green guy." Bucky vouched not to listen to Stark, instead, he continued to walk, leaving the three other men in his rear view, though for the most part, he could still hear them bickering.
"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change."
"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change." Tony mimicked Steve, thus only proving his point. He was certainly a man that enjoyed pressing people's buttons, it was a shining attribute of the once playboy, and god, did it annoy the hell out of Barnes.
As he entered the laboratory, he found the lab to be in a state of havoc. "Hey, it wasn't me this time." Scott laughed, as he used an extinguisher against the frayed machine, that was blubbering sparks from its ruined exterior.
"Smash!" A small green child, wearing glasses that were far too big for him, ran across the room, followed shortly by a child with long blonde hair wrapped up in a red cape, as though it were some kind of makeshift diaper.
"Explain." Bucky bluntly stated, clenching his jaw, as he cooed lightly at your cries that pierced the air. He bounced you in his arms, not quite certain of what he was supposed to do.
In his time, there wasn't exactly an education system to teach the men going to war how to parent, or even care for a child. A part of him panicked; it was you, he hated seeing you cry in general, but now he couldn't attempt to find out the cause for your falling tears.
"Aw is that y/n?" The man half dressed in his ant man suit asked, a bright smile on his face, as he reached out to hold you. To say Bucky was hesitant to pass you to him was an understatement. "I have a daughter, I've looked after a baby before."
"From jail?" The white wolf asked, as he heard a crash exhibit from the connecting room, obviously being the fault of the two most destructive avengers, or at least, their little versions. Being aged down was definitely certification for trouble, everyone knew that.
"Okay I wasn't in there for that long." Scott reassured him, he picked up a bottle of milk from the table, handing it to the metal armed man, whom had never fed a child before. He found himself, cautiously, keeping a watchful eye, passing you over to the former criminal, intently watching every movement that the man made.
Lange simply fed you. "Always thought you and y/n would have a cute baby, imagine its- oh yeah, well after all that stuff that happened with vision and SWORD, we thought it best to destroy any technology that was recovered from the old base. This part survived, and well, I went into its- okay, you don't want to hear the science, but basically Thor insisted he could break it with his hammer, albeit whilst I was inside of it, and it sent energy around the room that turned them into pubescent children."
"I can see that it did nothing to you. And I thought Morgan did it.”
"I was so relieved, lucky I- wait, was that an insult?" Bucky remained primitively silent, and that answered Scott's question. The hero sighed, as you finished nursing, and your arms reached for Bucky, to whom he passed you to. “And I lied...”
He literally blamed a five year old for the screw up of grown men. Tony was going to thrive off this information, whence he knew that his daughter was in fact not the culprit.
"What do we do now?" He was eager to find a cure for this betrothed science. Those whom were responsible for your decrease in age, well, one was running around the compound, and the other, well, he was even younger than Morgan currently.
"You could wait twenty years, I mean you two already have quite a big age gap, and please don't kill me. I'm not sure that Cap would approve, I am a vital source to the team!"
"I'm not going to kill you tic tac. Or at least not at least until we fix these three."
"Phew." Scott wiped his brow, blowing air from his mouth. "Wait thre- oh yeah, the little guy carrying the hammer that is bigger than himself, and the
"Okay, we need someone smarter." Bucky sighed heavily, as he hugged you in thought. "You tried hitting it again with the hammer?"
"Oh my god, I could be worthy!" Gasped Scott, running off to the next room, only to come back limping, a pained expression on his face. "Little Asguardian bastard hit me!"
Bucky contained his smirk, and instead passed you to Lang, venturing into the other part of the lab, finding that Bruce was asleep, a blob of snot hanging from his nose, he could see the hammer in the middle of the room, almost as though it were waiting for him to attempt grabbing the handle, and Thor was-
The minuscule god jumped from one of the shelves, wrapping his arms around the front of Bucky’s neck, as he put all his weight on the super soldier’s back. In all practicality, Thor was strangling him, and Bucky tapped his arm, trying to convince him to let go.
“I know who Noobmaster69 is.” Thor quirked his head, lessening his hold, as he promptly awaited his now older friend to continue. “It’s, its- his name is Wade Wilson.”
“Wilson!” No, gosh no. Bucky stood completely, making sure to keep Thor in the vicinity, he needed him to be so so that he could reverse the affects on the son of Odin.
“Not Sam. Wade.” He had never met the man before, but god did he seem like a dick. When the pair of you were getting a taxi, the driver Dopinder just could not shut up about his friend, who liked to wear red, and had a kink for unicorns.
Wade certainly sounded like a weird one, but right now, his pass time was getting Thor to pick up that hammer. “Where can I find this Wade?” It practically left his mouth as a hiss, if the imagery and proven death supposed otherwise, he’d possibly think it was Loki instead.
“I will tell you, if you pick up that hammer, and hit it against that old machine. Got it buddy?”
“It’s name is Stormbreaker!” Bellowed the norseman, who tried to slide off his back, but Bucky kept a hold of his legs, refraining him from going anywhere. “Get peter to do it, I don’t want to play that game anymore!”
“Uuh, hi Mr Barnes...” That voice, oh he knew it, and the majority of the time it irritated him, he was Tony's little pet. “And, baby avengers?”
“Don’t ask kid.” Peter nodded, as he went to reach for a spanner. “Can you pick the hammer up, are you worthy?”
“Am I worthy?” He wondered aloud, his eyes fixated on the hammer, as he stepped towards it, holding his hand out, and clasping his palm around the handle, it feeling weightless in his grip, as he picked it up without effort. “Oh my god (it’s Robert Downey Junior)!”
“Great, now take it out there, I’ll deal with these two. And don’t do anything yet.” He was certainly feeling like a sergeant, throwing all the orders to the others, Peter complied, carrying the hammer as though it were an empty duffel.
“Can I try?” Instantly, after Peter passing it to him, Scott had such hope, until the force of gravity hit, and it fell on his foot, causing a light scream to ripple through his throat. “Get it off, get it off!”
Peter did so, as Bucky kept Thor on his shoulders, and grabbed a hold of Bruce’s chubby little ankle, dragging him into the other room. “Shit he’s heavy.” He saw that you were sat in the grand spinny chair, making Bucky relived that you weren’t in Lang’s arms as he attempted to have a moment of worthiness.
“What’d you do, go all Winter soldier on his ass and knock him out?!” Half screamed the prodigy of Hank Pym.
“Of course not, I think Thor did it.”
“Oh yeah, blame the kid because I did the same.”
“Put your suit from Stark on kid, unless you want to become a fetus.” Bucky ignored Scott for the moment,
“I got Hope to send her outfit, it will stretch to accommodate you, but I also think it would hug your shape nicely.”
“That was fast.” Muttered Peter, and Bucky shook his head, eyeing the outfit with weird eyes.
“I’m crazy, but not crazy enough to wear that.” Sighing, he grasped it in his hands, walking to the other room to squeeze into it. He noticed you watching, and thus he turned the chair around so that you couldn’t see anything. Little did he realise until he came out, that you had spun it around again, and was giggling. “Don’t laugh at me, or you won’t be allowed to see it when you’re returned to normal.”
A pout settled on your small lips, and it appeared as though you were getting ready to cry again, but before you could do so, a distraction intervened. An uninvited, and confusing one.
“Stop. Can I just say, that is some cruel declaration for the both of you, you’re my fave ship, after me and Hugh Jackman of course, but he doesn’t even know that this version of me exists.” A newfound imposter called out, his arms raised in the air. Leather gloves crinkled as he twitched his fingers, his white eyes freaking Scott the fuck out. “May I join you on this journey? I read about you guys in comics. And can I just say, I want to see these hunks and that hottie all grown up.”
“You want to see me go Winter Soldier on someone Lang?” Bucky gritted his teeth, prepared to murder this man for ever posing such words about you into the open air. Him speaking obviously drew some attention to him though, but it was not his rage that was mentioned, instead, it was his attire- or well, Hope’s.
“Nice suit Buck Buck. Can you do a twirl for me, I wanna see if it competes with America’s ass. Damn, does that man have some buns on him.”
“I know right!” Scott eagerly agreed, earning a smack in the nuts, to which had made him close to crumbling.“You had to use the metal hand, didn’t you.” Whimpered the Ant to the false Wasp, clamping his hands over his goods as he half hunched over. “I thought you often forgot to use it coz your right handed.”
“You’re on my left.” Gross, he sounded like Sam.
“Who the hell are you?” Thor spoke, and it felt familiar on his tongue. It was as though he had asked an enemy the same thing before...
“I, am Noobmaster69.”
“Hi, I’m Peter. Oh, we’re using our made up names, I thought Sam said it was that guy from that tech place.” Peter scratched his head through the mask, providing a small verbal distraction, as Thor willingly set himself free, launching at the intruder, whilst snatching the hammer from a suited up Peter.
“Aaasrrrghh.” He screamed like a true deity of the vikings.
“Thor, no!” Lang screamed, knowing that he’d have to come up with another excuse. The cameras had been fused whence Thor had first struck the hammer in the room, and it abused the guy in the red suit as he went for his legs, attacking the friend of Dopinder.
warnings | smut, MINORS DNI, cum, size kink, dirty talk, general dirty thoughts that come with nsfw alphabet
author’s note | i was feeling frisky so i did a classic i have like three more of these lined up for loki, steve, and natasha
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Bucky is so attentive to your needs, especially after he’s been rough with you. The last thing he wants is to hurt anyone and he is always worried about this.
He probably has a whole routine for aftercare where he takes you to a bathe to clean up and cuddles with you. I think he would hold you close and absolutely whisper sweet nothings in your ear.
“Baby, I love you so much, you have my entire heart, you know that, right?”
“You are the most precious thing is my life, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You are so pretty, my pretty girl.”
He would shower you in love, kissing your forehead, cheeks, and lips. He makes you feel so adored.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Bucky’s favorite part of his own body is his flesh hand because it’s what connects him with you. He likes to intertwine your fingers together. He likes running his hand down your body and just feeling you. It makes him feel close to you.
As for his favorite body part of yours, he loves everything about you, but he has a weakness for your lips. He likes feeling your lips against his in a slow or passionate kiss. He loves the way your lips trail down his body, how pretty and swollen they look stretching around his cock.
But what he loves the most about your lips is how you use them to appreciate the parts of him of he hates. Your lips graze and love on the scars on his body. The first time you pressed sweet kisses to the marred skin that connected his vibranium arm to his collar bone, he cried. He had never felt so loved in his life as you told him he was beautiful and that you adored him.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Oh man, when this man discovered birth control was a thing, his whole world changed. He was so used to using condoms that the first time he cums inside you and watches how his cum leaks down your thighs, he immediately gets hard again.
He likes to cum on your tummy too, just loves the way you look like a mess afterwards and it drives him crazy when you dip your fingers in his mess before licking them clean.
When you give him head, he usually cums down your throat or paints your face with his strips of white. He might even have a couple photographs on his phone of you covered in his cum (after you shower him what sexting was and how to take pictures on his phone)
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He likes how big he feels compared to you, like he’s big and strong. So, I guess he has a size kink. He likes to overwhelm you with his size, his hands look so big when splayed on your hips and he can’t help but get hard when you try to reach in the top cabinet and can’t.
In fact, one time you climbed on top of counter in just one of shirts and a pair of red panties to get your favorite tea from the cabinet. He walked into the kitchen and saw your ass on display, looking so tiny. He went feral. He came up behind you and grabbed you by the hips to get you down. He pinned you against the counter, towering over you and made you feel small (and you loved it).
He ended up tearing your panties off and lifting you up in the air. He hooked your knees around his arms and hoisted you up before fucking into you while holding you in the air. You were a moaning mess, nails digging into his back as his cock dragged against your velvety walls relentlessly.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Bucky knows what he is doing, but he’s a little rusty. The first time you suck him off, he cums in literal minutes like you barely started and he was cumming down your throat.
As for the actual fucking, he does know what he is doing because he was pretty experienced when he was back in the 40s. He can make you cum so many times after he gets back in the swing of things.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He likes holding you in the air to fuck you because it shows off his strength and he feel so in control. He likes to feel in control.
He likes to hover over you in missionary. He kisses you senseless and plays with your nipples. Bucky likes to look you in the eyes and watch as he makes you feel so good.
I also feel like he’s a tits man and he likes to watch you ride him so he can play with your nipples and leave marks on your pretty skin.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Sometimes he gets goofy, but it’s not until he’s very comfortable with you and it’s not very often. He usually likes to keep things intimate, really take you a part and make you feel good.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He is not caught up on modern times but I think he might trim things up. Though, it’s just that. He’s not clean shaven.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
When he cums, he is so loving. He can’t help but groan your name and tell you how much he loves you.
He likes things kinda rough, but he wants to make love to you very often as well. He likes to kiss down your body and tell you how beautiful you are. You love to do the same with him.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He only jacks off when you are gone for a few days. He prefers the tightness and warmth of your cunt. When you get back, you cockwarm him because he missed you and wants to be close.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He prefers to be dominant. He spent so much time under people’s control that he hates not being in control.
