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buckybabesonly · 1 year

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I Wanna Be Yours

Summary: You are afraid to believe that someone like Bucky might actually love you back.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Shy!Insecure!Reader

Genre: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: Casual sex (?), misunderstandings, self-deprecation

A/N: I’m actually not very happy with how this turned out but I hope some of you might enjoy it anyway?

Word count: 4.8k

You had never fallen in love before until you met Bucky.

You had spent your whole life wondering when it would happen to you - when you would feel that heart-racing, mind-blowing, bliss-inducing love that you saw so often in movies and read in novels.

Falling for him had been unexpected, like you had been turning corners in an endless maze until suddenly - there he was. This unbelievably talented, unique, intelligent man who treated you with respect and kindness. He showed interest in you when you were too shy to approach him first, talking to you about the everyday mundane, making you feel special. Out of all the incredible people Bucky knew and interacted with, he made you feel like you counted, too.

You worked as a lab tech at the Avengers compound since landing the coveted job two years ago, working closely with Bruce Banner, and had witnessed first hand when Bucky joined the team. He had been quiet at first, introverted, but you watched as he blossomed like a flower. He revealed more of his great sense of humour, wicked smile and subtle charm which made you fall for him.

When you were around him, you felt like your nerve endings were on fire. Every touch from him on your arm, your shoulders, the small of your back, sent pulses shooting through your body and a flush of red straight to your cheeks. The power he had over you was undeniable, and you were certain he knew it, too.

The moment you realised you were in trouble was on a Saturday afternoon, four months after you first met him. He returned to the compound one day with a nasty gash on his forehead and blood crusting his hands, his eyes tired and face pale. The moment you saw him, you knew that if anything were to happen to him, you would have no idea how to cope. Even seeing him with relatively minor injuries made your chest clench in fear and anxiety.

Without a doubt, you had finally fallen in love.

Your first time with Bucky was unexpected. He was perched on one of the counters in your lab, snacking on a pack of cashews as he watched you peer into a microscope. You could barely focus on the work at hand, hyper aware of his presence and ocean blue eyes on your form.

“You’re not supposed to eat in here, you know,” you murmured, trying to hide your smile.

“I know,” he countered, continuing to chew obnoxiously.

You had been harbouring your secret feelings for him for over a year and a half. With every day that passed, you found it harder and harder to figure out what to do. Sometimes you felt that he reciprocated them - the constant flirting, the close touches, the excuses he made to spend time alone with one another. But you were too afraid to ask him outright how he felt about you, and too shy to make the first move.

“How’s your leg?” you asked, if only to distract yourself from your thoughts, referring to the injury he had received a few days ago.

“Much better. Strong as ever.” He kicked it out suddenly as to punctuate his words.

“Hey,” you exclaimed, alarmed. “I wish you would be more careful. Seems you’re always getting patched up lately.” You were frowning, and Bucky seemed amused at your concern.

“Occupational hazard.”

“Whatever. Just don’t bust open your stitches and bleed all over my lab. It’s just been sanitized.” You sniffed as Bucky cocked his head at you, flashing his adorable grin. “In fact I’m violating several health and safety rules just allowing you to be in here,” you said, trying to keep your face straight as Bucky threatened to tease a smile from you.

You turned back to the work at hand, working in comfortable silence as Bucky observed you. He soon seemed restless, however, and you looked up again when he jumped off his perch and walked over to you, bumping you with his shoulder. He smelled so good - like the forest after it had just rained. He looked down at you, giving you one of his trademark dimpled smiles yet again.

“What?”

“I’m bored,” he shrugged.

“Don’t you have top secret, dangerous mission stuff to do?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Your heart was beating fast as he leaned closer suddenly, eyes flickering from yours down to your mouth. He had been doing that a lot as of late.

“Rather do something else,” he said quietly, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

Time stood still. He suddenly closed the distance between you, and then you were kissing. His lips were soft, his hands gentle as they raised to cradle your face, sliding into your hair.

Your hands raised on their own accord to grab the edges of his leather jacket, pulling him closer, feeling surreal as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled away just long enough for you to ask breathlessly, “Is this actually happening?”

All he did was chuckle and pull you back against him again.

You were positively floating as Bucky grabbed your hand and led you to his private floor in the compound, into his bedroom. You thought you were dreaming when he lay you down softly on his bed, undressing you both because your hands were shaking.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, eyes searching your face as you nodded.

“Yes,” you said instantly. “It’s okay.”

That night, you had sex with him for the first time. He held you tightly as he thrust inside you, peppering your face with kisses, making you whimper with pleasure until you both reached the inevitable climax.

You felt you could die happy now as you fell asleep in Bucky’s arms, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

Insecurity was an ugly thing.

You woke up a couple of hours before Bucky, lying with your eyes wide open as the ink black sky slowly lightened, the sun bleeding across the horizon.

You looked at this man lying beside you - this perfect specimen, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept, his chiselled jawline, ruggedly handsome features. The reality of what had happened was slowly sinking in, bringing with it doubts and questions as to what this meant.

God, he was so beautiful. So perfect in literally every way. You were fully aware of his contrast to you.

You had never considered yourself a beautiful girl. You had always been very conscious of your flaws, the way your body didn’t look quite the way you wanted it to, the way you felt that no one really gave you a second look.

I’m bored, Bucky had said yesterday. Were you just a cure for his boredom?

You gnawed at your bottom lip, uncertainties flooding into your system as you recalled the conversation and events leading up to the steamy encounter yesterday. Had he pulled you tighter against him, or had you simply imagined it? Did he do this all the time, or were you an exception?

People had causal sex all the time. You knew that Natasha and Steve had fooled around before and continued as friends only, and a lot of the S.H.I.E.L.D agents you knew had been known to sleep around interdepartmentally, lending to some interesting work gossip.

You knew you were stupid to let yourself think something serious might be happening. You and Bucky hadn’t even spoken about feelings or been on anything which remotely resembled a date. Bucky had been a proper charmer back in the day, you were well aware.

Your heart plummeted as you continued to think. You were suddenly so relieved you hadn’t revealed your feelings for him last night in your stupor. You had been so happy to be held by him, to be kissed by him, but that’s all it was - just a bit of fun. It had to be.

You felt Bucky stir beside you eventually, and you clutched the covers close to your naked body as he opened his eyes and smiled at you lazily.

What was the proper etiquette? Were you supposed to leave as soon as possible?

“Morning,” he said huskily. He looked so adorable that the panic in your chest quelled momentarily.

“Morning,” you smiled.

He yawned, his dark hair unruly as he ran his fingers through it.

“What’s the time?”

You cleared your throat. “Just gone seven. I have an early meeting with Bruce.”

“Mmm. Okay. You have to go now?” He looked at you with what may have been disappointment.

“I should probably get going, yeah. Need to prepare,” you said, eyes scanning the room for your clothes as you blushed at the thought of dressing in front of Bucky, even though he had seen you in all your naked glory last night.

Bucky suddenly moved in close and kissed you, causing your breath to hitch. You felt self conscious about how worn out you probably looked first thing in the morning, but melted into his touch nonetheless.

"Are we going to do this again?" he managed to get out against your lips.

"If you like," you answered carefully.

"I would very much like."

“Me too,” you said shyly, pulling back from Bucky and ducking your head down.

"So you're okay with this?"

Your heart constricted then, wanting to shout loudly that no, it’s not okay, and you actually wanted a serious relationship. But how terrifying would that be to suddenly dump your confessions onto him when the poor man had no idea how you felt?

But you didn’t know what was worse. Just being friends with benefits, or actually confessing your true feelings and pushing him away completely.

“Sure,” you said finally, keeping your voice purposely light. “It’s just sex, Bucky. It’s okay.”

Bucky froze then, his expression unreadable as he stared at you. His eyebrows were slightly drawn together, his lips stiffening as he swallowed.

“What?” you asked carefully, feeling inexplicably nervous.

Bucky was silent for a beat before responding. “Nothing.” He gestured between you with his vibranium hand, frowning ever so slightly. “This is nothing. Right?”

He wanted affirmation. You felt shame flood your chest.

“Right,” you said weakly, turning away before Bucky could see the tears in your eyes. “I better get going.”

He didn’t say anything as you hurriedly pulled on your clothes and mumbled an imperceptible “Bye” before you let yourself out.

As it turned out, it didn’t happen again.

You had no idea what you had done or how you had messed it up, but you had.

You had never done this before. Never casually hopped into bed with a man without something greater at play. You had one ex-boyfriend from your college days who was sweet but you were never truly in love with, and sex with him had happened a few months into your relationship.

You didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to act around Bucky anymore. Didn’t know what he even wanted.

You thought he just wanted a fling. No strings attached. But after that day, somehow, the two of you were never alone again.

He gave you small, if a little curt, smiles now and again and sometimes spoke to you about work-related matters if necessary, but everything else had suddenly disappeared.

A monstrous, ugly feeling gnawed a hole in your chest, slowly over the next two weeks until it was a gaping cavern. Had you messed it up so badly that Bucky just wasn’t interested anymore? Or worse - had it been his objective all along to just get you into bed and then disappear?

No, he wasn’t like that, you decided, quickly dismissing the thought. The only logical conclusion, then, was that your performance had been so poor that he just didn’t want to be intimate again, but didn’t know how to tell you.

You felt so lost. This isn’t what you wanted, not really. You were never one for casual sex, and yet it killed you how Bucky was avoiding you now. You’d rather reduce yourself to his fuck buddy than nothing. That one night with him had been magical, had made you think about an entire lifetime of mornings waking up beside him.

Your misery was clear to see to all those around you, particularly Bruce, whom you had become very good friends with since you worked together in such close proximity.

“Are you okay?” he asked suddenly, exactly two weeks after your night with Bucky. You were prodding about with some equipment you were working on for Sam’s wings. “And don’t just say you are, because I can tell you’re not.”

You shrugged half heartedly. “I guess I’m not. But I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You might feel better,” Bruce said, approaching you with a sympathetic tilt of the head. “You know I don’t usually pry, but I’m kind of worried. I can tell you’re upset.”

“Not upset,” you lied quickly, meeting his eyes. “Just…I need to get out of my own head, maybe.”

Bruce studied your face carefully but didn’t delve any further. “Tell you what. Maybe you’ll feel better tonight at the party.”

You wanted to groan loudly. Tony’s annual charity gala. You had looked forward to it before, the prospect of dressing up and maybe getting a dance with Bucky, but you weren’t quite in the party mood anymore. Still, you decided to maintain as positive of a mindset as you could, returning Bruce’s smile and promising yourself that you’d try and have a good time.

You left work with a slightly reinvigorated mindset as you headed back to your apartment to get changed. Maybe tonight could be a chance to relight that spark with Bucky again - if not that way, then you at least wanted some assurance that you were still friends.

You tried your best to uplift your mood whilst you got ready. You changed into a silky blue dress, one which complimented Bucky’s eyes, you realised. Perhaps this had been in your subconscious the day you’d picked it out. It was a long number, quite form fitting with a modest slit up the leg. You tried hard with your makeup and jewellery, the idea of impressing Bucky at the forefront of your mind as you tried to steady your racing heart every time he popped into your head.

Observing yourself in the mirror, you smoothed down the sides of your dress and tried to practice your smile. You managed to leave your apartment in a much better, optimistic state as you hailed a cab to take you to the gala venue.

It was being held in a new building commissioned by Tony next to Central Park, extravagant enough to rival the Met. You walked into the marble lobby, gaping at the high, vaulted ceilings and chandeliers hanging everywhere for just a moment, before you began searching the crowd for a familiar face.

You found yourself mingling with your other fellow lab techs who were buzzing with excitement to be invited to such an event, and you suppressed a frown as 30 minutes passed with no sign of Bucky.

Eventually, the crowd filtered into the main room filled with round tables where dinner would be served, and a huge glass bar which stretched along one side of the room. People were still socialising before food was to be served, and your eyes were roving non-stop, unable to focus on proper conversation with anyone.

Finally, just when your hope was dissipating, you saw him. He was standing in the middle of the crowded bar, clad in a black tux. This was the first time you had ever seen him in such an outfit, and it took your breath away. He held a flute of champagne in one hand, a complete vision and so different to how you usually saw him, typically fresh off the battlefield in his combat gear.

He was talking to Sam who had his back towards you. Bucky’s expression was unreadable but, as if sensing your burning eyes on him, he glanced towards you.

He did a double take, pausing mid-sentence to Sam, and you held your breath. He gave you a polite, if slightly terse, smile. He turned his attention away from you again, and your heart clenched.

It hurt more than you thought it would. It was just a tiny gesture, and he had acknowledged you, but why did it cause you pain?

No. Stop overthinking. You excused yourself from your colleagues and found yourself walking towards Bucky and Sam, reminding yourself that you were friends. You spoke to Bucky all the time - okay, maybe not in the last couple of weeks, but you had nothing to be afraid of. Just act normal.

“Hey guys,” you said lightly, watching as Bucky cleared his throat and gave you that same, tight smile.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Sam beamed, giving you a one armed hug. “You look stunning.”

You smiled shyly, twisting your hands together as you looked at Bucky.

“Thanks. You both look very handsome.”

As if answering your prayers for alone time with Bucky, you heard Clint in the distance beckon for Sam to go over, and he excused himself, leaving you two stood in a slightly awkward silence.

Bucky raised his champagne and took a sip as you tried to get him to meet your eyes.

“How have you been?” you asked finally. “Haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

Bucky shrugged, finally looking at you. “Been okay. Busy.”

You felt frustration rising. Usually he would be telling you all about the things that had occurred in his day, his daily arguments with Sam, anything and everything in between. But now he spoke to you as if you were merely acquaintances.

“Listen. Did I do something wrong?” you said finally, surprising yourself by cutting to the chase. You just wanted Bucky back, and you let your desperation take over.

Bucky seemed taken aback at your forward approach, but he composed himself quickly.

“Nothing,” he said, his tone ever so slightly blunt. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You felt like you were going to cry. You didn’t know how just a fortnight ago, you and Bucky had been locked in a passionate cinch in his bed, and now he was completely icing you out.

“Okay,” you said, deflating slightly. You knew that if he didn’t want to tell you, there was nothing you could do to squeeze it out of him.

“I’m gonna go take a seat,” he muttered, giving you one last look before he walked away.

You quickly hurried back to your colleagues, embarrassment searing your insides.

The evening passed painfully slowly. You found yourself sat quietly at your table after dinner service had ended and people were either having drinks, chatting out on the balconies or dancing in the middle of the ballroom.

You felt the gala could not get any worse. Until it did.

Natasha and Bucky were in the middle of the dance floor, swallowed up in the sea of couples and yet standing out due to their striking attractiveness. Natasha was dressed in a short, tight black dress, so simple and yet so gorgeous. Her red hair was straight and sleek, and she looked up at Bucky as they danced, his signature almost-cocky smile on his lips. A smile which he had not shown you since that day.

Natasha was effortlessly beautiful. She didn’t even have to try and she could get any man she wanted. Bucky included, obviously. You watched their movements closely as they danced, how they spoke to each other in low voices.

The emotions rising in your chest was like bile in your throat. It burned, it hurt, and it was able to illicit a terrible response in your brain.

You felt so ridiculous.

The dress you had on suddenly felt too tight, too uncomfortable around your stomach. You caught sight of your reflection in one of the large, ornate mirrors hanging off the walls and suddenly felt so ugly. You had tried so hard tonight, and for what? Bucky had barely given you ten seconds of his attention, and at the end of the day, no amount of effort could make you feel beautiful.

You didn’t know how you could’ve let yourself believe in something more. You had to make every effort to even just feel somewhat presentable, but women like Natasha didn’t have to. She was stunning and talented and intelligent, the obvious choice.

God knows why you had been questioning Bucky’s lack of attention. Maybe you had simply been misinterpreting your closeness all along.

You stood then, not wanting to cry in front of an audience. No one would notice you early departure anyway.

You left the ballroom, almost tripping in your stupid heels as you collected your things from the cloakroom.

Shrugging on your heavy coat as you marched through the empty lobby, you yelped in pain as you rolled your ankle clumsily, sending you crashing gracelessly onto the floor. You cursed, coat half-hanging off your body as you felt tears spring to your eyes.

It was the last straw. You were crying as you tried to stand, ankle throbbing, feeling mildly grateful that there was no one around to witness your childish episode. You thought you might have heard someone calling your name, but you ignored it, the roaring in your ears failing to stop.

Your tears didn’t cease, not even when you finally made it back home, ripping off the dress as soon as you could and crawling into the safety of your bed.

Bucky finally found you the next day in your lab on your lunch break. You were startled to see him appear in the doorway, your eyes tired and swollen from a night of crying. You hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

“Bruce isn’t here,” was the first thing you said.

He looked almost annoyed as he walked in and said, “Wasn’t looking for him.”

“Oh. What do you want?” The words came out harsher than you intended. Bucky definitely looked annoyed now, a scowl fixed on his face.

He shook his head. “Never mind. Forget it.”

“Bucky!” Your voice came out loud and sharp as he turned back around. Frustration erupted. “You know what - you have no right to behave this way.”

“Excuse me?” He turned to look at you incredulously, forehead creasing.

“The way you’ve been treating me - the past few weeks since that night - you just ignore me now,” you were practically spluttering, all your feelings fighting to pour themselves out at once. “It’s horrible. I thought we were friends.”

“We were,” he said, looking almost torn.

“It’s not fair.” Your eyes were stinging and you were mortified, hurriedly lifting your hands to wipe them.

“Are you crying?” Bucky asked softly, looking nervous.

“Yes,” you snapped. “I thought we were close - I thought you liked me.” You were humiliated at your confession but ploughed on. “I thought that night meant something. But you -”

“Woah, hang on -”

“Don’t interrupt me!” you huffed.

Bucky took you in his arms, pulling you into his chest as you tried to pull back.

“Calm down,” he grunted, holding you still as you let out an exasperated noise. “Breathe.”

You knew he wouldn’t let up, so you let your anger reduce to a simmer as you focused on breathing steadily.

“Good girl.”

His presence was comforting despite your anger and frustration towards him. He always made you feel safe.

“I thought you liked me,” you repeated in a quiet voice. You were staring at his chest, refusing to look at him.

“I do,” he said, his voice tight.

“No, I thought you liked me as more than a friend.”

Bucky pulled back, lifting two figures under your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Can we rewind?” His request was soft. “Tell me. What did that night mean to you?”

“Are you really going to make me do this?”

His silence spoke volumes.

You tried not to let your frustration get the better of you. “I really like you, Bucky. I’m not a girl who enjoys sex with no strings attached. Especially not with you. I mean, I enjoyed the sex -” you blushed violently, “- but I - I want more.” Your words were rushed and you stared at the empty spot above his head, wanting to die from embarrassment.

“More?” he promoted.

“A relationship,” you clarified. “I know that’s not what you want. And that’s fine. But if we could at least just go back to how we were, where you actually spoke to me and spent time with me, I would really like that. Because I miss you.”

Bucky looked perplexed as he released you, mouth opening wordlessly. Finally, he uttered, “I don’t want that.”

Searing pain burst inside you, and your face crumpled.

“No, no, no,” he said hurriedly as your vision blurred. “I mean - I don’t want to be friends, because I want to be together. I want a relationship.”

“With me?” you asked, confusion marring your face.

“With you.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you said instantaneously. “Are you joking? This isn’t funny.”

“Would I joke about something like that?”

“You said you were bored,” you blurted. “You asked me if I was ‘okay with this’.” As you spoke, you realised how groundless your assumptions actually might be, but you refused to believe the alternative - that Bucky genuinely wanted to be with you.

Bucky threw his hands up in the air, looking defensive. “You said it was ‘just sex’! I never at any point told you that this was just fun for me.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Bucky dragged a hand over his face, sighing. “Okay, I think we may have had a breakdown in communication.”

“But I don’t get it,” you insisted. “Why would you want to be with me? I saw you with Natasha last night.”

“Dancing,” he said indignantly. “Just dancing.”

“You didn’t dance with me,” you shot back. “I - I only went to that dumb thing because I wanted you to ask me to dance.”

Bucky looked pained, biting down on his lower lip with regret. “I didn’t know.”

“I wanted to look nice for you,” you confessed quietly.

“You did. You were gorgeous.”

You laughed humourlessly. Bucky frowned.

“I’m being serious.”

“Sure.” You genuinely didn’t believe him.

“Stop that and look at me,” he said sharply.

His eyes were filled with both annoyance and affection, making you falter. You didn’t say anything when he sighed and stroked your hair.

“I wanted to tell you how beautiful you were. But I just couldn’t bear to be near you. I thought you just wanted something casual. And I don’t think I can handle that.”

“I can’t handle that either,” you confessed. “I really want to be with you, Bucky.”

Bucky beamed then upon hearing your words, relief washing over his face.

“Really?”

How could he ever doubt that? You smiled and nodded, but your smile was fragile and faded at the thought of Bucky and Natasha dancing last night. Even if there was nothing untoward happening, you still felt that he should be with someone as equally impressive as Natasha.

“Yes,” you confirmed. “I want to be with you, but at the same time, I don’t know why you would want to be with me.”

Bucky frowned. “Is it that hard to understand?”

You didn’t say anything, so Bucky continued, “I thought you knew how I felt. I’ve been making it pretty damn obvious these past few months.”

“I thought you were just being nice,” you mumbled. “I did think, sometimes, maybe you had feelings for me, but then I decided it just didn’t make sense.”

“Tell me why,” Bucky said gently.

You took a deep breath, knowing you could be vulnerable around him. “I’ve never felt that I was good enough for you. I feel so average, so normal. And you - well, you’re you. So outstanding in every way.”

Bucky shook his head, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. He smiled slightly when you blushed in response, skin flaming.

“Listen to me. Do you know how I view myself? I’m completely flawed, my morals are sometimes questionable, I’ve done terrible things -”

You were shaking your head vehemently in disagreement, and he smiled.

“See? You’re proving my point. We’re our own biggest critics. And maybe you don’t see how amazing you are, but I do. And I want you. I have pretty good taste, you know.” The way he looked at you made your self-doubt falter - he was observing you like you were so precious, the softness and tenderness in his face making your heart flutter.

You smiled then, Bucky taking a step closer, dipping his head to whisper against your lips.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life convincing you how brilliant you are, if that’s what it takes.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #avengers fic #Bucky one shot #bucky barnes x you #bucky fic

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holylulusworld · 9 months

Text

Band-aids

Summary: Your alpha needs you.

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a little injury, dramatic omega, overprotective omega, fluff, pregnant omega

“Doll?! Y/N, where is the sanitizer?” Bucky calls for you from the bathroom. “Baby? Omega?”

Your alpha gasps as you storm into the bathroom. Your eyes are wild, you’re panting heavily, and your scent changed. Bucky can smell it; you’re worried about him.

Bucky watches you open the medicine cabinet, hating that you are worried about him now. “Y/N.” He tries to calm you. “Doll?”

“What happened? Where is your injury? Are you bleeding? Is it a cut? Do I need to call an ambulance?” As you turn around, the sanitizer, band-aids, and sterile swabs in your hands, you make your way toward Bucky. He sits on the edge of the large bathtub he installed some months ago.

“It’s nothing, omega. Just a scratch,” he mumbles. “You need to calm down. I can check on the cut, okay.”

“No! I’ve got this!” You step between his spread legs to get a better look at the cut above his left brow. “How did this happen? Did someone hurt you?”

Bucky knows you are about to cry and sighs deeply. You knit your brows together, debating whether to call a doctor or not.

“Omega, baby. I already cleaned the cut with water, and it stopped bleeding,” Bucky softly speaks to you. Your alpha takes the sanitizer out of your hands to clean the wound. “It’s a scratch. I’ll live.”

“I’ll decide if it’s only a scratch.” Carefully cupping Bucky’s jaw, you tilt his head to get a good look at the cut. You hum. He’s right. The cut is small, and the wound stopped bleeding. Still, you are worried.

“It was an accident. Alpine jumped at me, and I turned my head at the wrong moment. He hit me with one of his claws.”

“Alpine hurt you?”

“It’s nothing, doll,” Bucky gently places his hand on your swollen belly. “You shouldn’t worry so much about me. I’m still…a super-soldier and my healing is…”

“A wound is a wound, James Buchanan Barnes. A scratch or not.”

Bucky doesn’t want you to get mad at him or worry you even more. The truth is that he slipped on the ladder and hit his head.

“It’s almost healed, doll. I only wanted to clean it again before the wound closes completely.”

“Hmm…this doesn’t look like a scratch from Alpine,” you wonder aloud. “Alpha.” You use his presentation on purpose. “Did you lie to me?”

“I-uh…” Bucky starts to sweat. He clears his throat and tries to win a moment to find a better lie to explain what happened. “I—sorry. I wanted to fix the creaking door of the wall cupboard. Alpine jumped at me, and I slipped…and fell. I hit my head on the counter.”

“OH, MY GOD! We need to go to the hospital. Right now. I’ll get the car and—” Bucky stops you from dragging him out of the bathroom. He gets up and wraps his arms around you.

“Baby doll, I hit my head more than once over the years. I got punched, thrown around, and slammed into walls.” You inhale sharply. “I’m sorry for worrying and lying to you. I promise it’s nothing.”

