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samodivaa · 7 months

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Training Techniques

Winter Soldier x Reader He is not allowed to move an inch—he can only watch you pleasure yourself—but why is there a ring on your finger?

Warnings - smut, light angst, mastrubation(f), rough sex, choking, breeding kink Words - 2600 ⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ You have absolutely no pleasure in the work in which you sometimes so madly indulge—training the assets with delicacy of words with which their handlers don’t approve of—Soldat is your favorite, with his expression of endless and unconditional gratitude and a silent promise of complicity unto death—he may not remember your face, but he always remembers your voice, its' gentleness. The soporific air of your room, in the soft breath of bread and sweets—he was sent there, because he was misbehaving again.

It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that you have periled this life and reputation—but here you are—on your bed trying to sleep when you see him sitting on the chair, waiting. And this isn't a romance. You're not a damsel in distress and he is not the handsome prince who comes to save you—this is his desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of the impending doom, but they didn’t know that.

You know.

He can't stop looking at you—Soldat is gazing at a distant star. It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago, because he is not allowed to move until you instruct him to.

Subconsciously, he licks his lips at the sight at your body in a night dress and wonder if he will ever just cum in your mouth as you suck him off to your knees…or if he’ll take you by the hair before he’s finished and fuck you into a sobbing heap before blowing his load. It doesn’t seem worth the risk —but he wanted this for so long now, he needs to voice it.

“Please-” —an irrational and indulgent mistake. you stand up on your elbows in shock at the word he utters—his eyes drift leisurely back up to your face and his lips twitch. Soldat has fallen into a state of feverish lust, but that is not a justification for his disobedience. His heart goes into a shameless delirium when your eyes meet. “Desperate?” you mock, but underneath the mockery Soldat finds a reservoir of understanding. You lay back on the bed as nothing has happened, and your voice takes on a restful strength “I still need to punish you for that, Winter” He behaves as naturally, with such discretion, that he does not lose his composure, not even when you remove your wedding ring—who committed the impertinence of marrying you? He goes through a crisis of disappointment, fury, jealousy, but this is your way of giving Soldat a layer of respect—he wants to call it loyalty. And maybe you can be his or maybe you will be entwined in this sexless foreplay tonight.

He wants to ask so many questions, but he can’t. Not now. There is a pent-up curiosity, hysteria of his unsatisfied needs, unnaturally suppressed communion and also a kind of tense respect, because if he is obedient enough—he will be rewarded.

“You will watch me, that's all you will do for now” you say, your voice has sunk to a whisper. Your words stoke a warmness in his stomach, a fire in his crotch. And he doesn’t care what you will do with him—even if you want to cut him, sharpen him however you please—that's all he knows anyways. He wants this memory to stay what it is, one intense moment, something that is strong and sweet enough to stand on its own. Your room has turned into an idyllic paradise for a good many years, your skin glistening in the light coming from the slits in the blinds as your hands play with your breast through the nightgown. He has lost his voice and a thread of cold sweat runs down the path of his spine, suffocating with heat, because of the black leather clothes—the stiff collar and the tight harness that is restricting his breathing, is becoming increasingly annoying.

His eyes are growing moist with indignation, with angry impotence, and for the first time, he is barely controlling himself. It is the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning—he needs to be patient, but it’s hard—not harder than his cock—It's more erotic, more intense to watch you touch yourself. He is master of what he does, but never of what he desires. You are greatly overestimating his self-control. But this is what you are testing tonight—his ability to subordinate the impulse to fuck you. Self-control might be as passionate and as active as the surrender to passion, but you need to show him who is in charge while your panties are becoming steadily slicker. All you need to do is to tell him to come, but you refrain from doing the thing you want so badly—to be consumed by Winter. You glance up to find his eyes blazing with raw need—blue orbits pleading for you to command him. You spread your legs open, positioning yourself in front of him—one hand still toying with your nipple while the fingers of the other hook in your panties and drag them down your legs slowly before throwing them in his direction. His breath stutters as they land on his left boot and Soldat eyes them wickedly, knowing that all he can do is watch.

"Good, very good, Soldat '' you coo, sliding two fingers into your core, scissoring and stretching, curling over the one sweet spot—imagining his metal digits. You remove them as your index finger takes their place, rubbing slow, torturous circles on your clit, sliding down to tease your opening, then back up. Over and over again.

He slides his tongue across his teeth, remembering the taste of your nectar, becoming more and more aroused with every beat of his heart that runs down his shaft.

“I want you so much, gosh” he is stirred by the lust in your smooth voice. You are breathing deep with your mouth wide open—he doesn’t blink, he doesn’t dare blink. Soldat can swear he feels the pressure of your palms on his cheeks—or is it a memory? Everything is a memory to him. “I want you here, fucking me” There is something raw and pleading in your voice that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving.

With the auspicious attention of a strained killing machine, he examines your fingers, your shivering body and listens to your muffled moans meticulously. It is such a tumultuous and intemperate invasion to his mind—your scandalous behavior is pulling at every string of his nerves and self-control.

It is such a prolonged act, so meticulous, so rich in all aspects as you are giving yourself over to the deserved adoration of your own body and pleasure. It leaves Soldat breathless at the tremendous spectacle of your nudity and lack of shame as you bring yourself closer to the edge.

“Jesus-I am so close” You confess, surprised at how fast the arousal is budding. You arch your back and hips buckle like an electric current runs through your body, moaning, rubbing your clit faster, forcing yourself to let out a louder moan. The orgasm wrecks your body from head to toe and being watched by a ferocious male is exciting—all he needs is a feeling as primitive and as simple as that of love.

You see his eyes, still unblinking and you feel menaced by some invisible danger—you are keenly aware of every movement, every breath you take. Lust is a weed that grows in the vacant lots of an abandoned mind and the stacks of bad words that you have been forced to swallow, spills “Soldat, come here” you command, languid and serious.

You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you watch him between your spread legs, getting up and slowly coming towards the bed as his thick, black pants fall to the floor around his feet, the belt clattering noisily. Winter craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten. He breathes, his chest rising and falling so close to yours.

“Kiss m-” you whisper the words, and before you even finish saying them, his mouth is on yours and you are melting under his lips, eyes flutter shut—and it is blissful oblivion—giving you the most intense and explosive kiss you two have ever shared. With the coldness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue beneath yours, you vow an endless bliss. He pulls back with a groan—Winter’s sky-blue eyes stare back into yours, and in his eyes you can see no parting from you. You put your hands on either side of his face, and the room falls away. You have never gotten so lost in a kiss before. And the kiss is not gentle. It is a wrestle of who would lead the excursion into the territory of passion and ecstasy, heat and unending craving for one another. You suck on his lower lip between your teeth and he lets out a low groan. It sounds almost aggravated and definitely impatient. Fire looks into his quiet eyes, touches his dear, familiar face—you lean upwards for a moment and dip your head towards his ear, grazing his soft skin with your teeth, while your hand slides to the harness. Soldat stills, angling his mouth towards your bare, perfect neck. You feel a warm slickness on your skin, his tongue trailing a path towards your shoulder.

It is a wild, animalistic compulsion, an urgent need as he suddenly slots himself between your legs and you turn your head away. Your fear is returning, crawling through your limbs and leaving you numb to everything. You shut your eyes, gripping the sheets, and whimper when he pushes himself inside you. He releases a ragged breath before moving, slow but with purpose, and you simply take it with soft whimpers and gasps as he pumps in and out of you, now starting to set a steady pace. His eyes, the blue completely gone from his them, soften for a moment and he kisses you tenderly before he whispers in your ear, his breath puffs against your skin. He spends a good amount of time on your neck, a brief stop at the base of your throat—he wants to bite you, but he can’t—something melts inside Soldat that hurts in an exquisite way—you are not his. “Who did you marry, Snow White?” He asks, voice throbbing with menace—before slipping inside you again and burying himself to the hilt. Sex with you this time is different, he has never felt this dominant, this claiming. He is so far in that his balls are right against your lips. You arch your back and moan “It doesn’t matter” as he slides back out nearly all the way before slamming into you hard and fast. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slams into you over and over, the only sound in the room is the skin slapping. You close your eyes and swallow. Your mouth parts and stills—your voice is barely a whisper as his tip touches your cervix. “Pierce…I am closer to ruining his plans, closer to freeing you” Despite your eyelids being tightly shut, a single, hot tear runs out of your eye. You are so angry that it has escaped—so angry—he stops his trusts completely. You moan as you feel his movement out of you. Then, as he almost has the tip fully out, he slaps it back in. When your eyes meet his gaze as you are sitting here staring at each other, time stops. Your fingertips reach to trace the metal shoulder, but he grasps your hand with his own. He leans down, far enough that the ends of his hair brush feather-light against your face, catching in your lashes and tears.

His breath, warm and measured, hits your cheek. Two breaths. Three. Then you stop breathing, and a second later, you feel his lips on your mouth. It is hungry, desperate. His metal hand wraps around your neck, thumb presses into the skin—you moan, it ripples over your nerve endings. His breath caresses your ear again—his grip on your neck tightens. And this makes you always still and submit…the act of Winter taking shameful, contemptuous possession of you is the kind of rapture you want.

“Next time-” you try, but with your restricted of oxygen brain, you are not able to. He tastes passion. He tastes lust. He tastes his power over you. He tastes a world of stimulants he’d never imagined. You are right there in front of him, he can do whatever he wants. Winter loosens his hold—only to observe you as you breathe raggedly, sliding down slowly, a moan ripping from your throat.

“Next time he calls you in his house, I will be there, too”

I have nothing to give but my heart so full and these empty hands.

“I need to kill them one by one, Winter” His mouth curves into a smile—his eyes are light blue and dancing with life. He pauses for only a fraction of a second. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to yours "Okay, yeah, yeah" a devil-soft whisper. He blinks several times like he is trying to comprehend your plan word by word. His trusts become so hormonal—you want his roughness. His other hand slips to your waist, pushing you into the mattress as he fucks you. For him, sex intimately relates to the most primitive kind of human contact, which can satisfy all of his needs he has been deprived from. "Winter " you gaspe breathlessly "Slow down" You try to let out a choked squeal, but his metal hand tightens around your neck again, muffling any sounds, your toes curling as he brings you steadily closer and closer to orgasm, reeling from the thrill and the fear from both his forceful thrusts of his powerful hips and the choking. Soldat is unrelenting in his domination of your body. But you are his at this moment, your cunt clenching around him while you mewls and grunts fill his ears, he can’t slow down even one bit. Logic would say that this is insane, every other fibre of his being says it's right—he has to fill you up. You can't move. You can't breathe. And his pace. And the adrenaline. “I will cum inside—dear Snow White” This is his demarcation line, all of a sudden it seems unfair to withhold it from you. Your inner muscles tighten as waves of pleasure start to build and ripple out. You don’t normally get off this fast, but you are lost in the exquisite sensations—you put your hands on his metal arm as your body bursts into flames, your fingers curling into the metal. You can’t make a sound and it is a shame, because it is the best orgasm you ever had. It is unbearable, unreal, unimaginable—it is too much as your eyes can only see darkness due to the choking. You can only hear a broken and hoarse cry escaping his lips, his warm come filling you up completely.

You can hear his breath, as your vision slowly becomes solid—a stray lock of dark hair falls into his eyes as he is looking down—he moves his hips back and then into you again, enjoying his cock being in a tub of cum, swimming in your honey.

#I WAS POSSESSED #but this is real #metal arm kink fr #winter soldier x you #winter soldier smut #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fic #winter soldier fanfiction #smut #slight angst #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel x reader #bucky barnes imagine

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heytheredelulu · 4 days

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ready to comply part 2? 👉👈

As you wish!

I may have left this one on a cliff hanger as well. 🫣

I’M SORRY! I was just having so much fun I had to leave it open in case there was interest for a part three. ❤️

Ready to Comply - Part Two

Requested by @littleone2001

Soldat!Bucky Barnes x PlusSized!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, gun play (sorry, not sorry), unprotected sex, rough sex, a lil boob slap (once, because I had to), spanking, fingering (f receiving), anal fingering (f receiving), brief discussion of kidnapping/making reader his sex slave

✏️ A/N at the end.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Oh fuck.

You muster up a small, broken sound from your chest when the realization finally hits you that your desire is overwhelming Bucky’s senses to the point that he’s struggling just to think.

“I-“

His fingers hook beneath the saturated fabric of your panties, his fingers grazing against your folds and igniting a heat in your body that sets your nerves on fire.

He tears them away, reducing them to a tattered rag in his fist which he brings to his nose and inhales deeply before he discards them to the floor with a growl.

He forces your thick thighs apart, spreading you open with his trembling fingers to observe your tight, wet hole as it clenches desperately around nothing.

“Fuck!”

His breath catches in his chest and he stumbles back, withdrawing the gun from his shoulder holster and brandishing it at you.

Your eyes widen as you snap your legs shut, raising your hands defensively and shrinking back in horror.

Bucky steps forward and presses the barrel of the gun against your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” He chokes out.

“You’re going to kill me.” You whisper, fear taking hold as your eyes screw shut and a tear slips down your cheek.

He shakes his head slowly, tracing the cool metal of his weapon along your jawline. “No, I ain’t gonna kill you. Not yet.”

Your eyes open, your expression twisting into one of confusion. “Then why.. why are you sorry?”

He sets his jaw, lifting his left hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Because I’m gonna hurt you.” He rasps.

Your brows knit in concern. “What do y-“

Bucky cuts you short, replying only by dipping his gun between your legs, pressing it firmly against your bare, weeping cunt.

Your entire body seizes in terror but as he drags the cool, hard weapon along your slick folds, the fear gives way to something else entirely.

“You don’t wanna hurt me..” You say slowly, carefully, biting back a moan as the barrel of the gun grazes across your clit.

“But I do.” He taunts, pulling the gun away and gripping your jaw with bruising force. He presses it to your mouth, your slick coating the metal and wetting your bottom lip. “Open.” He growls, leaving you little choice with how hard he’s holding your chin. He forces the gun into your mouth, your eyes wide in apprehension. “Suck.” He demands, pressing it down on your tongue. You swirl your tongue around it, tasting yourself on the bitter metal. He groans, withdrawing it harshly from your mouth with a string of spittle and tucking it back into its holster.

“I’m gonna fuck you. And it’s gonna hurt.” He mutters, his calloused fingers moving to unbuckle his belt.

“Bucky y-“ He pinches your cheeks together painfully in his metal hand, effectively silencing you.

“Quit fuckin’ calling me that!” He snaps, using his grip on your jaw to yank you forward to him.

“Soldat.” He corrects in a menacing tone, nodding your head for you to ensure you understood.

“That is my name. I suggest you remember it, because you’re about to be screaming it.”

He releases your face harshly, reaching to pull his hard, thick cock from his jeans and spitting into his palm. He curls his hand around his impressive length and pumps himself lazily from base to tip, rubbing his thumb roughly over the slit and smearing beads of precum along his shaft to mingle with his saliva.

Your eyes follow every stroke of his hand as he closes in on you, your brain working to comprehend just how in the hell your body was going to accommodate his size.

He’s right. This is going to hurt.

He clutches the neckline of your dress with his free hand, ripping and tearing the fabric until you’re bared to him and he kneads at your breast roughly pinching the pebbled flesh of your nipple harshly between his fingers, drawing a small cry from you.

“Buc-“ You stammer.

He slaps your tit hard and you wince from the sting as it radiates across the tender flesh of your ample breast.

“Soldat.” He growls through clenched teeth, hiking your legs to rest your heels on his shoulders and tilting your pelvis upwards as he lines himself up with your aching entrance.

You suck in a sharp breath as the crown of his cock breeches your tight, wet hole and you writhe underneath him against the sting as he splits you open, stretching your cunt and filling you in a way you’ve never experienced.

A shameless moan erupts from your throat when he begins to snap his hips, fucking into you with a merciless rhythm. What was once pain is quickly building into pleasure and your back arches up off the desk.

“So fucking tight.” He grunts, his heavy sack swinging with every deep thrust into your dripping cunt. His jaw clenches and he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs, spreading you wider as he tucks his chin to watch himself disappear into your wet heat with a predatory gaze.

Pleasure builds in your abdomen and you rock your hips to meet his hungry thrusts, biting down on your bottom lip as his thick cock massages your inner walls. The corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s biting back a smirk when he registers you eagerly moving in sync with him. He snakes a hand down between you, tracing his fingers along the girth of his cock where he’s filling you and gathers your slick along his fingertips, raising his hand and spreading his fingers to admire the sheen of your wetness with a thoughtful expression.

Without warning he withdraws, leaving you desperate and empty when he lets your right leg drop and curls his hand around your left ankle, flipping you hard onto your stomach. He grabs your hips and yanks you backwards towards him so you’re bent over your desk with the lip of it biting into your pelvis. He delivers a harsh smack to your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand, then dipping his head down to suck a bruise into the skin before biting down hard into your plump cheek. You yelp and raise yourself up on your palms, but Bucky splays a large, calloused hand across your back, forcing you back down and kicking your legs wider with the toe of his boot.

He plunges two fingers in your thoroughly fucked hole, coating them in your arousal before withdrawing them and sinking his cock back into your swollen cunt. Strangled noises of pleasure catch in your throat and you push your hips back greedily to meet him, your walls throbbing around him as ruts into you, his balls slapping against your clit and sending shockwaves through you with every brutal thrust.

He spreads your ass cheeks roughly, teasing his wet index finger along your backside, circling your puckered hole and causing you to squirm. He presses into you, working his finger in sync with his hips, massaging it into you until you manage to take him to the knuckle and he lets out a satisfied groan that you nearly drown out in your own wanton moan.

“Fuck.” He rasps out, pain blooming as he moves to add a second finger. You cry out at the intrusion, your hands clenching into fists above your head and your nails biting into your palms as he rocks his fingers into you, scissoring you open.

You thought you’d been full when it was only his cock but fuck, were you wrong.

It was too much.

It was too good.

The tension wound tight in your abdomen finally snaps and you completely shatter.

A choked sob rips from your throat and your pussy spasms, your walls fluttering around his cock and your asshole contracting around his fingers as you scream, your orgasm tearing through you with enough force to make your head spin and your ears ring.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He slips his fingers from your tight hole, grabbing hold of your hips with both hands and slamming into you with unrelenting force, fucking you through each wave of euphoria as they crashed over you in succession.

“I’m gonna tell them I killed you.” He grunts, his cock kissing your cervix. “So no one will ever come looking for you.”

You mumble incoherently, tears of ecstasy staining your cheeks as you lay limp in the wake of your earth shattering release while he continues to pound into you at a steady pace.

“I think I’ll keep you tied to my bed.” He whispers in a menacing tone, his thrusts growing frantic as he chases his impending orgasm. “I’m gonna fuck every hole in your body, every day, until you can’t fucking take it anymore.”

Bucky snaps his hips forward in one last powerful thrust and then stills, shouting a string of curses as his cock pulses and he pulls your plump ass flush to his pelvis, emptying himself deep inside of you.

He tilts his head back, his chest rising and falling erratically and then pulls out, staggering back as you rise up and turn to face him with flushed cheeks and hair slicked against your sweaty forehead.

“Get dressed.” He orders, tugging his jeans up and fastening his belt. “You’re coming with me.”

You nod and move on weak knees, feeling his cum slowly leaking from your cunt as you gather your blazer. He watches you carefully as you pull it on, buttoning it in an attempt to cover your naked body.

Bucky holds out his hand impatiently and you take it, cautiously moving closer to him, your thighs sticky as they rub together with every step you take.

You place a palm flat against his chest and he looks down at you with his brows furrowed in confusion at your gentle gesture before you rise up on your tiptoes, pressing your mouth against his. He stiffens momentarily but quickly reciprocates, his tongue teasing at your bottom lip in a silent demand to deepen the kiss. You comply, moving your tongue slowly against his in a sensual dance and tracing your hands along his broad chest as you lean further into him.

When you break the kiss abruptly and step back out of his embrace, he blinks in bewilderment before his face contorts into rage as he registers that he’s staring into the barrel of his own gun.

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@littleone2001 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe

A/N: My husband gave me so much shit for this while I was writing it: tHiS iSnT cAnOn, BuCkY wOuLdNt Do ThAt, iT dOeSnT mAkE sEnSe

Look, I know. It’s a fanfic, it’s AU, it’s not canon.

Anyway, now I’m really anxious about posting this, worried that it won’t meet your expectations. So I hope you enjoy so I can tell my husband to suck it. 😈

💋Sj

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subwaysurf45 · 1 year

Text

Team Bucky

Summary: your secret relationship with Bucky slips out. Everyone else in the compound is happy for you both but your brother - or really your grandfather - is not pleased at all, all you can do is try and live normally with Bucky and attempt to fix things with Steve.

Words: 6k

warnings: SMUT: passionate sex, unprotected, very loving, aftercare. arguing, yelling, swearing, protective Bucky.

a/n: heyyy, yeah I’ve been away for a while, this semester as been kicking my ass. anyways, I’m on winter break and have finally gotten my spark for writing back, I’ve been writing a lot of essays so writing for fun was not fun for a while. I hope you enjoy and I will try to post as often as I can!

There had always been a secret one-upping game going on between Steve and Bucky, it was something everyone had exempted and went along with. There would be countless times when they’d add more and more weight to their bars in order to prove their dominance to each other, or spar with one another until someone gets hurt.

At galas, Steve would be walking around with a trail of women behind him, showing off his skills with the ladies. That didn’t mean anything to Bucky, he would love to get laid more often or get a girlfriend but the ability to make women think they are into you and then drop them like a dead weight isn't appealing.

There were probably things Bucky did to get on Steve’s nerves that Steve didn’t care for. They didn’t do it all the time, just friendly competition. They had been friends for years and years, someone’s weight being a little higher couldn’t even cause a crack in their friendship.

But what Bucky was doing recently would.

There you were, sitting alone in the office as you filled out a debrief of your last mission. The computers were high tech but that didn’t mean they were super fast, most of the time you sat there waiting for anything to load, and seeing the logo in the top corner was a miracle.

“How’s that arm?” Bucky asked as he walked in, acting like he hadn’t been standing outside the door practicing what he was going to say.

“Hard to type with-aw, Bucky…” you pouted and saw the two steaming mugs in his hand, “stop, that’s so sweet!” you reached forward and picked up your favourite mug, looking at Bucky with wide eyes as he pulled out the chair beside you and sat down. “This is going to take forever, Bucky, you don’t-”

“I’m good,” Bucky sighed as he brought his mug right against his bottom lip to blow, “nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“You’re all soft” you giggled and turned back to your computer, “I do need to focus though, no distractions.”

“You have my word,” Bucky smiled and leaned back in his chair, “I’m just here for moral support.”

You just nodded, he loved the face you made when you tried to fight back being flustered. Your bottom lip was clenched tightly between your teeth to fight back a smile while you tried to cover your face and block Bucky from seeing your slight change in colour. The warmth that spread all throughout your body caused you to curl into yourself, he noticed that whenever he complimented you at all you wouldn't know how to react, telling Bucky you weren’t being complimented enough.

That’s how it started, casual compliments and conversation between you two. Trying to get to know you because there was this imaginary wall up for many reasons, you didn’t like to let people into your life because of how much you had lost and something more pressing…

You were Steve’s granddaughter, factually. But you two acted like siblings because you were a little younger than Steve’s age from when he was frozen. Nonetheless, you were related.

Which also meant off-limits.

Bucky really tried to cut himself off but you were his drug, he couldn’t get enough of you. It didn’t help that you were very honest early on about being into him. When Bucky initiated conversations and would give you little touches here and there you were quick to give them back. The first time you played with his hair gave him shivers running up and down his spine but also caused his brain to go fuzzy.

You were alone in the movie room, you always watched some film every Thursday night to keep a schedule. He had come back from a mission hours ago and still managed to make his way down just to sit beside you, and he did but he realized he was too tired to do anything.

He wanted you to cuddle into him and he’d rub your back or whisper little things to just you, but his eyes couldn’t stay open.

“You’re so tired, Bucky-bear,” you whispered and threw your arm around him and to the other side of his head, gently pushing him to place his head on your shoulder, “you can go to sleep if you want,” you whispered.

His body was on his last reserve, not thinking straight at all. “Can I put my head on your chest, your shoulder is too boney,” he’d kick himself for that one in the morning. When you giggled and moved he seemed to sink into you more, wrapping both arms around you and nuzzling into your chest. Everything was so comfy he barely registered that his face was deep between your boobs, you didn’t move or say anything until… “you’re so pillowy,” he muttered.

“But my shoulder is boney?” you shook your head, “you can just say you like my boobs, most people do.”

“They’re great,” he nodded.

Your hand moved from his back and went up his scalp from his neck, earning a groan when you started to fluff around his hair and scratch somewhat intensely on his scalp. He was out before the beginning credits ended, snoring before the middle of the movie. Part of you felt this overwhelming feeling of something you couldn’t describe, Bucky Barnes, a man riddled with nightmares and trauma, constantly on high alert was asleep on your chest. The big man could dwindle down into a guy who has never once felt the touch of love from a significant other. The fact that he trusted you with the power made you proud, it made you like him just a little more.

