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#bucky x reader angst
fictivefrolic · 3 hours ago
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Mission of Mercy: Thirty-Five
Bucky wasn’t sure what the fuck your mother was trying to accomplish, but he knew she wasn’t doing it. You were using the same tone of voice you used with Rookies who were having a breakdown.  And that Bucky assumed you used with clients in an old life.
There was too much chatter for him to clearly make out the words. The clink and clatter of glasses and cutlery and the low, buzzing hum of conversation. Ostensibly, this was a celebratory dinner. One that you’d organized without telling your mom it was a celebration. And now, after the announcement, you were standing off to the side trying to coax her into coming back to the table. Because of all things, your mother was furious that you were using a family heirloom as your engagement ring. 
Because it should have been Clay’s. But mostly because it had never been given to Rex to give to her. Rex had, evidently, told her it had been lost instead of telling her that his mother just forbade him to use it. 
Joe glanced to the side and cringed slightly, “Sorry, kid,” he sighed, “I didn’t know it would cause this much of a fuss.”
Bucky smiled a little and let the waited refill his glass, “It’s not like you could have known… Y/N either for that matter.”
“Still-” but whatever he meant to say, was cut off when he saw you walking back towards the table with your mom.
“Everything okay?” Natasha asked, stepping on Steve’s foot to keep him from getting up to pull out Carlie’s chair. 
“Fine,” you say brightly, giving her a meaningful look over your mom shoulder. 
“It isn’t,” Carlie argued, “It isn’t yours.”
“Carlie,” Joe cut in over you, “Margie didn’t like you. Nobody did. And, at the time you and Rex got married my wife was still wearing it.” The old man sounded tired. He hated that this was being discussed in public. “I gave it to the boy because Clay is dead. I figured it made sense for Y/N to use it now… And if they ever have a son she can gift it to him.”
Carlie made an irritated sound and Bucky heard you mutter, “Mom, you’re making a scene. No stop.” And there was a sudden little bit of calm. It swept through the table like a cool breeze on a hot still day.
“I hate it when you do that,” she snapped. Still obviously irritated. “It’s creepy.”
And for the first time, Bucky realized that you didn’t change a person’s emotions. You just changed their perception. 
“I like it,” Steve said helpfully. Bucky nodded in agreement and hoped Steve or Sam would have something to add. 
“Xanax doesn’t work on supersoldiers,” Sam said stage whispering to Carlie.
“Really?”
Steve and Bucky both nodded. And then it happened. 
Things went from bad to worse. And like the barometer you are, you saw it coming but couldn’t do anything about it.
“She’s an asset on missions,” Steve said trying to be helpful. And three Identical gasps. From Sam, From Joe, and from Carlie, clued Steve in that he had made a horrible, terrible mistake.
“On missions?” Carlie said rounding on you, “I thought you worked at the hospital.”
“I do,” you say, taking a sip of your champagne, “Part time.”
“You lied to me?”
The ear splitting screech caused both supersoldiers to wince and several other dinner parties to turn and glare.
“To avoid exactly this conversation,” you say calmly. Bucky knows you don’t feel calm. He can see the tension ratcheting down on your body. Ready to run. He puts an arm around the back of your chair and squeezes your shoulder.
When she raised her hand to slap you ,you catch her wrist, “Stop.” Your voice never rose, it was still the same calm tone.
“Ma’am your daughter is a hero,” Steve tried. 
But when it was clear you weren’t going to bow to her tirades she twisted her wrist out of your grip and swatted her drink at you, spattering your face, your dress, Bucky and Joe with the gin and tonic she had been drinking. You sat stock still and didn’t turn your head as she stormed off  but you did take the napkin Sam proffered to get the liquor off your face.
“Excuse me,” you say quietly, standing and turning the opposite direction she’d gone. Heading towards the washroom. And Natasha follows with both of your bags quickly. She isn't sure what exactly you have in your bag to fix your make up but she says a silent thank you to the creator of waterproof mascara. 
Bucky watches helplessly for a minute and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Thanks, Steve.”
“She called her creepy,” Steve said, offended on your behalf.
Joe chuckled bitterly, “Son,” he said, “That’s mild. And nothing compared to the earful she’s gonna get.” The old man shook his head and pushed his plate away. Sam looked towards where your mother was standing outside waiting for someone to chase after her. To soothe her wounded feelings.
“Are you gonna-”
“Nope,” Bucky said, not turning.
“Buck-” Steve started, not really sure what he wants to say but knowing that Bucky looks livid.
“Stop helping,” Sam said quietly, watching Joe pat the brunette’s shoulder. 
Bucky turned and looked at the old man and he smiled a little, “Give her a few minutes to get herself calmed down.” Bucky nodded and took a deep breath. 
“Well this wasn’t how I wanted the night to go,” he said dabbing at his shirt with the napkin Steve handed him and handing one to Joe. “Do the melt downs ever get less dramatic?”
“Nope.”
Bucky watched Carlie start back inside and stood, “Excuse me, gentlemen. I’m about to go put the fear of god in this woman.”
____
You pause at the door of the washroom, looking towards the window. “What’s Bucky doing?” you ask, lips bloodless. So far you’d managed to keep them mostly separated. Your mother required careful handling and you’d built a pleasant little fiction for her about your life.
“I don’t know,” Natasha said quietly, looking to where Bucky’s co-conspirators appeared to be pretending nothing was happening. She handed the glass a helpful waitress had given her to another waitress and linked her arm through yours. 
“Chin up, tits out, I suppose,” you mutter letting her lead you to the table. You kiss Joe on the cheek and take the chair Sam is holding for you.
“What’s going on?” Natasha asked. 
Joe cleared his throat and took a sip of his beer, “Tin Man out there is giving Carlie the tongue lashing she deserves I  imagine.” When you make a strangled sound and start to get up, Joe puts a hand on your arm. “Sunshine,” he said quietly, “You sit right there. People have been kowtowing to her shit since you were a baby. But now you’re grown and there’s no way for her to hold you over all our heads. This has been a long time coming.”
_______
Carlie turned to face Bucky, expecting her future son-in-law to give her a sympathetic ear. She sniffled pathetically and Bucky had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “What the fuck,” he asked quietly, “Do you think you’re doing?”
The woman in front of him drew herself up to his full height and glared at him “Don’t you dare-”
“I will dare. And I’ll tell you this. You ever talk to my wife like that again and I’ll personally make sure that you never see her again. We’re not playing the poor me game any more. You think you’re the only one at that table that’s ever been lied to? Ever lost somebody?” He took a deep breath and half a step forward making Carlie move back out of the walk way and closer to the wall. 
“You don’t know how hard it is,” she spat.
“No- I only spent 70 years as a mind controlled zombie while everyone I ever loved thought I was dead. Carlie, no one wins the misery olympics.”
“I raised-”
“Everyone else raised,” he corrected. “They raised those kids while you wallowed and treated Y/N like she was a freak. Do you know why Y/N joined SHIELD?”
Carlie didn’t answer. She wouldn’t even look at Bucky.
“She took the job because she thought it was her one chance to find Clay and bring him home.”
The woman looked up and he shook his head. “She talks about him like he’s in the next room. Everything she’s ever done she’s been competing with your ghosts. And I’m not going to let her anymore.”
He hailed a cab for her and turned, taking a deep breath. He had more he wanted to say but he just couldn’t. He was so angry that he was liable to say something he couldn’t take back. So he left. Leaving her to decide where she was going and to go and kiss you until he didn’t want to shake your mother until her teeth rattled.
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gurtysworld · 6 hours ago
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Taglist
Decided to post series here so they don’t get lost
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Fred Weasley
Angst
Bad Timing, Part 2 Comfortwriting 
A Summer Secret, Part 2 Comfortwriting
A Triwizard Baby, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Comfortwriting
Contemplation Futurewriter2000
Hold On Futurewriter2000
Love hurts Futurewriter2000
Call out my name Comfortwriting
George Weasley
Angst
Because I hate you the most Futurewriter2000
Really don’t know what to call this... Angst to fluff 
Meet me at cabin 12 Wand3ringr0s3
Best friends brother, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Comfortwriting
Ron Weasley
Angst
Heather Hellounicorn
Fluffy angst
A walk to remember, Part 2 Comfortwriting
James Potter
Angst
Light and dark valentineforlemonandcherry
If I cant have you nobody can Futurewriter2000
Almost Perfect Futurewriter2000
If only I had stayed in the shadows Ghostwriter 
Mr perfectly fine Ginnydrinkstea
Jolene, Part 2 Mnachopsis 
Scotty doesn't know Mnachopsis
Meet me in the hallway Eunoniaa 
Ophelia Futurewriter2000
Sirius black
Angst
Twin size matress Salemsbones
Illicit Affairs Thotbutpurple
JJ Maybank
Angst 
I know you’re obsessed with me Rootingformybaby
Bucky Barnes
Angst
Light of my life, Part 2 Angrythingstarlight
Can’t tell yet
His Favorite Gal Teawiththeweasleys
Charlie Dalton
Fluff kinda sadish
Sweet Rebels Futurewriter2000
The Darkling 
The allure of darkness lupinbrekker 
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bvccy · 7 hours ago
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Nothing to Despair | 21. On which my ruins rest
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: More smut, some dark!Bucky, bondage (handcuffs), sweet dirty talk, lingerie kink, fingering, a bit of petplay (kitten!reader), frottage, breeding kink, creampie, and cockwarming. Actually very tender lovemaking and, in spite of appearances, fully consensual. I know I've been spamming you with porn these chapters 😂 Thank you for all your comments and support! 💖 Beta-read by @offcast-plus1​ <3
WORD COUNT: 5.3k
⸻ [MASTERLIST] [AO3] [TAGLIST]
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Lyde was not so dear to Antimachus, nor Bittis so loved by her Philetas, as you, my wife, clinging to my heart, worthy of a happier, not truer husband. You’re the support on which my ruins rest, if I’m still anyone, it’s all your gift. — Ovid, Tristia, His Wife: Her Immortality
They went out for a late lunch, and took their time with a two-course meal, dessert, drinks. Sweetened by pastries and hot tea, and softened toward him of her own will, Bucky had never felt more at ease around her, more comfortable and happy and at home, and he could see her turning shy every time she looked at him and saw how lovingly he looked at her, with his big dumb smile and crinkled eyes. Had anyone else looked at her like that before? He hoped not.
Thanks to a confusion with their orders, they got into conversation with another couple sitting next to them, and after they switched the plates between their tables, they introduced themselves. The elderly pair were vacationing Britons, Cecil and Pippa Monday. They went on a cruise every once in a while, or on some camping trip or mountain climbing or some other great adventure. Cecil was a jovial type, completely grey and a bit fat, and in spite of some joint pain, and growing hard of hearing in one ear, and having to keep track of a host of different pills to take, he seemed happier than anyone they'd met in a long time. Pippa was a little different — though equally grey and plump, she had a tough, imperial air, her swollen wrists and digits tastefully bejewelled, holding the cutlery very precisely in her manicured fingers, and smelling finely of perfume.
The girl eyed Bucky warily as he introduced them — caught on the spot, he used the same identities as from the mission, because that's what their passports said and it was the cautious thing to do. She could note a frown of sadness as he used the names, in all their bitter history, but she reached out and held his hand, and the warm smile he gave as he turned to look at her made up for it.
They went out for a walk afterwards, all four together, strolling on the decks. Mr. Monday taking pictures, Pippa posing now and then. Although she was, at times, commanding, the two got along uniquely well, and whether from getting used to each other over the years or just their natures fitting together in the right way, they seemed steady as a rock. They walked ahead, slowly, with Bucky and his wife behind, and as the girl looked at them waddling along, holding hands like schoolchildren, talking and supporting and admiring each other with every little chat or evening plan or snapping of a picture, something in her heart began to ache. Why couldn't she have that? How come it could happen to other people and not her? Could it happen to her? Just as she struggled with the ugly fear, she felt Bucky's warm hand caress her back.
He trailed his palm up and down her stiff length of spine, to remind himself that she was there and his and he was right by her side, as he watched the snowy lovebirds up ahead. Thanks to the rotten mission and their circumstances, he'd been robbed of the opportunity to introduce them as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes for the first time. And now, he could just about hear as the Mondays — a well-meaning and wholesome pair — speculated with a bit of pity and concern about them. It hadn't escaped their notice how the names stuck in Bucky's throat, and how nervous his girl became, and now they thought they were —
"Going through something awful…"
"Must be."
"Probably divorce or the like."
"They're a bit too young for that."
"Well, you know, my dear. These days…"
— and he hated their pity, the suspicion that anything was wrong, and even the ghost of the thought of her abandoning him filled Bucky with cold anger.
From the corner of his eye, he caught her looking up at him, and so he let his face relax as he looked down and hummed in question. She shook her head but kept inspecting the lines of his face with worry. The hand trailed up her back to hold her neck and the other one came, hard and cold and gloved but gentler than anything, to brush some wind-swept tendrils from her face. Moments like these, when she seemed to have genuine concern for him, always overflowed his heart with love, and like a reflex he asked — heard his own voice whisper, rather — if everything was alright, and this time he didn't call her "doll" or "darling" but he used her name — more than her name: a littler version of it, the natural pet name that was hers.
It almost didn't register in her head when he said it, but as she caught up with what she heard, her eyes widened and she shivered under a rushing of hot blood. He'd never called her anything like that, nobody had, not since her friends at university — except, of course, her mother. It wasn't special, but it was so rarely used it had a deeper air of intimacy. She smiled instinctively and bit her lip at the little tenderness he put in saying it, and seeing her reaction, his face bloomed into a grin.
"Yes, I'm alright," she whispered back through a shy smile. "Are you?"
He stopped their walk, and held her face, and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Never better." He raised his face from her before she could kiss back, so instead she turned her head and reached the hand that held her shoulder, and so kissed that instead.
The Mondays felt them stop, somehow, and stopped as well to look at them. Perhaps this somewhat allayed their more sombre speculations.
After they were done with their sight-seeing, Bucky thought it might be safer if they bought some takeaway for dinner rather than go out again, and the girl didn't argue. They were back in their suite in the early evening, when the sky was still pink and all the nearby rooms were empty.
He stowed the food they bought in the little fridge, then poured himself a drink while he watched. She moved gingerly, taking her clothes off and folding them too, while her husband sat in an armchair and sipped his whiskey. The girl acted as if he wasn't there, and though it might not have been her intention, it incited him even more. She was down to her lingerie when he told her to stop.
"Stay like this for a while, honey," he said, getting up and starting to take his own clothes off while he fixed her with his eyes. His wife straightened up but didn't move away, waiting for him by the desk and watching, rather bravely for her, as he hurriedly undressed. "Take just the slip off, now," he husked once he was down to his briefs, and pulled those off as well.
She obeyed quietly, seeming almost curious, but still let her hair fall to cover her, as there was no bra underneath. Bucky walked to her, slowly, and rested a hand on her hip, the other brushing her hair away so he could admire her more. He seemed almost pleased, but then he thought of something, and with a smirk asked her one more thing:
"Why don't you put your carnelians on? They look so nice on you."
She eyed him warily and parted her lips, almost ready to argue, before she decided against it. Slipping out of his hands, the girl went to the jewellery box and uncoiled the necklace from there. She didn't like the way he licked his lips and bit the fleshy lower one as she put it on, and as it slipped around her neck, she couldn't help but wryly quip:
"If you like them so much, maybe you should be wearing them."
"You're so mean to me," Bucky laughed, low and a little breathless from the sight. "Why are you always mean to me?"
He didn't seem upset, in spite of how his question was somewhat justified, so she jokingly replied, "It's how I express affection."
"Well then," he chuckled, stepping closer, "I'm madly in love with you too." Her smile died a little, and she looked back down just when he reached and grabbed her again, his hands cradling her hips pulling her gently forward. "You know I am… I wasn't joking," he whispered and kissed the top of her head, expecting some resistance because he knew she didn't like to hear it, even though he still didn't understand why. She stood stiffly in front of him and looked downward with no focus, and let him pull her deeper in the room, then to their bedroom, and shut the lights. "You were so sweet earlier," he murmured as he softly felt her waist. "What happened?"
"Too much… I reached my limit, I guess," she shrugged, and didn't have to specify what exactly was too much, because by now, though he couldn't name it either, he knew.
"Just relax."
"Easy for you to say."
"And let me take care of you."
"I don't want it."
"We talked about this. What did I tell you about wanting?" he growled, coiling the metal fingers around her neck in a loose hold and making her, finally, look at him. "You don't have to want, you just have to take it."
"Who's being mean now?"
Bucky sighed and searched her face, mellowing only a little. "Guess this is how I express affection."
She gave him a spiteful glance, daring him to squeeze harder, but she couldn't hold it long because his other hand moved to pull her panties off. She immediately grabbed his wrist, but it did nothing to stop him, and Bucky inched the garment off first one hip, then the other, until they were low enough to fall away. Holding the girl still with the metal arm, Bucky looked down at her, his dream come true in living flesh. Her chest peeked out from beneath her hair, the red gems sat like bloodstains on her skin, and that soft feminine triangle between her legs was framed beautifully by the garter straps. He was hard in seconds, his manhood pointing at what it wanted, and he felt her squirm and clutch the metal wrist trying to get away — probably more out of habit than anything else.
"Haven't you had enough?" she hissed.
Bucky dragged his gaze up her body and asked with a smirk, "Does it look like I've had enough?"
He pulled her to him by the jaw and tilted her head up for a kiss pure and gentle, and all the warmer for it, because underneath, her body rubbed against his, her chest to his, and his member up the length of her abdomen. His flesh hand kneaded her hips and moved to her lower back to pull her closer.
"How about I treat you nice tonight?" Bucky asked once his lips left her, so close he spoke right against them.
"I think we have a different idea of what that means," she muttered, looking at his chin to avoid the chill of his eyes.
"I know you want to be let go, darling," he sighed, pressing one short kiss into her upper lip, "but it's not good for you."
"Not good?!" she bit back, outraged enough to look up at him.
"You need to see that it's alright to be made love to. You need to trust me with that."
Her body was unmoving against his, but he still felt her bristle through the rasping of her tone. "I don't need anything. I don't need you. I was fine before."
Bucky's jaw tightened. It hurt every time she said it, it never got easier to hear her talk like that, but he reminded himself that he knew where she was coming from. He'd thought the same thoughts and felt the same feelings. He wasn't all that different, which made it easier, made her dearer to him than anyone in spite of these times when she sunk her little fangs in the hand he extended.
"You think you were, cause you'd been that way so long. Cause no one ever thought to take care of you before. Am I right?" He searched her eyes and was met with only a frown and an even harder glare. "But you don't have to go through life alone, doll. It's ok to need other people."
"Touching. Got that one from your shrink?"
It was sometimes easy to forget that she was Hydra.
Bucky's hand tightened ever so slightly around her neck as he thought back to how open and loving she'd been that morning, when he'd just asked her to be a prop for his self-pleasure. And now, at the mere suggestion of him pleasing her, she bit back with everything she knew could hurt him. She wasn't as subtle as she thought.
"Lay down on the bed," he growled. "On your front."
That got her eyes to widen slightly. When he released her she hesitated for a second, but slowly complied, climbing in bed as she was and making herself into a tight straight line with her forehead in the pillows, her eyes closed, her arms curled beneath her. She stayed still in waiting for him, and only jumped a little when she felt Bucky grab her foot: he had the handcuffs now, and secured her legs together at the ankles.
"What are you doing?" she fearfully asked, bracing herself on the bed on two tense arms to stare at him.
"Be a good wife and do as you're told, honey."
She slowly laid back down and waited. Soon enough, Bucky got in behind her and moved them both to lay on their side, his naked skin burning down her back, from his breath at the nape of her neck all the way down to her legs. He slipped his metal arm beneath the pillows while his flesh one rested on her hip. The girl inhaled sharply, then breathed it out slow and deep, and didn't fuss. He was breaking her in and she knew it, but it was hard to find the energy to fight back when there was no escape. His hand moved gently across her skin, more in teasing than in shyness, and then it moved forward and lower. She gripped it and tried, uselessly, to scratch across his skin, but it did nothing to stop him — worse, he seemed to like it.
"That's it, kitten, sink your claws in me…" She felt his member brush up against her thigh, just lightly, before he started thrusting against her skin, while in front his fingers pet the surface of her mound. "What a fierce kitty I've found," he moaned in her ear, and chuckled when she squirmed in his embrace and sunk her nails in harder. "Vicious little stray that nobody else wanted, isn't that right?"
His wife sunk her head forward, away from his whispers and hot breath and the deeply hurtful way he framed her life. She grit her teeth in useless anger and tried to ignore him, though she could think of a thousand biting things to say, while her feet shifted the little distance they could in discomfort, rattling the handcuffs. Bucky threw one leg over them to quiet her down.
"Yes, nobody wants a kitty that bites and scratches, do they? That doesn't want to be pet," he cooed, and felt her hand relent on his wrist, falling limply down while his fingers threaded from the top of her womanhood down to where he felt her dampening with each long, slow caress. "But you know what, honey?" he rasped into her skin, grinning with real gladness as he thrusted in broader arches against her thighs while his fingers teased her front. "I'm grateful nobody's wanted you before."
She jerked her elbow back at hearing that, managing to hit his ribs with one clumsy thrust. "That isn't true, you bastard," she gritted out.
"Ooh?" asked Bucky in a sing-song voice, surprised at her outburst of emotion. He should've guessed that hitting her pride would work. "Is that so?"
"Yes." She settled back down in his embrace and let him cuddle her again, feeling his member burn and throb against her skin while his fingers went back to their slow, maddening work. "I've been proposed to three times. Just always said no."
"Well… Glad I wasn't number four then," Bucky grinned, his smile tight and bright, hiding behind it the same homicidal instinct that had ended Hamelin — these men weren't a threat anymore (and he didn't know who they were anyway).
"You didn't exactly give me much of a choice," she muttered, turning to glare over her shoulder at him. "Look at you, you're not even sorry."
"Not one bit," he said, tilting his head and leaning down to her. She closed her eyes and let him do it, taking one teasingly light kiss after another while he pulled her against his front ever tighter, using her again to pleasure himself. His fingers had caused her to relax and open up a bit, but the way he kissed her — seemingly quick and chaste but so playful and desirous — made her pulse like nothing else. Bucky parted from her with a moan and whispered, "Can you part your legs a bit, sweetheart?"
