#convict!Bucky | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cosmos-coma · 4 months

Text

My Sun, My Star

A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6756

Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??

Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

________________

Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat.

You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.

“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him.

“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup.

“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.”

You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.

‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’ you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send.

“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held.

“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.

Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner.

----

Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation.

“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?”

“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again.

“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.

“SAM.”

“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”

No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.

He should’ve listened.

It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried.

“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.

“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms.

“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet.

They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten.

He should have listened.

Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung.

At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn.

“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake.

“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over.

Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.

“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”

Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him.

“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.”

Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be.

But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.

“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.

The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click.

As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.

“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend.

However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.

---

The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead.

His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.

The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence.

The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.

With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door.

His door.

Your door.

The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.

A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?

“Hmmph”

His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached.

The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise.

His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.

“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.

Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour.

With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently.

“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.

His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.

His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question.

A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.

“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.

You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.

So much for that

Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.

Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away.

With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more.

Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal.

Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body.

But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin.

His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning?

“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.

“Кр��сивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him.

“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better.

“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.

A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.

His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin.

“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.

But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not.

“Oh. I-”

CRASH.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere.

Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on.

Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?

“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands.

“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.

You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze,

His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way.

He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you.

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”

Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room.

“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden-

BANG.

“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet.

You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways.

Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid.

You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again.

“No…!”

A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air.

Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.

“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team.

“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.

“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again.

“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”

“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.

“Sol-”

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive.

“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive.

“I can’t do this without you…”

The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place.

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.”

A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].”

You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague.

Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you two to the tower…”

----

The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab.

Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.

“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work.

“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly.

You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.

"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.

“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.

You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.

He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.

He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?

"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.

But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."

Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."

The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.

Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.

A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.

"Yes?"

“Is it time…?”

You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.

He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?”

Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.

It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss.

But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….”

-----

You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head.

“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…”

“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”

You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.

Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye.

Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well.

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.

“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.

He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began.

You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry.

“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”

_____________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)

It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

2K notes · View notes

blue-ink-pearls · 2 months

Text

Fig Isn't Meant to Be Cassandra's Paladin, Bucky Applebees Is

As most of us have realized since Ankarna's original domain was revealed, Fig is clearly supposed to be her paladin. The archdevil of rebellion united with the goddess of conviction and justice would be an incredible force for fighting wrongs, for inspiring revolutions, and creating true positive change.

But Fig wasn't wrong that Cassandra would be immensely helped by having a paladin swear themselves to her. Even though Kristen is an extraordinary cleric, she's only one person.

When we first meet Bucky Applebees in Junior Year, he is filled with doubt and uncertainty. He's a paladin of Helio, the same religion (cult) that Kristen fled from and he has been forced to take on the role of protector to his younger brothers that Kristen once held as the eldest daughter. He hasn't told his parents about the gold Kristen gave them, he thinks he's going to hell for lying, he misses his sister but thinks she's living in sin (maybe?), and he's curious about what beer tastes like (but never mind, he doesn't want to know. He bets it would be great. For sinners, would love it.).

When Cassandra dies/is kidnapped, Kristen first feels a connection to her goddess again when she thinks of how her doubt and uncertainty led to her escaping that life and finding freedom from Helio and her parents.

Ally: "I think she spent so much time trapped and feeling, like, super wrong, that doubt and mystery actually feel like a really beautiful escape, and more true." Brennan: "The concept of escape hits you. And for a moment you hear (clicking). And all of the locks on the windows and all of the locks on the doors of this room just open slightly. A little bit of divine magic flows through you....[W]hen you thought of escape, you thought of, yeah, embracing the unknown gives you the strength to leave a bad situation. Escape."

Bucky, Bricker, and Cork are still trapped and now that Brennan's brought Bucky back into the story, I don't think the season is going to end with Kristen leaving her little brothers in an abusive home life when there's every possibility for them to find safety and acceptance at Morded Manor.

I believe that if Kristen is able to help her brothers get away from their parents and the Church of Helio*, then Bucky is going to need a new god to follow. Why wouldn't Bucky, a scared, uncertain 14 year-old kid, not follow a goddess in the image of his older sister, whose very essence is that "whenever you're in the dark, I'm here holding your hand."

Kristen has always had a hard time doing the work of growing her church, of telling people about Cassandra. I think she'd find it easy to tell her siblings all about Cassandra when she's trying to help them find enough doubt and uncertainty in what they've known all their lives, that they'll have the courage to escape too.

*Also, there's definitely going to be further exploration of the Church of Sol, and by extension the Church of Helio, as they were 100% involved in what happened to Ankarna and Kristen is probably going to try to keep Bobby Dawn away from Bucky, just as she absolutely rejected Buddy Dawn becoming her brother's mentor.

#fantasy high #fhjy spoilers #kristen applebees #fig faeth #bucky applebees #fantasy high junior year #fhjy

569 notes · View notes

antiquarianfics · 9 months

Text

Can I?

a/n: this is so fuckin’ goofy and not proofed. enjoy!

warnings: n/a

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

You follow Sam and Bucky out of the police station after a godawful impromptu therapy session with Bucky’s therapist. Sam and Bucky are arguing while you stay silent, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets while you follow. You’re zoning out, thinking about Bucky’s confession that he thinks Steve was wrong about him, when a siren pulls you out of your thoughts.

Sam and Bucky abruptly stop, and you accidentally run into Bucky’s back. Your boyfriend turns around and steadies you, shooting you an apologetic look. You shrug and turn to find John Walker and Lamar Hoskins leaning against a police vehicle.

You find the whole ordeal just as obnoxious as your partners, and are glad when Bucky essentially tells them to fuck off. But the back and forth only made you starkly aware of Walker’s entitlement. That was your main issue with him being Captain America. After all, one of the most notable traits of Steve’s that made him The Captain America was that he never felt that he deserved the title.

Sam informs Walker that the three of you—Avengers—have no interest in working as government operatives because you’re free agents. The three of you begin to walk away at that point.

“Then stay out of my way!” Walker yells after you.

You scoff as you fall into step next to Bucky, who wraps his arm around your shoulders and holding you close.

“Can I kill him?” You huff. “I want to kill him. Can I kill him?”

Sam shoots you a perplexed look while Bucky smirks in amusement.

“No,” Sam says, albeit with little conviction. His own annoyance at the forefront of his mind.

“Not in public,” Bucky says at the same time.

Sam shoots Bucky an irritated and exasperated look which causes him to backtrack.

“No, of course not, Doll,” he corrects.

You huff out a laugh at Bucky’s correction.

Quickly, the conversation shifts to the Flag Smashers and what to do. This is when Bucky suggests talking to Zemo. Sam and yourself immediately protest.

“Have you forgotten what he did to you?” Sam questions.

“I haven’t,” you mutter under your breath, but you’re certain Bucky hears it by the way he tenses and shifts uncomfortably next to you.

The conversation goes back and forth, but, ultimately, Bucky wins.

Unhappy about it, you look to Sam.

“Can I kill him?” You point to Bucky, who is still holding you.

“No!” Bucky protests.

“Not in public,” Sam laughs.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

ko-fi

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader fluff #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky x g!n reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky x f!reader

1K notes · View notes

lvrdrafts · 10 months

Text

No Time To Lose

Summary: Bucky is going to confront you for why you have been avoiding him but when he comes home he finds out you have been kidnapped

Warning: Mentions of kidnapping and torture

Part 1 Part 3

Bucky couldn't bear the growing distance between you any longer. He knew he had to talk to you and stop the tension that had been building. The constant absence of your touch, your laughter, and your presence had made him realize just how much he needed you.

One evening, as he mustered up the courage to have the conversation, he decided to surprise you at home. He wanted to show you that whatever he did wrong he deeply regrets it and stop whatever had caused this sudden change in your behavior.

However, when Bucky entered the apartment, he found it eerily quiet. The atmosphere felt heavy, and his heart clenched with a sense of foreboding. He called out your name, but there was no response.

Panic surged through his veins as he quickly searched every room, hoping to find you. It was then that he noticed something off—a broken vase on the floor, shattered glass scattered across the room.

Bucky's hands trembled as he desperately dialed your number, hoping against hope that you would answer. But each ring went unanswered, intensifying his anxiety. Fear gnawed at his heart as he realized something was terribly wrong. Where were you? Why weren't you picking up?

Unable to waste any more time, Bucky quickly dialed Sam's number, his voice filled with urgency. "Sam, it's Y/N. She's in trouble. I can't reach her, and I don't know where she is. I need your help."

Sam's voice conveyed his concern as he responded, "Don't worry, Bucky. I'm on my way. We'll find her together. Just hold on."

Bucky's mind replayed every moment, every conversation, searching for any signs he might have missed. Anything that could show what had happen to you. Bucky's mind raced with worry as they searched for any sign of your whereabouts. Doubt gnawed at his thoughts, questioning every decision he had made leading up to this moment. Did I miss any signs that something was wrong? Should I have noticed your distress sooner?

But as the minutes ticked by, Bucky's conviction grew stronger. Deep down, he knew you would never willingly leave him without a word. Your love had been genuine, your connection real. It didn't make sense that you would simply disappear without a trace. His gut told him that something was terribly wrong.

That is when he saw Sam walk in with a computer in his hand. "Well I asked the landlord for the security cameras and he was happy to give it to Captain America." Sam says laughing trying to lighten the mood as he sits down, but no reaction from Bucky. "Well what did you find?" Bucky says eagerly. "I see that Y/N got captured while heading in, but its a little blurry to see the number plate." Sam says while showing Bucky "But I do know someone who can get it, wait here." Sam walks out to make a phone call.

The guilt intensified, a suffocating presence that threatened to consume him. He blamed himself for not being there, for not protecting you when you needed him the most. His mind raced with a barrage of "what ifs" and self-recrimination.

Sam comes back awhile later to inform Bucky he found where Y/N is held captive and they rush off to find you.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Y/N's heart raced as she found herself trapped, held captive by Brock. She knew Bucky would come for her, and she held onto that hope tightly. But the more Brock tortured he, she felt as if all that hope was slipping away.

"Poor, poor Y/N I really thought your boyfriend would save you" Brocks says putting a knife near your neck. "I can't believe he would let someone as precious as you thrown away"

"I don't give a fuck what you believe" you say spitting at brock

Brock punches you and you feel blood come out of your moth. "You need to learn to not be a bitch, before we can play". You can see the look Brock gave you and it didn't make you feel good. He starts to walk away and comes back with collar and puts it on you. You try moving your neck but you feel a sudden pain of electrical shocks.

He lifts your chin up "You better hope your boyfriend comes in time, because a few more shocks and your dead" he says with a smile while he walks outs.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

A few hours later you see the door open in but the tears in your eyes make it hard for you to make out the figure. There was so many of Brock's henchman here you couldn't tell which one was Brock or not.

That is when she caught a glimpse of Bucky hiding behind some crates. Bucky gave you a soft smile while he disapeared into the dark.

However, luck seemed to elude him as a creaking floorboard betrayed his presence. The sudden sound alerted Brock's henchmen, who immediately converged on Bucky, trapping him within their grasp. Bucky's heart raced as he found himself outnumbered, but he refused to back down.

As the first henchman lunged at him, Bucky swiftly dodged the attack. He retaliated with a powerful punch, sending his assailant crashing into a nearby wall. But there was no time to savor the victory as the others closed in, their fists flying.

Amidst the chaos, Bucky caught a glimpse of Sam swooping down from above. The familiar wings of his Falcon suit glinted in the darkness.

You saw while Bucky was fighting the henchman, Sam was taking you out of the facility and to the hospital. "You okay there, were almost to the hospital, then I'll go back for buck" Sam says holding you tightly as he brings you to the hospital. But you eyes start to close slowly, you didn't want to hold on for life anymore, you didn't want to be Bucky's burden, you just wanted some peace.

@vicmc624 @cjand10 @marygoddessofmischief @matchat3a @blue-chup @floralwsloki @kentokaze @internet-infuencer @666yourmomdotcom @zzziea @maddieislost @madi-is-kinda-lame @openup-yourmind @almosttoopizza @specialsnowflake-gabbi

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #james barnes x reader #james barnes x reader angst #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #lvrdrafts bucky barnes x reader #lvrdrafts bucky barnes x reader angst

2K notes · View notes

writing-for-marvel · 1 year

Note

A Solid Foundation

Builder!Bucky Barnes x Fiancé!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend suspects your fiancé of having an affair when he starts working late, but Bucky would never cheat on you, right?

Warnings: slight angst - discussion of Bucky potentially cheating (no actual cheating), soft fluff

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: thank you so much for this gorgeous inspiration my love 💕 this is my second entry for the Connect 4: Into an Alternate June-iverse Event by @buckybarnesevents, for the prompt ‘Modern AU’. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

“Where’s Bucky? You two just got engaged, I would have thought he’d barely be able to keep his hands off you - he does at the best of times.” Nat jokes before taking a sip of her wine.

She had been stopping off at your apartment on her way home to drop some supplies for your engagement party next weekend, when you invited her to stay for a drink, wanting to take your mind off your fiancés absence.

“He’s been working late recently.” You try to say nonchalantly, but Nat’s far too observant to miss the disheartened edge to your voice.

“He’s a builder. Start early, finish early, what’s he doing still working at 6:30?” You didn’t know the answer to that question. And though part of you is curious as to what he’s up to, you’re also nervous to find out the truth.