“How much longer,” he sighed from his starfish position on the floor, being overly dramatic to try to get you to look away. You giggled and finally looked over your shoulder, scoffing at his dramatics.

“Go to bed, I’ll sneak in later.” You shook your head, “and one page left.”

Bucky sighed and sat up, staying on the ground and watching you work. It took a while but soon you were finished, reading it over before submitting it. Bucky helped you pack all your stuff away, holding your bag for you, he did that a lot, never wanting you to do any heavy lifting. Your eyes were barely open as you left the room with Bucky leading you out, you both headed down the hall and to the elevator.

“You still want to sleep with me?” Bucky asked when the door was completely closed, you were too tired to say anything, keeping your head resting against his arm and nodded slightly. “Alright, I think there is still a sweater you left in the room.”

You groaned and looked up, “your clothes please,” Bucky giggled after you whispered. The door opened and you both walked out, him wrapping an arm around you to keep you steady. “I also want to be little spoon please.”

Out of nowhere, a voice came from behind them, “watch your hands, Barnes,” it was Steve.

Bucky turned around but kept his hand where it was, “guess where I just found her?” Steve looked at your tired state, “little miss just finished her report is only going to bed now, I was walking her to her room to make sure she doesn’t pass out on her floor.”

Steve smiled a proud smile. He caught up to them and also helped you walk, subconsciously you leaned more towards Bucky at this moment, thinking of how you’d be cuddling with him soon. Bucky played along and brought you into your room, Steve was very adamant they both left before you got into your pajamas. Bucky couldn’t say no even though he had seen you naked, he had to play along.

Bucky went into his room and waited with the door unlocked, after five minutes you slipped in and found him in the bathroom. Both of you brushed your teeth beside one another, he had one arm around you while you looked at each other through the mirror.

In your opinion, his bed was much more comfortable, choosing to sleep there more often than your own bed. Both of you cuddled in close, you were practically laying on top of him with your head tucked into his neck.

“I love you, Bucky-Bear,” you mumbled, snuggling closer to him.

“I love you too, baby,” he whispered into your hair, leaving a few kisses after. “You make me so happy, I can’t explain it,” you both giggled as he tickled you.

The secret life with Bucky was great and terrible at the same time. There was a different side to Bucky that he didn’t show the team, he was much softer and more extroverted. When you’d sneak out for dates he’d always be the ordering and making conversation with the waiter because he felt safer at that moment. But at the same time, you still had to go on dates by sneaking out. Steve would kill you if he found out the two of you were seeing each other even though it had been going on for a while you both knew it wasn’t a joke. Your heart would still fall when Bucky had to drop your hand when someone else walked in a room, and both of you would grow envious of the couples openly displaying affection at galas.

The idea of telling Steve grew larger by the day because you knew it was bound to happen, part of you wanted to tell him before getting caught so it didn’t look like Bucky was just a hook-up to you. Yes, Steve would kill you but he would also tear Bucky apart because there were rules, apparently. Any type of family member was off-limits, even if Steve found a distant cousin of Bucky’s they would still be a no-go; but you knew that rule was just for you because you were all Steve had left when it came to family.

********

Steve and Bucky were sparring in the ring as you and a couple of other agents went to various machines during your workout. You couldn’t help but look over at them as they fought extremely hard against one another, there was no reason to give each other a broken nose but they did it anyway.

“Can I work in?” Sammy asked you, he had graduated from the academy the same year as you. You wouldn’t consider yourselves friends but you’d smile at each other in the hall and keep up with families.

“Of course,” you stood up from just sitting on the seat as you took your break, leaning down and picking up your water bottle. Absentmindedly you looked over to see the both of them fighting, Sammy must have noticed.

“I don’t get the game between the two of them,” he grunted, “I get it from a male perspective as in you constantly want to impress your friends but sometimes it gets bad, like what are they even doing right now?” he referenced both of them limping around the ring as they circled one another.

“Boys!” you shouted and they both looked at you, “quit putting on a show for us and just act like normal people for once in your life!” you cupped both hands around your mouth.

Bucky looked shocked, “we’re just playing around, relax!” he sassed you back, it was clear on your face you didn’t enjoy what he said, “oh come on, you always get like this, give us a break!”

“Watch it!” Steve snapped, “you better watch how you talk to my sister.” Steve looked back at you, “and you!” he pointed in your direction, “let the grown men handle their things, please.”

Bucky scoffed, “you better watch how you talk to my girlfriend.”

At that moment the world stopped. Steve whipped his head around to Bucky and just stared at him while Sammy dropped the handhelds for the machine, letting out a loud clunk. Bucky’s eye shifted towards you in what felt like slow motion as an apologetic look grew on his face, your metal water bottle slipped from your fingers and fell on your foot.

“Fuck!” the feeling of a throbbing big toe pulled you from your trance, all you heard was more commotion in front of you but you were looking down.

“You’re fucking my sister?!” Steve yelled and caused all the agents to run out of the gym, including Sammy who quickly patted your shoulder before bolting out. Bucky tried to run over to you to help with the toe injury but was stopped after Steve’s fist collided with Bucky’s throat. “You don’t get to even look at her anymore, I’ll take your fucking eyes out you pervert!”

“Steve!” you hobbled over and ran up to the ring, slipped under and grabbed Bucky’s head that was unmoving on the boxing ring floor, “you knocked him unconscious, Steve,” you gasped and pulled Bucky’s head to your thighs as you sat back on your heels, “you could have damaged his windpipe.”

“He won’t need one after he wakes up and I fully-”

“It’s not like he forced me, Steve,” You looked up at your brother, “we’ve been dating for a long time and it’s not just sex, it’s an actual romantic connection that both of our consent to, it’s actual dating!” you gently tapped Bucky’s cheek to wake him up, “don’t frame him or me to be a slut because all we do are normal dating things,” Steve’s face was red as he saw you carding through Bucky’s hair, he was starting to groan and stir.

“Both of you are dead to me,” Steve spat, “he broke the only rule I set up to protect you.”

“I don’t need to be protected from Bucky, and you know that.” you harshly whipped your head around again, “and I know you’re hurt and exaggerating, just walk away.” That was the last time you looked up at Steve, all your focus was on Bucky starting to wake up in your lap. As he groaned and slowly brought his fingers up to his nose your eyes began to water, this was exactly your worst-case scenario.

Bucky’s eyes cracked open and immediately closed again, “baby,” he mumbled, “don’t cry, please, don’t cry,” he reached up to swipe away your tears but completely missed your face, most likely seeing double. “I slipped up,” now Bucky was starting to cry, “my fault.”

You gently pulled him up in a hug and Bucky accepted it, continuously apologizing for what he had just done. Every time you’d quiet him or try to shift his train of thought but he’d make his way back there every time. After a while you got him on his feet and took him to med bay, many people came up to you and asked if everything was alright, you just nodded and kept walking.

“What happened!” Natasha was in med bay when you arrived, filling out discharge paperwork for herself, “Bucky, that looks really broken,” her fingers ghosted over his nose which caused him to wince backwards, “sorry.”

“Yeah,” you sighed and sat him on the cot, calling over a nurse who began examining, “just…going too hard with the sparring.”

Natasha shook her head, “but no one goes that hard, we all pull our punches except when it’s Steve and- oh my god…” she trailed off and looked at Bucky who was preparing to get his nose snapped back in place, “did Steve find out?”

“My fault,” Bucky cried, holding the sheet as he waited for the nurse to fix his nose.

“It’s not your fault, it was a mistake and yeah this is shitty but it will figure itself out.” you looked over your shoulder and immediately gave Bucky your hand, seeing his white knuckles gripping his sheets.

******

It had been a week and Steve refused to speak to either of you unless it was in a professional setting, even then, he’d be snarky whenever he would talk to you. He meant what he said, you really were dead to him. Part of you thought he’d just be mad at Bucky and get overprotective of you but that never happened, he viewed you like dirt; like how he looks at Bucky.

Bucky could see how it took a toll on you, it broke his heart to see you staring off into space after Steve passed by without looking at you. All Bucky could do was hold you closer, but deep down he blamed himself for letting it slip. Every tear, every longing glance, every hope he’d come around was all his fault.

He found you today curled up in bed, Bucky slipped in behind you and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest. “Everything will simmer sooner or later,” he whispered into your ear.

“I just-...” you sighed and buried your head into your pillow further, “he’s my only family, when he wanted to reconnect with me he was so adamant on making sure I came back to the tower with him, so he could have a sister,” Bucky rolled you over so you were facing him, “and now…I do something for me that makes me happy, you make me so happy, and I’m punished for it.”

Bucky planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, pulling you into another hug and letting you feel his warmth and comfort. “I will personally fix all of this, I will find a way, don’t worry, alright?” Bucky pulled back so he could see you nod, “alright?”

You nodded and Bucky kissed you again, crawling out of bed when you fell asleep. He knew where Steve was, and even though his nose had held quickly doesn’t mean he won’t get another broken nose from what he was about to do. Steve was always in the computer room, just like you. There was always something to be done when it came to paperwork and Steve had the energy for it.

Bucky stayed close to the wall and pressed his back against it, leaning over the corner to see Steve typing away at the computer near the back. Bucky pulled back and fully leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath.

Nat: We’re taking y/n out for a girl’s night, just want to let you know!

Bucky: keep me updated, and don’t let her get too drunk, please

Nat: don’t worry!

After shutting off his phone he slipped it into his pocket and took another deep breath. After mustering enough courage Bucky fully turned the corner and walked up to “Steve,” Bucky stood before him, “we need to talk.”

Steve gave nothing, he almost looked up at Bucky but it was just a flinch.

“Silent treatment?” Bucky scoffed, “that works for me to explain my side of the story without you verbally- or who knows - physically breaking me.” Steve huffed, Bucky looked at the chair but decided to stand. “I’ve been dating your sister for about a year and she’s made me the happiest man in the world,” Bucky fiddled with his fingers, “and I know we made rules and all that but this isn’t about that, we can discuss that later.” Bucky saw Steve was no longer typing but simply staring at his screen. “Steve, your sister misses you so much, she’s been curled up in bed crying about losing you, feeling punished for letting herself love someone, she’s kicking herself for something that was all my fault; I slipped up and y/n should be the last one to pay for it.” Bucky gave in and pulled up a chair, making Steve look at him, “I don’t care if we never talk again but my girlfriend is hurting and that’s what’s been killing me the most, so just talk to her, please?”

Bucky sat there, looking at his vacant face. After a sigh, Bucky rubbed his face and stood up, tucking in the chair. He ran his fingers through his hair, “y/n’s out for drinks with a couple of the girls,” Bucky said, “so she’s not here if you were thinking of talking to her.” Bucky left after that, knowing Steve wasn’t going to say anything.

When you stumbled back inside Bucky was quick to catch you, “what did I say about not letting her get stupid drunk?” Natasha just giggled and Bucky couldn’t help but smirk at all the ladies making their way to the kitchen. “How’s my baby?” Bucky whispered into your ear which caused you to get coy and curl into him, “are you a little cuddly, huh?” his finger made its way under your chin which caused you to giggle. You jumped on him to wrap your legs around his hips.

“I love you, Bucky-Bear,” you hugged him tightly, “we can run away together and never worry about anything ever again, do you want to run away with me?” you kissed Bucky’s neck as he walked into the kitchen to see them all eating chips and cookies.

“Sure we can,” he moved his head so you’d detach your lips from his neck and just cuddle into him.

Bucky stood with the group and held you like you were nothing, laughing and talking while the girls did their debrief at the kitchen island, talking about the songs and the dancing. Bucky kept you in his arms but placed you down so you were sitting on the island, letting your legs and arms wrap around him. You weren’t talking that much, Bucky looked over after five minutes of nothing to see you sleeping with your face on his shoulder.

“She did start to cry,” Natasha said sadly, “she had a lot of pent-up emotion and our uber cancelled on us twice so she was just really frustrated, but we all know she wasn’t crying about the uber.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed and rubbed your back, “I talked to Steve and told him to stop hurting her, you know?” Bucky looked at Nat and she nodded, “like he can be mad at me for as long as he likes, but stop doing this to your own sister, I can’t stand to see her like this, it’s awful.”

“I know,” Nat was the only one invested in the conversation, everyone else would forget this in the morning. “I feel like it’s borderline…I don’t want to say slut shaming but I can’t understand why he would be mad at her, I feel like he’d blame it all on you and only take it out on you- I know you didn’t do this but I thought he was going to pull the ‘you coerced my sister into dating you’ card… I really don’t understand his silent treatment,” Nat sighed and took a swig from her water bottle.

“I guess,” Bucky sighed and picked you up, having to hold you tightly because you were asleep and unable to squeeze your legs around his waist. “I’m going to get her ready for bed,” Bucky tried his best to smile, “I really appreciate you, Nat, she needed this.”

“She did,” Nat ran her fingers over your hair, “as much as she’s going to hate the hangover I think she really drained her emotions out and just let go for a moment,” Nat smiled at Bucky, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Bucky left the kitchen, the moment he turned he turned the corner he saw Steve. He was trying to slip away after eavesdropping but Bucky caught him, all Bucky could do was keep walking; he’s said his piece.

“Is she ok?” Steve finally spoke as Bucky passed him with his chin up.

“From being shunned by her brother or her night out?” Bucky snapped, not even looking at Steve and heading to his room down the hall.

After making it to his room he got you ready for bed, cuddling up next to you and holding you close. He had already gotten the water and painkillers ready for tomorrow morning. All he could do now is hold you, making you as comfortable as possible.

As Bucky lay there with your head on his chest, hearing your drunk snores, he thought about Steve. Bucky reminisced all the days together, growing up and finding one another again. Part of him questioned if all of their history went away the moment he found out, was this really the breaking point for Steve? All he wanted was for you to be happy with your brother but selfishly, he wanted his friend back.

“I can, like, hear your brain,” you mumbled and hugged him tighter, “we’ll figure this out in the morning, just forget it happened and hold me normally, please.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile, he rolled you both on your sides and kept you wrapped up. Getting into the familiar position his eyes started to feel heavy, and soon sleep took over.

********

Bucky stood in the kitchen by himself, sipping his coffee and watching the eggs and bacon cook. It has been two days since you had gotten drunk and Bucky talked to Steve, nothing had come out of Bucky’s attempt to get Steve to talk to you.

He could tell you were becoming depressed from losing your brother, the two of you were inseparable so it hurt a lot to have him cleanly break away from you. But all Bucky could do was continue to support you, and he did that by making you breakfast.

He flipped both eggs and poked at the bacon, trying not to have the grease spit back out at him, you were currently at the gym but he’d already be back in the room before you were done.

All at once, Sam ran into the kitchen, covered in sweat. “Barnes!” he yelled, “your girl is screaming at Steve in the gym-”

“Shit!” Bucky dropped everything and ran, quickly turning around and moving everything off the element while turning the stove top off. Bucky followed Sam all the way to the gym and busted through the door, immediately hearing your raging voice. “Everyone out!” he yelled at the agents standing and watching.

“Bucky, I can do this on my own!” you snapped at him, caught up in the anger towards your brother.

“I’m well aware,” Bucky put both of his hands out, “I’m just giving you two privacy, that’s all, love.” Bucky nodded when he saw you relax your shoulders, “I’m going to be right outside when you’re done, alright?”

Steve turned to Bucky, “you really love her?” he asked.

Bucky slowly tilted his head to the side, “I’ve been dating her for a year, crushing on her for two, and being fully hypnotized by her for three the moment she showed up to this place.” He looked at you, “can I keep going, or do you want this to still be you?”

“See,” you looked at Steve, “he cares about me, on a personal level that no one ever has,” you threw your arms in the air, “you need to accept this or I will have no problem sticking with Bucky.”

“You’d turn your back on your family?” Steve laughed to himself, “you’d seriously stay with him rather than your own brother-”

“You’re not even really my fucking brother, Steve!” the anger was making you jump in your spot, “when you found out I was related to you, you chose to keep me in your life, it was quick because you knew how much family meant to you,” you walked over to Bucky, taking his hand in yours, “well he’s my family now, and when shit got rough Bucky was not the one to run away, Steve…” you looked up at Bucky who couldn’t take his eyes off of Steve, “we can go now,” you whispered to him.

Bucky walked with you to your room, completely forgetting the breakfast he had made to lighten your day. The entire time you were talking about how much lighter you felt, having the ability to scream at him even though no solution was reached. As he listened to you his heart broke, you tried so hard to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal when in reality it was, you just weren’t letting yourself fully feel it yet.

Right as the door to your shared room closed you spun and pushed Bucky up against the wall, “I love you,” you breathed before kissing him harshly, it took Bucky three seconds before pulling away and trying to ask if you were alright, “I want passionate sex right now, I want you to fuck me, baby.”

“Woah,” Bucky whispered, “you’re not…honey, you’re not in the right mindset right now, this is not-”

“Please, Bucky,” you whined and dropped down to your knees, running your hand up and down his thighs, “I really want this.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked, shamefully getting hard. When you nodded he picked you up and threw you on the bed, “you tell me if you want to stop, alright?”

“I never want to stop,” you whispered into his ear before sucking on his ear lobe, moving down to kiss his neck.

“Do you want me to go down on you-”

“I’m already wet, just go,” you moaned, blindly reaching down and beginning to work on his pants.

The moment Bucky entered you, you pulled him close, letting his entire body weight crush you in a soothing sort of way. At first, his face was right before yours, kissing you every so often but really just wanting to look at you.

“Pretty girl,” he groaned and tucked his face in your neck, “fuck, I love you, it’s always been you, it’ll always be you, honey- holy fuck!” his hands were moving around, feeling you and touching you all over. “You’re fucking perfect, made for me, I got you,” he sucked harshly on your neck, “I’ll always protect you, and love you, and just-I’m gonna cum, honey.”

“Me too!” you threw your head back, “I love you, Bucky,” your fingers were splayed across his back, “all I want is to run away with you, just you.” your words of love quickly shifted in moans, all you could do was let yourself get lost in the moment.

Bucky had a strong aura, it was one that made you feel protected but also reminded you that he was your rock. Passionate sex with Bucky was something else, he could get you to your peak faster than anyone just because of how much love you feel as he whispers in your ear.

The moment you both let go was a moment of pure bliss, all you could do was dig your nails further into Bucky’s back as he rode out his own high. He stilled after finishing and just stayed there, keeping his head in your neck. While he whispered praises to you, part of you filled with love, an overwhelming amount.

“I love you, Bucky,” you tried to sound put together but the moment the words left your lips Bucky looked up at you, seeing tears stream down your face, “I’m not crying because I didn’t want it, it’s just…” you could see him freaking out, “it’s not you, it’s left over emotion from that fight.”

Bucky nodded and stayed where he was until you began to shift, he wiped you down and got beside you in bed after a while. He made sure you had enough water in your cup beside you and you were warm enough under those sheets. There were a few more sniffles, you’d wipe your face in the shirt Bucky put on because he was cold.

“I just want things to work out,” you cried, “why can’t he see I’m happy and just be happy for me?” your arms hugged Bucky tightly, feeling him hug you back just as tight.

“We’ll figure it out,” his lips brushed against your ear, “everything will work out, you just need to sleep, alright?”

It didn’t take much to knock you out.

********

Bucky’s mission was taking longer than expected but he wasn’t in any danger, his communications back to the compound were perfect with his updates. You weren’t allowed to know where he was or what he was doing but you were allowed time-frame updates, all because you held the title of ‘family’ for his file.

You stood at the stove with an apron on, it had caught three splashes which you were grateful for. The pasta sauce was bubbling so it was close to being done, you had gotten an update saying he was coming home in the middle of the night. If you or Bucky had a mission that ended late the other person would leave a meal in the fridge for when they got home, something easy to throw in the microwave.

“Hey,” you knew that voice from anywhere.

“Hi, Steve,” you said with your back to him. Nothing had changed since then and it had been over two months, Steve was slowly starting to adapt to you and Bucky showing affection in public but he still didn’t talk to you more than he needed to.

“What are you making?” you heard him pull out a bar standing at the island.

You were past trying to reconcile with him, he was the one acting like a child. “Pasta sauce, for Bucky,” you quickly added.

“Oh yeah, I heard he’s coming home tonight,” you could hear how uneasy Steve was, the way his voice slightly shook as he spoke to you.

You could feel his eyes burning holes in your back but you paid no mind, continuing to stir the pot and dodge the few bubbles. “Yep, late.”

“Yep…” Steve sighed but didn’t move, you could hear him just sit there.

Trying to meet him halfway was exhausting, it seemed there was nothing you could do to make him feel better except break up with Bucky. That wasn’t going to happen, it also helped that Bucky was very mature during this, always communicating with you about how he felt and if you needed anything. It further proved how immature Steve was, seeing that a man the same age was able to deal with their emotions perfectly.

FRIDAY came through on the speakers, “Sargent James’ jet is landing now.”

You spun around with a gasp, “he was supposed to be here at three in the morning,” you completely blew past Steve and ran to the land spot, laughing to yourself as you pictured hugging him.

The moment you opened the doors Bucky was already running to you, “there’s my girl!” he yelled and wrapped his arms around you the moment he could reach you, “no injuries for me, how was the month?” he whispered.

“Same as always,” you sighed, “but I’m so happy you’re home,” you nuzzled into his chest.

“He followed you outside, what’s that about?” you didn’t look over your shoulder, trusting Bucky was right. After pulling out of a hug Bucky called, “what are you doing out here?” towards Steve.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he was talking to Bucky, “I need to go for a walk with you.”

“Whatever you need to say can be said in front of y/n as well, bud,” Bucky wrapped his arm around you, “seeing as the situation involves her.”

“Look,” Steve walked up and rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t fully approve of this but I do like the way you’re treating her, Buck, so…” he was awkward, not knowing how to word this because it seemed like a heat of the moment speech. “Yeah, I’m warming up to it.”

“Alright,” Bucky looked down at you, “I mean, that’s great but it doesn’t change anything about us, like,” Bucky laughed through the tension, “we’ve moved on like adults, I can honestly say we don’t care about what you think.”

“That’s a little intense,” you quickly added, “but I think what Bucky is trying to say is that we don’t need updates like this that you’re warming up to us dating because we are still going to date the same, your comfort is not a factor in our relationship.” you nodded and saw Steve’s face go red, “I hope one day we can be friends again and be buddies like before but right now, it’s team Bucky.”

Steve didn’t say anything else, he just watched you walk inside.

“Team Bucky?” he giggled in your ear, “I like it.”

You looked up at Bucky, “I have pasta sauce cooking, we can have it for dinner together.”

“Sounds good,” he kissed the crown of your head with his arm still wrapped around your waist, “can I make you a jersey that says team Bucky because I honestly love that?”

You laughed and fell into his side, “go for it,” he kissed you, “because it’s true.”

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buckyysdoll · 7 months

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— 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐚𝐭 —

જ⁀➴ — 18+ MDNI • summary: purely filth — dark!bucky//winter soldier smut; • cw: obvs 18+ !! dubcon, !! he is mean !! dom/sub dynamic, implied choking, dacryphilia?-> please don’t read this if you might find it upsetting !

MAIN MASTERLIST

Your mouth gapes of its own volition, breath hitching in your chest at the onslaught of him. No matter how many times you’d dreamt of this moment with your hand between your legs, regardless of all those sleepless nights spent picturing all the better ways he’d make you come —

You couldn’t have pictured it feeling like this. He was too big, and just wouldn’t fit.

A whimper tore free from your throat as your pussy took him in, inch by torturous inch, and while you tried to look down at the place where you joined, Bucky’s own eyes were fixed on your face.

You felt fingers come up under your chin, warm and strong, and then your face was roughly jerked up to his own. There was no warmth in that look, only cold calculation. Liquid heat pooled, rushed down your legs.

“Eyes on me, doll,” Bucky murmured with that smile on his mouth; it did not reach his eyes. But he was slipping in easier now, and though still not enough to stop hurting, you moaned.

You knew what he was like in this headspace; the famed Winter Soldier wasn’t tender, or soft. And though a part of you feared what he’d do, and missed your sweet Bucky — you wanted this more.

Wanted the way that he looked at you like you were born to be used by him, the way that he forced your eyes to his as he continued to sink himself deeper, fully stretching you out.

“Bucky, I — Soldat,” You knew it wasn’t Bucky who was with you tonight. “You’re not gonna fit, you’re too big.” The words rushed from your lips before thinking to stop them.

As they did, tears built in your eyes and god damn him, but the sight only made him harder. He spoke through gritted teeth, through his need, as he watched you toe the line between pleasure and pain.

“Cmon, just a little bit more,” he urged, thumb and forefinger still at your chin. When you opened your mouth to speak again, he made a sound low in his throat, and slipped his thumb forward into your mouth.

Your lips parted for him on an instinct, a response so immediate that pride swelled in Bucky. Ever his obedient girl, you sucked down, and let your thoughts train solely on him, on his touch.

