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sarifinasnightmare · 5 months

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The Vengeful Bride

Pairing: Sarah x Bucky

Rating: Teen and Up (I think). The pirates aren't nice and neither are the mermaids actually. Mentions of violence, gore and sexual harassment. Bad ass Sarah Wilson. 💪🏾

Summary: On an island somewhere in the Caribbean, there is a story about a town that nearly got destroyed by a greedy mayor and some pirates and were saved by the vengeful ghost of a bride who had drowned on her wedding day.

Prompt: Pirates/Mermaid AU

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On an island somewhere in the Caribbean, there is a story about a town that nearly got destroyed by a greedy mayor and some pirates and were saved by the vengeful ghost of a bride who had drowned on her wedding day.

The Widow Sarah Wilson had always been a strong, beautiful wild creature. Her parents had three children, two sons who prospered elsewhere and their daughter. When she was a child, she’d run barefoot all over the town and spend hours splashing and swimming in the sea. Other mothers would’ve considered her unmanageable, but she was also an intelligent girl who could perform the maidenly duties required of her very well, she just didn’t care for them. Her embroidery skills were flawless, her fingers flew cleanly over the piano playing dulcet music, she danced like a flower in the wind and her penmanship was enviable. However, she would much rather be at sea, on the family boat, reading books, caring for the wildlife and basking in the waves.

When she reached her majority, it seemed like no one was good enough for her. Amongst the swath of rosy maidens looking to find husbands, she was the bird of paradise who lured them without even trying. It seemed no one would tame her, but to everyone’s surprise she married! Her mother made the match to Mr. Ashley Wilson, a man who was nearly twice her age, recently widowed, very rich and looking for a fresh young bride. Many thought Sarah would put up a fight, but she obediently acquiesced to her mother’s desires and married the older man. She had been a resplendent bride and Mr. Wilson was said to have been gleeful at the fact that he got himself the untamable Sarah for a wife.

They were pleasantly married for a few years until the day came that Mr. Wilson was stricken with a stroke and became a bed-ridden invalid. Now the wild, beautiful Sarah became her husband’s nursemaid and the whole town clicked their tongues in sympathy. What a waste of beauty! Then after struggling for a year more, Mr. Wilson died, leaving his wife a young widow. What a shame! Now she lived alone in the huge house by the sea with all the wealth her old husband had left behind. She moved her now ailing mother into the house so she could see to her needs like a good diligent daughter. Poor Sarah, people murmured, so wealthy but bound to her ill relations.

What the people didn’t know was that for as long as Sarah had the sea, she had never once been alone nor neglected.

Her father had been from a world of water, filled with people called by many names: the Aycayia, the Maneli, Njuzu, or Sirenas; mermaids in simple English. He fell in love with her mother and sacrificed his home to be with her. Their children had a rare choice when they reached their majority, to become a part of the merfolk or to stay human. Her elder brother chose humans, her second took to the sea. Sarah herself loved the sea as well, because it was the sea that held her greatest love.

As a child she encountered a merboy called Bucky who had first been her dearest friend and playmate. He taught her to swim, to turn her legs into a sleek tail, to hold her breath, and they explored many of the inaccessible places around the island. Later as they grew, they became sweethearts, exchanging words of unending affection. He’d become a tall, broad shouldered, handsome warrior, with long dark hair and blazing blue eyes. She ripened into curves, balanced by fierce brown eyes and generous lips that had become irresistible to him. He wanted her to join him in the waters and she was more than willing. However, she was her mother’s only girl and she loved her deeply. So much so that she begged her daughter to stay with her at least until she died. After having lost his father, Sarah found she couldn’t find it in her to abandon her mother and despite her desire to be in the sea with Bucky she decided to be a dutiful daughter first.

Her mother never liked Bucky, thinking him wild and dangerous, so it was rather mean-spirited of her to make Sarah marry another man. She had hoped that by providing her daughter with every earthly comfort that she would be satisfied, but the old woman underestimated how passionately they loved each other.

In a secret cavern she quietly told him what would occur, and he of course did not take it well.

Bucky had been furious. “Your mother is a menace! Why would you agree to this!! I will kill that old fool before I let him have an inch of you!”

“Bucky-” She tried to explain.

“You think I would sit and allow myself to be set aside??”

“No! I will not leave you!” She protested.

“You are!!” He snapped, his eyes growing watery. “How would you feel if I set you aside?”

Sarah knew that abandonment meant death to a merfolk, because once love was given it could not be returned, so he could waste away, starved of her love. “Please Bucky don’t leave me! I take no pleasure in this but what can I do? Leave my mother to her misery? She lost her love too and clings to ways to keep me close.”

“She means to kill us.” He growled as jealousy seized him and he began to ravish her with kisses and love bites. Sarah clutched him, urging him on, wanting only the pleasure he could give her.

“I won’t let us part,” She panted, moaning as he tongued her breasts. “I will keep us together.”

Together they came up with a plan that while not perfect would be enough to satisfy their needs.

On her wedding night, a wild, beautiful Sarah Wilson waited with bated breath as Bucky, on two human feet, nude and wet with the salt of the sea on his skin, slipped into her new house, entered her room and deflowered his darling love. It was everything they had imagined it would be. She did away with her robe and threw herself naked into his arms. He carried her to the bed and let the netting wrap around them as they made love for the first time. They had played and touched before, but their first joining was infinitely sweeter than that. While the servants thought that the grunts and moans were of the newly wed couple, it was Bucky between her thighs, muscles flexing, tightening as he thrust between her silky thighs. Sarah writhed and arched against him, swimming in ecstasy and clutching him tight as the pleasure waves of their orgasm drowned them both.

Where was her husband in all this? Drugged and deep in the throes of a hallucinogenic sleep that brought him sweet dreams of his new wife. That was how it went for years. Encouraged by his wife to have a drink before laying with her, he never knew that all those times he dreamt his encounters with her when in reality it was another man, a creature from the sea, that lay with his wife and pleasured her throughout the night. When he had his stroke, it made their life much easier. She no longer had to drug him to be with Bucky and when he died it was all the better. Her mother suspected something amiss but dared not voice it, least it fell into the wrong ears. The servants were perplexed by the odd wet spots that appeared occasionally around the house. One overly curious man tried to find the source of the spots and was discovered dead at the foot of the stairs, his neck broken and a look of utter shock on his pale face.

Bucky would allow no one to come between him and his love.

Now Sarah was a widow and a wealthy one at that. Free once more she resumed doing the things she loved, and no one gave it any thought. After all she was a rich, respectable widow dutifully caring for her mother; it was admirable.

“I tire of this half-life, Sarah.” Bucky said to her one night as they lay in her bed. “I want you home.”

Sarah caressed the long, wet hair from his face. “I want to, Bucky, you know I do, but I promised my mother to wait until she passed.”

“So it’s her death I require.” He growled, a hint of sharp teeth catching in the candlelight.

“Please don’t!”

He calmed himself. “I won’t, but I just love you so much and this waiting hurts me. To be so far from you is torture.”

She understood. Merfolk suffered when parted from their loved ones and she felt the painful ache just being half. The ache in her lover must have felt worse. “I do not wish for my mother’s death, but she is becoming frailer. It won’t be long.”

They held each other close during the night until dawn came, and Bucky reluctantly slipped away back to the sea. Sarah watched him go, conflicted by the burdens in her heart.

______________________-----

It happened that the governor of their town passed away and the homeland sent a new mayor to watch over them. Upon the arrival of Mayor Forks, the people knew they were in for some trouble. He was large, fat with grasping fingers and a wandering stare. The way his eyes trailed over everything of value and every pretty face instantly made the citizens wary.

Tax money immediately started to go missing, causing Forks to raise them to meet the quota. Unsavory looking men were permitted to enter the town and the mayor’s palace suddenly acquired some ugly guards. People grumbled and began to lament. The mayor had always been the guest of honor at the first dance of the season, and it was with gritted teeth that the young ladies were forced to dance with him, his hands pawing around.

Sarah had heard about this mayor but had studiously avoided him. She usually stood amongst the married and widowed ladies commenting on the matches although she was still young. The mayor took one look at her and was instantly arrested. A rich, beautiful widow! How could he pass her up?

Much to Sarah’s horror and disgust, Mayor Forks began to pursue her, and she absolutely refused him. It was the talk of the town. The mayor would send letters, flowers and gifts to her house and she’d send every item back. Twice he’d tried to enter her house only to be told her was either not at home (she was) or indisposed (she wasn’t). The one time he got close to her during a tea party, he slipped his hand onto her thigh, and she “accidentally” spilled hot tea on his hand. Using her ruined dress as an excuse to leave early she complained heatedly to her mother about it.

“We should leave this place before he does something worse to get you alone with him.” Her mother suggested.

“Mother, you wouldn’t be able to make such a journey. Plus, everything I need is here. I shan’t leave just because of him!”

“That’s because you won’t leave…because of him.”

Sarah gave her a hooded glare. “I love Bucky. I gave into your wishes to marry, and I obeyed, mother, but he is the only one I will ever allow to truly have me.”

“Have you told him about this mayor?”

“Indeed. It has become a sore subject.”

Bucky barely tolerated her first husband and was furious at the realization that now there was another suitor. Sarah was more than fine with him killing the fat pig, but it proved to be more difficult than assumed.

“Those men he has around his house are always patrolling and they’re not just anyone, they’re pirates.”

Pirates and merfolk shared the oceans but that did not make them allies. Thieves, rapists, opportunists, they would gladly take advantage of any mermaid or merman they found. Therefore, it was in a merfolk’s best interest to kill them. Seasoned pirates scoffed at the fantasy of beautiful, playful mermaids; they knew the truth, some had the scars to prove it.

Bucky was a warrior and was not shy about spilling blood but doing it alone amongst a band of unscrupulous pirates was risky. He urged caution and she agreed, sensing that eventually her rejections would cause Mayor Forks to do something more diabolical.

Then, on a beautiful festival day, the mayor revealed his grand gesture. During his speech he publicly proposed to Sarah thinking that having an audience would finally force her to agree, but she sneered at him and openly refused in front of the whole town. At that point the mayor’s thin veneer of civility fell and his true monstrosity emerged.

Slowly more unsavory pirates were permitted into the town, they menaced the people but were momentarily held back and the people were scared at what would happen next. Finally at a dinner party Mayor Forks made his announcement.

“I want you all to spread the word. I want to make sure everyone knows.” He began. “That I will not be humiliated by a woman in such a way. Since she cannot acquiesce kindly then force shall be necessary. If the Widow Sarah Wilson does not marry me within a fortnight, then my companions will gather all the ladies of the town, rich or poor and I shall let them have a grand time with them as they see fit. If any survive the event, they can return to their families. Do not attempt to leave as I have the ports well watched. Instead, may I suggest the good people focus on getting the good widow to prepare for her wedding day and resign herself to be my obedient little wife.”

The horror swept throughout the entire town. Cries and wailings echoed everywhere. Instantly the town turned on Sarah, demanding that she submit herself to the mayor. Then sensing she might try to flee he took it one step further. Upon his orders the pirates attacked, grabbing the girls and taking them into the local prisons. Screams and prayers could be heard as the mayor decided to hold the girls ransom to ensure that Sarah would appear. She was stunned by the outcry and for the first time felt a finger of fear up her spine.

Bucky had enough. “Come with me now. He’s given you no option but the sea.”

“And leave all these maidens to be made whores of?? I cannot be so heartless!” She argued.

“The town is against you!”

“The town is afraid! You cannot blame them for trying to save their daughters!”

“So you will do this? You’ll give yourself to that pig??” he asked, almost trembling with rage.

“I must and yet I cannot endure it. I must kill him and his pirates.” She declared coldly.

Bucky was surprised. Sarah had always been gentle despite her fieriness so to hear her speak of bloodshed was new.

“Do you plan to drug him?” He asked tentatively.

“No, he requires something much crueler.” She replied.

_______________________----

The mayor arranged the whole event, spending lavishly as he soon expected to have all of Sarah’s wealth in his coffers by the end of the night. The whole town showed up to this wedding, though there was no joy amongst anyone except the mayor, who looked at his intended bride garishly dressed in a gown he ordered her to wear with lewd anticipation. Sarah barely gave her consent and refused to offer her lips for a kiss and frowned at the sloppy feel of his mouth against her cheek. He tried to paw at her on the carriage ride to their reception. She slapped him and he slapped her back. Enraged, she struck him hard across the face with the back of her hand and he sat back stunned by the violence and strength. She hissed at him, and he swore he saw sharp teeth, but before he could question her they reached the governor’s palace and she nearly leapt out of the carriage to avoid him.

The festivities were hardly that. People didn’t want to dance to the music and hardly anyone ate; their minds preoccupied with their daughters and ashamed to look at the unfortunate bride in the eye. A few even apologized but Sarah paid them no mind, focused on what she’d have to do to survive the night with her grotesque new husband.

Getting drunk and feeling good, Forks decided to find his wife for a dance. Sarah refused him, but he grabbed her waist and forced her against him.

“You’re mine now. You do what I say like a good little wife.”

“You are mistaken if you think I’ll be so submissive to a pig like you.” She snapped.

The man chuckled drunkenly. “You forgot that everything that was once yours is now mine.” He hiccupped and she could smell the alcohol in his breath. “In fact, I already sent my men to your house to empty it of all your fine things. I plan to make a profitable sale of the property afterward.”

“How dare you! My mother will be scared to death!” she said, gritting her teeth as he grabbed her buttock.

“No, your mother will be dead. I have no patience for a dying old hag, so I told my men to deal with her quietly.”

“NO!” she cried, and all her careful planning came to a grinding halt as she picked up a dinner knife and stabbed him in the chest in front of all their guests. He cried out in agony, and everyone gasped, but Sarah didn’t care as she picked up her skirts and ran out of the palace to go save her mother.

Spotting a carriage, she pushed away the driver before climbing onto the seat and urged the pair of horses to gallop through the night streets.

Meanwhile, her mother was gasping for breath as she tried to flee her assailants. The horrible men had broken into the house, killed the butler and started ransacking the place. The servants fled, screaming, leaving the old woman to fend for herself. Terrified, the lady stumbled down the stairs, hurting her ankles, but she could not stop. Desperately she tried to escape to the beach only for two men to give chase, hooting and laughing as she stumbled and fell on the uneven sand. They grabbed her, dragging her into the cold water and started to dunk her in, enjoying her cries of distress.

A sudden unnatural swish of the water distracted them momentarily, then a manlike creature jumped out of the waves, grabbed one of the pirates and pulled him effortlessly into the sea. Terrified the other man released the old woman, who gasped and stumbled, and pulled out a knife, staring wildly into the dark waters. Kelp suddenly flew at him, wrapping around his neck, yanking him into the waves. There was a momentary struggle before his head, and only his head, bobbed up to the surface.

Sarah made it to the house, saw the disaster, but the moonlight reflected the pale gown her mother was dressed in, laying in the sand in the distance and she ran down to her side.

“Mama! Mama!” She cried in despair as she reached the beach and turned her mother over to check on her.

The old woman sighed weakly, wet, sticky with sand but very much alive. “My baby.”

“Mama! Oh God I was so scared!” She wept even as she smiled in relief.

“What happened to the mayor?”

“I stuck a knife in him. Hopefully he’s bleeding out like-”

A hand reached out, grabbing the back of Sarah’s neck and began to strangle her. It was Mayor Forks, bleeding but still very much alive.

“You bitch!! You thought you could get rid of me! I’m your husband! I’ll teach you how to behave! I’ll make an example of you!”

Her mother tried to rise and get him off her daughter, but he kicked her aside and dragged Sarah into the waves, still strangling her.

Sarah hissed and fought, but the weight of the now wet dress was heavy and from the angle she was at she could not fight him as he forced her head into the waters.

“I’ll teach you! You stupid bitch!” He shouted as he tried to drown her. Unexpectedly there was a yank as if something was pulling on his bride. Startled, the mayor loosened his hold on her, which was a mistake because the moment he did, she was abruptly taken from him and dragged further into the sea.

Frantically he tried to seek her, hoping to catch onto the heavy skirts. “No! No! You don’t get to slip that easy from me! You’re mine! MINE!” Eventually he felt the fabric and pulled it up with all his might, only to find it empty of its owner.

Forks was mystified, then heard a splash. Looking up he saw a pale-skinned, nude, dark haired man glaring at him with deadly intentions. Before he could make demands, Sarah rose beside the man in her shift that clung like thin tissue over her beautiful body, and she too looked at him cruelly.

“Get back here. I’m not done with you.” The fat man snarled.

“I’m not done with you either.” She hissed, revealing sharp teeth. “My plan was to see you dead tonight and I intend for that to happen.”

“You…I will have every woman violated if you touch me!” He threatened, a surge of fear rearing his head when he realized that the pair were approaching him menacingly, and he had no real way to protect himself.

“The only one who’s going to be violated is you little pig.” Bucky growled, large hands revealing long claws. “You’ve fattened yourself plenty. Time to carve you up.”

The man now looked over at his bride and saw as hint of sharp teeth he thought he’d glimpsed earlier were now on full display. “Still want that kiss?”

He turned and ran and promptly lost his footing in the waves. Sharp hands grabbed his ankles, pulling him into the sea, dragging him to and fro until he was crying for mercy. He managed to scramble to the beach, his clothes in tatters, but they shot out of the water, like an orca catching prey. Pulled close, he was turned onto his back, giving him only a glimpse of the sleek, dark, tails and fins before they ripped him open. He screamed and screamed until he died with a pathetic whimper.

Sarah wanted his body to be found on the beach, so they left him there to rot. Glancing up she then observed the jail where the girls were being held. “I need to go save them. Once these pirates realize that he is dead they will run wild and do as they please.”

“You are free, and your mother is safe. You’ve risked enough for these people.” Bucky protested.

“I love you, Bucky, but you either help me or stay out of my way.” She replied before diving into the water.

He growled before dutifully following his beloved mate.

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The tension in the prison was high. Word had spread that the bride had stabbed the groom and now no one could find either of them. The girls didn’t know what that meant, but the loud arguments going on did not put them at ease.

“What do we do?”

“Are we still getting paid??”

“Fuck it all! I’ve been itching for that one all day!” A particularly ugly pirate approached the cells, causing the girls to huddle themselves in one corner.

“Ain’t no one saving you now little girls! Time to pay up!”

They cried and whimpered in fear.

A harsh breeze suddenly ran through the corridors of the jail, blowing the flames out, leaving them all in darkness with only the pale moonlight. A soft, dulcet voice echoed through the halls and the pirates began to unsheathe their swords.

“We need to get out of here, now!” And older pirate ordered.

“The fuck?? Why? What’s going on??”

A noise echoed down a darkened hall, sending several of the girls scrambling to the other side of their cells to avoid whatever was coming.

“Out! Out now!” The old man’s throat suddenly opened up as a dark-skinned, clawed hand dug through it and yanked the man violently against the wall, smashing his face on the stone. The younger man fumbled his pistol and tried to aim it, but a pale creature attacked him from the side and ripped him open.

The girls huddled, frightened as the sound of screams and muscles being ripped apart echoed throughout the prison. Those who were brave enough to look were shocked to see the nearly naked form of the Widow Sarah, killing the pirates in horrendous fashion. She looked nothing like the dignified widow, but like a demoness, her hair long and free, her white shift blood stained and her eyes burned with rage.

Bucky took a cutlass and used it to kill any pirates outside the prison, showing no mercy. Merfolk were fine fighters in and out of water, but there was a limit and Bucky knew that he could not remain exposed for too long. In the distance he heard more shouting and peered over a ledge to see it was the town’s people rushing with muskets, pitchforks and torches coming to save their daughters. Quickly he ran back into the building to get Sarah.

“They’ve come for their daughters!” he announced, ignoring the corpses. “We have to leave.”

Sarah agreed, then glanced at one girl still brave enough to look. “See to my mother.”

The lovers turned and fled. Running, they reached the edge of a small cliff and dived into the cool, dark waters. As soon as they reached a certain distance, Sarah gladly removed her shift and allowed her body to make its change, turning limbs into a sleek tail and fin that resembled a dolphin. Bucky smiled, pleased to finally have his beloved all to himself and gathered her in his arms for a kiss.

Home, he urged her, blue eyes blazing with love.

Home, she agreed, smiling back and allowed him to pull her into the comforting darkness of the sea and towards the place she had longed for.

__________________----

The girls told a wild tale about Sarah coming to save them, of ripping pirates to pieces before disappearing like smoke. Men went to the widow’s house and found chaos and Sarah’s poor mother shivering quietly on the stoop. She spoke of her daughter being strangled by Mayor Forks which sent them all to the beach where they found the remains of the political pig being feasted on by the seagulls and wild dogs. Her wedding dress was found clumped against some rocks and they made the tragic conclusion that they had probably killed each other, and her unfortunate corpse was dragged into the sea. How then did it explain what the girls saw? Clearly, they were overwrought and delusional, but that didn’t explain the dozens of dead pirates. The one girl who had been brave enough to look declared that Sarah must’ve returned as a vengeful spirit to save them and they owed her a debt of gratitude. Shocked and a little frightened, the citizens agreed and mobilized.

Quickly they took their daughters home and began to cleanse their town of the mayor and his evil. The elites, not nearly so willing to believe in the supernatural but also not willing to tempt fate, did their part. Craftily they spread the rumor of a pirate attack that killed their mayor and several others including the wealthy widow. Fortunately, her mother lived, and they made sure that her house was restored, that she was safe and even summoned her son to come fetch her.

The old woman was grateful for their kindness but wasn’t a fool. She knew what had become of her daughter and what had transpired. Bittersweetly, she walked the shore of the beach, staring out into the sea knowing that her daughter was now living happily below the cold depths with her true love. Although she did not keep her promise to her mother, it didn’t hurt so much. She was a mother, she understood and in the end all she wanted was her children’s happiness. Her eldest son would be arriving soon to take her with him to his home, so at least she wouldn’t be alone and when the Lord finally took her, she would rest at ease, knowing that all was well with her kin.

The house and all the goods inside were sold and soon the old woman boarded a ship that belonged to her son, who saw to her comfort. Looking back as her island home grew smaller, she and her oldest son noticed something or someone bobbing around in the middle of the sea. It was Sarah. She waved at them and blew her mother a kiss. They waved back and she blew a kiss back, stifling tears.

Sarah watched as the ship disappeared over the horizon. Bucky popped up beside her, glanced at the ship, then kissed her naked shoulder. “We need to go, my love.”

“I know. I just wanted to say good-bye one last time.” she replied, her eyes watery.

“You don’t regret us…do you?” He asked worriedly.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. “Never. I regret nothing. I love you, Bucky and there’s no place I’d rather be.”

He smiled triumphantly before kissing his true love and sank them under the cool, blue depths where they could revel in their passion more freely.

The story of the vengeful bride was told amongst the daughters who passed it to their children who then carried it along to their own. A few claimed that on the anniversary of her death one could see her wandering the beach in her wedding gown singing a sad song. Few were brave to see if it was true, the rich preferred to ignore it, but the commoners often left trinkets and food in thanks for her help. Some called her an angel, others a devil, but no one considered her a mermaid which was just fine with the merfolk who didn’t care for human attention. As for Sarah, she didn’t care of what was said, she was safe and loved, wrapped in the arms of her beloved Bucky and that was all that mattered.

The End

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lillywillow · 2 years

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Exchanging Chains to Pearls

Summary: Bucky is terrified that one day you’ll leave him. You do everything in your power to prove how much he means to you.

Written for: Bucky Barnes Bingo

Words: 845

Square Filled: Y5- Abandonment Issues

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Mild angst

Bucky felt like he didn’t deserve nice things so when you came along, it scared him that one day, you would leave him. Lately, he had been having nightmares about it. One way or another, you left him all alone. Bucky thought that maybe… if he pushed you away, it could save him the heartache but you would prove him wrong.