It’s Bucky, the man who has loved you through every high and low, treasured every part of you, especially on those days where your insecurities were at their worst. Who has done the silliest, most embarrassing things just to hear your laugh. Who trusted you enough to reveal his deepest trauma, who comes to your arms for comfort through every nightmare.

You find it difficult to believe that man would be capable of hurting you, even knowing he hadn’t been completely forthcoming with you the past few weeks.

“I’m not sure, he’s been a little secretive since we got engaged. I don’t wanna push him to talk about it, I just wish he knew he can trust me with whatever it is.” You say as Nat supportively takes your hand, something of sympathy in her eyes.

“Oh sweetie, you are far too pure for this world. Working late, the ring, the secrecy - has it crossed your mind that he might be having an affair?”

“It crossed my mind for half a second before I scolded myself. It’s Bucky, he would never cheat on me.” You state with conviction, the memory of each night you’ve fallen to a peaceful sleep in Bucky’s arms only supporting your belief that he would never put himself in that position with someone else.

“As much as I want to believe you, you know I’m a cynic. In my experience men are pigs, you give them an inch and they take a mile. I know he’s sweet and you love him, but at the end of the day, he is a man.”

But Nat doesn’t know Bucky intimately like you do, hasn’t experienced his selfless and generous heart day after day for the past two years, hasn’t been loved all-encompassingly by him like you have.

You’ve never even thought to question his loyalty to you - Bucky has never given you reason to.

You hear keys rattle in the front door and shoot Nat a look which unquestionably screams don’t bring this up.

Bucky smiles instantly when he sees you seated at the dining table, that same adoration and serenity brimming in his eyes as when he always comes home to you. Though you do notice his skin is somewhat flushed, as if he’s just been physically exerting himself, his hair looks a complete mess and appears slightly darker with sweat.

You know exactly what’s running through Nat’s mind at this very moment.

“I’m gonna let you two talk.” She declares with a perceptible tension in her tone as she stands and grabs her purse. “But I swear if you ever hurt her Bucko, you’ll die a slow, painful death.” She vows with a glare that seals her promise. Though you know Nat well enough to perceive she isn’t joking, Bucky seems to think she’s kidding.

“Duly noted Nattie.” He chuckles as he watches Nat shoot you an encouraging look and then make her way out the front door Bucky just walked through. “What was that all about?”

“She’s just being protective.” You justify, not knowing how to, nor really wanting to tell him that your best friend suspects he’s having an affair. “I told her you’d been working late recently.”

“What… she thinks I should instead be here doting on you hand and foot?” Bucky asks as he moves behind where you’re seated, his hands reach for the back of your neck and begin massaging the tension from your shoulders which had built up from your long week at work. “You know I’d much prefer to be here with you than working.” You shudder slightly at his words as he places a gentle kiss to the skin where your neck curves into your shoulder, your body subconsciously revealing that you don’t fully believe he was working.

“What’s wrong, doll?” He asks, feeling your muscles tense even further underneath his hands, and you internally curse yourself for letting Nat’s speculation get under your skin.

“Where were you tonight?” It’s a simple, four word question, yet the weight of significance on his answer feels like your whole world could start crumbling before you depending on his response.

“I told you this morning: Steve needed me working late.” Bucky replies without hesitation. It’s a straightforward answer, yet there’s something about it you can’t quite believe - a half truth that he’s practised too much that doesn’t quite feel natural. “Why do you ask?” There’s a hint of worry to his voice, as if you’re getting a little too close to something he’d like to keep to himself.

“Nat thinks ‘working late’ is code for you cheating on me.” You comment, placing all the blame on your friends postulation rather than your own curiosity.

You hope Bucky won’t hate you too much for indulging in your friends theory, that he won’t completely resent you for insinuating he’s been unfaithful. Because you don’t think he’s cheating on you, but you also don’t believe he was working late tonight.

Instead, Bucky steps towards you and tentatively places two gentle fingers under your chin, tilting your face so that you’re gazing directly into his vulnerable, sincere eyes.

“Doll, you know I would never, ever, hurt you like that. I love you, you’re my whole world, I wanna marry you and spend the rest of my days making you feel as loved and cherished as you make me feel.” You sense the heaviness of your engagement ring on your left hand, you’re still getting used to carrying the small weight of it around with you everyday, though right now it feels substantial.

“I know you wouldn’t Buck, but since you proposed you’ve been a little secretive. Long days, working weekends. I mean you have to admit it’s slightly suspicious.”

He sighs, coming to some sort of internal decision when his gaze meets yours again. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you in an attempt to distract you from the topic of discussion.

“I promise you, I can explain everything, but I think it would be easier to show you.” His hands snake down your arms and when he takes both your hands, pulls you from your seated position at the dining table.

“Show me?” You query, having no idea what that could indicate he’s been keeping to himself.

“Yeah, care for a drive?”

* * *

The night is dark as you sit in the passenger seat watching the world pass you by, the empty roads only lit by periodically placed street lamps and the bright headlights of Bucky’s truck.

You have no idea where he’s taking you - you’ve never been to this part of town before and have no preconceived ideas as to what being here indicates for his unplanned surprise.

Bucky drives with one hand on the steering wheel, the other rests comfortingly on your thigh, an indicator that he’s not upset about you insinuating he could be having an affair, and that where he’s taking you to is not a revelation you should be anxious about.

Soon enough he turns down an innocuous street and pulls the car to a slow stop. You're in the middle of a suburban area with expansive blocks of land, stopped a few metres behind an SUV that has stickers of a family of five and a dog on their back window. Looking over at Bucky, you find he’s staring at you with an excited expectancy from the driver's seat.

You turn to look out the car window and the reason Bucky’s been ‘working late’ hits you like a bus.

You’re parked in front of a half built house - at the moment it’s just studs and partitions, with an unemptied skip out the front, but you can see the skeleton of a beautifully spacious two story house.

He’s building you a home.

“Bucky…” You comment under your breath, unable to articulate the swarm of thoughts buzzing around your head and the pure love blooming in your chest like a flower as he rounds the car and opens the passenger door for you.

“I know it doesn’t look like much yet, it’s just the frame and foundation, but soon there will be a roof, walls, windows, and a proper floor. It’ll really start taking shape.” He's nervous, you can tell by his shaky tone of voice, which you find adorable.

“You’re building us a house?” Your stomach contorts with guilt when he smiles crookedly and nods. How could you have ever been suspicious of his long working hours when they were spent building a physical monument to his love for you?

“I wanted to build our dream house, somewhere we can grow old together.” Your heart just about bursts when these words fall from his lips. Though the night is dark, the moon and the small torch Bucky keeps in his truck are the only source of light available, you can see the fondness in his eyes.

You give him a sweet kiss before approaching the house, an outline in chalk on the ground indicates where a front porch will be built and the entry to the house is currently only the rectangular frame of timber.

Bucky starts walking you through the house hand in hand, explaining what he had planned each room to be used for. There's only wooden studs outlining every room and a concrete slab for a floor, but you can already imagine what the space will look like when it’s all complete.

The entry foyer has high ceilings where you can currently see the stars shining, a large winding staircase connects the ground floor with the one above. To one side is a large garage, an offset office and bathroom, to the other has a large sitting room.

As Bucky pulls you further into the structure, the house opens up to a large, open plan living area. You can picture cooking together in the kitchen, room enough for a large island where you can sit and watch as Bucky cooks you breakfast, sneaking kisses in between breaking eggs. A smile grows on your features as you imagine what the future holds for you two, and what you envisage is beautiful.

He shows you where he thinks the lounge room television would go, before steering you to the right to an open room where the walls don’t have horizontal studs like all the other rooms you’ve seen so far.

“And this will be your sunroom.” He comments, eying you with a smile as your jaw drops in awe.

“A sunroom?” You ask as your voice cracks and hot tears well in your eyes.

Your dream house always seemed so far out of reach, you wondered if you would ever earn enough to own a place of your own. But it didn’t stop you from wishing for your dream house. That concept had changed over the years, but the one aspect which remained the same was it containing a sunroom. A place where you could sit in quiet contemplation and read your plethora of novels in peace, the warm afternoon sun heating the room as you draped your legs over beloveds, finding tranquillity together.

Bucky really is making all your dreams come true.

“It wouldn’t be our dream home if we didn’t have the sunroom you always wished for. This entire wall will be a huge built-in bookshelf, then the rest will be just glass, looking out over our backyard and have the perfect view of the setting sun.”

You find yourself completely lost for words, unable to articulate how remarkable this entire house is, that he built it for you, and how you will forever come home to a physical reminder of just how much Bucky loves you.

“If there’s anything you don’t like I’ll change it. I want it to be perfect, I want you to love it.” He says as if he can’t see that you already adore every inch of the house he’s built, thinking that your silence indicates aversion rather than pure amazement.

“Bucky, it’s already perfect.” You lean over to kiss him, slow and sweet, because you need to express the overwhelming gratitude and affection for him doing something so special for you. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you when you were putting in your spare hours to build us a home.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry, doll, I shouldn’t have lied to you about where I was and what I was doing, but I wanted it to be a surprise.” His arms snake around your middle and pull you closer to him so none of the cool night air separates you.

“It is a surprise, such a wonderful surprise. I love you so much and I can’t wait to spend our life together here.” You say, looking up at him with wide eyes, only closing them to kiss the stubble on his sharp jawline.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know.” Bucky places a kiss to your forehead, his voice soft but heartfelt and full of tenderness.

For a moment you stay cuddled into his strong, warm chest, his arms gently stroking up and down your back in soothing motions, feeling completely loved and so excited to start your marriage in a new home together.

“Will you show me the bedrooms upstairs?” You ask with a small voice, part of you not wanting to move from Bucky’s embrace, but also intrigued to see how much more work he’s done in the name of love for you.

“Of course, my love.”

He kisses you once more, for emphasis, before guiding you carefully upstairs to show you the spacious master bedroom where you will be spending your first nights as a married couple.

If you're interested in seeing the floorplan I based the house off, you can find that here

1K notes · View notes

booksandabeer · 2 months

Text

Celebrating 10 Years of CA:TWS — A Stucky Rec List

Rec list for the CA:TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary (thank you so much for organizing this event! 💙) | Prompt: Memories

10 years, huh? 10 years of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 10 years of what many—myself included—still consider to be the best MCU movie ever made.

But also 10 years of post-TWS fanfiction. 10 years of Bucky Barnes Recovering and Steve Rogers' Sadness Errands; of Up All Night to Get Bucky and Revenge Road Trips; of Winter Soldier Trauma Umbrellas and Everybody Needing A Goddamn Hug; of Good Bros and Soft Epilogues. 10 years and tens of thousands of Steve/Bucky fics later, here we are.

So, to mark the occasion, let's take a trip down memory lane and celebrate the movie and the stories it inspired: One fic from each year since it all began:

There's really only one rule here: All fics are set before, during, or after the events of CA:TWS and/or reimagine its plot in interesting ways. Naturally, many of the fics on this list are post-TWS canon divergent, but I tried to go for a nice variety of length, genre, and popularity to keep it interesting. Speaking of popularity, this is very much not intended as a round-up of ‘most popular fics of each year’ because—and I say this with all the love and respect in my heart for those stories and their authors—nobody needs a rec list for that, and I believe in spreading the love. Here we go:

Poltergeists by enemyofrome | 17K, T

Author's summary: When the helicarriers blow up and the Winter Soldier goes on the run, he takes Steve with him. He's got a name written in Morse code on the inside of his arm, a ton of questions he doesn't know how to ask, and now, a new handler with absolutely zero sense of self-preservation to contend with. Life is hard. In which Bucky tries to figure out whether he's a human being, Steve does everything he can to keep from losing him again, and there are lots of explosions.

Starting off with one of the best versions of the 'Bucky didn't leave Steve, he took him with him after the Potomac' fics that were (and still are!) so popular post-TWS. This one stands out because of its fantastic beginning, its interesting take on how Bucky was broken and remade into the Winter Soldier, and because it allows both characters to be messy. It's a popular fanon trope that it's Steve who brings out a ruthless, almost vicious streak in Bucky, but here it's emphasized that this is very much a mutual thing. Just like Bucky, who's often afforded the "excuse" of still figuring out how to be a person again, Steve gets to be difficult here—without ever turning him into a stubborn asshole. They're both traumatized, and they're both allowed to show it and to lash out, including at each other. Also, this fic will give you capital-F Feelings about morse codes and apples. Believe me.

sleepwalk back to the battle site by ftmsteverogers | 22K, T

Author's summary: “I’m going to track down every HYDRA agent that’s left,” Bucky says, buckling his gun deftly to his belt. “And then I’m going to kill them.” “Oh,” Steve says. “Come with me?” Bucky asks, dangerous hands tucked into his pockets.

A classic post-TWS fic that picks up right after the movie ends. Equal parts Revenge Roadtrip, Bucky Barnes recovering, and Steve Rogers being in urgent need of a good hug. This starts out intensely melancholic—Steve's despair and helplessness are palpable and there's a scene involving a drinking glass that still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Halfway through, the story changes pace and becomes much more action-heavy, but it still manages to allow space for the quiet, intimate moments between Steve and Bucky. They have both become sharp and deadly men, but they're also allowed to be soft with each other. Their coming together feels sweet and inevitable. I also really enjoyed the Steve characterization here. His absolute conviction that Bucky is still Bucky at his very core and always will be, but also his emotional and intellectual flexibility to adapt to this still-new-to-him, changed version of Bucky rang very true to me.

