#mercenary bucky

[imaginedreamwrite]

Here’s Your Perfect: Part 1

The plain and dark dyed fabric was nothing significant and neither was your state as you slipped it over your head and tightened the stays in the front, the laces are as plain and ordinary as the dress you are given.

Your father, mother and brother are expecting you down in the sitting room of your homely chateau, the previous week’s ball in which most women were matched or at the very least given offers, had produced little excitement for you.

The only exception was the news that your mother and father had found someone for you, two men who were older than you had anticipated and had refused a dower. Instead, they had given your parents a great lump sum of money to take you off their hands and it was with that news that the rumours started.

The ladies you should have been in social circles with started talking amongst themselves about the fate you would meet as a wedded whore. That was your fate one way or another, for a woman like you with no other prospects, you would either become a whore to any man who would dole out some pennies for your warmth or you would become a whore in the marriage bed.

It was what was expected of someone like you, someone who had not been declared a bountiful beauty with men fawning over you. Your mother and your father should have been, and truly were, elated to even be rid of you. The offer was accepted and you were as good as sold to two men you had never met, cast away upon two men whose tempers or natures could have been uglier and more devastating than even you could have imagined.

Since you had learned of the arrangement, and you had been given little hope to run anywhere from your fate, you had spent more time with your mind between pages of novels than you had with other people. You would often find yourself escaping to a world where everything was set in ink and contrived between thick stock with sturdy bindings.

It was obtuse of you to think that you could forever escape the world around you with that of fiction, just as it would have been a disservice to your mind to think that you could have remained a spinster your entire life.

Your mother and father would just as rather cast you off to be rid of you as they would have been to send you to the workhouse. They didn’t see the value in a woman who was as unjustly triggering as you, even if you were their only daughter.

Where men had liked full bosoms and gentle curves that could be cupped in a man’s hands, you were too gifted in the vivacious manner of your appearance, with heavier breasts than were desired and more weight around your hips and backside.

You were a woman with fuller curves that could not be hidden in your everyday life given the style of fashion and the emphasis on looking sleek and feminine. And your mother and father had contained enough pride not to sully their namesakes by sending you to a poor man to be married.

They would rather you be a whore to any common man than a wife to a peasant.

“You don’t carry great wealth either, father.” The comment was made, the barb had sunk into your parent’s reputations while they had clung to the societal ladder they were placed on with every possible ounce of their strength.

They were just important and dignified enough to be allowed in their society, to be allowed to attend balls with the nobles and hope their children would marry up. Having you, their rather beastly daughter married off was an added bonus to them.

Your father and mother could then focus on your brother by having him seduce as many eligible noble daughters as he could. It was their goal to rid themselves of their greatest disappointment and win over nobles higher than themselves with their son.

“You are nothing desirable, you will be made a whore and you will die a whore.” There was no great effort extended upon you, there was no small measure taken to make you appear to be something you weren’t.

You were given a plain and dark blue dress that was woven with familiar dark thread, there was nothing to impress with the stays and the belt that was made to cinch your waist. The corset was bound comfortably, not in comparison to some other ladies’ personal choice, and yet despite the cut of the dress and the corset’s design, the size of your chest was not hidden. Neither were the curves of your waist and your backside.

“You’ll finally be rid of me, mother.” The comment you had made in regards to your mother had echoed on the staircase as you descended the stairs, there wasn’t a moment of regret over the way she had treated you, neither was there regret when she had the audacity to look appalled over your comment.

It was only when you had seen the surprise in her eyes that you were made aware of your future husbands talking quietly amongst your father and brother. Then you had understood that not only had your comment been heard by your company, but it had raised questions about their familial circle.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I am your mother-“ She reached for you, she set her hand upon your shoulder and you rebuffed her with a swift smack to her hand, the crack of her knuckles against the wall stirring more curiosity from the guests.

“You never wanted me to be your daughter, don’t bother showing care now mother.” You lifted your skirts so as not to trip on the stairs and hurried down the remaining steps, scurrying around the corner before coming to a direct stop.

Both men were settled in the small sitting room nearest the fireplace, both of them staring your father down with contrived suspicion and mild disbelief. They were looking upon him and your brother as if they were trying to piece together the men and woman who had spent the greatest portion of their respective lives trying to gain favours from people who did not want them and had no need for them.

They were dressed in fine cloth and tunics, a touch of furs on the darker-haired man who had a knife set across his lap, and the regal stature of the man whose hair could have been considered dark blonde or light brunette. Both of their beards had been speckled with grey and white, a few streaks that had rendered them wise with age and still beautiful enough to steal the hearts of any one dame they had come across.

“Y/N,” your father had cast a look over his shoulder, nearly grimacing while his hands had shaken, “there seems to be a mistake. The men who offered for your hand-“

“Do not make us fools.” The brunette had spoken with ice in his voice and a mean sneer forming on his face. “You do not want to push us past our limits.”

“The men who offered money for that whore-“

“Watch your tongue boy, or it may be removed from your mouth.” The regal-looking man had stood.

He had risen to his feet and straightened out the tunic that was well formed across his chest and shoulders, the tapered edge toward his hips and thighs bringing your attention to his height that was more substantial than your father and brother combined.

“Y/N,” he stepped toward you, stood in front of you and addressed you first with the bow of his head as if he was speaking to royalty before his eyes, and then he grasped your hand to place a kiss against your knuckles, “you are more breathtaking than I remember.”

“I don’t…” your eyebrows had become furrowed and your lips had pursed, “forgive my confusion but I don’t remember ever meeting you.”

The tunic he wore was rich in colour, well suited to the colour of his skin. It had brought out the depths of his eyes and was paired well with dark breeches and tall riding boots. His hair was brushed back, long enough to dust his shoulders and his hand was warm as it held yours. He was a man that would always remain beautiful, time had only aided his natural charm and attractiveness.

“I could never forget someone like you, but I suppose your lack of knowledge about me is hardly your fault.” His words were sent as barbs toward your father, mother and brother. “I’ve made my fortunes far from this hellhole, in the north where I own portions of land-“

“Lord Levinson,” you had finally hit recognition, reminiscing over the conversations you had heard months ago about the wealthy lord who had provided most of the allocated food resources for the kingdom, “my apologies-“

“You do not bow your head for me.” He cupped your chin and tilted your head up, studying you with warmth in his eyes. “You heard of me, but you don’t remember how we met?”

You remembered hearing of him although you didn’t recall personally meeting the man who was now here to wed you. Well, one of the men who had paid your father and mother for the right to have your hand.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize, dewdrop.” He smiled, soft and charmingly. “I don’t suppose you remember hearing of a mercenary’s reputation-“

At his words, the other man had stood and approached you, the one who had been wearing furs along with his tunic.

His hair was longer than Ari’s and had been plaited in a simple braid to keep it out of his face, like Ari his hair was streaked and littered with silver and grey. His eyes were far bluer than Ari’s, the unrestricted azure depths were just as captivating. He had a few scars on his face, none that took away from his beauty or ruggish charm, and there was a glove on one hand that made you wonder if there was some kind of injury to his appendage.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” he had grasped your hand and kissed your knuckles like Ari, the two of them revelling in the intake of air and the steady rise and fall of your chest, “but please call me Bucky. Ari was right, it has been too long since we have seen you.”

“We didn’t agree to this! If we had known that it was you offering for her hand-!” Your father stood abruptly, and with anger had raised an accusatory finger toward the two men. “You have cheated me out of a fortune-“

“We made an offer and sent representatives of our business to have the offer accepted. If you didn’t have the good sense to recognize the wax seals on sturdy letters then it is your fault and your fault alone.” Ari had communicated with a calm nature, not backing down for a moment as your father’s sneer and rage increased.

“You stole property-!”

“Continuing to address your daughter as property is done with distaste.” Ari had stepped forward while ushering you with a steady hand toward Bucky, briefly watching you until you were in between himself and your other future husband.

“If you won’t refrain from addressing our future wife with the kind of respect you would lavish upon us then like your son, your tongue will be removed from your mouth.”

“You have no right-!” Your brother had stepped forward, believing that the two of them together could have stood against the two men come to gather you.

“I have every right to tend to my wife as I see fit. I have every right to defend my wife as I see fit.” He squared his jaw and his shoulders, rising to his full height. “You set a price for your daughter and it was agreed upon. She is no longer your ‘property’, at this moment she is mine.”

Silence fell upon your father, nothing was said and no one had moved until the door to your familial home had opened and a sturdy trunk had been carried inside. Ari had stepped out of the way as it was set upon the wooden floor, keeping himself between your father and yourself, and then he nudged the edge of the trunk.

“Your payment for your daughter, under the condition that if you should ever try and test me or our wife again, I will have your head.” The threat was made, and then Ari had slipped his arm in with yours and cast his eyes upon you, studying you. “Is there anything you need to retrieve?”

“I’d rather burn it all.” Your eyes grew wider when there was nothing less than stalwart devotion and adoration, protective instincts at the forefront of his eyes.

“Good. We have things ready for you at our home, you’ll need and want for nothing.”

“You whore!” Your brother screamed at you, he lashed out at you as you were escorted out the door by Ari and Bucky, his comment met by the sharp sting of your father’s hand upon his cheek.

“Shut your mouth, boy! Lest we all have our heads clean cut from our bodies!”

Permanent Tags List: @jennmurawski13-writes @beardburnsupersoldiers @daydreaminginthechaos @rebekahdawkins @supraveng @bookfrog242 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @valsworldofcreativity @rainbowkisses31 @loveitorleaveit20 @alexakeyloveloki @socalgem1124 @mogaruke @dreamlessinparis @frisky975 @dispatchvampire @hereforbuckyandsteve @jesgisborne @fairybnha3 @hallecarey1 @tang082646 @mrslokibarnesrogers @deputy-videogamer @posionivy0061 @loving-life-my-way @kaylamcd2000 @mercyy98 @undecidedsworld @rootcrop @whatinthestyles @slutforsteve @cornmousequeen @rededfoxy @yagurl-snow @glimmering-darling-dolly @patzammit @buckymydarlingangel @missusbarnes-rogers @andy-is-gay @nervousfandom @rileyloves5 @emi11ie @carelessreadersstuff @readingandwritingandreading @cynic-spirit @inkedaztec @gh0stgurl @mansaaay @cats-and-sheep @pono-pura-vida @seitmai @teambarnes72

#Silverfox!Ari Levinson x reader x silverfox!Bucky Barnes #landowner!ari levinson #mercenary!bucky barnes x reader #Silverfox!Bucky Barnes x reader x silverfox!Ari Levinson #ari levinson imagines fluff #ari levinson imagines angst #ari levinson imagines smut #ari levinson x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes x reader #historical au #mercenary!Bucky Barnes #lord!Ari Levinson #here’s your perfect #here’s your perfect series #here’s your perfect masterlist #here’s your perfect part 1

[aqueeriumwrites]

has anyone ever written a marvel/dc crossover fic with bucky x slade

cause i word vomited a fic idea for one into my ideas doc a while back and it's kinda my roman empire because BADASS GAY MERCENARIES (who are both disabled!!!) seems amazing but. it would be really long. the basic idea (i.e. the aforementioned word vomit) alone is almost 500 words. and the longest thing i've posted on ao3 was under 4k words. so, like, if anyone wants to co-write or cheer me on or smth, it would be much appreciated😭

#fic writer woes #badass gay mercenaries!!! #peter parker is also featured #the ship name is buckslade btw #because all the other ones i came up with sounded wrong #deathsoldier? nah. #winterstroke? sounds like wintergreen x slade #wilbarnes? fuck off #buckslade reigns supreme #dcu #bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel mcu #crossover #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #i seriously need help #any assistance is welcome #slade wilson #deathstroke

[hotniatheron]

me with my powerpoint on how fight choreography is important because when done well, it also serves as character background and can display character relationships and evolve with the narrative:

#for example: catws holds up bc the fights are good. key scenes revolve around each fight. if the fights were not good. those scenes would #not be good #what i also think is neat is that steve and natasha's fights on the lemurian star also foreshadow the fights they have later in the movie #on va voir -> does anybody want to get out? #nat rappelling down to land on the mercenary -> garroting bucky #grenade tossed into the office + steve using his shield -> confrontation with zemo + missile

[elgaberino-mcoc]

BATTLESTAR has been added to the MCOC Wishlist

This long-running superhero got a bad start in poorly-advised stunts for publicity but earned a better name with Wild Pack, Secret Avengers, Ducky Dozen, and other teams over the years @MarvelChampions #MCOC #BHM #BlackHistoryMonth

#Battlestar #Lemar Hoskins #Bucky #Power Broker process #mcoc class science #Mercenary #Wild Pack #Secret Avengers #Ducky Dozen #Black #Black History Month #additions #recent rank #MCU #MCU phase 4 #patriotic #The Falcon and The Winter Soldier #Wishlist Cleanup

[biteofcherry]

What story you would write for him - randomagnes0210.tumblr.com/701345413474729984/chris-you-inspired-me-and-i-didnt-know-i 👀

Holy fuuuck 😳🥵🥵

I'm sorry, my brain kinda short circuited. I need time to get it back to function. Damn. Wow. Okay.

that's a soft!dark Steve Rogers

An enforcer/mercenary Steve (maybe for mafia Bucky? idk), who can make things really bloody and still keep his slate clean of any evidence. From organizing a disposable group to do the dirty work, to a stealthy kill done by himself if needed.

He has a sleek beast of a bike, as well a bullet-fast camaro. There's always a weapon on him, even when he looks like he's there to chill only.

You don't see a gun? No glint of a knife? There's a garrote in the wristwatch, or in the beads he wears on his wrist. Not to mention the things he can do with his hands alone.

It's those hands that got you staring when you approached him with your little nephew at your side. The boy, being all moto crazy, couldn't stop tugging at your hand when he saw the Camaro. So you did what any good aunt would - you took his small hand in yours and approached a stranger, asking sweetly if he won't mind your nephew taking a closer look at the car.

Steve's eyes when they settled on you were cold and sharp like a blade. Almost made you take a step back. Then he glanced at the kid, who was staring at his car with pure awe, and back at you, his gaze softening.

"Sure thing, cherry."

His voice had a rich, raspy timbre, reminding you of how your own voice gets after a few good orgasms (which you gave yourself with the use of your toys, since your latest dates lacked in that area).

Steve's eyes shifted to your chest when he said that, a smirk curling the left corner of his mouth upwards. Your top had printed cherries on it. You found it cute when you bought it. Now you felt embarrassed wearing something so sweet it was almost childish.

You dropped your gaze, muttering a thank you.

You let out a breath of relief when Steve's eyes finally turned away from you. He bent over the hood again and your own gaze slid from his tight ass (you scolded yourself inwardly for even daring to look that way!) over the wide plain of his back to his hands.

Those damn hands that would be your undoing, you thought as you stared at them. Nimble and skilled fingers tinkering with something, a vine of dark ink starting atop his palm and curling upwards over the corded muscles of his forearms, to disappear in an array of color beneath the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.

You saw splashes of tattoos on his chest and reaching up to his neck. Your mind wandered through images of exploring hos the pattern looks over his back, his it moves over his ribs when he breathes.

If there are tattoos leading down his abdomen...

You were so lost in it, you didn't hear what Steve was saying, until you felt your nephew tug on your hand.

"Can we? Can we, please?!" The kid looked up at you with hopeful eyes.

"Um." You swallowed, uncertain of what exactly was asked of you. Feeling all the more embarrassed for it.

"Of course you can, buddy." Steve decided, not waiting for your brain to catch up with his proposition to take you both for a short ride in his car.

His smile was bright and charming, yet held a hint of predatory satisfaction. A cocky confidence you usually hated in men.

Steve's eyes held a mirthful glint as he caught your gaze, but also something dark that quickened your pulse.

"I'm sure your aunt craves a good ride, too."

You had to clench your thighs at the surge of heat that filled your belly and spread down, pooling in a small wet spot on your panties.

