#bucky x you
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He Hates Me, Doesn't He?
A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.
Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.
Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader
Words: 6.7k++
Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.
Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.
She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection.
And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.
Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.
Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.
y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm.
The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.
Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.
She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.
"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."
Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"
Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."
y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that?
Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.
She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.
All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.
Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow.
"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."
y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.
Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll"
The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.
And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.
y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."
Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."
y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.
She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.
At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her.
"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.."
Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.
Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"
Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.
Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"
"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.
She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.
"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."
y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"
But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words.
y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.
Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."
The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."
Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.
A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.
Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.
Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend?
The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.
As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.
On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.
As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.
"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike."
Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.
Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.
She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.
Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.
"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.
She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.
Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.
Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."
Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.
Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.
As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."
Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.
The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.
Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.
She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.
As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.
As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.
And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.
Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.
Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.
But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.
He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."
With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?
y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.
The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.
In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.
As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.
Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.
The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.
Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.
"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.
But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.
Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.
It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.
But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.
"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."
y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."
Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."
Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.
y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it. Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes.
In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.
Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."
y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.
"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."
But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.
"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."
y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.
With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."
As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.
"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.
In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.
Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.
Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.
Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.
The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.
"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."
"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—"
Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.
"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed.
He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."
Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."
She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."
With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.
"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."
In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.
Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.
But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.
His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."
Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."
But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."
Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.
"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."
But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.
For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.
The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.
"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.
Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.
For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.
"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"
Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"
Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.
She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.
Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."
Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.
Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.
With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.
The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."
Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky. "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍
#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#tfatws!bucky#bucky angst#bucky fluff
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as long as we're together (does it matter where we go?)
Summary: You don't want to be a burden to Bucky, knowing he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Pairing: Bucky x Female!OC
Genre: Angst
Length: 7.8k
Two years ago
“I don’t think I want to be with you anymore.”
Bucky had expected it. Weeks of you being distant, making secret phone calls, avoiding his touches like they physically hurt you. Countless times Bucky had asked, what's wrong?, only for you to shut him down and say that everything was fine. Bucky was sick of hearing that empty, meaningless mantra, but it didn’t mean that he reveled in your confession now.
Even though it didn't come as a surprise, it still felt like a punch to the gut. It physically winded him to hear those words leave your lips.
He wondered what he did wrong. He wondered where they went wrong. They were so in love, so wonderfully content in each other's company. You were his person. Steve had once told Bucky that he would find someone unexpectedly, when Bucky made an off-hand comment about how lucky he was to have met Peggy.
“You’ll find your Peggy.”
Things had been perfect. Or maybe Bucky had just been in denial, ignoring all the problems between you because he thought that his feelings for you triumphed over everything, no matter what hardships you may have been suffering from. How could he ever face the reality that you might actually leave in pursuit of something better?
Now, Bucky’s chest was tight with an indescribable feeling, both of you stood in your shared apartment. Your belongings stuffed into a black suitcase, Bucky’s heart in pieces on the hardwood floor.
He had expected it, but it didn't stop him from wanting to die.
"Why?" It was all he could ask. He wanted to know the reason, wanted to understand. Wanted to know if he could fix it. He was desperate to make you stay.
Bucky stared at your face. You looked so...indifferent. Unattached, in contrast to the woman he had met all those years ago. Where had the softness in your eyes gone? Why couldn’t you meet his pleading gaze, even now? At what point did your feelings for him start to fade, and was there anything he could have done to salvage it?
Your face was a blank slate, emotionless, and it made Bucky feel a truly troubling combination of sadness and anger. It was as if you had already said your goodbyes to their relationship, completely ready to move on whilst Bucky was still trying to process your words. You were ready to leave him behind to mourn.
“I don’t think we’re right for each other,” you had said quietly. “I don’t think we can give each other what we need.”
"Bullshit," Bucky said, his voice cracking. You grimaced ever so slightly at his tone, still unable to meet his eyes. "How can you say that?"
He took a step forward; you matched it with a retreating step, but with wide strides he seized your wrists. He silently willed you to say something which could somehow lessen the excruciating pain.
“Will you just look at me?”
He wanted so badly for you to meet his stare, to find some source of comfort within your eyes which usually held so much love for him.
Finally, you relented and lifted your head. They did not fill Bucky with any hope. You pressed your lips together firmly as he searched your face desperately for any sign of residual affection.
"We - we're in love. How can you say after all these years that we're not right for each other? For fuck's sake, will you just tell me what happened?"
"People change, Bucky," you said softly. The look on your face - was it sadness, or apathy? "We've become too distant."
"And whose fault is that?" Bucky released you then. He was so angry, wanting to elicit some sort of reaction from you, that he wanted to punch the wall beside them. It made him feel nauseous at how stoic you were now, like a piece of unyielding rock. He knew you hated it when he took his anger out physically. You had been the one to teach him how to manage his rage more constructively, to talk things out and use his words rather than his fists.
"Are you trying to say it's mine?" Your tone was sharp, finally demonstrating some emotion. "Are you saying that all those nights waiting for you to come back home, all those evenings alone whilst you stayed at the Tower, all those hours I spent staring at the four walls of this apartment were my fault?"
"You left me!" Bucky retorted, gritting his teeth. "You left me long before today! You think I haven't noticed? You can barely stand touching me. You're always on your phone, always texting, always out seeing your 'friends'," he said, making air quotes. "I asked Wanda, she said you haven't been meeting her or your other friends for weeks. Who's this 'friend’? Who the fuck is it that's so important that you can't spare any time for me, never mind your actual friends?"
A long, pregnant pause filled the air, an indecipherable mask on your face once more. Bucky’s eyes were wet, and if he hadn't been so angry, he would've seen the way your lower lip was trembling ever so slightly, the way it did whenever you were trying not to cry. It had been the biggest telltale sign for him over the years to know when you were upset and trying your best to hide it.
He was usually so good at reading you, but he was blinded with sadness.
"Fine," you said eventually, slicing the silence with a shaky exhale. "I'm seeing someone else."
You might as well have struck Bucky across the face.
Suspecting it and hearing the words fall from your lips were two different things. He physically reeled back in anguish as he stared at you. He took in the sight of his girlfriend in front of him, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. This was, without a doubt, the woman he had met five years ago. The woman he spent five years loving. The woman whom he recognized no longer.
"Why?" Bucky whispered, all the fight leaving his body. He physically seemed to sag, forehead creasing at all the other questions running through his mind, visions of you being touched and fucked by some faceless, nameless man.
You were almost pitiful in the way you looked at Bucky, and he hated it.
"I care for you, Bucky. But I’m not in love with you anymore. And I'm sorry I had to do this to you. Things just got out of control."
I’m not in love with you anymore.
You offered no further information, but he had stopped listening, anyway. The finality in your voice pierced him slowly, tortuously, through the heart. He barely moved when you took your suitcase and pulled it out behind you, out of their apartment. Out of his life.
The door slammed shut.
Present day
You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Mercedes Knight & Samuel Wilson
Sam had become Bucky’s closest confidant in the past few years, and the latter had been a close witness as Sam met Mercedes ‘Misty’ Knight, a former NYPD officer who had somehow become roped into their crazy world. It was no surprise to Bucky when they announced their engagement just six months into dating.
Bucky found himself being pulled into their wedding planning discussions far too often. He tried to keep an amused smile at bay whilst listening into Misty and Sam’s wedding talk at the Tower. They were using one of the many conference rooms - a Knight-Wilson union was official business, Misty insisted.
"Are you bringing a date?" Misty asked suddenly in the middle of everything, the question directed at Bucky.
"Of course he's bringing a date," Sam smirked. "Heard things with Sharon are going well, right?"
Bucky smiled non-committedly, shrugging. "She's great." It didn’t go unnoticed by Sam that this didn’t quite answer his question.
"You two look good together," Misty offered. She glanced at her watch and widened her eyes theatrically, grabbing Sam’s hand. "Oh crap, we need to go meet with the wedding planner."
"But it feels like we just sat down," Sam complained.
"There's no rest for the bride and groom, Sam," Misty said, pulling her fiancé out of his seat as she waved goodbye at Bucky.
As soon as they departed, the smile on Bucky’s face dimmed. He was beyond happy for his two friends, he really was - but every couple he knew was a fresh reminder of his own failed love life.
Ever since you, he hadn't been in a long term relationship. Sharon is different, he told himself, and she was. They had been friends for a long time, and of course spent a lot of time together carrying out missions and the like. Over time, somehow, they had gotten closer, and one day Sharon had just asked him, “So when are you going to ask me out, Barnes?”
At that point, Bucky was still frequently thinking about you. Sharon had never met you before, but Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if she had heard stories about you from the others, since he had been notoriously affected by the breakup. Even though he was dealing with the aftershocks of the broken relationship, he was forcing himself to get past it.
They had been dating for two months now, and it only seemed right for Sharon to be his date at the wedding.
He had moved on. He was no longer the depressed, dark wreck he was when you left.
Sometimes it’s better to lie to yourself than to face the reality.
“You invited Bucky’s ex to the wedding?” Misty asked curiously.
“Uh, yeah. She’s not just his ex,” Sam explained gently. “She’s my friend too, and I haven’t seen her since she left town.”
"You told Bucky?"
"Nope," Sam snorted, shaking his head. "I can't. I don't think he'd turn up if I did. I want them both there on the day - I'm sure they can be civil for one night."
“I wonder how Bucky will react," his future wife pondered.
Sam shrugged. Not well, probably.
"What else can I do? I can’t not invite her, I really want her to be there. You never met her, so you don’t know, but she’s been through some shit.”
“I know, I know, you told me,” Misty said. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. Do you think she'll be okay seeing Bucky again? Especially if he'll be there with Sharon?"
"She said she can handle it. She would be happy to see that Bucky was happy. She was the one who practically begged me to encourage him to move on."
“Do you think he has?”
Sam paused, considering the question carefully.
“He has to.”
Several weeks later, Misty Knight and Sam Wilson were officially wed at the local registration office. The day was full of hugs, cacophonous laughter, friends and family, and Bucky watched with a wide beam on his face as he witnessed his friends glow. Those kinds of smiles were few and far between nowadays, but he was truly happy for once.
"They look so good together," Sharon murmured as hundreds of guests filled the hotel ballroom, the party commencing in full swing. The newlyweds were in the center of the room, Misty being twirled around wildly by a laughing Sam before his wife collapsed against his chest in fits of giggles, looking up into his eyes adoringly.
More and more people joined them on the dance floor after the conclusion of their official first dance.
"Barnes, would you like to dance?" Sharon asked suddenly with a smile, extending a hand.
Bucky chuckled, allowing her to take his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.
An hour passed, and Bucky had to truthfully say that he was enjoying himself, assisted by all the alcohol he had consumed. Sharon was draped all over him as they swayed to the music, and Bucky found himself appreciating the feel of her body against his all too much, the scent of her intoxicating. His hands felt the fabric of her silky, emerald green dress, buried his nose into Sharon's blonde hair, sighing softly as he tightened his grip on her waist.
Her perfume was strong and woodsy, like a forest. It irritated his nose ever so slightly. You had preferred a more subtle, floral perfume, one that smelt like sakura blossoms.
Sharon was more confident and seductive in the way she danced, whilst you used to always let yourself become putty in his arms, enjoying how he took the lead and managed to make you look like you knew how to dance despite your two left feet.
However, despite the differences, if Bucky closed his eyes and just tried a little harder, he think he could pretend that -
"Sorry to interrupt.”
Bucky pulled away from Sharon suddenly, and he turned to mock glare at Sam. "What do you want, Wilson?"
"Need to borrow you for a minute," Sam said, an undecipherable expression on his face. Bucky tried to see where Misty had disappeared off to, but saw no trace.
"Um, sure..." Bucky tried to read Sam’s face but gleaned nothing.
"I'll just go say hi to Natasha," Sharon said, giving Bucky’s forearm a squeeze before she disappeared.
Sam’s smile faded, and he caught Bucky’s arm in a vice grip. "I need to tell you something. Don't get mad, okay?"
"What?" Bucky scowled as Sam dragged him to the side of the room, weaving through the crowds of guests. "What good news starts with, ‘don’t get mad’? Are you gonna tell me you want to run out on Misty or something?" He joked.
Sam pulled him out through one of the open French doors which led to a pretty, outdoor stone balcony. He shut them behind him as Bucky continued to babble, a little tipsy from the champagne he'd had. "I gotta tell ya, if she asks me to kick your ass I will literally do so -”
"Bucky," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "She’s here." Meeting Bucky’s nonplussed eyes, your name rolled off Sam’s tongue in clarification.
He felt like the breath was sucked from his lungs as he stared back at Sam, who looked uncharacteristically anxious.
“What?" He asked hoarsely, instantly sobering up. “What do you mean?”
Chills were running through his body. The name he had avoided for years was suddenly causing him to feel breathless. How did you still have such an affect on him?
"She couldn't make it to the ceremony earlier today, but she just arrived."
"You - you invited her here? She’s here, now?"
"Yes," Sam replied, nodding. "I invited her.” He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest almost defiantly.
Bucky was speechless for a moment, taking a step back and scoffing. He shook his head. “Do you remember what she did to me?”
“I'm sorry, Buck..."
Bucky suddenly laughed, startling Sam. His laugh was curt, humorless. "What are you sorry for? I'm over her, Sam. It was two years ago. I haven't seen her in two years. I don't care anymore," he said quickly. Too quickly.