She looked into his eyes and did so, too afraid to ask what he wanted to do. He held her gaze and lifted his hand from her, moving it behind to manoeuvre his hard hot manhood right between her thighs, and left it there. Her lips parted in surprise and he drank in the sight, grey eyes focused on her kiss-swollen mouth open in wonder while he eased her legs back together, and started thrusting. The tip of him peeked out from just below her mound, above the edges of her stockings, then was dragged back in when he pulled away, then out again. Once she understood, she tightened her legs even more, squeezing his length against her soft skin. Bucky's head fell forward one unguarded second in a hungry moan, before he opened his eyes and looked back down at her, tight and trapped and timid, but excited — he could feel how much right on the skin around his member. He felt how wet he made her, how she pulsed and her hips tilted — poor thing, he'd teased her enough, she needed a little something too. He moved from the heat of her thighs and swollen lips out into the cold of the room, while she got damper all around and kept squeezing him, using him to please herself as he used her. Her head rested heavily on the pillows, tilted slightly back into his chest, eyes closed while she bit her lip and Bucky kissed her shoulder. His hand stayed on her hip to guide her movements, but his eyes were focused on her arching chest.
"Look at those tight little peaks, darling," he purred, "and I haven't even touched you there." She winced and tried to curl back into him, but didn't even have time to bring her hands up to cover herself before he brought a finger up to tease her — just up and down the surface of one breast, at first, then lingering to touch the hardened peak so lightly she almost didn't feel it, but a deeper part of her did. "I love how sensitive you are," he whispered in her ear, his fingers playing with her while he thrust faster and pressed his front against her for a little longer every time. "Everything is too much, isn't it? After long years of nothing." He bent and leaned down to press a kiss to her tip, and didn't mind her bringing her arm up to push him away — he stayed right there and kissed it again, the gentleness making up for the rough way he was moving between her legs. "I know what that's like, sweetheart," he murmured. "It's like that for me too. Or was, before you."
She groaned under his attentions and shifted away from his lips, though it was no use. He followed her body and kept kissing, lapping now and then while he looked into her eyes, stopping to sigh from a particularly pleasurable thrust, then calm himself down and start again with kisses as light and tender as the ones he gave her mouth. It made her burn inside and out, and she tried to focus on the thought of what, in spite of her discomfort, this might have meant for him. If she was going to be good, which she wanted to be, she knew she had to let him get what he wanted — even if getting meant giving. And he gave without considering that she didn't know what to do with it, where to place these new unusual feelings and the growing knowledge that he was pleasured, happy, pleased, because of her.
Thinking back to their first time, her hips canted back into him on instinct — he noticed, and nibbled at her skin just slightly with a smirk and an approving moan — and she could finally allow herself to be flattered that she'd made him spill within minutes. It felt as much her conquest over him, as his; her vanity was satisfied. She had never imagined she could do that to a man, certainly not to one as big and brutal and rugged as he, who seemed to move through the world as if he owned it — because, with his excessive strength and skills, he probably could — and underneath the storm of feelings he was teasing out of her, a small battle raged between the hope that he wanted her, and the fear that he was lying.
"I need to be inside you again," he said with urgency. "Are you gonna let me?"
She looked back at him and almost paused in motions as she felt him throb and tremble, his skin sticking to her back and his breath coming out harsh and fast. His eyes looked pained and begging, and she couldn't say no, but she wouldn't say yes either, so she nodded. Bucky smirked and bit his lip as he looked over her flushed face, and in the warm and husky voice he got when he felt loving, asked:
"You want it before or… after?"
"B— first one." Why did I say that.
"Before?" he said with a bright, incredulous grin. Bucky got up from behind her and kneeled on the bed, lifting her legs and tilting them to the side together, holding them in the crook of his metal elbow while he placed himself where he wanted to be. She clung to the bedsheets but allowed him to move her around, keeping her eyes on his and not to what he was doing. "You want to finish with me inside a'you, doll?" he asked in a teasingly low voice.
He was more than ready to slip into her, and she'd been ready for the longest time, the tops of her stockings ruined with wet, so it was easy for him to join with his little wife. Her eyes closed as the feeling of it — not too painful, but discomforting enough to feel right — and her head fell back lazily, making room for Bucky to lean in and kiss her neck while he slowly settled in place. His hand fell by her side to brace himself and trap her in, instinctively afraid that she would move away — not that she could run anywhere, he'd made sure of it on purpose — and between being held up like that, and kissed, and taken, the same old overwhelming feeling came and all her promises of patience and duty fell apart.
"You don't have to hide," he cooed once he saw her cover her face with her hands and tilt away, as far as she could from him. "You don't have to be shy around your husband."
His gentle pleas turned into moans the deeper he went, then into whimpers of her name, and praises of how good she was, how warm, how soft, how perfect as his arms tightened around her, and then her name again, her pet name, and how she was his, only his, finally his. It didn't take long for her to undo him this time either, especially since she was a bit more relaxed and opened up, and though Bucky tried to thrust less deeply, less quickly than he wanted, he was at the very edge of his restraint. He wanted to see her face, but she was turned away and had covered her eyes with one hand, biting the thumb of the other, neck arched with the strain of pulling away from him. Her hips were pliant, docile, tamed — he could do whatever he wanted with that part of her, but he wanted everything. His arm stretched along her legs to push them closer, tighter, with him still inside and aching, while above he stretched to kiss the length of her from clavicle to cheekbone. He whispered her name against her blushing skin, and pleaded, and against her mutter of moans and whimpers asked:
"Tell me you love me." She winced as if struck and her every muscle froze, mouth going limp and losing its grip on her finger, hand slipping from her eyes, but inside he felt her throbbing. She seemed to be considering it. "You don't have to mean it…" he bargained, and the thought pained him so much he couldn't look at her. Bucky's head rested on her chest, where he could be with the cage that held her spirit and closed his eyes against it, forgetting everything else. "Please, doll…"
"I can't," she gasped, heaving pained breaths now that he'd settled inside her, as deep as he could reach and almost deeper, and refused to move or let her get away.
"You don't?"
"I can't say it."
He sighed into her skin, his anger at her turning very quickly into anger at himself, disappointment, the bitterness of failure, and after swallowing the lump in his throat, Bucky moved back off her. He held her by the hip, bending the legs tighter into her body with his metal arm so that he could see all of her: from the curled up little feet trapped in the handcuffs, up the lovely limbs in sheer black stockings that ended at her thighs — stained and very, very damp — and her derriere framed by the garters that dug into her flesh, and the point where he stretched and entered her. The scent of his wife was sweet and feminine and a bit salty and threaded with what was left of her perfume, and the sound of her once he started moving deep, hard, unforgiving — how she moaned and whined and could barely form the words to beg — that was what finally undid him. He grit his teeth and took in her body as he used it, then settled deeply, spilling all he had, and stayed there. Bucky didn't allow himself to moan or whimper or say any other useless thing, not anymore. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, careful not to grip her too tightly or press her legs down harder, though she winced and tried to wriggle from his grasp. He kept himself in her through his softening while he put a bit of pressure with his hand just on the other side, on her lower stomach. As he started moving his hand slightly, he felt one hot paw press against his hip.
"What are you doing?" she whined.
Bucky tilted his head back down to look at her, licking his lips at the wrecked sight of his girl, flushed and tousled and panting, her hand timidly touching his skin, eyes just slightly teary and burning into his while she tried very hard not to look at the sweaty rest of him. He gently leaned in and caged her in his arms, still mindful of her legs and the point where they were joined, and looked through the damp strands of hair that fell in his eyes to lowly growl:
"Sit still. Need to open you up, want it to take."
Her eyes widened — in fear? disgust? despair? — but she laid back down and let him. She tried to settle a bit more comfortably, but still huffed in frustration at being used, plugged up. He was hot inside of her, and though she was already burning from the friction, he warmed her up even more. With his eyes fixed on hers he started moving his hand again, palm flat and heavy, pleasuring her from inside and out. And when he found a spot that caused a shudder through her whole body, her look of apprehension melted into something new. He grinned and started focusing on it, moving his hips — because she made him harden again already — and finally she gave him the moans he wanted: loud and surprised and pained. And she looked up at him with such a large and open gaze, so sad, so pleading, as if she finally felt wanted and understood what it meant.
Breath by panting breath, she fell apart under his hand. Bucky felt her shudder then relax, saw her legs tensing in the rhythm of her moans while deep inside she pulsed and squeezed his length into another weak orgasm. Slivers of him were just beginning to seep from where he entered her, but there wasn't enough room for much of it to escape. Her own hand came up to cover her mouth in a limp attempt to stop herself from being louder, but it was useless. Her head tilted back, tangling her loose hair more, and she closed her eyes dreamily. Bucky gave her that pause while he just looked at her, almost forgetting about the furnace that encased him, but then she winced and said his name.
"Let me go… Bucky, let me go," she whispered, looking back up at him. It took him a second to realise what she was talking about. "My legs are starting to hurt."
He felt so good in her that he hesitated, then wanted to kick himself for it. You really are a piece of work, Barnes. Wordlessly, he nodded and slipped himself from her, then slowly laid her legs back down on the bed before going to the nightstand where the keys were. He unlocked the handcuffs and took a moment to massage her ankles and cold feet, but she didn't seem too much in pain. The stockings were ruined, but it didn't matter. Without her asking, he unclasped her garter belt and peeled the lingerie off her, then went up to undo the necklace as well. She laid quietly in bed and let him take everything off her, keeping her gaze on his face and waiting for him to look back — when he did, he could only hold it briefly, and she wondered if the ache she saw there was because of her, or… Of course it is, it always is. As soon as Bucky was done, she turned on her side and curled up while he went to put away her ruined garments and the jewels, and get a cloth to clean them both up.
He almost didn't want to go back to bed with her when he was done, but for once she actually asked for him. She didn't seem upset with the mess he'd made of her, or her aches or bruises. She stretched out her hand, pulled him in, and laid her head on his chest.
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savemesomenachos · 7 hours ago
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Writing Update!!!
Since I’ll be doing the 200 followers drabble list for a short time (Undecided), I will be giving those drabbles priority. I have 2 pending fics in my ask box which I will complete at a later time but I have seen them. Thank you for all the love lovelies!!!🌸✨
You can find the link to my drabble list here
You can find my other works on my Main Masterlist
TAGLIST:-
Permanent: @julyvegan @tenaciousperfectionunknown@mysweetlittledesire @bbl32 @noshame-bb @cece5 @white-wolf1940 @marvelfansworld @jassiejj2118 @sohosteve @sia2raw@honeymarvel @hart-failure @Clints-worldavengers
Stucky: @spookyparadisesheep
If you wanna be tagged in my works, lemme know here
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teebarnes · 8 hours ago
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🌿 | Happy Anniversary
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're coming home to celebrate your 2nd anniversary with Bucky when something goes wrong, you both celebrate a little later than expected.
Word Count: 4.6k
Warning(s): car accident, swearing, blood, floooooof and poor writing (sorry in advance).
A/N: This is the first time I am actually posting anything I've actually written. I have very unrealistic ideas of love (you can thank MCU for my high standards of men), so my writing is the result of that. I hope you enjoy. (GIF is not my own).
Any feedback, likes & reblogs etc are much appreciate 🥰
“Good morning, doll”…
A month ago...
It was blooming in the afternoon as you drove down the rural area of your home city, New York. Driving home to the place you shared with your boyfriend, an avenger, a secret agent. You were a normal young lady who worked a nine to five job down at the VA where you had met your best friend Sam Wilson; he was the one who introduced you to Bucky Barnes, who you'd instantly fall in love with. It was your standard drive, nothing more, it was around mid-day, both you and Bucky were coming home to celebrate your second anniversary.
Smiling as you jammed to your favourite playlist while shading your eyes with sunnies. The lights turned red at the intersection, slowing down to stop at the red light harbouring above you, carefully watching for it to go green. You were tapping away on your matte driving wheel, humming to Bucky and your favourite song.
Green.
Your foot letting go of the brake, you move into the lane, moments flashed before your eyes suddenly colliding with another vehicle, ripping you out of your body for a few seconds before you quickly sunk back in. Pain rushed to your side as your body sat limp in the driver's seat of your car; the watch on your wrist alarmed the ambulances, People rushing left, right and centre to pull you out.
You laid on the floor of the open road, with a few people surrounding you as you felt something wet stream from your waist, then a sudden eruption of air locked in your chest made you gasp for air. Your eyes begin to flutter in and out of consciousness, the ringing in your ears filtered out the voices trying to keep you from dozing out. "HEY! HEY! HEY! Please stay awake. The ambulance is nearly here," a woman shouted as another bystander was applying pressure to your side, trying to stop the flow of blood. Hearing the ambulance siren you nodded lightly to the woman helping you, but your mind strayed from reality for a bit.
~
Bucky was on his way home with Sam because he didn't really have his license yet, the usual routine of you dropping him to work and Sam dropping him home. The pair of them laughing in the car when they pulled up at the intersection only to be stopped behind extensive lines of traffic and oncoming cops rocking Sam's car as they rushed by. Sam rested his head back into the seat as Bucky was texting away to you, "I cannot wait to see you, doll", sent and delivered. Bucky looks up from his phone, noticing the significant traffic. "Whoa! What's happening?" He asks while Sam winds the window peeking his head from it. "I think it's a crash, dude." Sam leans out of his car a bit more, trying to see all the action.
Bucky doesn't hesitate before hopping out of the car, “We should go check just in case they need help" looking up from the car his lips parted and his vision narrowed. "S-s-sam" Bucky's eyes widened as Sam hopped out. "Yeah?" He said, looking at his friend, who looked horrified. Sam turns to the commotion only to have his face drop in fear. Bucky drops his phone sending his feet running towards the scene with Sam quick on his heels.
~
Traffic wardens directing the traffic and police cars blocking the scene as vehicles wandered around the open setting. You gasped for the air you desperately needed, "Sir, you cannot Cro-"one of the officers are cut off. "THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND", he screamed bloody murder before rushing towards you. Skidding his knees against the concrete ground pulling you into his arms, "no, no, no, no, no, no", Bucky sobs, caressing your face pushing your bloodied hair behind your ears as the grazes on your face deepened. Sam reaches, falling to his knees watching. "Baby, cmon' cmon' stay with me please, s-stay with me god daym it!" He pleaded as you laid in his arms, dozing in and out. The paramedics rushing with their equipment; you flush your eyes open for a second, seeing Bucky which instantly made you smile as you continue to gasp. "B-baby", he looks down to your side as it continues to bleed out. Bucky looks around for the paramedics. "PLEASE HELP, HURRY", he screams in complete madness, using his vibranium arm to hold pressure on the open wound. You rest your hand on his thigh, squeezing it to give him a sign you were still there. "T... t-this will be an anniversary to remember," you laughed faintly to him before coughing up a bit of blood. "No! No!" Bucky cried, cupping your face in his hand as he brought you close to his chest, he whimpered “Don’t go, baby, don’t leave me”.
"Sir, we can take her from here", one of the paramedics exclaims, rushing to help her; Bucky reluctant to let you go, Sam rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Buck, cmon' let them help her" he nodded as Bucky let you go carefully, handing you to the paramedics as you fell limp. Bystanders drove around the scene and stood on the paths watching. He starred in horror, watching as the paramedics had transferred you onto the gurney while they attempted to help you best they could. Bucky sat there looking lifeless, tears down his face, blood on his shirt. Sam kneeled to him. "Hey, they're going to help her the best they can. "Tony has already got a team on the way to help her" he nodded before hearing the paramedic. "I NEED A DEFIBRILLATOR, AND I NEED IT NOW" his heart sunk deeper into his chest, looking over to the yellow vehicle that homed many memories and many road-trips you both had together.
~
Bucky gripped his chest, jolting awake, gasping for air, only to find himself at the side of you, his hand intertwined in yours as you slept peacefully. Another nightmare. Only an hour had passed since he fell asleep, but it had been nearly a month since you were admitted into hospital after the accident. Bucky hadn't slept well for weeks, constantly checking on your state to see if any changes occurred. In the first hour of getting to the hospital, you were released to Tony's medic team and brought back to the compound. Bucky trusted Tony more than the public hospitals and agreed for him to take you.
He couldn't bare to leave your side, and often Sam or Steve had to take over while he took a shower or tried to eat. He sat close to you in the chair Tony brought for him to use. Holding your hand, he kissed the back of your hand gently, "Good morning, doll" he smiled at you, Bucky got up to open the curtains for your face to absorb the sunlight, regardless if you were in a coma ready to wake, he still treated as if you were alive and well… talking to him. Bucky missed you severely, your smile, seeing your eyes, hearing your voice; he longed for the day he'd listen to it again.
A slight knock on the door alludes to Bucky as he turns around. Steve walks in with a paper bag of food "hey bud, my turn today”, Steve smiled at his best friend, who looked tired more than ever. Bucky side smiled. "Thanks, Steve", he sighed softly, taking the bag as Steve gave it to him. "Buck”, sitting down in the chair that Bucky had used as a home for his body of the last month. "Mh?" Bucky looked back to Steve, "I need you to take a shower, get into some comfortable clothes and rest" before Bucky could protest, Steve continues to speak, "If anything changes, you'll be the first to know." He nods to Bucky, "But-" "I will tell you, okay? Just please get some rest and eat. I'll look after her." Bucky nodded, thanking his friend with his eyes before leaving; he circled your bed to give you a kiss on the head. "See you later, love", he smiled before leaving down the hall to his room.
Steve comforted himself in the comfortable leather seat as he pulled his book from the drawer next to your bed, opening it to the page he'd left off a few days ago.
~
After Bucky's shower, he sat at the edge of his new bed, changing into his red henley, one of your favourite shirts that Bucky owned. He managed his way into some grey sweats before leaning his head into the nook of his palms.
"WHO THE FUCK DID THIS" an angry Bucky stood from the ground looking around, Sam knew better than to stop him from doing anything he would regret, but Sam was just as mad, which clouded his judgement. The police had made their way over to Bucky as he clenched both his jaws and fists. “Sergeant Barnes. I'm sorry to say, it was a drunk driver…” The officer alerted him. He seethed anger trying to contain himself as he asked a question, "What is this drivers condition?" the police look over to the man who sits at the back of the ambulance, a paramedic attending his grazes. Bucky followed their gaze to the man who looked as high as a kite, sending Bucky over the edge, he stormed off in the man's direction before stopping right in front of the man. "Sir, you're going to need to step-" the paramedic is cut off. Sam stalks his way towards Bucky mustering the courage to tell his friend not to do anything, but he was at a loss for words.
"Are you the fucker who did that" his vibranium arm swung from his side to point at the collided cars; the man looks at Bucky unbeknownst of what he was asking, "huh?" He replies in a bit of a hum. "IS THAT YOUR FUCKING CAR?" The man looks over and just nods. Sam was sure he could see the anger radiating from Bucky at that point, "Hey Buck, can we maybe just" but with the small voice, Bucky raged, “NO!" He growled, snapping his head back to the man before grabbing his chin, making the drunk man face Bucky's cold eyes, luring him out of his daze. "I-" the man gulped, eyes stuttering as he looked around. “Cmon’ Buck let go of him, please" Sam asks, but Bucky shrugs it off. "You are foul", Bucky seethed to the man who was almost in tears. "I-i'm I'm so- so- sorry", he mutters; Bucky grabs him by the shirt. "If she dies, that is on you. You live with the fact that if my girlfriend... s-she was going to be my fiancé…” he stopped before continuing “her death is on your hands for your fucking stupid actions," he growled before shoving him right back into the ambulance with brut force; the man groans as pain rushes to his back. "You deserved more than that." Bucky glares before storming off; Sam quickly following behind him. Bucky heads to your car, using his arm to lift it upright. All the contents shook inside he goes through collecting what he thought you'd need or want. Sam lends a hand out to hold a few of the items, your bag that was a little torn but mostly kept together, your keys, your favourite CD that had miraculously preserved in perfect condition.
His eyes saddened to see the squashed flowers that laid crumpled all over the floor. Picking up a few of them to hold he lightly chuckles, you defied all stereotypes in your relationship with Bucky. You'd always bring flowers home for Bucky on special occasions or when you felt like he needed them, "men deserve flowers too" you’d always say. Bucky loved… loves you, you were… no… are beautifully unique, and god, he didn't let himself forget it. Bucky had finished collecting everything before walking away. Sam followed behind back to the car. "We will head back to the compound. Tony said he'd take her there" Bucky nodded as he silently got into the car, not saying another word.
~
It was nearly half-past ten when Steve had fallen asleep on the chair with his book open-faced flat on his chest, snoring a bit. Tony had come to check on you a few times to see how you were going. Tony couldn't help himself but take a few photos of Steve sleeping before attending you again with one of the nurses. "She is expected to wake up soon", Dr Cho had whispered to Tony, "So everything is looking good, Cho?" He looks over to her as she nods, "this last round of medication should aid her. I'd say she will wake within the next few hours, earlier than expected” she smiled, causing Tony to nod. "Great! Keep me updated," he said, walking out. There was discussion of attempting to wake you up earlier than intended, but with the slow progress you had made in the last few weeks, Cho wanted to wait a bit longer which Bucky was holding out hope for you.
Back in the guest room set up for Bucky, he slept on top of the bed, facing the ceiling snoring lightly. His vibranium arm resting at his chest and the other underneath his neck. Regardless of how much he wanted to go back to see you, he knew you'd yell at him if you caught him sleep-deprived; Steve had snuck a few sleeping pills into the sandwhich Bucky ate. Lately, it seemed to be the only way to get himself to sleep without interruption.
~
Steve was awake when you drew your first big breath; he jumped from his seat, dropping his book. You groaned a bit before opening your eyes to check your surrounding, the light was harsh, and Steve could tell you were snuggling with it, so he rushed to dim the lights. Your consciousness coming back to your body as you fully but slowly awaken. You move your head gently around to catch sight of everything, Steve smiled coming into your line of vision, your eyes widened as you jumped a bit which made Steve jump thinking something was wrong, he rushed to your side "y/n? Y/n, are you Oka-" you made a weird face before cutting him off letting your raspy voice whisper "Oh my god. You've got a beard".
Steve looks at you pinching his nose laughing which you shortly but lightly follow, "are you kidding me y/n." He shakes his head, laughing through his nose. "No… I'm serious" you widely look at him with a straight face "have you seen yourself" you scrunch your face, jokingly cringe. "You've stolen my boyfriend's style", you smile, which peaks his smile, "he does have a good sense of style, huh" Steve replied, looking at you “And only he can pull it off” you smirked.