You should've said no. Your body may heat up for this tattooed, hot as sin stranger, but your instinct all but yelled at you to run away. There was something dangerous about him, in more than just sexy way.

But it's something you would find out much later.

Too late to run away from his possession, or to stop wanting him so badly.

If you only knew how lethal he was, you wouldn't say yes to getting a lift to your place after you dropped off your nephew at his parents.

You wouldn't follow Steve's raspy command and let him fuck you in the narrow space of his camaro - bruises from the steering wheel faint compared to the marks Steve's hands left on your thighs and around your neck.

If you suspected the dark web awaiting you, maybe you wouldn't like how he called you sweet cherry.

Maybe you wouldn't cream on his cock as he fucked you right outside of your apartment, in a dark corridor where any of your neighbors could walk, with his hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your screaming orgasm and hips snapping hard into you.

You wouldn't whisper a weak Yes, Steve when he told you where to meet him, scribbling down the address on a piece of paper and slipping it under the waistband of your ruined panties.

But you said yes to all of those things. You allowed Steve to do those dirty things to you. And you wanted more. Even if your instinct still alarmed of danger.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #soft!dark steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #enforcer!steve rogers #it maaay turn into actual series sometime in the futur #*future #idk i make no promises yet but it's tempting #for now I'm titling it - Cherry #steve fic: cherry

[1800jjbarnes]

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟖: 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇

Planet 3564AB

【Synopsis】 : You're a Mercenary, searching for your next job in the galaxy. Little did you know, being stuck on a wateland planet was about to gift you more than just galactic credits.

『W.C』 : 1.51k

-> Genre: Sci-Fi. Smut. Poly.

Paring: Alien!Bucky x Mercenary!Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Neck kisses. Unprotected sex. Anal. Lots of tentacle penetration. Multiple orgasms. Lots of bodily fluids. Dirty talk. Mention of Steve and…laying eggs… I’m sorry, hehe. Hints of a poly relationship with Stucky. Swearing.

Masterlist | Kinktober List

Stuck on a rogue planet, you had decided to explore some of the caves nearby for any type of supplies but you were at no luck. Your ship's engine had seemly malfunctioned from a strange goop from the waste landed planet's surface. But other than the odd glowing goo dripping from your ship, you didn’t see any on the floor or tailing anywhere. but you soon brushed it off, blaming it could be from the atmosphere, a small life form maybe? Or even something you could have picked up along the way and it’s only affected the machine now.

Either way, you looked around the planet and through an unsuccessful scavenge you found nothing of use to help you. You had called one of your teammates from the same clan as you, Sam. He said he and Steve would come over from Planet Stark which is just under a day's trip, so it meant you’d been staying the night on this shit-forsaken wasteland. Watching the two bright pink suns slowly begin to set, you had made a border, or a guard of some sort to help protect yourself and most importantly your ship while you were asleep. You had no idea what might be lurking on this seemingly empty planet.

You shifted in and out of consciousness, trying to sleep but something felt off, like something was watching you. That you weren’t alone. You had decided the only way you were going to sleep was to do one more quick sweep of the ship even though you had done a sweep over four times already before going to bed. But one more time, you kept repeating to yourself. And by the time you came to your cock pit the last part of the ship you had still found nothing. the doors were locked and nothing seemed to be inside the ship. Yes maybe something could be wandering outside but you were safe… right?

You go to leave to pilot room but when you open the sliding door you're met with a large body running into you. Everything was happening so quickly that you couldn’t even see what had grabbed you. A wet lanky object wrapped around your ankle, holding you against your captain's chair while another smooth, long object held your wrists locking them above your head. You thrashed, trying to push the creature off you, fearing it might be here to kill you but as another lanky object glided over your navel, you knew what it wanted.

“G-Get off me!!” You try to throw the beast but it only chuckled, with a deep velvet voice. His blue-ish skin was caught in your view its dark eyes caught your attention. It was a man, well mostly. Soft and fair freatures of a handsome man stared at you for a moment, his sharp teethed smile making you shiver. His body was board and a slip-like opening was painting the middle of his chest. It was opened slightly, letting yet another Tentacle spill out making it grab your other ankle, now successfully holding you open for the creature to shift himself between your spread legs. His large hands took a handful of fabric from your sleep shirt, ripping it off without a thought. You gasp, feeling your bare chest being tickled by the cold air. Your nipples were achingly hard, his face dipped down latching onto your buds sucking in harshly while a socked tentacle wrapped around your other one pinching it. “Fuck!”

Your body was burning, slipping under the control of the creature. Your mind became so foggy all you could do was whimper, no longer fighting him. He seemed to notice kissing up your neck until he found your lips, locking his with your plump ones. His very long tongue explored your mouth, making you gag slightly as the wet appendage almost went down your throat. His fingers hooked under your sleep short ripping them apart along with your underwear. Tears swelled up on the corners of your eye, feeling his tentacles spread your ass cheeks while another one poked at your tight asshole. He pulled away letting you breathe, coughing out while your saliva dripped from your chin.

 “I’m gonna fill you up. Breed you, my mate…hmm you smell so good.” The alien rambles repeating the words along the line of ‘breed,’ ‘mate’, ‘fuck’. you weren't really paying attention, mind melting from the feeling of his appendages playing with your holes. His tentacle slipped inside your ass making you cry, having not prepped you properly. But the burn was so pleasurable you couldn’t complain. He fucked you fast, making you feel like you were going to tip over the edge. Your hazy eyes watching him sit up slightly, watching his tentacle fuck you. He was groaning at the sensation of your tight ass wrapped around him. Another wet limb slipped out of the gap in his chest moving down to snake around his cock. Pumping him in time with him fucking your ass. His fingers pinched your clit while the other free one squeezed your breast. The feeling was enough to send you over the edge, coming around nothing. While squirting on him. He bit his lip coming also all over your tummy and chest while his tentacle empty his load in your ass as well. You were covered in his seed, while he was soaked in your juices. But that didnt stop him. He needed more.

“I’m gonna breed you now, my mate.” He moaned, placing his hands on either side of your hips, lifting you up so your back laid awkwardly on the large chair and your feet dangled on either side of his huge body. His cock inches inside you in one clean motion while his tentacle had stayed still deep in your other tight hole, holding your ass cheeks apart. He thrust in a quick snap, making you gasp for air. His cock was just what your body needed. He watched you intensely, your mouth agape and mind gone. Your body was his to use as he pleased. All of his wet limbs could have their fun, filling all the holes they could find. Two in your ass, one slipping into your mouth making you lazily suck to and another two slipping slowly into your soaked cunt beside his cock filling you more than you’d ever been before.

“Fuck, Fgmnng mnnBuck…” You rambled against his long wet appendage, making the alien grin. You were so full of him and he was living for every moment.

“You gonna cum baby? Hmm? Come on, make a mess on my cock.” the snap of the creature's hips sent your body into overdrive, making you squeeze his cock, coming down fast from your high. Your cunt clenched milking him for every drop he had, as he also came inside your ass and mouth, successfully filling you in every hole. His grip loosened, and all his limbs left you, making you feel empty. His tentacles unbound themselves from your wrists and ankles, letting your aching body sit upright on the defiled captain's chair. You rubbed your wrists while catching your breath, watching all the alien's tentacles slip back into the opening in his chest before he seals shut. You clicked your tongue, leaning back.

“What have I told you about stowing away on my ship,” you said sternly in between pants, but in truth, you were to mad at him.

“Steve got to lay his eggs with you just before you left and I didn’t have time to tell you about the mating season. So I thought the logical to just come with you…” He spoke rather fast, “To be fair I didn’t know how long you were going to be and I didn’t want to spend it with Steve alone again…” There was nothing wrong with Steve, in fact, he loved the Altean but he needed his mate. You sighed, knowing the journeys you take sometimes last longer than anticipated but still, he didn’t need to hide away and goop your ship engine up just to fuck you.

“Okay…But just so you know, Sam and Steve will be here from first light to bring supplies to fix what you damaged…” you crossed your arms over your bare chest feeling the stickiness of his seed. God, you needed a shower.

“Well then, let's shower and fuck some more before they arrive I’m sure once Steve smells my scent on you he’ll want a parting gift before they go back to base..” like he had read your mind, he wiggled his eyebrows, picking you up so your legs would wrap around his hips.

“You’re going back with them you realize. I’m warning you.” you groaned at him, resting your head on his chest as he walked to the shower bay. He kisses the top of your head before chuckling;

“I like to see you try.”

#1-800-jjbarnes #marvel #jjbarnes #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan bucky barnes #james barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x you #james barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #kinktober 2023 #mcu kinktober #kinktober #sebastian stan x fluff #sebastian stan x plus size reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan

[sparkagrace]

Steve Rogers, PA | @sparkagrace steve x bucky | teen | wip

tags: winter soldier Bucky Barnes, personal assistant Steve Rogers, beefy Steve, hunkyclinks, canon div, fluff, crack taken seriously

Steve Rogers didn't intend to work for an assassin, uh, mercenary, but it turns out he's a pretty good personal assistant. The hours are pretty good, he gets to work on his thesis… and his boss - the Winter Soldier - isn't too bad to look at either. But Steve might find that this job is more than he bargained for.

A fic series created for @buckybarnesevents' Build a Bucky Bingo with some prompts from @stuckybingo.

#BaBB2023 #stucky bingo #stevebucky #stucky fic #stevebucky fanfiction #steve x bucky #my fic

[blood-and-winter-buckynat]

A BuckyNat story where their cats Alpine and Liho figure out that their humans like each other and decide to get them together, so the two cats arrange a series of feline hijinks to make sure their humans take time out of their busy superhero/villain/mercenary schedules to clean up the mess and "Nat, I'm so sorry, idk why my cat's been acting weird lately--" "Liho, why do you keep going over to Barnes' apartment?" But those 'chance' meetings are enough to trigger some chemistry and soon their owners don't mind their cats visiting each other, in fact Bucky and Natasha start going out.

#prompt #buckynat #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #fic idea #liho the cat #alpine the cat

[sunflowerrosewood]

Trapped Together ~ Bucky Barnes

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

On to the one shot! Takes place after Civil War

You have been working in the Avengers for two years as a mercenary. You would help build and rebuild weapons and when you fought, you fought with a silver sword and grenades. 

While you worked together with Nat and Clint often, the others had a lot of respect for you. Well most of them. One particular man that wasn't as keen was Bucky Barnes. He always seemed to piss you off or degrade your work. 

You actually thought Bucky was extremely attractive and kind to others but whenever he would degrade your work, you would feel your heart shatter. It made you feel like you meant nothing to him. 

Well Bucky thought opposite of that. You walked in with your head high and knowing how to make weapons. He could have kissed you then and there. But you couldn't love him. He's still in bad shape from after Wakanda. Sure he was "fixed" from the brainwashing but it scared him if it came back. It was easier to push away. It was easy to call you out harshly when you fixed his gun. 

You were working on Sam's Red Wing with him and noticed Bucky had walked in. 

"L/n, what are you doing? Trying to break Sam's Red Wing?" Bucky sneered before dropping a file on your table. 

"What did you drop Barnes?" You snapped back as Bucky rolled his eyes. 

"We're on a weekend case in Barcelona. Apparently there's  Hydra trying to build up there." Bucky explained before storming off. 

"I swear you two just need to kiss." Sam grumbled as you dropped your wrench on your foot. 

"Damn it!" You held your foot. "Why do you say that?"

"There's too much tension here." Sam chuckled as you two continued repairs.

It was a few days later when you wore some jeans and a tank top. You got your overnight bag and went to meet Bucky. Bucky was already at the helicarrier and glaring towards the door. 

"Ready to go?" You questioned.

"The sooner we can get this over with." Bucky grumbled as you sighed. 

You two sat as far from each other until the plane landed in Barcelona and near your hotel. You two entered your room and noticed you two had to share a bed. 

"I can-can sleep on the floor." You stuttered out as Bucky sighed. 

"No we both need our strength so just stay to your side. I'll get us some food." Bucky sighed. 

You sat your bag down and jumped in the shower while Bucky got food. Bucky got back before you got out of your shower. You did not know Bucky imagined sharing that shower with you and listening to the humming that he could barely hear. When he realized the water turned off, he immediately sat the food out. He already began to ate. 

"I see you grabbed some chops. Thanks." You said softly as you came out in a tank and shorts. 

"It's nothing L/n." Bucky said. 

The night went as well as it could. Bucky took a shower and you couldn’t help but stare at his body as he got out of the shower. You quickly went back to your phone as Bucky got into bed beside you. You felt your heart race as he laid down away from you. You sighed and laid down yourself.

When you woke up, there was breakfast out and Bucky was already dressed. He was loading his gun which he was having difficulties with. You got up with bed head and walked over to your bag to grab some wrenches.

“Here.” You said with a yawn as you tinkered with the gun. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky questioned with not as much haste. 

“I’m fixing your gun.” You said softly before handing it back and it was working better.

“I found breakfast for us.” Bucky said before working to get other things together.

“Thanks.” You said while munching on the omelette. 

After you ate the rest of breakfast and got some clothes on, you and Bucky ran out to the helicarrier to fly to the nearest base for Hydra. You and Bucky grabbed your weapons like his machine gun from Wakanda and your Claymore sword. You noticed Bucky was not as rude to you until the Hydra agents found you. 

“Damn it L/n! If you would have made a silencer on the gun, we would not be running!” Bucky screamed as you were following him.

“Will you shut up and keep running?! There’s like 30 agents firing.” You yelled before a bullet hit your shoulder. “Oww! Damn it!” 

You two ran into a nearby small room and quickly locked the door. The other Hydra agents came storming in and past your room that you two heard. You were grabbing your arm that was staining your hand red.

“Damn it, if we would have gotten rid of them. We would not have to deal with this. Now we have to wait for backup. You better hope we do not have to stay in this tiny room.” Bucky rambled while pacing in a small area where you could only pace three steps. 

“If you would quit rambling then maybe we can get out of this.” You said as Bucky was still pacing.

“If we would have had the damn silencer, we would be fine!” Bucky snapped before stopping his pacing. “You’re hurt?!”

“Now you notice.” You snapped. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Here let me-”

“If you are just going to degrade me more then let me heal myself.” You snapped.

Bucky stopped and dropped down on his knees to grab a bandana that he had in his pocket. He touched your arm and you flinched.

“Sorry Y/n.” Bucky said as he opened your bag. “Do you have water that I can clean ?” 

“Back pocket.” You hissed as Bucky opened to find your med kit and water bottle.

As Bucky cleaned the wound and pulled out the bullet. He sighed and continued to wash some water over it before you heard more firing. You could hear Sam, Steve, Nat, and Tony outside the area yelling. You sighed in relief as Bucky wrapped your wound with a bandana.

“Bucky? Y/n?” You heard Steve yell as Bucky kicked the door to show where you two were. 

“There you two are! We got rid of the Hydra agents. Let’s get on the helicarrier.” Sam said as he noticed the already stained bandana. “Y/n! You’re hurt!” 

Sam immediately helped you up and you failed to notice Bucky’s hurt expression. He was thinking over the idea that you said you degraded him. He walked towards the helicarrier almost like a ghost. 

As you returned back to the base, Steve made you get your wound patched up and allowed you to take the next couple of days off. You hated having to not work in your mercenary room. You were listening to your favorite genre of music until you heard a knock. 

“Come in.” You said softly as you saw Bucky walk in. “Barnes, what are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior. Is it okay if I come over to you?” Bucky asked while scratching the back of his neck.

“Of course.” You said before patting the spot beside you. “FRIDAY, please turn down the music.”

“On it Ms. L/n.” FRIDAY said as Bucky walked over.

“Y/n, I never meant it to seem like I was degrading you when it came to your weapons or self. When you snapped that comment at me in the Hydra base, I was honestly surprised. I came off rude to you to protect yourself but I feel bad. I really do think you are a wonderful person.” Bucky explained as you smiled softly.

“Thank you for apologizing Bucky. I honestly thought you hated me so I kept to myself with Sam.” You explained as Bucky touched your hand.