"Listen -"
"Look, it's okay." Bucky raised his hands in small surrender. “You have the right to invite whoever you want. I’m not mad. But I just don’t want to be held accountable for whatever happens now.”
He turned and wrenched the French doors open with such force that the handle buckled slightly. The noise inside the ballroom spilled out to replace the painful silence on the balcony.
He disappeared inside before Sam could say anything else, and he tried to hide it, but Sam could clearly see that his hands were shaking as he marched inside.
For the next twenty minutes, Bucky found sanctuary in the restrooms. He stood inside the stall, trying to stop himself from mentally collapsing.
He didn’t know what was happening. He had never felt this overwhelming panic rush over him before, immobilizing him. Anger, sadness and yearning swirling inside a melting pot of emotions that was crippling him.
She was here. The woman he hadn't seen in two years, the woman who broke his heart, the woman who betrayed him, the woman who left him in tatters.
Your infidelity had had an unforeseen impact on him. When he first found out, he was devastated. Terrified of how you became someone he didn’t recognize - or had you always been someone capable of betraying him, just good at hiding it?
You had poisoned all the happy memories they had once shared. Bucky found himself recounting all the years you were together, micro-analyzing everything, wondering if there was a hidden lie behind it all.
That was one of the things which made him angriest. You turned all the beautiful years of your relationship into a lie. None of it was real, Bucky had told himself.
You crushed him.
Of his feelings, anger prevailed, slowly simmering to the surface, like a volcano about to erupt. How dare you walk back into his life like this? He would show you, Bucky thought with determination. He was over you. He had no reason to be angry, he thought bitterly, because you were nothing to him.
Just like Bucky was nothing to you.
When he emerged from the toilets, the first thing he did was find Sharon. She looked relieved to see him, although confusion was clear on her face as she eyed Bucky.
"Where have you been? Are you feeling okay?" She commented, brow furrowed with concern.
"I'm fine," Bucky assured her. "Have you seen Sam?"
Sharon pointed, puzzlement still painted across her face, and Bucky snapped round quickly.
And there you were.
It was as if you had never left. As if the past two years filled with Bucky trying to eradicate every memory and feeling he had for you had never happened, because as soon as Bucky’s eyes found you through the crowd, everything came collapsing back down on top of him like an avalanche. Suffocating.
You were still so beautiful, strikingly so. Like a burning beacon among the crowd, Bucky’s eyes found your face as easily as anything. For a second, he allowed himself to ignore anything except you, and how the sight of you still managed to take his breath away.
You looked thinner than he remembered, your face gaunt. Bucky frowned slightly at this acute observation and found himself wondering if you had been taking care of yourself.
"Barnes? You okay?"
Bucky registered Sharon shaking his arm, but his eyes remained fastened on yourself and Sam. Neither of you had spotted Bucky yet, who was rooted to the spot like a statue. Sam’s mouth was moving, words that Bucky couldn't hear escaping his mouth, but his expression was angry. Almost as if he was scolding you for something.
"I have to...I..." Bucky stumbled over his words, voice faint. He could feel those tendrils of anger slowly seizing him again, wisps at first, until they grew more and more potent by the second. He remembered every single thing he felt when you left him, and instead of trying to hold back the emotions, Bucky just saw red.
"Let me introduce you to someone," he said suddenly, his voice strained as he took Sharon's hand.
"You said you were better," Sam said, expression torn.
"I am," you lied, trying to put on a smile. Truth was, you were exhausted, just like how you always felt. The ballroom was so crowded and loud, and you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep, which you would the moment you finished congratulating Sam and Misty. And perhaps, even though you didn't want to admit it, you wanted to catch a glimpse of Bucky, too.
"Look at you, you're -"
“Sam, please don’t,” you interrupted gently. “Just drop it, please? It’s your big day, I don’t want you to worry about anything else.”
Sam opened his mouth to talk, but stopped suddenly, his eyes flitting to look behind you.
"Hey."
You froze. You knew that voice, of course. Heard it enough times, the deep, gravelly voice that had once whispered sweet pet names, proclamations of love, and plagued your dreams ever since you left him.
You had longed to hear his voice again, hear your name being spoken lovingly. His voice was your favorite sound in the world. Except tonight, hearing it for the first time in two years, you heard nothing but ice.
"Bucky?" You turned slowly, and your breath hitched. He was just the way you remembered him. Even more handsome, if possible. Clad in a sleek black tux, tall and dark and sexy, everything you had missed and dreamed of, and...
He was holding another woman’s hand.
"Bucky," Sam repeated, voice tense. Bucky could hear the underlying warning.
"It's been a while," he said stiffly, acting as neutral as he could. As if he hadn't spent months after their terrible break up being a shell of who he used to be, barely repaired even now. Bucky felt like any other venomous words from your mouth would shatter him again, but he had to take the chance. He had to talk to you, show you that he had moved on. He didn't care about you anymore, or how you so ruthlessly left him.
"Yes," you said weakly, smiling softly. God, he still thought that you looked beautiful, clad in a periwinkle blue dress, a thick coat draped around your shoulders. You were shivering, and Bucky resisted the urge to ask you what was wrong. Now that he was closer, he could see that didn’t look well at all. You had dark circles under your eyes and your collarbones were too prominent, your gaze devoid of any livelihood.
You glanced at Bucky’s fingers interlaced with a gorgeous blonde. You had seen her on the news before, you were pretty certain. Your smile forcibly stretched wider, blinking a few times, not knowing what to do with yourself.
"This is Sharon," Sam said, clearing his throat and exchanging introductions.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Sharon said politely. She was gorgeous, you thought, watching as she sent Bucky a subtle, questioning glance.
Bucky was still staring at you, unmoving. You took the initiative first.
“Bucky, can we talk for a second?"
You could see the way he was trying to control himself by the way his lips stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He gave a curt nod. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Sharon and the other hundreds of wedding guests.
“Let’s leave these two to catch up,” Sam said lightly, trying to hide his discomfort as he led Sharon away.
"So now you want to talk?" Bucky asked as soon as they were out of earshot, his voice sharp. You cringed, almost folding into yourself at Bucky’s hard stare.
"Yes," was all you managed to whisper, eyes darting to the ground to avoid meeting his glare. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”
You turned and walked towards the exit of the ballroom, turning back to look at Bucky. He followed after a second, his jaw set like stone as you led the way to the empty lobby outside, away from the noise.
"It's been a while, Buck.” You voice was sad as you turned to face him again.
"Yes," he said, fighting an internal battle. He was so torn. Seeing you again made him want to wrap you up in his arms like he would've done two years ago, when you were still together. And feeling like that made Bucky angry. What right did you have to make him feel this way? Who gave you the right to mess with Bucky’s heart again after so long?
"How have you been?" You asked eventually after a painfully awkward silence.
He scoffed at that. "How have I been?" He repeated incredulously. He doubted you really wanted to hear about all those nights he spent in his apartment, refusing to talk to his friends, being a complete social introvert (more than he usually was) because he felt like he just couldn't live anymore. Not without you.
"Great. Fantastic," he said without a shred of sincerity.
You stared at him for the longest time, your lips pressed into a thin line. You looked so regretful that it made Bucky feel uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry," you said eventually, your voice wavering like you were struggling to breathe properly. "I'm so sorry for leaving you like that. We...we could have ended things better. You didn't deserve how I treated you."
You flinched when Bucky scoffed derisively. He dropped any remaining restraints he had previously put in place, letting all his feelings run free.
"Are you kidding me? Why? Why are you coming back here and apologizing after all this time?" He felt like he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration as he stared at you, making sure to keep his distance lest he found himself wanting to pull you closer. God, it was all so confusing. He despised you, and yet seeing you here in the flesh was everything he had ever wanted in the last few years.
He hated how you were making him feel.
"Look, it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done," he spat through gritted teeth, all the while completely unaware of how your heart clenched painfully at Bucky’s scornful eyes. “Do you have any idea how unfair this is? You fucked up big time, disappeared off the face of the earth, then come back standing in front of me now asking how I am?”
“I know. You’re right, about everything. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry.”
“No. You have no right to do this,” Bucky seethed. “You have no right to come back here and try to - what, settle your guilt? Make amends?”
You didn’t say anything, choosing to let him vent instead.
“I still remember the way you left. What you did. I will never forgive you for that. So don’t you dare stand in front of me today with all this bullshit and expect me to have something nice to say.”
"You really hate me, don't you?" You asked then, taking Bucky off guard. You lifted your head properly to stare at him, and the look in your eyes was unsettling.
"I hate you," Bucky confirmed unwaveringly, his voice hard. "I hate what you did to me and by extension, you."
You didn't respond. You bit your lower lip hard, trying desperately not to cry in front of him. Your heart hurt so much.
It was the worst feeling in the world, maybe, seeing the man you loved so dearly tell you that he hated you. It was excruciating, the clenching inside your chest as Bucky’s words rang in your head.
"I know my apologies will never be enough. I just wanted to see if you're happy now," you whispered.
"I'm happy," Bucky replied almost immediately. "I'm happy with Sharon. Does that bother you? Did you hope that I'd still be pining after you? I'm not that pathetic anymore." The barriers were broken, and the hurtful words were falling from Bucky’s mouth, two years worth of it.
“I never said you were pathetic,” you retorted, slightly indignant. “I’m glad that you’re happy.”
Bucky was breathing hard, unconvinced by your words.
“And how's the man you left me for?"
"He...it didn't work out," you shrugged, trying to keep your face as straight as possible.
"Good," Bucky said harshly. "Because you don't deserve happiness." If he wasn't so mad, he wouldn't say such irrational things. But he just wanted you to hurt. He wanted you to feel all the pain you caused.
Bucky pretended he didn't hear you gasp. He pretended that he didn't see your eyes gloss over at the sheer amount of hate in his voice.
"Okay," you said finally, your voice clearly shaking. "Okay," you repeated again, nodding your head. Bucky watched you take a step back, away from him.
“I -”
“I'm sorry, Bucky. Please take care," you interrupted, smiling sadly before you turned and walked away as quickly as possible.
That was not how you envisioned the reunion to go. All you wanted was to apologize, know that he was happy, so that you could go in peace.
But maybe that was the consequence of your decision. Maybe he was just always going to hate you for the rest of his life and remember you as someone awful.
You didn’t know that all Bucky wanted to do was run after you. Tell you to stop. He wanted to apologize and tell you how he didn’t mean a word of what he just said.
Rage and pride kept him shackled, and he watched your retreating back, feeling like a coward.
The last thing Bucky expected when he opened his apartment door a few days later was Sam’s dirty glare.
"You can be a mean son of a bitch, do you know that?”
"Hello to you too,” Bucky retorted.
“Why did you say all that stuff to her?” Sam asked, pushing his way past Bucky.
Bucky closed the door, knowing exactly who he was referring to.
"Why is this any of your business?"
"You acted like a dick!" Sam said furiously.
“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done something like that on your special day. But-”
“I want you to feel sorry to her.”
"She left me,” Bucky exclaimed. "You were there, Sam, you saw how fucked up she made me. She cheated on me! You want me to apologize to her?” His face was incredulous.
“You’re so fucking frustrating.”
“Oh, excuse me for not being the bigger person,” Bucky sneered. “But you don’t know how she made me feel, Sam, so don’t you dare try to give me a fucking lecture now.”
Sam was quiet for the longest time, looking exasperated. He stared up at the ceiling, sighing.
“Bucky, look man. She never cheated on you,” Sam said finally, an apologetic look in his eyes.
The apartment became filled with nothing but the sounds of Bucky’s heavy breathing.
“What are you talking about?” He spat, realizing now that Sam knew something he didn’t.
Sam let out a resigned sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I promised her I wouldn’t tell you. But fuck it, man, cause I think this is messed up. She’s sick, Bucky," he said solemnly. "Like, really sick."
Two years ago
"It's cancer, Sam."
You physically couldn't cry anymore. You had done enough of that the day the doctor had told you, your eyes puffy and swollen. Funnily enough, the first person you had sought out wasn’t your boyfriend, but rather his best friend.
Bucky wasn’t even in town that weekend, and you really didn’t want to tell him over the phone. In fact, you never wanted to tell him. How do you tell the man you love that you're dying?
"You can get treatment, right?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. It’s not looking good. They're doing some sort of new clinical trial in England, but even that’s a long shot. I - I’m going to try, though.”
Sam sat up straighter. “And Bucky?”
"You can't tell him," you said firmly. You had thought about it all night, and you knew you couldn't let him know. You didn't want to put him through something like this. "My father had cancer too, Sam," you said softly. "He died in so much pain, he had so much treatment but it didn't help. He was throwing up all the time, having fevers, his body was so weak, and by the end he wasn’t the same anymore. I don't want him to see me like that."
“But-”
“No buts,” you said. You had given it enough thought already. You knew that you would have to be very, very lucky to make it through this - the end was essentially inevitable. There was no way you would make Bucky bear witness to you succumbing to this illness the same way you had to watch your father.
It was the worst time of your life. You had told Bucky about it in the past, as he had never had a chance to meet your father since he passed away years before you met Bucky. Knowing what you did, you would never inflict that same experience on him.
"So what are you going to do?"