…

One day, Bucky was walking down the hall when he heard you talking to Steve.

“I just don’t know what to do about him, Steve. His nightmares are getting worse and he won’t talk to me about them…”

Bucky felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. This was it. This was the moment he was dreading. The part where you left him…

“He loves you very much, Y/N…”

“I know and I love him… which is exactly why I’m not going anywhere no matter how hard he pushes. I know Bucky is scared to be in a relationship which is why he’s been the way he has but I’m not leaving. I’m going to be stuck to him like a barnacle on a boat. He’s my diamond.”

“Diamond?” Steve asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

“Yeah… you see, diamonds are made by being placed under a lot of heat and pressure. At the moment, he’s gone through that and he’s in that rough stage… he just needs someone to polish him and show him how beautiful he is and make him shine… I know how cheesy that sounds…”

Bucky walked out and revealed himself, tears flowing down his face.

“Do… do you really mean that?” he asked, trembling a little.

You walked over and placed your hands on his cheeks and wiped away his tears.

“Every word, my darling. I love you so much. Whatever you’re going through, we go through it together, okay?”

Bucky kissed your palm and nodded.

“Okay… We’re in this together,” he agreed.

…

Over the next few weeks, you had been getting Bucky to go to therapy. He was of course grumpy about it but it was actually starting to help. Bucky slowly began to open up to you. He may not have told you everything about his nightmares but it was a start. You and Bucky did everything together and inch by inch, Bucky started to see himself the way you saw him. He may have still been haunted by his past but he was learning that it was okay to let some things go. Bucky was starting to see himself as Bucky again and that he was worthy of love; a love that would never leave him no matter what he did or how bad his past was.

…

One night, you and Bucky had built a blanket fort. It was just the thing he needed after a particularly stressful day dealing with the team’s annoying quirks. You had set up comfortable pillows, warm blankets, snacks and your favourite books with the tv on the outside for just a little bit of background noise. To Bucky, it was perfect. It was almost as if the outside world didn’t exist and all you needed was each other. You read The Hobbit and other fantasy books to each other until you both fell asleep in your cosy little hideaway. That night, Bucky had a dream.

…

Bucky was sitting in the fort you had built together. Usually, his dreams would begin with him locked away in a cold, dank HYDRA cell. As he examined his arms, he noticed that the heavy chains that would bind him and cut into his skin and been changed into delicate strands of pearls. They were so dainty and pretty...

Bucky gently took them off and crawled out of the fort. On the outside of the fort was the living room of the house of his dreams. He could hear you humming to yourself as something was cooking. Bucky followed the sound to find you making lunch. Smiling, Bucky came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. Giggling, you turned around to face him.

“Hi, handsome,” you purred.

“Hey, doll,” he smiled. “What are you making?”

“Your favourite… Do you want to go tell the kids to come in for lunch?”

“Kids?”

Bucky looked out in the backyard to see two children, a boy and a girl playing happily together. He went out and called them in.

“Daddy!”

The children ran up to him and hugged him.

…

That was when Bucky woke up. Smiling to himself, he watched your sleeping form. That was the first time he didn’t have a nightmare and he knew that one day, his dream could become a reality. Bucky had finally come to terms with that you weren’t going anywhere. He finally felt safe and at peace.

#Bucky Barnes #bbb2022 #Exchanging Chains to Pearls #bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnes #james buchanan barnes #abandoment issues #mild angst #Dreams #bucky barnes bingo

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worstloki · 3 years

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i personally am looking forward to Mr Walker showing up with his DIY shield and having it just fall apart at first gunfire

#like how obadiah (?) was asking people to create the tiny arc reactor/suit but they were struggling you know #so anyway can we talk about John Walker saying he's not steve or tony stark or bruce banner because #'i am captain america' *uses science on self* *goes on to make a shield*#about killing the guy who killed his friend ain't the only thing Walker was lying about XD #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #the sambucky show #oh i hope sharon shoots at the shield and it doesn't hold up #like a parallel to peggy shooting steve's perhaps?#idk #i just want it to break #john is like a cosplayer and i Do Not want him to 1v1 Sam rn #please let the man have some peace for a bit #bucky just left the boat leave the pair alone

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adrinktostopyourthirst · 2 years

Text

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Abandoned

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x You

Plot: Bucky has left, just like everyone else. But you're just pissed enough to track him down and ask him why he ever dared to leave you by yourself, only to find out the Bucky you know isn't quite there.

Warnings: 18+. Just smut and a bit of fluff.

Words: 3,1OO

Stepping into the club house, you immediately notice the lack of windows, parts of the establishment invisible from the spot you are currently standing in. Men and women in groups playing pool or darts, a few couples getting cosy in the booths situated in the dark corners of the room, and the stench of beer and smoke hanging in the air as a genre of 80’s Rock reverberates through the space.

Lifting your chin as you shrug your leather jacket comfortably on your shoulders, you peer around as casually as possible, trying to appear natural in this setting. The people inside look rough and intimidating, all in their own way. Covered in tattoos, confident looks with hazy eyes and wild hair. You can’t lie, it does feel awfully comfortable in here. No one is paying attention to you and everyone is just here having a good time.

You are about to approach the bar to order yourself a drink when the dim lights reveal more space to you the further you walk, thick wooden pillars dividing your view in fragments. Although, as if like a magnet, your energy pulls towards the one person that led you here.

Bucky.

But not just any Bucky. Bucky with rings and a partly shaved head. A grungy look combined with tenacity and power that make you swallow hard. And it’s like he can feel your eyes on him, because he instantly looks up, his mischievous eyes locking with yours as he give you a smug smile with a dainty wave. That’s when your anger from before comes back to you tenfold.

Who the fuck does Bucky think he is for abandoning you?!

Storming over to him, you watch as he takes another huff of his cigarette and gives a warning glare to the men standing at his table. He straightens up on his chair, turning away from you as you walk up and turning back to his men.

“Just don’t let him get away with it.” He orders, his face deadpanned “Now give me some time to catch up with an old friend.”

The men nod and give you a once over before leaving the two of you alone.

Stepping up to his table, you cross your arms and glower down at him, once again receiving his ever-so-smug grin as he peers up at you, amusement dancing in his darkened eyes. You have to admit he looks awfully good peering up at you like that.

“Old friend? So you do remember who I am?” You spit at him, disappointment evident in your tone.

“You would never let me forget.” He simply answers, clearly loving to get under your skin.

“Biker gang, huh? Back to your roots, I see?” Your words are like venom and you can’t deny wanting to get under his skin as well. You absolutely hate his indifference, the way he talks to you like you’re nothing more than a roadblock, a burden even. There’s an adamant part of you that wants Bucky to show you that he still cares – that he didn’t just get up and leave you to avoid everything at home.

“What roots are you referring to, sweetheart?” He smiles up at you sweetly, not giving away any irritation towards you.

Rolling your eyes at him, you step aside when two men brush past you to reach Bucky’s table. You don’t quite notice Bucky gritting his teeth by the careless men brushing you aside. They slam a large sum of money on the table and grumble something along the lines of ‘it’s taken care of’. The men return back to the other part of the club house and you stare at the money before raising your eyes back at Bucky.

“Your criminal roots.” You sneer “Asshole.”

“Wanda’s corrupted an entire town, Sam is fixing a goddamn boat and Steve has decided to just not deal with this timeline and God knows what the rest is up to. But I don’t get to have a little hobby?”

“A hobby?! Is that what this is?” You slowly step over, your posture domineering and oozing judgement “You just smoke pot, drive a bike and shoot kneecaps for fun? Does it take the edge off, Buck?”

He leans back in his chair after your rhetorical question, thighs spread wide and looking up at your with hazy, yet piercing eyes. A glint of humour shimmers through the thin rim of his irises as he presses the cigarette out onto the damaged table.

You barely recognise the Bucky you used to know. This man is more confident and casual. Instead of deflecting people like he used to, it is like he is a magnet now. Everyone watches him, wants something from him and worships the ground he walks on. And you don’t blame them. The short hair and messy beard would turn you off in most instances, but you can’t help but think it’s the perfect combination of Bucky and his dark side.

He found a certain balance and even though you’re not sure if it is the right balance, you don’t blame him for trying to find it. He is making it work for now and that’s more than you can say for yourself. Bucky is right, no one is dealing with anything properly post Blip.

“Speaking of an edge… Can I help you get rid of yours, sweetheart?” His voice is low and mocking as he cocks his head at you. He must have seen your thoughts running behind the glaze of your eyes. His palm pats his thigh gently “Have a seat. Let me help you.”

You wish you had taken a step backwards instead of forward, because he wraps his hand around your wrist and quickly pulls you in, grabbing your hips as you straddle one of his thighs.

The corded muscle of his thigh rolls over the little bundle of nerves between your legs and tingles erupt in your stomach at the feeling. Bucky drags you in further, your core grinding up until your chest is pressed to his and the thickest part of his thigh is snugly nestled against your most sensitive spot.

Hot breath fanning through your hair as the faint smell of him penetrates the heavy fog of smoke and beer and makes your eyes flutter at the familiarity, you feel his soft lips move against the shell of your ear.

“I can feel your heartbeat, baby…” He grumbles, the arm that is tightly wrapped around your waist to pull you close, moving you so that you grind over his thigh again “How long would it take for you to get my thigh wet, huh?”

You stay silent, trying not to bury your face into his neck and move your hips the way they desperately want to, especially with his goddamn voice riling you up. The throbbing between your legs is demanding attention and every time your clit rolls over his firm muscle, a ripple of lightning electrifies all of your nerves.

Bucky tuts at you in disappointment, sinking his teeth in your earlobe gently as a warning “How come that smart little mouth of yours can’t answer a simple question all of a sudden?”

You hold your breath to avoid sighing at his relentless torture, a sudden tense of his thigh makes you grit your teeth as you stifle a whimper. Gathering all the strength of your ancestors, you press your palms against his chest and pull your face away from his, searching his face as you try to steady yourself before speaking.

“Bucky, you’re deflecting.” You confront him and you see faint flash of something cross his face before his smug attitude is back in place.

“Hmm, I know.” He hums, dipping his face down to attach his mouth to your collar bone and trace his tongue of your smooth skin. Instead of pressing on his chest and pushing off, your fingers curl and grasp onto the worn fabric of his t-shirt.

When his mouth starts sucking at the base of your throat and Bucky raises his leg by tipping onto his toe and grinding his thigh up against you, you let out a gasp of his name. The sound of it makes him clasp onto you tightly, pulling you flush against him and thus forcing your arms to wrap around his neck.

“We can’t…” You stammer and bury your hands into his short hair, your mouth speaking an entirely different language than the rest of your body.

“I’ll decide that.” He grumbles against your skin, the torture of his mouth on your neck not faltering “For now, I like the way you keep my thigh warm. Makes me wonder how warm you really are.”

Once again forcing your hips to grind over his thigh, you can’t fight him any longer as you start to roll your hips slowly, his hands doing nothing more than guiding you as you decide the pace. Your breathing falls heavy and the sounds around you become a blur as all you can hear is the filthy sound of Bucky’s lips working over your skin, especially when he is working his way back up to your ear.

“Shit, you’re throbbing…” He hisses, digging his fingers into your hips painfully hard “Keep going, I can tell you love it – rubbing that sensitive little clit against me like the pent up girl you are. Use me, baby.”

You’d never heard him say these filthy words and it is sending sparks of fire through your body, combined with the tension in your muscles as you work yourself over his clothed thigh. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, your abdomen constricting at the feeling of your impending orgasm and your movements becoming sloppier, more erratic.

Heavily panting now, you gasp for air with your eyes squeezed shut. Soft moans mix with your breathing, but you don’t care who hears. You have only one goal now and that is to come on this man’s thigh. You glide and grind and roll over him, your fingers tugging at his hair and your breathing ragged as warmth flushes your body when all of a sudden, Bucky’s hands still your hips and lock you down.

As you feel your orgasm ebbing away from you, you want to scream at Bucky’s face and claw his eyes out.

Bucky stifles a chuckle at the most deadly glare he has ever received coming from you and reaches up to gently stroke your cheek. You can almost sense a hint of a pout on his lips as he mocks your frustrated state.

“Shh, I know.” He coos and you feel yourself melting and submitting to him on the inside “I just want to stuff you full when you come. Feel you come apart around me. How’s that sound?”

The heavy pulses between your legs intensify and you nearly whine at his proposal, the look on your face almost making him melt with empathy. As much as he loves seeing you all worked up and flushed for him, he loves making you come more. There is nothing he has missed more than that. Pleasing you.

Gently helping you onto your aching legs, he smirks as he takes notice of the tiny wet patch on his jeans, giving you an arrogant wink as he slides his arm around your waist. Dragging you with him to the back of the underground bar, his focus is on you and you alone. Everyone in this bar can drop dead for all he cares.

As your earlier daze falters slightly and the fog in your brain lifts, you are just about to confront Bucky when your words get swallowed by him. His mouth is heavy on yours, desperate and claiming. Hands digging at your waist to pull you as closely as possible and tongue teasing at yours and your lips, you moan into the kiss. Leaving your protests at the door Bucky has just closed, you wrap yourself around him and sigh against his mouth.

A small, startled gasp leaves your lips when Bucky presses you up against the wall, his thigh wedging between your legs again as he traps you. His full, heavy weight has you cornered and all you can feel is him. He is everywhere and he is all consuming, his need for you bleeding into his kiss and his touches as you sink down onto his thigh again, chasing your much needed relief.

That’s when you feel his need against your stomach and you press forward, eliciting a groan from him. He pulls away like you’re on fire and you watch as his chest heaves.

“Get undressed. Now. Or I swear to God…”

…

There could be a fire in the room by the way your skin is flushed, rosy cheeks and clammy skin as Bucky’s warm palms dig into your flesh. You’re hiccupping with your words, choking on air as every time you try to vocalise the immense pleasure you’re feeling, Bucky’s cock drives into you so far it knocks the sense straight out of you.

His thrusts are long and heavy, as desperate and feral as he is for you, he forces his body to roll into yours like he has all the time in the world to make you come. He’s so thick, dragging against your swollen walls and nudging the bubble of pleasure that swells in your lower abdomen.

It’s so good, so good, and deep and hard and full, but all he does is shove you towards the edge and grasping you back just when you’re about to tip over it.

Your nails have buried themselves into his shoulder and scalp, your sweat gluing him to you in an attempt to keep him close, your thighs burning as they squeeze around his hips and your core aching as it pulses around him fervently.

His breathing is heavy against your ear as Bucky tries with all his might to hold out and sate his need to drive you insane.

“Fucking hell, remind me why I left again?” He groans, his next thrust particularly fulfilling as both of you shudder in unison, him resting inside of you for a long second to relish in the feeling.

“Because you’re a dick.” You gasp with an uneven tremble in your voice, throwing your head back against the wall and clenching around him tightly.

Grasping you by your hair and dragging your forehead to attach to his, he gives you a devious smile “You can’t live without me.”

“Bucky. Shut up and make me come.” You sneer, a low moan pushed from you body by a sharp thrust straight into your spot.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Pressing you into the hard wall with more force than before, he drives his hips into you so fast, so deep and so rhythmically that you whimper loudly. Your body tenses and heats up until you feel like you are bursting with flames.

Pulling him closer by wrapping your arms around him, his thrusts become more shallow and sharper, rocking the tip of him against the coil that winds tighter and tighter and tighter until heat unfurls in your body and you tremble in his arms. Eyes rolling back and a silent scream leaving your lips, you flutter around him and sink down onto his cock to keep him inside of you.

Bucky groans deeply as he can’t help but finally allow himself to release inside of you, your aching heat milking him for all that he has.

His face buries itself in your chest and you stroke his hair with trembling fingers, your head falling back as you let your eyes fall shut and slowly regain your breathing.

“I missed you.”

His confession hangs in the air and tears through your heart painfully. You grit your teeth, remaining in your current position.

“Me, or having sex with me?”

His head slowly raises from your chest and he takes your chin to drag your eyes back to his.

“What the hell do you think?”

“I think you forgot about me until I was standing in front of you.” You keep your voice sturdy as you throw the accusation at him, fully convinced it must have been the case.

He gently puts you down, walking over to a nearby sink and helping you clean yourself up before handing you your clothes. You can hear him think, think of a way to tell you that you are in fact correct, but without hurting your feelings.

“Jesus, Buck…” You roll your eyes at the dramatics, getting dressed.

“Shut up for a second, okay?!” He shouts and you clench your jaw, slipping your leather jacket over your shoulders and fixing your hair in a disgusting mirror hung on the wall.

Bucky runs his hand through his new beard in frustration, trying to think of the right words. His mind is reeling, all to figure out a way to make you stay.

“I was figuring it out. I was finally getting back on my feet and then you show up and this fucking gap in my body starts to ache.” He confesses, avoiding eye contact when you turn around to face him. “I was trying to forget you and it worked – only for a second. But then you fucking show up and everything comes crashing down.”

“Fine.” You swallow hard, trying to hide the fact that his words made you feel terribly lonesome “I’ll just leave you alone then.”

“-No!” He quickly stops you, blocking the door “No… I fucking need you. You’re not getting away from me again.”

You flare up, his confession doing the opposite of what you think it would do to you “Are you telling me I’m the one that left? Because if you are blaming all this biker bullshit on me, I will strangle you with my bare hands!”

He sighs and grasps your hips, the ease in which he pulls you into him shouldn’t surprise you anymore. That’s when he presses a soft kiss to your nose.

“As much as I love it when you get all angry and riled up, I’d so much rather you stick by my side.” He tells you, his voice low and warm in an attempt to calm you down. You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it again “I’ll spend every day making it up to you. Get on my knees for you every morning.”

You can’t help the smile that creeps over your lips and you shake your head in amusement “You are incorrigible.”

“That. And I think I am madly in love with you.”

#bucky barnes oneshot #not sure i like this one too much #but i am avoiding my responsibilities and that gif has me trembling #liked writing the beginning most #BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT #BIKER BUCKY IS NICE :))#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #oneshot #writing #marvel smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #smut #e to l

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chrisevansredbelt · 2 years

Text

Sweet

pairing: bucky x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, NSFW, mentions of pregnancy, lactation kink, boobies, established relationship (bucky x reader), lmk if there’s more.

ermmmm idk how like the spacing on tumblr works but it makes me wanna start throwing up and crying, i’m sorry if it bothers u trust me i’m just as annoyed

(gif not mine!)

Sitting at the table with all your friends at another one of Tony’s parties was nice. It was both yours and Bucky’s first ever party since having a child a few months ago. The parties continued in your absence but were obviously no longer a priority for you or Bucky now that you had a bundle of life to care for.

This one, however, was quite special. It was Tony’s birthday.

Lavish as ever, the party consisted of a three course meal. You almost wished you were pregnant again so as to not feel guilty for eating so much, but once you saw that everyone was pretty much in the same boat, you no longer cared.

Not only was this the first party since having your baby, it was also really the first time leaving her alone in general. Of course, she wasn’t alone alone. She was being baby-sat by Sam’s sister, Sarah. You both had your worries about leaving her alone, whether it was Sarah, Steve, or even Queen Elizabeth, you just worried.

You missed her dearly as well. Right about now, she’d be getting ready for bed, probably still full of energy with her father trying desperately to tire her out, but was probably only fuelling her even more.

Snapping you out of your thoughts was the sudden ache in your boobs that came and went every now and then due to your pregnancy. The pain was bearable at times, but it was when you started leaking that it was a problem… such as now.

With Bucky and the rest of your friends all engrossed in some story Steve was telling, you quietly stood from your chair and excused yourself to the bathroom.

Bucky gave you a look of slight concern- something he had grown accustomed to ever since you fell pregnant- but your hand caressing his shoulder told him not to worry.

Even though, he probably should.

The walk to the bathroom only seemed to worsen the pain, every step just making it worse. As soon as you shut the door to the private bathroom, you locked it before pulling your tits completely out of the confines of your dress.

“Oh, God.” You groaned at the pain. They had noticeably swelled and were just aching to be… milked. Grabbing a few paper towels from the dispenser, you dabbed around your nipples to get rid of the wetness.

You knew it was no use, seeing as they just started leaking again and would probably continue to do so until you could probably pump them.

You debated stuffing toilet paper down your dress and over your nipples but knew it would probably show through the dress and also need changing every few minutes. And besides, the pain was only getting worse.

The party hadn’t even really started yet. You hadn’t even sung happy birthday to Tony yet or cut the cake. He probably wouldn’t care if you or Bucky left, but you want some of that damn cake because you know it’ll be the best damn cake you’ll ever eat until Tony’s next party- you couldn’t wait that long.

Opting for your last resort, you pulled up your phone and flicked Bucky a message.

‘Help, please 😥 Bathroom.’

The use of the emoji would let him know that you weren’t in immediate danger- which you had mistakenly worried him for once before. Bucky had thought you were in serious trouble once when you had sent an ‘SOS 😰’ message while at a different party. He had freaked out not knowing where you were or what had happened. When he found you, you were fine and just wanted to leave the party. He was a little angry with you for getting him so worried, to which you defended yourself with ‘Buck, if I have enough time to search for and choose an emoji, I’m not in danger’.

The knock of the bathroom door, followed by Bucky’s soft, “Honey?” Caused you to momentarily pull your dress back up and at least make yourself decent before opening the door and pulling him in, shutting it behind him and locking it.

He looked at you worriedly, but raised his brows once you had pulled your dress back down.

“I don’t have my pump and they hurt so bad.” You quickly explain, resting your head against his shoulder tiredly.

“O-okay, what should I do?” He asked, not quite knowing what exactly to do in this current predicament, “You can’t like just squeeze it out into the sink?”

“It hurts when I squeeze it out like that.” You sighed. You knew what could solve this issue immediately. You knew from the moment you walked into the bathroom and saw how swollen they had gotten. Taking your head off Bucky’s shoulder, you ran your hands down his chest, straightening his lapels out of nervousness for what you were about to ask. “I need you to-“ You looked up at him now, “To suck on them.”

He opened his mouth to speak as he looked over you, but no words came out.

Instead, he guided you to sit atop the counter, helping you up in the process, as he became level with your tits.

He was obviously no stranger to your boobs. You had a child for Christs Sake. But you still felt oddly foreign to this kind of intimacy.

All your thoughts had washed away when Bucky had closed his mouth around your left nipple (the one he knew you despised). He was cupping both so delicately as to not hurt you, but you shut your eyes in pure bliss as you felt the release and the pain slowly dissipate.

Running your hand through his long strands, you massaged his scalp gratefully as he finished up on the left side.

“Compliments to the chef.” He said, wiping his mouth and you gave him a hazy smile, trying not to give in and laugh at his stupid comment, “It’s actually really good. It’s like sweet.”

“Shut up and keep going.” You shook your head with a smile. You were still in pain from your right boob and you wanted it gone immediately now that your left was satisfied, “It feels so nice not having teeth sinking into them for once.” You noted as he softly sucked where’s your baby would, unknowingly of course, use both her gums and now her gradual teeth on you. You should never had said this though, because Bucky thought it would be funny to softly bite down on your nipple, causing you to jolt and accidentally tug on his hair, “Ow!”

He continued sucking until he felt you fully relaxed in his hold. He knew your body like that.

“Better?” He asked as he pulled away, grabbing a paper towel to wipe you down.

You nodded, leaning back against the mirror as he cleaned you up, “Thank you.”

“Anything for my girls.” He places a kiss to both of them before pulling your dress back up to cover them.

Well, there was one thing you knew for sure. You had married the right one.

Oh and also, maybe to always carry a pump with you. Just in case Bucky’s not there.