“You got hurt. That’s not nothing, Buck.” You hide your face in his chest, stiffling a sob. “I can’t let you get hurt.”

“And I love you for it.” He nuzzles your hair. “Let’s get you to bed. It’s late and I scared you. Let me check on you and little Bucky.”

You nod against him. “What about the wound?”

“It’s closed, Y/N,” he whispers. Bucky kisses your forehead, and you relax in his arms. “I promise you don’t need to worry about me.”

Bucky smiles as you tell him you like taking care of him. He hums and smiles widely.

Of course, he doesn’t want you to worry about him, but it makes his heart flutter knowing you love taking care of him…

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Band-aids #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #alpha!bucky #alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader #a/b/o #pregnant omega

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jobean12-blog · 7 months

Text

Insatiable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Vampire AU)

Word Count: 893

Summary: Bucky will never tolerate any harm coming to you and he will do anything to protect you.

Author's Note: Another little piece for Kinktober! I can never leave out my favorite AU and Vampire!Bucky is one of my fave kinks! 🫠🔥 The inspiration for this came from Castlevania season 1- if you haven't seen the show it doesn't matter, I just love the idea of Dracula losing his mind bc anyone tries to hurt his love. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: soft sweetness, mentions of b-l-oo-d, fi-g-e-r-in-g, p-in-v, Vampire!Bucky bc he's just so hot lol

Vampire AU Masterlist

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

His blue eyes pierce the darkness of night as he gazes down on the slumbering village, unmoving on the large balcony even as you approach.

“I was wondering where you had gone,” you whisper as you curl yourself against him. “I hate being in bed without you.”

He removes his gaze from the village and settles it on you, the radiant skin of his brow furrowing when he sees your bare skin.

With a tsk of disapproval he removes his shirt and drapes it over your shoulders, cocooning you with its warmth as he presses you against his body. He drags his eyes away from you and stares back out over the village.

You lay a palm on his bare chest, feeling nothing but his cool skin. “Talk to me.”

He rests his hand over yours. “I’m going to burn that city to the ground.”

The words come out in a rumble of a warning, his eyes glowing and his fangs elongating.

“No,” you state, sliding in front of him so you can draw his attention. “You’re not.”

With a sly smile his focus returns to you. “Is that so doll?”

He cages you against the iron railing of the balcony and ghosts his fingers along your collarbone, moving higher until he pushes his shirt from your shoulder.

“Mm hm,” you hum, pressing yourself closer to him.

His dark eyelashes kiss his cheeks as he feels every inch of your naked body and his hands glide along your curves.

But when he speaks the next words his grip tightens and his eyes flash. “But they tried to take you from me. Tried to take the only thing that makes this eternity worth enduring.”

“James,” you whisper, brushing your fingertips along his jaw. “They didn’t succeed. You saved me. I’ll always be safe with you.”

His fingers ghost over your hip to grab your elbow before they continue sliding along your arm until he catches your wrist in his hand and leans his cheek into your palm.

“They need to pay for what they’ve done,” he murmurs as he lifts your hand and presses his lips to each fingertip. “I will make them bleed.”

“You can’t punish all of them for the wrong doings of only a few.”

“I can,” he says, his voice deep and powerful. “Besides doll,” he croons, his smirk growing, “how do you plan to stop me?”

Your own grin graces your features as you remove your hand from his and take his wrist, sliding his fingers down between your breasts and along your stomach.

His breath hitches ever so slightly as his eyes track the movement.

“A distraction,” he simpers.

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

“For the rest of eternity?” he teases.

“Are you complaining?” you ask when his fingers meet the apex of your thighs.

You release his hand and he doesn’t move, his touch teasing.

“If I could stay buried inside you forever,” he murmurs, nipping lightly along your throat with his fangs, “I would.”

You shiver and spread your legs wider when his fingers dip lower. His free hand slides firmly around your neck and his fangs still hover above your delicate skin as he runs his nose the length of your throat, inhaling your scent into his lungs.

“You smell good enough to eat,” he hums when he slips two fingers inside you.

Your head rolls to the side, exposing more of your neck as you thrust your hips onto his fingers, whispered pleas for more falling from your parted lips.

“You tempt the beast inside me doll,” he growls.

“I want you…every way I can have you James.”

The drag of his fingers is slow, torturous and purposeful.

His cool lips graze along your jaw before they find yours and he draws out every breath from your lungs, pushing harder and deeper with his fingers.

“James,” you gasp as your legs start to tremble.

Without warning he pulls his fingers from inside you and lifts them between your bodies, the moonlight illuminating his glistening skin. He brings them to his lips, licking and sucking them clean of every last drop with a satisfied growl.

“They tried to take you from me,” he repeats, his eyes growing darker even as a soft glow surrounds his irises. “Tried to take this from me.”

As he speaks the words he grabs your thigh and spreads you open, lifting your leg and wrapping it around his waist. He fills you in one hard thrust, your back arching and bending back over the railing.

He holds you in his embrace, his hips still as he nips and sucks along the swell of your breasts.

“James…please,” you beg.

When his lips reach your pulse point he bites down hard enough to draw blood, his fangs caressing the spot before he soothes it with his tongue.

“You would have me do nothing when they try to take everything from me?” he whispers into your skin, his voice raspy with need. “I can’t lose you.”

He starts to move; each roll of his hips deliberate as he chokes out the next words and wraps his hand more tightly around your neck, drawing you impossibly closer.

“I can’t lose you and I’ll do anything to protect my Angel. Even if it means I have to be the Devil.”

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @lizette50

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x femal reader #vampire!bucky #vampire!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #vampire au #kinktober 2023

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 2 months

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I'll come pick it up after pt.2

John Egan X Female!Reader

Sumarry: When John comes back from the mission, "injured", he wants his watch back...

Warning: Historical inaccuracies/ flirting/ use of Y/n/ mentions of blood/ violence (punching someone)/ medical inaccuracies

Word count: 1,8k

Her leg was bouncing up and down, she was biting her nails as she nervously watched the watch that Major Egan gave to her. ‘’Y/n, what are you doing?’’ a nurse asked. ‘’Nothing, why?’’ The nurse got down on her knees next the very anxious woman. ‘’You look nervous.’’ She took a deep breath as she watches the time again, it was the fifth time in the last 2 minutes. She couldn’t wait for him to come back to get his watch. At first, she didn’t understand why he gave it to her, but when he said he was going to come and get it back, it was clear to her that he wanted to see her again.

‘’Let’s get home boys!’’ Major Egan’s voice was filled with joy when he said those words. He was going home; he was going to see her again. ‘’So, who was the lady?’’ his co-pilot asked with a hint of teasing in his voice. ‘’She’s the chief nurse, she’s pretty. But she’s mine!’’ He wasn’t usually the jealous type, but with her, he was going to fight every damn kraut just to see her again. He felt weird claiming her like this, she wasn’t an object, she was a woman, a wonderful woman. Well sure she was an object, of all his desires, he was obsessed with her, and they’ve only had met. ‘’Alright, she’s yours, are you gonna go piss around her to mark your territory’’ His co-pilot teased again. John Egan chuckled, but not too much, his focus right now was getting this plane back home, and getting his watch back, so he could talk to her.

‘’They’re back!’’ One of the kids working with the mechanics yelled. Y/n picked up her skirt and ran outside. Because she was the chief nurse, of course, not because she wanted to see if Major Egan came back in one piece. Who was she kidding, of course it was to see if he was okay. She had been worried sick about him the second his plane took off. She was counting the number of planes that were coming back, they only suffered 2 losses, it was sad, but it could’ve been worse.

When his plane landed, Bucky’s stress was back, he had to see her, and he had to get all her attention. A part of him hated himself for the idea he just got, the other half was screaming to him, to do it. ‘’Hey, punch me’’ He seriously said to his co-pilot. The men beside him turned his face to see if Bucky didn’t suffer any head injury, but no, he was perfectly fine. ‘’What?’’ ‘’Punch me! And don’t go easy on me, I must bleed’’ He was being serious. ‘’Come on, punch me.’’ His co-pilot couldn’t believe what he was earing. ‘’Major- ‘’ ‘’No major, no ranks, just punch me so I can go see the nurse!’’ He admitted, scared that his co-pilot won’t do it. But he did, and before his fist went into Bucky’s face, he told him how crazy he was. Then- BAM- the right fist of the co-pilot went directly in John Egan’s face. To his pleasure, his face was bleeding, his nose too. He was going to get her attention.

‘’Nurse!!’’ She recognized the men screaming, it was one of Egan’s crewmates. She was running towards the plane, and saw her John, with blood all over his face, but everyone else seemed fine, but that wasn’t her concern right now. ‘’I’ll take him!’’ She announced to the other nurses. Bucky was in awe, she was amazing. The way that she ordered the other nurses around, while helping him walk, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Her scent filled his nose, she was smelling like roses. He wasn’t a big fan of roses before, but they became his favourite flowers. ‘’Told you I was coming back, darling’’ He smirked.

As they entered the nurse’s building, Bucky was happy, he was going to be alone with her. ‘’We’ll go in my office, some of your guys are wounded and I don’t want you to see that’’ She explained as they entered her office. He was still bleeding, but he didn’t mind, he was going to spend more time with her. He was too tall for her, so she couldn’t make him sit on the chair, he was going to have to sit on her desk. ‘’Sit on my desk, I’ll go get the things I need’’ She left the room as Egan sat on her desk. He examined the office, the wall had an ugly color, but he knew that they couldn’t paint the walls. His eyes stopped on a picture of her with a small kid, they were on a porch of a house, probably the house she grew up in. It might be her brother, he thought. He hoped it was her brother a not a childhood friend that had a massive crush on her. She came back in her office and closed the door. ‘’You’ve found the pictures’’ she said as she washed her hands. ‘’Yeah, it really stands out on the ugly wall’’ He laughed, looking at her. ‘’I know, it’s depressing, I can’t change the color’’ She approached him, she needed to examine his wounds before treating him. He opened his legs, so they weren’t in the way. She came close to him and looked at his face. ‘’Is it okay if I touch you?’’ She asked, unaware of the dirty mind of the pilot that coughed a little. She saw that he was confused. ‘’Your face, Major. Can I touch your face’’ He nodded, and she put her hands near the open wound. He hissed, his face was sensitive, after all, he was punched in the face. She quickly removed her hands, scared that she was hurting him. ‘’Don’t worry, it’s just sensitive, work your magic, darling. ‘’ Her hands were back on his face as her breath was shaky, she was close to men all the time. But there was some sort of tension in the room, it was almost intimate. They were both nervous. ‘’So, what happened to your pretty face?’’ she asked. He smirked at the word pretty. ‘’Pretty uh?’’ he teased, he wanted to see if she was comfortable. ‘’You’d like that Major, but seriously, what happened to you?’’ her tone was playful. ‘’Pirates, they invaded the plane, I had to fight to save my crew’’ he was inventing a fake story, because what was he going to say? I asked my co-pilot to punch me in the face so I could spend time with you and have all your attention? He couldn’t say that.

‘’Pirates?’’ She tilted her head, smiling. He nodded. ‘’I’ll have to clean up the wound, and maybe stitch it up, the pirates got you pretty bad.’’ He smiled; he was making her laugh. ‘’Yeah, they were thieves, they wanted the watches of the crew, I told them that I gave mine to a pretty girl. They weren’t happy about it, so they beat me up’’ he explained with a flirty tone. His voice was deep, Y/n had to focus on treating him. She took a tissue and put it under water so she could clean the blood off the Major’s face. ‘’This might hurt a little’’ she warned. ‘’I can take it’’ she smirked. ‘’If you can beat up air pirates, you can take anything.’’

She started to clean the blood under the attentive gaze of the men, he was watching her every move. She felt intimidated by the way he was looking at her, his eyes were screaming I wanna be yours. She was focused on his face, when she’s focused, she bites her lips. It wasn’t intentional, but John Egan thought he was going to melt on her desk. She quickly cleaned him up and then, looked at the wound again. ‘’I’ll have to stitch you up; I’ll go get something for the pain’’ she was going away. But he grabbed her wrist, not wanting her to leave. ‘’I’ll manage, if it hurts too much, I’ll let you know’’ he said.

The tension in the air was too much, for both. While she was prepping her stitching kit, he was watching her again. ‘’Who is the kid with you in the picture?’’ he asked, with his deep attractive voice. ‘’He’s my brother’’ she answered. He was relived, it wasn’t a childhood friend, there was no ring on her finger, and no sign of her being in a relationship with anyone. John Egan felt butterflies in his stomach. ‘’You’re ready for this Major?’’ the way his title escaped her lips drove him crazy. He thought about her saying his title in another circumstance, but again, he couldn’t get a boner when she was about to stitch him up. She came close to his face again, but this time, with a sewing kit in her hands. ‘’I was born ready.’’ There weren’t many stiches to put on his face, just enough to help the scarring process. ‘’If I hurt you, please tell me, no grown men act. Tell me’’ she explains. ‘’You could never hurt me, darling’’ she blushed, he smiled.

She began to work, it was painful for him, but it was bearable. She was so careful; her hands were soft on his skin. Again, his eyes were on her, he was admiring her, again. This time, hers on his face, she wanted to see if there was any sign of discomfort. After 5 stitches, she was done. ‘’They’re you go, as good as new’’ she exclaimed. Bucky didn’t want her to be done. ‘’So, do you have my watch?’’ he asked. She smiled and went to wash her hands in the sink in her office. ‘’Of course I have it, we couldn’t let the pirates have it’’ they both chuckled as she reached in her shirt to get it. Bucky thought he was dead; he was in heaven. She put his watch in her bra. He could faint, he was trying not to blush. He was jealous of his watch. ‘’ It was in my pocket, but when the planes arrived, I had to move fast and I put it there, you don’t mind, do you?’’ she said, handing the watch to the men. ‘’Not at all darling’’. She was going to reply to him, but a nurse burst in her office, covered in blood. ‘’Y/n! We need your help! We can’t find the artery and we can’t stop the bleeding!’’ she was in shock. The chief nurse looked at the major, and then ran to help her nurse. The room now felt cold, her presence was warming him up. Now that she wasn’t in the room anymore, he felt cold. But he couldn’t be jealous of his injured crewmate. The only thing he was jealous of, was his watch. He was looking forward to tonight, the celebration for the mission that went well. He was hoping to see her, so he could ask her to dance.

Part 3 is here ⬇️

If you enjoy please let me know.

#john egan x female reader #major john egan #master of the air #john egan #callum turner imagine #callum turner #austin butler

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fluffyprettykitty · 4 months

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Love's not a competition (but I'm winning)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 800 words

Outline: Bucky wants you to break up with him. But he really doesn't know what that means for him.

Warnings: breaking up, toxic relationships, mentions of ex, implied infidelity.

A/N: Based on Kaiser Chief's same-titled song and Bucky won the poll for this one! Hope you will enjoy!

PS: dividers & banners by @/saradika

Main Masterlist ・❥・Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You suddenly halt in your steps and take a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief. You notice that the sound of footsteps behind you is slow and steady, instead of the expected rush to stop you from leaving. This further confirms your decision to move on.

But this wasn't the last day.

Both of you knew that. But still, you cling on to your suitcase and place your hand on the door handle. You know he won't stop you, you know he never loved you enough to care about you other than what you could provide for him but still you want to see him on his knees begging for you like his ex-girlfriend used to beg him when you first had started seeing him.

But you were one of the many. Anytime, any day. Just another notch in his belt.

Until you weren't.

Somehow a one-night stand in a local bar turned into a year and you almost forgot how you met him. You almost forgot how much he loved treating people like toys. His light is engulfing and his smile draws you in and makes you forget. Makes you neglect yourself. And you're vulnerable. You always have been.

And even now the fights were constant, and lips crushed and crushed again until your bones were bleeding, the final straw came only last month.

"I know you want me gone." He said waving his fingers in front of his nose as if he wasn't believing his own bullshit anymore.

"I never said anything like that." You scoffed crossing your arms, you knew, right there you knew, it was time for him to move in on his next victim, maybe he got bored of you, or maybe she was smarter.

"I heard you." He slurred his words as if speaking was such a bother to him. Late October, yet early winter inside your heart.

"When you were talking to your friend the other day... on the phone." He turns to look at you. He was waiting for a moment like that, a complaint so he could justify his actions.

But you were smarter than that. You could hurt me where it would pain him the most.

His pride.

"Sorry, Tony was back in town and I must have gotten hella drunk." You spew a little lie over a concrete truth and you know it's enough to keep the wheels turning. You won't go down without a fight anyway.

He seems surprised even for a quick second that you can only tell only by observing him so much through the crowd. You knew he was talking about last week when you mentioned to your best friend Kate, how much you missed your old town and how much you couldn't stand this city anymore.

A vague thing, he loved grasping at straws.

He didn't inquire much just wished you on your merry way but when he came back to his apartment in the middle of the night he pushed you behind the door and devoured your body in a way that you feel like a masterpiece.

He always kept a score in his mind, any good thing you did for him and he'd reward you in bed, close to bed, anywhere but the bed. He never forgot.

"I've left some money in the envelope on the bed table for the next bills."

"You didn't have to do that. I can afford it all by myself."

"I know but I'm not a user." You retort and open the door, it's either freedom in the air or a deciding step at this point.

"I never said you were." He mumbles and somehow you wonder what you ever saw in him other than pretty eyes and a broken boy?

"I never said you did." You step out and you can tell he is confused, but he never paid enough attention to realize anything or to understand you. You were three steps ahead of the game always.

"Where will you stay?" His words escape him before he can control them and you know he is hurting inside.

"Somewhere." You smile and close the door. And you know It won't be long before he runs to the street to stop you, just like he did before.

But this time around you will leave cause you love doing anything he asked of you. And you'd remain the winner of the game for a long time.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

#selenewrites #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fic

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endless-summer-soldier · 24 days

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dr. feelgood - chapter eleven

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, oral sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, PTSD, choking, angst

word count: 3.9k

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It was the morning from hell. I knew the moment I got in my car that it was not going to be a good day, and that turned out to be the case before I even made it into work. Now I was riding to the hospital in an ambulance, straddling a stranger and performing CPR.

“We’re about a minute out,” the EMT who was driving the vehicle called.

“Page Barnes,” I replied, as I counted out my chest compressions. The EMTs were adamant that they could handle the patient, but I wasn’t leaving his side and I was determined to keep him alive. I heard the doors to the ambulance open and the EMTs carefully unloaded the gurney keeping it as smooth as possible for me to work.

“What the hell…Y/N?” I heard. It was the first time he had spoken to me in weeks.

“Male in his forties, partially deaf. He was walking in a crosswalk and was hit head on by a car. He’s got a broken femur and has been in and out of consciousness with a really weak pulse.”

Bucky turned to the interns and said, “Take over for Y/L/N and get him to CT.”

One of the interns came over to the patient’s side to take my place and I replied, “I’ve got it.”

“Y/N, you’re bleeding,” Bucky stated firmly.

I turned toward him, “I’m fine,” I argued.

“You need to be examined.”

“Bucky,” I pleaded. He just shook his head and held out his hand. I knew arguing was no use, he could easily pull me down and I didn’t need a reminder of what it felt like to be in his arms. I climbed toward the side and took his hand as I jumped down.

“Go take an empty bed, I’ll send someone in to check on you.”

“I’m fine, I don’t need-”

“Let’s make sure, okay?” His eyes were full of concern, and I didn’t have it in me to argue with him, even if I disagreed. I nodded and he moved with the gurney into the pit.

“Buck?” I called before he could get too far. He stopped and turned back towards me. “Please don’t let him die.”

“He’s not going anywhere. I promise.” Bucky ran to catch up with his team. I thanked the EMTs and then found an empty station in the ER where I waited and hoped for the best..

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since our arrival, but eventually Dr. Wilson came by.

“Hey there, Wonder Woman,” Sam said, approaching the bed I was sitting on.

“Wonder Woman?” I replied.

“Oh that’s what they’re calling you now.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a hero. And a badass.”

I scoffed, “I was in the right place at the right time.”

“Yet you still managed to get scratched up,” he put on a pair of gloves. “What happened?”

I sighed, “I was driving to work and came to a stop at a redlight. The car next to me was looking to the left to make a right turn and accelerated, not seeing the pedestrian in the crosswalk. Clint, he’s the guy who got hit, he’s partially deaf and didn’t hear the car coming. The guy hit the accelerator pretty hard and didn’t break until he saw Clint hit the windshield.”

“That doesn’t explain how you got glass in your forehead.”

“I pulled over to the right to help out and the guy who started the accident backed up and hit my car.”

“Jesus. Was he drunk?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t really talk to him.”

“So what did you do?”

“I yelled for someone to call 911 and started to examine Clint. At first he was in shock, but he was responsive. So I asked him his name and about his job and his life to calm him down. He probably has a concussion. He kept losing consciousness and his pulse was really weak so they need to look at his heart too.”

“He’s already been taken in for scans.”

“Is he stable?”

“He’s stable.”

I eased at that, feeling better already.

“Now sit still. I’m going to pull out this glass from your forehead. Then I’ll clean out the lacerations and stitch you up.”

Sam started pulling out small pieces of crushed glass and placed them into a bowl. All the shards were pretty small, but it was still painful. I tried to keep the wincing to a minimum but it wasn’t comfortable. Talking seemed like a good way to keep me distracted from the pain.

“So they sent the head of plastics to come tend to a couple scrapes on my forehead.”

Sam chuckled, “Bucky wanted to do it himself but I wouldn’t let him. You would’ve ended up with two big scars on your pretty little forehead.”

I let out a small smile, “Yeah I don’t think his talents would be best served stitching me up.”

“Stitching? You know that man doesn’t do sutures; you would’ve been glued back together.”

I let out a hearty laugh, knowing Sam was correct. He added, “He wanted the best for you, which is why I volunteered. Told him I’d give you the VIP treatment.”

I sighed, “Just stitch me up so I can go help.”

“I’m sending you to CT after this.”

“What!?”

“You were in a car accident, Y/N. I’d be a bad doctor if I didn’t order you a head CT.”

“I don’t have any symptoms!”

“You’re also running on adrenaline. Just get the scans done and we’ll figure out next steps from there”

“Fine.” I was getting used to not getting my way today.

“Sit tight for now. We’ll have someone take you to get your scans shortly.”

“Dr. Barnes, Clint’s back from CT. He seems much more stable now. Dr. Rogers is in there examining his femur,” one of the interns provided him an update. He thanked him and headed back to Clint’s room. Sure enough, Steve was in there, examining the break in his leg and studying the chart. Bucky knocked on the open door before walking through to his patient.

“Mind if I interrupt?” he said.

“Not at all,” Steve said.

“Hi Clint. I’m Dr. Barnes. I'm head of the trauma team and I’ve been overseeing your care since you got here.”

“How am I looking, doc?”

“You’re doing really well. Dr. Rogers here is going to take you into surgery to repair your femur. You have a little bit of internal bleeding that we’re gonna fix up while you’re in there. As long as everything goes smoothly, you should be able to live a perfectly normal life.”

He let out a sigh of relief, “Thank God she was there.”

“Dr. Y/L/N?” Steve asked.

“Is that Y/N?” Clint asked.

“She’s one of our best” Steve confirmed with a nod.

“She was so badass. She came out of nowhere and took complete control of everything. I was freaking out and she just came over, started talking to me and calmed me down. She was yelling out commands to everyone and insisted the ambulance take us here. She stayed with me the whole time. It was amazing.”

“Sounds like Y/N,” Bucky said.

“Is she single? Do you think she’d go out with me? I figure I owe her dinner at the very least.”

Steve eyed Bucky and raised an eyebrow, forcing Bucky to answer that question.

“I…uh…I don’t know. You’d have to ask her.”

“If you see her, would you mind sending her in? So that I can thank her.”

Steve could see Bucky growing jealous and he hoped it might knock some sense into his friend.

“Yeah, I think she’s getting some scans done,” was all Bucky could muster. Steve jumped in to review the plan for surgery and let Clint know they were currently prepping the OR for him. Bucky excused himself and went to check on Y/N before he had to scrub in.

After what seemed like ages, all my scans were done and I sat there half-watching soap operas, waiting for the results. I heard the curtain pull back and figured it was Sam with my results.

“Can I go?” I whined. When I turned toward the visitor, I was surprised to find it wasn’t Sam at all. It was Bucky. “Hi…” I managed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, looking at my chart.

“I’m fine. How’s Clint?”

“He’s good. We’re about to take him down to surgery. Steve is going to fix his femur and he has a little internal bleeding so we’re going to patch that up.”

“So he’ll be okay?”

“He should be fine.”

“Good.”

“He was asking about you.”

“Really?”

“Sounds like you did a great job at the scene.”

I gave him a half smile, “Thanks.”

“I got your scans back and everything looks good. Just take it easy the next few days. Sam will keep an eye on your lacerations and will remove your stitches in five days.”

“So I can go?” I asked.

He nodded, “I’ll sign your discharge papers. But you are going home. You aren’t sticking around here.”

I wanted to protest, but I knew he was probably right. He placed my chart back on the edge of the bed and turned to go.

“That’s it?”

“What, did you have questions?”

