#james buchanan bucky barnes
Life Goes On (Chapter 9)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Y/N is left in a hotel room and is not happy about it
Warnings: Language, Y/N yells at Bucky (yes this needs a warning cuz she's scary as fuck when she's mad), TFATWS spoilers
A/N: i just wrote this today and i think this is my favorite chapter
Y/N discovered very quickly that when rescuing your ex-vigilante friend from jail, you needed to pack a bag of clothes. Thank god she had forgotten her passport in her car after her trip to Mexico with friends.
Sam and Bucky were not happy that Raynor insisted on Y/N going with them. When Raynor told her to keep an eye on Bucky, she thought she was just teasing, not actually being serious. After Raynor threatened to report suspicious activity to those in charge of handling Bucky’s case, Sam felt no other choice but to drag Y/N along.
Even after Bucky said to just let the government come after him again. He knew Raynor had given him an empty threat, but Sam wasn’t taking any chances.
So here Y/N was, wrapped in the white, soft sheets of a bed in a hotel room in Germany. Sam and Bucky had snuck out earlier, leaving Y/N alone in the hotel room. How did she know? Sam kindly left a note for her, basically telling her that they’d be back later and to just stay in the hotel room. Sam had also mentioned that Bucky surveyed all entrances and exits to ensure no one was getting in and out. With the note was a plate of breakfast (that was still warm, so she had just missed them) and a bottle of water. With breakfast being the only meal they left for her, she assumed that they would be back around noon. The time as of a few minutes ago was 10:57 A.M., so she didn’t think they would be much longer.
Y/n huffed out a breath as she stared up at the popcorn ceiling of the hotel room. She had absolutely no clue where Bucky and Sam could be and that made her anxious. She also couldn’t believe that they left her alone in a hotel in Berlin, Germany. Not to mention, locked, as well. She found herself counting the white kernels of the popcorn ceiling. She recalled reading an article that these ceilings contain asbestos, which was odd considering how nice this hotel was.
She also found it odd that on a secret mission, Sam chose to stay in a nice hotel. She wasn’t really complaining about that though. The shower had plenty of hot water and the bed she slept on felt like heaven.
Y/N felt her eyelids give out. Counting these kernels was exhausting. Her back was well supported by the mattress, which made her lull even more into a sleepy trance. She was tired and bored. She had tried to walk around the hotel room earlier, even put on her favorite Beatles song to dance to. But she just wasn’t feeling it. Which was weird for her, because that song always made her dance. She even tried some 80s songs, but even those groovy beats couldn’t make her tap her foot on the carpet, even if she was held at gunpoint.
Y/N slipped deeper into her slumber. Her body relaxed, the wrinkles between her brows unfurrowed. Sleep, she told herself.
However, her relaxation was cut short. The sound of someone banging their fist against the door caused Y/N to jump right up from the bed. With eyes widened and her heart hammering out of her chest, her mind came to one thing only.
Sam and Bucky were found out and someone was now coming to get her.
She turned her head over the porcelain door, pounding still coming from the outside. Voices were behind the door, but she couldn’t make it out what they were saying, let alone who it was. Anxiety filled her chest, constricting her lungs and squeezing her heart with a fist. She searched around the room for a weapon. There was nothing portable enough to use. The T.V. was too big, the dressers wouldn’t do any good. She had no clue where the remote was. She searched around the room desperately, trying to find something, anything. Her eyes landed on her dirty breakfast plate.
Would a plate really protect you in an intruder situation? Y/N really didn’t know, but she was about to find out.
The door handle jiggled. “Fuck,” Y/N mumbled to herself, looking for yet another thing. This time, a place to hide and attack her intruder. Of course, it was near the door, her impending doom, but Y/N quietly tiptoed to the bathroom, closing the door behind her, not fully, of course, but just enough to let a sliver of light into the bathroom.
She heard the click of the door unlocking, making her breath hitch in her throat. She heard the door creak open. A soft footfall entered the room, the carpet softening the intruder’s boots. She still listened closely. She had counted a total of three pairs of footsteps, all small, quiet and succinct.
A girl with a fucking breakfast plate versus three intruders. This was going to be great on her tombstone.
As soon as she saw the outline of a person, she attacked, a small war cry escaping her throat. She lunged out of the bathroom, porcelain plate raised high above her head, ready to smash it into the intruder’s head. Unfortunately for her, her intruder was fast. Very fast. Before she knew it, her intruder spun around and immediately grabbed her raised arm, keeping it at bay from smashing the plate into their head.
“Y/N, hey, hey, it’s me!” The voice exclaimed, causing Y/N to open her eyes. She didn’t even know that she closed them. Her eyes met Bucky’s terrified expression, causing her panic-stricken face to relax. Her chest was heaving, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Bucky still had her plate-hand above her head.
She gritted her teeth and knocked him square in the chest with her spare arm. “You dick!” She yelled, the furrow back between her brows. Her anger must’ve really driven her punch because Bucky stumbled back a bit, dropping her arm from his grasp. “You take me to fucking Germany and leave me by myself in a hotel room, without telling me?” Y/N was just angry now and she had every right to be.
Bucky’s eyes softened. “But Sam left you a note.” Bucky replied, trying his best to defend himself. “That doesn’t make anything better!” She yelled back. “Where the fuck could you guys have gone anyway?” She huffed out, crossing her arms and looking over to Sam for an answer.
Sam moved himself out of the way to a man in a long fluffy coat. Y/N felt her eyes widen. In anger or shock? She couldn’t tell you.
She looked back over to Bucky, mouth agape, brows furrowed in confusion. “The guy who framed you for killing T’Chaka? Are you fucking serious?” Y/N felt herself getting even more angry with Bucky by the second. She turned over to Sam, who looked very nervous. “And you,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “You just went along with it? You guys helped break a criminal mastermind out of a high-security German prison?” She motioned over to Zemo, who just looked awkwardly between Bucky and Sam.
“Technically we didn’t break him out, he broke out himself-”
“It doesn’t matter! We’re now harboring a fugitive!”
“If I may?” Zemo said, lifting his hand up, asking permission from Y/N to speak.
“No!” She yelled, her teeth almost bared at him.
She was now livid. She couldn’t believe it. It was one thing to accompany Bucky on this mission, but it was another that he was helping a well-known criminal, which she definitely knew was against his terms and conditions with the United States.
Bucky sighed. “We need his help, Y/N.” She met Bucky’s pleading eyes. “With what?” She asked, stepping towards him, challenging him almost. “You never even explained to me why we’re here in the first place.”
“Those Flag Smashers you’ve heard about on the news,” Sam spoke up, saving Bucky from explaining it to her. “We fought them a few days ago, and they were super strong. Bucky-strong.” Y/N gulped.
“Super soldiers?” She asked, receiving nods from both Bucky and Sam. She sighed, “And I’m guessing he’s the expert on super-soldiers? Some special intell?” She asked. Bucky nodded again. Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. She was in too deep now. She finally understood why Bucky didn’t want her to accompany them on the mission in the first place. It was too dangerous. Too messy. Too much. Too much for someone like her to process.
“Give me five minutes and we’ll be on our way then.”
Life Goes On Tag List:
@livvpl107 @navs-bhat @bluemoon-icecream @sltwins @loveheathens @wintersfilm @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @theashlynbarnes @joscelyn02 @gene5sos @vibraniumqueen @icant-hangout-imdrumming @spideyswebshooters @darkacademic2 @bahama-mama-llama @lawrencekate @thewinterrbucky @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @dancerslovelife @hey-there-angels @archaeoheart @unmagically @marvelfansworld
chris evans out here talking about and defending stevebucky in 2021, you love to see it
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We'll meet again - Chapter 2
A/N: Update 2 of 3 for today. Hope you enjoy!
I've been informed that I'm tagging this incorrectly. Strictly speaking it isn't a reader insert, but if you substitute her name for yours I'd argue it could be. Take that as you will ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.
Tags/warnings: Bucky x Female Oc, slow burn - kinda, hurt/comfort, 1940's, pre-CA:TFA, Pre-serum Steve Rodgers, 3rd person limited POV, canonical sickness.
Bucky opens the door, peering around the edge cautiously before opening it wide, the relief evident on his face. “Gracie. Thanks for coming over.”
Grace bustles in, bags in hand and makes her way past him through to the small kitchen. “Of course. I’m glad Rebecca was able to find me. How is he doing?” Bucky’s sister accosting her in the street had nearly given her a heart attack at the time, the warning bells sounding clearly in her mind. So much for staying anonymous.
Slipping his hands into his pockets at a loss of what to do, he shakes his head, brows furrowed. “He’s just slept last couple of days. His fever hasn’t broken yet.”
“He drank much?” With her back tuned to him, Bucky watches as she finds her way around with practiced ease. She sets a bowl under the faucet and throws a clean rag into the water as it rises.
The frustration bleeds through into his voice. “Yeah, it’s hard keeping him awake long enough to eat though.”
She turns then, meeting his eyes in concern. She only deliberates for half a second before reaching into one of the bags for a small brown glass bottle. “Now, you didn’t get this from me. Okay?”
“Steve wouldn’t want you getting in trouble.” He gently takes the medicine from her anyway, knowing his token protest will fall on deaf ears.
Right enough, she waves him off. “Oh hush. I brought some soup– And I knew you wouldn’t have had time to go to the store, so I got some extras to tide you over. Some smokes for you too.” She adds, motioning to the side.
He rubs the back of his neck, not knowing what to do with the feeling surging in his chest. “You’re a doll. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.”
“You’d manage.” She chides, shutting the water off and lifting the bowl out of the sink.
He wasn’t so convinced, especially after the last few days. Him and Stevie usually got through well enough, but this time was one of the worst. “Well, I’m mighty grateful either way.”
Bucky trails after Grace with the soup in hand, watching as she perches on the edge of the bed. Steve twitches at the movement of the mattress springs and his eyes flicker open slightly.
“Hey Stevie.” She smiles warmly at him, wringing out the rag of excess water.
Bucky frowns as the frail young man makes an effort to sit up. Setting the bowl down, he quickly moves to the other side of the bed to help prop him up, shoving a folded pillow behind his back. He’s pretty sure Steve doesn’t realise who she is when he speaks.
She meets Bucky’s eyes, her mouth pressed into a thin line with concern. “Gotta keep washing him down. It’ll help with the fever.”
James nods, taking in the information and committing it to memory, hating the helplessness that consumes him whenever Steve gets sick.
Steve whimpers in discomfort as Grace drags the cool rag over his burning skin. She soothes him over with gentle words and Bucky can’t help but think she will make a damn good nurse once she finishes school. She’s already a natural.
Grace picks up the bowl of soup deposited on the bedside table. “Stevie, drink this for me would ya?”
It takes some coaxing on both their parts and thankfully Steve doesn’t seem to protest as much with a dame in the room. He finishes off almost two bowls of the soup and she sponges his skin down again before they decide to let him rest up.
Shutting the bedroom door behind her, Grace sighs. “Is he like this a lot?”
He hesitates, saving her from the long-winded answer. “Not all the time. It comes and goes. His Ma said he was worse when he was a kid.”
“It’s good he’s got you looking out for him.” She nods, somehow alleviating some of the pressure in his chest with her soothing voice.
He scoffs, despite himself. “It’s good we’ve got you Gracie. I was running out of ideas.”
“I think he’ll be okay now he’s had some food in him. The fever should break by tonight.” She shrugs, hopeful.
“Thank God for that.”
They fall into an easy silence for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her watching him. For some reason he is bad at this today. He blames Steve in all honesty. Really though, it’s not like he ever actually invites Dames back to their place. He always goes to them. He thinks that maybe he ought to offer her something to drink, though she was right about him not having time to go to the store. Truthfully, they didn’t have the money for anything fancy either. He’d missed two shifts at the docks to look after Steve already and he wasn’t entirely sure there would be a job there for him still when he went back. That dumb punk needed to get better, fast. For the sake of Bucky’s sanity if nothing else.