You softly smile, looking at him. "How long have I been sleeping beauty?" You joked, "It would've been a month tomorrow," Steve says, and you nod "oh, wow... you make it sound like it was an anniversary", you cough a bit, “could I get some water?" You politely ask Steve, pouring you a glass handing it over to you; you take a sip automatically refreshing your throat. "Bucky is asleep… I can go get him?" Steve asks, standing at the edge of your bed; you shake your head "leave him to sleep. I know he needs it" you smile, patting the chair for Steve to sit back down, which he does. You prop yourself up slowly, moving your joints again ached you, but it felt good that you were moving around. I guess your body knew you needed a little movement before you became a statue. "I know that he hasn't slept, even if I wasn't there, I could hear, hear you, Steve" you look at him before continuing, “Hear you plead him to sleep. I heard Tony, Nat, Sam all attempt to get him to as well.” You rest your head against the pillow "he deserves it", you smile. "Well, he has been out since this morning… I snuck Cho's sleeping pills into his breakfast bag," Steve winked, causing you to giggle. "Ahhh, a 105-year-old man looking out for his 107-year-old friend with sleeping pills,“ "You know, for a woman who has just woken from a coma, you sure do have the energy… Are you sure you weren't just playing dead?" He laughed, causing you to roll your eyes. "Don't go there, capsicle, I could ruin you within seconds", you smirk.
Tony walks in with Cho, massive smiles on their faces, "Our favourite girl is finally awake!" Tony cheers.
~
Your bond with the avengers had grown in the three years of knowing them. Sam introduced you to everyone when he invited you to one of Tony's infamous parties; This was when Bucky was in Wakanda. When Bucky had come back from Wakanda with Steve, you were hanging with Sam at the compound when Sam “introduced” you two briefly after a round of cards. He likes to say that he was the one to introduce you two to each other, but it was really Steve.
Three years ago…
You and Sam were playing a round of cards when he heard the quinjet land, "That must be them!" He excitedly announced, dividing his attention, causing you to win the last round. "HA! I WON YET AGAIN” you cheered, dancing around. Nat laughing as Sam made his disappointed face. "I will never understand you y/n" Nat spoke, shaking her head giving throwing her cards onto the table. Sam rolled his eyes. "It's called being competitive", he laughed “Y’n is good at that” "Come y/n. I'll introduce you to our new member." He turned to you, you nodded getting up with Nat, who followed. In all honestly, you loved meeting the team, both new and old members.
Steve had walked in first. "Ah! Y/n" he smiled, hugging you. "Hey sucker", you smiled playfully punching his arm. There was a slight cough from behind him, causing you to direct your attention to the tall brown haired man. Steve moved to the side so you could see him. You instantly smiled, gazing upon his bold deep-blue eyes. "Y/n, this is our newest recruit James Barnes" Steve announced; Sam smiled. "Welcome back, man". Bucky just nodded, keeping a slight eye on you, “Hey James", you extended your hand out to shake his, "You can call me Bucky" he smiled, shaking your hand gently, you give a small smile nodding, "Nice to meet you Bucky, I'm y/n." Sam looked unamused "why do I still get to call you James?" He huffed, you laughed letting Bucky's hand go. "Probably because I'm cooler and you're just plain annoying" nudging Sam’s arm. The comment made Bucky laugh, and from then on there, it started a lifetime between the two.
~
Cho had finished checking all your vitals and debriefing you on the certain meds you'd have to take for the next few weeks to gain your strength back. Cho also went through a few exercises with you to get your muscles moving again. "Thanks Cho… I appreciate it", you smiled watching as she began to leave. "Wait, Cho-" you quietly whispered, looking at her as she turns back. "Mh?" You let your feet dangle off the bed "do you think I'd be able to move into where Buck is sleeping? I'd like to sleep with him tonight." Cho let a small smile out, "If that is what you want to do, you're more than welcome to. Just slow and carefully, although your wound has healed, your body is getting used to being awake and moving again." You nodded. Tony smiled, patting you back lightly. "Thank gosh, you're leaving this room, can use it for someone who needs it more", he jokes before earning a hard punch from you. "Watch it, tin-man. I'll get my man on you, and you'll be the one needing this room more than I ever did," you gleam sassily as he clutches his chest pretending to be hurt.
Tony winks. "Well, I'll leave you to it", he smiles, walking out down the hall. You look at Steve before slowly getting off the bed, landing your feet into the warm fluffy slippers that Nat had brought for you. Steve aids to your side "thanks," you smile grabbing hold of him for support, groaning a bit as you stood straight “don't mention it y/n," he smiled, grabbing your bag with his free hand. Slowly and carefully, you walk out down the hall with Steve by your side; walking in your warm cotton Pj's, you look around, trying to focus yourself on everything. "You alright?" Steve asked for the twentieth time in five mins you’d both been walking to the guest room. You roll your eyes. "Actually, now that you mention it, I'm feeling lightheaded” you laugh mimicking like you were going to faint. Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm okay, Steve, don't worry" you smiled. Stopping at the door of the room, you hear Bucky's soft snore, which makes your heart flutter. "He's going to kill me tomorrow morning", Steve whispered, opening the door slightly for you. You let a small giggle out, "why's that?" You whisper back as he puts your bag just inside the door. "I said I'd wake him if anything changed" he watched as Bucky slept deeply. "Don't worry, he won't kill you, I won't let him" you wink, mouthing a thank you to Steve. "Get some good rest, Steve" you smile, closing the guest door lightly, not wanting to wake Bucky.
Carefully you walk over to the bed, slipping the slippers off your feet and slowly climbing onto the bed. You smiled, watching as your boyfriend snored, his vibranium arm now spread out to the side like he was waiting for you to fill it and his other still under his neck. The rise and fall of his chest calmed you as you scooted closer into his embrace. Head resting on his vibranium arm was dearly missed; you rolled to your side before resting one of your hands on his chest, snuggling closer to him. You missed this, being able to do it for yourself; you just missed it. You closed your eyes lightly before hearing your name sing quietly, "y/n?" Bucky looks down at you in surprise. You look up at him with a soft grin "Ta-Da" you chuckled, his eyed watered blinking too many times at you, your hand rested on his cheek as he lightly turned to you. "Happy month late anniversary, my love", you smiled at him as his brows furrowed "no… no… I'm dreaming I- you-" he stutters, but you quickly shut him up with a soft kiss to his lips. "Not a dream", you whisper, looking into his eyes. His face flutters a vast smile.
A sense of realisation hit “You're awake!" He sniffs, smiling as you nod towards him, "Indeed." You giggle. He pulls you gently closer to him. "Gosh, have I missed this so much." You smile, hugging onto him. "I'm so glad to have you back, baby", he can’t hold his whimpers in any longer, you look up to wipe the tears from his face "no need to cry, love". His breath cools; he had his love back with him. "How'd you get here?" He asks, concerned that you might be hurt, "Steve helped me back here. Don't you go killing him either", you warned, making him slightly laugh. "He told me you were sleeping; I thought I'd surprise you." "It was the best surprise” Bucky hummed. “I’m sorry I ruin our anniversary-"Bucky cut you off, shaking his head. "No, doll, that is not your fault." He whispered, kissing your soft lips. You sniffed in sadness. "I couldn't give you your flowers", you pouted, and he just smiled. "Well. I think I'd rather have you." He cooed. “There are plenty of flowers, but there is only one of you”.
Moments more extended, the pair of you moulded into each other like you had never left his side. Your eyes closed, Bucky grabs your attention again, "Love?" "hmm?" You hum in reply. He tugs at the chain around your neck, causing your eyes to open in confusion; you hadn’t noticed the chain until now “Buck?" You looked down to where his hand was; on the necklace that homed your neck was a beautiful gold black peppered ring. He searched your eyes “Marry me?" eyes glistened in the dark, you smiled cheesily, reaching to hold his hand that held the engagement ring, you kissed his hand then his lips, "of course" you smiled which made Bucky excitedly wiggled a victory dance in your presence, a habit he caught from you.
He unclasped the necklace from your neck, sliding the ring off it; you smiled, watching him slide it onto your finger. He let out a breath of relief as you watched him. "You've asked me while I was asleep, haven't you?" You said as a faint memory of his voice took you back to when you were in your coma. Bucky softly nodded as he admired you, “I did”.
~
Bucky sat next to you after you'd come out of surgery; it was already nightfall. Bucky sobbed quietly as he held your hand, watching you rest. "I- I'm sorry we couldn't celebrate our anniversary together, baby", he sniffed, keeping your hand in his as his cheek rested upon the intertwined hands. "Gosh, how I wish you were here, awake with me” He continues, "I- I was going to propose to you tonight, tell you how excited I was to spend the rest of our lives together, to grow old, to have a f-family." he blinks, causing his tear to fall onto your hand. "I love you with everything I've got, doll. You're my happiness, my light. P-please comes back to me, don't leave me." His brows furrow more. "I need you, I know I'm selfish, but I do. So please, I promise to give you more than I've given you already, to protect you, to love you, to be your goofy husband. I promise to be there on your hardest days like you do for me. I promise you the world, my- our world. If you'd just come back to me l-love," his heart rips as he cries softly. For a brief moment, he lets your hand go taking the box from his pocket. He unclasped the dog tags from his neck, taking the engagement ring from the box, he slides the ring on before standing, gently he puts his necklace around your neck before sitting back down to hold your hand. "For when you wake, I'll ask you again, I know you'll come back. I love you so much" He kisses your hand again. “Marry me”.
~
"You've given me everything I need. Growing old and goofy with me is all I ever need," you smiled, cupping Bucky's face. "You don't need to promise me anything for me to come back to you; I'll always find my way back into your arms." Bucky smiles, holding his hand against yours as it cups his face. "I love you, James Bucky Barnes, and I'd want nothing else but to spend the rest of our life together. I love you," you whisper.
With your cheesy speech, Bucky's worries vanished, “how can I say no if you promised to be my goofy husband” he grinned. “I’m holding you to that” “I cannot wait to marry you doll” you hugged back onto him before replying. “Neither can I, Mr Barnes." nuzzling yourself into his chest him.
The last conversation you'd have until morning as you fell asleep into each other's arms.
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metalbuckaroo · 10 hours ago
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°•°•Masterlist•°•°
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None of the gifs used are mine
AN: All of the linked parts/drabbles/oneshots all have their own warnings, mostly smut. 18+ ONLY, minors DNI
Series
Sweet Pea Masterlist
Oneshots/Drabbles
Biker!Bucky
¤ Not-So-Peaceful Morning- A quiet morning interrupted by a phonecall
¤ Break Time- A stressful shift at the bar leads to break time in Bucky's office
¤ In For It- Teasing Bucky on his bike isn't always the best choice
¤ Paperwork- Bucky shows his girl some attention
¤ Two Weeks- Bucky gives you a two week break before starting things back up
¤ Stunning- Bucky's girl needs some reassurance
¤ Bite- "Let em know who's girl you are."
¤ Make Me-
¤ Impatience- Bucky is a softie for his girl
¤ Repaying the Favor- After things were cut short, Bucky comes home to repay the favor.
Roommate!Bucky
¤ Friends- "Friends don't play with friends underwear."
¤ Bonding Time- A few too many drinks ends in a bathroom floor conversation with Bucky
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halsmultibitch · 12 hours ago
Text
You and Me Against the World
(Bucky Barnes x reader)
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summary: Bucky and the reader navigate their relationship while in a worldwide mission that brings up past memories
wc: 2,056
a/n: I’m so so very excited to share with you all @ilovefandoms102 and I’s new series! This will be a rewrite of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier show with our own unique ideas and twists. I hope you all love it!! Also if you would like to be on the permanent Taglist you can ask either one of us.
Parts in bold italics are flashbacks!
———————————————————————
Some people say you’re better off alone, I’m starting to think they were right…
I am one of the most feared creatures on planet Earth. I am not from this world, no one, not even myself knew where I came from. The only thing I was sure of was that I was shipped to America from Russia.
Paul and Darlene Wilson adopted me into their family when I was only 6 months old. I had two siblings, Sarah and Sam. I didn’t start showing my powers until I was 5 when Sarah wouldn’t give me back my favorite Barbie.
From then on, I was the outcast of our town. Kids made fun of me, parents didn’t want their children near me.
I was alone…
I felt it even more when Sarah left for college and Sam went into the Air Force.
With them gone, I became a masked vigilante known as гадюка. I took down people that had no good intentions which is what led Nick Furry recruiting me for SHIELD.
Some time later, I was tasked by Steve to find The Winter Soldier. This is where things got complicated.
When I infiltrated where he was being held, he had some of his memories. I talked to him for a long while, and kept going back even though I was supposed to capture him.
I fell in love with him, and I couldn’t let the government have him. I helped Bucky escape, from there, we went on the run from HYDRA and SHIELD.
After the events between Captain America and Iron Man, Bucky was sent off to Wakanda to heal.
I was once again alone…
I was reunited with Bucky during the war with Thanos, only to have him ripped from me along with my brother, I had never felt such sadness. All my frustration through the years spilled out of me, the power inside me going off like a grenade.
They locked me in a cell for a month until I could get myself under control.
Five long years went by, I had tried to spend more time with my sister and nephews, but Bucky clouded my mind every single day. What was left of the Avengers and I was able to undo the snap, bringing back every single person lost.
I finally had the two most important men back in my life.
=====================================
Bucky and I shared an apartment in downtown Brooklyn, although with how things had been going it felt like I lived alone. Buck may live with me, but mentally, he’s nowhere near me.
I felt more lost than ever in our relationship from the years I had known him…loved him.
I wished more than ever to have my friends, my family back. I missed them more than ever, and I won’t lie, it’s been difficult to move on.
No matter how much I’ve tried over the past 8 months, Bucky still refused to open up to me. It wasn’t like I could tell my brother anything either since Bucky wouldn’t take his calls. I hadn’t talked to Sam in a few months, I felt terrible about it, but I really just didn’t even know where to begin. I wanted to tell him everything.
The definition of relationship was completely different between Bucky and I. He was still in the 40’s mindset, while I was in the 21st century. In his time, women didn’t ask questions, and they didn’t do what Bucky calls “playing doctor”.
“I’m sorry I want to know what’s going on with my boyfriend!” I shouted, my face turning more red by the second.
“I didn’t ask for you to play doctor and try to open up my mind y/n!” Bucky shouted back.
“I’m not HYDRA James!” I screeched, a glass behind him breaking. I had lost control for a moment.
“I love you, I’m trying to help you! You can’t stay closed off from me, it’s going to ruin us.” I continued, tears rolling down my cheeks as I held his bearded ones between my hands.
“I need my girlfriend, I need you to stop playing doctor.” he said bluntly, pushing my hands away. He walked past me, slamming the door to our room shut.
After that night, I slept alone.
Bucky had recurring nightmares that he refused to talk about. Of course I was there to calm him down, but when I tried to ask him about it, he shut down.
I was in our bed when my enhanced hearing picked up on his elevating heart rate. I jumped out of bed, running into the living room where he had nothing but a sheet on the floor. I started shaking his shoulders immediately.
“Bucky? James, wake up, you're having a bad dream baby.” I said, putting his hands on my cheeks so he felt my presence.
It took some time before his eyes shot open, his hands tightened before they dropped. He sat up, panting and sweating. Bucky laid his head on my shoulder, my hands soothing as I caressed him. This was the first time we had been this close to each other in months, and I couldn’t deny the feeling of happiness it gave me.
“You alright?” I asked gently.
“Mhm, just hold me.” he whispered, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me closer.
“I’m here baby, I’m here.” I assured, laying a gentle kiss on his jaw.
=====================================
Bucky’s therapist had asked me to sit in on their session today...without telling him. I knew this was going to be a bad idea because he wouldn’t even talk to me. The look of fury in his eyes when he came into her office honestly made my heart hurt.
He was so adamant about shutting me out, and the doc saw that as she looked between us. Bucky sat beside me, winding his arm around to the back of the couch. It was the first show of affection he had willingly shown me in months.
“So, Mr. Barnes, are you still having nightmares?” Dr.Raynor asked.
“No.” Bucky deadpanned, casting a glance at me from the corner of his eye.
“We’ve been doing this long enough, I can tell when you’re lying, did something happen since the last time we spoke?” She asked again.
“No.” Bucky repeated.
You’re a civilian now, and with your history, the government needs to know that you’re not gonna…It’s a condition of your pardon. So, tell me about your most recent nightmare.” She tried again.
“I didn’t have one.” Bucky huffed, crossing one of his legs over the other.
Dr. Raynor slapped her notebook on her knee.
“Oh, come on. You’re gonna do the notebook thing? It’s passive aggressive.” Bucky protested, leaning forward a bit.
“You don’t talk, I write.” She shrugged.
I looked over at him, begging him with my eyes to say something. He stared into them for a moment before turning back to his therapist.
“Fine, ok...I crossed a name off the list of my amends yesterday. Don’t worry. I used all your three rules. Senator Atwood, she was a HYDRA pawn for years...Helped her get into office when I was the Winter Soldier, and after HYDRA disbanded, she continued to abuse the power I gave her.” Bucky explained.
I couldn’t lie about the pang in my heart that he told me nothing about this.
“So, you did it all right, but it didn’t help with the nightmares.” She assumed, looking at both of us.
“Well, like I said, I didn’t have any.” Bucky said again.
“James…” I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Look…you’re gonna have to open up and understand that some people really do want to help you and they can be trusted.” Dr.Raynor advised.
“I trust people...my girlfriend.” Bucky scoffed.
“Yeah? Give me your phone.” She demanded.
Bucky fished in his pocket, taking out his ancient flip phone and tossing it to her.
“You don’t have ten numbers on this thing, and you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam...I am the only person you have called this week.” She sighed.
My head shot over to look at Bucky fully, I knew it. I knew he had been ignoring my brother. He had promised me over and over that he would talk to Sam, so now I knew he was lying to me this whole time. Bucky looked at me, a look someone has when they know they’ve been caught.
“Baby-” he tried, but I shook my head at him.
“You’re a hundred years old, you have no history, no family…” Dr.Raynor began, but Bucky kept interrupting.
“Are you lashing out at me, Doc because that’s really unprofessional? When did that start? Yelling at your clients?” Bucky taunted, which only made Dr. Raynor pull out the infamous notebook.
“The notebook. That’s great.” Bucky sassed, if I wasn’t completely pissed at him, I would have giggled a bit.
After a minute, Bucky finally broke.
“All right, give me a break, I’m trying, okay? This isn’t…This is new for me. I didn’t have a moment to deal with anything, you know?I had a little…calm in Wakanda with y/n and other than that, I just went from one fight to another for 90 years.” Bucky confessed, his eyes casting down at the ground almost embarrassed.
“So, now that you’ve stopped fighting, what do you want?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Peace...you.” Bucky replied.
“That is utter bullshit.” Dr.Raynor blurted.
“You’re a terrible shrink.” Bucky said.
“I was an excellent soldier, so I saw a lot of dead bodies, and I know how that can shut you down. And if you are alone, that is the quietest, most personal hell a person can endure.” Dr.Raynor elaborated on her statement, but Bucky still shook his head as if he was in disbelief.
“Look, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back, you are being pardoned, and you have a very lovely girlfriend.” She said nonchalantly.
=====================================
I stomped out of the office, Bucky right on my tail.
“Sweetheart please! I’m sorry ok?!” Bucky called, catching up enough to grab my elbow.
“You have been keeping me in the dark for far too long James! I can’t do this anymore!” I shouted, shoving his arm away. I turned and continued the walk to the car, but Bucky grabbed me again.
“I didn’t tell you about the amends to protect you, everything I did was for you.” Bucky explained, his blue eyes staring deep into mine.
“Because I’m the most feared assassin in the world and the government would love any chance to arrest me?” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
“No-well-partially yes, but I don’t need you caught up in my mess.” Bucky stammered, now walking with me to our shared vehicle.
I stopped on my side, turning to block the door. He always opened it for me, so I knew I could trap him for a few more minutes.
“I love you James, and I am willing to do anything and everything for you, you know that. You damn well know that I will do anything for you.” I professed, grabbing a hold of his jacket.
“This is something I have to do on my own, my love, yes you know what you see in my head, but you weren’t there...you don’t know everything, and you don’t know what a monster I was.” he said quietly.
“Baby, we’ve talked about this. You are not a monster, what you did...you had no control of. I don’t hold any of that against you, and I never will.” I assured, bringing him closer to me.
We wrapped our arms around each other, taking in the other’s scent. I loved nothing more than being in his arms, they were so warm, and comforting. I tilted my head back, and he leaned the rest of the way and laid a gentle kiss on my lips.
I wanted to cry from the feeling of relief it brought me. I was so scared our relationship was done, but now I knew it was going to become stronger than ever. My hands fell to his cheeks, rubbing the scruff that I had grown to love.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” I whispered back
Taglist: @swiftmendeshoran @fuckandfluff @jeyramarie @chloecatina421 @buckyswillow @writingtoforgetreality @cjsinkythoughts @sam-wilsonnn @makebank @annab-nana @toriswrites @bucksfucks @lostinthemcu
128 notes · View notes
ilovefandoms102 · 12 hours ago
Text
You and Me Against the World
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wilson!Reader
Summary: A new era had begun...will you and Bucky survive this transition? Or will your relationship fall apart?
Note: @halsmultibitch​​ and I have been cooking this up for you guys! Let us know if you like it!
Parts in bold italics are flashbacks!
Click here if you want to be added to my taglist!
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=====================================
Some people say you’re better off alone, I’m starting to think they were right…
I am one of the most feared creatures on planet Earth. I am not from this world, no one, not even myself knew where I came from. The only thing I was sure of was that I was shipped to America from Russia.
Paul and Darlene Wilson adopted me into their family when I was only 6 months old. I had two siblings, Sarah and Sam. I didn’t start showing my powers until I was 5 when Sarah wouldn’t give me back my favorite Barbie.
From then on, I was the outcast of our town. Kids made fun of me, parents didn’t want their children near me. 
I was alone…
I felt it even more when Sarah left for college and Sam went into the Air Force.
With them gone, I became a masked vigilante known as гадюка. I took down people that had no good intentions which is what led Nick Furry recruiting me for SHIELD. 
Some time later, I was tasked by Steve to find The Winter Soldier. This is where things got complicated. 
When I infiltrated where he was being held, he had some of his memories. I talked to him for a long while, and kept going back even though I was supposed to capture him. 
I fell in love with him, and I couldn’t let the government have him. I helped Bucky escape, from there, we went on the run from HYDRA and SHIELD. 
After the events between Captain America and Iron Man, Bucky was sent off to Wakanda to heal. 