“Bucky, you haven’t even looked at me these past few weeks and now you’re just gonna act like nothing happened?”

He looked up at the ceiling before looking back towards me, “We’re not doing this.”

“Come on, Bucky. Please talk to me.”

He shook his head, and just walked away, leaving me sitting there, feeling hopeless.

After a few days of restless “rest” I returned to the hospital, hoping to get cleared so that I could clock in for my shift. I had all the nurses page Sam as I anxiously sat in the waiting room.

“You’re a day early,” Sam called as he walked toward the row of chairs.

“I’m actually just a spectacular patient who follows all the doctor’s care instructions.”

Sam gave me a look but sat in an open chair and signaled for me to lean in. He gently placed his hands on my face and tilted my head to study the wound.

“It is healing up pretty nicely. We can get those stitches out today.”

“Yessss,” I celebrated.

“Go pop in one of those empty rooms and I’ll be right in.”

I followed his directions and told the nurses which room I was taking. Sam entered a few moments later with his tools.

He started removing the surgical thread and I couldn’t stand the silence, so I made small talk.

“How is he?” I asked.

“Who Clint? His surgery went well as far as I know. You can probably go see him today.”

“Oh…I, uh, I meant Bucky.”

“Oh,” Sam said, taken by surprise. “He’s uh…he’s Bucky.”

“That’s very helpful,” I said sarcastically.

“Well I don’t know what to say. He’s…he’s not himself.”

“How do I get him to talk to me?” I hated how desperate I sounded, but it reflected how I felt. It was only getting worse for me.

Sam let out a deep exhale. “If I knew the answer to that, I would’ve told you weeks ago.”

“It’s like he’s his own worst enemy.”

“He’s stubborn. But he’ll come around.”

“You think?”

Sam shrugged, pulling out the last of the sutures. “One way or another.”

His response was vague, but he left before I could question him further.

Once Sam officially cleared me, I changed into my scrubs. Before I officially clocked into my shift, I went to check on Clint. He was recovering for a few days in the hospital before he’d be released. I poked my head in the door and found Steve in the room, doing a quick check up.

“There’s my hero,” Clint said, smiling at me. I blushed and looked down before smiling back.

“Am I interrupting?” I asked Steve.

“No, you can come in.”

I stepped into the room and walked over to Clint’s side.

“How are you feeling?” I asked him.

“Much better now.”

I smiled at him and then turned to Steve, “He’s doing okay?”

Steve nodded, “He’s doing great.”

“I told you I’d get you the best care,” I said to Clint.

“I think you gave me the best care. Without you, I don’t know that I’d be here.”

“Well, I guess we’ll never know,” I smiled. Clint grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Hey, so this situation has obviously had a big impact on me and I can’t thank you enough for everything you did”

“You don’t have to thank me. This is my job,” I replied.

“I know, but you made sure I was in good hands and taken care of. And I know I would regret it if I didn’t do this so I have to ask…would you like to go to dinner with me on Friday?”

I was shocked, not expecting this. Clint was a good looking man, and he would probably make a great boyfriend. But I wasn’t ready to give up on Bucky.

“Like…on a date?” I asked for clarification.

“Yeah, a date,” he said confidently. I was looking at Clint but I could feel Steve’s eyes on me as I responded.

I placed my other hand on Clint’s, so that his hand was sandwiched between mine, “Clint, I am so flattered, but I’m not really in a place to date at the moment.”

“Is Friday not a good time? Because I’m flexible, we could do Saturday. Or whenever you’re free really.”

I smiled at him, “It’s not the day. I just…” I considered my words carefully, “my heart belongs to someone else.” I kept my focus on Clint, not able to handle Steve’s knowing glance.

“Ah, of course you have a boyfriend. Lucky bastard.”

“But I’ll still swing by and make sure you’re doing okay before you’re discharged.”

Clint gave my hand a sweet kiss and said, “I will always be so grateful for you Y/N. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”

“Same to you Clint. You’ve got a long life ahead of you, don’t waste it.” With that, I released his hand and stepped out of the room.

Once Sam finished removing Y/N’s stitches, he knew he had to find Steve. Sam had a busy morning ahead of him and was grateful when he ran into Steve pouring a cup of coffee in the resident’s lounge on his break.

“We gotta do something,” Sam said.

“About what?” Steve asked, sipping on his java. Sam gave him a look that said it all. “Bucky and Y/N?” Steve added.

Sam nodded, “He’s miserable and she’s still pining. And I don’t know how much longer I can watch this.”

“I feel the same way. Two idiots in love.”

“So what do we do?”

Steve thought for a moment “We need to get them in the same place at the same time. That’s not the hospital.”

“And has alcohol,” Sam added.

“But not Pym’s. Somewhere more��private.”

“Can we get her to Bucky’s house?” Sam asked. A wide grin spread over Steve’s face.

“No, but I think we can get her to mine…”

I rang the doorbell of the house, feeling slightly nervous. This was my first “work” party and I had no idea what to expect. Honestly. I was surprised that I was even invited. I had been working with Steve on ortho all week and it had been going well. Still, I wasn’t expecting an invitation to his housewarming party. I wasn’t really looking forward to the party, but wanted to make an appearance. At the very least, I thought I might see Bucky in a somewhat normal setting where I could maybe corner him and force a conversation.

What I did not expect was for Bucky to answer the door. I’m sure I looked stunned as I said, “Oh, hi.”

“Hi…” he said, as if seeking an explanation. He was dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, and he was barefoot.

“Am I early?” I asked him.

Now he looked thoroughly confused. “Early for what?”

“The housewarming party…” Bucky was still squinting in confusion, so I added, “Steve told me to bring gin…”

Bucky shook his head, “Um, Steve isn’t here. And he’s lived in this house for three years.”

Now it was my turn to look confused. “...What?”

Bucky sighed, “This is a set up.”

Again, I said, “What?”

“They meddled. They’re forcing us together.”

“So…why are you here then?”

“I’m dog-sitting for Steve.”

“Oh,” I said, finally realizing what had happened. Despite being fooled, I didn’t feel embarrassed. And I didn’t want to go home just yet.

“So….can I come in?” I asked. Bucky looked like he wasn’t sure what to say. “I have gin,” I cheesed, holding up the full bottle of Tanqueray.

He bit back a smile and opened the door wider, allowing me to come inside. I was immediately met by a smiling golden retriever. I placed the gin on a nearby table and crouched down in order to give some love to the pup.

“This is Liberty,” Bucky introduced.

“Hello Liberty!” I exclaimed, scratching her behind the ears as she happily panted. She quickly laid onto her back and I started scratching her belly, as she rolled around happily.

“She’s so sweet,” I commented.

“Yeah, she is pretty great.” Bucky was a few feet away in the kitchen and asked, ‘Do you want something to drink?” I picked up the Tanqueray and brought it over to him.

“Just a gin and tonic or gin and soda. Whatever Steve has.” I slid the bottle across the counter toward him as he pulled out two glasses.

“So tequila is for celebrating, whiskey is for wallowing…what is gin for?” he asked, as he poured a generous amount of gin into each of the glasses. He topped the drinks off with a little bit of tonic and then sliced up a lime and placed a wedge into each glass.

“Gin is for…heart-to-hearts,” I offered. He eyed me cautiously before handing me one of the glasses. I held it up, waiting for him to meet my glass, and eventually he did. Once we clinked, we both took a sip, and then stood there awkwardly in the kitchen.

“Are you ready to talk to me?” I offered, not wanting to waste any more precious time.

He shook his head, “Not really.”

I took a seat at the kitchen island and pulled out another stool, signaling for him to sit. He looked at the seat before finally giving in and sitting down next to me.

He turned to look at me and yet again I said, “Hi.” This was turning into my catch phrase around him. But I uttered it now because I wasn’t sure where to start.

Bucky let the slightest bit of a smile show and said, “Hi.” He broke eye contact and stared into his drink, and I realized I might need to nudge him a bit more.

“Look, if you’re not ready to talk about what happened, that’s okay. But I can’t take the silent treatment anymore. I’m going crazy and I don’t know how to help you.”

He let out a deep breath, “I’m not good at opening up...”

“Then just…tell me about your day.” He peered back up at me, uncertain and I shrugged, “We’ve gotta start somewhere.”

And so he did. He told me about the cases he had and I interjected with a cheeky comment every now and then to try and ease some of the tension, which surprisingly worked. Talking with him was always so easy and I just wanted to remind him of that. As the story of his day winded down, I took the liberty of refilling the now empty glasses with gin. I placed the fresh drink in front of Bucky and pushed, “Tell me about the PTSD.”

He surprised me when he didn’t argue. He mentally prepared by gulping down a third of his fresh drink.

“When I first got back from Afghanistan, it was pretty bad. It mostly manifested when I went to bed, in the form of night terrors. It was really terrible for a while. I would wake up in the morning surrounded by feathers with a knife in my bed, having attacked one of my pillows because I thought it was an enemy. I literally would walk through the house looking for weapons in my sleep. After that, I started locking the door and seeing a therapist who helped me work through a lot of it. And I started to get better. I still had the occasional nightmare, but I was able to manage it. I started to feel like myself again. I could get through most days without a flashback and I wasn’t constantly haunted by memories.”

I could see him starting to get emotional, so I reached out for his hand.

“Seeing you, with those marks on your neck, was evidence that I’m still broken. We’re lucky that this time it was just my hands and not a knife or a baseball bat. I can’t risk something happening to you.”

“Bucky, you are more than your PTSD. Did you ever consider that maybe we could work through this together?” I offered. He didn’t look at me, focusing all his energy on the drink in front of him. “You just pushed me away without even considering our options.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“Bull. Shit. Things got tough and you bailed. Did you know I pulled you out of your haze? You had your hands around my neck and I was able to stop you and bring you back. So I believe we can work through this. Maybe it's locking the doors at night. Maybe we don’t have sleepovers for a little while. I don’t know the solution, but I’m willing to figure out something that works.”

“Y/N…” he sighed.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t give up on us.” Now I was starting to get emotional. My voice cracked as I continued. “You know we have something special. Hell, you knew before I did. And I resisted against this the best I could because I didn’t want to get distracted. Which backfired because trying not to think about you was more distracting than just succumbing to your charms. But I figured it out and I opened myself up to something more and just when I finally accept that I’m falling in love, this happens. And the thing that hurts the most is how quickly you decided to throw this away. To throw…me…away,” the last line came out as a whisper.

Bucky bore his eyes into his drink, unable to watch her tear up and in so much pain, knowing he caused all of this. It felt like a lose-lose situation, either way she ended up hurt. At least if he pushed her away, she still had the chance to live a happy life.

I wiped away a stray tear with the heel of my hand and took a big sip of my drink, trying to distract myself from the feelings creeping up inside me. When I looked over at Bucky, he was frozen but there was no emotion behind his eyes. He was fixated ahead, refusing to look at me. That was the moment I realized this was a lost cause. There was nothing else I could say.

I let out the deep breath I didn’t realize I was holding and placed my near-empty glass on the counter.

“Okay then,” I said, collecting the few things I brought with me. “Goodbye, Bucky.”

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes doctor au #bucky barnes slow burn #bucky barnes series

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marvelouslizzie · 1 year

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unconventional methods - chapter 3

Summary: Bucky and Bunny finally find some time to talk and clear things up. Will communicating solve their problems?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes x Adult Content Creator SHIELD Agent Reader)

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, sex deprivation, touch-starved couple, pet names, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, p in v sex with no protection (both parties are clean and she’s on birth control), slight dirty talk if you squint, having a hard time to vocalize wants or needs, mentions of past trauma, mentions of forced sex work, overthinking, emotional support, no mention of y/n.

A/N: Once again, thank you so much for showing interest in this story. This is the last chapter but if you wonder something about this couple, if you want some headcanons or you have ideas about them, you can always send me a request. Not just about this story, don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question. Unless it’s a hate message. They are never welcome.

If you didn’t read the first or the second chapter, you definitely should before reading this one.

unconventional methods - chapter 1

unconventional methods - chapter 2

marvelous lizzie’s masterlist

Once again a big thank you to @notafunkiller and @es1dit for everything. They helped me so much. I can’t thank them enough for supporting me during this journey.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

<<< Previous Chapter

As she promised, Agent Elvisa was waiting for Bucky at the SHIELD headquarters when he returned. Despite being tired and wounded, he was much calmer than before. Taking some time to reflect made him realize how harsh he was. He just felt betrayed and humiliated before, but after seeing what she had been working on, seeing those people suffering in the hands of HYDRA and having the privilege to help them made him understand this wasn’t about him. This whole thing was a critical mission, and they were just caught up in the mess.

The problem was that he didn’t know how to proceed anymore, but luckily Agent Elvisa approached him at the first opportunity.

“Hey,” Her voice felt so soothing to his ears. He always thought she had a silky tone, and enjoyed it in the videos she shared, but hearing it in real life was a completely different experience. Especially when they weren’t fighting.

“Hey.”

“You are bleeding.” Her eyes were fixed on his left eyebrow. It was a simple cut, one that would heal by itself, but she looked concerned nonetheless.

“It’s fine.” His response came instantly. “I will be healed soon.”

“No.” She shook her head, rejecting his oversimplification. “It needs to be cleaned.”

“Believe me, I have had worse wounds that healed by themselves.”

His response made her grimace. “You thought that would convince me, but it made it even worse.” She gently grabbed his arm and steered him to another room. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’m just gonna clean the cut, okay? I don’t wanna hear any complaints.”

It was impossible for Bucky not to smile a little. It’s been a while since someone was worried about him. The fact that someone cared about him enough to make a big deal out of a simple cut made him feel... cared for. That’s why he followed her without saying a word. Agent Elvisa made him sit down while looking for a first aid kit.

“We should talk,” she said while opening and closing some drawers.

“Is that why you insisted on cleaning the wound?”

“Yes and no. I think it should be cleaned, but I also wanted to talk. I’ve been thinking a lot since you left.”

“Me too, but I don’t think we should do it here.” Bucky didn’t want someone to eavesdrop. This was an extremely private thing to talk and SHIELD headquarters weren’t the place.

“Okay.” She finally looked back at him. “There’s no first aid kit here.”

Bucky looked around, making a point without saying anything. It didn’t look like this particular room would have any first aid kits.

“Fine.” She accepted the defeat. “You are right, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna give up. Wait here until I find a first aid kit.” She raised her index finger. “Do not move.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She smiled at him before leaving the room.

***

Bunny struggled to find the medical kit she needed, but when she finally did, she quickly made her way back. She stopped in her tracks as soon as she heard Natasha's voice when she got closer to the door.

“So that’s it?” She heard Natasha asking.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Natasha.”

“Just don’t hold this against her. She had no idea.”

“I’m aware of it. That’s not the problem.” Bucky sounded a bit defensive.

“Then what is the problem?”

“I just…” He stopped for a second. “I just don’t know what is real and what’s not anymore. That’s the problem.”

Hearing that last sentence just shattered her heart. She didn’t even know who he was until that video call yet he was questioning everything, every conversation they had. It made her feel like crap. Like he was no different from the men who treated her like shit just because of what she was doing. It was foolish of her to believe that he was different.

Harshly, she pushed the door all the way and stormed inside. Bucky and Natasha looked in her direction, completely blindsided by her presence.

“Oh, hey. I was just talking to–” Natasha tried to talk, but she didn’t even glance in her direction.

“You don’t need this.” Slamming the first aid kit on the table, she looked directly at Bucky. “You don’t need me and believe me when I say, I don’t need you. I just wanted to talk and make things clear, but now I understand that’s not what you want at all. I don’t need to explain myself to you. I don’t need convince what part of me is real. If you're questioning this... this thing between us or what we shared, you can go to hell.”

Her rage caught them off guard. And before he could say anything, she stormed out of the room. Bucky and Natasha stared at each other, feeling completely lost.

“Go after her, you loon!” Finally, Natasha snapped him out of his shock and he quickly took her advice. When he finally caught up with her, she was about to hop on her motorcycle.

“Bunny!” Hearing him call her Bunny again made her stop.

“What?”

“What the fuck was all of that?” He looked confused and angrier than before. “You are gonna tell me to go to hell and just leave?”

“I heard your conversation, Bucky. What’s there to talk about if you think some things we shared weren’t even real.”

“I didn’t say they were not real.”

“You said you don’t know what was real and what was not.” She repeated what she remembered from their conversation.

“I’m just confused, okay? I didn’t do this for a long time. Why do you think I started to follow you to begin with? I’m socially awkward and anxious. I’m clueless and after learning about your mission, I’m confused. I just don’t know what to think anymore.”

“I waited for you to return. I tried talking to you back there and you didn’t want to. And then I come to hear that you are questioning what was real. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“I didn’t say I don’t wanna talk, did I? I just didn’t want anybody else to hear what happened between us.”

His explanation made her stop for a second. “Then why didn’t you just say that?”

“I just told you. I’m awkward and anxious, okay? But I do wanna talk. I wanna understand. I’ve just come from the mission you’d been working so hard for. I saw how important it was. I understand this whole thing wasn’t about me, but you have to stop and think about how things look from my perspective when you say this was just a mission for you. I deserve some explanation. I think I deserve that much.”

He was talking much calmer than before, trying to explain what he thinks. It made her notice how different things could be from his side. He simply had no clue. Just bits and pieces.

“Fine, let’s talk then.” She sighed deeply. “Your place or mine?”

“Yours. Mine is a mess.”

***

It didn’t take them long to arrive at her place. Bucky couldn’t help but look around carefully the moment he stepped inside. It was a small apartment with a single bedroom. The door was open, so he could actually see inside her private space and nothing seemed familiar. Which made him realize she did not do her photoshoots here. None of the content she shared was taken here. Nothing besides the photos she sent him privately. From day one, he was allowed to see her, in a vulnerable state, in her own home. If that wasn’t a sign of trust, what was?

“Do you wanna drink something?” Her question brought him back to reality.

“I don’t think so.”

“Maybe a glass of water?” She suggested, thinking he must be exhausted from the mission.

He answered after considering the offer. “That would be good actually.”

She quickly made her way to the kitchen, drinking a glass of water herself and then bringing him another. Bunny was sitting across from him when he finished drinking.

“So… What do you wanna know?” She asked as Bucky places the empty glass on the coffee table, getting right into the conversation.

“I just wanna know…” God, there were too many questions on his mind, but nothing was more important than this one. “Why did you start talking to me?”

“I answer almost every DM. It was a part of my mission: finding potential HYDRA hunters.” Her answer disappointed Bucky, but he just nodded quietly. “Yet I don’t keep talking to every one of them. I told you before.”

“You told me you end the conversation when it gets too far.”

“Yes, I don’t entertain people in my DM’s. I just try to act like a normal adult content creator so they won’t suspect anything.”

“Is that what you were doing when you answered me?” Bucky wanted to know more details. He wanted to learn what changed and when.

“I was just answering a cute DM and you kept talking to me, differently compared to others. You were concerned while they were just wondering about the lack of content. I was sick, and feeling lonely. It was a huge mistake sending you a photo, but I’m lucky it didn’t jeopardize the mission. If it was someone else, it could’ve been a big problem. Not only HYDRA hunters, but there are also stalkers you know…” She noticed he was getting concerned about her safety. Then she quickly added, “Most of them are just shooting their shots, trying to see if they can score with me or if they can get some private content.”

“Right.” He sounded so uncomfortable, thinking about how hard it must be.

“I’m good at detecting when they try to steer the conversation that way, so I do something before it’s too late. And you…” She took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. “You never tried to do that. You kept talking to me like I’m a normal human being. You asked regular questions. I wondered how long it would take you to say something inappropriate, and you never did.”

“And that’s why you kept talking to me.”

“Yes. I liked talking to you. And then I found you extremely hot.” Bucky gave her a puzzled look. “When we exchanged photos.”

“Oh, right.” Extremely hot? he wondered, but didn't say it out loud.

“Talking to you was the best part of the whole operation, other than finally catching those bastards. You made my days bearable. I was looking forward to talking to you, getting to know you while trying not to get too invested because god knows how many married men use those platforms.”

“Best part of the operation?” Bucky repeated her words, his tone indicating he was having a bit of a hard time believing that was possible.

“I was lonely, Bucky. Isolated. Mistreated. After a long time, someone was talking to me like a normal human being. He was also a good-looking guy as far as I could see. I just let myself enjoy it, it shouldn’t be a crime.”

“I enjoyed it, too, you know.” He was trying to take everything in. “That’s why it hurt so much when I saw you in that meeting. I was shocked.”

“I didn’t expect to see you in that meeting. If I’d known, I would’ve talked to you during the video call. I was sure that we’d have time to speak face to face and explain that this was a mission, but you were the real part of this for me.” She was getting emotional, but she tried to hold her tears back. It was really hard to explain herself like this because she was always blamed for most of the stuff. Especially what happened to her in the past when she was captured by HYDRA. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. Just believe me, it was unintentional.”

“I wish you just explained everything to me when you saw who I was.”

“I was scared,” she admitted. “I was talking to my work crush the whole time, without knowing. I was afraid to mess it up. I thought you would get mad when you learn that the whole thing was an undercover operation and I’d lose my chance to explain everything.” She took another deep breath, trying to calm herself down. The fear of rejection was growing in her belly. A part of her was certain all the clarifications in the world wouldn’t be enough to make him stay.

“Bunny...” She tried hard to hide her tears, but it was in vain. It was no surprise that Bucky noticed them right away. A second later, he moved right next to her, closing the distance between them. “Are you crying?”

“No.” Even though it was obvious, she tried to deny it at first. “I’m fine.”

Bucky gently touched her face, afraid to startle her, then carefully wiped a tear away with his thumb.

“Please, don’t cry.” His hand remained on her face, and she leaned into his touch immediately. “Especially not because of me.”

“It’s just...” Bunny sniffed. “I know I ruined everything. No excuse will be good enough to fix things.”

“What are you talking about?” He was still gently caressing her cheek.

“I know that… you won’t forgive me, Bucky.”

Her words were clear enough, but it was the way she said those words that broke Bucky. Her pained voice and watery eyes… The realization finally hit him. She was really afraid of losing him. She actually thought they wouldn't be able to put this behind them. She assumed he would just decide to move on with his life after clearing things up. That was the exact same thing he was worried about all this time. He thought Bunny didn’t need him, that she could just continue her life without him.

He had no idea how long it had been since he felt someone actually cared about him this much and wanted him to stay after everything that happened. The feeling of being wanted by her was strange but so very welcome.

“You didn’t.” He slowly closed the distance between them, and his lips lightly brushed against hers. For a second, she had a bit of a hard time registering what’s just happened, but when she finally did, she started to kiss him back. He moved his lips as if he was afraid to break her, but in reality, he was afraid of his own reaction. It had been so long since someone touched him or kissed him. Her lips moving against his own made him whimper. He had no idea what to do with his hands, while Bunny angled her head a little and deepened the kiss. Her lips started to move more hungrily, letting out low moans as she kept on tasting him.

Bucky closed his eyes and let himself go. He was so lost in this, he didn’t realize Bunny was moving until he felt her weight on top of him. He opened his eyes just to see her wrapping her arms around his neck as she was tightening her legs around his torso. His head fell back, his mouth gaping as he let out a deep moan. Feeling her whole body pressed against him was simply too much.

“Touch me, Bucky.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but it was the hardest thing he’s ever done so far. Looking into her eyes, he tried to get used to their proximity and her softness. His hand slowly moved back on her face, fingers gently grazing her skin as he tried to convince himself this wasn’t a dream. Bunny closed the distance between them and started to kiss him more hungrily than before. Lips moving fast, tongues and teeth cluttering... Bucky’s hands moved down to her neck, then to her collarbones, and kept on moving until he settled them on her waist. His mouth moved to her neck, slowly nibbling to see her reaction. Bunny’s loud moan was enough to make him start tp suck on her skin.

“God, please…” She sounded so desperate. “Please touch me.”

Bucky tightened his grip on her waist, reminding her that he was actually touching her, but that wasn’t enough. Impatiently, she grabbed both of his hands and pushed them against her breasts. All he could do was just blinking a couple of times before squeezing them a little bit harsher than he intended. He was so afraid of how rusty he would be at this, but Bunny let out a satisfied moan, proving him wrong. That was all he needed. His warm hands left her breasts, just to slip them under her top, making her gasp. Her skin was soft and welcoming as he moved them up to her breasts again.

“Can I?” He lingered on her bra, wanting it off. She nodded eagerly.

It took him several tries to finally unclasp it, but Bunny didn’t offer her help, just waiting for him to get rid of it. As soon as it was unhooked, she removed her top and bra simultaneously, revealing her bare breasts. He looked mesmerized by her like he didn’t see her naked before, and it made her smile.

“Remember when you were talking about my nipples?”

“Yeah?” Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave her breasts, not for a second.

“You can do all of that now.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He cupped both of her breasts, perking them up. One hand was colder than the other, but she didn’t care one bit. If nothing, that was proof the man in front of her was Bucky Barnes in flesh and blood and not a wet dream. He leaned in and started to leave soft kisses at first, then his lips wrapped around one of her nipples, and his tongue swirled around. He took his sweet time as if he was tasting the most delicious dessert on earth. He used his free hand to massage her other breast as he kept licking her nipple. Unable to control her reaction, her back arched.