Her hesitant voice jars him out of his thoughts. “You want some company this evening?”
James nods, grateful to not be alone. “That’d be great, Doll. Steve isn’t much of a talker right now.”
Squeezing his elbow in understanding, she smiles, looking around the small apartment for inspiration before raising an eyebrow. “Got any cards?”
He shoots her a grin. “Know how to play Crazy Eights?”
“You could teach me if you like.” She suggests, as if he might actually say no.
Bucky had no idea how they got so lucky as to get a dame like her to give them the time of day, but he’d be damned if he’d let her go now.
“Sure. I’ll even go easy on ya.”
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Part Seventeen of The Fixers is up and running, and it’s probably one of my favourite chapters to date 🤓
Part Seventeen of The Fixers
The General smiled at Bucky in the throne room of the Asgardian palace. However, they might as well have been back in the medical room of the Russian base, for all Bucky cared.
“So then, Soldat,” the General said, “what are you going to do to me?”
Bucky frowned; this wasn’t how the General usually talked to him.
Of course not, a voice inside of him said. This isn’t your general; he’s a demon.
Bucky smiled to himself.
“What do you mean by that?” Bucky asked. He pretended to sound bored so that the ‘General’ would get annoyed at him.
“What I mean is, I’ve used you as a puppet for so long. I’ve brainwashed you, I’ve tortured you and used you like a child plays with their toy soldiers. And I’d gladly do it again. Doesn’t that anger you, Soldat?”
It did anger Bucky a lot, mostly because he knew he wasn’t the only one.
“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? How have you managed to stay this young during all this time? You can’t have been put in the ice since you ran off, have you?”
The truth was that Bucky had been given a thing called an Infinity Formula, which slowed down the ageing process, and made him a little bit better at fighting and exercise than a regular person. It also made him heal faster.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Bucky replied.
“I knew you’d do that. You couldn’t resist. Does it bring you comfort of the old days?” The General smiled.
Bucky slowly pulled out a knife, and gripped it in his right hand.
Despite the palace room being full, Bucky only concentrated on the General.
“Bucky, don’t,” Sam said, suddenly appearing in front of Bucky.
“Get out of my way, Sam,” Bucky growled.
“No. You don’t need to do this.”
Sam gripped Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky slowly pulled Sam’s hands off him.
“Sorry, Sam. I have to do this.”
He walked towards the General, who pulled out his own knife.
The two men circled each other, both poised to fight.
The General leapt at Bucky, aiming the knife at Bucky’s throat.
Bucky almost laughed at he easily blocked the move with his metal arm.
The knife was lodged into Bucky’s metal arm, and he took it out and threw it to the side. He then kicked the General in the stomach, and flipped the knife in his hand, just to show off.
The General snarled, and lunged, knocking him flat on his back.
Bucky got up quickly, jumped onto the General’s shoulders, and was about to go to town with the knife, when the General flipped Bucky over, causing him to drop the knife in surprise.
Bucky swore loudly. He didn’t have his bullet proof vest on. He only had his black domino mask with white fabric to cover his eyes, a long sleeved red Henley shirt, black high waisted jeans and his black combat boots with the silver steel caps.
The flip had caused him to land on his back on a cold marble floor; it was definitely going to leave a bruise.
The General laughed.
“You have grown weaker. You are sloppy. You’re not as good as you used to be. You-“
He never finished his insults because Bucky had got up by then and kicked him hard in the stomach, quickly spun around and kicked the General in the head with the steel cap on his boot.
“I’m James Bucky Barnes. And nobody tells me what or who I am, especially you!” Bucky snarled, rage driving him on.
The General fell onto the floor, but Bucky wasn’t finished with him yet.
He picked the man up by the scruff of the collar, and held onto his throat tightly. He turned up the steam pump on his metal arm, and watched as it burned the man’s throat.
The man didn’t react. He must’ve died when Bucky kicked him in the head.
But a part of Bucky was glad he had the final word.
He looked around at his friends, huffing a little.
Sam looked shocked, Natasha and Steve looked worried, Clint looked scared, and Thor, Luna and Loki looked at him with admiration.
Bucky smiled at them, and then turned towards Hel and Katherine, who didn’t look happy.
“So,” Bucky said, still a little out of breath, “would any of you like to challenge me?”
And then half the palace roof fell down.
Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land - Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hello to all beautiful people! Happy pride month my lovelies!!! This has been in my head, forever and I couldn't get past it. Every time I wanted to write something else, this was right there to remind me...
This is the first part. The second one is being written right now.
Warnings: My English. Everyone is alive, just cuz.
Word Count~ 9k+
Summary: It would turn out to be the most difficult thing you had ever done, but you didn’t know that. Your heart would break into many pieces, nowhere to be found, but you didn't know that. Not one moment of your life had remotely prepared you for what was about to come. You were told it was a simple and easy mission. You were reassured everything would be alright because there was no chance whatsoever to fail – it was considered to be an effortless, straightforward mission. After all, how hard could it be – it was just one file, go in, grab it, get the hell out and return home safely and fast. Unfortunately, no one had ever informed you about the circumstances under which you would have to act. Because playing a part was easy, playing people…that was another story completely. SPOILER WARNING - Time travel kinda fic!
Part I – Oblivion.
It was one of the few moments of serenity everyone would enjoy, partly because they were so rare. No wars to be fought, no worries to be dealt with, no missions to be completed. That to the Avengers meant sleep and training, while to you meant more babysitting than usual. Fury had appointed you and trusted you enough to report back to him, anything out of the ordinary. Your job had gotten pretty boring, pretty fast – most of them were never around, anyway. Days like this one, however, were testing your patience – and loyalty.
Even though he did not appreciate your calculating eye, at first, Tony was more than happy to give you your own room and enough freedom to run around the tower as if it was your own home. Well, after a certain point, it became your home, since you moved your things out of the rented apartment; you weren’t spending any time there, anyways. You usually stayed within your boundaries and only recorded anything really off, because soon enough you learned that they were a quirky bunch of people, getting closer as the years rolled by, even fighting like a family would.
Natasha called you a friend, and that was one of the highest honors achieved. Tony would let you play with his tools even though you had absolutely no idea what most of them did and Steve had offered to train you. Come to think of it, thank God he did. Wanda and Pietro, really felt like the siblings you never had, although Pietro was a flirtatious little shit. Vision was the wise uncle and Thor, when he happened to pop by, was a literal God. Bruce was always so timid and flustered by Natasha.
But then a stranger came in. Just when you had decided that you would never find the courage to ask Steve out, someone else invaded your space like nothing you had ever experienced before; and he was never really close to you, physically.
You only caught glimpses, bits, and pieces of that man, at first. You knew that Tony did not trust him at all and that Steve trusted him enough for the both of them. You knew he had a metal arm and he was called “Winter Soldier” by Tony, but Nat and Steve called him Bucky. Wanda seemed interested because for once she could not read a mind. At that, you called Fury and he was as cryptic as ever, only informing you to stay on your feet. Your gut was nudging you to do your own research but at the same time, why bother when the research material was few doors away?
You did find out about everything, eventually, mainly because you kept asking everyone up to the point that drove them insane. Once you saw his face, you knew why they were keeping him low-key monitored 24/7. He was accused of many things, that was without a question. You were watching at the live footage of the camera keeping an eye on him and you could swear that he looked straight through the lenses and burnt your face. The thing was… no one was trying to keep you away but he never wanted to get close to you or even greet you. You entered a room, he found another exit. At first, you didn’t think much of it. A person with a shitload of trauma couldn’t socialize… big whoops. But then, it started getting weirder each day.
Honestly, you wouldn’t have paid that much attention, if it wasn’t for Steve apologizing for his behavior only to you. Steve seemed off as well. It was a strange vibe that other times was so ever-present and others… you couldn’t even remember what you were worrying about. It had flooded your mind when you first met him, but again, didn’t think much of it. You were too busy gawking at him to really care about your intuition. And then, once you got used to him being well… him, the same feeling nudged you again sporadically. This was one of those times. You wanted to ask him what was the big deal but you never did.
You shook your head and walked down the aisle towards the kitchen. It was rather late for you but insomnia had taken over again, leaving you a not-so-hot of a mess. Your head was definitely not on your shoulders; you preferred dreaming wide awake, as if in a trance, all those scenarios in your head, wondering what if one of them came true…
You weren’t sure why you ended up in the kitchen, in the first place; your feet had carried you without your permission. You exhaled rather loudly while massaging your temples, eyes shut. Opening them was probably a mistake. You came face to face with blue eyes with a silver tone. Your heartbeat would have picked up if it wasn’t for the exhaustion.
“Hi” you simply offered and took a step back. He squeezed his eyes shut and all but ran away.
“Bye” you said loud enough for the entire tower to listen to you, but your patience had reached its limit. You rolled your eyes at your tactics and his attitude and grabbed a bottle of rosé wine, walking back to your room. Why not the roof, you thought, and up you went.
“I never told you to be besties with her, nut-head. But that’s rude. Even for you” you heard Tony reprimanding someone and your stomach was already in a not. You froze, trying to catch everything you could hear.
“Says you!” Natasha exclaimed, defending…him? It didn’t make sense.
“Stop it. I mean, do you even know if she is loyal to you or someone else?” he questioned but surprisingly enough it wasn’t Steve or Natasha – the two people you thought of as friends – who defended you but Tony.
“Bullshit. You better fix this Rogers. Now” he coldly demanded and exited. Thankfully, the room had another exit and so he didn’t catch you. Not that he couldn't figure it out if he wanted to. You anticipated someone to prove him wrong but no such thing ever happened. However, Natasha said something that kept bothering you for the longest time.
“We both know that’s not why you are shit to her… and you, a coward”. You didn’t sit around for more bickering. Wine down we go, you thought.
“Good morning sunshine” Tony yelled at you, making you wince in pain. You had pulled yourself together and went for “work” – replacing Pepper while she was running the company. So, you did everything Tony threw at you. He was quite the mentor if you were honest. But times like this one really did push your buttons. You pinched the bridge of your nose and looked at him and Steve.
“Hello, obnoxiously loud for your height person” you specifically choose not to include Steve, something he noticed as he arched his eyebrow. Tony caught on pretty fast but instead of staying out of it, he jumped right in.
“Who got your knickers in a twist? No! Don’t tell me! Captain Virgin?” he exclaimed right when Bucky was passing by, making you groan in frustration and facepalm. Steve turned red but kept his composure while his best friend was in shock. Tony seemed rather unphased by the scene. You tried to hand him a file but he raised his hands.
“I don’t like to be handed stuff” he said as if it was the single most mundane thing to say. You looked at him dead in the eye and got up from your seat.
“And I don’t like that I have to put up with everyone’s bullshit. But you don’t see me going like this every time one of you acts like a 5-year-old now, do you?” you said without breathing and slammed the file on the counter, in front of him, leaving the three men in awe and a bit worried.
You started walking away when Steve called for you and made you turn on your heels, approaching him like a shark was approaching its victim. He needed to know that he had hurt you.
“Come on, don’t – ”
“No, no. When you realize that I have been here even before you came along, and start treating me with respect, then I will come back. Until then, good luck sorting out your loyalties – because you should already know mine” you deadpanned and shot Bucky a poisonous glare. For a second there, you saw guilt and pain but you turned around before that second became more.
You stormed out of the tower and walked aimlessly, without really knowing where you went. You walked by the Empire State Building and your feet carried you towards Brooklyn, without you even noticing it. Hangover at its best but you tried to walk it off along with your anger. You passed a couple of coffee shops before you decided to enter one. The ornate facade and all-wood interior, with a dash of stained glass, and its extremely low-key vibe, transported you to an earlier era. It also helped that it was tucked on a street corner in Boerum Hill surrounded by handsome brick townhouses.