I was once again alone…
I was reunited with Bucky during the war with Thanos, only to have him ripped from me along with my brother, I had never felt such sadness. All my frustration through the years spilled out of me, the power inside me going off like a grenade. 
They locked me in a cell for a month until I could get myself under control. 
Five long years went by, I had tried to spend more time with my sister and nephews, but Bucky clouded my mind every single day. What was left of the Avengers and I was able to undo the snap, bringing back every single person lost. 
I finally had the two most important men back in my life. 
=====================================
Bucky and I shared an apartment in downtown Brooklyn, although with how things had been going it felt like I lived alone. Buck may live with me, but mentally, he’s nowhere near me. 
I felt more lost than ever in our relationship from the years I had known him…loved him. 
I wished more than ever to have my friends, my family back. I missed them more than ever, and I won’t lie, it’s been difficult to move on. 
No matter how much I’ve tried over the past 8 months, Bucky still refused to open up to me. It wasn’t like I could tell my brother anything either since Bucky wouldn’t take his calls. I hadn’t talked to Sam in a few months, I felt terrible about it, but I really just didn’t even know where to begin. I wanted to tell him everything.
The definition of relationship was completely different between Bucky and I. He was still in the 40’s mindset, while I was in the 21st century. In his time, women didn’t ask questions, and they didn’t do what Bucky calls “playing doctor”. 
“I’m sorry I want to know what’s going on with my boyfriend!” I shouted, my face turning more red by the second. 
“I didn’t ask for you to play doctor and try to open up my mind y/n!” Bucky shouted back. 
“I’m not HYDRA James!” I screeched, a glass behind him breaking. I had lost control for a moment. 
“I love you, I’m trying to help you! You can’t stay closed off from me, it’s going to ruin us.” I continued, tears rolling down my cheeks as I held his bearded ones between my hands. 
“I need my girlfriend, I need you to stop playing doctor.” he said bluntly, pushing my hands away. He walked past me, slamming the door to our room shut.
After that night, I slept alone.
Bucky had recurring nightmares that he refused to talk about. Of course I was there to calm him down, but when I tried to ask him about it, he shut down. 
I was in our bed when my enhanced hearing picked up on his elevating heart rate. I jumped out of bed, running into the living room where he had nothing but a sheet on the floor. I started shaking his shoulders immediately.
“Bucky? James, wake up, you're having a bad dream baby.” I said, putting his hands on my cheeks so he felt my presence. 
It took some time before his eyes shot open, his hands tightened before they dropped. He sat up, panting and sweating. Bucky laid his head on my shoulder, my hands soothing as I caressed him. This was the first time we had been this close to each other in months, and I couldn’t deny the feeling of happiness it gave me. 
“You alright?” I asked gently.
“Mhm, just hold me.” he whispered, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me closer.
“I’m here baby, I’m here.” I assured, laying a gentle kiss on his jaw.
=====================================
Bucky’s therapist had asked me to sit in on their session today...without telling him. I knew this was going to be a bad idea because he wouldn’t even talk to me. The look of fury in his eyes when he came into her office honestly made my heart hurt.
He was so adamant about shutting me out, and the doc saw that as she looked between us. Bucky sat beside me, winding his arm around to the back of the couch. It was the first show of affection he had willingly shown me in months. 
“So, Mr. Barnes, are you still having nightmares?” Dr.Raynor asked.
“No.” Bucky deadpanned, casting a glance at me from the corner of his eye.
“We’ve been doing this long enough, I can tell when you’re lying, did something happen since the last time we spoke?” She asked again.
“No.” Bucky repeated. 
You’re a civilian now, and with your history, the government needs to know that you’re not gonna…It’s a condition of your pardon. So, tell me about your most recent nightmare.” She tried again.
“I didn’t have one.” Bucky huffed, crossing one of his legs over the other.
Dr. Raynor slapped her notebook on her knee.
“Oh, come on. You’re gonna do the notebook thing? It’s passive aggressive.” Bucky protested, leaning forward a bit. 
“You don’t talk, I write.” She shrugged.
I looked over at him, begging him with my eyes to say something. He stared into them for a moment before turning back to his therapist. 
“Fine, ok...I crossed a name off the list of my amends yesterday. Don’t worry. I used all your three rules. Senator Atwood, she was a HYDRA pawn for years...Helped her get into office when I was the Winter Soldier, and after HYDRA disbanded, she continued to abuse the power I gave her.” Bucky explained.
I couldn’t lie about the pang in my heart that he told me nothing about this.
“So, you did it all right, but it didn’t help with the nightmares.” She assumed, looking at both of us.
“Well, like I said, I didn’t have any.” Bucky said again.
“James…” I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Look…you’re gonna have to open up and understand that some people really do want to help you and they can be trusted.” Dr.Raynor advised.
“I trust people...my girlfriend.” Bucky scoffed.
“Yeah? Give me your phone.” She demanded.
Bucky fished in his pocket, taking out his ancient flip phone and tossing it to her.
“You don’t have ten numbers on this thing, and you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam...I am the only person you have called this week.” She sighed.
My head shot over to look at Bucky fully, I knew it. I knew he had been ignoring my brother. He had promised me over and over that he would talk to Sam, so now I knew he was lying to me this whole time. Bucky looked at me, a look someone has when they know they’ve been caught.
“Baby-” he tried, but I shook my head at him.
“You’re a hundred years old, you have no history, no family…” Dr.Raynor began, but Bucky kept interrupting. 
“Are you lashing out at me, Doc because that’s really unprofessional? When did that start? Yelling at your clients?” Bucky taunted, which only made Dr. Raynor pull out the infamous notebook.
“The notebook. That’s great.” Bucky sassed, if I wasn’t completely pissed at him, I would have giggled a bit.
After a minute, Bucky finally broke.
“All right, give me a break, I’m trying, okay? This isn’t…This is new for me. I didn’t have a moment to deal with anything, you know?I had a little…calm in Wakanda with y/n and other than that, I just went from one fight to another for 90 years.” Bucky confessed, his eyes casting down at the ground almost embarrassed. 
“So, now that you’ve stopped fighting, what do you want?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Peace...you.” Bucky replied.
“That is utter bullshit.” Dr.Raynor blurted.
“You’re a terrible shrink.” Bucky said.
“I was an excellent soldier, so I saw a lot of dead bodies, and I know how that can shut you down. And if you are alone, that is the quietest, most personal hell a person can endure.” Dr.Raynor elaborated on her statement, but Bucky still shook his head as if he was in disbelief. 
“Look, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back, you are being pardoned, and you have a very lovely girlfriend.” She said nonchalantly. 
=====================================
I stomped out of the office, Bucky right on my tail.
“Sweetheart please! I’m sorry ok?!” Bucky called, catching up enough to grab my elbow.
“You have been keeping me in the dark for far too long James! I can’t do this anymore!” I shouted, shoving his arm away. I turned and continued the walk to the car, but Bucky grabbed me again.
“I didn’t tell you about the amends to protect you, everything I did was for you.” Bucky explained, his blue eyes staring deep into mine.
“Because I’m the most feared assassin in the world and the government would love any chance to arrest me?” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
“No-well-partially yes, but I don’t need you caught up in my mess.” Bucky stammered, now walking with me to our shared vehicle. 
I stopped on my side, turning to block the door. He always opened it for me, so I knew I could trap him for a few more minutes.
“I love you James, and I am willing to do anything and everything for you, you know that. You damn well know that I will do anything for you.” I professed, grabbing a hold of his jacket.
“This is something I have to do on my own, my love, yes you know what you see in my head, but you weren’t there...you don’t know everything, and you don’t know what a monster I was.” he said quietly.
“Baby, we’ve talked about this. You are not a monster, what you did...you had no control of. I don’t hold any of that against you, and I never will.” I assured, bringing him closer to me. 
We wrapped our arms around each other, taking in the other’s scent. I loved nothing more than being in his arms, they were so warm, and comforting. I tilted my head back, and he leaned the rest of the way and laid a gentle kiss on my lips. 
I wanted to cry from the feeling of relief it brought me. I was so scared our relationship was done, but now I knew it was going to become stronger than ever. My hands fell to his cheeks, rubbing the scruff that I had grown to love.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” I whispered back.
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23 notes · View notes
poisonbeauty · 15 hours ago
Also imagine you and your best friend are hanging out, and they bring up how you should try to date this random guy just as Bucky's passing by so you look at him and reply to them "yeah, he's cute right? Maybe I should make a move" he'd get so angry
oh. OH.
you and your best friend were laying on the sofa, another lazy friday night. you haven't seen bucky all day, which was unusual. he arrives home, a little bit more dressed up then what he usually dresses like -- and at 1am? please.
you attempt to ignore the thought of him seeing someone else, someone who isn't you -- on a friday night. just as he crosses the living room, your best friend shows you a picture of a guy who admittedly is your type. oh, and he's single too?
"____, you should dm him or something" she suggests, through mouthfuls of popcorn. "he's pretty cute"
you can feel bucky's gaze burning through your skin as you pick the phone from her hands, looking through the guy's socials. the thought of his skilled touch and silver tongue makes you shiver.
"yeah, maybe i will"
62 notes · View notes
19ana45 · 18 hours ago
Text
Aerophobia - Oneshot
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (they have twins, a boy and a girl, Grant and Rebecca)
Word Count: 5.4k
Warnings: fluff, anxiety, talk of therapy sessions, aerophobia, talk of motion sickness, like a smidgen of angst, parents being scared, couples being corny, Bucky with kids
A/N: I was watching Modern Family the other day, and there came a scene in episode 22 season 1, where (slight spoiler) Claire develops a fear of flying and she thinks it's because she has 'so much to lose now'. I thought that it was a very interesting line, but the show glossed over it so much, so I wanted to explore it more and in depth.
I'm also really nervous about this because it deals with quite a few sensitive topics (and S. really tore the earlier drafts apart). I tried to do as much research as possible, since the last thing I want to do is gloss over these topics.
Also, if there are any non-representative descriptions of the reader, please let me know so I can fix it and improve on my writing. (Any hate or rude comments will not be tolerated.)
Sidenote, if you or anyone you know has this phobia, please go see your family doctor, as they are qualified to help you treat it and overcome it.
P.S for a slight spoiler to see if there’s a happy ending, click here.
Copyright Notice: I do not own any of the images or dividers used in this post, credit to their original owners. I do not own any of the Marvel characters, they belong to Marvel. This is my own creative piece of writing, you do not have permission to repost it as yours on any other sites and/or translate it (without my written permission). That counts as plagiarism, which is illegal. Reblogs are fine, and encouraged!
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He remembered the first time that he flew with her, way back when, before their engagement. How he was hit by a sudden urge to vomit, how she was beside him the entire time, and how, when they finally landed, he had exhaled a shaky breath, and finally felt at ease. Beside him, she was so calm and collected. Flights and planes, terminals and security guards hadn’t fazed her in the slightest, while Bucky was a jittering mess.
The next time, he was much more calm. It seemed like the first time was a case of too much caffeine and the stress of meeting her family. Just recently married to the love of his life, ready to go on a trip with just her, the only thing he could think about was how many kids they were going to have, and what they would name them.
Giggling on to his stories about the sheer number of cats and dogs they were going to have (so their kids wouldn’t be lonely), their little love bubble hadn’t burst even after she had given birth to the twins. It only grew stronger around the two other members of their family.
They had flown, as a family of four, only once. And it was like a switch had flipped in his wife. Shaking hands, eyes darting to and fro, and quick breaths soon resulted in a full-fledged panic attack in the bathroom.
Bucky didn’t know what to do.
He didn’t want to scare the kids on one hand, but he also had to take care of his wife, and leaving six-year-olds alone in an airport was not an option he was willing to bet on. How they made it to his parents’ house six hours later, he would never know.
She had agreed that they had to see a doctor about what happened, even if there was the slightest possibility of it happening again, since it would put their children in danger.
So, they had lined up a fun-filled afternoon for the kids with their grandparents, and went to see Bucky’s old family doctor. Though he couldn’t officially diagnose the phobia, Dr. Banner had prescribed some Benadryl for the flight back home and a referral for a psychologist once they got back.
Working one-on-one with her psychologist, Dr. Meier confirmed the diagnosis, and started weekly sessions. The doctor has also prescribed some Xanax for her upcoming flight with her family.
Now, as they were preparing for their first family flight, over water, Bucky couldn’t help the lurch of anxiety he felt when he saw the cuticles of his wife’s nails picked to the bone. The only thing he could do was try to help her calm her nerves, running through air travel statistics, teaching her breathing exercises and anxiety management techniques. She was the heart and soul of the little family that they had built together, and seeing her nervous shook the three of them to the bone.
There was one thing that they had both agreed on yesterday evening in bed, that whatever happened the next day, they would try their hardest to not let it affect the kids. So, though his stomach was churning at the thought of the inner war his wife was going through, he snapped the video recorder battery into place, plastered a smile on his face and started recording.
“Ok, here we go,” Bucky grinned, opening the door to his son’s room, video recorder in hand. “The Barnes’ first family tropical vacation!”
At the sound of his father’s voice, the nine-year-old groaned and shifted around in his bed, hiding his face under the covers.
“Up, up, up!” Bucky went over to the bed and started shaking Grant. “Don’t you want to be awake before your sister?”
Burying himself further in his bed, chasing the safety of his fleeting sleep, Bucky could almost hear him roll his eyes, before grumbling, “What I want is to go back to sleep.”
Bucky scoffed, “Unbelievable. We’re going to Hawaii! I thought you’d be a little more energetic, you’ve wanted this for ages!”
“All I want now is to go back to sleep.” Clearly, their weekend stays at their Uncle Sam’s was doing more harm than good. Bucky thought he had a couple more years with his kids before the dreaded teens, but the way Grant was dishing out sarcasm left and right, it seemed like Bucky had lost them forever.
“How ‘bout you and I make a deal, huh?” He focused the camera on the place he thought his son’s head was. “You get out of bed and start packing with no fuss, and I’ll make you some pancakes before we head out.”
Just as Bucky predicted, Grant threw the covers over his body and jumped out of bed, his face aglow with the anticipation of his father’s iconic breakfast. His face then instantly fell, seeing the infamous recorder in Bucky’s hands. “Dad,” he whined, covering his face.
What a diva, Bucky thought in his head, grinning. “Grant.”
“You’re terrible,” he muttered underneath his breath, but still taking off at break-neck speed towards the bathroom. A deal was a deal, no matter how insistent Bucky was on recording their each and every movement.
He called after Grant, “You’ll thank me for doing this when you’re older! Ya know, all the memories and… stuff.” Bucky would rather not think about how quickly his kids were growing up, and after clearing his voice, he narrated out to their future audience, “First Barnes is up and about, let’s see what the next one is up to,” walking across the hall to his daughter’s room, he knocked softly on the door, “Bec, honey?”
“Come in, Dad!” her voice chirped from inside the room.
Must be awake already, he peeped his head in, “Mornin’ early bird…” looking around at the mess that had taken her room by the neck, he shuddered. Y/N would not be happy if she saw this. And if Rebecca was anything like her twin brother- “Oh, wow, and you’ve packed.”
“Mmhm! I was waiting for you to come and see!” She was oblivious to the fact that the majority of her clean clothes were outside her closet than inside it. No, instead, she was sitting down on her made bed, one hand on the handle of her suitcase, the other on her favourite stuffed animal, pretty as a picture.
“Becca, baby,” he stepped into the room, panning the camera from side-to-side. “You don’t see anything wrong with your space right now?”
Rebecca shook her head, grinning at her father’s earlier praise.
Chewing the end of his lip, he caught sight of her favourite dress, folded in on itself, its hanger lost in the interminable abyss of his daughter’s clothes. Reaching down with a groan, he grabbed it in his hands, “Look what I just found on the ground…” in as much a playful voice as he could muster.
“Oh!” she gasped, startled at who the culprit of such a horrendous crime could be. “Silly me! How did that end up there?”
He chuckled, “I don’t know, baby,” reaching his arm out with the dress in it. Rebecca got the hint and took it from him, rummaging around for a hanger. As she moved around the room, Bucky put the video recorder down on her desk and carefully made his way towards her suitcase. Opening it up, he checked to make sure that she had packed everything they had asked her to. Which, surprise, surprise, she had!
You see, Rebecca had her own little quirks, though she may have blown apart her room trying to pack, she didn’t forget a single item, even the extra pair of underwear they had asked her to bring.
All of her clothes were arranged in neat little rows, one or two of her favourite books and toys packed into the extra space… yes, their daughter had her eccentricities, and as parents they both had to find a delicate balance for reprimanding and correcting some of her messier habits, while condoning others.
“Good job, baby,” he said, a smile splitting his face as he closed the suitcase and zipped it up. Half of the battle was already won, and Bucky considered this a score… Grant had a little more trouble with packing, his mom’s perfectionism kicking in. “And all your clothes are put away as well.” Bucky didn’t even bother checking to see if they were put away correctly, he knew his daughter better than that.
He picked up the video recorder in his hands, turned it back on and faced Rebecca’s gap-laden toothy grin, “Wave to the camera, Becca-” after she did “-you excited for the beach?”
As she launched into a monologue about all the different activities she was planning on doing, Bucky took her suitcase in his hand and guided the two of them down the stairs, all the while keeping the camera on Rebecca… easier said than done.
Placing the suitcase by the front door, he started to walk quickly towards the kitchen. He needed to get started on those pancakes soon, but her voice stopped him in his tracks, “Can I watch some TV before we go?”
Y/N was always berating him for being too soft on the kids. But how could he keep a steel-face when they gave him those puppy dog eyes that had made him fall head-over-heels for his wife a little over ten years ago?
He sighed, but today was the day he was going to do it, he didn’t want to put too much pressure on his wife. Running a loving hand around the back of her head, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, maintaining eye contact with her, “I think your Mom might need a little help in the kitchen… why don’t we go ask her, and if she says she’s alright, then I don’t see why not.”
Rebecca squealed, running towards the entrance to the kitchen, “Mom! Dad says that if you don’t need any he-”
She was cut off by the crash of ceramic on the floor, followed by an exasperated “Shit!”
Moving cautiously into the kitchen, the young girl said, “Mom? Are you alri-” Grant’s footsteps could be heard upstairs as he moved towards the stairway. Bucky laid down the camera, going to see what had happened.
Bucky’s gaze flitted down quickly to his daughter’s bare feet, and in a moment he was right behind her, arms around her waist as he lifted her high into the air. “Dad?” Sure, Bucky was concerned about his wife, but Rebecca was a little too-hot headed for her own good, and the dangers of broken ceramic… or glass, or whatever it was on the ground, were unknown to her.
“Dad?” Grant’s voice came from the top of the stairwell, his footsteps pattering down. “Is everything alri-”
“Everything’s alright, Grant,” he placed Rebecca on the third step. “Mom just had a little accident, is all.”
Ever the hero, Grant pushed forward against Bucky’s large frame. “Lemme go see,” his chin set in a stubborn pout. “I can help.”
“No,” he drawled out, wrapping his arms around his son’s waist, ignoring his protests as they made their way up the stairs. At the sight of his daughter’s face, lips jutted out as she gazed up at her brother, Bucky sighed and picked her up with his other arm. “What you’re going to do is stay up here until we call you to come downstairs, ok?” He placed them down, on the hallway floor upstairs.
“But what are we going to do?” Grant whined. “I want to help!”
Bucky’s mind was working at maximum capacity as he thought of a good answer to give his son. “You are helpin’, bud, you’re helpin’ us by takin’ care of ya sister.”
Rebecca’s voice piped up from beside his brother, frowning and arms crossed, “I don’t need him to take care of me! I’m ten minutes older than him.”
He ran an exasperated hand back and forth on his forehead, This was turning into a mess, and he still had to check in on Y/N, to see how she was holding up with all this. And just because she could deal with broken glass, doesn’t mean she had to. “Of course you don’t, Rebecca,” he sensed Grant’s protest before it even came and he rushed. “Which is why you take care of each other, right?”
A moment paused before his kids nodded hesitatingly at him. He smiled in relief, “Right, so, Bec, why don’t you help your brother with his suitcase, make sure that everything is packed, and, Grant, make sure your sister is safe. Does that sound like a plan?”
Bucky didn’t wait for their answer, as another crash! came from downstairs, causing the three of them to flinch and him to run downstairs to calm down his wife before she took revenge on their dinnerware set.
“Baby? Darlin’? Doll?” he stammered out nervously, approaching the kitchen in his slippers and Y/N’s slippers in his hands. “You’re not barefoot are ya?”
Instead of responding, she groaned in response. Bucky’s fight-and-flight kicked in and he rushed in to find his wife holding her hand in between her hands, elbows leaning down on the kitchen table. Beside her, was what seemed to be two crashed coffee mugs, surrounded in a pool of brown liquid, the bitter smell filling the kitchen. He sighed, eyes softening.
“Don’t worry your pretty head, darlin’,” leaning down on his knees, he placed the slippers down beside her feet, gently guiding her to wear them, but not before checking if there were any shards of broken ceramic. “Did you need anything before I go to clean this up?”
She shook her head, a fraction of the tension gathered in her shoulders having been let go of. Cautiously, he moved her towards their dining room table, pulling out a chair for her to sit down. Then, he set to work, quickly and efficiently, humming to himself to a tune playing on the radio.
Taking a couple of paper towels, he cleaned up the rest of the coffee, picking up the larger chunks of ceramic. Once he threw them out, he brewed another pot of coffee, and went to get the vacuum, cleaning the kitchen and dining areas. Y/N, staring into her hands still stained with coffee, absentmindedly lifted her feet and put them back down again, as Bucky passed around her chair.
By the time that he cleaned up, the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. Pouring his wife another cup, and adjusting it just how she likes, he placed it on the table, careful to put a coaster underneath. “Here ya go, baby.”
Smiling gratefully at him, though it didn’t reach her eyes, she went to take a sip of her drink. The way her hands were shaking didn’t escape Bucky’s eyes. Worried, he chewed his upper lip, and said, “Want me to go over the stats for one more time?”
Letting out a sharp exhale through her nose, she shook her head, “I’m fine, Buck.”
“Seriously?” he raised his eyebrows, a smirk forming on his lips. “Ten years and you’re still trying to pull that off?”
Swallowing down her coffee, she looked at him with an accusatory glance. “Well, I am fine, I don’t know why you’re reading between the lines about it.”
“C’mon, baby,” he pressed, taking her hands in his. “We’ve been over this, air travel is incredibly safe-”
Something inside her snapped, “Yeah, safe?” she scoffed. “Of course, how did I not think of that? There’s nothing safer than being thrown over the ocean at breakneck speed-”
“With alcohol,” he offered.