Bucky loves to be praised, he wants to know how good he makes you feel. He also likes to praise you as well, calling you his good girl, his best girl. He likes the way you mewl when he tells you to be good for him.
He isn’t very open about his kinks with anyone, prefers to keep between you but sometimes he can’t help but have his hands on you. You discovered he likes sexting very much, like so much. There is something about getting a pretty picture of you in your panties in his bed that makes him feel wild.
He likes cockwarming a lot. The intimacy of you being pressed against him and so close. It’s just a sort of closeness he’s never experienced before and he lives for it.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
The kitchen is a popular choice. Whenever you climb the counters or when you dance around the kitchen as you make food. You move your hips to the sound of the music and he can’t help that he has to take you against the counter.
He is a private person and he likes to do it in the bedroom because that’s where he feels safest. Sometimes he feels risky and will take you somewhere like the bathroom of a party.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
When you wear his clothes, it never fails to make him hard. It’s like some sort of claim on you, and he knows that old-fashioned, but he can’t help it that he wants everyone to know your his.
Bucky will go wild if you wear lingerie like so wild. He can’t keep his hands off you when he knows you’re wearing such a pretty thing under your clothes. He just wants to admire you and make also ruin you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He’ll never hit you. He does not like when you are in pain and he just can’t hurt you. He might spank you sometimes, but that’s as far as he goes.
I don’t think he’d be very into choking, like I think he’d like having his hand on your throat but he wouldn’t want to actually stop your airway.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Bucky has eaten girls out a lot before. He likes to give you pleasure and make you an absolute mess under his touch. He could do it for hours and he knows all the right ways to make you cum.
However, he is an absolute sucker for getting head because he never really got it often. You love to do it and make it messy because he really does makes the prettiest sounds. He moans like a porn star when you get you lips on him.
He’ll moan out so loud when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag, yet try to relax to keep him warm. Drool comes down your chin and you pull off quickly. There is saliva everywhere and pre-cum, and you look absolutely fucked.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He varies. He does like it fast and rough. It always out Bucky in a better mood because he gets to let his frustration out. He’s such a grump sometimes and when he gets very moody, you drag him to your room and let him fuck you senseless.
Yet, there are moments when he slows down and takes hours just making you feel good. Bucky could spend forever just loving on your body and making you cum before making sweet love to you for hours.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He does like quickies when he can’t keep his hands off of you, but he prefers when he can’t thoroughly fuck you and ruin you. However, when you look so fucking good in that tight dress so he just has to flip up your skirt and fuck you relentlessly.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
It depends. He has some hard nos, but he likes to try new things. Bucky wants to be up to date and he likes that you are teaching him new things.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go to for? )
Oh man, oh man. He can go for days. He’s a super solider for Gods sake. He is the only guy to ever go more than three times in one night. He’s unbelievable and he always rocks your world.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He is unsure about toys. He likes being the one to give you pleasure, but he understands why you have them. However, you do show him how fun they can be. He overstimulated you for hours and that’s when he started to warm up to the idea of toys.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Bucky loves to tease you by working out in front of you. He goes shirtless and he does reps. He specifically works on his arms because he knows how much you love his biceps.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He makes the prettiest sounds when you suck him off, but when he’s actually fucking you, he grunts and groans quietly. He does dirty talk a lot.
“Sugar, you feel so fucking tight around my cock, it was like you were made for me.”
“You gonna cum around my cock, darling? Just can’t help it, can you? I just make you feel so fucking good.”
“Tell me how good you feel, babydoll. I’m the only one who gets to hear those pretty little moans of yours.”
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Bucky hasn’t been given head very often in his life because women in the 40s were very giving. There was a lot of criticism because women thought it was gross and dirty, but you are a whole new experience.
I also thing Bucky likes being called James by you in intimate settings.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Bucky is big in all aspects. I think he was average before he was a super solider, but the serum enhanced everything. He was always thick, but now he has the length to go with it. He absolutely ruined other men for you.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He is a hundred and six years old and probably hasn’t gotten laid in eighty years, he always wants to fuck. His drive is high and sometimes he feels insecure about it. Yet, you are always willing and eager for him.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
For some reason, I feel like Bucky goes a couple rounds and then reads a book with you before going to bed. It puts you right to sleep, but it takes him time to get to sleep. You like to sleep on top of him, curled against his body like you’re melted into him. Honestly, it makes him sleep better.
They beat the greatest threat against mankind, against the earth, against the universe.
They beat Thanos, together.
But what they lost, was immeasurable. For the Avengers and everyone who has sacrificed so much to win the mighty battle against the titan, the losses had almost outweighed the victory.
War was hell, and they didn’t feel the ramifications until after the dust had settled.
They won, but they lost so much more when there was peace.
There was a disease that came from nowhere, it was an illness that completely obliterated three-quarters of the earth’s population of women without warning.
The women that died from this disease, had died within days of contracting the illness. It swept all nations and demographics, it didn’t discriminate or leave anyone woman untouched.
Those that didn’t die, were left sterile. They were left completely infertile with no hope of ever reproducing, even with medical aid. Nothing took, nothing grew in barren wombs.
Three-quarters of the population of women in the world were wiped away. They were gone, wiped out by a disease that came and agonized, that outsmart Tony and Bruce and every genius mind on earth.
It took Pepper Potts, it took May Parker and Sharon Carter, it left Wanda infertile, it left Clint’s daughter and wife both infertile and without hope of ever having children again.
They beat Thanos, only to face extinction due to a disease.
They faced extinction on a basest, biological scale. No fertility, no kids and humanity’s end.
“There’s a reality that almost matches ours,” Dr. Strange had posed a solution that wasn’t exactly ethical in the sense that it required taking women.
But when their reality would crumble, when their world would die out when the youngest child took their last breath, what choice did they have?
The ends had to justify the means. The end had to justify their survival. They were left with no other choice, all options had run out.
“There’s a reality that matches ours only there never was Thanos. They weren’t plagued by Thanos or the threat in New York City,” Strange had offered a solution that blurred the lines between good and bad, morally right and morally wrong.
“They didn’t have Thanos and they didn’t have us. Their world is overpopulated, overcome by starvation and hunger pains that affect the poorest of the nations. Their population of women quadruple ours. Their population of women is equal if not more than the population of men, and every day in their reality, there are 385,000 children born per day. That’s 140 million per year.”
The reality they were going to take these women from would run out of resources for the population crammed on one planet. The resources would become strained, and the population wouldn’t slow down, it could skyrocket. Drought and rising food prices would lead to starvation, starvation would lead to tension and hoarding of resources that would lead to chaos and strife. The reality would become poisonous on its own as the rich grew richer and greedier, the poor would become sickly.
The end had to justify the means.
They needed women, the reality needed easing.
It was all planned carefully. It was all calculated. The necessary scans and tests to confirm eligibility were done from afar.
Once a year for a week, the avengers would cross the barrier and take women. They would steal them like a thief in the night and leave no trace behind.
Once a week for a year, the avengers would only take the women that were strong enough to adjust, strong enough to mentally, physically and emotionally handle the transition. They only took women that fell between the ages of 18-32, they only took women whose DNA and genetic makeup could support the enhanced DNA of any avengers who had wanted a future family, of any man who was able to truly care and protect for these women.
Humanity’s last hope.
The women taken were humanity’s last hope, and they would get treated as such, all the cards were in favour of the women.
To an extent, they could’ve asked for the world and it would be been given to them.
It was the least the Avengers could do considering what had to be done to them.
“Tell me again FRIDAY,” Steve was pressed against Bucky, his chest against Bucky’s back as the coolness from the vibration arm seeped through the plain cotton shirt Steve wore, into his skin. Goosebumps were rising onto his flesh although those could be credited to the picture on the holographic screen in front of them, the image of their girl.
“She’s beautiful,” Bucky whispered into Steve’s ear, his right hand tracing invisible patterns on his inner thigh, “and she’s ours.”
“Y/N L/N, born and raised in Ithaca, New York. Y/N moved to Brooklyn, New York after graduating high school. No known secondary school information known.” FRIDAY chirped, the information she was speaking about showing on the holographic screen.
“Age, FRIDAY.” Steve pushed back against Bucky, resting his head on his shoulder, easing into his lover’s arms.
“Born March 10th, Y/N L/N will be 26 this year,” FRIDAY responded, “birth certificates show Y/N was born at 2:37 in the morning, after a long 10-hour labour.”
The more they learned about you, the better they felt about the decision they had made. If their world was dying, or it would die by the lack of fertility in the world then the only reasonable option was to take from a reality that would succumb to starvation, drought and plagues.
The more they got to know you through the database provided to them about you, the quicker they became captivated by you. The tests that were done to prove comparability had been remarkable. They had resulted in such stellar results, that the two super soldiers had been informed that any children they did have would carry some of the same capabilities as their fathers.
You would carry strong children, you would carry great strength through your children and that gave them all hope.
No other woman, other than Tony’s new wife, had such good results.
“We share a birthday,” Bucky was prideful, he was eager to meet you though so was Steve.
Given how little hope the world had before this initiative, excitement was to be expected.
“FRIDAY,” Steve shuffled to sit up, calling on the AI again, “list of injuries.”
“Bruised ribs from being thrown into a door during an attempted escape, anxiety that is being treated through temporary medication as well as nausea from the effects of being pulled through the inter-reality bridge Doctor Strange had created.”
“Do you think she’ll be okay, Buck?” Steve mumbled, watching the small feed that was provided by Natasha’s cam built into her stealth suit.
They watched as the man you were with shielded you with his body, held your hand like he was afraid to let go. The man you were with had protected you, he made you feel safe.
And then he pushed you. He pushed you into that door to give you a chance to get away from them, with the solid and clear action to ‘run’ away from Natasha, to run from them.
As if they wouldn’t find you, as if they wouldn’t track you down.
You belonged with them.
“She’ll be fine,” Bucky bent his head to press a soft kiss to Steve’s lips when he angled his head to look at Bucky, “she needs time to heal and adjust. FRIDAY and Vision have run the numbers, they’ve run the simulations and in every instance, they’ve all grown to live a happy and fulfilled life.”
“With no regrets about where they are,” FRIDAY chirped, “Mr. Stark wanted me to inform you that she was awake.”
“We’ll be there in 10.” Bucky had all but mumbled into Steve’s hair.
“Now or never, pal.” Steve shift himself on the bed, hovering above Bucky with a fond smile on his face and his eyes bouncing from Bucky’s to his lips and back again.
“With you until the end of the line,” Bucky wove his hand into the hairs at the nape of Steve’s neck and pulled him closer, mumbling the famous line that saw them through so much in their lives, into his lips.
Danny’s face was not the last face toy had seen, it was hers. It was that woman with the almost white-blonde hair that was cut to frame her face and the green eyes that pierced through you. The face of the woman who hushed you and promised that they would make sure you forgot the old life, the old reality.
You didn’t have to think about what she said. You didn’t have time to even put up a fight before you were forcibly knocked out unconscious by whatever noxious gas was inside that orb she had in her hand. Whatever it was, had kept you under for hours, maybe even longer you didn’t know.
You didn’t know what happened or what may have happened until consciousness greet you. All it took was you sitting up and studying the room you were in to know that you weren’t having a fever dream.
The room itself was either white or made of glass so clear there wasn’t a speck of dust marring the surface. The view to your left was a forest with green-leaved trees that were in thick bundles, creating a staggering density. The treeline stretched for what could’ve been miles, a natural wall that was built to surround wherever you were in the safety of thick trunks and spindly branches.
Besides the view, the room you were in was rather large and given your vitals that we’re displayed on one half of the wall-to-wall clear glass, you assumed you were in some kind of hospital.
However, you didn't know of any medical advances that could’ve explained the mechanized arm that was scanning your body from head to toe with a near-silent whir, before it retreat into the wall.
“What the hell is this?” You pushed yourself toward the edge of the hospital bed you were once sleeping on, wincing when you felt a sharp pain in your left side.
You remembered it all, the white-blonde woman with the piercing green eyes, Danny trying to shield you from view, Danny throwing you into the door to give you a means of escape and your attackers dragging you out from under the desk.
“I’m sensing some anxieties. Do you require medication to ease your symptoms?” a voice that was computer generated yet so personified, chirped through the flush speaker built into the ceiling.
“Hello?!” you gripped the bed as you struggled to stand, every inch of your body hurting and shaking. “I don’t…I don’t know where I am…”
There was silence for a moment, the only sound in the hospital room was the steady beeping of the glass displaying your vitals. You thought that perhaps the voice coming from the speakers was only allowed to be a medical aid and that it wouldn't answer your question, however, when you heard the chirping again, you were proven wrong.
“You are in the medical wing of the Avenger’s Compound being carefully monitored until your injuries are diagnosed and you are released into the care of Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes.”
“Who?” Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips formed a frown. “Who are…Captain Bernes and Sergeant Rogers?”
