#jealous!sam wilson

[buckyalpine]

Can you not...

18+ minors dni

Bucky x female reader

Your ex is trying to win you back, wonder what Bucky thinks about that? I LOVE THIS, tried to get the whole message but it got cut off :( For my very lovely @slutforsexyseabass .  Warnings: Fluff, Angst (mentions of cheating, swearing, lil violence), Mentions + illusions to smut, daddy kink  

Word count: 3.9k

Part 2 here

the supply closet

You groaned looking at the flowers that were waiting for you at your desk as you plopped down in your chair. You opened the little note that sat on your keyboard, already knowing who the flowers were from.

               Thought of you, hope you have a good day :)

-          Mark

Mark. Your ex, who also happened to work in the same office as you. In fact that’s how you met; you joined the company 3 years ago and Mark was the first one to greet you and show you around.  He brought you coffee in the mornings and soon enough he got your number and you’d started dating. Everything was fine until you caught him 6 months with his tongue down the secretary’s throat, hands shoved up her skirt, in the supply closet. I mean, at least have the decency to cheat at the office Christmas party like everyone else?

Safe to say the relationship ended immediately after but Mark was determined to win you back, blaming his slip up due to the stress of the job (as a fucking accountant? Ok Mark). He always circled around you, restocking your papers, pens, brining your coffee, which to this day, he still got wrong.

“Did you like the flowers?”

Mark sauntered over to your desk, after passing by at least 15 times hoping you’d talk to him first.

“Mhm, they’re nice. Thank you” You gave him a tight lipped smile as he stood there wanting to prolong the conversation.

“I remember you said you liked flowers and I saw some this morning, thought of you”

“Mark I-

“Y/n, seriously, nothing behind it, just thought of you, that’s all”

“That was nice of you” You nodded, excusing yourself to go to the restroom, hoping he’d be back in his cubicle by the time you got back.

Aside from the cheating, the other problem was Mark never actually did anything for you just because he thought of you. He’d never brought you flowers until you said you liked them. Then he told you that was lame and old fashioned but “fine I guess, I’ll get you some even if it’s corny”. He’d gotten you flowers maybe once after that and never bothered again until after the incident.

You returned to your desk, only to find something else on your desk waiting for you.

Thought you might like a snack!

-          Mark

You glared at the slice of banana bread at your desk. You hated banana bread unless it was homemade and with chocolate chips. Which you’d told him plenty of times but he had the attention span of a squirrel. You poked at the slice, deciding to wrap it and stuff it in your bag for Sam instead; he never said no to food.

As soon as it was 4:00, you dashed from your desk to make your way home, pretending you didn’t hear your name being called from the elevator; you didn’t have the energy to tell him for the 100th time you didn’t want to rekindle things and you had a boyfriend. That could eat him as an afternoon snack. You speed walked back home, fiddling with the keys, gasping when the door swung open.

“Welcome home babydoll”

Bucky pulled you into his arms, kissing you all over, having returned from a month long mission that afternoon. You threw your things to the floor, wrapping your arms around him as he picked you up and jumped onto the couch.

“Welcome home to you too sergeant” All the stresses of the day washed away immediately as soon as you were in Bucky’s arms. Your skirt rode up as you shifted to straddle him, kissing him deeply. He started to unbutton your blouse, slipping his hands under to feel your warm skin, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.

“I missed you so much baby”

“I missed you too James”

You stayed on the couch for a while, softly cuddling and kissing each other; something you loved doing when he came home from long missions.

“Oh! Here, I got you something”

Bucky got up from the couch, rummaging through his duffle bag, pulling out a small gift box. He grabbed the roses he’d left at the table, sitting back down again, pulling you onto his lap.

“Bubba, you didn’t need to-

“Shh, just open it”

You opened the small box, gasping at the ring that sat in the box. The gold band had a sun just like the one from your favourite movie Tangled, with a small sparkling diamond in the middle.

“Bucky…” You looked at him with glassy eyes, as he slipped the ring on your, kissing your temple.

“For my princess that I searched for my whole life”  

 “Baby, you didn’t have to get me roses too” You blinked back tears, looking at the flowers he brought you; he always came back with something for you and a bouquet of fresh flowers.

 “I will always get you flowers baby doll, they’re pretty just like you”

 2 years ago

Mark wasn’t prince charming, it definitely wasn’t a loss when you broke up with him but being cheated on still took a toll on you. You decided to swear off dating for a while until your friend introduced you to a very handsome super soldier.

“Look, you don’t have to come but Cass and AJ miss you. It’s not even a lot of people; it’s just Sam and his friend”

“The friend that Sam keeps saying is a pain in his ass?”

“All out of love, just come for dinner, you’ve been locked up in your house for long enough”

You rolled your eyes as Sarah laughed, knowing damn well you’d say yes to anything involving her kids.

***

“Aunty y/n!!” You were immediately tackled to the floor by the two boys, hugging you, and jumping with excitement before being effortlessly pulled up by a strong metal arm. You looked up, seeing the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes you’d ever seen looking down at you, and perfect pink lips turned up into a playful smirk.

“Hi, I’m Bucky”  

Oh, you were a goner.

On your first date, he showed up at your door with flowers, a gorgeous bouquet of red roses, not because you told him, but because he wanted to.

“I-sorry, I know it might seem cheesy but you’re the first girl I’ve gone out with in a really long time and I wanted to get you something nice and they’re pretty just like you so I-

You pulled him down for a long kiss, your heart already fluttering; that was the first time of many ways he made sure you knew how special you were to him.

Present

 You cuddled with Bucky for a moment longer before putting the roses in some water and making your way over to change while he got started on dinner. You insisted on making it yourself but he refused, sending you off to shower and change. You piled your plate high with food, settling onto the couch with your comfort show playing in the background as you both ate. Another thing; he was amazing in the kitchen. After years of blandness and only eating enough for sustenance, he refused to eat anything that didn’t have flavour, especially after living with Sam and Sarah for a while.

 You’d completely forgotten about the flowers Mark had brought you after you mindlessly left them on the coffee table. Bucky glanced at them, with a sneaking suspicion before turning to you.

“Flowers?”

“Ugh, yeah, from Mark” Suspicions confirmed.

“Isn’t that your ex?”

“Yup, that would be the one”

Bucky shook his head at the pathetic flowers; they weren’t even ones you liked. Not that he wanted Mark to try and win you back but c’mon. At least put in a little more effort into your pathetic grovelling.

“He’s still trying to win you back? Hasn’t it been almost more than 2 years?”

“Mhm, he goes all out with flowers, dry pastries and coffee with too much sugar”

“And he knows you’re dating someone?”

“He knows there’s someone; he doesn’t know I’m with the most gorgeous man on the planet, who also happens to be a super soldier”

Bucky smirked, the wheels in his head turning. He wasn’t jealous. I mean, there wasn’t anything to even be jealous of. Still…

***

“Y/n, you have a visitor at the front desk” You could hear Stacey giggle, her voice at least 3 octaves higher than usual, her flirting voice.

“Who?” You never got visitors. You heard shuffling in the background and another high pitched giggle.

“Um hang on – of course you can go up, let me know if I can get you anything handsome- I can send them up?”

“Sure? I guess?” There had to be some sort of mistake, the person must have gotten the wrong name, plus no one was even allowed onto your floor unless they were granted special access.

“Here ya go y/n, grabbed you one on the way to work” You turned around to see Mark placing a bran muffin on your desk while he bit into a chocolate chip one.

“Thanks” You stared blankly at the food you wouldn’t eat even if you were 70 years old and constipated.

“So…did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Some big guy just came to the office, uh, not sure who though but everyone’s talking about it, news travels fast” Mark shifted on his feet, irritated with the way the girls were all swooning over the mystery man that was at the front desk when he came in, only having seen the back a very tall and muscular brunette. The doors to your floor opened and you heard a bunch of hushed whispers and giggles around you.

“Oh my gosh it’s him”

“How the fuck is he even more hot in person”

“Duh he’s hot but who is he bringing those for?!”

You shifted your attention from your loser ex to the commotion behind you, gasping when you saw your boyfriend nearing your desk, a giant bouquet of flowers in his arm along with a cake box from a bakery you had been dying to go to.  

“Hi babydoll” Bucky ignored Mark, who was gaping like a fish by your desk, immediately moving out of the super soldiers way, his eyes wide, sweating profusely.  

“Bucky?!” You giggled as he pecked a kiss on your nose, setting the things down so he could pull you in his arms. “What are you doing here?!”

“Been away from my pretty angel for too long, wanted to see you” Bucky grinned, feeling Marks stink eye on the two of you, rooted in place.

“How’d you manage to get all the way up here?”

“Wasn’t too hard, Stacy was very happy to let me in” Bucky smirked, winking, cocky little shit.

“Ever the charmer, Barnes” You rolled your eyes, undoing the ribbon of the cake box, revealing a selection of mini cheesecakes with different toppings. “OH MY GOD, this is from the place down the street?!”

“Mhm, saw you looking at the place earlier, thought you could try each one and tell me which one you like best” Bucky picked up the strawberry cheesecake, letting you take a bite, his tongue swiping off the crumbs that fell onto your bottom lip.

“And then I saw these and thought of my beautiful girlfriend” Bucky handed you the giant bouquet and you giggled because it was almost comical in size.  “I missed you”

“Bucky you didn’t have to; you just got me flowers yesterday”

“So? My baby deserves flowers everyday”

Most of the office was staring at the two of you with heart eyes, sighing at how sickeningly cute you both were. Except Mark, who coughed, hoping the two of you would break it up but Bucky pulled you in for a kiss that left you breathless before reluctantly letting you go.

“Uh- oh, sorry, James this is Mark, Mark this is my boyfriend James” You stuttered out, still reeling from the kiss, your face flushed, heart racing.

“Nice to meet you James” Mark plastered a fake smile on his face, turning on his heel and walking away without waiting for Bucky to respond. You giggled, burying your face in Bucky’s chest as he grinned, very proud of himself.

***

“Hey y/n” Mark placed a slice of banana bread in front of you, after monitoring the hallway to make sure it was free of super soldiers first.

“Uh, thanks Mark. Look, I have to be honest; I really don’t like banana bread, at all”

“Oh, no problem” Mark shifted closer to you, “Maybe I can take you out for lunch instead then?” He was going to take every opportunity he could to get you back (as long as Bucky wasn’t looking). You gave him an apologetic smile as he, continued to hang around your desk, fiddling with a pen, freezing when he saw Bucky enter the office.

“Hey babygirl”

You giggled hearing your boyfriend’s voice down the hall as he made his way over, this time with a small container in his hand and a cup of coffee.

“Hey Buck”

Bucky leaned against your desk, placing the coffee and container down, smirking as he saw Mark sheepishly putting the pen on back on your desk beside an untouched slice of banana bread.

“What did you bring me baby” You peered into the container, grinning when you saw a fresh loaf of banana bread inside. You broke off a piece, moaning when the chocolate chips melted onto your tongue, still warm from the oven.

“Sooo good Bucky”

“I made it myself babygirl, I know you only like it when its homemade, extra chocolate chips too. Here’s your coffee”

You kissed his cheek, feeding Bucky a piece while he held you close, staring at Mark as he slinked back to his cubicle.

Everyone around your office absolutely loved Bucky (except Mark), fawning over having the very handsome and sweet super soldier. He easily charmed his way into getting an all access pass and your boss was more than happy to let Bucky go and come as he pleased.

Over the next few weeks, Bucky became a regular at your office, making sure to visit at the exact times Mark would wander over to your desk. He’d whisk you away for lunch or coffee breaks, parading around with his arm around your waist, always walking you back to your desk before giving you a kiss good bye.

***

“Nice ring y/n” Mark leaned against your desk, trying to hold your hand under the guise of getting a better look at your ring. You flinched, yanking your hand away, taking a few steps back to create some distance between you both as he continued to step forward.  

“Thank you, Bucky got it for me”

“Oh, you’re still together?, Didn’t see him around in a while”  

“He’s on a mission, he’ll be back soon” You felt a lump forming in your throat, Bucky had been sent away for nearly 2 months and you missed him like crazy. Mark had been using Bucky’s absence to his advantage, trying to call you all the time and hovering around your desk even more.

“You know, I don’t understand how you can be with someone like that” Marks statement nearly came out as a sneer, his teeth gritting at he looked at the picture you had framed with Bucky on your desk, “The Winter Soldier, he’s never around for long”

“What did you just call him and what’s that supposed to mean?” Your eyes shot up as you glared daggers into him, making him shrink back.

“Yeah, what does that mean?” You both turned around to see Bucky stare at Mark, putting his arm around your waist protectively. Bucky had come straight to your office after his mission, metal arm on full display in his tight black t-shirt, his duffle bag was slung over his shoulder; his face was scruffy with stubble. His jaw clenched, daring your ex to answer, as he held you close to his chest.

“N-no-nothing, I- just, you’re away, and, um….” Mark swallowed thickly as Bucky pulled something from his pocket, ignoring Marks rambling as he stayed frozen place, too scared to move.

You wrapped your arms around him, while he smiled down at you, fastening a beautiful necklace around you; the dark chain had a small pendant made from black and gold vibrainum.

“You always said you missed me when I left for missions. Had it made for you after my arm was injured, polished a bit of the metal that came off”

“You got hurt?” You gasped, looking over his arm as he kissed you, shaking his head.

“I’m okay now baby, m’not going to be going on missions for a while though. Took some time off to be with my girl” Bucky’s metal arm whirred as his hand balled into a fist. Bucky glared at your ex as he slowly walked off. Giving you lousy gifts was one thing but trying to touch you? He crossed a very dangerous line.

***

“This is the address, you sure about going there alone?”

“He’s not gonna do anything”

“Yeah, it’s not you I’m worried about” Sam smirked, parking the car outside of Marks house “Just don’t get yourself arrested, maybe leave him with a pulse”

“Not promising anything”

Bucky got out of the car, taking large strides, banging on the door, his metal arm whirring as he clenched his fist, trying to control himself.

Mark opened the door, nearly squeaking in fear as the super soldier towered over him, his chest heaving.

“H-hi James, what brings you here?”

“We can talk inside” The look on Bucky’s face left no room for questions as he shoved his way in, locking the door behind him. Bucky grabbed him by the shirt, easily lifting him off the floor, throwing him against the wall.

“You. Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. My. Girl”

“I-I don’t understand- Mark scrambled to his feet, pretending to be confused,  shrinking back as Bucky stalked towards him.

“Yes the fuck you do. The flowers, the coffee, all the shit she doesn’t ask for. I let all that go for her sake, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. But the second you touched her, you made it my problem too, you don’t fucking touch her”

“Well if she didn’t want it she should have said something” Marks voice wavered as his legs shook, trying to puff his chest out, looking something like a blow up penguin. If this had nothing to do with you, Bucky would have called Sam over to laugh. He almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.

Bucky grabbed his arm, twisting it around, pinning him to the wall as he spoke directly in his ear, his voice dropping a few octaves.

“Listen to me. If you ever. Touch her again. I will kill you. You know exactly who I am. I don’t hurt people any more but I will break that rule in a heartbeat when it comes to y/n. Leave. Her. Alone”

***

You sat at your desk smiling as you played with the dog tags around Bucky’s neck. He had come over during your lunch break, feeding you chocolate covered strawberries as you sat on his lap.

“How do they taste baby?”

“Like it should be illegal for anything to taste this good, I love them”

“Really? Last time you said that was when you had your mouth around my co-

“Bucky!” You slapped your hand over his mouth as he chuckled, removing his tags, putting them around your neck instead.

“You look sexy wearing my tags baby” His lips brushed against your ear as he held your waist, his grip tightening as he saw Mark approach you, walking with purpose. He flinched for a second, seeing the silver tags hanging around your neck. He straightened his shoulders, after all it was still his work place, he could get Bucky thrown out if he wanted to, right?

“He-He’s not what you think y/n, he’s a monster”

“Excuse me?” You cocked an eyebrow, as Mark pointed an accusatory finger to a bored looking Bucky who was picking at his finger nails.

“He-he threatened me, at my house. Threatened to kill me just because we’re friends” Mark made a show of pointing to the bruises on his wrists, not even close to the ones you always had on your ass when Bucky was pounding you against the – “How can you date someone like that!? How dare he come to my house and tell me he we can’t talk, he’s just jealous, I bet- I bet he didn’t even tell you!”

Mark smirked in satisfaction as you looked up at Bucky in surprise.

“Bucky? Did you…?”

Bucky nodded wordlessly, his heart racing. He never wanted to disappoint you but he couldn’t stand seeing you get harassed on a daily basis. You grabbed Bucky’s face, pulling him down for a heated kiss, your tongue slipping between his lips, as he groaned, wrapping his arms around you, only pulling away for air.

“That is by far the sexiest thing anyone has ever done baby” You gripped Bucky’s shirt, if it wasn’t for being at work you could take pulled his cock out right then at there. “You protecting me is the hottest thing ever” You lowered your voice to a whisper just loud enough for Bucky and Mark to hear “If we were somewhere else, I’d be begging for your babies right now”

“You want that baby?” Bucky smirked, his cock stirring as your hand trailed down to his belt, teasing him.

“Mhm, you take care of me so well baby, I think I should take care of you tonight daddy ”

Bucky groaned, his hand giving your ass a squeeze, his lips brushing by your ear.  

“Yeah? You gonna be a good little slut for daddy tonight? Let him do whatever he wants?”

“Anything you want daddy”

Mark stood wide eyed, stuttering. Plan B, he could still get him thrown out. His eyes lit up as the CEO made his way through the office, nearing your table.

“I- he- well he doesn’t even work here! we’ll see what Mr. Hanson has to say about this”

“God, he’s throwing a tantrum, he’s like a toddler” Bucky snorted, straightening up as the CEO approached your desk.

“My favourite couple, hey James! How are you, how’s our new cap?” Mr. Hanson pulled Bucky into a friendly hug before giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“Hey George, I’m great, Sam’s finally getting the hang of the shield”

Mr. Hanson, laughed, before continuing to his office, turning back for a moment. “Both of you remember, this weekend, my wife is making jerk chicken with rice and beans”

Mark swallowed thickly, he didn’t really have a plan C. Bucky snickered, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

“He-

You grabbed Mark by his tie, tightening it just enough for him to wheeze a little, while Bucky watched you with pride.

“He defended and protected me when you couldn’t take a hint. I didn’t report your pent up creepy ass to HR because I wanted to keep things civil between us but come here again with those stupid weeds you call flowers and I’ll kick your ass myself”

Mark gulped, scurrying off to his desk, grumbling when his text message to the secretary failed to send.

Bucky looked at you, his eyes darkened with lust as he licked his lips.

“So. About that offer?”