“Not enough of it,” she grumbled into her cup.
Bucky had to bite down the laugh that rose in his throat. “Fair enough,” smoothing his thumb back and forth, he leaned in and gave her a small kiss on her lips. “But, I’ll make it up to you every night…” he whispered in a low tone.
Yet her eyes were unfocused and hazy as he pulled back, taking his hands out of hers, and a sudden fear rose up in his throat. “Are you still wearing your pyjamas?” she asked, and Bucky swore he saw her eyes darken, and not in the way he preferred.
“I-uh, got busy trying to find the batteries for the video camera…”
“You’re still wearing your pyjamas, and your suitcase isn’t even packed,” she ran an anxious hand through her hair, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. Immediately he reached forward and took them out. “Great! Wonderful, just, amazing! No one’s suitcase is packed, and we’ve barely had time to make breakfast.”
Standing up, coffee cup still in her hands, she started pacing wildly around the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge, “And we don’t even have any bread! What kind of mother isn’t able to feed her children?” Her free hand started pulling at the hairs at the bottom of her neck. “We just have to cancel, there is no way we can get ready in time. The kids haven’t packed, our fridge is empty and-” she groaned, bending over and clutching her hip, which had just jutted into the edge of a counter.
Quickly, Bucky rushed over to her, pulling up her shirt to see how bad her injury was. “God, honey, are you alright?”
“I-I,” her mind seemed to be working overtime, trying to reconcile her fears with her physical pain. “I’m- yeah - I’m alright.”
Giving her a forehead kiss, he wrapped his arms around her. He ran a comforting hand up and down her back. A couple of moments later, Y/N spoke up, “Sorry… sorry, I just, a little tense s’all.”
“Coffee’s gonna help that,” he teased.
Sighing, she placed the cup down, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m such a mess today.”
“No need to apologize, baby,” he pulled back and smiled at her. “How about you take something, just to relax a little?”
Bucky could see her almost giving in, before she hardened herself again, a more serious tone taking hold of her voice, replacing the hysteric one. “No, no. I need to be alert, something might happen to the kids.”
“I’ll pay attention to them?” he frowned at her.
Y/N gave him a playful ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look, before kissing his cheek. “By kids, I also meant you, Buck.”
“I am an incredibly mature father, and need I mention, five years older than you,” he justified.
“Baby, on our honeymoon I told you to watch our luggage for a couple of minutes, and when I came back from the washroom, you were walking backwards on the moving walkway,” she tilted her head affectionately to the side, straightening his shirt on his shoulders.
His face feigned shock before falling into a grin as he looked at his wife, “Ok, just… alright.”
Sighing, she moved with a renewed strength towards the fridge, “Alright, breakfast…”
“Actually,” he wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck. “I promised Grant pancakes if he packed quickly.”
“What?” she frowned, turning around to look at him.
“Yeah, uh, sorry I didn’t check with you before, and I mean I could just-”
Y/N shook her head, staring at him as if he had grown two heads, “Grant is packing?”
“I think so, Bec’s supposed to be helping him…”
She laughed, kissing him hard on his mouth, “Mmm,” she hummed, pulling back with a dreamy look on her eyes. “What would I do without you?”
“Don’t ask that question baby,” he looked at her with an equal amount of love. “Imagining a life without you hurts too much.”
Y/N snorted at the cheesy pick-up line, gently pushing his chest away from her, with a small peck to his cheek. “You dork,” shaking her head at Bucky’s mock hurt face.
“Your dork,” he smiled down at her.
Rolling her eyes lovingly, she headed towards the stairwell, calling her kids downstairs. Before she went up to their room, she said to Bucky, “You’re on breakfast duty, I’ll pack for you.”
As she headed towards the staircase, Bucky started rummaging through the pantry for the necessary ingredients. The commotion of his kids running down at their mother’s voice caused Bucky to go back into the kitchen entrance, sugar in hand, leaning against the wall.
In front of him, he saw Y/N with Grant plastered to her side, and Rebecca’s face buried into her stomach. His wife’s face lit up as she gazed down lovingly at her kids, “What’s wrong with you two monkeys today?”
“We thought you were going to die,” Grant said dramatically, a serious amount of fear in his voice.
“Oh, honey-”
“Yeah, and I really didn’t want to be eating Dad’s cooking for the rest of my life,” Rebecca cut off her mother, her voice coming out muffled.
Bucky gasped from the doorway, causing the three of them to look at him, “No pancakes for you, young lady!”
Her head turned in fear, shock written all over her face. Y/N sent him a reprimanding look, waving an accusatory finger at him. “Alright,” he dragged out slowly. “But only if you give your old man a hug!”
Without hesitation, Rebecca ran towards him, arms open wide, ready to make her amends. There were few things that Rebecca could easily live without, but her father’s pancakes were not one of them. Letting out a sigh of joy, Bucky wrapped his arms around his daughter, lifting her, giggling into the air, twirling around with her.
Finally, he set her down and looked down at her cheery face, “Can I get pancakes now?”
“Yeah, come on, bug,” he ruffled her hair lovingly. “Let’s go make some breakfast!”
“Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Y/N’s voice came from halfway up the stairs.
Bucky grinned at the sight of his son walking towards him with the video recorder in his hands, “Nah,” winking at Grant. “I promised pancakes, didn’t I?” Shaking his head, as his kids ran into the kitchen, grabbing the rest of the ingredients they needed for breakfast, he started recording again and tried to figure out what he had done to get so lucky.
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Crunch.
Crunch.
“Sweetheart,” he turned towards his wife, furiously picking away at an extra large bag of caramel popcorn. “Maybe now’s a good time for some meds, huh? Dr. Meier gave you the Xanax to take.”
Crunch. Crunch.
“Y/N?” he ran his hand up and down her thigh, trying to calm her down. They were waiting for their flight to start boarding, and her anxiety and nervousness was becoming more and more palpable as the flight got closer and closer. “Waddya say, baby? You want some Xanax?”
“I want-” a bit of kernel flew out of her mouth, and she immediately replaced it with another. “I want to finish this bag of popcorn before we get on the plane, otherwise-” throwing another couple into her mouth “-they’ll charge for an extra carry-on, and besides, don’t wanna weigh down the plane.”
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
He laughed, “Weigh down the plane?”
Nodding, dead serious as her jaw started moving faster and faster, “The more stuff there is, the more gravity pulls down. The more we weigh, the more the plane has to put in effort to move, and this bag weighs around-”
“800 grams?” he eye-balled.
“Exactly, that’s almost a kilogram, and-”
Bucky sighed, and turned to face her in his seat, “I think you’re overreacting a little, baby.”
“Overreacting?” she scoffed. “No, no, no, no, no. I’m just considering the possible risks and consequences of flying in the air-”
“With a bag of popcorn?” he raised his eyebrows, a light teasing smirk on his face, though his eyes were filled with worry.
She took a deep breath, “Yeah, a bag of popcorn… I’m overreacting aren’t I?”
“Just a little, baby. Take a couple deep breaths for me alright?” Knowing that Y/N would rather die than have her children see her so scared and vulnerable, he fished into his pocket for some spare cash, giving a ten-dollar bill each to Grant and Rebecca.
“Kids, why don’t you go get some snacks for yourselves,” he gestured with his head to the convenience store to his right. At their exclamations of joy, he felt his wife tense up beside him. “Nothing too sugary though, ok? And be back in ten minutes,” he pointed to their wristwatches.
As the children skipped off, chattering excitedly, a dam broke loose in Y/N. Leaning over her knees, she held her flushed face between her hands, the bag of popcorn dropped to the side. “Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.”
Bucky grabbed his water bottle and nudged her leg with it, “Drink slowly.”
They spent the next couple of minutes in silence, a comforting hand on her thigh, as the airport buzzed around them. Robotic voices coming on and off, reminding travellers to not leave their baggage unattended, rushed footsteps running to and from terminals.
Though this wasn’t the first time in ten years that they were flying, it was the first time that they were flying as a family, over water. Bucky had been on enough planes in his life to know that the safety demonstration would change, adding the fear of being stranded alone in the middle of the ocean with a group of strangers you didn’t know.
Gosh, even if he let himself think about it for too long, his heart would start to pound. He had no idea how to comfort and protect his family in such a situation.
What scared him even more was the fact that he was more concerned about that, than the actual risk of crash-landing in the sea.
“I’m sorry, I just-” Y/N’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. She rubbed her hand nervously against the side of her face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“No, no, baby,” he protested, a hardened tone in his voice. “Nothing is wrong with you, nothing.”
Her voice broke as she looked at him with tears in her eyes, “Yeah?” scoffing. “You know I hate it when you lie to me.”
“I wasn’t lying,” she looked down at her hands again. Reaching with his hand, he lifted her chin to meet her eyes again. “I’m not lying, Y/N, I’m not. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I swear I was normal, remember our honeymoon?” she frowned, searching his face for sympathy. “I wasn’t scared like this back then-”
“Baby,” he cradled her face in his hands, pressing his forehead onto hers. “You don’t need to justify this to me, people change.”
She chuckled humorously, averting her eyes away from his, “Like this?”
He frowned at her, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I dunno,” she murmured, then sighed, looking at her husband with a newfound confidence. “Like, I just, the kids are growing up so fast, and… I can’t imagine having them leave us in nine years, let alone if something were to happen to them… now, and we lose them sooner.”
“Oh, honey-”
“And-and I know the chances are slim, but they’re never zero,” she clasped her hands in his, intertwining their fingers, looking down lovingly at the sight. “I just can’t bear to think of something happening to you guys… I guess that now that I have so much to lose I-I…”
Bucky smiled at the sight of his wife beside him. Reaching around her, he pulled her into a side hug, tucking her head underneath his chin. “What can I do to help?” he murmured into her hair.
“Promise me that nothing’ll happen to us.”
His eyes glossed over, a lump rising in his throat, “I can’t do that, baby. I can’t make you a promise I can’t keep.” Sighing, he wrapped his arms tighter around her. “Anythin’ other than that.”
She shook his head, turning around in her seat as best she could so she could hug him properly. “There’s nothing else.”
Pushing her gently away from his body, Bucky made firm eye contact with her, “I can’t promise you that, baby. But, I can promise you that whatever happens, I’ll be with you, and I’ll do everythin’ I can to protect our family.” He swallowed thickly, trying to prevent his voice from breaking. “I’m sorry, that’s all I can promise.”
A tear fell down his wife’s face, as a somewhat genuine smile lit up her face. Shaking her head, a couple of more tears fell, as she placed his hands on his cheeks and kissed him hard, trying to convey everything that she was feeling for him. Once they had to pull back for air, she kept her hands on his face, lovingly caressing his stubble, “Don’t apologize...”
“You’re still nervous, aren’t you?”
“Just hold me, Buck,” she murmured.
They hugged again, pressing themselves to each other like their life depended on it. Their children soon came back, each with a couple of goodies in their hands. Thankfully, they hadn’t caught on to their mother’s distressed state.
Rebecca, with a wide grin on her face exclaimed, “Awesome! Group hug!” She jumped into her mother’s lap, causing her to groan lightly, but she still brought her into the embrace, met with Bucky and Grant’s glowing smiles. Wrapped up in a cocoon of her family, it was easy for Y/N to forget about what she was nervous of.
And although it came barreling back towards her as she sat down and buckled herself into her seat, a sweet wink from Bucky two seats down acted like a salve to her wounds, as she reached into her purse for the small orange bottle. It wasn’t easy, she had to give herself that, travelling overseas for the first time with her family.
Motion sickness seemed to hit Grant a little too hard, and he spent half of his time in the washroom, and on top of that, Rebecca had fallen asleep on her lap, so she couldn’t go and check on her son, though she was itching to. Yet, when she remembered who her son’s father was, her worries were soothed.
Smiling to herself, she finally allowed herself to be excited for what was about to come. A much-needed tropical vacation for the Barnes family, filled with lazy days by the pool, and nights spent alone in her room with her husband, who, speaking of which, was doing a mini-dance in the aisle for guessing the plot to a trashy mystery novel correctly.
She threaded her fingers through Rebecca’s hair, still in her lap, and pinched Grant’s cheek hard, it was good to see some colour return to his face, as he sipped on some Ginger Ale.
Bucky, having made a full turn of the plane to get to his wife’s side, leaned down and kissed Rebecca’s cheek, who stirred softly in her sleep. Then he gave his wife the same treatment.
“Feelin’ alright?” he asked, worry still etched into his brow. “Want something to eat, drink?” she shook her head, a dopey smile on her face, she thought she was going to burst if Bucky kept looking at her like that. “I can relieve you of lap duty?” Gesturing with his eyes to their daughter. Still she shook her head, reaching out to caress his hair. “What’s gotten into you? You’re sure you haven’t taken any Xanax?”
“Not one bit,” she held up her head proudly. “Why would I need some silly pill, when I have you?”
“That so?”
“Mmhm.”
“You dork,” he scoffed, his eyes crinkling merrily.
“Your dork.”
“Not scared of flying anymore?” he murmured, getting lost in the contours of her face.
Instead of answering, she pulled him in for a kiss, clasping her hands around his neck. Humming, she pulled back, and Bucky, still with his eyes closed, pressed his forehead against hers, “I may have lied,” she whispered in a guilty tone. “I did take some drugs.”
“I know, baby,” he smiled into her eyes. “M’proud of you.” And just to reinforce the point home, he kissed her again.
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Tags: @pearlruth
If you enjoyed this, you can read my other reader-insert oneshot here. I also have an ongoing series with an OFC here. Taglists are open for any of my works, please send me an ask or a message to be added!
I really enjoyed writing this family dynamic, and would love to write more oneshots for them, let me know if that would be something you would like! Thanks a ton for reading!
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mandonnan · 19 hours ago
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𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮
for jade @spaceodditybarnes, happy birthday bitch (challenge)
a beefy bucky on the run but all he wants is you
warnings: teeth rotting fluff, lovers on the run, angst
Length: 3.3k
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“James?” You turned wildly as he grabbed your hand and pulled you into an alleyway. He raised a hand to cover your mouth to silence any words you had wanted to say. His eyes were determined, but still careful, and you could see that he was afraid.
“Shhhh,” the top of his cap shielded your view of the sky, but his steel blue eyes were the only thing you needed. “I have to leave. I have to run- I-“
He lowered his hands from your mouth as you shook your head. “I don’t understand, what happened?”
He looked down the alleyway quickly before refocusing on you. “They think I killed someone. Someone important, a king I think. But I didn’t- I swear I didn’t-“ he looked so terrified that you wouldn’t believe him, so you shushed him and held his face.
“I know you. You didn’t.” You searched his face for stability, hoping he would see that you believed him. He nodded and raised his hands to your cheeks. His eyes were so full of love and passion and fear when he looked down at you. Your sweet James, who had gone for a walk and to get some plums for your breakfast in the market, was suddenly terrified and hiding in an alleyway like a hardened criminal. You knew what he used to be, before he saved himself and found purpose. You knew he had killed and tortured, but your sweet James would never become that again. Not as long as he had you.
“I don’t have much time.” His gloved hand pressed against your lips softly. “I had to see you, I needed to tell you that I-“
He paused as he watched you intently. Your stomach dropped. Part of you knew what he wanted to say, but the other part wanted to hear him say it.
“Come with me.” He asked breathlessly, his hands still on your shoulders. “I lo-“
He was cut off by the roaring of a police car as it went by. He turned and shielded you with his body to deter being recognized, but you wanted nothing more than to hear those words he didn’t finish. “James I-“
He turned back to you with a ferocity. “I can’t put you in danger. I won’t. If I can’t protect you, if we aren’t safe together out there, I can’t-“
You grabbed his face and kissed him, hard, like your life depended on it. He breathed you in, holding you up and against him so that every part of him touched every part of you. When you parted, out of breath, you looked up at him with a smile. “Meet me across the bridge in an hour?”
He nodded with the biggest smile you had ever seen and kissed your forehead. “I’ll be there. Get what you need, I have to go get something from my place.”
He squeezed your hand, still breathless, and leant in to kiss you one last time before backing out of the alley. “Don't be late.”
-
You were 20 minutes early to the bridge, a small purse containing only the necessities. You were calm at first, but then a helicopter passed above, followed by three police cars careening down the street. You swallowed hard and shook your head lightly. If anyone could outrun a helicopter— it was James. You decided not to draw attention to yourself and slouched nonchalantly by a streetlamp. Wherever he came from, he would see you. He would know you.
It honestly didn’t matter that you had acted so nonchalantly, as not half an hour later, Bucky came barreling onto the bridge, followed by a parade of police officers and avengers. He made a beeline for you, scooping up your hand and tugging you along. “James!”
There was a shift in your pursuers demeanor, and you could have rolled your eyes at the man holding your hand. It was clear he hadn’t thought of, or cared, about what it must look like. To the agents and police chasing you, it looked like he grabbed a random civilian off the street to use as leverage. You tightened your grip on him and let him lead you off the bridge and through a string of alleyways. You breathed a sigh of relief as a few cars flew past you, not realizing you had ducked past. He caged you in his arms to protect you, before turning to whisper down, “We need to figure out a plan if we-”
You shrieked as a dark shape jumped from above, tackling him to the ground with ease. You recognized one of the avengers from before, but this was someone you haven't seen normally. They wore a black suit, and a mask covering their face— it almost looked like a cat, and your stomach dropped at the ferocity in their motions. Bucky fell across the alley as he was kicked by his attacker. “James!”
You saw blood on his face appear, and his attacker looked at you in confusion. “Go! Get out of here! Run-”
He was knocked to the side as Bucky swung his leg up to topple him, his head knocking against the wall and stunning him. You reached for his hand again and squeezed it before exiting the alleyway. You screeched to a halt as you were met with a barricade of police cars and agents. His face drained of color— you were trapped in.
Your hands flew to either side of his face as he looked wildly around. You knew there was no choice anymore, they would take him in and now it was your job to protect him. “James- James!”
He looked into your eyes, one hand on his backpack strap and one on your waist.
“It’s okay. It’s me. I’m right here.” You did your best to comfort him as the sounds of guns cocking and radios echoed around him. You wanted him to know that you were there, and he didn’t have to run anymore. “It’s me, it’s okay. I won’t leave you.”
The look of fear in his eyes grew as agents started towards the two of you. By instinct he wrapped his metal arm around you, holding you close to him. The agents stopped and raised their guns to him, thinking he was using you as a shield. You knew they wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. You knew him, your James, and you knew that he would protect you above anything.
“James, James! You have to listen to me!” You looked up at him and planted your hands on his face again, his stubble scratching at your palms. “They have to take you.”
“They’re going to take you away from me.” He choked out, and you saw a vulnerable side of him you had never seen. Your throat tightened as he looked over your face with adoration. “T-they want to hurt you!”
You shushed him, seeing a few of the agents watching you curiously. The heroes who had been pursuing him watched from the sidelines, and you noticed Steve watching you intently. “Never. It’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time. I will never leave.”
He relaxed only slightly, his arm still around you, but he kept a careful eye on his pursuers. “I don’t want them to hurt you- I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” You reassured him, stroking the side of his face lovingly. He leaned into your touch and inhaled your scent, knowing he might never see you again as a free man. “You’ll protect me.”
His head leant against yours, letting you hold and cradle his face in your hands. There were men in SWAT suits inching in, but you could tell they were waiting for you to move. “I’m going to back away now, but I’ll be right here okay? I’ll be right here.”
They moved in quickly as you detached from him, and his eyes opened wide as he felt someone tug you roughly away. A surprised gasp left your lips as someone’s hand clamped around your waist to secure you.
He reached for you as they pinned him down, crying out as they pulled you away from him. You need the padding of whoever snatched you, but in vain. You struggled to get to him, watching as his fearful eyes hit the pavement and they used some monstrosity to restrain him.
“Stop! He won’t hurt you!” You screamed over the sound of him pleading for you. “Stop it!”
You felt an arm around your shoulders and looked up to fight whoever had grabbed you, but Captain Rogers stood beside you. Your movements ceased as he gave you a look, saying silently that it would be so much easier for Bucky if you stayed still.
“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m okay. You’re okay.” Your eyes turned back to James to see his face still pressed firmly into the ground, arms restrained by metal and a needle prepped by his neck. Your breath hitched as it sunk into his flesh, his eyes becoming foggy as he murmured your name.
“James…”
Steve gently tugged you towards a car. “They’ve agreed to let you stay with him wherever he goes, for the time being.”
He ushered you in before sitting in the backseat beside you himself. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re important to him. So you’re important to me.”
You swallowed roughly as you watched the men carry him into a van. “What will they do to him?”
Steve could see your fear. He was kind; James had told you stories about him that nearly brought him to tears. Your sweet brain-scrambled Bucky remembered his friend during his worst time, and he remembered their friendship like a lifeline, “I won’t let them hurt him.”
You nodded and silently endured the rest of the drive to wherever they were taking you. Your palms shook as you thought of him, alone, in that van tied up and drugged like an animal. All you could see was the image of him reaching for you as they threw him down, calling out your name in fear. You wished you could have broken through to him, held his face and stroked his hair and told him that everything would be alright. Instead you clawed hopelessly and watched.
They brought you to a garage of a loading dock, and Steve offered a hand to help you out. He reminded you of James in several ways— no matter how much they had tormented his mind, he was always a gentleman. You gladly took it and let him lead you through the garage and into the warehouse. Inside, there was a cell, made of thick glass and metal restraints. It was a hulking thing, made of fear and ignorance. They didn’t know him like you did.
Steve’s voice brought you out of the dread you felt upon seeing it. “They want to ask you some questions.”
You nodded as a man approached, navy suit and clean white hair carrying his importance. “I’m agent Ross, I understand you know Mr. Barnes? Miss…”
You offered your name and shook his hand, praying he didn’t mean James any mal-intent. “Yes, I know him. I’m his…”
You trailed off, arms crossing gently as you thought about your relationship with Bucky. You had known him for over a year, and it had been a year filled with smiles and love. It was unnerving how they treated him, like he was a monster, even though you knew otherwise. “Whatever you think he did— he didn’t. He isn’t a monster.”
Agent Ross looked at your reaction curiously. “He is responsible for killing hundreds of people over the course of 60 years; he was an extremely dangerous assassin who was capable of anything— how would he not be capable of this?”
You were beginning to be furious, but you composed yourself for his sake. “That wasn’t him. He isn’t that person anymore— he’s kind, and loved.”
“Hey may be different now but there are still parts of him, traces, maybe, that link back to the Winter Soldier.” Ross nodded to Captain America and exited before you could defend him any longer.