“Captain Rogers – informally known as the first avenger, was born July 1st, 1918, in Brooklyn, New York. Captain Rogers fell into the ice during world war 2 and reemerged in 2011, to fight in the battle of New York where the Chitauri army descended upon-”
“What are you talking about?” Your confusion hit a high point as the AI rambled on about some attack on NYC that you knew for a fact never happened. You knew for an absolute fact that nothing she said was true because you would’ve studied it in school, you would’ve heard about it in the news and seen the destruction in pictures.
“I am telling you about Captain Rogers. Perhaps you would like to hear about Sergeant Barnes next?” the AI’s chirping paused for a moment before she continued.
“Sergeant Barnes was born on March 10th, 1917 in Brooklyn, New York. After being drafted into the second world war, Sergeant Barnes met his untimely death after falling from a train during a mission with the Howling Commandos. After being found in the snow by the organization called Hydra, Sergeant Barnes was brainwashed and turned into the Winter Soldier, a deadly assassin that did Hydra’s bidding-”
“Why am I going to be released into their care?” you were getting a headache that started at the base of your skull and was quickly shooting up to consume your entire head in throbbing, excruciating pain.
“Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes have selected you among the pool of women available-” the AI was cut off and the chirp went silent.
You turned to face the voice behind you, your gaze falling upon two towering men and a woman with white-blonde hair, all of them watching you watch them.
The two men were almost equal in height and physical size, with the blonde being just an inch taller possibly. The blonde had a strong jaw and well-defined nose, a set of blue-green eyes that almost looked as if they could match the tropical oceans that drew so many into their depths.
The brunette was as physically imposing as the blonde, with massive shoulders and firm, toned biceps and pectoral’s that made him seem as if he was a gladiator instead of a man, come to rip his enemies to shreds and dine on their blood. Unlike the blonde, the brunette’s eyes were as blue as the sky on a clear morning with nary a cloud in sight.
But it was the female that got your full attention. It was the female who stirred the fight or flight instinct in you. It was the white-blonde woman who had been responsible for why you were here. It was the blonde woman who had cut off you and Danny and it was the blonde woman who was responsible for knocking you out.
“Y/N put down the tray,” the blonde woman spoke of the metal tray sitting on the rolling table beside your bed, “you’re going to get anxious-“
You picked up the tray and threw it toward the glass wall with all the might you could manage while dealing with so much pain. You threw it as hard as you could against the glass wall that separated you from them. As the tray made contact with the glass wall, it hadn’t shattered as you wanted, instead, the tray slid right through and went skidding across the floor.
“Do you feel better?” She asked, tapping something on a panel that appeared in front of her.
“I’d feel better if you choked on whatever bullshit you’re trying to pull.” Your hatred for this woman was substantiated and as far as you saw it, she was the reason you were in this situation.
I’m super stressed with the end of my semester, so what about “Bucky tries to make you forget about college and your finals”?
Pairing: Roommate Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI
A/n: sinday drabble. Do not copy, repost, translate or rewrite any of my work. By continuing to read you are confirming you are an adult 18 years or older. College AU
Buckys been your roommate since freshman year. You both needed a decent yet cheap place to stay close to campus. You hate and love living with him. He’s the perfect roommate, clean and considerate, he pays more than his share and always springs for extra groceries and takeout.
He’s so fucking handsome. And well built. His thick, muscular body haunts your dreams. Nothing like him coming in from an early morning run, his shorts clinging to his ass while he wipes sweat off his abs. You try not to gawk while he asks if you want him to make breakfast.
It’s been three long years of him walking around the apartment half-naked, girls in and out of his room at all hours of the day and the walls are thin. If you don’t hear some overly dramatic moans from his latest conquest, you hear him. At night.
Soft breathy groans that have your core throbbing as you squirm over your sheets. You can picture his hand working his cock with his knees bent while he’s flat on the bed.
Not that you think about him at night with your hand down your panties. Nope. You do not think about Bucky making you cum on his tongue.
With finals coming up, you haven’t had time to think about your roommate. You haven’t had time to do much at all. And you are frustrated.
You can tell he’s getting irritated with your constant complaining but you. can’t. stop.
In fact, he’s been listening to you rant about your professor for the past half hour, you’ve ignored his requests to let him watch his game.
“Please, it’s almost over.”
You snap your mouth shut with an audible click. Bucky closes his eyes, muttering thank you. His large body sinking into the couch as the tiny men on the screen run back and forth. Not even a minute passes before you speak.
“I’m just saying Bucky, its’ not fair- ahh” your whine ends in a yelp when he jumps up.
Furious blue eyes glare down at you. “You need to relax.” You swallow nervously when he leans down, caging between two large plush cushions. “And you need to shut up.”
“Hey.” It's a weak protest, one you quickly drop when he gives you a pointed look.
He brushes the side of your face with his knuckles. “I’ll help you do both.”
You watch, mesmerized by his tongue peeking out of his mouth to wet his bottom lip. “You want that dollface, you want me to help you?”
Bucky grabs your throat, and you ache. His warm, large hand curves perfectly around your neck, the sheer dominance, his large body hovering over your combined with his fresh evergreen cologne is a dangerous combination.
“Use your words.” He states, squeezing lightly.
You gasp out. “I want your help. Please.”
Bucky gets even closer, you can count his long eyelashes when he blinks, a slow grin stretching across his face. His eyes darkening when he brings your face to his. “I’ve been thinking about your pussy for years dollface.” Fuck. “I’m going to give you a little sample of what I’m capable of. “Fuck me. “And if you pass all your classes, Ill fuck your brains until you can’t fucking walk.” Yes. Please. “Do you want that?”
“Words.” He demands, kneeling between your calves, ripping off your shorts and panties before wrapping his hand back around your throat. “Now.”
“Yes, Bucky. I do.” You say, damn you’ll study all night to earn his cock, you’re willing to do anything for him, spreading your legs even further apart. He’s looking at your pussy as if it were the most tantalizing thing he’s ever seen. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and inhales you.
You startle when his tongue flits out of his mouth and moves up your clit. You feel him chuckle between your folds and he applies a little more pressure to your throat. He moves slowly, using his tongue to explore your glistening pussy. It feels so good. The way he traces over your bud before dipping his thick wet muscle into your core, his nose brushing through your folds.
But it’s not enough. “Bucky please.” You whine softly, pushing your hips up.
Feral passionate eyes snap up and stare up at you. Your stomach drops from the intensity of his gaze. You have no warning for what’s about to happen.
He squeezes your throat, his lips latching onto your clit, and sucks it so hard into his mouth your back arches off the couch, two long fingers push into your cunt and he drags his fingers along your walls.
Your hands fly to his head, grabbing his soft locks, pushing him into you as you beg him not to stop.
He alternates between soft, light licks and fierce pulls of your swollen bud that have you wailing and trembling. His fingers curling deep within you, he can just hear the wet sloshing of your cunt over your wanton sobs and strangled moans.
The coil spirals tighter and hotter within in you until it snaps and you shatter under his tongue.
He’s doesn’t stop even when you gush all over his face, if anything he doubles down, sending you over the edge again and again until you’re pleading that you can’t take anymore. He shakes his head, determined to make you cum one more time.
He doesn’t stop to breathe.
Then he finds your sweet spot, the rough pad of his index finger rubbing it over and over. “Oh shit, Buck-Bucky, yes right the- “ You yank his hair when your orgasm burns through you, white-sultry heat rushing through your nerves, you feel it down to your toes. Legs locked around his head, thighs quivering, his name a silent scream on your lips.
When he finally lets you go, your eyes are glazed over as you pant, unable to move or speak. Bucky lays you down on the couch, putting his football sweatshirt over you as a makeshift blanket, and props your feet in his lap.
He turns back to the screen and leans back. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand and licks his fingers clean. Looking over at your sleeping face, he smirks. “You better pass, dollface.”
Summary: A slow rainy day at a local cafe picks up when your favorite customer comes in.
Word Count: 659
Warnings: None, just a little fluffy moment
A/N: I’m sorry for another short one, I’m considering starting a series, but i wanna map the plot out before i start writing. In the meantime, please send any requests or aus you wanna see.
It was a slow day at the shop, a rainy Sunday morning, not many people going into work or out to get their coffee, opting to stay in their beds in their warm dry houses. You liked working on days like this, there was no rush of cranky customers already running late for work, just the regulars ordering their drink and quickly leaving or finding a spot to spend their rainy morning. You nodded along to the lo-fi music that complimented the low whir of the machinery on the counters around you. You had been working at the local cafe for almost a year now, opting to open whenever you could, as much as you were overwhelmed by the rushes, the calm moments made up for it, and the free coffee and pastries didn't hurt. You were pulled from your thoughts by the chime of the door. You hopped down from your place on the counter and moved to the register. You looked up, eyes meeting a familiar blue pair, a smile found its way onto your face.
“Good morning Bucky!” you greeted, he was dressed in his usual dark grey Henley, dark jeans, and heavy work boots, he stood out from the neutral browns that the café was decorated with. But, also standing out as your favorite customer, visiting almost every morning you worked, ordering a simple black coffee and sitting at the bar. You usually saw him reading classic literature, scribbling in a small notebook, or struggling with a laptop. Sometimes he’d ask for help attaching a file to an email, or how to search for something. You found it charming, you often checked on him when he was working, just as an excuse to talk to him. “Just a black coffee?” You asked, already knowing the answer. He smiled and nodded before sliding you a five dollar bill, the drink was only $1.50 but you knew not to argue knowing he’d insist that you keep the change. He sat in his usual seat, pulling out The Great Gatsby as you placed a ceramic mug on the coaster in front of him.
“Gatsby, huh? Didn’t you just start To Kill a Mockingbird?” You teased, pushing at the spine of the book in his metal hand so you could get a better look at the cover.
“On Wednesday, have you read it?” He always asked you when he finished it, if you haven't he’d give it to you and tell you you should, if you have, he’d ask you what you thought and tell you his opinions. You nodded in response, explaining you did back in high school for class. Before he could continue, another guest walked in and ordered a long list of complicated drinks to go. You looked at Bucky one more time before starting the drinks, he gave you a quick smile then continuing to read. As you worked on the drinks, you caught Bucky looking at you then quickly going back to his book a few times, each time you smiled to yourself.
“Something on your mind?” You asked him after handing the tray of drink off.
“Hmm, no,” he dismissed.
“Then why do you keep looking at me like you wanna say something?” You pushed with a smirk. He placed the book face down, as to not lose his pace and gave you his signature smirk back.
“When do you get off?” He questioned leaning back on the barstool, turning the empty mug in his hands.
“At 1” You answered, trying to come off as cool and confident, even though your head was stirring.
“Can I take you to lunch?” He tilted his head and leaned back forward, elbows rested on the bar and his eyes staring into yours. You couldn't help but break in a grin and start nodding eagerly. You had been wanting him to ask you out since the first time you laid eyes on him.
Hello there! I saw your soft prompts and I wanted to request Bucky Barnes with hands kisses and Adore you by Harry Styles if it's no problem <3
pairing: bucky barnes x reader ♡
genre: fluffy fluff ♡
summary: nervous bucky is an adorable bucky ♡
word count: 667 ♡
a/n: i hope you enjoy this and it satisfies you ♡ here’s the song if you wish to listen while you read ♡ have a great day!
*image above is not mine ♡*
a plethora of stars heavily thronged the open night sky above your head. it was nearing past midnight. you had been out on a late night date with bucky, your boyfriend. he’d taken you to see a drive-in movie like the ones he’d experienced in the 40’s. you were elated at how happy he looked seeing something so familiar and close to home. he’d even done something he’d never done before with you. when a particularly romantic scene in the movie came up, he wrapped his arm around you and placed his head against yours. it was such a casual and subtle movement, but it made your stomach swim with too many butterflies to count. when the credits had started rolling, bucky had even leaned over and pecked the top of your head. by the time you had left, your whole body was beaming with glee. you felt like dancing to a bunch of happy songs in your bedroom and never stopping!
“will i see you next weekend?”
you blinked rapidly when you realized bucky was talking to you. the two of you were now standing in front of your apartment, a looming, grey building with creaky floors and dull windows. bucky had been inside before and he’d seemed comfortable there, saying it felt like a good home to stay in. you were proud that he found your living quarters peaceful. you hoped one day you could get a home to stay in with him and that he’d feel the same way about it as well.
“yep,” you pecked his cheek. “you can bet on it! how about we go to that one restaurant you liked? the one with the really cheesy pasta?”
“oh yeah,” bucky’s face beamed at the memory. “i’d like that, doll. thank you.”
“of course!” you reached forward, letting your fingers slide against his. he tightened his hand around yours, pulling you flush against his body. he dipped his head, raising your hand to his lips and letting them press against your skin. you loved when he was so close to you, when you could catch every whiff of his scent. it was something you could only describe as specifically and magically bucky. it was amazing. when he straightened himself back up again, his gorgeous blue eyes were glimmering in the moonlight. you thought he looked like he’d walked straight out of a romance movie, but you knew if you told him he wouldn’t really believe you.