“Oh fuck!” Everything he was doing with his tongue was sending waves of pleasure through her body. She could feel the wetness starting to pool between her legs. She was more ready for the next step. His rock-hard erection poking at her core made it even harder to stay in control. She started to move her hips, trying to get a little friction, and that finally made him break away from her nipple. The loud wet sound caused her to bite her lower lip, his hands quickly wrapping around her body before he unexpectedly stood up.

“What are you doing?” She sounded so surprised, and Bucky chuckled in response. Her legs tightened around his torso while he started to walk towards her bedroom.

“Taking you to bed.” As soon as he was done speaking, he dived back into her neck, kissing her lightly while walking.

In a few seconds, Bucky layed her gently on the edge of the bed, and she quickly raised herself up on her elbows to watch him grabbing her pants and underwear without losing any time and tugging them down. He looked at her with utter hunger while trying to convince himself this was really happening. Slowly he kneeled, gently placing his hands on her tights, and looked up at her.

“Can I taste you?” How he asked this question felt like he was asking for a glass of water after a long day.

“We can do that later, come here.” She wanted to feel his skin against hers, already missing his warmth.

“I promise I will do whatever you want, just please, let me taste you first.” The desperation in his voice was making it hard to say no, so she nodded. For a second, he looked like a kid on Christmas morning, giving her the biggest smile.

Bucky’s hands slowly moved on her legs, trying to feel every inch of her. The motion was also helping him to ground himself. Slowly he leaned in, but instead of doing what she was hoping for, his lips landed on her thighs, leaving a wet trail of kisses. As time passed, the wetness started to drip from her center, making it even more evident. Not only could he see it, but he could also smell how intoxicating it was.

Finally, when he was satisfied with his work, his tongue lightly brushed directly against her clit. They both moaned at the same time for different reasons. While she was electrified by the feeling of his tongue, he was getting lost in her taste. It was so good, he couldn’t help but lick a couple more times in a row like he was starving.

“Fuck, yes!” She whined as the pleasure started to spread. “Oh god, yes!”

Bucky was busy licking her from bottom to top, and every time his tongue brushed against her clit, Bunny was making the most delicious sounds. Unexpectedly, he pushed both of his hands under her ass and pulled her close to his mouth.

“Bucky!” Her yelp amused him, but he didn’t stop. By focusing on her clit, he was able to deepen his licks and elevate the pleasure by flattening his tongue against her clit fast. This new sensation made her legs buckle, and she grabbed his hair way more harshly than she anticipated.

“F-fuck, Bucky. Keep going, p-please.” He had no intention to do otherwise. As his tongue continued to work, Bunny kept on begging. “I-I’m close. Please, don’t s-stop!”

When she finally reached the climax, her entire body was burning with pleasure. She was mindlessly moaning and gripping his hair as he continued to work through her orgasm. After a while, her hands let go of his hair, and that’s when he started to slow down.

“Are you okay?” His chin was resting on her lower tummy.

She took a deep breath before answering. “I’m more than okay.”

Before moving his head back between her legs, Bucky chuckled. Her eyes instinctively lowered when she felt the shift just to see him pushing his middle finger inside her without any warning. She jerked back while gasping for air.

“Bucky!”

“What?” He asked with a smirk. Before she could even open her mouth to respond, he started to move his fingers, and whatever she was going to say did not matter anymore. Soon, his finger was already soaked with her arousal, so he didn’t wait long to add the second finger.

“Shit, Bucky, this feels so good.” She moved her hips up to increase the friction as she spoke.

“Stay put, doll.” His metal hand settled on her tummy, pushing her down as gently as possible. “Just let me…” He thrusted his fingers harder than before, pressing against the upper walls.

“Oh my fucking god…” She cried out while he felt how she started to squeeze his fingers. She was getting closer, but he wanted this orgasm to be much better than the previous one. After licking his lips at the thought of tasting her again, he leaned in to give her another lick. Suddenly, Bunny’s hand was back in his hair, gripping harder than before.

“Yes, yes, yes. Bucky, yes!” He wanted to smile so badly, but he had something more important to do. As he continued to lick her, he added a third finger, hoping this would push her over the edge. The way she moaned was the most sinful thing he ever heard, and he was already dying to hear it again. He kept moving his fingers quicker and felt her grip tightening in his hair.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, Bucky… Please, don’t stop!”

He wanted to say he won’t, not until she comes again, but he couldn’t. He knew better not to change anything when she was begging for more. Bunny's second orgasm ripped her apart as he kept moving his fingers in and out relentlessly. She kept repeating his name like prayer until the pleasure turned into overstimulation.

“Oh my god,” She spoke after taking another deep breath. She felt like she was floating as her recent orgasm still made her lightly jerk a little. When Bucky finally removed his fingers, she trembled one more time.

“How are you feeling?” She felt Bucky moving onto the bed..

“Great.” She had a huge smile on her face, which made his heart swell with pride.

Bunny jumped on top of him as soon as he lay next to her. Although he was surprised by the sudden change, he moved his hands to her hips and began to caress her.

“I think it’s time to get you undressed, Sergeant Barnes.”

For the first time, she saw how her words affected him up close as his gaze changed into something darker. She kept on looking in his blue eyes while she leaned down and gave him a kiss on the lips before bringing her mouth right under his ear.

“Will you take your clothes off for me, Sarge?” The way she was talking sent shivers down his spine.

“As you wish.”

Bucky rolled her over so suddenly, she couldn’t even understand what was happening until her back touched the mattress. He quickly stood up and started to undress under her glare. Her eyes focused on his upper body until it was time to take his boxers off. His erection sprung out, and she could already feel her mouth watering at the sight.

“Is this better?” He raised both of her hands with a smile on his face.

“Much better. Now come here.” She gently patted the empty space right next to her, and he silently obeyed. As soon as he sat down, Bunny was all over him. She gently pushed him down. Her hands slowly moved down to his body, enjoying how his skin felt against hers. Firm and warm. She drew circles with her hands, caressing the same places over and over again until Bucky couldn’t help but moan at the sensation.

“You like that, baby?” The way she was speaking, that fucking tone… God, he was melting inside.

“Yes.” He breathed out. “So much.”

“Want me to touch you more?”

He nodded so eagerly, Bunny couldn’t just look at his beautiful face. She leaned down to give him a kiss. His hands quickly wrapped around her body, pulling her closer. It was messy and wet until Bunny moved her lips to his cheeks. He huffed with disappointment, but she didn’t stop. She covered his face with kisses. He felt her soft lips on his cheeks, eyelids, and jaw until she decided to move to his neck.

“I need more,” Bucky whimpered as she kept kissing.

“Tell me what you need.” Her hands were moving on his chest, fueling his hunger.

“More. More of everything.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but it had been such a long time since he was touched like this. He was craving for more, it didn’t matter what. “Just… touch me.”

Her fingers grazed over his nipples, making their way down as she opened up a bit more.

“What if I…” She gently wrapped her hands around his cock. “did this?”

“Ohgodyes.”

Bunny slowly moved her hand with a smile on her face. “What about this?”

He choked on his words, just letting out an unintelligible sound.

“You like that, don’t you?” He managed to nod as she kept moving her hand up and down. Before he could even realize it, she moved all the way back. When she removed her hand from his hard cock, he wanted to protest, but the moment he looked down, the sight of Bunny between his legs welcomed him.

She didn’t say a word, just looked into his eyes before lowering herself and taking the tip of his cock into her mouth.

“Oh, fuck!” His head fell back onto the mattress.

Her tongue swirled around the tip, grazing over the sensitive spot. Her wet mouth and her hot tongue were driving him crazy already. He could feel the pleasure bottling up.

“Bunny…” He hardly managed to say it out loud. She didn’t stop, just looked up to see his pretty face. “Baby, you gotta stop, please.” The words came out as if he was in agony. She had no choice but to release his cock.

“Am I hurting you?” Her wrinkled brows were enough for him to understand how truly concerned she was.

“No, no, no. God, no.” He quickly tried to explain. “I just… don’t wanna come inside your mouth. Not this time. It has been a long time. Very long. I just wanna feel you come around my cock as I come. Is that okay?”

The relief on her face turned into a smile. “It’s more than okay.”

“I don’t have a condom with me though.”

“I’m clean and on pills.” He knew what that meant and the question she wasn’t vocalizing.

“I’m clean, too, according to the regular SHIELD check-ups.”

“Great.” She bit her bottom lips as she moved closer to him. “So what now?”

Once again, Bucky wrapped his hands around her and rolled her over.

“This is turning into a habit, Sarge.”

“You have any complaints?” His playful tone put another smile on her face.

“Nope, not yet.”

“Not yet? Hmm…” He didn’t say anything else, just grabbed his cock and looked back at her to see if she changed her mind, but instead, she was staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

Bucky rubbed the head of his cock between her folds and her slick arousal started to cover it. After a couple more rubs, he finally pushed himself inside. It took only one swift thrust and he was all in.

“Fuck, baby.” He gasped at the sensation as his head fell down on her shoulder. It was so overwhelming to feel surrounded by her wetness and warmth. So intense. “You feel so good, my god.”

When he pulled back to look at her, Bunny’s hand went to his face. She pushed a strand of hair that fell on his forehead.

“Are you okay?” The question came after standing still for a while.

“I’m good, don’t worry about me.” Bunny’s dismissive answer didn’t sit right with him.

“You are my main concern, all the time, okay? Tell me how does this feel?” His voice was so soft and caring, she didn’t even realize she was tearing up. “Please, tell me I’m not hurting you.”

“You are not.” She quickly wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. “Nobody ever asked me that. That’s all.”

Bucky cupped her cheek with his flesh hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Her bittersweet smile made him want to kill every single man who recklessly hurt her.

“Just tell me to stop if you don’t want something, okay, doll? That’s all I am asking from you.”

“I will try.” She gulped down. “It’s gonna be hard, but I will try.”

“Maybe we should stop.” He didn’t wanna push her to do something she wasn’t comfortable.

“No, no. It’s my problem. Sometimes… I have a hard time vocalizing what I want or don’t want.”

“Do you want this?” Bunny eagerly nodded. “I need you to use your words.”

“I want this, Bucky. Please move.”

He slowly and carefully started to move. “How is this pace?”

“It’s good. Very good.” Her words made it clear that she was enjoying it, but the way she said them… moved something inside him. It was full of need.

He couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and starting to kiss her as he kept moving. Quickly, it became really messy. Lips crashing, tongues dancing, hands moving all over… In the blinking of an eye, she was on top of him, desperately moving her hips against him. It didn’t take her long to shutter. Watching her orgasm so up close was something else. The blissful expression on her face, her open mouth, and the way she was moaning mindlessly stunned him.

“God, you are so beautiful.” His thumb moved from her cheek to her bottom lip. He closed the distance and gave her a hungry kiss. His tongue brushed against hers, making her moan again. “I don’t think I can hold back more.”

“I don’t remember asking you to hold back.”

Bucky tilted his head while pursing his lips. “True, but you didn’t have to.”

Bunny started to rock her hips again as she talked. “Please, stop holding back. Stop being so careful. I’m not made of glass.”

“I know that.” The way she was moving made it hard for him to speak. “God, tell me, what position do you want next?”

She didn’t say anything. Instead, she moved away from him and lay down on her back on the edge of the bed. Bucky silently followed her, and in a second, he was back inside her as she pulled her knees back to her chest.

“Does this feel good?”

“Yes.” She seemed pretty content. “Just put some pressure on my legs.” As soon as he did that and started to move, they both felt the difference. It felt like she was much tighter than before and he was touching all the right places.

“Oh, fuck.” Bucky growled. It was much harder to hold back.

“Faster, Bucky, please.” She pleaded, already feeling drunk on pleasure. As he fulfilled her request, her moans became erratic. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“God, I’m so deep inside you.”

“It feels so good. Please… Please, baby, faster.” Her words encouraged him to finally take what he wanted. He started to pound into her. Long yet fast thrusts started to consume her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Bucky, Bucky…” She gripped the sheets, trying to keep her eyes open.

“God, look at you.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her. “My pretty girl, look at yourself. Taking me so deep.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck Bucky!” She took a deep breath. “You are gonna make me come again!”

His response was a loud groan, finally feeling free to come himself.

“Yes, let yourself go, yes.” He keeps talking between thrusts.

Bunny’s eyes roll back with pleasure, her legs trembling while she lets out a cry. He keeps fucking her through her orgasm, thrusting harder than before and allowing himself to follow her. Bucky let out the most broken cry she’s ever heard coming from his mouth as he started to come, but he didn’t stop. He kept on thrusting, ignoring the feeling of overstimulation until she was done coming.

He pulled himself out with a hiss, and neither of them said a word as they lay together. They feared they'd spoil such a blissful moment, knowing there was other stuff they needed to discuss. Bunny began to feel cold as their breathing returned to normal, so with a quick movement, she got under the duvet, keeping it open while looking directly at Bucky. She was silently offering to cover him as well, and he didn’t wait to comply. When he finally settled in, they were facing each other.

“Can we stay like this? Just for a while?”

“Of course, we can.” Bucky wanted nothing more than to just stay in the bed with he, in their own bubble. And they did for a couple of minutes, but little by little, reality slowly filtered back into their minds as the fog of their orgasms got lifted.

“Just so you know, just because we had sex, it doesn’t mean everything is perfect now. We have a lot to talk about that we haven't figured out, but I still want you to stay.”

“Believe me, I know, but we can figure it out together.” A smile spread across her face. That was all she wanted to hear.

“Sounds like a good plan.” Bucky moved his hand over her exposed arm. It was a thoughtless movement, but his touch helped her relax. After a couple more strokes, Bucky felt some kind of patterned bump on her skin, and as he explored it, he instantly recognized it.

“Is that…” His question remained unfinished because he already knew the answer.

“A property tattoo.”

“Property of HYDRA?” The words came out like he couldn’t believe it.

Bunny squirmed uncomfortably. It was never an easy topic for her, but there was no way out of this conversation. Maybe it would be better to talk about it now. Like pulling a band-aid off.

“Do you remember when I said maybe I can tell you how I can be so sure about you one day?” Bucky nodded, remembering what she said when she first saw his face. “I guess that day is today.”

“I think I already know what you are about to say.” It was clear. Bunny was the property of HYDRA for god knows how long and somehow she managed to get out of it. “Look, we don’t have to talk about it now if it makes you uncomfortable. You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I know that, but I want to explain anyway.” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “And it’s never easy to talk about this. So…” Her voice was trembling as she was talking.

“I’m ready to listen, whenever you want.”

Bunny took a deep breath, trying to brace herself. “I was captured by HYDRA when I was young.” The sentence came out as a whole like she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to finish it if she didn’t hurry up. “I was forced to be a part of their human trafficking network… satisfy clients to bring more money or please the higher-ups so I can stay alive. It went on like this for years until one day… I was in the right place at the right time.” She rubbed her face, trying to focus on her words instead of the lump in her throat so she could continue. “That day, SHIELD was attempting to capture some higher-ups and… I happened to be there just because someone requested my presence. Can you believe that? That was all. I was lucky enough to get saved by Nick Fury.”

“And you wanted to help the ones who weren’t lucky enough.” Bucky finally started to put the puzzle pieces together. He couldn’t believe she also suffered at the hands of HYDRA, already feeling guilty that he couldn’t be the one to help her.

“Yes. Director Fury helped me. He even gave me my name, Elvisa. Do you know what it means?” Bucky shook his head. “It means safe.”

“Because you were finally safe.” Bucky felt the weight of the word as he was speaking. This time, Bunny shook her head in agreement. That name meant a lot to her.

“I am so sorry, doll. So sorry I didn’t notice why this case was so important to you. Why you said you can’t always express what you want during sex.” He felt like shit because finally, her harsh reaction at the SHIELD headquarters was making sense. He wondered how many people in her life thought she was just faking stuff.

“How could you even know, Bucky? You have nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong.” Her eyes were watery, but she did not cry. All this time, whenever she talked about this, tears would fall down, and she had no intention to let that happen again. She wanted to stay strong. She wanted to prove to herself that she was healing.

“I wish I could-” Bunny already knew what he was about to say and she didn’t let him finish.

“No, there was nothing you could do to save me earlier. Even if our paths crossed, you were a captive yourself, remember?” Focusing on Bucky was helping her to surpass all the emotions she was feeling.

“Sometimes I think I just could’ve done more… Maybe I could’ve save myself and others… Others like you.” He sounded so broken, and Bunny couldn’t take it. She grabbed his face and forced him to look into her eyes.

“Stop torturing yourself with maybes and what-ifs.” Her voice came out harsher than she intended, so she tried to soften it as she went on. “What’s done is done. We can’t change the past, but we can shape our future.” Bucky nodded, still looking emotional. He knew that, but he couldn’t help but think about how different thing would have been if he could have just broken free. If he’d been strong enough… Bunny noticed he was getting lost in his thoughts and tried to get his attention. “Just focus on the present and the future, okay?

“It’s not that easy.” Bucky finally found his words to answer her.

“Believe me, I know, but we have to try. Just stop for a second and think about what you want your future to be like. Try to imagine how different things can be.” Bucky didn’t know how to keep his focus on the future. He’d been living day by day for so long, not daring to think about what the future might bring because a part of him was afraid that the moment he started to think about it, the moment he let himself hope for a future, everything would go down in flames.

“I- I don’t know.” He sounded completely lost.

“Just one thing. Tell me one thing you want in your future. That’s enough for now.” She tried to simplify it as much as possible. “That should be enough to keep your focus on the future.”

After thinking for a second, Bucky finally came up with a response.

“I want to have you in my future.” He wasn’t sure if he was crossing a line or not, but he didn’t feel like keeping that thought to himself. “Is that okay?”

A warm smile spread across her face. “I think we might be able to arrange that.”

***

In the middle of a boring day at work, Bucky found himself at a co-worker's birthday party after doing a lot of boring paperwork. He would rather be at home, cuddling his favorite girl, but they compromised on stopping by the party first and then cuddling at home. Normally, nobody could persuade him to socialize like this, especially since he had much better options, but Bunny was another story.

Not only that, but this time Bucky actually knew whose birthday it was, and instead of hiding in the corner, he was chilling on the big couch, with his arms around Bunny’s upper body. She was restin her head on his shoulder while talking to another agent. Although he didn't know her name, he saw her talking to Bunny numerous times. His assumption was that they were in friendly terms with each other.

Since their conversation was about a minor work misunderstanding, he didn't pay too much attention. Besides, his focus was slowly drifting toward Bunny's warmth more and more, just thinking about all the things he could be doing if they were at home. They both agreed on keeping a civil level of PDA at events like this, meaning there would be no doubt that they were a couple, but nothing inappropriate.

Bucky wasn't sure when their relationship had become public knowledge in SHIELD, but they were able to express affection for each other gradually. It wasn’t like they were ever trying to completely hide their closeness. They just tried to keep it as lowkey as possible. But it was a hard task since Bucky grabbed her arm after that meeting. People were nosy and wanted to know what happened between them, but somehow Bunny managed to dodge their questions. Bucky’s experience was much different than hers. Except for Natasha and Sam, he couldn't recall any particular moment when he was asked about his relationship with Bunny. Not that he would ever call her Bunny around co-workers. That was a private nickname. She was Agent Elvisa and he was Sergeant Barnes whenever they were at work.

I guess they put two and two together, he thought, not knowing that most of the people were actually afraid to ask him a personal question like this.

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky's attention was caught by her wary tone.

“Of course.” Bunny raised her head, but didn't move away from his touch. His arms were still around her body.

“I don’t think you’ve ever told the story about how you two actually met.” God, she must be really curious since she is asking this nervous as fuck, Bucky thought.

They both knew it was only a matter of time before people started to ask about their relationship and how it all started openly. Everybody knew they had two different divisions. It wasn’t likely for them to work together for an extended period of time or see each other regularly. That was why they came up with an acceptable version of their story. Not a lie, but not the complete truth, either. Just something that gets people off their backs.

“Oh, that was Natasha’s doing.”

“Really? I didn’t think Natasha Romanoff would be a cupid.” She was genuinely surprised.

“Oh, you have no idea how nosy Romanoff can be.” Bucky couldn’t help but comment for the first time. As he spoke, the girl's eyes moved towards him in surprise.

“She is only nosy when it comes to her friends, and I guess she just had a feeling about us.” Bunny quickly explained in a cute tone.

Her words made Bucky look into her eyes. They didn’t know if it was just a feeling or if she was just simply bored, but they were grateful nonetheless.

taglist (I tried to tag everyone who showed interest in chapter two. If you would rather not be included please let me know.)

@geminiflanagansblog @sadg1rlsei @lia-winther @nanikio @barnesboo1967 @chinaza444 @kaitlin013106 @ryanmxrie @steverogers-wife @weaselbeedisneygeek @tilltheendofthelinepal9950 @happyxdayxbitch @marvelogic @wintasssoldier @buckybarnessimpp @marvelsbitchh @alright-i-guesss @almosttoopizza @rabbitrabbit12321 @cookielovesbook-akie @whalien52bbgrl @cjand10 @scifinerd1818 @dellalyra @capswife @netherqueen23 @beware-my-thorns @freegardenbanananeck @iamstevessmile @raven1234321 @divadinag @noisesinthedark @amanda-says @ozwriterchick @sleyeveryday @arsonfrogger @lfaewrites @alana4610 @splendidreads @acatwriteshere @weirdothatwritess @spider-boyy @shelbygeek @doublevirgogirl @tarotwitchy-main @r02eg0ld @raelorns21 @amberpanda99

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littlemissomega · 8 months

Text

How Low Can You Go ?

Diabetic!reader x Stucky

Summary: reader’s blood sugar drops in the middle of the night

Warnings: Dangerously low blood sugar, low blood sugar symptoms (head racing, shaky, brain fog), crying, blood, mention of glucose tablets (which is kinda a medication? It helps get your blood sugar up), orange juice, fluff, pet names (Ladybug, princess, sweetie, honey, etc)

Short and sweet enough to give your hyperglycemia (high blood sugar)

For reference, any blood sugar below 70-80- depending on your dr- is considered low

Masterlist

Why is my heart pounding? Y/N wonders groggily as her eyes flutter open. She can tell something is wrong. Her skin feels clammy and her whole body is shaking. Y/N slowly sits up, looking around confused. Her brain feels foggy and she can’t think straight. Tear well in her eyes from the frustration and she put her face in her hands.

“Are you okay, baby?” Bucky asks, voice thick with sleep.

Y/N bursts out in tears and he shoots up in bed.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting a hand on her cheek. Her skin is cold and sticky under his palm, “Steve, wake up,”

Y/N feels Steve sturs and sits up on her other side.

“Ladybug, what’s wrong?” Steve asks, rubbing her back.

“Don’t kn-know can’t think heart don’t know don’t fee-feel good,” Y/N sniffles.

“What’s your blood sugar?” Bucky asks, turning on the lamp.

Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, nuzzles her face into Steve’s chest in the bright light.

“Huh? Don’t know too dizzy,” she whimpers.

“It’s okay, princess, we’ll make it all better,” Steve soothes, wrapping his arm around her and Bucky grabs her phone off the nightstand.

Bucky goes straight to her Dexcom app.

“Shit,” he mumbles, pushing the blankets off and jumping out of bed.

“What? What is it?” Steve asks, tightening his grip about Y/N

“40.1 (2.2mmol/L) with double arrows down,” Bucky calls as he runs down the hall to the kitchen.

Bucky’s hands tremble as he grabs two bottles of orange juice from the fridge, as well as Y/N’s glucose tablets.

“Let’s manually check, baby,” Steve suggests, gently turning her so her back is against his chest. He grabs her diabetes bag off the nightstand and gets the glucometer (what checks how much sugar is in your blood) out. He quickly puts a strip in before getting the lancet (finger pricker) out. He quickly cleans her shaking index finger with an alcohol swab before pricking this finger.

“Oww Stevie,” Y/N whines.

“I know baby, I’m sorry,” he soothes, wiping the blood up with the strip. Steve lifts her still bleeding finger to his lips and sucks on it gently. 3…2…1…

“39.3, Buck!” Steve calls, releasing her finger with a pop.

“That bad?” Y/N slurs.

“Don’t close your eyes, Ladybug, Bucky will be right back,” Steve tells Y/N, gently tapping her cheek as her eyes start to close.

“Don’t li-like it,” she responds. Steve wipes the tears from her cheeks.

“I know, baby. Here’s Bucky!” Steve points out as Bucky plops down on the bed.

“Here you go, Ladybug,” Bucky voices, opening the orange juice and lifting it to her lips.

Y/N struggles to part her dry lips, still feeling confused. The sugary, tart juice is a shock to her system and she almost chokes on it.

“There you go, baby, think up,” Steve whispers, placing a hand on the back of her head.

“Take this too,” Bucky adds, opening the glucose tablets and getting two out. He gently parts her lips with his thumb and places them on her tongue before lifting the juice back up. She swallows them without hesitating.

“You’re doing so good, honey,” Steve soothes, “Keep drinking it,”

Y/N obeys, swallowing until the last drop is gone.

“Do you think that’s enough?” Steve whispers.