“They said you can see him when he wakes up but…” He looked at the cell. “He’ll be restrained.”
You nodded, swallowing hard, but determined to put a good face on for James. The door sounded, and the van carrying him backed in. There were armed soldiers around everywhere, and you became hyper-aware of their guns. He was barely conscious when they unloaded him, wheeling his body straight to the cell and fastening him in. Steve murmured that he was needed upstairs and left your side, only to be replaced by a stone-faced agent in a dark suit. The look he gave you was unsettling, and you wanted to hide your face.
“They don’t know when he’ll wake up fully, it might be best for you to leave.” He reached to grab your arm but you pulled away.
“I will wait patiently here.” You made a petty point to swat his arm away, but as his jaw hardened you realized you might not have a choice anymore. His grip securely fastened around your wrist and he began to pull you out of the room hastily.
“Get off of her.” Bucky's tired voice echoed from the chamber he was strapped to as he looked at the agent's hand around your arm. The agent scoffed, but as Bucky's metal arm tightened, the metal gently whirring and scratching against the cuffs, they made a squealing sound of protest. You knew if you were in danger something in him would take over and he would break through, but for your sake he let them strap him down. Something inside of you hoped that they could pardon him, and he would have a chance at a normal life.
He glared at the agent who tried to pull you back, the restraints rattling in vain as he tried to get to you. With a glare you shook the agent off and stepped further into the cell. “It’s okay James, I’m here.”
“I’ll be here the whole time. It’s okay.” You swept the hair away from his eyes and caressed his face. He didn’t seem to care that an entire team of agents and heroes were watching you, in fact he seemed to relish your touch more than ever.
“Promise?” It was a soft whisper, and his deep baritone voice shone through only slightly.
You rubbed his metal arm in comfort. “Of course.”
He eyed the agent behind you, glaring at him as he kept his eyes on you. The agent shied away and Bucky seemed to breathe out in a short chuckle of victory.
“James…”
He looked up as you scolded him, settling on his lap to spend whatever moments you had left before they decided to pick his brain apart. He wanted nothing more than to go back to your apartment and hold you while you watched some old movie that he would barely pay attention to. Instead he would hold you in his lap on the couch, his head resting against yours as he breathed you in, watching you giggle and smile as you watched.
You hated seeing him immobilized, metal arm chained down and horrid straps across his chest, but you wanted to make sure he knew you were there. “Hey, as soon as we get out of here you better buy me another bag of plums. You owe me.”
He looked up at you and the side of his lip ghosted up in a half smile. “Deal.”
You heard an agent clear his throat, subtly suggesting that time was up. You turned to Bucky and leant in so only he could hear. “I’ll be right upstairs, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”
He nodded and looked down, his hand tightening as he thought of you leaving to where he couldn’t see. You reached to peck his cheek gently. “I’ll see you soon.”
-
Bucky watched, a dull look on his face, as Sharon spoke with Steve. When he had finally become himself again after the fuzziness of attacking the base as the Winter Soldier wore off, he had shot up in a panic. He didn’t remember seeing you, hearing your voice, or even anyone talking about you. When he saw Steve he had begged to know where you were, but his friend had no answers. He himself didn’t know your whereabouts during the attack, much less after.
“Well I brought something else too.” Sharon looked at the car and nodded, and the back door opened slowly. You stuck a foot out, lifting yourself out to come into his view. Bucky’s head lifted as he watched you emerge, and he wasted no time in opening the door and looking upon you in the air.
You watched him close the door and eye you in relief. You crossed the space to meet him quickly, jumping into his arms and laughing as he caught you with ease. His nose buried in your hair to smell you, not fully believing that you were there. You pulled back to pepper kisses across his face, smiling as he protested with a soft grunt. He grabbed the back of your head and stuck his lips on yours to keep you from embarrassing him any longer. You grinned into the kiss, knowing you were making him blush behind his grumpy and stubborn nature.
“Are you too embarrassed to let me kiss your face James?” You whispered as he separated, his lips resting on your rose to give you a sweet peck.
“Prick in the car would never let me live it down.” He grunted, eyes downcast to look at your face. He relished you, your love and affection. His arms still cradled your waist, holding you against him as you held his shoulder for support.
You slid your eyes past to the man in the passenger seat, who gave you a polite smile and a wave. You waved back, to Bucky's disdain, and slid your eyes to Steve. He looked between the two of you with content, proud of his friend.
“Steve,” Bucky cleared his throat. “This is my…” he trailed off for a moment before looking down at you in hesitation. “Uh…”
“I think what this idiot is trying to do is introduce us.” You stuck your hand forward to shake his hand as Bucky grunted again. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain.”
“Steve. Call me Steve.” He smiled and shook your hand gently and smiled at Bucky. “I’ve never seen him at a loss for words before.”
Bucky shot him a look discreetly, but you tapped his chest in disapproval. “The embarrassment will be good for you in the long run.”
He huffed something under his breath. “Well we’ll be on the run for a long time sweetheart.”
“Plenty of time to humble you then.” The way you looked at him, hand on his chest as he held you by your waist, like he was the only thing for you made his heart sink.
“Are you prepared to do that? To never look back, to sacrifice everything you’ve ever known for me?” He looked down, clearly ashamed of what he had done to put you in this situation. “I can’t ask you to abandon your life for me— I won’t ask you to.”
His index finger rubbed circles on the bare skin under your shirt. “You don’t have to. I would, in a heartbeat.”
He looked at you in subtle awe, his hand tightening around your waist. “Sweetheart I-”
“Run away with the love of my life? What, like it’s hard?” A grin stretched across your face as the corners of his mouth picked up in a gentle smile.
“I…” His metal arm wound around your waist, the other moving up your back to hold you close. “I didn’t get to say it before and you still followed me through hell— I love you.”
Tears brimmed at your eyes; the words you had always wanted to hear coming from him was like a sweet relief. His puppy eyes and sweet smile reminded you that he was yours, your Bucky. Even though he was in danger, he was yours and you were his.
“About time, James.”
tagging some moots: @tinymalscoffee @extremelyblackandwhite@midnightf @certainaesthetic @buckyhoney @bloomingbucky @buckyblues
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blissfullybarnes · 19 hours ago
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fools rush in masterlist
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“It’s you. It’s always been you. No matter how much time has passed, no matter who I’m with, it’s always been you and it will always be you that I want by my side.”
Six years after your breakup your ex invites you to his wedding and you’re forced to confront two truths you’ve been trying to run from; you broke his heart and you’re still deeply in love with him.
playlist
chapter 1
chapter 2
chapter 3
epilogue
word count: ---
series blurbs
(coming soon!)
main masterlist
send me a message to be on the taglist!
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blissfullybarnes · 19 hours ago
Text
fools rush in playlist
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“It’s you. It’s always been you. No matter how much time has passed, no matter who I’m with, it’s always been you and it will always be you that I want by my side.”
Six years after your breakup your ex invites you to his wedding and you’re forced to confront two truths you’ve been trying to run from; you broke his heart and you’re still deeply in love with him.
can’t help falling in love // haley reinhart 
happier // olivia rodrigo
champagne problems // taylor swift
skinny love // bon iver
your song // ellie goulding
masterlist
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imaginedreamwrite · 21 hours ago
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If You Love Her: Part 8
It had been three hours since you’d both arrived at the party, and Bucky had been kept away from you by his mom with every attempt possible, from meeting old friends to his mom’s friends to help set up some games. He kept his eyes on you as much as possible, watching you interact with his sisters and his nieces and nephews. The ease of slowly settling into you was a relief for him; it was good to see you relaxing and having fun at a regular party with ordinary people.
You looked beautiful, ethereal, with tiny giggles leaving your lips and the stain from Becca’s cupcakes on your lips. Despite your best efforts to get it off, there was some stuck on the corner of your lips that Bucky wanted so desperately to kiss away.
“Why did you bring her here?” The harshly hissed words were taken by the side of the backyard, whispered into a private conversation.
“I brought her as my guest, ma-“
“She is your job!” Her eyebrows were furrowed, her silver-streaked brown hair was pulled away from her face, the wrinkles on her skin prominent from the displeased look on her face. “Bucky! She is your job! Would she not let you come without her? Is she trying to “
“God, mom!” He groaned and rolled his eyes. “No! I brought her here because I wanted her to meet you-“
“James Buchanan Barnes!” She placed her hands on her hips and stared him down with disapproving eyes and a frown on her face. She was displeased that he brought you; that was the basest truth; the displeasure of him getting the ‘job’ back home was unexpected.
His mom didn’t know the truth. His mom didn’t know that you and Bucky had feelings for each other. His mom didn’t realize that the two of you were teetering on the edge of a relationship with few spoken words and the soft gender touches. His mom didn’t know that you weren’t just a job to Bucky; you were all he could think about.
“She is an heiress! She has more money in one bank account than all of us could ever have! And you bring her home to your nephew’s party like she has any idea-“
“Mrs. Barnes!” The conversation came to a screeching halt when a familiar voice called his mom’s name.
“You invited Sharon?” He hissed, crossing his arms over his chest. He turned his head and watched his tall, blonde ex-girlfriend moving through the crowd with a bouquet tucked into her arm and her blonde hair curled to frame her face.
“It’s been so long since you’ve seen each other, Bucky.” His mom’s frown was replaced with a broad smile and a certain spark in her eyes.
“We’ve been broken up for years, ma. Why would you invite her here?” His attention moved past Sharon to your image, his blue eyes studying you as you stood near his middle sister. The two of you were engaged in a conversation, a laugh leaving your lips, when one of his nephews went slamming into the back of your legs with a nerf gun that was almost bigger than he was.
“You were so good together.” His mom placed her hand on his arm and squeezed before she greets Sharon with a friendly and affectionate smile as she stopped before them.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Sharon hugged his mom and handed her the flowers, and then she glimpsed at Bucky. Her smile was slow-building; the little spark in her eyes stemmed from attraction and appreciation.
He once loved the way she looked at him. He once loved how she would place her hand on his arm or his chest and instantly soothe his worries or anxieties. He used to love the late-night conversations and early morning coffee with rum or Bailey’s.
Now, he had a taste for coconut rum and vanilla ice cream, coffee with overly sweet creamer that tasted like chocolate and marshmallows. He no longer wanted those late-night conversations about property taxes on homes they could buy together or responsibilities for people their age.
He no longer saw the blonde before him as the end all, as the final goal of his future.
Sharon no longer made him feel as if he was walking on air. Sharon hadn’t given him that feeling of inescapable desire that used to leave him breathless.
“Hi, Bucky,” Sharon greet him with a kiss on his cheek and a hug, the smell of her perfume burning his nose, her hands wrapped around him feeling like barbed wire, “how have you been?
“Working,” Bucky answered bluntly, his attention moving past Sharon to you.
You were no longer conversing with his sister or playing with his nephew. You were watching Bucky and Sharon with a frown on your face and your eyes slightly widened. Your hands were by your sides, your fingers twitching and pulling at the seams of your pants. You looked torn. You looked like your heart was in your hand beating, and however Bucky reacted, would be the difference between your heart getting crushed or held carefully.
“Your mom never mentioned you bringing the little princess along,” Sharon laugh and placed her hand on his shoulder.
“I didn’t know, Sharon.” His mom so quickly came to her defence. “I don’t know why he did.”
“Because she is-“
“Your job, Bucky. It is your job to be her bodyguard. It is your job to keep her safe, and for you to come to visit your family, you needed to bring her.” His mom rolled her eyes.
“You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” Bucky came to your defence, even against his mom. “Y/N is not some spoiled little rich kid-“
“That’s exactly what she is, Bucky.” Sharon looped her arm through his. “It’s nice you brought her here, but you don’t have to pretend-“
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Bucky pushed her arm off his, staring glaringly at Sharon first and then his mom. “You have no right to talk about her that way. Y/N is not some spoiled little rich kid. You have no idea the kind of person she is-“
“And you do? Shit, Bucky! You are her bodyguard! Are you sleeping with her too? Is that why you’re defending her so valiantly? Are you screwing her?” His mom reached for him; she reached for his hand.
“Oh, my fuck!” He threw his head back and groaned, his eyes screwed tight. “Fuck me! Are you shitting me right now? Is that what you think this is all about? You think I brought Y/N because I’m sleeping with her?”
“Bucky, maybe we should go talk-“ Sharon reached for his hand, another attempt to touch him again.
Bucky sidestepped her. He stepped away from them both.
“You still don’t approve of what I’m doing with my life. You didn’t want me to go into the army; you didn’t want me to have a career as a bodyguard. You don’t want me-“
“I want you to settle down, Bucky! You’re in your ‘30’s! It’s time to find a wife and start having kids-!”
“And you think I would choose Sharon?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw ticking.
“You and Sharon had such chemistry. You were so good together.” His mom stood by her side; she chose Sharon.
“If we were so good together, then why’d she cheat on me while I was enlisted?” Bucky was going to be physically sick by what his mother was doing, by the way, she was talking about you.
“If you would’ve been there!-“
“You can’t be serious right now, ma! I was overseas fighting in the army! And you…Of course you’re blaming me for her cheating. Of course you wouldn’t dare blame Sharon fucking Carter-!”
The tension between the three was threatening to boil over. The pressure was threatening to spill and create a torrential storm that no one would recover from.
“Bucky!” Becca approached with haste, panic in her voice. “Y/N needs-“
The sound of camera shutters and the growing sound of questions from paparazzi hounding you had pulled him away. He turned his back to his mom and started stalking away from them both, his shoulders taut and rigid.
“Bucky!” His mom called after him. “This is why you shouldn’t have brought her here! Look what she did!”
Bucky stopped. His hands were balled into fists by his sides, and he turned his head to look back at the two women, one he would always love despite her efforts to control his decisions and the other he detested. “I have to wonder who let them in.”
He turned back and broke through the crowds. He came to your side and wrapped his arm around your shoulders while you were struggling to try and break through the paparazzi who found you, who were blinding you with the flash of their camera’s, nearly sending you into a panic attack as you grappled with their questions and their prodding.
“Back the hell up!” Bucky yelled, the intensity behind his voice making them part. He kept you close to him; he kept you guarded as he led you out of the backyard to the car parked at the end of the street. He saved you as protected from the cameras as he could, shielding you with his body as he opened the door and shuffled you in. He closed the door and ran around the front, hopping into the driver’s side as the cameras were still flashing.
“Bucky-“ he ignored your attempt to talk to him by starting the vehicle and throwing it into gear. He sped out of the parking spot he had and tore away from the house, leaving his mother and his ex-girlfriend standing on the driveway.
“Bucky-“ you tried again.
“Don’t,” his voice was clipped as he sped away, “don’t you dare try and apologize. You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong.”
When Bucky had slowed down, when he put enough distance between the house and yourselves, he slowed down and reached for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
“I’m sorry,” Bucky lift the back of your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on your skin before he turned your hand over and placed another kiss on your palm, “that isn’t how I wanted it to go, princess.”
“You could…I could arrange to have Clint grab me. You could…go back.” You shift in your seat. “That blonde woman who kissed your cheek…she was pretty….”
“No,” Bucky’s answer was immediate, “I’m not going back. We’re not going back. We’re going to grab dinner, and then we’re going home. What’re you in the mood for, princess?”
There was silence in the vehicle, and then you answered slowly. “Cheesecake.”
“For dinner?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.
“My mom didn’t let me have a lot of rich dessert foods.” You hid your face in the right side of the passenger’s seat, embarrassed.
“Have you never had cheesecake?” Bucky asked while the underlying question of ‘what the hell was wrong with your mom’ was at the tip of his tongue.
“I’ve also never had a corn dog. I’ve never been to an amusement park.”
Bucky slammed on the breaks and pulled off to the side of the road. He stopped the car and shoved the gear into the park before he shifted in his seat and turned his way.
“What? What’s wrong?” You turned and glanced out the back window for any reason why he would’ve stopped. “Why are we stopped?”
“I should have your parents sued for child endangerment. What kind of parents doesn’t let their daughter go to the fair? Or have cheesecake? Or a fucking corn dog?” Bucky was in a state of disbelief.
“My parents.” you mumbled, embarrassment coming back full force, “I mean, Clint did his best to give me normalcy my parents didn’t allow, but the whole amusement park and fair foods, rich cheesecake stuff was forbidden. It was athleticism and scholarships and studying instead of having fun.”
“Change of plans,” Bucky put the car into drive and took off again, back to the city, “we’re not going home. I’m taking you to Coney Island.”
“Coney Island?” You frowned. “Why?”
“No one deserves to go through life without eating fair food and riding a roller coaster until they get sick.” Bucky reached for your hand and grabbed it again, holding it tightly.
“And cheesecake?” You bit your bottom lip.
Bucky laughed under his breath and shook his head. “Yeah, baby, and cheesecake.”
** **
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gogolucky13 · 23 hours ago
Text
Mean It
Summary: You and Bucky get trapped overnight in the safe house after a mission. Everything should be okay, except he's your ex and thanks to his carelessness, the situation gets a little more complicated.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 7,887
Warnings: Smut (sex pollen, slightly non/con only due to the circumstances but both parties are consenting, fingering, vaginal penetration). Swearing. Angst with a happy ending. (18+ only please).
A/N: This is my submission for @saiyanprincessswanie 2.5k follower challenge. I chose the trope sex pollen. Congratulations, Missy!! You deserve all the love and all the followers. You are truly such an amazing person. Anyways, hope you enjoy this! It was my first time writing sex pollen so hopefully it isn’t awful 😅 Happy reading! 💜💜
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A blur of white crystalline flecks swirls against the dark backdrop of nightfall, a taunting dance as you watch through a small window of the safe house. Staring dumbly, you helplessly watch as thick layers of snow blankets over the wooded area. On any other given night you’d find the scene beautiful, mesmerizing even, but not tonight, because this is not how things were supposed to go.
The mission was supposed to take a few hours. A simple in and out plan; get the intel and anything else seemingly worth of value, engage only if needed, and get home. Getting stuck overnight at the safe house was not part of the plan, but it seemed Mother Nature had other ideas when she decided to conjure up the biggest snow storm Eastern Europe has seen in years.
“Fuck me,” you grumble with a sigh, hands perched on your hips.
“As you wish,” a voice from behind replies in a teasing tone.
The comment elicits another sigh, a deeper one this time, full of frustration at the situation and annoyance for who you’re stuck with. Turning on the ball of your foot, you shoot daggers at your partner before rolling your eyes.
Bucky laughs at your exasperation, and it only spurs his teasing on more.
“Could be worse,” he muses, kneeling down in front of the old fireplace. He quickly gets to work on placing a few logs in the center, dousing them with lighter fluid and igniting a match. The room is instantly bathed in a warm, yellow glow.
“No,” you remark sternly, “It cannot be worse. This is my literal nightmare.” Each word is punctuated with the rough shrill of velcro coming undone as you walk away from the window. The sound slices through the air, along with the clicks of buckles before you remove your tactile vest completely and toss it harshly onto the worn couch in the middle of the room. “And to top it all off, tonight is date night.”
“Oh, date night?” Bucky asks in a mocking tone, complete with a faux puppy-dog pout.
Your leather gloves are ripped off your hands and slammed onto a small table by the couch, evidence of your dwindling patience. “Shut up.”
“What?” He chuckles, clearly enjoying the irritation emanating from you. “I just don’t understand what you see in the guy.” He casually walks over to the wooden dining table that sits off to the side.
Another ice cold stare, irritation hardening your jaw and the corners of your eyes. “Enough.”
This time, Bucky rolls his eyes and mumbles something under his breath you don’t quite catch. He turns around to begin sorting through the documents the two of you recovered from the Hydra base.
Gently chewing on the inside of your cheek, you take a moment to watch him and wonder how the two of you ended up here—and you don’t mean snowed in and trapped in a safe house for the night.
The bitter wall of resentment that’s been built up between you over time has left you emotionally drained and, if you’re being honest, deeply hurt. It wasn’t always this way, though. At one time, Bucky was your sole source of all things love and happiness, but he’s always known exactly what buttons to push.
Being partners stuck in a safe house is one thing. Being exes and stuck in a safe house is a whole different ballpark.
You now wish you would’ve agreed with Steve’s initial hesitancies to send you and Bucky on this mission alone, despite your reassurance you’ve both managed to maintain a professional relationship. Which is true.
Flashbacks to the earlier mission attest to that—your seamless fighting styles and communication haven’t been affected by the fallout of your relationship. Each mission is completed smoothly and efficiently with as little damage taken as possible. If only the two of you managed to figure out how to make it work outside the field, too.
“Hey,” Bucky’s voice brings you back to the present, “are you gonna help me with this? I”m not doing all this paperwork by myself.”
“Yes, I’m gonna help,” you grumble, marching over to him and snatching the paper he holds. “I want this done before we leave so we don’t have to worry about it when we get back.” You plop down into a chair, pulling out a Stark tablet from one of the black duffle bags, and begin the tedious task of documenting the details of the mission.
“And why is that?” Bucky questions nonchalantly, taking the seat across from you. “So you can go see what’s-his-face the second we get back?” He leans back in the chair, interlacing his fingers and placing his hands behind his head.
“You know his name,” you reply flatly, not even bothering to spare him a glance.
“Oh, right, Todd.”
“Tom.”
“Whatever.”
Finally, you look up to him from the tablet you hold. “What is your problem with him?” You ask, frustration lacing around the syllables, but there’s a hint of genuine curiosity hidden between the words.
“No problem,” Bucky replies smoothly with a shoulder shrug. “I just don’t think he’s good enough for you.” He holds your stare, daring you to look away as he speaks with conviction.
There’s a slight quirk to your brow, a sardonic laugh falling from your lips at his words. “What? And you were?”
Bucky’s hands fall to his lap, a tight clench growing in his jaw as he sighs deeply through his nose. He holds your gaze for a moment longer, serious and slightly sad, before he drops it to the table and responds, “Let’s just finish this.”
An hour or so passes, and you’re only halfway through the post-mission reports. You’ve silently cursed Steve for sending you on this mission only once or twice, but you’ve lost count of the times you’ve cursed SHIELD and their repetitive documentation. Bucky, in his typical fashion, has been minimal help with the true detailing of the mission happenings; usually only offering elaborate recalls of his super human abilities.
“You did not take down five Hydra agents with one bullet,” you comment evenly, continuing to type and ignoring his false recounts.
“Sure I did,” he responds. He sits back in the small wooden chair, propping his feet on the table as he tosses a small vial in his hands. “You were looking the other way.”