Surveillance by Sproings, 7K in 2 parts, G

Author's summary: If there are ears everywhere, that means it's somebody's job to listen. I hate my job.

Do you ever think about how SHIELD bugged Steves DC apartment and how horrible that was, but also...you're kind of curious what they might have overheard? Do you ever wonder about the people who listened in on his sad, lonely life? Well, here you go. An outsider POV fic told "through the ears" of an unnamed SHIELD agent assigned to spy on the private life of a man who doesn't really have much of one. The story begins just before IM3 and takes us all the way through the events of CA:TWS and beyond. It's clever, original and told with great empathy for both the subject under surveillance and the person carrying out that surveillance—who increasingly questions its purpose. Here's a small snippet to give you an idea of the fic's style:

He got a phone call, once. He put it on speaker, too, which was very exciting for me at the time. It was from an archivist at the Smithsonian. They seemed really surprised that he answered his own phone calls. The two of them talked for a long time about an exhibit the museum was planning. A very long time. As if one of them was starstruck, and the other was desperate for any kind of human interaction.

What Gets You Through by velleities | 12K, M

Author's summary: For Steve, getting through each day is a process – one he’s currently failing at spectacularly. Feeling out of place in this brave new world, he hopes to find a home in Bucky, and looks for him with everything he’s got. But Bucky doesn’t want to be found, and when he does touch base with Steve, he never sticks around for long. Bucky has embraced the modern age, leaving Steve lagging behind – or so Steve believes, until Bucky shows him otherwise.

This post-TWS fic revolves around five encounters in liminal spaces, and each time Bucky has pieced himself back together again just a little more. Despite their increasingly longer and more honest conversations, and Bucky's incremental progress, he always disappears again, leaving Steve to grapple with his heartbreak. There are quietly gorgeous moments in this fic (the bus and the church in particular were my personal favorites) as well as wonderfully crafted characterizations. Bucky is initially portrayed as somewhat feral in some ways yet surprisingly well-adjusted in others, and I love that Steve can't help but be a little annoyed at that. However, it quickly becomes clear that, in good old Bucky Barnes fashion, much of it is really just a front put up for Steve's benefit...

A Real Boy by itsnotbleak | 5K, T

Author's summary: It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat. It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

A wonderful, short-but-doesn't-feel-like-it fic (in the very best way) set immediately after CA:TWS, in which Bucky secretly and then soon not so secretly visits Steve in his apartment. Follow along as Bucky Barnes argues with his brain about sandwich toppings, the importance of a good night's sleep, and the necessity of personal hygiene. Also: how to best go about becoming a real boy (again). And who the hell is that Bucky guy anway? This is as soft and sweet a Bucky recovery fic as you're ever going to find. It's funny but not silly; sad in a way that all of these stories inherently are—because, well, these are some tragic boys—but not super angsty or depressing. A beautiful story with a lovely, hopeful ending.

Savage God by PottersPink | 36K, M

Author's summary (abbr.): Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

An absolutely riveting AU that will have you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I'm itching to talk about it more but I cannot since it would mean spoiling the hell out of it. What I can say is that it's a very intriguing and clever exploration of what would happen if Steve knew about the future but without really knowing any of the details. How would it change the events of CA:TFA and CA:TWS, and how would it change Steve himself? I so very much appreciate this characterization of Steve as smart, competent, and unwavering with a hefty dose of no fucks left to give. This fic features some really nifty time travel and plotting, great action sequences and a very satisfying ending where certain people get their much-deserved comeuppance. Plus: Bonus Shrinkyclinks (kind of)!

Charlie Lock by seapigeon | 105K, M (hard M)

Author's summary (abbr.): The Winter Soldier knows that sometimes, in order to make the kill, you must destroy what the Target lives for. Steve Rogers knows that he can't fight his captors. If he fights, they'll kill Bucky. But the price of his life is steep. Tony Stark has nothing left to live for, but he's needed. So all these miserable motherfuckers better stay alive, too. Clint Barton never expected to be a leader. But a leader he is, and no one else is going to die on his watch. --- A story in which the first wave of Project Insight succeeds, and the Avengers must pick up the pieces and find a way to stop Hydra from completing its work with Zola's algorithm.

This is not only the longest fic on this list, but also the angstiest one—by a mile, so please heed the tags. It's dark, disturbing, and brutal. However, it is neither relentless misery porn nor is it shocking for shock's sake, where everything is magically forgotten and/or healed the moment Steve and Bucky start kissing. Instead, the author puts these characters into an absolutely horrifying situation and then slowly, gently guides them out of it and into the light.

It's a Stucky fic but it's also a multi-POV ensemble piece featuring all the Avengers and other familiar faces. If you are someone who'll always be a little bitter about the unfulfilled promise of an Avengers found family, then this is for you. In this AU, they do not only fight together, but grow together in every way. They truly become a team, not just co-workers barely tolerating each other. The story takes its time exploring the characters and the group dynamics. Steve and Bucky are definitely at the center of the narrative but there is space here for every member of the team to grieve and adjust to the new reality and to find at least some measure of healing. It's a story about the meaning and the consequences of revenge, about hope and resilience, and about love in all its many forms. It also has one of the most satisfying title drops that will have you pump your fist in triumph when it happens. It's a tough read, but ultimately a very rewarding one.

SPELEVINK by Ginny_Potter | 10K, G

Author's summary: Bucky’s back. He’s leaving me messages through IKEA plushies, Steve texts Sam. jesus christ, rogers, Sam texts back. Or, Bucky lives in an IKEA Tiny Apartment, Steve is a dancing monkey once again, and somehow they find their way back to each other.

This is an absolute DELIGHT of a fic that will have you alternately laughing out loud and crying quietly into your SVARTFIBBLA blanket (super-soft, recycled polyester, 47x63"). It's ‘crack treated seriously’ at its very best and a clear homage to the fandom classic Infinite Coffee… (that’s not a dig or a spoiler, the author says so in the author’s note).

Now if you know me, you’ll know that angst o’clock is my happy hour and I’m usually not very into these heavy-on the-humor quasi-absurdist fics (because I’m super special and not like all the other girls, obviously). But. I LOVED this story so, so much. It’s such a fun read—even when it makes you cry—and it really became one of those ‘huh, I guess I’m into this after all’ moments of joyful (self)discovery via fanfic for me. I never thought a pair of oven mitts could move me like that, and I'll never be able to walk into an IKEA again without muttering "F******!" under my breath (iykyk). Absolutely fantastic.

a handful of dust by RecoveringTheSatellites | 20K, M

Author's summary: Steve looks for Bucky for a long time. But the thing is that Bucky doesn't get found, Bucky finds. Bucky always finds Steve. This takes a hard left after the Potomac and stumbles through the dark a lot after. Take a bit of running, the occasional synaptic misfire, the resurfacing of old memories, a dash or two of PTSD, and (eventually) a nice dose of action, stir, and serve over some unresolved issues.

Honestly, the second paragraph up there perfectly sums up the story. It's a good ol' fashioned Bucky recovery fic with some angst, some action, and a whole lot of healing and devotion. Steve and Bucky get to be very sappy about each other, but also extremely Badass Battle Boyfriends™ when somebody threatens their hard-won happiness. Both are allowed to be messy, unstable, and very co-dependent.

This was the first time this author played in the Stucky sandbox and I mean it 100% as a compliment when I say that you can tell. This is someone with "fresh legs" diving headfirst and very deep into the Stucky trope pool and they're doing it with great relish and enthusiam. The result is a story that rejects some of the tried and true conventions of the post-TWS fanfic canon and lovingly embraces others, but that is definitely aware of and in dialogue with the body of work that came before it. Also, it's just a really fun read that gives these two the very soft ending they deserve.

Everybody is Supposed to be Dead by pollutedstar | 22K, M

Author's summary: In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic. In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.

A really interesting AU and a fascinating exploration of what could’ve been; the impact it would’ve had on the events and characters if Bucky had been the one to be “found” first. How would it affect Steve to come back into a world where he isn’t quite so lonely and adrift, and where he does have the relief and reassurance of having Bucky by his side and at his back? How would that have changed the way he acted and reacted to this strange new world and the people and organizations trying to recruit him to their cause even though the ice hasn't even completely melted off his body yet?

There are a lot of astute and precise observations about characters like Tony, Natasha, and Clint in this story, and on top of that, it offers up some very compelling insights into Steve's conflicted and difficult relationship with his role as Captain America.

it's never over (hey orpheus) by romcommie | 12K WIP, 2/?, M

Author's summary: He remembers a song first and then everything else follows, burying him below. Or, Bucky Barnes pieces a life back together with a few choice verses, some duct tape and seventy years worth of spite. Steve Rogers tries very hard to relearn there's a life to be lived in the first place.

Ok, listen up, people! This is a WIP and there are only 2 chapters posted so far, but I haven't felt this absolutely bonkers excited about a post-CA:TWS fic in a long while. We're talking frothing at the mouth here. I have such a massive crush on this fic, it's a bit embarrassing, really. It's one of those fics where you know after just a few paragraphs that you're in very good, very competent hands. The wealth of historical and cultural detail; the way the story shifts/flips/flickers back and forth between time, perspective and narrative levels; the Bucky voice—it's all so well done! I'm so insanely excited to see where the author takes this!

ENJOY!

#catws10 #stucky #stucky fic rec #stucky fic #stucky rec list #steve x bucky #stucky fic recs #steve x bucky fic rec #stevebucky fic rec #stevebucky #my recs #*drops this and runs aways* this rec list nearly gave me an aneurysm. you're welcome!

401 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 8 months

Text

Your Mark On Me, Part 5

Summary: Bucky and Shy Violet

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Shy!Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, depictions of anxiety/panic attack, depictions of social anxiety, mentions of child abuse, mentions of death of a parent, arson, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.9K

Series Masterlist

*Bucky Barnes edits by Nix Akimbo

*Dividers by @firefly-graphics

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

You inhale deeply. Exhaling as you take another step forward. This was a bad idea. It hadn’t been long enough.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Blinking away the tears as much as you can, you look at the aisle in front of you. Grocery shopping shouldn’t be so difficult. And it shouldn’t hurt so much. You drank coffee. You needed things to make the perfect coffee, and it made you think of your father all over again.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

You’re not a particularly claustrophobic person, but the aisles are closing in on you. It is becoming difficult to breathe. Just reach out and grab the milk. It was right there, and you needed it. You were told getting out would help you. It wasn’t.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

There are eyes all on you. They are judging you. Whispering about you. They hadn’t seen you out since before your father passed. They were talking about his death. You hear someone even whisper something about a mercy kill.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Your lip trembles as you reach into the cooler. Grabbing onto the milk. You did it. Now to put it into the cart. Inhale. Exhale. One movement at a time. This would have to be all you got for for today, you are already exhausted thinking about checking out. A cart crashes into another, and you flinch, dropping the milk loudly onto the floor. Exploding the carton everywhere.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Dropping onto the floor, you hug your knees to your chest, counting to six way too many times. You messed up again. You failed again. You were being laughed at again. You were hated again. You were a joke again.

“Hey,” his voice is soft as he places your hand over his mouth. “Feel my breath,” you look up at him confused as he deliberately breathes onto your fingers. His silver eyes look at you with the utmost tenderness.

“There ya go. Just like that,” your breathing starts to regulate, and you feel your ass soaked in spilled milk. “Uh uh, keep feeling my breath,” his voice is soothing. Caring. You hadn’t heard a voice like that in years, if ever.

Your body slowly stops rocking as your breathing finally gets back normal, “There she is. Do you need help standing?” You give him a nod, and he pulls you up right along with him. “You want me to get you some more milk?”

“No,” you answer suddenly. He doesn’t question you. Just nods gently. “I’ll just make a grocery order, and pick it up later.

“Okay,” he doesn’t say anything. He just watches you walk towards the exit. You didn’t even thank him. You just walked away. You couldn’t turn back now. So you tell him thank you in your mind, and hope that with enough conviction, he will be able to feel it.

Bucky’s mouth turns up into a smirk as he follows you. Not close enough that you will notice him though. He had to make sure you were okay. Had to know that you would make it home safely. He’d even provide you with milk if that’s what you needed. But something tells him that approaching you would be too much.

He’d find out where you lived, and then find out more about you. It wasn’t weird, it was his duty to make sure you survived making it home. A panic attack could be dangerous. And he wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.

Close enough to watch you, but far enough away that you couldn’t see him. That is his goal.

Bucky leans his body up against his motorcycle. His eyes are focusing in through your window. He worried about you. You had left in such a hurry, and your driving had much to be desired. Dusty old truck. No way it was yours.

You pace around in your living room before sitting on the couch. Bringing your knees up to your chest, you start rocking back and forth. Whatever had caused your panic earlier still was causing havoc on your mind. He knows there’s nothing he could do without making you even more uneasy, but he can’t leave you unattended.

What if something were to happen, and you needed him? It’s a risk he wasn’t willing to take. So instead, he watches you out of the corner of his eyes, while he searches around for your story. So much was put out on the internet for people to find with very little research.

A few clicks and he discovers your veteran father had just passed away recently. Survived only by his daughter. You. Judging by the state of the house, you were the sole caregiver. A few more clicks, and he sees you are quite the prolific writer. You had taken a sabbatical, to care for your father, and you wrote under the pen name Violet Anne Bailey.

It wasn’t your real name, but there is something about Violet that suited you. A shy Violet whose power was in her words. He goes ahead and buys all your books, just to understand your mind a bit more. You are celebrated. Loved. And no one knew or cared that you had a tornado of emotions being worked out in your head.