God it was so easy to get you like this; compliant, ready for him to use.

His hips stuttered in their pace and you knew from this tell that already, he was close to release. Your thighs parted wider for him, all for him, and you felt so full that you hurt with it, ached.

At last, tears slipped down the side of your face but he loved it, and worse? So did you.

Bucky didn’t offer assurance, just watched you as you took him even deeper in your mouth. At the look in your eyes, pupils blown wide and just watching his own, he drove deeper inside of your warmth.

With a thrust came the murmur of “That’s it, you take me so well,” and your legs tried on instinct to close. Tried to find reprieve from the pleasure that was sweet, sweet hell — and that he alone would control.

When it happened for a second time though, Bucky yanked his thumb clean from your mouth, and a thin string of spittle hung for a brief moment and broke, the extraction so sudden, so cruel.

You yelped, eyes wide in response. You should’ve listened to him better, should’ve been more compliant —

Such vast contrast between empty and full was almost enough to distract you from his next words. Almost but still not quite; every inch of your body piqued up to attention.

Bucky’s eyes flashed, and then: “Do we really have to do this the hard way, sweetheart?” And his rough hand snaked its way around your soft throat, your gut clenching.

Fuck, what had you done?

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rassvetsky · 1 year

Text

Steel Blue

bucky barnes x reader

"Without giving you a chance to fight, Bucky left. For your own good. But almost a year later, as it turns out, neither of you can handle being apart, and Bucky missed you too much to play it nice when you're moaning out his name like that."

[4.3k] exes to lovers, angst to smut to fluff hehe, alcohol consumption, smoking, unprotected sex, making out, cunningulus, spit kink, marking, choking, bucky's such a gentleman i love him

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated. not proofread.

Soft chatter blended into the background as you kept your eyes blandly on the football match playing, small screen not doing the players any justice with the bird's-eye-view. Your fingers trailed the brim of your glass, favorite drink prepared the second you entered the pub, as you were probably the only regular there. That bartender had been a silent secret-keeper of yours for years now, and judging by how quiet and mellow you've been for the past year, he probably knew.

"Hey," he approached you with a smile after serving his last customers, the group carrying their glasses over to their designated table. He had a warm personality, a bit mysterious perhaps, but the unknown didn't scare you one bit. He was the type of person to make others feel safe. "Everything's gonna be alright. Just wanted to remind you of that."

"Thanks, Colin." you sighed, a thankful smile playing on your lips as you took the last sip of your drink, reaching for your wallet since it was late already.

Immediately, he reached over the bar to stop you, shaking his head to both sides with a frown. "It's literally impossible to convince you when something's on the house, isn't it?" he joked, earning a scoff from you. "Join me for a smoke break, clear your head a little. You drank a bit more than usual today."

"Nothing out of the ordinary." you heaved a sigh, letting your wallet find its space back in your pocket as you got up, following his lead through the bar to the front entrance. You saw him fish for the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket in the dark, and you reached for your lighter, igniting the flame and holding it against the tip of his tab when he placed it in between his lips, as he took in a long drag, locking the fire in.

You leaned on the wall and watched him as he took another cigarette out and replaced the other, using the already lit one to light that up before handing the one he had in between his fingers to you. You took it, swirled the thin roll between your fingers to get a read of the label, before taking a long, long drag.

It was a bit quiet after that.

"I saw Bucky last week," he admitted, tone soft, almost apologetic. "Asked me 'bout you. How you're doing, and all that."

"Should've told him to piss off."

"He's not a bad guy, Y/N. You know that better than I do." Colin's sigh pulled an eye roll out of you. "It's been, what, ten months? A year? Forgive and move on, sweetheart, it's the only way your heart could find peace."

"I forgave him the second he left, forgiving is not the issue." you shook your head, a bitter chuckle leaving your lips as you watched smoke leave Colin's, urging you to take yet another drag. Letting it burn through your lungs, you exhaled, closing your eyes momentarily. "Can't forget. The only peace my heart ever knew was him."

And how funny fate was, that a second before Colin started speaking again, your eyes met someone else's in a slight distance.

Those steel blue eyes that used to let you know where home was. Your safe place.

Colin followed your gaze through, offering a tight smile to the man, current subject of your conversation. He didn't see it though, too focused on the cigarette between your lips and the hurt in your eyes. Breaking away from the trance rather quickly, he looked ahead again, steps rushing but not towards you. And with that, he left. Not even sparing a hello.

It's been a year since you last saw him. And it hurt like hell.

It wasn't uncommon for you to wake up to an empty bed, the warmth of your boyfriend which you fell asleep with long gone, instead replaced by a ruthless cold that took over your entire body, the longer your gaze lingered on his side.

It wasn't uncommon for him to be apathetic at times. You knew what he went through and what his mind was still putting him through, but you always made sure to let him know that it was okay for him to approach you, seek refuge in your arms and close his eyes, only to think about absolutely nothing. No worries, no demons chasing him through; just you. Just the moment.

But that morning a year ago, the dread you felt buried deep within your chest let you know that there was more to him just getting up earlier than you when you woke up to his side being cold again. You could still feel the kiss he left by your hairline before he left in the morning, semi-asleep state not allowing you to pull him back to bed when your dreams sounded sweeter to go back to.

You could feel your heart beating by your fingertips when you blindly reached for the folded paper you noticed by the bedside drawer, unfolding carefully only to be met with Bucky's handwriting, hard to read for everyone but you.

You wished that you never ever learned how to read then.

You could tell by the crookedness of the lines and rounds that his hands were shaky as he wrote away, starting off his note with your name, lettering almost apologetic.

Thank you for making my life a lot more bearable, it read, as you ruffled through the lines with your eyes, unable to concentrate on one sentence at a time. I've always been a firm believer that love and respect are earned, and unfortunately, I never earned your love no matter how keen you were to give it to me. I loved you more than I could ever begin to comprehend, yet you deserved more than I could give.

You felt hot tears pushing through, creating a pathway through your cold cheeks, salt lines leading the way down to your neck as you blinked once, twice, trying to get rid of them as much as you could just so you could keep reading.

No matter how much I want to be selfish, I couldn't possibly do that to you. There's a lot of things in this world that you need to experience. You don't deserve to be staying up all night and ruining your tomorrow just so you can hold me through a nightmare. You deserve to be happy, unconditionally. And I know this isn't a good way of ensuring that, but at least this way I'll be sure that I'm not the one holding you back. The guilt of it is unbearable.

Bucky. A fair man. Yet he never gave you a chance to fight.

So, as petty as it is, you didn't try to get him back. As your fingers clutched the collar of the hoodie, borrowed from him; you set the paper down next to you, a heavy sob breaking through before you laid down again, knees to your chest.

I'm going to love you 'till the end of time.

Your legs worked faster than your brain could, as they led the way to the pub a week later. It was routine at that point, you never liked to drink all that much but not like you had anyone left to talk to. Most of your friends were busy with life, understandably, as you lingered over the same sore spot for god knows how long.

Colin's smile invited you in, he already had his jacket on as sometimes he left a bit earlier, leaving the bar to his cousin. The latter was still a student, thankful for every moment that Colin let him work there, as money was tight for everyone and it was hard to find a place for yourself in the job market. "Hey, love." pulling you into a hug, Colin patted your shoulder, head signaling towards the bar. "Someone's waiting for you."

Taken aback, you frowned. Not a lot of people knew about your little routine, and probably nobody in your life would show up at a random pub with hopes of you hopping by, without even a heads-up. "Who?"

"Go see for yourself. I need to go, though, please don't hate me when I'm back."

That sounded like you were about to have a real good reason to hate him once he was back.

Nonetheless, you waved him goodbye, before making your way over to the bar and scanning the people that sat by it. Spotting an empty stool, the figure next to it felt awfully familiar, quickening the beating of your heart and the intake of your breaths as you swallowed down a lump on your throat, slowly making your way over to it.

His eyes met yours again. Almost lit up, even.

"Baby."

You were bitter, Bucky was guilty.

Understandably.

As you sipped through the pint of Guinness he ordered for you, he kept playing with his fingers, gloves left on the bar long ago as if he was trying to show you that he was better.

And indeed, he was.

He pushed through.

And you couldn't help but feel like maybe that's because of the lack of you in his life, although it seemed to be far from the actual case. He was actually happy to see you, ecstatic even, as your sight was the only thing he wished for in the past year. Every night was spent ruffling through memories of you, snippets of how warm your embrace would feel, how your kisses would ignite a thousand fires on his soul and how you'd smile up at him as if he hung the stars.

He missed you enough to go crazy.

And you missed him too, but you were as stubborn as a mule. God, you were so bullet-headed that he could barely bring himself to look at you, guilt eating him alive from the inside, fear of never being understood laid deep within his chest.

But you understood him. Forgave him. Knew why he left, knew why he felt like he had to.

You were just so angry at him that he took your only source of happiness away from you.

"Sounds eventful." you muttered after he gave you a short recap of how his year went, chuckling to yourself a bit. Barely anything had changed for you except that you hated going home now, knowing that Bucky, your Bucky wouldn't be there to pull you into his embrace and keep you away from whatever was plaguing you all day. You used to love going back home to him back then.

Bucky kept the silence going for a little while, before reaching from under the bar to brush his fingers against yours. Even the slightest touch like that burned his eyes with tears threatening to escape, he was desperate, so desperate that he could get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness, for you to give him something, anything, perhaps a hug or at the very least, a shove.

"I can't do this anymore." he admitted, tone sheepish. "I came here a couple of weeks ago, asked Colin about you- and fuck, I hoped that you'd be happy, I prayed every night for you to already have forgotten about me-" a sigh left his lips. "But hearing that you were… It broke me. It broke my heart again and I- I'm sorry. I don't- there's no excuse, but I miss you. And I love you, so much."

His voice was breaking.

You couldn't help but sniffle, and grab his hand. Your hold was firm, determined, almost filled with passion, even.

"I forgave you long ago, Buck." you whispered, the nickname washing out quite a bit of his worries as he leaned in a bit, just to hear you better. To hear you closer. "But I don't think you understand what exactly you ripped apart from me when you left. How- How could you even begin to think that I'd be happier without you?" a single tear traveled down your cheek. "As if I'm as pure as the driven snow. As if I gave you anything remotely close to what you actually deserve."

"You gave me more than-"

"No, shut up," you snapped, shaking your head. "Seriously, drop that bullshit. We were perfect for each other and you- you were just-"

You couldn't bring yourself to say it. Because you knew that it wasn't what you actually felt, it wasn't what you actually wanted to say.

With a sigh, his gaze dropped to the floor. Thinking over everything the two of you had been through. Countless nights spent with you nursing him back to the present with quiet shushes, whispers of 'I'm here, you're with me, safe'. Countless hours of your gentle fingers working shampoo through his hair, massaging his scalp, patching up his bruises. You never mentioned it, never used it against him, instead talked him through the process by telling him about your day; about the flock of birds you saw by the port, about a cute snail you found stranded in the middle of the pavement and carried to safety.

About life.

You kept reminding him that there was a world around him, detached from his own bubble.

When he looked back up at you, his gaze held a thousand words that he didn't have the power to speak out loud at that moment, and a thousand stars. Which, again, you were sure that he hung, himself.

And a silent agreement surged through the both of you then.

Bucky could still walk the way to your bedroom with his eyes closed, or rather, occupied. You giggled at the realization, legs wrapping up around his waist a bit tighter but you knew that even if you let go, he'd hold you.

He was keeping you tight against him as if you'd disappear right before his eyes.

His lips didn't leave an inch untouched, shirt long gone by the living room, straps of your bra pushed down as he bit down on the thin skin near your collarbones. He imagined this moment at least a million times when he was alone, guilt seeping through his veins but even the thought of you kept him going, tight around his length as he fucked his fist, imagining, wishing, praying that it was you instead.

And although he promised himself that he'd take it slow and savor it if he ever got the chance again, that promise was long forgotten the second you pressed your lips against his.

He wasn't rushing, he had all night anyway but god, he was unhinged; uncontrollable with the way a low growl left his lips when he finally laid you down on the bed, a broken moan leaving your own lips when his clothed length pressed against your core. Your hips jumped up to meet his halfway through as you tugged on the end of his shirt to pull it up, and he allowed you to do that, discarding the piece of fabric somewhere on the floor before he reached in for a kiss.

It was wet, messy, sloppy even- but it had been way too long for any of you to care. You missed feeling his lips against yours, spit leaving a trail in between whenever the two of you parted to catch your breath. Your lower lip got caught between his teeth as he tugged slightly, not even bothering to play nice when his tongue grazed yours, hands all over your body as you squirmed under his weight. His lips traveled all the way down to your neck again, ruthless with the way he was abusing your skin, making sure that the reminders of that moment would stay for at least a day or two.

You were his, and he wasn't going to let his insecurities take you away from him this time.

Your fingers tangled through his hair, keeping him tight against your skin with a whisper of his name, body practically on fire with the way you were just so desperate to feel him against you, impossibly closer. It wasn't enough, and it felt like it'd never be.

"Baby, please," you breathed out, hardly able to even speak with how dried up your throat felt already. He only hummed against your skin, hands making their way in between the bed and your back to unclasp your bra, pulling it through your arms before throwing it elsewhere.

"Please what?" the look in his eyes made you feel like he'd give you the world at that moment if you asked, lips pink, swollen & wet. You couldn't find an answer- you were so ready to take just whatever he saw fit, mind buzzy with the way he kept grinding on you mindlessly. All those fabrics must've felt like a crowd to him too, as he pulled away a little to peel your jeans off, his own following suit. "Tell me what you want."

"You know exactly what I want, stop teasing," your tone was meant to be threatening but it came out more of a whine than anything else, as your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head when he landed a harsh spank on your inner thigh. "Fuck- sorry, 'm sorry," you slurred, already drunk with everything about him. "Just- please, anything."

"Been too long that you're not as vulgar as you used to be," he snickered, specifically slow as he tugged his boxers off, crawling right back to you just to trail soft & wet kisses across your abdomen, tickling you a bit but you didn't have it in you to complain. "You'd lay there for hours just begging for my cock, wouldn't you, baby?"

Your mindless nod pulled a chuckle from him as he reached further south, one kiss right above where your underwear ended before hooking a finger through the cloth, pulling it across your legs. "Kept thinking of you. Kept thinking about how wet you always got for me." he whispered, fingertips slowly leading the way to your core, now bare and drenched with expectation as you squirmed, nodding rapidly as if to confirm that.

A dragged out mewl finally left you when he ran his flesh fingers through your soaked folds, hissing out a curse before gripping your thigh and pulling you closer, face already level with your entrance. "Bucky, Bucky, baby," you mumbled, fingers treading through his hair when his tongue made contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves, wet fingers teasing your entrance as he savored the taste.

He wasn't as patient for much longer though, as he pulled away for a bit to let a ball of his spit fall and soak through your already damp core. Using that leverage to push two of his fingers in, he curled them slightly in the way he knew would affect you the best. The slight graze against your walls pulled a sob through you, as you threw your head back against the mattress, back arching when he trapped your clit in between his lips again, sucking and licking until you were reduced to a whimpering mess beneath his hold. Your cries weren't as silent anymore as you moaned out his name, louder than you meant to, the time spent apart definitely showing its effects as you could already feel a familiar coil forming.

The only thing that could be heard throughout your rather quiet apartment was the slurping sounds of his lips against your core, groans that left him when he grazed his clothed length against the mattress and your loud pleas, screams of his name with a few tears escaping. It was too much, it was too less, it was perfect and everything in between as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, abusing your clit in a way that you'd only let him.

That coil didn't take too long to snap, vision blurry until white, his stubble glistening under the dim light with your essence. He felt every single bit of his body taken over with primal urge, wanting to taste you and use you until you couldn't even form a thought, but good lord, he tried too hard to push that back and show you just how much he missed you. Your body was still shaky as he helped you ride through the high, sensitive to the touch, flinching and squirming without much effort.

The harmony between the two of you was impossible to miss when he pushed himself up and forward just to find you awaiting him there, lips parted and tongue out to be given what you deserve. Bucky let a mix of his spit and your wetness fall on your tongue then, as you swallowed it all down with gratitude, body melting against his when he wrapped his arms around you, giving you a moment to recover. "Tell me you love me."

You couldn't reply properly then, only a soft whine leaving your lips before his metal fingers suddenly wrapped around your neck, squeezing from both sides slightly to pull that answer out of you. "Love you so much," you dragged out, a bit woozy. "More than anythin'."

His smile was animalistic as he lined his length up with your entrance, running the tip along your folds to spread your wetness around, your shaky intake of breath indicating just how sensitive you got from only one orgasm.

He wanted more.

"Love you more, baby." he whispered before pushing the tip in, the stretch causing you both to groan in unison as he slowly bottomed out, pulling out a bit just to thrust right back in. "Fuck, still so tight for me. You were made for me, weren't you?"

You could only nod, unable to form any coherent sentences at that moment as your lips parted, gasps leaving through with every single thrust until he got a little meaner. Your gasps left their place for broken moans and sobs then, the force of him on top of you pushing you deeper into the mattress, the guttural groans leaving his lips jerking you further towards the edge of completely losing your self-control.

This is not where you expected to end up tonight, but you were so ready to thank every single supreme being you could think of.

His grip on your neck got tighter, free arm used to keep his body up on top of you as you held onto him for your life, nails definitely leaving marks through his back and shoulders when you dug in. He didn't mind, if anything, the pain only made him want to ruin you harder, keep you sore for days just to return to you whenever he saw fit. His hot breath rhythmically hit your neck as he gasped against the skin, hips drilling into you with so much force that the intensity got you shaking again.

Metal fingers trailed down in between your bodies to circle your clit, harsh material forcing a louder moan out of you as you spread your legs a bit wider for him, the stretch burning through your joints. You were dangerously close already, clenching around his length uncontrollably, intense enough to elicit dragged out and loud moans from him.

"Good fucking girl," he growled against your ear, soft pants leaving his lips as he took a deep breath. "Come for me, c'mon. Give me what I want." his words barely made any sense to you, as you were way too preoccupied with the loud sounds you let out, mind busy trying to fight off the fog that took over.

And that fog didn't dissipate until it was finally too much to take in, a heavenly sense of relief surging through your body with heavy tremors, breath held behind a gasp and eyes rolled close. He wasn't too far behind, pace already faltering when his moans got even more broken, unable to keep it together with the tight grip you had on his length as he pushed deep and filled you up- right to the brim.

With your neck free from his hold, and his weight no longer on you but next to you- you could open your eyes again. Both of you were still panting, trying to recover from what just happened- and speaking of that, Bucky's eyes were on your blissed face, looking for any sort of regret but all he could see when you finally looked up at him was pure happiness in your eyes.

You were still capable of looking at him like he hung the stars for you.

A smile broke out on his lips before he pulled you close, sticky bodies wrapping around one another but you were too high to care, especially when he ran his fingers all over your body and pressed his lips against yours. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," you chuckled wearily. "Really good."

"I'm glad." with his soft whisper, you closed your eyes again. "You can go to sleep if you want, I'll clean you right up and cuddle you."

You wanted to go back to sleep. Hell, you could sleep all day if left unsupervised but seeing Bucky under the morning light, fast asleep with soft snores leaving him was a sight to behold.

You couldn't take your eyes off of him.

Your fingers went up to caress his face, tracing his features as a sigh left your lips. He was so beautiful, looked so peaceful and you were really torn between wanting him to wake up and wanting him to get some rest. But the latter didn't seem to be happening anytime soon as he smiled, eyes still closed, just a sleepy hum leaving him. "Morning," he spoke, voice a little raspy from all that sleep.

"I love you." you whispered, smiling along when he opened his eyes and nodded. He knew, he never for once doubted your love- not because you were a master at reminding him that every day but because he always felt it in his bones when you were around.

"I love you too, so much," he whispered back. "And I'm never ever leaving the love of my life again."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

3K notes · View notes

nev3rfound · 10 months

Text

anyone but you : b.b

you were Bucky's pocket of sunshine, his sweet girl outside of the avengers. a slice of normality in his less-than lifestyle, but what happens when you're pulled into it in the worst way? (2.6k)

we've got ourselves a good'un today angels, and you have @imagine-all-the-fandoms for the brill idea :)

warnings - graphic descriptions of torture and wounds. (but fluffy ending)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop

“Mmh, okay. So, our options- wait stop laughing at me!” Throwing the menus in his direction, Bucky stifles the rest of his laugh by trying to play it off as a cough.

Shaking his head, Bucky picks up the menus that had been promptly thrown at him. "I'm not laughing at you doll." Bucky reasons, moving across the sofa to now kneel in front of the coffee table where you're perching opposite him looking through your phone for alternatives.

"Sure sounds like it to me." You chide, glancing up with a mischievous glint in your eyes, one Bucky can't help but get lost in, completely missing the words sounding from your lips. Clicking your fingers in front of him, Bucky snaps from the depths of his mind.

"What did you say?" Bucky asks, only elated as your grin widens into a playful smile. "Right, dinner!" Bucky slaps his hand down on his thigh before rising to his feet and dramatically clasps one hand over his eyes. "How 'bout we do the random selector, huh?"

Chuckling to yourself, you nod along before rising to your feet. "Let's do it, Barnes."

Covering your eyes as well, the pair of you reach down and clutch a menu in your grasp and open your eyes. "I got Chinese!" You announce, and Bucky grunts in disappointment as he holds up the leaflet loosely.

"I got the shitty pizza place a few blocks away." He groans, watching you cheer victoriously. "You won this time, Y/n." He rushes over to your side of the table, wrapping his arms around your waist before lifting you up, hearing you squeal before dropping the menu. "But I'll win next time, mark my words."

With your arms around his neck, Bucky dips you lowly with a smirk. "That so, Barnes?" You tease, leaning closer to his face. "We'll see." You add, closing the distance between you both with a sweet quick kiss. "Now come on, I'm starving!"

"Thirty minutes til we land, guys." Natasha announces from the front of the jet.

Unable to keep his knee from bouncing once the announcement was made, Bucky cannot stop his thoughts from returning to you. It had been a longer mission than anticipated with little to no contact with the outside world. He's so used to sending a text, a quick call to just hear your voice and know you're okay whether it be doing a mundane task or listening to you moan about a colleague.

That's one of the things Bucky loves about you; the normalcy of it all. You couldn't be more of a polar opposite to the former soldier, with a 9-5, a pension scheme, and health benefits included. Whereas he just gets thrown into the unknown more than he cares to admit and comes out slightly more traumatized with each mission.

Noting the nervous actions of his friend, Steve nudges Bucky's arm. "You got plans with Y/n once we get back?" Steve asks, knowing it'll help pass the remaining time until they land.

Within seconds the tension melts from Bucky's body and even Sam catches the barely there smile on the soldier's face.

"Going to this movie theatre she loves, it's kinda run down but she likes to call it 'old school.'" He quotes, picturing the first time you dragged him along to the theatre. "And well, I've got something planned for her, but I don't know." Bucky trails off, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"Well, sounds great to me, Buck." Steve comments, moving slightly closer, and lowers his head in an attempt to keep the overs from interrupting. "So, you ever gonna bring her to the compound?"

Bucky sighs deeply and Steve backs up, knowing it's useless to even pry further into it.

"It's just so good, Steve." Bucky starts, glancing around at those around him, some looking through reports and others dozing off. "I don't want her to get enveloped in this side of our life." He explains and Steve simply nods. "I love what we have, and, and I don't wanna risk ruining that."

"Understood." Steve pats Bucky's arm. "She really brings out the best in you, you know?"

"Yeah, he's been notably less grumpy since they got together." Sam comments from the other side of the jet, receiving a brief glare from Bucky. "Less grumpy, Barnes. You're no ray of sunshine yet."

The rest of the flight sped by whilst Bucky remained deep in his thoughts which mostly circled around you. He was jolted from his memories once the jet landed and they all began to disembark.

As the team began to walk through the compound, Bucky quickly got his phone out to send you a message. But before he could even start to type one, a series of urgent texts flash up on his screen.

"Bucky?" Steve calls out to his friend who is almost frozen in place, staring down at his phone with panic written across his expression. "Buck?" Walking toward his friend, he looks down at Bucky's phone and feels his heart drop at what he's reading.

With a shaky hand, Bucky forces his head up to meet Steve's eyes. "Steve, I," He can barely form the right words, unsure what to even say. "This, this can't happen." His mind shifts to denial, but upon hearing his name being called urgently up ahead by Tony and Bruce he can feel his whole world crashing down on him.

The first sensation that came back was your smell. In hindsight, you wish it wasn't and that you could've remained senseless, but you weren't so lucky.

It smelt like metal, smoke, and sweat. Little did you know, that was all coming from you.

Your eyesight followed suit and quickly alerted your captures with delight that you were conscious at last. "Help!" You cry out, now noticing your arms shackled to a wall in a dank-looking cell. "Please, help me!" Within seconds the screams tear at your throat, scratching it raw as laughter enters your ears.