“can i ask you something, baby?”
you nodded, watching as bucky put the hand that wasn’t cautiously holding yours in his pocket. a few strands of his gloriously shiny black hair fell in his eyes. he looked nervous, small shades of red beginning to tint his cheeks. it was adorable.
“my – uhm – well, i know – y-you – you know sam, right?” his perfect pink lips parted as he timidly caught his breath.
“yeah,” you replied, easily remembering the kind and brave man who bucky had introduced you too. “he’s captain america, bucky! i can’t exactly forget that. you went to his cookout after all that flag smashers stuff finished.”
“well i – yeah, i did go to his cookout – um – he’s celebrating his nephew’s birthday and he said i could bring you – if you want to go – i mean – damn, i didn’t ask yet – um –”
“yes, bucky,” you whispered. you reached up to gingerly kiss his mouth. “i’ll go with you.” when you pulled away, the smile spreading across his face was blinding. he reached forward, lifting you up and spinning you in a circle. the laughs and giggles spraying from your mouth were cut off when he kissed you, his mouth surging to meet yours. you kissed him back just as eagerly, throwing your arms around him and holding him close.
there was no place in the world you’d rather be than in the arms of james buchanan barnes.
lucky for you, there was no one else he’d rather stay in the whole world with than you.
I'm making cream puffs today but the last step of the recipe just says "stuff with cream" and I'm having so many biker!Bucky thots. "Stuff with cream? Yeah, I'll stuff your puff, baby."
Why. Are. You. Attacking. Me.
(Don't stop ily)
NSFW under the cut
You should have known better than to let Bucky help. What should have taken an hour max has now extended into three hours. You have flour in places it was never meant to be; the kitchen is a disaster.
All because one giant, burly man can’t keep his hands to himself.
You’ve never had more fun.
Your stomach hurts from laughing so hard, Bucky had the prettiest grin on his chocolate smudged face. His eyes sparkling as he scrunches his nose at you, playfully asking if you want to lick the frosting off his chest.
“In a sec let’s finish this.” You giggle, turning your back to him to look at the recipe.
You bend over, placing your elbows on the messy counter next to the tray of desserts.
Bucky loosens his gray sweatpants, letting them pool around his feet, quietly stepping out of them while you read aloud. Engrossed in your recipe, you don’t realize how silent he is.
“Stuff with cream.” You innocently say, tapping the words with your index finger. “Bucky, can you help me stuff these.” You call out reaching across the counter for the bag.
Bucky slaps your ass, the sting making you cry out. “Wha- “You splutter.
“I’m going to stuff you, doll.” He chuckles, the unmistakable lust in his voice makes your knees buckle. “Give you all the cream you want.”
You look over your shoulder with a smirk. “You wanna fill me up, Sarge?”
Bucky loves when you sass him. He’s all over you, panties ripped off and tossed on the table, legs kicked parted, rough, thick fingers teasing your clit until you’re begging for his cock.
When he finally gives you what you want, you almost cum right then and there beside your now ruined pantries. His strokes fast and deep, you’re so good and tight that he can barely pull out of you.
The counter biting into your skin with every thrust. It’s frantic and filthy, the sound of slapping skins drifting out the open kitchen window followed by you screaming his name.
Then he cums deep inside, filling you up telling you to take all his cock like a good fucking girl. When he pulls out, it drips out of your swollen pussy.
Buckys not done.
He kneels down and watches it come out of your spasming cunt. “So pretty doll.” He mutters to himself, unable to stop his hand from cupping your mound, feeling you throb against him. Bucky sinks two long ringed fingers into your core, pushing his cum back inside.
Sarah ran her soft fingertips over his metallic arm, simply contemplating all the majestical things he could do with it in the bedroom. Blushing at her own thoughts she quickly shook it off and pulled away. “Are you ready to help?”
It was the largest gathering that the small town in New Orleans had ever seen! Sam had invited his distant cousins from most of the neighboring cities. The Wilson family cook out was a popular event and was even crowned the most famous tourist spot of the summer! Only contested by the Louisiana folks during the majorly eventful Bayou festival in mid May.
The small dock erupted in cheers and laughter as Hey Ya! by OutKast blasted loudly, consuming the crowd and forcing everyone to the center of the dock.
“What you young-ins know about this jam!” Sam slid from the back of the boat, four cases of Corona beers in both hands, with a contented grin plastered onto his face. Aj and Cass not too far behind.
“Where’s your mother anyway? Y’all been stuck with me all day.” Sam arched a confused brow at the two boys who shrugged their tiny shoulders in unison. “Last - I saw her with Uncle Bucky, packing the food.” Aj said before grabbing his brother’s hand and leading him to the center of the dance circle.
“Uncle Bucky?” Both of Sam’s brows shot up his forehead. “When did he get here?” He whispered to himself, when he placed the cases by the cooler on the table - and began his quest for his sister and his best friend.
“This is my famous king crab Bucky.” Sarah shot a pearly white smile as she lathered the crab in spicy garlic butter sauce. She then gently stacked them onto one another in an oversized foil plate.
It was the time of the year where all of the eligible bachelorettes would slither their way to the dock in search of their “future husbands.” Sarah had already taken her loses and retired from the game - ever since the death of her husband. However, today seemed special, it was the first time in years that her stomach knotted in curls from butterflies so much so, that she thought she’d puke. Her youth sprung about anytime Bucky was around, similarly to a school girl with her very first crush. He just brought out the best in her, so she decided why not look the part.
Sam had mentioned to her that her skin glistened whenever she wore the color yellow. Despite how out of character it was for him to be so blunt about literally - anything, Sarah decided to take his advice and throw on her favorite off shoulder cut, form fitting sun dress. Her long senegalese twists were tied into a high bun and wrapped in a yellow ribbon that flowed behind her in pure elegance.
Turning the corner of her bedroom - on her way to the kitchen, she was greeted by a well dressed Bucky in a tight blue knit sweater that hugged his body in all the right places! And dark black jeans that displayed his full basketball trunk. He stood over a boiling pot of king crabs on the stove. Clearing her throat quite loudly, she caught his attention almost immediately. As he turned to face her his eyes widened in astonishment, almost as if he had sinfully taken a peak at the worlds most beautiful piece of treasure.
“Wow,” was all Bucky could muster when gravity became the main puppeteer, forcefully drawing them towards one another. He smiled sheepishly and continued “you look lovely Sarah.” Returning his grin she replied “and you don’t look so bad yourself, Uncle Bucky.”
Pulling him into a tight embrace Bucky’s chin rested in the corner of Sarah’s neck. He took in the scent of her sweet Vanilla Bean cologne. If he could have his way, he would have swallowed her whole that very instant. He wished for nothing more than to have her succumbed to his own desires, clawing his name on his back as she screams in pure ecstasy. Bucky swayed rhythmically with her movements, it took all of his energy not to instinctively plant a soft kiss between her neck and trail.
Sarah ran her soft fingertips over his metallic arm, simply contemplating all the majestical things he could do with it in the bedroom. Blushing at her own thoughts she quickly shook it off and pulled away. “Are you ready to help?”
“When I’m done with this batch, can you wrap it in aluminum foil and carry it to the front table for our guests?” Sarah faced the stove top, her back turned to a confused Bucky, who watched her work in utter amazement.
Bucky was familiar with crab as a cuisine, and had tasted a fair share of it during his time in Wakanda. However, he had never seen it prepared before him.
“So does it like ... cry or anything when you place it in the boiling water ... alive?” He asked innocently, when Sarah sighed in disbelief and sat the lathering brush onto the table. Her heart fluttered at his innocence, but her mind pondered in continuous confusion. She wondered just how much Bucky had missed out on in the last 70 years or just seemingly had minimal to no experience on. Turning to face him a smile crept its way up her plump lips as she answered nonchalantly “I don’t have an answer for you Bucky.”
His blue eyes glistened in curiosity as they scanned over Sarah’s features, she was unlike any woman that he had ever seen. From her bright dark brown eyes to the cute little indentation by her nose, Bucky found himself lost in their tight gaze. Until he eventually landed on Sarah’s plush pink lips. Sarah noticed Bucky’s observance and smiled shyly. Her cheeks flushed when she subconsciously ran her tongue over her lips. Of course she wanted to grapple Bucky right then and there, she had wanted to do so since she first laid eyes on the man. But one of her biggest fears was getting involved with a hero. She already had her plate full with Sam, was she really ready to add another burden to the list?
“There you guys are!” Sam grinned and pulled Sarah into a tight embrace “I was beginning to worry.”
“Aw Sam, you missed me, how sweet.” Bucky winked as Sam glared his way. Placing the trays of king crabs with roasted corn and potatoes, buttermilk biscuits and cajun shrimp onto the table, Sarah called for the event goers to each grab a plate and head for the grub.
Sam handed both Bucky and Sarah a pair of gloves before taking a seat at the edge of the table. He pinched Aj and Cass’s noses when they playfully snatched his plate from before him. “Y’all better stop playing before I tell your mama to send you to bed early.” He smiled when they took a seat next to him.
He watched bewildered by his sisters boldness when she took a seat by Bucky. Running her finger tips over his armored arm, he noticed that she began to play her fingers through her twists. Her grin from ear to ear as she engaged in conversation with Bucky, the same thing she used to do when she had a crush on a boy in high school.
“So where’s the crab opener?” Bucky asked, facing Sam who’s face scrunched in utter disgust. Sarah bursted into a fit of laughter when Aj and Cass joined as well.
“We don’t use that utensil around these parts, buddy.” Bucky’s brow arched in confusion when Sam picked up a crab leg and ripped it in half with one tug. “You see here?” He placed the piece into his mouth and used his teeth to crack the shell methodically, in an instant the entire meat was stripped from the leg. “Now that’s how you eat a crab leg! Let me see you do it.”
All eyes were now glued onto Bucky as he studied the crab leg. His blue eyes narrowed when he used his metal arm to pick up the leg and snapped it in half effortlessly. Sarah’s eyes widened as she watched Bucky smile contently to himself. He placed the crab to his lips, intricately running his tongue over every square inch of it. He shot Sarah a mischievous smirk, before pulling it out with a loud plop! “Tasty.”
Sarah flushed immediately, inching her way out of her seat. While Sam glared intently, picking up a piece of shrimp and sulking in his defeat.
Hey hon. I hope you’re still doing the requests for the Pet series. Can I have a scenario where y/n misbehaves with Steve for the first time and he has to figure out how to discipline her properly? He might even give Bucky a call for advice ...💜
Caught - Pet
I started writing this an hour before I got the request omg
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He was supposed to be working, he wasn’t supposed to come over today, Y/N thought, her eyes wide, body frozen. Her legs were on each side of the arm of the couch, her hands gripping the large cushions at the back.
“Steve, have you seen this?”
Y/N squeezed her eyes shut as Steve’s footsteps echoed through the house. He marched forward, the hand towel thrown over his shoulder. As soon as he saw Y/N in her position, her black panties against the arm of the couch, he raised his eyebrows.
“What am I looking at here?” He challenged, coming to stand beside Bucky.
The dark haired man smirked and took careful steps forward. “Found her like this, Stevie. Trying to get herself off without your permission. Like a Bad girl.” Y/N whimpered at the words. She wasn’t a bad girl, never a bad girl.
The wet spot on her panties proved otherwise. “Oh Puppy.” Steve smirked, shaking his head. “What’re we gonna do with you?”
“Please,” was all she managed to whimpered our, practically falling from the couch to get to him. Her hands grasped at his shirt, trying to hold herself up on shaky legs. Steve took a hold of her elbows, stopping her from falling to her knees.
“Baby doll wants to get off,” Bucky said from behind them. “Let’s help her get off.”
Suddenly Y/N was laying on the couch, clothes gone from her body. Bucky was between her legs, sucking and licking at her thighs while Steve had her head in his lap, keeping her still. His hands plays with her breasts, pinching and pulling at her nipples. She moaned as Bucky got closer and closer to where she needed him most.
His fingers traced over her clothed core before pulling her panties down her legs. “Off the arm of the couch, baby doll,” he growled and pulled her up. Wrapping her legs around him, Bucky held onto her thighs and sat on the couch. He leaned back and rolled his hips, pressing his bulge against her.
The sounds that were leaving her lips were like music to Bucky’s ears. He flipped up her skirt and did away with her bralette, revealing her breasts to him.
Taking a nipple into his mouth, Bucky pushed his finger past her wet folds. He fucked her with it, pushing his thumb against her clit as she rode his finger.
All Steve could do was watch. He was unbelievably hard, cock straining against his jeans as he watched his puppy bounce on Bucky’s finger. Licking his lips, he strode forward. He pushed her hair away from her back and kissed the skin there tenderly. His hands travelled down her body, over her ass and finally to her pussy.
Once Bucky saw what Steve was doing he pulled his finger out and concentrated on her clit. He watched Steve insert two fingers, using her already wet hole to slide right in. Instantly Y/N began bouncing, soft mewls and whines leaving her lips. Her legs and body began to twitch as Steve curled his fingers, hitting her in all the right places. “Stevie,” she let out a breathy whisper, her head back against his shoulder.