“Let me pack my things”

Part 2 here

The supply closet 

-

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes​ @needybabygirlstuff 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fluff #jealous bucky #protective bucky #protective bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson #captain america #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #buckt barnes request #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfics #marvel smut #avengers smut

[jemgirl86]

Bucky whenever someone looks at Sam twice:

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #more like insanely jealous #lol

[bisamwilson]

…out of envy or jealousy. for sambucky or any sam ship you'd like :D

#46: ...out of envy or jealousy (this turned out pretty sambuckyquin i'm ngl)

Joaquín's been getting a bit bold as of late.

He'd known the baby falcon had had a thing for Sam this whole time, of course, had watched him flirt and blush his way through every conversation back when Sam and himself were still firmly just frenemies.

It had been kind of fun to watch then, is still kind of fun to watch now, even though Bucky's less and less sure with each new flirty remark that Joaquín's not actually trying to shoot his shot.

Bucky trusts Sam. He knows they're solid. They've even talked about Joaquín's obvious crush on occasion, though it's pretty obvious to the both of them each time that the conversation's still ongoing.

Bucky's a little tipsy tonight though, halfway to drunk off that heavy Asgardian ale he really never should have touched, and he's teetering over the line of annoyance.

Joaquín's an affectionate drunk, as he and Sam are both learning tonight.

He's got an arm around Sam on the couch they're sitting on, and is leaning over on him, his head on his shoulder. Sam's got that amused look in his eyes he gets when Bucky is being particularly ridiculous or stubborn about something that doesn't actually matter, and something flares a little hot in his stomach at seeing it aimed at someone else.

Whatever Joaquín's saying is being mumbled into Sam's shoulder, so Bucky doesn't actually hear their conversation till he gets up closer.

"...look so amazing when you're flying, Sam," he says, voice filled with awe. "You always look so beautiful up there."

Bucky sees green. "He does, doesn't he?" he says sincerely, hoping Sam can't hear any trace of jealousy in his voice. He sits down on Sam's other side, pressing their legs as close together as he can, and tilts Sam's head towards him. "Every day I wonder how I got so lucky."

He leans in, then, capturing Sam's lips with his own. He makes a bit of a show of it, admittedly, parting his lips and pulling Sam's head in closer. He kisses him for just a little too long to be polite, but not too long it can't be explained away by the last drink he'd downed.

It's not quite long enough to really savor the taste of the whiskey Sam's been nursing on his own tongue, but he figures they've got all night for that later.

He pulls back slowly, relishing in the way it takes Sam just a moment too long to open his eyes after, and places his hand down on Sam's thigh, entirely too high up not to be deliberate.

When Sam turns back to Joaquín, just on the side of dazed, Bucky turns towards him too, smug and satisfied.

He finds the baby bird staring back at him already, his eyes wide and his lips parted as he looks between them both, breath a little heavier as his gaze catches on Sam's chest, on Bucky's arms, on the edge of a hickey poking out from under the collar of Bucky's shirt.

Bucky moves his hand up even higher on Sam's thigh.

They might just have to revisit that Joaquín conversation again, he thinks.

send me a ship and a number and i'll write a kiss!

#i suppose you could read the ending as bucky being jealous still but i definitely meant it as pre sbj interest lmao #hope the sambuckyquin was fine instead of just sambucky!!! #thanks for the prompt (both you and anon!!!!) #i have like six more of these in my inbox and i promise i plan on getting to all of them!!!! it's just been a busy week! #sambucky #sambuckyquin #sambuckytorres #sam wilson #bucky barnes #joaquin torres #sbj #buckysam #winterfalcon #otp: i’m coming with you #mak writes #marvel #ask game #ask meme #writer meme #ironstrangle #anonymous #kiss meme

[evilhorse]

Yeah. Great. Well, I hope you and your new-found strength will be very happy together!

#captain america #steve rogers #the falcon #falcon #sam wilson #redwing #jealous #buddies? #steve englehart #sal buscema #marvel comics #comics #70s comics #bronze age comics

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Not Allowed

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Receptionist!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: bad date angst, jealous bucky

Summary: You and Bucky always flirt with each other while at work but it never goes anywhere like you'd hope. You accept a date with another man, causing Bucky to be jealous. He's a cop who is jealous. Nothing will go wrong, right?

Squares Filled: kink: pet names (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You walk through the double doors with a smile on your face because today is another day. You’re alive and that’s the best kind of day. You work for the local police department as their receptionist. You’re the first thing people see when they come in so you have to be on your best behavior.

You set your things down on your desk and quickly get settled in. Besides the Captain, you’re the first one in the building. Every officer that comes in, you greet them with a smile as you log into your computer.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Officer Wilson says when he comes in. He always calls you that since he's often told you how he thinks of you like a little sister. “How was your weekend?”

“Too short,” you chuckle. “Did Sarah get into that college?”

“Yeah, she got the acceptance letter yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for her!” you grin.

“Yeah, I’ll tell her to give you a call.”

Sam taps your desk twice and leaves to go to his own. A few more officers come in until the one you’ve been waiting for walks in confidently. Your heart starts to race because you have a huge crush on him. He kind of knows it but doesn't outright call you out on it.

“There she is,” Bucky smiles and leans on your desk.

“Officer Barnes, it’s good to see you.”

“Doll, you know you can call me Bucky.”

He knows exactly what those pet names do to you. After a night of drinking together, you let it slip that your kink is pet names, and doll happened to be your favorite. Like him, you won’t call him out on it.

“I know. How was your weekend?”

“Better if you were there with me,” he flirts.

“Oh, Bucky,” you chuckle nervously. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I do. I was wishing, ‘Man, don’t I wish Y/N was here with me? I guess I have to drink alone’.”

“You know what alcohol does to me.”

“Yeah, I do,” he smirks. “You look cute today. That dress compliments you.”

“A compliment. I might swoon,” you joke even though your cheeks are hot.

“As long as it’s in my arms, I don’t care.”

“Don’t you have a job to get to, Officer Barnes?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather stay here and talk to you.”

“You might get fired.”

“It’s worth it,” he winks. “Here’s your coffee.”

He sets your favorite coffee order next to your keyboard and walks away. That’s the extent of your relationship with Bucky. You two flirt constantly but nothing ever comes of it. It’s comfortable. Why leave something when you’re comfortable being there? Do you wish you were something more? Of course. Do you think he’s going to man up and take it to that next level? Not unless something threatening happened like him realizing if he doesn’t do it soon, he’d lose you.

Some of what your work includes is printing off documents for the other officers, inputting things into evidence before they get shipped off there, and sorting through the files regarding the people they have locked up in the holding cells or interrogation rooms. You already have a list of things to print out and file, but you look for Bucky’s name first.

After printing off what he needs, you get up and personally hand this to him. There is a mailbox for the officers that you’re supposed to put in, but you like visiting his desk. He has a picture of you and him printed out and placed next to his computer that you look at every time you visit.

“Here are the papers you asked for,” you smile.

“Thanks, doll,” he grins and grabs them from you, intentionally brushing his fingers against yours.

You go back to your desk to finish your work, and you come across two people who need stuff put into evidence. One of them sent it over a couple of hours ago, and the other one is from Bucky. You immediately click on his name to get what he needs first before looking at the other one.

“Now that is bullshit,” you hear from behind you.

You jump and turn to see Sam standing there with a half-smile on his face.

“What are you doing? You scared me!”

“I sent you evidence hours ago and Bucky sent you it just now, and he’s the one you pick first?”

“I--”

You don’t have any words for that.

“When are you two gonna fuck?”

“Sam Wilson!” you gasp.

“What? It’s a valid question. I should ask him that.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“I’m rooting for you two no matter how painful the slow burn is,” he chuckles and walks away.

It takes half an hour to get the idea of you and Bucky fucking for you to do your job right. Once you’re in the groove of things, the door opens and an attractive man walks in.

“Can I help you?” you ask with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m here for my brother. He’s in lock up.”

“Okay, what’s his name and date of birth?”

“James Farley. 04/05/1986.”

“Your name?”

“Brandon Farley.”

“Okay, I see your brother here. It looks like--”

“I’m sorry, but I have to tell you how beautiful you are.”

“Oh, thank you,” you blush.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“No, but--”

“Great. Can I take you out?”

“You can see how this is inappropriate, right?”

“Yeah, but you like it,” he grins. “So, can I take you out?”

There’s a certain charm about him that you find endearing maybe because he reminds you of Bucky. Being put on the spot like that is enough to make you freeze up, so you say the one thing that won’t cause conflict.

“Yes.”

“Here’s my number.”

He grabs your hand and writes his number on it so that it won’t come off with one scrub.

“I have sticky notes!”

“This is better. Now you won’t lose it.”

“Go take a seat. Someone will be with you shortly to bring you to your brother.”

“Thanks,” he winks and walks to the waiting room.

You’re about to get up and wash off the number when you notice Bucky standing in the doorway that leads into the precinct.

“Did I hear that right?”

“What?”

“You have a date?”

“Yeah, he asked me out,” you stutter. Bucky looks pissed as if you just told him you killed someone. “Why do you look angry?”

“Nothing. No reason.”

Bucky walks off angrily leaving you confused. He avoids you like the plague for the rest of the day. He isn’t at his desk when you drop off paperwork, and he’s not there to walk you to your car when you get off. He’s supposed to get off an hour before you do, but he stays after not on the clock to make sure you get to your car safely.

This time, he didn’t.

The next day, Bucky is already at work when you arrive. There is no coffee on your desk, either, and you’re feeling guilty for accepting a date with someone else. Is that why he’s acting this way? Sam walks in drinking an energy drink when you stop him.

“Hey, what’s going on with Bucky?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, what did I do?”

“You accepted a date from someone else.”

You knew it. Why is he bigging out?

“So?”

“Have you not been here for the past two years? You two flirt like crazy.”

“No, he’s just being friendly.”

“You won’t get it until you do,” Sam shakes his head and walks off.

The date with Brandon comes sooner than you hoped. He picks you up in a fancy car and takes you to a fancy restaurant that you could never afford. He smooth-talks the hostess to get him a table by the window so he can have a view while he eats. The waitress brings by a drinks menu but he already orders what you two are going to drink.

“Trust me, you’re going to love this,” he winks at you.

“Okay,” you say and fiddle with your fingers underneath the table. “You know what I do for work. What do you do for work?”

You shouldn’t have asked him that.

“I work in the telecommunications sector. You know that big building in the city? That’s mine. It’s funny. I got all my parents’ money when they died and instead of using that money for myself, I decided to invest in a small company that turned out to give me millions.” You open your mouth to speak but he continues talking. “Can you imagine that? This small company that wasn’t going to go anywhere if it weren't for me. I’m like their hero. They eventually sold their part to me, and I’ve been thriving ever since.”

Once he got to talking about his job, he hasn’t shut up about it since. He’s very arrogant and rude but that doesn’t seem to stop him. As soon as the drinks come, you greedily take yours and down it without caring what it is.

“Whoa, doll, calm down. I don’t need to haul you to the car at the end of the night. You should pace yourself.”

No one can call me that but Bucky. Oh, Bucky. You shouldn’t have said yes to this man. He only asked you out to hear himself talk. You want this date to end so you pretend to be interested in what he has to say. Even when the date is over and he’s driving you home, he won’t shut up. His voice mixed with alcohol is starting to make your head throb.

About halfway to your house, you see red and blue lights behind you.

This better not be him, you think to yourself. Brandon pulls the car over obediently and waits for the officer to approach him. You look through the mirror to see the outline of the officer and recognize it immediately. He better not. I swear to God… Instead of walking to the driver’s side door, Bucky walks over to your door and leans down so only you can see him.

“Step out of the vehicle, please.”

“No.”

Bucky takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He leans in so close that you can smell his delicious cologne. That makes your head spin.

“I’ll repeat myself. Step out of the car.”

“Or what? You’re gonna drag me out?”

“Don’t tempt me, doll,” he says so only you can hear it.

“Is there a problem, Officer?” Brandon asks.

“Yes. You have a busted taillight.”

“Fuck! You’ve got to be joking, sir.”

“No, sir, I’m not.”

“Shit. Officer, I can promise you I keep this car in the utmost pristine condition.”

“Not today, buddy. That’s a ticket.”

Bucky takes out his pad and writes Brandon a hefty ticket for a broken taillight you’re not sure is even broken.

“Fuck!” Brandon turns to you without guilt on his face. “Look, do you mind if I drop you off right here? Your house is only down the road. You can get there from here, right?”

Your mouth drops open in shock.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Bucky offers.

“Thank you. I’ll call you.”

You don’t say anything as you get out of the car. Bucky walks you to the passenger side of his cruiser. You look at the taillights of Brandon’s car and notice they’re both working properly.

“What the fuck, Bucky?” you yell when he gets in the driver’s seat. “His taillights are broken! You can’t just do that. That’s illegal!”

“He’ll fight against it, and I’ll drop the charges,” he shrugs.

“You’re un-fucking-believable. We were actually having a good time,” you lie.

“No, you weren't,” he laughs.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s written all over your face. Your eyes don’t have the usual light.” Bucky pulls onto the road and heads in the direction of your house. “I don’t know why you would accept the date in the first place.”

“Because at least he had the fucking balls to ask me.”

That puts the entire car ride into a tense silence. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride home. He pulls up to your place but instead of letting you get out first, he gets out and walks over to your side of the car. He opens the door but doesn't let you leave the car. He leans into the car, grabs your chin, and kisses you. You’re shocked but you won’t pull away from him. Both your lips move in harmony against one another, and he slides his tongue into your mouth to show you he means business.

“You’re not allowed to see other men.”

“Why not?” you ask, breathlessly.

“Because you’re mine now and I’m not gonna let you go.” This brings a smile to your face. He lets you get out, and when you pass by him, he taps your ass lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doll.”

Yes, you will.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

[dirtyvulture]

Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x Omega!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: Jealous Alpha Nat x Clueless Omega Reader 

Semi-public sex, claiming/knotting/breeding. Please, and thanks to you, God of Lust. 

AN: I accidentally made Nat beefy even though you didn’t ask for it. 🥺 I hope you don’t mind, anon! Shoutout to @mostlymarvelsstuff for helping brainstorm this one.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to spot you?” Natasha asks for what you feel is the thousandth time.

“Yes, I’ll be fine. I’ll only be using the ten-pound weights anyway,” you respond, a little annoyed at how oveprotective she can be sometimes. 

“Well, I’ll be right over here if you need me.” Natasha parts with a kiss on your forehead before going over to her favorite exercise, the bench press. You weren’t much of a fan yourself, so you grab a pair of dumbbells and stand in front of the mirror. 

You hear the gym door open as you’re in the middle of your set of curls, but you don’t think much of it. You can see Natasha in the reflection of the mirror, balancing a barbell with two times your weight on it and you pause to admire the impressive flexing of her arms as she brings down the bar to bounce off her chest.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You snap out of your ogling to find Sam Wilson standing behind you with a wide grin on his face.

“Huh? Oh, hi, Sam.”

“Need some help with your workout?” he asks, boldly putting his hand on your shoulder and steering you toward an empty bench. 

“Um, not really.”

“Come on, I can show you some new moves. It’ll really diversify your workout.” He sounds so earnest, you don’t want to deny him the opportunity. Plus, it’s just Sam and he’s completely harmless, and you’re where Natasha can see you if anything goes south.

“Okay fine,” you relent, watching as he adjusts the bench so you can sit up and rest your back on it. 

“Have you done shoulder presses before?” Sam asks as you take a seat. He stands behind you. 

“Uh, these?” You bend your arms and press them up.

“Yeah! Just add some weight to it.” Sam hands you your dumbbells. 

You start your first set, not struggling too much with the weight. Sam holds his hands under your triceps, following your range of motion in case you can’t complete a rep. 

After you finish your first set of 12, you go into your second set, although your arms are already tired. Sam’s hands brush the undersides of your triceps more than once.

“Come on, Y/N. You got this. Push, push, push.”

“Phew,” you pant, dropping your dumbbells to the floor and shaking the ache out in your arms.

“Those are too easy,” Sam says, going over to the rack and picking up a pair of 15 pound dumbbells. 

“Oh no, I stick to the tens,” you protest.

“You got this. I won’t let you drop them on your head. Besides, Romanoff would kill me if that happened.”

“Or, I can still kill you before that happens,” someone growls from behind you both.

“Nat?” You didn’t even notice her come over. The collar of her low-cut shirt is soaked in sweat and the veins in her arms look like they’re straining to escape. 

“What the hell are you doing, Wilson? She didn’t want a spot,” Natasha says in a low voice that makes you tingle.

“Oh, I wasn’t spotting her, I was just showing her some new exercises,” Sam says, suddenly backing away from you on the bench.

“And you don’t think I can do that?”

“Well, uh, no...” Sam stutters. “I know you’re more than capable--”

“I’ll take it from here,” Natasha interrupts.

“Sure. I’ll...I’ll see you two around.” Sam scampers away. 

“Come on, Y/N,” Natasha says, hooking her arm under yours and pulling you up.

“Oh, are you done with your workout?” It wasn’t unusual for your mate to spend upwards of two hours in the gym.

“This one,” she says, whisking you out of the gym. 

“Nat, are you okay?” you ask as she drags you into the locker room. You look down at her black shorts and notice the tent forming at the center. “Oh.”

“It seems someone forgot who their alpha is,” Natasha growls, pushing you against the lockers and looming over you. 

“Nat, someone can walk in--” you squeak as she removes your shorts, easily lifting you with her strong arms and pressing your back against the lockers. 

“Good. So they can run out and tell everyone who’s alpha you belong to.”

“Fuck.” Her deepened voice and aggressive tone has you soaking your panties.

“Who’s your alpha?” Natasha asks, now holding you up entirely with one arm so she can pull her shorts down. Her cock is dripping with pre-cum, fully erect, the veins on it pulsing. You clench around nothing, aching to have her sheathed inside of you.

“You’re my alpha,” you respond, whining as she teases your folds with the dark tip of her cock. 

“No one else’s?” she asks, almost as if she’s a little insecure that you’d leave her for someone.

“Just yours. All yours,” you insist. “Please, Nat.”

“Good.” Her arms flex as she steadies you before lowering you on her cock. You moan as she stretches you out, clawing onto her biceps and shoulders in pleasure. 

“Harder, Nat,” you whimper, unable to make a sound as her thighs slap louder against yours, bouncing you on her dick. 

“You are my omega,” she growls, burying her face against your neck and tracing her tongue teasingly along the mating mark she left there months ago, when she first claimed you as hers. She bore a similar one on her collarbone, in the perfect outline of your teeth, a mark she wore proudly. “Mine and only mine.”

“Yours,” you pant, clinging onto her. “Claim me again, Nat. Knot me and make me yours.”