“I think? I don’t wanna overtreat and it goes high. Let’s just wait 15 minutes and recheck,”

“Bucky?”

“Yes, baby,” Bucky responds, putting a hand on his girlfriend’s leg.

“I’m sor…sorry I woke you up,” she stutters.

“It’s okay princess! I’m sorry you’re feeling icky. You’re gonna start feeling better soon, honey,”

Bucky places a hand on Y/N’s cheek and she leans into it.

“I love you,” she mumbles.

“I love you too,” Bucky smiles.

“And I love you,” Y/N repeats, flopping her head back on Steve’s shoulder.

“And I love you too, Ladybug,” Steve chuckles, “You’re our best girl. Always,”

Masterlist

Taglist:

@liidiaaag

@flourishandblotts-inc

@aagn360

@smromanoff

@butyoudontlookdisabled

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Note

hi 🫶🏻 sad fluff anon here. btw j wanna say I LOVED “always you” thank you sm!! i j love love ur writing 🥹 if it isn’t a bother…could u please write another sad fluff fic with bucky but its inspired by the tiktok audio “u came.” “u called.”

Nomad!Ex!Bucky x reader (happy ending)

Baby the only bother here is how fucking long I took to get to this, I'm so sorry. I really really hope you see this. I love this.

Some sadness but plenty of fluff to make up for it.

His hands shook as he tried to stitch a gash on the side of his torso, blood spilling from the fresh cut, the serum doing little to heal the wound. He winced, collapsing to the floor feeling dizzy, floating in and out of consciousness. The last thing he could remember was running. He'd managed to make it to his apartment without bleeding out in the hall but he couldn't do anything to stop it now.

He cried out, trying to stand back up and slipping on his own blood, finally resting on the floor, unable to do much else. His body moved on his own, his hand reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling his phone out. He struggled to focus on the buttons of his burner phone, he didn't even bother saving numbers, fearing what would happen if it got lost and landed in the wrong hands.

He didn't even know who he could call. Part of him wondered if he should just succumb to his injuries.

No.

If he was lucky, he'd die but what if, just what if they some how found him first. Just like the first time they found him in the snow. He couldn't go through that again. The world couldn't go through that again.

He only had one number he could remember.

It had been 3 years but he’d never forget it.

Even if he tried.

He tried so hard to shake off all the memories, to remind himself it was better this way, for him to be alone, no ties to anyone. He ended everything, with nothing but a note left in his place, begging his angel to forgive the choice he was making.

****

He could hear the sound of footsteps approaching, running, down the hall, getting closer and closer to his apartment. After a momentary struggle with the lock, the door opened and clicked shut.

“James?” He heard those soft footsteps search frantically around the apartment, his angel’s voice calling for him. He could barely keep his eyes open when the bathroom door swung open.

“James!” You gasped, running to his side, your hand covering his gash, while cradling his face to make him look at you. Dark bruises littered his skin, a another cut near his forehead and other small wounds covering his body. “Bucky, what happened, who did this?”

"You came" Bucky whispered tears welling in his eyes, feeling your warm soft hand cupping his cheek, the sound of your voice already healing him.

"You called" You didn’t know where to focus first, your heart racing when you felt his hand on top of yours, pressing your hand further against his cheek.

"You came" Bucky repeated, unsure if he had died on gone to heaven, the sweet angel that had always been by his side, gently holding pressure to his wound while softly caressing his face. "You came"

"I'm here now" You nodded, doing your best to hold pressure on his cut while digging through the first aid kit, quickly working at his worst injury before tending to the others. Bucky didn’t feel an ounce of pain, because nothing hurt more than his heart. Here you were, tending to him with soft gentle hands, whispering comfort, asking if he was okay, as if he didn’t break your heart, leaving you without looking back.

3 years.

His heart had ached for you, yearned for you, he missed you every second of the day but he didn’t want to be selfish, dragging you into the mess of his life. He cried and called for you every single night, only to wake up alone, the bed cold, the room dark with nothing but his nightmares to keep him company.

“You came” He couldn't take his eyes off you while you gently cleaned him off, before helping him stand, and strip the rest of his clothes off, guiding him to the shower and turning the warm water on to wash the grime and dried blood off of him. He winced at the sting, while you grabbed some soap, lathering it between your hands, softly massaging his skin.

“Are you okay baby?” You felt your face heat up and the slip up of the name, even after all these years it felt natural. You kept your eyes trained on his chest as best as you could; your body heating up, he was still as beautiful as always. His eyes were more sullen, beard grown fuller and he had more scars on his body than you remembered but he was beautiful nonetheless.

“I’m okay doll” The name he had just for you rolled of his tongue without hesitation, his hands slowly moving to grip onto your waist, slipping up your now wet t-shirt. He rested his forehead on yours while you gently slipped your hands down his body, careful to avoid causing him more pain. You grabbed a towel that hung nearby, drying him off while he sat on the edge of the tub. You went to his room, grabbing some boxers for him to throw on.

“Come here” You threw his arm over your shoulder, helping him into bed and tucking him in before cleaning up the remaining mess of the bathroom. You hopped in the shower yourself, throwing your wet clothes aside and rinsing off any blood that had gotten onto your skin. You wrapped yourself up with a towel, making your way over to his room to change into some of his sweats.

He watched you carefully as you quietly padded around his bedroom, grabbing one of his Henley’s and boxers, dropping the towel onto the rack before slipping his clothes on. Bucky’s breathed hitched watching you fold away a few of his clothes that he hadn’t put away. You left the room, coming back with some pain meds and water, sitting on the side of his bed.

Home. He finally felt like he was home.

He had lived in the very same apartment for 3 years but tonight it felt like a home.

“Here, take these” You handed him his medicine, helping him take a few sips of water before putting the glass on the side of the table. “I can sleep on the couch-

“Stay?” He held your wrist when you were about to leave, tugging you to slip under the covers with him. “Please doll?”

You couldn’t resist him, carefully crawling under the sheets, your heart hammering in your chest when he wrapped his arm around you waist to pull you closer. He brought your head to lay on his chest, his body finally relaxing, for the first time, his bed felt warm.

“Angel?” He lifted your chin to meet his eyes, “I’m sorry sweets” You wiped the tears that slipped down his cheeks, kissing them away. “Please don’t ever go”

“I’m here baby, not going anywhere” You stroked his hair, gently lulling him to sleep, while he hugged you tighter.

“You came” He kissed your forehead, holding you close, he’d never ever let you go. He made the mistake once and he’d never make it again.

“You called” You whispered against his skin, finally feeling whole again.

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sjsmith56 · 3 months

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Customer Service

Summary: Bucky’s former girlfriend helps him buy a new suit, but he’s there for other reasons. First part of a two part series.

Length: 3.6 K

Characters: Unnamed OFC, named minor OFC, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson.

Warnings: Bucky showing up unannounced at her workplace, OFC remembering the not so good times, anxiety.

Author notes: Once upon a time I worked retail. An ex-spouse or lover showing up unannounced was always problematic. I’m not terribly knowledgeable about what men’s suits go with an athletic build, although my research did lean to a preference for the Hugo Boss and Calvin Klein labels.

🥾 👔 💔

“There’s a customer here that wants to speak to a manager,” said Lynette, the clerk at the customer service desk, sticking her head in the door of the office. She had a big smirk on her face. “I’m just warning you to be careful.”

I pulled my glasses off to glare at her as I really didn’t have time to deal with a grumpy customer. She shrugged.

“That’s why you get paid the big bucks.”

I followed her out and turned the corner where the most beautiful man I had ever seen leaned on the counter, someone I knew well and hadn’t expected to ever see again. Tall, broad-shouldered, with soft dark brown hair, rugged good looks, and a pair of blue eyes that pierced me as sharp as a knife. He had a smirk on his face as if he knew exactly the effect he had on me.

“Good afternoon, sir,” I said, trying to modulate my voice so that I didn’t give away that I knew him. “How can I be of assistance?”

He looked at me in surprise. I was going to be like that was I? Well, two could play that game.

“I would like to return these work boots,” he said, in a manner that indicated he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “They fell apart the first time I used them at work.”

There was a black garbage bag on the counter that I assumed held the boots in question. Before I looked in it, I looked at him, trying to gauge if he was going to be one of those customers to me, in front of a witness. You know the type, someone who buys something to replace the worn-out ones he already has, then tries to pass the worn-out ones off as the newer model in order to get his money back. It’s a scam, and I could always pick out the type of person who would do that, which he wasn’t but it would be just like him to push the boundaries, trying to make me react to his being there. Internally I really hoped he wouldn’t go this far to punish me for ending it with him but his manner, although brusque, had none of the tells of someone who was trying to make life hard for me.

“Do you have your original receipt, sir?” I asked politely.

He nodded, pulled his wallet out of his jeans and opened it, revealing a carefully folded receipt that he handed to me, from his gloved hand. Lynette noticed the glove but stifled her reaction to it, except I could tell he noticed, as his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was a little bothered. Briefly, his eyes flickered to mine. Had I not told anyone about us?

Swallowing, I opened the bag and looked inside at a pair of boots that had definitely seen better days. Although the top portion of them and the tread looked fairly new it was obvious that whatever mission he used them for was too much for the boots to handle. In several places the top part of the boot had pulled away from the sole. The stitching had also split in several of the stress points. I could only imagine what he went through that had caused this much damage to the boots. It was one of the reasons we broke up; nights of imagining the mission, wondering if he was alright but not hearing from him, not until he walked through the door all bruised and battered, sometimes still bleeding because he didn’t want to bother the medical staff. Meaning that I had to patch him up and deal with the stoic suffering he inflicted on himself by not believing he was worth being looked after.

“May I ask what line of work you’re in?” I asked politely. “These were new but seem to have been subjected to a lot of ….” I didn’t want to say the abuse word. “Um … stress.”

“I have a stressful job,” he answered, still playing the part of the customer who was a stranger to me. As if he hadn’t ever touched me in ways that no other man had; had never told me he loved me, who hadn’t argued with me sometimes just for the sake of arguing and liked seeing me all fired up because it meant the makeup sex after would be incredible. “It sometimes involves a lot of … running, jumping, kicking, and often moving through uneven terrain of all types.”

“Okay,” I replied, taking in a breath and deciding I couldn’t do this anymore. “I’ll authorize the refund, since your receipt shows you’ve only had them a week but obviously this brand won’t stand up to the pressures of your job. I would suggest you try a specialty footwear store that can provide something sturdier for you.”

His face changed when he realized I wasn’t going to prolong this moment anymore. Mentioning he should buy elsewhere could also be taken that I didn’t want to see him come back here, to where I worked. I entered the refund in the cash register, asking him to insert his bank card to finish the procedure, then had him sign our copy of the new receipt. I looked at the signature, J.B. Barnes, then at him.

“Is there a problem?” He looked at me with his eyebrows raised; as if he was willing me to say something, anything that he could respond to.

“No, no problem.” I made the mistake of getting caught by those eyes, becoming a little lost in them. It wouldn’t have been the first time those eyes made me change my mind, but not this time. “You have nice handwriting.”

“Thank you,” he smiled sadly, making my heart flutter a little. “I appreciate the good customer service.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied, then smiled my customer service smile as he turned around and walked away.

That should have been the end of it, except he turned around and looked at me one more time when he met up with Sam Wilson. He almost waved at me, but Bucky shook his head at him, and instead he just put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, in support. I heard Lynette gasp.

“That was Captain America,” she exclaimed. She grabbed the receipt that he signed. “That meant he was Bucky Barnes. He looked at you.”

“Of course, he looked at me. I was processing his refund.”

She wouldn’t stop talking about it, so I went out on the floor, wanting to get away from her incessant blathering about how I should go out with Bucky as it was obvious to her that he was sweet on me. Although I normally worked as a manager in the clothing department, I sometimes acted as customer service manager when that person had a day off. I still had a duty to walk around the store, making sure everything was working the way it should. That’s when I saw him again, Bucky, that is. He and Sam were in men’s wear, looking at shirts. By the sounds of it they were having a disagreement.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked.

They both turned to look at me then shared a look that can only be described as polar opposites. Sam grinned at Bucky, who scowled at him.

“He needs a dress shirt,” said Sam, playing along for the benefit of the male clerk on duty in men’s wear. “There’s a little problem in that he thinks a button cuff will be too tight. But he hasn’t worn a French cuff since the 1940s and thinks they’re old fashioned.”

“On the contrary,” I replied. “A French cuff is very fashionable. Personally, I think it offers a classy look to a man. Are you wearing a suit or a blazer?”

“Suit,” said Bucky, who seemed taller now that he wasn’t blocked by the customer service counter, taller than the last time he held me; broader than the last time I placed my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, sexier than the last time we made love.

“What colour of suit and what colour of shirt do you want?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t even have a suit yet.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“A formal event that he doesn’t want to go to because he doesn’t have a date,” smirked Sam. Trust him to be blunt.

“Sam,” glared Bucky. He turned to me, looking a little flustered. “Sorry, I really don’t know what I want. He’s right. I haven’t bought a suit since the 1940s and the one suit I had then was what I could afford.”

He looked a little lost, not that I could blame him. Outside of his missions, his wardrobe consisted of black jeans, blue jeans, long and short sleeve T-shirts, and Henley shirts, and those plain black combat boots that he wore constantly. He never wanted to go out anywhere that required a suit; always saying that he just wanted to stay in, as I was all the entertainment he needed. It was nice until it became stifling. The male clerk was helping another customer, and I suddenly didn’t want Bucky to leave. When we were together, I offered to help him buy a suit, but he always turned me down, saying he didn’t want to be my customer. But if this was the only way I could show him that he would be more than that then I was going to take my shot.

“Would you like me to dress you?” I blurted out.

“Excuse me?” His eyes opened wide. “What do you mean?”

“Sorry,” I smiled. “What I mean is, would you like me to help you find the right suit and shirt for this event?”

“I don’t want to take you away from your manager duties,” he answered, still looking unsure.

“Our store prides itself on its customer service,” I stated. “It would be my pleasure to help you find the right clothing for this event, Mr. Barnes.”

“She knows what she’s doing, Bucky,” said Sam, in a low voice. “I think you should listen to the lady.”

“Alright.” Bucky’s acceptance of my offer was said softly but loud enough for both me and Sam to hear.

I called up to the office to advise them I was helping a customer in men’s wear, taking measurements for a new suit so I wouldn’t be available for the next half hour. Then I pulled a card out of a drawer and wrote James Buchanan Barnes in the Customer Name portion.

“I’ll mark all of your measurements here,” I said. “That way, you won’t have to be measured again if you ever decide to buy another suit with us. It will also mark your preferences in suit style, shirt style, colours, and shoe size.”

“Shoe size?” he asked.

“You will need a pair of dress shoes,” I replied, looking down at his combat boots, all worn and scuffed. “Those won’t exactly complete the look you’re going for.”

“No, I guess not,” he agreed. “What do you need me to do?”

“Well, we can start with taking your height and weight measurement,” I began. “We have a scale here, unless you’re pretty sure of what you weigh.”

His eyes went soft. “6 feet even, 220 lbs., it doesn’t change.”

I wrote it down. “We need to take your body measurements; in one of the dressing rooms if you want privacy as you’ll have to take your jacket off and your Henley. We can choose a shirt first then wear that while I take the suit measurements, so the jacket fits properly.”

“Let’s do that,” he agreed, and waited for me to lead him to one of the larger dressing rooms.

He took his jacket off, then his Henley. Sam took them while he sat in a chair. I got the measuring tape and stood in front of Bucky, before wrapping it around his neck, taking the neck measurement.

“How are you?” he asked, in a low voice meant just for me.

“Managing,” I answered, getting a slight grin from him at my pun. “You?”

“Existing,” he replied, making me look up at him, and noticing how tired he seemed.

I took his arm measurement and wrote both measurements down on the card. “So, what type of shirt would you like? Classic fit, with room for your shoulders? Close fitting to display your physique? Button cuffs, French cuffs?”

“Why don’t you pick out some suitable choices, so I can see them on me?” he suggested.

Nodding, I left him and Sam there and went out to our selection, looking for some candidates. I picked white ones, thinking that if he wanted a coloured shirt, he could grab one with the same size and features. Taking them into the dressing room I was surprised to see he had his T-shirt off.

His physique never failed to impress me. His vibranium arm and shoulder had been made to match his right arm and shoulder, and the Wakandans had done a superb job of duplicating the musculature of that limb. As I removed the updated classic look shirt from its package, then removed the pins holding it together, he watched me, standing close enough so that I was aware of his scent. That mixture of citrus and sandalwood, from a cologne I gave to him on his birthday, brought back memories of burying my face into his neck during our more intimate moments, breathing in his unique essence. Fumbling with one of the pins, I stopped and took a breath, recenterring myself before handing the shirt to him. Without a word, he took it and put it on then buttoned it up. I handed him some cufflinks to go with the French cuffs. Taking the glove off of his left hand he attached that cufflink first, then the next one before standing in front of the mirror and taking in the fit.

“That’s almost perfect,” I said. “The length is enough to tuck in, without the threat of it coming out. The shoulders are snug enough to show your form but roomy enough for your muscles to move. The French cuffs give you a tailored look with enough room not to bind your wrists.”

Sam coughed and we both looked at him, at his timing. “I didn’t say anything.”

With the shirt on I began measuring Bucky for the suit jacket, starting with the chest, over arm, neck, and sleeve length. Then I continued with the shoulders, waistcoat length, jacket length, bicep, wrist and stomach. The next set of measurements were for the pants, waist, hips, thigh, knee, then the rise, running the tape from the front of waist down over the crotch and up to his back. We both glared at Sam who pointedly looked elsewhere for that measurement as well as the inseam measurement, before finishing off with the out seam.

“We can go look at the suit styles,” I said. “I think with your broad shoulders and slim waist that you should stick with Hugo Boss or a Calvin Klein suit. They’ll need minimal tailoring to be fitted properly. You can leave the dress shirt on, while you try the jacket on the sales floor.”

Both men came out and I showed them the suits, not surprised when Bucky gravitated towards the black ones. Colour was hard for him, as he always thought it made him too visible. The arm already did that, in his opinion. He tried on several jackets in his size before he found one that he liked, nodding his head as he looked at himself in the mirror on the floor. I found his waist size in the matching slacks and draped them over my arm.

“Ties?” I asked, walking towards our display. “You have your choice of plain, patterned, paisley, stripes.”

“Plain, black,” stated Bucky. “Could I try a black shirt as well?”

As much as I wanted him to experiment a little, I also knew he would look stunning in a monochrome suit ensemble of black. I found a black shirt to match the white one he wore then took them back to the dressing room. While he put them on, Sam came with me to the shoe department to find a pair of shoes. As soon as we were some distance away, he stopped and hugged me.

“How are you?” His eyes were full of concern. “This must be hard for you.”

I shrugged. “I miss him, even with all of his quirks. He can’t just show up here unannounced. Why is he really here? He wouldn’t even step foot into the store before even though I offered to help him find clothes many times.”

“I know.” He looked back towards the men’s wear department. “This formal event is mandatory for him. We’re going to the White House to receive a commendation and attend a banquet. It’s made his anxiety level go up through the roof. You always had a way to keep him level. It was my idea to come here and hopefully get your help. The work boots still had to be returned. He just bought them on impulse when he came here by himself the first time to ask for your help but couldn’t find you.”

I began walking to the shoe department; suddenly angered that Bucky was only here so I could make him feel better. Sam hurried after me.

“Seriously? You thought I could give him an emergency psychological bandage to get him through an anxiety episode? You’re better than that, Sam.”

“He needs you. He’s pretty lost without you.”

I could feel the need to cry bubbling up from my stomach and stopped at a display of men’s shoes, plain black Oxfords. Picking up a pair I held them up to Sam.

“What do you think? He’s going to look great in the suit and these will be just the thing to finish it off.”

“Yeah, he’ll like them,” replied Sam. “Size 12.”

I went in back to find the shoe, taking the moment to compose myself before coming out with the box. We began walking back to men’s wear when Sam stopped me again. With a sigh I looked at him, feeling almost at the end of my tether.

“Tell me the truth, are you happier without him?”

What an unfair question to ask. I wasn’t happy. I was miserable but I just didn’t know if I had it in me to put up with everything else. The moodiness, the lack of communication, the emotional withdrawal that happened around every anniversary of his fall, the possessiveness … the good things we had never seemed to outweigh the negative. Without even answering Sam knew what I would say, and he touched my arm, then nodded his head sadly. As we stepped into the dressing room Bucky stood there in the suit, wearing the black shirt, with the black tie, and the black pocket square poking out of the chest pocket. I took the shoes out of the box, doing up the laces, then kneeled in front of Bucky, helping him on with the shoes, before pinning the length of the trousers to fit the shoes and stepping back to look at the almost finished product.

“There you go,” I said. “You look great.”

“I feel good,” he replied. “Thank you.” His eyes flickered to Sam.

“You do look good,” said his friend. “The all-black look suits you.”

“I’ll take it,” said Bucky. “All of it, and the white shirt as well, with a tie of your choice. Just so I have two looks.”

“I’ll pick something out while you get changed,” I said. “Then I’ll meet you at the desk. The slacks can be left here for our tailor to shorten. They’ll be ready in two days.”

I found a tie, a paisley design, black with silver and gold accents, that matched the colours of his vibranium arm. There was even a pocket square to match, and I tossed that on the pile. I entered the information of the suit on the card. It would be entered into our database so that anyone could help him find what he needed in the future.

Sam came out with the suit, shirts and shoes, placing them on the desk. Bucky came out a few moments later, seeming a little more withdrawn. After entering the work order for the slacks, I handed him a claim ticket. It seemed odd that in this digital age we still used paper claim tickets, but it was what our customers liked, as part of the service. I tallied up the total, presenting the amount to Bucky, and he didn’t bat an eye as he pulled a black credit card out of his wallet. It seemed the superhero business had finally started paying off. As he entered the code on the terminal, I placed the suit jacket and shirts into a suit bag, the shoes and ties in a paper shopping bag. Then the receipt was handed over, and I looked at him, wanting to say something other than my usual customer service ramble.

“You should launder the shirts before you wear them, just so they’re softer on your skin,” I suggested. “In the shoe department are some protective sprays that will help keep them looking good in wet weather. You can also polish them with regular shoe polish.” Those blue eyes met mine, boring into me, maybe for the last time. “I hope your event goes well. You’ll look great and you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you for your help,” he smiled softly, seemingly accepting that it was over.

He gathered up his bags and stood awkwardly for a moment before turning away. This time he didn’t look back.

Part 2>>

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bucky-fricking-barnes · 1 year

Text

Like Breathing - One

Title: Like Breathing

Word Count: 3.2k

Part Warnings: Dead and injured animals, killing animals, blood, harassment, and stitching up wounds

Summary: Bucky’s life in Cove is far from perfect, mostly because Cove’s residents want nothing more than to scare him away. Luckily for you, Bucky isn’t easily scared off.

A/N: This is the first part of Like Breathing. I hope you enjoy! As always, thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Translations:

Маленький = Little one

Like Breathing Masterlist

Bucky didn’t kill anymore. His therapist reminded him of that daily, which he loathed, but he still nodded along every time she said it. Of course, it wasn’t true. Bucky had killed yesterday.

The sleepy little town he had been placed in as part of his pardon was practically idyllic. Neatly trimmed lawns lined litter-free streets, and each afternoon when the schools let out, children rode their bicycles up and down the sidewalks. They played ball in the cul-de-sac and Bucky swore that one afternoon he’d even seen an ice cream truck turn the corner west of his house. The ranch-style, one bedroom home had been loaned to him by the FBI. It wasn’t something Bucky would have picked on his own, but Steve had reassured him that once he got his bearings, he could decorate it to feel more like his own place. Bucky had not done that. Everything was exactly as it was the day he moved in—basic furniture with no decor. The only personal items he kept were his clothes, a small box containing pictures and other items sent to him by the Smithsonian, and his laptop, which was also given to him by the FBI. It was most likely bugged, just like the house and the phone. The majority of the items in the house were either already there when he moved in or things he’d purchased for Alpine. Bucky always thought of those as her personal items, not his. She was the only other living being that had ever been in his house. Not even Steve had come to visit.

In the four months he’d lived in Cove, he had limited his interactions to the soft-spoken volunteer at the animal shelter and the older woman who manned the register at the pet store. Both of them had been instrumental when he adopted Alpine, a soft white cat who’d been surrendered to the shelter after she’d hissed at the previous owner’s kids. Bucky didn’t think that was a good enough reason to get rid of a pet. He hadn’t planned on getting a cat, or any kind of animal for that matter, but after his therapist suggested it, Bucky hadn’t been able to get the idea out of his head. It turned out that while Alpine had more attitude than Steve, she was affectionate when he needed it. Other than that, she preferred to keep her distance the majority of the time. She was welcome company while Bucky worked each day.

Laughter and jeering from his front yard drew Bucky’s attention from where he’d been reviewing surveillance data on the bugged laptop. He sighed and got up from the kitchen table, pushing his chair back and ignoring the screech it made as the legs scraped across the old linoleum. Alpine darted out from underneath the table at the sound, sprinting down the hall to the safety of the bedroom, just as she did every day at this hour.