Her walls fluttered around his fingers, pulsing, trying to keeping him there. Locking eyes with each other, both men pulled away. They stood up, standing Y/N up with them.
She nearly collapsed to her knees. Her legs were shaky with the approach of her orgasm, the energy now pent up, desperate for a release. A release she knew she wasn’t going to get. “Go and get the lead, Buck,” Steve said and Bucky walked off.
Whimpering, Y/N pressed herself against her owner. She nuzzled his neck and his cheek, holding onto his arm. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, please please!”
“Sorry, Puppy,” smirked Steve. “You know bad girls get punished.”
“Won’t do it again,” she promised with wide eyes.
That was when Bucky came around the corner, the chain in his hands. He wasted no time in clipping one end to Y/N’s black collar and giving the other to Steve. “On your knees, puppy.” He spat, the spit falling onto her back.
So how I know I’m on some hoe shit right now. I really want Bucky to slowly fuck me and when he’s balls deep into my shit I want him to press on my stomach and say the corny ass line that is “you feel me right in here” good god star I need some fucking help
You need help? How can I help you when I need help too???? NSFW under the cut
He would be so smug listening to you whimper. “What’s wrong, kitten?” He smirked in your ear, voice a near growl, you can feel the rumble in chest.
Bucky's so deep in your tight cunt that you feel him everywhere, but it’s not enough, Bucky wants to fucking ruin you tonight. He wants you to feel him tomorrow when you’re getting up; he wants you to feel him for the rest of the week, so he lifts your leg higher and higher until your thighs burn.
“S’good wrapped around my cock, kitten,” he groans so vulgarly that you clench down even harder. He rewards you for being such a good girl. His strokes tightening the coil in your belly.
He puts your hand against your belly, pressing it down. “You feel me right in there, right where I belong, huh? This is all mine.” His hips snap up into you and he goes even deeper in your body until you shake from the force, almost feral with the need to cum. “Fuckin’ perfect made just for me weren’t you kitten.”
His voice is the last thing you hear before stars explode behind your eyes, your orgasms rendering you speechless.
WARNINGS: abduction, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)
A/N: it’s short and still not as exciting as it is about to become but we gotta build a ✨ foundation✨ first. hope you enjoy xx
> NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST
Bucky was standing in the kitchen, back leaned against the counter of the kitchen with his eyes on the girl who was currently sat in his couch with a badly bandaged hand. He was never good at first aid, he hadn’t been good at it with his sister and he definitely hadn’t been good with her, yet he thought it would be best than let her bleed out onto her costume which she still hadn’t taken out and that included her wig. He knew what hair looked like, he could see it in the back of his mind from the dark costume room, her hair pushed back into the same hairstyle most of the girls in the opera house had. Yet he also knew that getting out of her costume was the last thing going in her mind despite him not knowing at all what was going on in her head. She just stood in silence, looking at the wall of the TV but the TV was off, despite the fact the remote was next to her.
What was he even supposed to do with her? He couldn’t tie her to the bed or hide her in the basement, he didn’t have a basement. Besides, he didn’t know whenever she’d actually be used as a trading chip so he didn’t know how long he would have to babysit her. How was he even supposed to do John’s bidding if he had to keep an eye on her? It wasn’t like he could leave, she would try to escape. Heck, she’d even try to escape when he was in the apartment. This was a mess, a mess he needed to clean, a mess he didn’t know how to clean.
The door bell was the first sound in that flat for 2 hours and he sighed out of relief he could finally leave and not have to stare at her and her Bambi like stare. Damned Billy.
- She’s a runner. - Bucky said as he opened the door, a stunned Billy walking in like a scared little mouse. - I’ll be gone for two hours. Make sure she’s okay, not bleeding and definitely not escaping.
Billy nodded his head like a bobble doll, standing stiff by the door as Bucky grabbed the keys to his bike and left. Y/N finally looked up, away from the wall and at Billy. He couldn’t be older than her, and if he were, he couldn’t be more than a year or two older than her. He had shaggy hair and eyes which were filled with insecurity and fear yet a facade of strength which he definitely did not have. She should’ve been mad at him, after all he was the one who misunderstood the assignment (whatever it was) and got her hostage. Yet, she merely saw a boy who was scared, perhaps as scared as she was.
- I’m Y/N. - she pipped up as if the two of them were co-workers who were just meeting.
- Is that a nickname or a name ... you know like Billy Bigelow.
- Billy Bigelow’s a wife beater. - he snickered. - My name’s William but they call me Billy.
- Do you like being called Billy? I can call you William if you want.
- I like being called Will but John said it sounds childish. - he clarified, slightly kicking the air like a petulant child.
- I like Will better. - she moved towards the end of the couch, patting the pillow next to her. - Do you wanna sit?
- He doesn’t like it when people sit in his couch.
- Well .. I’m sat in the couch and he didn’t say anything, besides, how would he even know you were sat in the couch.
There wasn’t much she knew about the man who had been overseeing her. She didn’t even knew his name other than the “Soldat” nickname she’d heard John call him. It wasn’t like she particularly cared about knowing him, after all he was the one who was keeping her hostage and he was also the one who had kept her alive. Yet, at this point she wondered if being alive was a faith worse than being dead. How bad is death anyway, she pondered. Maybe it hurts to leave, but it doesn’t hurt to stay dead. She wanted to believe in what he had told her, she wanted to believe that all of this was just a big nightmare, it was just a hiccup in her path. She was gonna go back, she was going back, she had to go back. She had no choice but to go back.
Her eyes lingered on the broken window, covered by a piece of cardboard tapped to the broken glass, a shattering reminder that she had failed at escaping, had failed at leaving. She should’ve fought harder to escape, she should’ve said no when the main soprano asked her for help. She should’ve just ... done what she was hired to do. The mere thought of the opera house made her eyes swell with tears. She had been so close.
- I’m sorry. - Will blurted out, his words causing her to immediately wipe her eyes before the tears could actually roll down. - I screwed up, didn’t mean to ruin your shot.
- That’s ... that’s fine. - she breathed out. - They’re gonna let me go at some point, right? They can’t keep me forever.
- Yeah, eventually someone else will screw up. - he scratched the back of his neck. - It’s nice he didn’t tie you down or handcuff you to the bed.
- It’s a nice ... arrangement, I guess.
- Do you wanna watch Carousel? It’s always rerunning on channel 6.
- Are we allowed to watch TV? If you’re not allowed on the couch, I doubt the TV is a yes.
- He won’t know.
The beginning of the film was bittersweet as it immediately took her back to better days. Back to when she rented her very first flat in New York while a sophomore at Julliard, when she only had her laptop and a few pillows which made the very old studio flat look like a home, she would sit down in the worn out mattress with her laptop and watch old golden age musicals dreaming of the time she would be on stage. The beginning notes of the overture only brought her back to nights when the rain was harshly falling down on the rain and she was sat in her, open books of several opera music theories lightened up by the low blue light of her laptop. She had fought so hard and she was going to fight even harder to get out of this. She was going to be back in those grounds and with heavy, sleep filled eyes, she swore she would get back to the stage.
Bucky parked the bike by the sidewalk, sighing as he realised he was not going to an empty home, the same empty home he had fought for. He liked peace and quiet, he liked to be surrounded by nothing but him and his thoughts yet now he had to come back to some girl staying in his house who was keen on breaking all off his windows. Just what he needed, someone coming into his home to fix the window. How was he going to achieve that?
He opened the door and threw the keys somewhere onto the table near the door. Billy was standing up by the couch, Carousel was playing on the TV and she was sleeping on the couch, surrounded by the fabric of the costume she still hadn’t taken off. Not that she had anything to change into.
- She’s sweet. - Billy rubbed the sole of his shoe against the ground.
- You think all girls are sweet. - Bucky walked to his kitchen, making himself a glass of whiskey. - You old enough to drink, kid?
- I have to drive back home.
- She behaved? - he moved the glass in her direction, eyes lingering a bit too long on her sleeping figure.
- She fell asleep mid the film. Hm ... I’m gonna go. Thanks for everything, Bucky, specially with John.
- You should get going, kid. Your mother and father will worry.
The sound of the closed door left the two of them alone once again. What was he supposed to do with her? How was he even supposed to do his ... his duties if he constantly needed someone to watch her so she doesn’t try to escape? Where is he even supposed to find someone to watch her? Kidnappingvictims babysitting.com? He sighed out of frustration, whipping his head in her direction almost upset she existed; yet, looking at her sleeping form calmed down his features.
He put the glass in the sink, walking to his couch where she was. Somehow he always ended up in tricky situations and this had to be in the top 5 worst decisions. Yet, she didn’t deserve dying, she didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t her fault any of this had happened. She was just at the wrong place, she was just somewhere she shouldn’t have been and Bucky couldn’t blame her for that. He put a hand on the couch and snaked an arm under her figure, lifting her up from the couch and holding her flush against his chest. Her head instinctually fell against his chest, nose nuzzling his black t-shirt.
There was nothing he could do now. In all honesty, he couldn’t think of anyone in his inner circle where she would be at least in safety. The group of people he hanged around weren’t particularly of high moral standards and he wasn’t a saint either, god, he was closer to being the devil than being a saint; yet, he knew things and he knew what awaited her if she had been assigned to anyone else. In his mind all of this would be over soon; either Billy or one of the newbies would screw up and get them in trouble with the police and then John would trade her in so he wouldn’t go to prison. It was only a matter of time.
He laid her down on his bed, pulling the comforter over her and taking a final look at her before exiting the room and taking to the couch. He pulled at the bottom of the furniture, the pillows unfolding to form a small bed which his feet would inevitably fall off, yet they didn’t make any bigger couches which turned into beds and he had never expected to have any company in his flat anyway. He too eventually fell asleep, lit by the low blue light of the TV.
The morning was a harsh reminder for Y/N that this whole situation was not a nightmare but her reality. Her hand pushed her torso off the bed, sleepish eyes looking around as she tried to figure out where she was. She didn’t remember falling asleep in a bed but that didn’t matter because she quickly realised she was alone. She couldn’t hear anything but the ambience sounds coming from the window. She was alone. As that thought registered, she kicked the comforter away from her body and settled her feet to the ground, rushing in silent steps to the door which she opened. Her eyes registered a clear path from where she was to the exit door whose chain was down. She bite on her lip before stepping out of the bedroom.
- Where are you going? - the familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. Y/N considered making a run from it but just as she convinced herself of that idea, he stepped in front of her, standing like a big wall keeping her from freedom. He looked her down, like a small, inoffensive prey. She thought of running once more, but she was smart enough to know he would easily overpower her. - Where are you going?
- Hm ... - think, anything, just think of anything. - The bathroom.
He scoffed, walking forward and towards her but she stepped back every time he got closer until her back hit the door. She stood there, small and wondering what to do as the man whose name she still did not know stood close to her, close enough she could almost feel the permeating heat coming from his body. His gloved fingers pinched her chin, pushing it up so her eyes looked into his. They were blue, a shade of blue she couldn’t really say she’d ever seen and maybe if she were in a different situation, she would’ve even said they were hypnotising. Yet, now, they just bore into hers, as if he was digging into her subconscious. He leaned closer, fingers still holding her chin up.
- Liar. - his voice was deep and husky, deep enough it sounded like a whisper. He let go of her chin, stepping back and returning to the kitchen while she remained against the door. - We had a deal.
- I know.
- Are you trying to get yourself killed, kid? - he asked in a dry voice.
- Don’t call me kid. - she didn’t know what else to say. What could she said after all? - It’s condescending.
- You didn’t answer me, Y/N. - he emphasised her name. It sounded almost wrong for him to be calling her that, yet she guessed it was better than kid. Sure, he was definitely older than her but she wasn’t young enough to be called kid. She couldn’t even recall the last time someone called her kid. - Are you trying to get yourself killed?
- Then what are you doing?
- I don’t know.
- You need to trust me.
- Why should I? I don’t know you, I don’t even know your name so why should I trust you? For all I know you could be lying to me.
- You think I wanna play babysitting with you? I would much rather have a free home than have you run around in costume. - he glared at her. - And you don’t need to know my name, you need to do what I tell you to do if you wanna come out of this alive.
- Well what if I don’t want to? - she narrowed her eyes.
- You want to fucking die? Is that it? - he sneered. - Because that would’ve saved the fucking headache that you’ve been.
- Maybe you should’ve killed me. You had no problem killing Tommy. - her words were mindless yet filled with some sort of anger. She didn’t realise what she had said until she saw his face.
His facade seemed to drop before his jaw clenched, eyes hardened as he raised his head to look her up and down. She held the knob of the door, ready to open it and escape into the bedroom but he didn’t do anything. He just looked at her, angry before he made a move yet he didn’t walk her direction, he merely opened the fridge to take a water bottle yet that look, that look still remained.
- What do you want from me? - she pried. - I had a life, you know. I had plans and ...
- So did I. You don’t wanna be a kid? Stop acting like one.