“I could never hate you. Quite the opposite really.” Bucky said softly. 

“What do you mean?” You asked as you scooted closer to him.

“I fell for you Y/n. I figured you would not want to date a man from the ‘40s who has issues with his past.” Bucky explained as you shook your head.

“Bucky I don’t look at those issues. You were and are very brave.” You said to him as he turned your face to him.

“Is it okay if I kiss you? I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” Bucky said as you softly laughed.

“Always the gentleman.” You teased before kissing his lips.

As you two kissed each other, it was as if the kiss was conveying the emotions left unsaid. You were pushing passion and love in the kiss. Bucky reciprocated quickly and continued to kiss you till the two of you fell backwards. You were looking into his ice blue eyes and panting softly. The two of you laughed as Bucky fell beside you.

“I still hate that you got hurt.” Bucky said as you quickly did not make eye contact. “Y/n.”

“It was coming for you so I jumped into it.” You mumbled but you know he heard because he quickly turned to you.

“What?!” He exclaimed as you buried your face into his chest.

“It was coming for you and I did not want you to get hurt.” You said as he kissed your temple.

“Well from now on, I am going to protect you. Not the other way around.” He said softly as you smiled into his chest.

You failed to notice the cheering outside your door as Sam and Steve were rooting for this. They asked FRIDAY to see your room and make sure it was going smoothly. They noticed the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms and cheered quietly. For you and Bucky, the two of you slept until dinner was served which Bucky brought to you in bed. 

#marvel #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barns x y/n #marvel winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #marvel fluff #marvel hurt #bucky barnes one shot

[imaginedreamwrite]

Here’s Your Perfect: Part 2

The lord’s manor was alight with buzzing gossip from ladies in waiting, the few that had been far friendlier to you than most.

Your father had been commissioned to create a few gifts for a visiting Lord of the north and his mate, the two alphas’ journey to the south wasn’t just meant to be a social visit. The Lord was making an appearance in the south to refortify some business contracts and negotiations.

At the news of their arrival, your father, mother, brother and yourself were invited to stay in the Lord’s manor alongside a few chosen guests. The chosen few to stay were on the cusp of being part of the nobility, albeit the lower ranks, and their appearance would have looked good for the Lord of the south.

In preparation for staying at the manor and attending the balls that were being held for Lord Levinson and Knight Barnes, your mother had given your brother and yourself intense lectures about acting accordingly.

Your brother was meant to secure a strong match with one of the noble daughters, a guarantee that your parents would scratch and crawl their way up the social ladder. Your brother had enough charm and charisma to gain the high class and unattached ladies, and he certainly had experience fooling around behind your parent’s backs.

If the maids that worked in the tavern had been any indication then your brother had quite the reputation for being a man of ill-morals.

Still, it was all fine for your brother to bed as many low-class women as he wanted as long as he still managed to marry a fine woman.

“As for you,” your mother had chided you, scornfully studying you with distaste, “I think you should find yourself sparse. No noblemen would be encouraged to be wed to an omega like you lest he be under the guise of alcohol.”

The sharp tongue and blistering insult had once upon a time rendered you a sullen mess while you struggled to gain your mother’s affection, your father’s devotion or your brother’s care.

You had learned to resign yourself to being the blackened stain upon your family’s legacy, the future of being a drunkard’s wife or a common whore was almost a guarantee for yourself. Unless your mother and father could find a man and alpha willing to take you upon themselves as nothing more than a tool for their pleasure, you would become any man’s toy.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten mother, fade into the background and pretend I’m no more important than a phantom.” You had long since come to accept your place as the lingering letdown of your family.

You had given your mother exactly what you wanted once it was announced that tea was going to be served in the sitting room, the first event to welcome the Lord and mercenary, or Knight depending on who you spoke to, to the manor. You had departed like your mother wished, armed with a book and a small satchel of fruit you had left the manor to seek your escape into the garden.

The skirts of your dress trailed with you as you took the path from the back entrance to the endearing peacefulness of the florals and fauna. You had come upon a stone bench set between a wooden arch decorated with fauna and greenery, the delicate nature of the growing vines providing as much comfort as the quietude had.

You had unfolded your book and sank to the bench with the book held in your hands, your eyes reading the ink upon the book as you entered your world and forgot what was happening around you.

Your only distraction had come an hour later when the scent of alpha had permeated the hedges to settle upon your senses. You had found yourself less interested in the book as you were in the lingering alpha nearby, finding that his scent was far less egregious than others you had come across.

“I thought everyone was invited to the party, and here you’re hiding out.” The voice was husky and deep, almost as rich as pure honey as he crooned with natural seduction.

He was standing on the other side of the living wall, the towering hedges that had acted as a topiary maze, and from your secondhand experience had been a good place for couples to hide away for sensual and private moments.

You paused mid-sentence and bit down on the inside of your cheek, humming under your breath as the scent had become thicker, radiating as if the alpha speaking from the other side of the living wall was projecting his natural pheromones as some kind of calling card.

It was a direct response to you as an omega, an alpha who was in the presence of an unmarked omega. You knew you could have felt some integral glimmer of anticipation and fear at the prospect of being so close to a mated alpha, however between his scent and the sound of his voice you were rather curious.

“I’m not one for these kinds of parties.” You snapped the book shut with a click, beginning to rise to your feet when another scent encroached upon you. “It’s the same people and the same conversations, a kind of pissing contest to see whose ego is bigger.”

The alpha had laughed, his voice thick and heady, and you were well aware of his footsteps echoing on the stone path as he started to move. You hadn’t recognized the scent nor the alpha who was speaking, and you had blamed the hedge between you for the boldness in your voice. If he couldn’t see you then he couldn’t determine whose charge you were in.

“A pissing contest?” He was coming close and you’d risen to your feet, still holding the book open to not lose your place, taking two steps for every three of his.

His scent reminded you of the early morning fog that sometimes swept across the ground in early fall, the dense clouds that were nothing more than air slipping through your fingers. This alpha’s scent was being pushed outward toward you and yet it hadn’t carried the overpowering or cringe-inducing pungency like so many other alphas.

This man’s scent was strong, it was an indication of the kind of alpha this man was and the power he heralded but there wasn’t an unlimited ego clinging to the edges.

“I suppose you find it crude.” You turned the corner taking a wide berth around the path you thought he would be taking, further entering the maze. “My mother is always telling me to mind my tongue.”

“I find it amusing.” You faltered, stopping dead when you registered another alphas scent infiltrating your nose, the adjacent power and potency as the second had been as alluring as the first.

They were integrated, engrained indicating that they were mates. The two alphas, both males, had a woven bond that was encased in metal, unbreakable and unwavering.

“I feel outnumbered.” You chimed, still feeling safe enough despite being caught with two alphas somewhere around you.

The two alphas hanging around in the garden hadn’t triggered your fight or flight instincts, their presence hadn’t made you feel as if you were being closed in on. You had almost felt more at ease with their presence here than without, and that security had your hindbrain scrambled. You didn’t know what to expect or anticipate with the two alphas, however, you didn’t immediately think you were in danger.

“Are you frightened?” The second had spoken, the second alpha’s voice as rich and suave as the first.

“Should I be?” You called out to them, their footsteps on stone coming almost in synch with your own as you turned another corner to head back to the entrance of the Lord’s manor. “Are you giving me a reason to be scared?”

The silence was pensive and it was oddly comforting, like being in the presence of an old friend that enjoyed the quietude as much as you had.

“Y/N!” The silence was golden until it was tarnished by the sound of your mother’s voice and the assault of her altered and artificial scent, the pungency irritating your nose. “Come here, now!”

The alphas had silenced themselves, even their footsteps had been stalled, they had resisted moving but you could still pinpoint their scents among the natural essence of the fauna.

“Mother, I was making myself invisible as you wanted. Out of sight and out of the minds of others.” You quipped, scurrying out of the maze-like garden straight to him.

She had put her hands on your arms and shook you once, her cathartic display of irritation with you as she dragged you behind her to the French doors leading to the manor was ritualistic at best. It was a common occurrence for your mother to be annoyed by your presence even if you were doing exactly what she wanted.

“Your brother is contending to court some noblemen’s daughters,” your mother looked upon you with disgust, her eyes narrowed as she studied the plain and simple dress you had worn, the contexture was meant to hide much of your body as possible, “and you…you could have a future as a fisherman’s wife.”

“Or his whore.” Your self-deprecating comment was one that you had heard many times over from your mother, father and brother.

As a woman and omega, who was neither delicate in size nor your composure, there was little hope for your future.

You were an omega who carried more weight than other women, you were an omega who was looked down upon because of your appearance and the manner in which you carried yourself. There were so many more omegas who were far more delicate and elegant than you, so many more omegas who were highly sought after.

“You should be lucky to get a single offer to be married and if you can’t find yourself a husband and mate, then you can consider yourself a common whore for anyone with a cock.” Your mother spoke lewdly, terribly detrimental to you as she yanked you out of the garden back into the manor.

The taste of fruit on your tongue was almost as delectable as the soft stroke of his fingers against your arm as he drew you toward the edge of the stream, the stop coming to a near end.

You had brushed your hand down the front of your dress and then took a step forward, the crunch of stones under your boots was the precursor to the splash of the water. You had stepped into the stream and reached down into the water, closing your hand around a small freshwater minnow, and when you had stood properly, you felt the steady hands of Bucky upon your hips.

“You caught a minnow with your bare hands,” he observed, pressing his chest against your back and dusting his lips against the shell of your ear, “how did you do that?”

“I spent a lot of my childhood, and adulthood, alone. I spent more time reading and running wild in the woods on the back half of the village behind my mother’s back.” You opened your hands watching the minnow in your palms for a moment before you bent back down and let it go free, watching the small fish swim away from you.

“You didn’t deserve any of the treatment inflicted upon you.” Ari had called from the far left, his hands brushing down the horses’ necks as they ate the small bushel of oats set before them. “You will never be treated like that again.”

“Why didn’t you ever find an omega before?” You questioned Ari and Bucky as you stepped out of the stream, shaking the ends of your skirt off, neither caring about the dirt that would cling to the ends or the nature of you willingly getting your hands on a fish in the way you had.

If your mother would have seen you, she would have struck you with her hand for causing you to embarrass yourself and her. She would’ve taken a few weeds to your backside despite being a grown woman, and an omega who could make her own decisions.

“Bucky had been stuck in the arena for longer than he wanted, and when he was out he had become a mercenary for hire earning himself the reputation of The Winter Soldier but with it had come certain hesitating perceptions.” Ari had stepped away from the horses and bent to retrieve the satchels that contained their tools.

“Not many omegas would willingly be happy living in the North with a man who had killed many before with his bare hands.”

“That seems like it would be less of a deterrent,” you hummed under your breath, studying the faint scars upon his hands and forearms, the signs of his successful career as a brute, “and more of an incentive.”

“We are glad we waited.” His hands felt rough and heavy against your cheeks as he cupped your flesh and tilted your head, his blue eyes studying and analyzing you with warmth. “You are the perfect omega.”

“You’re the only offer I would have received.” You stated, pulling away from Bucky when his gaze had become too intense, too captivating for you to hold without having your stomach flip end over end. “No one else was willing to put up with me.”

“Put up with you?” Ari’s gentility had taken a hard edge, his hands stalling during the process of him closing the top of the satchel.

His blue-green eyes were much darker than before, and the flare of his nostrils had you wondering if you had personally crossed a line. It wouldn’t have been the first time that you would have said something that angered those around you, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

You had broken eye contact with Ari before he stood fully, and looked back over your shoulder toward Bucky. His eyes weren’t nearly as dark at the moment as Ari’s were and he hadn’t appeared to have taken such a stark offence to the claim as Ari had.

However, you had seen the subtle shake of his fingers as he continued to tie his hair behind his head, the thin leather strip holding Bucky’s dark brown and silver streaked hair out of his face.

“Put up with you?” Ari questioned again, the physical appearance of him now had sent a shiver, not out of fear but out of appreciation for this massive alpha who was standing straight and tall.

He, like Bucky, hadn’t appeared to hold any kind of disparaging ire toward you although it was clear that Ari in the basest possible manner had taken offence to your statement.

“It’s clear that you weren’t shown your true value and treated as well as you should have been dewdrop.” Ari had exhaled in a huff, his eyes still darkening despite his voice starting t even out and return to the honey-laced words you were getting used to.

His anger, his vehement ire was aimed directly toward everyone who had done you wrong, and Ari had taken offence for you.

“That’s all going to change,” Ari’s tone of voice had produced another shiver, another illusive surge of promise and pleasure to come, “you are ours now. You are our omega and we are going to show you how much you mean to us, how valuable and precious you are.”

Bucky had agreed with Ari, giving him a subtle and soft kiss on the lips before Bucky loaded the satchels and bags again. Bucky had communicated seamlessly with Ari, a synonymous effort to undo all the bitter and unrelenting toxicity that had been inflicted upon you.

You were no longer going to be treated like you were a problem. You were going to be treated like you were the missing piece in their universe, the one they knew they always needed.

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#lord!ari levinson #silverfox!alpha!Ari Levinson x reader #alpha!silverfox!Lord!Ari Levinson #alpha!silverfox!Bucky Barnes #alpha!silverfox!Ari Levinson x reader x alpha!silverfox!Bucky Barnes #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x reader x Bucky barnes #mercenary!bucky barnes #mercenary!bucky barnes x reader #here’s your perfect #here’s your perfect series #here’s your perfect masterlist #here’s your perfect part 2

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lavender haze

See my full list of works here!

Summary: When a video of you and Loki goes viral, the world weighs in on your relationship. One comment in particular grates at Loki because it came from your mother.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: some angst; mentions of firearms, explosions, and axes at the beginning; light cussing; shitty parenting [let me know if i missed anything]

Things to be aware of: slightly insecure Loki hours

"Romanoff, your 5 o'clock!!" you bellowed from behind your cover, aiming at the head of the mercenary three feet away and sneaking up with an axe aimed at her head. You pulled the trigger before he could pull back and throw. 

The Russian looked back at the fallen mercenary and then at you, nodding once as both acknowledgement and gratitude. You peeked from behind the still upright slab of broken wall you were using as cover, firing at the mercenaries once more, trying to get them to at least stop firing at Nat so she could get to the case of botched super soldier serum that the group had somehow acquired. 

You heard a muffled call of your name vaguely somewhere behind you, but with the mercenaries now firing at you, you couldn't really afford to look back. When you ducked behind the wall once again to reload your pistol, you heard the sound of a much larger weapon firing and headed for your direction. 

"Y/N!!" You turned your head in the direction of the loud cry of your name, finding Loki charging toward your direction, his arms outstretched pointed at something to your right. When you looked, you were floored to be three feet away from a rocket pointed directly at you floating midair, surrounded by the unmistakable green of your boyfriend's magic. 

He made quick work to turn the trajectory around back to the shooter before running toward you and shielding you both from the explosion with his cape. "Are you alright, darling?" His hand cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek, almost making the world and the chaos around you fade away. 

"I'm fine." You held the side of his face, pulling him until his forehead was leaning against yours. "Mischief, I'm okay. Go. Finish the mission, remember?"

"You are more important to me than this mission. I'm bringing you to the exfiltration point. Now, my love." 

"We can't go. Nat's still there. Getting the serums. I have to cover her. She's my partner—"

"And you're my priority," he insisted. You gave him a look, as if pleading that he see your reason, making him sigh. "You cover Agent Romanoff. I will cover you." 

"Thank you." You pulled him towards you and he wrapped his arm around you as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "I love you." And then you turned back and began to shoot at the mercenaries again.

"I'm clear. I got the serums," Nat's voice rang through your earpiece. 

"I'm clear, too. Let's go." 