As he trudged through the living room, Bucky didn’t have to wonder what was waiting for him when he opened the front door. Every time it was the same: a pickup speeding off with men teetering in the bed and some form of roadkill bleeding out on the sidewalk in front of his house. His stretch of sidewalk was the only one that kids never played on, and for good reason. The brown stains left by months worth of dead animals never seemed to go away, no matter how much Bucky scrubbed.

Jaw clenched, Bucky grabbed the bucket of tools from just inside the door and headed down to the front of his yard. The deer was young, practically still a fawn, and his chest tightened at the sight. Its chest rose and fell unsteadily and the panicked look in his eyes was all too familiar.

Slowly, Bucky knelt down beside the frightened animal, his back to the street. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he soothed.

The animal had been hit by a car—he’d seen these wounds plenty of times—and there was little chance it would survive. Most likely, it would bleed out excruciatingly slow on the sidewalk as the sun sank below the horizon.

“Let’s get you into the backyard, huh? It’s okay.” He kept his voice soft and even as he spoke to it, explaining what he was doing. He knew it couldn’t understand him, but after months of practice, he knew that talking to them kept them calm and kept him from getting a hoof or claw to the face.

Bucky unfolded the tarp from the five-gallon bucket and carefully manipulated the poor animal onto the plastic. Dragging it across the yard to the back of the house was easy, and when it was situated with the forest in view, Bucky left it to get his bucket of tools.

He hated every minute of this ordeal. Sometimes the animals were already dead. Those were the good days. He could simply haul the animal into the woods and leave it for the scavengers. This kind of animal, the ones that were left to suffer in plain view of his living room, were the cases he hated. His nightmares were plagued with them now, their whimpers interspersed with those of his victims long ago.

The most humane thing Bucky could do in situations like these was to put the animal down himself. The first time the creature had still been alive when the men had dumped it, Bucky had attempted to take the animal to the emergency vet less than a mile away. He’d been turned away at the door. The police were no help either, as the sheriff was almost always seated in the back of the pickup. He’d tipped his hat at Bucky one day while they sped away. Bucky had punched a hole in the living room wall.

“You’ll feel better soon,” Bucky said, eyeing the deer as he loaded what he would need into his waistband.

He dragged the tarp into the woods, into the clearing near the meadow. The young deer lifted its head, its longing for the rolling waves of grass and wildflowers clear as it groaned and settled back on the forest floor. Blood slicked over the blue plastic tarp beneath it and Bucky looked away, readying his weapon.

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered. He looked away as he pulled the trigger. The familiar sound of the silenced gunshot didn’t phase him, and Bucky quickly cleaned up the remains, leaving them for the scavengers once he’d removed the bullet.

After hosing down his equipment and leaving it in the garage to dry, Bucky grabbed a bucket of soapy water and the stiff-bristled brush he used to scrub the sidewalk. He stepped out of the garage, but froze almost immediately.

Another animal had been left in the deer’s place, this time significantly smaller in stature. Bucky glanced back at his drying tools, then set his cleaning bucket down on the driveway. Water sloshed over the side onto the asphalt but he ignored it. In just a few long strides, Bucky knelt down at the animal’s side.

The cat’s fur was matted with blood and it whined pitifully as soon as he was within earshot, but when Bucky reached out to touch it, it hissed and tried to scramble away.

“Hey, I ain’t gonna hurt you. It’s okay.”

A flash of white made Bucky pause. He blinked and Alpine was between him and the other cat, her tail aloft as she stuck her curious nose in the injured feline’s face.

“Alpine, leave them alone!” Bucky scolded. “How did you even get out here?”

Alpine simply ignored him and moved to investigate the other animal further. He looked around, spotting the front door open. He must’ve forgotten to close it and Bucky inwardly kicked himself for making such a stupid mistake. It was usually more about what—or who—could get in his house than what could get out.

Sighing, Bucky reached out to pick up his cat. She obliged his touch, affectionately rubbing her head against his hand when he was close enough. The cat laying on the sidewalk watched Alpine intently as Bucky scratched behind her ears, then scooped her up and carried her back up the driveway and into the house. He shut the front door behind her, then went back to the injured animal’s side.

“You gonna let me help you now?” Bucky asked, keeping his voice soft. “Huh?” He reached out a hand and though the cat tensed, he was able to smooth back the matted fur to find the injury.

The cat had a long cut stretching down its right hind leg, from the hip all the way down to the paw. The blood had already begun to clot, which was a good sign, but it was still a cause for concern. If he jostled the animal too much, they could begin to bleed again.

“You really got into some trouble there, didn’t you?” As if to reply, the cat meowed and laid its head down on the stained concrete. It still watched him, but it had relaxed and Bucky felt a bit more confident in his ability to move it into the house where he could stitch up its leg.

“Alright, I’m gonna pick you up. I promise I’ll be as gentle as I can,” he said. He continued to softly narrate his actions as he lifted the cat and held it against his chest, then went into the house through the garage. He jabbed his metal thumb into the button beside the door so that the garage would shut behind him, just in case Alpine decided she wanted to do any more adventuring today.

Alpine, true to form, was waiting for him when he stepped inside the house. She immediately started weaving around his feet, and Bucky would’ve tripped over her if he wasn’t as agile.

“Careful, sweetheart. We gotta be nice to our guest,” he chided when she jumped up on the table. Bucky set the cat down on top of the newspaper he’d left spread out during his research earlier that day. He could get a new copy later if he needed to. Right now his priority was to clean and stitch up the cat’s wound.

After an hour of work, the injured cat had a freshly shaved leg with a freshly cleaned and stitched wound. She had, surprisingly, stayed still and quiet for the majority of the time, only watching Bucky with wide, frightened eyes. He’d discovered that the cat was a girl partway through, which had been more of a relief than anything. Alpine had taken quite a liking to the new animal. Maybe once the animal healed, his little friend could have a friend of her own, given that nobody came looking for her. Friends he could handle, but kittens were a whole other story.

Bucky shook his head as he went back to cleaning up the table. It was a methodical task, one he could appreciate, but he kept glancing back over his shoulder to check on the cat, who’d fallen asleep shortly after he’d finished. He’d set her up near the litter box, and he’d moved the food and water a bit closer so that she wouldn’t be walking as far on the injured leg. Alpine had curled up for a nap of her own on the floor nearby.

When you woke, it took you a second to remember where you were and what had happened. It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up in a strange house in your feline form, but the injured leg and the fluffy white cat snoozing nearby were a first. Rarely did you ever get hurt. Usually the wound healed well enough on its own, but the trauma from being grabbed by the strange man with the grubby hands and then being tossed off the back of the pickup had exacerbated the cut and your healing had come to a halt.

You’d been wary of the dark-haired man who’d found you. He’d had an aura of shame and fear about him, and you’d immediately recoiled. Then, the little white cat had appeared out of nowhere. She was his cat, she’d said in so many words, and the man was good. He fed her, played with her, and the house was warm and safe. You’d relented and taken a good look at him. Warmth had settled into your bones despite your injury and your gut had told you that the white cat was telling the truth. The man with the metal arm was good.

He had carried you inside, cradling you against his chest with the gentlest of touches. He seemed to know what he was doing as he fixed up your leg. At some point after he’d tended to the gash, you’d passed out from the pain and exhaustion.

Now, you were in a soft bed on the floor of his laundry room. You slowly uncurled and managed to prop yourself up without putting too much weight on your injured leg. You had to be careful—if it didn’t heal right, you could get stuck in this form forever, or your human form could suffer the effects of the injury as well.

Alpine lifted her head and blinked sleepily when she sensed your movement.

You’re awake.

“How long has it been since I passed out?” you asked.

She looked towards the back door, where the night sky was visible through several small panes of glass. Only a few hours.

A shout from upstairs made you jump, and Alpine was off like a shot. She raced out of the laundry room through the kitchen, and you heard her scramble down the hall. Another shout piqued your curiosity and you limped after her. Whimpers and a heavy sob were enough of a trail for you to follow.

The man was sitting on the edge of the bed, Alpine clutched against him and his face buried in her fur. He cried as you cautiously hobbled into the bedroom, sticking to the shadows along the walls. Your fur wasn’t dark enough to hide you completely, but it would keep you hidden long enough for you to judge the situation.

Alpine purred soothingly and you listened to the man cry as you looked around the room. The top of the dresser and the nightstand were empty except for a small digital clock and the man’s charging phone. Every space in the house, from what you’d seen, was strangely barren. There was nothing personal to tell you about your rescuer, and while that should have made you uneasy, it only made the sad pit in your stomach grow deeper.

You let out a quiet whimper when a twinge ran down your leg and the man stiffened. He lifted his head from Alpine’s fur and peered around the room.

“Маленький?” he murmured. “Is that you?”

Hesitantly, you crept away from the wall and into the dim light coming from the moon outside. You knew your eyes would glint in the light and he’d be able to find you easier that way.

Just as you’d suspected, the man’s attention snapped to you as soon as you were in the light. He set Alpine down on the bed and carefully knelt on the hardwood floor, his hand trembling as he reached out to you.

“You shouldn’t be up and moving around so soon,” he chided, and you meowed in irritation.

He hovers, Alpine said from her perch on the bed. You glanced up at her. When he’s worried, he hovers. When he’s scared, he hovers.

You let the man brush his fingers against your fur. He exhaled shakily and you stepped closer until he could run his hand over your back. The feeling was sublime and you arched under his touch. It had been so long since someone had touched you with such gentleness and care, and you knew then that you were a goner. You’d stay with this man for as long as you could.

“Thank you for saving me,” you told him, though you knew he couldn’t understand you in this form.

The man smiled a little. It didn’t reach his eyes, but he seemed to appreciate the tidbit of interaction you’d given him. In response, you bumped your head against his knee, rubbing against the soft fabric of his pajamas.

“I wonder if you’ve got a name or an owner out there,” he mused. He continued to pet you as you rubbed against his legs. Eventually, you stood still and peered up at Alpine, who had settled with her tail just over the edge of the mattress. She twitched it, knowing you could see, and you narrowed your eyes at her challenge. Alpine was a young cat, and though she was sweet and naive enough to believe that you were just like her, you sensed an air of playfulness and spice about her.

Noticing your change in focus, the man scooped you up and lifted you onto the bed. You wobbled a little on the mattress before batting at Alpine. She flipped over to play and you indulged her, playing as much as you could without putting the health of your leg in jeopardy.

“What’s the man’s name?” you asked, dodging her paw.

Alpine chirped back at you. Bucky, she said. That’s what the men on the phone always call him.

“The men on the phone?”

They call almost every day. He likes some of them. The others make him sad and angry.

You filed that information away for later use, and you were reaching out to block Alpine’s paw again when Bucky picked her up. He shifted her up near his pillow, then reached for you. On instinct, you backed away, your ears flattening when the metal of his arm glinted in the moonlight filtering in through the window.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Bucky soothed. “I won’t hurt you, remember?”

Another twinge of pain shot up your leg to your hip. You let out a sharp yelp when it twitched and hit the bedpost. Instantly, Bucky’s forehead creased in concern and he eased his flesh hand between your back and the wooden post.

“Easy now. I don’t want you falling off or hurting yourself more. You wanna get down off the bed? Is that what you want?”

You let out a slow breath and stared at him, forcing yourself to relax. You looked down at the floor and then at him in hopes that he would take that as a ‘yes’. When Bucky reached out and moved to pick you up again, you let him. He lowered you down onto the floor without another word. You scooted underneath the bed, closing your eyes when the feeling of being sheltered and safe settled into your bones.

“She’ll be okay, Alpine.”

Bucky’s voice was barely audible in the silence under the bed and you peeked open an eye, listening.

“She’s gotta be.”

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 2 months

Text

Breaking the Class Ceiling Chapter 2

This is set in early 1900s U.S.A., during the Edwardian era with some style changes into the upcoming Art Nouveau period. I've changed history a bit for this. Pretending that America didn't have a full Civil War and trying to create a more optimistic outcome for the purposes of the story. I've also tried to research what the rules for society/socializing were back then, and tweaked some of them.

Warnings for upcoming chapters: minor character death, some sexual harassment/assault (but nothing too graphic or traumatic), smut

***

You did what?!” George Barnes exclaimed. Bucky had gotten home late and reported everything to his father.

“What? You did something similar to Mama, didn’t you? And it worked! You married her!” Bucky explained.

“Yes, but at a great personal cost to her. She lost all the backing of her family, and we struggled for money and status,” George replied tiredly.

“I was trying to make an impression so she would remember me. She is going to send a card, an invitation to us to come visit and see her greenhouse.”

George gaped at him, his mouth flapping like a fish.

“Come now, Papa, this is a good thing! She may be rich but she’s not uppity or holier-than-thou. And she wants to show you her tropical plants,” he finished, waggling his eyebrows at his father.

George hesitantly smiled, “Tropical plants? How interesting,” he mused. “But I am still upset with you. That was a huge gamble to take, and in such a public place with high society.”

Bucky smirked. “And yet here we are,” he spread his arms wide. “With an official invitation and an excited host. Sometimes a little scandal is good. And I like her,” he looked away, blushing. “She’s…different.”

***

Three days later they received the invitation. You had insisted in the invitation that they meet casually, but George was beside himself, pulling out different outfits until he found one he decided was good enough to wear to meet you.

“Papa, she’s not the Queen of England,” Bucky said exasperatedly.

“No, but she was made a lady by her. And she is America’s princess,” George replied, adjusting his bowtie again. “Her mother and your mother were good friends, you know? She sent a letter of condolences when Winnie died, and I sent her one when her parents passed. I revere her, Buck, and she deserves respect.”

Bucky sighed as he thought about his mother. Winifred Barnes was as good as they came. When she passed the funeral was packed. The community had lined the streets, throwing flowers at her casket as it was brought to the cemetery. It had been difficult for Bucky when she died, but he was comforted in knowing that she had been so appreciated and loved.

“I understand, Papa. Now come, let’s get going. Her car is here.”

“Oh! Let’s be off!” George almost ran out the door.

When they pulled up to the house the flowers from the party were gone and replaced with vines that had peculiar flowers hanging from them. As they exited the car George gasped at the flower.

“Bucky! Do you know what this is?” he asked.

“No, it’s strange, isn’t it?” Bucky replied, watching his father go up to a vine hanging down by the front door.

“This is the lamprocapnos spectabilis, also known as a bleeding heart,” he spoke reverently as he gently inspected the flowers. “They originate from parts of Asia, I wonder how she got them here?”

“Very carefully, Mr. Barnes,” your voice lilted through the air behind them.

Bucky whipped around, a smile brightening his face as he took you in. You were much more casually dressed today in what could be considered bed clothes: a long, off-white night robe over a strapped smock dress. Your hands were covered in gardening gloves that you were quickly taking off, sweat on your brow, your hair in a loose braid that swung over your shoulder, and barefoot.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes,” you continued, reaching your hand out to him in greeting.

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Y/L/N,” George took your hand, bringing it up to his mouth for a quick kiss.

“Oh, so it runs in the family,” you joked, flashing Bucky smile. He blushed and looked down.

“I do apologize for my son’s brashness, Miss Y/L/N. I am a bad example to him,” George interjected.

“No apologies needed, I enjoy causing a scene. Makes life more exciting!” you giggled. You turned to Bucky, reaching your hand out to him for a greeting. He quickly took it but did not kiss your knuckles this time, feeling put on the spot about his actions from before.

“Hm, no kiss this time, Bucky?” you pouted, your fingers squeezing his minutely.

Bucky chuckled, then decided to have fun and cause the scene you wanted. He leaned in towards your face, swerving to the side to kiss your cheek quickly and pulled back. Your eyes were wide, your lips fighting a big smile and your fingers squeezing harder. George gasped lightly next to you.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N,” Bucky greeted you, squeezing your fingers back and then letting them fall.

You gave him a small hum, then twirled around to the door. “Come Mr. Barnes! I’ve been told you have quite the green thumb.”

You took George’s arm and led them both into the house. After walking through the front entrance and the ballroom, George looking around wildly as you chatted him up, you kept walking forward through the doors you’d entered at the party then took a sharp left. George was huffing as he tried to keep up, Bucky chuckling at his effort. As they walked through another set of doors the room was doused in sunlight. It was large and open, glass windows insulating what looked like hundreds of plants. Some were like trees, reaching high and almost touching the glass ceiling, while others were stout sitting in pots on tables. George gasped loudly as they entered, his eyes flitting around and trying to take in everything. Bucky gawked at the amount of plants, almost all of them looking more tropical and exotic then the next. He wasn’t a green thumb like his father, but he appreciated the amount of time, care, and money it took to get all of these here.

“My my, Miss Y/L/N, this is…” George trailed off, his arm tightening around yours. “How? These are all so…my god,” he couldn’t form a full sentence.

“I’m glad you like it,” you cheered, your hand holding his and squeezing it tightly. “Oh! I have to introduce you to someone,” you steered them over to a man that was hidden amongst the plants. As they approached he straightened up and dusted off his hands. He had olive toned skin, dark brown eyes and a full black beard, a white turban atop his head, and a floor length dress that matched the colors of the green plants around him. He gave them all a polite smile.

“Mr. Barnes, Bucky,” you pointed to each of them, “this is Amir Habib. He’s my good friend and gardener. He hails from an area in the Ottoman empire called Falasteen, or on our maps, Palestine,” you explained.

“Hello, as-salaam 'alaikum,” Amir greeted them as he bowed at the waist, then stepped forward, extending his hand to each man in turn. After the greetings he turned back towards the plants.

“Amir, would you please show Mr. Barnes around? He is quite interested in plants.”

Amir’s eyes lit up as he looked at George again. “Yes of course, Mr. Barnes, where would you like to start?”

“Anywhere!” George laughed, following Amir as they walked further into the greenhouse, leaving you and Bucky behind.

You turned to Bucky with a wide smile. “I’m sure they’ll be busy for a while, I’d like to show you something else if you don’t mind?”

Bucky nodded, following her out of the greenhouse and back into the main house. She walked through the halls into what looked like a study, ushering Bucky inside and shutting the door behind him, then walking to the desk by the bay window. He stood and waited for her to instruct him, looking around at all the books and papers. It was a little messy, reminding him of his office at work, but something about it was endearing amongst the grand decor.

“Ah, here it is,” you announced, pulling a book from one of the drawers. “Come, sit with me,” you instructed and led him to a couch near the fireplace across the room from the desk. He followed you and sat an appropriate distance away from you, which you ignored and sat closer to him. You opened the book, flipping through a few pages before landing on one and handing the book over to him. He took it and upon realizing what he was looking at almost dropped it. It was a photograph book, multiple different black and white images staring back up at him. And on this particular page was a larger photo of two young women, both beautiful and smiling softly. He didn’t recognize the one on the left, but the one on the right was his mother.

Her eyes were bright, the smile she wore lopsided, her hands intertwined with the woman’s next to her. She was dressed in the style of the time, a large hat on her head and pearls around her throat. She was much younger than he could ever remember seeing her, and he’d never seen those pearls before. This must have been before she married his father.

“That’s my mother,” you pointed to the woman on the left, speaking quietly. Bucky focused on the other woman briefly. Yes, he could tell it was your mother. You were almost the spitting image of her but with a differently shaped face and differently colored hair, thanks to your father. He could feel himself smiling as he gazed at the picture.

“They’re beautiful,” he whispered, one of his fingers running gently across the face of his mother.

You hummed in agreement. “My mother always spoke in such kindness about your mother. Always hoped that we’d be able to come home someday and call upon her, but my father was always so busy in England and preferred it there. They were childhood friends. She called her her soulmate,” she said wistfully. “She was inconsolable when she heard about Winifred passing,” she added quietly. “Wouldn’t get out of bed for weeks. And then when she died a couple of years later, all I could think of was how at least now she gets to spend the afterlife with her soulmate.”

Bucky didn’t realize he was crying until he felt your fingers swipe along his cheek. He looked up at you, and saw you were blinking back unshed tears.

“Thank you, Y/N, for letting me see this. I had almost forgotten what she looked like,” he said, looking back at the picture.

“Of course. I’ve already commissioned a local painter to do a portrait of her from this photograph so I can give you a copy,” you said matter-of-factly.

Bucky’s eyes widened as he looked back up at you, his mouth hanging open. “Oh, you don’t have to do that Y/N, really,” he retorted, wiping away his tears and facing towards her.

“Pish posh, yes I do,” you waved him off then took one of his hands in yours and fully faced him. “It’s the least I could do.”

“I feel like I need to do something for you,” Bucky replied, looking down bashfully at your intertwined hands.

“Can you not accept a gift? Just because someone wants to give you something doesn’t mean you owe them anything in return, Bucky,” you chastised him, eyes earnestly boring into his.

He snorted. “That’s very kind of you, Y/N, and I appreciate the gift. I just don’t have a great history with people who have helped me and then not expected something back, or favors.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you said sadly. “How about this, I will give this to you, and you can do something for me?”

“Like what?” he asked hesitantly.

“I want you to…” you trailed off, looking around the room and thinking about it. “Hm, two things.”

“Oh dear,” he huffed.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” you laughed. “What I want is one: for you to accompany me to Mrs. Romanov’s invitation to see the vaudeville show. She said she knows you and would love to have you?” she asked questioningly. Bucky’s smile dropped at the name. “Oh, you do know her…and well apparently?” you asked, a sly smile on your face.

Bucky huffed again. “Yes, we um, were courting once. We’re still friends, of course,” he added.

You nodded in understanding. “But she married someone else.”

“Yes,” he said curtly.

You eyed him for a moment, dropping his hand. “Do you still love her?”

“No! No no,” Bucky quickly reassured you. “No, I’m sorry, my reply made it seem so. It’s just that I…uh,” he wrung his hands.

You stood up suddenly and walked to the chair that faced the couch, taking a seat. “Bucky, if it isn’t obvious to you yet let me make myself abundantly clear,” you started, setting your hands in your lap, one of the sleeves of your robe falling down and exposing your shoulder. Bucky watched it fall, quickly flicking his eyes back up to yours when you didn’t immediately fix it. You eyed him ruefully, leaving the sleeve and pursing your lips. “I am not a lover of propriety and etiquette, as I’m sure you have been able to ascertain. I find it incredibly stifling. I do not enjoy watching my words and actions, and so I will speak plainly and frankly. I am a wealthy woman, and therefore I can get away with sherking societal norms and expectations, whereas most other women don't have the same luxury. I can marry whomever I want without the permission or acceptance of any other men in my life, as much as that pains my uncle. If it hasn’t been made clear, and as I’ve said before, I enjoy your candor,” you reminded him. Your eyes never left him as you spoke. “I enjoy when others can meet me where I’m at, speak plainly with me and make their intentions clear. I do not play courting games. You made your intentions clear at the party, and although it caused a stir, I liked it,” your eyes brightened at the memory. Bucky swallowed harshly. “I came home because I’m getting older, and need to find someone to make a life with, create a family with to hand down my fortune and help me make a difference in this world. Out of all the men I’ve met over the past few weeks since coming home, the one that I find most interesting and enjoyable, is you.” Bucky could feel his heart thumping wildly as he listened. She liked him, too. “I know that your association with me gives you and your father a leg up in society, and that it gives you clout and opens doors for you. If we were to court, it would be a great advantage to you. I’m under no pretense to how this looks, and I quite frankly don’t care. Now if you still hold a candle for another woman, married or not, now is the time to tell me so that I may move on and look elsewhere. I don’t want to waste my time,” you ended briskly, looking away to the fireplace as you leaned back into the chair.

Bucky quickly stood and walked to where you sat, kneeling down before you and taking your hands into his. “No, Y/N, no I don’t love her. I did at one point, but no longer. My reaction is solely based on the fact that, as you said, any union I make must be advantageous to me, otherwise my father and I will struggle til our dying days. I courted her hoping for that and was ultimately rejected because of my class, so it’s merely my own frustration getting the better of me. I did act brashly at your party, and it was on purpose to catch your attention, but I agree that it’s suffocating, and I feel free with you to express myself fully. I don’t want to waste your time,” he finished, his fingers rubbing your knuckles.

You watched him, delighting in his kneeling form before you. You smirked, leaning forward in the chair towards him. Bucky willed himself not to move, letting you get close to his face, swallowing harshly again.

“So you’ll come with me to the show?” you asked playfully.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Hm,” you hummed, then your eyes slowly looked him up and down. He felt like he was melting under your stare. “Now for my second request,” you reminded him. “I want to court you.”

Bucky felt like the air was being sucked from his lungs. You waited for him to process your proposal. He felt a smirk come to his face now.

“You sure you want to court a clerk?” he teased.

You laughed loudly at him, falling back into the chair again, your hands dropping his and holding your chest as you giggled gleefully. He enjoyed watching you laugh so freely, his hands resting on the chair cushion beside your knees as you collected yourself.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you said, leaning back up towards him.

“Then I say yes, my lady,” he smiled widely at you.

You grimaced. “Ugh, no, please don’t call me that, just my name will suffice.”

“As much as I enjoy calling you by your name, in public as we court it might do us well to call each other something else, a pet name, don’t you think?” Bucky interjected.