You suppress an eye roll, placing the tablet onto the table. “Stop fucking around before you break something,” you snap, fed up with his uselessness.
“Will you relax,” he replies calmly. “I’m not going to—“ but the rest of that sentence gets stuck in the back of his throat as he overshoots a toss and misses the glass cylinder.
It all happens in an instant—the vial catches on the tips of Bucky’s fingers, both jumping to your feet, yelling to not let it break. But as the vial crashes to the floor, the red liquid inside spilling onto the aged wooden floorboards, it feels like time slows to a complete standstill.
Silence settles over the cabin then. The faint crackling of the fire is the only noise as you and Bucky stare in shock at the small pool of scarlet. Waiting for something, anything to happen, but nothing comes.
“What the fuck, Bucky?!” You cry, the sound of your voice slicing through the thickened air. “What is wrong with you?!”
“It was an accident!”
“I told you to stop and look what happens! Why don’t you ever listen to me?!”
“Will you just re—“
“Don’t,” you retort, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Do not tell me to relax. We have no clue what was in that vial and now it’s all over the floor, and probably seeping into the air as we speak.” A gasp falls from your lips, slipping through a shaky hand that covers them, as panic begins to settle in. “Fuck, Bucky, we don’t know what was in there! What if it kills us?!” Your eyes grow wide, tears brimming at your lower lash line.
He sighs heavily. “Sweetheart, please take a deep breath. We’re not going to die.”
Any other time the pet name would’ve had you stopping, tossing a snide, and probably hurtful, remark at him to not call you that—that he can’t call you that anymore. But in this moment, it falls on deaf ears, and you unknowingly ignore the squeeze in your chest his terms of endearment always elicit.
“You don’t know that!” You feel a tear slip down your cheek and you step away from Bucky and the stain, beginning to pace in front of the fireplace. “Fuck, this is so bad.”
“Everything is going to be okay,” Bucky begins, reaching for his coat and sliding his arms into the sleeves. “I’m gonna go get the hazmat kit from the Quinjet, and I’ll clean it up.”
Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you look to him and nod.
“I’ll be right back.”
You watch as he slips out the front door, a gust of icy wind sweeping through the small living room. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around yourself in an effort to warm yourself and calm your nerves.
Bucky returns not even five minutes later with a hard, black case. In an attempt to save yourself from any of the harmful effects of the liquid, you remain on the other side of the room, and allow Bucky to clean up his literal mess. He removes his coat and places a mask over his face before slipping on a pair of rubber gloves. From inside the case, he pulls out a few microfiber towels and spray bottles. With your thumbnail lodged between your teeth, you anxiously watch him work in silence.
“Okay,” Bucky sighs, dropping the last towel inside a black bag. “It’s all cleaned up.” He gives the floor one last spray before taking the trash bag to the front door and tossing it outside. Then, he turns to you. Concern colors his features, crinkling his brow and softening the corners of his eyes. “Are you okay?”
Still in a slight state of shock, you can only nod, eyes wide in worry.
“Do you feel okay?” He presses, slowly walking towards you.
You quietly nod again.
When he gets about a foot away, he places two large hands—one warm, one cool—on your upper arms. A gentle squeeze from both to ensure you’re still with him, his eyes searching yours. “Y/n,” he tries, “tell me you’re alright.”
Blinking several times, you can feel traces of rogue tears trailing down the skin of your cheeks, but then you’re nodding your head and taking a deep breath. “I’m…I’m okay.”
His hands don’t move, and you would never admit it, but his touch has always been a source of comfort for you. Even now, when you no longer can seek him out for it. With one final squeeze to your arms, Bucky drops his hands to his side and he lets out a breath.
“Maybe we should call it a night.”
Bucky turns to walk back over to the table to begin collecting the files and tablet, sliding them into a bag. A weight still sits on your shoulders, your feet like lead, holding you in place by the fire. It heats your legs; the warmth seeping through the fabric of your tact pants, and it would be unbearable, except, you’re more concerned with the heat spreading from within.
“Y/n,” Bucky softly calls out to you, “bed?”
“Ye—yeah,” voice sticking, you clear your throat and try again, “Yeah, bed.” Without giving Bucky another glance, you sweep a shoulder against him. When you reach the door to one of the bedrooms, it shuts with a definitive slam.
On the other side, you stand with your back against the wooden slab, chest heaving as you try to ignore the obscure feeling that something is off. Instead, you kick off your boots and crawl into the bed. Normally, you would’ve whined and complained about the hard mattress and scratchy sheets, but your mind is miles away from this small cabin. It isn’t until you hear the distant sound of the other bedroom door closing that you attempt to get some sleep.
______________________________________________________________
It’s hot. So unbearably hot.
Your shirt and tact pants were discarded hours ago, leaving you only in your underwear and tank top; the blankets kicked off soon after. Even with the single window open in the middle of a snow storm, your body is still on fire. Sweat soaked through the thin sheets, dampening the fabric an uncomfortable amount. And as you continue to toss and turn, limbs thrashing from discomfort, you realize the sheets aren’t the only thing that’s damp.
You tried to ignore it. Tried to forget and tell yourself that’s not what this is. But as the minutes ticked by and your body grew hotter and hotter, the aching between your thighs screamed at you that this is definitely what you so desperately wished it wasn’t.
A fucking sex tonic.
Of course the one vial Bucky had to fuck around with consisted of a serum designed to make its recipients sexually aroused beyond reason; a feral experience until the ache is satiated.
You almost had enough sense to chastise yourself for not recognizing it sooner. The serum was only a myth until Steve and Nat found remnants of it on a mission a few months ago. Bruce was able to run some tests on it, and the findings even made the Hulk squirm.
But your mind is clouded with unquenched desire, the ache between your legs radiating into your lower abdomen now. A throbbing cramp has you curling over into the fetal position, a weak sob wracking through you as you press your face into the damp pillow, willing it all to stop.
From what you can remember of Bruce’s presentation, your options are very limited. You could wait for the serum to run its course, with the small chance it won’t send you into a pain induced coma. You could try to satiate the need yourself, but he warned this could also have a counter-effect, making the pain so unbearable you end up in a coma anyways. Or, and really what seems to be your only option, you engage in coitus.
Another cry rips from your lungs, the piercing pain continuing to uncomfortably pulsate under your skin, as you realize the only person who could help is the last person you would want to ask. Instead, you have a brief moment of lucidness and you allow your stubborn nature to take over.
Slowly, you shift to lay on your back, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes and trailing down your temples. With a shaky hand, you slide it under the elastic of your underwear in search of some relief. The fabric, damp and tacky with your arousal, brushes against your knuckles, but the second the pad of your middle finger touches your swollen clit, a sharp sting shoots up your body. It rips you apart, like a knife stabbing mercilessly at your insides and slicing you open; punishment for not doing what the serum is designed for.
A pitiful whine falls from your lips followed by a cry. It’s the only thing you can do as you roll back onto your side, pinching your legs together. The lust induced fever reaches unbearable heights, your consciousness waning when a new prickling sensation of needles all over your body takes over. It immediately has you resenting your stubbornness.
Then, a rough, almost desperate, knock breaks you from your thoughts. Through your delirium, it takes you a moment to gauge if it was real or not. But when you hear it again, you deduce it wasn’t a hallucinated side-effect of the serum.
On trembling limbs, you manage to get out of the bed. As you stand upright, you take a moment to grasp the nightstand. Dizziness swirls around your head, the room spinning as you attempt to discern up from down before taking the five, agonizing steps to the door.
With great effort, you turn the knob and pull the door open. On the other side, Bucky appears. Through blurry vision you can see he’s drenched in sweat, too. His long hair sticks to the sides of his face as a sheen of sweat glistens off his forehead. A flush like a blooming rose stains the shiny skin across his chest, reflecting off the moonlight as it rises and falls in rapid motions.
He clenches his hands into fists, but overall, he seems in a bit more control of his body than you, most likely in due part to the other serum that flows through his veins. But when you meet his gaze, there’s a burning, untamed desire spiraling in the depths of blue, blowing his pupils wide, and you realize his control is holding on by a feeble thread.
Seeing him ignites a new fire within you, and it takes you back to before. To a time when things were simple, and there were no defensive walls between you. To a time when you called him yours.
It forces you to let your guard down, and you nearly fall into his arms, whining, “Bucky…”
He catches you, scooping you into his arms and carrying you back to bed. Gently, he lays you atop the drenched mattress, his sinewy figure hovering over yours. He’s close, so close, and that fact alone is enough to make you lightheaded.
A blinding wave of lust crashes over you when you’re hit with a scent that you can only describe as him; musky with a hint of spice. But there’s a trace of something tangy you pick up on, and when you glance to the bulge in his boxers, you know it’s his arousal. The thought induces an uncontrollable throb to pulsate through your core, its effects rippling with pain and you cry out instinctively.
Bucky can only stare at you as he assesses the situation. He’s in his own world of discomfort, you’re sure of it. He can smell you on any normal given day, so you can only imagine what kind of restraint he’s using in this moment when his senses are in overdrive.
“Sweetheart, please tell me you didn’t try to touch yourself,” he pleads when he realizes how much agony you really are in.
Sobbing, you can only nod. A pattern of crescent moons indent into the clammy skin of his back as you dig your fingers into it, an attempt to hold onto something to ground yourself and take the pain away.
He lets out a sigh, one you think is mixed with slight frustration at your refusal to never ask him for help and genuine concern over your wellbeing.
“Please,” you cry again. “Help me.”
Biting through his bottom lip, Bucky can taste copper. His hands clutch at the sheets on either side of your head. The whirs of his left arm fill the heated space as it incessantly grinds from tension; the muscles of his right arm almost bulging out of their flesh confines. A rush of conflicted emotions scatters over every inch of his face; desire, guilt, a tortured sadness, love.
He wants to help you. Hell, he needs help himself, but even through the fierce blaze of pain his body is going through, his moral compass remains strong, and he doesn’t want to make you do anything you would regret.
“I don’t want…I can’t…” he stammers. “You’re with somebody else.”
“Bucky, I don’t give a fuck about that!” You scream, finding your voice through the pain. “If this doesn’t stop soon, I’ll kill you myself before this fucking serum can do it.” Sweat continues to build along your hairline, beading and dripping. Gripping his face, you hold him an inch away to ensure he hears you loud and clear. “I need you.”
The remaining shreds of hesitancy and decency Bucky clung to instantly flies out the open window, catching in the freezing wind and lost to the blizzard. With a firm hand, Bucky reaches behind your neck and crashes his lips to yours. The cool metal of his hand alleviates some of the feverishness, a brief moment of respite, but it’s the feeling of his lips moving against yours, the knowing of what’s to come, that brings you most relief.
A light brush of his clothed erection against your leg has Bucky on the verge of crying, skin crawling with need. His symptoms started after yours, he deduced by the looks of your state when you answered the door, but it doesn’t mean he’s in any less anguish. Everything from the angry red tip of his cock to the sensitive skin around his sac aches in the most unpleasant way.
Leaning closer to you, Bucky rests his chest against yours, only feeling slightly satiated as his body begs for more. But the pressure has you pulling back, sucking in a pained hiss through clenched teeth.
“It hurts,” you whine, eyes scrunched closed in hopes to mentally will the pain away.
Bucky glances down to your covered torso. Through the thin fabric of your tank top, he can see your peaked nipples straining against the white cotton. Without another thought, he slides his hands underneath and removes it one quick motion. In the next, he swirls his hot, wet tongue over one bud before encasing his lips around it, gently sucking at the needy flesh.
“Ahhh!” You cry breathily.
Desperate fingers tangle in his sweaty locks, pulling at the scalp as he tends to one breast then the other. The ache in your abdomen is beginning to subside, but it’s still not enough. Instinctively, you start bucking your hips up to meet his.
“I need it, please. I need you,” you whine into the top of his head, taking a deep breath as his delicious pheromones continue to invade your senses.
Stopping his motions, Bucky brings his lips back to yours for another bruising kiss. His flesh hand immediately begins to descend over your stomach, slipping under the hemline of your panties. He feels how wet you are; how incredibly, impossibly wet you are, and his cock jumps in his boxers at the feel of your warm arousal covering his digits.
This time when your clit is touched, there is no shooting pain, only a blooming sense of relief, and it sends a wave of goosebumps over your entire body. A choked moan sticks in your throat, tears welling in your eyes and spilling out.
“Yes,” you sigh.
Fingers still twisted in his hair, Bucky tends to your neck with sloppy kisses, the short hairs of his stubble scratchy against your skin. Small ripples of satisfaction pulse through your core at Bucky’s continued ministrations, the squelching sound of two thick fingers moving in and out of your heat condenses the heavy air. But it only lasts a few minutes before your body is burning up again; twisting your insides and reprimanding for not giving it what it needs.
“Bucky.”
Releasing the hold you have on his hair, your hands trail down his sides to his lower abdomen. The bristly hairs below his naval tickle your palm as you slip a hand under the elastic of his boxers. His cock is achingly hard when you wrap your fingers around it, thick and heavy, velvety soft in your hold. It’s the hardest you’ve ever felt and you wonder how he’s been able to restrain himself for this long. Gently, you sweep your thumb over the weeping tip, his pre-arousal hot and sticky.
A guttural groan, deep and pained, erupts from his chest, reverberating against the skin of your neck. Bucky shudders on top of you, body going slightly limp as he allows himself to bask in the brief moment of respite. God, he missed being touched by you.
“Please.”
Finally, Bucky picks his head up. His eyes are wide, a crazed, animalistic look glazing over the usual calm ocean blue, but there’s a flash of concern that cracks through.
“Are you ready? I don’t wan—“
“Yes, I’m fucking ready,” you grit out. “Now stop acting like you aren’t also dying for this and fuck me already.”
In a blur of heady movements, Bucky removes his boxers and rips your panties off, leaving you both stark naked together for the first time in a long time. Settling between your thighs, Bucky lines himself up at your entrance, your core already throbbing in anticipation. He easily sinks in, a chorus of moans breaking out when he passes the threshold, the first sense of real relief you’ve both felt all night.
When he bottoms out, it's the fullest you’ve ever felt. It’s an unexplainable feeling that has you wanting to claw your skin off at how amazing the sensation is; the ache almost satisfied.
Bucky nearly collapses on top of you. Also momentarily blissed out from the euphoric sense of relief, his forearms catch himself just before he crushes you with his weight. You’ve always been tight, but this, this has his toes curling and fingers gripping desperately at the headboard, willing himself to keep it together and not manically drive into you.
“Fuck,” he groans, and you can feel his body trembling against yours.
Nails dig into the slick skin of his lower back, pulling him into you briefly before demanding, “Move.”
Without having to be told twice, Bucky lets go and retracts his hips before relentlessly pounding into you. A scream rips from your lungs, and you think you could be on the verge of passing out. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, blending with muffled grunts and strangled moans.
“Always so tight,” Bucky groans against your open mouth. “So good for me.” He peppers kisses over your face, wiping a gentle hand over your forehead to remove some of the sweat that’s built up before using it to cradle the back of your head.
Your body is alight with a tingling desire, tuning you into every minute feeling; each veiny ridge of his cock drags against your silk walls, the coarse hairs at the base tickling your slick folds each time he reaches the hilt, a delicious full pressure filling you up. It creates a burning friction that has you already clenching around him, and your only reaction is to bury your face into his neck, nipping at the flesh there.
Bucky growls, his chest vibrating against yours. Blindly, he reaches for your right thigh with his metal hand, hiking it high over his hip. The new, deeper angle has you pulling your mouth away from his neck to blissfully cry out. The springs of the cheap mattress continuously prod at your lower back as Bucky shifts his weight to increase the force of his thrusts.
Above you, Bucky is teetering on the edge of losing all control and giving in to the innate primal urge clawing its way out, begging to be released. But the super soldier serum allows him to keep one hand on the wheel, and he’s grateful for that. At least one of you can keep a semi-level head in this situation—one that he’s to blame for. As he watches you, though, squirming under him from uncontrollable need, feeling you clench down around him over and over again, whimpering in a blissed out daze, his willpower is faltering.
With every rough snap of his hips, he feels you getting closer, the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting the sweet spot inside you. He’s mindful to not leave any marks; a partly coherent piece of him still aware enough to not leave any physical traces on you of this god awful event. The vibranium grip he has on your thigh loosens.
He’s careful to not leave a mark, but he lets you. From the bruising kisses already purpling on his neck to the harsh red lines scratched down his back, he lets you. And he silently curses the serum’s rapid healing effects, knowing he’ll only have these reminders for a short while. To remind him when you were his again, even if it isn’t in the way he wanted, he could still fool himself.
Two trembling arms snake around Bucky’s neck, your quivering thighs tighten against his hips. There’s a new throbbing ache, a building soreness, between your legs, but this time, it’s welcomed. Your insides begin to twist, the chord of pleasure straining for release.
Bucky momentarily frees your thigh from his hold to slip his metal hand between your sweat covered bodies. The typically cool metal is hot against your swollen clit as he rubs generous circles over it, pushing you closer to the edge of euphoria.
“Don’t stop,” you pant against the shell of his ear. “Please don’t stop.”
It takes only a few more rapid thrusts before your skin begins to prickle with the sensation of pins and needles. A contradiction of pain and pleasure emanating from your core, overwhelming you as the chord snaps and your entire body engulfs in flaming elation. It ceases your breathing, has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, vision blurred and whited out.
“Fuck, yes!” You cry out between strangled sobs, arms and legs securing firmly around Bucky.
Tightly clenching around him, Bucky nearly chokes on air, the tightest you’ve ever been, and he’s determined to reach his own release. His skin is on fire, body blazing with need and his rational mind slips as he finally gives in. Viscously snapping his hips into you, he’s so close he can almost taste it. A wild rush courses through him, egging him on and clouding his mind.
“My best girl,” he pants by your ear, face buried in the pillow you rest on, “my only girl.”
He continues to pound into you, his thrusts faltering every now and then when he feels a fluttering aftershock of your orgasm. “Love you,” he breathes between nips and kisses along your slack jaw, one hand gripping the back of your neck, the other gripping onto the underside of your thigh again, “so much.”
The words dissolve into the mist of your sex fueled haze and they’re quickly forgotten about as you blindly agree you love him too. He bites down gently on the skin of your shoulder, a feral growl reverberates through his entire body as he releases inside you, and he forces himself in as deep as he can go. So much for not leaving any marks.
The two of you stay like that for a moment, bodies trembling and hearts thundering wildly in your chests, competing against one another as you come down from the intense high. Like a thick fog, the lustful intoxication of the serum dissipates, clearing your minds and allowing the harsh reality of the situation to settle in.
A chill fills the room, a breath of wind spilling in from the open window, causing you to shudder beneath him. It’s the only thing you can really feel as a numbing after effect consumes you.
Bucky feels you slightly shaking and lifts up, letting go of your thigh and you let it limply fall to the mattress. Resting on one hand, Bucky uses the other to grip the base of his cock, slowly removing it from inside you. You both watch as he reappears covered in your mixed juices. Pained hisses cut through the silence when he’s fully out, taking a piece of you with him; or maybe it’s one he’s always had. An uncomfortable emptiness leaves you feeling hollow in more ways than one.
Then, Bucky is looking to you. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He searches your eyes for any indication that you’re in any form of discomfort.
You don’t respond; only stare blankly up at him for a moment before sliding your legs out from under him and gently push off the bed. Silently, you gather your clothing that was discarded in a feverish state of pain and desire, not even bothering to take the time to search for your underwear Bucky carelessly threw somewhere. As you move around the room, the warm stickiness of his spend begins to trail down your inner thigh, hastening your effort to get cleaned up. Without another glance in his direction, you slip out of the room and into the bathroom across the hall.
Cool, refreshing water cascades over your skin, simmering the boil of surging emotions inside. Anger at Bucky’s carelessness; guilt at cheating on your partner; and confusion at the newfound adoration you thought was buried long ago, when you and Bucky decided it was no longer working between you.
It’s difficult for you to discern when your feelings towards Bucky started blossoming again. You could easily brush it off as a lingering side effect of the serum—a slight emotional attachment to the person who took your pain away. But you know it’s so much more than that. If anything, tonight has brought to light all the feelings you’ve been trying to suppress for far too long.
Moments of catching yourself staring longer than you should; being secretly excited when assigned on missions together, despite outwardly protesting your discontent for the situation; nights spent wondering about the what ifs and could have beens.
The raging storm of confusion elicits a deep frustrated grumble. Slipping your head under the running water, you pray for it to help make sense of everything swirling around inside it.
The pipes squeak and groan as you cut off the water, drying off and redressing. But before you slip your shirt back on, you catch sight of a reddened mark on your right shoulder in the mirror. Grazing light fingers over it, you harshly bite down on your bottom lip to stop the threat of tears. Quickly, you drag your shirt over your head and cover it up, trying to forget that Bucky had been yours once again, if only for a moment. But there’s still a dull ache throbbing between your legs, radiating up into your chest and clamping around your heart, and you pull on every fiber in your being to not cry at the thought of it.
Opening the bathroom door, you peek out into the hallway, searching for any sign you’re not alone. When you don’t see one, you step out but stop before going back into your room.
The door hangs open, a clear view of tangled sheets and a fading imprint on the mattress the only remaining signs of what just occurred. The ache slightly intensifies the longer you stare at it. Instead, you opt to sleep on the couch in the living room.
The fire burned out hours ago, the room only illuminated now by the bright moon hanging outside the window. Laying on the couch, a numbness settles over your body, glassy eyes staring at the pulsating glow of the small pile of embers. Only a few minutes pass before you finally cave, crumbling into yourself as you allow the new wave of internal pain to take over, and you cry.
______________________________________________________________
A soft weighted sensation stirs you from your sleep the next morning, and you have to quickly reach out to stop the blanket that covers you from slipping onto the floor. Gripping it, your brows knit together as curious eyes scan over the fabric. You don’t recall getting the blanket at any point during the night, and you slowly sit up to place it on the cushion beside you.
The front door opens, and you snap your head in the direction to see Bucky’s large figure appearing in the room, stomping his feet to rid his boots of snow. Instinctively, your eyes squint from the brightness of the sun reflecting on the whiteness outside, raising a hand to shield it. When Bucky catches sight that you’re awake, he stops his motions and stares at you.
His cerulean eyes are always brighter in the morning, something you remember from before, but no longer allow yourself to bask in. This morning, however, they’re a sad shade of grey; dull, puffy, and slightly red around the rim. A flicker of remorse flashes across his features as he notices your own disheveled state.