"I have to leave him.” You had been preparing yourself for what you needed to do all night. "If I go, there's a chance I might not come back, you understand that, right?"
"Don't say things like that," Sam said forcefully, clenching your hand. "Just stop. Bucky will support you all the way, you know that!"
"That’s exactly why I have to go by myself. I can't be selfish, Sam. I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. I can’t make him drop everything to make me his number one priority. Looking after me will take time and constant care. If I go to England, he will abandon everything and come. Manhattan is his home.”
Sam looked anguished and you knew that he was disagreeing with everything you had just said, but you plowed on.
"It’s not just a matter of time and effort. If he stays, he will watch me die, and I don’t want him to do that.” You began to cry, and Sam hugged you, wishing he could say something comforting.
“It’s okay," you said through the tears, even though every fiber in your body was telling you the opposite. You had been repeating these words to yourself all night, as if you would believe it if you said it enough times. "It’ll be okay."
Maybe you were being stupid, but you didn't care. You knew Bucky loved you with his body and soul, as did you. But you weren’t going to let him suffer over your illness. You wouldn't let the person you cared most about in the world see you slowly deteriorate.
You had been witness to how your father was clearly in a depressive state, and yet tried his hardest to pretend to be happy and fine around other people. You didn’t know if you had the strength or bravery to even pretend.
You began distancing yourself. Stopped trying to make conversation with Bucky, until the long, endless, random talks you used to share diminished into curt sentences. You stopped waiting for Bucky to come home, simply pretending that you didn't care. You became more secretive, furtively hiding your calls with your doctor and your mother.
There was no other man. You loved him and only him, and had been nothing but faithful. You didn't know what hurt more: having to lie to Bucky or the fact that he so easily believed you would betray him like that.
In the end, you had really regretted fabricating a story of infidelity. You should have just gone your separate ways without making him think that you had been unfaithful. But at that time, you wanted to find a quick solution that would make Bucky voluntarily detach himself from you. It seemed like a wise decision, but you really, really wish you hadn’t let him believe that you didn’t love him. It was truly the worst feeling in the world.
It was all over in a few weeks. You packed your things and left, trying not to cry with every heavy step you took towards the door of your apartment. You knew you were making the best decision for them both, surely.
Time would heal Bucky, and he would be happy again one day.
It just couldn’t be with you.
Present day
"She just didn’t want to feel like a burden to you, man," Sam said, shaking his head. "Why did you have to say all those things to her at the wedding?"
Bucky could register nothing else after Sam finished explaining everything. He was in disbelief, though he knew that there was no way Sam would fabricate a story like that.
Now, he could only think of the way he had shouted at you. The way he told you how much he hated you. The way you had left.
"Where is she?" Bucky whispered.
"She’s leaving today," Sam said tersely. "She’s going back to England. She was real sick for a long time, and she recovered a few months ago, but the cancer came back.”
He slipped a hotel business card into Bucky’s hand. “This is the address she’s staying at," Sam said.
He grasped it like a lifeline, eyes unable to see Sam standing in front of him. His vision was completely filled with images of you.
"Go," Sam said forcefully. "Go and find her.”
The tears wouldn't stop falling.
You didn't know words could hurt so much. Sure, you had expected Bucky to hate you, but you weren’t prepared for the way every single word seemed to embed themselves into your skin like splinters into your heart.
They were once so happy. They were so perfect.
You hated yourself. Hated yourself for getting ill, for ruining what you had. The logic was irrational, but the self-hatred had become second nature.
You had spent the last few days holed up in your hotel. You had planned to use the time to see a few friends before returning to England, but you no longer had the heart.
You left your room that morning only because Wanda was furious that she missed you at the wedding, and you agreed to have coffee with her. She almost cried at the sight of you, but you put on a brave face, refusing to talk about Bucky. You begged her if you could just talk about happy topics and she eventually obliged, smiling sadly when you hugged each other goodbye.
“I’ll see you again, dear,” Wanda had said, and you hoped to God she was right.
As soon as you got inside your hotel room, you felt a switch click internally.
Everything hurt. You were tired, unhappy and you really didn’t know if you would ever make it out of this emotional blackhole. You felt so weak, like you would keel over at any given moment.
Cancer really was a bitch.
You kicked off your shoes and entered the bathroom. You lay down in the bathtub, fully clothed, turning the cold water on until you were almost completely submerged, wanting to numb all the pain inside your body and mind.
You eyes were red and swollen, and you couldn't remember crying so much since that day the doctor diagnosed you. Why was life so unfair? You wanted your old life back again. The life where Bucky didn't detest you, the one where he was happily and wonderfully in love with you.
You lay back, letting the water cover you completely. You closed your eyes, your hair gently swirling around your face. You opened your mouth and screamed, bubbles erupting to the surface.
Eventually you emerged, gasping and coughing, your tears hot in contrast to your frozen face. Your body wracked with sobs, shaking uncontrollably.
You sank back down into the water, your mouth opening once more to scream in uncontrollable rage. It was cathartic, your fists clenched into balls as you willed the feelings inside you to just - disappear.
When you opened your eyes beneath the water, you nearly gasped at the sight of a blurry, warped figure above you. You didn't have time to do anything when arms were suddenly encasing themselves around you, lifting you to the surface.
You spluttered and coughed, your ears assaulted by the voice that once whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
"- the fuck are you doing? Are you okay?"
Bucky.
You blinked past the water in your eyes, bewildered at the sight of him, kneeling beside the bathtub with his hands gripping your shoulders. His bright blue eyes were scared, wide open with concern.
You were startled at his sudden appearance, unable to say anything as he scooped you out, lifting you with ease. You were clearly in shock and scared.
You collapsed against him as he sat down on the bathroom floor with you in his arms.
"What were you doing?” Bucky was appalled as he pulled you close to him, watching how you continued to weep, blinking blearily at him. Your body was ice cold, every inch of you soaked.
He whipped a towel down from the railing beside you, wrapping it around your body as you shivered uncontrollably.
"Bu - Bucky?" You asked, as if you couldn't fathom why he was here. You were almost convinced you were hallucinating.
"Fuck, we need to get you out of these clothes," Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he tried not to cry. He had so much to say to you. He wanted you to know how sorry he was, how he didn't mean anything he said, but now wasn’t the time. He had to be strong for you.
You felt like a baby as Bucky removed your soaking wet garments until you were naked, then immediately swaddled you with more towels. He picked you up completely off the floor and took you out of the bathroom.
He chose to place you down on the edge of the bed, positioning himself to kneel down in front of you.
"Bucky," you whispered, voice thick, trying to pull away from him. “I think you should just leave me alone."
He stiffened. It scared him to hear you talk like this, to see you look at Bucky with such defeat in your eyes.
“No,” he said resolutely. “I'm here now, okay? I'm here, I'm not leaving, and I need you to be with me. I need you here, talking to me.”
"I can't. I can't do this anymore. Just go, please."
Bucky looked at you then. Really looked at you. The woman he loved and misunderstood for so long was now a trembling wreck in front of him, skin paper thin and trembling like a leaf. You looked so vulnerable and sad, and it made his heart twist.
Bucky suddenly held you tight against his chest, tucking his nose against the crook of your neck, and you didn't resist.
"Do you have any idea how much I hate myself? I hate myself for letting you go through this alone. I hate myself for telling you all those lies that night. I love you, I love you, I love you," Bucky said, wishing that you would see it.
“Don’t.”
“I wish you had told me. I would have helped you. You should have told me. I can’t believe you -”
You realized now that Sam must've told him the truth, and you sighed softly.
"I'm not good for you, Bucky," you whispered. "I will only ever hurt you, put you through more pain."
"I know everything now," Bucky said firmly. "No matter what happens, I will gladly endure it as long as it means we're no longer apart."
“Don’t be so stupid,” you said, anger tearing through your voice, though the tears were still falling. “I’m broken, Buck. I can’t give you a future. Please just find someone else - stay with Sharon.”
“Sharon?” If you hadn’t mentioned her name, Bucky would never have even thought about her. “No - we’re not serious, doll. She was never going to be the one.”
“No,” you insisted. “If not her, then fine, find someone else. Just not me.”
“Why aren’t you listening?” Bucky asked furiously. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please don’t do this. I need you." He was desperate to make you see, to make you understand. It was you or nothing. "You don’t know how awful the past few years have been. I don’t want to be apart from you, please.” He was prepared to grovel at your feet and beg.
He hated himself for how easily he gave up two years ago. This time, he was not letting you leave him.
His beautiful blue eyes pleaded with you, and you felt your barricades crumble. Your arms finally moved to wrap around him, and he felt a wave of relief as he encircled you in his arms. You had missed this, the feeling of Bucky holding you so tenderly.
You didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but you wanted to give in so badly and just let yourself be selfish and enjoy what time you could have together. And now that Bucky had you back by his side, he was definitely not going to let you go.
Even if they were in pieces, at least they were together. And Bucky was positive that they could put those pieces back into a whole, as long as you gave it a chance.
"You're so stupid," you said through your tears.
"I don't think so," Bucky said, managing the smallest smile. "Just stupidly in love with you."
You wanted to stay like this forever, entangled in each others arms. He pulled back slowly to study your face, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your lips. He kissed you again, deeper this time, breathing you in.
“You owe me two years of kisses,” he mumbled.
You laughed softly, but it soon died. First, you had a lot of talking to do. You used the following hour to tell him the details about your illness, why you had left, how sorry you were for treating Bucky the way you did when you broke up with him.
"You're so dumb," Bucky had said, sounding furious for a moment. "You had no right to decide something like that for me. You know I would support you.”
"I know, Buck," you had interrupted. "That's exactly why I had to leave. I didn't want you to see me die, okay?"
You had looked like you were about to cry again, so Bucky stopped scolding you immediately. He would never make you cry again, he swore.
"You're here now," he said, kissing your temple. "We're together now. Everything feels...right again."
You swallowed, biting your lip. "I told you, my cancer is back and -"
"You'll get better again," he said, refusing to look at you. You knew that tears were in his eyes. "You'll get better, okay?" His voice wavered slightly.
"It's worse this time, Bucky," you said. "Look at me. I'm practically withering away."
"You'll get better," he said, clenching his teeth.
You didn't say anything, just nestled against Bucky’s chest, relishing the way he wrapped his arms securely around your frame as if you would disappear at any moment.
Maybe he was right. Maybe by some miracle, with Bucky by your side, you would be able to give him all the time in the world.
"I'll try to stick around," you whispered.
#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes#bucky angst#sebastian stan#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barns imagine#bucky barns x you#bucky
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Complaining by Bucky | Bucky Barnes
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Bucky and you like to spend time together even when you’re just cuddling and reading. Also when he gets grumpy because of the book.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.114
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (G) mention of smut but just a bit, fluff
𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> For the Fandom Bingo challenge, could someone request an oneshot, also with a character that you wrote for another oneshot? If so, could you write an oneshot using O2 with Bucky Barnes and the reader reading in their bed cuddled up, while updating the other on what just happened in their book? Thank you so much! Sincerely, Flame. @marvelflame2010
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request and yes I’m taking also requests for Bingo squares. This is a cute idea and I hope you like what I made with it. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics.
𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ->
Fandom-Bingo | O2 | Sharing a quiet moment | @fandombingo
Fandom-Free Bingo: Valentine Edition | Alternates One | Triggers | @fandom-free-bingo
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
It’s quiet, but not uncomfortable. The warmth of his body is warming yours, his one hand sliding up and down your thigh, and you smile softly. Bucky is focused on his book, but that would never stop him from being close to you, nor would it stop him from touching you softly. The two of you are used to having some quiet moments where you mostly read, often after an exhausting mission where you two just want to be next to each other. Sometimes you are just cuddled up, or one person reads for the other. But today he is sitting next to you, his soft fingers trailing up and down his thigh, and your head rests against his shoulder.
A soft mumble escapes Bucky’s lips, and then he groans, too focused on the book to realize it. Your smile grows; those moments when Bucky is focused and doesn't mean to groan but still does it are way too cute. If you tell someone that your big, super soldier mumbles and complains quietly about things happening in the book, they won’t believe you. His hand squeezes your thigh a bit more, and you know the part in his book turns him on or he is annoyed about whatever happens right now.
“Buck?”
“Mhm?” He doesn’t look up at you, his eyes still focused on the side of the book, while he furrows slightly.
“Don’t you like the book?” You ask, smirking.
He hums in response, finishing the side he is currently reading before he puts his bookmark - which a photo of the two of you - into the book and closes it. He then places it between his legs and turns his head to face you, greeted by his beautiful girlfriend grinning at him. Bucky inhales deeply, and you try your best not to burst laughing, knowing that he will complain about the things in the book.
“You won’t believe it! She just said she loved him in the last chapter, and now? Do you know? She just kissed his brother; that’s not even a bit cool. They are twins; the brother should be at least nice enough to tell her that she shouldn’t do it when she is with his brother!”
“Doesn’t they both look the same?”
“NOOOO! Her boyfriend has a small scar next to his ear!” Bucky complains, throwing his head back. “And she just kisses his brother. And he didn’t say anything at all.”
You chuckle softly; your hand finds its way to Bucky’s chest, and you slide it up and down, calming him down. He closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth of your hand and the feeling of your soft skin against his broad chest.