When you three got back to the Quinjet, you were greeted with one smirking Tony Stark. "You two chaotic lovebirds," he said, pointing a finger between you and Loki. "A bystander took a video of you two. Kissing. You're going viral." 

criticalhitavengers: Hold on. Y/N and Loki? Yeah. No. Hard pass. Babes you can do so much better than him. thorshammerjonathan: Loki saving Y/N from a literal missile? Hot. I approve. Loki kissing Y/N and seeing her mouth "I love you"? He should have turned the missile toward me I think a part of my soul died. Why him? I'd rather she dated Bucky than him. avengingmomma: Y/N, I'm so proud of you for becoming an Avenger but why did you have to go and date Loki? Thor was right there, sweetie. It's so disappointing to have to see you settle.

The words on the screen had barely bothered Loki until he saw the last comment. The motherly tone used to address you didn't sit right with the god, as if you were so familiar to her, and she believed that she had the right to speak to you like this. 

And to bring his brother into the conversation was below the belt. He knew that you held no affection towards his brother, and that Thor in turn held none for you beyond friendship, but the thought always haunted him that one day you would desire to be with somebody…less tainted. Someone who hadn't caused the death and destruction that he both directly and indirectly did.

Someone less hateful, less spiteful, less…Loki.

"Sweetie?" Your voice broke him out of his spiraling thoughts. "Are you alright?" 

The question poured out of him before he could stop himself. "What was your mother's name again?" 

"Audrey Y/L/N. Why? Did she do something?" Your line of questioning felt unusual, as if there was this level of distrust already between you and your mother. Even stranger, that tone gave him enough comfort to simply pass you his phone so that you could have the context behind his question. 

"It seems she has some opinions about our relationship." 

You let out a frustrated sigh. "Fucking Christ, this again? She really doesn't know when to let something go, huh." 

He took hold of your hand as you positioned yourself next to him on the bed, laying your head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around you, stroking your side gently. "What do you mean 'again', darling?" 

You handed him back his phone and draped your arm across his waist, absentmindedly starting to trace indistinguishable patterns on his skin. "She's been on this since 2012." His hand stilled its movements, fingers splaying over your stomach. "Since the Battle of New York. I was in college, and your faces were all over the news. At that time she was pestering me for not having a boyfriend and giving me a hard time over having 'impossible standards'--"

"To be fair, my love, if we will be considering our current situation, your standards seem to be a thousand years old, not of this planet, and…well, a god." His quip made you cease your pattern tracing on his skin as you held on to him tightly and tucked your face into his chest trying to muffle your laugh; meanwhile he let out his own set of chuckles as he held you tighter against him. "I would say that your standards seem difficult to reach." 

As you let out even less restrained laughs against his chest, he could feel his heart swelling with love for you. He felt such a comfort being able to speak so freely without you judging him, especially without you telling him to stop talking. And to have you receiving his words the way he intended? Listening to him? He had no inkling on whether you knew how much he treasured this very moment with you. How he wanted to immortalize it in his memory as a moment of light if ever he found himself wandering towards the darkness ever again.

When your laughter subsided, the god felt his heart pick up as you placed a kiss on his chest before asking, "Where was I again?" 

"Impossible standards," he prompted you, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips as you looked up into his eyes. 

"Right…well she saw your brother's face on the news and she said something along the lines of wanting me to end up with someone like Thor." His body went rigid at the very thought. "I told her that he wasn't my type. He was too…muscly, too clean cut, too simple. Too…Asgardian Barbie." Your analogy caused the god to break out in laughter once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "And then…she told me that if I were to ever meet any of you in person she was positivethat I would end up falling for blondie." You rolled your eyes to punctuate your opinion on your mother's botched prediction.

"And what did you tell her?" A smile grew on his face as he watched your cheeks grew pink at his question. "As much as I adore that color on your skin, my darling, now you've piqued my interest." He lightly poked your side, causing you to let out a stream of giggles. "What's going through your mind that has you so flushed, my precious little mortal?" 

"I told my mother, with my entire chest and with the adolescent indignance of my 18-year old self…Watch me meet them and end up falling for the brother." He felt like his heart had stopped at your words. He lightly grasped your chin, urging you to look at him, and he was floored at the sincerity and the love shining in your eyes. "I suppose even back then I knew." 

"Knew what?" At this point he was surprised there was even any air in his lungs.

"One look at you and I knew there were no standards. There's just you." You placed your hand on his shoulder and he pulled you closer towards him before proceeding to gently rolling you over to your back and reversing your positions. Once he was hovering over you he captured your lips with his in a tender kiss, his hand freely roaming your body, relishing in the soft muffled whimpers coming from you reacting to his touch.

"I love you," he murmured against your lips as you gasped for breath. "My darling girl." 

"And I love you, my absolutely perfect standard-defying god." You pulled him to you for another kiss. "So don't listen to anything anyone says about us. None of them matter. Not even my mother. I will love you until my final moment. The day I stop loving you is the day I stop breathing. Not a day sooner." 

Considering how inactive you were on social media, the world was floored to open Instagram one day to find a video from you, sitting in front of the simple backdrop of the black bedroom wall, with your hair down in soft waves instead of the tactical braid that most of the world saw when you were out in the field and wearing simple makeup as if you were about to make an announcement.

Which you were.

"I understand that…many of you who follow me and the rest of my fellow Avengers have been expressing your opinions about my relationship. We'd never felt the need to publicize the knowledge of said relationship, but considering the video that went viral a few days ago, we now feel the need to let it be known. Yes, I am in a relationship with Loki. And for anyone who has any strong opinions about that, I just want it out there that you can shout it to the high heavens all you want, but the fact of the matter is there's no one better, and there never will be anyone better. Not for me. 

"But in truth most of your opinions don't matter, and this video is not intended for the majority of you. This is just for one of you. Mother? Audrey? Back the fuck off. Your sentiments were annoying ten years ago and they're downright exasperating now. I am in love. And I am over the fucking moon with happiness. And nothing you say online or off is ever going to change that. But since I do have a modicum of respect left for you, I will do this." 

You tucked your hair behind your ear, making sure that there was more than ample time for the viewers to see the emerald engagement ring on your finger. Then you kept your hand tucked under your chin at such an angle that the ring was still in plain view.

"So that you don't have to be front and center of an event that you believe will be so disappointing for you, you're not coming to the wedding. You don't get to walk me down the aisle and pass me on to the man I love. That honor? Will be Thor's. Have the day you deserve." 

A/N: I've had this story planned out for a while now…like weeks ago, but the minute I decided that this untitled oneshot was going to be named 'lavender haze' because of the song from Midnights, the words started flowing and now it's finally here.

Fun fact (or not so fun fact depending how you look at it): the whole "watch me fall for the brother" is an actual thing I said to my mother back in 2012 when the first Avengers movie came out and she was hell bent on getting me to crush on Thor. So I told her "we can return to this conversation in ten years and my answer will stay the same. In fact no, we can come back to this in ten years and I'll tell you I ended up falling for Loki."

And now we're here. In 2022. Hi, Mom 🤣🤣🤣

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

Loki: @calumance

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki oneshot #muddyorbs writes

[gaysindistress]

Sad girl - thirteen

summary: James has an interesting new business proposal and one hell of a condition to deal with.

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: cursing, Bucky’s smartass, the feelings, angst, Anthony being Anthony

word count: 2k

part 12 | series masterlist

taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @angelsincident @spencerreidisagorgman @i-have-no-life-charlie @esposadomd @reader-without-a-story @unaxv  @iateall-yourcookies  @alana4610 @kandis-mom @beware-my-thorns @ozwriterchick @littlelizardlizzie @goldensunflowe-r @wh0reforbucknasty

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

The moment they arrived at Bucky’s, she had thrown open the car door before he could open it for her and brushed past him up the stairs. He had felt her anger before but this time is entirely different. There’s a budding relationship at stake now, the flower just barely peeking out of the soil and any turbulent weather would destroy it. He had to figure out a way to apologize at the very least if he wanted to save what they had, however, she isn’t going to make it easy by any means. 

“Doll, wait” he calls after her when she disappears inside. 

Steve comes out, looking back at her and then at Bucky, “Do I want to know?”

“If I’m not in my office in 15 minutes, send help,” he huffs, chasing after her inside the house. 

She hadn’t worn heels that day so there was no clicking to be heard but the heavy thuds of her boots do echo as she continues to march up to her room. Bucky’s footsteps aren’t far behind her which pisses her off even more. 

Turning on her heel now only feet away from him and catching by surprise, “Stop following me.”

“Will you just stop for a second then?”

“Why? You didn’t care at the café or in the car so what changed?” she spits with disgust. 

“You were the one who came at me first,” his nostril flared in vexation at her attitude. 

Her mocking laugh bounces off the walls, “After you pulled some shit.”

She spins away and resumes her march onward, leaving Bucky irate and fuming. He has to clench to stop himself from saying something stupid. 

“Doll this is your last warning; stop,” he demands, his voice drips with authority. 

However she doesn’t stop, throwing open her bedroom door and nearly slamming it shut but his hands stop it, rings making harsh sounds as they land on the wood. 

“I told you to stop.”

“And I told you to stop following me.”

He is on her in seconds, spinning her around so that her back meets the door. Caging her in with hands on either side of her shoulders, he stares down at her with menacing blue eyes. 

“Get. The. Fuck. Off. Of. Me” she hisses as she tries to shove him away from her. His left-hand grips both of her hands and pins them to her chest so she can’t move. 

“I asked you politely to stop once and then I had to ask again. I don’t like to repeat myself, let alone chase angry brats up the stairs,” his hot breath fans against her face, “Now are you going to behave?”

Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, “Are you going to get off of me?” A sinister chuckle leaves his mouth as he continues to stare down at her, “No, now don’t make me repeat myself.”

A quiet ‘okay’ comes from her, soft under the harsh gaze of the mercenary. She’s never seen his menacing side up close before and it was terrifying to see the gentleman she’s come to know act this way. 

“Good girl. Before you decided to be a brat, I was trying to apologize for setting up that meeting with Anthony. I should’ve talked to you about it beforehand but as we know, you don’t like to do as I say so I had to make an executive decision.”

She tries to speak but his free hands clasp over her mouth so she can’t. 

“I’m not done speaking,” he pauses to ensure she’s listening, “I had hoped that my goodbye would’ve turned out differently but I guess we don’t get what we want sometimes. I have to leave early for Washington D.C. for an emergency meeting. I was going to surprise you with a weekend away but I don’t think you deserve it. Regardless there will be a party Friday honoring Steve, Sam, and me, and you will be joining me. Nat has all of the details and will keep an eye on you while I’m gone. Do you think you can behave until then?”

Every fiber in her body is on fire with anger and lust but mostly anger at his demeaning words. Men like him are every inch of dangerous they seem to be and it was stupid of her to assume he wouldn’t use his power over her as he is now. She wants to slap him to set him straight but she’s not in the position to make any power moves. Instead, she nods and resists the urge to spit at him when he moves his hand away. 

“Good girl, Doll. Remember if anything happens, Nat will tell me.” 

“I’m aware,” the slight challenge is enough to make him smirk but not enough for him to reassert his dominance. He releases her hands and backs away. 

“While you’re out dress shopping, make sure to get matching wedding rings. I planned for us to do it together but it looks like that won’t happen.”

“Do you want a simple one or one to match the size of your ego?”

“Whatever you pick will be just fine, Doll,” he kisses her forehead which should be a sweet gesture but is really just a callback to the first time he did it; a move to show he’s in control. 

________________________________________________________________

A week is plenty of time to plot your revenge against an asshole husband who had tried to control you and treated you like some stupid housewife, right? It seems as though it is just the right amount of time for her to plot her revenge. There are several ways she could go about this however the best option is the one he least expects. 

During her week, true to his word, Nat hadn’t left her side and was always within a three-foot radius of her. When Doll moved, Nat moved. It was a bit exhausting however she did like her so it made for a fast week. Their first outing had been to find rings which proved to be harder than they had anticipated. 

They had found her ring within half an hour, a 3-carat eternity band to match her 3-carat solitaire radiant engagement ring. Finding Bucky’s, however, took nearly an hour. 

“What about this one?” Nat had been holding up a simple black band when she’d asked Doll. 

“No, that's too simple. We need something just big enough that it’s annoying,” she’d replied as the jewelry counter person gave them both weird looks. 

“Ah, I see. What about this one?” This time she’d held up a ring that looked like it belonged to a football player who had won the Super Bowl. 

“Jesus he might actually kill me if I showed up with that,” Doll laughed as she continued to search. 

Both of their eyes went on the same ring; a silver signet ring much like the one he already wore.

“Excuse me, can this be engraved and how long will it take?” 

“Yes Madam it can be engraved and for you, we could have it ready in two days,” the French jeweler said as they took the ring and began the process of checking the women out. 

Nat rolled her eyes as Doll made sure that Bucky would feel her revenge. 

________________________________________________________________

He had tried to text, call, and even facetime her while he was away but she barely answered. His messages were met with short responses, his calls either declined or lasted less than five minutes, and she only picked up his facetime call once. Steve harassed him endlessly about how whipped he was and how he needed to get over the honeymoon phase already. He was met with legendary side eyes and one-word commands from the brooding mercenary. 

At this rate, he would be surprised if she even showed up. His only confirmation that she was alive and still planned on coming to D.C. was Nat’s updates. The latest of which had been a secretive picture of Doll trying on dresses for the gala. She was trying on a red floor-length dress that was a halter top with an open back. The caption that accompanied it said: “She hates the red. Any color suggestions?”

“The red looks the best.”

“Are you even trying to get on her good side? Pick a different color and I won’t tell her what you said.”

“Fine black is her signature color.”

“You’re the worst. Remind me to never take you shopping.”

If Nat kept sending him pictures, he might hop on a plane back to New York and beg for forgiveness on his knees.

________________________________________________________________

“I don’t know Nat. I’m not really feeling the red but I can’t go with black because that’s too obvious. What about blue? Or white?”

Nat lounges in the boutique’s chair, phone on her lap as if she wasn’t secretly sending pictures to Bucky. Doll fiddles with the sides of the dress she’s currently wearing, turning in every direction to get a better look. 

“For someone who claims to not care what he thinks, you’re sure doing a lot of worrying.”

“And you’re terrible at hiding the fact that you’re taking pictures.”

“It’s for safety reasons,” she tries while taking another picture, this time not even trying to hide it. 

“As in you’re tired of Bucky blowing up your phone, asking for updates so you’re voluntarily sending him pictures to get him to stop,” Doll says as she steps off the pedestal and heads to the dressing room. 

“He’s getting really irritated that you’re not answering his messages or calls, ya know? Ignoring him isn’t going to make him any nicer the next time you see him,” Nat calls after her. 

“Ignoring him is a welcomed side effect of planning my revenge. Black or white?”

“Bucky says black.”

“White it is.”

Nat chuckles at the other woman as she goes back to her phone. Stepping back out of the dressing room, she’s wearing another floor-length gown that’s white with feathers across the top. 

“Mmmmm,” she hums as she adjusts the top, “No. The white is too bright.”

“Isn’t that what you want though? To be the center of attention?”

“If I wanted that, I would just show up naked.”

Nat chokes on the champagne she is sipping and has to cough as she looks over at Doll, phone to her ear. Doll starts laughing at her reaction but it quickly dies off when she sees the phone in Nat’s hand and the horrified look on her face. 

“I don’t know what did you hear?” Nat says into the phone, “Hm I think you need hearing aids. We’re almost done here and then we’ll be headed back to your place to pack. Goodbye.”

“You are going to get yourself into big trouble,” she points at the other woman with a warning. 

“How was I supposed to know you were on the phone? You didn’t warn me.”

“I don’t have to tell you every time I’m on the phone. Hurry up before he shows up at the house, ready to fight someone.” 

She sticks her tongue out at Nat as she walks back to the dressing rooms once again. Neither woman say anything as she changes into the last dress. The second white dress was not her first choice but it’s looking like it might be her only choice. Sliding it up her body, the sleeveless mermaid gown had a corset top the wraparound style and central slit gave it the elegance she was looking for. The corset has horizontal draperies that gracefully accentuate her shape and to top it off, it has a small and neat train. 