*+ Epilogue +*

After the incident in the bathroom, you and Bucky had since settled back at your table, still awaiting the cake as Tony went off mingling.

Besides, everyone needed some time to make space in their stomachs for more food.

“Drink?” Bucky asked you, standing up out of his chair.

You looked up at him and around all the other men who had seemed to be standing and taking drink orders.

“Just a refill?” You asked, offering your empty glass to him. Though you were no longer pregnant, you didn’t really feel like drinking and instead opted for raspberry lemonade. Taking your glass, not missing the knowing glance he sent your way, he and the guys fled to the bar to fetch more drinks, leaving you and the rest of the girls at the table.

You kept to yourself as the others talked, admiring your husbands suit for the night as he ordered the drinks.

Only, you were so immersed in the back of his head and ass that you barely even realised that your table had gone silent and almost everyone was looking at you.

“You two are disgusting.” Natasha spoke, breaking you out of your thoughts. Though her words sounded spiteful, the smile on her- and everyone else’s- face said otherwise.

You were utterly confused.

“What?” You ask genuinely. Slightly panicking that you had unknowingly orgasmed at the sight of your husband or something.

Natasha scoffs as Wanda, Maria and Carol smile harder, “You leave the table with your boobs a double D cup, come back a D. And Bucky won’t stop licking his lips and staring at your tits.”

Fuck.

“Fuckin’ trained assassin.” You shook your head in disbelief that she had figured you out purely based off of the size of your tits and Bucky’s not-so subtle behaviour. “I didn’t have my pump.” You defend to the rest of them, but they all just playfully roll their eyes. “Well when one of you have a baby and start leaking on your favourite dress at a big party, don’t expect me to offer my pump.”

“Are you referring to an actual pump or Bucky?”

my first ever fic, pls leave feedback or requests!

#bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky smut #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader

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thighs-of-betrayal-blog · 3 years

Text

Louisiana Confessions

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger! reader (based on TFAWS)

Summary: You and Bucky have always had feelings for each other, but neither of you have admitted to them. After everything that went down in NY with the Flag Smashers, Bucky decides to come clean about how he feels.

Warnings: None that I know of. Pure fluff

A/N: Hi! This is my first ever fic that I’m posting on here. I’ve always been super nervous to post my writing, but I decided to just go for it (I plan on posting more fics soon)! I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think, thank you!! :)

You stare over at Bucky and Sam. They’re both fixing the boat, while you lounge on the dock. You wanted to help, even offered, but Bucky insisted you relax, since you had gotten hurt during the fight against the Flag Smashers.

“Hey, Y/N. How’re you feeling?” Sarah asks, as she comes over to sit down next to you.

“I’m alright, thanks. I just wish I was helping out in some way. Bucky insisted I sit out because of my shoulder. I know he means well, but I just feel useless sitting here.”

“He’s very protective over you, don’t you think?” Sarah looks at you with a grin on her face.

“What do you mean?”

“I can see he really cares about Sam, but with you, it’s something more.”

“You suggesting Bucky likes me?” you ask.

“Likes you back.” Sarah corrects.

“How.. how did you know I have feelings for Bucky?”

“It’s not too hard to figure out. It’s pretty obvious actually, but I guess you both are oblivious.”

“Gee thanks.” You stare at Bucky as he turns to look over at you and smiles. “He doesn’t like me back though.”

Sarah looks between you and Bucky. “Just keep it in mind. But, since you said you are feeling useless… want to help me with the kids?”

You turn to look at Sarah and smile. “I’d love to.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bucky turns to see you playing with the kids in the backyard. His heart instantly softens.

“What’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?” Sam asks. “Thinking about Miss Y/N over there?”

Bucky looks at Sam with an incredulous look on his face. “What? No. But, if you must know, I was checking out the grass. Really looks like it could use a trim.”

“Yeah, sure. And, I’m a super soldier.”

“No, you’re not.”

Sam starts to sigh. “Yeah, no shit I’m not. It’s a lie, just like the lie you just told me.”

Bucky turns to focus on the pipe he was tightening. “I didn’t lie.”

Sam put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Just go talk to her. Tell her how you feel. I’m sure she feels the same way.”

Bucky stands up to go walk towards Y/N and looks back at Sam. “Now you’re the one who’s lying.”

Sam spreads his arms out wide. “Uncle Sam don’t lie, man. Now, go get your girl!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, alright, you win!” you yell while laughing, as Sarah’s kids tickle you after tackling you to the ground. “Somebody help me” you laugh out.

“Hey now, let’s leave Y/N alone. She’s gotta bad shoulder” Bucky says while getting the kids off you and helping you up off the ground.

You laugh. “Hey, Buck. Thanks for the rescue. My shoulder is fine though.”

“Just looking out for you, doll.” Bucky turns towards Sarah’s kids. “I heard Sam needs some help over on the boat and if you go, there will be chocolate cake with both of your names on it after dinner.”

“Sweet” Sarah's kids yell as they run towards the docks.

You watch as they run away and then turn towards Bucky. “Wanted them out of here that bad? I thought you liked them. I saw you playing with them earlier.”

Bucky looks at you and laughs. “I do like them, but I needed to talk to you alone.”

You instantly start to worry. “Is everything okay?”

Bucky notices you tensing up and reaches out to grab your hand. “No, no, doll, nothing bad.”

You stare down at his hand holding yours. “Then, what is it?”

Bucky looks past you, at the bench sitting a few feet away. “Why don’t we sit down?”

You nod your head. “Yeah, yeah okay, let’s sit. You’re starting to make me nervous, Buck.”

You follow him over to the bench. “Don’t be nervous. I’m a little nervous, but you have nothing to be nervous about. Unless what I tell you scares you, then maybe you should be nervous, but…”

“Hey.” You grab Bucky’s chin with your hand and force him to look at you. “It’s just me.” You start to run your hand up his jaw and caress his skin.

Bucky closes his eyes and lets out a long breath. He reopens his eyes and you see nothing but love in them. “My ma always told me to do sweet gestures for a woman. I was going to do more than this, once we left here, but Sam convinced me to just do it now. I know this is random, but…”

“Buck, your rambling again. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

Bucky puts his hand on top of the one you have on his face. “You, Y/N. You’re on my mind. Been on my mind for forever. And, seeing you get hurt against the Flag Smashers, I..I just lost it. I can’t lose you, doll. You’re my everything and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. I love you, Y/N. Been in love with you, since you persisted on stitching up my wound when we first met, all those years ago.”

You let out a small laugh. “You were bleeding out on your side, Buck. You would have died. I had to stitch you up.”

Bucky lets out a laugh too. “I know, doll, I know. But, I didn’t know you and I didn’t trust anyone but Steve at the time. You were so careful stitching me up though. And, you were so sweet to me and didn’t judge me.”

“There was nothing to judge you for. That wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault. The man I saw sitting there quietly as I stitched him up was a good man. Still is a good man. He’s the man I fell in love with. The man I still love and will always love.”

Bucky smiles hard and you smile back at him.

“Love, huh? Well, in that case, this man would love a kiss from you, doll. Is that okay?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t just kissed me already.”

Bucky places his hand on your cheek and starts to lean in. “What can I say? My ma raised me right.”

You start to lean in, so your faces are only inches apart. “Always a gentleman. Now, shut up and kiss me.”

“With pleasure.” Bucky finally closes the gap between you and kisses you.

Deep in the back of your mind, you’re thinking that you’re going to have to thank the Wilson siblings later.

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petertingle-yipyip · 2 years

Text

NIGHTMARE - FIVE (BUCKY BARNES)

FIVE - SOMEBODY THAT YOU USED TO KNOW

Last Part // Next Part // Masterlist

Tags: @writingsbychlo @calums-betch @ladyyystark @buckyys-doll @bangtanxberm @tgirljeep388 @spideysimpossiblegirl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x HYDRA!reader

Word Count: 10,983

Summary: She thought she could retire the mask and be done, but when she’s framed for a blatantly amateur attack, she has to put it back on and clear her name. Can she keep her friends in the process?

Notes/Warnings: sorry it’s late! i’ve been so tired lately! anyway, blood mention, language, and violence. also, i wanna develop her backstory a lil more so send asks about her

About a year later, you had made little progress on your quest to find James Barnes. You had been calling in favors and asking the right people but almost every net you cast came up empty.

“Yeah, he was here but we haven’t seen him in months.”

“No, he’s not familiar.”

“I’ve never heard that name before, sorry.”

“I’ve been wondering where he went myself. He just disappeared one day.”

The best lead you had was ‘somewhere in Romania’ and that was just what a girl who had a homegrown fruit stand said she overheard. You thought about whether or not it would be better to leave him alone, to not find him. Maybe that’s what the universe was trying to tell you. After all, you had a hand in what would be the worst chapter of his life. You were considering giving up if your current lead took you nowhere.

Maybe James really didn’t want to be found.

You stopped off in London once you heard about the funeral from Sam, and he only told you because he knew Steve would need another friend. You stood off in the back, not feeling it was right to push to the front to be with Steve - even though he was the only reason you were there. You just wanted to check on him but since you didn’t know Peggy Carter personally, it would’ve been wrong to claim a front row spot. After the funeral, you found him still in the Cathedral even though everyone else had left.

“I thought I’d find you here.” You said gently as you approached him and placed a comforting hand on arm. “You okay?”

“When I came out of the ice, I thought everyone I knew was gone.” He said simply. “And then I found out she was alive. I was just lucky to have her.”

“She had you back too.” You offered. “Come here.” You smiled softly, moving in to hug your friend.

“What are you doing here?” He asked with a thankful smile while you pulled away. “I thought you were looking for Bucky.”

“Yeah, I’m on my way to chase down a lead but to be honest, I don’t know how reliable it is. At this point, I feel like I’m just grasping at straws.” You said regretfully. You wished you had better news for him. “I'm not sure if I should keep going though. I owe it to him, I know. But it’s like he knows someone is looking and he’s slipping through my fingers…I had to make a stop to check on a friend before that though. And it looks like someone else had the same idea.” You smiled as Natasha joined you.

“Who else signed?” Steve asked after a small pause. He assumed she was here on business and that made you a bit sad. They were closer friends than that, weren’t they?

“Tony, Rhodey, Vision.” Natasha answered.

“Clint?”

“Says he’s retired.”

“Maximoffs?”

You frowned. What had you missed that had everyone so divided?

“TBD.. I’m off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords. There’s plenty of room on the jet, for both of you.” She turned to you with a pointed look.

“Oh no.” You shook your head quickly. “I won’t be at someone else’s disposal, not until I fix what HYDRA did to my head. People have agendas and those change. Plus, I have no idea what’s going on. I’m sorry..”

“You don’t have to apologize, Y/N.” Steve said gently, patting your arm.

“Just because it’s the path of least resistance doesn’t mean it’s the wrong path.” Natasha continued. “Staying together is more important than how we stay together..”

“But what are we giving up to do it?” He countered sadly.

“I’ve been in that boat, y’know.” You jumped in. “Trying to stay together, not concerning myself with how I stayed with them… The ends don’t always justify the means.”

Steve sighed and shook his head, looking at his friend with a sorrowful expression. “I’m sorry, Nat. I can’t sign it.”

“I know.” She nodded.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want you to be alone.” She said softly before pulling him in for a hug.

You slipped away during that interaction. You were glad Steve had someone else to check on him, so you left him in Natasha’s care and went back to your chase while making a mental note to look into the Accords situation after. If you had known how out of control the rest of the day would get, you probably would’ve stayed with Steve. Granted, you probably would’ve ended up in the same place, but you’d be wearing a different suit.

You hadn’t even boarded the train when you saw the news. The United Nations in Vienna was bombed. King T’Chaka of Wakanda was dead. Nightmare and the Winter Soldier were being blamed.

Your mind was reeling as you boarded your ride. There was no one looking at you or even concerning themselves with you, so why did you feel like you would be arrested?

Why was your heart racing?

Was that guy staring at you?

Why were your palms sweating?

Did you zip your bag all the way? What if someone saw your mask?

But you hadn’t done it. And you knew James wouldn’t have. There was no reason to be so tense. No one was looking.

When you finally reached your destination, the first thing you did was call Steve.

“He didn’t do it.” You said as soon as he answered. “Neither did she. You have to know that, Steve.”

“Did you find him?”

“Not yet.” You began and headed down the streets to the hotel you booked. It was local, small, partially secluded. Good thing too, easier to bring Nightmare out. “They’re not letting a lot of trains in or out right now.” You lied.

“Maybe you should wait a little while then. I would hate for you to get mixed up in all this and get hurt. It’s gonna get messy.”

“Steve, I’m a big girl. You’re talking like we didn’t fight together in Sokovia.”

“If he’s this far gone, I should be the one to bring him in.”

“He’s not gone.” You nearly pleaded. “Please, you know him better than anyone. And what if I could get through to him too?”

“It’s gotta be me, Y/N.”

“You know she’s gonna be there too.” You tried to warn him. It seemed like a terrible time to tell him that you would be there, so that reveal would have to wait a little while longer. But maybe if you could get him to agree to meet with you before he tried to find James, Nightmare would keep her distance. “She’s not gonna let her name get tarnished and make her look so amateur. She takes pride in her work… You sure you don’t want me to come?”

“I’m counting on her being there. She worked with Buck for a long time. She’ll want to help him too.”

“She’s selfish. She’ll only care about her image and her reputation.”

“If we can clear Bucky, it’ll clear her name too. I think I can get through to her.”

“You sure about that?” You challenged slightly.

“I have to try.”

“Just be careful.” You sighed. “I can’t lose you guys again.”

“She’s had plenty of chances to hurt me.” He chuckled. “I don’t think she’s the person HYDRA made her to be, not anymore.”

“Keep me updated, please. And don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stay safe.”

You quickly checked into your hotel and once you entered the room, you dug through your duffel to find the familiar uniform. You laid it out on the bed and hesitated, staring intently at the fabric. It felt so foreign but so familiar at the same time. So inappropriate but so natural. Wrong but also so right.

That’s what happens when you practically lived in that suit for decades.

The dark blue top with plated forearms. The black pants with reinforced knees. The red belt with the HYDRA emblem. The dark grey boots. The black and grey gloves. The dark grey hood. The black mask.

You pulled one of the knives and used it to pry off the HYDRA emblem before snapping it between your hands. You left the space open, as if to symbolize that you didn’t need to fill the space that HYDRA took up in your life. You added some of the new equipment you had made with Tony Stark before Ultron to your belt. You considered using the new cloak and the connectable staff with concealed blades, but those would be too much of a dead giveaway to Steve.

Truthfully, the only reason you had your old uniform with you was because you planned on telling James the truth when you found him. There was a lot of doubt in your mind. Whether he would believe you to be Nightmare,. Whether he would remember you as Y/N. Whether he would even want to see you again. You had to push the doubts to the back of your head and focus on the task at hand.

Find James. Get him somewhere safe. Find out who bombed the UN. Clear your names. Tell him and Steve the truth.

Easy… Right?

You quickly changed clothes, pulled your hair back, and snuck out the window and down to the alleyway. You pulled up the hood and dawned your mask before heading out. Keeping to the shadows and alleys, you made your way across the city to where you had heard James would be. But Steve had beat you there.

“Captain.” You greeted as you pushed your hood back.

“Nightmare.” He nodded. “She told me you’d be here.”

“Yes, I heard all about Y/N’s escapades as an Avenger. I’m glad she got the chance to do something good. She deserved that. She was always the better one between us.” You nodded. Your eyes scanned the room for any sign of James. You landed on a notebook on top of the fridge. “Y’know, I wasn’t sure if you survived that day after the helicarriers went down… Until I saw you on the news, of course. Busting HYDRA bases one at a time.”

“I thought you would’ve retired. I heard you wanted the simple life.”

“I tried.” You nodded. “Someone’s trying to use my name and I worked too hard to create this image to have someone drag it through the mud... Captain, would you believe me if I told you that I didn’t do it?”

“I believe you.”

You flipped the pages as he came to look over your shoulder. He didn’t seem afraid of you, as if he knew who you were under the mask. Surprisingly, the idea of that didn’t seem to bother you since it’d be one less confession and it wasn’t as if he was holding it against you. You read through James’ notes, figuring out it was memories, bits and pieces that came back during his time alone. You saw Nightmare written multiple question marks.

The next couple pages were about Y/N and Steve. There was a picture cut out of each of you and one of you two fighting together in Sokovia. You saw small notes written beside your picture but the writing was too rushed for you to make out. You couldn’t help but smile softly.

“Understood.” He said suddenly.

“What?”

“German Special Forces incoming.” He explained.

“Damn it.” You mumbled. “And here I was thinking it would be in and out.”

You glanced around and met James’ eyes. You hadn’t even heard him. You handed Steve the journal and took a couple tentative steps forward.

“Long time no see.” You said carefully, drawing Steve’s attention. “Do you remember me?”

“Nightmare.” He nodded. “We were partners.”

“Do you know me?” Steve asked.

“You’re Steve.” James answered and you felt relief in your chest. “I read about you in a museum.”

“I know you’re nervous.” You continued, moving in closer. “There’s plenty reason to be, but I know you’re lying, James.”

“I wasn’t in Vienna. I don’t do that anymore” He turned to you. “You know that.”

“That’s why I’m here.” You nodded. “I wasn’t there either.”

“The people who think you two did are coming here now.” Steve warned. “They’re not gonna take you alive.”

“That’s smart.” James said flatly. “Good strategy.”

“I wouldn’t want to take us alive either.” You agreed.

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight.” Steve offered. You could tell his offer was genuine, but you also knew he was wrong.

“It always ends in a fight.” James sighed. He was so tired of it and you couldn’t blame him. You knew exactly what they feeling felt like.

“You pulled me from the river.” Steve urged. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.” Steve challenged.

“You know something, Soldier.” You interjected, pulling your hood back over your head and trying to keep your voice monotonous. “Cause you only made sure he got out… Didn’t look back even once.”

You caught the look he gave you and you instantly regretted your words. His eyes were regretful, almost enough to convince you that he wished he had gone back for you. Obviously you didn’t know, but the more he was able to remember about Nightmare, the more he realized something. You actually did look out for him the best you could when you were yourself and not the inoculated weaponized version of yourself.

You trained him, but you weren’t as brutal as HYDRA wanted you to be. You called it your ‘constant act of defiance’, to not treat him as a weapon but as an equal. You were his partner, and you prioritized his safety and him every single time. You cleaned him up and tended to his wounds. You answered all of his questions, sometimes vaguely but you still answered.

Two grenades came through the windows first, one after the other. Steve smacked the first one aside with his shield and James kicked the second to Steve, who used his shield to contain the blast. When they tried to open the door, James threw the table to wedge it in front so it couldn’t open.

Two men came flying through the windows next. You used your cloak to protect James from the bullets from one of the soldiers shot at the two of you. He turned to face you after knocking out the one he was fighting. His eyes were wide, as if he didn’t expect you to still protect him. You shot him a quick wink and moved back into the fight once the bullets stopped.

A third came through the backdoor but Steve pushed the barrel of the gun away. You and James landed a tandem front kick that sent the soldier flying.

“Stop.” Steve said to both of you. “You’re gonna kill someone.”

You and James shared a look before moving together. You each put a hand on Steve’s belt and the other under his arm. Together, you lifted and slammed him to his back. James put his hand through the floorboards and pulled out a small getaway bag.

“I’m not gonna kill anyone.” James said firmly before flinging his bag to the neighboring rooftop.

“If you weren’t gonna trust us, you shouldn’t have come.” You told Steve simply, turning your head to hide your eye roll. “We can’t sit here and walk on eggshells.”

Steve grabbed your arm quickly. “You may not be the villain, but don’t act like you’re a hero.” He said firmly.

“A hero?” You scoffed. “What, like you? Like Y/N?”

Before Steve could offer a rebuttal, the shots rang through the room.

You knelt and pulled your cloak up to block the bullets while Steve shielded James. You saw a man entering from the side window so you slid across the floor and planted your palms to use as a push off. You leaned into your palms and kicked your feet out to connect firmly with the man’s chest. The force you kicked with was enough to send you through the opening as well so you added a solid punch to knock him unconscious.

You heard the three shots at the door and figured out they were blowing the hinges off. You jumped back through the window and pushed past Steve to stand beside James. Your fingers itched to grab your blade but you resisted. Instead, you turned to James and raised your eyebrows.

“We just gonna wait for them to get in or what?” You asked with a playful smile beneath your mask.

He chuckled lightly and shook his head, seemingly amused. Maybe he didn’t realize until you were standing in front of him but he missed having you around. He liked your little jokes and comments during a fight, having fun with what you did. He liked how you were still playful and teasing, despite going through everything you had. He didn’t know anything about your life before HYDRA but he wondered if you were always that light-hearted or if it was just a facade so everything else didn’t seem so bad. Something about that chuckle made a heat climb your cheeks under your mask. It had been so long since you heard that sound.

The slams outside the door reminded you of your current situation. He dropped his shoulder and ran through, likely knocking down whoever was behind it.

“After you.” You commented though he was already gone and Steve was moving after him quickly.

You considered following and fighting with them. The three of you would be able to handle whatever force was out there. But something told you there’d be more of a fight outside the building. You went for the backdoor instead, looking to where his backpack landed. You estimated the distance and decided it wasn’t smart to make the jump from there. Even if you made it, the landing wouldn’t be pretty. You had to get lower and give yourself a better angle.

You went out through the main door just in time to see a man crashing through the skylight. While James had his arm up to protect from the bullets, you stepped to the top of the hand rail and jumped. You put both feet on his stomach and held to his wire of balance. You swung him to the opposite side of the stairwell and unlatched the wire from his belt, throwing you both into the wall.

You groaned slightly and leaned against the wall. The impact jarred your head and knocked some of the wind from your lungs. You took a deep breath and winced slightly. Looking down at the sharp pain in your side, you saw the tender flesh leaking blood and something reflecting the light sticking out. The glass must’ve cut you when you went through the window. You clenched your jaw as you ripped the glass out and let it clatter at your feet.

A cold hand was under your arm and you let him haul you to your feet. You turned your body away discreetly, blocking the wound from view. He must’ve seen the look on your face because his eyes scanned your body for injuries.

“You worry too much.” You nudged his shoulder slightly. “There’s no time. We gotta go.” Nodding that you were okay, you led him down the stairwell and into the seemingly never ending fight. You knew he didn’t believe you but he didn’t press the issue.

While he and Steve kept fighting through officers, you had to get out of there. You needed space to actually examine and clear your wound before you lost too much blood. Using one hand as a focal point, you hopped over the railing and began falling. The shots rang out as you passed the lower levels but none of them hit. You quickly connected your wire to your wrist and shot it around the bottom poles to catch yourself. You kicked your feet to throw yourself to the ground before retracting the wire.

The jolt of the impact made your side burn wildly and forced you to your knee while you grit your teeth to avoid any sound. You pushed through the pain and moved into a jog down the hallway before leaping across the gap to the next rooftop. You rolled through your landing multiple times, each rotation jamming small rocks and gravel into your open wound.

You cried out in pain since you were alone and laid flat on your back for a few moments until the worst of the stinging went away. You crawled to put your back against the ledge of the roof and threw your hood back. Gingerly, you ran your gloved fingers over the wound to clear the small rocks. You couldn’t keep in the hisses from the burning feeling that shot up your side. It may have only been a small shard but it danced along the line of being a very abrupt end of your day and it had landed in a very tender area. You blinked a couple times to clear the tears once you realized they were threatening and clenched your jaw to prepare yourself.

You removed your gloves and tucked them into your belt quickly. You placed both hands over the wound and took a deep breath before pressing your palms down hard. You groaned through your clenched teeth and dropped your head back, closing your eyes tightly. A small whine left your throat as you counted in your head, counting to 30 in hopes that would be enough to stop the bleeding.