Although it had basically the vibes of a bar, it felt familiar and even… comfortable to you. It was called Brooklyn Inn and you had never seen anything online for it. It felt old and vintage but it was so welcoming to you as if you belonged there. You hadn’t planned on staying there but you found a seat by the bar and had the intention of ordering a coffee but you remembered why you run away and instead you ordered a glass of Malbec.
The wine was exquisite; rich, dark, and full-bodied with hints of black cherry, vanilla, and sweet tobacco. You were informed that it started with grapes from France but ended up being produced in Argentina and that the glass you were holding was indeed, French. You found comfort in that and it perplexed you. Your eyes traveled around, looking at all the different people in the pub and how many more would have had their drink here… until your gaze fell on him. You had no idea how to feel or even express that. But how did he find you? He approached you, a bit reserved but not too much. It felt that it was his idea to find you – or at least, you hoped to. You were a sucker for those people… brooding, traumatized and devilishly handsome. He sat down next to you, and you got the feeling that he had done that more times than you could count; it felt natural. Almost everything felt just the way they were supposed to.
When the bartender came to take his order, he greeted him and even held a small talk, which meant two things. Bucky was
capable of talking, just not to you and secondly, he came to this place, quite often too, if you were to judge by the friendliness and the fact that the guy knew what the “usual” meant. He was fucking dushing, you noticed.
“And one more glass of Malbec for the lady” he added right after, leaving you confused as fuck but surprised in a good way, too. You just sat there, looking at your glass, not daring to disturb whatever universe you had entered.
“I am sorry for being a jerk to you” he confessed while the drinks were served. You thanked the bartender and took a sip.
“Try looking at me when you apologize” you softly mused and you noticed a side smile forming on his lips, one that he quickly dropped. To your surprise, he did. And you found yourself captivated by his eyes.
“I am sorry, doll” his mouth betrayed him and your eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. He quickly apologized again and remained silent. You felt so awkward that you let out an airy laugh. It might not have been for you in particular but getting to be called doll but the one James Barnes was on your bucket list. The man in front of you was an infamous flirt back in the day – that much you knew from Steve, when he actually talked to you.
“S’ okay… Sergeant” you commented with an eyebrow slightly arched. He actually blushed at that and you felt very proud. You put down your glass and turned towards him.
“But why? Why were you a jerk? No offense” you quickly added, hoping to get an answer this time. He cleared his throat and adjusted his body as well. You could literally see his brain malfunctioning.
“It’s just that… I don’t know and I am not big on trusting strangers” he said but you didn’t believe it. If he didn’t know you, he could have asked. If he truly didn’t know you, he wouldn’t know where to find you – alright, maybe that was a coincidence, but what about your drink?
“Bullshit” you softly challenged him while looking at him dead in the eye but smiled nonetheless and dropped it. You sat there for a while, enjoying the vibe and the drinks until you took your wallet out to pay and leave. You weren’t sure if it was his manners kicked in, or if it was a force of habit but he stopped you…in a very physical way. He touched your hand and pushed it back – you weren’t even sure he realized it.
“Thank you, but I can pay for my drinks” you said steadily. He gave you a funny look and placed 30 dollar-bill under the receipt.
“I know” he simply commented and he gave you his hand to help you out of your stool. Yeah, you had entered another dimension. Exactly because you were so unprepared for all of it, really, you just complied. And the touch was pushing you further down a slippery slope. He even held the door open for you. “Wait, wait. Why are you being so nice?” you suddenly asked him, making him smile in question.
“Can’t I just be sorry for my attitude?” he questioned. You were about to say no but… oh, well.
“You’re going to poison me? Have you spiked my drink?” you kept asking and he let out a small laugh. He declined every accusation with a ‘nope’. You ended up walking around Brooklyn with him and you didn’t even notice. He was silent for the most part but that didn’t bother you, as you simply let your mind and eyes travel as far as they wanted. Brooklyn was the heart of the entire New York City. It was so oddly familiar to you, even though you hadn’t lived that long there.
“So… you and Steve… he tells me you are close” he tried to make small talk. It took you by surprise the fact that they had talked about you. You thought about the statement for a bit.
“Sure. I mean, obviously, I don’t know him as well as you do, but he’s a good friend” you answered truthfully. He was a very good friend. He was there for you since you met him. Come to think of it, he and Bucky acted exactly alike. Mmm, not exactly, but they both avoided you in the beginning, and then everything was perfect. He too, wouldn’t talk to you, although he did talk to you, just not… in an elaborated way. More like in
the ‘I see you here every day and I have to be polite’ way.
“Oh” it was all he said. The conversation, if one could call it that, died down after that. And it was getting late. You had to return to your job and have a talk with Tony to get him to cooperate and sign the damn contracts he initiated. “This was lovely, weirdly enough. But I do have to get back” you soothed. It was the strangest day for you. Or so you thought. He, on the other hand, had no intention of going back so early.
“Have ever been to Coney Island?” he blurted out, leaving you dumbfounded. You blinked a couple of times before answering.
“No, I don’t think I have” you told him as you crossed the Williamsburg Bridge. He slightly frowned but you really didn’t understand why.
“If you need a guide, I am available” he offered while he took a step back. You really didn't know what to think.
“Brooklyn born and bred, huh?” you joke but he took pride in that. Why wouldn't he, you thought.
“Yes ma'am” he confirmed and left you wondering what the hell just happened.
“I should go. Thank you for... the normality” you waved goodbye. He lowered his head and nodded in agreement. Without another word, you took your separate paths.
You were thinking about how people were constantly moving at quantum speeds, in their minds, in their work, building patterns and seeing past through their everyday lives. Having this socially constructive mentality that they needed to be productive to be seen as equals to their peers. Constantly in motion, to be more and criticizing their imperfections. It felt like a constant need to keep striving forward, but they would eventually lose focus on their true essence, on what their really needed. So caught up in thinking about who they were going to be that they didn’t even recognize who they were right now.
You caught yourself being one of those people and tried to find stillness in your lives, moments of silence, to come back within, to allow the rest of the world to keep moving forward, to see new objectives intuitively flowing through.
The sky was so soft, you felt that it would melt if you touched it. The darkest blue was stained with little balls of color. You wished that you could see the night sky at its glory, without the lights and pollution to destroy the magic. Your room didn’t have the best of views, anyway. You gave up trying to imagine how different the velvet canvas would have looked seventy years ago, and strolled around the compound. Everything was still and serene as if no one was even breathing. You always felt torn between big crowds and solitude, being with company and being alone, living in a big city and leaving everything behind.
He was such a fucking contradiction. He was flirtatious, charming, and romantic, but also introverted and emotional. You could never really know because of how adaptable and changeable he was. You understood his mood swings better than anyone, but it was hard even for you, to keep up with the stream of emotions that never slowed down.
He was someone whose identity had been obliterated by pain—a pain that had destroyed almost every last vestige of his personhood. It was for this reason that he almost never spoke, you thought. He was still fighting whatever HYDRA did to him. You thought of the reoccurring presence of a piercing, metallic scream—a scream that was positively visceral, expressive of a tremendous amount of pain, panic, and fear. Brutal and brutalizing, that noise playing in his head over and over again, impacted him on a palpable, instinctive, organic level, giving sonic form to the blank, numbness inside the Winter Soldier’s mind. He was trying to fight it and you could see that. The demons were still inside, though.
Steve had told you that Bucky was one of the few people that actually recognized what it was that made him good, before his transformation into Captain America. has been made of the fact that Bucky Barnes is one of the few people to recognize the greatness in Steve Rogers before his transformation into Captain America. You saw the way he believed in Steve, too. But you wanted to yell at him that, yes, Steve was great but so was he. He didn’t believe he could achieve that kind of greatness but he didn’t mind, he had plenty of time to come to terms with it, as he had revealed once, a very unholy hour.
And that was exactly what made him great; his selflessness, his choice of friendship instead of jealousy. You were watching him again. From afar, always from afar. Never from near. You watched him and observe the way his hair had grown the last few weeks and how some strands were falling down to his eyes. He brushed them away, harshly, and you wondered how these bruised hands would feel on your skin. His skin glistened warmly like desert sand when the sun caressed him.
You watched bruises fade and reappear, lipstick smeared on collarbones - or was it blood? - his skin shimmering like naked gold, flesh piercing out between his teeth. It was your destiny to watch and fall, to fall and watch. All over again. Watch. Stop. Repeat until internal collapse. This time, he was watching you too. His eyes were blue, a particular kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the frozen cover of a winter’s lake. A smug
blue that broke through the purple sky like a whispered sunset. Bucky was watching you and he had no intention of averting his eyes and you felt your blood freezing inside your veins. It was a bitter realization of how much power that man held over you. Your body shivered.
You couldn’t prevent it anymore; your eyes were drawn to the sun like a magnetic field that hypnotized you over and over again and you were terrified by the light but you were more terrified of being surrounded by the dark again. You blinked. You sit there, frozen in time, while everyone else became witness of the silent conversation between the two of you, but you had a hard time understanding if it was your heart that hammered beneath your ribcage or if it had stopped.
You were dreaming again. You were daydreaming that there was a gap between reality and something like blood was sticking between the sharp edges of his collarbones but you didn’t mind because his hands were on your neck, on your face, in your hair – “do you want me to touch you? I’ve seen the way you look at me, I want to touch you, be still” - and you were, you were still, you were quiet when he dragged you over to the wall and pushed his knee between your legs and you wanted this, wanted him and his fingers dug painfully in your cheeks and your chin and he held you still, so still you couldn’t move and it hurt…
You shook your head. Your mind was playing with you, mocking your naivety. He was watching but he was only watching, as were you – from afar. Never once getting closer than that.
“Are you okay?” a worried whisper, violently shook you out of your dream. It felt so real; his touch burnt marks and you could swear you knew how they felt.
“Yes” you said as in a trance. Steve didn’t believe you. He knew that answer, he used that answer. He looked at you concerned but you looked at the other man walking behind him, not really paying attention to anything he said. You often wondered if he was able to just… read your mind. It was easy, too easy, to fall for him. He was tender and familiar. He understood so much of his surroundings and experienced deeper than anyone you had known. But you wished you knew if he truly felt – it seemed easier to be numb.
Steve arched an eyebrow and gave you the look, which was actually wasted since you weren’t looking at him. Bucky saw you and didn’t turn away, instead he looked right back at you.
“I have to go” you blurted out and left as fast as your legs could carry you.
“What about Nat?” you heard Steve asking and you swallowed your heart. “It’s different” Bucky simply answered. You stopped breathing so you wouldn’t miss a word.
“How? They are both from your past” Steve offered but your head couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“That’s not true and we both know it” he replied and silence took over. You had taken one step when a response was out there, for you to deal with it.
“Of course, I know. But she doesn’t know and we cannot tell her”.
Days and nights passed by in an everlasting circle. Minutes turned into months and your life moved on. You never asked what was the big secret; you took what they gave you and cherished it. You never lied about anything, you were always there and somehow, you had gained Bucky’s trust. He confided in you, he laughed around you without worrying about what people might think, as did Steve. But they never said a word. You had caught some other weird comments as well but you brushed them off. They would tell you when and if they felt comfortable. You had a pretty vague idea about it and you tested it more than once but never crossed a line.
Little things like small comments about their past, questions asked but never answered, words that didn’t correspond with today… you didn’t really know what to think but you started realizing that something was going on… since before you met them. Maybe they knew a girl with strong opinions and quick temper back in the day and they were projecting. Maybe, they just wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. Who could blame them?