Through the shadows, a large figure emerges holding up an old school camcorder whilst he grimaces at you, eyes roaming over the wounds inflicted. "Bout time you woke up darling." The man snarls, moving closer into your enclosed space. "Wanna say hi to your friends?" Forcing the camera to your face, you're quick to turn your head away, only to feel a sweaty hand clench your jaw and force you to look directly into the lens as tears glisten in your eyes. "You know what to do if you want her back." The man comments, further confusing you about the situation before he reveals a small knife in his grasp.

"No, please," You plead, shaking your head at the sight of the knife rising before plowing it down into your thigh.

The last thing Bucky sees is your face contorted in pain, the movement of your lips as you scream in anguish. But all of the sounds have become white noise.

"Do we know who sent this?" Steve is the first to ask, noting Bucky standing too still for his own liking.

Raising his hand, Bruce swipes across and reveals three headshots of so-called reformed criminals. "Jason Donahough, Mark Whitehall, and Edward Polaski." Bruce points to each, pausing at the sound of Bucky's metal arm whirring, the plates sliding as he clenches both fists at the images.

"I know them." Bucky states through gritted teeth.

"A message was delivered with the video, we're trying to locate the source with the help of FRIDAY." Tony explains, revealing the two simple sentences.

Come get your girl, Winter Soldier. It's time to resume the game.

A shudder spreads through Bucky at the second sentence. They still remember what he did, and clearly aren't messing around this time.

"I have to go." Bucky tells himself, too in his own head to notice several pairs of eyes fall on him in alarm.

"Bucky, that's," Steve starts, but Bucky is already walking out the door before he can finish his sentence. "We gotta go, who's in?"

Almost every hand shoots up and Steve nods, everyone starts to file out, knowing what needs to be done.

They came in abruptly, knocking the chains on your ankles to alert you of their presence. Mostly they just wanted to taunt you, sometimes they'd spare you the pain of reminding you that you were alone and no one would come for you. But more often than not, they'd add to your growing list of injuries, conflicting another wound to your skin as more blood stains the tiles.

No one answers the questions you ask when conscious enough to form words. 'Where am I?' 'How long have I been here?' and the one that scares you most of all, 'Why me?'

"You think he'll come?" Your ears perk up at the question, and you force your heavy head up an inch to see two of your attackers conversing outside of your cell.

One of them is holding a phone tightly in his grasp, chewing on his lip at the question. "For her? Hopefully." He scoffs before looking back at you, noticing the corners of your lips rising weakly. "What're you smiling at, bitch?" His voice rises before he marches over to you, grabs a hold of your face with one hand, and stares you dead in the eyes. "Somethin' you wanna say?" He demands, eyes widening awaiting a response.

Instead, you spit in his face, watching him recoil in disgust.

"You'll pay for that," He states, reaching into his pocket for something whilst your eyes grow heavy once again, unaware of a red light flickering through the base and alarms blaring.

The two men exchange a look, one you're oblivious to when your head slumps back down to rest against your chest.

"Showtime." One of the men laughs, clapping his hands before they both exit the cell, leaving your weak body alone-something you can be silently thankful for.

"Bucky," His name passes from your lips before your eyes drop once more.

Leading the mission, Bucky refuses to trail from the plan. Sometimes, he'll swerve from the set motions, but when it comes to you, nothing is to be changed or come as a surprise.

Continuing through the dank corridors, Bucky keeps his gun aimed in front of him whilst Steve and Natasha follow behind. So far Bucky has not left a single guard standing, and some without breath.

"You think this is it?" Natasha questions, looking at a series of locked doors, each with a number printed above and the red light flashing.

Bucky remains silent, trying to zone out from the murmurs behind him. His eyes continuously scan over the doors, he homes in on the furthest down the corridor, noting the light flashing white instead of red.

"There." Bucky speaks up, picking up pace toward the door only to be surprised by three guards who start shooting.

Wasting no time, Bucky tears the three down with ease. He ignores their screams whilst he shoots and punches his way through them.

Breathing deeply, Bucky leans forward to see a series of buttons to unlock the door. "Got any idea-" Steve starts, only to be met with Bucky smashing his metal fist into the panel, causing the door to open.

Adjusting their eyes to the dimly lit room, the trio enter apprehensively.

Scanning the room, Bucky's breath catches in his throat at the frail figure in the corner of the room. "Y/n?" His voice croaks, wasting no time to rush to your side, delicately lifting your head up to his lap. Eyeing over your various injuries, Bucky shakes his head and nestles your cheek with his hand. "What've they done to you?"

"Buck, we've got to get her out, now." Steve places his hand on his friend's shoulder, watching his oldest friend help you up and break the chains keeping you cemented in place. "Nat's clearing our exit, we don't have long."

Upon picking you up, Bucky freezes at your loud cry. "I'm sorry, doll, I'm so sorry." He repeatedly mumbles into your neck as he cradles your body in his arms all too aware of you dipping in and out of consciousness.

Much to their surprise, their exit is easier than anticipated. With you lying limp in Bucky's arms breathing heartlessly, Nat starts the jet up.

"It was all just to prove a point." Bucky states quietly, an oxygen mask now covering your nose and mouth. "just to show they could still get back at me, after all this time." His fists begin to clench on the edge of the seat, something Steve quickly picks up on as he moves to sit beside the pair of you.

Looking down at you in daylight, Steve could feel his heart clench in his chest. From what he saw of you briefly in photographs, you were shell of the woman you were physically, let alone mentally when you eventually come to.

"She's safe now, Buck." Steve reminds Bucky, feeling a sense of hope wash over the jet at your eyes open.

"Buck?" You croak, trying to lift your hand up, only for it to be held tightly by Buckys. "You, you found me." Tears start to build in your eyes upon seeing his, only for them to quickly refill with black spots.

"Of course, I'll always find you." Bucky whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead as a tear glides across your skin.

two months later

"Okay, okay!" Bucky chuckles heartfully, clutching the menu in his grasp above his head whilst you pout up at him. "Just say sorry and it's yours, doll."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you lightly sigh. "Come on, that's not fair. Steve will agree with me on this, right, Steve?" Glancing over your shoulder, Steve doesn't move a muscle from the armchair situated in the compound living area. "Steve?" Waving your hand, you reach for a cushion to throw at him, only for it to be deflected at the last second.

"I think you've got a slight advantage here, Buck." Steve chimes in, much to Bucky's playful dismay.

Lowering his arms back down, Bucky kneels in front of you with the menu in hand. "Here you go, doll." He winks, watching you snatch it from his grasp before wheeling backward toward the coffee table.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Barnes." You salute, reaching across for your crutch to ease you out of the wheelchair.

Upon hearing a quiet wince, Bucky's gaze falls upon you, and starts to walk in your direction to assist. "She's got this." Natasha pipes up, now entering the room to see what all the commotion was.

"Thanks, Nat." You smile, now using the crutch you reach for your phone, revealing the scarring on your forearm which sometimes hurts to see.

With a quick tug, you pull on the sleeve of Bucky's henley you've stolen before dialing for the takeaway and leaving the room.

Now left alone with two old friends, Bucky can practically hear their questions protruding. "She's just taking things a day at a time." Bucky explains, burying his head in his hands at the memories of the past few months.

"I mean, I haven't heard her laugh like this since before," He trails off, not wishing to finish the sentence as images of blood, your screams, and pleads replay.

"It's alright," Natasha comments with a soft smile. "She's tougher than she looks, for a civilian that is." She adds.

"Who're you callin' a civilian?" You speak up, feigning shock at Natasha's remark. "I happen to be a very special person." You add, slowly making your way toward Bucky.

Smiling at the interaction, Steve dares to ask. "And what makes you special, huh, Y/n?" He plays along, thankful to see Bucky's smile growing as you reach him, wrapping your free arm around his middle.

"'Cause this guy gets to date me." You state with a smug grin, feeling Bucky kiss your temple with a smile on his lips. "Nothing more special than that, right?" Looking up at Bucky, his smile only widens as the sparkle in your eye flashes for a moment, slowly making its return.

"Yeah, doll." Bucky tells you. "Luckiest guy around."

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jen-with-a-pen · 10 months

Text

F O X ＨＵＮＴ

summary: Not only has HYDRA executed their infiltration on S.H.I.E.L.D., but they have also reclaimed their finest weapon. Your safety isn't the only thing that's compromised.

pairings: WS!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x F!Avenger!Reader

word count: 6.1k

warnings: chasing, being hunted down, implied n0n-con elements, canon-level violence, cursing, implied t0rture, blood, beat1ngs, forced nud1ty, language, HYDRA-level cruelty, Bucky gets Brainwashed (again), there's Steve x Reader if you squint REALLY REALLY hard

read here on ao3!

a/n: This was inspired by last year's Whumptober Day 2: NOWHERE TO RUN - CORNERED, CAGED AND CONFRONTATION. I know it's February JUNE, but shit came up and my motivation tanked lmao thanks adhd med trials Literally have never done a dark(er?) fic before and this one has been cooking for god knows how fucking long now. I hope y'all like it <3 (also the hydra victory au is something i discovered from the lovely @lunarbuck reset series and stewed obsessively over for literal months now. still obsessed with it whoops)

dividers by @firefly-graphics | gif by @lost-shoe | @hydravictrix

my ao3 | my masterlist

Translations

Lisitsa | лисица - fox/little fox

Soldat | солдат - soldier

Syuda | сюда - over here

Khitraya suka | хитрая сука - sly bitch

Moy priz | мой приз - my prize

Glupaya pizda | глупая пизда - stupid cunt

Moye | мое - mine

The infiltration was subtle at the start.

A few missions gone mysteriously wrong, agents killed in action or disappearing entirely, hacks that were, thankfully, contained within an inch of a full-blown data breach. All of it seemed so coincidental when it happened, swept under the rug each and every single time before Director Fury could have a swear-filled say as to what the hell was going on.

But hindsight is 20/20. It always is.

The day S.H.I.E.L.D. fell was, ironically, the perfect day: brilliant sunshine, clear blue skies, a breeze weaving between the towering buildings and skyscrapers. It was almost eerie, in a way, how perfect of a day it was.

You found yourself in the gym, Steve and Sam hashing it out on whose turn it was in sparring. You had all but knocked Sam out cold in the previous round as Steve watched from behind the ropes, cheering you on with a cocky, proud grin as he watched all of his hard work in your training pay off.

Of course, the stubborn ass he was, Sam wanted another go.

“C’mon, Steve! I wanna rematch!” Sam protested, gesturing wildly in your direction with one hand while his other held an ice pack to his bruised temple. Steve stifled a laugh, tossing a glance over his shoulder to you. You shook your head, smiling back as you gulped down the rest of your water bottle. Cool strands spilled out from the corners of your lips and down your chest. You welcomed the relief from the sweat gluing your t-shirt to your skin.

“How ‘bout I take Steve instead of giving you another concussion?” you retorted, giggling as Sam shot a narrow look at you. He huffed, forfeiting his argument by waving a dismissive hand.

“Fine, ’m gonna go find some pain meds,” he grumbled, turning to point a swollen finger at Steve. “I better see you in the infirmary next, Cap.”

He stomped off through the metal doors and left the two of you in silence.

“Whaddya say, sweetheart? You up for round two?” Steve teased, stepping under the ropes and into the ring. He wrapped his hands as he moved to the center, muscle memory carrying him while keeping his eager gaze on you. His eyes carried excitement as they journeyed up and down your figure, rolling his lip between his teeth as he drank you with his stare.

You did little to hide your pride at the Captain checking you out, chewing the corner of your cheek to tame your own smirk at the beautiful blond. You turned away, hiding the heat from your cheeks as you tossed your bottle at your bag. You weaved under the ropes, coming face to face with your willing opponent in the center. You lifted your chin to meet his, the hidden smirk on your lips growing into a grin.

“With you? Always, old man,” you purred. You tossed him a teasing wink as you positioned your fists in front of you, feet planted firmly in the starting stance. Steve lingered on you for a second longer, tongue swiping across his lips hungrily as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, raising his hands to mirror you.

The two of you began to circle one another, dancing in a familiar pattern you knew by heart. Steve took his first swipe at you and you ducked, managing a hit to his stomach. A grunt escaped from him– not of hurt but of thrill. He lunged for you as you dodged again, blocking his failed strike to your head.

“Wow! You really can’t teach an old dog new tricks!” you taunted, dodging another blow, his wrapped fist only grazing your shoulder. You rolled it back, holding back a slight wince as you continued the violent waltz.

You lunged at him, instead faltering and falling to the ground. Readying the curse on your tongue, it stopped short of your lips as you looked up at Steve.

He stood frozen in place, panting, fists at his sides clenching tighter and tighter. As you opened your mouth to unload even more cursing questions, screeching erupted from the loudspeakers around the room. High-pitched tones screaming above, a robotic voice speaking clinically and quickly. You scrambled off the floor, unease creeping in as you latched onto Steve’s arm, his arm tensing under your touch.

CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS URGENTLY NEEDED. 40th FLOOR. THREAT IS ACTIVE AND HIGHLY DANGEROUS. REPEAT. CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS–

The message had cut out, static replacing it alongside the echoing alarms throughout the hallways outside the gym. You looked up at Steve. Anxiety surged upon finding his face devoid of all blood, his jaw slack, eyes boring into the metal doors leading to the hallway. He looked scared.

You’d never seen Steve scared before.

“Steve, what the fuck was that–”

“Get to the locker rooms and hide,” he ordered. He pulled his arm from you, jumping over the ropes and sprinting to his duffel bag on the floor. He pulled out his phone and dialed frantically as he ran to the doors.

“Steve!” You stood trembling in the ring as your stomach churned.

“Now!” he yelled. “I’ll come back for you!”

He didn’t wait to hear your response as he slammed the gym doors shut, followed by a whir and click.

He locked you in.

You didn’t– couldn’t– hesitate as a surge of urgency overtook you. You needed to hide. Now. Fast.

Your legs carried you as you jumped out of the ring and raced to grab your duffel bag, sprinting to the back of the gym through another set of double doors. You wove through the tiled maze of the locker room searching for some sort of hiding spot, settling on the showers. You snuck over to the stall at the very end, the closest one to the emergency exit, and ducked under the opaque plastic curtain. Your bag fell to the floor as you climbed onto the stall seat. Blood pumped in your ears, thumping as quickly as your shaky, shallow breathing. Millions of thoughts and questions and worries rushed through your mind at impossible speeds.

White and Silver. Which alert was that for?

You racked through fleeting memories, distant recollections of training and orientation from months ago, searching for anything remotely familiar. You remembered all of the other codes– red, orange, teal– but no white, no silver.

A faint buzzing sounded from inside your duffel. You lunged, unzipping it and fishing out your phone. Natasha. Her name lit up the screen and you frantically hit the answer key before the call could even think about dropping.

“Where the fuck are you?” Her panicked voice hissed into your ear. Her edged tone was enough to make your stomach backflip faster.

“Locker rooms, forty-fifth floor. What the fuck is going on, Nat?” Your voice shook as anger and confusion boiled in your blood.

A muffled swear. “Where’s Steve?”

“He ran out, locked me in, told me to hide.” More incoherent curses.

“Fuck, fuck, okay, look, trust me on this, you need to stay where you are, okay? I can get you out, I–”

High-pitched ringing overtook the speaker, sending you reeling away from the receiver. Static echoed out of the speakers.

“You what? Natasha!”

“No– time– you–”

“Natasha! Hello?”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You tore the phone away from your ear and choked back the bile rising in your throat. Service was out. The blinking bars at the top of the screen mocked you and your sudden plunge into isolation.

The lights went next.

The dull fluorescents flickered. Someone cut the electricity, sending you into almost darkness as the backup generator lights kicked on. Scattered lights from above cast an eerie yellow glow over the shower tiles. You’d only seen this kind of outage happen once before, when New York was hit with Hurricane Noah a few years back.

The fear you felt in that storm paled in comparison to what you felt now.

You sighed, shaky and surrendering, and pulled your body closer to you on the shower bench. A chill snaked its way down your spine as your skin brushed the cool ceramic, an unwelcome addition to the cold already enveloping you. Your sweat-soaked t-shirt and shorts failed to aid you and your aching muscles. Fingernails dug into your kneecaps in a struggle to stop trembling as you tried to focus on your breathing. Inhaling, exhaling, in, out. Screwing your eyes shut, praying to any deity imaginable it was all just a drill, it was all an accident or a misunderstanding or–

The ground shook as a loud bang echoed from outside the locker room. A panicked yelp escaped your throat before your hands could scramble and cover your mouth. You froze as the tremors subsided and listened. It, or they, sounded close.

Too close.

Another BANG! Then another.

Rhythmic, steady blows, each quicker and more powerful than the last. Hands clamped tighter over your lips until your blood froze at the sounds of crushing steel and crumbling concrete. The lump in your throat grew as horrific realization flooded over you.

They, or it, broke in.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it– those doors were more fortified than Tony’s lab. Four-inch-thick, steel and plexiglass doors with a three-tier secured locking system. Nothing, nobody– not even the strongest Super Soldier– was powerful enough to make the faintest of dents in them.

Racing through who, or what, could have possibly broken into the gym, your train of thought derailed as echoes of men yelling indecipherable words and mixed commands shattered the remaining air of safety you clung to. Listening intently, a mix of combat boots and tactical gear filtered in with the echoed commands.

The S.T.R.I.K.E. Team.

Your legs begged for reprieve from crouching, but your body disobeyed and froze you in place. Part of you didn’t trust who was outside. Footsteps and gruff voices became heavier, closer. The relief that greeted you was replaced again by panic as you listened closer.

Clear, Russian commands resonated at the entrance to the locker rooms. They were coming in.

Your breath hitched, blood running cold as footsteps closed in. It was one person, but their steps didn’t sound like the heavy boots before them. They sounded more like…

Sneakers?

The rubber from the intruder’s shoes squeaked on the tiled floors. Ragged breathing echoed off the walls. A low growl, accompanied by quiet whirring. Someone big, someone mean.

Your heart made its way to your throat as the intruder inched closer. Slow, methodical, as if trained in search and rescue.

It didn’t feel like a rescue.

The lump almost turned into a scream as an echoed BANG carried from the bathroom stalls around the corner. Silence followed, then a growl, then another BANG. The cycle repeated for the remaining stalls, the intruder slowly creeping along. Growls became deeper upon each disappointment.

Hostages. They were looking for hostages.

Soles squeaked as the intruder changed course, stomping around the corner to search the line of shower stalls. You hiccuped a sob, realizing tears started to trail down your cheeks. Biting your palm only proved a lame attempt to calm your racing heart, a scream threatening to leave your throat as they began tearing the plastic curtains off the stalls. Each clang of metal cracking onto the tile became closer as you ground your teeth into the meat of your hand. Eyes screwed shut, silent prayers raced in your head, pleading to wake up; to wake up from this hellscape of a sick, twisted nightmare.

The intruder’s steps stopped.

Your eyes opened, widening at the blurred, hulking shadow standing outside of your stall. They had to be well over six feet. Towering, bulky, monstrous.

Slowly, the shadow’s hand reached for the curtain. One by one, its fingers closed around the plastic’s edge, preparing to rip it down and rip you open. Eyes burning, hot tears felt like molten metal as you attempted to make yourself as small as possible in your corner, huddling your knees as close as they could be. This was it. This was the end. You prayed– actually fucking prayed– hoping they couldn’t hear your pathetic whimpering, hoping they would make this quick, painless; break your neck or put a gun to your head and get it over with. Leave your body for someone else to find.

“Soldat, syuda!”

The command made your heart stop.

The shadow froze, stopped by a call from the entrance to the locker room. Skin met your teeth as you bit harder into your hand. Lungs began panicking as you started hyperventilating, bile reaching your throat and burning the back of your tongue.

The shadow, the monster, growled in protest. It retracted the curled hand from the curtain, wordlessly moving back towards the bathroom stalls. Footsteps faded as muffled conversation floated away from the locker room.

You needed to get the fuck out of there.

You slid off the bench, legs aching and knees popping as you crouched silently over to the curtain, peeking out behind the plastic. It crinkled quietly and you bit your lip, leaning out ever so slightly over the threshold.

Tiptoeing around the corner, you faced the emergency exit. The glowing sign omitted a creepy, green glow that added to the eeriness brought by the generator lights.

This was it.

You slammed the push bar down, throwing the door open with your body and spilling out into the hallway. Sunlight flashed through the infinite glass hallway, blinding you. In your frozen state, you hear commotion from behind the door as it slammed shut. Banging from the other side, the sound of metal on metal, made your teeth grind. Indents from punches dented the door, deforming its smooth outside. You didn’t stay frozen for long as your body screamed at you to fucking move, now.

Your legs obeyed immediately, carrying you through the corridor to the closest means of escape you could find. As you rounded the corner, the crushing sounds of the door breaking off of its hinges hit your ears. You didn’t dare to look back, sprinting through the twists and turns of the infinite hallway. You followed what felt familiar, burning muscles egged on by the sound of pounding footsteps getting closer and closer.

Finally, you stumbled onto the entrance to a stairwell, pausing to gasp for air your lungs demanded. The burn in your legs and chest only aided in the physiological need to hyperventilate. Sweat dripped from your temple and your head pounded as hard as your feet hitting the ground.

You leaned into the safety bar, inches away from further distancing yourself from whatever, whoever, was on your trail, when a yell erupted from the end of the hallway.

It felt like slow-motion; one of those scenes in those cheesy horror movies Sam always made you and Steve watch on weekends off. The ones with cheap FX, bad sound, but somehow great editing for the budget. The scenes where realization hits the main character and suddenly everything is half the speed while they still move in real time.

You turned your head towards the source. Then, it hit you. Blood drained from your face as the horror of realization hit you, like a speeding sixteen-wheeler head on.

Bucky Barnes stood hulking at the end of the hallway. Generator lights and setting sun illuminated his snarling teeth, gleaming from parted lips that had him panting like a rabid dog. If you hadn’t known better it would’ve looked like he was heading for the gym for his daily workout. Blown pupils, sweat-stuck hair, complimented by a shaking frame– most definitely caused by adrenaline, dopamine, and a slew of Gods-knew-what other drugs he had pumped into his system. Splotches of drying, smeared blood coated his neck and shirt while even more dripped onto the ground from his fists. The crimson contrasted with the medically white floors.

Bile rose in your throat again. The acidic taste made you dry heave at the sight of the blood, knowing from the looks of Bucky it definitely wasn’t his.

He snarled as your eyes finally met. Fists of flesh and metal flexed. Rippling muscles shook as he readied to launch forward.

“You’re mine, lisitsa!” he barked. His voice booming louder than the speed of sound, it made your ears ring.

Your throat finally opened. You screamed as he sprinted towards you, making more ground down the hallway than an apex predator out of hibernation. You shoved the exit door open, heaving your legs forward as you ascended the stairs. No choice but to go up, you refused to look back– nay you didn’t dare to even consider it. Muscles and tendons and joints burned, yearning for you to stop, but the door slamming from flights below you only pushed you harder, flying up and passing floor after floor.

You were fast, but he was faster.

Dizziness overtook you as your vision began to blur. Darkened edges of your peripherals made you stop your climb at level 50, pausing for a split second to hear Bucky’s progress. He was close behind, but you still had more of an advantage. You knew the Tower better than him. You knew level 50 had another stairwell on the opposite side of the floor, through another hallway off the corner of your current one. Sneakers pounded too close for comfort as you shoved the door open and made a break for it down another corridor labyrinth.

If you made it out of this alive, you swore you’d kill Tony’s architect yourself.

“You can’t hide forever, lisitsa!” Bucky’s voice rang out from the stairwell as you rounded the corner, sprinting through more identical-looking hallways. Another corner later and the glowing red EXIT sign appeared above the next stairwell. A beacon of hope, almost. Relieved, you head straight for it, body and mind and soul pushing against the burning and the gasping for air. You were right there, hand outstretched, fingertips grasping the metal bar–

It felt like a car crash.

Not an accident or fender bender. No, it felt like seventy miles an hour meets a tree with no intent of moving. That split-second feeling where your stomach drops and you can all but brace for the deadly impact destined for you to meet.

Time stopped as you were yanked backwards. Cold, slick metal wrapped around your ankle, bloody hand print smearing some poor bastard’s DNA all over your calf as your body fell to the ground. Hard. Your jaw clenched as your chin slammed into the linoleum. Teeth ground into your tongue as copper flooded your tastebuds. Your lungs, with little wind left in them, gasped for oxygen. Another scream rising in your throat became stuck in your vocal cords.

Bucky whipped you around as you struggled to free your lower half. You landed on your shoulder, head bouncing against the floor and teary eyes struggled to stay open and endure the pain. He straddled your form, the weight crashing down on your bones and organs. A sharp inhale impaled your chest as you met Bucky’s darkened eyes, then; the familiar steel blue replaced entirely with dilated, unhinged pupils.