“How did they end the side you just read?” You ask softly.
“She pulls away and looks into his eyes,” he explains, looking at you with a sudden, confused expression. “MAYBE SHE FELT IT? OR HE TELLS HER NOW?”
You giggle, but agree with your boyfriend. Maybe Bucky should continue reading before he thinks badly about the characters in the book.
“But they still kissed!”
“Do you want her to look at him to find the scar every time they kiss or are around each other?”
“No, only when the twin is visiting them,” Bucky says, pouting softly.
You lean closer, kissing his pout away. When you pull away from his soft lips, he pouts once more, waiting for you to kiss him again. Such a big guy who is a little puppy when he is around you. You adore him; Bucky is a sweetheart, especially when you’re alone with him. Looking for your warmth, for your touch, and asking for a lot of kisses - even though he doesn’t ask with words, his eyes and his actions are loud enough to tell you what he is looking for. You press your lips against his once more. At this point, his hand slides to your neck and holds you in place until you both need to pull away to breathe heavily. His blue eyes are shining, and he smiles widely before he takes his book and opens it, ready to continue reading to find out if the girl is cheating on her boyfriend. You rest your head back on his shoulder and read more of your own book.
For a while, it’s quiet until Bucky groans again, throwing the book away and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He doesn’t say anything at all, just glancing at the book and narrowing his eyebrows. You giggle softly, but you continue reading your book. He stares at this book for around five minutes before he clears his throat.
“It’s not fun to do a staring contest when the book never needs to blink!” He complains, pouting once again.
“And why did you glance at the book? Did it try to bite you?”
“No! But she knew it was his brother! She kissed him and told him that she wanted to be with him. And her boyfriend heard it all and told her it’s his brother, and she said she knows. And she was just with him together to get closer to his twin.”
You gasp playfully while you hold back your laughter. Bucky, being the grumpy man he is, is even funnier when he complains about a book and its characters.
“It’s just a book, Buck. In my book, they get married without wanting to be married, and they fall in love, but then there is his rival, who asks her out, and she says yes.”
“Those women in books! They can’t keep their dicks in their pants.”
“Nooo- Buck,” you burst out laughing, holding your hands on your belly. “She said yes, because then they would know more about him. But she loves her husband; they both fall in love.”
Bucky groans softly but nods then. Turning his face toward you and leaning closer. His ocean blue eyes dart into yours, and he smirks.
“He is going to fuck her to make sure she knows she belongs to him.”
You shake your head, then you capture his cheeks with your hands and press your lips on his. Bucky grins, moving his lips softly against yours while he pushes you with your back into the mattress. He rolls on top of you and pushes himself slightly up with his arms.
“I show you how much fun it is to get to know who you belong to, Doll.”
You shiver when his voice is suddenly lower, his lips moving softly over your skin, and he smirks at you while he sees the goosebumps he causes with his words and the way he touches you gently and lovingly.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬.
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing
#marvel#mcu#marvel mcu#bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#james bucky barnes x reader#james barnes x y/n#james barnes x you#james barnes x reader#bucky x fem reader#bucky x female yn#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x yn#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader fluff#bucky x reader fanfiction#bucky fluff#Bucky Barnes x reader fluff
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The Malicious Daughter is Back! - 2
Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.
Chap 1, Chap 2 ,-
Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
“Cassy, pardon my eldest daughter. As a mother, I admit the mistakes and the shame you've witnessed today.” Genevieve clasped her friend’s hands together, her demeanor polished yet tense.
She couldn't ruin Victoria and Bucky's engagement because of you. She had worked hard to persuade her husband to connect with the Barnes.
Cassandra looked at Genevieve, noting how she was swallowing her pride—a remarkable feat for such a proud woman. She gently patted her friend's hand. “It’s alright. Every family has its own troubles.”
Genevieve's face brightened upon hearing that. She placed a hand on her chest. “Oh, what a great friend you are. I’m so glad we’re going to be in-laws.”
Victoria felt a wave of relief wash over her. Your attempt to ruin her future hadn't succeeded.
Bucky and his mother, exuding an air of sophistication and wealth, got into their Rolls-Royce Phantom. Cassandra's movements were graceful, and her every gesture was a testament to their family's high status. Still silent and composed, Bucky followed her, his mind racing with thoughts of the day’s events.
In the quiet ride, Bucky's mind kept replaying the events of the day. His fingers touched his lips.
Someone had touched his face and kissed him.
He hadn’t vomited or fainted.
He would have to see the doctor tomorrow.
“Are you alright?” Cassandra looked at her son, noticing how unusually quiet he seemed. He hadn't shown any reaction when she saw him get so close to you. Compared to Victoria, she could see Bucky's face turn pale.
Bucky murmured, “It's strange.”
Then he looked at his mother. “After what we saw today, do you still want to keep the engagement going?”
Cassandra tilted her head and crossed her arms. “We need their money. I thought being in-laws would benefit us, but I'm starting to have second thoughts. We'll see.”
She asked, “What about you? If you don't like it, we can stop the wedding.”
Bucky hummed, his eyes looking out the window. “I don't know.”
Right now, all he needed was an answer to why he didn’t react when you kissed him.
He grabbed his phone and started typing, his fingers moving quickly over the screen. “I want you to search for someone.” Then he clicked send.
Within a minute, his phone vibrated with a message: “OK.”
Bucky leaned back in his seat, his fingers lingering on his lips, his mind racing as the car smoothly glided through the city streets.
💋💋💋💋
Inside the bedroom, Bucky emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets glistening on his six-pack abs and muscular chest. His dark hair was damp, and he exuded a fresh, clean scent.
He had spent an hour in the shower, trying to wash away the sensation of Victoria’s touch.
Then he heard his phone buzz again. It was the information he had requested about your background.
He quickly put on his pants, then sat on the edge of his bed, his body still slightly wet, and started reading the message, his eyes scanning the details intently.
The story unfolded: you are the child of the first wife. After your mother's death, your father, Jonathan, brought another woman and her daughter into the house.
It turned out that when Jonathan was drunk, a woman took advantage of the situation. That woman was Genevieve, and her daughter was Victoria.
You hated your stepmother and stepsister, becoming a rebel. You caused chaos at home and were a troublemaker at school, until the day you were finally kicked out of the house.
Bucky read on until he reached the part about your occupation. His eyes widened in disbelief, and he stood up abruptly. “She's what?!”
🎒🎒🎒🎒
“RINGGGG!”
The bell's sound echoed throughout the entire building. It was supposed to signal the students to enter their classrooms. But they didn’t. They continued smoking, sitting on the floor, or sleeping.
This was a common sight at Granite Hills Reform School, where problematic, delinquent students from all over the country were gathered.
“Tuck. Tuck. Tuck.” The sound of something hitting the floor echoed in the hallway. Students who were still lingering started to head into their classrooms. The sound served as a final warning for them.
They didn’t want to have a problem with the person responsible for the noise.
“It’s time to enter the class, you lazy pricks. Why the heck are you guys still here? Are you discussing the solution for world peace?” You tapped a baseball bat on a locker door, addressing the final-year students who were still acting tough.
The students who had been acting strong before began to back away. One of them pulled a friend away from starting a fight with you. “Let's go. Didn’t you hear she fought two students who weighed like sumo wrestlers?”
“It was her? Damn. No wonder she broke her left hand.”
You watched as the last group of students left the hallway. Now it was empty.
You entered your classroom. Your students were already waiting for you, looking attentive and ready.
You sat on your chair and rested your leg on your teacher's desk.
Pointing at one student, you said, “Andre, prepare the TV.”
“TV again? When can we study?” Jimmy, one of the students, complained.
“Now you want to study? Fuck. I don't get paid enough for this,” you retorted.
“Grab your phone and look for 'To Kill a Mockingbird,'” you instructed.
“We didn't use the book?” Jimmy asked.
“What's the point? You're going to throw the book away,” you replied.
The other students agreed with your reasoning.
“Read two chapters, and I will ask you questions,” you said.
The students in your class started complaining amongst themselves, but you didn't care.
After a while, you announced, “Time's up,” and began asking questions.
You got up from your seat and walked around the class, your presence commanding attention. Then, you picked unlucky student Jimmy.
“Who is Scout Finch, and how does she introduce herself and her family in Chapter 1?” you asked.
Jimmy gulped nervously. “Scout Finch is a local shopkeeper who lives alone and has no family.”
“WRONG,” you declared bluntly.
“Miss, I know the answer,” Andre raised his hand eagerly.
“Give it to me,” you commanded.
“Scout Finch is the young narrator of the story. She introduces her father, Atticus Finch, her brother, Jem, and mentions her mother’s death,” Andre confidently answered.
You snapped your fingers, a smirk playing on your lips. “That's right. Bravo.” Then, you pulled dollar bills from your pants pocket and handed them to Andre.
“As a reward, you could skip this class, buy a coca-cola for you, and grab a coffee from the cafeteria for me,” you said.
“But… I'm diabetic,” Andre protested.
“A mineral water for you then,” you replied dismissively.
Andre rolled his eyes and left the classroom. As he headed to the cafeteria, he never imagined that the hallway would be empty and the dirty graffiti gone.
All of this has happened since you joined this school, and the crime records have also decreased significantly.
You were scary as heck, but you had made a change in this school.
As Andre returned to the class with the drinks, he saw someone who seemed out of place entering the building.
He looked the gentleman up and down. This man seemed to embody the type of person he wanted to become when he grew up.
“I'm looking for Miss Sinclair,” the man asked Andre with a deep voice.
Andre raised his eyebrows, taken aback. “My teacher?”
💋💋💋💋
Back in the classroom, you sat behind your teacher's desk, still asking questions while waiting for your coffee. You rested your right arm behind you and propped your legs up on the desk again.
Finally, Andre entered.
“Finally—" you began, but your words stopped short when you saw the person behind your student.
“Whaa—Andre, did you bring your master?” Jimmy asked, starting to laugh. “Hahaha—oh.” He realized he was the only one laughing in the class.
Andre handed you your coffee. “Here's your coffee, miss. This gentleman is looking for you.”
“Oh, you have a gigolo, miss?” Jimmy quipped.
You looked at the guest while sipping your hot coffee. “The outfit he's wearing from head to toe is worth more than your net worth, Jimmy.”
Other students murmured while Jimmy asked, “Should I become a gigolo too?”
“What are you doing here?” you asked Bucky.
“I want to talk to you,” Bucky replied.
“I don't have time,” you retorted.
“Is this how you talk after you stole a kiss from me?” Bucky's words hung in the air.
“Oohhh…,” the students murmured in surprise, their voices echoing in the classroom. Seeing their intimidating teacher talking to a man who looked prosperous, and she stole a kiss??
“RINGGGG…”
“Get all of your asses out of this room,” you commanded sternly, gesturing for the students to leave.
“Awww,” the students started complaining, reluctant to leave as they wanted to see what happened next. However, they eventually relented and filed out of the classroom, grumbling as they went. In a short moment, the classroom had become empty.
“Is this how you talk to your students?” Bucky asked, a hint of amusement in his voice, observing your interaction with the students.
“They're not students, they're devil spawn,” you replied with a wry smile, leaning back in your chair with a sense of satisfaction.
“Pfft…” Bucky turned away his face, trying his best not to laugh. Now, he realizes entirely that you're different from all the women he's ever met, especially Victoria.
“So why are you here? Is it because I kissed you without your consent?” you asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow.
Bucky cleared his throat. “Ehm. Partly. And I want to talk to you about something else. Please,” he replied politely, his demeanor surprisingly calm despite the situation.
You raised your eyebrows, not expecting him to ask so politely. He didn't seem mad, even after you kissed him. You were starting to feel like Bucky was too good for your stepsister.
Author Note: I have so much fun writing this chapter 😂
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#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes au#james bucky buchanan barnes#buckybarnes#james bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x female!reader#the winter soldier#sebastian stant#sebastian stan character#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#winter soldier#bucky#rich!bucky#ceo!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female!reader#marvel au#marvel fanfiction
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| Take The Reins | 18+ MINORS DNI
You’ve lived your life being that bitch, completely independent from everyone else. After finding love with Bucky you fell into that leading role, helping the man recover from his years worth of torture and brainwashing. It’s starting to take its toll and Bucky notices.
✧ Author Note ✧ So this was very indulgent and a complete filth fest lmao. It’s been a long time coming but I hope you enjoy this hehe~
✧ Pairing ✧ Dom!Bucky x Sub!Reader
✧ Warnings ✧ Sub!Bucky Dom!Reader to start, Mommy Kink, Withdrawn Consent, Feelings (ew), Daddy Kink, Sweetheart Bucky, Dom!Bucky, Sub!Reader, Established Safeword, Teasing, Dirty Talk, so much dirty talk, praising, Nipple play, Pussy eating, Dumbification, Face sitting (M), Ball Sucking, PinV (unprotected), Mentions of Breeding, Dacryphilia, a teeny amount of aftercare, did I mention this is extremely dirty.
✧ Word Count ✧ 4.2k
Bucky's lips had not pulled themselves from their pout all day, his eyes flickering over the words of his book but not quite taking them in, his mind far too preoccupied on something, someone, else.