Bucky was on the cold tiles of his bathroom and was pressing his hands flat down until the chill crawled up in his bones. He felt burnt and touched and scorched in all the places that he thought had healed a long time ago. Somewhere in the background, the water tap was dripping in tandem with his heart. Drop, drop, drop, your name was spelled…
You had just entered his room, waiting to find him looking outside the window. Instead, you heard the ragged breathing. When he closed his eyes, he saw crime scenes. A marketplace in the afternoon glow. Orange lights switching to red. Honking cars. His lifeless eyes fixed on his target. And the scene always ended with a twist – his target was no longer the bold man; he was no longer the Winter Soldier, it was no longer the present, you were no longer safe.
Drop, drop, drop. Bucky opened his eyes when the sun had long died on the horizon. One of his hands was resting on the tiles – the other wasn’t his. He felt like an emergency. But you kneeled down and sat next to him, with both of your hands on the tiled floor. He remembered a scene that had yet to happen. He wanted it to.
“Tell me you need me”, he said and his lips were shivering against your sunburned skin, “tell me you need me, tell me you can’t fucking breathe without the scent of my cologne or the taste of my skin under your tongue. Tell me”, he said and he was frantic, almost wild in his eyes, “tell me you want me. Tell me you want me so much that it fucking burns inside of you. Tell me you’re not ashamed”, and this time the man was almost begging with his hands roaming all over your face and his eyes blinded from the dying sun, “tell me you love me, please, tell me that all the flesh I burn and all the blood I swallow underwater is worth it. Tell me you won’t leave me”, he whispered and something tasted acid like bile and salty like tears in the back of your throat and the air was unusually hot, and each of his words left knife marks between the hollows of your ribs.
“Tell me this isn’t all in my head”, the man finally broke out and covered himself with your body like a blanket made of waves and you kissed his eyelids and watched as the skin under your lips melted to ashes.
“It’s too cold for you” he croaked and you chuckled. You shook your head, and you knew that even in the dead of the night he could see it.
“You’re not too cold for me” you reassured his not spoken worry. He was terrified and you only got a glimpse. Fridays were supposed to be movie nights – the guys educating you in old cinema – but you didn’t mind at all the scene you were witnessing. You slowly approached him and even more reservedly you offered your hand in a kind gesture – he could pick himself up, physically, but sometimes that was not enough. He touched you, grabbing onto your hand for dear life. The lights were off inside his room. He didn’t turn them on and you respected that decision.
It was late; again. In any other scenario, you would consider this romantic but his fragile state made you scared and angry at the people who bent him backward. He sat on his bed and you didn’t dare move from his side. He had been careful enough to hide this part away from you, to hide the panic attacks that came with it, the nightmares, the voices. You sat there in absolute silence until you moved your hand to touch his metal arm. He looked at you as if you were insane – because he was afraid of himself enough for the both of you.
“I’m scared of the darkness inside of me. It is growing, day by day, and I fear the day it consumes me. You called me a hero when we first met, Steve told me… but I feel like I have been the villain all along” he found himself confessing and you had no idea what hit you. You had seen him down, sad even angry but never so… broken. Ready to give up everything.
“I called a hero because no one else would be standing here, sitting next to me, talking about their trauma. I called a hero, not because heroes are pure light – no, because every single one of them is trying to fight the demons inside. Because, you have walked through the gates of hell, into the firepits, and survived to see… not the pearly gates but this mediocre existence, full of mundane little things” you admitted without even realizing what was the very essence of your words.
“I tried to unlearn how to hold the guns and the knives the way they taught me. I tried to unbury myself from all those corpses of people they put above me. I tried to erase them from my system. With scissors and razor blades and butcher knives and broken shards of a mirror. I don’t want to be killed twice” he winced at the thought and you acted out of instinct, cupping his face with your hands and looking deep into his eyes, to see where those demons were hiding and obliterate them any way you could. He was taken aback but didn’t move.
“Do I scare you?” he asked in a small voice, too afraid to destroy the stillness of the moment.
“You could never”.
He lied sleeping next to you, hair messy, body relaxed. You watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, counting the beats in between. Dust settled in the air and you watched it drizzling through the glimmer of white light that shined through the blinds. You wanted to reach out and touch him but you stopped mid-movement. Instead, you touched him with your eyes. Cheeks, nose, collarbone, lips. The air around him tasted like autumn. You wanted to drown in it.
His hand was in your hand and your hand was in his and his lips were on yours and your lips were on his and his fingers touched your skin and yours touched his shoulders and-
You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep. It felt so… right. So real. You could almost touch him and sense his warmth but something was off. In your dream, he was younger, careless, carefree…and you never felt the metal of his arm.
You had made a promise of never falling asleep when he was around because even if it felt so damn right, you never wanted to make him uncomfortable. However, seeing him sleeping so peacefully took some of the guilt off of your shoulders.
He was serene, almost resembling the disoriented dream of yours. Softer, mellow, and not tormented by those demons that hunted him each waking moment. You tried your best not to touch him and slipped under the bedding, still very much able to understand just how much heat he was radiating, making you fall asleep again. Easily.
There was half a carton of milk leftover from breakfast on the table. You reached out and took it, drinking it straight from the carton. He scowled at you and took a glass from one of his cupboards. His hand reached out, but stopped. You waited for the touch to burn you. It didn’t.
“Darlin’, we do have glasses” he mocked you but his hand cupped your face, lips inches apart, when he moved away with a wicked smile.
“Fucking sadist” you whispered and tugged him closer for a quick kiss. He smiled, lethally blinding. The only thing that mattered was him; the kitchen disappeared from view and you shut your eyes closed, getting lost in the moment.
You never talked about your dream to anyone. Even Wanda was forbidden from snooping around there. At least you hoped she didn’t. They were all the more vivid and you thought that you were either falling even harder or you were wishing for something that could never happen in your line of work. You had stopped reporting to Fury – and he knew. You had practically been adopted as the rookie who would help around and on missions but your skills were more intellectual than physical. Now, you could kill, you could fight, maybe not as well as Natasha or Steve but you preferred not to.
Bucky preferred you not to be anywhere near but it wasn’t his choice, after all. He had grown closer, almost attached to your hip but not exactly. There was something missing, something that didn’t exactly fit but you shook it off, as you had done with Steve, and moved on.
Today was one of those effortless days; no worries whatsoever. Tony was insisting on preparing brunch, but him being … him, you all ended up eating a makeshift breakfast. You had been seated on a high stool as you spotted the half-empty carton of juice on the table. You reached out and took it, drinking it straight out of the carton. And then everything was in slow motion, everything was familiar. He rolled his eyes and scowled you, as he took a glass from one of the cupboards. He poured the leftover juice into it and with a mocking smile, handed it to you. But you were too frozen to do anything but look at him, eyes wide open and mind shut.
“What? We do have glasses here” he told you in a funny way as if he had no idea what just happened. The man in front of you was the same fucking person in the same fucking context. But how could that be? Were you predicting the future? Or… had you lived that before?
You took too much time to answer, or even react in a way that they grew worried. But you didn’t know how to reassure them that you were okay because you weren’t. Your mind was playing tricks, one moment you were standing in the tower’s kitchen and the next you were on a stool in a vintage kitchen, small and cozy, with just one man. And then back to now. You tried to hide your face in the obnoxiously big cup of tea you had in front of you, which did not go unnoticed but you just couldn’t cope.
You were wondering whether or not should you respond the way you remembered you had, in your dream, or just let it pass. After a while, you knew Wanda was going to scoop and that why you warned her, quite loudly too. Please, don’t. Don’t. You knew she heard your thought clear as day because her eyes popped and blushed slightly, leaving Pietro wondering what had happened. You let it slide for now and kept your posture while everyone else was having a rather good time.
The whole thing wasn’t dying down any time soon but you needed air to breathe and space to exist. But you also needed an exit strategy. Or rather… a line. You stood up, thanked Tony but not really, and said you were going to start working for a living, meaning you were about to play around in Tony’s lab. No one found anything suspicious. While walking behind Bucky, you slightly leaned in and whispered that line.
“Fucking sadist”. His eyes shot up and his head snapped at you. He recognized it, and you were more than assured that this had happened again. But how, you didn’t know. For now, you were content knowing that at some point in this world, at some distant reality, you had felt his lips on yours. You would come back for answers but for now, you just went out to get a proper coffee. No Avengers.
Lately, you had been feeling rather off, out of touch with reality but you didn’t mind that much. Sometimes you caught yourself daydreaming about images that had flashed before your mind when you were asleep, while others you were just thinking about him. It was just him. Every day, all day.
“Don’t make me use Wanda” Tony warned you out of the blue, startling you and making you look up, avoiding his gaze. He rolled his eyes so hard that you were afraid they were going to get stuck.
“You wouldn’t” you fired back, very much assured that he would not even think about it… but he surprised you.
“Well, it’s not like I need her powers to understand that you have been crushing on Barnes” he outed you without even worrying about people actually listening. You wanted to shush him but that would put you in a difficult position.
“Tony… please don’t” you simply asked of him. It was the first time you saw him worried and perplexed, at a loss of words. But then, corking an eyebrow, he just dropped his job and came to sit next to you. It was his lab, you couldn’t say no.
“Listen, you know that I am not particularly fond of his company – ”
“Tony, you hate the guy” you cut him off, making him arch his eyebrow again in agreement. You smiled but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“All I want to say is be careful” he concluded and made you realize that he did care about his team; well, not everyone, but for the most part, he did.
“Thank you, Tony, but let’s be realistic… I am never going to make a move, and I don’t think he is interested in making one either” you summed up what you had gathered. Tony seemed to disagree with your statement, shaking his head but not saying a word, which was suspicious.
“What? Do you know something?” you pushed further but he just got up and went back to his job.
“Not everything is what it seems, honey” he cynically quoted and left you with a gazillion questions, which he wasn’t going to answer. You knew that he knew something and that Steve knew too. Maybe Natasha, but you weren’t sure, Wanda probably, since she can pretty much-read minds, and therefore Vision as well. Clint had a family, Pietro had god knows how many girls, Thor was in Asgard and Bruce was falling for Natasha. Sam and Rhodey were placing bets for all of you. They all had their own problems to be invested in your non-existent love life.
All it took was a mission gone wrong and Fury was breathing down your neck each day and each night, demanding you report to him every single detail. Which you didn’t. Not everything. Why would it matter that you spent most nights sleeping next to Bucky because it had become a thing after having heard him suffering and barging in without second thought? Why would it matter that you never left that night or any night after that? Why would it matter that he had opened up about his past, slowly revealing all those details that you, somehow, already knew? Why would it matter that Steve was trying to warn his best friend that this was a bad idea and upon confronting him, he went silent and couldn’t even look you in the eye.
Why would it matter to Fury that you had been having all those dreams that seemed so real, vivid, and true to be just that? Why would it matter that you had a beautiful friendship with Wanda and Pietro? Why would it matter that Thor was hitting on you, ever so discretely, but permanent enough to make Bucky jealous? At least you thought he was… or rather, hoped. You really didn’t understand what difference it would make… Maybe if you had been completely honest with Fury, he would never have given you the solo mission. Perhaps, it would have been for the best. Probably not.
Tony was watching you like a hawk, whenever Bucky was in the same room but even he had to admit that whenever you were around he was more of a puppy than an attack dog, and he kind of appreciated that. Deep down, he knew that you and Steve were right about him but his pride and grief didn’t let him say it in so many words. He showed it by calling him by his name, joking with him, and even sitting next to him. Bucky was grateful for every single chance he was given, and every single day he tried his best.
All those little things, you thought of as personal and never disclosed them with Fury. Maybe too personal. They had become your family and you couldn’t just turn on them. As you watched them interact with each other you just saw a big, kind of dysfunctional but very loving family.