It was the first time you got a good look at his face. His face is speckled with blood spatter and several bruises spread across his cheek down his neck. Two black eyes, a bloody nose– one you hoped was his– and a broken lip. The bloodied collar of his shirt only aided in the mess of his hair. His soft, chocolate strands stuck in mats to his neck and temples with sweat and blood.

Out of sheer habit, because he looked like your Bucky, you couldn’t help but reach a hand out to him. A soft plea for the man behind his eyes, one you begged everything holy was still there. He held your stare, face contorting into unrecognizable emotions. Tears brimmed your eyes as your hand stretched further, sobs escaping as your fingers inched closer and closer to his battered face.

“Bucky, it’s me–”

Your appeal transformed into a shriek, quickly snuffed out as Bucky wrapped his crimson-spattered metal hand around your throat. You choked, sputtering lost pleas as your hands flew to your neck. Fingernails flailed in futile attempts to claw off the weapons-grade titanium.

“You’re done running, khitraya suka,” Bucky’s hot breath fanned your face as he leaned in. His mouth grazed your jaw, titanium hand on your throat flexing with each syllable. He slowly made his way down your neck, pushing harder into your chest with his forearm. A heavy growl. His grip only tightened as you tried to knee him in the groin, picking you up by your neck and slamming you down again.

Stars circled your blurred vision, eyes rolling back into your head. The corridor, the lights, everything split into two.

“You owe me for my victory, lisitsa,” Bucky’s husky whisper resonated in your ear as he licked the side of your face, his hot, wet mouth against your tear-stained cheek. As his free hand moved to the waistband of your shorts, another surge of panic washed through you. You tried to sputter a weak cry from your closed-off throat, blood turning cold, another scream building and building in your chest and aching for release.

“You owe me what’s mine –!”

BANG!

Something from somewhere all of a sudden. The object slammed into Bucky, throwing him off of you and spilling across the floor.

Finally, your lungs lunged at the chance for air, leaving you a heaving, choking, coughing mess. Spitting at the ground as you made your way shakily to your hands and knees, a freed hand traveling to rub the fresh strangulation bruises forming on the column of your stiff neck.

“Get the fuck off her, Bucky!”

Steve.

As your vision cleared, the shield whizzed past you as it ricocheted back into Steve’s open arms. Bucky groaned, low and guttural, but only for a moment is he subdued. Slowly, he rose, like smoke from extinguished ashes, looking to his metal vice. A large dent adorned the weathered, bloodied appendage where his bicep met his shoulder. He then turned his attention to Steve, baring his teeth, anger coursing through him as he immediately disregarded you. His sights set on a new target, launching himself at Steve without a beat lost.

Steve grunted as Bucky’s metal fist met the vibranium shield with a deafening clang. Steve gritted his teeth and pushed back, managing to break Bucky’s attack and aim a kick for his stomach.

“Go! I got him!” Steve yelled to you through a gasp as Bucky countered with his own swipe at Steve’s middle. Your body stayed put, relishing in the ability to fucking breathe again, also painfully aware how screwed you’d be if you didn’t escape as you had the chance. You willed yourself to move, to run and to keep going, to no avail. As Steve landed a blow to Bucky, his eyes met yours once more. His baby blues, pained and tired, begged for you to listen to him for once in your life.

“Now!”

The strain in Steve’s voice seemed to ignite a fire underneath you. Pushing yourself up, you willed your legs to carry you to the exit. Bloody shoe prints tracked your route as you slammed through the doorway. You cursed, knowing they’ll give away which way you’d go, knowing your life matters more than a twenty-dollar pair of sneakers. Kicking them off, throwing the pair down the exit, praying they made it far enough Bucky wouldn’t know any better.

You threw yourself up the stars, tremors and pain afflicting every limb as the cold concrete seeped in through your socks in each step. The railing helped as you heaved yourself forward with help from the railing. Sweaty palms slipped on the bars, but your grip only grew tighter.

You didn’t know how you, or your body, was able to do it, making it up seven more flights of stairs before your knees buckled on level 57. Heaving the door open and slamming it shut, you stumbled out into the new hallway. You hadn’t visited that level before. Something Steve and the others– especially Doctor Banner– said was “just a business floor.”

The sign on the wall directing to ‘SAFELAB’ said otherwise. Nothing in the Tower was “just business.”

What you did know was that every SAFELAB on every floor was located in the same, far-east hallway.

Wiping the sweat from your temple, you turned right, jogging down the darkened, emptied-out hallway. It felt like the apocalypse. No sign of anybody else. Doors left ajar, papers and bags and other employee memorabilia scattered throughout abandoned offices and cubicles. You hoped everyone was able to make it out, at least.

Part of you didn’t hope for much, though.

The door to the lab came into view as you rounded the last corner. The door was still locked, the lab inside sterile and untouched. A sigh of relief escaped you. Holding your palm to the door’s scanner, it answered your prayers in a soft beep and whir, miraculously allowing you in.

You maneuvered through the multiple security doors, four in total, crouching low once you managed to slip into the lab itself. The gigantic window at the front of the labspace spared no room for you to hide easily, but you had zero room to complain about it. It was your only option, after all.

Well, besides the roof.

Crouched, you snuck your way around the counters and various equipment to one of the supply closets. The furthest corner from the entrance. You scoured through drawers and cupboards for some sort of weaponry; the most you could find was a new scalpel out of a box of extras.

You closed in on the supply closet, reaching up and grasping the handle, turning it slowly to prevent any squeaks from the inner hinge. A tear glided down your cheek in relief. You hadn’t realized you started crying. Again.

The door swung open. It greeted you mostly empty, deep enough for you to cram your body into. Crawling inside, bones and limbs contorted into the most comfortable position you could manage. You pinched the edges of the doors to close them as best as you can, accepting they, in fact, couldn’t close all the way from the inside. A curse under your breath, the sliver of dim light through the crack cast onto your face. Once settled, you crumpled your damp t-shirt up from the collar and shoved the fabric into your mouth. Teeth and tongue greeted sweaty cotton and hints of copper as you bit down on the collar, covering your mouth with a free hand.

At last, after Gods knew how long it had been since you ceased moving, a silenced sob heaved out of your chest. Tremors only worsened as your nervous system rode out the fumes of its adrenaline high and flight mode instincts. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks, mixing with snot further down your face, slipping down to your neck and leaving behind streaked paths in the bloodied, hand-printed bruises adorned on your flesh. The pain from the near-strangulation you suffered broke through the shock and endorphins that were keeping you sane until then. You knew, though, you couldn’t break down. Not yet. Not until you saw Natasha or Steve or someone you trusted face-to-face.

You started counting your breaths. Mind racing, thoughts traveling near sonic speeds through your mind carrying questions at how the hell it all happened.

You thought for sure S.H.I.E.L.D. was secure, especially after the ordeal with Bucky, Steve, and the whole ‘defeating HYDRA’ ordeal from a few years back. Hell, you thought it was safer than taking the FBI’s recon mission that was offered to you before being referred to Tony himself. Your mind raced, what-ifs and endless possibilities flashing across your eyes like a snuff film. You hoped Steve was okay. You hoped Natasha was on her way to your location any second. You hoped Sam was safe and made it out okay. You hoped Bucky –

Bucky.

Christ, you hadn’t even stopped to think about how the hell everything happened to him. He’d been doing so well in his recovery program. Steve was even telling you about it that same morning, bragging about how well Bucky was doing, how much progress he was making, how soon they’d finally be able to move in together once Doctor Banner cleared him. Another sob overtook you. How you’d never seen him like that before, the feeling of his titanium arm slowly crushing your windpipe, the weight of his entire body crushing your internal organs as he’d held you down. The things he’d said. You tried to wrap your head around what he’d said, what he was going to do–

Crashing followed by shattering glass emitted a muffled yelp from you as your blood ran cold. Another wave of tears flooded out of your burning eyes, chest heaving unevenly. Your hand clamped even tighter over your mouth as teeth bit into the salty fabric of your shirt, drying up any more moisture your mouth was grateful to finally have.

BANG! Then another. Then more in rapid succession. Shattering, crashing, shattering, silence. The final blow to the security doors sounded from inside the lab itself. Your breath hitched and bile began bubbling in your stomach, reaching the back of your throat and across your tongue. You forced yourself to swallow the acid, listening intently to the crunch of sneakers on shattered glass.

He’d found you.

“Lisitsaaa,” Bucky drawled, his voice dropped to a primally low octave. Lower than before. You almost couldn’t make out the words, a mixture of growled mumblings of English and Russian. Knees folded closer to your chest, you tightened your grip on the handle of the scalpel. Bucky’s footsteps were slow, methodical, predatorial.

His heavy steps inched closer, each followed by a pause, then sudden crashing of lab equipment and smashing of drawers. More glass and metal slammed to the ground and walls after each pause. He sounded feet away. Then inches.

Your breathing stopped as the sliver of light clouded over. The lump in your throat threatened more puke to rise as you dared to peer up through the crack, heart dropping like a dead weight to your stomach as your eyes fell on freshly bloodied sneakers. A stifled scream in your lungs choked you. You refused to think about whose blood that was.

Eyes darted back up. You could see Bucky’s blurred features clouded in shadows. The only light visible, then, was the glint from his wicked smile. Bloodied teeth shone as he licked his lips hungrily, a predator finally cornering its prey.

Ever so slowly he crouched, shoving his face closer into the seam in the door. Tears and snot continued to stream down your face, your body hyperventilating as you forced yourself to look into his eyes. There was nothing else you could do. Nothing else to say, to cry about. There was nowhere left to run. He got you.

“There you are, moy priz,” Bucky hissed before reaching through and throwing the doors open, heavy hands leaving imprints in the flimsy metal. Frozen, your fist was still closed around the scalpel, your muscles tensed as joints locked in place. His evil eyes scanned your body greedily, looking for which cut of meat to divulge in first. His gaze stopped at your fist and he chuckled, tisking in a disappointed tone.

“Oh, glupaya pizda,” Bucky shook his head, amused at your meager choice of weaponry. Compared to him, you might as well have been waving a white flag. His smile only grew, tongue jutting out to lick his lips. Specks of blood coated the sides of his cheeks and edges of his mouth, smeared about from ear to ear with the back of his hand.

“Come with me and they might consider your life, lisitsa–”

You sprung into him, swinging your arm, landing the scalpel into the middle of his flesh hand, impaling straight through it. In an instant, blood spewed from the impact. Bucky screamed out in pain, a slew of mixed language curses reverberating in your skull. You scrambled out of your hiding place, bashing him with a balled fist to the face as you tumbled out and onto your feet, sprinting to the lab’s only exit. Freedom was only an arm’s length away when an overturned stool tripped you. The impact didn’t hurt near as much as the millions of shattered glass bits shredded cut into your skin, your hands and knees and arms and face littered as blood smeared under you and across the once-sterile white floors. You cried out, writhing around. Battered and bloodied, struggling to rise and run again despite the searing pain in your ankle.

Before you could form your next thought, a rough hand snatched your scalp and dragged you up by your hair. You uttered a panicked scream as Bucky hoisted you to eye level, snarling like a rabid dog as he shook you hard.

“I thought you were smarter than that, lisitsa,” he sneered, “but I was wrong.”

He hurled you back onto the floor, his bloodied, titanium fist still gripping your hair, dragging you over to one of the disheveled lab tables. More glass shredded your skin, blood and sweat and tears mixing and pouring over your face and hands and body. With ease and a free hand, he swiped the rest of the contents off another counter; beakers and burners crashed to the floor. His grip tightened as he threw you up onto the stainless steel counter, the dead weight of your body banging onto the table, landing you hard on your back. Eardrums rang into your skull and jaw, radiating down your spine and out your limbs. Your hands slip against the smooth metal from the blood, futile attempts to grab onto something, anything. You groaned and huffed excess sobs. The pain, unbearable; the fear, unimaginable.

Bucky hoisted himself onto the table, landing on top of your broken body, his knee hitting your spine and knocking your last breath out of you. Straddling you, his thick thighs bulged through tattered sweatpants, squeezing into your rib cage. He looped another fist into your hair, raising your head and slamming it down. The side of your face smushed into the steel table, smearing around more blood as he did it again. And again. The cartilage in your nose cracked and throbbing pain radiated into your eyes, your skull. Warmth from the break and the blood poured over your face. The pain, dulling into numbness as you began to fade in and out of consciousness.

Your vision started to blur and blacken, stars and specks orbiting around Bucky like a halo of hallucination. Your body, finally surrendering to him. No fight left. Any strength you could have mustered, funneled into staying awake, proved useless.

A new sound, then: ripping.

You didn’t have to look to witness Bucky unrelentingly tear your t-shirt away from your body, training his eyes on your open form. Bruised skin exposed to cool air, your chest still momentarily held together by your sports bra. He made quick work of it next, the nylon snapping off in one swipe, sending goosebumps racing down your spine.

Ice-cold titanium fingers untangled from your matted hair and made their way from your nape, to the small of your back, to the waistband of your gym shorts. Muscles tensed as you felt each digit wrap almost leisurely onto the elastic. He tore them away swiftly, baring the rest of you and your skin to him. A growl, one of pleasure, vibrated into you from him, emitted he palmed the skin of your ass. His fingers journeyed languidly in a slow trail from your back to your core. You squirmed, wasting the last of your strength, a hopeless attempt to get away one last time.

A crack came across your face. Flesh against flesh, he slapped you. A punishment. A command for obedience. Your body fell limp. Breathing raggedly and gagging on blood and spit, you shuddered as he took your wrists and tied them together with your t-shirt.

Satisfied, his prey finally submitting, Bucky paused, panting as he leaned down to you. He wet his lips before speaking, gruff words slurred against your ringing eardrum. As he spoke, cold metal grazed your entrance, a threat of what was to come.

“Now, I get to take what’s mine.”

Your screams echoed as the world fell dark.

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bucky-h0e · 1 year

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Just Ten Minutes | Oneshot

Single Mom!Y/n x Bucky Barnes

Prompt: Bucky had finally explored the world of dating in the new century and found someone who he loves dearly. Now he has to explore the world of fatherhood to support his girlfriend and her baby girl.

Sort of requested by @browneyedgirl22 - I hope you enjoy it!

I admit, it is a bit faced paced but I'm working on that! If anyone has any feedback then please let me know!

If you like this then be sure to check out my current series 'Of Summer Days and Winter Nights' and 'Serendipity'!

Masterlist

Bucky and Y/n had only been dating a short while, a couple of months. Yet in those months, they had moved quickly through their relationship. Of course, they would have preferred to take their time, but it wasn't often that it was on their side. Whilst Bucky had been trying his best to adapt to the new century, finally having the time to do it, there were still occasions in which he was needed. Y/n on the other hand, was juggling not only her new relationship with the ex-Winter Soldier, but also her job and sweet baby.

Amelia had been from a previous relationship, her father having decided to not be in the picture - though he did send some financial aid for her. They were comfortable, and Amelia seemed to love Bucky just as much Y/n loved him. When they were first introduced, of course there was hesitance there. Bucky had never been left to care for Amelia on his own - why would he? But, he always included her whenever he was doing something for Y/n. If he brought flowers, there was always a small bundle of daisies for Amelia, even if she didn't understand why. If he brought cakes or dessert, then there was something sweet for Amelia that she could chew on. Small things that showed Y/n he cared for the small girl and knew they were a package deal. And that didn't worry him. He had spent time with Sam's nephews, gotten used to the childlike fascination with his arm and grew comfortable being around children. But Amelia was a lot younger than Sam's nephews.

He may not be her father, but if she came with Y/n, then how could he say no? There were times where he was nervous, of course. On one occasion, he had offered to take Amelia whilst Y/n nipped to the toilet during shopping. It would only take a few minutes and Bucky knew he could handle that. However, as he stood, holding the little girl who refused to get in the pushchair because 'she was a big girl and could walk on her own' yet 'didn't want to stand because her legs hurt'; he couldn't help but get slightly nervous. What if he dropped her? What if he was squeezing too hard when she wriggled? Luckily, it had just been a quick trip to the bathroom, but just from that small trip, Bucky knew his nerves may just get the better of him.

But, all of that would soon have to wait.

Having received a text from Y/n to cancel their date because she had much more work than she had expected, Bucky couldn't stand the thought of her having to over work herself. He knew she'd get sick by the end of it, burnt out and tired and that she would end up hating it because she couldn't look after Amelia properly. So, to prevent that, he got their lunch and dinner on his way over to her apartment, grabbing some food that was appropriate for the two year old that would inevitably join them. Using the key, he shot her a quick text, letting her know that it would be him walking through the door and not a stranger. He thought he'd see her pottering about, trying to organise whatever chaos her daughter had created in her wake, but instead, he found her slumped over the coffee table in the living room. Nodding along to whatever rant Amelia was talking about, letting her draw on her skin in an attempt at keeping both Amelia entertained and herself awake, pots and pans boiling in the kitchen like she'd forgotten about them and toys strewn about. It was clear that Y/n was currently having a hard time.

Smiling softly, Bucky places the bag of groceries on the floor by the door before making his way through the mess, kneeling once he'd managed to do so . Amelia squeals and hugs him as tight as her little arms can manage and he returns the favour, gently pulling her up into his lap. "Hey there sweet girl. Can you do Buck a favour?" He asks, tilting his head as the little girl nods quickly.

"Yes!" Smiling, he points over to some of the toys, "Can you clear up a little? Just some toys that you're not playing with, then when you've done that, we can play together." She pouts and pulls a face at him, wanting him to know her displeasure about the idea.

"Yeah I know, you don't like tidying up. But, we need a lot of space if we're gunna play right? So, we need to tidy up. I'll even come and help, but I gotta make sure mummy is okay first, yeah?" With a sigh, and as much attitude as a two year old could muster, she starts going about her business tidying up, making Bucky chuckle at the dramatics of it all.

Once Amelia was sorted and cleaning up her toys, haphazardly throwing things inboxes which Bucky knew he'd have to sort out later, he gently pulled Y/n to his chest, wrapping his arms around her exhausted body.

"Is it gone?" She jokes tiredly, peeking an eye open to see her daughter tidying. Bucky chuckles softly, rocking them gently.

"No, just busy. This is your chance to escape." He smiles, planting a kiss on her head as she sighs dreamily, "escaping sounds nice. maybe to Paris?"

"I don't think we have time for Paris," He muses, glancing at the girl who seems to be distracted from her chore. "Definitely have time for a short nap though, come on, up you get." Y/n groans, and Bucky can't help but laugh at the dramatics obviously shared by mother and daughter. With a grunt, Bucky stands, pulling his girl up with him and guides her to the bedroom. An arm wrapped around her waist to secure her as she stumbles through the apartment.

"Buck I have to clean and start making dinner, then I have to do the assignments. Shit, Amelia needs her snack - Bucky I don't have time to nap, I-" She stops at Bucky starting to shush her, pushing her to lay on her bed once he got her seated. "Don't shush me Barnes."

The man sends her an apologetic smile, kissing her temple softly, "I'm sorry love, I won't do it again. But you need to rest or you'll burn out. I will sort out dinner and lunch. You can clean and do work when you wake up," he smiles, there was absolutely no way she was doing either of that today whilst Bucky was here. He leans down, starting to take off her shoes and jeans, letting her get more comfortable to fall asleep, kissing the exposed skin gently before wrapping her up in a blanket. As soon as her head hit the pillow, Y/n could feel herself begin to drift. But there just so much to do, granted she wouldn't be able to do much if she was exhausted. So... maybe a ten minute nap wouldn't hurt.

"Okay Barnes, ten minutes. I will take a ten minute power nap and that is it."

"Ten minutes, got it."

"I'm serious James," He kisses her softly, brushing the stray hair from her eyes as he nods, "Ten minutes. I promise, I love you."

She grumbles her response, turning on her side and sighing loudly into the pillowcase. "I love you too Buck,"

After making sure she was tucked in and on her way to sleep, Bucky stood quietly and made his way out of her room, pulling the door closed on his way. Now to deal with the mess.

As he walked to the kitchen, he took a quick glance to make sure that Amelia was still occupied before turning off the stove, emptying the pots and pans and putting them in the sink to soak. Then, he made his way to the groceries left at the door, bringing them into the kitchen and putting them away. Once that had been done, he made a start on snack for Amelia. Said little girl was currently led on the floor, her tidying taking a backseat as she began to play with some of the toys left out. Seeing a few more toys on the ground, he set the small plate of fruit on the counter, walking over and tidying up the rest into her toybox before picking her up and lifting her high in the air. She squeals and giggles, kicking her legs in excitement as she's lowered to sit on his hip.

"Again! Again!" Bucky grins, "Again?!" he teases, setting her up to be lifted once again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes! Again- Ah!" She bursts into laughter, feeling herself get lifted once, twice, three times more. "Okay sweet girl, snack time." He sets her down at the small plastic table in the corner of the room, where Amelia would normally do her colouring. But it would do for this as well, especially whilst he cleaned up the place. Bringing her plate down, he gently ruffles her hair when she thanks him before digging into her snack. Making his way around the room, Bucky picks up any stray toys, straightens the blankets on the cough - why Y/n had so many he would never know - and picks up any stray washing up that needed to be done. Then, he washed and dried everything whilst Amelia ate her snack, cleaning her plate last when she brought it up and thanked him once again.

Finally, with everything washed and the place looking tidy once again, he set himself down on the couch, laying down and helping Amelia climb up after him. Bringing toys with her, she sat on Bucky's stomach and used his chest as a place to put the toys she'd brought. Occasionally, she would show him once and he would respond with great interest, watching her play with a smile on his face. Honestly, he thought he would be more nervous, like he had been any other time they'd been alone together. But Amelia was a smart little girl who would tell him if she was uncomfortable one way or another. And besides, if Bucky could make Y/n's day slightly better by looking after Amelia for a few hours whilst she rested, then he was happy to do it. It's not like he didn't love spending time with the girl anyway.

The two stayed like that for the next couple of hours, Amelia differing between playing and watching TV. Occasionally, she would take her sticker book and start picking stickers which she would then place on Bucky's arms. Currently, his right arm was covered in unicorns and stars, with his left arm having been decorated in rainbows and flowers. As he watched her, he smiles, loving the way she laughs and giggles whenever he tickled her teasingly or gave her a tight hug or teasingly complained about the stickers.

"I see you've gone with two different themes, that's great, real cute, you know? Oh, mixing it up, flowers with the unicorns huh? That's nice, real artistic." Whilst he knows the two year old may not completely understand him, she seemed to be enjoying herself enough and that was enough for him.

"James Buchanan Barnes."

Bucky looks at Amelia with a exaggerated shocked expression at the sound of his lovers voice, causing the girl to giggle. "Uh oh, mummy's awake." He whispers to her, sitting up and letting the girl fall back onto the couch before walking up to his tired partner. She stands, leaning against the wall with her hip sticking out to one side. Arms crossed in front of her and her face in a scowl.

"Hey love, I was just about to wake you."

"Ten minutes my ass James."

Grinning, he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close to him, kissing her cheek. "Aw come on, you expected me to actually wake you in ten minutes?"

"A promise is a promise Barnes." She states, grabbing a sticker on his flesh arm and ripping it off, causing the man to flinch slightly and let out a whine of 'Hey'. "I swear to god if there are stickers on my couch."

"Mummy!" Kneeling down to catch the girl barrelling her way to the pair, Y/n hugs her tightly and picks her up. "Hey baby girl! Sorry for leaving, did you have fun with Buck?" She asks, smiling as she feels Bucky's arms wrap around her once more and pull the pair closer to him, leaning on the wall beside them.

"Lots and lots! We tidied up for you!" Bucky winks at the shocked Y/n, who seemed to only just take in the apartment after her anger at Bucky's 'betrayal' had passed. "You did?" She asks, looking at Bucky specifically who shrugs his shoulders in return, nodding.

"You didn't have to do that Buck," She smiles at him, gently putting Amelia down, who runs off to play with her toys once whilst Bucky leads Y/n to sit on the couch.

"I know, but I wanted to help you out a little bit. That's what I'm here for. To support you ad Amelia." Y/n smiles at him, not understanding how she had gotten so lucky that Bucky had been okay with the fact that she had a child.

"Thank you Buck, seriously." She leans forward, pressing her lips to his. He smiles into the kiss, bringing his hands to gently cup her cheeks, tilting his head slightly. Pulling apart, he licks his bottom lip quickly, gazing softly into her eyes before kissing her once more. Y/n sighs into the kiss, melting into the couch and pulling Bucky in with her.

"Anything for you, Y/n. Now, you keep your pretty self comfortable on this couch, and I'll go make us all some dinner yeah? You've been asleep for three hours." He muses, placing one last kiss on her lips before standing and making his way to the kitchen to cook for his girls. Y/n watches him, biting her lip softly, grinning at his back before she blinks and glares slightly.

"THREE HOURS!?"

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes #james bucky barnes #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier fic #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #mcu bucky barnes #mcu imagine #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

476 notes · View notes

xxwritemeastoryxx · 3 months

Text

Release

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

Word Count: borderline 4k

Warnings: Briefest mentions of kidnapping/child trafficking (blink and you'll miss it), a lot of memory flashblacks. I think that's about it in this one.