It’s a shame to see someone who is able to weave and create worlds have her own world in shambles. He needs to know about your father. What was your relationship like? Was he a good man to you? Bucky would kill him again if he wasn’t.

His eyes scan over his phone, determining he was definitely going to have to kill him again. How many domestic violence charges were made and dropped against this man? How many CPS visits were made to this very house. No wonder you were inside of your head, you were still living in your own personal hell.

There were no convictions. Bastard. No one in your life ever put you first. Once upon a time you even had an apartment on your own, but it was short lived. Your dumb ass father had you crawling back here to care for him. He hates him. You had spent his dying days caring for him, but no one cared for you.

Bucky would. Bucky would stay right here just to make sure you were okay. Bucky would do whatever he could to ensure you made it out of here. And could finally relax. Could quit living in turmoil. You deserved better. You deserved freedom.

You slam your computer shut, and rub the back of your neck. Three words. Three insignificant measly words. This place ruined your creativity. You lost your apartment. And nothing was available to rent, and now you sit on a stinky couch with cigarette burns all over the cheap fake leather.

This house smelled musty. Holes in the wall, light fixtures broken, the useless house phone was pulled out of the wall, leaving creepy wires hanging out of the sheet rock. Who even knew where it was. His bedroom was locked on the outside. It was your first act of defiance. Removing the latch from your own bedroom, and placing it on his. Even his stupid padlock was placed there. It stayed locked. His mean self would probably haunt you in your sleep if it wasn’t.

Sleep you hadn’t been getting. You catch your face in the broken mirror, and turn away. Haggard. You had never looked so rough. He was dead, and still you knew no peace. His final abuse of his power was to make sure you never forgot him. In death he still controlled your thoughts. You still tapped on doors three times before opening them. You still could only leave the sink faucet running for ten seconds at a time.

And the worst part is no matter how neurotic he made you, it didn’t matter how many times he shouted at you, or threw things beside you, you didn’t hate him. You made excuses for him. He didn’t throw things at you. He always missed. His words of anger were more directed to your mother who left him. And you. She couldn’t handle his PTSD. Or apparently you.

You wanted more than this crappy house. It received the brunt of the abuse. He never even bothered to fix the damages. How it didn’t burn down with him passed out on the couch, you’ll never understand. His liver. Of course it was his fucking liver. You got to see an alcoholic choose his death of withering away from his addiction.

You didn’t ask for this. And neither did he. War is not kind to anyone. Especially survivors or their families.

You slap your own hand out of your mouth, and stare down at the gnarled skin. Just how long had you been chewing on your finger? The cuticles were dry and ripped to shreds. You needed a manicure, but the thought of another human touching you, while everyone else giggled about their lives makes you sick to your stomach.

He was always going to control your life. You hated him, and pitied him, and still you are the one that suffers. This house wasn’t even worth selling. Perhaps the land would be. But this place was trash. It was begging to be burnt to the ground.

You wondered how many times your father’s cigarette fell on this couch that the walls of the house smiled in glee. Fire would cleanse this place. Fire would cleanse you.

Placing your hands on your knees, you push yourself up to a standing position, and look down the hallway. His bedroom door still had the padlock on it. The key was on a chain around your neck. You didn’t even trust your father’s ghost. He’d be pissed if he knew you locked his spirit up where he slept. You did care.

Taking a deep breath, your shaky hands lift up to place the key in the lock. Twisting it slowly before you push it open. Nothing had changed. And you didn’t try to work on improving anything here. You wanted a cleanse. Your wobbly legs carry you to his bedside table, and you pull out the matches. Your body locks in place as your father’s ghost screams inside your mind.

He is pissed. He knows what you’re doing, and you just didn’t care.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Taking a deep breath, you strike a match, and lay in gently on the bed. Lighting a few more, and repeating the process. His liquor. Cheap Canadian Mist whiskey was still hidden in the closet. Grabbing it out, you pour the remains onto the bed, watching a burst of flames that darken the ceiling. It is beautiful.

Some people describe fire as biting and evil. These tickled the air. Rejoicing right along with you as it eats up vile memories that your father left behind. You go back into the closet, and pull out the other bottles of whiskey. Pouring them onto the floor, and creating trails to other parts of the house.

You needed it all gone. Every bit of it. You didn’t want any more ties to this damn house. Finishing up in the living room you pick up your laptop, and hold it tight to your chest. The crackles from the fire feel almost cozy. Leaving you with a beautiful memory before you say goodbye.

You watch it as your fiery friend starts to travel to where you are. Greeting you with a big smile as it engulfs your surroundings. You whisper a silent thank you as sleep starts to cloud your vision. It will be a divine ending for this house. One it didn’t deserve.

Bucky bursts through the door, and you’re too enraptured by the cleansing of your childhood, you don’t take notice. “What the fuck!” He grunts, stomping over towards you. Grabbing onto you as he pulls you out of the house.

The further he takes you the more you start to focus again, “No! I wanna watch it,” you sob, trying to wipe the tears away from your face. You need to see this. It would heal you. “I gotta see, please!”

The figure behind you never removes his hold, but he stands still, allowing you to watch the house be swallowed up by hell. Just like it deserved. A sad smile creeps up onto your face when you finally hear the sirens. It was too far gone. They couldn’t save it.

An old high school boyfriend turned firefighter gives you a nod before rushing with his colleagues. There is nothing left but the bones of the house, and even those were slowly turning to ash. He was never going to be able to haunt you again. You gave him away to his demons. Right along with his favorite thing. Canadian Mist.

“You got somewhere to go?” Your ex says your name, but you’re too busy watching everything start to crumble. “You her boyfriend?”

“Not exactly,” Bucky extends a hand out to the man, “Bucky.”

“Jake. She uh…she started this didn’t she?” Bucky shrugs his shoulders. He assumed you started it. It happened so fast. He barely even finished pissing when he heard the blazing death trap. “I’m the one that investigates this. She talked about it being her dream for a while. I don’t want charges brought against her. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I understand, and if you need some monetary compensation for making sure she doesn't get charged, I can make that happen.”

Jake shakes his head. He looks down at you, but you are in a complete zone? Shock? None of the words seemed to fit. He supposes it's all the above. “She needed this. She’s cleansing. It’ll be wiring or something. That house has had its fair shares of small fires that the old man put out with an extinguisher anyways. No one will question it. I’m also pretending to be taking her, well your, statement. Just trust me. Can you tell me where you're taking her?”

“Are you her boyfriend?” Bucky’s eyes narrow at the younger man, but he shakes his head no.

“I’m just a friend. She’s a good one. Didn’t deserve these past few months. It’s…it’s changed her even more. Uhh…you’ll make sure she’s safe tonight? That she’ll be okay?”

“I’m the one that got her out of that house. She was standing in shock in the living room.”

“She’ll need her medication. Last I talked to her the psychiatrist prescribed some things. She told me therapy was helping. But she needed this. Just give me the address, and I’ll come by in the morning,” Bucky nods to the boy, and Jake jogs to his truck. It was a lost cause for the house, but they had to put the flames out. This would have been a decent place to live, but it seemed like a bad omen to build here.

“Violet?”

“That’s not my real name,” you respond, finally turning to look at who is holding you. “Y-y-your the guy that…from the grocery store.”

“I was coming to bring you milk. You never got it,” that was a bit of a lie, and you knew it. There wasn’t a car. Only a bike. And there was definitely no milk. “Do you have somewhere you can stay?”

Shit. This wasn’t thought through. You had nowhere, and nothing. Just the clothes on your back, and the laptop in your arms. A different kind of tears wells up in your eyes as you look between the house and Bucky.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

“Hey, hey, I gotta place. There’s two bedrooms, and a couch. I’ve got some clothes that don’t smell like smoke, a warm shower, and even Wi-Fi.”

“Do you have milk?” Bucky chuckles a bit, and nods his head. “You don’t want to kill me?”

“If I wanted you dead, I’d have left you in that house.”

“I don’t like people.”

“Good. Neither do I. It’s a small little house outside of town. No neighbors,” what other choice did you have? If Jake didn’t have a girlfriend, he might have been an option. Even though you would have felt obligated to sex. You didn’t want sex. You wanted to sleep.

“Do you have anything besides cheap whiskey to drink? I haven’t been sleeping a lot lately.”

“I have melatonin,” you scrunch up your nose, annoyed at his words. “I also have something that might be of comfort. Come on. Let’s get you somewhere out of the cold, and get a shower. I’ll make you some soup.”

“I like pizza rolls better.”

“I don’t have those, but I have pepperoni, cheese, marinara, and I can make it happen,” who was this man? When things are too good to be true they often are. “I’m Bucky.”

The longer you’re on the back of his motorcycle the more you worry about yourself. Why are you here? Why are you with him? What if he wants to murder you? What could possibly be worse?

He smelled nice. He had kind eyes despite the piercings and tattoos he had. He never touches you more than necessary. His hand never drops to your thigh to make you uncomfortable, but who was he? Was he bad news? Was he your worst mistake? And you just left with him. This wasn’t good.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

“We’re almost there,” his head turns to the side, hoping that you hear him. You did. It’s tunnel hearing. It’s the only thing you heard. His voice is nice.

His bike pulls into a garage, and you take in your surroundings. Maybe he meant good, but maybe he was pure evil. Would he have saved you just to murder you? Maybe. It’s what they did to prisoners.

“Come on,” he holds his hand up for you, and you take it nervously. I’ll grab some clothes, and show you to the bathroom. Take as much time as you need. I think Jake wants you to send him your address. It’s 42 Cherry Tree Lane,” nodding your head, you sit your computer down on the nearest surface, and pull your phone out of your pocket. Thankfully it had been there.

“I’ve got a charger you can use.”

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Fluff takes you out of your mind space, and you look down to see the most beautiful fluffy cat staring up into your soul with beautiful blue eyes. It weaves its body in and out of your legs, and you look up at your savior with glossy eyes.

“I’m impressed,” he squats down to hold out his hand, but the kitty doesn’t move towards him. “Alpine, are you ignoring me? She’s normally a hater of new people. Baby, come see me,” his voice is still so soft, but she doesn’t attempt to leave your legs.

“She's a good companion. Alpine, baby girl, you watch our guest, I’m going to get her some clothes. You want to show her the bathroom, she smells like smoke,” Alpine purrs again, and sets off at a trot. Stopping to look back at you when you don’t follow.

“She’s showing you where to go, and it looks like my bathroom.”

“Oh, I don’t have to…”

“Alpine is the boss here. If she wants you in the big bathroom, that’s where you should go,” you chase after the kitty with Bucky right behind you. She jumps up on the counter, and sits up proudly looking at the bathtub.

“Here,” Bucky hands you a few clothes, and you mouth thank you, but no sound comes out. “You can take my bed,” he shrugs his head back into the bedroom, and then points to under the counter. “Just keep the bathroom door open. This is her bathroom, too.”

“Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you know how to make grilled cheese?”

Bucky stands at the edge of the woods watching you walk around the house. Nothing on but your silk robe. He could see your nipples pushing against the fine fabric. Alpine was meowing up at you while you pace. She always worried about you when you got like this. He wondered how many nights you had been like this. You missed him. This was like your waiting game. Every night pacing the living room floor. Picking up your baby kitty to kiss over her fur.

And every night Bucky saw you on the cameras, he missed you even more. He shouldn’t make you wait, but there is something sweet in your routine. Your mouth moves as you count to six. Biting at your lip and looking out into the woods. You wouldn’t see him, until he was ready for you to.

He steps out of the shadows, and your face immediately lights up. Smiling so big as you pull the phone up to your ear, “Bucky, what are you doing?”

“Watching you,” he answers softly. Taking only one step closer to you.

“How long have you been watching me?”

“A while,” taking another step, he laughs when you puff out a bit of air in annoyances.

“Yeah, well, you could go ahead and come home. Seeing how you’ve left me here for weeks by myself,” there you had to go and put your fingers on the window. You are adorable, and he just wants to hold you. Rubbing up and down on the glass, like you are touching him.

“Yeah?” He whispers, taking one single step forward. “And just how do you think you’re going to get me in the house?” You hang up the phone, and pull apart your robe. Nothing else was on. There is only one person you feel comfortable with, and it was Bucky. You smooth your hands down the curves of your body, starting to laugh when Bucky sprints towards you.

Slinging open the door, you jump into his arms the second he crosses the threshold. Smiling up at him in your so sweet way, “Hey, James,” you giggle, kissing the tip of his nose. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, my Shy Violet,” he bites at his lip just once, but his eyes never stray from your angelic face. He makes no comment about your cunt pressing up against his stomach, or your tits just below his eye sight. “What have you been doing without me?”

“I finished my book,” god, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on. “Want me to read you the last chapter?”

“Of course, Shy,” leaning towards you, he gives you the softest chaste kiss. Ghosting his lips down to your chin where he kisses up your jaw. Ending right behind your ear, “you want me to make us some hot chocolate?”

“Oh,” you give him a little pout, trying to wiggle out of his arms. “James, put me down.”

“I can multitask. I don’t have to put you down,” his nose nuzzles into your neck, and all the anxiety of him being gone melts completely away. You learned a long time ago to not worry about what goes on with the business, to just be happy he was with you. “Shy, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Tell me what she’s like,” Bucky gives you a bit of an eye roll as he sits you on the counter. You start to close your robe, but he shakes his head no.

“No, you…you keep that how it was. I need something pretty to help decompress.”

“Do you like her?”