“So that’s your thing… you observe” he startled you and you quickly turned around to see a smug-looking face.
“It’s the best tactic” you carefully answered while searching for any kind of sign in his eyes. But he gave you very little. You shouldn’t have hoped for anything more but you were crushing indeed. He kept staring at you, checking you out from head to toe. You could tell that he … at least, appreciated your look. You were wearing a dark red dress with an elegant halter neckline, form-fitting bodice, empire waist, lace-up elastic back, and knee-length skirt. It had a black ribbon sash that garnished your empire waistline providing the perfect finishing touch. A winged eyeliner and bold, dark red lips were all you needed, makeup-wise.
You knew that he was still looking at you when you decided to grab your drink and walk over to the others, leaving him to admire your naked back as you swayed your hips a bit more. It didn’t take him long to join you.
The night went on pretty smoothly. Tony was a rather drunk jerk, Pepper was embraced and slightly angry at him but nothing new there. Wanda and Vision were in a world of their own and no one could blame them; Thor was drinking with Steve, while Clint and Pietro were betting who would pass out first. Rhodey and Sam were comparing their flying style. Bruce and Natasha were flirting shamelessly and you were enjoying your beer while listening to a very talkative Bucky. He hadn’t shut up ever since Steve had brought up old Brooklyn. And all the girls Bucky was seeing… There was cockiness in his voice and pride in his attitude, two things not so usual.
Some people would call that a small party, a gathering, but to you, that was just another Friday night. Everything was perfect until F.R.I.D.A.Y announced one Nick Fury and one Maria Hills. Suddenly, everyone stopped talking and you simply swallowed hard. You felt it in the pit of your stomach. He was there for you. And it was never that simple with Fury.
“You’re having a party and didn’t invite me?” he mocked you, but Tony was faster.
“Sorry, we’re closed. Invitations only” he said very seriously. He was still not big on trusting him and honestly, he was right. You stood up and tried your best to hide behind Bucky’s broad silhouette. He sensed it and was confused but not a moment later, he froze. There was a moment of realization that you would understand later on. He tried to shield you from Fury’s view, while Steve… did the same, as he walked in front of you.
“It won’t take long. I just need to borrow her” he pointed directly at you and a rush of cold air was pushed down your lungs. No, every part of your conscience and subconscious was trying to warn you; it was as if your body was scarred to move. You shook it off and hesitantly walked towards him.
“It’s only gonna take a minute. I’ll be right back” you assured them but the look on Bucky’s face was one of dread. He reached out and grabbed your wrist. Fury rolled his eyes.
“I’ll be in the other room” he informed you but you really didn’t care about him. Your hand was on fire by his touch.
You looked worried as well but you couldn’t understand why. Bucky seemed to know more than he let on but now was not the time. He simply brought you closer to him with desperation. You didn’t know how to react. He had never been that touchy or that straightforward with you.
“Remember this, please” he begged you, and as you were going to ask what, why and other possible questions, he cupped your face and planted a pained kiss on your lips. Your breath was caught on the back of your neck, your mind shut down and your eyes had never closed that fast before. You felt the agony, the emotions flowing towards you, the pain-stained past… you felt him.
He let go, unwillingly. He looked pale as if he had seen a ghost; or maybe you were one. His eyes never left yours and when his hand fell through thin air, his breath hitched, he immediately tried to grab you but Steve called him, ever so softly, that you never heard it clearly. But alas, it had to happen.
Dumbfounded, you walked into the room with Fury, not being able to process anything, still feeling him close but too far away.
“You talk to no one, you change nothing, you come back to your boyfriend and you still say nothing, got it?” he deadpanned but you were too lost to be able to understand any of it.
“What do I do?” you asked purely out of habit. He went into details, nothing too descriptive. You had to use one of the things he gave you to be transported, whatever that meant, in and out of where you were going. You had to find a file with the number 32557038 in a military base and return home. Under different circumstances, you would have declined but you were not in the right mind and all you wanted to do was go back to Bucky and have a do-over. But, alas.
“You’re going now”.
“Press this when you’re ready and press it again when you’re done”. He didn’t give you much of a choice, as he pressed it for you, and you spun around.
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apricity one-shot: the time florence got shot
apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter
warnings: gunshot wound, blood mention, mature language
pairing: bucky barnes x female oc
word count: 2,027
A/N: apricity will have a series of installments of one-shots to give in-depth glimpses of bucky, florence, and their story! this is one. thank you for reading! feedback is welcome!
Bucharest, Romania. 1990
Eight months into the year-long recon mission.
Florence wasn’t a stranger to the searing pain of a gunshot wound or the stinging radiation of a stab wound. She’s taken too many bullets to count, patching herself up in dingy bathrooms, dark back alleys, and now a safe house in Romania.
She stumbled through the barren apartment leaving a trail of blood, the Soldier nowhere to be found. She pushed the bathroom door open with bloody hands, her footing messily stumbled to the sink as she felt hot blood ooze down her hip. She tore off her tactical vest the bullet had managed to go through and peeled the sticky shirt off of her abdomen, the blood making the fabric stick to her skin uncomfortably. Gritting her teeth, she swiped an alcohol pad up the trail of blood, the movement ending at the entry wound.
The bottle of liquor was in front of her on the sink, leftover from the soldier when he had gotten stabbed the week before. She took the bottle in her hand, the glass smearing with blood, and shakily twisted the cap off and taking a long swig before she poured it on the wound. Florence yelped in pain, biting her shirt to quiet her moans of pain and to keep it out of her way. She places the bottle back down on the sink, the glass meeting the porcelain with a clink.
She fishes the tweezers out of the first-aid kit and runs them under the tap, the blood loss not giving her the energy to properly clean them. A deep breath in and then the metal enters the wound, blindly poking and prodding her flesh to try to find the slug of the bullet. Florence bites down on the blood-soaked fabric of her shirt so hard she’s afraid she’ll fracture her own jaw, her hands shaking so uncontrollably that she drops the tweezers into the sink. The shirt drops from her mouth as she leans against the porcelain, catching her reflection in the mirror as she drops her head and takes a deep breath in, closing her eyes.
Something shuffles behind her, she lifts her head slowly to look in the reflection of the mirror behind her. The soldier looms in the doorway, his broad figure taking up the entire space of the door as his eyes scanned the bloody mess of the bathroom. If Florence wasn’t so delirious from the blood loss, she would have noticed the panicked rise and fall of his chest or the mixture of concern, relief, and anger swimming in his eyes as he finally took in her slumped form.
The soldier enters the cramped bathroom without a word and picked the bloody tweezers from the floor. His hand meets Florence’s elbow, gently guiding her to sit on the closed toilet lid, ker skin was paling by the second from blood loss. Bucky reaches in front of her and grabs the whiskey, pouring it over the tweezers. He fishes around the first-aid kit for what, Florence doesn’t know, too busy trying to keep herself upright and not falling onto the floor. The last thing she wanted was for the soldier to carry her out of here like she was helpless.
The soldier found what he was looking for, busying himself with threading a needle to stitch up the wound once he got the bullet out. He hid the shake of his hands well, swallowing down the anxiety that settled in his bones. The thought of something happening to Florence sparked a fire inside if him that would never die out, the embers would always be lit even if it was only a dying ash. Bucky has killed for much less, he wouldn't bat an eye to do it for Florence, it would be the only time he would wash blood from his hands and not end up in a fit of panic. The length Bucky would go for her knew no end, he'd go to the ends of the earth.
He laid out gauze and pads along the sink edge, much more prepared than Florence. He could probably patch up a bullet wound in his sleep, only if he ever did sleep. Florence tiredly watches Bucky as he turns toward her with tweezers in hand, his stormy eyes never meeting hers and his jaw clenching angrily and shoulders tensing, his body rigid. The girl didn’t have the energy to indulge in his anger, she didn’t understand why he was even angry in the first place.
Bucky set the tweezers down on the edge of the sink, his hands dropping down to his belt, fingers working at the buckle. Florence watched in confusion as he undid his belt, metal and flesh fingers sliding it through the belt loops of his dark jeans. He wrapped the leather around his hand before sliding it off and motioning the folded leather towards her mouth, nodding for her to bite down on it.
He picks up the tweezers again and kneels in front of her on one knee, looking at her in a silent apology before he plunges the metal into her flesh. Florence bites down on the leather, eyes screwing shut as she balls her hands up in fists in her lap. Bucky continues to dig, the tweezers hitting a particularly tender spot, Florence’s hand flying to his shoulder and clutching his navy blue shirt, causing the man to pause for a moment and take a deep breath. The tweezers finally catch on something solid, Bucky pulling the bullet out quickly and pushing gauze to the wound as he drops the blood-soaked bullet into the sink, blood splattering across the ivory porcelain.
Florence drops the belt from her mouth, watching as it falls the ground between her and Bucky, who still kept pressure on the wound.
Bucky reaches across himself to grab the needle, finally speaking, “Hold the gauze.” His tone is cold and sharp, a night and day difference from the look in his eyes that expressed that he was scared and worried. Florence could usually read him like a book but now that book had slammed closed and locked itself away.
Florence places her hand over his as she takes over holding the gauze, Bucky sterilizing the needle with the remaining liquor in the bottle. He'd have to buy another tomorrow.
He turns back, fingers prying at her hand to remove the bloody padding as he began to stitch the wound closed, not bothering to warn Florence of the sting of the needle, this was her payback for making him feel like his entire world was ending at the fear of losing her. Only she didn't know that.
Time passed slowly as Bucky stitched her up, Florence gaining more awareness as she watched Bucky’s jaw tick, “I didn’t ask you to help me, so why are you mad? Is it the mess?” Blood was everywhere leading to and in the bathroom, she remembered their first month in the apartment, the soldier had yelled at her about her leaving a dish in the sink, something about not leaving a trace that they had been there. She called him paranoid then and she immediately regretted it when the look on his face read like she had just slapped him.
The soldier clipped the thread and started a new stitch, shaking his head, “No.”
Florence huffed, wincing as the needle plunged through her flesh again, sharp and pulling, “Then what’s wrong with you?”
“You should have been more careful.” Bucky spoke with a clipped tone, not daring to look up at her. If he did, he's afraid he'd crumble right on the floor in front of her.
If breathing didn’t feel like her sternum was going to crack, Florence would have laughed, “Are you kidding? You got stabbed last week and I didn’t say a word.” The soldier had entered the apartment at 3 in the morning clutching his side with one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other and a sour scowl on his face. Florence sat awake on the sofa, she was waiting for him to get home, her anxiety growing as the clock continued to tick, and watched as he stumbled to the bathroom and locked the door. She didn't follow but heard the muttered curses through the thin peeling walls. She didn't sleep at all that night.
Bucky huffed as he finished up the final stitch, “That was different.”
Anger pooled in the girl’s eyes, “Please explain to me how that is different. Enlighten me.”
Blue finally met green, both staring at each other intensely, “It’s different because you are the one that got shot. You should have let me handle the mission today.”
This time Florence did laugh, ignoring the searing pain it sent through her entire body, “You know what? Fuck you. We were sent here to do a mission, that’s what I was doing. Do not treat me like I’m glass.”
Bucky immediately regretted partaking in this argument, he should have stayed quiet, otherwise, right now his feelings wouldn’t be bubbling to the surface, “I never said you were glass. I should have gone with you, protected you.”
All bets were off, Florence’s nerves were fried- frayed and raw and he had just rubbed salt in the wound, “Protected me?! I don’t need protecting! I got shot, end of story.” This conversation sparked a fire in Florence, everything she had been bottling up threatening to explode, taking multiple casualties in its path with no mercy. They were both going to drown in the emotion flooding the air between them.
That was Bucky’s final straw, his jaw ticked, eyes widened and suddenly he was yelling, voice bouncing of the confined walls of the dingy bathroom, “No! Not end of story! When I walked in, I saw a trail of blood and thought the worst, I thought I had lost you, Florence!”