You pulled your hands away after you finished your count and saw no new blood leaving the wound, though your hands were stained red. You let out a relieved laugh and wiped your hands frantically on your pants before you shoved your hands back into your gloves. As you were fastening the clasps, you noticed the hems of your sleeves were stained red. You groaned in annoyance but put it out of your mind once you saw James rolling through his landing. You jumped to your feet and fell into stride with him. Every step sent a jolt through the wound but you would manage.

“What took you so long?” You teased as you saw the incoming shadow. “Oh shit.” You mumbled before shoulder checking James to send him to the side.

You spun on your toes and staggered your stance, knowing there was going to be enough force in the coming impact to send you backwards. The figure tried landing with his feet first, so you grabbed his ankle when he made contact with you and dragged him to the ground with you. James was quick to help you to your feet as the figure across from you stood and brandished sharp metal claws.

“The Black Panther.” You muttered in awe. “I thought you were a legend. What uh, what are you doing all the way out here?”

He ignored your words and made a beeline for James. The two attacked each other intently, James more on the defensive side. The Black Panther was able to get James on his back so you had to move in. You rolled forward and threw a plated forearm in front of James. He quickly ducked out of the way but your plates weren’t enough.

The claw on his thumb sliced through your arm. You cried out and used the other hand to secure his wrist. You yanked your pierced arm away and forced the claws into the metal James was backed up against. You spun on your knee and swung a hook kick against his spine so his face hit the same metal.

You stepped on his back with one foot and the extended arm with the other and used the points as push offs for a backflip that had enough force to make him bash his face again. You yanked a hand out of your glove and shoved it in your belt before pressing your palm against the slice and wrapping your fingers around your arm tightly. James was by your side and attempted to check your arm but you pulled it away.

“I’m fine. There’s no time to worry about me.” You elbowed him away slightly. “That’s what we need to worry about.”

As soon as your words finished, the Black Panther came running towards you two. He moved through the small space between you two and reached around both of your necks. He jumped up and threw his body into a move similar to a kip, slamming you both to your backs.

You groaned but had no time to recover after you smacked your head. He leaped to gain height and put more force behind his claws. You turned your feet towards James and kicked off with all the strength you could, sending him in one direction and you in another. You threw your legs up to move into a backwards tumble and drew a knife from your belt, having to grip it tightly to compensate for the blood that coated your palm.

Before you could move in, gunfire came from a helicopter. Sam kicked the tail into a spin before the bullets could reach you so you tucked your knife, got James to his feet, and took off running. You and James hopped over the ledge and landed lightly on an overhang.

He turned to watch for the Black Panther, who was completely unscathed by the bullet barrage from moments ago, but you weren’t waiting. You guys couldn’t afford to. You grabbed his wrist and jumped again, forcing him to move with you. You reached for him again after you both landed and led him into traffic.

The sirens blared behind you, threatening and echoing throughout the tunnel. James gripped your hand a little tighter as you two ran. You wondered if he was scared, maybe scared of getting caught. Maybe scared of losing you again. Regardless, you kept pace with him and refused to let go.

“We’re doing great.” You panted as you dodged vehicles, desperately trying to make an escape. “This is fun. One hell of a second date, yeah?”

You forgot you were supposed to be Nightmare and cursed yourself slightly. It had only been a year but evidently the persona you had so carefully fabricated around James was already forgotten. You snuck a peek at his expression but saw no change, and you breathed a small sigh of relief.

James commandeered a civilian’s motorcycle, pausing for you to join him. He didn’t say anything about your comment so you hoped he didn’t hear it. You jumped on behind him, both arms wrapping around his waist. With your arms around him, you fit your other glove back to your hand despite it still being relatively slick with your own blood.

You peaked behind to see the black SUV quickly approaching, the Black Panther on top of it. You quickly spun your body and flattened one palm between your legs to apply the suction to the seat, using the other to catch him by his throat when he jumped for you two.

He managed to flip himself over you and pull the bike to its side. With a yelp, you had to maneuver your legs quickly to place yourself in a crouch on the upright side, letting go of his throat to utilize your other glove’s suction. James used his metal arm to catch the bike and push you two back upright once you were able to kick the cat-themed man away.

Sitting back where you originally were, you released both suctions and used one hand to hold on to James, the other went for your belt. You grabbed one of your explosives and threw it to the edge of the tunnel above you. It went off as soon as you passed it and you allowed yourself to believe you had made the escape.

Something knocked out the back tire and you both went rolling across the road. You closed your eyes as your body traveled across the road aggressively, rocks digging into your wounds and leaving a trail across the pavement. Both were now bleeding again and you could feel it slowly soaking your shirt. You made a small exclamation of pain and annoyance as you felt the warm liquid soaking your shirt so the fabric now stuck to you. The grunts and groans of the guys fighting was the only thing that told you that the explosion didn’t help. You slipped one of your electrical charges into the waistband of your pants once you saw the officers blocking your escape route. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t be able to get to your belt as a whole later.

James helped you to your feet as the sirens approached. He opened his mouth to ask a question but you patted his chest before he could speak. You nodded slightly, smiling softly under your mask, hoping to signal it would be okay. You knew it probably wouldn’t but you weren’t going to tell him that.

After all, lying was your strong suit.

You two held eye contact longer than you probably should’ve and you saw it. You saw the recognition flash behind his eyes. You felt a slight dizzy feeling in your head and you wobbled on your two feet. You allowed yourself to fall into James while your assumption of what he noticed floated about your brain.

You think I’ll ever forget how those eyes look at me?

“Congratulations, Cap.” A new voice said. Looking over James’ shoulder, you saw War Machine, Tony Stark’s buddy. “You’re a criminal.”

You were roughly pulled away from James and forced to your knees while your arms were yanked behind your back. You let out a small groan when the officer’s hand closed around the slice from the Panther’s claws and you instinctively tried to pull away. Another officer knelt in front of you and eyed you carefully. You glared back in response but said nothing as the officer behind you yanked your hood back.

The hand of the officer in front of you reached forward and attempted to pull your mask off. The magnets didn’t waiver so your head went forward with it. He placed a hand on your forehead to keep your head steady while he tried to pry it off again. You turned your head away to hide your expression of annoyance - and mild pain - and caught a glimpse of James, who had been forced to his stomach. You were only left on your knees because they wanted to see who was under the mask.

“Я в порядке.” You nodded, trying to gather your composure for your lie. “Просто царапина.” (I’m alright… Just a scratch.)

“Много крови за «просто царапину».” He replied in accusation. (A lot of blood for “just a scratch”.)

“Я вернулся с худшим.” You winked playfully as you were hauled to your feet once the cuffs were in place. (I’ve come back with worse.)

“А как насчет этой крови? На твоей рубашке.” He nodded to the slice on your side. (What about that blood? On your shirt.)

“Ах, я не беспокоюсь об этом. Я так тебя искал…” You lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Ты знаешь, что я бы сделал это снова.” (Ah, I’m not worried about it. I was looking out for you so… You know I'd do it again.)

You and James were both shoved into single occupancy glass boxes. Thick metal restraints crossed your wrists and heavy metal crossed over your chest. You felt like you were on display, an exhibit for all to see. The infamous Nightmare, finally caught by the government. You felt yourself growing weak from the blood loss, but you knew your healing would take care of you soon and it wouldn’t hurt for much longer.

The ride was long and no one said a word. You were tempted to allow yourself to give in to the heavy feeling in your eyelids, but every time your head bobbed, you caught from the corner of your eye, James shifted anxiously in his seat. So, you fought through it and stayed awake. Instead, you rested your head back and stared at the roof of the truck. You were tempted to talk to James but there was nothing you could think to say.

You finally reached your destination, pausing in an unloading area long enough to see Sam, Steve, and Prince T’Challa talking with a small group. You pieced together that T’Challa was the Black Panther. When you thought about it, it made sense. He attacked you two because you were supposedly at fault for his father’s death. You offered a limited wave to Steve from under your restraints. He sighed with a suppressed smile and gave you a small wave in return.

You had to wonder… Did he already know? Why would he seem amused that you acknowledged him if he didn’t know? You let a small chuckle of disbelief when you realized just how likely it was that he figured it out. He was already hinting at it during the Ultron situation and you had your suspicions earlier in James’ apartment.

The room they brought you two into was dark for the most part. A worker busied himself behind you with cables until the small cases you were in lit up.

“This is much better.” You mocked. “Thanks. Very homey.”

They ignored you, like almost everyone else did. No one said a word to either of you until the supposed psychiatrist entered the room. Though, he didn’t strike you as a doctor.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes.” He greeted. “Miss Nightmare.. I’ve been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you. Do you mind if I sit?”

“Actually, I wanted to sit there.” You rolled your eyes. “We can’t exactly stop you, can we?”

“Of course.” He nodded as he sat. “Your first name is James?” He asked him. You turned and kept your attention on James for a moment. He looked to you with uncertainty in his eyes and all you could offer was a shrug, attempting to tell him that you didn’t know what to do either. When James didn’t answer, the doctor kept going. “I’m not here to judge you, either of you. I just want to ask you a few questions… Do you know where you are, James?”

Silence.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.”

“My name is Bucky.” James countered, drawing a proud smirk from you.

“No one told us anything.” You almost laughed. “We don’t know where we are because we were given the silent treatment. We’re criminals, remember? Officers don’t treat criminals with respect.”

“Miss Nightmare..” You turned to face him. “You do have a legal name, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask what it is?”

“You can ask but I won’t tell you. And it won’t mean anything to you anyway.” That time you did laugh. “He doesn’t even know and he was my partner.”

“And why is that? Does it relate to your reason for the mask? It’s a safe place here… You can take it off.”

“I couldn’t take it off if I wanted to with my hands locked up like this.” You pulled your wrist to emphasize your point before you paused, noting the way he was looking between you two and his tablet. For someone who claimed he would help you two, he sure was distracted.

“What is it that you want to hear, Doctor?” You challenged plainly to draw his attention back to you. He looked over at you with brows raised in interest. “You want me to admit to some sort of mania? Some sort of dissociative identity condition? You want to hear how we can bring the devil to his knees or that I wiped all of their blood away with a smile? No, because that’s not what happened to either of us. We were manipulated and made into something we’re not.”

“Something you’re not?” He repeated. “So you’re not the most dangerous thing HYDRA ever created? You’re not the ‘one from the shadows that never misses’? And the story is that’s who you were before your enhancements. I can see the devil in your eyes, miss Nightmare.”

You scoffed. “Of course that bullshit rumor is all you know. You’re a real shitty shrink, yknow that?”

“Tell me, Bucky.” His attention shifted. You hated the way it sounded to hear him use James’ nickname. “You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” James said simply.

“You feel that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop… Don’t worry. We only need to talk about one.”

“We don’t need to talk about any.” You challenged, pulling against your restraints again. The metal creaked but didn’t give.

As you said that, the power went out, but you knew it wasn’t your fault. Your mind began racing. Admittedly, you were scared. This doctor had an ulterior motive. And you were at his mercy. The way he looked at you two, like you were new toys… It made your skin crawl.

“James?”

“What the hell is this?” James asked, surveying the room. His eyes lingered on yours, and you knew yours betrayed the panic you felt.

“Why don’t we discuss your home?” The doctor continued. “Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn. No, I mean your real home.”

You saw him pull the red notebook from his bag. An old HYDRA notebook. Last you saw it was in Siberia, and not only did it have the words to unlock the Winter Solider, but it had the words to trigger the real Nightmare. How did he have it?

“Where did you get that?” You asked quickly, panicked. “Answer me, goddammit!”

“Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать.” He read from the book, pacing around James’ cell.

“Don’t do this to him.” You begged. “Please! I- I’ll tell you whatever you want to know! I’ll do whatever you want! Don’t do this!”

There was nothing you could do and it made you sick. You watched helplessly as James tried to resist, but it was no use. This man was going to bring out the Winter Soldier, which only meant you would be next. You desperately pulled against the restraints, hearing the metal creak and groan, but not quite breaking. You tried to kick out the front, but your legs didn’t reach.

“Leave him out of this!” You screamed, a desperate crack in your voice.

“Рассвет, Печь, Девять, Добросердечный, Возвращение на родину, Один, Товарный вагон.” He finished and James broke free of his containment. “Солдат?"

"Я жду приказаний.” James answered.

Both of their attention turned to you. You suddenly felt very small and very powerless.

“Get hers open.” He nodded to you before turning to a different page in the book.

“Solo, perfeccionado.” He began while James slammed his metal fist against the door. You closed your eyes tightly, willing yourself to shut out his words. You banged your head on the headrest behind you repeatedly while you muttered a desperate ‘no no no no no’ to yourself, hoping to make it stop. “Trece, sombras, enigma, dos.”

“Stop!” You screamed, a last ditch effort of an attempt to help yourself. But it was too late. You had only been free for a year.

You felt the familiar pressure in your head, forcing your free will to shut down. The sharp sensation that began deep in your brain and spread, seemingly expanding your brain to the edge of your skull until it would pop like a balloon and be replaced with something else.

“Please.” You mumbled sadly. You had nothing left in you to fight.

You let out one scream of pain, one scream that took everything you had. It was a scream of frustration too, anger at being powerless. Of being at someone else’s mercy, again. It was a scream that you hoped was heard throughout the building and you hoped some part of James - not the Winter Soldier - heard it.

“Servicial, aventurera, uno, pesadilla.” He finished.

When your eyes opened, Y/N was no longer in charge. The pain was gone. Instead, you felt nothing.

“It’s been a while.” You smirked deviously as the Winter Soldier broke the restraints on your wrists.

You slipped your fingers under the waistband of your pants and grabbed the electrical charge you stashed before you were arrested since you had been stripped of your belt, placing it on the restraint across your chest. You smashed a fist against it and felt a small shock through your palm. You shook it off and lifted the restraint and stepped out from under it.

“Mission report.” The man said, standing in front of you both. “December 16, 1991.”

“You want to know about Siberia? The Stark mission.” You checked, squinting your eyes suspiciously. You glanced at James for confirmation but he wasn’t looking at you. “An odd request to know about the Serum acquisition...”

“Mission rep-“ He tried again.

Your partner cut in and went through the report. Even though you knew what happened, you weren’t there so you had nothing to report. Instead, you examined the slice on your arm and the wound on your side. Of course Y/N would be careless enough to hurt herself. You winced as you pressed on the tender skin around the open gashes before your attention was pulled back.

“I want you both to get to Siberia and don’t let anyone stop you.” He said. “But first, make it look like you broke out.”

“I was hoping I’d get a chance to do this.” You said honestly before throwing a sharp left hook that knocked him to the floor. “Something tells me you deserved that.”

You and your partner left the room and easily handled the guards. You found your belt, cloak, and thigh holster waiting for you so you fitted everything back into place just in time for the incoming footsteps. You knelt down while the Winter Soldier pressed his back flat against the wall and waited.

You threw a quick elbow to the man’s stomach, which made him double over. He leaned right into your partner’s hand so he was flung into the next room by his face. Steve came at you two quickly but you ducked his swing.

You and your partner moved into an aggressive offensive barrage. You kept applying more and more pressure until you were able to back him against the elevator. Steve caught your partner’s fist and started pushing him back. You took a few steps back before running in.

You ran in and ducked your partner’s arm, slamming your shoulder into Steve’s stomach and sending him through the elevator doors. You turned on your toes and reached for the Winter Soldier. He just barely caught your hand and pulled you back to flat ground. You nodded in thanks before heading to leave.

You two had practically gotten to the lobby with almost no issues. It was easy enough to handle the guards. The Widow and her friend put up a good fight, but it wasn’t that hard to knock the blonde on her ass. When she spun into a high hook kick, you grabbed her ankle and flipped her over your shoulder and through a nearby table. You pressed your knee against her throat, slowly applying more pressure as she coughed and wheezed and clawed at your leg. You watched as her eyes began to flutter and her resistance faded.

Meanwhile, your partner handled the Widow fairly easily.

The issues didn’t come until the Wakandan Prince wanted to go another round. After a fairly even match, he kicked your partner over a railing and to the ground floor.

You quickly jumped over after him and followed his lead out the building. He took you to the landing pad on the side of the building where a helicopter was waiting. He got into the pilot’s seat and you stood in the open space behind him. You two had nearly gotten away until Captain America was single-handedly holding the chopper in place.

“What are you waiting for?” You asked from behind him. “Go for it.”

He hesitated, only slightly but enough that you noticed. You rolled your eyes before leaning over his shoulder and forcing his hand, driving the helicopter towards Steve. The collision sent the helicopter into a spiral on the concrete landing pad, but it teetered dangerously close to a free fall towards the water. You regretted your decision to stand when you were thrown about the cabin during the spin. You wondered in the back of your mind if your mask would hold up if you went down, but something told you it wouldn’t and you couldn’t take off your mask with the Captain there. That would be a problem.

The Winter Soldier reached his metal hand through the front glass and caught the Captain by his throat, pulling him into the fall with you. You quickly used the suction palms of your gloves to secure yourself as best you could. You heard a loud thud followed by a groan so you looked over to see he had gone unconscious.

Once you hit the water, you released the suction and moved to free him. The Captain was there to help, and though everything told you to kill him then and there, you let him because you knew he would help your partner. And Captain Rogers wasn’t your mission today.

However, you learned the hard way that water could definitely get under your mask. You realized that the shock that went through your palm earlier had disabled the sensors when you turned away to remove it. Your mask wasn’t coming off.

While the Captain dragged your partner out of the water, you felt the liquid creeping into your lungs.

You couldn’t breathe. The pressure of holding your breath was building in your head and in your chest. You wouldn’t last much longer.

You tried to swim to the surface but you didn’t have the strength to make it. Instead, you fell unconscious and began sinking lower and lower.

The next time you opened your eyes, you felt a heavy pounding in your head. You coughed violently, still feeling the water in your lungs and realized your mask was still on. You looked around and saw James with his arm in a vice. Your own hands were cuffed behind your back and around a heavy pipe. You saw your stained red gloves on the ground beside you in a puddle of water and blood and you felt the soft gauze on your side and forearm. You had to wonder who took the time to dress your wounds.

“James?” You tried hoarsely. He turned his head in your direction while you cleared your throat. You tried to shake the loose wet hair from your face but they clung to your forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” He asked instead.

“I’m myself, if that’s what you’re asking…” You said with a relieved sigh though your lungs burned with every breath. “Nothing worse than before. Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“You busted your face on a helicopter windshield.” You emphasized. “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine.” He insisted.

“Hey Cap!” Sam called before entering, Steve quickly behind him.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asked. You tilted your head in acknowledgment, thinking it was a fair question to ask. You two did just attempt to kill him with a helicopter.

“Your mom’s name was Sarah.” He answered. “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.” He chuckled lightly. You couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he could remember some of his life.

“Can’t read that in a museum.”

“Just like that we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam asked, in slight disbelief.

“What about you?” Steve said, taking a couple steps closer to you.

“I can’t tell you any real personal stories like he did.” You admitted. “But I can tell you this… When you came looking for him in Azanno, I led you right to him. I told you that I never wanted him to get hurt, but you couldn’t tell anyone because no one would believe you. Because Nightmare doesn’t do the right thing.”

“But the girl underneath it does.” You and Steve said at the same time. Part of you wondered how he remembered exactly what you had said - Had he thought about that interaction often? - but it seemed like it was enough for him to relax some distrust.

“Maybe it’s time you told us who the girl underneath it is.” Sam tried.

“They’d hate me.” You said sadly. “Please understand. It’s just not the right time.. I’m sorry.”

“What did we do?” James asked to change the subject. You were sure he wanted to know the same thing, to know who he had spent decades beside, but he likely heard the sadness of your voice. He wanted to know but he wanted it to be your choice to tell him.

“Enough.” Steve said simply.

“I knew this would happen.” James sighed heavily. “Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

“I didn’t know they did it that way to her, too.”

“Yeah, Y/N was pretty vague on that.” Sam added.

“What?” James asked, genuinely shocked. He tried turning to face you but couldn’t. You didn’t know if the surprise was due to hearing that Y/N was alive or that HYDRA would do to you what they did to him. “You guys talked to Y/N? She’s still alive?”

There was a breath of relief in his voice and you felt your heart twist. He was happy to know you’re still around and you were literally a few feet away from him. You had been beside him for decades and he never knew. You couldn’t help but feel guilty. It never clicked in your head that he would’ve believed Y/N to be dead.

“Well, they didn’t… Not exactly.” You explained carefully when you saw Steve and Sam were looking at you expectantly.

“You’d better get exact.” Steve warned. “Because we don’t have time for games anymore.”

“I came from scientists, white men who played God.” You began. “They did complex physiological experiments in the name of public good. They taught me everything, just like they taught my parents. I was like their first born, HYDRA’s cut-throat dream. Born, bred, and raised to kick your ass. And I was good at it, the best HYDRA had, really.”

“I made a point to be good at it because I wanted to do something great like you.” You nodded towards Steve. “And the real tragedy is only half of it was true… I wanted to represent something bigger than myself and I had nothing else. So I became the weapon HYDRA needed. I became that symbol.”

“And you didn’t care about what you did.” Steve continued.

“No, I didn’t. I had no light at the end of my tunnel, but once they brought him in, I realized how wrong everything about them really was. James was innocent and shouldn’t have been involved... Anyway, I started acting out more than I usually would. Subtle comments, threats, and small acts of defiance. I got away with it too until the 90’s. I was restationed in Ohio and that’s where they did it.”

“What did they do to you?” James said sadly.

“HYDRA was working on something to go in conjunction with the Winter Soldier program, something to completely shut down free will. They were working on studying and taking apart the basal ganglia which does procedural learning and voluntary motor control… What James went through was more psychological conditioning and physical torture. What I went through was a beta version of complete chemical subjection. I was always fully conscious and I knew what I was doing and I was doing it with intent but it was like two different sides. Even now the line that separates me from her gets blurred every time we switch and I-” Your voice wavered. You had never admitted what you were about to say, never out loud at least. “I’m not always sure which side is really me and which side HYDRA made...”

“I’m sorry..” Steve offered. You knew it was genuine but you didn’t want pity. “But I don’t think you would be here if you were more Nightmare than yourself.”

“I doubt it’ll matter in the long run…” You shrugged and leaned your head against the wall behind you. “Lucky for me, it was still in early development and the facility was burned to ash before its completion. And before you ask, the organization that did it hasn’t been able to be tracked down in years. It’s quite literally the most covert operation and there’s rumors it’s not active anymore.”

You thought momentarily about the Red Room and the rumors that Natasha had killed Dreykov. Though those rumors were quickly silenced when the Widows were still being used, unintentionally competing with you and James for most lethal assassins in rotation.

“Anyway since it wasn’t perfect, it’s not constantly active so I can be in control more often than not. But like James, there’s a set of words that triggers the version of Nightmare they always wanted. It’s like a Pavlovian response and only a hard reset of my head will get me back to normal in that moment, otherwise I just have to wait until everything balances out. Sometimes it’s days, sometimes longer..” You finished.

“A hard reset?” Sam asked.

“Knocked unconscious, pretty much.” You shrugged. “It shuts down my conscious mind and that voluntary free will center is allowed to re-regulate. Putting Nightmare in the backseat and me in the driver’s… This time it was nearly drowning. Last time, Cap choked me. A really hard hit to the head would probably do it too.”

“Who was he?” Steve asked, looking more to you. “The doctor.”

“Never seen him before.” You answered simply. “But he knew a hell of a lot more than he should’ve about us.”

“People are dead.. The bombing, the set up.” Steve urged. “He did all that just for ten minutes with you guys. I need better than that.”

“He wanted to know about Siberia.” James added. “Where I was kept… He wanted to know exactly where.”

“God, that base was probably the worst one we had.” You commented.