“You think so? Like what? Should I call you my dear?” you reached out and tucked a hair behind his ear. He shivered at the tickle of your fingers against his skin. “Or…my darling?” you purred, your fingers slipping to his jaw. Bucky’s eyes shut tight, his hands balling into fists beside your legs. “Ah, my darling, it suits you,” you scratched the stubble on his chin. “What will you call me?”

Bucky breathed slowly through his nose trying to calm himself. He didn’t realize that a pet name would have such an effect on him. He opened his eyes and met your stare. Your eyes were shining mirthfully, the smirk still on your face.

“What words could possibly do you justice?” Bucky spoke slowly. The smirk on your face dropped. “All the pretty words I could think of would not be enough to describe what I think of you. Would you prefer my beloved?” he slid one of his hands to your knee, squeezing the flesh of your lower thigh. You gasped lightly, your eyes following his movements. “My intended?” he slid his other hand over your other knee, mirroring his actions from before. Your hands fell to cover his. “Or something more intimate. Maybe, my pretty doll?” Your face scrunched into something that screamed lust, your fingers gripping your legs as he started to slide his hands down, hooking them around your calves and tickling the back of your legs. Your faces were dangerously close now as you stared into each others’ eyes. Bucky looked from your eyes to your lips, a smirk now on his face. “That’s it, my pretty doll.” He leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek like before but this time precariously close to your mouth, letting his lips stay on your skin longer. You followed his lips slightly as he pulled away.

“We should go check on my father,” he whispered, his fingers still tickling your legs.

You closed your eyes, your hands now in fists as you evened out your breathing, trying to regain control.

“Yes,” you sighed, obviously frustrated, “wouldn’t want anyone thinking something untoward is happening.”

“Yes, but no,” Bucky chuckled as he pulled his hands away and rocked back on his feet. “I need to end this teasing torture before I do something that I shouldn’t.”

Your eyes twinkled as you opened them at his insinuation, a coy smile on your lips as you stood from the chair. “Ah, I see. Well come then, my darling, before I tempt you to sin. We must announce our courtship.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes x reader

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anonymityisfunwriter · 10 months

Note

I'm so in love with your stories, especially the Grumpy Sunshine Series got me🤩 so I got a request for it, hope like it.

Could you write a sick Sunshine fic, with Bucky being his grumpy self :D after a mission went not as good as planed, leaving Sunshine being thrown into a nearly frozen lake, they are now back at home. Bucky is pissed making Sunshine responsible for the difficulties they had at the mission, when in fact he's only pissed that got thrown into thr cold lake being hurt. Sunshine is slowly feeling ill, getting worse with the hours. Deathly pale with a raging fever she stumbles out of her bedroom searching for help in her semi conscious state...

She ends up having a severe pneumonia and Bucky and the guys worriedly taking care of her. Bucky regretting is cruel behavior towards to and not noticing you feeling this sick.

I really hope you like it, you wonderful writer

If I had a nickel for every time that Sunshine gets hypothermia in this series, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but it is strange that it happened twice. 😂

Listen, I love this. I love this so much. I'm very sorry that this took so long, but I wanted to get it right. I hope you love it and thank you so, so much for the request! 💛

(seriously guys, never stop sending me requests, they're so much fun)

Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader Part of The Grumpy x Sunshine Series

Bleeding Time

Hours.

Minutes.

Seconds.

Bucky knew how important every one of them was.

Time was a commodity, the most valuable of resources. A luxury not offered to many.

It was so fleeting.

He knew that. He knew it well.

Bleeding time was the most fatal of injuries. Hemorrhaging seconds was lethal. Allowing minutes to slip through your fingers like the sands of time was deadly.

So there he stands, raking through his mind, trying to figure out how long he'd left you to bleed?

As he stands in a hospital room, listening to the doctor talk and overwhelm him with questions, he can't help but wonder how he squandered so much of that precious time.

"Mr. Barnes?"

"Yes," Bucky immediately responds, his eyes snapping back to the doctor. "Yes, I was with her the whole day. I can tell you what happened."

"The more we know, the better we can determine what course of action to take."

"Of course," Bucky agrees, a hollow look on his face as he stands at the foot of your hospital bed. "I remember every minute of it."

He remembers every hour, every minute, every second of it.

And he remembers wasting every single one of them.

The first minute was probably the most terrifying minute of his life. He'd faced life and death before, but this wasn't his life hanging in the balance.

It was yours.

"I regret everything!" you shout, holding onto the landing bar of the helicopter for dear life. "I regret it all!"

"Tell me you are not on that helicopter!" Bucky demands, hearing the commotion from your unmuted comms.

"Joke's on you, I'm not on the helicopter!" you triumphantly exclaim, dangling from the landing bar hundreds of feet in the air.

Before Bucky can breathe a sigh of relief that you weren't aboard an enemy helicopter, you finish your sentence, "I'm hanging from the helicopter."

"What?" Bucky bellows. "That was not part of the plan! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking, hey, the files that we needed are on the helicopter. I'm watching it take off," you audibly walk him through your impulsive thought process. "Hey, I should go after it. And now, I'm winging everything else."

From there, all Bucky can hear is a chaotic cacophony of sounds. He assumes it's a general struggle as you try to pull yourself aboard a helicopter full of HYDRA agents who probably wouldn't be the most welcoming to you.

"Sam? Do you have visual?" Bucky curtly asks.

"Every time I try I keep getting coming under heavy fire. Can't get up there long enough to see what's happening," Sam explains, doing his best to weave through the thick forest surrounding the HYDRA base. Every time he soared high, bullets were immediately trying to shoot him down.

"I need someone to take out those guns," Bucky orders whatever available SHIELD agent is closest. "We need to see what's happening!"

"On it, Sergeant," an agent whose name keeps evading Bucky's mind responds.

"She's on the helicopter, Buck!" Sam calls, only able to pop up from the tree line for a short moment before he has to duck back down for cover.

Bucky hears your muffled voice come through the comms again, "If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me!"

"I'm trying to get down to the shoreline as quickly as I can," Bucky states, sprinting as quickly as he can from the base.

It was five miles, but even as a super soldier, that meant it would take at least another five minutes before anyone could even try to help you.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!" you prattle to the HYDRA agent. "Did not mean to do -"

"Doll?" Bucky shouts when your voice cuts out.

Sam, without much regard for his own safety, pops up from the tree line again, "Oh my God..."

"What?" Bucky frantically demands.

"They're both hanging now. She's holding on and he's got her leg," Sam quickly rattles off. Before whispering in horror, "He's gonna take her down with him."

"Let go," you yell, your words punctuated by desperate thrashing of your legs as you once again dangle from the helicopter. "I don't have the upper body strength for this!"

"Just hang on!" Sam shouts, dodging the bullets that rain down on him. "I'm on my way!"

"I'm trying!" you cry.

Sam immediately sees that you're fighting a losing battle. Your grip is slipping from the landing bar, your fingertips straining to hold both yourself and a tenacious HYDRA agent up.

Bucky didn't really know what it was from: Sam getting clipped in the arm from another flurry of bullets or the fact that Sam had a front row seat to his best friend fall hundreds of feet into a icy lake, but Bucky had never heard such a bloodcurdling scream come from Sam until the moment your grip failed you and you fell.

Minute 1

"What just happened?!" Bucky desperately screams. "Sam, what just happened?!"

"She fell, they both fell into the lake," Sam panics, still soaring through the sky to get to you as quickly as he can.

"Do you see her? Sam, tell me you see her!" Bucky demands.

"No! No! I can't see anything. The water isn't clear enough, there's ice everywhere!" Sam scans over the lake, looking through the general area of where you fell as quickly as you can.

The dark blue, murky waters are unforgiving.

Thin sheets of ice float along the restless waves.

There's no sign of you anywhere.

"Sam!" Bucky screams.

Minute 2

That second minute started much like the first one. His heart raced as ice flowed through his veins. He pushed himself to run even faster, faster than he'd ever ran in his life and it still wasn't enough.

"Sam!"

"I'm trying! I can't see anything!"

Bucky feels like he can't breathe, his heart aches, yet races faster than he's ever felt it.

He couldn't imagine this being the end for you. He wouldn't accept that. He'd search every inch of that lake until you were found if he had to.

This couldn't be it.

He can almost see the shoreline through the forest. He's almost there.

But it's been over a minute. You've gone more than an entire minute without oxygen. That's the average a person could last underwater, he knows.

He pushes himself even harder, his muscles on fire as he forces himself to run faster and faster.

Just as you hit that two minute mark, Sam shouts, "She broke through. I see her!"

Minute 4

There was so much commotion happening over the next two minutes that it all just felt like static in Bucky's ear.

"I've got her," Sam exhaustedly pants, "She's alright. I got her."

Bucky clutches his chest, practically doubling over in relief. He stands on the shoreline, watching as Sam fishes you from an icy lake.

"She's okay," Sam repeats, wincing as you violently cough and sputter out lake water. "I got her."

It didn't take much more than the visual of Sam pulling you out of a frozen lake for Bucky to call this mission an epic failure.

The flash drive containing the names of HYDRA operatives was gone with the man who'd fallen into the lake with you.

The computers were all destroyed.

The base was in ruins with any and all records completely destroyed.

The love of his life had almost died for nothing, a life nearly thrown away in complete vain.

It was a disaster.

It was his disaster.

As mission leader, this was Bucky's mess.

The warm relief that overtook him, steeled itself, burning to a degree far beyond comfort, boiling over into white hot rage.

Minute 14

It took an almost ten minute trek in the icy Siberian forest to get back to the Quinjet.

In that time, Bucky's rage took over.

With each passing minute, he ruminated, allowing his anger to stew just above a raging boil. You always were so careless with your life. So willing to push past your limits, so willing to put yourself in danger.

But this, this was too much. This time you'd gone too far.

How long before your antics became more than even you could handle?

And what was he supposed to do when that day came? How could he ever come to accept a world without you because of you? What would he ever do if he had to live in a world where there was no you? You weren't tempting fate in Bucky's mind, you were taunting it, begging fate to take you away from him.

Bucky doesn't stop to remind himself that you're okay or that he was working himself into a blind rage over hypotheticals and worse case scenarios.

He barked orders at anyone that had the displeasure of getting in his way.

You kept quiet, still soaking wet in your mission gear. You and Sam walked side by side, uncharacteristically quiet as you fled the enemy territory without a single victory.

A part of you felt awful, you knew you were part of the reason things became so chaotic with the way you strayed so far from the plan.

"I cannot fucking believe this!" Bucky fumes in the Quinjet, pacing back and forth as your team, batter, bruised, and some pretty seriously injured, slink up the ramp. "What the hell happened out there?"

Everyone remains quiet, tensed and ready for the ugly lecture you were all going to get for today's disaster.

It was always difficult when a mission went awry, but with Bucky acting as mission leader today, you knew he was going to be even more upset.

You knew this assignment meant a lot to him. This one was high risk, but also high reward.

The names of old HYDRA operatives that were allegedly living amongst the general population.

It meant a lot to him, still, you really didn't expect him to take it out on everyone aboard.

Especially not when everyone was still tending to their wounds, not while everyone was still rattled, battered and bruised.

Apparently, that didn't matter.

Apparently, it didn't change that Bucky was on a warpath.

Minute 16

"Here, let me wrap this for you. It looks pretty bad," you offer to Sam, sitting down on the seat next to him to fix the nasty bullet graze down his arm.

"Maybe you should change first," Sam suggests, shying away from the frosty feeling of your fingertips on his skin, "It was a long walk back, you've got to be freezing."

You were, but as you look around the jet to your other team mates, you decide that you're the least injured of everyone.

At least, the least visibly injured.

After all, what were some wet clothes when your best friend was clipped by a bullet, when your team mates were nursing broken bones, knife wounds, and other awful injuries.

"I didn't bring a change of clothes, I wasn't exactly planning on going for a swim today," you dryly remark, opening the first aid kit.

"You really should go change out of those wet clothes," Sam insists.

"I'm fine, Sam. You're the one dripping blood everywhere," you remind him, a hint of a chuckle threaded in your words, ignoring the involuntary shivers now wracking up and down your arms.

"Don't even get me started on you two," Bucky suddenly lectures you and Sam, startling both of you. You mostly ignore Bucky as you wry to clean Sam's wound. You tried not to take his anger personally, he had every right to be upset. You just never thought he would be so casually cruel about it, "You were both irresponsible, reckless, impulsive. I don't have enough adjectives to describe the shit you two pulled today- "

"Will you ease up?" you shoot back, fed up with the name calling. "We did our best!"

"Your best?" Bucky dismissively scoffs. He angrily fumes, "That was your best? Getting dumped into a freezing lake and needing Sam to rescue you is your best?"

There was often this misconception about you and Bucky. It wasn't entirely unfounded and not entirely untrue.

The misconception was that you didn't fight.

It was somewhat true.

In your personal lives, you two rarely fought. You were both very well suited to each other. You both balanced each other out.

But working with your significant other was hard.

And working with your significant other when you were both working high risk missions and assignments that constantly put your lives on the line, paired with completely different personalities was even harder.

There was an agreement between the two of you that your work and personal lives had to remain separate.

Your work and personal lives were neatly compartmentalized and mostly left at the door.

But, that also meant, that on an occasion or two, you and Bucky would get into a fight or two at work.

Sometimes, you felt like Bucky was too harsh, too abrasive, too unwilling to compromise or make amendments to his stringent plans.

Sometimes, Bucky thought that you were too impulsive, too willing to march to the beat of your own drum.

Unlike some of your team mates, you weren't scared of Bucky. You weren't afraid to stand up to him when you felt like his temper was getting the best of him. Sometimes, it worked and it would snap Bucky out of his mood.

Today, it made things much worse.

"Oh, no," Sam worriedly sighs.

You abruptly stand up, bitterly chuckling in disbelief, "Are you implying that what happened was my fault?"

"Maybe we should all just -" Sam tries to interject, holding the gauze to his arm.

"Stay out of it!" you both shout at Sam.

With wide eyes, Sam slumps down in his seat, "Alrighty, then."

"I wasn't implying it," Bucky snarks back.

You scoff, "Please tell me you're joking!"

"If the shoe fits," Bucky retorts. "Funny, how you're the only one that didn't stick to the plan."

"Don't say it, don't say it,' Sam whispers to himself.

"Maybe if you hadn't rushed into today, we would have known what was waiting for us!" you accuse.

"And you said it," Sam quietly groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he further shrinks down in his seat.

"I'm done with this conversation," Bucky seethes. "You can take it up with Tony and Fury."

"Fine!"

"Fine," Bucky grimaces, storming away from you.

Minute 18

"You're shaking," Sam worriedly comments as you finish bandaging up the gash on his arm.

"With rage."

Sam rolls his eyes as you glare at the back of Bucky's head, "I'm serious. That lake was practically frozen. It's been almost twenty minutes, you're gonna get sick."

"I'm fine, Sam."

"If you're not going to go change, can you at least go sit with Bucky? He's like a human furnace."

You cross your arms over your chest, "I'm not sitting with him after he blamed me for today."

"You're being stubborn," Sam points out. "Please don't make me call him back here."

"Just let me finish this bandage and I'll go find something to change into."

It takes less than a minute for you to finish tying the bandage around Sam's bullet wound.

Minute 20

"You don't look so good," Sam warns when you amble back over to the seat beside him, "I thought you went to go find clothes!"

"I did. I only found this - this thermal blanket," you explain through chattering teeth.

"Those only work if you're still producing body heat!" Sam frantically states. He snatches your hand taking note of the blueish hue forming on the very tips of your fingers and the purplish hue of your lips. "Bucky!"

"Wha-" Bucky's word falters as he watches you huddled up under the thermal blanket. "Jesus, why haven't you changed yet?"

Your breath catches in your throat as you try to speak. The words he's saying go over your head.

You blink up at him, confused.

You keen at the feeling of Bucky's searing hand on your pulse point. You shake your head, trying to focus on why he looks so distressed. You don't like the look on his face. Your eyebrows pull together, upset that you can't pinpoint why he's so upset.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Suddenly, it feels like you're back in that lake. With water encasing your ears, you can hardly hear Bucky's frantic pleas to you. As you sink further and further, the light slowly fades away.

His warm hands grip your chin, once again, you sink into his touch, smiling up at him. Your eyelids flutter shut at the comforting feeling surrounding you. He gently shakes your head, tapping at your cheek, "Hey, hey, your heart rate is slowing down, whatever you do, I need you to keep your eyes open, okay?"

Each time you reach out for the surface, it slips just out of your grasp. Bucky's voice pleads with you, but you just keep sinking. Further and further until it's nothing more than a distant echo.

The darkness wraps around you life a warm blanket, it feels so good, so right.

It doesn't matter how much you fight it, it was always a losing battle.

There's no escape as it all goes dark.

Hour 94

The whole time, he refuses to leave your side. His comfort, his well being, it all takes a backseat.

Not because he feels himself drowning in guilt, though that was very much the case, but because fear had not loosened its grip on his heart.

He uses this time sitting beside your motionless body as an opportunity to torment himself. He thinks about all the mistakes he made, all the things he said.

All he can think is that if this was really it, if you didn't make it, his last real words to you would be him shouting at you, blaming you for what happened.

You must've been scared out of your mind. Falling out of a helicopter like that, you must've been terrified. Getting trapped underneath the ice for two minutes. On the trek back to the jet.

And he didn't once ask you if you were okay.

He didn't make sure that you'd changed out of your soaked clothing. He didn't check to make sure you were properly warming up. What kind of partner was that, he asks himself. What kind of boyfriend would let his concern turn into rage and frustration aimed at the person he almost lost?

And now, now, he really was losing you.

You lie there, he holds your hand. It's been that way for almost four days. It felt like his entire world, his entire heart had been torn to shreds.

Your temperature was finally back to normal. When they first brought you in, it was too low. Then, once they'd brought it up, a respiratory infection sent your temperature soaring.

Now, it was back to normal. Bucky could hold your hand and feel your normal warmth. The nurses mostly left him alone, usually tip toeing around him as they checked your vitals over and over again.

The nurses keep looking at him with a growing pity in their eyes. It's been four days, you've yet to wake up.

Bucky knows what they're thinking. He knows that they see him as the delusional boyfriend convinced that you'll make a miraculous recovery.

He reconciles that there was some truth to that. He did think there was going to be a miraculous recovery.

Those nurses didn't know you. He did. He knew you were a fighter. He internally curses himself for that cliche. He can't bring himself to care. If cliches were all he had, then he would take it.

So he tends to you, all in anticipation for the moment that you wake. Because you will, you will wake up. You'll wake up and he'll beg for forgiveness. He'll beg forever if that's what you want, he just needs you to wake up.

So he does it all, everything he can and more.

Reads you that book that you've been trying to finish for weeks now.

Fresh flowers by your bedside.

Plays your favorite songs over and over again.

He even made Sam go get your lucky shirt from the Compound. He's never believed that an inanimate object could be lucky, but you did, so he will for you too.

His head rests in your lap, slowly dozing off with your book in his hand, still unfinished.

After days without sleep, he drifts off quickly to a dreamland where you are awake, where you're still holding him, laughing with him. It's a nice reprieve after four days of hell.

Hour 95

You eyelids flutter, still heavy from exhaustion. Your eyes still closed, you take a breath though your aching lungs beg you not to. You creak open a bleary eye at the incessant beeping from beside you.

The fluorescent lights above you startle you, forcing both eyes open. You immediately look down to Bucky, fast asleep with his light snores filling the room. You smile down at him, resting your head back down on your pillow to avoid waking him.

Sore muscles and exhaustion still bog you down, but you can't resist gently carding your fingers through Bucky's unruly hair. You quietly chuckle as he keens at the affection, sleepily groaning with a tired smile, "Hmm..."

His eyes whirl open at the sound of your laugh. His head snaps up off your lap and he just stares at you for a moment, not entirely convinced that he isn't still dreaming.

You sleepily sigh, head still back against your pillow, "Are you still mad?"

"Oh my God," he whispers. He surprises you by immediately standing up, sending the backwards. He bends down, carefully avoiding your IV, he kisses your temple, murmuring against your skin, "You're awake. Thank God, you're awake. I'm sorry, so, so, sorry."

You raise your hand, running it over Bucky's stubbly jaw, "Hi."

A laugh of relief bubbles out of his mouth, relishing in the feeling of your warm hand caressing his face, "Hi."

"How long was I out?" you wonder, surprised at Bucky's reaction.

"Four days."

"Four days?" you squawk.

"You hit the water pretty hard according to the doctor," Bucky begins to explain. "There was some bruising on your ribs and lungs. By the time we got you here, you were severely hypothermic and for the last few days they've been treating you for a respiratory infection."

You humorously snort, "Well, now no one can ever say that I never took one for the team."

"That's not funny," Bucky deadpans, a frown pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You could've died out there. I - You - You almost died out there."

You take his hand, pressing the palm of his hand to your lips, "It's alright. I'm okay."

"No, it's not alright." He fervently shakes his head, anger once again seeps into his words. This time, he's careful to direct that anger at the person that deserves it: himself. He was to blame for this whole mess. "You got hurt, which is bad enough. Even worse, it was all for nothing. You got hurt for nothing."

"It wasn't for nothing," you interject.

Bucky's eyebrows furrow, "What?"

"Do you have the sweater I was wearing?"

"It's right here," Bucky grabs the sweater, all your mission gear in a bag set beside him. "Are you cold? I can get you another blanket, or I can call the nurse - I should call the nurse actually."

You grab his hand, halting him. "I'm fine. Promise."

He hands you your jacket with a puzzled expression, "Then, why-"

You stick your hand in your pocket, fumbling around for a moment, "Here it is."

"What?"

You take your hand out of your pocket, revealing the flash drive to Bucky, "It wasn't for nothing, James."

You truly never ceased to surprise him, Bucky softly gasps, "How did you get that?"

"The HYDRA agent, he dropped it when we hit the water," you sheepishly shrug. "I saw it sinking so I swam down to get it."

Bucky can hardly fathom it.

From what the doctor said, the way you hit the water was enough to do incredible amounts of physical damage. From the amount of time you were down there, they deduced that you'd gotten stuck under a sheet of ice or the hit had rendered you momentarily unconscious.

Then, there was the icy lake, he knew every second of swimming in that water must've felt like daggers against your skin.

Risking getting caught underneath thick ice, you swam down to save the mission. He can't believe that you actually swam down, “You swam down?”

“I knew how much it meant to you. I saw it and I went for it.”

You extend the thumb drive out to him, “I didn't say anything because I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it didn’t work anymore, but it wasn't for nothing. It was for you.”

He pushes your extended hand away. Instead, pulling you into his crushing embrace, “You mean more to me. So much more.”

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real-jane · 2 years

Text

everything, everything

[steve rogers x female reader]

summary: steve and his partner are undercover on assignment, hiding out as husband and wife. the line between reality and fiction is too thin, and steve can't take much more.

warnings: steve is v dumb, pining/longing/etc, smut, canon level violence, smut, and also some smut is in it.

a/n: thank you to @sanguineterrain for the original prompt: "How about a Steve x reader who have to go undercover as a married couple and oh NO, they're pining for each other and don't know it! Whatever shall they do?! 😳😏"

enjoy!

He’s too stunned to move when the doorbell rings, so she slips between Steve and the counter with pink-stung lips and hastens to answer it. All the air in the room rushes out with her.

She’s not supposed to kiss me when nobody is around to see her do it.

Three weeks. It’s only been three agonizing weeks. When did the fiction bleed into reality? When did his hands start aching to reach for her?

‘You get along so well already,’ Bucky had said, ‘it will be nice to be undercover with someone who doesn’t get on your nerves.’ Except… Steve has never had less clarity in his entire life, especially not now, after she kissed the daylights out of him.

The smoke detector is his only saving grace. The pancakes he got up early to make for breakfast are charred beyond recognition, and he throws open the window to let out the smoke… and whatever hot air is keeping his brain from actually processing.

“Everything okay, baby?” she calls from the front room. Steve clenches his jaw.

“Wouldn’t you know it–I burned breakfast,” he replies, in as chipper a tone as he can manage.

“That’s why my husband doesn’t go anywhere near the kitchen. I’m surprised you let him try, Betsy.” Ugh. Sharon. Her husband is on a permanent business trip to live with his other family, a fact that SHIELD had uncovered in the process of vetting the neighborhood. Wayne Carter is also a very good cook. Sharon Carter puts on a haughty face for a woman who hasn’t seen her husband in nine months. Betsy… the alias his partner wears like the Southern Belle she most certainly isn't… she hates Sharon, but she’s a good actress.

“Oh, Steve’s a wonderful cook! But I was distracting him.”

His ‘wife’s’ little giggle is enough to make Steve snap the spatula in half. He stares at the bisected plastic in shock.

“Bex, what do you say I take you out for breakfast?” Steve rubs his jaw and gives up on the pan, which is entirely unsalvageable. “Mimosas and crepes, yeah?”

“Steven Rogers, you’re gonna spoil me rotten.”

“Impossible.”

Steve can’t stop the panic rising in his chest. It isn’t supposed to be like this. She’s a fantastic agent, and that’s all. God–he wants to kiss her until she can’t pretend anymore. He needs to have the upper hand, to retain just one ounce of professionalism as Captain fucking America. People know who he is. He’s on assignment. They aren’t married for real.

And yet.