Author’s Note: You know how I said two more parts were left in the last one? Well this one got so long that it had to be broken up into two. Sooo at this point I don't even know how many parts are left. 😅 I just know we're getting close to the end. I believe this is the part that a majority of you have been waiting for! As a reminder, please be sure to follow @xxwritemeastoryxxlibrary and turn on notifications so you never miss a fic!

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

Phantom Masterlist || MCU Masterlist || Taglist

The last thing Phantom remembered was shooting at the former Winter Soldier before something happened. Something had clouded her vision for a brief moment. Then flashes of memories passed her vision.

A four year old girl was being pulled out kicking and screaming as she reached out for her lifeless mother that was on the ground. That same child a moment later was introduced to a new way of life that would turn her into a weapon. The memory flicked over to a teenager holding a gun to her mark while he pleaded for his life before she pulled the trigger. Another flash had that same teenager, a few years older, being forced into a suppressing machine as she fought their hold.

Then blood followed.

Deaths that belong to people she no longer remembered the reason for their deaths. Guns and knives used to kill those targets that brought satisfaction to her handler. Until those handlers had been found during the fall of SHIELD.

Your next mission is to infiltrate the Avengers. And when the time is right, you are to eliminate the former Winter Soldier.

With the next flash, the same woman had a gun pointed to the back of a man's head. Her partner was unaware that he was the target. Complete the mission. The words echoed. Then he turned towards her and smiled at her as if she had just brightened his day while on this mission.

Complete the mission.

The flashes of memories changed to only him. His eyes. The eyes that once were hardened were soft and light. They threatened to swallow her whole with a feeling she couldn't explain. His laugh, the occasional glare he gave her, the look of love and adoration mixed in with other moments. The anchor in the darkness was him.

NO! I won't hurt him.

But you have. The echo was followed by an argument playing in her mind.

“Everything was a lie, wasn’t it? You are pretty good about your job sweetheart, I’ll give you that.”

“I have lied about plenty of things, but my feelings for you weren’t one of them.”

“Don’t feed me that bullshit. Everything I have known about you has been a lie. From the moment I met you I should have listened to my gut. You started this by taking the mission. The least you can do is finish ripping my heart out by telling the damn truth for once.”

Memories of the last time they fought played like a trailer in her mind. It was followed by the two of them in combat, with him pinned down to the ground and a moment later she had a gun shooting at him.

Complete the mission.

That was when her vision had cleared and she took in the sight in front of her. He stood there in front of her. A trail of blood ran down his neck from where her blade had sliced into his neck. And the way blood had seeped into the fabric on his arm from her bullet.

She felt her eyes water as they moved to his face. There was hope in his eyes. Relief was mixed in with hope. She watched as he took that first step towards her before darkness consumed her.

Do you know who this is?

Bucky.

But who are you?

Hours had passed and Bucky hadn't left the chair inside the spare room. While every part of him wanted to be sitting right next to the bed Y/N was in while he waited for her to wake up, he knew better. He knew she would need space once she woke up.

Instead, he watched the steady fall and rise of her chest from across the room. He wondered how hard Wanda had hit her with her powers. From the stories he heard, everyone had a different experience with it. But none of them had been down as long as she currently was.

“It's as though she's shifting through everything she's feared her whole life.”

Wanda had come a few hours prior to check in on her. Of course that had been after the compound had been cleared. After the chaos that Hydra tried to ensue on them. But their plan failed.

The Avengers had managed to take several Hydra soldiers into custody for interrogations. The other's that refused to be taken in, their bodies were being cleaned up and taken away.

Tony instructed FRIDAY to have the compound on lockdown just in case there was a second wave. While the chances were unlikely, it was still better to be prepared this time around. And in the process several agents were dispatched to add security to the remaining two pieces of equipment Hydra needed.

The rest of the team were doing what they needed to. Interrogations, searching databases with FRIDAY for any of the dead Hydra soldiers’ information, and planning the necessary missions that would follow. You name it, it was being done.

The only one that hadn't been doing anything was Bucky. But given the circumstances, no one blamed him. No one even dared to ask him to step away from the room for longer than a minute. If there was any information that needed to be shared with Bucky, they came to him.

Bucky looked over her figure for the millionth time. She was still out as if she was in a peaceful sleep and not being forced to endure her fears. He couldn't even remember the last time she looked this peaceful.

Even when they had shared the same bed, there were moments where he would turn over and see her brows furrowed in her sleep. It was only after he made her leave that he understood why she did. Because even she wasn't immune to the nightmares left behind by Hydra.

The sound of the door opening caught Bucky’s attention. When he looked over, he found Steve entering, a file in his hand.

More information. Bucky thought as Steve closed the door behind him.

“Any changes?” Steve asked as his eyes landed on the sleeping form.

“She turned once.” Bucky shrugged slightly. “There was a moment where I thought she'd wake up, but she turned over as if she was uncomfortable.” A huff of a chuckle passed his lips as he shook his head. “What else did you guys find?” He gestured towards the file.

Steve held it out for him to take. “She had trackers stitched into her tactical belts. Three of them with different origins. We've been able to map out where she's gone since they attached it. ”

Bucky’s eyebrow raised as he opened the file. “Mexico.” He noted once he took in the first origin. “Makes sense given that was where they reprogrammed her.”

The tracker had traced her movements through the Eastern Hemisphere. Each coinciding with each ambush that had reached their radar. There were even movements that hadn't lined up.

When Bucky flipped over to the next tracker and the locations, the origin caused him to look up at Steve for a moment before he looked back down at it. Steve knew it was at his full attention now.

Origin location: Washington D.C

Manufacturer: Stark Industries 2007

“Tony knows about this?” Bucky asked as his eyes moved along the coordinates of movement.

Steve nodded. “He's digging with that information. He knows FRIDAY will be able to locate everything on that tracker. Including who purchased it.”

“Hydra has someone in D.C.” Bucky shook his head before he glanced over at Y/N. He watched her even breath for a moment. “Did FRIDAY ever get facial recognition from the clip?”

“All lower level.” Steve responded. “If her handler was in the footage, he's someone low on the chain of command. If he was here, he's either dead or in one of our interrogation rooms.”

A thought crossed Bucky’s mind before he looked back at the file in his hand. His eyes scanned the dates of when the tracker had first gone online, followed by the first few locations she had been tracked to.

“The day before we came back from our mission, when I saw her postcard, she was in D.C. and the day we got back, she was on a flight out to Germany.” Bucky began as he handed the file back to Steve. “The trackers all have one thing in common though.”

“They bounce back to D.C. after each hit she was a part of.” Steve added.

“Her handler is the reason she goes back to D.C.” He shook his head. “They've practically been under our noses for months.”

“You'd think after the fall of SHIELD, there’d be more reason to keep their guard up in D.C..” Steve shook his head. “Even after all this time, I thought we were close to ending this once and for all.”

“‘Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.’”

Both Bucky and Steve’s head snapped towards the bed. Their eyes landed on Y/N the moment they had. She'd be sitting up in the bed, almost as if she had been lounging for longer than a few minutes.

Bucky had shot out of his seat in relief. His mind only registered she was finally awake after so many hours of being unconscious. But his heart sank the moment she had mirrored his movement and braced herself for any possibility of what could happen.

He felt Steve tense up beside him as he lifted his right hand up slowly. He knew that lifting his left hand might come off as a threat to her in some way. His eyes met hers as he slowly shook his head.

“I didn't mean to-” He sighed softly. “I'm sorry, I was just relieved to see you awake. I didn't think about how that would have come off to you.”

“Why would you be relieved?” She asked, never relaxing her stance. She took in both of the men before her. The blonde, Steve - her mind corrected, was tense. His eyes moved between her and the man beside him. Bucky, her mind screamed at her the same time an ache filled her chest. She took in his eyes and noticed the worry that filled them. “I am a part of the organization that you want destroyed.” She paused for a moment before a thought came over her. “I hurt…you.”

Her eyes moved down to the bandage at his neck before her eyes flicked over to his arm. The edges of medical tape peeking out from his sleeve. Her blade. Her bullet.

Complete the mission.

“I was sent to kill you and you're relieved that I am awake?”

Bucky could hear the confusion in her voice as she spoke. He could see how it didn't make sense to her. He understood why it didn't. To anyone else it would have sounded like madness. But to him it wasn't.

He had hoped that once she had awakened, the memories that had been locked away by Hydra would have been freed. But by her confusion, he now knew it wasn't that simple. Was anything ever that simple?

“Do you know who I am?” Bucky asked. He never moved from his spot. He never lowered his hand in fear she'd take it as a threat towards her.

“You're…” Her brain threw several answers at her all at once. Bucky. The Winter Soldier. James Barnes. Traitor. Avenger. The mission. She shook her head, trying to clear the jumbled mess that was in her mind. “Your name is Bucky.”

Bucky nodded while attempting to keep his lips from forming a slight smile. The relief he felt from just hearing his name pass her lips. He didn't realize how much he missed her just saying it.

“Do you know who you are to me?” He asked a moment later.

More thoughts flooded her brain the moment he asked the question. Memories of her receiving her mission to infiltrate the Avengers played through her mind. The fake name that became her new identity. It was followed by memories of missions, team night outs that soon turned into date nights with Bucky. Running for cover from the rain that started while out on a walk with him. Moments in the early mornings laughing with each other and then the intimate moments.

But the memories were shattered by the darkness that had been intertwined with each memory. The late night meetings with her handler to give status reports on a weekly basis. The memory of her handler giving her the approval to take out the target. Those memories were followed by the last time she and Bucky fought. A memory on a loop of everything she did wrong. Of everything she had done to hurt him.

“I should kill you right now.”

“Do it, you’d be doing both of us a favor. I never intended to fall for you. But you made me care and I couldn’t stop myself. You want to kill me, go ahead. I deserve it for what I’ve done.”

“You should have told me the truth sooner. When you knew you couldn’t go through with it. Or even that night. We sat up for hours, you should have told me. I would have let you go then instead of having to find out this way when you slipped up.”

“I know, and I understand that I should have. But you-”

“Leave.”

“Okay, I’ll give you some space.”

“I meant leave here completely. I don’t want to see you around here anymore. In fact I expect you to be somewhere across the world by morning.”

The ache in her chest grew and she tried to blink back the tears that were wanting to form. She shook her head slightly as she tried not to let the feeling swallow her whole. After a moment, she felt herself gain some control over her mind that she felt she had been losing.

Someone you never wanted to see again.

Before she could voice her response, the door behind the men opened. The sound had caused her to stiffen before taking a step back. Two were barely tolerable and she wasn't sure she could handle another person in the room.

“I've got some bad news, fellas.” Natasha said as she stepped into the room. Her eyes moved from the men over to Y/N. She gave her an apologetic look before looking back at the men.

“What is it?” Steve asked.

“Ross is here.” Natasha hadn't missed the way all three of them tensed up at the name. “Tony tried stalling but…” She trailed off with a shrug.

“She just woke up.” Bucky sighed. “We haven't even had a chance to talk.”

Bucky had hoped Secretary Ross wouldn't show up until a day later. He hoped that by the time Ross had come knocking he'd have gotten a few hours to see where Y/N was at with her mind, not minutes.

“It's either this happens here and now, or he'll have her transported elsewhere to do it.” Natasha noted. “That's what Tony got him to agree to and why he hasn't already had men coming in to drag her out.”

The words had caused an echo of memories to play through Y/N's mind. Soldiers dragged her away at several points in her life. All of the memories had her kicking and screaming, trying to get away. Followed by the several interrogations she had been a part of, on both sides of the coin.

She tortured and just questioned people for information. She used tools and manipulation to get the answers she needed. There was a dark side and a ‘right’ side of the things she had done to get information.

But she'd never been on the other side of interrogations. She'd never been threatened or tortured for information. She'd never been caught in order to be interrogated. And the thought should have comforted her. But wasn't that the reason Secretary Ross had been there?

She had been lost in the memories she hadn't realized Bucky had moved closer to her. She hadn't realized he had been saying her name. The only name he knew. But was it really hers?

Nothing had truly belonged to her. Her life had been owned by someone else for a majority of her life. She had been bought by Hydra and became something they needed. It was worse than what the Red Room had done to her. The Red Room may have taken her away from her family, but Hydra who took everything away from her until she was left with nothing.

She was no one. She was nothing but the asset they had turned her into.

Complete the mission.

She could hear the voices speaking in the room but her brain wasn't registering who was speaking or what they were saying. All her brain could focus on was on the details of the memories that kept coming at full force.

“Come back to me.”

It was followed by distorted voices she couldn't place. It wasn't for her to understand them. But the words she had heard, they acted as a grounding for her. Pulling her back from the memories.

Her mind attempted to grasp onto reality when she felt the pressure of someone grabbing her hand. Her eyes began focusing on the man in front of her as she felt the soothing pattern on the back of her hand. A pattern she knew. And when they did focus, she found worried eyes looking back at her.

His eyes. The same set of eyes that always brought her comfort when she needed it. Her light in the darkness. The one person who would know how to help her. If he was wanting to.

Her mind flashed with a memory of her putting several things into a box and sliding it over to a shop owner. The postcard that she had quickly written the address on before she wrote one single word in the text block. SIBERIA

“Your mission?”

“Take out the Avengers.”

“The priority?”

“The traitor to Hydra. He's problematic to the mission. He feeds information to the Avengers. His death means Hydra can do as it needs to.”

Hydra bases had been getting raided frequently. With each step they took to getting what they wanted, it seemed the Avengers were closely behind. It made her handler nervous and needed something to be done. But because of his position, he sent someone else to make sure Phantom would get the job done. But it hadn't.

The mission failed.

That was the moment her brain caught up with everything the last several months. Her mind had finally pieced together the time between her leaving the compound years ago and waking up several minutes ago.

“You were looking for me.” She said a moment later as she felt her mind finally clear.

“I got your postcard.” Bucky had seen the moment everything seemed to snap into place for her. And for the first time since she woke up, he was seeing the version of herself that he really knew and understood. “I only wish I had seen it sooner.” He watched as her brows furrowed in confusion. “We were on a mission. I didn't see it until we got back.”

“I didn't think-” The sound of the door opening and closing caught their attention for a moment. Natasha and Steve had stepped out of the room. A chance to give them a moment alone before they had to deal with Secretary Ross. “I didn’t have many options and part of me hoped that you wouldn't ignore it.”

Bucky sighed softly. “Even if I was still angry with you, I never would have left you there. No one deserves to be held under Hydra’s grasp.”

A sense of relief filled her. That the worrying she had about sending the postcard wasn't necessary. He would have seen it and came running. Though it made her wonder if he had still been angry with her, would he be standing where he was now? Would he have been waiting for her to wake up as he had been?

Her eyes wandered and it wasn't long before she was reminded of the bandages that covered his skin. Her blade. Her bullet. Her hand that wasn't in his hand came up to gently touch his neck.

“It's practically healed already.” He joked the moment he realized what she was doing. He could see it in her eyes as the self loathing began. A feeling he knew all too well.

“How bad are things?” She asked. Her voice had barely been above a whisper.

She couldn't meet his eyes as she asked. She couldn't look at him in the face when he told her how much chaos she had a hand in. Instead she focused on the bandage, desperately wishing it was transparent so she knew how bad it really had been. How deep her blade had gone.

“Nothing we haven't been able to handle.” He brought his left hand up under her chin and lifted it gently to get her attention away from his neck. The moment her eyes came up to his he gave her a small smile. “The main goal was to get you back.”

“How many-”

“It's not something you need to worry about right now.” It wasn't that he was trying to keep her from knowing. He knew how a number haunted him and he didn't want their first conversation to be about the demons that will haunt her over the next several months. “I know you need to know. But I need to know where your head is, right now.”

She was going to argue with him about it. She would make it so before they'd leave the room she'd have her answer. But she knew why he wanted to know where she was. There was an interrogation waiting for her.

“Sane, if that makes a difference.” It caused both of them to chuckle slightly. “I know who I am. But some of it is…” She shook her head slightly. “It's like it's locked away.”

“What pulled you in earlier when Natasha came in?” He asked curiously. He knew she was pulled into the memories. He saw the way her eyes had focused on one thing and nothing had gotten through to her.

“Being dragged out.” She looked towards the door before looking back at him. “I've been taken out of a few different places unwillingly.”

“I won't let that happen.” He promised. “But I have to get you over there before he sends someone in here.” She only nodded her head in response. “Interrogations have always been your thing. Don't let him run it.” Her eyebrow rose and Bucky could only shrug his shoulders as a smile pulled at his lips.

As Bucky began to lead her out of the room, he felt her grip on his hand tightened slightly. Out of an old habit, his thumb had begun drawing a pattern on the back of her hand. There was a lot the two of them needed to discuss. He was sure there would be arguments and their emotions would take over when they attempted to figure out the next step.

But for now he needed to help her get through the next few hours. As they made their way towards the interrogation rooms Bucky looked back and gave her a reassuring smile. He hadn't missed the way her head tilted towards the side as it seemed like a memory came to her.

“Because every time you looked back to check on me, all I could see was Bucky and not the asset that I was meant to put down.”

I refuse to complete the mission.

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Text

𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒍𝒖𝒎 (ma prune)

valentine's day masterlist

summary - winter goes to the markets to buy some plums as he usually does when he spies some flowers and fruits for you.

the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Winter didn’t understand anything, especially not Valentine’s Day. He didn’t understand the whole couple and gifting thing. It was confusing. No matter how often someone explained it, he still didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand the feeling he felt toward you, the sense of wanting to give you something and see that beautiful smile that made his heart beat extremely fast. He was told it wasn’t bad, but could he really trust someone’s word?

He was at the markets, buying plums… He couldn’t get enough of the plums, and while he was there, he grabbed a bunch of fruits he had seen you eat, knowing that you enjoyed them all. You were the only person he would share his plums with, though. If anyone else tried to touch one, he’d try and stab them. Apparently, he isn’t allowed to do that? You had explained that to him when he had attempted to stab Sam.

His sharp blue eyes spied a stand full of beautiful flowers, and they had reminded him of you, causing his feet to move toward them before he could think about it. He smiled awkwardly at the lady behind the stand, pointing nervously at a few of them and nodding when she asked if he wanted them to be made into a bouquet. He held them carefully as he began to walk back to the compound, not wanting to squash them with his strength. Winter goes through the doors and into the elevator, remembering which buttons to press after you showed him. When the doors opened, he walked through them and was immediately hit by your scent wafting through the air, and his heart began to nearly beat out of his chest when you rounded the corner.

“Winter! Your back! How did the markets go?” You smile, walking up to him and bringing him into a small hug. He relaxes into you the moment you touch him, feeling himself melt. He grunts, staring down at you with soft eyes. “Good, huh?” Your eyes move down and notice the flowers, “I see you expanded your purchase.” He nods before thrusting the flowers toward you, bobbing down at them. “For me?” He nods again, trying to smile as you grab them and bring them to your nose before watching him lift a separate bag filled with various fruits. “Winter… You didn’t have to do all this. But thank you, I love it.” You lean forward and place a gentle kiss on his cheek, smiling when they turn bright red.

His heart was beating so fast, staring down at you and feeling his breath hitch when you kissed his cheek. You are the most beautiful woman in the world, and your eyes were only on him. He wondered why someone so precious and beautiful would like someone like him. So broken and damaged, but you never saw him in that way, and that was what he loved about you.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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samodivaa · 5 months

Text

Soul-debasing Interrogation

Winter Soldier x Agent!Reader

Both his mentality and body can withstand anything—to err is...human—you are the human in this situation.

Warnings - smut, rough sex, choking

Words - 2900

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His face is a reflection of the past, of what is left of his life before, but his humanity has long forgotten where it belongs. You are now looking at something resembling a semi-death state, you can’t even comprehend the present condition of his soul, the mental pain or unbearably oppressive suffering he has been put through—a living creature, somewhat both broken and whole at the same time.

His eyelids slowly open, dark orbs focusing on the floor as he lets out a loud groan. He has the violent urge to move, but behind his back, both hands are bound with rope designed to eat away at the skin when he moves, even slightly. His ankles are as well bound to the legs of the chair—he makes an internal scoff at his current state.

“Here we go” you are already standing in between of his wide spread legs, grabbing his chin in a painful hold, waiting to speak when his glossy eyes are fully focused on yours “Try not to let this room scare you.”

A slumbering rage is stirring, rippling just beneath the surface. You are on the borderline, caught between the tides of fear and fury—him looking at you without blinking dismembers you mentally, but at the same time convinces him of the necessity to fight your fear.

It’s been days and nothing works, he seems unbreakable.

“Talk”

his jaw between your fingertips, grip still painfully tight, fingers turning white.

You are so sweet with your business-like tone—just imagine ripping out the tongue, so you could never speak again.

You study his features for a moment longer before letting go of his chin to slap his face hard, frowning in a sign of dissatisfaction.

“I said talk!“

„Ты так красива, что я забыл что хотел сказать тебе“ (You are so beautiful that I forgot what I wanted to tell you)

He finally says after a dramatic pause, his voice carrying its mocking undertones.

„You sick son of a bitch!“

You slap him again, he doesn’t show any reaction.

„White clothes, белый как снег?” (white as snow)

You put your hands on his knees and bent down, to whisper in his ear.

„I will fucking kill you”

A thin line closes around his throat and goes through, slowly cutting into his skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. After this, his head flies back, manicured fingers whirling around his hair, the little hairs on the back of his neck prickling. A groan escapes his dry lips, one that he doesn’t realize he’d been holding.

You drop the thin plastic line and place one nail under his chin, moving slowly, fascinated, nova-flare blue eyes blazing into your own.

„Will you talk now?“

he just sighs, shifting uncomfortably.

„Fuck…“

you whisper, a hint of exasperation and affront in your tone. You almost laugh, guilt twines with another failed attempt of getting any information out of him—you looks down at his trousers, then your eyes widen

„You are enjoying this”

In a full-fledged case of desire, Soldat is able to form both mental and physical representation of the thing he wants now and you don’t plan on initiating action to diminish his state.

Winter snorts at your words and looks at you with a smirk. He is obsessed with the situation, fascinated by you, infatuated with you. He hungers for your taste, your smell, the feel of your skin touching his. He is burning with desire, but keeps quiet about it—that’s his punishment he brings on himself, but there is no way he is begging his enemy—even in this state.

“Yes, I am” he says, with a venomous sneer “My eyes are up here, darling” he breathes.

That uncomfortable feeling is spreading over you as your eyes lift up to his lips, watching them part, taking deep breaths, the longing for him grows especially strong. You stand as though hesitating, suddenly the blood rushes to your head and sends a glow to your cheeks.

You are unable to endure his persistent stare, but you raise your downcast eyes and you finally smirk triumphantly at him as you struggle to breathe, suddenly straddling his thighs, loosening all of the ropes.

Winter watches with growing interest as you lean down, tucking a strand of his dark hair behind his ear.

Soldat’s eyes are the interpreter of the animal lust beneath, there is an unhealthy sallowness in the color of his orbits, he doesn’t even blink—his body is tense, a steel trap just waiting to be sprung open, but you don’t know that.

Your greedy lips are on his skin, devouring everything you can—licking, sucking, and kissing, not holding back your throaty moans. You drag your lips up his throat, along his jaw, back toward his mouth.

Eyes meet again.

The smirk on his face has disappeared and leaves an intensity behind in his eyes, narrowing into a glare. He is a silent fury who no torment could tame—but the finest fury is the most controlled, there is a murderous look in his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

you cry, face white and distorted, with a wan smile.

He laughs spitefully “It's either kiss you or kill you, that's how I see it”

His soul is overflowing but with mingled feelings, no single sensation stands out distinctly, but there is a need in his heart and his body. He grabs you by the hips and gets up with an unexpected growl. Sexual perversions mix with lust and adrenaline as his mind sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity, dropping you slowly on the cold floor.

The moment your feet touch the ground, you want to scream, but you are cut off with a rough kiss on your lips. He grinds his pelvis into you, so you can feel his hard length against your lower belly, and grips your ass through the flimsy pants.

“I will fuck you” he croons his plans into your ear, and then places a cold palm around your neck “But you need to beg me”

Dominance. Control.

Winter has lost control over everything, even the places in his head… it's paralyzing…of course he has an obsession about female obedience—his human fingers start teasing the crotch of your panties.

You gasp into his mouth, and the opening of your lips let his tongue slide through.

Your arms come up around his neck and he pulls you against him, hands flatten against your back…and you are up on the tips of your toes, kissing him as fiercely as he is kissing you.

He pulls away from you briefly to say gruffly “Come on, I want to hear it” his soul, overflowing with rapture, yearns for your pleas, skin, touch “I know you want me” he whispers with implicit faith in his words.

A whirl of the most fantastic notions takes possession of his brain when your eyes meet again—he clings to you more tightly, knotting his hands in your hair, wordlessy begging, hands sliding down to your waist.