“Why would he need to know that?” Steve asked urgently.

“James wasn’t supposed to be the only Winter Soldier.” You explained. “Can you-“ You shook the cuffs behind you. “Please?”

Sam sighed and moved over to release your hands. Steve loosened the vice and freed James’ arm. You nodded in thanks and moved across the floor to sit closer to James after wringing out your gloves and bringing them with you. While you spoke again, James had taken your arm to look over the wound dressing.

“Who were they?” Steve asked.

“HYDRA’s elite death squad.” You said, turning your attention to him.

You remembered that group very clearly. Strong and aggressive, but out of control. They reveled in their newfound strength and thought themselves invincible. Though you had put their top prospect in his place, you knew HYDRA wouldn’t shut it down based on that.

“As a group, second most kills in HYDRA history and that was before the serum.” You continued. “Second only to me and that’s just counting my individual assignments.”

“They all turn out like him?” Sam nodded towards James.

“Worse.” He said simply.

“Can the doctor control them?” Steve asked.

“Enough, maybe. But not perfectly.”

“He said he wanted to see an empire fall.”

“With them, he could probably do it.” You nodded. “30 languages, can hide in plain sight. Infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. That’s their whole M.O.”

“They can take down a whole country and you’d never see them coming.” James agreed.

Sam moved closer to whisper to Steve but your mind was still putting the pieces together. He didn’t strike you as a man who wanted to rule. James moved to sit on a crate so you put yourself on the ground between his legs, leaning your back against his leg.

“What empire?” You questioned quietly, thinking back to what Steve said. You looked up at James and saw he was already looking at you. “What empire does he want to fall?”

“Does it matter?” He asked simply.

“It’d give us a better chance, no? If we can figure out where he’s going after Siberia, we can beat him there.”

He didn’t answer. You noticed the blood on his head from when he was knocked out in the helicopter. You frowned slightly and reached to wipe it away. To your surprise, he leaned slightly into your touch.

“I hate when you hurt.” You mumbled, more to yourself than him. “Always have… Cause your dumbass thinks you’re some badass and always tries to protect me.”

“Coming from the one who got hurt more?” He joked lightly and pointed to your wrapped side. “Who’s really the dumbass?”

“Ha ha.” You said sarcastically, drawing a small smile from him. “It’s not my fault it got the one spot that’s not protected.” You defended. “I can handle myself and you know that, James.”

Oddly enough, it didn’t feel like Nightmare and James. It felt like Y/N and James, the way it should be. And you knew that’s what it was, but he didn’t. But he was so comfortable around Nightmare… Maybe it would be okay if you told him…

“I know.” He nodded with a small smile. “What about this?” He tapped your forearm.

“How am I supposed to defend against Vibranium?” You chuckled.

“By not jumping in front of every bullet meant for me?”

“Not gonna happen, Soldier.” You shook your head fondly. “You should know that by now.”

“I didn’t know.” He said gently, reaching for the hand closest to him. You scrunched your eyebrows in question. “I didn’t know you really didn’t have a choice..”

“You just thought I wanted to be a trained killer?” You challenged lightly. “It’s fine… It wasn’t until later so I guess I kinda did.” You reasoned as you looked down at the floor.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I usually just did what I was told to make things easier. HYDRA was all I knew, like a mouse born in a cage. I could only run on the little wheel… Mom and Dad were there and were killed, so I worked hard to be the best because I wanted to honor their legacy. HYDRA saw an opportunity in that and raised an elite spy and then weaponized me…”

You paused to look back at James and found his eyes were already on you. He was listening very intently to your backstory and you felt a comfort in your chest to get it out there, to have someone truly listen to what happened. And even though it was the mask telling the story, you were glad you could finally tell him. It’d be one less thing to explain later.

“When they brought you in, your friend Y/N asked me to look out for you when she couldn’t because HYDRA never let her get too close. I always did because she was the only person there that still had a heart and it just became habitual after a while. I wanted to look out for you. I guess in some twisted way I kinda thought of us as friends after all.”

“I know you tried to help me. It wasn’t your fault, Nightmare.”

“That’s not my name.” You whispered sadly.

“So tell me.”

“I don’t think you’d like me very much if I did.”

“You really think that would happen?”

“It’s just not a risk I can take right now. I’m sorry.”

“There’s something familiar about your eyes.” He admitted. “It’s like… Something I should know.”

“But you don’t remember why?”

“Not yet.”

“Then my secret’s safe for a little while longer.” You squeezed his hand gently before Steve and Sam came back to you.

Later that day, you and James were cramped in the backseat of a small Volkswagen. Sam sat in the front while Steve drove. He stopped off to meet with the blonde agent from before, the one you threw through a table.

“Can you move your seat up?” James asked Sam.

“No.” Sam said firmly.

You chuckled lightly as James slid over to the center. You crawled over his lap to switch seats before leaning forward to talk to Sam.

“Who is she?” You asked. “I kinda almost killed her.”

“Sharon Carter.” He answered simply.

“Carter? Like- Like Peggy Carter?”

“Yeah, that’s her niece.”

“Hmm.” You nodded. “A bit odd, don’t you think?”

“He likes her.” Sam said with a shrug. “Let him be happy.”

“I never said he couldn’t be.” You added defensively as you dropped back into your seat.

You crossed your arms in annoyance and leaned your head back. You felt a tap on your leg and looked to see James looking at you. You raised your brows and he smiled slightly, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes, though you were smiling too.

You did want Steve to be happy. You wanted to be happy too. And with James, you were. You just couldn’t stop thinking that once you told him the truth, you wouldn’t be.

You’d only have your memories. That night before he left, the sound of his laugh. The way he kissed your cheek tentatively. You’d have the letters, safely tucked away at home. But you wouldn’t have James.

You all ended up at the airport and met up with the Maximoff twins, Clint Barton, and a man you later learned to be Scott Lang.

“Good to see you two made it out.” You told the twins. “I heard about what Strucker did with the Scepter and how many didn’t make it..”

“You’re…” Pietro breathed. “Holy shit. I thought you were made up.” He smiled in awe while Wanda eyed you with interest. You thought you saw red swirls around her fingers but figured it was just a trick of the light.

“Yeah.” You nodded, not sure if you should be embarrassed or not. “Nightmare… But I’m not as scary as the stories. Not always.”

“What timezone is this?” Scott said as he got out the van. “Wow, Captain America! I’m shaking your hand too long.”

He turned to the twins.

“I know you guys too.” He smiled. “You’re great.”

He looked over at you. “And I’ve heard about you. You’re terrifying.”

“Yup.” You nodded. “Get that a lot.”

“They tell you what we’re up against?” Steve asked.

“Something about some.. psycho-assassins?” Scott answered.

“We’re outside the law on this one. You come with us, you’re a wanted man.”

“You didn’t bring Y/N?” Wanda asked suddenly. Your head turned to her quickly and you cursed yourself. You forgot she could read minds and she was already looking at you. “She fought with us against Ultron. Why isn’t she here?”

It definitely wasn’t a trick of the light.

“She’s tired of fighting.” Steve explained. “I told her to stay away from this and focus on something else.”

“Are you sure she listened?” Wanda teased, raising a brow to you.

“Y/N is a smart girl.” You cut in, shooting Wanda a warning look. “She trusts the Captain. I bet she listened.”

“And what about you?” She countered easily.

“Don’t do this.” You tried, close to pleading.

“If you don’t tell them, I will.”

“I am going to tell them. If you looked deep enough, you would’ve seen why I haven’t. You think they would trust me if they knew?”

“Show me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll keep your secret.”

“Wanda?” Her brother tried.

“It’s fine.” You sighed and came around the car to stand beside Wanda. “For the record, this hostility is why I didn’t say anything to everyone else.”

She placed her fingers by your temple so you closed your eyes. The first thing that showed behind your closed lids was the night you first met James, his smile and his laugh.

“I thought you hadn’t danced in a while.” James teases with a wide smile as he lifts your hand above your head to spin you.

You giggled in surprise before you came to face him again. “What can I say? I guess I’m naturally light on my feet.” You shrugged.

“You keep talkin’ like that, I’m gonna fall in love with you.”

“Is that a promise, Sergeant Barnes?” You winked.

“Y’know, Y/N Barnes has a nice ring to it.” He tried with a cheeky smile.

“You wanna give me a ring already?” You smiled widely. “I need at least three dates before I consider wedding proposals.”

“I’d take you on a hundred dates if that’s what it took.”

Then you saw when you helped Steve get him out of Azanno.

Next, he fell off the train.

You trained him.

You were in that lonely yellow room. Your brain chemistry was altered. You screamed at God and cursed the skies.

You stood up to Pierce.

“Oh my god.” She whispered.

The images stopped so you opened your eyes.

“Do you get it now?” You asked sadly. “They were all I had to hold on to..”

“I won’t say anything.” She nodded, gently squeezing your hand in reassurance.

“Thank you, Wanda.” You smiled softly beneath your mask. “I promise I’m going to tell them.”

“I know you will.”

The announcement over the P.A. system halted all conversation. You listened to the German words before groaning in annoyance. This just got a lot harder.

“Evacuation orders.” You explained.

“Stark.” Sam sighed.

“Stark?” Lang asked.

“Suit up.” Steve instructed.

116 notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 3 years

Text

So This Is Love: Part 2

Fandom: Marvel (College AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Your friend and roommate, Bucky, is a bit of an annoying fuckboy. He sleeps around as well as tries to be as annoying to you as possible. But here’s the thing: you don’t mind any of it.

Warning: mentions of sex

A/N: shoutout to @solarsystembitch for the wonderful idea!!

A/N 2: NO TAGLIST WILL BE AVAILABLE FOR THIS SERIES.

Series Masterlist

You don't understand how Bucky has time to date and sleep with all of these different girls. Like you, he's a full time student, with a part time job. You barely have time to sleep, let alone date and have sex. But whatever floats his boat.

It's midnight and him and the girl he brought home are still going at it. Sheesh. They have great stamina, you think.

You go to the kitchen and grab yourself a glass of water. You then pull out a few water bottles from the fridge and some protein bars. You then get a sticky note scribbling onto it. Making your way back to the hallway, you stop at Bucky's door, leaving the water bottles and protein bars on the floor along with the note. You don't knock on the door, not wanting to interrupt. So you just leave it at that and go back to your room to study.

___________________

Annette rolls off Bucky and plops onto the bed. He sits up with a groan and wipes the sweat off his forehead with his discarded shirt, "I'm gonna get some water. Want some?"

"Yeah," Annette responds in a raspy voice. Bucky then pulls on his boxers, smirking to himself at how fucked out Annette looked. When he opened his door, he knocked something over. He looked down to see water bottles and protein bars on the floor. On one of the bottles, there was a sticky note with your hand writing on it.

Bucky's smirk grew, wondering if he finally got on your nerves. But when he looked at the note, it was the opposite:

Here's some water and snacks for you and your guest. PLEASE don't stay up too late. You have that test tomorrow. Good night. :)

He bit his lip and held the note to his chest. Why are you so fucking....sweet?

"Buck, what's going on?" Annette asks from his bed.

He picks up the items and turns around, closing the door, "My, uh, roommate, she left these for us."

Annette's eyes widened, "Oh! Really? That's...nice of her. I hope we weren't too loud."

He shrugs, "It's fine. She deals with it. Anyway," he tosses her a bottle and bar, "power up, sweetheart. I'm not done with you yet."

_____________

You wake up to your phone's alarm blaring and you groan. With eyes still closed, you reach over, grabbing your phone and turning it off.

When you rub your eyes and open them, you see Bucky laying beside you, fully awake and topless. He grins and says, "Mornin', Peaches."

You roll over and out of bed and just murmur, "Why?"

Still grinning, Bucky sits up in your bed, "I wanted to watch you sleep."

You snort as you look through your closet for what to wear for today, "Easy there, Edward Cullen."

Bucky then rushes up behind you, pressing his bare chest against your back, hands on your waist. He leans in and whispers an Edward quote in your ear, "I'm the world's most dangerous predator, Peaches. Every thing about me invites you in. My voice, my face, even my smell."

You roll your eyes and move out of his hold, "You smell like you didn't take a shower after sex. Again."

"I may or may not have touched myself watching you sleep," he says as he plops onto your bed, a mischievous look on his face.

You glare at him for a few seconds and then respond, "That's a disgusting thought, but I know you're lying."

"How so?"

"You respect me too much to do that," you answer plainfuly, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"You sure 'bout that?" he asks as he not so subtly rakes his eyes over your body.

You nod, "Yup. Now you have," you look at your clock, "Thirty minutes before your class starts. So you better leave if you want a good parking spot." you then take your clothes and head into the bathroom to take a shower and change.

Bucky lays in your bed for a moment and sighs. He allows himself to enjoy the scent of you wafting around him for a minute or two. Then he stands with a grunt, scratching at his belly and making his way out of your room.

_____________

When you emerge from your room, you head to the kitchen to find breakfast already laid out for you. A sticky note beside it reads:

Peaches,

Good luck on your presentation. I know you'll ace it.

-B.

You didn't want to read too much into this gesture. It's...unlike Bucky. He tends to take and take, and hardly ever gives. So something like this is rare and it makes you think, "What is he up to?"

#bucky barnes #chubby!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel au #marvel #au #bucky barnes imagine #fem!reader #female!reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Yours, Mine, and Ours [7] Finale

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, violence, general sadness and shittiness.

This is dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You must face change.

Author Notes: I got another old series tied up and I’m editing the last chapter of another one as well. I’m trying to clear some stuff out as best I can.

A special thank you to everyone who reached out to me over the last few days. And extra thanks to @lokislastlove for always encouraging me.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

Masterlist

Bucky knelt beside you as your ass throbbed in pain and your head thrummed. He touched your arm gently with his metal hand, his other on your cheek as he cradled your face. You met his blue eyes but he quickly lifted his head and glared across the room.

“Don’t fucking move or I’ll hit you again. Harder.” His snarl was so harsh and deep, it made you shiver. He turned his attention back to you as he helped you roll over and sit up, “Are you okay? Careful…” he backed off the bed slowly as he guided you to the end of the mattress.

You clung to him and glanced over at Steve as he spat blood onto the floor. His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared as he looked back but he made no move towards you, his head lolling just slightly as he sat straight.

You let Bucky usher you to the door as he turned back and searched around the floor. He huffed and took off his jacket instead, draping it over your shoulders.

He pointed you through the door and followed, snatched the throw from the back of the couch and offered it as he urged you on. You found your purse where you dropped it and stopped to grab it, groaning at how your body ached. You continued to the door as he opened it and followed you out.

You were silent as you descended, cloaked in his jacket and the thin blanket. You came around the building and neared your car. He kept away from you but hovered as if you might keel over.

“I can’t drive,” you let your purse dangle weakly from your hand.

“I’ll take you back,” he said softly, “and then you don’t have to see me ever again.”

You nodded and rounded his car. You opened the door and slumped into the seat, your purse on your lap as you hung your head. It was over. You knew it was. You thought there would be a way to hold onto Steve, to find the man he had been, but he assured you that that Steve was gone. Everything you had was lost.

The engine turned and you barely noticed the blur of the city as it passed outside the windows. You fought against the wave of grief that swept over you and leaned your head back.

“You said I’ll never see you again,” you croaked, “but you saved me.”

“So? I did all those other things too,” he gripped the wheel and sniffed, “I’ll keep my distance. I started all this. I never should’ve-- I’m fucked. I try to act like I’m not but I am.”

“Bucky…” you said weakly.

“Don’t. I know it’s the truth and I know everything that happened to you is because of me. Steve’s an asshole. I don’t know what changed in him, but I’m worse,” he sighed, “I’m gonna resign. I’m gonna… look into rehab or therapy, whatever they got for me. I can’t stay near you or Steve. I can’t do any of it.”

You nodded and rubbed your hands together. Your body hurt but your soul hurt worse.

“No, I’m going,” you said, “I’m leaving. I’m not a hero like you or Steve. I don’t matter. And I can’t stay with him. I can’t even stay close because I know he won’t stay away. Right now, he’s getting up off that floor and you can’t tell me he’s not coming after us right now.”

Your voice cracked and you muffled it with a corner of the blanket. You hunched over as suddenly you felt nauseous and you held in a retch. Your body shook but you kept the sickness in and murmured.

“Please, just get me back,” you begged.

“I will,” he vowed, “I’ll make sure you get out and I’ll make sure he doesn’t stop you,” you heard him gulp between his words, “and after, if you ever need me to knock him on his ass again, I’ll be there. No strings, no expectations, we don’t even need to talk.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the door, watching the pedestrians and other cars. You could only think of everything that needed to be done; grab what you can, email Tony, go back and get your car and drive without stopping.

“Shit,” you sat up as you neared the compound, “I forgot my phone.”

“Good,” Bucky said, “he’s tracking it. Get a new one.”

👥

Bucky closed the yellow taxi door and watched the cab pull out into the swell of New York traffic. She’d packed the remnants of her former life in a single backpack but he could see, she didn’t even need that. He backed away from the curb and tucked his hands into his pockets. His chest was tight and heavy. He was guilty but he didn’t feel sorry for himself. He felt sorry for her.

He was almost thrown off his feet as a hand gripped his arm and swung him around. Steve was white with anger as a vein popped out in his forehead. His lip was split and his nose bruised from Bucky’s fist. The men faced each other in mutual detest. He never expected to look at his oldest friend that way and feel it so succinctly.

“Where is she?” Steve growled.

Bucky shrugged and shouldered past him, “gone. Far from us.”

Steve followed him and stopped him before he could pass through the door. He shoved him back against the façade of the building but Bucky hardly felt it. He just stood, staring at the man he didn’t know any more, and lifted a brow.

“You gonna beat it out of me?” he asked, “then you’ll have to kill me.”

Steve’s eyes searched Bucky’s and he growled under his breath, “all you had to do was follow the fucking rules.”

“I never liked those rules. I only wanted to be close to her. It was selfish. It was abuse.”

“She liked it,” Steve snapped.

“No, you told her she liked it and she loved you so much, she believed you,” Bucky’s voice turned raw, “she loved you and you threw it all away.”

“You ruined it,” Steve accused.

“Fuck you,” Bucky snarled, “you deserve to be alone.”

“I’ll find her,” Steve curled his fingers into a fist and puffed his chest, “I know exactly where she’s going. She won’t get to her car before I do.”

“No, she will,” Bucky pushed away from the wall and grabbed the front of Steve’s shirt and pinned him, “you won’t make it past me.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and his lips thinned. He gripped Bucky’s shirt in kind and the pair rolled against the wall until they stopped in a bitter stalemate. They stared each other down as their soles scuffed on the pavement and grunted almost in unison at their opponent.

“You won’t keep me from her forever,” Steve said calmly.

“She’s not the only one leaving, Steve,” Bucky hissed, “and I won’t feel bad at all when you wake up one day and realise how lonely you are.”

👥

Your new apartment was mostly empty but it was yours, unlike that seventh floor box Steve had made your cage. It was far from him, far from Bucky, far from everyone you ever knew. You knew you couldn’t hide with your parents or your sister or even those distant university friends who you knew would have your back. You had to be alone. It was your fear of that which got you into all that mess.

You didn’t see Bucky again but he did get a message to you. He left a gift for you at a safe house on your way out of the state. New identification, an unopened cell, and a wad of cash. It wasn’t atonement but it was what he could give you. You kept driving and exchanged your car at the stateline. You kept on until you felt as if you were in an entirely different country.

You took a job at the grocery store as a cashier. You remembered when you were a child and your mother had the same position. She went back to school and made you promise you’d never end up in the same boat. If she could see you now…

If you could see her.

You dropped your bag on the side table as you entered and turned the lock on the handle and the latch above, the deadbolt over that, and hooked the chain last. You clutched the pepper spray you kept up your sleeve and searched the single bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. Your paranoia was your only companion.

You kept the curtains drawn day and night, even those stolid nights when you couldn’t sleep for the thick sweat that coated your body. Those nights came more often and even during the day, you found yourself suffocated in fits of unbearable heat. And at night, you were trapped by the dreams of the past.

You sat and opened up the novel you kept on the coffee table. When you’d been with Steve, you never had much time to read between his need for attention and your work. Your relocation was freeing in more ways than one.

You laid back and wiggled, still in your stiff grocery store uniform and lost yourself in the fantasy adventure of a young warrior. It was a fight you could control; that you could win.

👥

Bucky held the position and breathed out slowly. His muscles vibrated as he strained and slowly lifted his leg, the toes of his other foot firmly planted on the mat. He turned and outstretched his arm and leg to the ceiling and inhaled. He let out another breath as he reached the next position then returned to downward-facing dog.

He pushed himself back to sit on his knees as the noise of the lapping lake reached his ears and sent a cool breeze over the dock. He pulled his legs out from under him and bent his legs as he leaned his sweaty arms over his knees. He looked out at the glistening water and listened to the noise of birds and critters.

Peace. He couldn’t call it that. Exile, more like. He didn’t trust himself to be near people. His therapist visited once a week and he attended daily video sessions with him. One of his tasks was to find hobbies and to face himself. Yoga was both of those. It cleared his hand and ate up his time.

But then he found himself wishing she was there. He knew she wasn’t in some serene lake house, she didn’t have all the support offered by SHIELD and Stark, she didn’t have anyone. He did what he could, what she would accept from him, but there was nothing he could give her in that life that would ever be enough.

Then he felt awful about those thoughts. She was never his to have.

He stood and walked up the dock and the dirt path to the house. He climbed up onto the large deck and through sliding doors. He poured himself a glass of water and added a slice of lemon. He took it with him as he went to the bedroom where he slept alone, where the shadows of trees loomed over him in the night and swayed like the wraiths of his remorse.

The white cat hopped up on the bed and twirled in expectation, in demand of his attention. He scratched Alpine’s head as he neared and got a nip when he pet him a little too long. The moody feline retreated to the corner of the bed and watched him with his pale blue eyes. The creature was his only friend now.

He took a deep gulp and sat on the edge of the bed and set the glass down. He slid open the drawer of the hand-crafted night table and dipped his fingers inside. He pulled out the pink fabric and held them in his metal hand and stroked the dainty elastic. He should get rid of them, like he had the rest, but he just couldn’t. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t. He would never forget about her.

👥

You pushed the boxes and cans over the scanner and onto the next belt so that they were carried down to the end of the counter. You smiled as you asked the usual questions and waited for the customer to punch in their pin. You waved on the next in line as the former bagged their goods and you kept the distant tune playing from the low speakers in your head.

The routine was your only comfort. It was easy. Even when you got those fussy customers, the ones with the expired coupons or the wrong flyers, it was simple work. You rang them through and saw them off without concern. Their tantrums were not the worst you’d faced in your time.

When it was your time to clock out, you stopped by the café in the same plaza as the grocery store and ordered a tall iced tea. You came out with your purse on the arm that hid the pepper spray and made your way to the end of the pavement and around the corner to the street.

At the first corner, you turned off onto a small side street then cut through to the park and passed the memorials and statues set along the winding path. It was a longer walk than your normal route but you took it once a week. You liked to watch the ducks but you had to avoid the geese.

You sipped from your straw and smiled at a dog as he passed with his owner and looked over at the kids laughing on the monkey bars. Your uniform tented in the heat of the summer sun but you pressed on, refreshed by the fruity tea.

When you emerged from the park, the grit of the small town returned. The chipped bricks of your building rose above you and you unlocked the front door after a struggle with the ancient keyhole. The door closed heavily behind you and you headed up the dingy stairs.

As you got to your apartment, you went through the usual to-do; lock, search, and settle in. Two months, maybe three, it felt so long ago and yet it felt like only yesterday. You couldn’t help but feel watched, followed, and you knew that sensation would follow you for the rest of your life. But if it was only ever a thought, you could be okay.