“Nat,” her sing-song voice flows through the air as she waltzes back to the mirrors. 

“My my Mrs. Barnes, don’t you look dazzling?” the other woman fiends fainting at the sight of her. 

“I think this is the one.” 

“I agree,” Nat pauses to glance at her phone, “and your rings are ready so let’s get out of here.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #mob au #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky barnes x reader #sad girl - bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

[questionableratatouille00]

listen I know I already made a post like this but what are we thinking in a post moving on future

jolly sailor bold: mermaid reader x pirate/mercenary Bucky Barnes. Filled with lore, including Mt wundagore, Asgardian stuff, royalty, and magic. Pretty cool

you’ve caught a stray: not an au but certainly not canon compliant. Reader moves away from DC post SHIELD crash, to a farm in West Virginia owned by a family member who doesn’t live there. Anyway, their only neighbor is Bucky (who suffers from extreme agoraphobia post-HYDRA). They fall in love over a series of chaotic events and it’s pretty cool.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes whump #bucky #river ratatouille rambles

[thesugarclubs-blog]

A Shot to the Heart - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: mr & mrs smith vibes, injuries, hurt x comfort, hospital stay

word count: 6.9k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1431325298-a-shot-to-the-heart-florence

vibe: "How are you feeling?" he asked, "You had me so worried, baby girl."

"Like I was hit by Mjolnir," she tried to smile weakly. She tried to lift her head but stopped, wincing and groaning.

Masterlist

It was quiet. Too quiet.

His target’s villa was supposed to be littered with bodyguards, even as Bucky made his way silently through the hallway leading to the man selling the latest deadly drug on the market, something felt off about the silence.

He’d encountered almost no resistance.

His heartbeat was thrumming steadily in his ears as he neared the main bedroom, the door beckoning him like a bullseye. His steps were quiet as he closed one fist around the handle while the other tightened on his trusty blade. 

The door didn’t make a sound as he opened it and slipped through it, closing it swiftly as his ears caught the faint sound of music. Bucky’s brows furrowed as he inched closer to the noise leaking through the spacious wing. His intel was solid, he’d been monitoring the French-Algerian mercenary for a month now.

Batroc had a set routine; hide in plain sight while making connections with the local higher ups of the island he was currently hiding in, stay in his villa to host parties on the weekends, and he was always alone on weekdays. He even went to bed early.

Which is why Bucky was confused as to why he was awake– apparently with a companion from the sounds of seductive music filtering in through the walls, when he was supposed to be sleeping. The job was supposedly an easy in-and-out.

Pulling his gun with the silencer attached, he held the two weapons and decided to spring into action with quick steps only for his feet to stop at the sight of a very familiar body swaying seductively in front of a dazed looking French asshole. The woman’s back was to Bucky while she slowly stripped off a trench coat and dropped it to the floor. The blood rushing through his veins was boiling hot but not because of the black corset that was painted on her every delicious curve. No, it was because that body with a distinctive constellation of birthmarks on the back belonged to his wife.

Betrayal. Anger. White hot rage burned everywhere.

“Florence? What the fuck?!”

"Bucky," a tiny whisper left her lips, whether it was annoyance or surprise, Bucky wasn't quite sure. 

His eyes flickered between Florence and Batroc, a dangerous man now with the upper hand as his realization clicked into place that he was in danger.

"Guards!" He bellowed, scrambling up from his seated position and tumbling over the side. Within seconds four sets of boots were rushing down the hall at them. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" She whipped around on her stilettos. Clicking across the floor toward Batroc as she swiped her jacket from the floor, but it wasn't the jacket that came up in her hands, it was a slim, black pistol. Poised to kill. 

"What am I doing here?" Bucky growled, slamming the thin doors closed behind him. They wouldn't keep the guards out but it would buy them some time. "You're a  kindergarten teacher!" The shock was settling in, grasping a hold of any rational thoughts he might have had coming into this mission. "What are you doing here?" He kicked his boot against the couch and sent it flying up against the doors, barricading them inside.

“Listen, clearly we need to talk but this really isn’t the time, Bucky.” 

Bucky stared at her bewildered, struggling to wrap his head around what his sweet, civilian wife was doing in the home of a French mercenary.

“No shit, sweetheart,” he hissed, head snapping at the sound of quickening footsteps and growing shouts. “Can you run in those?” He asked, pointing to her shoes. 

“You know I can. I take it this is a normal Tuesday for you so what’s the plan?”

“Normal Tuesday,” He scoffed “I’ll talk to you about a normal Tuesday you just w-”

“James!” Bucky’s mumbles were cut off by Florence’s exasperated voice piercing through his ears, “not now.”

He shook his jumbled thoughts from his head as he found her eyes and nodded sharply, turning towards the door and pushing her just slightly behind him as he braced himself for the incursion. 

“What are you doing?” She hissed. 

“Florence just,” 

Both their heads turned to the sounds of Batroc clambering to open a window on the far left side of the room. He watched her in complete awe, mouth agape as she raised her gun and pulled the trigger, the bullet piercing straight through his hand. 

“You were saying?” 

“Just, do exactly that I guess,” He turned back towards the sounds closing in on them and back to her, not a sliver of trepidation in her beautiful chestnut eyes. “And don’t get hurt, please.” His brows knit in worry before he took a steadying breath and turned away once more.

Florence scoffed as she stalked over to where Batroc lay on the ground, clutching his wrist and moaning painfully. She bent over, displaying her ass and the length of her legs, which had Bucky moaning almost as loud as his target but for an entirely different reason. His distraction was soon over as his wife scooped up her jacket and slipped it on before turning to Batroc once more.

“Where are the files, you piece of shit,” she hissed, pressing one stilettoed foot against his throat.

“Wait a second,” Bucky interrupted. “Files? What files?”

He saw his wife release a sigh of annoyance as she pressed the heeled foot into Batroc's chest now, making him wince in pain when her heel dug deep.

"I would say it's classified but..." she gave Bucky a wickedly brilliant smile over her shoulder that almost had him forgetting he was angry.

"...I'm guessing you're here for the same reason, my love. I want the files on the new drug he has circling around."

"I was sent to take him out," Bucky narrowed his eyes. 

Florence rolled her shoulders and dug her heel deep into his chest as he tried to squirm away, mumbling something about internal communication under her breath. 

"You were never supposed to find out this way." She looked up at him. Regret painted across her beautiful face. 

Bucky opened his mouth to respond when the door behind him flew open and three men crashed into the room with their weapons drawn. He was quick on the first, grabbing his gun hand and slamming it against the door frame painfully and with enough force to snap the man's arm in half before kicking him backward out into the hallway. 

"This conversation isn't over!" He grunted, taking a gunshot to his vibranium arm. It shuddered in response, curling up and rebounding the bullet away. "You guys never learn." He hauled back his arm, the plates shifting and clicking before making contact. The man yelped and stumbled backward, dropping his gun and clutching his crushed face as Bucky stalked him. 

A gunshot rang out in the room, Bucky turning only to catch the third man crumbling to the floor, a leaking hole through his temple. 

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Florence quipped with a shrug of her slender shoulders. 

"Ren!" Bucky barked as a second shot echoed. Batroc's bloody hand curled around the handle aimed at Florence. Bucky slammed his boot against the throat of the second guard, rendering him unconscious as Florence exhaled a shaky breath and her fingers found the blood that poured from her shoulder. 

"You shot me!" She groaned loudly, turning on Batroc and laying a swift, hard kick across his face. Clipping his arm in the motion, his gun went sliding across the room as more footsteps pounded down the hallway toward them. "We need to..." her words faltered and so did her step as the color drained from her face.

Bucky's eyes widened and he rushed forward, adrenaline pumping furiously through his veins as he reached for Florence. She glanced down at the blood pooling from the bullet hole and swayed, stumbling for the wall as Bucky swiftly caught her. He pressed his fingers to her shoulder, trying to staunch the wound. 

"Fuck! Florence, sweetheart, you gotta stay with me long enough for us to get out of here. Think you can do that for me?" He murmured as he tried to tamper down the rising panic. Never mind that she'd lied to him, if anything happened to her he'd lose it.  

"Huh?" Florence hummed, glassy eyes meeting his. 

"We gotta get out of here, Ren. I gotta get you out of here."

"Batroc..." she mumbled but Bucky couldn't dart his eyes away from her while he tried to hold her upright.

"I don't give a fuck about Batroc. All I care about is you right now, pretty girl." Her weight was getting heavier in his arms and he forced himself to look around for any other danger. He wouldn't risk her getting hurt again only because he let his emotions take over for a short moment.

Instead of using the advantage, Batroc was glued to the floor in front of them, the gun still in his bloody hand. Bucky's eyes narrowed and he shot the French a death glare that normally was reserved for Red Wing. 

"You!" he started, adjusting his grip around Florence's middle while his vibranium hand reached into the holster that was securing multiple knives to his thigh.

"Merde," Batroc hissed, spinning around and trying to open the window behind him with his good hand. Bucky flicked the knife and it pierced effortlessly through Batroc's hand, making him grunt in pain.

“No-one. Touches. My. Wife.” Bucky growled through gritted teeth, shoving down the urge to make the mercenary’s last meal a mouth full of vibranium.

A gentle touch to his cheek brought him back to himself and he looked down at his precious burden, who stared at him with a look of utter adoration.

“That was really hot,” she slurred but then her eyes rolled backward and her lids fluttered closed, her hand falling from his face as she slipped into unconsciousness.

“Ren, REN! Shit!” Bucky hissed as he held her tighter, running out of the room as carefully as he could.

“Medic, we need…agent down…shot. I need her…just…help…” he babbled into his comm, his voice cracking as he tried to relay the information.

The response confirming they heard him and help is on the way was muted by the chaos around them both.

"Fuck! Just– just hang on baby, I'll get you out of here." 

He told Florence, trying to keep her concious enough to get them out of there safely. Her body was getting heavier in Bucky's arms as he carried her and maneuvered around the room with shots coming from every direction and headed to the only exit available; the window.

Peering out once he was close enough, Bucky tightened his grip on Florence. All he could see was a thin ledge running along the outside of the villa, the one Batroc must have clung to before climbing in through the window. There was no way he would be able to balance on that with his wife in his arms, or use it to leverage himself down further. 

The drop wasn't huge, but he still didn't like the idea of jumping, not with Florence fading in and out, her blood seeping into his own tac jacket, hot and sticky, as he held her closer. She groaned softly, skin pale and dewy with sweat. 

"It's alright, pretty girl. I got you," he gritted out just as a shot whistled past him, shattering the plaster of the wall in front of them. "Fuck. Okay, we gotta go. Hold on tight, Ren. S'gonna be okay." 

Bucky heaved himself up onto the window ledge, glancing once behind him. Pressing his lips into Florence's hair, he put his focus on his landing point and counted down quietly before jumping.

“Just… fo- for the record… I’m as ba- badass as you,” she mumbled, a ghost of a smile dancing on her lips. 

“Shhh. Save your energy, baby. You can show me all your badass-ness later.” He couldn’t stop his heart from going haywire. 

Boot steps were echoing through the room he just climbed out of and while tightening his one arm around Florence, he held his gun through the window with the other, shooting completely blind. To his own surprise he heard the thud of a body right after the ringing of the shot vanished in his ears. 

With quick head movements he scanned their surroundings.

Pressing them up against the wall of the villa, he took a glance back down at Florence and his heart sank even further when he saw she’d slipped back into unconsciousness.

Quickly sliding along the wall and back around to his entry point he blinked away the tears that threatened to cloud his vision as he rasped against the lump that had formed in his throat.

“I know you’d have made that jump, pretty girl, even in heels. God, I’m so proud of you, I mean, I was before too, wrangling toddlers needs nerves of steel but…I’m rambling, sweetness, I know, I’m sorry. I just want you to wake up.”

He sniffled loudly and carefully adjusted the long leather jacket around his wife’s lingerie-clad form, making sure she wouldn’t get too chilled.

He took a glance to the left and right before dashing across the villa’s courtyard and towards the side gate where he’d entered not ten minutes before.

Reaching his car, Bucky laid Florence delicately in the passenger seat, as if she were made of glass, before climbing behind the wheel and setting off in the direction of his rendezvous point, hoping beyond hope that the med-evac would get there in time.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as Bucky drove. Voices over his comm directed him where he needed to go but it all seemed to fade in the background as images of their life together flashed before him. The night they met, their wedding...Bucky felt a pang of hurt in his chest when his mind raised the question of if any of it was real. 

Saddened blue eyes flickered to his wife, her chest barely rising and falling with her shallow breaths. Waking her up would mean having to face the fact that their relationship he thought was built on honesty and truth was tainted with a secret so big it got her hurt. 

After a few sharp turns and questionable roads he spotted the med-evac waiting for them just beyond the brush. Bucky quickly threw the car into park and slid his wife from the vehicle, her soft groans and whimpers only shattered off pieces of his heart the more he jostled her around. "You're gonna get through this." He whispered into her hair. "Don't you die on me Ren."

"Sergeant Barnes! Sergeant!" 

The shouts made the woman in his arms flinch for a moment as he turned to see a handful of people coming towards him, carrying all kinds of medical aid.

"Sergeant Barnes! What happened?" One of them questioned while he rushed to get her on the stretcher they laid for her. His wife's whimpers of pain pierced through his heart as they started to undress her from the top to see the wound.

"Be careful with her," Bucky whispered. Not really paying attention to anything else but the love of his life as he cradled her pale face in his palms.

"Sergeant? May I ask who this is?" An agent accompanying the medical team asked in a careful tone, "we were not informed there would be anyone else but you, sir." 

He didn't answer. He didn't know how to even begin to explain the situation when his head was swarmed with questions of his own. 

Another pained whimper left Ren's mouth, this one louder and breaking through his thoughts.

"I said be fucking careful!" Bucky seethed at the medic.

The woman's eyes flicked to him but her expression remained passive as she examined the bullet wound, unaffected by his anger. He supposed they had to be. 

"It was a through and through, but she's lost a lot of blood," Bucky explained,  "just-- fuck, you gotta save her." 

"We'll do our best, Sergeant. Are you travelling back with us?" 

It took a second for the medic's words to catch up and he glowered, stepping closer with his vibranium hand balled into a fist.

"I'm sorry? You'll do your best? You fucking save her and that's an order." 

"Sergeant, stand down," a voice piped up amongst the fray just as the medic murmured out a weak, "yes, Sarge."

The medic started to put ECG electrodes all over Florence‘s upper body and Bucky‘s eyes darted over to the monitor to see how his wife was doing.

Her heart was beating regularly, but slower than usual. The sound of her normal, steady heartbeat while he had his head resting on her chest was burned into his brain.

He struggled more and more to keep the concern at bay, but when they placed the cuff around her good arm and he saw how low her blood pressure was, his heart ached and he was sure someone was tightening a rope around his chest. 

“Do something,” he whispered, his eyes wandering to Ren‘s unconscious face. She looked almost peaceful, like she was sleeping. And she was so fucking beautiful even with her paled skin and sweat all over her face. He’d been the luckiest man on earth that she chose him all those years ago. At least he thought he was, until today when his world was turned upside down.

“You listen to me, Florence Barnes,” he gritted, shouldering a poor medic out of the way as he leaned towards his wife’s ear. “I know we said in sickness and in health but this is taking things a bit too far now, don’t you think?”

The medics eyed each other in shock and surprise, one mouthing his wife?! at the others before they doubled-down their efforts to stabilise the fallen agent.

“Baby, you just gotta…fight…you know? I know I’m an absolute train wreck, ha, but I need you, Ren, I need you so much.”

A harsh beep from the equipment had the medics moving even more frantically as one of them turned to Bucky and grabbed his elbow.

“With all due respect, Sergeant, move, now!”

Bucky glared down at the medic, wrenching his arm out of their grasp. "Save Her.” 