It had been like this since yesterday; after coming home from a long mission he wanted nothing more than to pull his pants and briefs off his tired legs and slip into the sheets beside you, you’d treat him right, and you had, your hand and mouth working on his thick neglected length; pushing him past the point of return before bringing him back beside you with sweet praises on your lashing tongue as it greedily sucked up the thick slicked mess he left over his abs.
“Mmm, you’re such a sweet little boy ain’t you?” Your tongue ran up the split in his core, drawing a drool-tinged line up to his sternum before sucking sweet marks back down all the while your hand pumped his aching length between your slender fingers.
Bucky’s headspace slipped for a second at your words, or rather the tonality laced through them; it was lacking its usual sultry touch, instead replaced by something akin to tiredness, it was enough to have Bucky slip back from under you until his wide back connected with the wooden headboard.
“Angel?” His calloused hand slipped under your chin, concerned-looking blue eyes meeting your confused ones, but the exhaustion you thought you hid so expertly was easily noticed by Bucky. His heart clenched and panic settled deep in his gut.
All he’d done was take, fumbling over each orgasm you gave him, he hadn’t even stopped to think of what you needed.
“Let me please you Mommy, wanna make you feel good” if all he did was take before he was prepared to give his girl, his dom all the pleasure she wanted. But you pulled his hands from the side of your sweatpants with a weak smile, leaning forward to kiss away the worried wobble of his lips.
“Mmm mm it’s ok baby boy, I’m just a little tired—just wanna cuddle with you” you soothed, running small thumbs over the back of his veiny hands, turning yourself until you lay in your back and pulling him down until his scruffy beard scraped deliciously over the swell of your breasts.
Bucky laid awake long after you, he’d never seen you less enthusiastic about sex, you were always rearing to go and make him whimper and whine below you, but he willed himself to forget about it for just the time being and get himself some sleep.
Little did Bucky know just how deep the exhaustion ran for you.
You loved Bucky, loved pleasing him, taking control but after over a year of denying that primal urge to have someone take the reins, do all the things you did to Bucky, take control so all you had to worry about was being a good little girl — you were wearing thin.
But telling Bucky this in your eyes would pull his carefully stitched string around his heart and soul too taut and the last thing you wanted was for them to snap because you were too much of a baby to suck up something so silly.
Bucky sucked on his teeth before shutting the book over and making a B-line to where he knew you often cooped yourself up.
-
The gym was empty, the only evidence that someone was there being the heavy smack of first against leather, You panted out a growl as you threw another shot, weaker than the last one which was also weaker than the one before, you were beyond tired but that tangled mess of thoughts in your brain meant that you hadn’t worked out enough stress.
Your thoughts were so loud in your ears that you neglected to notice Bucky’s wide frame as he drew closer until he was almost on top of you.
“Have you stopped at all?” He cringed instantly at the calloused nature of his words, he wanted to sound more concerned yet came across as angry, Bucky Barnes shining through rather than the baby boy you were so used to.
“Gotta keep-“ your words were verbal mush as you pranced around the bag, footing clumsy as sweat dribbled down your forehead and into your eyes. Bucky had enough.
“Ok Stop!!” He growled, metal arm tightening around the thick links holding up the bag, stopping it swinging almost effortlessly. You turned to him, head tilted back as you glared at his dark features.
“Let go of it” You demanded, gaze unwavering against his; usually the shades swimming around your irises would have him on his knees before you, apologising breathlessly but not today, not when you were going to kill yourself if you kept up.
“What is this about?” He asked, clipping his words to give you the idea that he was irritated and worried rather than panicked and guilty. You stood your ground for a moment longer before your shoulders sagged and you dropped like a sack onto the floor, shaky fingers clutching your bottle as you greedily sucked down your water.
You knew it would get worse if you kept it hidden from him and a part of you felt more guilty now that you had used the guise of ‘protecting’ him to cover the way you truly felt, so you heaved a breath and spoke.
“I-just…I’m tired Bucky, it’s been a long time coming but last night when you came home, god you looked so fucking hot, all I could think about was me below you while you took the reins.” You picked at the broken skin around your nails as you spoke, your eyes darting anywhere but him as you felt him squat down to your level.
“All my life I’ve done my own thing, been independent and taken control…I guess it’s just weighing on me now. I suppose what I’m trying to say is that- I need to let go, take my foot off the gas and let someone take control, I didn’t wanna tell you because I know how hard it’s been for you and control was a big thi-“ his plump lips securing yours in a passionate lip lock had your words fading into nothingness, Bucky’s scent being the only thing your brain could truly focus on— he often had that effect on you.
“You want me to take the lead baby?” god his voice was so deep, dark locks framing his deep-coloured eyes as they studied you amorously, taking in each subtle detail of your face as the frown you held melted into something weaker - vulnerability.
You nodded softly, doe-like eyes falling from his steely gaze as trickles of submission pumped through your spine to the tips of your digits, this is what it must’ve felt like for Bucky. His big hands cupped both sides of your face and pulled it with a tug to face his dead-on.
“Words angel…otherwise, I don’t know what you want” The look he fixed you with was almost mocking as he spoke like you were a child, barely able to understand a word he said.
“I want you to take control Buck, make me feel good” you whined, internally just a little concerned at how easily you slipped into the role but Bucky had a way of making sure you were safe to lose yourself when he was around.
“Ok baby” he whispered against your forehead, lips pressing delicately against the sweaty skin before he pulled you up and into his arms.
“Daddy’ll help you clean up then he’ll make you feel good, promise” he bit back a smile when you hummed and sunk into his beefy frame.
-
Bucky took his time cleaning you up, tentatively scrubbing your body wash into your skin, his thumbs digging into the knots of your body until you were limber.
Your feet had barely touched the ground since he’d pulled you from the gym, there was no need, bucky thought, he was big enough to move you.
“There we are” he smiled airily as he set your towel-wrapped frame onto the plush bed.
“Now some ground rules baby; we’ll use the traffic light system ok? If you don’t like anything you tell me and I’ll stop right away, I’ll be mad if you don’t. You’ll answer when I ask you questions with your words only unless you can’t, and you’ll be a good girl and have fun” His smile widened when you gave him a small nod followed by a soft ‘yes’.
Bucky’s wide hands ran up your thighs, fingertips venturing just under the towel before he scraped his nails back down, drawing a teased whine from you.
“Mm gonna make you feel so good angel…wish you would’ve told me sooner this is what you wanted” he whispered huskily, pushing you until your back met the mattress before his fingers gripped your wrists and sat them one over the other above your head.
“Keep em there”
He leaned down, tongue wetting his lips before it slipped into your ajar mouth, pushing against your own, suckling slightly on it when he pulled back and your tongue chased him out of your mouth. He took his sweet time unwrapping the front of the towel, your whimpers of impatience music to his ears.
“Mm, what’s wrong baby? You whining because I’m taking my sweet time? Now that’s not being very good is it…you lie there and keep that pretty mouth quiet unless it’s moans of pleasure alright? Wouldn’t wanna punish you so early” his face split in a shit-eating grin as he whipped the towel from your front, exposing your delicate front to him, your nipples pebbling at the gentle breeze falling from his nose and fanning down the swell of your tits, snaking down the valley like a hot river.
“Fuckkk these tits, always so fucking hot—loved when they would bounce up and down in my face while you rode me Mommy” Your body jerked violently under his at the name; the usual breath tone that accompanied it was long gone, replaced with a deep growly timbre that made the insides of your thighs slick with your juices.
“You smell fucking good angel, you soaking yourself thinking bout me? Don’t even try shaking that head” he mumbled around a mouthful of breast, teeth and tongue grazing over it, sucking it into his mouth before sinking his pearly whites gently causing you to shriek and the mismatched feelings. While his tongue lashed over one of your hardened buds his metal thumb circled the other gently like it was your puffy little clit.
“Please!!!—“ you begged, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your legs hitched up onto the bed; his abs ran against your little clit’s hood sending shockwaves over you, and your back arched as your hips ground into the muscle more.
Bucky tut, pulling away from you completely, an incredulous laugh falling from his mouth as he gazed down at his shiny abdomen. You’d fucking soaked him, your desperate grinding slickening his corded muscle. You shut your legs in embarrassment as his fingers ran over the essence and slipped into his mouth.
“Mmm shit angel tastes so good, open those fucking legs” he groaned, knees thumping painfully against the ground but all he was focused on was the sopping meal in front of him.
“Look at you…always knew you were a desperate slut, put your hands in daddy’s hair while he eats you out’ love it when you pull on it” his wide tongue covered the expanse of your slit and folds as he hungrily lapped up the juices, letting out a satisfied hum when a graze of his teeth on your aching pearl and more juices slipping unabashedly from your tight hole.
Bucky sucked on your folds like a man starved; mouth open wide as his thick tongue devoured you, circling your clit before dipping down and slipping his tongue as far as it would go into your weeping hole. He hummed delightfully as you pulled on his locks, his head shaking from side to side, your juices flicking all over the place—you just knew there would’ve been a wet patch all over the bed if it weren’t for your towel but as Bucky continued you weren't sure the towel would stop it.
Bucky was lost in the taste of your pussy, cerulean eyes glazed over, a concentrating stare directed up your body, watching as it jerked and shuddered at his relentless torment.
“You enjoying this sweetheart? You love it when you can go all dumb don’t you…just wait till daddy has you on his dick, I’ll fuck you right baby you don’t have to worry about that” his growls vibrated against your lips and straight to the tight knot coiling in your belly.
You cried out as his nose rubbed against your sweet little pearl, his tongue curling up inside you, his metal hand pressing onto your pubic bone keeping you firmly planted to the bed. His efforts doubled at your garbled pleas and tears.
“Aww gonna come angel? Gonna soak Daddy’s face yeah? Mmm come on sweet girl come all over my fucking face” he moaned through a mouthful of your pussy, eyes shutting as you jerked and shook, your thighs clamping down onto the side of his head.
“Good fucking girl that’s it yeah your feeding daddy so well mama’ giving me your sweet little juices” The words oozed from Bucky’s wet mouth filthily while his thumb rubbed gently over your sensitive clit, his hand only stopping when you whined weakly and pushed on his rippling forearm.
Bucky rose, his fingers shaking as he struggled with the button on his jeans; his cock bulged dramatically against the front, his thighs filling out the denim in a way that should’ve been illegal.
“Fucking shit” he grumbled before a light popped aired around the room, his button pinging to the other side of the room as he impatiently tore down the denim along with his grey briefs before he ripped the henly over his head. If you thought he looked good clothed your mouth ran dry at the sight of his naked form, his tanned skin layered over stacks of muscles, stretching and compressing with each movement he made as he straddled your much smaller frame, his tree trunk-sized thighs caging you in.
“I wanna try something angel, you wanna taste Daddy?” He groaned, hair curling down his built shoulders as his head rolled back, he poked his tongue out to wet his lips, muffling his soft sounds as his hand jerked over his heavy length. He was kneeling over your breasts, the head of his cock positioned perfectly over your lips; when a bead of his precum slipped from his tip your mouth parted in anticipation, watching it trail down and almost fall but his fingers caught it first.
“Answer me babydoll” he reprimanded your silence.
“Wanna taste you Daddy please” god you were so pathetic but you were loving it; it was such a far cry from the role you played just yesterday that it almost gave you whiplash but Bucky was there, he’d make sure you were alright.
“Well, I wanna save my cock for that pretty pussy so how about I sit on that pretty face and you can suck on my balls, how’s that sound?” You gaped, whine falling unruly from your greedy mouth at even just the thought; a simple glance down the way would let you see just how heavy his sac was as it hung and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to massage them with your tongue.
You nodded frantically “Wanna lick your balls Daddy please lemme suck on them…sit on my face and give me them Daddy”
“Ok angel” he smiled, metal fingers cupping your chin and forcing you to look up at his hair-framed face “But you’ll tap my thigh if you wanna stop won’t you?” He asked, dominant edge replaced with soft tones; the last thing he wanted was to push you too far and you’d have no way to stop him.
“I will just hurry” you whimpered, hands grasping the plush cheeks of his ass and weakly pushing his body, attempting to manoeuvre him to your face. He chuckled before giving you what you want.
Bucky never thought that having his balls played with would ever feel as good as it did. In the 40s he’d had one relationship that led to the bedroom but the girl wouldn’t do anything like you would. His blue eyes blared down at you, your gazes meeting as your tongue worked over his sac expertly, lips closing around the soft skin and sucking on one before moving to another—bucky could hardly control himself when you giggled against him at the sight of his fucked out face, he could feel his control slipping into that sub headspace he was so used to but your glazed over orbs made sure he never got too far. He had his perfect girl to take care of and he was gonna damn well do his job.
“Fuck baby-ohh, ain’t ever felt something so good…you like daddy’s balls, don’t you? Mm fuck gonna come soon angel” his confession spurred you on, messily, you sucked both his balls in; a moan flowing from your mouth freely at the stretch of your jaw. Bucky fumbled, his legs slipping and his weight leaning more on your face before his titanium fingers fisted the sheets above your head, making sure he didn’t crush you.
He was losing his marbles, head buzzing so loud in his ears he couldn’t control the breathy moans falling from his lips, he had to move or he’d come.
“Stop baby” he lifted slightly; the whimper coming from you as you followed his movement almost made him go crazy, the urge to plank his entire weight on your mouth almost too much but he shook his head.