You feel her chest vibrate as she moans at your words and you swear you can feel her cock throb harder inside of you. Natasha mumbles something in Russian, a language you never bothered to learn but loved to hear when she was so turned on she couldn’t think in English. Her thrusts come harder and you swear you’ll be bruised tomorrow. But you don’t care, tearing at her shirt so you can feel her sweaty skin against yours and take in her scent.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Natasha moans, starting to lose her rhythm. You clench harder around her, desperate to feel her hot cum spill into you. You can’t wait to carry her pups and start a family with her one day. “Do you...Do you want my knot?” she asks, knowing that if you take it, the two of you won’t be able to disconnect very easily. In fact, she’ll probably have to carry you out to your room, and who knows how many eyes will fall on you two on your way there.

“Yes, yes, please. I don’t care who sees us,” you reassure, digging your nails harder into her biceps. “Fill me with your pups, Nat.”

That does it for her, and with a final hard thrust, her knot slips into you without difficulty and you feel her cum gush into you. You sigh in satisfaction, dropping your head against her chest and pulling aside her shirt collar to expose her mating mark. You bite into it and Natasha’s body goes rigid with a moan, and she finishes cumming with a few hard pulses. 

She wraps her arms around you, balancing you against her chest, as she reaches for some towels to throw over your back. You hook your legs around her waist and she pulls up her shorts as high as she can, carrying you out of the locker room, with her cock still inside of you. 

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

AN: These two. 😅 Absolutely insatiable.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #beefy!nat #abo supremacy #natasha romanoff x reader

[kaynothanks]

On His Collar | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wilson!Reader

Warnings: bucky’s one jealous boi, lil bit of violence, no smut which (for me) really is surprising, smooching, being caught

Summary: Bucky can't keep his hands off you and your brother notices

Word-Count: 12.3K

With a nervous gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you were only half-aware of your leg's relentless fidgeting. Your eyes remained affixed to the world beyond the car window, the landscape blurring as the vehicle, courtesy of Zemo's orchestration, sped on. Vague details of the city drawing closer had filtered through to you via documents and whispers; the scant knowledge of its shadowy dealings enough to stir an unsettling churn within your chest. From a distance, Madripoor was breathtaking, its myriad lights flickering through the rain's swift descent, captured momentarily on the glass before you.

This fleeting illumination conjured memories of a night several months prior, when a call in the deep, silent hours had pierced your tranquility. Urged by his voice, laced with an unspoken desperation, you hadn't hesitated. Your car had cut through the sleeping city of New York, a beacon in the dark, drawn to alleviate his turmoil. The lights of that night, though bearing a resemblance to the ones now stretched before you, held a beauty tinged with a personal touch, perhaps making them appear even more enchanting.

You released a breath tinged with anxiety, your fingers idly tracing the edge of the scant dress that, for reasons unknown, Zemo had at his disposal. The material, with its thinness and the overlay of silver glitter, chafed against your skin, a constant reminder of its presence. However, the knowledge of Zemo's opulent wealth lent you the perspective that this barely-there garment might indeed possess a value surpassing the collective worth of your entire wardrobe.

"You good?" came your brother's voice, close enough to stir the air by your ear, pulling your attention sharply towards him.

For a fleeting moment, you found yourself studying him, ensnared in your own whirlpool of anxiety. The furrow of worry etching deep between his brows sent a sharp pang through your heart. Witnessing this, a desperate plea bubbled within you, a silent yearning for him to cease his endless vigil over you—to halt his attempts at shielding you from every conceivable harm, to stop viewing you through the lens of perpetual childhood, to simply cease the worry that seemed to etch itself into his very being. The thought of being the source of such profound distress, such tangible sorrow for him, was more than you could bear. Heaven knows, the troubles you'd landed yourself in, the predicaments from which he'd extricated you time and again, were countless, far beyond what your fingers could tally.

Sam was the epitome of the brother everyone should be blessed with. From the tender years of your childhood, he had been the figure you looked up to, the beacon that guided many of the choices that had shaped your life. And in the wake of your father's passing, his protective instincts didn't just increase; they surged, enveloping you in a steadfast, unwavering care. He was your rock, your constant, in a world that seemed all too ready to shift beneath your feet. Always there, without fail.

Your decisions often found themselves at odds with his views, sparking debates that seemed as endless as they were passionate. A vivid memory that stood out was when you announced your intention to follow in his footsteps and join the Marines. What ensued was a marathon two-hour discourse, laden with reasons he believed painted a vivid picture of why the military was a mismatch for someone like you. You had absorbed every word, every concern, yet your resolve had remained unshaken. In hindsight, the wisdom woven into his admonitions might have merited deeper consideration, a realization that dawned on you with greater clarity once you found yourself deployed to the turbulent south.

It was there, amidst the chaos and the distance from home, that you began to truly comprehend the depth of Sam's anxiety for your well-being—a sentiment that became reciprocal as concern for your family gnawed at you. Sarah, battling to keep the family business afloat while nurturing two young boys in Sam's absence, became a focal point of your worries. Meanwhile, Sam's life, veiled in the secrecy of countless missions, left a chasm between your shared experiences. Often, he returned with stories he couldn't share, silences that spoke louder than words, deepening your understanding of the burdens he carried and the protective shield he tried to extend over you from miles away.

Had you heeded his words, the tapestry of your life might have been woven with different threads, perhaps even brighter hues. Imagine a reality where you had chosen to stand by Sarah's side, absorbing the tranquility of domestic life rather than the chaos of battle. In that alternate existence, your path would never have intersected with the harrowing battlefield against Thanos. Your presence in the thick of that fight was nothing short of serendipitous, a stark coincidence born from a casual visit to him just as the alarm bells of invasion clanged their ominous toll.

The details of your unexpected journey to Wakanda are shrouded in the mists of adrenaline-fueled urgency, a memory blurred at the edges by the sheer intensity of facing an extraterrestrial threat for the first time. It was an initiation by fire into a reality far removed from anything you had ever known or imagined.

Yet, amidst the whirlwind of chaos and the blur of combat, one memory stands etched with crystal clarity—the visceral sensation of teetering on the brink of oblivion. The cold brush with death is an experience that lingers, a stark reminder of mortality that paints every moment with a sharper contrast, a memory that forever shapes your understanding of life, resilience, and the fragility of existence.

You had weathered the storms of human conflict, battles steeped in the folly and hubris of mankind, but never before had you faced a legion from beyond the stars, intent on culling half of all life in the universe. In the shadow of such an unfathomable threat, your own mortality had seemed inconsequential, dwarfed by the incalculable lives teetering on the edge of annihilation. Driven by a newfound recklessness, a fiery resolve to make a difference, you had abandoned the post Sam had painstakingly chosen for you. You had forsaken safety, charging headlong towards Thanos, the architect of doom.

To him, you were but a speck, a mere human too insignificant to warrant attention, and he had dismissed you with the ease of one swatting away an irritating fly. Yet, with your firearm spent, desperation had lent you audacity. You had launched yourself onto his colossal frame, a knife clutched in your fist, the last vestige of your defiance. You were acutely aware of the invincibility that his skin professed, an armor no earthly might had pierced with lasting effect. But ambition—or perhaps the raw edge of survival—drove you to attempt the impossible: to excise one of the gleaming Infinity Stones from its gauntlet perch.

And in that breathless moment, as your blade kissed the surface of the gauntlet, Thanos's fingers curled into a fateful snap.

The universe hung in the balance, suspended on the cusp of his action and your audacious defiance. Time itself seemed to stand still, awaiting the outcome of a confrontation that had spiraled far beyond the realms of imagination.

When consciousness reclaimed you, five years had vanished into the ether, and you awoke to a world that had moved on without you. The sight that greeted you was your own veins, pulsating with an uncanny luminescence, casting a ghostly glow over the skin they webbed. Your body, once a familiar vessel, now refused the basic command to rise, leaving you sprawled and powerless on the ground. If only you had heeded Sam's directive, you mused bitterly, you might have remained untouched by this curse, spared the constant, gnawing anxiety that now made a den in your heart. Fear had become your unwelcome shadow, looming over you with endless "what ifs." The thought of unintentionally unleashing harm, of your very essence becoming a cataclysmic force capable of leveling cities, was a nightmare that played on an endless loop in your mind.

Through it all, Sam had been your anchor in the tempest, steadfast even as you spiraled into a mire of self-distrust. For three agonizing months, he had nursed you through the turmoil of accepting this altered existence, an existence marked by an estrangement from your own being. Comfort in your own skin had become a foreign concept, an elusive state that you feared might elude you indefinitely. Nowadays, every flicker of your fingers was accompanied by a torrent of anxiety, a silent battle waged between mind and heart. With each throb of your pulse, a cacophony of fears whispered the possibility of harming the one constant in your life—your brother. This new reality was a labyrinth with no visible exit, a path you tread with trepidation, haunted by the potential havoc you could wreak with a mere gesture, a thought, a slip of control.

You took a deep breath, your fingers nervously adjusting the sleek black leather gloves that now served as a barrier between your touch and the world, a precaution against the inadvertent destruction your mere contact could cause. For a fleeting moment, your gaze drifted to him, taking in the precise way his ebony locks were coifed, a style so meticulously arranged atop his head. The shortness of his hair, a detail so starkly different from before, still felt alien to your eyes. Catching his gaze already fixed on you, a silent exchange that spoke volumes, you redirected your attention back to your brother, mustering a smile tinged with awkwardness. "Of course. Stop worrying," you whispered, attempting to lace your voice with reassurance, even as your heart wrestled with its own tempest of concerns.

"I'm your big brother," he reminded you, his tone carrying a hint of playfulness as if introducing a fact that might have somehow slipped your mind. "That's my job," he added, a declaration of his unwavering role in your life.

Gotta be a real thankless job, you mused silently, the thought echoing wryly within the confines of your mind. "How haven't I fired you yet?" you quipped back, a teasing lilt in your voice as you nudged him gently with your elbow, inviting a moment of light-hearted banter between the gravity of your shared experiences.

His response was an exaggerated gasp, a playful act that drew a slight, amused smile across your face. Without missing a beat, he turned to the conspicuously silent super-soldier beside him. "Ey, Bucky," he called out, seemingly plucking his next words from thin air with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Did I tell you about that one time, when Y/n was seven and she peed—"

"Oh my god, Sam, stop!" The words flew from your lips as you reached out to silence him, your hand slapping his shoulder before trying to cover his mouth, a futile attempt to stem the flow of embarrassing tales. Your cheeks flushed with a warmth that radiated from the deep-seated embarrassment of the memory, vivid as if it had happened just yesterday, rather than years ago.

"I apologize for interrupting your camaraderie," Zemo's voice, laced with a hint of formality, cut through the air from the front seat. His eyes found yours in the rearview mirror, carrying a mix of apology and inevitability. "Unfortunately, my driver can proceed no further."

Zemo was the first to emerge from the vehicle, setting the tone for a swift exit. Sam was quick on his heels, nearly leaping from the car at the sight of Bucky preparing to disembark. The super-soldier merely rolled his eyes at the urgency, a silent testament to his annoyance, before he too followed suit, stepping into the open air.

Left alone for a brief moment, you lingered in the cocoon of the car's interior, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. The unease knotted in your stomach, a familiar harbinger of doom, seemed to grip tighter with each passing second. Yet, as you prepared to step out into the uncertain world beyond the car's confines, a flicker of hope dared to whisper through your thoughts. Perhaps, just this once, the ominous premonition that twisted your insides would prove false. Maybe, after a stretch of relentless storms, a moment of calm awaited you. With that fragile hope cradled in your chest, you ventured forth, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Navigating the bustling streets of the city, your senses were on high alert, eyes darting left and right in a mix of wariness and awe. Every sound, every blur of movement was cataloged, an overwhelming flood of stimuli as you endeavored to absorb the essence of the place. Ahead of you, the three men moved with a purposeful stride, seemingly indifferent to the sensory overload that ensnared you. Or so it appeared, until a momentary glance to the side caught Bucky mid-observation, his head subtly angled in your direction. The instant he realized he'd been noticed, his gaze snapped forward, a silent admission of his watchfulness.

A small, knowing smile played on your lips as you continued your exploration, your attention now on the eclectic mix of individuals that populated the streets. Their attire was a vivid tapestry of the city's culture and complexity, each person a unique thread woven into the larger fabric. In this context, Zemo's insistence on changing your clothing became crystal clear. Clad in your usual cargo pants and top, you would have stood out starkly, a beacon of foreignness in this richly diverse crowd. It would have been akin to parading around with a neon sign branded "idiot," announcing your outsider status to every discerning eye. His foresight, though begrudgingly acknowledged, spared you that unwitting declaration of naivety.

In the mosaic of your life, Bucky Barnes occupied a space that was both vivid and complex, interwoven with threads of intimacy and shared secrets, away from the prying eyes of your overprotective brother, Sam. Your connection with Bucky had evolved, nurtured by the clandestine moments and deep conversations that unfolded in the quiet corners of New York's bustling cityscape.

It began with chance encounters, two souls adrift in the vastness of the city, finding solace in the understanding gaze of the other. These meetings grew in frequency and depth, transitioning from fleeting to intentional, as you both sought the comfort and understanding that seemed to elude you elsewhere. The shared experience of navigating a world that often felt too constricting, too demanding, became the foundation of your bond.

Your relationship with Bucky was a tapestry of silent understandings and whispered confidences. There were evenings spent in his modest apartment, where the glow of the city lights barely filtered through the curtains, casting the room in a soft luminescence. Here, amidst the shadows, you shared parts of yourselves that had been carefully guarded from the rest of the world. Bucky, with his guarded heart and weary eyes, found in you a kindred spirit, someone who could see beyond the Winter Soldier to the man who was still standing beneath.

These moments of vulnerability were your secret, a world built for two, where words were often unnecessary. You had memorized the layout of his apartment, the contents of each cupboard and drawer, not through any explicit intention but through the natural intimacy that comes from shared spaces and shared silences. It was in the way you could wordlessly hand him a glass of water from his kitchen without having to ask where he kept his glasses, or how the two of you could sit in comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts yet together.

Yet, this closeness was kept hidden, a chapter of your life unread by Sam. Not out of deceit but from a desire to protect this fragile connection from external judgments or expectations. With Sam's protective instincts, your relationship with Bucky was a delicate balance, a treasure trove of moments and memories that you both guarded fiercely.

The complexity of your relationship with Bucky was not defined by labels or expectations but by the depth of connection and mutual understanding. It was a testament to the fact that sometimes, the most profound relationships are those that exist in the spaces between words, in the comfort of silence, and in the shared experiences of two souls navigating the world side by side.

The inexplicable flutter in your heart whenever Bucky was near often left you questioning your own sanity, yet there was something undeniably captivating about the way he made you feel. The warmth that crept into your cheeks as you reminisced about a lazy afternoon spent in the park was a testament to this. It was a simple moment, really—Bucky's admission of his aversion to text messaging because he preferred the sound of your voice had somehow managed to send your heart into a delightful somersault. In that instant, you understood the unspoken pact between you two: to keep the depth of your connection hidden from your brother.

This secret camaraderie you shared with Bucky was treasured quietly, a series of moments and feelings kept just between the two of you. Bucky, too, found solace in your presence. The way you looked at him, with eyes filled with genuine affection and understanding, offered him a tranquility he had long thought was beyond his grasp. Your smile was like a beacon to him, urging him to open up about his past, his fears, and his dreams, despite the darkness that shadowed much of his history. Yet, of all the things that drew him closer, it was your laughter that he cherished most.

Your laughter wasn't restrained or demure; it was the kind that bubbled up from deep within, unfiltered and infectious. Those moments when you would laugh so heartily, throwing your head back without a care in the world, were the ones that Bucky held dear. It was in these bursts of genuine joy that he saw the lightness of being, a stark contrast to the battles and burdens he carried. Your laughter, free and unabashed, symbolized a purity of happiness that Bucky admired. It reminded him that amidst the complexities of life, there existed simple, unguarded moments of joy worth cherishing.

In the twilight of Bucky's life, where happiness seemed more a memory than a possibility, the moments he shared with you illuminated his world with an unexpected joy. Time and again, he teetered on the brink of asking you to intertwine your lives officially, to step beyond the unspoken boundaries of your secret affinity and declare it openly. Yet, each time the words perched on the edge of his tongue, ready to leap into the abyss of possibilities, the thought of Sam cast a long shadow over his resolve.

Sam, the steadfast pillar of your family, was a friend to Bucky in every sense except in name, for their camaraderie was too complex and layered for simple labels. Bucky was acutely aware of the fierce love Sam harbored for you, a protective and encompassing love that was both admirable and intimidating. He knew of the cherished photograph Sam carried in his wallet—a tangible reminder of the bond shared between you, your sister, and his beloved nephews, a snapshot of the life Sam fought so valiantly to protect.

And it was the thought of Sam, with his unwavering loyalty and brotherly love, that stayed Bucky's confession. He was painfully aware of the turmoil that would ensue should Sam discover the depth of his feelings for you. Bucky could almost feel the weight of Sam's betrayal and anger, for in his heart, he knew that his affection for you crossed lines that Sam might never forgive. This tension, this fear of fracturing the fragile truce they had built, kept Bucky silent, trapped in a limbo of longing and loyalty, where his desire to claim your heart battled with his respect for the brother who would view such a confession as the ultimate treachery.

As Zemo led the way, weaving through a throng of onlookers whose eyes darted with a mix of curiosity and caution, the air buzzed with hushed whispers that all seemed to echo the same question: "Is that the Winter Soldier?" Yet, if only they could see beyond the infamy and the scars of war, they'd find Bucky. This was the same Bucky who had once called you in a panic, deep into the night, baffled by the modern conundrum of ordering a television online. The same Bucky who shared with you his playlist of favorite songs, tunes you never expected to enjoy, yet found yourself playing on repeat. And this was the Bucky who, in an earnest attempt to teach you to dance, ended up with you standing on his feet, both of you moving in a clumsy but heartwarming harmony across the floor.

Arriving at the bar, you edged closer to Zemo and Bucky, the latter noticing your approach and subtly shifting to grant you more space. "Good evening," greeted the bartender with a nod towards Sam, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger."

The effort to suppress a grin was Herculean as the nickname filled the air. Your brother, Sam, for all his bravery and skill, was many things, but a master thespian he was not. Tonight, he was to embody Conrad Mack, or "Smiling Tiger," a persona draped in notoriety and whispered about in the darkest corners of the criminal underworld. Knowing Sam's theatrical limits, the anticipation of watching him navigate the guise of an African gangster tinged your apprehension with a thread of amusement, painting the night ahead with the promise of unforgettable moments.

"Plans have shifted," Zemo interjected smoothly, answering on behalf of Sam, who tightened his lips in an attempt at solemnity. The sight was almost comical; Sam's expression ventured into the realms of absurdity. "We have business with Selby tonight."