The medic gave him a solemn nod before Bucky stepped back and let them get to work. He watched from the edge of the bay, pacing every few moments before stopping whenever they'd start barking orders at each other. He knew enough medical terminology to patch a bullet wound, but anything deeper than that he was foggy. It felt like his heart wanted to explode out of his chest until a familiar voice came over his comms. 

"Florence! Buck you brought Florence on a mission with you what the hell man!" Sam's angry voice echoed through his ear. 

"I didn't bring her." Bucky muttered as he stared at his wife. 

"What did you just say?" 

"She was already there."

“The fuck? Man what the hell is goin’ on?!” 

“Fuck if I know, Sam,” Bucky replied. 

He hated this, the helpless feeling he never thought he’d experience with Florence. The worst case scenario played out in his head as he watched on — he would have to tell her family, her kids, fuck, who wants to tell a bunch of kindergarteners their teacher died? He let himself wonder briefly what song she would want played and that’s when he broke. A sob worked its way up his throat, his bottom lip quivering. 

“Hey,” Sam’s voice came again, softer this time. “She’s still here, Buck. She’s gonna fight and you gotta be strong for her.” 

Bucky nodded, sure Sam could probably see him somehow, and wiped his eyes just as a medic approached him tentatively. 

“Sergeant, we have her stabilised but we need to leave now, are you coming with us?”

“Yeah, yeah” He whispered, clearing his throat. “Sammy,” 

“I’ll see you two in a few Buck, we’re not losing her. That’s a promise.” 

Sam’s voice faded into static as he disconnected on his end and with that Bucky took out his earpiece with a disheartened huff as he made his way to the med-evac. 

When they reached the van’s double doors he paused, taking a deep breath before the agent next to him spoke. 

“Sir, we’re not too far from base and we’ve got her covered until we get there. Would you like to ride alone with her in the back?” The blonde smiled sympathetically as he raised his eyes from the road to meet hers. 

“Is that safe? I don’t- I need her to be okay,” 

“I can jump back if needed but she’s stable for right now. She does need to go into surgery as soon as we get to base, so you know,” 

“As long as you save her, anything.” He whispered before adding. “I apologize for my outburst, agent.” 

“Understandable. I hope you don’t mind my saying but, I think we can all agree you’ve lost enough in your life already, Sergeant. We’ll do everything we can.” 

Bucky nodded, holding back tears as his heart clenched tightly in his chest before stepping inside the cabin, settling gently in the bench beside the stretcher where his entire soul lay still.

He could make out a thick bandage secured with tape over Florence‘s shoulder, her arm bent and held by a makeshift sling. 

“You can grab her hand if you want to. Show her that you’re here by her side,” the medic suggested but Bucky hesitated.

“I don’t… I don’t want to hurt her,“ he mumbled, struggling more and more to hold back the tears that made his vision blurry. He needed her to be safe in an OR at the base before he would let himself fall apart. 

“You won’t. She’s a fighter, that's for sure.” the blond smiled again. Bucky reached out a shaking hand and grabbed Ren‘s small one in his. He’d done that thousand times before but today everything was different. His thumb brushed over the top of her hand before he pulled it close and placed a tender kiss on each of her knuckles.

And despite his best efforts, in this moment Bucky let the emotions break him. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he breathed “I love you” and “Please don’t leave me” shakily on her skin over and over again.

By the time they’d arrived at the base and whisked Florence into surgery Sam had landed. He stalked over to Bucky, his wings still in the process of folding, and wrapped the super soldier in his arms. 

Bucky shattered. 

He didn’t think he’d cried that much or that hard since the night that Ayo had taken him into the Wakandan bush. His friend murmured platitudes in his ear and stroked his back, holding him as tight as he needed to feel grounded again. It was only when Bucky’s sobs finally subsided that Sam let him go, leading him over to some hard plastic chairs that were bolted to the floor.

Bucky slumped into one, his elbows on his knees as he rested his head in his hands, clutching at his hair in desperation.

“Why was she even there, Sam?” He asked weakly.

“I did some digging on the way over, called some people. Ren’s one of us, man. She’s an agent,” Sam said gently, leaning forwards to try and catch Bucky’s eye.

“I figured,” Bucky mumbled, his words almost slurring together, “but…but…how?!”

“Sleeper agent,” Sam tried to clarify. “Trained with SHIELD, and then reintegrated into society when it fell. Her job is legitimate, she is actually a qualified kindergarten teacher, but her backstory is…crafted and she’s called on when she’s needed for a job. Obviously this was one of those times,” Sam shrugged, looking almost as confused as Bucky.

"How the hell did I not know? For years?" Bucky muttered. 

"She's still Ren, Buck." Sam said. "What you guys had was still real. You know how this works." 

"She lied Sam." He glanced over at him, "she knew about me. Hell, she knows everything." 

Sam let out a sigh as he leaned back into the chair, "and you know how SHIELD is."

"I just don't get why she couldn't tell me. What difference would it have made?" 

Sam chuckled lowly and somehow Bucky knew exactly what he was going to say. 

"You can't honestly tell me that if you knew she was an agent, you wouldn't have pulled some over-protective bullshit every time she was called up on a mission?" 

"She's my wife, Sam. I made a promise to keep her safe. After everything, the least I can do is keep the love of my life safe. She had no back up in there, I would have seen them if she did." 

"Head over heart, man," Sam murmured, "it's the core rule of this job." 

Bucky huffed, eyes on the double doors that led to Florence. The waiting was unbearable, the longer he had to think, the worse his thoughts became. 

"That's a fuckin' stupid rule," he muttered, pushing to his feet when the need to move, to do anything but sit still, took over.

Bucky stalked to the double doors leading to the ORs before turning back to Sam. "Why send us separately to the same target with separate missions though? It's hard enough to accept Ren's an agent but," his voice wavered. Shaking his head, he stalked past Sam and towards the external doors.

"Hey man, where are you going?" Sam called after him, "Bucky, stop, Ren needs you here." He chased after Bucky and, placing his hand on his shoulder, his friend stilled. "You need to be here, Bucky. Ren needs you."

"I need answers Sam, I could have gotten her killed by bursting in when I did. Someone's fucked up big time and I've got to find out who!"

Any further argument was lost as the doors opened before them and a doctor appeared.  Both men eyed him warily and there was a moment of silence so profound that they could hear the subtle whir of the plates in Bucky’s arm as his fingers twisted nervously together.

“Doc?” He croaked, needing to know but not wanting to hear.

“Sergeant Barnes, your wife’s out of surgery. We cleaned up the wound and stopped the bleeding. We’re giving her medication for the pain and some additional blood but taken her off sedation. She should wake up soon.” He paused, seeing the incomprehension on Bucky’s face. “Your wife’s going to be ok, Sergeant.”

Bucky barely grunted his thanks before pushing through the doors behind the doctor in search of his wife.

His hand trembled against the door of her room, everyone seemed to disappear around him as he came to a halt. He could hear them talking to him, at him but none of it mattered. Ren was on the other side of that door and he wasn't sure he would ever be ready to face what condition she was in. 

As the adrenaline settled and his thoughts started to slow down the guilt and grief seemed to flood in. 

"Do you want me to go first?" Sam asked from his side, the only voice that cut through the static. 

"No," Bucky shook his head and inhaled deeply before pushing the door open and wandering inside. The faint beeping of machines and the smell of cleaning solution clouded his senses. Florence lay in the middle of the tubes and machines, so still it made his heart constrict in his chest. He hated it. "Oh baby," He sunk down on the side of the bed and rested his head against her hand, taking a moment to forget about his anger and frustration and to just worry about her.

Sam slowly made his way around the bed and rubbed Bucky's back. "I'm sorry, man," he murmured softly. "But she'll make it. Florence is one heck of a tough girl." 

Bucky raised his head and looked at her, she looked so small in that bed, and her face was so pale. Despite all the tubes and wires, the beeping of the monitors was kind of reassuring. "She has to put up with me," he responded, "but when she left the house this morning..." He gulped and shook his head again. "How did I miss this, Sam? Some fucking super soldier I am."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Buck," Sam replied quietly as he gave Bucky's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You good here? Or do you want me to stay for a while?" 

Bucky heaved a sigh, eyes never straying from Florence as the thought about his answer. He reached across the bed to brush a stray hair from her face, fingertips lingering. She had more colour in her face now, cheeks warm and pink, but Bucky still found himself begging for movement -- a flicker of her eyelids, twitch of her mouth.

"I'm alright," he breathed after a moment. "Can you stick around the base though, as soon as she's fit for transport I wanna get her back to the compound and I want you travelling with us." 

"Course, man. Give me a shout if you need me." 

Bucky listened as the doors swung closed and the room fell into an eerie quiet save for the beeping of machines and Florence's steady breaths.

Reaching up carefully, he wrapped his hand around hers, tangling their fingers together. "What the hell were you doing there?" He whispered to her, knowing she wouldn't answer. At least not right now. Confusion and anger wrapped around his insides the longer he watched her sleep. A thousand unanswered questions plagued his mind and only caused more tiny little fractures in his heart.

It confused to no end why she didn't tell him, why she wasn't honest with him about this part of her life. His wife almost never lied to him— intentionally or not. 

Didn't she trust him? Did she think this kind of a secret could be kept forever? What if—

The twitch of her hand in his cut off his destructive train of thought. Ren's eyes were flickering open and closed causing Bucky's heart to still as he willed her chocolate eyes to open and reassure him that she was okay. Her hand tightened only slightly around his fingers and her head turned slowly in his direction, the softest smile graced her lips as she settled again, eyes closed but her posture more peaceful.

"Just be okay," he whispered. Leaning in to pepper kisses on the hand cradled in his while tears stung his eyes.

"We'll figure out the rest."

Bucky sat in that room for hours, going back and forth on what he would say to her the moment she woke. The doctors came and went and his impatience grew with every passing second and annoying beep or question. 

He wanted answers, he wanted his wife. 

He didn't know what he wanted but he knew if Steve had been there he'd have the answer and that only made him more angry. He had moved on, he had worked so hard to find a person that could understand him the way Steve had and it felt like a lie. He knew better than to believe that, he trusted Florence with everything so short of her being assigned to him and their entire marriage being a ruse. Nothing she would say could convince him she didn't love him too. He had felt her love every single time she was near him. So patient and delicate as he worked through so much unforeseen trauma. 

"Come back to me baby," he whispered from trembling, exhausted lips.

Time dragged and the monotonous beep became the background noise to his cheek pressed to Florence’s arm, resting his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been dozing when he heard it, the soft croak of a voice he’d been dreaming of somewhere above him. 

“Bu- Buck?” 

Bucky snapped his head up.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured as Florence tried to speak again, her eyes fluttering open.  “Shh. Shh, hang on, baby. Lemme get you some water.” 

He propped her bed up a little before guiding the straw to her dry lips. 

“I was shot,” she whispered once she was done. “Fuck.” 

Bucky chuckled, cradling her cheek delicately and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, "You had me so worried, baby girl."

"Like I was hit by Mjolnir," she tried to smile weakly. She tried to lift her head but stopped, wincing and groaning.

"Stay still," Bucky admonished, "you almost died today." Florence closed her eyes and took a breath before looking at Bucky's hand on hers, she twisted her fingers to take his wedding ring and begin turning it.

"You weren't meant to find out this way, Buck. I never meant for this to happen."

He sucked into a breath and shook his head, his hand tightening in hers for a moment, "why didn't you tell me?" 

Her eyes found his and his heart dropped seeing the hesitation in her features. Ren's lips parted to say something before all that came out was a breath.

"Please tell me." 

He begged in a hushed tone, trying to have the patience to manage her fragile state while pushing away doubts and fears of his own. 

"This was the first mission I've been put on since we got married, Buck. I thought.." her voice trailed off and she bit her lip nervously. 

"I thought I was done with that part of my life. I told my superior that I was off the day we met, I didn't want to do that anymore." Ren continued, the words rushing out with the rising frustration clear in her eyes. 

He didn't understand. Bucky's eyes were searching her own but there was nothing but sincerity and anguish as Florence delivered the final punch to the gut.

"We met while I was on an assignment, and I just.. quit. Or so I thought." She mumbled the last part as her fingers dug into his palm as if willing him to believe her.

"So why this case? Why lie?" Bucky searched for answers to help make sense of her explanation. 

"It wasn't my choice," She moved uncomfortably, just trying to close the gaps between them. "I couldn't tell you and when they call," she stopped. 

"You go." Bucky knew that well, there was always another war to fight, another bad guy to bring down. It never ended and someone always came looking for help. It's not that he didn't want to, but he was tired and looking at Florence he had thought he found his haven from that. Someone who would never need him in that way but now... "I'm not mad you," he said. "I know it seems like I am but," he rolled his fingers over her cheek. "Tell me and don't lie to me. Was I ever a mission?" 

"No," she answered without hesitation. "Never. Not once, they never even tried to take that route. It's why I quit in the first place."

"It was never going to be easy for me, was it?" Bucky murmured sadly and Florence made a little wounded sound as she brought his hand to her lips. "Makes sense that I'd fall in love with someone whose seen just as much bloodshed as me." 

"Is that such a bad thing?" Florence countered. Bucky let out a shaky breath. "C'mere." Bucky scooted closer as she pressed soft kisses to his knuckles before turning his hand and kissing his palm. With her eyes closed, her long eyelashes fanned out over her cheeks and she looked every bit the angel she is. 

"I never wanted you to see that side of me, of my job, Ren. Not first hand, not like this." 

"I don't care, Bucky. I've always known who you are and what you do and I married you anyway. And besides, it was my job too. I knew I could have handled anything you decided to show me."

"You may not care, but I care!" His voice raised and almost broke. He pulled his hand away as he stood, the chair flew back abruptly and came to rest against the wall. Ren winced at his raised voice but knew with confidence that he'd never hurt her.

Bucky had begun to pace the room. "You're my angel, it's my job to protect you, to keep you safe...." His hands fisted his hair, "My whole world relies on the normality and routine of our lives...." He looked at her for the first time since he stood up. "This blows everything I believed we had out of the water."

"I'm still me!" She yelled, "I'm still the woman you fell in love with and I'm still the woman who is in love with you James Barnes." 

His face crumpled for a moment as he stared at her. 

"Now I am not throwing years of marriage away because of this. *I am not going anywhere*." Her brows furrowed as those big brown eyes looked up at him. Those eyes he tripped in the first time he saw her. Stumbling over his words, his heart racing with every moment she spared him and that smile. God that smile lit up every dark corner of his mind the first time he saw it. "Are you?" Her voice cracked softly as they watched each other. Both expecting to make a decision. 

Bucky let out a long drawn out breath and shook his head. "No."

A weak, teary laugh escaped her and Bucky's heart broke over the sound.

"Good. Because you're stuck with me," she announced. "One injured shoulder won't keep me away from you." She told him, trying to smile through the tension and tears pooling in her eyes.

He couldn't stay away from her any longer when she buried her face in her hands and started crying, the soft sniffling and hiccups coming from her had Bucky closer in a heartbeat, his arms enveloping the love of his life gently. Protectively.

"I'm telling them I'm out for good," Florence mumbled into his chest, her voice thick. 

"Are you sure? I know you said--" 

"Yes. Fuck, Bucky. I don't want to do this anymore. I wanted normal too, you know. I wanted to *be* your normal, your safe space. I want to keep coming home to you and telling you stupid stories about my kids, I want to keep having lazy weekends with you and late night grocery store runs." 

Bucky laughed wetly, pressing a kiss into her hair, careful of her shoulder as he held her tighter. 

"I want that too," he whispered, "just, no more secrets, sweetheart, I don't think my old heart could take it."

They sat quietly, as if counting their blessings, murmuring their wishes and promises for their lives moving forward, everything now out in the open.

They were interrupted by a rapping at the door and both of them turned as it opened. Sam poked his head through. "I was just checking in, Bucky..." he began. "Oh thank god you're awake, Ren, Bucky was out of his mind..."

"Is there any wonder?" Bucky retorted, turning back to Ren. "I thought I'd lost you for sure."

"I've told you, I'm not going anywhere, Buck. We're going to grow old together," Florence smiled, moving to sit up. "Ooh that fucking smarts."