- My parents don’t know where I am. - she followed him into the kitchen. - I am their only child and I call them everyday. At least, let me call them, let me tell them I’m safe.
- I can’t, that’s not how things work.
- So what? You’re just gonna keep me here? Forever?
- Trust me, kid, it’s not exactly what I want either. It’s not my choice and it’s definitely not yours.
- I am not gonna stop trying to escape.
- Based on how well you’ve done so far, I wouldn’t hold my breathe.
Fic Summary: The bitter reality was this: you did what you had to do to survive. And if that meant going head to head with the most feared mob boss of the city, so be it.
Chapter Warnings: language, mentions of violence
Series Masterlist • Bucky Barnes Masterlist • Main Masterlist
The headline jumped out at Bucky the minute the paper landed on his desk.
“Federal Agent Found Dead, SSR Demands Answers.”
It piqued his interest, so he started to read the article, and the details started to fall into place, but definitely not how he expected them to. He didn’t care about the agent, he rarely tangled with the SSR, but the fact that it had taken place just a block from where he drank the night before interested him. His eyes widened when he realized that the dead man had been drinking at the same bar he had. He skimmed over the rest of the article, and jumped to the final few lines.
“The SSR suspects this to be the work of a newly emerged bounty hunter and professional assassin, who goes by the pseudonym “The Gunslinger.” The agency has requested that anyone with information about this please contact Chief Roger Dooley.”
So this was the Gunslinger. He should have known, but he just thought that if he had been in the same building as her, he would have been able to pick her out of a crowd. Bounty hunters always had a look to them, one that screamed they weren’t at the bar to have fun, but Bucky didn’t remember seeing anything out of the ordinary that night. Well, there was one guy he noticed slumped over the bar, but Bucky had just thought he had too much to drink that night. And there was the woman he had bumped into by accident, but the blue dress she was wearing didn’t seem really conducive to commit murder in.
It was hard to even imagine the Gunslinger as a person, the way her reputation traveled. It seemed as though she was more of an idea, a spectre that appeared and disappeared as she pleased. Bucky had already sent her a correspondence, but received nothing in return to indicate whether or not she was even going to show at the meeting. Bucky would be there, waiting like a hawk for someone to walk through the door, so he could make his own assumptions about this woman that everyone calls the Gunslinger.
And on that day, he sat at his desk as he waited for Steve to call him and inform him that there was someone to see him. No call ever came, but then the door to his office opened, and you walked in. His first thought was that you were in the wrong place, but then he saw your expression. Large sunglasses obscured your eyes, and the shoes on your feet were delicate pumps, not the shoes of a seasoned assassin. Your bright red lips were pursed in indignation, like you obviously had better things to do. If he had seen you on the street, he would have guessed that you worked in an office and not paid you another second’s notice. But when you took your sunglasses off, that’s when he made the connection. “You,” he hissed. “You’re the Gunslinger.”
You looked just as surprised to see him. “Pleasure to meet you too Barnes,” you said, sitting down on the chair across from his desk. You did not relax as you sat down, and he could see the outline of a gun in your jacket. His hand tensed, and it hovered under the gun strapped under his desk, ready to grab it at a moment’s notice.
“Let’s get to the point, shall we?” you said. “I don’t take time out of my day for introductions, so you better have called me here for something good.”
“I couldn’t have just wanted to meet the infamous Gunslinger?” he asked. “I had to have a purpose?”
“Cut the shit Barnes,” you said. “I know you don’t like freelancers, and I’m honestly regretting even showing up right now. If you actually set this meeting for a reason, you better start talking before I just up and leave.”
“That federal agent, that was you wasn’t it?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair. “I know the papers are saying it was, but papers are in the business of selling papers, and I want to know the truth. I like to know my associates, Miss-” he said, obviously fishing for you to tell him your name.
“You can address me as “Gunslinger,” if you wish to address me at all,” you said. “I don’t give out my name to greasy traitors.”
“That’s rich, coming from a mercenary like you. We’re both cut from the same cloth sweetheart, the world doesn’t care about either of us, just like it doesn’t care about anyone who isn’t a politician or a CEO. We just have to find our own way, to bend the world a little to our will.”
“We are not the same,” you said evenly. “You don’t know what the world is really like, what’s expected of a person who doesn’t look like you. So don’t even think about comparing our experiences, because we may both be criminals but that’s as far as the similarities go.”
“Fine, if you say we’re different then maybe we are,” he said, staring you down with his cold blue eyes. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re here, and you were right, I didn’t just call you here to chat. I have a job for you.”
“I don’t like to be tested,” you said, crossing your arms and staring back. “And I don’t work for cheap.”
“Money is no issue,” he said as he waved his hand. “But I need to know if you’re really as good as people say you are.”
“I think my credentials speak for themselves,” you said, not backing down. You had to come to terms with the fact that many people used your services for their own personal gain, but there were lines you drew, and you stuck to them. “You didn’t know who I was last night.”
“From what I read in the paper, your little job last night was easy pickings,” he said. “Federal agents? Those guys always have their heads up their asses, and their egos blind their perception of the rest of the world.”
“That may well be, but I’ve worked more than that job,” you said. “I know for a fact that my name gets thrown around in your little circle of acquaintances, because I’ve worked jobs for almost every single one of them. If you want references, there you go. But in the meantime, I’m not interested in whatever kind of ‘test’ you could think to assess me with. If you have a real business proposition, you know where to reach me.” And with that, you got up and walked right out.
Bucky sat back in his chair, trying to collect his thoughts. He couldn’t believe that the woman who just sat in that chair and went toe to toe with him with every exchange was the same woman that he had bumped into last night at the bar, that looked like a dream in a blue dress.
Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about you for days on end. You had seen right through him, and he didn’t want to admit the fact that he had underestimated you. He sat in his office chair and seethed in silence, because he was the most powerful mob boss in the city, and you shouldn’t have been able to walk all over him like you did. He wrote you off as arrogant and decided that he would just avoid you at all costs. There were much cheaper bounty hunters who were way less irritating, even if you were better at your job.
And Bucky didn’t even have the need for any bounty hunter for several months after that. The two of you existed in your own separate worlds, aware of the other but never interacting. Until he ran into a little trouble with a new group that tried to move in on his territory. HYDRA, they called themselves, but Bucky wasn’t about to lay down and let them do whatever they wanted.
It got personal when they shot at Steve one day when he was walking down the street, that’s when Bucky decided that he needed to do something. Sam had an idea, and although Bucky knew it was probably the best thing to do, he didn’t want to. “I’m not going to call the Gunslinger.”
“Come on Barnes, this is bigger than your little feud with the woman. She’s the only person I would trust to take out a group like this.”
“I’m not going to do it Sam,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.”
But Sam wasn’t having it. “You two are exactly the same, you know that?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “You both pretend you’re the bigger fish, and it’s going to be the end of you. HYDRA isn’t going to screw around, and it’s in your best interest to just swallow your pride and contract the Gunslinger, especially before HYDRA does.”
Bucky knew Sam was right. “Fine,” he said, a heaving sigh leaving his lips. “But only because I wouldn’t put it past HYDRA to hire her to kill me.”
“They might still hire her to kill you,” Sam said. “But maybe you might be able to win her over and convince her to turn on them.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’re just giving her countless opportunities to kill you, but that’s a gamble you have to take.”
- end of part three -
***this is my sideblog. i reply to any direct comments on this post from my main blog @fandomsandxfiles
Warnings: Brief description of torture/violence (kinda), implied PTSD, soft af Bucky.
Word count: 1.3k
(I proofread this while drunk, so I apologise in advance for mistakes. I’m sure I’ll edit them out when I’m sober)
Every night without fail, you’d scream at the top of your lungs and writhe around in the sheets, begging for the nightmares to stop. Sometimes you’d wake up alone, body glistened in sweat while your heavy pants filled the room. Other times, you’d open your eyes to Bucky crouched next to your bed, coaxing you out of your restless slumber with a pitiful smile.
You never used to be like this, but Hydra fucked you up. Hydra fucked you both up, and that’s why you and Bucky grew so close. The two of you would drag each other out of nightmares, spill your deepest and darkest secrets because you knew the other would understand. There was no fear of judgment with Bucky. You had both done so much fucked up shit it would be hypocritical to judge each other.
At some point, your feelings for the ex assassin grew into something more than a friend and support system. It might have been the late night talks, or crawling into the other’s bed just to feel secure. Or maybe it was the way his hair tickled your neck when you hugged, or how his piercing blue eyes would connect with yours in reassurance. Either way, whatever it was made you fall for Bucky Barnes, dangerously fast.
“You failed, L/N. We don’t tolerate failures.” Pierce spat while a guard strapped you down to a chair. The straps tightened around your wrists as you struggled, but the restraint around your hips kept you firmly down. A terrified scream left your lips, and you stared up at the man with desperate eyes.
“Please - let me try again. I won’t fail - I’ll never fail again. Please!” You yelled frantically, tears staining your bruised cheeks. The man titled his head, a wicked smirk painting his face. He nodded towards the guard, and they shoved a rag between your parted lips.
A buzzing noise came from the device above you, and hysteria set in. You struggled, let out muffled screams, tugged at the restraints. But nothing worked, and the guard still lowered the machine onto your head.
A dark chuckle came from Pierce. “Oh, Miss L/N, I know you won’t fail again.”
His darkened irises met your frantic ones, and you let out one last blood-curdling scream. Begging through the rag to be let out, to have another chance at the miss-
“Sh, wake up. You’re safe.” Bucky whispered in a chant, his fingers running through your matted hair.
The sight of you like this made him murderous. He wanted to kill any Hydra agent that even thought about harming you. If he could take away your demons and add them onto his own, he would. To see you happy, he would do anything.
Falling in love with you was surprisingly easy, and by the time he realised that he had, it was too late to go back. The ex Hydra assassin convinced himself that he could never love or be loved, but then you came crashing into his life. You were always understanding about everything, from him not wanting to be touched to his moments of violent rage. So understanding, in fact, that the first time he cried, he wrapped his arms around you and sobbed on your shoulder without thinking. After that, he couldn’t get enough of your touch and attached himself to you as often as he could.
The unexpected touch from Bucky made your eyes shoot open, and out of instinct, your hand clenched around his throat. Rolling off the bed, you straddled his waist and applied more pressure. His hand reached out and caressed your cheek, turning your head so you’d look into his pleading eyes.
“Your name is Y/N L/N. You are in your room in the Avengers tower.” He choked out, letting out a relieved sigh as your grip loosened slightly. “We rescued you from Hydra two years and eight months ago. You are not on a mission. You are free and most importantly, you are safe, doll.”
As he spoke, your eyes widened, and guilt washed over your body. This wasn’t unusual. After all the brainwashing and torture, you found it hard to tell the distinguish reality from your nightmares. Sometimes you’d wake up shrieking, other times you’d wake up fighting.
Bucky’s heart dropped when your eyes glassed over, and he sat himself up to be closer to you. His hands lay on your waist, rubbing small circles under your ribs with his thumb. Neither of you noticed, nor cared, that you were still straddling his lap. All he cared about was getting rid of the shame that was close to consuming you.
“Don’t feel guilty, doll, it’s not your fault. It won’t even leave a mark.” He cooed, brushing strands of hair out of your face.
A tear slipped down your cheek, “I’m sorry, Buck.”
His hands cradled the back of your thighs, keeping you secure as he pushed the both of you up off the floor. Carefully, he set you down on the bed and tugged the blanket over your legs. In that moment, all he wanted to do was pull you into his chest and kiss away all your pain. But he couldn’t, so he shook his head and enclosed your hand in his instead.
Planting a kiss to your knuckles, he rose to leave the room. But a small hand wrapped around his wrist, halting his movements.
“Stay.” You croaked out, “Please, stay Buck.”
A small smile ghosted on his lips, and he didn’t hesitate to climb in beside you and close his eyes. Usually, you would keep a considerable distance between you, but tonight that distance was too much. Cuddling into Bucky was a risk, you knew that. But it was a risk you needed to take, so for once, you ignored your brain and followed your heart.
When he felt a small body nestle into his chest, his eyes shot open in confusion and shock. He tensed at the foreign feeling before your scent hit his nostrils, and knowing it was you made his shoulders involuntarily relax.
Your breath fanned over his skin as you nuzzled into his neck, making his heart skip a beat. The pounding of his heart didn’t stop until your breaths slowed and body relaxed. When he was sure you were asleep, he placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head.
“I love you.” He whispered, and the ease of saying the words out loud surprised him. But what surprised him more was you placing a small kiss on his neck and mumbling back to him.
“I love you too, Buck.”
You raised your groggy head to be greeted with his ocean blue eyes boring into yours, and you bit your lip nervously under his gaze. His thumb brushed over your lips, gently tugging the bottom one out of your teeth before giving you a soft smile. Slowly, he inched forward with his hand behind your head for support, and you impatiently waited for him to close the distance.
His lips teasingly brushed against yours, “Say it again.”