A cloak of skepticism draped over the bartender's demeanor, his eyes—a mix of inquiry and caution—peered from behind the substantial frames of his glasses. His visage, half-obscured by a beard, seemed out of place in this den of shadows and whispered secrets. One could easily mistake him for a tech wizard from the polished corridors of Stark Industries rather than a keeper of this clandestine establishment.

"The usual, then?" the bartender queried. Sam, lips still tightly sealed, offered a single, determined nod, his posture shifting slightly with unease. With practiced ease, the bartender turned to retrieve a jar housing a deceased equatorial spitting cobra, laying it out with a certain reverence on the cutting board before you. He wielded a knife, expertly slicing the serpent open to extract its heart. This he placed in a shot glass, to which he added a dash of Triple sec, a measure of gin, and a squeeze of finger lime, concocting a drink that teetered on the edge of the exotic and the macabre. Sliding the glass towards Sam, the air was momentarily thick with anticipation.

"Ahh," Zemo exhaled, a chuckle threatening to breach his composure. "The Smiling Tiger, your favorite." The room hung in a momentary suspense, the bizarre ritual highlighting the lengths to which one might go to blend into the shadows of this underworld.

As you reluctantly redirected your attention away from the unsavory scene, your eyes found solace in Bucky's gaze. The moment of eye contact with the super-soldier was like a silent pact, conveying volumes in the briefest exchange. “I think the next part’s worth watching.” His suggestion was delivered in a hush, his voice a soft, enticing caress against the delicate skin of your neck, sparking a cascade of warmth that pooled in the pit of your stomach. You darted a quick look around, half-expecting the assembled throng to notice this intimate exchange. Yet, their attention remained steadfastly on the notorious figure of the Winter Soldier, allowing you a sliver of privacy in the crowded space.

Turning back towards your brother, you endeavored to steady your racing heart, to cloak the fluttering butterflies that Bucky's nearness had unfurled within you. But it was akin to trying to calm a storm with whispered words; Bucky's heat enveloped you, a comforting yet unnerving presence. Then, almost imperceptibly, he edged closer, a mere shift that breached the scant distance between you. His chest hovered just shy of touching your back, a whisper of contact that electrified your senses.

Your body responded before your mind could catch up, muscles tensing, heart thundering against your ribcage as if seeking escape. The air seemed to thicken, each breath a labor through the heightened tension that his proximity wrought. The warmth from his body seeped through the fabric of your clothes, branding your skin with a heat that was both foreign and intoxicating. A shiver coursed through you, unbidden, as you fought the urge to lean back into him, to seek solace in the strength of his embrace. His presence, so close and yet so restrained, left you teetering on the edge of something profound, a precipice overlooking a maelstrom of uncharted emotions and desires.

The atmosphere in the dimly lit, cramped space was charged with an uneasy anticipation as Sam steeled himself to down the concoction before him – the alcohol mingling with the snake's heart in a display of grit and resolve. Standing beside him, you could almost taste the bile rising in your own throat at the thought, empathy for Sam's predicament tangling with your own visceral reaction. It was in this moment of vicarious revulsion that you felt it—a touch so light, so fleeting on your arm that it could have been mistaken for a trick of the air, save for the deep, intrinsic knowledge that it was Bucky. His touch, though minimal, carried with it a warmth and a reassurance that seemed to cut through the tension of the moment, grounding you.

This gentle caress, lost to anyone else's perception, was like a beacon to your heightened senses, which seemed to come alive with a fervor that only Bucky's presence could ignite. It was a silent communication, a shared moment amidst the chaos, confirming that his attention was riveted not on the grotesque spectacle unfolding with your brother but on you. And then, without need for visual confirmation, you sensed the subtle shift in his posture, the lean of his body just close enough for you to catch the light inhale as he discreetly breathed in the scent of your hair. The intimacy of the action, hidden in plain sight, had your eyelids fluttering close, teetering on the edge of surrender to the sensation.

But the moment was shattered by the intrusion of a new, deep voice, unfamiliar and brusque, pulling Bucky's gaze away from you for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The voice belonged to a tattooed biker who had sidled up beside Zemo, breaking the spell that had cocooned you and Bucky in your private world. Yet, even as Bucky's eyes momentarily flicked to the newcomer, assessing and then dismissing him as a threat, his hand lingered on your arm, a silent vow of protection and an unwillingness to completely sever the thread of connection between you.

When the biker had disappeared back into the throng of the bar's patrons, Bucky's voice, low and resonant, brushed your cheek, "A Power Broker, really?" His breath was a warm caress, a contrast to the cool air of the bar and the cold reality of their mission.

Zemo's response was a shrug, nonchalant yet laden with the weight of their precarious position within this den of intrigue and danger. "Every kingdom needs its king. Let's just pray we stay under his radar." The words were a stark reminder of the peril that shadowed their every step, yet, for a fleeting moment, the only truth that seemed to matter was the connection between you and Bucky, a silent acknowledgment of a bond that thrived even in the heart of danger.

As your brother subtly leaned in, distancing himself from the ears of the surrounding strangers, his voice carried a note of quiet inquiry, "Do you know him?" His gaze was sharp, the weight of leadership and concern pressing upon his features, a look you knew all too well.

Zemo, ever the enigmatic figure, glanced briefly over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping across the teeming masses of Madripoor's underworld. "Only by reputation," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of wariness. He continued, his tone lowering to match the gravity of his words, "He is judge, jury, and executioner in Madripoor." The way Zemo articulated the roles imbued them with a sense of dread, painting a picture of a figure wielding absolute power over life and death in this lawless land.

As Sam prepared to step back, blending once more into the crowded backdrop of the bar, his gaze inadvertently fell upon Bucky's hand, a subtle yet intimate gesture resting gently on your arm. The silent question was evident in the arch of his brow, a wordless probe into the nature of the connection he had just witnessed. Despite the many shared battles and secrets between you, this particular nuance of your relationship with Bucky remained veiled from Sam's knowledge. He knew of the camaraderie, the shared jokes, and the mutual respect; what he had yet to grasp was the depth that lay beneath those surface interactions.

Caught under the weight of your brother's scrutiny, you felt a compelling urge to divert, to shield the budding complexity of your relationship with Bucky from any further inquiry. With a practiced nonchalance, you reached for the glass that had mysteriously found its way before you—its contents unknown but suddenly invaluable as a means of distraction. The glass felt cool against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the warmth spreading through your chest, fueled by Bucky's proximity and the intensity of your brother's gaze.

Without granting Sam the acknowledgment he sought, you lifted the glass, the liquid inside catching the dim light of the bar in a fleeting dance of shadows. With a resolve born of necessity, you downed the contents in one swift motion, the liquid tracing a burning path down your throat, a physical manifestation of the turmoil swirling within. In that moment, the intricacies of your heart's desires, the silent yearnings, and the whispered dreams shared in the quiet with Bucky were drowned in the sharp bite of the drink. There was no love life to dissect, you reasoned, at least not one that could be neatly explained or openly acknowledged under the watchful eyes of your brother. This was a complexity you were not yet ready to unravel, preferring instead the sanctity of ambiguity and the solace found in the unspoken.

From the periphery of your vision, the subtle yet unmistakable shift of the crowd's focus toward your group sent a ripple of tension through the air. Zemo, breaking the mounting silence, uttered something in Russian, his voice a sharp command that instantly put Bucky, who loomed protectively behind you, on high alert. Your grasp of Russian might have been rudimentary at best, but the gravity carried by the word "attack" pierced through any language barrier, sending a shiver down your spine. Your gaze darted anxiously between Bucky and Zemo, then to the increasingly hostile encirclement of men.

In a moment driven by instinct more than thought, your hand found Bucky's arm, a silent plea for restraint, an acknowledgment of the heavy burdens he bore and the battles you wished he wouldn't have to fight again. Yet, as the hand of an adversary reached for Zemo, intent on aggression, Bucky's protective instincts overrode any hesitations. The mission's success, the preservation of your collective guise, demanded action.

With a fluidity born of countless battles, Bucky intercepted the stranger's hand, wrenching it into a grim contortion of pain before hoisting him by the collar. The air was punctuated by the thud of the man's body crashing to the ground, a clear signal to the onlookers who, rather than stepping in, recoiled to the safety of the crowd's edges. Their initial shock quickly gave way to the modern reflex of capturing chaos on their smartphones, eager to document the return of the Winter Soldier.

Another assailant lunged forward, driven either by bravado or foolishness, only to meet Bucky's calculated fury. A swift strike to the chest paired with a debilitating kick to the shin sent the man staggering, a prelude to the crushing force of Bucky's elbow against his back. But Bucky was far from done; he delivered a final, forceful kick to the assailant's stomach with such power that the man was propelled backward, colliding with another would-be attacker and sending them both sprawling to the ground.

In those tense moments, Bucky transformed the immediate vicinity into a no-man's land, a clear warning to any who still harbored thoughts of joining the fray. The message was unambiguous: the Winter Soldier, though cloaked in the guise of Bucky Barnes, remained a formidable force, his actions a blend of precision and power that left no room for doubt or defiance.

The melee unfolded with relentless ferocity, each blow landing with a chilling finality. Amidst the chaos, Zemo's unexpected touch on your waist snapped your attention sharply to him, an unwelcome distraction amidst the turmoil. His fingers were cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of the skirmish that raged a mere breath away. Holding a shot glass, with another stationed invitingly before him on the bar's counter, Zemo seemed almost nonchalant, as if the violent ballet unfolding around you two was mere background noise.

You could only hope that Sam's gaze was entirely consumed by the spectacle of the fight, lest Zemo's audacity earn him a swift and severe reprimand—the kind that involved a painful reconfiguration of his hand's anatomy. And, should Sam's protective instincts flare up, your carefully maintained cover would be shattered in an instant.

"So," Zemo initiated casually, offering you the glass while securing his own. His demeanor was eerily calm, a man unfazed by the chaos, his curiosity piqued by personal intrigues rather than the potential dangers that lurked in your immediate vicinity. "How long have you and James been seeing each other?"

His question caught you off guard, a blunt intrusion that left you momentarily flustered. "Excuse you?" you retorted, the sharpness in your voice mirroring your surprise.

He downed his shot in one fluid motion, a satisfied exhale following the liquid's descent. "Oh," he dismissed with a nonchalant wave of his hand, a gesture that belied the keen observation behind his words. "Your brother might be wearing blinders, but I certainly do not. It's been quite evident that Barnes has scarcely glanced away from you all evening."

You found yourself grappling for a response, the unexpected scrutiny leaving you unsettled. "Well, uh," you stumbled over your words, grappling for composure. "It's just what he does—staring." Your gaze dropped to the shot glass cradled in your palm, its contents suddenly more appealing than the conversation. With a swift tilt of your hand, you emptied the glass, the liquid courage coursing through you. Instinctively, you braced yourself for whatever probing questions Zemo might pose next, bolstered now by a fleeting rush of boldness from the alcohol.

Zemo's attention subtly shifted behind you, a prelude to his hand sneaking once more to your waist. A wry smirk played at the corner of his lips as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against your ear with a whispered directive, "Get ready." Immobilized by a sudden rush of surprise, you found yourself momentarily unable to react, your mind racing to process the unwelcome proximity.

As you regained your composure, indignation fueling your resolve, your hands began to rise, intent on removing his intrusion. Yet, before you could act, a familiar and comforting warmth enveloped your back. A sharp intake of breath caught in your throat as a low, protective growl resonated from behind you, a primal sound that spoke volumes of the tension filling the air.

In the blink of an eye, Zemo's hand was forcibly removed from you, Bucky's intervention swift and silent. The warning in Bucky's eyes was unmistakable, a clear message that brooked no argument. His grip on Zemo's hand tightened, a silent demonstration of his protective instincts. The strain was evident as Zemo's face flushed, a crimson wave ascending his neck in stark contrast to his paling face, a vivid testament to the discomfort and possibly fear induced by Bucky's ironclad hold.

Observing the intensity of the moment, you placed your hand gently atop Bucky's, seeking to diffuse the tension. "It's okay," you whispered soothingly, a plea for peace. "Let him go." Your voice, though soft, carried the weight of your concern, hoping to coax Bucky back from the brink of further conflict.

With a grudging release of pressure, Bucky acquiesced to your request, albeit with a distasteful grunt. He allowed Zemo the mercy of an unbroken hand, a testament to his respect for your wishes. The moment, charged with silent confrontations and unspoken bonds, highlighted the deep connection between you and Bucky, a bond that transcended mere words, resonating with loyalty, protection, and an unyielding sense of unity.

The tension in the air was palpable, a heavy cloud that seemed to weigh down every breath, until the bartender's voice sliced through the silence with the precision of a well-honed blade. "Selby will see you now," he announced, effectively diffusing the charged atmosphere. As you were ushered down the dimly lit corridor by a group of stern-faced men, the arrangement was strategic: Zemo leading, followed by Sam, with you nestled securely in the middle, and Bucky bringing up the rear, his vigilant gaze ensuring no threat would find its way to you unnoticed.

In a fluid motion born of protective instinct, Bucky's fingers found your wrist, gently but firmly pulling you aside into the seclusion of the shadowed alcove. The dim light played across his features, casting deep shadows that sculpted his face with an intensity that was almost breathtaking. His rugged attractiveness, framed in the half-light, struck you with a force that made your heart flutter. "Are you okay?" you found yourself asking, drawn into the complexity of emotions that danced within his eyes. It was clear he was wrestling with his own turmoil, yet his proximity to you, so near that the soft flutter of your eyelashes could have brushed against his cheek, seemed to both unsettle and anchor him.

“Next time he grabs you like that—” He cut himself of, jaw clenching.

As you laid your hand against the solid warmth of his chest in a comforting gesture, a ripple of tension eased from his frame. "It's okay," your whisper broke the intimate silence between you, your gaze lifting to meet his. "I'm okay, promise. He was just trying to get under your skin."

His eyes, a mirror to his soul, roamed over your features with an intensity that felt as though he was memorizing every detail, every curve, and contour, before finally settling back into your gaze. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" His voice, soft yet filled with an emotion that resonated deep within your chest, enveloped you in a warmth that went beyond the physical closeness. In that moment, amidst the shadows and whispers of danger, a connection forged in the crucible of shared experiences and unspoken understanding deepened, transcending the chaos of the world outside.

Your smile, blossoming in response to Bucky's unexpected compliment, was abruptly cut short by Zemo's call for the Winter Soldier, reverberating ominously off the walls. A mutual sigh of resignation passed between you and Bucky. With a bite to your lip, signaling the gravity of the interruption, you took a hesitant step back, murmuring, "We should go."

Bucky's response was a tight nod, the muscles along his jawline tensing visibly as he too made the difficult choice to distance himself. The atmosphere shifted palpably as you entered Selby's domain. She was ensconced regally in an armchair, her fingers drumming a slow, deliberate rhythm against its worn fabric, embodying the calm before the storm. "You should know, Baron," she began, her voice cool and measured, "people don’t just come into my bar and make demands."

Zemo, unfazed, countered with equal calmness, "Not a demand, an offer."

Selby's demeanor hinted at a mix of curiosity and caution as she observed the changes in her domain and the players within it. "A lot has changed since you were here last," she remarked, her gaze sliding over Bucky with undisguised interest. "By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?"

Zemo, settling himself before Selby with a nonchalance born of confidence, merely shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "People like us always find a way, don’t we? I'm sure you've already figured out what I am here for."

Selby, her attention never straying from Zemo, extended a languid finger toward your brother, her voice taking on a teasing, almost flirtatious tone. "You're taller than I'd heard, Smiling Tiger," she purred, her grin sharp as a knife's edge, before shifting her focus back to Zemo. "What's the offer?"

"Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum." Zemo's command hung in the air, heavy with implication. He rose, his movements deliberate, as he made his way to where Bucky and you stood in a silent vigil. The audacity of his next offer sliced through the tension like a cold blade. "And I give you him," Zemo gestured towards Bucky with a chilling casualness, "along with the code words that control him, of course." His fingers dared to trace a path along Bucky's jawline, a presumptuous gesture that hinted at possession. "He will do anything you want." You moved your hand to brush against his, blocking the view with your body, not wanting your cover to blow, also not wanting Bucky to blow up because of the over-the-top trade Zemo was talking about, which he hadn’t disclosed with you "Now, that’s the Zemo I remember," Selby's voice curled with a mix of admiration and threat, her lips twisting into a grin that was as dangerous as it was pleased. "I'm glad I decided not to kill you immediately." She mused aloud, nodding to herself as if affirming her own wisdom. "Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right." Zemo, with a nod acknowledging the compliment veiled as a critique, moved back to his chair, rejoining the precarious dance of conversation.

"The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor," Selby continued, her revelation hanging in the smoky air like a veiled threat. "Doctor Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank, or…" Her voice trailed off as she tilted her head, her gaze sharp, "Or condemn, depending on what side you're on."

"Is Nagel still in Madripoor?" Zemo's question cut through the tension, his inquiry pointed and loaded with unspoken implications.

Selby stood, her movement fluid as a shadow, drifting behind Zemo. She was about to divulge the answer, a secret that could tip the scales, when the moment was shattered by the unexpected vibration of a cell phone. Sam's cell phone, ingeniously hidden within the confines of your bra, the only place deemed secure given the impracticality of the suit's tiny pockets. The room froze, a tableau of anticipation and dread, as all eyes darted towards you. The vibration continued, a silent herald of impending chaos, until, with a steadiness you hardly felt, you retrieved the phone. The caller ID flashed "Mom jr." — a code name for your older sister, Sarah, that now felt like a harbinger of disaster.

"Go on," Selby's voice was a command laced with curiosity and a hint of menace, her henchman already looming ominously behind her. "Answer it. On speaker."

With a nod, terse and devoid of any option but compliance, you swiped the screen, the green circle heralding a connection fraught with risk. Clearing your throat, an attempt to mask the torrent of nerves, you answered with a voice feigning confidence, "Smiling Tiger."

"...Okay." The brief silence that followed was thick with confusion, Sarah's voice betraying her bewilderment. "Why do you have his phone? Is he there?"

"Uh, yeah, yes, he is."

"Could I speak to him? It's urgent."

"Sure." You navigated the tense atmosphere with caution, aware of the danger that lurked in every corner. Approaching Sam, you offered the phone with a discreet, "Sir."

Sam accepted the phone, his throat clearing a precursor to the conversation. "Hello?"

"Hey, uhm, we need to talk about this situation. It's been driving me nuts."

"What situation are you talking about exactly?"

"Are you high? You know the situation. It’s the only situation me and you have."

"What situation, Sarah? Say it."

"The damn boat. And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank."