👥

Steve didn’t know what to do with himself at first. First, his girl left and then his best friend.

In the early days of his solace, he told himself it wasn’t true. They’d be back. They couldn’t live without him. They would apologize because they betrayed him. They would realise that he wasn’t the villain. He wasn’t wrong. He busied himself with his missions and waited.

But after two weeks, he saw no signs, heard no tell, nothing. He tried to follow her trail but there wasn’t anything past the state line. He asked where Bucky went but Stark wouldn’t tell and SHIELD kept that information classified from all, even him.

Then, he felt bad and he lingered on those questions that tugged at his mind. Was he wrong? Was he the bad one? Had he really hurt them? Did he deserve it all? He felt awful and fell through on a mission and no one asked any questions. No one knew the reasons for the sudden departures and the downcast captain.

Then he was mad. He was breaking things. He was growling and shouting in frustration. He ripped a door off its hinges and punched a hole through a wall. He paid for the repairs but was told in no short terms to leave the compound. He was all too happy too. He still had that apartment and it wasn’t too bad being in his own space.

But it made him think of her. And as he thought of her, he missed another mission, this time without telling anyone. Phone calls, emails, knocks on his door, they all muddled together in the haze of his thoughts.

He remembered those days, decades ago when Bucky had been his only friend. When he was a boy, when he still felt young, when he still felt like him. He remembered everything that came after and how he fought to save the only man he ever admired. Then everything he’d made him do. He didn’t make him do that, he gave him exactly what he wanted.

Then she made his chest squeeze. He thought of the first time they met. He didn’t think much of her but she somehow won him over with her kindness. He recalled the realisation of how much he liked her, he wasn’t even reluctant enough not to think it was love in that instant. When she saw the loose stitch in his glove and pulled it away like it was nothing. She remarked on the little fix as ‘perfect’ and he couldn’t help his doofy grin and the line he spouted after, ‘not as perfect as you.’

And as he thought of her, he conjured all those hopes he had for them. The life he made for them in his mind. He was going to give it all to her but he just wanted a little fun first. That wasn’t so bad. He could still give it to her and that was all she wanted after all. She wanted the Steve she knew. She wanted the nuclear family and white picket fence. He wanted that too.

When the papers came to announce his dismissal from SHIELD, it felt like freedom. He didn’t care about saving the world anymore. He got out of bed these days and worked out, went for a run, and came back as he went about his own work. As he searched through the servers they tried to block him from and overrode the new restrictions. They always thought he was some clueless idiot from the past.

He could still have that life. All he had to do was find her. He smiled at the screen as he went over everything he had so far. The whiff of her blew out at the stateline but now he could go wherever he wanted without a leash. He could find her if he only tried a little harder.

👥

Steve gave notice on the lease and traded in his car for something with better mileage and more space. He sold everything that was his life before and headed out on the road with a new lease on life. He wasn’t the Captain anymore, he wasn’t the saviour, he only wanted to be one thing; a husband, a father, hers.

When he reached the state line, he stopped for a while at a motel and asked around. He had her picture and everyone was all too eager to talk to Steve Rogers. He found her car at a used dealership and got the plates and make of the one he’d switched her for. That was a start.

Then he moved on, stopping along the way for a day here and there to relax. He had time. He had confidence again. He did this everyday, this was her first time, she couldn’t outrun him forever. He had the skills and the savings to get him a lot further than she ever could.

He drove through several more states before he hit another block. A second car traded but the dealer was not as talkative. That meant he had to break in after dark and that was time he didn’t feel like spending on some stubborn bitch. But he got it done and moved on.

Then there was a week of doubt and desperation. What if he was wrong? What if this was all a part of her plan? Maybe she was smart enough to lead him in the wrong direction. Maybe Bucky was helping her. Maybe they were together. That thought made him livid.

He took off in the opposite direction but ended up with nothing but desert heat and rural nothingness. He turned around and assured himself that neither of them were smarter than him. He returned to the same point and slowly pieced together the clues until he was sure enough to keep on.

He was getting close. He could sense it. He pulled out his phone and opened those videos he’d taken from Bucky and the pictures of that day they’d made a mess of her. His hand was nothing compared to her and even if he came, he found himself dissatisfied. He ended up cursing only to start again a minute later.

That night he started in the bed then ended up in the shower and before he could get out of the bathroom, he was gripping his dick as he leaned on the counter and muttered her name over and over. He was impatient. He needed her soon or he was going to go mad.

He hardly slept as he tossed and turned in the hotel room. He checked out early but pulled over on the country road to get off again. It made him angry. She should be the one fucking him, he shouldn’t be using his own hand. He shouldn’t be alone. She should be there with his dick down her throat as he drove them to their suburban paradise.

He passed another city sign and spent a day running circles without a catch. He pressed on through the night, not wanting another motel bed, and pulled in at a station just outside a small town. He gassed up and chewed on jerky as he set out once more.

On a whim, he stopped in the small town and stopped for a meal at the local fish and chip place. It was unusual for the area but the fries were crispy and not overly salted and the fish breaded perfectly. He kept his hat on and his face down. He didn’t need to be recognized although his poor disguise seemed to draw attention.

“Louise,” the voice chimed with the bell, “gosh, I’m so sorry, I almost forgot.”

Steve looked up as his heart fluttered. He saw the green uniform shirt and black pants and at first, he was ready to deflate. But the way she walked, and her face, the way she glowed and smiled at the woman behind the till, he knew it was her. He’d found her.

“I am so stupid! I keep forgetting everything,” she counted out the money from her wallet, “I’ve been craving this all week and I’m halfway home and I’m like oh my god,” she chattered on, that way she did when they’d first met.

“Not at all, darlin’,” Louise handed her the parcel of fish and chips, “you go on enjoy.”

“Thank you!” she sang sweetly and scurried back through the door.

Steve stood slowly and left his tab on the table with a thoughtlessly generous tip. He adjusted his cap and headed out the door slowly. She wasn’t moving as fast as she made her way down the street. She swung the tied parcel from her hand and he noticed how her hips swayed. There was something different about her, something he liked.

He kept the same pace, sure to hang back so that she didn’t notice him. She led him through a park and she stopped to smile at a party of ducks in the small pond. She carried on over the small bridge and he sat on a bench when she looked back. She didn’t seem to notice as an older couple passed him and he hid behind them.

He got back up just as she was at the exit. He trailed her back to the streets and to an old brick building with an iron sign above the front door. She let herself in and he stood outside with a smirk.

“Perfect,” he said to himself as he backed away and strode down the sidewalk, “always so perfect for me.”

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anthonystan · 3 years

Photo

Has anyone else spent the last month consuming as much fan fiction as possible to fill the hole left in your heart by these two idiots? No, just me? Cool.

TFATWS Adjacent

38th Parallel (T)(no pairings) by @743ish It took a long time, a long, terrible time before he got the arm.

different with every shore (T) by @jomilitum How Sam figures out that Bucky’s probably into him, which is a problem because Sam loves Bucky but it’s not like he’s IN love with Bucky, right? A remix on the last half of episode 6, Rated T for Tender Kisses.

Access Granted (T)(Incomplete) by @suaine Redwing comes back to life with an upgraded AI and has opinions. Especially on Bucky.

Ship of Theseus (NR) Boat building fic where Sam wants to fuck but fears the bro code, and Bucky doesn’t get why his increasingly slutty advances aren’t working. Also, Bucky gets his own ship of theseus moment.

Learn to Stop Worrying and Love the Drone (T) Bucky regretted a lot of things in his too-long lifetime, but right now, at the very top of the list, with a very bold bullet point, was keeping that damn drone in the specs for Sam's new suit. Now the little pest wouldn't leave him alone.

Post-TFATWS Canon Compliant

No Ordinary Love (T) by @fauxsciencedork Bucky’s been magically cursed to be allergic to Sam Wilson. For fuck’s actual sake.

Favorite Worst Nightmare (E) by @stereobone This is a dream, Sam realizes. I'm in Bucky's dream.

Got a Feeling that I’m Going Under (E) by @cyclogenesis In which Sam discovers that even super soldiers need a hand with healing sometimes, and it turns out there's a slippery slope between helping out a partner and falling completely in love with said partner.

spark me up, i’m a firework (i’ll burst into light) (E) by @coffeeinallcaps Bucky wants to take it slow. Sam finds out why.

all bets are off (E) by @capnwinghead It was a stupid bet, but Sam was a man of his word.

gasoline, pretty please (i wanna get off but you’re such a tease) (E) by @notcaycepollard When Bucky's libido shows back up, it's basically proof that his life is cursed. Specifically: he can't fuckin’ come unless someone's giving him the order.

Home (M) Sam and Bucky move in together. Then they talk about moving in together.

behind everything that we do (M) Bucky takes care of Sam, in a way.

Featherlight (E) by @anactorya After an accident in a creepy lab, Sam ends up with actual wings. Great big, white, feathery angel wings, which are way more of a pain in the ass than you'd think. Bucky offers him a helping hand.

Not Canon Compliant but who cares, read it anyway

Biting is a Love Language (T) by @anactorya Bucky's missing.In his apartment, Sam finds his arm, his phone, his dog tags, and a really angry three-legged cat.

a tactile sort of guy (E) by @lies-unfurl Sam learns pretty quickly that Barnes is a tactile sort of guy, but it’s still a surprise when he stops Sam in their shared hotel room post-mission and asks to suck his dick.

for you i’m accommodating (E) by @unclesmelliot Sam always had a thing for people who are good at what they do. Now, alarmingly, that same principle of attraction has apparently extended to Bucky fucking Barnes rolling a joint.

#sambucky #winterfalcon #tfatws #sam x bucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #marvel #fic rec #my first rec list did so well don't let this one fail

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marvelouslytrekking · 3 years

Text

The Escaped Bride {2/?}

Ch 2: The Escape

Pairing: Bucky/reader Summary: You’re family has decided that you have had plenty of time to move on, but you don’t want to move on, so they make the decision for you. One that you cannot live with so you have to hatch a plan to get out of another arranged marriage. Word Count: 1153 Warnings: Arranged marriage, prob a swear word or two A/N: Okay, so here is chapter 2! I really love this story so far and I hope you all do as well! This will be slowish update most likely but I have a plan for the whole story basically so it might go faster! We will see! Feedback feeds my soul, so please tell me what you think!!

Series Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

You were heartbroken, James had promised you many things, two of them being he would never leave you or break your heart, and yet he had ultimately done both. The worst part was you couldn’t be angry at him, you knew he hadn’t had a choice and you also knew that he had probably fought with everything he had to try to come back to you.

While you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at James, you were angry at everyone else. You hated the navy, the pirates, your parents, just anyone you were able to direct your anger at you would.

You spent most of your time grieving. You knew you should start to move on, it had been two years somehow, but you couldn’t find anything that interested you anymore. You would spend your days reading, or writing. You only socialized when your parents made you but you were always as short as you could be with people.

You could tell that you were losing your ability to use your grief as an excuse. Not just your parents, but others were getting tired of your behavior and everyone was telling you to move on, even his parents, but you couldn’t, he had been your everything.

“You called for me?”

“Yes, we need to discuss something.” Your father told you. You knew whatever it was going to be you weren’t going to like it but you followed him and sat down across from him. “It has been two years now since James passed away. Your mother and I are worried you are on a path of not moving on.”

You sighed, you were expecting this conversation sooner rather than later but you were hoping for a little more time before they asked you to start letting men court you. “I know, It’s just been hard to move on.”

“I know,” He nodded, “That’s why your mother and I have found someone else.”

“What?” You asked in disbelief.

“He is a lord, and very well off.” Your father mostly ignored your protest, “He has more status than James did so in many ways this marriage will be better.”

“More status?” You were shocked, “I loved James! I will not be marrying some lord who I do not know just because he has money.”

“It is already arranged.” Your father said with authority in his voice. “The wedding will be on the 18th.”

“That’s in two weeks!” You felt like your father had punched you in the gut. He might as well have but you weren’t able to even process what was happening.

“Yes. Your mother and I have gotten most everything planned.” He told you, “He will give you a good life.”

“Any man who agrees to marry someone before ever meeting them is not a man I want to be near.” You threw back.

“I will hear none of this!” He shouted. “You have no choice, you will marry him. That is the end of this discussion.”

You left without another word, waiting until you made it back to your room before you broke down into sobs. You couldn’t stand the thought of betraying James by marrying another man.

It only made it worse when one of your maids informed you it was Lord Pierce, a man who was nearly the same age as your father and had already had two wives before you. The idea that neither of your parents thought it was gross to marry you off to such an old man made you sick. Not only an old man, one as horrible as Pierce, you had never heard anything good about him and you were now promised to him with no way out.

The one good thing was that your father hadn’t lied about them having covered all the planning. While you had lots of say in your wedding with James, they were making all the decisions for this one. You spent most of the time alone in your room trying to devise a way out.

It came to you one night as you were staring out your window towards the sea. The ocean would be your escape. You started to work on your plan. While your mother and father were busy planning your wedding, you were busy planning a way out.

Two nights before the wedding you retired to your room early as you always did. Instead of going to bed though, you finished preparing your bag. You changed into a servant's clothing that you had stolen a few days ago. You had been sneaking food from the kitchen over the last few days and had a small bag of supplies that would hopefully last you long enough.

The hardest part was getting out of your house without anyone seeing you leave. You waited until you were sure your parents had gone to bed, before opening your window. Being on the ground floor had always been beneficial and you slipped out easily. This hadn’t been your first time sneaking out, you had met up with James many times after dark but this had the largest consequences if you were to be caught.

You made your way to the docks as quickly as possibly. You let out a small breath of relief when you saw the boats lined up, you weren’t in the clear yet, but you made it this far. You took a moment to scan the boats before finding one that you knew you’d be able to sail on your own.

James had spent some time teaching you how to sail. He loved being on the water and wanted to teach you that love as well. You always were happy to learn anything, and had taken in everything he had told you.

You board a boat that you’ll be able to manage and work quickly to leave the docks and make it onto the water. You wanted to get as far as you could as quickly as you could before anyone knew you were missing. Or a fisher found their boat missing, you didn’t need that complication.

You allowed yourself to finally breathe when you looked back and the lights on the docks were barely visible. By the time morning had arrived, you weren’t able to even see them, which meant they couldn’t see you.

You had a moment of sadness as you realized you would never get the chance to tell your parents goodbye, or the few friends you still had. But just thinking of the marriage that was now supposed to be tomorrow, made the sadness disappear quickly.

Your focus now, was keeping the boat you were one afloat and finding somewhere you would be able to start a new life. You hadn’t really thought about what you would do, but you knew that it didn’t matter. You would do anything to not be stuck as a wife of a loveless old man.

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 3 years

Text

Next to You

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: angst/fluff.

a/n: GIF requested by @captain-pikas-world . I haven't written much since my dad passed in December. This is my attempt to get back into it. Hope you enjoy.

The air is heavy, it always feels heavy to Bucky as he steps out into the world. Every time, his breath is slacked with nerves trapped at the tip of his tongue. He eases towards the crowd of people, everyone gathering near the lake. His eyes moves around to each face, his instinct is to look for Sam. His best friend now, the person who has pushed him further than he thought he could go. It would be a lie to say the pair had an easy start, it was rough but like the leaves underneath his boots – they were able to snap into something new. New pieces of who they are after Steve's departure, and Bucky was the first to admit, it works. Everything therapy and Sam has taught him, along with his own self reflection, has helped. In the mirror, each morning, he sees something new. A mixture of his old self and who is he now – he actually smiles now. Yet, he knows something has not entirely come back – the ease of being around a woman he adores.

His eyes finally land on Sam, but they only are on the man for a few seconds before making there way to you. Where you are standing next to his friend, the two of you facing the lake. Bucky's heart starts to race as he forces himself to move forward, feeling ridiculous that one single person was making him stumble over his steps. Of all the things he has gone through, this was what was going to give him a heart attack. Muttering to himself that he was being stupid, he reaches Sam's side with a slight smile.

“Sorry I'm late,” he apologies and you turn to him. His throat clenches as you smile and point out to the lake.

“Sam was thinking we could charter a boat for the day, what do you think? Was Steve a fishing type?”

Right, Bucky thought to himself. The day was about celebrating the one common factor in your friendship – Steve Rogers.

“We went fishing a few times, but neither of us were exactly fishermen.”

“Or men,” Sam snorts and you laugh.

“Ah, well, it's the thought that counts, right?”

Bucky grins finally, eyes entirely on you. He nods lightly. “Yeah, that's all that counts.”

Sam's facial expression changes and suddenly he's declaring that he was going to go see about a boat near the dock station. You wave him off and ask Bucky to help with the poles and supplies from the car. The two of you walk in silence through the crowd, it was a national holiday so the lake was a little crowded.

“Maybe we should have come a different day,” you sigh, unlocking your car. Bucky agrees, but opens the trunk and gives you a small nudge.

“Your idea is great, it's going to be great.”

His reassurances turns your stomach warm, the sun bearing down on your skin as he hands over the poles. “Take these and I'll get the rest.”

Effortlessly, Bucky gathers all the supplies for the boat, including an oversize ice chest and asks you if you were ready. You feel anxious as he walks at your side, wondering out loud if Sam was able to secure a boat for the day. There is a handful of boats already out on the lake, so the prospects were looking bad as the two of you caught up to Sam. Yet, he is all smiles, tossing up keys in the air, catching them with a smirk.

“Great, he's going to gloat all day about this.”

“Maybe being on a boat with the two of you was a bad idea,” you tease.

Bucky laughs. “Too late now.”

“I'm steering,” Sam declares, although neither Bucky or you even knew how. “I'm Captain on and off land, so let's go.”

The boat is nice, large enough for a handful of people. It only takes about twenty minutes to leave the dock, after getting settled and making sure everything was accounted for. Sam takes to the wheel and whistles when the engine comes on, Bucky rolls his eyes but the smile on his face is clear as the day. You sit across from him as Sam takes the boat out into the middle of the lake. Bucky catches your eyes several times, always looking down at his lap with a bashful expression. You try to not overthink his looks and just enjoy the ride of it all. When Sam is finally satisfied with the perfect spot, the three of you gather in the middle of the boat with drinks in hand.

“To Steve, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have either of you in my life,” Sam proposes, nodding his head to Bucky and you. “Now whether that is a good or bad thing is up for interpretation.”

“Jackass,” Bucky mutters, but you laugh, like you always do. It's a simple, telling laugh that clutches Bucky by the heart each time he hears it. A laugh that eases him in any situation, a laugh he misses at night when he is alone in his apartment.

“To Steve,” you declare, holding up your beer. The two men follow suit and you allow Sam one sip before taking it away. He obliges and lets you, finishing it off. The men applaud you, even though you apologize for the small burp that comes out of your mouth.

“It's fine,” Bucky smiles, taking the empty can from you. “It's kind of cute.”

Sam's eyes widen and he claps his hands together. “I'm going to check on the wheel real quick, make sure everything is good. Then we eat, I made some bomb ass sandwiches.”

Bucky tries to ignore the wink Sam gives him before making himself scarce. He's almost too afraid to glance your way as you sit back down. He manages to take his seat, quickly stealing a look at you. His heart races as your eyes stare back, his face tightens.

“I miss him,” you whisper and Bucky immediately understands.

“Yeah, I miss the punk too.”

Looking down at the beer can in your hand, you sigh. “He really just went and made a life for himself. You knew, didn't you? Sam didn't. I didn't.”

Bucky's eyes move down to his lap, his throat warm as he nods. “He told me his plan and who was I to stop him? I couldn't do that to him. Sam and you, you were his closes friends – he...he didn't want to hurt you two.”

“I understand, but can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why didn't you go back?”

Everything seems to go quiet as the question touches Bucky's ears. This was a question no one ever thought to ask. A question he has asked himself plenty of times until he was finally able to gather an answer – an answer he never had a reason to say out loud. He opens his mouth, but his chance is interrupted by Sam's reappearance.

“Whose hungry?”

The food is delicious, the three of you sit around and eat for the next hour. The air is fresh as each of you take turns telling a Steve story, the boat is flooded with laughter as the tales are told. Bucky takes to recalling old days, Sam brings up the time Steve took him to a ball game, and you mention all the failed attempts at getting Steve a date. The afternoon slowly turns into a soft evening as fireworks light up the lake. The screams of delight fill the air as Sam, Bucky, and you stand side by side. The boat rocks gently, causes you to stumble into Bucky. He grins and takes a hold of your shoulder with his hand, as Sam claps and hollers at the light show. He is not paying attention to his friends, instead he's taking video on his cell for Sarah and his nephews.

“Are you okay?”

“Metaphorically or in the moment?”

Bucky's face softens and whispers, “In the moment.”

You ignore the booms of the fireworks surrounding the lake, instead focusing on the weight of his fingers on your shoulder. “I'm good, you?”

Slowly, his smile fades and he glances over to Sam. He is either to busy recording the show or is trying to be a good friend by pretending nothing is happening between his friends. Bucky looks back at you and sighs. “I have an answer to your question. I – I thought about this a lot. I want to tell you.”

Bucky's eyes seem vulnerable and it is something you do not take lightly. Having know him for years now, you always have made sure to take things at his pace. Your friendship was what you had always offered to Bucky, because that was what he needed after Steve left. Yet, love slowly crept its way into your heart a few years back. Sam was the only person aware, his encouraging words were always a blessed curse, because what if the feelings were not mutual?

Losing Bucky, after losing Steve, would only hurt more.

“Tell me,” you whisper back, heart racing.

He looks up at the sky, for encouragement before laying his eyes on you. “Steve, he had something to go back to. At the end of the day, he was still that boy from Brooklyn. I wasn't, I wasn't the same, after everything, going back – going back would have been torture. I had to settle things here and going back would have been running away. That's why I couldn't go with him.”

You stare at him as his hand slips from your shoulder, but before it could reach his side, you take it. His hand is warm as you hold onto it tightly, struggling to get the words out. Holding onto his hand as the fireworks explode into the sky, the colors reflecting in Bucky's eyes. It was obscene, the look in his eyes as you felt his thumb across your skin. It was a look of something more than lust, it was fate.

“You've atoned, Bucky. You are a free man, this world belongs to you.”

His eyes close for a moment, heart racing as the feeling of something new bursts colors into his insides. All the atonement, the self reflection had gotten him here – on a boat with his best friend and the woman of his life. This, it felt, was what it was all about.

The torture, the self hatred, the loneliness.

Bucky was truly free now.

All that is left, the last thing on his list, is you.

Looking over to Sam, he chuckles when he realizes his friend has once again disappears. Grinning, Bucky squeezes your hand before gently pulling you towards him. Your hand falls on his chest and he reaches up to touch the side of your face. Your heart is racing, as his is. The two of you can not manage a single world, but as the fireworks illuminate the sky in a grand finale, he kisses you on the lips.

#bucky #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #ivonnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Note

hey I loved what you wrote for sarahbucky! You are so talented. I was wondering if you are comfortable writing any NSFW content or smut related content for this pairing? If you are I would love you to write something, anything of the sort. If you're not comfortable that's absolutely fine!!

Chasing Water Pumps

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: E Word Count: 5288

Summary: After banishing Sam, Sarah gets Bucky's help reinstalling the boat's water pump.

The water pump sits there on the dock through the morning. It sits there at midday. In the late afternoon, Bucky laughs when Sam almost falls over it as he walks backwards, waving his hands to guide a reversing pickup truck into position. A neighbour bringing spare lumber so they can replace a few rotting boards on the Wilsons’ boat.

Bucky can see—has been able to see all day—that Sam’s itching to just fix the damn pump back into position. Sam’s conscientious, neat, completing one job before moving on to the next, replacing pliers in the toolbox after rewiring the radio, coiling up the cord of a borrowed drill so no one can trip over it. Leaving a hulking piece of machinery just sitting there is killing him. All because Sarah won’t let him touch it.