“She’s a troublemaker, and also oddly perfect for Steve,” Bucky isn’t the most forthcoming with information. You had to prod him a bit. “You know how Steve is.”

“Just from what you tell me. He’s intense, he’s a brute, he’s passionate, and he’s quick to anger. He sounds like a terrible person for me to be around. Does he actually like her though?” Bucky waits until he pours out the milk before looking back at you, nodding his head. “How do you know?”

“He hasn’t killed her,” your mouth drops open in surprise. Surely Bucky was joking. “She has this bratty side that fulfills this need to control that Steve has. She’s a virgin, and it’s made him blind. So blind he didn’t realize what a target she’s become. People are beginning to realize Steve has a weakness. It’s wrapped up in this cute little packaging.”

“Would…you’ll die trying to save her life, won’t you?” He walks over to you, placing his hands on either side of your body. Pulling his arms in closer until he’s squeezing you. His head lays down on your chest, and you wrap your arms around him tightly. “Who’s going to protect me then?”

“You don’t need protection anymore. You’re more of a fighter than you realize,” that’s not what you wanted to hear. “Shy, baby, what is it?”

“I don’t want to fight anymore. I fought my whole life, and when I’m with you I get to relax, and breathe, and I don’t have to count. You’re my safe space,” moving his hands on both your cheeks, he presses his lips against yours, and holds you. “I don’t like her.”

“You’re not going to meet her.”

“Can’t Steve just…he can ask anyone to guard her. Why not Scott or someone else? James, I need you. She doesn’t need you. I…do,” his cool blue eyes stare so deeply into yours. Such a bittersweet homecoming this was turning into. “You don’t want to burn the milk, Jamey.”

Exhaling slowly, he turns to tend to the milk, but holds a hand behind him for you to touch. You hated a woman you never even met. And hated that even more. “Is she nice to you?”

“She invited me in for coffee, and got her ass spanked.”

“What does her pussy look like?”

“You sound jealous,” you weren’t jealous. You just didn’t get Steve’s kink of needing to show his women off. “Shy, you know the only puss I want to look at is Alpine. And the only pussy I want to taste is you.”

“Don’t call our daughter a puss,” you scrunch up your nose, ready to call Alpine, just so you could hug her. “She’s beautiful. And perfect.”

“Just like her mama,” he smiles, turning back with two mugs of hot cocoa. “Here, my sweet little Shy girl. You want to read your chapter for me?” You shake your head no, pushing aside his shirt. “Are you jealous that you can’t see my titties, too?”

“Yep. You have nice titties, so let me see them,” setting his mug down just to remove his shirt, and you pull him right up to your chest. “I love you, bubba.”

“I love you, baby. Have you thought more about what we talked about?”

“Remind me,” you giggle, giving him quick little kisses to his chest, but he pulls you up to look at him. Holding you by the chin.

Bucky sighs, running his thumb over your lips. His voice is so soft, “I don’t want just Alpine to be our daughter.”

“We can get another cat.”

“I meant a baby. I want a baby with you.”

“Do you promise not to die?” With his crooked smile, he nods his head one time, “I’m ovulating, Jamey.”

With one twinkle of an eye to let the words set in, he scoops you up in his arms, carrying the two of you to the bedroom. His eyes still never stray. Ever the gentleman. Always. Laying you down on the bed, he spreads your legs wide, staring down at your glistening folds. Spitting down, his fingers gently massage your bundle of nerves.

“You didn’t need my spit.”

‘You have this ability to always turn me on. Mmm,” you sigh as your body starts to heat up. Relaxing at his ministrations. His free hand starts undoing his pants before he shakes himself out of them. Stopping his touch on you only to crawl on the bed, and uses your legs to pull him where he needs you.

“Remember what the doctor said,” you remind him, and he yanks you tighter against him. His cock laying flat against your body, and the salacious moan for what little he was doing rings into the bedroom. “We gotta let — let your cum sit me in.”

“I’ll fucking plug you up if I have to. I just want to see your cute little bump with our baby inside of you.”

“Shh, I’m supposed to be getting fucked, not having dreams of you holding a baby,” his hand adds pressure to his cock, and he slides it through your velvety lips. Getting right at your entrance when he smirks at you. He only thrusted hard one time, and that was entering inside of you. Bucky was someone who made love.

You brace yourself, nodding slightly, and he rails into you. The only thing stopping him are your bodies colliding. You were never going to get used to his size, and yet, your body always craved him. Always needed him.

He lets your back settle on the bed, and he drops his weight on you. Holding himself up by his forearms, “Hey, pretty Shy. Are you gonna let me know when you’re good?”

“Mhmm,” you breathe him in. Inhaling his masculine scent. Your fingers drift up and down his back. Going lower each time until your dainty little fingers grip the voluptuous spheres of his ass. “I’m…” another word gets stuck in your throat as Bucky draws his hips back.

His cock slides out of you before it slowly pushes back in. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just the two of you. Only you and him in a bubble of love and safety. You aren’t sure how Bucky was able to take every brick off your wall, and allow himself into your heart, but he did.

He was always surprising you. A man that everyone feared was the biggest teddy bear when it came to you, and your daughter, Alpine. He hadn’t ever raised his voice towards you. Your arguments were minimal. You two had created a good life. You had gone to his small little house, and never left him. Even made a big step in buying a house together out in the middle of nowhere.

Bucky’s lips pucker out randomly for a kiss. It’s like even though he’s closer to you than he can possibly get, he still can’t get enough. They’re just pecks, but they’re desperate and needy. Giving a roll over on the bed, he stares up at you as you readjust your body.

Getting settled, you bounce over him. Admiring your boyfriend’s dashingly handsome face, and a sinful body. Bucky was carved by the gods in the sky, and the underworld. A fallen angel completely. Intricate lines, and blacked out blank spaces covered him from the waist up. He would even let you color them in with markers during your writer’s block

He was all you had ever wanted, and even more than you could have imagined. Even your most perfect fictional boyfriend did not compare to the man that was whimpering below you. You loved it when got like this. Hearing him turned on by your movements, so much that he got vulnerable and made sweet sounds makes you melt.

No man should be like this, and yet there he is. You feared Steve was asking too much of him, and all you wanted was for him to start coming home every night like he used to. It wasn’t being selfish. It was protecting Bucky when he couldn't’ protect himself.

He grabs tightly to your hips, holding you still before he launches himself up inside of you at lightning speed. Eyes rolling into the back of your head as heat drains into your belly. That fuzzy feeling that only Bucky could create tickles every inch of your body. Right as you start to scream his name, that familiar high speeds through your veins, followed by his warmth painting your walls.

Thick ropes of cum shoot into your womb, and he flips you back on your back. The backs of his knuckles brush against your skin as he smiles down at you. “Shy, will you marry me?”

“Will you always come home to me?”

“Yes.”

Bucky brushes your baby hairs off your face. Looking down at his fiance. You’ll notice the ring when you wake up. He hates himself for asking you that way, but it felt right in the moment. Alpine snuggles up against you, your own little heating pad. She once loved only Bucky, and now she just tolerated him.

He glances back down at your printed out manuscript. Reading the final paragraph for the finished book. He didn’t deserve you. He wasn’t a good enough man to come home to someone as perfect, and as smart as you, but he did. Every book you wrote amazed him at how you created worlds from nothing.

It was your way of escaping as a child. Fabricating fictional worlds, so you didn’t have to be present in your real life. The best part of your books is he could tell what part was influenced by him. The way you saw Bucky is something no one ever has before. You saw him as an innocent angel, and Bucky was more of a devil, and had no wings.

You stir in your sleep, looking up at Bucky, “How long have you been up?” You ask without opening your eyes.

“A while. Go back to sleep. It’s still dark,” you blink yourself partially awake as you stare at him. They didn’t make perfect men. They just made Bucky.

“What do you got?”

“Baby, this is perfect,” reaching out to hold his hand, you gasp looking at your own. The most pretty little diamond. It was just what you wanted. It wasn’t gaudy or flashy. It was just perfect. “You were so sleepy I was able to slip it on.”

“You had an actual ring? How were you going to propose? Surely it wasn’t while your sperm was trying to find my egg, was it?”

“No, sweetheart,” he chuckles, sliding his fingers over the pretty diamond. “I was going to cook us dinner, and we were going to walk to the river, and while you were busy trying to sit on the swing, I was just going to drop to my knees.”

“I like the way you did it better.”

“Oh, yeah, why’s that, you sex fiend?”

“Because we were together. Hopefully creating a life. Even if our daughter was fussing on the other side of the door. It was very us, bubba.”

“I’m going to talk to Steve about getting Dove her own bodyguard. You’re right. I think Natasha would be a good fit for her.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, and he pulls you in close to his body. He gets a short death stare from Alpine, but she falls back asleep soon after. “We can’t lose you.”

“We?”

“Yeah, eventually, me, you, and Alpine will have our little human.”

“Well, mama Shy, close your eyes, and get some rest. Grow our little egg. You’ve got me all weekend,” that sounds heavenly. You hate to waste it on sleep, but you were tired, and your baby was so warm and cozy. Bucky was, too.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloki @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @softherveauxs @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee

#your mark on me #bucky x reader #tattooed!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #tattooed!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfict #bucky barnes smut

509 notes · View notes

marvelvillian23 · 3 months

Text

PLEASE!! I need fics rec for all of these! Especially the Convict. Please be multi Chapter fics.

It even can be Steve in these situations instead of Bucky I don’t mind.

*Photos From Pinterest

I’m currently reading Blood Moon Rising on AO3 by Sarahyellow.

It’s a A/B/O prison story where Bucky’s the convict and pre serum Steve is the prison counselor…I think. A riot breaks out and Bucky takes Steve hostage. 5/8 Chapters are up so far.

221 notes · View notes

rookthorne · 3 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

A few visitors to the cabin take both Bucky and you by surprise, and the sweet, kind creatures were as curious about you as you were of them.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☘︎ Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☘︎ 1.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☘︎ Tooth rotting fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☘︎ I was a puddle after I wrote this one.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ☘︎ Shrike by Hozier

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☘︎ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was one of the rare slow days — a quiet, restful reprieve before the real hustle and bustle of the final days before Christmas began in earnest. Bucky was determinedly making the most of it.

You were cosied up on the couch in the living room while the fireplace crackled and glowed with flames that warmed the chilled room. The dogs were snoozing in their beds and their snuffled snores filled the comfortable silence, when you felt the mass of flannel and muscle shift beside you.

Bucky was curled up on the couch next to you, his head resting comfortably on your thigh, while his nose was buried in his new book. It was only with a slight sense of mischief did you occasionally run your hands through his hair, smiling at the shiver that ricocheted down his spine and the small noise of contentment he made.

“‘M tryna focus, Clover,” he protested with no real conviction. You hummed an apology and stopped the ministrations of your hand to rest it on your thigh, just above his head.

There was a beat of silence, then, “Wait– I didn’t–” Bucky said, looking up at you confusedly, and he blindly reached for your hand to grab it with his. “Where–?” You couldn’t help the huffed laugh that escaped when he finally found your hand and moved it back to where you had taken it from — the locks of brown hair parted around your fingertips. “Please.”

You quietly chuckled and continued to run a hand through his hair.

Something suddenly moved in your peripheral vision, and you looked up. Koda had sat up, too — her ears were perked forward and her gaze sharp out the window and towards the trees outside of the cabin.

“What is it, baby?” you asked as Bucky sat up to look for the source of her fixation.

Koda barked and huffed; her shuffling paws clicked against the wooden floor. The window misted over where her nose was shoved against the glass pane.

“Oh– Look, Clover—c’mere, look!” Bucky rushed as he got to his feet.

You glanced at him, then back out of the window — a small herd of deer, no more than five of the creatures, were slowly, cautiously appearing between the trees. “Oh, goodness.”

“Quick, get your camera, baby,” Bucky whispered, and he dashed towards the door to get your coats. “If we go slow, maybe they’ll let you take pictures!” The dogs moved to follow him, but he turned on the spot and placed a hand over their muzzles to hush their small, excited yips. “No, you’ll only scare ‘em—shh, quiet!”

They tried to whine and bark, but he held fast.

You chuckled quietly and strode to the bookshelf, where your camera awaited. The treasured device rested against your chest while you adjusted the strap to sit comfortably around your neck, when Bucky suddenly said, “Wait, I know.” He dashed into the kitchen, only to reappear a few seconds later with two bones. A brown paper bag was stuffed into his coat pocket.

The appearance of the dog’s favourite treat made their tails thump on the wooden floor, and Bucky tossed the two cuts towards their beds. “Now quiet down.”

“Buck, what have you got there–”

“Corn,” he answered, and he grabbed your hand to pull you towards the door, his smile brighter than the white snow that covered the ground outside.

The air was frigid and still, but when the deer spotted the two of you on the few steps of the porch, they lifted their noses and sniffed the air. “Are they tame?” you wondered aloud, looking at Bucky from the corner of your eye. “Did you–?”

“I’ve only seen one herd in these parts,” he mumbled in reply, and he squinted his eyes at the visitors. “Wait here.”

You did so, perched on the step with your camera in hand while Bucky steadily but slowly walked forward, his soft voice cooing reassurances and quiet nothings to the herd.

It was only when a much smaller deer — a fawn with gangly, long legs, and overly large ears stepped out from behind a tree with a doe did you truly struggle in restraining the glee that vibrated through your limbs. They were a beautiful sight to behold, truly sweet and innocent.