Sam's scoff was almost audible, a mixture of disbelief and humor. "The bank, yeah. Laundered so much money," he chuckled. "Yeah, they'll come around."

"If that’s the case, then why'd they dog you out, Big Time?"

"Yeah, you damn right I'm Big Time. You'll see when I have that banker killed." Your gaze flickered to Bucky, dreading the potential fallout from this precarious bluff.

"Cass! What did I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!" Sarah's exasperated outburst was unexpected, yet somehow, it underscored the normalcy of life's chaos — even when worlds apart, Cheerios could cause turmoil. "Sam, I'm sorry, let me call you back."

"Sam?" Selby's voice, sharp with suspicion, cut through the room. "Who's Sam?" Her eyes scanned the room, landing on one of her men as she gave the lethal order, "Kill them!" No sooner had the command left her lips than a bullet from an unseen sniper found its mark, sailing through the window to claim Selby's life with unerring precision.

As Selby's men, jolted by the sudden turn of events, scrambled to retaliate, the trio leapt into action, their movements a blend of desperation and determination, ready to confront the chaos unleashed by a single, ill-timed phone call.

Sam's movements were swift and precise, his elbow connecting with the gut of the assailant beside him with a force that spoke of urgency and desperation. In a fluid motion, he seized the man's weapon, leveraging his strength to send his adversary crumbling to the floor. Nearby, Bucky confronted another threat, an opponent armed with an automatic firearm. The bullets, however, were no match for Bucky's metallic arm. With an almost serene calmness, he raised his arm, the bullets ricocheting off the vibranium and falling harmlessly to the ground, their lethal intent nullified. With a swift, decisive movement, Bucky disarmed the gunman, the heavy thud of the weapon striking the assailant's head a grim punctuation to the confrontation.

Zemo, meanwhile, exhibited a different kind of strategy. He glided to the side, a ballet of avoidance, demonstrating a preference to remain on the fringes of the physical altercation. His demeanor suggested disinterest, a calculated decision to avoid the fray, yet you knew the truth. Zemo possessed skills honed by experience, a dangerous combatant by any measure, choosing discretion over engagement.

As for yourself, standing on the precipice of engagement, you too could have dismantled any adversary with ease, mirroring Zemo's restraint. Yet, it wasn't the fear of the fight that stilled your hand, nor the dread of physical harm. It was a deeper, more insidious kind of fear that gnawed at your resolve — the fear of responsibility. Sam had seen the toll it took on you, the anxiety that came with wielding your powers. He reassured you, time and again, that it was okay to hold back, understanding the weight that came with such immense power.

You had mastered control over your abilities, a feat that was as much for those around you as it was for your peace of mind. But control was a fragile thing, a constant battle against the possibility of a catastrophic slip. The echoes of the past haunted you, a stark reminder of the chaos unleashed during the battle against Thanos. The risk you had posed to your brother's life was a memory etched in the recesses of your mind, a harrowing reminder of the potential consequences of your powers. The burden of that day weighed heavily on your shoulders, a silent vow to never relive that helplessness, that guilt, again. Control could temper the power, but it could never erase the memories, the fears, or the haunting possibility of what could happen should it ever falter.

The moment unfolded before you with a surreal clarity, as if time itself had bent to accommodate the gravity of what was about to transpire. There stood Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme, his figure exuding an aura of solemnity. With a hand stretched towards you, his voice cut through the chaos of your thoughts, delivering the harrowing message that Thanos was on the precipice of ushering in another war.

The ground beneath you felt unsteady, as if it too, shared in your tumult of emotions. Your body was a tempest of sensations, akin to being engulfed in invisible flames, an internal inferno that threatened to consume your very essence. Your hands, held out in front of you, became the focal point of your bewildered gaze. They glowed with an ethereal green luminescence, transforming your eyes into beacons of an otherworldly force. In that moment, you were a stranger even to yourself, your identity obscured by the overwhelming power that surged within you. You feared that even your brother, upon witnessing this transformation, would find himself staring at an unfamiliar figure, your familiar visage masked by an alien force.

It was during this maelstrom of confusion and fear that Stephen Strange recognized the tumultuous energy you were channeling. With a wisdom borne of his experiences with the mystic arts, he extended not just his hand but an offer of guidance and mastery over the forces that now threatened to unravel you.

Amidst this turmoil, a familiar voice pierced the veil of your disorientation. Bucky's voice, imbued with urgency and concern, reached out to you, grounding you back to reality. "We gotta go." His words, simple yet laden with an unspoken promise of safety, beckoned you. As your gaze snapped towards him, you were met with the sight of his outstretched hand, a lifeline in the chaos.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you placed your palm against his, the warmth of his grip a stark contrast to the cold uncertainty that had gripped your heart. Led by Bucky, you began to make your way out of the building, each step away from the epicenter of your crisis a step towards reclaiming the self that had been momentarily lost in the eye of the storm.

As Zemo's directive to abandon their firearms behind echoed in your mind, a profound vulnerability washed over you, intensifying the uncertainty that already clouded your heart. The decision to venture into the unknown without the familiar weight of a weapon at your side left you feeling starkly exposed, each step on the pavement echoing your apprehension.

Amidst the chaos, the glow of countless phone screens caught your attention, their omnipresence a stark reminder of the digital eyes that followed your every move. Your grip on Bucky's hand tightened, a help in centering you amidst the swirling uncertainty, your fingers intertwined with his in a silent plea for reassurance. Bucky, feeling the tremor of your grasp, was confronted with an overwhelming pressure in his chest—a sensation so intense, it seemed as though his heart might shatter through his ribcage. The logical part of his mind suggested that releasing your trembling hand might alleviate some of his distress, disconnecting him from the tangible evidence of your fear. Yet, the thought of pulling you even closer overpowered him, a testament to the protective instinct that surged within him, despite the presence of his partner in crime at his side, equally eager to escape the impending peril and shield you from harm.

Out of the corner of your eye, a figure detached from the crowd caught your attention—a woman, standing apart with her hands mimicking the shape of a gun, playfully ‘shooting’ at your group. This macabre pantomime, juxtaposed against the sea of illuminated screens, shed light on the grim realization that you and your companions had been reduced to mere targets in a deadly game, surrounded by a multitude of unseen adversaries, each one thirsting for blood and the lure of a reward.

In the fraction of a second before you could advance another step, the air was pierced by the unmistakable sound of gunfire. An instinctive fear gripped you, catalyzing a reaction that tore you away from Bucky's grasp. You spun around, just as a barrage of bullets threatened to engulf your group in a lethal storm. Driven by a deep-seated impulse to protect, you extended your hands, your eyes instinctively closing as you tapped into a wellspring of power that had lain dormant within you for far too long. The air around you charged with anticipation, as if the very essence of your being had awakened to confront the danger head-on.

Upon daring to open your eyes, fearing the aftermath of your instinctual reaction, you were confronted with a surreal tableau: bullets suspended mid-air, frozen in time and space, an arm's length away, creating an eerie stillness in the midst of chaos. The sheer number of projectiles, hovering ominously close, sent a shiver down your spine, yet it was the sight of your own fingers, aglow with a radiant green luminance, that truly captivated you. It was a strange juxtaposition—how could something so ethereally beautiful harbor the potential for immense destruction?

Your fascination gave way to action as you turned your palm, the bullets beginning to dissolve into nothingness, disintegrating into a fine mist just before reaching your skin. The urgency to locate your assailant led your eyes to a figure, scant meters away, wielding a machine gun braced against a makeshift stand in the bustling market. With a focused gesture, you manipulated the now-liquefied metal, directing it with lethal precision towards the gunman. He recoiled, anticipating pain or perhaps even death, but instead, you targeted his weapon. The metal swarm enveloped the gun, rendering it inoperable, parts of its mechanism dissolving into oblivion.

The surrounding crowd, momentarily taken aback by the display of power, quickly regrouped, their initial shock transforming into twisted smiles as they once again raised their weapons. It was then that your brother intervened, his hand clasping yours with determined strength, pulling you back into the frenetic escape. The concept of a leisurely retreat was a luxury far removed from reality as you both dashed through the dense throngs of Madripoor, a city now teeming with adversaries drawn by the allure of a bounty. The streets, alive with danger, became a labyrinth as you navigated through the relentless pursuit, the weight of potential violence pressing against you from all sides.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam's grumble about his unsuitable footwear for their frenzied escape almost halted you in your tracks, the urge to chastise him for his complaint bubbling up fiercely.

"I'm wearing six-inch heels, you idiot!" you retorted, your voice slicing through the tension as you were half-dragged, half-ran, your form almost seeming to bounce off the pavement with each step.

Just then, the distinct growl of motorbikes escalated behind you, a clear sign that your pursuers were closing in with alarming speed. Instinctively, you twisted around, freeing one arm from your brother's firm grasp. A brilliant emerald glow enveloped your hand as you unleashed a force resembling a sonic boom towards your chasers. Glancing back, you witnessed the bikers caught in a surreal slow-motion, ensnared within the temporal anomaly you'd unwittingly summoned.

The urgency of your flight tapered off as your brother gradually decelerated, releasing your hand to take in the quietude that had enveloped the scene. Zemo, ever the observer, couldn't hide his admiration, stepping closer with a sly grin. "Quite impressive, if I may say so myself."

“You may not.” His commendation was met with a mutter from Bucky, barely audible yet brimming with protectiveness. Bucky positioned himself squarely between you and Zemo, effectively shielding you from the latter's view. Sam, meanwhile, appeared utterly bemused, hands perched on his hips as he oscillated his gaze between you and Bucky, bewildered by the sudden shift in dynamics.

"Okay, what—?" Sam began, only to be cut off as the moment teetered on the brink of unraveling.

"Well, isn’t this just perfect," a voice chimed from the enveloping shadows, laced with a mix of amusement and disbelief. Emerging into the dim light, a blonde woman approached with her gun poised, her stance radiating confidence and danger. Recognition flickered through your mind, delayed by the surreal context. Sharon Carter, the name finally clicked, associated with tales of Steve Rogers and his erstwhile entanglements. Sam's anecdotes, usually shared with a mix of reverence and jest, painted her in the light of a past fraught with complex allegiances, especially during the so-called Civil War—a term you found overly dramatic for what essentially amounted to a highly publicized skirmish among comrades at an airport.

"Sharon?" Bucky's voice cut through your thoughts, tinged with a blend of surprise and uncertainty. The Sharon Carter you'd heard of through scattered stories seemed far removed from the woman who now stood before you, gun in hand, in the underbelly of Madripoor. It was a reflection, perhaps, of how life's unpredictable currents could sweep anyone into unforeseen harbors.

Her gaze, sharp and unyielding, locked onto Zemo, the intensity of her scorn palpable. "You cost me everything," she accused, the words heavy with resentment. Sam attempted to interject, offering explanations that seemed to dissipate before they could reach her, lost in the void of her grievance. "I stole Steve's shield, remember?" she reminded, her resolve steel-hard, the weapon unwavering in her grasp. "I also took the wings for your ass," she directed at Sam, causing a ripple of tension to pass through you. The mention of sacrifices made—her actions for their benefit—underscored the gravity of her fall from grace. Her focus shifted momentarily to Bucky, implicating him in the web of consequences, before returning to Zemo with a disdainful flick. Finally, her eyes found you, registering your presence with a flicker of surprise. "No idea who you are," she stated, an admission that underscored the complexity of alliances and identities in this shadowy world.

With a determined stride, Bucky advanced towards Sharon, his every step a testament to his intent to defuse the tension that crackled in the air. He engaged her with words, his tone both pleading and firm, navigating through the storm of her fury. Eventually, her grip on the gun loosened, the weapon tucked away after an exasperated sigh, a silent concession to his efforts. Sharon then proposed an unexpected truce, inviting you all back to her sanctuary. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you; moments before, the cold metal of her gun had promised anything but hospitality.

Crossing the threshold into Sharon's abode, you were immediately struck by an array of art that adorned every wall and surface. The collection was staggering, a visual feast of masterpieces that seemed too authentic, too valuable to be merely decorative. You half-joked to yourself about the possibility of the Mona Lisa being tucked away in a corner, marveling at the fortune that surrounded you, captured in oil and canvas.

The offer of a change of attire came next, with Sharon presenting an array of elegant garments that seemed to glide into the room on a valet rod. The promise of shedding your current attire, particularly the torturous heels that had been your nemesis throughout the evening, was a relief. Barefoot, you approached the selection with eagerness, only to have your enthusiasm dimmed by the realization that the options available were far removed from your comfort zone. Accustomed to the simple reliability of sneakers and boots, the sight of such finery felt daunting, alien.

Facing Sharon, a hint of disappointment lacing your expression, you ventured a request, hoping for something more aligned with your sense of style. "Don't you have anything less... that?" The words hung between you, a polite plea for normalcy amidst the opulence that defined her world.

"Like what?" Sharon's question cut through the tension in the room, her gaze drifting momentarily over Bucky and his shirtless state alongside Zemo. The moment made your skin crawl slightly, an unwelcome distraction in the midst of the unfolding scenario.

"Jeans?" you ventured hopefully, trying to steer the conversation back to a more comfortable topic, despite the circumstances.

"We are going to a club in Madripoor," Sharon pointed out, as if the venue demanded a specific dress code that was far from your preference.

"Yes?" you responded, not fully grasping why your suggested attire wouldn't be suitable, your tone a mixture of confusion and mild annoyance.

After a brief pause, during which Sharon seemed to consider her response, she chose to bypass your suggestion entirely, moving past you as if you had become part of the room's extravagant background. Your frustration evident, you rolled your eyes at her dismissive attitude and turned back to the daunting task of selecting an outfit from the array provided. Among the lavish options, you managed to find flared leather leggings and a high-neck crop top with a singular sleeve—a rebellious choice that echoed your own style while avoiding the discomfort of another glitter-infested dress. As you began the awkward dance of changing into the leather pants without first removing your current dress, a subtle commotion caught your attention.

Bucky, ever the protector, had taken it upon himself to ensure your privacy. His large hand found Zemo's neck, not harshly but with enough insistence to pivot the man's attention away from you. However, it wasn't just Zemo's attention he was diverting; his own gaze, filled with an intensity you couldn't quite decipher, kept flickering back to you. Each look seemed to linger a moment too long, filled with an emotion he seemed to struggle to define, let alone express. With a visible effort, Bucky tore his gaze away, a stern resolve setting in as he forced himself to focus on anything but you.

Your brother went to lift his whiskey glass off the table when he spotted what was inside of it. A shiver ran down his as he fished out the little snake part and stood to throw it out the window. The expression on his face made you throw your head back laughing. He raised his brow at you in question. You lifted your hands. "I didn’t do it."

"Then why are you laughing?"

"Because whoever did, is a genius." You were about to pull the top over your head when Sam pinched you in the side. "Ow, what the hell, Sam!" With furrowed brows, and the tight top stuck on your shoulders, you tried to kick him in the shin, though he moved back just in time; a broad grin rested on his face. "Too slow, sista," Sam teased, his playful nudge against your head causing your already precarious balance to falter further. With a grunt of mock indignation, you surged forward, aiming a determined chest-bump at your brother, eager to see him mirror your momentary imbalance. Your efforts were rewarded with a triumphant laugh as Sam was forced to step back, the shared moment of childish glee lighting up your features with a wide grin. This brief interlude of sibling rivalry whisked you back to those carefree days of your youth, where even the simplest acts of brotherly teasing felt like the grandest adventures. Back then, Sam could do no wrong in your eyes, the epitome of an older brother in the most magnificent form.

In the midst of your playful scuffle, you were secretly relieved that Sharon had exited the room. Her presence might have added a layer of self-consciousness to the innocent chaos. Although the antics might seem juvenile to an outsider, to you, they were a rare slice of normalcy—a cherished reminder of a life untouched by cosmic wars or Thanos' dread shadow.

As Sam busied himself with selecting an outfit, your struggle with the unyielding fabric of your top grew increasingly frustrating. The material, devoid of any give, clung stubbornly in all the wrong places. With your back to Bucky, a soft sigh of exasperation escaped you. "Buck?" The quiet call for assistance was barely above a whisper, yet it summoned his attention instantly.

"Need a hand?" His voice was close, filled with a gentle concern that made your heart flutter slightly.

"Yes, please," came your subdued reply, the momentary vulnerability feeling strangely intimate. Then, you felt it—his touch. The slight graze of Bucky's skin against yours as his fingers traced a path up your side, his touch delicate yet assured. He navigated the fabric with a tender precision, his fingers briefly pausing at the edge of your top before guiding it smoothly into place. The fleeting caress that followed lingered just long enough to ignite a shiver of anticipation, a warmth blossoming within you that craved the closeness of his embrace. His breath, a warm whisper against the nape of your neck, sent a thrilling chill down your spine.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, the compliment hanging in the air between you, charged with an unspoken emotion that seemed to draw you even closer, tethering your heart to his with an invisible thread of affection and longing.

"I absolutely agree," Zemo's voice cut through the tension, drawing an involuntary growl of annoyance from Bucky. With a gesture of mock surrender, Zemo backed away, his steps carrying him to the bar where three glasses of whiskey awaited their silent call to be savored. Bucky, feeling the palpable shift in the room's dynamics, reluctantly distanced himself from you, his departure leaving a subtle chill in the wake of his warmth. He reclaimed his seat on the sofa, a move you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment over.

Sharon chose that moment to grace the room with her presence, her arrival marked by the lively bounce of her blonde waves. She exuded a casual confidence, her tone light, yet probing. "So," she hummed, curiosity lacing her words, "How's the new Cap doing?"

Before Sam had the chance to form a response, Bucky's voice, laced with a mixture of disdain and resignation, filled the room. "Don’t get me started." His hands found each other, intertwining in an awkward dance as his gaze inadvertently met yours. Even in the simplicity of his all-black ensemble, accentuated by a blazer that lent an air of sophistication, Bucky looked effortlessly handsome, commanding the space around him with an understated elegance.

Sharon, undeterred by the tense atmosphere, pressed on, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "Oh, please. You buy into all that stars and striped bullshit." Her pointed gaze shifted to Zemo. "Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap's best friend." With a fluid motion, she sank into the space beside Bucky, a deliberate bite of her lip following her words.

The action did not go unnoticed, drawing a frown from you, a silent testament to the unfolding dynamics. Bucky, catching Sam's eye, shared a moment of mutual understanding, tinged with a hint of disbelief. "Wow," he uttered, the word heavy with implication. "She's kind of awful now." His observation, though softly spoken, resonated with a mix of humor and a poignant undercurrent of nostalgia for times and alliances past.