For Bucky, watching this claim-staking over an old water pump is hilarious. It’s also something he takes absolutely seriously, backing away from the thing the minute Sarah ordered the two of them to quit tinkering and just leave it alone. He’s got no issue ceding to her authority. Oh, he’ll argue with Sam about other parts of the project, but he’s not gonna push back against Sarah. He’s only here for a couple days and she already won his loyalty by letting him bunk on her couch last night. They might be repairing a boat, but Bucky’s not making any waves.

When the sun starts going down and the helpers from the community start heading home to their suppers, almost as many of them shake Bucky’s hand as Sam’s. Bucky feels really good about that. He likes that they’ve become comfortable with him—many of them slapping his Vibranium shoulder as they take his right hand, like it’s just an arm. He likes the lingering warmth of the day and how it’s dried the back of his shirt where he sweat through it. He likes squinting into the sun to watch the vehicles pull away and seeing Sarah standing there, smiling at him. Cupping a hand above his eyes, he smiles back.

“Alright,” Sam says, taking a big step to bring him from boat to land. “Let’s get this water pump back in place.”

Immediately, Sarah comes forward.

“Uh uh, no. That’s not your job.”

“This whole thing is my job,” her brother protests.

Bucky stands on the sidelines, content to witness Sam lose this argument. Getting to study the way the sinking, burning glow of the sun catches on Sarah’s earrings is the equivalent of being handed an ice cream. The breeze that blows her open button-down against her to show him the intimate dip of her waist is the cherry on top of that ice cream. His gaze trails unhurriedly back up to her face and he sees that she’s been watching him admire her. Normally, staring is his default expression, but now his heart hammers with giddy yearning as he holds her eye. She smiles fleetingly before looking back to Sam. Oh right, Sam’s talking. Bucky had kinda tuned him out.

“It won’t take long.”

“No it won’t,” Sarah agrees. “Not if I do it. You’ve messed around with that pump enough for one day.”

“Sarah, come on. Be practical,” Sam pleads. “You can’t do it by yourself.”

“I won’t do it by myself. Bucky here can do the heavy lifting.”

Ok, he’s surprised about that, but when she glances to him, he nods readily. He refuses to meet Sam’s side-eye. He’s sure the message is ‘You traitor.’ Ignoring him, Bucky beams at Sarah.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he tells her.

“And what am I supposed to do?” Sam demands. “Watch?”

“Since you asked,” Sarah informs him, “you’re supposed to go pick your nephews up from AJ’s friend Marco’s house. If they haven’t eaten yet, feed them.”

“But—”

Sam motions indignantly towards Bucky, but Sarah waves away his complaint.

“You asked what I need from you and I told you. Let us get on with what we’ve gotta do here. We’re losing daylight.”

“You heard her, Samuel,” Bucky says, striding to the pump.

The wrench he and Sam passed back and forth while unbolting it is in the top tray of the toolbox when he flips it open. Tucking the wrench into his back pocket, Bucky turns and heaves the pump off the ground. Sarah’s watching. He throws her a smile with a little upward jerk of his chin. She rolls her lips together like she’s hiding her own smile but stands firm until Sam gives up and stalks off across the boatyard.

“You think it’d be cruel to yell after him not to wait up?” Sarah asks Bucky nonchalantly, hand on her hip as the two of them observe her brother’s retreat.

Bucky almost drops the pump before hugging it to himself too tightly, stopping when he hears the metal creak. But he tries to be cool.

“Only if you mean it,” he says.

She spares him a glance that doesn’t tell him either way and walks past, stepping onto the boat.

“You got it?” she asks.

“Yep,” Bucky assures her, adjusting his grip and jumping down onto the deck. Coulda stepped. Wanted to show off. Story of his life since he met Sarah Wilson maybe 36 hours ago.

He follows her into the cabin and she digs through a box of supplies, grabbing a flashlight.

“Might need this soon.”

Her explanation’s unnecessary (the sky’s darkening above them) and Bucky can see the nervousness in it, how she self-consciously plays with the hem of her t-shirt and twists her earring now that they’re together in a semi-enclosed space.

“Unless that arm of yours glows in the dark,” she adds.

“Unfortunately not,” he says with a smile as they duck below deck. His feet clomp sturdily down the steps, but Sarah still looks up at him from the bottom like he might teeter. “You shoulda been there while they were deciding on the specs.”

Sarah laughs, navigating the protruding inner workings of the boat more smoothly than movie spies crossing rooms streaked with red lasers. (Stupidest fucking scenes Bucky’s ever seen.)

“That was in Wakanda, right?”

“Sam told you?”

“He did. I guess you’ve seen a lot. Been a lot of places,” Sarah amends.

For a minute, his throat’s thick. She corrected herself to make sure he knew she wasn’t being nosy about his past. He wouldn’t mind. It’d be fair of her to bring up any worries she had, what with the two of them being alone here. But then, maybe he doesn’t make her nervous in that way. She’s the one who asked him to stay. (Or just told him he was staying more than asked, really.)

“So has Sam,” Bucky points out.

“Yeah, but Sam has to come back here to avoid getting an earful over the phone. Why would you wanna be here? Right here,” she adds, motioning to the spot where the water pump sat until early this morning. Bucky was one of the people who removed it, plus there’s a clear silhouette where the side rests against the boat, inside of which shape the wood’s less weathered, but he’ll be as clueless as Sarah wants if it results in more of this—her hand on his back as she trades places with him to guide him in ahead of her.

“It’s nice here,” he says simply. “Like a holiday.”

The instant he says it, he wants to backtrack. None of this is a holiday for the Wilsons; in spite of the block party atmosphere of the community coming together to restore the boat, they’re doing all this to ensure their livelihood. A good future for Sarah and her boys. She shoots him a benevolent smile like she knows he knows he just put his foot in his mouth. He can only shake his head at himself and carry on.

Squatting, Bucky aligns the holes in the pump’s base with those in the plate it has to mount back onto. They’re a little rusty, but the old blue paint’s just flaking, no problems with the actual integrity of the metal.

“You always do volunteer manual labour on your holidays?” Sarah jokes, putting a hand on his shoulder as she maneuvers around him. She drops to a crouch at his side and directs the beam of the flashlight down onto the pump.

“I like to be busy. I sleep better that way.”

“Until your host’s kids wake you up.”

“Aw, that was no problem.”

“Wrench?” she asks.

“Back pocket.”

Bucky could pass it to her. He could take one hand off the pump, retrieve the wrench, and hold it out for Sarah to grab. Hell, he could take both hands off the pump. The thing’s just sitting here. But he’s selfish, trying to make it look like he has to keep the pump from shifting out of the position he’s put it in, because he wants to find out what Sarah wants. He hasn’t completely thought this through, but some part of him’s saying a good way to find out what Sarah wants is to see if she’ll take the wrench from his back pocket while he’s squatting, jeans hugging his ass.

She laughs softly, looking at the floor.

She slides the wrench out of his pocket.

Now, there’s no actual contact required there, but she has touched him a couple times, so when she asks, “Bolts?” he looks at her in the dim light—flashlight still tilted towards the floor—and tells her, “Front pocket.”

When Sarah elects to maintain the angle of the light by holding the end of the flashlight in her mouth, Bucky thinks she might be capable of cruelty after all; he feels his face go slack at the sight of her lips around a fucking plastic cylinder. The choice leaves her hands free though, which is perfect because she apparently needs to grasp his knee with one for balance while the other goes to his hip, feeling out the line of his pocket. Bucky tries to breathe deep and even. This has gotta be it, the scenario Sam was most worried about when he left them here together.

Mercifully, when Sarah gets her fingers hooked into Bucky’s front pocket, she removes her other hand from his knee and uses it to hold the flashlight. He shifts forward onto his knees so his pocket isn’t pulled so tight and she can get her hand in there. Clearly a bad, terrifying plan now that his dick’s started to stiffen from the lingering image of the flashlight in her mouth and the proximity of her fingers to his crotch. It’s dark. Maybe she won’t see.

“Bolts,” Sarah says, wiggling her fingers deeper. “Nuts too?”

Their eyes meet and she pulls her hand back. Not too fast. Not like she embarrassed herself, saying something she didn’t mean to. Just like she did her bit and now the plan is to see what he’ll do. All he’s really capable of doing for the moment is extracting the nuts and bolts himself, dropping one of each into the raised palm she offers. He takes over with the flashlight and purposely doesn’t touch the end. It’ll drive him crazy if the plastic’s still wet.

“Thanks.”

“Yep.”

He spends three bolts being awkward, just pinching the head of each between his Vibranium fingers to hold them steady while Sarah tightens the nuts with the wrench from underneath the mounting plate. His other hand shines the light right where she needs it. They’re a different team than he and Sam are. Somehow, they can do two parts of the same job in the smallest scale, their hands practically on top of each other without either of them getting in the way. Bucky tries to think about that rather than her leg pressing against his or the fact that the gentle rock of the docked boat reminds him of rocking his hips forward when he… well. Does something he’s trying not to think about.

The wrench is old and though Sarah flicks the adjustment with her thumb to make it grip each nut in turn, it loosens and slips. It makes the task take longer and Sarah have to work harder. With two bolts to go, she sits back and pulls her button-down off, draping it over a pipe. Her t-shirt only catches Bucky’s eye because, even in here, the yellow’s so bright. It’s just the shirt. Absolutely not the shape of Sarah in it.

She leans back in, dropping the second last bolt through the hole. She feels beneath the plate to start the nut up the bolt’s threads with her fingers. With a soft noise of effort, Sarah simultaneously applies the wrench and reawakens Bucky’s erection.

“Sorry for keeping you from dinner,” she says, still tightening in the circle of light he provides. “You must be starving.”

“You have no idea.”

Bucky doesn’t mean for the words to sound the way they do, or maybe he does. Sarah falters, then finishes, but when she leans forward to fit the final bolt in place, the side of her breast presses his arm, and that’s the beginning of the end. Or possibly the end of the middle. Anyway, Bucky lets go of the flashlight and wraps his hand around Sarah’s waist instead. The flashlight must land on its button because the boat goes pitch-black. Why didn’t either of them think to turn the overhead light on? He hears the nut fall from her hand. It’s not one of the nuts he’s concerned with at the moment, so he tells himself they’ll look for it later and focuses on Sarah leaning in to find his lips in the dark.

Kissing her is… Hell, it’s something he’s been thinking about since they met yesterday. When she marched straight over to the boat and then changed her posture the second she spotted him. Bucky appreciates clear body language—it’s something he can do a quick read of and understand. If they’d had more time at that first meeting, of course he would’ve talked to her, flirted with more than a smile, but the smiles they swapped were an effective stopgap until they could end up right here. His mouth on hers. Being careful not to trap her braids under his fingers when he skims them up the back of her neck.

“Um,” Sarah says, breaking away with a shy laugh.

He keeps his hand on her lightly and feels her tilt her head forward like she’s avoiding his eye, even in the dark. Before he can worry that something is wrong, that he’s done something wrong, she lifts her head again and her braids flick, pattering across his forearm like rain.

“You should know,” she says, “since my husband passed, I haven’t really had a lot of time or inclination for this kinda thing, but...”

“That’s ok,” Bucky quickly assures her. “This doesn’t have to be anything. I didn’t mean to push.”

“And you didn’t.”

They sit in silence for a minute before he clears his throat.

“I’ve never… I’ve never had anybody special to me in that way, like your husband was to you, nobody to lose like that. But I do understand… uh, the sort of, um, momentousness… when it’s been a while.”

“You do?”

He can hear humour in her voice. This wasn’t supposed to be a funny conversation. Is he making it that weird?

“Sure. You know about me,” Bucky says quietly. He knows she must. She never asked who he was to Sam to be showing up here, being offered their couch for the night. Never asked about the arm, though he hasn’t tried to hide it. (He can’t remember the last time he just lived like this and the relief is enormous.)

“Tell me about the momentousness.”

He’d like to be able to see her better, but it’s also nice to know she has no idea the way he’s blushing over her request. It’s his own damn fault. Trying to be tactful and generous. Trying to say he knew how she felt, only for Sarah to call him on that. He’s gotta learn that this is not a woman who lets a man speak for her and, if he blunders into doing just that, she doesn’t let him off the hook. And she has a fish business. Who woulda thought.

“Well, it’s, uh…” Bucky rubs the back of his neck with the hand not cupping hers. “It feels like a big deal. Almost like being young all over again.”

“Hey,” she interjects, “some of us are still young.”

He laughs.

“Sorry. I just mean it’s… exciting. You know, thrilling. You wanna do everything at once but you’re also so scared to just…”

“Just…?”

“To just touch her,” he breathes out.

Sarah leans her head back so his hand’s not only touching her neck but holding it up. He laughs again as she straightens. He gets the point; he’s already touching her. So maybe it’s easier than even he thinks it is. Touch. Intimacy. Defiling the belly of a fishing boat with somebody who turned his head so fast he’s the one who needs something bolted back into place. Maybe one on either side of his neck, like Frankenstein’s monster. He sure does feel alive.

“I said I haven’t done this a lot lately,” Sarah says, loosely grasping his wrist. Bucky slips his hand off her neck to line it up with hers, lacing their fingers. “Not that it’s necessarily been that long since the last time I went on a date that ended with more than a kiss at the door.” Abruptly, she laughs. “I’m trying to tell you there’s a condom in the pocket of that shirt I threw over… wherever it got to. If you want this to keep going in a direction where you’d need to use it.”

“Yeah. Yes. I want that.”

“And not just to annoy Sam?”

“Not just.” Bucky smirks in the dark.

“Ok then.”

“I like you, Sarah,” he says as her fingers play with his. He shifts to face her better. “You don’t make things complicated.”

“I think we’ve both had enough of that.”

He can only make a noise of agreement as he comes close enough to feel out her mouth. He’s wishing he’d shaved his face smooth for this—obviously not as certain this encounter was going to happen today, or at all, as the woman who’s been carrying a condom in her pocket—but with a rough tilt of his head as he takes Sarah’s mouth harder, his cheek rubs against hers and she makes a sound into his mouth. A positive sound. An arousing sound. Bucky does something he never does and holds her face in both his hands, metal and skin. Sarah’s go to his hips, hooking into his beltloops, and they both rise up on their knees to press closer.

But she says, “Ouch, kneeled on the wrench,” and Bucky’s only being helpful when he moves his hands to the back of her thighs, running up over her ass as he urges her to her feet with him.

His hands behave themselves a little better when they’re both standing; he keeps them on the small of her back, scrunching her t-shirt in his fingers when she bows into him. He could kiss Sarah for a long time. It’s something he’s always enjoyed, got a lot of practice at when he was young, kissing in the back row of a theatre or savouring every moment until a girl’s curfew with some feverish necking in the alley around the corner from her family’s apartment. Nobody’s counting down the minutes on Bucky’s time with Sarah, so it’s looking like he might be able to just keep dragging his lips across hers for ages, stroking his tongue into her mouth. The geography decides otherwise.

He hears the speedboat’s motor approaching long before he really makes sense of the noise. That happens when the choppy wake hits Sarah’s docked boat, tossing her forward against him.

Alright, tossing him forward. He’s the one whose sea legs are for shit.

It’s evident that she feels his erection against her stomach. She’d have to be really unfamiliar with how this dance went not to notice with the way he’s swelling for her.

“Yeah?” Bucky checks when Sarah digs her fingers into his hips to hold him to her body.

“Yeah.”

He pulls out of her embrace to hunt down that shirt.

“You know, I’ve done this before.”

“I know. I’ve met your kids.” His voice says he’s joking even as his hands move desperately, caressing the boat’s innards in search of soft cotton.

“I mean specifically on this boat,” Sarah confesses, laughing.

Bucky hears a pair of thumps he determines to have been her shoes hitting the floor after the next sound he hears is her unzipping her pants. Wildly, he snatches her shirt from the pipe and dumps the condom out of the pocket and into his hand. He forces himself to calmly replace the shirt where he got it from so she can find it after—just the thought of there being an after has him hardening further.

“It’s startin’ to feel like I’m not so special,” he teases, lurching back to her when the speedboat seemingly swings around upriver and makes a second pass, causing the ground to slope once more.

“You might be,” she teases back. While his legs are tensed to keep his balance, Sarah has to be stretching up on her toes to brush her lips over his. “We’re gonna see about that.”

Her hands curl around the back of his neck as she presses up into the kiss. Bucky groans and gropes for her hips, condom caught between two fingers. His hands run over the sides of her underwear, but it’s mostly skin he touches. Warm and smooth. Kissing Sarah deeply, he traces the soft grooves of stretchmarks, signs of her body’s endurance. She’s given birth twice, lost her partner, come through the Blip and out the other side. This is a survivor’s body. Although she didn’t remove her shirt along with her pants, Bucky breaks the kiss to strip off his. With trembling fingers, he guides her hand from his neck to his shoulder, letting her feel the scars.

Sarah grazes her palm over him. It isn’t hesitant and it isn’t harsh. She touches the place where metal and skin converge the same way she’s touched his neck, his knee. Her other hand strokes over his chest, dawdling to outline his dog tags, then sliding lower. Her fingertips are so light on his abdomen that they almost tickle. The river flows around and against the boat in faint slaps. Sarah’s hand falls to fondle his erection and he gasps into the stillness.

He crowds into her and she presses back against the wall of the boat.

“Is it too cold?” he wonders.

“Cold?” she asks distractedly, popping open the button of his jeans. “No, I’m good.”

Smiling to himself, Bucky ducks his head until they’re almost kissing.

“Ok,” he says. “Well, you let me know.”

His hand wanders from her hip, down, then up her inner thigh. Sarah shivers but doesn’t say anything about being cold, so, breathing harder, Bucky touches his fingers to her underwear between her legs. He can tell she finds his tentativeness a little funny—she exhales a soft laugh—but he needs this short pause to stop him from getting too eager. Though he didn’t want to clarify, he’s figuring that Sarah probably had sex on this boat during her teenage years, and he really doesn’t want his touch to remind her of some adolescent boy’s horny fumblings. Not when the setting’s already bringing up memories for her.

“No heckling,” he jokingly protests.

“I’m not, I swear I’m not.”

He can hear the humour in her voice and he likes the way her words hitch into a panted breath when he relocates his hand to her stomach and nudges his fingers under the band of her underwear.

“Second thoughts?” Bucky asks before he touches her anywhere too interesting.

“Nope. Just a lotta thoughts about you lifting heavy loads off trucks and workin’ a wrench.”

“Yeah?” He pushes his face up under her jaw, kisses there while she tilts her chin to give him room. “You been thinkin’ I might be good with my hands, Sarah?”

He hears her shaky breath when he says her name and thinks there’s a chance he’s not too bad at this. Even now. Not with somebody he seemed to emotionally fall right into step with the instant they clapped eyes on each other.

“No might about it. I’ve been watching you for two days. I know you’re good with your hands.”

Pressing his mouth hard to hers, Bucky slides his fingers down towards warmth and, it turns out, wetness. He groans against her mouth and she jerks his zipper down with demanding fingers. Wedging her hands between his skin and his clothes, Sarah begins forcing his jeans and underwear off together. Even as he’s aching for her to get him naked, he’s gathering her body against his, arm wrapped securely around her back as his fingers slip through her arousal. He curls two fingers inside her and her hips jolt in an apparently automatic attempt to get him deeper. She tries to widen her legs for him, but his hand’s intrusion has stretched her underwear across her upper thighs, so he plucks at them hastily until they fall and she kicks them aside. His own bottom layers are hanging on around his knees. Bucky can’t be fucked to deal with that. He’s punched through a lot of walls rather than going through doors; he knows what is and isn’t a serious obstacle.

Sarah lifts her thigh to his hip and their mouths part with a ragged, shared breath. The Vibranium arm around her supports her—metal fingers clamped tight on the condom between them—as his other hand works her with more pressure when she asks for it in a moan.

“Can I get you off like this, or you want me some other way?” he pants.

It’s like Steve used to say about damn near everything—Bucky could do this all day. He withdraws his fingers from inside her to scrub his fingertips up and down over her clit.

“I’m sure you can,” Sarah says, chest heaving as her hips sway in response to his touch, “but…”

Her hands, which had climbed to his arms after undressing his bottom half, creep lower. The grip of one hand catches in his elbow, thumb to his pulse. The other wraps around his straining cock.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But.”

Insistent on putting on the condom himself, he does it with one arm still encircling Sarah. While he’s tearing it open, he drops his face to her neck again. She sighs as he kisses down her throat and goes mmm when he licks along her collarbone. She’s sweaty, like him.

Though Bucky’s just dying to sink into her, holding her this close is a whole other kind of satisfying. He flicks the condom wrapper away and dips his head, taking hold of the front of Sarah’s yellow t-shirt with his teeth.

“Bucky! What…?”

But her hand pats the back of his head in time with her laughter as he drags the material up until it stays put above her breasts. Tragically, the ghost of Sarah’s horny teenage encounter on this boat possesses him and he’s compelled to mash his face into her cleavage as soon as it’s exposed. He rubs his lips over her breast and she takes the condom from him, reaching between them to roll it down his cock. The feel of her fist makes him grunt into her chest.

“You ready?” Sarah asks him.

Bucky lifts his head and looks at her. It’s dark, but not too dark to judge by her expression that she’s not just asking casually. This isn’t a carefree, youthful hookup—a couple teenagers sneaking onto a parent’s boat or perfecting their hickey-making technique in an alley. Is he ready? He hasn’t been. Not for the occasional assessing stare of a stranger on the sidewalk, or for dating apps and the staggeringly forward pictures people send in response to a simple ‘hi,’ or even for the low-stakes combo of beers and Battleship. But now? For Sarah?

“Yeah,” Bucky states, loud and clear, angling his hips forward when she takes her hands away.

“Alright,” she says, “so am I.”

He kisses her. He believes her.

He grips the underside of her raised thigh with one hand and his dick with the other, bending his knees slightly before pressing up into her. Heat slinks up his chest and twines around his neck like a scarf. Despite the tripping hazard of his pants around his legs, Bucky shuffles forward, holding Sarah so close. She doesn’t make a sound as he fills her, but when he pulls out and thrusts again, an uuuh catches in her throat. God, it feels good to be back in business.

Fingers digging into her leg and her ass, Bucky rocks his hips steadily, huffing sharply through his nose. Sarah’s hands move all over him. They’re on his shoulders, then squeezing his arms; grabbing his hips to encourage him to drive into her harder, then seizing his ass to hold him deep. When he does something good, he feels her tighten on his cock, a quick clutch and release. When he does something really good, she moans so loud the back of his neck tingles and he has to summon every bit of discipline he has not to just let go now.

The feel of the muscles in Sarah’s leg and ass flexing to sync the rhythm of their hips when things get rougher makes Bucky’s eyes roll back. He lifts her off the ground, thighs in his hands as he slings his hips sharply forward. Sarah curls into him, nipping one shoulder as she cups her hand over the metal of the other one. Her breasts bounce against his chest. He pins her between his groin and the boat and feels (and hears) it the second the motion of his hips drags at her clit.

“Bucky!” she gasps. “Don’t—”

“Stop?” he guesses, grinning even as he pants, even as he shifts his feet to make sure they’re gonna stay under him until this is over and he can set her down gently.

Sarah nods rapidly and Bucky keeps the closeness but progresses to fast, shallow thrusts. They should hum, like a machine, like a piston, like a pump, because that’s what it feels like, fucking her and falling for her, doing their dance with just the right friction. How it really sounds is wet, filthy, oh, but her smile is beautiful as she strives, fingers tangled in his dog tags. She comes calling his name. He’s right here, right there with her. She’s clenching so firmly around him that the pleasure might not end and he’ll just have to stay here on this boat, with her, and be Bucky, and get used to the luxury of it making sense again, his name in the mouth of somebody who needs him and wants him and could know him, after a few more nights on her couch and mornings with her kids. He could stand the sound of her name leaving his mouth every single goddamn day, but he’s gonna start with one day, this day, right now.