Realization washes over him and he leans against the counter in despair.

Every evening, when she bids him ‘goodnight’, he hopes that she skips past the first bedroom and finds her way to his. Cooking for her? His favorite part of every day. He’s googled so many recipes that the app suggests fancy breakfast food. He wears that one blue shirt as often as he can because she smiled the first time he did.

Coming ‘home’ is his only source of comfort, because she is always standing on the porch… waiting. Sometimes a neighbor is talking with her; she’s so kind that it has been easy ingratiating themselves into the neighborhood. Nine times out of ten, she’s got a glass of lemonade in hand, slick with condensation, waiting for him. It’s the weekends that are most torturous, when he has no reason to be out of her presence. Like this particular Saturday morning.

It’s very easy to forget why they’re there. They’re so close to uncovering the ring–she fills him in on the dirt she’s dug up while playing cards, or gardening, or just gossiping with the ladies each day. The women on this street tell her things that he’s struggled to weasel out of hardened criminals. Steve is fairly certain he’s going to burst into flames before they succeed in this assignment. He’s ashamed of himself. She doesn’t deserve some sicko fixating on her, especially not her partner. He’s a public figure, for Christ’s sake! He’s better than this.

Her hand presses against the small of his back. Steve starts and wheels on her. She bites back a smile at the sight of him, and raises a hand to his cheek.

“You look like you’ve been sweeping the chimney,” she laughs.

He steps away, out of her grasp. “I’ll just get cleaned up, if you wanna go.”

“Oh. You really wanna go out for breakfast?” The surprise in her voice stabs him square in the chest.

“Why not?” he shrugs. “I destroyed the good pan anyway.”

“Are you okay?”

No. Absolutely not, under no circumstances. “What did Sharon want?” He still hasn’t looked her in the eye.

“She went through Zemo’s garbage,” she says, as if she’s impressed by Sharon’s gall. “She found like twenty packs of cold medicine.”

His head snaps up. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. She’s got the bags in her garage, she texted me a picture, too. Look.” She holds up her cell phone and sure enough, a black trash bag filled with boxes of off-brand medicine fills the screen. “This is what we’ve been waiting for, Steve.”

“Oh my god…” he can’t help but laugh in astonishment. “This is reason enough for a warrant.”

“I already sent Fury the photo. Can you believe it?”

He wants so badly to pull her into his arms and hold on for dear life. Because if they’ve truly uncovered the lynch pin of the whole organization, then their days playing house are numbered. Worse than loving her is the thought of no longer getting to pretend, and hang all his hopes on precious public displays of affection. You two look so in love, one of the neighbors had said during their welcome block party. Steve had his arm wrapped around her shoulders then, because being the facsimile of a married couple was still too new to know how to comfortably interact in a way that seemed real. She lets herself be kissed by him with a sweet smile on her face, now. Her fingers always entwine with his, especially when they’re over at someone else’s house.

For one brief second, Steve considers how easy it would be to steal the bags from Sharon’s garage and destroy the evidence… but what would his partner think of him if she found out what he had done? Maybe that was the best way to push away these embarrassing feelings–push her away. Make them strangers, again.

“Steve–hey!” She snaps in front of his face. “What’s wrong with you?”

He shakes his head, but the heat which floods his cheeks is mortifying. “I slept weird. Not fully awake yet.”

She frowns. “Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll order breakfast in, and we can wait for Fury’s directive.”

“I don’t need to lay down,” he says quickly. “I’m fine.”

“You keep zoning out–”

“I said I’m fine, so I’m fine.”

“...why are you being like this?” She crosses her arms, leaning against the counter. “You’re pissy.”

“Can you just leave it alone?” he sighs.

“We’re in deep cover and you want me to ignore it? I’m gonna nag you until you communicate, Rogers–”

“You’re not entitled to every little thought in my head, alright?” Steve throws his hands up in the air. “This is a sham marriage, remember? Stop pushing me and accept that I don’t want to talk, I’m fine.”

She opens her mouth to press the matter, but thinks better of it. She looks away and nods, but she breathes in raggedly. “Well fuck me, I guess. Fuck my feelings. Crepes?”

Steve’s heart plummets through the tile floor as she turns away to leave the kitchen. He lunges before he can stop himself and grasps her wrist, staying her exit. Words clog his throat. She waits with one eyebrow raised, but when he can’t make the apology come, she rips her hand from his. Steve is left with the horrible feeling that he has ruined everything good between them… the real rapport they’ve built sharing an assignment, and the fake one which allows her to touch him freely where anyone can see.

And kiss him where they can’t.

He waits for her on the front porch in blue, having scrubbed the pancake ash from his face. She emerges from the house in a sundress. The light pink one which always robs him of sanity. For a moment her face is stony, but then her expression lightens to exuberance and she waves–beyond Steve, to the passing neighbor on the sidewalk.

“Hi Joe!”

“Hiya, Rogerses! Where ya off to on this fine morning?” The old man braces himself on their little gate.

Five soft fingers curl around Steve’s elbow and he remembers that he’s supposed to be helplessly in love with this woman. Well… no acting required, he thinks with a wince. He covers her hand with his.

“Somebody destroyed breakfast,” Steve says, pointing his thumb at himself, “so he’s gonna treat his wife to some French cuisine.”

“Good on you, boy. Betsy deserves the best.”

“That she does,” Steve says, a hair too earnestly.

“Talking about me like I’m not even here!” She giggles. “Joe, do you still need Steve’s help moving that dresser?”

Steve tightens his hand over hers. They’ve talked time and again about how Joe is capable of stealing one’s entire day, and how frustrating it is when he’s trying to keep tabs on Joe’s neighbor to have a two-hour conversation about hydrangeas–

“If he’s offering!” Joe smiles expectantly at Steve, who bobs his head.

“I could do that for ya. How’s this afternoon?”

“You know where to find me!” Joe salutes and totters back down the street towards his small bungalow.

Once they are seated inside Steve’s car, shielded by darkly tinted windows, he dares to study her. She ignores him, typing away on her phone. “What was that?” he asks lowly.

“You’ve been trying to find a reason to case his house,” she says, not looking up. “I got you an in.”

He clears his throat. “Right. Good idea.”

“You’re not the only influential Rogers in the neighborhood.”

Steve sighs. “‘M sorry–”

“It’s forgotten.” Her phone rings in her hand and she answers immediately. “Hello? No, unsubstantiated for now but Steve is going into Joe O’Leary’s later today while I pop over to Sharon’s. No, he’s just the only house we haven’t found a reason to go inside. It was Steve’s idea, actually.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. It absolutely was not, and if he’s honest with himself, he can’t quite figure out which part of this assignment he’s actually contributed to. She has all of the good ideas, she thinks of things he never would’ve dreamt of.

“--Yeah. Zemo is hunting this weekend, apparently. We won’t. Nick–that was one time!” she huffs. “I have the scar. We won’t go to his house until you’ve got the warrant. Why does every man around me insist on being so damn stubborn? No–god, I forget you have us triangulated at all times. We’re headed out for breakfast. I burned the pancakes, so…” She glances at Steve and shakes her head. “No, I copy. We’ll stay put. I’ll tell him.”

She hangs up and her head falls back against the seat. “He wants us to stay in place, and wait until he gives the okay to check out Joe and Sharon’s.”

“We already told both of them we’re going out… won’t that look suspicious?”

“I dunno… drive to the gas station. I’ll buy you some shitty coffee. At least our car will have left the driveway.”

“I’m buyin’,” Steve says, starting the car. “Last time I checked, you’re not the one who charred the pancakes.”

“It was still my fault.”

“You can buy me a moon pie, for my trouble.”

“I’ll buy you a whole box.” He can’t help the way his mouth turns up at one side, and when he looks at her, she’s smiling sadly. “I don’t like it when we’re at odds.”

Steve shakes his head. “No.”

“Partners?” She holds out her hand, but before he takes it…

“Why’d you do it?” His voice is soft, pleading. She shrugs.

“I wanted to. Don’t you ever do things, just because you want to?”

“Um. No, I don’t have that luxury.”

“I forgot who I’m talking to.” Her chin dips bashfully. “Just forget it happened, okay? We kiss in front of other people all the time, it’s a habit.”

“...which you wanted to do.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t overanalyzed it. Like you are doing right now.” She wiggles her fingers and Steve laces his in. “Partners. Do you wanna tell me what was going on with you?”

“Well… I suppose I was thinking about all this being done. It’s, uh. Hard to tell sometimes what’s part of the cover, and–”

“What’s real,” she finishes. “Maybe the truth is somewhere in the middle. We don’t have to answer that today.”

“I like holding your hand,” he admits. “I–shit, sweetheart, I-I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah. But I don’t have enough caffeine in me for that conversation,” he says, squeezing her hand.

“You can do it back, if you want. You keep looking at my lips. It’s okay if you want to, Steve.”

“I don’t want to ruin it,” he murmurs.

“Only way to do that is to shut me out.”

He studies her neatly manicured nails. “I want to. So bad.”

“But?”

“I don’t know. Can’t think straight as it is. What’s it gonna do to me–”

“Hush.” She holds their clasped hands to her lips. “It’s okay.”

“No–it isn’t.” He squeezes. “It’s unprofessional.”

“If you think I haven’t spent the last three weeks relishing the fact that I get to spend every evening watching trash tv with you, staring at your ass, and listening to you laugh… fuck professional, Steve. I didn’t mean for it to happen, okay? You caught me off guard with your sweetness. I knew I was in trouble the first time you kissed me.”

“But this is gonna end…”

“It doesn’t have to. I–” She stops to cup his cheek and brush her thumb over his jaw in reassurance. “I don’t wanna go a single day without kissing you. I don’t care if it started because we’re pretending.”

“It’s never been pretend for me,” he breathes.

She moves first, because she knows that he can’t do it without real permission, where there’s no question why it’s happening. He moans against her mouth; it’s always felt like his lips were meant for hers, but with nobody watching… It's a gift. She is precious to him. He cradles her face to say as much, without putting voice to it. Kissing her this way strips him of all ceremony. He’s just a city boy with a crush on a beautiful girl, who kisses like a dream. It’s freeing. If anyone saw them making out in the driveway, what would it give away? Nothing which doesn’t show on his face every time he looks at her. Because Steve can’t pretend like she isn’t the center of his world. Not when he has permission to kiss her in private.

His tenuous control snaps.

She keens as his lips traverse her jaw to nip at the tender skin below her ear. “Been holding out on me, Rogers.” He sucks a mark, blooming a ruddy bruise on her throat. Then, he lavs that spot, pulling more heavenly sounds from her lips. “Fuck.”

“I think about that, too,” he whispers against her skin. “But I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“We wouldn’t be the first partners to do it.”

“Remember when we caught Bucky and Nat after Bulgaria?” Steve eases the strap of her dress off the curve of her shoulder.

“God,” she sighs, tugging on his hair so he’ll find her mouth again. She catches his bottom lip. “You wouldn’t look at me.”

He blinks at her through heavy eyelids. “I was thinking about you.”

“You wanna fuck me in a bunk on the quinjet?” she scoffs. Her fingers card through his hair.

“Anywhere. Have forever. Buck knows. ‘S why he suggested you for this.”

She smiles against his mouth. “Remind me to send him a thank you card.”

“Can I touch you?”

“In the driveway?” she gasps, even as she guides his hand towards the hem of her dress.

“Windows are too dark to see in.”

“You’re kinker than I thought–fuck.”

He traces the pads of his fingers over her soft skin. Steve bites his lip, watching her eyes flutter as his hand gets closer to touching her where he wants to, most. “Think I’m vanilla, agent?”

“That is your favorite ice cream flavor.”

Steve stops for a second and squeezes her thigh in affection. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. She chases her lips after his, and pauses just a breath from his face. They smile at each other, drunk on uncorked arousal.

“Vanilla,” he whispers, tracing the hem of her panties, “is a complex flavor. Goes with everything. Chocolate. Cherries…” Steve dips his fingers beneath the silky fabric. She cants her hips to give him better access. He finds the little bud at her apex, worrying the bundle of nerves enough to make her moan.

“Exhibitionism,” she pants.

“In small quantities,” he chuckles. “Gimme your lips, sweets.”

She does so like a woman starved, but her head falls back as he sinks one finger into her heat. “Steven.”

“‘M here.”

“So good.” She rolls her hips to meet his hand. He thumbs her clit with every stroke. “Had a dream–mmph. You fingered me at a barbeque.”

“I’d do it. Under the table?”

“Mm. No. In the pool.”

“Our pool, sweetheart?” Steve works a second finger with the first easily. She’s drenched, she’s gorgeous.

She nods. “Yeah. But I couldn’t make a face because everybody was around.”

“What, then?” Steve feels her squeezing him tight. She’s close. He’s never wanted anything more in his life than to make her come. He doesn’t care how much work it takes to clean the seat afterwards. He’ll do it with a smile, as long as she comes.

“You made me orgasm in front of the whole neighborhood. Then you got in the hot tub and you made me sit on your dick.”

“Were you keeping me hard?” He tugs the cups of her dress down with his free hand and bears her breasts. “Christ. You’re so beautiful.”

“Nobody knew, and the bubbles covered us,” she sighs. “Right there, right–oh fuck. What about you?”

Steve groans as her hand finds his straining dick over the top of his jeans. “I’m gonna bust my zipper the second you come.”

“Wanna feel you. Please.”

He nods his consent, but not before flickering his tongue against her nipple. She stays his hand by turning her nails into the skin at his wrist, and forces him to lean his seat back so she can unbutton his pants, but she doesn’t get very far–

The back window of the vehicle shatters. Steve throws himself over her, peering above her headrest. She groans.

“I was so close,” she wheezes.

“Stay down, sweetheart.” Steve kisses her cheek and then throws the car into reverse, turning the wheel like a madman to dodge their attacker… Sharon. Standing on her front porch with a rifle. She raises the gun to take another shot, now that she has her sights on him.

“Roll down your window, baby!”

Steve doesn’t hesitate. His partner yanks the top of her dress up, lays half-way across his lap, and fires her own weapon (pulled from god-knows-where), catching their attacker in the shoulder. Sharon drops her rifle, but the gun discharges, destroying one of Steve’s tires with an explosive POP! The car drops heavily towards the front wheel well. Sharon staggers to retrieve her gun. After one more precise shot, she falls. Steve takes the gun from his partner when it is offered. She retrieves his pistol from the glove compartment, and they each get out of the car warily.

“Do you wanna trade?” Steve calls.

“You think I can’t shoot with your gun?” Her voice is sweet and teasing.

“I said no such thing. Is she dead?” They flank the unconscious woman… sure enough, she’s down for good, with one bullet right between the eyes. Steve exchanges a look of shock with his partner.

“Yes. Must’ve been desperate to risk taking us out like this. I’d say we found the rat,” she says.

“I guess so.”

“She has the shittiest timing.” She grins at him, which makes Steve’s ears turn red. She retrieves her phone from the car and makes a call.

Steve keeps his weapon at the ready. Several of the neighbors peer out their front windows in concern, but none are stupid enough to come out and investigate the ruckus. He attempts to stand between the body and the street, at least to obscure the pooling blood below Sharon’s head.

It doesn't take ten minutes for a dozen black SUV’s to come squealing down the sleepy street. By the time they take over the block, Steve and his partner are leaning against his car, glancing at each other with small smiles. They’ve collected themselves somewhat; he made sure there was no visible sign that she’d been just moments from an orgasm when they were shot at (other than the hickey, which he hopes nobody notices), and they attempt to look concerned that their attacker wasn’t someone they expected. But it’s especially hard for Steve to be stoic, because he knows how it feels to touch her. He settles for looking smug. He is, but who’s to say why?

Bucky accompanies the agents who emerge from the trucks, as does Fury. “Cap. Agent.”

“Director,” she acknowledges. “Sergeant.” Bucky wrinkles his nose at her.

“Walk me through what happened.” She steps forward with Fury and walks him towards the body, while Bucky hangs back with Steve. Barnes leans over and whispers.

“Your fly’s undone.”

Steve sighs. “Shit. Why are you staring at my crotch, huh?” He fixes the aforementioned zipper as discreetly as possible.

“Old habits die hard.” Bucky folds his arms and leans against the car.

“What would Natasha say to that?”

“...you think she doesn’t stare at your crotch, punk?”

“You two are nightmares.” Steve can’t help but chuckle, despite himself. “Carter annoyed the hell outta me, but I didn’t think she was involved.”

“You trying to change the subject?”

“Not succeeding, apparently.”

Just then, his partner looks up at him, gesturing towards him and then down the street, which is swarming with agents in black suits.

“Cool it with the puppy dog eyes,” Bucky murmurs.

Steve glares at him. “Shut up. That’s just how my face looks.”

“Not when you look at me,” Bucky says, elbowing him in the side. “Did you tell her?”

Steve’s eyes dart away, and he can’t help but smile. He twists his mouth to keep from breaking out into a full smile.

“Thank God,” Bucky says.

“Rogers!” Fury waves him over. Steve strides towards the director with his hands in his pockets. “I think your partner is a little shell shocked. Why don’t you take her to the house? I’ll catch up with you in a bit. I think it’s going to take a few hours for us to do a preliminary search of Carter’s.”

Steve glances at his partner, who has her hands clasped at her waist, twisting her fingers. She indeed looks quite shocked, eyes wide and unblinking as she stares up at him. “Yes sir.”

“I’m glad you two didn’t do anything hasty and stayed put. This could’ve gone a whole lot worse.”

Steve nods. He manages the world’s most convincing performance of concern, wrapping his arm around his partner’s shoulders. She leans into his side, letting him guide her across the street to the house with ‘Rogers’ painted on the mailbox. He doesn’t dare look at Bucky, nor does he want to risk saying anything until they’re safely concealed from the rest of the world. But the moment they’re inside, he presses her back against the front door. She smiles softly.

“Did that get your blood going?” she asks. “Getting shot at with your fingers inside me.”

He huffs. “Your mouth, I swear.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Do you want this?” He asks, working his knee between hers until she has to stand on her tip-toes. She nods breathlessly. “Out loud, or I stop.”

“I’ve heard you come,” she laughs. “In the shower. When you think you’re being quiet. I talk myself out of joining you every time, but I wanna see your face when you have an orgasm. I think you’ll be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Steve shivers. “Pretty, huh?” He lowers his mouth slowly to hers, but stops as she gasps. His hands find the globes of her ass, inching under the panties he’s going to destroy. He watches her eyes dilate with arousal. She smirks.

“You’re a pretty man, Rogers. ‘S why I married you.”

Steve gapes at her for just a minute. He shakes his head in disbelief, shrugging off the euphoria which rises in him at the thought of this woman truly being everything. Her fingers creep to his jaw.

“What?”

He sighs. “That’s all I want. To have this. All the time.”

“A wife, baby?”

“And babies, sweetheart.”

“You told Joe you wanted three… you were being serious.”

“I was.” His eyes flick back and forth to study her irises. They’re glassy.

“You’d want that with… me?”

“How long have you known me?” He asks, kissing her forehead.

Her hands wrap behind his head, stroking his nape. “That’s a big step. We’re not even together–”

“I’ve been telling anyone in a ten mile radius that you’re my wife for three straight weeks, and nothing has ever felt more right.” Steve levels his eyes with hers. “I want as much as you’re willing to give me.”

Her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “God. You take a girl’s breath away. I… I don’t know if I want kids, Steve–”

“But you want me.”

“Yes,” she sighs.

“Then I don’t care. You can think about it.”

“What if the answer is ‘no’? Could you be content with only me?”

“Only–sweetheart. You are everything.” Steve kisses her eyelids as they shut in relief. “We could always have dogs.”

She laughs in surprise, and it’s his favorite sound in the whole world. “Why don’t we start from the beginning, and see where we end up?”

“Where’s that?” He noses her cheek.

“Give each other orgasms for the first time. I mean, if I’m gonna think about having babies, don’t you think I should know how your dick feels?”

“You make a very good point,” he says with mock seriousness, tapping his chin. “In the spirit of investigation.”

“To make a truly informed decision.”

“Right… if we do this, we’re gonna have to tell Fury.”

She looks at him guiltily. “He… knows. I sorta forgot that the car is bugged.”

Steve freezes with wide eyes. “Shit.”

“...Yeah.”

“Well…”

“We have no reason to hide it, now.” She finds the hem of the shirt she likes so much and tickles her nails across his abdomen. “Besides, I gotta admit that I kinda found it, I dunno… hot? That people heard us.”

Steve locks the front door over her shoulder and walks backwards, tugging her towards the stairs. He spins her so her heels catch on the step, forcing her to sit down abruptly. Steve follows, latching his lips over hers hungrily. He probably should feel embarrassed, but how can he when this beautiful woman wants him? No man in his right mind would be ashamed of her.

He rends the gusset of her panties. For such a talkative person, she sure has nothing to say when his fingers find her clit again. Just incoherent moans. Steve has three fingers inside her by the time she comes, walls fluttering around his thrusting hand. Her head falls back in ecstasy as she soaks his fingers. He wastes no time working his pants down enough to free his dick; her hands urge his shirt off so she can run the tips of her nails down his chest, flicking against his nipples and making him buck. She’s bringing kinks out in him he didn’t even know he had.

She wraps one hand around him, making his head fall forward against her collar. He nips at her tendon in retaliation. She guides him until his dick is tucked between her folds, and rolls her hips to take him in. Steve obliges. He sinks into her fully, and groans.

“Fucking hell,” she breathes.

“You’re tight, sweets.” He teases the seam of her lips with his tongue, inviting her to lose herself completely. She’s still sensitive from her first orgasm, shivering when he brushes her clit, so Steve stays still. Buried deep in the woman of his dreams.

“Was it like this, in your dream?” he asks, stroking her cheek softly. She smiles blissfully.

“No. This is better than anything my brain made up. You gotta move.”

“What if I didn’t? And I made you sit with my dick inside you all day long.” Steve shimmies her dress up her torso until she arches her back enough to let him pull it over her head. But he fists the fabric at her wrists, capturing her hands so she can’t touch him. She whines.

“Jesus. Who knew you were so controlling?” Her inner muscles contract and he huffs.

“If I thought I could control you for one second, you’d know it by now,” he says, rolling his hips. “But you’re the one who’s got me wrapped around your finger.”

“Yeah?” she gasps. “You’ve got me tied up.”

“You don’t need your hands to have me right where you want me, sweetheart, and you know it.”

She kisses him hard. “Fuck me. So I have bruises from these stairs.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He snaps his hips forward to do just that, and he’s in heaven. He’s got little experience compared to some of the agents he hears bragging about their trysts in the gym, but by god, he’s never fucked a woman like this. Especially not someone he loves. His knees burn from the carpet, and his boots attempt to slide off his bracing step–hell, his pants aren’t even to his knees, but he fucks her like a desperate man, because that’s what he is. He wants her to come again, more than anything. Hard. Who cares if he doesn’t, as long as she finds pleasure?

Her hands slip free of their restraints easily, and she grasps his back for dear life. He’ll feel the marks from her nails in the shower, he’s sure of it. Steve doesn’t realize his eyes are closed until she gasps. His eyes snap open–she’s arching up, chasing her release. He reaches between their bodies to find her clit and rolls it as he thrusts. It’s enough to send her over the edge. She cries out, and it’s all he can do not to come at the sight of her. But he thrusts through her orgasm until she’s whining with sensitivity. She grips his ass.

“Baby–please. It hurts.”

Steve braces himself on his elbows and freezes, kissing her in apology. “Mmm. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You okay?” She nods, kissing him back slowly.

“You need to come.”

“I’m okay.”

“No!” She protests. “I want you to. I have to see it. Please–pull out, I’ll help you.”

The moment he rises up, she’s reaching for him… he can’t think with the way her fingers wrap around him, tugging him ever closer towards his own orgasm. He’s kneeling beside her on the stairs, watching her in rapt awe. She worships him, but she’s too gentle. He tightens her fingers with his to show her that she doesn’t need to be so careful with him. She’s a fast learner. She pumps him with as much care as he showed her, her eyes fixed to his face to catch every little expression of pleasure. When he’s close, he falls down onto his elbow, right at her side. She smiles, and he can’t help but smile back because god, he loves her. She’s everything. He’s never felt so good. He’s soaring. She coaxes him through his orgasm, painting her belly with his come. He turns his teeth into her shoulder to keep from bellowing, which makes her wince and laugh all at once. Then, he lets himself fall fully onto the stairs beside her, so they’re both staring up at the ceiling in awe.

He laughs.

“Yeah… you’re pretty, alright,” she breathes.

“I should’ve gotten you to bed.” He looks over at her. A faint sheen of sweat makes her glow like a goddess, and she shakes her head.

“I think this was as far as we were gonna make it.” She raises her hand to stroke his cheek but she’s shaking a little. Steve takes her hand and kisses it.

“What’s the verdict?” he whispers.

She giggles. “More research required.”

“Do you think the house is bugged?”

“...Not anymore.”

He can’t help but laugh at the innocent smile on her face. “Shit, sweets. You made me hungry. I could really go for those moon pies right about now.”

She beckons him to meet her in a kiss. “After that, baby? I’ll give you the whole moon.”

thanks for reading!

my masterlist - my marvel masterlist

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