As you momentarily extracted yourself from the animated discussion unfurling within the living room, your attention was ensnared by the relentless buzzing of your phone, a beacon of unchecked notifications. A myriad of messages from your sister painted your screen, a digital mosaic of concern and updates. "I'll be right back," you announced, your voice threading through the dense air of conversation that was currently monopolized by debates over the Flag Smashers. The name itself, a moniker you found both laughably juvenile and misleadingly innocuous, echoed in your thoughts as you distanced yourself from the discourse, finding solace in the quietude of the hallway.

Leaning against the cool, indifferent wall, you began the arduous task of sifting through the digital deluge, your fingers scrolling with practiced ease. It was then, amidst the solitude of your temporary retreat, that the ambiance subtly shifted, heralding the approach of another. The door opened with a hushed creak, and there he was—Bucky, his presence alone commanding your undivided attention.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice a gentle intrusion, as he navigated the space around you to claim his own against the wall opposite. His casual demeanor belied the concern etched into the furrows of his brow.

"Hey," you echoed, a mirror of his own greeting, yet laden with an unspoken acknowledgment of the weight he carried in his gaze.

"You alright?" His inquiry was simple, yet laden with layers of unvoiced thoughts and concerns. There was a palpable hesitation in his words, a reluctance to tread upon the terrain of your powers—a subject he knew stirred a tempest of emotions within you. “You used your powers.”

"I did," came your affirmation, your response punctuated with a grin that sought to mask the undercurrent of apprehension that had long shadowed your relationship with your own abilities. "I'm alright, though, really." Your attempt to reassure him—and perhaps yourself—was sincere. "It felt weirdly freeing to use them. To see how well I can actually keep control. They are still kind of scary, though."

As the words tumbled from your lips, Bucky bridged the gap between you, each step he took charged with an unspoken intensity. Suddenly, the world seemed to narrow down to the space that separated you, every detail of his approach etched into your memory—the way the light danced in his eyes, the barely perceptible tension in his jaw, the silent communication of his body language that spoke volumes of his concern and his undeniable pull towards you.

The proximity between you dwindled to a mere breath, a distance so trivial yet laden with a myriad of unspoken possibilities. The air around you thickened, charged with a palpable tension that sent your heart racing, your breaths shallow. The notion of closing the distance, of yielding to the gravitational pull that seemed to draw you inexorably towards him, flickered through your mind like a tantalizing promise. It was an effort to maintain your composure, to anchor yourself to the moment without succumbing to the overwhelming urge to bridge the final vestiges of space with a kiss that threatened to unravel both of you.

Pressed against the cool, unyielding surface of the wall, the intensity of the moment had magnified as Bucky's hands found their way to your waist, his grip tightening with a hunger that sent waves of anticipation coursing through your veins. His large, calloused hands, battle-hardened yet gentle, conveyed a sense of urgency as they dug into your flesh, pulling you impossibly closer into his embrace. The strength in his touch was paradoxically comforting, each finger imprinting a promise of protection and desire onto your skin.

The world around you had faded into a distant murmur, his presence engulfing you, drowning out everything else. Bucky's body molded against yours, his chest to your chest, his hips locked with yours in a dance as old as time. The pressure of his hands on your waist was both a claim and a caress, a testament to the depth of his longing. It was as if he was trying to merge two separate existences into one, to erase any space that still lingered between you.

As his lips moved with a tender ferocity against yours, you could feel the raw power of his emotions, restrained yet palpable. The sensation of being wholly desired, of being pulled into someone's orbit with such intensity, was both exhilarating and terrifying. His touch spoke volumes, whispered of need and want that had been simmering beneath the surface, now unleashed in the privacy of this shared moment.

The hunger in his grasp was matched only by the passion of your response, your own hands exploring the expanse of his back, tracing the lines of muscle and scars that told the story of his past. Together, you were adrift in a sea of heightened sensations, every caress, every kiss, every breath amplifying the connection that had been quietly growing between you. In that moment, with Bucky's hands anchoring you to him, you weren't just touching; you were speaking a language of longing, of mutual understanding and unspoken promises made in the quietude of hearts beating in unison.

A voice unexpectedly cut through the thick haze of the moment shared between you and Bucky. The abrupt sound of Sam’s voice, laced with surprise and a hint of disbelief, acted like a cold splash of reality.

“Someone care to explain what’s going on here?” he demanded, his tone piercing the bubble that had enveloped you and Bucky. The shock of being discovered, especially by your brother, sent a jolt through you, compelling you to break the kiss.

Oh, no.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes series #bucky x you #winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier

[hugh-lauries-bald-spot]

HOUSE SAYING "WHY CANT SHE LOVE THEM BOTH" ABOUT HIS FAVORITE CHARACTER WHILE DATING CUDDY AND BEING JEALOUS OF SAM + WILSON DATING AGAIN I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE

#house md #huddy #hilson #greg house #james wilson

[buckyysdoll]

— 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 —

જ⁀➴ 18+ MDNI — • summary: bucky smut hcs; cw: sexual themes such as p in v int., & oral sex (f!rec); pairing: fatws! bucky x fem!reader — read at ur own risk ! <3

MAIN MASTERLIST

• this man absolutely eats pussy for his own pleasure and would fully — gladly — eat you out for hours like a man starved

• there’s been times where he’s needing you to just sit on his face, but when you say “honey, what if i —” he fixes you with that look; says, “Doll, please just sit down.” And so you do — and it makes him feral.

• how you smell, the way you taste; the smooth, soft skin of your thighs against the abrasion of his stubble.

• headcanon that this man just has a ridiculously high sex drive. i mean, what do you expect from a super soldier who’s also touch deprived? he would gladly take you anytime, anyplace, anywhere — he just can’t get enough.

• if he could have his way he’d have you genuinely all day long, and will be aroused at the most inconvenient of times just thinking of you

• (like on missions, to poor sam wilson’s eternal disgust)

• but it’s not as if you’re complaining about your super soldier’s stamina; surely couldn’t when your legs are spread for him, his mouth, his cock.

• he worships the ground that you walk on but can also be rougher with it when you want.

• indeed, when you first got together he’d genuinely be shaking with restraint before sex; he didn’t want to scare you with just how badly he needed it — needed you, now.

• but when you urged him just to take it, to give you everything — that was it, then. there was just heat and sweat and scratch marks down his back; quick passionate, pounding sex.

• it’s mainly like this when he’s come home from a mission and you’ve been worried sick, but he’s home, god he’s home.

• or if one of you is jealous, and feeling possessive, or that much more protective? then it’s desperate and aching and so full of need that all you can see is the other

• besides, the life of an avenger isn’t exactly stress free anyway — so thank god you both have mutually enjoyable ways to work out a little tension ;)

• bucky loves hickeys, and will leave them literally everywhere he can on your body if you’ll let him. his favourite places, though, are your inner thighs, neck, and the top of your breasts.

• mostly, like if they’re on your neck or upper chest, he likes it best when he can see them during the day; when they’re not quite covered by your top, or any article of clothing that might typically have kept them hidden. that way, he just gets to feel so fucking proud of his girl, and the fact that only he gets to touch you like that. and the whole world knows <3

• he’s literally obsessed with your thighs, especially if they’re a little on the thicker side, too ;) like, this man will just absolutely worship every inch, will press kisses along the insides of them and then higher up, while you tremble beneath him.

• like — imagine bucky looking up at you from between your legs with those eyes, hands brushing up your thighs, and over your hips? 😵‍💫 good god, you don’t stand a chance

• i feel like he’s very vocal in bed, especially when it comes to praise — making sure you know how good you feel around him; how good you’re doing through it all.

• he also knows how it gets you when he groans so close to your ear, when he just lets out how good it feels — he knows how it gets you undone

• besides, once he’s inside you? he can often only repeat one word, grounding out “fuck” over and again with every thrust into your warmth. the most often times that this happens is once again when he just needs to be with you, times when he’s physically shaking with tension and the effort of not getting lost in your touch.

• especially when he’s just come back from a mission, and it’s been a long time? he can’t kiss you enough, can’t taste you enough and shit, he can’t hold it too long

• -> “fuck, that’s it. that’s it.”

• but again, most of the time — and when he feels more in control — he’ll be talking you through it. soft whispers of how well you take him, assurance, his voice soft and low in the dark. him telling you just what you do to him, how much he loves you. how fucking beautiful you are.

• calls you “doll” in bed, just like outside of it -> “cmon, come for me, doll.” 😵‍💫

• public sex, 100% — and often to the anguish of sam. you’ll go to his house for a dinner, and sneak off to the bathroom thinking so much that you’re subtle.

• but you’re really, really not.

• his favourite part of it all though is what comes after, where he just gets to hold you. you’re both sweaty and exhausted after multiple rounds, so you just lay together, limbs tangled up. you’re both on your back, you reach out to him and trace the curve of his cheek — he’d turned his head to look at you. he can’t ever stop looking at you.

• and your hands are joined as he pulls you closer into his chest, a leg between his as he runs a steady, soft hand through your hair. you would stay like that forever if you could, and god you want to

• you burn for each other, and it seems neither one of you can ever get your fill of him in you.

• it’s messy, your hands and teeth everywhere, hickeys being marked, legs/limbs tangled together

• it’s also sweet, tender, devoted sex — purely worshipping each other, adoring

• it’s making love with the love of your life — it’s you and bucky barnes against the world <3

#fanfic #s. smut ๋࣭ ⭑ #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x wife!reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky x female yn #bucky x reader #bucky x fem!reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x female!reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fandom #bucky barnes fanfiction

[thisphantomlife]

Songs Hozier has covered

Bowie - Changes, Young Americans (see also Trinity Orchestra section)

Prince - I Wanna Be Your Lover, Raspberry Beret, Jungle Love

James Carr - The Dark End Of The Street

The Beatles - Blackbird

John Lennon (Donny Hathaway version) - Jealous Guy (at the goldenplec block party with Zaska)

Ariana Grande - Problem

Warren G - Regulate (mashup with Problem)

James Blake - Retrograde

Tom Waits - Strange Weather

Florence and the Machine - Cosmic Love

Stevie Wonder - Living for the City, As

Sting - 7 Days

The BeeGees - To Love Somebody

Lauryn Hill - Doo Wop (that thing)

Amerie - One Thing

Skip James - Illinois Blues

Muddy Waters - Catfish Blues

Van Morrison - Caravan, Sweet Thing, Domino, Brown Eyed Girl, Saint Dominic’s Preview

Bill Withers - Ain’t No Sunshine

Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know

Demi Lovato - Sorry Not Sorry

Led Zeppelin - Whole Lotta Love

Fun - We Are Young

Paul Simon - Bridge Over Troubled Water

Sam Smith - Lay Me Down

Destiny’s Child - Say My Name

Britney Spears - Toxic (snippet)

The Band - The Weight

Otis Rush version of Willie Dixon and the Big Three Trio - My Love Will Never Die

The Talking Heads - Burning Down the House (Instagram live messing around with friends)

The Staple Singers - Let’s Do it Again

The Weather Forecast 🤪

Ed Lewis - I Be So Glad When the Sun Goes Down (Instagram snippet)

Mavis Staples - Eyes on the Prize

Jackie Wilson - (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher

The Meters - Just Kissed My Baby

Christmas Songs - God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, Winter Wonderland, Santa Claus is Coming to Town (with others at the Xmas Eve Ball 2015)

Traditional Irish songs - My Lagan Love, The Humours of Whiskey, I Am Stretched On Your Grave, The Rolling Wave (on the low whistle), The Parting Glass, The Lonely Jig (on the low whistle)

(Live) Collabs - that are not Andrew’s own songs

Alvin Youngblood Hart - Illinois Blues

Maren Morris - The Bones, My Church, Girl, The Tree

Annie Lennox - I Put a Spell on You (Screamin Jay Hawkins cover)

Tom Odell - Another Love

Noah Kahan - Northern Attitude

Allison Russell - Requiem, Stop Dragging My Heart Around (Stevie Nicks & Tom Petty cover)

Brandi Carlile - The Joke, Walk On (U2 cover), The Weight (The Band cover)

Jamala - Walk On (U2 cover)

Mavis Staples - The Weight (The Band cover), Keep Your Eyes on the Prize (with Our Native Daughters, Jason Isbell and Phil Cook)

Boygenius - Salt in the Wound

Alana Henderson - Ae Fond Kiss (poem by Robert Burns)

U2 - When Love Comes to Town

Tori Kelly - Blackbird (the Beatles cover)

Mumford and Sons - Guiding Light, Awake My Soul, With a Little Help From My Friends (Beatles cover, with other artists)

Lake Street Dive - Everyday People (Sly and the Family Stone cover)

Rachael Price - Rental Love

Victoria Canal - Swan Song

Elwood (his dog) - Don’t Go Breaking My Heart (Elton John and Kiki Dee cover, Insta snippet)

All the artists at Love Rocks NYC 2022 - Like A Rolling Stone (Bob Dylan cover), Feeling Alright (Traffic cover)

Brian Kennedy (and others) - I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free (Nina Simone cover)

His Dad - The Weight (The Band cover at MSG)

Zaska, Wyvern Lingo, Loah - Sir Duke (Stevie Wonder cover)

Eabha McMahon - Bright Blue Rose (Jimmy McCarthy cover)

Christmas Eve Busk 2015

Bono, Glen Hansard - When Love Comes to Town, Every Breaking Wave

Glen Hansard, Imelda May - The Dark End of the Street (James Carr cover)

Christmas Eve Busk 2017

Glen Hansard, Coronas, Imelda May, Liam O Maonlaoi - So This is Christmas (John Lennon cover), The Aul Triangle

Music Groups

Nova Collective - (original songs) Tuile, Closer, Quick Bossa

Zaska - (original songs) In Your Own Sweet Time, Different Light, She Gunk Gunk Dunk A Funk, Oh Yeah

Anuna - with Andrew on lead vocals: The Raid, La Chanson de Mardi Gras. With Andrew in the choir: Jingle Bells, An Uaithne

The Wiggles - Cherry Tree Carol with Anuna

Trinity Orchestra - songs covered with Andrew on lead vocals

~ Queen - Somebody To Love, Don’t Stop Me Now

~ Arcade Fire - My Body is a Cage

~ Pink Floyd - Time, Breathe, Comfortably Numb, Shine on You Crazy Diamond, Money

~ Michael Jackson - Earth Song, Black or White, Smooth Criminal

~ David Bowie - Heroes

*This list may not be complete. It only contains songs that can be found online.

Please let me know if any songs are missing so I can add them 🫶

I’ve not included the songs he sang snippets of on that Song Association interview

#hozier #hozier covers #hozier collabs #list of songs Hozier has covered

[raspberryneuron]

The parallels in S6EP18........

During Wilson's renewed relationship with his ex-wife, Sam, there's an episode about an open marriage. The patient occasionally introduces lovers into her life while still maintaining a family, but her husband isn't so eager about the concept, and his wife remains unaware of his discontent.

Similarly, we have Wilson, who starts dating his ex-wife, Sam, while living with House. We've all seen how protective (and maybe a bit jealous) House can be of Wilson.

We've got two 'families' here, the first one being the patient, her husband, and her lover; the second is Wilson, House, and Sam.

In one scene, the patient's lover enters her hospital room, and her husband makes it clear that the lover is unwelcome, practically kicking him out – family comes first.

Around the same time, there's a scene where Wilson argues with Sam, letting his "bad boy" side out and setting boundaries, which is a rare sight for Wilson.

Similar to the patient's husband pushing the lover out of their lives for the sake of family, Wilson also pushes his 'girlfriend' (or whatever she was) out of their his life.

Both families are now intact again 🙂🙃🙂

#dr house #house md #greg house #hilson #james wilson #hate crimes md

[angelltheninth]

SFW Masterlist Part 4

DC COMICS

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader - Shelter in the Rain

Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader - On the Dance Floor Our Hearts Beat as One

DC Characters + Tie on the Door

Clark Kent Saves You When You Get Kidnapped

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader - Keep a Cool Head on Your Shoulders

DC Characters Flirting with You

Jason, Dick, Wally and Clark Laying Their Head on Your Lap

Kissing Kara Danvers During an Argument

MCU

Sam Wilson with an S/O who Has Wings Like Him

Cuddling with Bucky Barnes

King Valkyrie x Fem!Reader - A Touch Too Gentle

MCU Characters + Love Hotel

Eddie and Venom with a Affectionate Partner

MCU Character Protective Levels

ARCANE

Arcane Women with a Touch Starved Reader

Secret Relationship with Cassandra Kiramman

Arcane Women as Lovers

Taking Care of Jinx

Caitlyn x Fem!Reader - If Looks Could Kill

Night Routine with Vander

Reunion with Vander

Vi x Fem!Reader - And They Were Cellmates

CRITICAL ROLE

Vax'ildan x Reader - Meeting of Fates

Percy de Rolo x Fem!Reader - Overwhelmingly Yes

Things Percy Does That Make You Swoon

Vax Playing Hard to Get

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

Class 1-A Boys Being Protective of You

Helping an Injured and Flirty Keigo Takami/Hawks

Polyamory and Kissing with Bakugo and Izuku

BNHA Boys Being Kabedon'd

Polyamory with Izuku and Bakugo when You're Jealous

BNHA Boys Kabedoning You

Izuku, Bakugo, Shoto and Kirishima + Fanfic Tropes

TWISTED WONDERLAND

Twisted Wonderland Dorm Leaders with a Protective S/O

Twisted Wonderland Men + True Loves Kiss

Twisted Wonderland Men Teasing You

Riddle Rosehearts x Fem!Reader - Riddle Me Your Heart

Savanahclaw Men when You Sneak Into Their Room

Idia Shroud x Fem!Reader - Burning Blue Hot

Twisted Wonderland Men + Pick Up Lines

Secret Relationship with TWST Dorm Men

Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader - The Lion King's Fangs

AVATAR

Rivals to Lovers with Lo'ak

Neteyam Being Protective of You

Lo'ak with a Human S/O

Netheyam and Lo'ak Having Their Neck Kissed

Aonung x Fem!Reader - Stars in the Ocean

Neteyam and Lo'ak with an S/O who Gets an Avatar

Neteyam and Lo'ak when You're Curious About Their Fangs and Tails

Jealous Neteyam and Lo'ak

Patching Up Injured Neteyam and Lo'ak

Aonung with a Curious S/O

Cuddling with Neteyam and Lo'ak

Neteyam x Fem!Reader - Little Soldier Boy

Domestic Headcanons with Aonung

Neteyam and Lo'ak with a Human Girlfriend who Wants to Kiss Them on the Lips

Love Triangle with Neteyam and Aonung

Teasing and Flirting with Avatar Men but They Get Handsy

Neteyam Meets Your Parents

Tsundere Tsu'Tey Being Teased

GENSHIN IMPACT

Genshin Men Caught Under the Mistletoe

Scaramouche Asserting Dominance

Genshin Men when They're Flustered

Jealous Al-Haitham Headcanons

Spending New Years Eve with Genshin Men

Genshin Men Being Sick

Genshin Men Carrying You Around

Childe x Fem!Reader - Warmth of His Smile

Kaeya, Diluc, Childe and Zhongli Getting Hugged

VALORANT

Yoru, Phoenix, Sova and Chamber when You Wear Their Clothes

Valorant Agents + Mission Injuries

Valorant Agents Cuddling with You

Yoru, Phoenix, Sova and Chamber Giving Hickies

Valorant Ladies when You Faint

Yoru, Phoenix, Jett and Harbor React to Your Angsty Confession

Viper Wanting Cuddles

CALL OF DUTY

Ghost and Alejandro when They're Away for a Long Time

Task Force 141, Alejandro and Rudy when You Dress Sexy for Bed

Task Force 141 Being Homesick

Call of Duty Proposal Headcanons

Mutual Bodyworship with Simon Riley

BLUE LOCK

Itoshi Sae Marks You as His

Kunigami Rensuke Being a Clingy Sleeper

Boyfriend Bachira Headcanons

Bachira Reacting to Your Confession

Playing the Pocky Game with Itoshi Sae

Blue Lock Team Reacting to You Wearing Their Jersey

Blue Lock Team when You Get Wet From the Rain

Morning After with Team Blue Lock

Kunigami Rensuke as a Superhero

Blue Lock Men as Dads

STAR WARS

Anakin x Reader - Shut Me Up with Your Lips on Mine

The Bad Batch Being Protective

Touch Starved Din Djarin Headcanons

Din Djarin Melting when You Kiss His Hands

Gift Giving with Cassian Andor

A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE

Harwin Strong x Fem!Reader - Your Handsome Rescuer

Daemon, Harwin and Aemond Being Clingy

Daemon Not Being a Morning Person

Possessive Daemon Pins You in the Hallway

#wednesday x reader #bnha x reader #twst x reader #avatar x reader #genshin impact x reader #blue lock x reader #hotd x reader #got x reader #mcu x reader #dc x reader #valorant x reader #star wars x reader #cod x reader #critrole x reader #arcane x reader

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

summary: coney island. break my soul in two looking for you but you're right here. if I can't relate to you anymore then who am I related to?