He says, “Sarah,” and wraps his arms around her, and hopes those arms feel strong.

#Anon you knew what you wanted and you asked for it nicely and I respect that #my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #Sarah Wilson #bucky x sarah #sarahbucky

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kimoralov3 · 3 years

Text

Best Friend's Brother

Requested By: Anonymous

Word Count: 2055

Pairing: Sam Wilson x fem!black!reader

Warnings: Swearing like a lot of it

(Y/N)'s POV

"AJ, Cass, help me bring these sheets and stuff to the extra bedroom upstairs." Sarah said as she poked her head in the kitchen.

"Why are you setting up the extra bedroom room?" I asked as I munch on a slice of cornbread.

"Sam is coming back home and he's bringing a friend." Sarah explained as pointed the boys in the direction of the linen closet.

"Wait, Sam's coming back?" I asked as I looked up at her.

"Yeah. (Y/N), I told you this like a week ago. Do you not remember?" Sarah asked, a hint of a smirk playing at her lips as she walked over to me.

"Oh, right! Sorry, I must've forgotten. What time is he getting here?" I asked as I sat up straight.

"Sometime later today. He said that he was gonna stop by the docks to check on the boats before he got here though. You should meet him there."

"Why exactly should I do that?"

Sarah gave me a look that said 'I ain't stupid' before answering me. "Don't play dumb, (Y/N). I remember how much you used to talk about how you liked him, and how you wished you could just gain the courage to ask him out. And judging by how you reacted just now, I'm guessing that those feelings haven't disappeared just yet."

"I hate how smart you can be sometimes." I huffed out as I rested my head on the counter. Sarah chuckled before patting me on the back.

"You should tell him. You can't keep stuff like this bottled up forever."

"But what if he rejects me? I couldn't bear the embarrassment." I mumbled as I turned to rest my cheek flat against the counter.

"Well then you accept it and move on. But I highly doubt that you'll get rejected." Sarah said as she went to go help the boys.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked as I leaned my head up.

"You'll find out eventually!" Sarah yelled from upstairs. I groaned, rubbing my face before going home.

----

Sam's POV

"So you have a sister?" Bucky asked as he looked at me.

"Yeah, why?" I asked as I looked at him suspiciously. Bucky just gave me a smirk and shrugged. "Oh no, I know that look. Keep that cyborg arm of yours away from my sister."

"I make no promises, Sam. Anybody else that I should know before we get there?"

"Well, yeah there's Sarah's best friend, (Y/N). Haven't seen her in a while, though." I rambled as I pulled up to the docks.

"So you have a crush on your sister's best friend? Pretty sure there's some type of rule against that." Bucky said as we got out the car.

"Woah now, who said anything about me having a crush on (Y/N)?" I asked as I got my tool box from the trunk.

"The way you talk about her suggests that you do. You saying that you don't?" Bucky asked as he followed me onto the boat. I shook my head, making my way towards the engine.

"You're seeing shit man. That's my little sister's best friend, why would I wanna be with her?"

"She could probably walk in here right now and you'd start grinning like the Cheshire Cat." Bucky said as he handed me a screwdriver.

"Are you gonna help me fix the boat or are you just gonna stand there and talk about what you think is going on in my love life?"

----

(Y/N)'s POV

Today's the day I guess. I thought as I hopped into my car. I texted Sarah that I was on my way and started the engine. During my drive, I let my thoughts run. Does he still look the same? Does he even remember me? Probably not. Whenever I saw him coming I'd run the other way. He probably thinks I'm a weirdo, and doesn't see me beyond his sister's best friend.

I shouldn't even be worrying about this. I sighed, stopping the car in front of the Wilson's house. I took a moment to compose myself before grabbing my phone and getting out of the car. I grabbed the pot of greens out the passenger seat and walked up the porch, knocking on the door. The door opened to reveal Sam standing there in a black turtleneck. Well fuck me.

"Hey (Y/N), it's good to see you!" Sam said as he pulled me into a hug. He smelled like a fresh baked batch of snickerdoodles, with extra sugar and cinnamon. I could get used to this. I gave him a smile once he pulled away.

"It's good to see you too, Sam! Man, you've gotten taller." I joked as I looked up at him.

"That, and you've always been on the shorter side. Here, let me take that for you." He said as he reached for the pot of greens. I said a small thank you and followed him into the house. "Sarah, (Y/N) is here!" He yelled up the stairs.

Sarah came into the kitchen, followed by a tall buff guy in a navy blue long sleeved shirt. "What's with everyone wearing long sleeves today? Y'all are aware that we're in Louisiana during the middle of the summer, right?" I said as I pointed between the two of them.

"Just got back from the mountains, still a little cold. The name's Bucky, by the way. It's nice to meet you." He introduced himself as he held his hand out for me to shake. I did and smiled at him.

"Nice to meet you too, I'm (Y/N). So, how long are you staying?"

"Just a few days, I gotta get back to New York." He explained as he leaned against the counter.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your stay. I gotta take the boys to the library to work on a school project, but I'll see y'all later." I waved goodbye, taking one more glance at Sam - maybe for a bit too long - before helping the boys into my car.

----

Sam's POV

I watched as (Y/N) left with the boys. Damn it, I should've said something. "So that's (Y/N)? I see why you like her, Sam." Bucky said once the door was shut and locked.

"Damn Sam, even Bucky can tell you're head over heels for her. You been gushing about her to everyone you come across?" Sarah said as she chopped up some vegetables.

"So y'all both ganging up on me now? That's cold."

"Nah, what's cold is you holding onto your feelings for almost 20 years now. Even after I told you at prom that she had feelings for you." Sarah said as she waved the knife around.

"First of all, stop swinging that knife around before you poke somebody eye out. Second of all, how was I supposed to know that you were telling the truth? Especially when she gets with some guy the next week?"

"So you believed that she really liked Michael after how much she used to trash talk him?"

"I don't know Sam, you seem to be the idiot in this situation. Although I'm sure that's a role you're used to fulfilling." Bucky said as he stole a carrot.

"First of all fuck you," I said as I pointed at Bucky. "And second of all, yeah maybe I was an idiot for not realizing that they were a fishy couple, but what's the point in saying something now? Like you said it's been years, and I highly doubt that she still has feelings for me. So we should just drop it. Alright?" I looked between the two of them. Sarah was looking at me like I was the biggest idiot in the world while Bucky just seemed amused by the whole situation.

"Sam, did you not see the way she was looking at you? She might as well have ran across the room and kissed you right then and there." Sarah explained as she turned her full attention towards me.

"Y'all are seeing shit. Can we just drop it? Please?" They both agreed to leave it alone, moving on to their own things. There's no way she could still have feelings for me. Right? Yeah, that's crazy.

----

C'mon, how can you get lost getting to the docks that are only 10 minutes away. I checked my watch again, groaning in frustration. Bucky said that he'd be here at 2:30, but it was nearing 3:15 and I was growing impatient. "Bucky Barnes, I'm gonna beat your ass the next time I see you." I mumbled as I looked around the docks.

"Sam?" Someone called from behind me. I turned around to see (Y/N) walking towards me.

"Oh, hey. What are you doing here?"

"Sarah texted me and said that she wanted me to help her with something. Are you down here to fix the boat?"

"Yeah. Bucky is supposed to be helping me, but he's almost an hour late."

"Sarah told me that he was watching the boys while we were working here." (Y/N) said as she looked at me. That's weird, why would they tell us to meet here if - oh God. "They told us to meet here because they want us to talk to each other. Dammit Sarah."

"Talk to each other? About what?"

----

(Y/N)'s POV

"About what?" Sam asked. If Sarah would've told me what she was planning I'd be a bit more prepared for this situation. Or run away. Yeah, I'd probably run away.

"About us, I guess."

"What about us?" He seemed to be confused, and that was honestly making it worse. How am I supposed to tell my best friend's brother that I've been in love with him since we were in high school? I sat down on a bench for a moment before speaking up.

"Look, I'm just gonna be honest with you," I started out. He nodded, signaling for me to continue and crossed his arms. His muscles just keep getting bigger and bigger. "I like you. I've liked you since we were in high school. Honestly, I'm not sure if this counts as just a crush anymore because I'm probably in love with you. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but Sarah keeps telling me that I should tell you. So I'm doing that now."

It was silent for a moment before Sam let out a chuckle. Then another, and another until he was full on laughing. Was me liking him that funny? "I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at myself. Man, can't believe Sarah and Bucky were right."

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused here. Right about what?"

"About me being an idiot for not realizing that you like me back." Sam said as he sat beside me. It took me a moment to process what he was saying.

"Wait, you like me too?" I asked softly. Sam smiled, giving me a nod.

"Yeah, I do. Like a lot." Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

"Wow, we're such idiots. We liked each other this whole time, but we were too stubborn to admit it." I giggled out.

"And we only admitted it to each other because Sarah and Bucky made us. Don't know how I feel about that."

"Well, let's just be glad. Then we can go beat their asses for tricking us."

----

"Where are the boys?" Sam asked as we walked inside the house.

"They went to go play with Ms. Sherlly's grandkids. What's going on here?" Sarah asked as she motioned at me and Sam's joint hands.

"We told each other about our feelings. Y'all ain't have to trick us into going to the docks to get us to confess though." I said as I looked between Sarah and Bucky.

"Well you two obviously weren't going to get to it yourselves. So we took matters into our own hands." Bucky said as he sipped on a beer.

"We're gonna get y'all back for this. Just wait." Sam said.

"I'm shaking in my boots." Sarah said as she patted Sam on the shoulder.

"Y'all gonna start treating me with some respect. I'm Captain America now." We all looked at Sam for a second before we busted out laughing.

#sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x female reader #sam wilson x black!reader #marvel x reader #x reader imagines #marvel #mcu #tfatws #the falcon #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon and winter soldier #lokis-reindeer-games

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

call me what you want

pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: general

word count: 2741

warning: alcohol, swearing

summary: Bucky thinks he quite likes Sam calling him nicknames, but he likes his smile more. (more tfatws canon compliant fluff.. just because!)

(look at me, once again ignoring exams to write stupid fluff instead. anyways! don’t have much to say but hope u enjoy!! <333 missing them already)

read on ao3

Bucky doesn’t realise just how long he’s been looking at Sam until the man glances over and calls him Buck.

When he thinks about it, his eyes never leave him. Not after those staring contests of theirs, which he’ll admit to himself and no one else that he’s the most responsible for. Not when Sam turns his back to him, focus returning to the mission and Joaquín and Redwing.

He’d roll his eyes at the nickname, but that would mean looking away from Sam, and losing eye contact with Sam.

“Don’t call me that,” he says instead, hopefully conveying his disagreement with a tight-lipped look. He considers smiling. Seems inappropriate.

The other man does smile, “Why not? It’s what Steve called you.”

Sam’s smile looks right. Feels right. Bucky’s had people smile at him before, sure, plenty, but it hasn’t ever felt exactly like this. He’s not sure what it means, though, so he pushes it the furthest way back into his consciousness.

“He knew me longer,” Bucky explains, pretending like it matters, “And Steve had a plan.”

The shorter man seems like he’s holding in a laugh, a smug one. That suggests he knows the obvious lie when he hears it.

Bucky can see the gap between his teeth.

If he turns his own lips into a smile when Sam turns away again, the man currently preparing to jump out the chute doesn’t need to know. If he spots it and gives him a funny look, he doesn’t need to know the reason behind the smile. Bucky knows.

Because Sam’s always calling him a cyborg, Bucky fumbles for some sort of retaliation. His name’s too short to make fun of, he contemplates. Damn him.

“I can see the gears turning,” the shorter man laughs, hard and out of breath. Bucky still can’t stop looking at him, for some reason. He bends over a bit when he laughs, picking up a faster pace than himself. Bucky makes sure to catch up.

His comeback ends up being, “Sure you can, birdman.”

He can tell the other man feigns offence, raised brows and nose scrunching at the edges. Sam smiles so easily. Bucky wonders what that’s like.

“Oh, I see how it is,” the man next to him speaks up, eyes dancing easily over the open, practically deserted field they’re surrounded by. There’s a car buzzing faintly a fair amount of miles away, Sam wouldn’t notice but he does, super soldier senses and all, “For the record, that movie’s not too bad.”

Bucky kicks a rock and some dirt to the side. The rock’s weird looking, all sharp edges, almost like spikes. Yet it’s so small. He decides to look at Sam instead, “What movie?”

A honk lets them know they’re not alone. He thinks this might be what disappointment feels like, because the other man stops himself after “I-” and shakes his head instead, causing Bucky’s brows to furrow and right hand to twitch and something sinking inside his stomach, “Nevermind.”

He has to remember to google that later.

Bucky doesn’t really care that Karli told Sam to come alone, because Sam also knows that he’ll be coming with him, no matter the protest.

He’s got a hunch Sam also knows that he was lying, again, reattaching his vibranium arm and gaining the senses back and pretending not to be all that shocked.

“You okay?” the man asks and he answers, “I’m fine.”

Of course. It’s fine. Kind of annoying, how Sam looks at him with a worried glance, trying to hide it but failing miserably. Bucky doesn’t look away when their eyes meet. The shorter man blinks, slowly, like a question.

And he always gestures for Sam to go first.

So he does, too, on the Wilsons’ boat, when he’s tightened near every damn screw and lifted every imaginable thing like it’s nothing, and yet the other man still refuses to ask for help. He accepts it when Bucky decides to put a cool hand on his hip, though.

Sam stills. He himself doesn’t move till the man in front of him does. Seconds seem like years.

“Alright, show-off, don’t overwork yourself,” he tells Bucky, laughing without much of the familiar smugness. The dimples in his cheeks are deeper now, wide eyes. Bucky expects Sam to be looking at his left arm, but his gaze is resting somewhere under his chin. His throat, above his chest.

He thinks he’s getting the hang of this nickname thing, “Sure thing, Sammy.”

And the other man throws a towel at him in response. “Sammy? What are you, five?”

Sam’s sweatshirt has a small hole in it. Near his hip, a tiny thread poking out. The fabric slides up when he raises his arm, revealing a sliver of his stomach. He imagines his skin to be soft, like his arm. It seems the man notices his fixated stare on the spot, looking for whatever the subject of his attention, wiping his forehead in the hem.

Bucky shrugs, “Give or take a hundred years.”

He understands why Sam’s chuckle doesn’t reach his brown eyes at that. What he doesn’t understand is his pupils, significantly dilated. Stupid serum advancement, stupid awareness.

A spot of sunlight touches the other man’s face, and he squints, covering himself with a hand, moving out of Bucky’s sight.

This is how he realises he’s still holding a grip on the now tightened pipe, harder than he thought. He’ll make sure to fix the bending he caused before Sam notices.

Sam is a good dancer. Not that Bucky’s an expert on it or anything, far from it, but he’s not tripping over his own feet or cursing or slinging his sister around like a ragdoll.

His nephews are jumping around them, too, a couple of their neighbours in a slow dance, another reaching out and offering Bucky a beer, which he accepts. The serum doesn’t allow him to be affected much, unless he deliberately seeks being unsensibly drunk, but he likes the bitter taste, regardless.

Sarah straightens her brother’s arm and rolls her eyes in the direction of himself.

Sam turns his head about a millisecond later, winking before spinning her around. It’s smooth as hell, despite not breaking eye contact with Bucky.

"Come on, Buckaroo!" the shorter man raises his voice, nickname just plain awful, "Get up here."

Bucky decides to shake his head as a reply, he's always preferred observing, really. Besides, he thinks he might be too quick on his feet. Too spinny, urging to not stand still.

Sam doesn't drag him up. He didn't expect him to, but it still surprised him, for some reason. The shorter man looks severely gentle with his hands on the small of Sarah's back, not surprising.

He gets a shake of the man's head and a shimmy of his shoulders. "Man, you're no fun."

Bucky huffs, “Whatever you say, darling.” Sam blinks in disbelief at the name. Sarah snaps him out to carry on with the dance. He likes having the man’s attention, he thinks.

He considers hiding his smile behind the rim of the glass. But really, there’s no need to, and he doesn’t feel like it.

The other man always grins as opposed to simply smiling. It grows just an inch when he notices Bucky smiling back, and there’s these tiny, sensitive hairs standing up on the back of his neck, he feels it immediately. Blood rushing to his face. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.

Just about every window in their house is open, his t-shirt sticks ever so slightly to his lower back with sweat, and a moth is fluttering around the lamp in the corner. It’s comical, tiny wings and body staying so close to that light, not really doing anything.

Eventually it’ll die, he guesses. Well, it has to, of course. But when the living room thins out and the light dies and everything turns quiet, it’ll simply wander around, lost, until that warm glow returns.

That stupid bug bathes in the light like it’s the only thing in life that matters. Bucky feels a sudden urge to look at Sam again, and the other man isn’t looking at him anymore, but it doesn't matter, his presence is enough.

Actually, he thinks he might fear looking away from Sam. Scared he’ll miss something, anything. A look or a smile or a joke or a movement. Some warmth radiating off of him, because the man has so much that he doesn’t even mind giving away a little to his surroundings.

Bucky’s quite like the moth, in that sense.

Now, Bucky didn’t plan on kissing Sam today.

He’d been planning on it, or he wanted to ask , but most times it was like the certain moment faded too quickly and he felt guilty for not doing anything about it.

When he woke up to AJ and Cass playing with the shield and the man cooking breakfast in a tank top, Bucky wondered if he should do it, then. It felt weird to try with both his nephews and sister in the kitchen though. He also sort of wished he had gone for it on the lower deck of the boat. Maybe Sam would think it was inappropriate when they were working.

When they circulated around each other the last few days, training, talking, Bucky gaining a deeper understanding for the other man and finding a way to convey an apology that sounds right, it feels like they’re more of a team.

Connected. Stronger, maybe. Sam doesn’t need his super soldier strength at all, though, but it being wanted anyway, that makes him want to smile more. As much as the shorter man, maybe, if he’s capable.

Bucky decides the next time, the next moment, it’ll come, like all the other moments he’s been discovering and making him sort of breathless. In a good way.

“Thanks for the help,” Sam tells him, instead of a goodbye, “It meant a lot.”

Usually, these sentimental moments they keep having will be ended by the other man lightening the mood, so to speak. Not breaking it, just making it airy and familiar. His stupid jokes that aren’t even stupid, or annoying, anymore, they just remind Bucky of something like safety. He hasn’t asked, and Sam hasn’t said, but he feels like he’ll be there if he falls down. He’d do the same for him.

The man doesn’t joke around, now, despite himself attempting to muster the same smugness, “Of course.” He feels like it sounds more sarcastic than he intended.

He quite likes that boat. Likes the people on it more. One particular person.

Bucky really thinks that’s the end of their conversation, their own way of saying see you around , but instead a voice catches him when he turns around, “I’m just telling the truth, baby.”

Naturally, he turns back, but now Sam’s got his back turned.

Funny, how they keep going back and forth like that. Watching, even when the other isn’t looking. He knows he’s been doing that a lot, there’s no denying it.

A feeling in his hand, the way it twitches, makes Bucky feel like this might be a new moment.

“Wilson!”

He doesn’t really wait for a reaction before following. Like the moth. Meant to follow. When Sam stops, he stops. Then, reaches over the shield in the man’s grasp and lets his fingers touch the nape of Sam’s neck.

Bucky half-expects him to push him away, but the shorter man kisses him back immediately, and that makes him want to smile. So he does.

It’s short, close-mouthed, the softest experience he’s ever had. Soft lips, stubble meeting, even if the shield pokes his stomach, doesn’t matter.

When Bucky draws back, Sam’s grinning like an idiot.

He also lifts an expectant eyebrow, like he’s waiting for him to explain himself. Maybe say some romantic bullshit, but he’s scared the words will fail him. Too focused on the other man’s Adam's apple when he swallows, too busy counting his eyelashes, so he doesn’t forget.

Bucky doesn’t want to forget anything about Sam, ever, for the life of him.

He adjusts the bag on his shoulder, before giving the man one last smile. Sam looks weirdly proud of him. “It’s for luck.”

Bucky guesses a kiss is the sort of thing you talk about, but the mission at hand doesn’t allow much talking. He manages to hear Sam’s speech, grab every word and hide it within him and completely pretend he didn’t. The other man knows his bullshitting, again.

“Great job, Cap,” he tries to smile, showing his teeth, like Sam. The man next to him eyes him curiously, for the first time since Bucky met him, looking endearingly shy.

He still laughs, sounding almost like a song Bucky’s trying to remember, “It’s Cap now?”

“Obviously.”

And given Sharon’s wound, he can’t stick around, but the text he receives about a party at the Wilsons, a cookout, that doesn’t surprise him, actually. Doesn’t surprise him that he’d go to Louisiana in a heartbeat and pick up the cake Sarah asked for, even if it slides around in the carseat and doesn’t look all that appetizing when he arrives.

The Wilson siblings roll their eyes at him. They both smile. Sam looks like the sun.

Bucky’s so busy being overrun with kids staring at his left arm that he doesn’t notice Sam slipping out of the group. If it makes him panic just a little not knowing where he was, well, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

The shorter man hasn’t gone far though. He’s looking out at the water, the sunset.

It’s pretty. Looks prettier when Sam stands there.

He knows, he knows he’s not damn good with communication. The other man told him so himself. But he can’t stop trying, even if it feels like he’ll swallow his tongue.

Sam doesn’t acknowledge him when he comes up behind him, not at first, but Bucky thinks about his easy smile and red shirt and the lines in his palm and the ghost of his lips on his when he says the first feeling that comes to mind.

“I hate everyone else in the world, but you.”

It makes the other man chuckle and turn his face towards him. When he smiles hard, really, really hard, his warm eyes crinkle at the corners.

There’s a small birthmark on Sam’s throat, he notices. And one on his earlobe.

“Really?” he asks, as if it’s up for discussion.

“Yeah.”

Then that smugness returns like a charm with the comment, “So you like me more than Steve?”

And he would be annoyed, but his own smile is kind of preventing that feeling to surface. “I hate Steve,” he answers, with a certainty that surprises them both. Sam’s tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Then, “You liked Natasha, though,” and Bucky wants to roll his eyes so goddamn badly, which is clearly what the other man was looking for. He thinks he finds him adorable. The pink hue of the sky touches his being so perfectly. Hazy eyes, teeth nearly gleaming in the light.

“No, I mean what I said,” and Bucky knows what’s coming, of course he does, “But you can’t not like Rhodey, I mean...”

Sam is so fucking ridiculous. He doesn’t ever want him to stop making him smile like this.

“Sam, please, I’m trying to-” but Bucky doesn’t quite get to finish that sentence. Not because the other man interrupts him, at least not with his lips, which he wouldn’t complain about, or his words, but because both of Sam’s hands come up to cradle his face in the most tender fashion. He thinks he might be going crazy.

So he just looks at the man for a minute. Contemplating how loud his beauty is, how much love is in his eyes and how it’s somehow directed at himself. It feels overwhelmingly peaceful.

And Bucky feels Sam’s breath on his cheeks before they connect their lips again. Long overdue. His tongue tastes like coffee and butterscotch.

When they pull apart, the shorter man bumps their noses together. Bucky quite gladly could stay like this forever.

Then Sam asks, an unspoken conclusion, but voices the question regardless, because, well. He’s pretty sure they both need it, “You plan on sticking around?”

This smiling thing is kind of straining Bucky’s jaw. He’ll get used to it.

“Don’t even need to ask, sweetheart.”

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