Time froze, Florence’s brain malfunctioning as Bucky’s words sunk in, “You know my name.” All eight months, he called her soldier, never anything else. She silently prayed that eventually he'd recognize her, give her a dose of before, before all of this, and now it was finally happening. She watched as the soldier stood in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth parted like he had just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The two stared in silence before he spoke again, his tone significantly quieter as it trembled and shook with emotion, “I'll forget my own before I ever forget yours." Tears brimmed his eyes, "I remembered it last week. Along with a few more things I can’t place.”
Florence had been off the ice considerably longer than Bucky had before this mission, her memory had already come back to her in chunks. All of him. All of Bucky. Everything.
“What-,” Florence gulped, “What things?” Florence pleaded internally that it wasn’t what she was dreading.
"A ring? All I remember was that it was emerald. I never see the girl I give it to, it’s too blurry. And a pregnant woman? That one is the most confusing.”
Florence now had a vendetta with the universe.
Florence weighed her options of telling him the truth or lying to him, opting to tell him the truth. She settled on only one truth today, she couldn’t handle the other one, not now, “The ring was mine. You and I were together before this. We were engaged, you proposed right before you left for England in the war.”
Bucky only looked at her, a distant look in his eyes, “Oh.” That’s all he had to say, choosing to remain silent as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving Florence to fight the demons herself.
She twisted the lock on the door, slid down to the ground, and sobbed, not caring that Bucky could definitely hear her. Screaming at the universe or any higher being, she begged them to listen, pleading for something, anything. Death, escape, to wake up from this nightmare.
None of it was fair.
That night, Bucky and Florence slept through the night in the same bed for the first time, finding temporary peace in each other’s arms.
Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed!
Tag list: @tanyaherondale @lilyviolets @jckie94 @g-mayunot @geek-and-proud @ginger-swag-rapunzel
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Pedal to the Metal, Baby by buckys_stripper_splits
Bucky and Steve sneak into their apartment’s parking garage to play on Steve’s motorcycle.
Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/ Steve Rogers
Additional Tags: Top Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Light Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, spitting, Dirty Talk, Motorcycle Sex, Bucky Barnes is a Lowkey Power Bottom, Mean Steve Rogers
Words: 2 043 words
Characters: James Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
Lucky charm [Bucky Barnes x Reader] - Requested
Title: Lucky charm
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word count: 3k
Published: 19 June 2021
Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore
Notes: 1940s Bucky and I'm lowkey proud of this fic ^^
Warnings: Mention of dinner, alcohol
Summary: When you first meet Bucky, you only see a man drooling over woman, running after anyone with a skirt. But he captures you immediately and you can’t find it in you to reason with yourself. Before his mission you decide to give him a ‘lucky charm’ hoping for his successful return.
Inspired: [x] by a title ask I have received from @nuttytani
Request: [x] Prompts requested by @nuttytani for my celebration event.
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Fluff #4 - “Did… did you just kiss me?”
Fluff #11 - "Your bed hair is really adorable.”
Fluff #12 - "Aw, you’re blushing.”
Marvel Characters Masterlist | Masterlists
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It was a chilly late evening as you walked across London's streets with Peggy Carter on your side, heading to Whip and Fiddle. You had better things to do then to chase some American superhero, but after hours of convincing from Peggy, you finally gave in. As an independent agent currently working with the British Forces in England, it was now your duty to follow Agent Carter around as though you were her lapdog. You liked the woman, you had nothing against helping her, but you hated useless missions and you especially despised following orders that made no sense to you. Agent Carter was a highly respected member of the Strategic Scientific Reserve with more than enough training to be able to protect herself. Still, you walked beside her on that chilly evening, following her diligently towards a pub you didn't even want to go near, to meet some superhero you didn't even care about.
"Could you keep sighing any louder?" She chuckled lightly, knowing how much you hated following people around.
"I understand how important your presence is, but I did not sign up to be a babysitter. No offence," you exhaled sharply, feeling useless in your situation.
"None taken," she smiled sweetly. "I understand how frustrating it can be, but if you are stuck with me, you could very well lighten up a bit," she winked, trying to lift your mood.
"We are heading to a pub full of drunk people who will stare at us as though we were their prey. I can't seem to understand why any of that should make me lighten up," you scoffed as you adjusted the gun tucked into the band of your skirt behind your back.
"I'm not saying you have to have fun, but think of today as a well-deserved vacation," she tried again, earning a deadpan look from you.
"This is most certainly the farthest possible option from a vacation I'd envision," you huffed as Peggy stepped into the bar, her head held high, attracting people's attention. As you looked around, you had to wander if instead of a pub, you might have missed the direction and stepped into a zoo. Men were shamelessly drooling over Peggy as she walked across the little room, hips swaying in her crimson red dress as she headed towards another adjoining room. Rolling your eyes, you followed her, trying to listen to the sound of your own high heels, hoping it would avert your growing anger from the animals hiding in human bodies.
"Captain," you heard her voice calling for the superhero, a flirtatious tone behind her words. You could barely swallow the chuckle that threatened to erupt from your lungs. Peggy was anything but subtle about her interest in the man.
"Agent Carter," he replied, his tone holding confidence. You stepped inside the adjourning room, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed in front of your chest as you caught sight of the Captain with a slight blush across his cheeks, his eyes awkwardly studying every inch of the Agent, the confidence in his voice barely reflecting his nervous state. If it wasn't for your training, you would have missed it. The Captain could have seemed confident to a simple bystander, he could have fooled anyone, but to you, the way he fidgeted with his hands under his sleeve, the frequent, long bobbing of his Adam's apple and the tiny sweat drops on his forehead gave him away. The man was more than interested in Peggy.
But you couldn't hear the rest of their conversation, nor did you care as you already knew about their mission. Your attention however was more occupied when you caught sight of the man beside the superhero, his broad shoulders and confident stance projecting power. For a second you thought you liked what you saw, but that was only until you realised his eyes hungrily running over the Agent's figure, shamelessly staring at her curves. You imitated a gagging sound, more to yourself than for anyone to see.
"I see your top squad is prepping for duty," Peggy spoke up, referring to the drunken team members across the pub, but her eyes stayed intensely attached to the Captain.
"You don't like music?" The other man cut in before Rogers could reply, his eyes almost undressing Peggy.
"I do actually," she replied, her gaze never leaving the Captain's as though they were the only ones in the room. "I might— when this is all over— go dancing," she added suggestively, hoping Rogers would understand her indications. But before he could have said anything, the other man once again interrupted them.
"Then what are we waiting for?" He asked, clearly not understanding Peggy's interest in the Captain. You found it both humorous and somewhat pathetic.
"The right partner," she replied, her gaze watching the superhero with an inviting gaze, her words causing a loud fit of laughter to erupt from your lungs, this time having no time to stop it. All three heads turned to you with a questioning look as you tried to hide your laughter behind your palm.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt the show, please feel free to continue," you snickered as you removed an escaped drop of tear from the corner of your eyes, your vision slightly blurred. It took you a good few seconds to calm down, but as you finally regained yourself and lifted your gaze, in that instance, you felt the air get knocked out of your chest as you caught the other man's mischievous blue eyes. A charming grin started spreading across his face, turning into a rather cocky smile.
"Where have you been hiding this pretty little thing?" He asked his friend, but his eyes never left yours. With slow steps he headed in your direction, his smirk growing wider, hypnotising you. You have seen a few too many good-looking people throughout your career, but as you stood in front of the Captain's friend, you had to admit, he was possibly the most handsome man you have ever met. He stopped right in front of you, barely leaving any gap between you as he sneaked his fingers around your hand. "If you don't mind, I would like to introduce myself. James Buchanan Barnes," he spoke as he hinted a small kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes attached to yours, watching every single tiny movement you could have made. "But you can call me Bucky," he smirked.
"James it is then," you added with a tiny smile in the corner of your lips as you introduced yourself as well, earning a deep chuckle from Bucky.
"What a beautiful name. I have a feeling we will get along just fine," he replied even more confidently than before, gently squeezing your hand that he was still holding onto. "Would you like to drink something? I would be honoured to get to know you better," he held his hand out towards the bar, as though he was offering you anything you could ever ask for. But the playful little glint in his eyes reminded you to be cautious. You knew the type of man he was, running after anyone with a skirt.
"If I didn't think you were a gentleman, I'd believe your intentions are anything but pure and innocent," you raised a questioning brow.
"For you I would become a priest," he replied as he licked across his lower lip, his cocky smirk never faltering.
"And how many times have you used that line before?" You asked, squinting suspiciously.
"It's the first time," he nodded proudly.
"I'm inclined to believe you have offered to become various things to various women," you bit on your bottom lip playfully, his intense gaze burning your cheeks as his eyes wandered to your lips.
"But never a priest," he wiggled his brows playfully, earning a loud chuckle from you as you shook your head.
"Unfortunately, we have to leave," Peggy added with a small smile.
"You forced me to come with you and told me to have fun and when I finally enjoy myself, you want to drag me away?" You asked with a mischievous smile as you took a quick glance at the woman, before you focused your attention on Bucky again. "Well, unfortunately she is right. We have to take care of a couple of other things, before your briefing tomorrow," you added as you watched his eyes grow wider.
"Agent?" Peggy called for you, Bucky's head whipping around in a swift motion.
"Agent?" He asked, stunned as he turned back to you. "Will you be at the meeting?" He asked as he finally started to process your title.
"Wouldn't miss it," you smiled, pulling your hand out of his hold and walked out of the bar with Peggy on your side, without even glancing back at the mischievous man.
"James, huh?" Peggy offered you a knowing look, earning a scoff from you.
"Hey, I'm not planning on marrying him, but he is certainly good to look at," you shrugged, trying to hide your smile and regain your usually strict features, but you found it rather difficult.
"I didn't say anything," she replied after a moment of silence as she studied your face, a small smile growing across her pretty face.
"Stop staring at me, Agent," you said, but she didn't seem to care about your 'polite' request, she just kept smiling to herself, which left you groaning.
As the next morning arrived, the meeting room of the headquarters filled up with people. There were soldiers, sergeants, agents, captains, and everyone that basically mattered and had anything to do with the upcoming mission. It was rather packed, and you didn't want to take a seat between the two generals who had a spitting problem, so instead you leaned against the wall and waited for some of the missing members to arrive whilst studying your notes.
Reading through some of the key orders in your notebook, you lost yourself in planning some tactics. Your mind was so occupied when a man decided to stand beside you, inch by inch reducing the proximity.
"Morning," you heard a deep voice and immediately looked up, meeting Bucky's eyes. He wore a lazy, lopsided smile, his hair a mess, his eyes seemingly too tired to stay open.
"Aw, long night?" You asked, smirking at the man as a low growl left his lungs.
"Don't even. I can't even remember how much I drank. I'm surprised I didn't wake up in a hospital," he huffed, earning a chuckle from you. "I feel like shit," he scoffed as he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. "Sorry about the language," he quickly apologised for his swearing.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, your bed hair is really adorable," you smirked up at him as his eyes shot open, meeting your twinkling gaze. "Oh my, you're blushing," you snickered at the faint pink colour covering his cheeks.
"Adorable?" He asked with a questioningly arched brow. "That is not something a man likes to hear," he pouted, his face contorting in a grimace, but if anything, his childish sulking was even cuter.
"Men and their big ego," you heaved a heavy sigh as you turned back to your notes, the corner of your mouth curving into a tiny smile as you scribbled down some ideas. But Bucky wasn't done yet.
"It's not that it's a bad word, but a man wants to feel handsome, masculine, and sexy. If you said my bed hair was sexy, I would have liked it more," he offered you a challenging gaze as though he wanted you to repeat his words, but you weren't about to give in.