He uneasily clears his throat, dropping your gaze to remove the gloves from his hands. “The Quinjet is all packed. I figured you’d want to leave as soon as possible.” He clutches both gloves in one hand, looking to you once again. “I’m ready when you are.”
Blinking away the tears that burn the back of your eyes, you nod your head. “Okay.”
Almost like a hangover, you’re still a bit lightheaded from the after effects of the serum and your night of crying, wobbling a bit when you stand on two feet. In hopes to steady your equilibrium, you press the base of your palms into your eyes, taking a few deep breaths.
“Are you okay?” Bucky softly asks, voice ripe with worry.
“I’m fine.” The words scratch their way out, your throat sore from
Without another word, you collect your belongings and rush out to the Quinjet, leaving Bucky to follow behind you. Settling in, you choose to sit as far away from him as possible, your skin already crawling at the prospect of sitting in an uncomfortable silence for the next four hours with your ex-boyfriend.
Your ex-boyfriend who you reluctantly had between your legs no less than eight hours ago.
The faint throb returns, constricting your chest, and you shift to turn away from him. Even from the pilot’s seat, you can feel Bucky’s stare burning through you. You shift again, curling your legs up and tucking an arm under your head in an attempt to get comfortable enough to hopefully fall asleep, and ignore the awkward tension brewing between you.
Once you’re finally back at the Compound, you can’t get off the Quinjet fast enough. As you land, Bucky rhetorically tells you he’ll finish up the rest of the post-mission paperwork, ensuring you won’t have to worry about it. You only nod before leaving him alone to retreat back to your room.
Five long days pass in a blur.
Nat came to check on you soon after you returned home. You internally debated telling her what happened, but the more you tried to keep it to yourself, the more it ate away at you. Once the initial shock wore off, she insisted you go to the med lab to get checked out, and then asked what you were going to do now.
You could only answer honestly when you said, “I don’t know.”
You knew you had to talk to Tom. The thought alone created a rock of dread that sat heavy in your stomach, but it was nothing compared to the thought of having to talk to Bucky.
It’s on the sixth day you finally manage to muster up enough courage to talk to the man you’ve been avoiding for almost a week. You haven’t seen Bucky since you returned home, mindful to keep your distance and you’re sure he tried to keep his, too. A few times you heard him coming and going from his room, and you think there was one night he lingered outside your door before he decided against coming to you.
The sound of his door closing breaks you from your thoughts, head snapping in the direction of the wooden barrier currently between you. Gently chewing on the inside of your cheek, you ponder for another moment before you ultimately decide to just get it over with, rip the metaphorical bandaid off and be done with it. Standing up from the chair you sit on, you take a deep and go to him.
Hesitantly, you raise a fisted hand to his door, knocking softly. You wait, your fingers wringing together as anxiety curdles in your stomach, and you almost turn to leave, but the door suddenly whips open. Bucky stands before you with a slight dip in his brow, eyes uncertain as he regards you, waiting for you to speak.
“Um,” you begin, voice low and shy, “can we talk?”
He remains silent, stepping to the side to open the door for you to enter. You falter, taking a step before second guessing if this is even a good idea, and you almost run back to your room until you stop yourself. Stop being dumb.
Bucky closes the door once you’re inside, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the fact you’re alone with him once again when he turns to face you. Goosebumps prick at your skin, the anxiety twisting your insides that much more.
“How are you?”
The weakness of your voice has you internally wincing. You’ve been with this man countless times before, fought with and against him, and all of a sudden you’re a fragile mess before him? No, you’re stronger than that. Pulling your shoulders back, you raise your chin as you wait for him to respond.
“I’ve been better,” he replies evenly.
You slowly nod. “I assume you went to see Bruce,” you begin, and continue once he confirms, “and I assume everything was okay?”
He nods.
“That’s good.” You pause to rub your lips together, crossing your arms self-consciously over your midsection. “I told him the tonic took a few hours to take effect, so he thinks it might’ve been old.” Another pause before you sarcastically add, “Still potent once it starts working.”
Pinching his lips together into a thin line, Bucky doesn’t say anything. You notice the dull blue of his eyes, reminding you of the sad, stormy grey they were the morning after in the safe house.
Swallowing thickly, you briefly look away as your brain scatters for something else to say. With your mind distracted by other things, and in your haste to get this whole ordeal over with, you gave little thought to what you would say to him. You open your mouth to say something, what—you aren’t sure—but Bucky beats you to it.
“I really am sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
There’s a sadness that pulls at the corners of his eyes, a sincerity in his voice, but his words flip a switch inside you. No longer a lost, fragile mess, red begins to cloud your vision, anger seeping into your veins.
“Oh, so you’re finally taking ownership for your actions?” You spit. “That’s nice.”
Bucky lets out a frustrated sigh, rolling his eyes as he looks to the ceiling. “Please don’t do this.”
You choose to ignore him, continuing with your verbal assault and unsubstantiated accusations. “Or did you do it on purpose? Trying to get back in my pants again to prove some kind of sick point that I’ll always be yours? Is that it?”
Incredulity creases Bucky’s brows, his eyes widening at your outburst. “What are you talking about?” He asks, annoyance threading through his rising voice. “How was I supposed to know what it was?”
Clenching your back teeth, you shake your head at him. “Forget it,” you begin, moving to step around him. “Forget I even came here. This was stupid.”
You only make it halfway to the door before Bucky is grasping your upper arm, stopping your movements and swinging you back around to face him.
“No,” he firmly states, “you came here to talk, so let’s talk. This isn’t gonna be like before. I’m not going to let you run away from this.”
“From what?”
“Us.”
A tense silence falls between you, chests heaving as you stare each other down. Finally, Bucky speaks again, releasing your arm and dropping his gaze to the floor.
“What did your boyfriend say?”
Taking another hard swallow, your voice is low when you respond, “We’re not together anymore.”
Bucky swiftly picks his head up to look at you, guilt shining over his pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell me he broke up with you because of my fuck up.”
“No,” you sigh, eyes downcast to the floor. “I broke up with him.”
There’s a brief pause as Bucky processes your words. “Why would you do that?”
The question is simple, but the answer has left you in a tangled mess of emotions. “Because,” you pause, taking another deep breath, “because I realized something.”
“What?”
Gazing back to Bucky, you choose to ignore your conflicted answer, and instead ask him a question of your own. A question you hope will help bring you some form of peace. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” His voice is low, nearly a whisper.
Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, steeling your frenzied nerves, you finally respond, “When we were…together, you said you loved me. Did you mean it?”
Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise, clearly not expecting you to bring that up. It was a slip of the tongue, spoken in the heat of the moment as he was overcome with a crazed desire. He didn’t think you heard it, or at least, didn’t really comprehend what he was saying, but he did mean it. He’s silently loved you from afar every single day since he let you walk away, always too afraid to admit it out loud to himself, and to you.
But he does. He loves you and he means it, every word. And in this moment, he’d rather ingest the sex tonic all over again, allow it to destroy him, than let you slip away a second time.
“Yes,” he replies, voice strong and full of conviction. His eyes hold your stare, watching as they gloss over with unshed tears. “I meant it.”
The confession has a breath catching in your throat. The raging war of confusing thoughts and feelings comes to a cease fire, your inner turmoil surrendering as everything falls back into place.
Without an ounce of hesitation, you reach out for him. Both hands grasp along his jaw, lips crashing onto his. Bucky reacts instantly, gripping your waist to pull you in. His lips are fierce against yours, desperate like a man starved, and his tongue slips out seeking yours.
The kiss is a bittersweet taste of resentment and longing. Tongues gliding against one another as you both forgive and remember what it’s like to be together again. It tastes like home.
Breathless, you pull away, eyes searching his—no longer dull and conflicted, they shine bright with a spark of hopefulness.
“I’m sorry, too,” you softly say, “and I’m willing to try again if you are.”
Bucky lets out a deep, pleased sigh, the beginnings of a smile curling the corner of his mouth. Tenderly, he places a chaste kiss to your lips, your cheek, and wraps two strong arms around you, securing you into a tight embrace.
“I missed you,” he says, the words muffled, his lips pressed against your shoulder.
The beating of your heart stutters at his admission, a pleasant flip in your belly, because you’ve missed him, too. So much, and more than you allowed yourself to admit.
Tightening your arms around his neck, you softly tell him, “I love you, too.”
And you mean it.
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Listen, i know this is angsty as fuck. But soon enough if someone doesn't write it then i will...
I need someone to write a bucky/steve x reader fic that i can read while listening to Don't You by Taylor Swift.
I need that. It will hurt. But i need that.
@msmarvelwrites @sweeterthanthis I'm looking at the two of you for this, bc you are my main source for taylor based angst fics👀👀
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nezukomimi · a day ago
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In The End - Loki x Reader - Angst
Summary: After having seen glimpses of his future he lands on his death, not knowing that it would also include yours
A/N: Spoilers for the episode? Kinda? It's just that one scene and I'm rewriting most of it anyway, but idk look out just in case. Also, anything in italics is the future self talking
Warnings: Death, character death, sad loki hours
Marvel Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Prompt List (thank you for 400!)
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---
"Loki, come on, I brought you some dinner." He hears your voice, sees you on the screen in front of him, yet it seems unreal that you're there when you were supposed to be on Asgard.
Loki watched as his future shelf barely looked at you from his prison cell, the scoff his future self let out as he looked at your figure.
"And how did you get past those guards?" Loki watched intently as you scratched your neck, a sheepish smile on your face.
"I brought them dinner, too." Loki smiled softly at your kindness.
"Then they must be more gullible than I am." He saw how your face fell a little at his harsh tone.
"I'll put this here," You murmured, placing the tray of food outside the cell, waiting for one of the guards to transport it inside.
Loki watched on the screen as you gave him a small nod as you left and how he only rolled his eyes in return.
He fast-forwarded a bit more until he landed on another one.
"Are you hurt?" This time you two were on a ship from what he could tell, his future self trying not to make it seem like he cared but he knew himself too well.
You cradled a broken wrist but you waved him off with a pained smile.
"It's not bad," You glanced at his wound, "Your's is though, let's get that checked out." Your caring nature was something he could never understand, how you always put your pain until others were taken care of.
Even his other self knew this as he shook his head, leading you out of the room.
"That Hela was tough, huh?" You joked lightly but Loki saw the crease in his forehead, the worry as he saw the blood staining his fingers.
"Honestly, Y/n, how," He couldn't finish his words as he inspected your wound more, seeing how it was much worse than he thought, "Why do you pretend like you're fine?" You tried your best to wave his worry off.
"I'm not in pain, I'll be fine." Loki shook his head, knowing that it was in your nature to be like this.
As the future Loki quickened his place to what must have been the ship's infirmary, he stood up, walking closer to the T.V. to get a better look at you.
"Why did you act like you were dead?" You whispered, and Loki watched as he struggled to come up with a lie.
"I missed you," Your words were so quiet it hurt his heart, the look on your face something that he wished never to see again.
"I'm sorry." That was all he could say and Loki sneered at the pitiful sentence, but you didn't.
When you two had reached a door you sighed as you looked at the man next to you, not noticing the protective arm that was around your back.
"Stay safe," He muttered, "Please." And then he left, running off in another direction, leaving you all by yourself.
He quickly pressed more buttons, wanting to see more, until he stopped at a final scene, the machine not going any further.
It must have been the same ship, but it was in ruins.
He saw himself struggling in the arms of Thanos, trying his best to get out of his iron grip.
He moved closer to the screen, eyes tracking the movements.
he heard his pained groans and the words of Thanos ringing through his ears.
But in the corner he also saw you, your crippled figure trying to stand up.
He wanted to yell at you to stay down but you couldn't hear him as you charged at the Titan, the pitiful knife in your hands barely grazing his skin.
Loki watched as Thanos loosened his grip on him, instead opting to take you instead, his fist around your neck tightening.
And you were no god, no eternal being.
Loki watched as Thanos slowly tightened it more, your bloodshot eyes staring at Loki, that same smile that you always gave him on your face until he heard an audible snap and Thanos dropped your body somewhere.
Loki watched as his body fell next to yours soon enough,
And Loki watched tearfully as the love of his life laid dying by his side.
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savemesomenachos · a day ago
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200 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION!!
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*credits to gif owner*
So, I’ve hit 214 followers as of today and I’ve got so much love here😌 and so I’ve decided to have a prompt list to celebrate my 200+ followers!!!!!!!🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽 (limited time)
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AN: These will all be reader inserts!!! EVERYTHING IS 18+, minors DNI
Characters I will write for:
Stucky
Loki
Bucky Barnes
Steve Rogers
Rules/Info:
You can choose 1 or 2 prompts from any 2 genres at a time only.
While sending your request, you can refer to the prompt with the name of the genre and the number. E.g., Fluff #1, Angst #5
Likes & Reblogs are not compulsory but would be thoroughly appreciated!🤌🏽💋
The same is with feedback. It’s one of the most important things to a writer coz it does help me write other stuff and improve.
Drabbles will be between 500-1000 words depending on my motivation🤷🏽‍♀️
It might take some time for me to reply but I will eventually!!!!
Anons are welcome to request stuff too!!!
If you want to be tagged in the Drabble or my permanent taglist, specify which taglist you want to be in and drop your username in the request.
There will be prompts for fluff, angst and smut down below.
ENJOY MY LOVELIES!!!!!!🌸🌸🌸
Credits to @creativepromptsforwriting for all the lovelllyyyy promptssss!!!!
Prompts:-
Fluff🌸:
1.A-“Stop staring at me to distract me!”
B- “Oh, I’m not staring at you to distract you.”
2.A - “Why are you blinking like that with your eyes? Is everything ok?”
B- “That was supposed to be a wink!”
3.A- "Wow, I never thought you'd be stupid enough to try and do this.”
B- "Well, you're here with me, so that makes you stupid too.”
4.“You’re saying that you’re only attracted to someone’s brain, but I totally caught you checking out my butt.”
5.A- “You’re smarter than you look.” 
B- “Is that a compliment for my intelligence or an insult for my looks?”
6.A- “You flirt in the most awkward situations.” 
B- “You know you love it.”
7.A- “Are you trying to flirt with me?” 
B- “Yes. Is it working?”
Angst💔:
1. “Is everything a joke to you?”
2. “It’s my fault, I didn’t listen to everyone saying this would be a mistake!”
3. “Why does everything have to be a struggle with you?”
4. “I can’t believe you sometimes!”
5. “Maybe you should just leave now.”
6. “Stop! Just stop it!”
7. “Maybe, this is it coz I can’t do this anymore!”
Smut🥵:
1. “Stop looking at me like that or my knees will not hold me any longer.”
2. “My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”
3. “Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”
4. “Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?”
5. “Later you will definitely need to tell me where you learned this.”
6. “I want to please you.”
7. “Your hand feels much better than my own.”
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*credits to the gif owner*
TAGLIST:-
Permanent: @julyvegan @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mysweetlittledesire @bbl32 @noshame-bb @cece5 @white-wolf1940 @marvelfansworld @jassiejj2118 @sohosteve @sia2raw @honeymarvel @hart-failure @Clints-worldavengers
Stucky: @spookyparadisesheep
The link to my main Masterlist is here.
If you wanna be tagged in my works, lemme know here.
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dailyreverie · a day ago
Kissing Prompt: 13 with Bucky please!
Ease Off
A/N: Hi anon! Thanks for the request 😊 I was rewatching FATWS and that "If he was wrong about you then he was wrong about me" scene makes me SOB every time, so this blurb happened lol. I hope you like it!
Click here to request a blurb!
KISSING PROMPT #13: frustrated kisses
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word count: 979
Warnings: Language (F word)
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[gif by @thewhitewolfisaguardian]
The sound of the bag hitting the floor and the door slamming shut was all you needed to know that Bucky was home. It was almost midnight, he had called you from jail about an hour and a half ago, and since then you had been staring at the door waiting for him wide awake with the TV serving little as a distraction.
He looks at you from the entrance, and from the look in your eyes he just knows that you are about to lecture him. "Please don't." He says, turning on his heels to head into the kitchen.
"Don't what?" You ask as you stand up to follow him, your voice stern and desperate to reach him. "You call me from a police station and expect me to don't do what, exactly?" Bucky opens the fridge and grabs a beer for himself, not looking at you as he opens it and takes a gulp. "Bucky, I'm just trying to understand-" You cut yourself as he turns his back to you and slams his beer on the counter, startling you. "Jesus Christ, James, I only want to know-."
"I don't know fucking know, alright!" He finally looks at you, his voice louder than it should be at this time of the night. "Whatever it is that you want to know, I probably don't have the answer to it."
"You can't talk to me like that!" You snap back. "You call me at 10:45 at night telling me you were arrested, then your therapist calls me to ask if I know why you have been missing your sessions because she has to basically BAIL YOU OUT of jail,” His body turns half way so he can lean on the kitchen counter, the grip he has on it making his knuckles turn white. “And I can’t get a fucking explanation?”
“That’s all you want? An explanation?” Bucky scoffs, and you are not sure if you have ever seen him so angry. “Well, how’s this. That shield, the one Steve protected with his life, the one that represented everything we ever stood for, it means nothing now!”
“So that’s why you skip therapy?” Bucky rolls his eyes and you can see him biting the inside of his mouth to not scream back at you. “That’s the one thing that will clear your name, and you just skip it?”
“Why should I even go?” He yells, “That shield is in the hands of that Walker asshole, Sam doesn’t give a damn about it, and Steve didn’t give a damn about me. What am I supposed to do, huh?”
“Buck.” You interrupt, shocked at his quivering voice, because the pain in the words he just spoke about Steve was something he had never mentioned before, and the blatant way he says it makes you realize that frustration is making him blurt out all his thoughts; he doesn’t seem to notice it, doesn’t seem to register what just came out of his mouth.
He looks at you with angry eyes and a puffing chest, expecting you to continue talking. “Why the fuck am I still fighting for something that is no longer here?” He keeps asking, shaking at every word, and the tone in his voice should have made you turn around and leave but instead you are walking towards him even after he has done nothing but scream at you since he got home.
“Bucky, baby, just-” You try again, but his ranting interrupts you.
“What’s the point of all this fucking therapy, and all this fights, if I’m doing it for someone who-”
“Bucky, look at me!” You insist, holding his face between your hands to force him to look at you. His eyebrows are knotted and his nostrils flare at every breath, but his eyes don’t match the anger, instead they are filled with confusion and… plain sadness.
So you kiss him, pulling his head towards yours in a firm grip, hoping that with it he can slow down his train of thought and bring him back to you. His breathing starts to slow down as his lips move along with yours, and when you feel his hands holding your waist you know you have his attention back. You pull apart slowly, and you can see he is still trying to figure out how to feel and what to say “You are a good man, that’s why you are still fighting.” Your hands caress his light stubble while his find the skin under your shirt to draw small circles on it. “And I will never understand Steve, but he knew that too.”
“He was wrong.” He states, his voice raspy and knotted. If you could, you would go back in time and kick Steve Rogers right in the crotch.
“He was, but not about you.” The tears that form in his eyes rip your heart apart. “Never about you.” You whisper, assuringly.
Bucky kisses you again, looking to feel grounded as he always does when he has your lips against his. He doesn’t let go for a few minutes, because you are the one constant thing that makes him feel like he is doing something right and he wants to cling to that feeling for as long as he can. He lifts you with ease so you can sit on the counter, giving him an easier access to reach the rest of your body while his lips are still connected to yours.
You break apart after a few minutes and you immediately look for his eyes, much calmer and softer than the last time you saw them. His metal fingers grab your hand softly to lift it to his lips. There’s no need to say any word as your gaze meets his, you just let yourself wrap around him to bandage every wound that his past left behind on him.
****
Thanks for reading! Reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!
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babyboibucky · a day ago
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Anger That Loves
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You help Bucky understand his anger.
Word Count: 612
Warnings: A smidge of angst sksksksk
A/N: I read something about anger just now and it was beautiful and so here is the result lmfao
MAIN MASTERLIST
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It’s hard to ignore anger, especially the kind that consumes you; the one that somehow takes over your entire being and replaces your logic with blinding rage.
Hot, seething anger— Bucky just knows this all too well.
Bucky might have been freed from the wrath of HYDRA, but his mind continues to be imprisoned. Not by his dark past, but by the rage that resulted from it. He might have moved on and made amends to right his wrong, but he was never truly free from his worst enemy.
Himself.
People kept on telling him that he was being too hard on himself, taking all the blame when he was merely a victim. How could he not when each night he spent was full of nightmares and regret?
“Bucky, you can’t be mad at yourself forever.”
“Be kind to yourself. Forgive yourself.”
But god, Bucky tried to do all those and yet the anger remained in his heart. He was way past seeking revenge on his tormentors, he was done with that life. All that Bucky wanted was peace and calm, the kind that wasn’t out of denial nor distraction.
He wanted peace and calm as it is.
What people didn’t seem to understand was how exhausted Bucky felt for trying his goddamn best not to be angry anymore. Angry at himself, at life, at everyone who kept on giving advice as if he never tried to fix himself.
Bucky was exhausted, and just as when he was about to give in to his anger, you came along.
You were kind and sweet, warm and radiant like the sunlight. There was something so comforting about your personality that helped alleviate the anger that Bucky felt.
And you were different, so so different from the others. Because you never told him that he was too angry nor too harsh on himself. You never tried to change him or his attitude and instead, you embraced it.
You accepted Bucky for who he was and the darkness and weight that hung above his shoulders.
Bucky heard words that he had never expected to hear from someone like you, someone who never seemed to have carried any burden. Someone who didn’t feel any ounce of anger despite the atrocities that the world has to offer.
“You don’t have to feel bad about being mad, Bucky. It comes from knowing what you’ve been through, things you don’t deserve. You’re mad because you know that you should be treated with respect and kindness, that the only touch you should experience is one that is gentle.” You told him, letting your hand cup his stubbled cheek.
Bucky could feel the tears gather in the corner of his eyes because you were right. He had never felt a touch as soft and kind as yours, and it was overwhelming but in a good, heartwarming way.
It felt like love.
“Maybe you do need to be kind to yourself, but that also includes understanding your anger. Bucky, it wants the best for you. Your anger loves you.”
Bucky never realized that you were right, his anger was caused by the pain he had gone through. He was mad because he does not deserve all of that, and what was so wrong about wanting desperately to receive kindness?
But you understood him, finally someone did. You showed him that there was nothing wrong about feeling that way and it was through your understanding that Bucky learned to accept his anger.
And it was in that acceptance that Bucky learned to love himself— his anger included. For once, Bucky felt loved.
Love that was consuming and blinding, but all in the right ways.
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