"I'm sure you're due some more pain relief by now," Sam responded. "Let me go find the doc to sort you out, and start arranging  for the airlift home."

Bucky watched Sam leave before turning back to Ren. A soft grin spread across her face as her fingers traced along the edges of his scruffy face. "You know, seeing you in action was pretty hot." She said lowly. 

He laughed and shook his head. "Me? What was that outfit you were wearing and why the hell have I not seen you in it?" 

"That old thing?" She whispered, "was cheap and not my style." 

Bucky leaned down, bringing her hand to his lips kissing the inside of her wrist, "Could it?" 

Florence raised a brow at him with a smirk. 

"I mean when you're healed." He clarified, "You aren't doing anything for the next few weeks except bed rest." 

"It's a shoulder wound." Florence laughed at him. 

"And you are my wife." Bucky countered, "Which means I get to dote on you until you're better." 

Her hand curled around the back of his neck, tangling in the short hairs there, "I could get used to that." 

"Good." He said as he leaned into her, whispering against her lips before kissing her for the first time since he left home that morning, letting the monotonous beeping and horror of the day disappear until all that was left was them.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel one shot #marvelous #one shot #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #avengers #writing community #writing collaboration #thesugarclub

[stxrvel]

two strangers (1)

summary: when bucky rescues you, you didn't think there could be a more indecent person. but as the days go by, you realize he may have a chicken heart.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +6k

warnings: a lot of bad words and mentions of wounds and blood.

read this for some context! so fyi this is set in an alternate universe where mercenaries exist, but like a society, like john wick, and the avengers rescued bucky from hydra's control and all that, but he decided to keep his life in the mercenary side, taking missions to get rid of really bad people, and even though he isn't part of the society per se, he's very known by it but he doesn't care to join them.

note: hi guys! i decided to publish this in different parts, seeing that my inspiration had a big strike and yesterday i just couldn't stop writing. i think the updates will be weekly, but you'll know the exact date in the masterlist page. so i hope you like it! and know feedback is always appreciated! love you all 💜

Bucky never thought the rescue would be difficult. It was a huge house, three floors, a hundred windows and doors, with a garden that directly overlooked a wooded area. The walk to the entrance was not at all dissimilar to the ambiance of the whole area, as it was at least a forty minute walk through trees and bushes. There were about fifty people guarding each entrance and access, but Bucky knew that there would be a shift change at ten o'clock at night, at which time there would be about 25 people that he would have to face in less than 10 minutes to reach the target, and after that he would have just under two minutes to get at least ten kilometers away from the house and avoid being followed.

Except that Bucky wasn't riding the bike back to town and had a piece of a shirt pressed against the side of his abdomen from which blood was pouring out, while a couple of other bikes were following behind them and they could barely dodge the bullets.

Bucky knew he couldn't play with words again.

“Drive faster,” Bucky mumbled over the sound of the wind and bullets, barely able to hold onto the abdomen of the woman behind the wheel, whose name he couldn't remember.

“Fucking hell, I'm doing everything I can!”

Bucky peered over the woman's shoulder watching as the needle pointed to one hundred and ten kilometers per hour and raised his eyebrows. How that tiny woman was able to keep her balance and zigzag through the trees at that speed was a complete mystery.

While it was true that the bike had more speed, it was quite dangerous to increase it seeing the wooded road full of natural obstacles in front of them. So Bucky just pulled out of his right side the gun he always carried with him and started shooting at whatever he could aim at. Maybe that way he could get some leverage.

After a few minutes, Bucky began to make out the lighted streets of the city and was minimally glad that the rescue had not been a failure.

“When you take the road, turn right and then left, there you go straight ahead and increase your speed as much as you can.”

The woman barely nodded toward Bucky's words as she maneuvered through the branches and downhill slopes until she made it to the asphalt, and it was like falling off the end of a roller coaster. Bucky thought he had flown off the bike.

When the woman made the turn Bucky indicated and found a track that stretched along without a possible end, she accelerated so much that she was sure that, had she not had a helmet, she would have been out of eyelashes in seconds.

It didn't take them too long to lose the criminals following them and find the safe house where they would spend the night. Bucky felt his body still vibrating with the bike as the woman parked it in the subway parking lot. The walk to the stairs and what he rode inside the house was one big blurry moment inside his head as the adrenaline began to wear off and the pain throughout his body became more and more noticeable.

He barely remembered lying on the white couch, staining it entirely with blood and mud, and the woman in front of him trying to stop his bleeding.

-

You did everything in your power to stop the bleeding in the man's side. It was difficult, but you managed to get a halfway decent stitch and tried to disinfect it with what you found in the first aid kit in the house. You wrapped his abdomen with gauze and bandages as best you could and finally left him alone. He had fainted the moment you put alcohol on the wound with gauze, and you didn't know if it was because of the pain or the lack of blood. It was probably the latter, he looked like a strong guy.

A strong guy who had definitely underestimated his mission. Strong but his arrogance was a major flaw.

You had tried to arrange the whole room as you had found it, because you'd made a big mess carrying that man who weighed twice as much as he looked to the couch. In the end, cleaning up the blood was the most complicated thing.

You went to bed at dawn, after an exhaustive session in the shower. You washed your clothes by hand three times and then soaked them for at least an hour until you washed them again. You got clean clothes and changed when the first traces of azure blue began to adorn the sky.

But you stared at the ceiling for a while. Memories of what had happened in the last few days and years flooded your head and kept you moving your hands under the sheet. Restlessness, new friend. Reminiscing about it, the sound of bullets, the adrenaline rush and the blood of the man in the room almost kept you awake. But, at some point, out of exhaustion or pity, your eyes finally closed.

-

Bucky cursed, moving around the room. Trying to walk to the bathroom, he had dropped everything his hands had touched. And the pain in his side didn't make things any easier. He didn't know what the woman sleeping peacefully on the second floor had done, but it seemed the pain was sharper than yesterday.

As his body moved closer to the bathroom, he heard footsteps coming from the stairs. The silhouette of the woman materialized in front of him, who was trying to climb the five steps that separated him from the bathroom.

“What are you doing? You opened your wound,” Bucky observed the woman's scowl with hair standing on end like a cat in the face of an imminent threat.

He watched her in slow motion and infrared as she tried to move closer to him, decreasing the distance between them and making it difficult for him to walk to the bathroom.

The woman raised her arms to touch him, but before she could do anything, Bucky threw a swipe. She staggered, and without a second's hesitation stepped away from him.

Bucky thought he saw a hint of fear in her eyes, but it had to have been a figment of his imagination, because the next moment she was only looking at him with annoyance.

“How surly.”

“Don't get in my way.”

“I was trying to help you.”

“Standing in my way doesn't help me at all.”

“"You're bleeding again…”

“Fuck, I need to use the bathroom.”

The woman silently moved to the side. And Bucky barely glanced at her as he passed her and finally climbed the fifth step that separated him from his destination.

That was why he had stopped accepting missions like that. It was so much easier to just show up at a place to shoot someone in the forehead and then run away, he didn't have to spend days and days waiting to finish the mission. He could even do more than three in a single day, when the targets knew each other or were in the same place.

But, yes, even if it didn't seem like it, so much death at his heels was also a bit overwhelming if he was honest. He'd heard from other mercenaries, the ones who weren't so sadistic, that rescue missions were sometimes a respite to get back into the action again. Bucky had done it before, but there was always something that went wrong. And this time was no exception. Maybe he wasn't cut out to rescue people, to save them…

When he came out of the bathroom and made his way with great effort into the living room, the smell of bacon and eggs filled the room. Scattered on the dining room table were all the items he could find inside a first aid kit and there was also a bag with what appeared to be bloody gauze.

“I thought the bath swallowed you up.”

Bucky noticed when the woman came out of the kitchen wiping her hands with a white cloth. She was wearing different clothes than yesterday, white and neat, totally in contrast to the stained and dirty clothes he was wearing.

“Sit down. I need to check you over.”

“I'm fine.”

“Don't be foolish.”

Bucky shifted, willing himself to lie back down on the couch he'd woken up in. He vaguely noticed that on one side of the furniture was a bucket of water and bubbles and some sponges, one submerged and one over an edge of the couch that was bathed in blood.

“You do know there are people who clean these places?” Bucky spoke as he tried to find a way to sit down without having to bend over or exert too much force by bending his legs.

“No.”

“Well, now you know. Don't spend time cleaning these things.”

“It looks bad.”

“It's just blood… argh.”

Bucky arched as he made a very bad move and rested one of his hands on the back of the couch. He barely heard the woman sigh and then her footsteps approaching.

“No, no… I can.”

“God, what a stupid man.”

“What the fuck did you just-? Ah, ah, ahhhhh.”

The man hadn't even noticed when you came up behind him and pushed him to move before his head could process it. He fell noisily onto the couch and bit his lips to keep from moaning in pain.

“I like you better when you're quiet.”

Giving up the fight, Bucky let his body fall against the backrest and dropped his limp hands on either side of his legs. With his eyes closed, he heard a flutter of things on one side of him and guessed that the woman was digging through the things she had placed on the table. He barely had any memories of the night before when they arrived and most of them included a terrible pain that drove him into unconsciousness.

"Well, let's see…" the woman mumbled to herself and Bucky soon felt her hands moving over his bandaged abdomen.

It was instinct and he couldn't stop his left hand, metallic and dulled by the bloodstains that spread over his body, from clinging with superhuman strength to the wrists of the woman who had only intended to tend to him.

Even with his eyes closed, he heard her gasp in surprise and felt her tense in front of him. Her small hands, which had not the slightest chance before his exorbitant strength, stirred under his grip in slight movements. Without seeing her, he could tell she was so frightened she didn't know if she should keep shaking or stay still.

Bucky opened his eyes to realize that his instinct was right. The woman was pale with fright.

Sighing, the man loosened his grip until finally releasing her.

The woman fell backwards on the floor trying to get away from him.

That was the look he was used to seeing on all his victims.

Turning his head away, Bucky cleared his throat.

“Ask first next time.”

It was several seconds before the woman moved again. She had stood there, still and tense, watching him, waiting for any sudden movement to bolt. She moved closer to him on her knees, but not as close as she had been a few minutes ago. Her breathing was just beginning to become more leisurely until she finally seemed to have calmed down.

Bucky kept his gaze anywhere but on the small woman in front of him, who seemed to fear she would be swallowed alive.

“I'm going to-”

“Yes.”

That time, when the woman moved her hands back to the bandage around his abdomen, Bucky tensed, but kept his instincts to himself. He knew the woman had sensed that moment of hesitation, because she almost moved her hands away, but came closer again when nothing happened.

Thus Bucky allowed himself to be attended to, until he fell back asleep on the couch.

-

When the man woke up again, you had already eaten breakfast and finished washing the couch, except for the place where he was lying. You had also cleaned up the trail of blood he had left on the floor from the bathroom all the way back to the living room. You had tried to make everything in your reach neat, free of any mud or blood stains. And when you were done in the living room, you went to fix what was needed in the kitchen.

You were halfway through going to get your clothes when you heard him.

“Fuck, how the hell did you make it hurt more than it did before?”

You turned on your feet at the top of the stairs to see him as he leaned forward with a grimace.

“Maybe I wouldn't have had to double stitch you if you weren't such a moron.”

“Double stitch? Does that exist?”

“I don't know!”

“You double stitched me?”

You shrugged. “Just in case!”

“Argh… No fucking way.”

Dropping his head on the back of the couch, the man brought his right hand over his forehead in a weary gesture.

“Whatever. I left you some hot water in the shower and a rag. Try not to get your wound wet.”

He lowered his head to look at you, but you hurried on walking to the cleaning room.

That man was scary. And it was much scarier that you were in an almost-abandoned house in a ghost neighborhood alone with him. The chances were that if you shouted, no one would hear you; or if you did and someone did hear you, they would prefer to keep on walking. That's how troubled the place you were in looked.

You were surprised that your brother had sent someone like that to look for you. At least he would have made a little more effort to find someone more decent. You had to crawl to get you both out of that wrecked house, when it should've been the other way around. As you folded your clothes, you wondered where your brother had gotten that man from.

You were heading back to the room when you heard a snort down the hall. Against the alarms in your head, you approached the hallway to see towards the back, into the living room, as the man had gotten up from the couch and had walked that way about seven steps with the goal of reaching the stairs. At the pace he was going, you wondered how long it had taken him to get there. And with the winces of pain he was making, you knew it was taking all his strength not to make sudden movements.

You sighed as you dropped your clothes on the basket next to the door. That man was going to give you green gray hair.

“Let me help you,” you spoke once you were near him, at the top of the stairs.

It really wasn't that many stairs, only ten steps were separating the man from that bathroom. You didn't know why that kind of platform was there, instead of just making a flat floor for the whole house being so big, but you couldn't judge an architect's decisions.

And yet, even though it was only a few stairs, it seemed like a hundred when you had a bullet wound in your abdomen.

When you started to descend, the man said nothing, just watched you intently as your feet went one in front of the other holding onto the handrail. His deadly gaze caused you to shiver slightly because he looked like a lion about to eat a gazelle.

Still, you stopped at a safe distance.

“May I?”

The man kept his gaze on yours for a while longer, as if he had to weigh every possibility in a short time. You wonder what he saw in you that he had to be so alert. You barely reached his chin, what could you do without him stopping you two seconds before? You didn't even have the option to think of anything.

So when he sighed, you realized he had given in.

-

Bucky took a pleasant nap on the bed in the master bedroom when he finished showering, if anyone could call what he had done a shower. He ran a washcloth with warm water all over his body, with the tiniest amount of soap and unable to wash his hair. The woman downstairs had offered to do it for him, but Bucky didn't even consider that possibility.

Still, he felt fresh enough to really rest for a while.

And by the time he awoke, moonlight was filtering through the curtains.

It was daring to get out of bed. But it was worth it when he reached the kitchen and the smell of meat made his stomach growl loudly. He hadn't eaten anything for over twenty-four hours. He hadn't even accepted the breakfast the woman made because he still felt as if at any moment he was going to vomit up to the air.

But at that moment… at that moment….

“Ah, you finally woke up.”

“How long did I sleep?”

“About twelve hours.”

Bucky moved his head to look at the clock above the entrance to the kitchen, and yes, it was already eight o'clock at night.

“How are you feeling? How's the wound?”

The man stirred when he heard the woman's voice nearby. She had moved until she reached the kitchen entrance, not a step more, not a step less.

“It doesn't hurt as much as it did before.”

“That's good,” the woman shook her head in a nod and walked back into the kitchen. “Sit down. You need to eat.”

Bucky obeyed silently, because dealing with food he didn't want to grumble. He heard the sound of dishes and silverware before the woman came out with two large plates in her hands. When Bucky saw what she had cooked, his mouth dropped open in surprise.

“I hope you like meat,” the woman commented in a light voice, but at Bucky's silence she began to perspire. “I also cooked a vegan option if you-”

“No,” Bucky cut her off, moving his hands to grab the silverware. “I definitely like meat.”

Bucky didn't notice how the woman's shoulders relaxed as she watched him savor each thing on his plate nor how she kept her gaze fixed on him to make sure he didn't choke on how quickly the food was being stuffed.

And when they were both finished eating, the woman pulled out a bag that had been sitting on a chair and set it on the table, bringing it closer to Bucky, but not too close.

At the man's arched eyebrow, she said, “Medication.”

Bucky's eyes lit up, but he shook his head quickly.

“Why the hell didn't you give this to me before?”

“Because there was none before.”

Bucky frowned. “And where did you get this?”

As she answered, the woman got up to pick up the dishes and carry them to the scrubber. “There's a store about five blocks from here. I had some money so I bought it. It seemed necessary.”

The woman went to grab the silverware Bucky had used, not noticing the man's steady gaze on her, when his metal hand stopped her from taking the silverware away.

She unconsciously cringed at the sudden movement, and sought the man's gaze in alarm. Bucky felt such overwhelming anger make its way inside his chest that he didn't even think twice before letting his body act first.