“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You giggled, and he wasted no time in moulding his lips with yours. His hands tangled in your hair while you placed yours against his solid chest. He hooked his metal arm around your waist, pulling you as close to his body as was possible. There was only one thought going through both your minds; why hadn’t you admitted it sooner?
That night you fell asleep nuzzled into Bucky’s neck while he held you against his chest. This was the first time, in years, that both of you had slept soundly. No nightmares, no memories. Just a dreamless sleep with the ghost of a kiss from the love of your life lingering on your lips.
Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: angst, mention of violence
Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
You smoothed out your skirt for what felt like the millionth time as you stood in front of your bedroom mirror, nervously staring at yourself. You felt fine in your knee-length dress and flats but did you...feel fine? That was still very much up for debate.
If anything, you were feeling overwhelmed. Few days after confronting Steve, he told you that he and some of the other team members would be getting together for a little dinner. He said Bucky had planned to join them and thought this would make for a good chance to introduce you two to one another.
At first, you eagerly agreed and Steve looked relieved as he shared with you the restaurant and time. But then as the days went by and you were now just minutes away from coming face-to-face with your soulmate, you were downright terrified.
Steve said Bucky knew a bit about you, including an idea of what you looked like, but what if he just... didn’t want any part of this. Steve never explicitly said Bucky wanted to meet you, just that he could arrange it, so why would you assume a man who had been weaponized and brainwashed wanted to waste time on you?
You shook your head, trying to actually shake the thoughts. You had invested too much here to back out. Those thoughts of love and hope were suddenly abandoning you the more you stood there so you knew you had to kick your own ass into gear.
Smoothing out your dress and putting the final touches on your lipstick, you slung your purse over your body and pulled up the restaurant directions on your phone. There was no more time to even consider another bad thought as you began walking to the place.
This was bold of you, sure, but you had to remind yourself you wanted this. You wanted to finally sit across from the man who felt you knew - or at least a part of him you knew. He wasn’t like that anymore, Steve had told you, and you believed him. There was nothing you could pinpoint saying this man was attacking anyone with knives recently. That eased some concerns but still didn’t tell you that he would want this.
When you finally made it to the restaurant, you stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the sign. It was a nice place. Not overly fancy but still pretty hip and the reviews sounded nice online.
So, yeah, you were at the right place, you could confirm from your phone, but the device only got you so far. No one could direct you to actually walk in.
You averted your eyes to the door and that's when you saw motion coming from inside the restaurant. Your eyes flicked over, seeing Steve waving at you from inside the lobby. You gave a small smile, forcing any more concerns down your throat, and took the steps to enter.
Steve greeted you with a big hello as you were putting your phone away and tugging at the end of your dress.
“Hi, Steve,” you smiled as he gave you a brief hug, probably practically feeling how you were shaking but he didn’t say anything about it and instead motioned towards the dining area.
“The table is just right around the corner from here,” Steve said, a hint of hope sparked in his eyes and that made you feel warm, but the anxiousness wasn’t fading. You nodded in acknowledgment and waited for him to lead you but he just stood there, staring at the doorway.
He wanted you to enter first. The realization made your heart plummet but you didn't want to say anything and instead, you just simply put one foot in front of the other. Like baby steps, cautiously and careful, you gripped your bag tightly as you made your way through the arched frame into the dining area.
Turning the corner, you were abruptly greeted by one James Buchanan Barnes sitting at a table… for two. Two? This wasn’t some group dinner, you quickly realized. Steve had set you up.
Bucky was staring at the menu intensely, as if nervous to even think about the items. His hair slightly covered his face but you could still make out the unsureness radiating from him.
He hadn’t seemed to notice you yet despite your blatant staring. You were frozen in your path, that slight confidence flying out the window as the emotions and worries came back to you. You were so close to him. It was so much stronger than that news program on the coffee shop televisions.
In your irrational panic, you went to turn around, wanting to make a beeline for the entrance. But you didn’t get anywhere. Steve stopped you, putting his hands on your shoulders. He looked down at you, concerned.
“I-I don’t think… I don’t think I can-,”
“Steve, is something wrong?” Bucky’s voice suddenly cut through the space. His voice was just as rough and warm as you had thought it’d be, filling your heart with some form of desire. But you couldn’t turn around. Not yet.
Steve just gave you a nod before looking over your shoulder. “Nope, everything’s fine, Buck,” Steve called back to his friend. “There’s just someone I want you to meet.”
“Steve!” you went to protest but he just grabbed your arm, and turned you to face Bucky. What came over the room when your eyes met was indescribable.
He felt so familiar yet so far away as his eyes bore into yours, jaw slightly slack in surprise. You two took each other in. You thought you’d be scared, fearful of him, but it was the complete opposite. You felt warmth and comfort. You didn’t see an assassin sitting in that chair. You saw Bucky: a man who had been through the wringer and fighting to regain something in this world. You wanted to engulf him, do something to express yourself, but you were still stuck.
“Steve, what…” Bucky began, still wide-eyed, practically gaping at the sight of you. The shock was something you could definitely relate to at the moment.
Steve stepped around you, still off to the side but now between you and Bucky. “Bucky, this is-,”
You didn’t think your heart could drop anymore but his words proved you wrong. Your ears were pounding in anticipation, worry, uncertainty… You couldn’t believe you were still standing there like a starstruck idiot.
Steve just nodded, glancing between your two stunned expressions. A bit of a smile played at his lips as if proud. You just hoped his celebration wasn’t too premature. “It is her,” he confirmed, turning to Bucky. “I invited her for dinner.”
Bucky cocked his head, unsure. “I thought we were having dinner.”
“Sorry, Buck,” Steve chuckled. “I thought maybe you two could take some time to meet and maybe chat for a bit.”
You didn’t know what to do. You were pretty much planning for the inevitable rejection. Of course, Bucky wouldn’t want that. He had thought he was getting dinner with Steve and now you were standing there, looking like a sad puppy. You wanted to run-
“I-I’m sorry,” Bucky’s voice broke you out of your daze. He had said something briefly to Steve, which you missed in your mental panic, but now his attention was solely on you. You thought the next words were going to be him asking you to leave but then Bucky continued, “I’m being rude. Gosh, the last person I should be rude to… Please, sit down.” He motioned towards the seat across from him. His tone had turned panicked and uncertain when speaking to you. He was nervous.
You gave a quick glance at Steve who just nodded, still looking quite prideful. You turned back to Bucky and gave a little smile. He hesitantly returned it as you took the seat at the table.
You don’t think your posture had even been so immaculate as you sat there, stiff and unsure of the situation. He was here. He was really here.
And he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Bucky watched your movements intensely as if analyzing you. You shifted under his gaze, turning your eyes to the menu in front of your seat. You weren’t registering any of the words, too consumed by Bucky’s fixation.
“Thank you,” you said, gently, referring to the seat offer but Bucky didn’t seem to register it as he gave no acknowledgment.
“Well, then,” Steve began, clapping his hands together, once again like a proud father. “I’ll let you two converse. I’ll be in the area and don’t worry about dinner, it’s on me.” His smile was so wide and hopeful, glancing between you two sitting at the table. All you could do was muster a small nod. Bucky just gave him a questioning side glance. But Steve didn’t say anymore, just abruptly left. Your heart stirred as everything really settled in. This was happening. This was your night.
“So,” Bucky broke the silence but his eyes were thankfully off of you and trained on the restaurant menu once more. “Do you know what’s good here?”
You stifled a laugh at his charming attempt to make somewhat of a light conversation. You touched the menu gently, finally actually reading the words of the page.
You shrugged, “I’ve never been here before.”
“Me either,” he responded. “But that was probably expected.”
His joke was ridiculous, but it did something for you to loosen up just a little bit. You didn’t know if he was the kind to just hide his emotions in banter but it ultimately didn’t totally matter right now. It was working on you.
You looked down at the list of entrees. “Well, you can’t go wrong with chicken fingers. I don’t think any restaurant can mess that up.”
Bucky gave a breathy chuckle. “Chicken fingers?” His eyes were suddenly back on you. You dove into the menu again.
“Yeah,” you nodded. “You know, the crispy strips of chicken, usually paired with-,”
“Fries,” Bucky finished your sentence. He gave a small smile. “Yeah, I know what chicken fingers are.”
“Oh, well,” you gulped, feeling your face getting warm under his attention. “I just wasn’t sure-,”
“If I had had them before?” He did it again, finishing your sentence. Was this going to always be a thing? Well, at least you were just glad he was talking. He really wasn’t like anything you had seen in the nightmares, minus the long hair. “Well, we didn’t have them back in the day but I have gotten a bit… acquainted with this world.”
Now it was your turn to return the small smile. You had finally gotten some courage to take some peeks at Bucky and still, you felt… comfortable. It felt right sitting like this, making light talk, hearing him talk about “back in the day” and all that so naturally. Were your visions correct? Was this actually the guy who did all those things that had tormented you? Or… It was exactly as Steve had said. That was all the past and this was the healing.
A waitress broke the silence between you two, asking what you would like to drink. You both opted for water, an uneasiness at the table of deciding what is actually appropriate to order on a date.
The silence returned as you two waited. Meals had been mentally decided on so now you were left to just let your eyes wander around the place. It was chic, as predicted. The seating area was nice with minimal decorations. There were little fake candles on the table.
“I’m sorry about Steve,” Bucky’s voice pulled you out of your gazing. Your eyes snapped back to him, confused.
“Why?” You frowned. “Is- Is something wrong?”
Bucky looked a bit panicked at that question. “No, no,” he shook his head. “He just sprung this on us and I’m sorry if you… if you don’t want to be here.”
You scoffed, a little smile playing at your lips. “I actually sort of asked him to help us meet.”
Shrugging, you said, “Well, I didn’t think this was how he was going to do it,” you paused as the waitress set the glasses of ice water in front of you two. “But, yeah, I asked him to see what he could do.”
Bucky gave a little nod then looked away as if pondering your little revelation. Your heart sank as he went quiet again. Maybe you had said too much, came on too strong.
“How do you know Steve?”
Now that was a brow-raising question for you. You hadn’t thought about that when the confession slipped out. You were suddenly hit with the realization that Bucky wasn’t exactly aware of a certain super-soldier’s presence in the coffee shop. Steve had said he knew you worked in a shop and that really was all, it seemed. But you were going to play it a little dumb, unsure of how much Bucky needed to know about your correspondence with Steve.
“Steve’s a regular customer at the coffee shop I work at and we get to talking sometimes.”
Casual. You kept it nice and casual. But before you could give yourself a pat on the back, you noticed that Bucky’s expression still looked...confused.
“A regular?” He hummed. “He knew about you for a while then, didn’t he?”
Your heart dropped. Lies fumbled off your tongue. “I-I don’t know-,”
Bucky shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m making you uncomfortable. You certainly aren’t here to discuss Steve.”
You gave a weak smile, unsure of really how to respond. There was an interesting unspoken dialogue about how neither of you really knew what you were getting out of this. Thankfully, before you needed to come up with something to carry on the specific topic, the waitress stopped by to take your food orders. Bucky decided on a burger, completely avoiding your chicken finger suggestion (fair enough, you thought), while you just got a salad. Almost cliche, really.
The silence came back but you grabbed at it, taking it as a time to branch out into a new conversation.
“You know I didn’t even realize who you were until like a week ago?” You chuckled. “It feels like the silliest thing.”
Bucky shot you an interested smirk, suddenly making you aware of the attention on you as the distraction of the restaurant menu was absent. “How did you put it all together?” He asked. “Were the dreams not helpful?”
You could feel your heart rate pick up at the mention of the dreams. Your fingers started fiddling with one another. Your foot tapped lightly. The super-soldier across from you seemed to register your actions -- oh, of course, he did. The man had sense turned up to eleven. You tried collecting yourself quickly, avoiding raising any alarms.
You shook your head, maybe a bit furiously. “I saw a news report on you one day at work.”
Bucky sighed, sounding a bit annoyed. He chose to ignore your sudden tense state. “I’m sure they had a lot of great things to say.”
You frowned. “I don’t know, really. I didn’t pay much attention. I did my own research, actually.”
“Research? The dreams didn’t give you anything about me?”
There was that gosh darn word again. The dreams. It wasn’t dreams, it never fucking was. But you couldn’t tell him that. God knows how he would react. Thankfully, this time you could reign it in a little, not totally freaking out as the emotions and images came spitting back.
“Not really,” you said, softly. At least you weren’t totally lying. “They were kind of… blurry. A bit of a mess. But once I saw your picture on the television it all just clicked.”
He had the softest smile now playing at his lips. “That’s how it felt for me seeing you standing at the table earlier.” A beat. “But your beauty is what really knocked me over.”
Your heart practically melted into a giant pool within you. Warmth spread over as you took in his words, letting the soulmate attachment just encompass everything. You could feel his care for you suddenly. The moment was nearly a familiar overwhelming but for once, in the best way.
“I have to admit you’re not so bad yourself,” you smiled. “Look like you haven’t aged a day from the picture I saw of you in your uniform.”
Bucky chuckled -- a real, soft chuckle. You nearly missed it but it made you perk up a bit.