Bucky made a noise of surprise before he turned back to you, a wide grin tugging at his lips. “This is the herd that comes ‘round—I rescued the fawn’s mom.”

The snow crunched under Bucky’s boots as he walked towards the herd, a hand outstretched in an offering to greet them in the best way they understood. A softer, fluffier dusting of snow covered their pelts like a second skin, adding to the white, mottled spots of their coats and making the softer browns richer in tone.

You could not turn the camera on fast enough. It whirred to life just as Bucky reached them and through the lens, you zoomed in to better capture their beauty. The mother of the fawn stretched her neck out to sniff at Bucky’s hand, and you snapped a few photographs while being mindful of keeping your happiness contained — they would spook at any loud, sudden noise.

From across the yard, Bucky called you over. “C’mere, baby. Come and say hello.”

The camera clicked one final time, and you pulled the screen from your line of sight, only to gasp in surprise. Bucky was standing among the herd, his hands outstretched and heaped with corn while he laughed at the does that were curious — their noses followed his movements with keen interest.

He laughed as one of them stuck their nose into his coat pocket, searching for more snacks. “They love the corn, come an’ give ‘em some for your photos.”

“Okay,” you said nervously, and you stepped forward, moving slower and slower as you neared the clustered herd. “They’re not–”

“Nah, they’re okay,” Bucky assured, and he gestured for you to hold your hand out. “Here, give ‘em some, then they’ll love you.”

The corn was heaped into your hand, and you offered it to the nearest deer, who, much to Bucky’s amusement, turned their nose up at it. You frowned, disheartened at her rejection, but then the small fawn wandered over, their long legs unsteady in the snow. “Hello, little one,” you whispered, and you offered your hand, palm flat and low to the ground.

“That’s it, baby,” Bucky praised — you looked up from the fawn and saw him petting the mother, her nose shoved into his other hand while she chewed heartily. The fond smile on his lips made your chest warm in admiration. “It was years ago now. Freezin’ cold winter and I thought she wouldn’t make it. Somehow, I scared the bear that was attackin’ her off and took her back home,” he explained. “Took a few weeks, and a lotta patience, but she’s right as rain now, aren’t you, little one?”

A small noise escaped between the doe’s enthusiastic chewing, when you felt a small push against your fingers. You gasped quietly and looked down — the fawn’s nose was an inch away from the corn scattered over your palm, its little nose twitching as it sniffed. “Hello,” you said, even quieter than before.

The wet nose brushed over your skin, and then the fawn nibbled at the corn, its teeth scraping against your palm; a ticklish sensation you don’t think you could ever describe. You lifted the camera from your chest and snapped a few photos, unable to stop the smile spreading over your lips as the fawn ate and ate, content as could be. “Oh, they’re beautiful.”

“Aren’t they?” Bucky said happily.

While you were distracted with the fawn, there was the sound of crunching hoofbeats to your side, and suddenly, a very wet muzzle on your cheek. “Oh!”

The doe that Bucky was petting just a moment ago was staring at you curiously, her dark eyes somehow staring straight through you and deep into your soul — it was a piercing, assessing gaze, but you swallowed your fright and offered the hand that held the camera. “Hi, there,” you said.

“Quick, take a shot,” Bucky rushed, his voice a hushed whisper. “Before she gets bored.”

“Alright,” you said, dubiously believing that she would stay still. The camera shook in your hand, and you took a deep breath, steadying your nerves at being so close to a docile, but wild creature. “Smile for me, love.”

To your utter disbelief, the doe sniffed at the camera and stayed as still as a statue while you took shot, after shot, after shot. Her eyes twinkled from the Christmas lights over the cabin, and the contrast to the black of her eyes was striking — nature’s beauty melded with the wonders of man.

“Beautiful—absolutely beautiful,” you breathed, lowering the camera.

Bucky grinned and moved to stand next to you. The deer appeared to have their fill of interaction, and they turned to leave, their pace as relaxed as could be — quite the difference to the leaps and bounds of the herds you passed while driving your truck by them on the roads.

“That was amazing.”

Bucky looked at you, then turned his attention back to the retreating herd. “It was, and I got to experience it with my girl.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #rookthorne's works

149 notes · View notes

mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 5 months

Text

Summary: Thor's magic wreaks havoc on Steve's memory and your relationship!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger/Powered!reader

Word Count: 2,660

Warnings: mostly fluff, mild angst, memory loss, mistletoe!

A/N: @buckys-wintersoldier thanks for listening to me complain about this all day!

It had been an accident, but you were convinced that the innocent mistake was going to ruin your Christmas, and possibly the rest of your life. Thor had dropped by the compound to flex his muscles and herd some escaped convicts from Agsard who had sought refuge in midgard. Steve, Tony and Bucky had offered to help, letting the rest of the Avengers and you continue to work on your own tasks and pick up the slack. They made it back home without a scratch, but Thor’s exuberance and bluster lead to a small bolt of lightning breaking off from Mjölnir’s strike, hitting Steve unexpectedly in the face. He hadn’t even had time to grab his shield from Bucky’s arm during the commotion.

Steve woke up flat on his back with you, Bucky and Thor leaning over him worriedly. You stroked his face gently as his eyes fluttered open, a wave of relief washing over you. It would definitely take more than a single bolt of lightning to defeat Captain America!

Steve groaned and looked around, his vision adjusting slowly to his surroundings. “What happened?”

He caught sight of Bucky on his left. “Buck?”

“Hey bud, how you feeling?” Bucky asked him gently.

“Like someone punched me in the face.” He scrunched his eyes shut and shook his head from side to side to clear the fog from his brain.

“Steve?” You put a hand on his chest.

Steve sat up, looking at you with intrigue. “Sorry, ma’am. I hope I didn’t startle you.”

“Ma’am?” you asked, surprised by the way he spoke to you.

“Did you call an ambulance, Bucky?” Steve asked.

Bucky frowned at Steve’s reaction. “No, pal. Y/N always like to dress like that!” He smirked at you.

“Do you two know each other?” he asked before looking straight ahead of him and seeing Thor in his full armor. His jaw dropped to the floor unceremoniously. “Bucky, what’s going on? Where are we?”

“Steve, it’s okay, we’re home. We’re just outside the compound.”

“Home?” Steve asked again, looking around and not recognizing his surroundings. He looked around feeling like he was in a foreign land. This confusion was giving way to panic as he laid his eyes on the magnificent, glass-paned, Stark-designed building looming on the horizon. “Who are you people?”

“Steve, it’s me. Y/N.” You took one of his hands gently between both of yours.

It crushed your heart when he pulled it away slowly. “I- I’m sorry. Have we met?”

“You don't know who I am?” you asked with a slight tremble to your lip.

“I'm sorry, ma'am.”

“Steve,” Bucky put his vibranium hand on his best friend's shoulder, making Steve recoil slightly as the hard metal made contact with his shoulder.

You saw the look of hurt that flickered across Bucky's face.

“What is that?” he asked, finally taking in Bucky's appearance, his long hair, bearded face and prosthetic arm. “What happened to you, Buck? And… are you shorter than me?”

Steve looked down at himself, finally understanding that he was the one who was different.

“Steve, what do you think the date is?” Bucky asked and you knew he was thinking the same thing as you.

“August 19th. But I'm guessing it's not because it's snowing out here.”

“And the year?” you whispered, hoping he wouldn't confirm your fears.

“1942.”

There was a collective sigh of disappointment as everyone around you reacted to his words. Steve's memories only extended as far as the war, after Bucky had been drafted but before he had received his orders. His memories of the serum and Captain America had gone, including his memory of you.

“Steve, we should get you back inside. Figure out what's going on with you.”

“I feel fine, thank you.”

“Bud, we should get you to the med bay. You got hit pretty hard and you seem to have forgotten a lot of things,” Bucky intervened, knowing that Steve wouldn't necessarily take advice from a stranger. He put his flesh hand on Steve's shoulder this time and led him away. Steve followed without so much of a backward glance at you.

“Sorry kid, that was rough.” Tony's shoulder rubbed against yours. “Don't worry, I'm sure we'll figure out how to get his memories back. Come on!” He beckoned to you before flying back to the compound with only the lower half of his suit engaged.

Begrudgingly, you forced your feet to follow your friends back inside. You made your way to the infirmary and stood behind a glass screen watching Steve speaking to Bruce, your fingers subconsciously fiddling with a metal band on your left hand. It should be you standing there taking care of the love of your life, tending his needs. But instead you were hiding while all your friends surrounded him in an effort to jog his memory.

Over the next week in the lead up to Christmas, you went about your usual tasks and preparations for the holiday but it just didn't feel the same without Steve by your side. You missed how he would hover over you as you cooked or held your hand as you walked, you missed your morning runs and how he would push you to beat your own times, making you run further, faster and longer than you'd ever done before. He inspired you, he encouraged you, he loved you.

Now you felt lost without him. Despite his physical proximity, you could no longer feel the emotional intimacy you'd built. Every time you saw him, he was accompanied by a member of the team but he mostly sought the company of Bucky, feeling far more comfortable with him than anyone else. Surprisingly they had all respected your request to approach Steve on your own terms. You had explained that it was so that you didn't overwhelm him with information, but in reality you were afraid, terrified in fact that he might reject you.

What you hadn't noticed was how Steve's eyes were constantly on you when you were in a room together. It often made Bucky chuckle and roll his eyes but true to his word, he kept his mouth shut. In fact, Bucky had become a better friend to you in the last week than he ever had been before. He had started running with you in the morning so you wouldn't be out alone. And despite telling him you didn't need a babysitter, he insisted that Steve would never forgive him if anything happened to his best girl. You loved Bucky for his loyalty.

“Don't worry, you'll get him back,” he reassured you with a gentle nudge of his elbow.

“I hope so, Buck, I really do.”

It was Christmas Eve and you were feeling a little overwhelmed by the feelings of loss you'd been pushing away until now. You decided to slip away from the compound to avoid the pitying glances and worried questions from your closest friends. Grabbing your headphones, a waterproof jacket and your running shoes, you escaped to the solitude of the lake within the grounds of the compound.

You used your powers to push yourself, let out your emotions. A disney playlist was pounding against your ears and as you reached the edge of the frozen lake Let it Go started playing. Lost in a world of your own, you started singing along to the music, using your powers to swirl snow around you in an attempt to imitate Elsa’s theatrics from the movie. Unbeknownst to you, you had an audience. Steve and Bucky had also a similar idea of getting in a run and Bucky, who had seen you leave, had steered his friend in your direction.

They watched from a distance as you danced and sang out your emotions. Steve stood enraptured with wonder at your display, his jaw hung loosely until Bucky gently closed it for him.

“Go talk to her,” he smiled knowingly.

“What am I supposed to say, Buck? She already knows me.”

“Trust me, pal, that’s a good thing. Just go and be yourself.” Bucky shoved his best friend in your direction.

The momentum from Bucky’s gentle push got Steve walking over to you, his footsteps crunching in the snow. He was surprised that you didn’t hear his footfalls but the music pounding in your ears had you lost to the world. That was until-

You reacted blindly to the hand on your shoulder, grabbing Steve’s hand and using your powers to flip him over onto his back on the dock.

“Steve!” you shrieked. “Oh my gosh, are you alright?”

Steve chuckled. He was surprised not only by your reaction, but the fact that he wasn’t winded by the force with which you’d slammed him to the ground.

“What have I told you about all the sneaking?” you pulled him up into a seated position.

“I don't remember,” Steve shrugged, trying to smile innocently as you sat down beside him and hung your feet off the dock.

A sudden laugh burst from your lips and in that moment Steve vowed that he would spend the rest of his life getting you to do it every single day. Unfortunately, your laugh ended with a sigh.

“I didn't mean to startle you,” he apologized.

“It's okay, I'm just worried about your safety!”

“I think I'm safe. My body is different from what I remember.”

“How does it feel?” you asked curiously. You'd asked Steve about his transformation before, but Steve had always brushed it off, that it had been his duty to change. Perhaps now you'd get a more truthful answer.

“Different… liberating.” He smiled at you shyly. “I used to have to worry about the cold weather, I couldn't run without the threat of dying. My reflexes aren't too shabby either.”

“It must be pretty overwhelming, all these changes.” You didn't just mean his physical changes.

“Yeah, it's not been easy,” he shuffled uncomfortably beside you. “Finding out that I did this to myself to fight in the war, that Bucky suffered so much,” Steve sighed, he always blamed himself for Bucky's experiences, that hadn't changed. “And don't get me started on the twenty-first century!”

“That one's a doozy, huh?” You nudged his shoulder with yours.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Why haven't you tried to help me remember my past?”

“I didn't want you to feel pressured to remember. It's been a lot for you.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that. At least Christmas doesn't seem so different. Do you have anyone special to spend it with?” He nodded at the diamond studded ring on your finger.

He had noticed. Naturally he had, your Steve was a very observant man. You wondered if there was a chance of rekindling the romance between you, even if he didn't regain his memories. The thought saddened you. You'd built a strong foundation through your shared memories and experiences, it almost seemed unfair for you to have that advantage. But here he was, the head strong, stubborn and scrappy man you loved. He was no different to the man you'd grown to love even if he didn't know it.

Steve presented himself to the world as Captain America, someone who gave off an air of confidence and calm, but to you, he was Steve Rogers, a scrawny kid from Brooklyn who never backed away from a fight.

“Yeah, I do. I'm hoping he gets back home in time for the holiday.”

Steve sighed. He was surprised that Bucky had encouraged him to pursue a woman who was already taken.