“You did what?”

The woman sputtered a couple of times, like a fish out of water, before replying, “I just went for meds. So you won't get the wound infected.”

“You left this house alone? Are you out of your mind?”

Bucky raised his voice as he rose suddenly from his chair. His metal hand pulled the woman's wrist and slammed it against her chest in one violent motion. She barely managed to take a deep breath before tears welled up in her eyes.

“Do you even have any idea what I had to go through to get you here? And you're telling me you walked out of this house like it was nothing? Alone?!”

Still cringing at the tone of voice Bucky was using, the woman replied shakily, “But nothing happened. I'm fine…”

“Ah! Right! And how can you be sure that no one followed you here? How can you be sure that you didn't compromise our location?”

“I swear I took a good look when I left and arrived. There was no one… There wasn't… Please just... let me go.”

Bucky pursed his lips and took one more detailed look at the woman's contracted face. He angrily let go of her.

She didn't hesitate for a second to start up the stairs.

“Just take the fucking meds,” she spat from afar, and the next thing Bucky heard was the slamming of a room door.

Staring at the empty space through which the woman had disappeared, Bucky took a few seconds to calm his breathing and emotions. Now he had to make sure they weren't going to be ambushed by surprise while he slept and the two were distracted. He could go stay all the rest of the night in the camera room after placing a motion bomb over every entrance to the house… but he was too tired to do that, and he most likely wouldn't be able to find the necessary items in that house to make those traps as invisible as possible. The only thing he could do was to sit in that armchair with a shotgun in his hands and wait. Hope that it was true that no one had followed her.

Bucky sighed. Fuck, he had to learn to manage his attitude.

His eyes fell on the bag on the table and he felt the tiniest whip of guilt inside his chest. It disappeared as quick as lightning. He picked up the bag to rummage inside to find four boxes and a piece of paper.

He shook the bag on the table and the medications fell free. He grabbed the paper with a frown and the whip of guilt returned as he read what had been written in black ink:

“Stranger,

I'm writing this note to tell you how you should take these medications.

The blue one is to prevent infection, so you should take it every 12 hours.

The red one is for pain. If it hurts too much, take it every 6 hours, and if it doesn't hurt too much, take it every 12 hours.

Yellow is an analgesic, it will most likely put you to sleep. Take it when the pain is unbearable.

And the green box is vitamins. Take one after each meal.

These boxes will last for at least a week. Hopefully by that time the wound will have healed much more.

Take them judiciously.”

Bucky stared at that piece of paper as if it were to blame for all his misfortunes. In spite of everything, the woman did try to care for his wound, even if he did nothing but reject the support she gave him.

The sound of something similar to a bell brought Bucky out of the depths of his head.

It was the satellite phone.

Bucky moved to the kitchen, where the sound was coming from. There, beside the blender, was the phone. He wondered if the woman had used it before.

He picked up the device and held it up to his ear in silence.

“Barnes?”

“Jacob.”

“Fucking shit. Why are you answering until now? I've been calling for a while now.”

So she hadn't used the phone.

“I was asleep.”

“What?”

“Long story.”

The man on the other end of the line barely took a deep breath.

“Are you with her?”

“Yes.”

“And she's okay?“”

“Yes.”

“Ah,” the man exclaimed in relief. “When are you going to bring her in?”

“You know I have to wait at least five days before I leave the house.”

“Argh, yes, yeah, right. And have you two got enough? Food? Clothes? Has she eaten well? Have you seen her take care of herself?”

“She's fine. She's more than capable of fending for herself. Stop worrying.”

“It's easy for you to ask me that when it's not your family member who was kidnapped.”

Bucky twisted his lips. “Why are you calling me and not Alejandro?”

“He left early. Seems there was a problem with the New York headquarters.”

“Ah, the troubled mercenary society.”

“Yeah, you should have seen the look on his face from these brats again,” Jacob let out a short laugh that was not reciprocated by Bucky. “Well,” he throat cleared, “let me know if there's any news.”

“Okay.”

And Bucky hung up.

His gaze lingered on the white kitchen wall before returning his attention to the colorful boxes on the dining room counter.

Fuck he was going to apologize to the woman.

-

You were stunned when you woke up the next morning and breakfast was ready and there was no sign of the man anywhere near the kitchen. The same thing happened at noon and at night.

You wanted to meet him somewhere to thank him, but at the same time you wanted to never see him again. However, what you thought about most was his wound and that you should've changed his bandage more than six hours ago. But the man was nowhere to be found. He would only show up to cook something and then vanish.

Still, you tried to comfort yourself with the thought that he had taken the gauze and bandages, because you couldn't find the first aid kit anywhere either.

At some point you thought that would be a good thing, not to find him even by accident for the rest of the days you had to spend in that house. You didn't think you would be able to keep up with his temper, clearly driven by emotions he couldn't control. You'd better take that time to take care of yourself and try to process everything that had happened instead of continuing to repress it, as always.

But… every time you tried to think about what had happened, what it had been like to be in that mansion in the middle of the trees, in the middle of nowhere, a suffocating sensation would make its way from your stomach to your chest and throat, and suddenly you felt short of breath. You couldn't spend more than a minute trying to cope with those emotions and memories you kept locked up in your memory because bringing them up made you feel like you were choking on air.

Maybe it was still too soon.

Yes, maybe it was.

It was already close to midnight when you finished organizing the kitchen. It seemed like the meds were kicking in if the man could spend so much time on his feet cooking and then washing dishes.

Remembering the anger that had sailed across his face the night before still gave you chills. You were trying to get that image out of your head.

You were on your way to the yard when you heard a sound down the hall. There were a couple of doors in that house that you had seen around but had no idea what was behind them, and now you were hearing a sound behind one of them.

Thinking of the man, you moved and walked to open the door, encountering stairs descending to the left and a light at the bottom of the stairs. The sound repeated, and with the door open you could also identify music.

You carefully descended and followed the hallway to the left after descending. Whatever it was you were expecting to see, a gymnasium opened up in front of your eyes. And in the middle of it all, the man, punching a large sandbag as if he didn't have a bullet wound in his abdomen.

You didn't know if you had made a noise or he had a sixth sense, but suddenly he moved his head and his eyes met yours. His expression denoted nothing but indifference and he promptly hit the bag again.

“You do know you have a large wound in your abdomen?” was the first thing you said as you stepped through the glass door.

The man didn't even turn around.

“You could open up the wound.”

“I've been here all day and nothing's happened to me.”

“Yeah, lucky you. Watch how you stretch to hit that.”

The man stopped to look at you when you got too close trying to see his injured side. Feeling prey to his intimidating stare, you backed up a few steps.

“Check it out if you want to so badly,” he turned around to face you and raised his arms waiting for you to come closer. You had barely noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

“No. Did you change your bandages?”

“Yes. The wound is fine. I haven't even had to take the pills.”

You frowned at him as he went back to focusing on his sandbag. “Not even the vitamins?”

The man gave you a sidelong glance before striking again.

“Oh, c'mon,” you exclaimed in annoyance. “At least make my act of recklessness worthwhile.”

His gaze traveled to your face again, his expression incredulous and somewhat angry. He shook his head as if he didn't credit your words and went back to focusing on his blows. One after another. One, two, three, four.

“It really doesn't hurt?”

This time he hit the sack so hard with his metal arm that it flew off and crashed against the wall in a thud.

You barely cowered in place.

“Take off the bandages so you're sure.”

Again he turned his body toward you, his posture nonchalant even though his features were hard, like polished marble.

“Stop,” you raised your hands, “I'm sorry.”

The man sighed, lowering his shoulders for the first time at will. The only times you had ever seen him relaxed had been when he slept.

He began to untangle the bandages around the knuckles of his right hand as he approached the sack he had pushed out of its holder.

“What's your name?”

“Huh?”

“Are you deaf?” the man turned with a frown, but quickly turned away taking a deep breath. “What's your name?”

“Uhm… Y/N. Didn't you already know that?”

“Yes. But I'd forgotten.”

“Ah.”

“I'm sorry, Y/N.”

“Why?”

“I'm not used to… whatever it is you do,” he waved his hand vaguely as if trying to clarify a point.

“You mean help you?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Don't you get help very often?”

“I work alone. That's what I mean.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

“Well, anyway. I'm sorry I yelled at you last night. I shouldn't have lost control.”

“Yeah…”

“And you shouldn't have gone out on your own like that. Don't ever do that again,” his accusing index finger pointed at you.

“Okay. I'm sorry.”

He sighed and turned around again to look at the sandbag on the floor. He had already removed his bandages and his knuckles looked somewhat swollen, the red color standing out against the olive of his skin. If he'd been like that all day, he must have at least some pain in that hand. You frowned watching him there, not moving.

He couldn't bend over.

Maybe he wasn't so sincere in saying it didn't hurt.

“I can lift it,” you spoke before you even thought it through.

The man, whose name you hadn't asked yet, turned to look at you with an ingrown eyebrow. You tried not to think too hard as he swept his eyes over your figure and then looked back down at the sandbag on the floor, probably taller than you and certainly heavier. But you could do it. Besides, you couldn't allow him to make that effort if there was a chance of once again opening up the wound.

When he took a step back and turned to look at you, your palms sweated. Maybe you really couldn't…

No, you could. You definitely could. It was a piece of cake.

Under his watchful eye you approached the sandbag. You looked at it with narrowed eyes, like your nemesis. You moved your arms, wanting to loosen your shoulders a bit before overexerting yourself lifting the thing, and at that moment you heard a short, thinly disguised laugh through a cough.

When you turned to see him, he kept coughing like it was nothing and turned to walk to another side of the gym.

Ha, how funny.

You turned around to focus on your task and, well, it was crunch time. You felt so determined to shut him up that you didn't even think it was the first time you'd seen an emotion other than indifference and anger in him.

You hugged the sack and gathering all your strength you moved back.

Nothing moved.

You tried again.

Nothing.

You snorted as you stood up for the fifth time and saw that the bag had barely moved less than a foot from its initial state. You rounded the object and sat down in front of it. You swung your legs over and planted your feet on the side of the bag and began to push hard.

You could move it. Not much, but you could move it.

You kept doing it until it was under the support where it had been hanging before the man's anger sent it flying. You put your head up and realized that the support was too high for you to push the bag up. It was impossible.

“Leave it,” you heard the man say.

You found him across the gym in front of you with a bottle in his hands. He took a big sip as he watched you in amusement.

Then, without a word, he moved a little to his left and pressed a button on what appeared to be a joystick. There were many other small buttons and levers that you had absolutely no idea what they could be for in a gym.

Then, you heard something over your head. You watched in amazement at what the man's button was doing.

The bastard had let you try to do something he knew was impossible for you to do, knowing that there was a stupid button that could do it for you. From the back of the gym, a sandbag was moving from the ceiling to where you were, guided by the mechanical system above your head. You barely noticed then that, in the shape of a circle, there was a kind of rail along which the brackets hanging from the ceiling moved.

You wanted to choke someone.

When you looked back at the man, he had his lips cocked in a smug smile. Damn him.

“I'm not going to offer to do anything for you again,” you exclaimed as you stood up and proudly decided to walk out of there with what little dignity you had left.

“Oh no, you should keep doing it. It's very entertaining.”

You stuck out your middle finger at him as you walked in the direction of the exit without turning to look at him. You heard more real laughter when you were far enough away.

-

It was quite late at night when Bucky came out of the gym. It had only been a few hours since you had left and he thought maybe he should follow in your footsteps and go rest, but for some reason he decided to stay a while longer.

On his way out, he saw the sandbag on the floor again and was too surprised by the urge he had to crack a smile. But he restrained himself.

In the house the lights were still on. It was almost midnight. Bucky had prepared dinner with the goal of getting you to eat and go to bed, because it seemed that every time you ate you had to go to sleep afterwards, even if it was just a short nap. But it looked like that wasn't going to be the case this time.

When he came into the living room he found you lying on the big couch in front of the TV on. Some news channel was playing in the background and it looked like you were deep in concentration listening because you didn't move when he approached.

“What are you doing awake still?” Bucky spoke with a frown before he could repent. “It's almost-”

You were asleep.

Bucky stopped at the side of the large piece of furniture when he saw you with your eyes closed and hugging one of the cushions, with half a sheet over your legs. Of course, it was going to be weird that you were still awake.

Bucky had always seen you walking, alert, moving around, always looking for something to occupy you. Your moments of rest were always away from him. However, looking to the front where the glass table was, Bucky quickly noticed the rag on the table and a small bucket on the floor.

So even all tired out you had been looking for something to do.

Bucky sighed shaking his head.

He took the rag resting on the neatest glass he had ever seen, along with the bucket filled with soapy water, and carried them to the laundry room where he put everything back in its place.

When you returned, you had shifted on the couch and looked like you wanted to find a position to stretch out because your body was more tilted than before.

Bucky turned off the TV which had low sound and stood in front of you on the couch.

He couldn't carry you to the bed without risking too much force that would compromise his injury and seeing how worried you had been about that earlier, he preferred to avoid straining too much. For some reason, he had the feeling that you would prefer to sleep on the couch if it would keep the wound in his abdomen from opening up.

So, he opted for the safest option. He brought down some pillows from the master bedroom along with another larger, thicker sheet. He planted himself in front of you thinking about the best way to accommodate you so you wouldn't wake up sore, although the cushions on that piece of furniture weren't as hard as the ones in the dining room.

Finally he opted to follow the direction your own body was taking. He nestled a pillow over the armrest of the couch, punching it and molding it until it looked comfortable enough. Then he ran his left hand carefully down your neck and his right hand circled your shoulders until it reached your back. He moved you slightly forward keeping you stable and then began to let your body slowly fall onto the couch.

When you were lying flat, he gently pulled his left hand out and stood up. Quietly and very carefully, he removed the small cushion you were hugging, and before you could make any grimace, he rolled a larger pillow between your arms. Bucky watched you sigh in contentment.

Finally, he pulled back the small, thin blanket between your legs and arranged the large sheet he had brought that almost doubled as a bedspread. It would probably get you warm in a few seconds, but that was good, because the nights were cold in that house.

Finished with his task, Bucky nodded to himself.

It was only after he finished that he really realized what he had done. He frowned, watching your placid face as you rested comfortably.

Why had he done that, without even a second thought?

Bucky suddenly felt the need to run away. Now he wanted to undo all that because tomorrow you would wake up and surely ask questions he wouldn't know how to answer. That he wouldn't want to answer. Maybe he could play dumb and say that's how he'd found you when he'd left the gym. Surely you'd been so drunk on sleep that you hadn't even realized what you'd done.

Maybe that had happened to Bucky. Maybe he'd been so drunk on exhaustion that he hadn't realized what he was doing until he'd done it. Yes, surely.

Inside his chest he again recognized the feeling of guilt he'd had when he saw the paper you'd given him with the pills, and that only increased as he remembered he hadn't taken a single one.

It was guilt that made him move like that.

Yes, that was probably it.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Peters dumbass team (red)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55231981 by Imohsoterrified The Avengers were called to a meeting to discuss a new vigilante team that had recently appeared on their radar. “Team red”. And one of the members of this mysterious team just happens to be Peter Parker, a kid who just happens to be an Avenger. And there is no way that peter is telling tony and the rest of the team that he hangs out with a mercenary and a guy that likes to turn people into vegetables. Words: 1330, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wade Wilson, Matt Murdock, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, Peter Parker & Everyone Additional Tags: Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Blind Matt Murdock, Protective Wade Wilson, Wade Wilson is a Little Shit, No Spideypool, I REPEAT THERE IS NO SPIDEYPOOL THE TOM HOLLAND SPIDER-MAN IS A CHILD, No Romance, Matt Murdock Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Not Canon Compliant, i don't even know were this sits in the timeline tbh, Protective Tony Stark, Protective Avengers, no bata we die like peters sanity during this fic read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/55231981

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #iron dad and spider son #spider son #iron dad #peter parker #tony stark