“Ah ah angel, wanna come in you— breed that fucking cunt” he rambled. snaking down till his lips were level with yours he kissed you sweetly, your taste still present on his lips and tongue as it messed around with your own.
“You're doing so good for me sweet baby, you wanna keep going? Want me to make you come on my cock huh, breed you fucking full…maybe you’ll let me in that little ass after, pump both your holes full of me—fuck” his hand darted down to squeeze his length, a long throaty groan escaping him and onto your face.
“Shit” he chuckled “just fucking thinking of my dick splitting you in two almost had me cumming mama, your insatiable” his lips fell onto yours again, tongue swiping violently against yours now.
He growled into your mouth as his raging head swiped over your sopping slit, catching on the underside of your pearl, he smacked himself there a few times before slipping back down.
“Colour baby” he whispered, flesh thumb and index finger pinching your chin and bringing you back to him.
“So green Daddy, so fucking green” you cried, eyes glazed over and brain almost mush. This is what you wanted; you were finally letting go and it felt amazing, Bucky was taking such good care of you, teetering on the edge of handling you like fine china and pushing you around like some common whore—a perfect balance.
With prep, Bucky was difficult to take inside but now it felt like a whole different ballgame. An almost sobbed whimper fell from his lips as his cock pushed in, his teeth biting his lower lip firmly, his metal hand carding through your hair until it rested against your scalp. He was so close; so ready to cum in you that it was almost painful to keep his core tight and his balls from spilling. After much effort he was fully inside, curled hair at the base of his cock tickling your labia, his balls resting against your perineum.
You sobbed against his shoulder, arms wrapped around his back, your nails leaving crescent shapes over the muscle while your legs wrapped themselves over his ass, keeping him still inside you.
“Colour angel come on, you don’t gotta keep going” his lips brushed your ear as worry littered his voice. He’d never seen you like this, so…cockdrunk; your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as tears slipped down your face and into your hair. You had so much control of yourself and your life, part of the reason he’d been so enamoured by you was because you’d had a life like his yet bounced back and reclaimed yourself. He knew it was hard for you, he’d comforted you during those times it got bad but he’d never witnessed you giving in so easily— giving yourself to him in the same way he’d give himself to you— it worried him but his heart swelled with pride and love most of all. You’d let him be the decision maker and he wanted to make sure he hadn’t taken too much.
“Green daddy… I'm sorry just-its a little overwhelming” you babbled, your fingers lifting a little and your head flopping back onto the bed to catch his eyes; they swam with nothing but love and awe.
“That’s ok baby, you want me to fuck you nice and slow? I’ll take care of you” his lips pecked your own, dog tags resting on your sternum.
“No Daddy, want you to use me…want you to breed me”.
Bucky was a man of service and he was going to service his sweet little girl in the way she wanted. He pulled out with a loud shlurp until only his head stayed inside before plunging in again. He thrust gently a few times until you loosened up a little, and then his thrust became more powerful, balls slapping into a mixture of your juices and his precum.
“Ohhh fuck—so tight for me sweetheart, you like it when I breed you huh? Bet that dumb little fucking brain is just thinking of nothing but my cock and cum filling you up…oh mama gonna make you so round, watch those tits swell up until they can’t fit in those fucking sexy bras mmmm” Whatever control Bucky had on himself was gone. He thrust quickly, the bed creaking under each slap of his hips into you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, everything was Bucky—and you couldn’t have been happier about it.
“Fuck daddy” you slurred, there was that familiar coiling in your stomach, every nerve in your body pleading to let go “Gonna cum Daddy” the words fell from you like a chant.
“That’s it, sweetness, come for your daddy…milk my fucking cock” and you did. Your pussy clenched tight, your mouth opened in a high-pitched cry, your arms and legs clinging tightly to Bucky as he sent you to the moon and back.
“FUCK—I’m gonna fucking come baby, oh shit mama gonna breed you so good, you want me to breed you? Tell me you fucking want it baby, tell me” he snarled, teeth securing themselves around your earlobe as his thrusts grew sloppy.
“Ahh wan it so bad…hah Bucky” was all you could muster as his cock plunged deep one last time. He moaned loudly, fucking his cock into your cervix as he came
“mmmm fucking hell baby” he laughed breathlessly as he lay on top of you; body tremoring as his orgasm subsided—then all of his attention was on you.
“You alright angel?” He hissed as he slipped out and scooped you up into his arms, ignoring the slight whine of protest and your aching muscles moved against their will. His lips smothered you in soft kisses, his fingers rubbing over all of your body and smoothing out your hair.
“Mmm,” you mumbled, sniffing back your tears. Bucky had been everything you wanted and more but with emotions running high you broke down.
“Fuck did I hurt you babydoll?” He worried, had you lied to him? You seemed to be enjoying it but were you just afraid that you’d dug yourself too deep; his thoughts returned from last night as well—maybe you just never wanted him at all.
Sensing his worried thoughts like you normally would, you had a knack for it, your thumb smoothed over the crease between his brows before you leaned forward and planted a soft kiss there
“I enjoyed it all Buck, too much if anything” You laughed at the last part and it coaxed Bucky to chuckle too.
“Come on; gotta get you cleaned up” He kissed you softly before beginning to move but you gripped the sheets tightly, stopping him.
“Mmm just wanna sleep right now buck” you argued. Any other night Bucky would have argued, that he loved showering you after sex, it grounded him. But the look on your face was one he couldn't resist so he sank back down against the pillows, his foot kicking the soaked towel to the floor.
“Alright but once we get up it’s straight to the shower” he mumbled against your hair, his metal fingers running down the column of your spine.
“Round two in there?” You cracked an eye open to watch him as you spoke.
“You’re gonna kill me woman” he groaned but his cock twitched softly against his thigh.
You’d get your round two, and round three…..and four.
✧ ✧
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BUCKY'S SECOND FIRST TIME
bucky x fem!reader (smut with plot) no use of y/n
All of this... Bucky hadn't had time to think about when it would happen again, he didn't even think it would ever happen again. He didn't even think deserve to have that kind of intimacy with anyone, didn't think that anyone would want to be in that situation with him.
It's been decades and now his head was full of bizarre thoughts. He had nightmares every time he tried to get some sleep, so the idea of spending the night with somebody was completely out of the table. He was witnessing a complete stranger take over his friend's shield and identity. He had not crossed a name off his list of amends for weeks, he had not answered any of Sam's messages and his psychologist was putting more and more pressure on him.
But in all that chaos there was you who always showed him a kind smile, who always asked him how his day was when you saw him come into the bar, exhausted. You who had his favorite drink ready before he arrived and who looked at him with hearty eyes. You thought you were being too obvious but it had been so long since anyone had looked at him that way that he didn't even notice it.
The day he took Sam to your bar was when he realized, and not even on his own. You were thrilled that he finally introduced you to one of his friends (his only friend in fact) and Sam was so funny and he was always picking on Bucky which made their dynamic even more fun to watch. They arrived almost at closing time so it was just the three of you. That night you ended up closing two hours later, inviting them for a few beers and being walked home by the two of them since it was already very late at night.
—Dude, she's so into you —. Sam huffed a laugh while they walked back from your house.
Bucky arched his eyebrows in surprise and then frowned. —What?
—Oh come on, you gonna tell me you haven't noticed?
Bucky was getting more and more confused. —Noticed what?
Sam stopped on his feet and looked at Bucky in surprise. —Steve told me you used to be a heartthrob back in the day.
—Yeah, back in the day. When I was seventy years younger.
Sam rolled his eyes. —Two things. First, as much as I hate to admit it, you don't look a hundred and seven, and second, I can assure you that this girl is head over heels for you. —Bucky was silent, thinking, so Sam spoke again. —Ask her on a date.
So yes, he asked you out on a date. Well, if inviting you to his house for a drink could be considered a date. He didn't like to be seen in public places too much and fancy restaurants didn't go with him, so while he thought of something better for the second date, his house would work for this time. Bucky shook his head as he found himself thinking about a second date.
Bucky always tried to keep everything tidy, clutter annoyed him and made him even grumpier. But now as he let you walk into his house first he realized how empty it was. He barely had any furniture, only one chair, a small sofa, and a TV. He hadn't even bothered to buy a bed because he slept on the floor. He wondered what was going through your head when you saw his home.
—This is nice —. You stated. At first, you didn't realize how empty his apartment was, you were just appreciating that he had trusted you enough to take you to a place as private and intimate as his home. Then you did notice that some things were missing but you assumed that's all he needed.
Bucky was relieved when he heard those three words come out of your mouth.
You noticed how he kept his jacket and gloves on while he took out two glasses to pour you a drink. Whenever he came home the first thing he did was to take those two things off but with you there, it was different yet when he thought about it, he realized that it was fair that you knew and ran away if you wanted to. So when he caught you looking curious, he first got rid of his gloves, and you could already see the metallic fingers of his hand. Then he took off his jacket, revealing how the metal shaped his left arm.
—You're not going to ask about it? —Bucky thought he was getting ahead of you, saving you from the awkward moment of asking about what happened to him. He poured some liquor in the glasses.
—Do you want to be asked about it?
Bucky looked at you and shook his head. You nodded, understanding his decission. You figured he wouldn't want to talk about it, much less on a first date. Your question caught him off guard yet his answer came almost automatically. He didn't want to talk about it and it was the first time he had been given the option of not doing so.
The rest of the night went great. Bucky was very interested in everything you said. He didn't talk much yet you managed to get some information about him. He had a sister, his favorite fruit was plums, he enjoyed 40s music, and he was a cat person. Every time he told you something about himself, no matter how irrelevant it seemed, you found it fascinating.
You noticed that he was very observant, his icy blue eyes never stopped looking at you for a second. You found it cute, intimidating at times not knowing what thoughts went with those long, intense stares. His eyes were beautiful, captivating, so you could tell every time he broke eye contact to divert his gaze to your lips and then back to your eyes.
Each was on one side of his kitchen island, that way you could look at each other's faces while talking. You were leaning more and more on the table that separated you, taking advantage of the moments of laughter to get closer to each other until that way you kissed him.
At first, you felt him a little stiff even though the sigh that he had let out when you had finally kissed his lips told you otherwise. You parted ways. —Is this okay?
Bucky nodded and immediately after, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours again. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone that he didn't know if his lip movements were being too clumsy, if the clash of his teeth with yours was bothering you, or if his tongue slipping past your lips was okay. He did not know how to control his breathing that's why he let out little moans against your mouth, trying to catch his breath without having to leave your lips.
He felt like a teenager again. The tingling sensation in his lower abdomen made him want to run away and hide but at the same time did not want to part from your lips for anything in the world. He was afraid of the way you made him feel but at the same time he didn't want that feeling to ever go away.
Didn't know how or when but he ended up sitting on his couch with you on his lap. Your lips and his had come into perfect synchrony and the kiss was getting deeper and wetter. Oh God and he wasn't gonna complain. Your hands were pulling from the root of his hair, your hips rolled subtly against his crotch, his right hand was resting on your hips. Bucky felt how his jeans tightened right where you were sitting.
Bucky tried to keep his left arm away from you, holding your body on top of his just using his right one. He was aware that the touch of the metal was not the most pleasant in the world. It wasn't soft, it wasn't warm, it was nothing like a flesh-and-blood hand.
—It's okay. You can touch me, James —. You moaned against his mouth. Yet he was still a bit reluctant to do so.
In the end, you would have to be the one to gently grab his metal arm and guide his hand to your waist. You kept your hand on top of his metal one while pressing down so he could hold you as tight as he was doing with his other hand, also to assure him that it was okay. You moved your hand from him once you felt his metallic fingers carefully close and grip your body. You smiled in the middle of the kiss, the firm grip of both of his hands encouraged you to grind harder against his crotch.
You pulled his t-shirt over his head and allowed your fingers to travel down his abs until you reached the button and zipper on his jeans. Bucky hissed at the sudden contact and held your hips tighter.
—Wait —. Bucky said against your lips. He pulled away and you were afraid that you had done something wrong. All you had to do was pull down the zipper, but your hands immediately stopped what they were doing when he spoke. You ran your tongue over your lower lip, already missing Bucky's, and you noticed how pink and swollen his were. —It's been a long time since I —. He confessed.
—Oh. —You said in a sigh. —We can't stop if you—
—No. I just— I just wanted you to know. —Bucky groaned. —I'm sorry. I've ruined it. —He let his head fall on your shoulder.
You giggled and you brought your hands to his cheeks so that he would raise his head and look at you. —It's okay, James. You've not ruined anything. I'm glad you've told me. —You gave a quick peck to his lips. —I was just saying that if you want to stop or need to slow down I'm okay with that.
—I don't want to stop.
—Good. Me neither.
And Bucky crashed his lips against yours again. You finished what you started and unzipped his jeans while he pulled from the hem of your shirt and threw it away. Bucky cursed and brought his mouth to the skin of your breasts, using his lips to suck and kiss on it and his teeth for small bites. You moaned and pulled harder from his hair, making him groan. His hands wasted no time and right after they were unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans while his mouth left a trail of kisses from your boobs to your neck and collarbone until he reached your mouth again.