Sergeant Barnes had taken her advice, something which the other staff who usually came to upkeep the home did not believe. He didn’t take suggestions, at least he hadn’t since he was a child. He was one of those people who’d rather fail on his own accord rather than succeed on someone else’s. He’d just rather be stubborn yet an au pair had had him listening on how to parent his daughter. This had become much more evident when he’d called her somewhere around midday, asking if se could bring Sadie over to the office so he could spend some time with her. She’d never really gone to his office before, she’d never even questioned where it was. Usually a quickly handwritten note stuck to the fridge with a magnet with a just barely understood address. She didn’t know why she had thought he’d have a modest office - nothing about James Buchanan Barnes was modest, and as she stood in front of the glass building that seemed to thrust into the skies forever. In that moment she was afraid she didn’t know who was more in awe of it - her or Sadie who was tightly gripping her hand. 

Everything was ... polished, clean, almost crystalline. If she were to be honest, the building from the inside looking like a private high-end hospital or maybe a really white and sleek restaurant. It was intimidating, it matched the owner and it almost seemed out of place for an au pair dressed in Zara clothing and a toddler in beige clothing carrying a very bright Bluey backpack. 

      - Hi. - she smiled at the receptionist. - I’m Y/N, I’m Sergeant Barnes au pair. He asked me to bring his daughter to his office. 

      - I’ll let him know. 

Y/N looked down at Sadie, slightly shaking her arm to try and calm the little girl down. She didn’t look comfortable, staring at everyone who came in and out with fright. It wasn’t unexpected, she didn’t particularly enjoy strangers and this building was a whole building of strangers.

     - Hey, look who it is! - Y/N turned towards the direction of the sound to see Sam. 

Sam was one of Bucky’s only trusted people, the other owner of the company and honestly the reason why Y/N knew even the slightest of things about Bucky. He’d usually come by the house to play with Sadie when he could, having named himself as the young girl’s godfather despite Bucky’s objections. 

     - That’s the coolest Bluey backpack, Sisi. - he gave her a little twirl. - I’m so jealous. You have to lend it to me sometime. 

     - Y/N got it. - she smiled, proudly taking her backpack off to show it to her godfather. - There is Bluey and Bingo. 

      - Y/N never gets me presents. - Sam joked. - How are you? I heard from the grapevine that you gave Barnes a good old earful. Is he paying you for babysitting him as well? 

      - Maybe he values my opinion. - she teased as Sam placed a hand over his heart feigning hurt. - He’ll tell you off if he sees you hanging around instead of doing whatever it is you two do. 

     - I don’t know, Y/L/N. If babysitting ever goes south, perhaps you oughta join us. Would do well with someone who can get Barnes to change his mind. 

      - Sergeant Barnes is waiting. - the receptionist returned. - He also said he’ll be expecting a meeting with you soon, Mr. Wilson. 

     - Tell him he can keep waiting. - he waved the warning off before squatting down to Sadie’s level. - You go and hang out with dad. Tell me all about it later, Sisi. 

     - Bye, uncle Sam. - she waved with a grin before turning back to Y/N, extending her hand towards her again. 

The two of them followed the receptionist through clear halls decorated with elegant art, tall white and grey pottery as well as several plants which looked as fresh as any seen in nature. Soon, two large black doors came in view in a scene that reminded her somewhat of the entry to Jurassic Park. Perhaps because both housed two beings with terrible tempers. Sadie held onto Y/N’s leg as the receptionist left the two to grasp with who was going to open the door. 

     - Wanna go. - she buried her head in the fabric of Y/N’s trousers. - Please.

     - Sadie ... - Y/N leaned down to pick her up. - Daddy really wants to hang out with you. 

The little girl buried her face in her neck, mumbling about being scared. She couldn’t really blame her, the building was intimidating and even though her father sat on the other side of that door, all the 2 year old could see was a big door in a frightening building. 

     - We’re going in together. You can hold on to me, it’ll be ok. 

     - Promise?

     - Promise. - she smiled down at her before her hand reached to open the door. 

The office was without personality, much different to how Bucky had decorated his house. The office was just as clean as the rest of the building, decorated like any other office in a decoration magazine. Whilst his house was sophisticated, there were dots of personality everywhere from Sadie’s drawings on the fridge, to Bucky’s postcard collection in frames everywhere you’d looked. She wondered for a second, for a millisecond, if he even spent time here and if he did how much time did he spend. It looked too pristine but Sadie didn’t care, her face lighting up as she saw her dad. 

     - Look who it is. - she pointed at Bucky as Sadie jumped onto the floor to run over to her dad. 

     - Daddy, look, Bluey. - she pointed to her backpack. - Y/N gave it to me.

(...)

It was official. Y/N had no clue what to do with her free time. She had done her revision, looked at all her notes, even spent half the afternoon looking through her thesis only to find herself bored. She missed Sadie asking about her thesis, heck, she even missed the sound of the obnoxious children’s cartoons. Therefore, it was not upsetting when she got a message from Bucky, an hour earlier than expected. She walked back into that building with an unshaken confidence, climbing the stairs up to the office. 

     - FAIR! - Sadie rushed from the office to hug her leg. - Daddy is taking us. 

     - It’s Coney Island. If you’re not busy. - Bucky added as he came not far behind his daughter, keeping a trained eye on her so she wouldn’t wander far. - Sadie said she wanted you to come. 

     - What happened to your hair, baby? - she lowered to the 2 year old’s height, finding her hair on a half arranged scrunchie to the right of her head. 

     - It’s fine. - Bucky said nervously. - You like it, don’t you, Sisi? 

     - No. - she pouted. 

     - It’s alright, baby. - Y/N carefully pulled the scrunchie down. - It looks better down anyway. 

    - Thanks. - Bucky mumbled. - I’m not good with hair ... at least Sadie’s hair. 

It was an odd feeling. An odd feeling as he found himself completely at odds with how to look after his child while she just did it so effortlessly. She seemed to know better, better than him and she was a complete outsider. She wasn’t her mother, she wasn’t family yet Sadie followed her like a baby duck, happily telling her what she did. No tantrums, no anything. All she did was extend her little hand towards Y/N and Bucky couldn’t help the little green monster yearning to come out of him. He’d never really questioned what he was sacrificing, he thought it was ok. That’s what father’s did, right? That’s what his father had done and he always seemed to so tuned to his children’s needs. Yet, here he was, not knowing what to do about his own daughter.

He just starred at the spectacle of the fair, the sounds of children and their parents muzzled by his own thoughts. He just wondered, perhaps with some sort of obsession, if this, if who he was, was enough for Sadie. Was he a father or just the man who gave her a home? 

     - Sergeant Barnes? - her voice broke him from a daze he didn’t realise he’d been stuck in from his office all the way to the fair. - Sergeant Barnes, are you alright? 

     - Sorry. - he blinked harshly. - I was distracted. 

     - I gathered that much. - she looked at him from the corner of her eye. - Work? 

     - In a way. - he shrugged. - You’re good with Sadie. 

     - It’s part of my job. - she smiled at him. - You should fire me if I’m not good with Sadie. 

     - Not what I meant. - he continued looking at the aquarium exposition they’d set which was breath taking for little Sadie. - She really likes you. You can do her hair and she asks for you all the time. 

      - Sergeant Barnes, I ...

      - When she’s with me ... - he took a deep breathe, the words getting stuck in the middle of his throat. - When she’s with me she asks for you. 

      - She asks for you as well. - she tried to comfort him. - She’s 2. I wouldn’t dwell on it. 

      - You’re like Mary fucking Poppins. 

      - Or maybe I just give her spoonfuls of sugar. - she joked. - You’re a good dad, Sergeant Barnes. A grumpy one but a good one. 

      - I thought we were done with Sergeant Barnes.

     - Well, I am not done with being called sir. - she looked down at Sadie, pulling her away from the aquarium before she attempted to break the glass. - Why don’t we go on the merry go round? 

      - Fishies! - she pointed back at the fishes. 

      - It’s ok, Sisi. We can get you a gold fish after. 

How they had ended up here, Bucky wasn’t sure. All he knew is that Y/N was holding Sadie’s against her chest, the little girl having dozed off after going on every single ride and tent she could find, while Bucky had his handfuls with big stuffed teddies, two goldfishes (because of course Sadie wanted a fish to keep the other fish company), and a half eaten cotton candy which Sadie had said she would finish home.

      - You sure you don’t need help? - she asked, moving Sadie so she was more comfortably laying against her chest. - I can carry one of the stuffies. 

      - It’s okay. I may have gone overboard with the stuffies. 

      - At least you have a few new fans. - she teased, remembering how some of the mums had fawned as Bucky had easily won any and every fair game to win the biggest teddy available. - I’m sure you’ve increased your popularity. 

      - Did you have fun? - he attempted to change the subject. He knew his effect on women and he did not like to discuss it. Last thing he needed was a relationship to disrupt Sadie’s life. He was no stranger to a one night stand or even to having a few friends with benefits but that’s where it ended. For all Sadie, and even Y/N, were concerned he was a celibate, single man. It was for the best. 

      - As much fun as you can have when you ride the merry-go-round 10 times. 

     - C’mon, you need to have fun. What do you want to do? 

     - It’s okay, Sergeant Barnes. We need to get Sadie home and ...

     - Bucky. - he interrupted her. - It’s Bucky and I asked you what you want to do. Trust me, Sadie’s not waking up any time soon. I want you to have fun as well. 

     - Fine. I want to shoot some cans. 

     - You want to shoot some cans? - he chuckled. - Alright. We can find something like that. 

It wasn’t hard to find something like that. He just found it odd she wanted to do that. Perhaps it was the first thing that came through her mind when he asked her to do something she liked or maybe she had some pent up aggression within her. Whatever it was, Bucky was curious. He didn’t know much about her outside of what needed to be known. He knew she was working on her post graduate qualifications, doing a PhD, but he wasn’t sure on what. She didn’t share much. 

     - Here, let me hold her. - he shifted the things on his arms, finding space to hold his daughter against his hip. Y/N shrugged, handing him Sadie as if she would’ve easily shot the cans while holding the two year old. - Maybe you should ...

     - I got it. - she grabbed the prop weapon, gathering her aim before shooting 5 cans down in a row. 

     - Do you ... do you shoot often? - he looked at her with a mix of confusion and amazement. 

     - Not really. - she said, not taking her eyes off the other 5 cans which she easily knocked down before turning to the guy manning the booth. - Can I get the blue dog plush, please?

     - You’re a good shot. 

     - Is that a compliment, Sergeant Barnes? 

     - I’m a better shot but you’re not bad. - he added. - Come on. We have somewhere else to go. 

     - Are you gonna show me how much of a better shot you are?

     - Don’t need to. Have medals to prove it, Y/N. Besides, I have my daughter here. 

     - Uh ... I think you’re just scared of losing. 

     - Is that so?

     - Yes.

     - Ok. There’s a shooting range about half an hour from my office, I’ll happily show you my skills there. 

     - Can’t perform without your familiar tools? - she crossed her arms. 

     - Oh doll. - he smirked. - I can perform with any tool you choose. 

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky/you #bucky x you #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

I got all these issues. Will you be my prescription?

Bucky Barnes x POC!Reader

Wordcount: 4462

Summary:

A fight about your safety ensues when pictures of the two of you together get leaked by a fellow agent and former one night stand. He's livid that your relationship is exposed to the world and now could be used against him. You could care less who knows about your relationship. You've been together over a year, you knew what dating the former Winter Soldier brought with it. No, you're pissed that some bitch, who doesn't even count as an ex, is trying to ruin the best thing to happen to you.

Warnings:

Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Feels, Some Humor, Protective Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Song Lyrics, Inspired by Music, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, P In V Sex

Notes:

Hello Heathens! This oneshot came out of nowhere one evening when I was listening to music on my phone while working on another fic. A cover of the song "Issues" (originally performed by Julia Michaels) came on and my mind was flooded with this idea and story that I need to flesh out. I have no control of my muse. I just write the stories she tells me to. HAPPY READING! Lyrics for the song Issues by Cameron Bedell will be in bold. ( Here's a link for you to check out the song ) Thoughts in italic.

Banner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

You're trying to get him to understand that the real problem is the agent and not the exposure. Yes you now have to be more careful when you're somewhere without him. But it's not much different than what you were already doing.

"If she leaked us being together what makes you think she wouldn't leak other more sensitive information. Hell, she already could have!" You argue, trying to get him to see the whole picture.

"I don't give a fuck about some jealous drunken hook up who still feels jaded. I never wanted you in danger. That's why it was so important to keep us hidden." He snaps back.

Your emotions finally get the best of you. "I never WANTED to be hidden James! I went along with it because it was something you needed that made you feel secure. One less reason I might leave." 

You shake your head as the tears begin to well in your eyes. "We're over a year in. I thought we'd be out to more than just people with enough clearance to be made aware. Makes me feel like your dirty little secret. I don't want to be that forever."

"Keeping your attachment to me hidden keeps you safe. What about that dont you understand?" He's so lost in his fear that he can't see things clearly.

"No. It leaves me vulnerable and easier to take with no one noticing because they're unaware of my relationship to the deadliest man I know." You calmly state. That seems to get his attention. "How can anyone fear the repercussions of even trying to get close to me like that without knowing who to be afraid of?" 

He just stands there. Tension radiating off his body. 

You let out an exasperated sigh and start walking to your door. "I think you need to go Bucky. I can't do this with you right now. You're so lost in your anger and fear that you're not thinking clearly. And I'm just plain pissed off. I don't want either of us to say something we regret later."

A look of shock crosses his face. "Doll, you can't be serious? We just got exposed. You're not safe."

"No one knows where I live, yet."

"Key word, yet."

"James." You reach for the knob. "Please just give me some time alone. I know where to find you when I'm ready. We both need to think about things from all angles."

He walks up to you and pins you to the door with a soul crushing kiss. Putting all of his fear and love into that one small gesture. He pulls away and allows you to open the door. Just as he crosses the threshold he turns his head your way. "This is far from over, doll. Don't keep me waiting too long."

You spend the next couple of days working through your thoughts with your guitar. Letting the music take you where you need to be. Mending the frayed edges and soothing the aches.

Through your musical therapy a song develops. Something that you think might help ease things between the two of you. Because, let's face it, you miss your man something fierce.

Every imperfect piece of him. Responding to his texts just to let him know you’re safe and alive, just isn't going to cut it anymore. Someone has to yield first, and it looks like this time around, it’s going to have to be you.

Mind made up on what you are going to do, you decide to give Steve a call.

It rings three times before he picks up. “Rogers.”

“Hey Stevie. How’s he holding up?” You waste no time asking what you so desperately want to know.

“Hey, Dollface.” He sighs. “‘Fraid to say, he’s not doing too great. Seems his already short fuse has shortened significantly. Had to take him off the training roster for the recruits because too many couldn't keep up with his demands or got injured.”

“Shit.” You shake your head even though you know he can't see it. “I was hoping he had calmed down some by now. I’m sorry Steve. I didn’t think he'd still be affected this much.”

“It’s not your fault. You know how overprotective he is in general. Add a threat, from the inside at that, and he goes nuclear.” He excuses.

“Well, I think I may have a solution to our problems.” You admit. “If not at least a band-aid for the time being. I’m going to need you and Sam’s help though. If you're willing of course.”

“I’m all ears. Want me to grab Sam so you don't have to explain it twice?”

“That would be great actually. I’d appreciate not having to spend more energy than I need too.”

“Alright. Hang on a sec.” You hear shuffling, followed by a door opening. Then the tell tale sound of a knock and a muffled voice before a door opens once more. “Hey Sam. Mind if I come in? I’ve got Buck’s best girl on the phone and she has something she wants to go over with us.”

“No problem man. Come on in.” Sam replies.

Once safely behind Sam’s door he places the phone on speaker. “Okay, doll. Tell us your plan.”

“It’s pretty simple really. I’ve used my time alone to reflect and process things the best way I know how. With my guitar.” You lightly chuckle. “Anyway. Long story short, I wrote something for James and I want to surprise him by performing it in front of you all.”

“All of us?” Sam asks.

“Well, just the Avengers. A small little private concert type of thing. Though I'll only be singing the one song halfway through. My friend has a great band that I think you all would love. If you can get Tony to hire them for the night to do a private show for you guys, I can sneak my performance in.”

“So Bucky will know about the private show but not that you're a part of it?” Steve questions for clarification.

“Yup.” You pop the ‘P’ for emphasis. “Think you can sway Tony to make this happen?”

“Seeing as how this should improve Bucky’s temperament and save us doing extra recruit rotations and paperwork. I don't see Tony being a problem. Text us when you know if your friend's band can do it and we’ll take it from there.” You can hear the relief in Steve’s voice over your plan.