He raises the metal hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers before the slightly damp digits are sliding into your panties and teasing your aroused folds and you exhale sharply, turning into a whining mewl as he circles your clit with ease.

“Say it”

he chuckles ruthlessly as the other hand bruises the skin on your waist, while his thumb circles down under your clit, closer to your entrance, fluids start to leak out. Your eyes meet again and something dangerous sparks, you suddenly feel your legs growing weak under you.

“Please-” you whisper, trembling with need and delight.

Winter almost stops when he hears you, his own breathing hitches a bit. He is watching you with an icy expression, voice falls to a whisper, as though he’s talking to himself

“Keep begging” a dark edge creeps into his tone.

“Please, don’t stop”

You shamelessly lift your leg up, placing it across his lower back and he swipes his thumb over your now throbbing clit before using two fingers to spread your lips apart. You never felt such stretching. It is cold and uncomfortable, but he forces his fingers inside as far as he can. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath, your skin breaks out into a pale sweat as he eases into a slow rhythm, curling his fingers inside, fracking, until your body twitches and walls clench around his fingers.

“Need me more” He pistons in and out of you as you clench around his fingers “Beg me more”

Every synapse in your brain short out—the gut-wrenching terror you feel, with a balance of sweet pleasure slide into mindlessness—

“Please, I need more, I need you-” you are cut off with an involuntary moan of rapturous pleasure, you are so close.

Those who constantly hunger for control outside of self are undoubtedly starved for peace inside of self—it doesn’t fucking matter, does it?

You’re powerless, weightless…utterly at his mercy and that’s what makes you cum—his gaze as he is staring at you, time stops. Those eyes are piercing yours, this is what makes you cum, he looks at you like he owns you.

The orgasm has gutted your vocal chords, and all you manage is a small gasp, he rasps something in your ear as he mouths against the skin of your neck, but you are too lost to hear it.

You are pushed against the wall, he tilts his head back and lowers his lips to yours and they get bitten to the point of bleeding. Winter feels a metallic taste on his tongue as he pulls back to admire his work, licking his lips, smiling disgustingly.

The sharp taste of blood only whetting his appetite. Winter wraps long slender fingers, around your throat, squeezing slightly and the feeling is too cold for it to be a human hand. His mouth is so close to your ear it makes your hair stand on end as he presses his hips against you, licking along the shell of your ear.

It is arousing, but dangerous—very dangerous.

Your other hand trails down his abdomen to his belt, and a finger dips in before you retrieve it—teasing him, the other hand still rubbing small circles on the tip. He shifts closer so his hardness presses against your hand unwillingly to your plans.

His right hand digs fingers into the flesh of your waist, the grip turning bruising and hard as before—the metal one now resting on the wall close to your head—as a warning, a reminder of the power he holds.

„Don’t you dare stop“ he whispers, the bite of his threat lost somewhere in his need for you to touch.

You need moments to unbuckle his pants, and Winter continues to trail your skin with kisses and whines when a hand slides into his boxers, the other holding closely to take the large cock in your small hands, covering it as much as you can.

You look down at his slick cock and nearly gag at the idea of just having it in your mouth, you want to be on his knees for him.

Drops of pre-cum drop to the floor.

Winter clenches his metal fist, trying to resist the urge to moan loudly, closing his lips he inhales through his nose, face contorting with openly weeping pleasure. He groans in reply, unable to fight your gentle touch, trying to fuck himself against the grip of your hands, too small to cover his whole length, throbbing with delight of that thought, orgasm begins to creep up on him.

You can’t help, but hang your jaw in bewilderment at the sight before—he is falling apart from the need to come, all he can do is tighten the grip against your waist—to urge you to please him.

He lets a choked moan escape his lips as you start to move your hands up and down, languidly stroking at his cock—his metal fingers whirling naturally around your neck, squeezing, not enough to break it, whines and whimpers escaping him as if he has no control over them any longer.

You observe every reaction and sound with wide lips and sultry eyes—heavy breathing from both of you as the pleasure hadn’t stopped yet—mesmerized yet almost confused as you’d never seen a killer be so needy for an orgasm, but you don’t dare comment.

“Don’t slow down”

He breaths out, eyebrows furrowing, his eyes shut, only grunts fill the cold air.

He opens his eyes, glossy and unfocused, and his face is deeply flushed—he is faced with your eyes stained with tears as you struggle to breathe—you nearly lose consciousness, how fragile your body is and how strong his is.

He chuckles at the sight—lust twisting his features, the grip around your neck finally loosens, the rush of blood and oxygen to the brain results in an explosion of dopamine, followed by erratic breathing.

He uses the moment to prise his tongue into your open mouth, forcing himself into you. You try to push and trash, but he holds you firm against the wall, his tongue sweeping over your lips, against your teeth, claiming you—leaking your tears.

Tasting the life he can easily take away from you.

You wiggles slightly, when he rips off your pants off, those piercing blue eyes trying to get a glimpse of your nakedness as his cock is still out, his fist tightening around the base, stroking slowly as his eyes drift south—dragging his metal finger slowly through your slit, the other hand once again moves on the waist in the same place—it hurts, bruises already forming from his tight hold.

It is obvious that Winter is not human, his body, his dick is too big to be human. You shiver at the sight of his length, hard and needy. His eyes are completely blue, with no pupil or white, two seas full of desire—he will drown you in them.

Soldat lifts your leg to gain a better angle to your hole. Your lips are slick and swollen, but the opening is stretching tight around his cock, trying to enter you completely, you cry out, your back arching at the pain. You freeze, blood running cold as he slaps you hard across the face.

The dark-haired man stares back with ill-concealed suspicion.

He is big, wide and fills you deliciously—every time you assume that he's fully sheathed, he pushes in a bit more and makes you moan loudly.

You buckle your hips as best you can despite his rough movements, meeting him thrust for thrust, desperate to feel him buried inside of you.

He is rough with you, not taking his time, not easing you into it.

“Please, slow down, it is too much-”

“Shut up and take it”

he trembles at the way you say beg, because of him, his mind was a blank canvas accosted by nothing—now, it is all about you, about pleasure.

And you tremble like a downy rabbit caught in the clutches of a wolf—he seizes you as boldly as if you are his prey. He thrust with force, you don’t even have time to adjust, he is too eager.

You moan both from pleasure and pain—It's so tight, squeezing the life out of his cock and he loves the idea of hurting you, it is too erotic not to think about it. He fucks you with lazy, slow thrusts, just enjoying the sensations of sex.

“You are taking me so good” he pants against your throat

he enjoys the suction feeling onto his cock, pummeling your cunt ruthlessly, hitting over the tender spot and you groan, loudly. Your throat feels raw from all the moans.

You exist there, whimpering, taking a fortifying breath, feeling the approach of your own orgasm, compressed by him as he ravages you, marks you.

Hard, long, deep trust that forces moans out of both of you.

You immediately bite your lip, panting, stopping yourself from moaning more, but your spine bends back and your body stretches taut, insides clenching and spamming around his cock—the sound that escapes your lips is so unearthly that it drives him to the edge.

He slams into you as his cock explodes in an endless amount of cum, overflowing out of you, dripping on the floor. He groans as he continues to slam into you, even as you feel overly sensitive as your own orgasm reaches its peak.

He leans down, far enough that the dark ends of his hair brushes feather-light against your face, his metal hand is around your throat, squeezing tightly—you lose consciousness, thinking that he is killing you, but you just pass out.

Sex is another practiced art to him. Each move is calculated. His brain is programmed to perform, his body seducing his prey with ease, noting each response of his target.

Fear and seduction, repulsion and attraction—that's how corruption is spread, turning squalor and nastiness into thrill, seduces the target into his own web—and leaves with the corpse on his hands.

What a devilish creature, master of the art of Death and Seduction, all its nuance, all its depth and complexity—but he spared your life?

#okay but hear me out #winter soldier smut #winter soldier fic #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier fanfiction

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mandyyvibes · 24 days

Text

For Reasons Wretched and Divine

Chapter 1: “Run.”

“On your left,” Steve huffed, because once a little punk, always a little punk, and he liked seeing folks’ reactions.

@catws-anniversary

#CATWS10 #fandom event #marvel #marvel fanfiction #ao3 #fic rec #ao3 author #stucky #stucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #winter soldier #winter soldier fic #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #clintasha #samsteve #polyavengers #catws canon divergence

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subwaysurf45 · 1 year

Note

Is there any way we can get more Drabble or stories for team Bucky? I would love to see more from them. Like if Steve has a girlfriend? Or his pov?

Team Bucky pt. 2

It's hard to leave a story with a little bit of angst so here we go, let's be friends again!

A/N: here’s part one

The moment Steve understood you and Bucky’s relationship was not too long after telling you he was warming up to the idea of this relationship.

You were wheeled in on the stretcher, completely unconscious with burn marks on your legs. Steve just happened to be in the medical wing, talking to the receptionist Mary. His world completely stopped when you popped in from the corner of his eye, doctors pushing you extremely fast to a trauma room. One doctor stayed back and leaned over to Mary, using medical terminology and speaking fast so Steve didn’t pick up on a lot of what was happening, all he could understand was what he saw.

Mary began to write everything, seeing Steve’s face and explaining it to him - all of it.

The first thing Steve did was run the other way, to go find Bucky. As Steve ran down the corridor and made a right Bucky was already sprinting towards med-bay, FRIDAY most likely made an announcement in their room.

Steve didn’t wait for Bucky to ask, “she’s unconscious but still breathing on her own,” he pivoted and ran beside Bucky, “burns on her legs as well as head trauma, she’s in room three but we can’t go in to prevent infection,” they had made it and stopped by Mary’s desk, “we have to wait at the chairs?” This question was directed at Mary.

“Yes, can I get you guys some water?” She guided them both over. Both of them said yes and sat down, looking straight forward and not saying anything.

The moment Steve heard a sniffle his head whipped over to see Bucky with his head almost between his knees, hands covering his entire face to stifle the cries. Hesitantly, Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s back, causing Bucky to unleash his tears and lean towards Steve.

“We both know she’s a fighter,” Steve whispered, “you know more than anyone her grit and her ability to bounce back, alright?” his hand rubbed Bucky’s back.

Bucky nodded and sat up, “I just-” he sighed and wiped down his face, “it feels like I’m losing everyone close to me.”

“What?” Steve whispered.

“I feel like I lost you as my best friend and now I’m losing my girlfriend,” Bucky cried as he looked over, “I just feel like my entire life is slipping through my fingers and I can’t make it stop.”

Steve sighed, “Buck, listen to me.” he waited until Bucky fully looked him in the eyes, “I know you guys haven’t cared for my update with this relationship but I support it, I have seen time and time again your love for one another and I have painfully realized y/n doesn’t need protecting and she certainly doesn’t need me controlling,” they both let out a dry laugh, “part

of me was hurt I was left out of the loop but that was the initial sting, after blowing up I felt like I couldn’t find the right path to get back into your guy’s life so yeah, I pulled away and gave up on trying.”

“I get that,” Bucky nodded along, “we were going to sit you down and explain, this was not going to be a thing where we surprise you at the wedding or with an engagement ring, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Steve kept his hand on Bucky’s back, “I wanted y/n all to myself and when I realized I couldn’t have that I freaked out because I thought I had lost everything but I didn’t realize she was still there. For that,” Steve’s eye became glossy, “I’m sorry. For pulling away from you, for being selfish, for not taking a moment to listen, and for not trying harder to make things work.”

Bucky smiled, “thanks, bud,” it was as sincere as Steve’s apology, “but this-”

“When y/n wakes up I want to go in there right away and say the same thing,” Steve quickly cut Bucky off, knowing what Bucky was going to say. “I know what you mean when you say you feel yourself losing everything, I feel it in this moment too and I understand. I’m not apologizing because of a dire situation but because I feel like it’s the right time so I’m taking it.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair, “you can go in first, she’d be happy to see you.”

********

Steve was slowly coming out from his sleep, he could already feel the knot in his neck from resting in the hospital chairs. Someone was clearing their throat and Steve just thought it was Bucky, it was hard for him to fall asleep in public and was probably still wide awake so Steve kept his eyes closed.

In his mind he went over what he was going to say and how, he was going to give you time to yell at him and release all the pent up anger towards him. He’d walk in slowly and quickly answer that Bucky was still outside and take a seat, he’d be calm and talk slowly. If you began to cough he’d shoot up and get a glass of water, helping you drink it and wiping your chin of anything that slipped past your lips. He’d take a deep breath and start with-

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes.” The coughing has turned into a voice, a low voice that didn’t belong to Bucky.

They both opened their eyes and took in how they were sleeping. Bucky’s head was resting on Steve’s shoulder and Steve’s head was resting on Bucky’s head, Steve’s arm still sitting on Bucky’s back.

They laughed at themselves and looked forward, both letting out a noise after seeing you sitting in a wheelchair. Neither of them knew what to say, both stunned you were awake and out of bed.

“y/n has been discharged, she needs to be wheeled back to her room.”

Steve stood, “but she had burns on her legs, shouldn’t she stay here at least at night?” Steve looked at Bucky and saw he had the same worried expression, Bucky quickly nodded.

“No,” the doctor said, “the burns have been wrapped and there wasn’t actually any head trauma, just some blood from someone else,” you nodded, “her heart and blood pressure is great, everything is good to go.”

“I’ll fill out the discharge papers, you can take her back to the room,” Bucky stood and took the clipboard, he looked at you, “Steve wants to talk so I’ll give you space.”

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, Steve saw the reassuring look Bucky gave you. You looked up at Steve and smiled, “can you take my back to my room and we can talk there?”

“Of course,” Steve walked around and grabbed the handles, “do you want to stop by the kitchen first?”

“No thank you,” you placed your hands in your lap as Steve wheeled you out.

********

“-and that,” Steve said as his voice shook, “is why I am so unbelievably sorry for everything I caused you,” he wiped the tears off his face but it did nothing. He watched your lip tremble, and cried a little more when you stretched out your arms, “I’m so sorry little sis, you have no idea.”

You nodded and cried as well, “I’m so glad we had this chat, I thought I was going to lose you and I understand everything.”

“Even the Peggy part?” Steve pulled away, “I just don’t want you to feel that heartbreak like I did,” you nodded with a smile, “the business we’re in I mean…I just don’t want my little sister to get hurt but I know that’s so-”

He stopped when your finger touched his lips, “I understand,” you smiled, “and I forgive you.”

“Thank God,” he whispered and fell back into the hug, holding on for dear life. “I’m never going to make that mistake again, ever.” Steve squeezed you tightly, “I’m keeping my plan to walk you down the aisle.” Both of you giggled and held each other a little tighter

“I love you, big bro.”

“You too, little sis.”

Bucky stood quietly in the doorway, smiling to himself at the image he saw before him. It felt like the tension dissolved but most importantly a weight had been lifted off of everyone's shoulders, it felt nice to simply co-exists again.

Main Masterlist

Taglist: tag list: @imtherain@jackiehollanderr@redneckstrash@tylard-blog1@readingbooksdrinkingtea@linzc-reader@hotleaf-juice@honeybunchesofbucky@sky0401@striving4averagegirl@seybox@yaszx@happyt0exist@honeybunchesofbucky@munsonettee@searchf0rtheskyline@aya-fay@emi11ie@wbyss

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gococogo · 1 year

Note

hi love! i was wondering if i could request a bucky/steve thigh riding story??? like having bucky degrade so hard then steve counter acting it with praise

-Lyn

Memories

「Synopsis 」 : Steve is curious if Bucky remembers more than he lets on and realizes that both are wanting more than they show.

「Word count」 : 1.93K

-> Genre: Marvel Smut

Paring: Steve Rogers / Bucky Barnes

[Warnings] : Thigh riding/Praise/slight degradation/adult themes

Notes: Thank you for you for your request! I got a little carried away with this one. I changed it up a tony bit but kept in what you asked for.

Sam was gone and it just left the two of them in the small car. Bucky sits quietly in the back, almost trying to hide himself behind the seat so Steve can’t see him in the review mirror. He’s happy that Bucky is here, but he also has to remind himself that this man isn’t the same one he knew.

“Do you remember,” Steve starts, “the time when we snuck into the back of that taxi?”

Bucky comes into view in the mirror and his eyes are deep in thought. He finally meets Steve’s gaze through the mirror.

“You were much smaller then,” Bucky says, and Steve can’t help the smile that comes on his face. “We got stuck in there because of you.”

Steve wonders if Bucky remembers the rest of the incident or if he just remembers it vaguely. He doesn’t want to push so Steve looks back out the window for Sam.

“How did we get out of the trunk?” Bucky asks.

Steve can feel his face heat up something red. Should he tell the exact story or should he just tell a lie. A tightens begins in his gut. He’s so unsure of how much Bucky remembers. How much Bucky feels or if those old feelings are still there.

“We called out to someone after a couple of hours being stuck in there. The taxi driver got us out and we ran for the hills so we wouldn’t get in trouble,” Steve lies through his teeth.

Bucky stares at him through the mirror. “I don’t remember it going like that,” he says softly.

So, he does remember how it went? Steve turns around to look at Bucky face to face. They’re both silent for a few passing seconds until Steve speaks.

“How do you remember it?” He asks.

Bucky looks down at his lap, anywhere but at Steve. A minute goes by but Steve waits. Bucky answers, “I remember us kissing…” he trails off and shakes his head lightly, “I must be remembering it wrong, sorry.”

Steve places a hand on his knee, scaring Bucky a little but it brings his gaze back to him. A little hope flickers inside of Steve and he wants to see how much more Bucky knows.

“No, keep going,” Steve urges.

Bucky looks down at the hand holding his thigh. “I… I held you close to me as I spoke into your ear. It was a tight squeeze, but we were still able too⸻“ He cuts himself off. His face is flushed red of embarrassment, and he can’t look Steve in the eye.

Somehow, Steve is able to crawl from the front into the back seat. It takes both of them by surprise when he doesn’t get stuck halfway through. But what does take Bucky by surprise is when Steve leans heavily over him.

“Keep going,” Steve urges on. “Show me how you held me.”

Bucky stares at him wide eyed and his mouth slightly parted. His heart beats heavily in his chest and he’s paralysed for a moment. These feelings for Steve that have been coming forth with every memory have been intoxicating. It’s been so many years he would have thought that Steve would’ve moved on. But maybe he got it completely wrong. Bucky looks out into the little alley way they’re in. Sam has gone off to do god knows what but it’ll take him some time before he comes back.

As Bucky looks back to the blonde, Steve is the first to move. He sits awkwardly on Bucky’s lap the best he can in the back seat of the car. Bucky finds himself placing his hands on Steve’s thighs, as if it’s something he doesn’t have to think about. Steve tries to lean back so his chest isn’t right in Bucky face but he ends up doing this awkward hunched over sit.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks.

Bucky swallows thickly. “This is something how I remember it,” he answers.

Steve chuckles lightly, a sound that is nice to Bucky’s ears. All of this is coming back as familiar but every time he thinks too hard, he loses it.

“How else do you remember it?” Steve asks, urging the other on.

Bucky has to think now. Remember how the memory went. He tries not to think too hard; he lets the memory come to him.

“I remember this laying down,” Bucky says.

“We were stuck in the trunk,” the blonde interjects. “We couldn’t sit up.”

Bucky grabs Steve’s side though and ever so gently, repositions them so that the blonde is laying down on the back car seats. Bucky hovers over him now with a knee between Steve’s legs and hands still gripping his sides.

“This is how I remember it,” Bucky adds.

“What happened next?” Steve asks with a smile.

Bucky slowly lowers himself down, so they’re face to face. There’s hesitation in those icy blue eyes that Steve can’t stand to see. He brings a hand up to caress Bucky’s face, then gently brings him down for a kiss. Bliss fills Steve’s chest. The kiss is soft but familiar, as if Bucky is worried about hurting him. Steve rakes his hand through Bucky’s out grown hair and holds tight, not wanting to let this moment go. Bucky is the first to pull away, millimetres away from each other’s face. They both breathe in and out heavily and collect themselves.

Bucky murmurs something into Steve’s neck that he can’t make out. Steve pulls Bucky’s face into view and forgets how beautiful he is. Steve has missed this. He’s missed Bucky so much. He’s missed the dazed look Bucky gets in his eyes. He’s missed the feeling of Bucky’s scruff rubbing up against his face as they kiss. He’s missed Bucky’s hands around him, grabbing him, and squeezing.

“What was that?” Steve asks finally.

“Are ready for what happened next in the trunk?” Bucky whispers down to him.

His voice goes straight to Steve’s crotch. “Yes,” he breathes out.

Bucky brings the knee that is between Steve’s leg upwards. The shock of pleasure and the grunt that escapes his throat that is forced out of Steve reminds him that he hasn’t done this since before he was frozen in the ice. He wonders how long it’s been for Bucky.

Steve grinds back down on Bucky’s knee, stuttering at the electric feel that zips through his senses. Maybe it’s the serum, but everything feels ten times more heightened. Steve’s hands find their way onto Bucky’s shoulders as they ease into a rocking motion. Steve grinds down on Bucky’s knee with a desperation. He gets lost in himself until Bucky says something.

“Huh?” He breathes out.

Bucky takes another go at it. “I then remember calling you things,” he says.

“Like what?”

“Like,” Bucky hesitates a moment, “Like whore, needy and slut,” with each word said he grinds upwards into Steve.

Steve can’t help the moans that escape his mouth with each motion. Each word sends a thrill up his back. He use to love this when they were back in their apartment. Back in Brooklyn when it was just him and Bucky against the world. But he’s not here to be called those names today. He’s here to come together with something old.

“No,” Steve says in a hush. “Let’s skip that part of the memory. I want you to be good for me.”

Bucky gives a short nod, an eagerness coming to his soft eyes. “Okay,” his voice is so delicate it’s almost lost to the panting and heavy breathing in the car.

Steve brings him down for another kiss, deepening this one with pure need. Repositioning himself slightly, Steve bends his knees and gets his feet on something solid. Either the seat or the door it doesn’t matter. He arches his back so he’s able to grind on Bucky’s thigh instead of just his knee. One of his legs is in between Bucky’s and they’re interlocked, grinding down on each other. Steve can feel Bucky through his jeans, he’s as turned on from this as Steve is. They both need friction. Their movements start to become desperate as they begin chasing their highs. Steve pulls away from the kiss and gives light pecks on Bucky’s cheek and down his neck as he catches his breath.

“You’re being so good,” Steve mumbles out.

Bucky’s movement stutters at the sudden praise. His hands move up Steve’s side and under his shirt. The metal hand is cold to touch and Steve flinches at the suddenness of it. Bucky’s movements stop, as if he’s hurt the blonde.

“Keep going,” Steve urges. “You’re fine.”

Bucky looks down at him for a moment, unmoving. Steve is so close and he wants to keep going but he doesn’t want to push Bucky into it any further than he wants to.

“We didn’t get this far in the trunk,” Bucky finally speaks.

It makes Steve chuckles from his chest. “No, we didn’t.”

“Someone heard us and found us in the trunk,” Bucky remembers the last part of the memory. “We had to run.”

The memory brings a warm feeling to Steve’s heart. A time from when they both didn’t care and did whatever they set out to do.

“We can finish what we started back then,” Steve adds quickly.

That brings a cheeky smile to Bucky’s face, something that’s contagious and has the blonde smiling as well. Bucky moves forward a bit so he has a better angle to grind down on Steve and vis a versa.

“I’d like that,” Bucky permits, giving Steve the green light to move downwards on the other.

Bucky’s hands run further up Steve’s body and land on his chest. They squeeze and Bucky’s mouth opens slightly as he grinds down. Steve uses his body to grind upwards, pulling Bucky further down on top of him. The two of them become needy and desperate. Panting and groaning in each other’s ears, turning Steve on with the more he hears.

“Bucky,” Steve breathes out his name before he finally releases in his pants.

He stutters and gasps for air. It’s as if the air as been knocked out of him. He’s never came with the serum in his system and he feels twice as much as he usually would. Bucky keeps rutting down on his thigh, trying to get to his own high.

Steve reaches down and palms his cock trapped in his pants. Bucky pants louder as the helping hand gets him closer, and closer. He’s such a lovely sight, the desperation to get to his orgasm. Finally, Bucky comes stuttering and holding onto Steve for dear life. The two of them stay stuck to each, collecting themselves and catching their breath. Steve feels like he’s back in school coming in his pants from rutting down on something.

The moment is long lived as a short tapping comes from the window. Bucky sits up so quickly he hits his head on the roof of the car. He holds his head as he curses under his breath. The driver side door opens and Sam pokes his head in. He visibly flinches back, his nose scrunching up at the smell.

“Are you guys done yet?” Sam asks bitterly. “I’ve been waiting for you fellas to finish your stuff for a while now.”

Steve tries to sit up the best he can. The embarrassment that tightens his chest is crippling. His face is probably bright tomato red; he can feel it.

“How long have you been out there?” Steve asks.

Sam scoffs, “Long enough.”

Do not steal, plagiarize, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape or form.