Your lifted your hips from his lap so your hand could sneak inside his underwear. Bucky did the same with your panties. Your fingers wrapped around his hard dick and Bucky's found their way to your clit. You moaned and closed your eyes shut when he started rubbing your bundle of nerves and Bucky's lips parted and let out all the air that he had in his lungs when your hand moved painfully slow from the tip of his cock to the base of it.
You pressed your foreheads together. Your thighs closed around his hand but he continued drawing circles on your clit and his mouth reached for your lips again. Bucky's hips thrust into your fist while some of his moans died in your mouth. He felt a wave of heat running through his body and that sweet knot formed in his lower belly.
—I need you inside, please —You whined.
You didn't have to beg anymore. You moved from his lap so you both could get rid of your jeans and underwear. You straddled him again, using your hands on his shoulders for stability when your fingers brushed the scarred skin that connected with the metal of his arm.
You noticed the worried expression on his face. He was looking at you with his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for a reaction from you. A reaction of disgust. He could feel his chest rise and fall slowly because of his deep breathing and he was wondering what was going on in your head at the time.
You pressed your lips against his one more time, your hands moved to cup both of his cheeks. —It's okay. Just focus on me —. You mumbled into his mouth and he hummed in response.
Without stopping kissing him, your hands began to travel down. First his neck, then his broad shoulders, feeling again those scars he was so insecure about, and then his arms. His right one was strong, with perfectly defined muscles and the softest skin. His left one was cold and hard, not at all unpleasant to the touch. Your lips moving on his kept Bucky from overthinking.
He gasped when you reached his well-defined abdomen. You would have spent the whole night caressing and feeling his body under your fingertips but you were getting impatient. Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock to line it up at your entrance and gently lowered yourself. Bucky's mouth opened in a perfect "O" form as he gripped your waist tightly. You had to wait a few seconds to get used to the sensation before you started moving, he needed those seconds as well to get used to your tight walls squeezing him.
You started by rolling your hips against his, it was the best way to adjust to his size. Despite how wet you were you could feel that sweet sting caused by his width. You rested your forehead against his, you both were panting when you began to lift your hips and drop them back onto his cock. The sounds that came out of his mouth were music to your ears, the grunts coming directly from his chest made you vibrate.
You hugged him to feel him even closer. Bucky tried to hold on as hard as he could, he kissed your shoulder and softly sank his teeth into your skin there, getting a whine from you, but it was too much. Every time he felt his dick going fully inside you, the knot on his stomach became tighter, every time he heard you moaning his name in his ear he did his best to last a little bit longer but in the end, he found it impossible.
Bucky emptied himself inside you while he dropped his forehead on your shoulder and apologized for coming so quickly. —Don't worry. We have all night —. You played with the hair on the back of his head and allowed him to come back from his high.
And you spent the whole night until you heard the birds chirping. The stamina he had thanks to the super soldier serum was truly something else and he made it up to you until you felt completely disconnected from your own body and Bucky had to snuggle you next to him on the couch to let you sleep.
Bucky didn't sleep that night. He was afraid that if he did, he'd hurt you or scare you with his nightmares so he stayed awake all night, but he didn't mind either. He had his right arm around you and he held you against his body, your head was on his chest as well as one of your hands. He felt the warmth of your naked body against his under the blanket.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky fluff#bucky smut#bucky angst#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky x you#sebastian stan#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#winter soldier smut#marvel smut#marvel angst#marvel fluff#marvel fanfiction#tfatws#tfatws bucky
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cry baby | chapter ten
Summary: The aftermath of the makeover and another Avengers day out.
Warning: Slight violence. Fluff.
Word Count: 1682
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A/N: Don't mind me, I'm just writing 1.6k words of ramble! Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10
The makeover didn’t last longer than that night. The new look brought back a spark of confidence, but it wasn’t sustainable for you. The following day, you returned to your familiar, comfortable style and returned to the bar.
Steve, Bucky, and Sam were already sitting at your usual booth, they immediately stood to exchange hugs and pleasantries. You welcomed the small fuss and attention before heading to the bar to order drinks.
As you waited, you felt a presence beside you. You turned your head slightly, noticing Rumlow, a smirk already playing on his lips.
“Hey there, baby,” he spoke slowly, beginning to lean in closer than necessary. The word “baby”, especially without the ‘cry’ in front of it, sends a shiver down your shine. The memory of John using the same term in a derogatory way replayed in your mind.
Your breath hitched, the room seemed to close in as the bar’s noise faded into the background, and your heart pounded in your ears. He misinterpreted your silence, causing his smirk to grow.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” he taunted as he reached out to rub your arm.
Without thinking, your fist suddenly connected with his jaw in a powerful motion. He stumbled back at the impact, as shock and anger flashed across his face. The entire bar fell silent, and everyone's gaze turned toward you.
Your chest heaved with the rush of adrenaline as you stood there with your hand still clenched. The memory of John faded, the reality of the present replacing it.
Before you could process what you had done, or the distance between you and Rumlow which he was closing, Steve stepped between the pair of you. You felt the presence of Sam and Bucky by your side, too.
“Is there a problem here?” Steve asked, his voice calm but laced with an unmistakable warning as his protective instinct kicked in.
Rumlow glared at you over Steve’s shoulder, rubbing his jaw. “Your precious little sister here just punched me for no reason,” he spat, his confidence faltering under the men’s steady gazes.
Bucky stepped forward, his stance firmed and expression cold. “You need to leave,” he said, his voice low.
Hesitating for a moment before he backed down, Rumlow muttered under his breath as he retreated.
As Steve and Bucky turned to face you, concern evident in their features, the bar slowly returned to its usual buzz. “Are you okay?” Steve asked gently, his hand reaching up to rest on your shoulder.
You shook your head, your breath still trying to steady itself. “He called me ‘baby’,” you explained, a slight tremble in your voice.
Steve, Sam, and Bucky exchanged confused looks between each other. “Isn’t that what we’ve all called you for years?” Sam asked, trying to understand.
Again, you shook your head, more firmly this time. “No, not ‘Cry Baby’. Just ‘baby’. It’s what John would call me at work.”
Understanding crossed their faces. At that moment, Natasha and Wanda came into the bar, laughing together.
“Guys! You’ll never believe what we just saw!” Wanda exclaimed excitement consuming her eyes. Their infectious laughter momentarily lifted the heavy atmosphere. However, Natasha’s keen eye quickly assessed the situation, instantly dropping her amusement and replaced with concern.
“What happened?” she asked, noticing the tension and tears in your eyes. Steve glanced at you before answering, explaining everything that happened to Natasha and Wanda.
After a few moments, your group decided it was best to leave and spend the night at one of your apartments. The tension eased as you entered the familiar safe environment of Natasha and Wanda’s apartment. The conversation turned to lighter topics, the mood-lifting once again.
~
While Steve and Sam found themselves in a deep debate with Natasha and Wanda, all being very animated while discussing, you didn’t know what, you were in the kitchen with Bucky.
Bucky noticed you flexing your hand as you made drinks for everyone, and his expression shifted once again to concern. “Give me a look at your hand,” he said, closing the distance between you.
“Bucky,” you waved him off, smiling. “It’s fine. Really!”
His eyes fixed on yours with determination, as he moved his hand down to yours. “Just… just let me check.”
You sighed and extended your hand toward him. Carefully, he examined it for signs of bruising or sprain. He brought your hand up to his lips after finding no evidence of injury, placing a soft kiss against your knuckles.
“You did good tonight, Sweetheart,” he mumbled against your skin, his voice filled with admiration.
A heat crept up your cheeks as you avoided his gaze. “I don’t know what came over me,” you murmured, feeling the weight of the bar's events catch up with you.
His lips curled into a smile, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “It was so hot.”
Your eyes widened, your face growing even warmer. Looking down, you left your hair in front of your face in an attempt to hide your blush. Bucky realized he hadn’t kept that thought in his head, quickly changing the subject.
Clearing his throat, dropping your hand, he asked slightly louder than he meant, “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”
Turning back to the drinks, you took a deep breath. “I was thinking about heading to the farmers market in the morning.”
“Count me in!” Natasha called out from the living room. “I could use a break from the usual routine.”
Sam called out in agreement, “Me too! Plus, there’s a new coffee place that just opened nearby.”
The group continued to chat as you and Bucky returned with drinks, and before you knew it your quiet morning borrowing fruit, vegetables, and handmade goods had evolved into a full-fledged family day out.
~
As you arrived at the market, the atmosphere was lively and the colors vibrant, it instantly lifted your spirits after the cruel few weeks. The streets bustled with vendors setting up their stalls and customers already curiously searching. The air was filled with an aroma of fresh produce and baked goods.
Natasha and Wanda led the way, pointing out different stalls as their interest spiked. Chatting animatedly, Steve and Sam followed. You, however, walked alongside Bucky, who was taking in the sights.
It was impossible to ignore the ripple effect of your group, it wasn’t as noticeable when you were out around the city by yourself or even just with one or two of your friends. But yet, when it was all six of you, people turned their heads. Their eyes widened in recognition, hushed conversations as you passed by while clearing a path.
“Where should we start?” Natasha asked, turning to you all with a gleam in her eye.
“Let’s check out the fruit stalls,” Steve suggested. “They have some amazing berries this season.”
You pulled a confused face, looking between Bucky and Steve. “Since when have you been into what fruits are in season?”
Steve shrugged nonchalantly. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to broaden my horizons a bit.”
Bucky smirked, giving Steve a nudge. “Next thing we know, you’ll be lecturing us on the benefits of organic farming.”
As you made your way to the fruit stalls, the displays of fresh fruit drew you in. Vendors offered you their best produce to sample with wide smiles and respectful nods.
While everyone else was picking out berries, you noticed Bucky scanning around the market. His gaze halted at a stall selling handmade wooden crafts for a moment longer than the rest. You nudged him gently. “See something you like?”
He turned back to you, meeting your gaze with a small smile. “Just appreciating the craftsmanship… Want to check it out?”
Walking over to the stall with Bucky, you both admired the intricate details on the wooden bowls and utensils. An elderly man with a friendly smile greeted you warmly, he was incredibly pleased to have customers.
“These are beautiful,” you said, examining the craved details gently.
“Thank you,” the man replied, “I handcrafted everything here with care. If you want something special, I can also take custom orders.” he offered you a smile and a business card.
Bucky picked up a small carved box, looking over the delicate patterns that were etched into the wood. “This is incredible work, Sir.”
The man beamed with pride. “Thank you, it’s always nice to meet others who appreciate art.”
After purchasing a few items and listening to Bucky tell to the man about your sketches, you rejoined the group.
~
As the morning turned into afternoon, you all decided to take a break and visit the coffee shop that Sam was excited about. It was a charming coffee shop, filled with vintage decor and had a cozy atmosphere, beautifully placed between a bakery and a bookstore.
On the way, you passed a florist’s stall, the beautiful blooming colors catching your eye. Roses, lilies, and cheerful daisies are arranged in picturesque displays. A bouquet of sunflowers, their bright yellow petals stood out like tiny rays of sunshine, distracting you from the group.
Bucky noticed your absence and began to scan the market. He began to panic, his heart rate quickening, and concern consumed him as he thought about how simulated and overwhelmed you can become in crowds. He finally spotted you, letting out a relieved breath as he made his way over to you.
“Hey,” he called softly, trying to draw your attention. “You okay?”
Turning to him, a warm smile spread across your face. “Yeah, I’m good! Sorry, I got distracted,” you replied, your fingers gently brushing over the sunflower petals.
He let out a soft laugh, his tension easing. He gently took your free hand. “Come on, Sweetheart, let’s catch up with the others.”
You nodded, leaving the sunflowers as you walked hand-in-hand with him through the market.
~
As you sip your coffee, you feel a sense of peace, surrounded by the people who care most about you. The events of the last few weeks faded in your mind, replaced by the warmth of family and the hope of a brighter near future.
---
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#cry baby series#cry baby#bucky barnes x cry baby#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky fanfic#james bucky barnes#bucky fic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x rogers!reader#biker!bucky#biker au
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#huge azz#bucky x you#toy story#the dragon prince#tears of themis#twink#2d animation#jordyn jones#nico tortorella#i will reach my ugw#dreamwastaken#eerie
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a dish served cold (mini series - part one)
Wild West Marvel AU
outlaw!bucky x reader
The law had not brought you justice, so it appeared you would have to find it yourself. Fate led you to Crimson Junction for a reason.
Warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, violence, mentions of death, blood, mention of guns, alcohol, swearing, creepy men, period typical attitudes, outlaw bucky, protective bucky, bucky has issues, mention of robbery & crimes, mention of police (law), mention of flooding & drought, vague mention of animal death, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything
Word Count: 3k
A/N: hiya! it's been awhile. i started a first draft of this story literally like a year ago? it's gone through so many changes to the plot (it was originally called queen of the gunslingers). this has been so refreshing and wonderful to write, i wasn't even sure if i was ever going to post it because western marvel au is so niche but i know a few people enjoyed me & the devil so!! this mini series is pre written so i'll be trying to post updates weekly as i edit. the series is sitting around 25k-30k words and will be 7 chapters long. if you'd like a tag list let me know. sorry for any typos - not proof read.
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Rain was supposed to be a welcome sight.