"Barnes, is it?" You asked, though you knew his name already, you couldn't have forgotten. "A second before I complimented you, you said you felt like shit and I could have gone and said you looked like actual shit, but I was being kind. So, if I were you, I would just accept the compliment and put a lock on my mouth," you offered him a faux smile and turned back to your notes.
"Feisty," he chuckled at your monologue. Leaning down to you, his lips caressed the shell of your ear, making you shiver. "I like that," he said with a smug grin across his face as he pulled away, making you roll your eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. But you couldn't stop the tiny little butterflies from appearing in the pit of your stomach, nor could you halt your heart from starting off at a heavy pace and your cheeks feeling warmer.
Without any further comment from either of you, the meeting has begun, your complete attention focusing on all the details you dotted down. You could have sworn Bucky's eyes fell on you repeatedly, but you ignored his gaze and forced yourself to listen to every word the generals discussed, trying to ignore the distraction Bucky's presence beside you caused.
The meeting finished fairly quickly and after most of the attendees left the room, you decided to head to your office, Bucky trailing behind you in a healthy distance.
"Can I help you," you asked as you turned around to face him, his steps halting. He wore a wide smirk as his eyes met yours, but no words left his lips, not even a sound. "Well, that is helpful," you scoffed as you turned around and continued your way to your office.
As soon as you arrived, you left the door open and sat down behind your desk, rearranging some of your documents. Bucky entered the room as well, not even waiting for an invitation. He knew you left the door open for him, he didn't debate that.
"Are you planning on speaking, or do you find enjoyment in staring at me?" you raised a brow questioningly, earning a half-scoff, half-laugh from him.
"Actually, I do enjoy looking at you," he shrugged nonchalantly. "It's a beautiful view."
"Oh, please, has that line ever worked?" You laughed as you shook your head.
"Never tried before, but from your expression, it seems it is," he wiggled his brows playfully, before he took a seat in the chair across your table. "Regardless of my shameful staring, I did have a question for you," he added, making you frown.
"Okay, what would that be?" You asked as you leaned forward and propped your elbows on the table, placing your chin in your palm as you waited for him to speak.
"I was wondering—," he started, but paused momentarily, "if you'd let me take you out for dinner," he said, his eyes watching you intently, for a moment even making you forget your own name.
"Erm—," you cleared your throat as you looked at the watch on your wrist. "Don't you have a mission to attend to in about 5 hours from now?" You asked.
"After the mission, of course," he chuckled playfully, though you could see his nerves, the way he fidgeted with his fingers, regardless of how confident he showed himself to be.
"You are going to have to return first," you offered him a playful smile, though deep down you didn't even want to think of a scenario where he didn't return.
"I will, if you say yes," he gave you a questioning look.
"That's not very fair," you chuckled at his silliness.
"I never said I play fair," he bit on his lower lip, impatiently waiting for an answer.
"Fine, but you better prepare your pocket, I like my food," you said, earning a wholehearted laughter from him.
"I will keep that in mind," he replied, his gaze lost in yours, for a moment just enjoying your presence beside him. Your heartbeat pulsed in your ears, your palms felt sweaty. You wanted to say something, but before you could, he quickly cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I should go," a nervous chuckle left his lungs as he stood up from your table and headed towards the exit. A part of you wanted to stop him and tell him to return safely, whilst the other felt too proud to move or even let out a sound.
But your pride quickly got shoved to the back of your mind as your legs moved on their own. Standing up from your table, you quickly closed the distance between you and grabbed his wrist, turning him around. A shocked expression sat across his face, but you didn't wait for him to steady himself. Standing on your tiptoes, you cupped his face and pressed your lips against his. He gasped into the kiss, but he quickly collected himself, his arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer as he enjoyed the feel of your soft lips against his chapped ones, the warm and slow touch you offered him, your thumbs caressing his cheeks as his fingers drew small circles on your lower back.
As you parted, his cheeks were painted in a darker shade of pink, his lips falling open, shock clearly written across his face. "Did... did you just kiss me?" He asked as his small, but proud smile grew wider.
"Well, I'm not sure what you call it in America, but in England, yes, it is called a kiss," you snickered.
"Why?" He questioned, stunned, his arms still wrapped around you as your hands rested on his chest. He didn't want to let you go, he didn't want to go back to reality. But you didn't mind. You had to admit, it was too comfortable to get lost in his arms, enjoying his strong hold around you.
"Take it as a lucky charm so you can return in one piece," you giggled, slightly nervous about your boldness, but his increasing grin made your nerves settle.
"There's nothing that can stop me from coming back," he said, his smile radiating positivity, making your cheeks flush. He leaned down and pecked your lips, only for a moment, before he pulled back.
"Good," you replied as he let go of you, but reached for your hand to kiss the back of it, his eyes still connected to yours, keeping your attention only to himself. "Good luck," you breathed softly, earning a playful wink from him, before he turned around and left you in your office, giggling to yourself as though you were a child once again.
Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^
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Taglists are in reblog from now on. Send me a message if you would like to be added :)
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So hello guys!!
There is a Bucky Barnes piece on its way. It's two parts and approximately 20k words. Yeah it's big.
It is exactly what you think. If you scroll down my page you will see it too.
I am done with the first part (10k) and I am so happy to begin the second one.
Soft, precious, unaware and hopeful Bucky is a treasure.
Be ready when it drops.
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This crossover stared me in the face and has been living in my brain rent-free since 2015. I don’t know if there’s anyone else on this planet who will understand why but it compels me.
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || ❝𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙩 n. — a strong desire to travel❞ or, the one where bucky documents his adventures through journalling.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || fluff, angst, implied sexy times in later chapters, explicit language, illness, mentions of injury. all chapters come with their own warnings. minors dni.
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || so, this was inspired by my own wanderlust but thanks to the pandemic my dreams have been put on hold so a lot of the things featured in this series come from dreams of my own. add yourself to the taglist or send me an ask.
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 (COMING JUNE 19TH 7PM GMT)
taglist || @tinymalscoffee @starbxcks @romantizzity
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a forehead kiss from bucky barnes would solve every single one of my fucking problems
specifically from this bucky era, because we both going through it but he'd still tell me everything is going to be okay
i just want to hug him so tight fuck
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Stuck A/B/O Series Part 1
Stuck (Alpha!Stuckyx Omega!fem!reader) Series
Part 1-a rock and hard places
!!! T.W.: physical abuse by parent, emotional abuse by both parents, A/B/O dynamics, language, hurt and comfort. insecure reader, reader needs a hug from her Alphas, Polyamory.
Part 1: A Rock and Hard places
A/N: Y/N’s parents names are Annie and Joseph
This was a horribly bad idea. But Gods you needed them. They were everything to you. And in truth, you were everything to them and more. You seethed at the thought of not being completely theirs. Being stuck inside this limbo, this constant back and forth. You were the only Omega living in the compound that was unclaimed. You were a tennis ball and the rackets were your parents' house and the Avengers Compound. But ever since your father had that foundation shaking car accident on his commute to work when you were in your senior year of high school, you felt obligated, dutiful as you are the only child they had. Your parents were not the typical dynamic couple. Your mother is an Alpha and your father is a Beta. The accident left him wheelchair bound and your tiny family of three financially crippled. For five months you'd follow the pattern of going to school, coming home, doing whatever you could in the house as chores, homework that needed your immediate attention, Mom calling you out from the house to visit Dad a hour away in the hospital. He didn't look the same at all. He was this swollen monster hooked up to numerous machines, all equipped with their own monotonic melodies.
Your friends from highschool barely knew, you'd put your emotional mask on the moment you would spot them walking to the bus stop in the morning. Soft giggles, smiles, and inside jokes is what you armed yourself with. You couldn't let the storm break through, you could never tell them about your dad. About how he'd had a seizure the night before but came out of it okay. About how he cried and said he was sorry when he woke up. About how you had to be strong for your mother too. Your friends didn't need that, they didn't want that kind of drama put onto them. The only drama they knew about was how the cliques did or didn't get together to form alliances to defeat the Preppy bitches or whomever was dumb enough to fuck with the little guys. You surprised yourself by passing even if it was just barely. You'd graduated and it didn't even feel right. You'd felt cheated by fate. You remember one night during choir in highscool, your last performance, looking into the crowd to see if they'd showed up and weeping when you didn't find their faces. That stinging pain in your chest and eyes watered over when you heard your choirmates wave to their family members attending. You should have gotten a clue then, that, something wasn't alright with your parents and that you deserved better.
But that was a million light years away from what was happening now. You never knew you'd be joining the company of THE AVENGERS. If anything in your life went right, it was that. And you were grateful for the opportunity to be with them. They felt like a breath of fresh air, more so like you were breathing for the first time. You found great friendship in Wanda and were more closed off to Nat, but warmed up to her eventually. You weren't a tomboy and weren't a girly girl either. Rather you found yourself in the middle. You'd gotten there from one of your days out grocery shopping. Wanda was the one who'd recruited you, having a freak accident with a bicycle paperboy and a Mack truck almost happen before your eyes. You did it like normal, a reflex in both muscle and thought. Seeing it just about to collide in front of you, bringing your arms forward and flashing your fingers outward, like magic it had stopped.
Your arms still full with grocery bags, you had to act fast, after all you only had 45 seconds and the clock was ticking. You weren't even sure you had the strength. Ten seconds gone. You grab the Paperboy's arms and tug, working against the stillness of your powers and the gravity weighing him down. Ten more seconds gone. You wished you'd paid more attention in gym class as you tugged budging him just enough. This time giving it all you had, you heaved and, in the knick of time saved him. The Mack truck whooshing by as if nothing would have happened. The paperboy was wildly angry with you, not the praise you'd expected from saving the gentleman. You could pause time momentarily. Wanda came up to you and gave you her number. By nighttime you were invited to a Tony Stark gala.
That’s right, the fucking Tony Stark wanted to see you, just some Omega treading water in New York City. You were surprised your mother even let you go, but in hindsight you figured she couldn’t pass up the chance to have her Omega daughter be seen and scented in a superhero Alpha den like the Avengers Tower. She’d used you to tell all her co-workers that you went to a Stark gala just to advance her Alpha ego. Your relationship with your mother was beyond fractured. poisoned from the word go.
Having a birth mother be an Alpha was pretty rare. you were born too early as a result. Her own Alpha hormones saw you as a threat, tried to attack you from within the womb. the both of you were essentially killing each other. She almost lost her life when you were born. and you were left with severely scarred lungs. You were born at 26 weeks. An impossibly tiny baby girl clinging to life, weighing only 1 pound and 5 ounces. You stayed in the NICU for the first three months of your life. Steve and Bucky, your Alphas said you were born a fighter. But you didn’t see it.
They were your rocks, they made you so happy. if it was up to you, you would have been claimed by them by now, but both your perfect Alphas, were traditionalists. You couldn't blame them for that nature, not only were they Alphas, but they were both from the 40s. After all that’s why you were here back at home, to take care of your father and to ask for their permission to be claimed by Steve Rogers and James Barnes. Steve was one of the most esteemed Alphas in history but your other Alpha, the scarred one, Bucky that’s what you thought your parents would have trouble with. This is going to be a disaster, they’d never say yes to you being claimed by Bucky. Sure he was an Alpha and by today’s standards polyamorous relationships have been more widely accepted.
You were so afraid of what your parents might think about his reputation as the Winter Soldier, you wept by yourself in your room for it. You loved him so much there was no way you could think of a future without him. Not without both your Alphas by your side, together for the rest of your years. You wanted that so bad, and you wanted to have their pups. They’d be such great Alpha Dads. But that felt like a fucking pipedream. It took everything you had to be here and say those words to them tonight. To ask permission like a good, docile, Omega that you were raised to be.