Masterlink

NAV

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rassvetsky · 1 year

Note

i was wondering if u can come up with ‘a trust issue who needs reassurance all the time’ reader and ‘i dont know how to communicate my feelings’ bucky. basically a miscommunication trope.

i will accept however storyline and ending you make because i love you and i love ur writing💕❤️❤️

hi babe!! i really really hope i did your wonderful request at least some justice because i got too carried away-- i hope you like it! thank you for existing ♡

Out Of Mind

bucky barnes x reader

"Falling in love with you terrified Bucky, enough to push you away. He was sure that it's better this way. But merely a week later, when you disappear without a trace, Bucky realized that he couldn't handle being without you."

[5.2k] | angst with a happy ending, miscommunication, arguing, bucky being an asshole at first but he has his reasons, natasha being protective, sassy tony, canon level violence, fighting, reader getting minor injuries, clint is the loml, bucky is an idiot in love my dudes, they're so cute god help me

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

Bucky used to be a simple man, Steve had told you long ago. After all those years of torture, he developed… Complexity.

And you couldn't agree more.

He was a tender lover to begin with, the one to always make sure that you were alright, the one to put your wellbeing above his. He wasn't good with words- wasn't the most expressive man out there, but you understood him. You understood why he never included cards in the flowers he sent to you, or sometimes didn't say anything back to your love declarations other than a bashful smile; you understood that for him, these things worked in different ways now.

And that's why he loved you so much. That's why he was terrified.

Because the deeper he fell for you, the more intense his feelings got. The harder his separation anxiety hit, the more mushed his brain became.

And in any other scenario, that would be lovely. Those butterflies that one would feel in their stomach, or the sweet little dumbification that came hand to hand with love. In another life, he'd bask in the feeling. He'd see the world around him under a different light, a light that you cast on his life.

But in this life? It was nothing but dangerous. Nothing but absolutely horrendous.

Because he was supposed to focus. He was supposed to be alert. His fight or flight response had to be on at all times and no matter what, he was supposed to prioritize his life to save the others.

He couldn't do that when you were involved, not anymore. The paranoia got too much- he was terrified of seeing you get hurt, of losing you in any way. That fear brought out the worst in him, causing fights to break out whenever you willingly got yourself in trouble, distracting him, making you drift apart further.

You didn't want that. He didn't want that. But life for you wasn't always just movie nights at the compound, breakfasts on bed, long nights of talking about the future.

He had to let the chips fall where they may.

You needed reassurance, he knew that. But suddenly, after the last mission you went on with the team including Bucky, he suddenly… Stopped doing that. That bashful grin was nowhere to be seen when you told him you loved him, when you held his hand it just didn't last as long as it usually did, he… He didn't even look at you properly. And that went on for days, each day worse than the one before, until he barely even talked to you.

And the dread you felt on your chest was unbearable.

The night-time fell quicker than any other day that one evening, as you prepared yourself a warm tea to accompany your book. Carrying the mug up to your shared room with Bucky, you slowly got under the sheets, holding the book open with one hand, mug with the other.

The plot was barely interesting to you with all the thoughts running through your mind, snatching your attention from the words, making you have to go back and reread the same paragraphs over and over. It wasn't anything new, this type of distraction, but more often than not, it was the aftermath of the latest mission plaguing your mind. Not your boyfriend being excessively restrained towards you, as if your sole existence was a problem for him.

Speaking of, maybe it was. Maybe you were too high-maintenance for him, maybe you weren't giving him enough space, maybe he was just going through something. Or maybe, he was done with you. He didn't need you anymore, now that he got rid of the vivid nightmares and dissociations-

How cruel of you to think that. How cruel of him to leave that open as a possibility.

With your tea half-drank, you set the mug back on the nightstand, pinning the bookmark between the pages before leaving it by the mug. You didn't feel like laying down- didn't think you could fall asleep with your mind on overdrive like this anyway. Getting up from where you were laid across, you slowly made your way over to the window, arms crossed on your chest as you heaved a sigh. The view was nice, moonlight illuminated enough of the surrounding trees, and if you were to squint, you could see the grass shine wetly, with a layer of dew upon them.

You couldn't help the way your shoulders tensed a bit when the door knob twisted open, hearing the heavy steps of your lover and a sigh leaving his lips. Your back was facing him still, and you didn't dare to look at him, figuring he was busy changing his clothes judging by the shuffling sound of fabric.

The slight squeak of the mattress brought a bitter grin to your lips as you spoke up. "Not even gonna talk to me?"

He was quiet for a full minute. "Sorry. I'm tired, sweetheart."

"Of me?"

"What?" he sounded surprised. "Wha- why would I be tired of you?"

"I don't know." you sighed. "You've been acting incredibly distant for the past week. Figured I was tiring you out."

Another squeak, he was on his feet now. Slowly walking towards you, he rested a hand on the small of your back, but you still didn't look at him. You wouldn't admit that to yourself but you really didn't want to know the truth.

"Don't be ridiculous," he spoke, tone quiet. "It's just that… The missions, you know how they-"

"We went through rougher missions back then," you chuckled. "On the verge of death, covered in blood. Missions that went on for months. You didn't treat me like this then."

"How am I treating you?"

"Like I'm a fucking nuisance!" you finally snapped, pushing his hand away from your body before turning towards him. Your eyes were wide with anger, chest heaving. "You're treating me like you don't even want to see me!"

"You're my girlfriend!" he was bewildered, albeit a bit guilty. "Of course I want to see you, what the fuck are you even talking about?!"

A scoff left your lips. "Fuck that! You used to treat me better when we were barely friends," you watched him look away, annoyed. "I've been trying to give you some space but you- you just won't tell me shit! You're barely talking to me, anyway! How the hell am I supposed to know what I did wrong if you won't even talk to me, Bucky?!"

Bucky felt his heart getting heavier. "Stop assuming that you did something wrong-"

"Then what else?! What else can I assume? For fuck's sake, am I supposed to assume that there's someone else, or you're just- you're just sick of me. That you don't need me anymore, is that what I'm supposed to think?" you could feel the tears building up by your waterline. "Fucking hell, it'd hurt way less if I was sure that it's all my fault! Or- even if you were- I just- just tell me what the fuck is wrong with you, please?"

"Nothing!" he was loud, suddenly. The sudden outburst had you taking a step back in instinct, and he panicked so hard for a moment that he almost took a step towards you.

He knew he shouldn't.

"Nothing, okay? Just one of those weeks. Leave it alone."

"Fine." you sighed. "Fine, I'll leave it alone. I'll leave you alone, Bucky, to figure your shit out and- please, for the love of God, don't talk to me until you do. I'm done being treated like garbage." and with a final shove to his chest, you walked out of the door.

Bucky knew that he deserved that.

Hell, he deserved a solid punch for the way he was treating you but he didn't know how else to act. He didn't know what else to do. He was so sick of worrying, being in a constant state of paranoia because of you, so sick of his heart hurting like someone reached right into his chest and severed it off whenever you got hurt.

Was he protecting himself, or you?

"Hey," Sam swiftly sat by Bucky's side with a bowl of cereal on his palms, not giving the other a chance to walk away before speaking up again. "You good? You look like… Hell, I can't sugarcoat this. You look like absolute shit."

Bucky felt like absolute shit.

"I'm fine." he muttered, eyes trained on the big TV screen in front of them. The compound had been pretty quiet for the past few weeks, with the main troublemakers scattered around the globe for a mission.

Sam saw right through his bullshit, though. "Your girl ain't talking to you?"

"None of your business."

"She looks like absolute shit too."

Bucky took a moment to process that.

"Did you guys fight?"

"Again, none of your business, Sam." heaving a sigh, Bucky slowly pushed himself up to his feet, leaving Sam sitting on the couch all alone. Natasha, who was busy making herself something to eat to get through lunch, decided to chime in after Bucky managed to take a few steps away.

"You push her away the second things get hard and then wonder why she hates you."

If looks could kill, Bucky's would murder everyone in that room under three seconds. "She doesn't hate me."

"You want her to hate you."

"Bullshit."

"Because you hate yourself. Isn't that it?"

Sam's eyes were wide when he looked at Natasha. She was the one to deliver a hard kick on the shin when one needed it, tough-loving and relentless with her words- not to hurt the other, but to give them a chance to see things from a different perspective.

When Bucky didn't say anything, Natasha decided to continue. "I don't know how you're justifying this in that 'cyborg' brain but you don't have one single right to punish her. For absolutely no reason, too."

"Natasha-"

"Shut it, Sam." she shook her head. "We get it, you don't like fights. But I never took you for a coward, James, and you're not being anything else but that with the way you're refusing to fight for her."

Nobody said anything else for a solid minute, while Natasha kept glaring at Bucky. His eyes were on the ground now, the harsh nature of Natasha's words hitting him right across the chest- and it hurt. It hurt bad, because he knew that he was hurting you on purpose. "How do I make it right?"

"In my opinion? Leave her the fuck alone-"

"No, no. Natasha, calm your horses," Sam got up from where he was seated, approaching the two with a relaxed expression to calm them both down. "Just tell her how you feel, man. Be real with her. Be completely honest- if you don't love her anymore, just say so. If that's not the case, then-"

"I love her, Sam."

A soft sigh left Sam's lips. "I know. Just talk to her. She'll understand."

Bucky shook his head in a nod. The idea of talking to you was nerve-wracking, to say the least. You hadn't talked to him in a week, despite living in the same compound. Didn't even dare to step into your shared room when he was there, instead deciding to take on a vacant room for a while and get your work done in silence.

You were afraid of continuing that argument, honestly. Because you and Bucky- you two weren't the type to argue. Problems would be solved in peace at all times, with both parties admitting to their faults. So when that dynamic changed, it freaked you out. Just like how falling in love with you freaked out Bucky.

"FRIDAY," Bucky called out. "Where's Y/N?"

An automated voice answered immediately. "I'm afraid that information is classified." Bucky tensed up quicker than he'd like to admit.

"What?" Sam muttered under his breath, gaze finding Natasha's confused one. Natasha spoke up not too long afterwards. "What do you mean by classified?"

"Mr. Stark specifically requested that I keep Mrs. Y/L/N's current location confidential."

"Fucking hell," Bucky heaved a sigh. "Have any of you seen her today?"

"Nah," with a shrug, Sam walked towards the counter to set down his bowl of cereal, suddenly not interested in the food but rather, your whereabouts. "Last I saw her… Yesterday evening, yeah. She was leaving Tony's office, didn't say anything."

"Where did she go after that?"

"Man, how would I know? I'm not keepin' tabs on your girlfriend, that's your job."

"FRIDAY, where's Tony?" Natasha ignored the two, focusing on the matter at hand. For all she knew, you weren't the one to keep secrets from the team. Even on solo missions, you would always keep your tracker on just in case.

"In his office. Shall I inform Mr. Stark of your visit?"

"Nope." lips pressed into a thin line, and a not-so-apologetic shrug. Typical Tony Stark nature. "Just because you live here doesn't mean you have to know everything."

"But she's my girlfriend."

"Just because she made that mistake doesn't mean you have to know everything, Barnes." Tony quipped. "If anyone else in this room was on her position and I were to give away your location, which she specifically made sure that I wouldn't tell, I would be murdered horrendously."

"It's not like her to do that." Natasha's tone was way softer than Bucky's, understandably. She was mad at Bucky and worried about you at the same time but still, keeping her cool was an art form and she was doing it beautifully. "We're just worried, that's all."

"You don't seem like her parents to me."

"Would you tell us if we were her parents?"

"Wilson, use your head. Of course I wouldn't." plopping down on his seat with a huff, Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you'd beg to differ but I'm a very virtuous and excruciatingly handsome man, and I made a promise, so… The door is right behind you. I got a lot of stuff to do."

The sound of Bucky's palm meeting the desk separating him from Tony caused everyone's eyes to find his, including Tony. "You have to give me something."

"I don't owe you anything." Tony's words were like venom as they dripped from his tongue, his challenging gaze on Bucky's rampageous one. "But if you really, really want her to hate all of you, fine. She's on a solo mission."

"A solo mission?! You sent her on a solo mission?!" Sam was quick to grab Bucky by the arm, pulling him back a little.

"Man, calm down-"

"Last time I checked, she was perfectly capable of handling a mission and taking care of herself." Tony spoke, calm despite the furious man standing in front of him. "She wanted to go. Why the hell would I say no?"

"Bucky, he's right." Natasha pushed herself up from the wall she was leaning on. Signaling for Sam to possibly take Bucky out of the office with her eyes, she approached the desk. "I'm sure she's fine and she only did that just so you wouldn't go after her."

"Yeah," Sam continued. "Let's just- let's get you out of here. She'll be back before you know it."

Tony didn't miss the glare Bucky sent his way when he left the office with Sam.

Feeling Natasha's judgmental eyes on him, he looked up at her, leaning back on his seat comfortably. "Do you need anything?"

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing, except for her location."

"No," Natasha shook her head. "It's obvious you didn't tell us everything. I'm not expecting you to, but I've known you for a long time, Tony. I can see it when you're leaving a crucial part out."

A sigh left Tony's lips.

"She's indeed on a solo mission. A mission that I know absolutely nothing about, and she disabled her own tracker."

"Are you sure nobody knows you're here?"

"God, Clint, what's with all the secrecy?" you weren't even sure your hushed whisper was heard by Clint, crowded streets of Hong Kong were noisy enough to usher a headache within you. You hadn't seen him in a while, with him retiring again, and God he retired a lot, but after receiving a message with 'emergency, don't tell anybody.' and coordinates, you rushed to his aid rather immediately.

You owed him a lot.

Following him to a small apartment building as he pushed the door open, you looked behind to see if anybody was following, before climbing up the stairs with him. "What's going on?"

"Extraction." he whispered. "Kind of a sensitive one. Tony didn't want anyone involved."

"I really think Laura should lock you up sometimes."

"So do I, kid."

Your time spent in his small hideout apartment was filled with intel and planning. It was supposed to be a very quiet mission, a sensitive one like he mentioned earlier- a swift infiltration to save a former SHIELD agent from where he was held prisoner, just so he could return to his research.

You didn't quite understand why Tony wouldn't want anyone to be involved and to save the agent, but you weren't going to ask. You trusted Clint, sometimes more than you did Tony, and if Clint told you that what he's doing was right, then you'd believe him.

The next day, with both of you suited up, his arrows ready and your secret knives hidden beneath layers of fabric all around your body; the quiet approach to the building went pretty smoothly. He kept telling you to keep your cool and to keep it quiet. This was a stealth op, and made sure to assure you that you were excellent at those.

Except, for all the stealth operations, your partner was Bucky. He was the one who knew exactly what you were going to do without needing you to tell him, he was the one who fought by your side, in so much sync with you that it felt like you two were one mind split to two bodies. You felt safer when he was by your side, calm enough to perform better.

You didn't tell Clint that. You didn't tell him that you felt way too insecure without Bucky by your side to perform well.

He was expecting your help, and you were going to deliver.

Except, things took a turn for the worse far too quickly. You got into the room in which the agent was kept, with Clint following from far behind to keep you safe; and saved the agent from his restraints. Before you could lead him out, though, you heard Clint telling you to stop taking your time because apparently, a swarm of people were coming your way, and he had to hide.

You helped the agent all the way down to the ground from the first floor, through the piping by the outer side of the wall and informed Clint of your current location, before spotting a few men running your way.

Pushing the agent away towards the woods where he could hide and protect himself, you pulled your gun out and managed to down at least two of the five men. You noticed one of them following the agent as the two attacked you; landing a harsh kick by one's neck before sliding out your knife and swinging it at the other's direction, but the distraction that they needed came quickly when through your in-ear, you heard Clint's voice again.

"Shit, abort. Get the hell out of there, get away from the building."

And a loud explosion right to your left followed.

Natasha was torn.

Tony's words kept replaying themselves on her head as she paced around the room, unable to decide between telling Bucky and keeping it to herself. She didn't know what she would be risking if she told him, but at the same time, you could get yourself in a much bigger situation and a supporting pair of eyes at solo missions were always required.

She couldn't bear the worry and uncertainty anymore.

Pushing the back door that led to the living room open with a loud thud, she found Bucky by the kitchen area, and Sam by the couch, watching the afternoon news. "I need to tell you guys something."

Bucky perked up at that, pulling himself away from his moping state to get back up on his feet, and walk towards the couch where Natasha approached. "She disabled her own tracker. Tony has no idea where she is, or what she's doing."

"Shit, how are we supposed to find her, then?" Sam slowly got up from where he was seated in worry. But before any of them could say anything else, a loud explosion sound snatched their attention and brought it to the screen.

"Earlier this morning, a lab explosion took place in a Hong Kong biochemistry lab, for reasons unknown. Public CCTV footage shows two unidentified individuals breaking into the building only ten minutes before the blast."

"Isn't that-"

"Damn it," Natasha whispered. "God fucking damn it, Barton."

No matter how fast the Quinjet was, Bucky felt like they couldn't get there quick enough. His heart was basically beating through his ribs, brain pumping adrenaline into every single bit of his veins as he watched the jet decrease altitude. The news didn't even provide the number of casualties, and the fact that he wasn't sure if you made it out of there alive or not was eating him alive.

The fact that he didn't get to make things right with you beforehand was outright torture.

The jet landed on a clearing by the woods, pretty close to the remote building in which the explosion took place. Bucky's strut seemed like it was made out of steel, as if nothing in this world could even attempt to stop him as he walked in front, Natasha and Sam following close behind. It had been at least twenty hours since the blast, and if you were dead, you'd be identified, right?

The news of your passing would be all over the world by now, right?

"I know where they might be hiding," Natasha spoke up, a bit breathless from having to catch up with Bucky's fast steps. "Clint has a hideout apartment, not too far from here."

"Fuck!" your loud cry was enough to land a grimace on Clint's face, as he let out soft shushes, trying his best to wrap your injuries up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he mumbled, taping down the bandage wrapped around your thigh before giving it a slight pat. "Just a contusion. I know it hurts but you could have it much worse."

"I know, but it still hurts, you idiot!"

"And whose fault is that? Not mine!"

Letting your head fall back on the cushion with a thud, you let out a slight groan. "How's the agent?"

"Called somebody to pick him up," he sighed, pulling himself up from the floor to sit next to your laid out figure. "I genuinely didn't know that they had explosives laid out through the building. Some sort of eradication. Must've been big, whatever they were hiding."

"Couldn't really keep it quiet, huh?"

"Unfortunately," he chuckled. "But we saved him, at least. Probably going to get an earful from Tony when he finds out… But you did a good job. Thanks for coming."

"Didn't have anything better to do," a grin made its way to your lips. "Don't even wanna go back, if I'm being honest."

A frown took over his features. "Did something happen?" and he continued, when your only response was a slight nod. "Bucky?"

"That easy to guess, huh?"

"Nothing else has an impact on you," a soft chuckle followed. "It'll be fine. You two- you shouldn't lose each other. Not over anything."

"I don't know if I can make sure of that anymore, Clint."

"Look, I'm saying this from a man's point of view," he repositioned himself on where he was seated, now completely facing you. "And I don't ever want you to think that I'm sexist or something, but, um… We're different. In a bad way- we're not… Complicated like your kind."

"My kind? Okay, now that's-"

"No, shut up, you know what I mean," he laughed. "Every single woman that I had the pleasure of meeting knew what they wanted. Maybe it was a bit rough around the edges, maybe it was just a scaffolding but there was a plan. There was an… expectation of how things are supposed to go, you know?"

A short silence followed. "And because of that scaffolding, you folks don't freak out as much as we do. And when you do, you still make sense. We don't. We freak out over the smallest inconvenience and everything goes shit because we don't know how to restructure our own plans that quickly. We take longer to adapt. Because we're a bit more primitive, does that make sense?"

You smiled at him, earnestly. "That's… vague, but it makes perfect sense. Thanks."

His hand found yours then, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry about it."

That night, Clint woke up to footsteps across the apartment. He was sleeping on the armchair by the side of the bedroom, making sure that you were safe on his bed since you had to take a pill or two to manage the pain and fall asleep quicker.

Quickly getting up to his feet, he grabbed the pistol he placed on your nightstand earlier, slowly pulling the door open- only to find Natasha, with a gun in her hand, seemingly relieved to see Clint.

Clint brought his finger up to his lips, signaling the room as to let her know that you were asleep. "What are you doing here?" he whispered.

"That was a sloppy op, don't you think?" Natasha whispered back, teasing. "Gotta warn you, Barnes will be here in a couple of minutes and he's going to be mad, Clint."

"Let him be," he sighed. "She's-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the front door got pushed open, revealing a worried and seething Bucky and an apologetic Sam following suit, shutting the door slowly after the other. "Where is she?"

"She's in the bedroom-" Clint stepped in front of the door, shutting and guarding it. "She's exhausted. Be quiet."

"Why the fuck is she with you?"

"Hey, not like I kidnapped her, alright?" Clint rolled his eyes, still speaking as quietly as he could. "I needed her help and I couldn't call anybody else. I'm sorry I kept your girlfriend away from you for literally two days, Barnes."

Bucky took a step back, heaving a deep sigh. He was angry, angry at you, angry at Clint, angry at himself… Yet he didn't know where to direct that anger. He didn't know how to calm this feeling down. "Why didn't she tell anybody? Not even Tony- what the hell did you make her do that she felt like she needed to hide from everyone?"

A scoff left Natasha. "Bucky, stop making assumptions."

"No- you know what?" Bucky was getting louder by the second, and nobody in the room had the guts to shush him down. "My girl doesn't hide anything from me, ever. I need to know what was so important that she had to turn her tracker off and you had to lead her into a building full of explosives."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that the lab would explode?!"

"You were supposed to make sure that it's-"

"Bucky?" your frowning, sleepy figure appeared by the door that everyone was too busy watching the argument to notice opening. Bucky's gaze visibly softened when he saw you, tense shoulders relaxing before Clint stepped out of the way and with a few steps, he approached you to pull you into his embrace.

You didn't hug him back at first- instead sending a confused look to the rest, to which Sam shrugged as a response. "Are you okay?"

"No, are you okay?" he asked, pulling away to get a good look at your figure. A few cuts and the bandage by your thigh was visible as you were just wearing one of Clint's old shirts and underwear. "Are you okay?" he asked again, tone more stern this time.

"I'm fine," you pushed his hands off of you. "Why the fuck were you yelling at Clint?"

"Yeah, alright, have that conversation without us," Clint sighed, pushing the two of you into the bedroom gently before offering you a small wave and shutting the door, to give you some privacy.

Bucky sighed before looking at you again, wanting so bad to just cup your cheeks and leave kisses all over your face- but he knew he fucked up, and you were mad. "I was worried about you. You left without a word, and when I heard that your tracker was off-"

"I don't owe anyone any explanation." your tone was harsh. "And I'm sorry if I thought that you wouldn't give a shit, Bucky. You made it pretty obvious that you wanted me to leave you alone."

"I never said that," he ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to stay calm and work this out- but you were almost as stubborn as him, if not more. "I never- I care about you, alright? You're my girlfriend, and you should've told me where you were going."

You shook your head to both sides in disbelief. "You're not entitled to that."

"Y/N-"

"No, you're seriously not entitled to knowing anything about me. Not when you have the audacity to treat me like I'm nothing more than an absolute stranger, and then to not even make an effort to talk to me for a whole week."

"I freaked out, alright?!" he sighed. "I was fucking terrified because- because of you!"

"How the hell is that my fault?!"

"It's your fault! You're the one who made me fall in love with you!" he was loud, and you got cryptically quiet.

He never dropped the L-word before.

"It's your fucking fault because I can't stop thinking about you, I can't stop worrying about you, I can't stop making everything about you and it's putting everyone in danger!" you were biting back a smile now, as he kept ranting. "Including you! I can't- do you have any idea how hard it is to look at you and not just burst into tears because oh my fucking God, you're the love of my life and-"

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, your hands cupping his face. He was shocked at first, unable to comprehend the sudden switch from arguing to kissing, but he wasn't going to complain. Wrapping his arms around your body delicately, he deepened the kiss, exhaling softly against your mouth when your fingers massaged the nape of his neck.

"You're such a fucking idiot," you whispered against his lips. "You're like, the dumbest person I've ever met. Your IQ is so low that-"

"Okay, okay. I get it." he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry. I genuinely am. I'm sorry for making you feel like I don't love you- because I do, I love you so much that it's physically painful."

"I thought you were tougher than that, Bucky."

"I'm just a coward, honey." with a shrug, he pulled you closer to his embrace. "I'm just a fucking coward, nothing more. But you know what? Seeing you so angry at me, telling me that I don't deserve to know anything about you- that hurt more. I guess I- I really can't be without you."

"I can't be without you either," you sighed. "I've been so cranky, just ask Clint."

"Oh, I'm still kicking his ass."

"No, Buck," a soft giggle left your lips. "He actually plays a grand part in me forgiving you. And he's one of my favorite people in this whole world, so, I won't hesitate to punch you if you ever yell at him again."

"In that case, I'm thanking him. And kicking his ass in my head."

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