“Low blow, doll.”
“Too soon?” You didn’t know where this sassy, dry banter was coming from you but it felt right. Everything was starting to feel like this world was expecting this sort of conversation and you could be your whole self. Not the anxious, fumbling mess from earlier.
“I’ll allow it because you’re you.” His eyes were glimmering with tease, that little smirk still on his lovely lips. The humor came so naturally, you were surprised.
“Because I’m me?”
He nodded. “I can’t say the word. It doesn’t feel real. You don’t feel real.”
A light pause settled over the table. You took it in and a breath.
“Soulmate, Bucky.” The words rolled off your tongue softly. “I’m your soulmate and I’m very much real.”
The rest of the dinner had gone on with a breeze, amazingly. You two even opted for some dessert, extending the date just the tiniest bit. The conversation could be a little jagged at times as you danced around some questions about the “dreams” but really, Bucky was happy to just discuss you and your life.
Having overstayed your welcome at the restaurant, Bucky offered to walk you home which just filled your heart. The little acts of chivalry didn’t go unnoticed by you and they were all exactly what you wanted.
When you two arrived at your apartment building, you halted outside the entry door. You turned to Bucky but he spoke first.
“Thank you for staying for dinner tonight.”
You cocked your head, confused. “Well, of course.”
He shook his head. “No, I mean… I could tell you wanted to turn away and maybe you would’ve if Steve wasn’t there but you gave it a chance. You gave me a chance. Even if it was just one dinner, it was nice.”
You felt almost sad at his words. You didn’t mean to come off so hesitant but it was scary. You still couldn’t get over how the things you had seen were not adding up to the man you had just spent your evening with. You were glad the worries were eased slightly but the memories of the nightmares weren’t vanishing so quickly
Before you could think twice, you took Bucky’s hand in yours. He jumped a little at the action but didn’t pull away.
“I had the most wonderful time with you, Bucky.”
You made your way into your apartment after bidding Bucky a good night. Brief plans had been made to see each other again but nothing was concrete yet. You were actually anxious to get it down, though, hoping that seeing him would be a regular thing.
You let your thoughts lull you to sleep after you crawled into bed pretty, exhausted from the roller coast of a night. Shockingly, the nightmares were an afterthought as you closed your eyes.
The visions in your dream world started off intense. There were peaks of knives throwing and bombs going off in the distance. Panic had just begun filling you when out of nowhere, it all stopped. There was suddenly absolutely nothing. No feelings, no images. It was a blank slate.
And then Bucky came back into your mind -- except, it wasn’t that Bucky. It was the Bucky you had seen tonight. He was in what appeared to be his bedroom, looking fairly comfortable sitting on the bed, consumed by a book.
You took in parts of the scene. From his pajama pants to the way he had no problem cracking the spine of a book. Something new was coming over you now and, for the first time, it was the feeling of happiness.
PHOTO NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION.
Genre(s): CEO!au / arranged marriage!au / Fashion designer!au
Pairing(s): CEO!Bucky Barnes x fashion designer!reader
Summary: For the people who think arranged marriages are something happening in the last century, are very wrong. They still happen. More low-key, but are still very prominent in the upper class. That's how two people who would never meet, get thrown together in the deep end.
Warning(s): Age-gap / club scene so it gets a bit frisky / talk about periods and evrything that comes with it / (Y/n) goes to the toilet?
[Masterlist] [Mini masterlist]
James and I walk hand in hand through Florence with gelato as he points out different architectural features on buildings. Turns out, he studied architecture in uni.
I watch with a smile as he talks animatedly, a twinkle of passion in his eyes. "Your ice cream is melting, Jamie", I remind him for the nth time. He gives me a guilty smile, licking the chocolate off his hands and continuing his story.
"And now", he says, pulling me towards the right and into a sort of courtyard, heavy pillars surrounding us. "My favourite place in all of Florence, the Uffizi Gallery."
James lets go of my hand and spins around, his arms wide. He nearly hits someone on the side of their head. I rush forwards and pull James towards me, sending an apologising smile towards the person.
"You are a hazard for the people around you when you get passioned", I laugh out, grabbing a napkin and wiping off the ice cream that has drizzled down his hand. "Who is supposed to be the older one?", I grumble quietly under my breath.
James sends me a lopsided grin in reply. "But, listen! The Uffizi Gallery has been a museum for more than 250 years! Don't you like art?"
With a shake of my head, I hold out my hand and let him drag me towards the entrance. He shows something to a guard on his phone which leads to the guard escorting us to an empty corridor.
"Is this...", I ask, trailing off at the end.
"The Vasari Corridor, well seen my love." James smiles at me as he presses a kiss against my knuckles. "I got us a private tour."
I frown slightly at his words. "I thought it was closed for renovation? I googled it beforehand and the site says it's closed."
"It is, but when a good friend calls, I couldn't resist", says a deep voice with a slight German undertone from our left and a slightly balding man approaches us.
James laughs and he shakes the hand of the man, holding his hands with both of his. "Eike, it's so great to see you again. And thank you so much for allowing us to be here."
The man ─ Eike? ─ waves the comment away with his hand. "Nonsense. I had a debt to settle for that wonderful villa in Los Angeles."
"Consider it paid, my friend", reassures James and gives Eike a pat on his shoulder.
The man turns towards me. "Where are my manners. Eike Schmidt, director of the Uffizi Gallery."
I shake his outstretched hand while looking at James with wide eyes. James just smiles and signs for Eike to lead us around.
And in two hours we have had every painting in the Uffizi Gallery, Eike giving a detailed explanation at each and every one of them.
"I have to ask, what was your favourite sculpture of painting?", asks Eike as we're sitting down afterwards with a cup of coffee and some cannolis.
I hum, nibbling on my bottom lip while thinking deeply. "I mean, I must say that Judith beheading Holofernes left chills down my spine. As did Portrait of Bia de’ Medici, the lightning, the colours. And Flora. Those three are my top picks." I blow away some steam from my cup before taking a sip.
Eike nods impressed. "Those are good picks. Beautiful paintings with beautiful stories behind them."
With a slight turn of my head, I turn towards James who's already looking at me with a love-sick grin. I smile at him and stroke his cheek briefly. "And what was yours? And don't you say the architecture."
James chuckles, shaking his head. "Busted. The birth of Venus is a pretty impressive painting, no matter how many times I see it."
Just as Eike wants to say something the ringtone of his phone interrupts him and he excuses himself, standing up from our table.
"You know", I say, checking the messages on my phone, "we should go clubbing tonight."
James snorts, almost choking in his drink. "Where is this sudden epiphany comming from?" He rests his arm on the back of my chair, his fingers playing with the ends of my hair.
I shrug while tuning my body towards him. "I dunno. I thought it was maybe fun." A smirk grows on my face as I lean closer towards James' ear. "Don't you want to see me in a tight dress that barely covers me?"
The corners of my lips turn upwards as I feel James' hand grip my knee firmly while gulping, his adam's apple going up and down. He licks his lips while glancing towards me. I see the conflict in his eyes and chuckle.
After a moment, he nods curtly. "Fine. But only if you stay close the whole time."
I am slightly taken back by his words and lean back with my brows knitted. "What? Don't you trust me?", I ask, feeling slightly hurt at the thought that James doesn't trust me.
At my question looks James surprised at me, guilt visible in his eyes. "Baby... no! That's not it! I do trust you, with my life even. I just don't trust these Italian... boys that will be at the clubs." James casts his eyes down and away from me.
My expression softens and I take James' face in both of my hands. I turn him back towards me so he's looking into my eyes. "Jamie", I coo and smile, "don't worry, okay? I would never leave you for any of them. Boys aren't my type."
With a chuckle, James rolls his eyes and flicks my knee. "Oh, you little minx."
Eike comes that moment back from his phone call with an apologetic smile on his face. "I must excuse myself, but work calls."
James and I both dismiss it, knowing both fully well that being a boss can be demanding. Eike wishes us a nice vacation and leaves in a hurry, his phone back against his ear.
The booming bass of the club can be felt in the bottom of my belly and I laugh at an offhanded comment James made of a couple of girl wobbling by on their too-high heels.
One of James' hands on the small of my back, dangerously close to my ass. He leads me into the club and to the bar where he orders a couple of shots.
"Starting off strong, aren't we?", I remark with a slight smile, grabbing the shot that James holds out for me. We clink the glasses together before drowning the whole thing in one go.
James hisses at the strong alcohol and I cough. "Jezus, that hit stronger than I remember", he grumbles, throwing another one back for good measure.
I chuckle, leaning closer to him. "What kind of drunk are you? So I know what to expect." I send him a wink and wrap my arms around his shoulders.
He places his own under my blouse, his thumb rubbing circles on the slither of bare skin between my top and skirt. "Well, everybody tells me I am clingy when I am drunk. And loud."
"More clingy than normal?", I tease, placing a shot against my lips and throwing it backwards, keeping eye contact with James the whole time.
His gaze flickers from between my eyes to my lips. A droplet drips down the side of my mouth and James wipes it off with his thumb, putting it in his mouth.
The action leaves me hot and bothered. The way his lips wrap around his thumb and the uninterrupted eye contact sends shivers down my spine, straight to my core. Before I do anything rash so out in the open, I remove myself from James' arms and pull him towards the dance floor.
A surprised laugh leaves him as he let me drag him to the mass of sweating people rubbing against each other.
I begin to move my shoulders to the music and grab both of James' hands and move him with me. He just lets me move him, slowly moving with me before pulling me against his body, his hands on my hips. His lips graze mine, trailing down my neck towards my cleavage.
My arms wrap around his head as he bites my skin softly, enough to leave a mark but not too hard so it hurts. I throw my head backwards and whine. James takes the opening and places open-mouthed kisses on my throat, his teeth scraping against the tender flesh.
Wanting to return the pleasure of teasing him, I turn around in James' hold and grind against him. I wrap my arm around the back of his neck and pull him down towards me. I kiss him on the corner of his lips, just centimetres where he wants.
His chest vibrates against my back as he grumbles, a sign that my teasing works. A sly grin forms on my face. I lick my lips and trail them down, over the coarse texture of his beard to his neck. I turn back around and place feather-light kisses on his exposed collarbone.
This teasing back and forth continues song after song, our bodies mashing together until a sharp pain in my lower stomach startles me. I groan and lay a hand on my belly.
James notices my knitted eyebrows and cocks his head to the side. "Are you okay?", he asks, laying a hand on my lower back.
I nod quickly. "Yeah. I just need to pee, be right back."
"Let me walk you." James pulls me after him towards the lady's bathroom and as I get in, he waits next to the door, his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
The door of the toilet closes, muffling the music and I quickly rush towards one of the stalls and lock it. Pulling my skirt up and my panties down, I sit on the toilet seat and do my business, my knee anxiously bouncing up and down. I wipe as soon as I am done and while I put my clothes back in their place, I notice that there is blood.
"Shit", I curse, blinking flabbergasted. How... is that possible? I haven't had my period for over seven years. Does my UID not work anymore? That shouldn't be possible, as I have three more years until my next appointment.
The curse I let out pulls the attention of someone else in the toilet and a soft knock comes from the other side of my door. "Everything alright in there?", asks a soft voice with a heavy Italian accent worried.
"Y-yeah! I just... forgot that my period started today and don't have anything with me." I bite my lip whilst leaning with my forehead against the stall door.
I hear a zipper being opened before a hand holds a tampon over the door. "I only have tampons with me right now, I hope that is okay." I hear the slight smile in the girl's voice.
As I take the tampon from her with trembling hands, I thank her softly and make quick work to insert the tampon. With a sigh, I flush the toilet and unlock the stall door, the girl on the other side smiling kindly at me.
"Thanks", I mumble softly, scratching the back of my neck.
The girl shrugs. "No big deal, we girls have to look out for each other." With one last smile, she waves and walks out of the bathroom.
I quickly wash my hands, inspecting my outfit for anything out of place before exiting the bathroom myself.
James perks up and puts his phone back into his pocket. Not wanting him to ask any questions, I push him against the wall behind him and corner him. I hover a couple centimetres away from him and let my eyes flicker between his blue ones and his lips.
With his lips slightly parted, James closes the gap and kisses me softly. I let out a hum, deepening it by looping my fingers through his belt loops and pulling him flush against me.
James lets out a surprised 'hmpf' but welcomes the sudden spurt of dominance from me.
I pull back and lean with my forehead against his, my chest heaving up and down in short breathes. "Let's go back to our hotel room", I whisper.
James narrows his eyes slightly. "Are you okay though? You looked in distress earlier." He puts a strand of hair behind my ear and rests his hand on my cheeks, rubbing it softly with his thumb.
Nuzzling against his hand, I nod with closed eyes. "Yeah. I'm just a bit tired, that's it."
James nods and looks at his watch. He lays his arm over my shoulders and leads me out of the club, opening the door of our rental car and driving off towards our hotel. His hand on my knee rubs slow circles as I see him glance at me worried every now and then from the reflection of the window. But he stays silent and just drives us back to the hotel.