“But I wouldn't mind your company till he comes home.” You batted your eyelids and spoke slightly flirtatiously, wondering if he would notice.

“I know that it's not really my business, but I was wondering if you could tell me about your fiancé.”

Wow, Steve was a bit of a sucker for punishment. Maybe he liked you more than you thought.

“He's kind and smart. He’s brave… strong. But the thing I admire the most about him is how determined he is to do the right thing. He puts everyone before himself, so I consider it my duty to make sure someone’s around to take care of him. Plus he’s incredibly handsome, so that doesn't hurt.”

Steve laughed, mesmerized by you but he could feel a sinking feeling inside him. Of course you wouldn't be interested in him.

“Oh and he has this really cool superhero name. It's Captain America!” You winked at him with a smirk playing on your lips.

“But-”

You watched Steve's face as the penny finally dropped.

“Why didn't you say anything?” he asked.

“I thought it would be a bit too much information. Don't you think?” You paused, before adding. “And to be honest, I was a little scared.”

It took a few moments for you to get the courage to look up into Steve's face, hoping he wasn't completely repulsed by your admission.

“No one else here has mentioned that you… we were engaged.”

“They don't know. We were going to tell them but then this happened and well-” you shrugged. “Plus, you weren't planning to propose until Christmas Day, but someone-” you prodded him in the side. “Someone got a little impatient.”

Steve blushed. “Well how could anyone wait to be married to someone as beautiful as you.”

It was your turn to blush. Which was followed by a shiver, your body trembled a little as a cold wind picked up around you. Chivalrous to a fault, Steve took off his own jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Why don't we go back inside?”

“Yeah,” you puffed out the word along with a small cloud of mist. “It feels like it's going to start snowing again.”

The two of you made your way back to the compound side by side in a comfortable silence. The backs of your hands brushing against each other but neither of you finding it in yourselves to reach out and take hold. Steve opened the door and held it open for you to enter first.

As soon as you both entered the threshold and shut out the cold, you looked up at Steve, smiling at the pink tinge on his cheeks and the sweet smile on his lips. You longed to feel his arms wrapped around you. Just as you were able to tear yourself away, Steve grabbed your wrist.

You turned back to him and noticed that he was pointing up at something. You followed the direction of his finger and a smile broke out on your face. Someone had tied a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling.

“Is that-?”

“Yeah.” He answered your unasked question.

“I guess that means I owe you a kiss.”

“Far be it from me to break age old traditions. We wouldn't want to risk bad luck, would we?”

You moved back to face Steve, but he seemed to have lost that courage to move further. “I- this isn't something I've done before.”

“That's alright. I think we'll manage just fine.”

A warmth blossomed in Steve’s chest, sparks igniting as you leaned in close, lips brushing together, tentatively, for the first time. The smell of your strawberry scented conditioner made Steve dizzy with anticipation, butterflies dancing in his stomach.

Your warmth consumed him as you leaned up into the kiss, Steve’s lips impossibly soft against your own. The kiss was soft at first, chaste and innocent. His warm lips were soft and parted slightly giving permission for your tongue to enter his mouth. His nose nudged yours gently as you moaned quietly. Oh how you had missed him!

As he opened his eyes, he looked down at you as though he was seeing you for the first time. Every time Steve had imagined magic, this is exactly how he had pictured it. He knew everything about you, how could he have ever forgotten you?

“Y/N,” he said softly. “I made it home for Christmas.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fan fiction #bucky barnes #tony stark #thor

239 notes · View notes

wntrs0ldier · 5 months

Text

AN OFFER II · 03

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3k warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, mature themes, dark themes, language, fluff, boyd holbrook as clint barton.

“You like that girl, huh?” “I've already told you as much as you should know,” he stated with no hesitation, his eyes still locked on you. But Sam knew more, much more. He wasn't blind. Or clueless.

series masterlist

The heat of the evening clung to your body even before you slammed the car door behind you, making you immediately miss the air conditioned interior you hadn't had time to fully enjoy. You blamed the insufficiently long distance between your gallery and the suburbs where Steve's house was located, and the fact that you had to make a solid effort in the back seats, changing your office clothes for the light summer dress that Bucky had supposedly prepared for you – Parker had delivered such a message to you along with the dress when he came to pick you up for work.

You headed to the garden at the back of the house, where numerous conversations were coming from, merging into one incomprehensible gibberish of dozens of voices, and the smell of smoke hung in the air.

Having spotted Steve walking towards you, you put on a wide grin.

“Happy birthday.” You tied your arms around his neck, and Steve rubbed your back.

“Thanks,” he laughed quietly.

You pulled away and handed him a bottle of wine. “And this is for you.”

“Bucky’s already given me the gift from both of you," he assured with a slightly dim smile. Steve was doing his best to show his gratitude, but you could well see how uncomfortable he was. If it was up to him, the party would have had nothing to do with his birthday – fireworks and a few loved ones would have been enough.

“Yeah, I know…” You scratched your neck. “But I didn't want to come with empty hands.”

“Alright.” Steve's smile took on a bit lighter expression. “Come on,” he said, nodding encouragingly. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Oh, I'd love to,” you huffed with relief.

It was even hotter by the grill. Steve flipped a couple of sizzling steaks over, then reached into the coolbox, filled with melted ice and beers bathed in it, and handed you a wet bottle – pleasantly cold in your hand. It hissed as he opened it for you, and specks of drink fell barely perceptible on your skin. With the drink brought to your lips, you looked around; you didn't expect to find anything in particular, but your eyes instinctively landed on a familiar figure.

Holding his own beer in a loose grip, Bucky was talking to some woman. At least that's what it seemed to you at first; it soon became apparent that he was actively listening to her, and fighting with himself not to look bored.

His hair, tied back in a bun, exposed his face – slightly weary eyes, flushed cheeks and wet, shiny lips. Your own stretched in a warm smile as you watched the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on, remembering that he had once asked you to call him yours. And so he was yours.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Clint approaching. “Howdy, Y/N,” he spoke in a voice so not concise that you were able to judge how much alcohol, more or less, he had managed to take in. Enough to embrace you casually, draw you closer and place a juicy kiss on your cheek, his lips wet and sticky. On the other hand, as a matter of fact, Barton did not need alcohol to behave like this. “It's not nice to be late, don’t you think?”

“Hi, Clint,” you replied when you finally had the chance to do so. You carefully moved him away from you – you didn't mind that he was stuck to you, but you had to get rid of the additional source of heat as soon as possible. Nevertheless, Clint's arm remained glued to your shoulders. “I wasn't late,” you stated lightly. “I was here all the time. You just didn't see me.” You raised your eyebrows with conviction.

Clint furrowed his forehead. “No…” he said doubtfully. “That's not true…”

“No?” you dug deeper, driving Clint further into confusion.

“Clint,” you heard. The exact moment of Bucky's appearance escaped you, but given the length of the conversation you had with Barton, he had just approached the two of you. “Stop fucking harassing my wife.”

“I'm not harassing your wife,” he protested, taking his arm away. “And I don't know what she's doing, but she's terrorizing me.”

Bucky, unfazed, watched Clint in silence.

“Okay, okay…” Clint muttered, leaving.

You watched him for a moment, until you brought your gaze back to Bucky – you caught his eyes bore into you uninterrupted, and the corners of your mouth lifted involuntarily, mirroring his gentle, somewhat enigmatic smirk.

“Could you heat up something for her?” Bucky turned to Steve, who nodded in response. “Thanks.” He patted his shoulder, then reached out a hand to you, which you accepted without hesitation. He pulled you carefully toward a long, set table that, with a few stains and general disorder, gave away what stage the party was at. “I saved you a seat,” Bucky said, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. A gentle smile sneaked onto your lips again. The fact that he had done something seemingly insignificant with you in mind was all it took. “You look nice,” he added, pulling the chair out for you.

“You think?” You raised an eyebrow, and Bucky laughed softly. He put down the bottle he had been holding, took a seat next to you and threw his arm over the back of your chair. “Did you pick the first dress you got your hands on, or did you actually go through my entire closet?”

“I liked the flowers.” He shrugged subtly, his eyes briefly tracing the tiny pattern adorning the dress. “I thought you'd want to change into something more comfortable. And something more airy, because it's fucking hot,” he continued. “And, well…” he murmured, lifting his eyebrows. “It shouldn't be worn with a bra, because of-” He pointed at his own shoulders, but was hinting at yours, bare and uncovered. “So, it's actually a gift. From me. To me.”

You snorted, then shook your head disapprovingly. “You really know about these things, huh?”

“Your knees gone weak yet?”

“Almost.” You demonstratively waved your hand before your face. “You're on the right track, that's for sure.”

The party was going on at its own lazy pace.

With the excuse of needing to use the toilet, you left the table – where Steve, Sam and Clint had joined you in the meantime – and went inside the house to the empty, peaceful kitchen. You provided yourself with a glass and filled it with cool water – a pleasant change to the beer you had previously consumed.

To your surprise, Bucky also showed up in the kitchen. He peeked into the room, and having noticed you standing by one of the counters, he stepped inside. His arms crossed on his chest, he watched you without saying a word.

“Hmm?” you murmured, your lips hugging the rim of the glass. You moved it away from your mouth, and, thinking nothing of it, pressed it to your neck. For a brief moment, Bucky's eyes jumped to the cold, foggy glass resting against your warm skin. He quickly regained the concentration with which he had come.

“You alright?” He grunted, his mouth set in a hard line.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Why..?”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t know. But what I do know,” his eyebrows rose, “is that you’re hiding here. What are you hiding from, Y/N?” He took a step closer. “From me..?”

You tilted your head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

His intense stare was burning a hole in you when he looked at you like that – interested in your reactions, your behavior, your feelings, it was studying every inch, every muscle, every twitch; his eyes were wandering all over your face and body, searching for honest answers, the reasons behind your decision. “Am I wrong?”

After taking another sip, you put your glass down. “Don’t do that, Jamie. Because I see what you’re doing, you’re trying to crush me.” You folded your arms. “Don’t treat me like the people you do business with.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, a corner of his mouth lifted, forming a proud smirk. “Smart girl,” he hummed. “But I will do that, since you won’t talk to me.”

A heavy sigh escaped your mouth. “I just-” you hesitated. “I needed a little break.”

He got even closer, his hips pinning yours down to the counter. You gasped quietly, feeling a hot blush spreading all over your cheeks.

“Listen, baby,” Bucky started, his voice low. He licked his bottom lip, then drew it between his teeth, leering at you. “If I have to talk to you, you have to talk to me. Gotta know everything that's going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Your mouth went dry, so you swallowed hard. “And w-what if you hear something you won't like?”

Bucky sized you up. “Don't get too curious.”

After sunset, the garden was illuminated by lights positioned low on the lawn, and there was no trace of the heavy stickiness in the air from a few hours before.

For a short moment, you disappeared from Bucky's radar, but it only took him a few glances – a couple of casual looks around – to bring you back into his field of vision. He found you among clearly excited women, grinning from ear to ear – mistresses, girlfriends, fiancés and wives of other gangsters. They swarmed around you, forming a delighted ring, chirping solely about those topics that concerned your new role.

"Show us the ring. Oh, it's beautiful."

"How was the wedding? No one was invited."

"We were losing hope that Bucky would ever settle down."

"Where did you spend your honeymoon?"

"How did you spend your honeymoon?"

The division between these several groups – mistresses, girlfriends, fiancés and wives – was clear but not striking. Wives always stood at the top of the hierarchy, being a little calmer and more toned down. Fiancés, on the other hand, radiated the strongest enthusiasm – unlike girlfriends, they felt much more secure in their position, and, like wives used to be, were still hopeful and optimistic about the future.

"You know, don't worry if he gets a mistress. It's a bit shocking at first, but mistresses are only there to please them. Nothing more than that."

"Exactly, they just need fresh meat.”

"Especially after children come along. Then it's even better for you. You won't have the energy or appetite anyway."

"It doesn't have to be that way. Stop scaring her."

"It doesn't have to be that way, but it's always better to be prepared for it."

"Someone like Bucky Barnes definitely needs a lot of attention. He has a lot on his plate. And you'll have to take care of the house, the kids and your husband? Oh, and I hear that you have a job?"

"But you will have your children. Children are great."

"Unless they grow up. Teenagers are-"

"Last time, I couldn't leave Mason in the daycare. There was an outbreak of stomach flu."

"Oh, poor thing."

Bucky, watching you standing in the center of that crossfire, saw you shrinking more and more. For a short while, it seemed to him that there were some advantages to this whole situation; that you were socializing with the people from his environment. But he finally realized that you were actually uncomfortable – he concluded this especially after you emptied an entire glass of unspecified liquid in one gulp. From the grimace on your face, he figured it surely contained percentages.

But perhaps it had to be that way – perhaps you had to learn the hard way that it was in Bucky's company that you felt safest.

With a hand shoved in his pocket, and the other embracing his beer, Sam stood next to Bucky. “What are you doing?” he asked; after all, Bucky was standing by himself, staring at a group of women.

“Looking.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But why?”

Bucky shrugged. “I like looking at her.”

Sam’s forehead creased as he once again glanced at the women. Only then did he understand who was the target of their attention. He smiled to himself and shook his head. “You like that girl, huh?”

“I've already told you as much as you should know,” he stated with no hesitation, his eyes still locked on you.

But Sam knew more, much more. He wasn't blind. Or clueless. “Okay, okay…”

“Alright. I'm going to rescue her,” Bucky said, lifting his cup to his mouth. “Before they eat her alive.” He left the empty cup on the table he had been leaning against and walked in the direction of the group. They went quiet as he approached, then burst out again with excitement, welcoming him.