Dinner was finished and you decided it was now or never, your palms clammy and your throat dry. You took a sip of water, chills traveling at lightning speed up and down your spine. Your Mom noticed this and didn’t let it slink past her. She was an Alpha after all.
“You reek of nervousness, Y/N. What’s on your mind?” she asked. You cleared your throat as your father perked up, staring at you with a curious intrigue. You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, you found yourself choking on your words. they were stuck inside your throat. You averted eye contact. A growl came from across the dinner table, a primal sign forcing you to spit out your words.
“I-I wanted to ask your permission. to be, um. To be c-c-claimed by Steve Rogers, a-a-an-and B-B-Bucky Barnes.” you struggled to force the words out. Your mother’s eyebrows raised at Steve’s name but clenched together at the mention of Bucky’s. You fucking knew it. You knew this was a bad idea. you almost broke then and there.
but you had no time to sort out your emotions. And they spoke to each other as if you weren’t in the room. Only acknowledging your presence periodically to answer their questions.
Annie: "I've never seen her work hard for anything."
Joseph: "You're running into a trainwreck"
Annie: "What? What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/N? That's not natural, she has to pick one. Joseph she is like this because you always let her get away with shit!!"
Joseph: "Like hell Annie, maybe if you would have let her hang out with her friends more often she wouldn't act out by falling for bad boys."
Annie: "He's a criminal Joseph! She fell in love with a stone cold murderer!"
Annie: "God how are they gonna get any money? Or- or health insurance?! You know what kind of meager wages they make." Annie claps her hand to her face gasping in silent realization," oh my god, are you pregnant? Is that why you're doing this? A super soldier's pup?! Jesus I thought we taught you better than that!"
You: "What? No, I'm not pregnant. But why would it matter if I was? Steve and Bucky, they--"
Annie: " they what? Love you? I knew you were stupid but not that stupid."
Joseph: "Look sweetheart, we care about you. You've still got time to make a decision. At least you're not pregnant. We all know how your aunt Rhonda turned out. You wouldn't survive in the streets, hungry, alone, and ready to pop like a balloon. We don't want that for you."
You: "They'd never abandon me like that. We've never had an argument and they'd never hit me. Not in a million years."
Joseph: "Never had an argument? Y/N, You're stuck in a fairytale, sweetheart. That can't be real. It won't last"
Annie: "You need to go back to school! Quit keeping your head in the clouds with them. How long have you even known them?"
You: "three years is long enough, Mom." your voice was so quiet, any amount of hope you had mustered up before was being shattered.
Annie: " yet you've never lived with them? What's the longest amount of time you've spent with them?"
You: " there was a couple times I was able to spend the weekend with them alone. Mom, they're always busy. They save the-- no. We save the world from countless bad people. You have no idea what kind of stress we have to deal with."
Annie- scoffs "Stress? You want to talk about stress? The neighborhood wouldn't give us the time of day because of you! I worked so hard to get you to learn but nothing ever stuck! I can't believe I gave birth to such a retarded abomination! You've always been a freak! Y/N! I had a job at 14. 14! You're 26 and you're frolicking around with, Superheroes?! Get a fucking life! I had to take care of you because you were always sick! Working dead beat jobs just to put food in your mouth and clothes on your back and medicine in your system because your too feeble. You can't handle that. The real world is gonna chew you up and spit you out buttercup! Look at me when I'm talking to you!!"
Annie slaps you across the cheek and your glasses go flying across the room. She grabs your hair tightly and close to the root slapping your face continuously. You are crying uncontrollably you don't notice your lip is busted and bleeding. You have to pause the situation. You do, and you run out of that place, didn’t think about going back to grab your shoes. Your phone was in your pocket and you tugged it out into your palm shaking.
You couldn’t bring yourself to dial Steve or Bucky’s numbers, you couldn’t believe what had just happened, but part of you knew it would end like this. Your mom has been abusing you off and on since you presented as an Omega at 13. you had no idea why she treated you so bad. Aren’t Alphas supposed to protect Omegas? It was snowing outside and all you had on your feet was a pair of socks.
You followed the sidewalks of blocks until you found the Avengers Compound just outside the main part of the city resting near the river. You felt like a broken phantom of yourself. A shell lost in space. Nat opened the door and you couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact.
She immediately noticed your busted lip and bruises starting to form on your jawline. Her scent was mildly comforting since Nat was an Alpha too but you needed your Alphas. Nat brought you into the compound.
“Y/N? What happened? Where are your glasses? Your shoes? Who did this to you?” She crouched down, peering up at you as tears started to form on your features. Your teeth chattered wildly, frigid from exposure to the elements.
You started to hyperventilate and thought you might pass out. You needed Steve and Bucky right now. Experiencing this kind of trauma without the support of your Alphas, could be deadly. Nat knew this and yelled out for them. You’re sure your distressed scent had wafted through the entire complex by now. Most of the avengers were in the living room, keeping their distance. no one wanted a fight to break out with you in such rough shape and your Alphas seeing you like this.
You heard their heavy footsteps but couldn’t bring yourself to look at them. Steve’s scent hit your nose first, Musk and the kind of smell you associated with an Irish Pub. His hand went straight to your own. Nat left to get some blankets.
“Omega-Darling? Baby Girl, Who did this?” Steve tried to get you to speak but you were still lost. Bucky made it to you last, staring at you from the threshold of the hallway, his features shocked and confused.
Bucky walked up to you, his hand cradling your cheek very gently. He’d had more than enough experience of being out-of-it, so he could pull you out better than Steve. Bucky gingerly dragged your nose to his scent gland, on his neck, purring to calm you. He smelled like cedar and forest rains.
“Doll?” he uttered and that was enough to break you. Your knees gave out and Bucky caught you, cradling you tight to his chest. You sobbed and wailed like a defeated animal. Steve stood in shock, anger brewing and bubbling beneath the surface. Nat returned with the blankets, fresh and unscented by anyone. She got too close however and Steve snapped at her. growling possessively and even his claws came to the surface.
“Back off, Nat. She’s our Omega. We take care of her.” he warned ending his sentence with a firm growl.
“Shhh. Shhh. Hey. It’s alright, ‘Mega. We’re here. Both your Alphas are here.” Bucky cooed as he took you down the hallway. Steve followed close behind. You needed the safety of your nest and your Alphas. Bucky sat on the bed cradling you in his chest, continuing to purr until you stopped crying. Steve scented blankets and draped them over your shivering form, grabbing your hand and stroking it gently with his thumb. Steve too was on the bed, as close as he could get to you and Bucky.
it was an hour before you could regain some sense about you. Steve perked up, noticing something change in your features.
“Alphas?” you questioned. Steve let out a gasp of relief, smiling bittersweetly. Happy to see his Omega back.
“They said no, Alphas. They said no. M-Mom was so angry. She hit me. I just wanna be a good Omega. I just wanna be a good Omega.” you were starting to lose yourself again.
Steve leaned in and began fervently kissing and licking your scent gland, where he was supposed to put his claim. “Their opinion doesn’t matter. they hurt you. We’ll make it all better my sweet Darling Omega.” preened your Cap.
“You’re an amazing Omega, Y/N.” Bucky said softly.
“You don’t mean that.” you choked out feeling so insecure in that moment.
“Yes you are Baby Girl. You’re the best Omega we could hope for. We love you so much.” Cap continued his encouragement.
“I love you too. Both of you. I can’t live without you...Alphas? Do you mind if we stay like this for a while?” you asked.
“Of course,” your Alphas replied in unison. You knew you’d have to tell them every detail. but you were drained and didn’t have the mental stamina left. You just drowned in their beautiful scents and fell fast asleep in your nest, with them watching over you. They’d protect you, they’d keep you safe, and that was all that mattered.
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Don't Worry About It
Summary: When your mom asks you to relieve the babysitter; you weren't expecting it to be a different one than usual.
AU: Babysitter!Bucky x Reader
AN: To clarify, both are of age, I'm thinking mid 20s. Requests and asks always open! Feedback and reblogs are appreciated.
Gif not mine
"Can you please just-" Your mom took a deep breath from the other end of the phone. "Go to the house and relieve the babysitter, please? I'll be home in an hour at the most."
"Yes, I'm locking up now. Don't worry about it." You said as you pulled the glass door of your work closed. "Thank you, I will pay you back when I get home."
When you walked into your mom's house it was quiet, meaning your kid brother Toby had already went to bed.
Making your way to the kitchen, you heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway; not looking up from your phone as you texted your mom.
"I'm sorry it's so late. My mom got stuck at the office and I just g-" You stopped when you saw a pair of boots instead of the flats the usual baby sitter wore.
Looking up, you're eyes were met with bright blue ones, a timid smile playing on the brunette's lips as he stuffed his left hand in the pocket of his jeans. "It's fine. He fell asleep early."
"You're... not Mallory." You noted, the much taller man pressing his lips together and shaking his head lightly. "I'm, uh, Bucky." He reached his right hand out to shake yours gently.
You gave him a light smile before clearing your throat and tearing away from his gaze. "Anyways, Bucky, sorry for making you stay so late. Last minute change to my mom's schedule." You said breathing a laugh, digging in your wallet.
"I'm guessing it's 140?" You asked, glancing up at him. He gave a quiet 'yeah' and nodded as you continued to dig in your wallet for his payment.
"Shit- I only have 120 on me." You cursed, grabbing your bag to search for any loose change. "That's fine." Bucky shrugged, shoving his other hand in his pocket.
You shook your head. "No, no it isn't. I don't like owing people money." You exhaled, scraping up another three dollars. "I can go to the ATM?"
He shook his head and cleared his throat lightly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated what he was going to say. "Just, uh- let me take you out for coffee and we'll call it even."
You narrowed your eyes at him, footsteps padding down the hall. "You're not leaving already, are you?" Toby said from the doorway, rubbing his eye. "Toby, its already 11pm. I'm sure he wants to get home." You sighed, leaning to look behind Bucky as Toby walked to stand beside him.
"Did he show you his cool arm?" He beamed, a wide smile nearly hiding the tired look in his eyes. Bucky's cheeks tinted red at your brothers question. "No, he didn't. Now, go back to bed."
Toby tugged at Bucky's left elbow, making him chuckle nervously at the young boy. "You gotta show her, Bucky. It's so cool, she'll love it and you can take her on a date. Then you can come over all the ti-"
"Toby, bed. Now."
His lips turned down in a frown, Bucky's cheeks burning red from being put on the spot. "Sorry about him, and for being late." You started searching through your purse again. "And also being short on the mon- fuck."
You jerked your hand out of the bag when your finger scratched across a paper clip. "You ok?" Bucky stepped forward, reaching his hands out towards yours.
Your eyes caught the gleam of his left hand for just a second, before he tucked it out of sight behind his back. "Yeah, just never listened to my mom about leaving paper clips in my bag." You said breathing a laugh.
"Here." He reached his right hand toward the stack of napkins on the counter and grabbed one, holding it to your finger. "Thanks."
"Don't worry about it." He kept his eyes on your finger, not wanting to look directly at you in hopes you hadn't noticed him trying so hard to hide his hand.
"Saturday good with you?"
Bucky's eyes went wide as he looked at you. "What?" He said, shocked. "The date. To call it even."
Another tint of pink washed over his cheeks and he nodded with a light smile. "Yeah, perfect."
"Great." You smiled. "Well, it's just a scratch, and I'm sure you're very ready to go home. Ten hours of Toby can be exhausting."
He breathed a laugh and shrugged as he followed you to the front door. "He definitely has a lot of energy. It was fun though."
"Has an imagination for days." You pulled the door open and Bucky walked out onto the porch, turning to look at you once he was at the bottom of the stairs.
"I'm filling in for Mallory for her two week vacation, so... See you tomorrow?"
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