“Thank you guys. I owe you big time.” You declare.

“Just help us get the normal grumpy old man back. That’s all we ask.” Sam imparts.

“That’s the plan.”

Tonight’s the night. You rub your hands anxiously against your thighs as the town car Tony sent for you cruises leisurely down the long Compound driveway. You surpass the front roundabout and make your way around to the back, near the private entrance and garage the Avengers use.

You text your friend Marco, the lead singer of Bow & Dagger, that you’ve arrived and to send someone out to get you. Of course your ex Chase, the bassist, is the one to greet you. He leans his body against the door frame, a smirk plastered across his face, as he scans your body from the bottom up. “Looking good Firefly.”

You roll your eyes at the use of your old nickname. “Still using that outdated moniker Chase?” 

He quirks a brow at you. “You’ll always be my firefly. Maybe even more so now that you’ve gotten away. I’ll forever be chasing your light.”

You can't help but laugh at him. “Does that lyrical prose still work on the female population nowadays?”

“I’ve had no complaints.” He shrugs. “It used to work on you just fine if I remember correctly. Hell you used to toss it right back at me.”

“The blessed naivety of youth. Thank the Goddess that I grew up and my priorities shifted. I’m a more well rounded individual now. Less in search of useless validation.”

“Ouch.” He clutches his chest. “Still got those talons, I see.”

“Never leave home with them.” You wink at him. “You gonna let me in so you can make that paycheck I’m sure is well above your normal fee, or stand there all night?”

“Get in here smartass before Marco lays in to me for wasting time.” He moves aside.

You walk into the pseudo green room and are immediately smothered in a bear hug. “Hiya Stu. I’m happy to see you too.” You say into his barreled chest. “Mind letting up a bit. I kinda need to feel my fingers in order to play.”

He quickly lets go, only to place his hands on your shoulders and stare at you with a dopey smile across his face. “I’m sorry girlie. I’m just so happy to see ya. It’s been too long.”

“It has. I’m sorry ‘bout that.” You wince. “Life kind of got away from me. You know how it goes.”

“I’d say all is forgiven, seeing as you booked us this sweet gig.” Marco butts in, scooping you up in a hug himself. 

“Fuck yeah! I finally get to shoot my shot with the Black Widow.” Stu exclaims.

“It’s the least I could do. You guys have no idea how much you're helping me out here.”  You walk over to the couch and place your travel case down.

“What exactly are we helping you with anyway?” Chase inquires.

“Some Rom-Com grand gesture type shit” You smugly state.

“No shit?” Stu asks.

“I speak only the truth.” 

“You gonna tell us who the unlucky schmuck is?” Chase snipes.

“With that attitude, you’re just going to have to wait and see.” You give him a smile to rival the Cheshire Cat’s. “The look on your face is going to be fucking priceless. I can’t wait.”

Before he can respond with some dickish comment, there’s a knock on the door, followed quickly by Tony and Steve entering the room.

Steve makes his way over to you. “Hey Dollface. You ready to get this show on the road?”

“I’m all set if these knuckleheads are ready to head on out there.” You turn towards the boys. “Have you guys met your benefactor for tonight's little private concert?”

“Negatory little lady.” Stu speaks up first, walking over to Tony. “Howdy Mr. Stark. The name’s Stu. Bow and Dagger’s drummer and loveable goofball. That’s Chase. Bassist and resident fuckboy. And the merose looking fucker over there is Marco our lead guitar and vocals.”

“That suits you.” Tony imparts. “You certainly give off drummer vibes. Lots of energy. Any questions on how this is gonna work?” 

“I wouldn't mind a breakdown.” You pipe up.

"Here's how it's going to go." Steve grabs everyone's attention with his Captain voice. "We're going to gather the team in the common room where Sam and I set up a stage earlier. Tony is going to introduce the band. You'll play 3 songs and announce your taking a 5 min smoke break. That's when Dollface here is going to make her way on stage and do her thing." 

He smiles over at you. "Hopefully if all goes well you guys will finish your set and then you're welcome to stay for dinner and hang out."

"Solid plan golden boy. You come up with that all on your own." You joke.

"Always with the smart quips. I'll remember that. Now let's get moving before the team gets restless and wanders off."

So far the evening was flowing seamlessly. As Bow & Dagger played the last notes on your third song, your nerves decided to make themselves known. You watched them announce their break and leave the stage. 

Before you could sabotage yourself, you made your way onto the tiny stage and turned to the group of mostly stunned superheroes. “Hey guys. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting. I have some things I need to get off my chest and thought I might provide some intermission entertainment in the process.”

You roam the space for Bucky and lock eyes with his Steel blues, seated on the sofa next to Steve. Taking a deep breath, your fingers begin to strum the opening chords, the team looking on in curiosity over what may come out of your mouth.

Sustaining eye contact you let the lyrics flow out of you as if there is no one else in the room.  

Mmm mm mm I'm jealous I'm overzealous When I'm down I get real down When I'm high, I don't come down I get angry Baby, believe me I could love you just like that And I could leave you just this fast

You take in his demeanor, stock still but engaged nonetheless.  

But you don't Judge me 'Cause if you did, baby I would judge you too No, you don't judge me 'Cause if you did, baby I would judge you too

The only thought in your head is Here goes nothing, as you put your whole heart into the chorus.

'Cause I got issues But you got 'em too So give 'em all to me And I'll give mine to you Bask in the glory Of all our problems 'Cause we got the kind of love It takes to solve 'em Yeah, I got issues And one of them is how bad I need you

You breathe a little easier when you notice him start to soften. Just absorbing the piece of your soul you're sharing with everyone. 

You do shit on purpose You get mad and you break things Feel bad, try to fix things But you're perfect Poorly wired circuit And got hands like an ocean Push you out Pull you back in

A subtle smile crosses his face at the truth in your words. The picture of him that many do not get to see. You really get into it as you run through the bridge and chorus one more time. Now it’s time to bring it home and woo your man.

Ooohhh, Need you OOOOOOH AHHHH I got issues You got 'em too So give 'em all to me And I'll give mine to you Bask in the glory Of all our problems 'Cause we got the kind of love It takes to solve 'em Yeah, I got issues And one of them is how bad I need you Ooh hoo hoo I got issues  One of them is how bad I need yoou Issues And one of them is how bad I need you

You could hear a pin drop in the room as Bucky rises from his seat and makes his way over to the stage. You swallow and try to get your breathing under control as you have no idea what is going to happen. 

Before you know it, he’s standing in front of you, broad chest heaving. He brings his hands up and cups your face before pulling you into an earth shattering kiss.

You forget that you have an audience until the sound of their cheers and clapping reaches your ears. You think you not only hear but see the muted flash of a camera through your closed lids.

You come up for air to see Bucky with the most lovesick expression on his face. “You did all that for me?” 

You nod your head. “Figured it was the best way to get you to listen and understand.”

“Fuck I love you.”

“Love you too James.”

Sam rushes over to the stage. “Man, I live streamed the whole thing. The people are going crazy over ya’ll.”

“You did what?!” You both blurt out.

“I streamed it. The world already knows about you. Might as well milk it. No need to thank me, damn.”

Bucky moves to jump off the stage and rush Sam. You barely catch him in time. “Hey. Don't let him get to you okay. You know how much he loves to rile you up.”

“Sorry, doll. He’s just such a douchebag sometimes. We were having a moment.” He apologizes, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“It’s fine.” You nip at the flesh as it passes over once more. “What I really want to know is if performing the song in front of everyone was okay? I just wanted you to hear me out and understand my side of things. I didn't want to embarrass you or anything.”

“Doll. Stop rambling.” You shut your mouth. “I loved it. Honestly I liked that they got to see how much you feel for me.”

You beam up at him. “Good.”

“Now I have some displays of affection I need to show you myself. Come on babygirl.” He pulls you off stage and heads towards the hallway that connects with his, Steve and Sam’s wing of the compound.

You’re pulled inside Bucky’s room, tripping over your sneakers as he hurriedly maneuvers you through his space. “James, slow down. I’m gonna eat shit if you keep it up.”

He stops in front of the bed, turning toward you. “Shut up.” He grabs your waist and tosses you down on to the mattress, climbing on and caging you in with his massive frame. “You’ve used that mouth enough tonight. Now it’s my turn.” 

With no time to catch your breath, he renders you incapable of responding by capturing your lips with his own. Kissing life back into your body, as your tongues dance a tango only you know. 

He takes his time as his hands roam your curves. Sneaking his cool metal digits under your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He begins to remove your shirt, placing his flesh hand  underneath your lower back as he slowly lifts your torso to pull your shirt over your head. You raise your arms in aid, grazing your fingertips across the stubble along his jaw when he tosses your shirt aside.

He trails his hands down your flesh until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. With a quick snap of his vibranium fingers your button is undone, your zipper quickly following suit. He starts to slide the denim down, tapping your hip to get you to raise them so that he can remove them entirely.

Leaning back on his haunches, he grabs the back of his shirt with his flesh hand and pulls it off. His lust blown blue eyes focused on you draped over his bed sheets.  “So fucking beautiful.” He runs his hands up your legs, gripping the waistband of your panties when he reaches your hips and takes his time removing them from your body. 

“Take your bra off for me, babygirl.” You lean up on your elbows, reach behind your back and unclasp the garment, letting it fall away from you body. 

Leaning forward, he ghosts kisses along all of your exposed skin. Mapping out a trail of pleasure and gooseflesh. Teasing first one and then the other nipple with his tongue, ending each with a deep suction. 

The slow paced teasing continues, driving your need for him higher. He stops his trek at your mound, hot breath blowing puffs of air on the cooling slick leaking from your folds. “So beautiful and all mine.” He runs a cool metal finger along your drenched lips. He ensnares you in his gaze. “That’s right, isn't it, babygir? This pretty little pussy is mine to do with as I please?”

“Yes. All of this is yours.” You pant out. Delirious for him to do something more than tease.

“Damn right it is.” He runs a stripe from taint to clit with his skillful tongue. Circling your sensitive little bundle nerves, pulling a moan out of your throat. Having had enough of taking his time slowly torturing you he thrusts his tongue inside your aching center. The thick muscle massaging your silken walls, giving them something to finally clamp on to. 

“Mmm. James. Fuck. Your tongue feels so good baby.” Your hands anchor themselves in his hair, just enjoying the ride. But that’s not enough for him. He wants you desperate and begging before he gives in and makes you come apart on his cock.

He pulls his tongue out, swirling it along your folds, seeking out every drop of your essence. Moving the appendage upward to lightly circle figure eight patterns on your clit, bringing you right to the edge. So close to falling over that cliff into utter bliss before he pulls away.

“No! Why’d you stop? I was so close.” You sit up, reaching out for his face, wanting to drag him back to your pulsing center.

He scoots back off the bed. “The first time you come after sending me away and keeping your distance, is going to be while my cock is deep inside you.” He unbuckles his belt, drawing your eyes down to his hands working on divesting himself of the last of his garments.

You're hypnotized by his movements. Mouth watering as you wait for his thickness to spring free from its confines. Time seems to stand still as his pants drop to the floor. “You went commando.” You whisper out, licking your suddenly dry lips.  

“Wonderful coincidence. I wasn't expecting to see you tonight and Steve came pounding on my door right as I got out the shower to tell me I had to come be a part of the festivities. I just threw on the closest clothes.” He shrugged, wrapping his metal fist around his length, giving himself a few pumps as he drank you in with a predatory gaze.

“Lay back down, babygirl.” He husks out. The command sends a fresh wave of slickness to your core, anticipating what’s to come, as you slowly lie back.

“Spread those luscious thighs for me, doll. Present me with my perfect little pussy.” He grunts out as he continues to stroke himself, a bead of precome precariously close to dropping from the tip as he places a knee down on the bed.

You open your legs wide enough to show off your glistening folds. Following his command, but holding back just enough to make him growl and push your thighs open the rest of the way. 

“You really wanna play with me right now, babygirl? After keeping this body away from me for days?” He rubs his cock between your cleft, tip bumping against your engorged and still so sensitive clit.

You squirm and whimper, just wanting him to be inside of you already. That halted orgasm, inching its way back to the surface every time his hot length grazes your bundle of nerves. 

“I’m sorry, James. Please. Need you inside me.” You plead. “It’s been too long since you filled me up.”

“You’re sorry huh?” You quickly nod your head. “Gonna let me wreck this pussy? Ruin you for anyone else? Milk me dry like the cumdrunk little slut that you are?”

“Yes. Yes. Please.” You beg, just wanting him to finally take you, reclaim you as his own.

“As you wish, babygirl.” He slams forward to the hilt, splitting you open with his girth.

He doesn't even give you a moment to get reacquainted with the size of him deep inside you. He just pulls back and thrusts in harder. Setting up a pace that just makes your brain go fuzzy and every nerve-ending sings in pleasure.

“Fuuuck. Look at you doll.” He grunts out. “Already cock drunk and I’ve barely gotten started. Pussy’s gripping me so tight baby. She doesn't want to let me go.”

Your mind can't function enough to produce anything other than moans, whimpers and wails of pleasure. You’re flying a serotonin high you are not ready to come down from yet. The coil in your core tightening as you dance closer and closer to the knife's edge of orgasm. Waiting for the moment when you dive off the edge into ecstasy.

Almost as if sensing that your climax is impending, Bucky picks up the pace, swiveling his hips and grinding his pelvis down on your clit for added stimulation. “Come on, baby. Come for me, pretty girl. I can feel your walls quivering around me. Give in. Fall apart on my cock. Show me how good I make you feel.”

That’s it. That’s all you need to lose yourself and let go completely. Surrendering to the euphoric bliss, screaming out for the whole compound to hear.

A rainbow of stars detonate behind your eyes as you writhe beneath him, back arching off the mattress before you go limp, laying in a state of bonelessness.

“Don’t pass out on me now doll. I’m so close. Little pussy is squeezin’ me so tight.” His pumps become erratic as he chases his own high. “Don’t you want me to fill  you up? Have me leaking out of you for days?”

You just nod and whisper out. “Please. Full.” Not able to formulate more than two words in your current state.

It was all the validation that he needed to hear to stop holding back and release the days worth of his seed into your waiting womb. Painting the walls white with rope after rope of his spend. 

It felt like it went on forever with how much he was pouring into you, until his dick stopped twitching and he collapsed on your chest. Catching his breath and covering your face in sweet kisses as you both come back down to earth.

You stayed locked together, your pussy warming his cock, as you both let your fingertips roam along the other's skin. Allowing yourselves time to just revel in the moment of the new direction your relationship is heading.

"You sure you're okay with the world knowing about us, doll? You’re not afraid that you'll no longer be safe?" He asks into your neck. 

"Like I said before, I feel no less safe than I did before, James.” You tell him with conviction. ”Plus now, I get to rub it in everyone's face that the White Wolf is all mine.” You grin like the cat that got the cream. “You're truly stuck with me now, Bucky."

He chuckles. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He places a soft kiss on your lips.

Just as the kiss deepens and you start the journey towards round two, there’s a knock at the door, followed by Sam’s muffled voice. "You guys done making up yet? Steve wont let us eat until you guys get back out here."

You both can’t help but laugh. "Tell Stevie we'll be right out but we're not staying long. I've got time to make up for."

“TMI man! A simple ‘Be right out’ would have been enough, Buck.” Sam scoffs as we walks back to the common area.

“Come on, doll. Let’s get dressed before Stevie comes looking for us next.”

If you made it to the end, THANK YOU! If you liked it please feel free to let me know (but it's not required); and if you didn't, that's okay too, I still thank you for even giving it a chance.

#poc reader #avengers smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes

[havensins]

@ masterlist.

navigation.

━━ fics & whathaveyou.

tony stark.

tony stark & intern!reader

tony stark x jealous!m!reader

steve rogers.

steve rogers pwp

steve’s first time being submissive

steve rogers x poc!reader headcanons

steve rogers x m!reader (enemies? to lovers)

bucky barnes.

soft sub!bucky x dom!reader

sub!bucky x dom!reader

stephen strange.

stephen strange & m!reader headcanons

bratty!stephen strange x dom!reader

thor odinson

sub!thor x m!reader

thor x dom!m!reader (personal favorite)

peter parker

peter parker x symbiote!m!reader

misc.

bruce wayne x m!reader cafe au

lucifer morningstar x male reader

━━ drabbles & whatnot.

tony stark.

tony trying to dom / powerbottom

breeding w/ tony

fingering ftm!tony in public

thigh riding with bratty ftm!tony

exhibitionism and public indecency with tony

pillow princess tony

tony surprising you with lingerie

steve rogers.

fucking steve dumb

free use & steve (mentions of avengers x steve)

sentimental sex with steve

1940s soldier!steve

pre-serum steve with a praise kink

dumbification with pre-serum steve

exhibitionist steve

oral with pre-serum steve, bucky watches

fucking steve’s pecs + feminization

breeding and degrading steve

hair pulling with bratty!steve

bucky barnes.

bucky + comfort sex

oral with ftmbucky

overstimulating bucky after a nightmare

jealousy and ftm!bucky (personal favorite)

somnophilia & dub-con with bucky

steven grant + marc spector.

insecure ftm!steve grant

ftm!steven grant

more ftm steven

thigh fucking marc spector

face sitting with ftm!steven

stephen strange.

bratty ftm stephen

incubus? reader & stephen strange.

thor odinson.

submissive thor

ftm thor

needy thor wanting your attention

free use & thor

loki laufeyson.

pillow princess ftm loki, extremely mild

loki cumming from having his hair pulled

ftm loki riding you & squirting

thigh riding with ftm bratty loki

sam wilson.

rimming sam wilson

sam wilson + captain kink & praise kink

peter parker.

pushing peter to his limits with overstim

choking peter parker

rimming peter parker

teasing & fingering ftm!peter parker

eating out ftm!peter

peter wanting you to take aggression out on him

exhibitionism? with peter

ftm!peter with a size kink

cockwarming, dumbification, daddy kink, and feminization with peter

jerking peter off where the other avengers can hear

wanda maximoff.

making wanda touch herself as punishment

miguel o’hara.

exhibitionism & breeding with miguel

miguel who goes into subspace when praised

sub miguel with overstim, praise kink, & biting

breeding ftm miguel

giving miguel head while he’s at hq

enemies to casual hookups with miguel

miguel riding you

hobie brown.

fucking hobie dumb

misc / multi character.

bucky & miguel for your birthday

tony, bucky, and steve in subspace + aftercare

#❣️ - navigation #dom male reader #dom!reader #top male reader #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #steve rogers x male reader #bucky barnes x male reader #tony stark x male reader #batman x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #x reader #x male reader #steven grant x male reader #marc spector x male reader #moonknigjt x reader #sub!steven grant #masterlist