Bucky caught the look of relief and gratitude on your face. He put his arm around your waist and rubbed your lower back affectionately. You rested your hand on his torso and continued listening to the questions and delights flying around in the air. Bucky didn't want to be rude, so he didn't pull you away from there right away. However, when he was right next to you, you felt a surge of new strength that allowed you to bear it all for a little longer than you thought.

A few big grins and forced laughs later, Bucky finally escorted you out of the group. The two of you stayed attached to each other as he led you slowly in some unspecified direction – as far away as possible from the force that sucked you in, chewed you up and spat you out.

“Are you okay?” Bucky chuckled softly, caressing your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you replied immediately, but somewhat barely conscious.

“Wanna go home?”

“Oh yes, please.”

As you stopped at the entrance to the bedroom, Bucky lifted his eyes from his book and bore them into you – your hair was still slightly damp from the shower, and only the thin fabric of a short nightgown separated him from a direct view of one of his favorite things on Earth – your naked body. Thinking very little, or rather, thinking about nothing but one thing, he closed the book and put it down on the bedside table.

“What's with the face? What’s wrong?” he asked.

You climbed onto the mattress and sat on your bent knees, resting your hands on your thighs. Bucky reached for one of them; he grabbed it loosely and stroked your knuckles. He looked at you, waiting, but with the same patience he had always had for you.

“I'm just wondering," you began hesitantly, clenching your fingers on his in a nervous impulse, “if you're planning on having a mistress. Or... mistresses,” you added barely audibly; your voice failed you as soon as your mind realized what was actually coming out of your mouth.

Bucky’s brows drew together. He slowly sat up, bringing himself closer to you. The thought of him downplaying the problem, dodging the subject or laughing in your face made your muscles tense.

“Well-” he began, his forehead slightly furrowed. He didn't speak for just a second, but that much was fully enough for you to process the hundreds of ways he would give you an affirmative answer. Of course I am, but it’s for the best, or Baby, you didn’t really think I would be faithful, right? Or One girl is just not enough. “It happens,” Bucky said carefully. “And it is considered completely normal with the life we lead-”

You nodded hurriedly. “Yes, I realize that.” You knew it; after all, you came from the same environment. Did your father happen to cheat on your mother? You remembered that your uncles, who were not really your uncles, happened to show up with newer and newer aunts. “But I'm not asking how it works. I'm asking about you.”

“I'm not planning on having a side chick,” despite the fact that this time he didn't even think for a second, he sounded calm. “Not, since I already have the most gorgeous girl I could come across,” his tone and blank expression proved that he was not trying to sugarcoat or pull the wool over your eyes; he was just honest.

You lowered your gaze to your hands, to the inside of one, where a now faded scar was drawn – the same as in Bucky's hand.

“You are saying that because we are in the honeymoon phase and the sex is still good,” you stated. “But what about later? I'll have to take care of the house, the kids, my job. I won't have the energy to give you the attention, and you will eventually need some fresh meat-” you babbled, forgetting to breathe. You closed your eyes and hid your face in your hands, coming to the conclusion that you had let them mess with your mind. You even used the same words as them.

Bucky gently wrapped his fingers around your wrists and pulled them away from your face, then cupped it and made you look at him. Stroking your cheeks tenderly with his thumbs, he watched you with a hardly visible but soft smile – a smile full of understanding. “If,” he emphasized, “you'd like to take care of the house and... everything else, but couldn't handle something, we can hire a housekeeper, a nanny or a fucking assistant, alright? As for the sex…” A crooked smile crept onto his lips. “I would rather not involve any outsiders, hmm?”

A peace of mind you didn't expect to experience with this particular issue washed over you. You were blown away by Bucky’s ability to bring you that much calmness. And perhaps you were naive, but you believed him – you trusted that he would never hurt you in this way.

You nodded, the corners of your mouth turned up shyly.

“Attagirl,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your forehead. “If there’s something that scares or upsets you, tell me about it. And we'll figure it out,” he added, his lips still on your skin. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hair.

You tilted your head back a little so that you could look at his face. Again, he stroked your cheeks with his hands, as if correcting their placement, and gave you another gentle smile. Then, without a second thought, you climbed onto his thighs, and, hugging his neck, clung tightly to his body. Having closed his arms around you, Bucky pressed you to his chest and started caressing your back. Feeling his touch, his warmth, the beating of his heart, you melted.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz @loustan90 @kandis-mom @abaker74 @gabshouse @casa-boiardi @globetrotter28 @fand0mskullfa1ry @iateall-yourcookies @swordofawriter @theroyalmanatee @midnightvitality @thebuckybarnesvault @milanaasblog @itsmytimetoodream @talesofadragon @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @bbiaa420 @funkybarnes @sebastians-love @walkingwithoutreason @hereticdance @abitofblues @purple-vegan @queenashen @oqueano @yourdryadwife @lethallyprotected @abbyyourlocalmilf @sapphirebarnes

219 notes · View notes

the-wrong-providence · 1 year

Text

To Date a Criminal

Bucky Barnes X Celebrity!F!Reader

Word Count: 1,800ish

Summary: Bucky’s history is a problem to some of Y/N’s fans

Author’s note: This is more angsty than I originally intended, but life is a shitty mess so there’s no point sugar coating it lmao. Unedited. Didn’t know what to call it, so this is what I landed with.

"A-list celebrity Y/N Y/L/N is speculated to be romantically involved with ex-assassin James Barnes, the Winter Soldier. A lot of people believe that Barnes should be convicted of the numerous murders that he committed over the course of the Cold War, but Y/L/N seems to have no issue flaunting her criminal boyfriend on every platform she has a voice. The 108-year-old man was once a close friend to Capt-" Sam turned the TV off. Bucky stared at the blank screen for a little longer, before swallowing heavily and looking down. Sam wanted to say something but struggled to find the words.

Bucky sighed. "This is fucked," he said after a moment. He appeared to be fairly calm about it, before he slammed his fist down on the table, leaving a small dent in the wood. "What the fuck?" He shouted out, as Sam crossed his arms.

"Buck, you know better than to listen to that shit," he said. Bucky turned to him, shaking his head.

"It's not about me listening to them." He started. "Y/N is being attacked. Even if she doesn't agree, her entire reputation is at stake, for dating me. They're calling me a murderer for fucks sake." Bucky ran his hand through his hair. Sam sighed. Of course, he didn't care what people thought about him. He'd been receiving death threats and insults daily since returning from Wakanda, he was used to it. "She has every reason to leave me. She'd be an idiot not to." He mumbled, turning away from Sam.

Sam sighed. He couldn’t argue with that. But something he’d come to realise is that both Bucky and Y/N were complete dumbasses when together. “Just, talk to her, man,” He replied, leaving Bucky to stew by himself.

He sipped his drink slowly, hearing the door slam close and a loud sigh. “You wouldn’t believe the shit I’ve had to deal with today,” She said, throwing her coat onto the back of a dining chair. She bent over the sofa and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “The guy who was interviewing us made some sexist comments before we even began, so we just knew it was going to be a long session,” She kicked off her shoes and sat on the sofa beside him. “It was really tempting to just walk out on multiple occasions, but apparently I needed a better reason,”

Bucky grinned quickly, before placing his glass on the coffee table. "Baby, we need to talk," He began. Y/N looked at him and her eyes narrowed in confusion. She couldn’t read his expression at all. Her face fell when she realised that his smile had disappeared.

"What about?" She asked cautiously. Her heart sped up.

Bucky took a deep breath. "You need to break up with me," he said.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at him. Everything was going well. She really liked Bucky and she thought he felt the same for her. "I don't understand. I don't want to." She said.

"And I don't want to either. But people are calling me a murderer." Bucky looked at her finally, and she could see the sadness in his eyes. She let out a deep exhale, relieved that she’d not done anything to upset him.

It took her a moment to think her way around his comment. "But you're not a murderer, and I don’t care what people say," She replied, crossing her arms across her chest.

Bucky smiled softly. Y/N was brazen, just one of the many things he liked about her. “Sweetheart,” He started, “I’m not worth ending your career over,”

She bit the inside of her cheek and turned away. Whilst she held the belief that he very much was worth it, she didn’t want to admit that now. Not if things were going to end. “Do you want this to end?” She asked. He was fairly insistent.

Bucky seemed taken aback. “No, god no, you have no idea how much I don’t want this to happen. But you have to do the smart thing here. You can’t stay with me,”

“I don’t care. I’m not ending this.” She said indignantly.

Bucky rubbed his forehead. Fuck, he loved her stubbornness sometimes, but it was not helping right now. “Your reputation-”

“I’m not worried about my stupid reputation! I couldn’t give less of a shit about it!” She shouted back and Bucky stared at her. She exhaled heavily and furrowed her eyebrows. “The only thing I’m worried about is you, Buck,”

Bucky clenched his jaw and turned away. “Well, that’s really not convenient. Because I worry about you and the way people treat you and the way everyone sees you. And you not giving a shit about that sort of thing really makes my job a lot harder,” He replied, and Y/N smiled.

She pulled his face back in her direction, and her hand fell to rest on his chest. Pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’d leave everything behind to stop you from worrying,” She admitted and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“You’re crazy if you think I’d let you,” He raised his eyebrows, but grinned, all the same, leaning in to kiss her again.

She pouted at him. “I’m starting to think that you want me to be famous more than I care for it,” She joked.

“Not famous. Successful. I want you to do well, and I like seeing you get the recognition you deserve. I need people to love you as much as I… love you,” He paused at the last words, and looked down, hoping she didn’t notice.

But of course, she did. She’d been waiting to hear those words for weeks now. She stared at him, noticing the slight pink tinge that was creeping up his neck. “Buck,” She began. “I love you too,”

He looked up at her, searching for any hint of a lie. It had been a while since someone had said those words to him and meant it. As if she could tell, she took hold of his wrist and directed his hand to feel her heartbeat. “I love you,” She said again, smiling at him.

“And if you still think we should break up, then you’re the crazy one. Especially after that super romantic admission of your love for me,” she stated, grinning at him as his cheeks tinged pink. He looked down, but his small smile was very much evident.

He sighed. “You’re right. As much as I hate to admit it,” He said back, as Y/N giggled. She kissed him again, and Bucky’s hand moved to hold her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “I love you,” He murmured in the space between them, their foreheads resting against each other.

One of the downsides of being a celebrity was having to maintain a social presence. As a result, Y/N had to attend several red carpets that she had no real investment in. This particular time, Y/N was being interviewed by someone from some media outlet that she was unfamiliar with. The questions had strayed from anything remotely related to the public perception of her boyfriend.

“Bucky is not a murderer,” Y/N scowled at the person interviewing her. Her dating life was noones business at the best of times, but it was entirely inappropriate to discuss this right now.

The interviewer smirked at the rise they were getting. “He was one of the worlds most wanted criminals. He’s credited with at least two dozen high-target assassinations. He’s responsible for the Avengers breaking up back in 2016…”

Y/N stared daggers at the interviewer, and their face fell as they noticed. They stopped talking and swallowed heavily. “Bucky is not a murderer. He was given a pardon which has forgiven him-”

“Implying that there was something to forgive.” The interviewer interrupted “Why do you think it’s ok to date a war criminal?” They added.

Y/N lips parted in surprise. “You know what? I don’t have to deal with this. If people have a problem with who I love then that’s their issue. I do not have to listen to you insult my partner.” She snapped back, before storming off to the bathroom.

On her way there, a hand took hold of her wrist and pulled her away. Looking up, she saw Bucky beaming at her. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” He held his arms around her waist. His face fell when he saw her look in her eyes. “What’s happened? Are you ok?” his first instinct was to check her over for any injuries.

Instantly she let her tears fall and leant against him. “Why do people have to be assholes?” She bawled out. Bucky hugged her back, resting his chin on the top of her head. He held her tight, letting her cry into his chest.

“What did they say?” He growled, angry that anyone would have the gall to insult his girl. He looked around to determine whos fault it was. If anyone seemed even remotely guilty for the upset that they’d caused, but everyone seemed fairly content with themselves.

She sniffed quietly. “They were being so rude about you! I had to leave the interview,” She replied, and Bucky seemed taken aback. They’d insulted him and she was distraught.

He held her at arms length and looked at her, lowering his head so that she was staring directly into his eyes. “There are always gonna be assholes in the world, but you walking away from them in that situation helps people realise. You are so incredibly brave for walking outside your door every day when you know what people have said about me. And for that I love you. I worship the ground you walk on. I’m honored to have a place in your heart.” He said sincerely, desperate to calm her down.

“But you have to promise me that you will not give these people a place. Please don’t let them hurt you. Don’t take these shots that are meant for me,” He added, caressing her cheek with his knuckles.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows for a moment, but seemed to smile. “Buck, I would take actual bullets for you,” She said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Bucky chuckled. “Very unwise. Bullets hurt like hell. And you’d be taking a lot of them,” He bantered back. “But I appreciate the sentiment. I love you sweetheart,” He smiled.

Y/N exhaled heavily, smiling back. “I love you too,” she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Do you wanna come with me?”

He looked at her, confused as to what she meant. “Back onto the carpet? What about the interviews?”

She grinned. “Maybe you can do some staring if they piss me off.” She giggled.

Immediately he seemed excited. “Oh sweetheart, don’t tempt me!”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #angst #marvel #oneshot

1K notes · View notes