The inhabitants of Crimson Junction had been thankful for the blessing, a relief from the drought that had plagued them. The surrounding areas had been unceremoniously crowned The Dustbowl after seven years of no rain. Fierce winds had blown in, kicking up the dirt, sand, and dust, blanketing the surrounding areas. Crops failed to grow, animals suffocated, and homes were buried. Most left the area, choosing to abandon their land in search of fruitful and safe territories.
The canyons bled crimson the day the rains came; water mixed with the red soil and rock. The people of Crimson Junction celebrated, their prayers were finally answered. It was only as the valleys began to flood and the once barren riverbeds overflowed that the inhabitants considered the bleeding waters an omen.
Those who lived out in the west were familiar with danger. Out in the open, death lurked everywhere. It watched from the desert, a darkness always lingering a few feet away. Death took on many forms—a bullet, a wound, a sickness—but when the rain came disguised as a blessing, no one was prepared for its wrath.
Floods wiped away entire homesteads. Homes and countless heads of cattle were lost to the raging waters, swept downstream, and smashed between debris. Survivors, soaked and shivering in their nightgowns and nightshirts, gathered in the small crossroads town of Crimson Junction. Fortunately, the town had been spared, but it had become an island, isolated in a lake of thick, deep, red mud. Travellers and misplaced locals sought shelter, and the town came to life overnight. The canyons were unstable and too dangerous to travel due to the landslides and debris blockages, and with mud up to your elbows, it would be impossible to walk through, let alone lead a packhorse. So, you were all stranded, patiently waiting until the roads were cleared.
It appeared fate had led you to Crimson Junction for a reason.
The hotel attendant sighed as you descended the stairs of the rickety building, the older man muttering about the mud tracked in through the entrance. Even Crimson Junction had not been spared the sludge. The thick, red substance appeared to be a problem in every establishment in the area, gradually caked onto not only your clothes and shoes but also the flooring.
You gave the attendant a shy nod of your head as you exited into the night. The chill of the night air bit at your bare skin, and you were suddenly grateful for the layers of skirts that pooled around your legs. The road so far had been hot and sticky, with layers of dust that clung to your skin. When it was not still and scorching, the winds would whip violently. Sand and rocks had pelted you, leaving your skin stinging and your hair tangled. The floods had allowed the temperature to finally drop below the pits of hell.
You hesitantly depart the porch of the motel, the heels of your riding boots clicking as you lower yourself onto the street. Wooden planks squelched under your weight as they sank deeper into the sludge. The town had tried to combat the muck by laying out boards to traverse, but despite their good intentions, the wooden boards seemed to sink deeper and deeper with each passing day. The streets echoed something more akin to a pigsty than a walkable path.
With the chill in the air, you hugged your arms around your bodice, still making sure to hike up your skirts to prevent them from dragging through the mud. Ever since finding yourself stuck after the rains, you had resigned yourself to your hotel room. You slept and read to pass the time, and your horse was boarded at the stables for a hefty price. But after days of waiting and your funds running low, you found yourself feeling rather antsy, your impatience growing the longer you waited. With impatience came risk and rash decisions, so, against your better judgement, you opted for a strong drink at the saloon to quieten your mind.
The saloon was alive with music and chatter, with other stranded travellers slurring their words or in a state of undress despite the sun only having recently set. You expected many of them to have wondered into the establishment not long after awakening from whatever alley they had drunkenly stumbled into the night before. It certainly smelled like it, with clothing plastered in mud to match. The chaos allowed you to slip in quietly, finding an empty spot along the bar. You frowned at the coating of muck congealed onto the floor, a mixture of questionable liquids you did not want to identify. With a wave of your hand and coins slid over the sticky bar, you were content staring into space as laughter and singing broke out around you.
Your peace was short-lived. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a looming shape as a body slid in beside you. Your eyes stayed locked on your drink, only noticing the scent of whiskey and sweat clinging to the man.
“Where have you been hidin’, Miss? I ain’t never seen a woman as pretty as you in these parts.”
You expected a lady such as yourself to be few and far between in these lands. Most of the folks who roamed this far into the desert were hardy, stocky, and rough around the edges. You did not fault them for it, but rather a sense of admiration for the determination it had taken to live through the seven years of drought. You were, arguably, a bit delicate in appearance. Though, it was a purposeful presentation. Pristine and shining among the filth. Your hands were smooth; there were no calluses or scars. Hair neatly pinned back, and a clean and tidy handkerchief knotted around your neck. Your skin was untainted by the sun, and your lips were unpeeled. Your dress, though not the height of city fashion, was impractical for such a lifestyle as farming or droving. The layers of fabric were orderly, with intermittent embroidery and lace. You had lived a comfortable life, and it was clear you were raised to be a wife and homemaker. Your Pa had worked hard to afford you such a future.
“Not from these parts.” You spoke into your glass as you raised it to your lips with an eye-roll. A gentle girl you might have been to your Pa, but he was not present. And you were not feeling particularly in favour of being pleasant.
“Traveller, like myself. Guessin’ you stuck ‘cause of the floods too?” The man mused, leaning his forearms against the sticky bar. He shifted his body forward, craning his neck as if desperate to catch a proper glimpse at your face.
“Somethin’ like that.” You respond dryly, unmoving.
“Say, you interested in havin’ a good night, sweetheart? I got a room in the hotel over yonder if you wanna join me.”
Grinding your teeth in annoyance, you jerk your head around to face the man.
“What do you take me for?” You snap at him. You take note of his greying hair and the locks thinning along his hairline. His beard, with uneven, yellowing teeth revealed by cracked lips, turned into a sneer.
“I didn’t mean no insult, darlin’.” He starts, “I ain’t insinuating you’re an easy mark, sweetheart. Just knew I couldn’t let a catch like you go walkin’ out of here without at least tryin’.”
“Charmin’,” you huff. “Did you not consider that I would never want to lay with a dimwitted pest such as yourself?” As you speak, you can see his once-toothy grin harden into gritted teeth and a look of drunken rage wash over his features.
"Well, ain’t you a quick one, huh?” He spits out, his body looming closer. Only moments before the two of you had been invisible, another set of bodies in the crowded saloon. As his voice began to rise, you could feel heads turning and eyes locking onto the both of you as the scene unfolded. “A fuckin’ tease, ain’t ya? Hangin’ around this bar all by yourself, askin’ for it. You tellin’ me a lady like yourself travelling alone ain’t some whore lookin’ for some attention?”
You roll your eyes once more, shooting back the last of your drink. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to remain in your hotel room. Back turned, you begin to walk away from the seething man. In your brief moment of naivety and vunrablitiness, he wraps his mud-clad hands around your forearm, yanking you backwards towards the bar.
“Now where ya think you’re goin’ now, miss? I weren’t done talkin’ to you.” He hissed into your ear, the stench of his warm whiskey breath fanning across your face. You began to lower your hands, reaching for your riding boot. Your fingers gathered your skirts, entangling themselves in the fabrics as you hoisted up the layers. Your hands drew closer to your knees, your back pressing into the hardwood bar, twisting your torso away from the man.
A gruff voice quickly interrupted, drawing your attention away.
“You know this man, ma'am?” The low voice asks. You glance over at it’s owner, a dark-haired man, and look him over with one sweep.
The man was familiar to you, though he wouldn’t know you. Out of all of the towns you had visited in the past few weeks, there was scarcely any that failed to have his likeness plastered upon a bounty board. James Buchnan Barnes. Or Bucky, as he was more commonly known. The papers and gossip of fellow travellers spun a tale, one of a group of heartless butchers and thieves. He was wanted for a train robbery gone wrong in the south. A decent price upon his head, as well as that of his gang. From what you had read, the group had split in an attempt to lose the law. One had gone north, another deeper south, while Barnes had gone west.
The posse of outlaws had been lucky, as the law had hurridly dismissed the chase; a different high-profile robbery had drawn their attention away. One they had prioritised more than the livelihoods of the lowerclass who had been on the train that day. Bounty hunters still pursued, but mostly the world moved on. Some Duke from Europe had been robbed while exploring the west too trustingly, and the story had become an overnight sensation. So Barnes and his companions had become a distant whisper, a sun-bleached and fraying poster behind a bar.
But you had not forgotten Bucky Barnes.
“No.” You finally choke out in reply, your hand raising back to thigh-height as you stand tall. When faced with a killer, you had anticpated a feeling of disgust, but instead a burning curiosity roared through your veins.
Barnes lets out a slow breath, his eyes darting over the unwelcome man. Barnes was easily twice his size, with pure muscle and a wicked look in his eye. There was a charm to him, you supposed, in a rugged, dark-handsome stranger, saviour of damsels in distress type of way. Messy dark hair peaked out from beneath his hat; some pieces curled around the nape of his neck. Behind his dark lashes were icy blue eyes, with the crinkle of a smirk at the corners. Like many others, there was a hint of red earth dusted across his face, neck, and hands. The clothes covering his broad, muscled body looked well-worn, and his boots were caked in mud. You noted the two revolvers slung around his hips and a bandolier stocked with ammunition across his chest.
“Do you want to know this man?” He asks again.
You lift your chin. “No.”
“Good.”
Before you can react, Barnes has leapt forward, landing a solid upper-cut on the drunk man with a grunt. The room erupted into cheers and whistles as the two clashed, glasses smashing and furniture overturned in their wake. You stood frozen, fingers in a white fist around your skirts. There was the sickening sound of bones crunching beneath flesh, and blood sprayed in droplets across sodden floors. As quickly as it started, it was over. One of the bartenders promptly escorted the unruly man out as he seethed and yelled obscenities. The saloon crowd roared back, a pulse of excitement and adreline rushing through the saloon. Barnes put his hands up in surrender as the barkeep eyed him cautiously, but the barkeep inevitably backed off, returning to safety behind the bar. Barnes sweeps a hand through his messy locks, his eyes darting around in search of his hat, which had been knocked to the floor.
Against your better judgement, you bend down, retrieving the hat. You brush some of the red dust and broken glass from the brim before handing it back to the outlaw. He places it solidly back on his head.
“I appreciate your concern, but you didn’t need to do that, Mr.” You tell him, and he shrugs.
“If you say so.” Barnes goes to turn away, then thinks better of it. Sucking his teeth, he tilts his head, looking you up and down once again. His eyes linger on your hair, then your dress, before finally settling on your clenched fists. “You travellin’ alone, Miss?”
“I don’t see why that's any of your business, Mr…?” You trail off, fingers flexing as you force yourself to loosen the grip on your skirts.
“Mr. Clark. Benjamin Clark.”
A false name. Clever.
“Right.”
He chuckles with a shake of his head, tapping the bar for a drink to be sent his way. Exhaustion seems to embody his very being; fatigue hangs from his bones like his own flesh and muscle. He doesn’t seem to notice your analysing stare; his focus is instead drawn to wiping off the splatter of blood that had been spat in his face at some point during the commotion.
“Look, Miss…?” He begins with a sigh, finally looking you in the eye.
“Nellie Chase.” You lie through your teeth, watching him through your eyelashes. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he looks down at you.
“Look, Miss Chase. I don’t know yer circumstances, but it ain’t safe for a lady such as yerself to be travellin’ alone, especially in these parts. I imagine you was just passin’ through like the rest of us, then got stuck ‘cause of all that rain. But, with men and women of all sorts all trapped up together like this… well, it’s bound to cause trouble. You’d be better to stay locked up in your rooms, Miss; it would be safer than roughin’ it out with this lot.”
You hold back a scoff and instead opt to lift your chin. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth as you take a step closer to the outlaw, eyebrows raised and head cocked to one side. “Well, thank you for your wisdom, Mr. Clark, but I am perfectly capable of handlin’ myself.”
A glass of whiskey was now in his hand, and you coolly slid over a coin to pay for it before he could. He blinks at you in surprise, and you flash him a grin in response. With narrowed eyes, he swallows back half of the amber liquid.
“I imagine so.” He lets out gruffly. “Where are ya’ headed?”
“Saguaro Basin.”
“Saguaro Basin? Wha’chu doin’ headed that way? Last I heard, there was some bad business in those parts. Cholera and all that.”
“I’m goin’ to be married.” You make a point of flashing the ring on your finger, which is met with a half-interested grunt. He didn’t seem to question how garish it was or how the metal did not match the earrings dangling from either side of your head. Though you imagined, you could not expect a man to notice such details as a woman might.
“Yer gettin’ married and yer husband-to-be ain’t even got the time to come get’chu himself?”
“Well, I imagine he is quite busy workin’, and it is such a long distance to get there and back. So he paid for me to take the coach, as it is supposed to be safer—” You cut yourself off with a frown as you notice his eyebrows raise. You clear your throat as you decide to shift the topic. “So, where are you headed then, Mr. Clark?”
“Same as you. West. Bit further, though maybe more Marielle ways.”
“Marielle… that’s…?” You trail off. You knew exactly where Marielle was, nestled deep into the western deserts and canyons. Once, it was the home of outlaws, whores, and rustlers. These days, it had been transformed into some sort of respectable town with the help of the law and the church. In fact, it seemed the now bustling town had grown in size from it’s humble beginnings and was becoming a hotspot of trade and business in the deep west. You’d heard mention of the fearsome prison that had been erected not two years ago, where prisoners were subject to hard labour while awaiting their sentencing.
“Long past Saguaro Basin, that’s for sure.”
“Right.”
You were met with silence, but continue to pry. Would he spin a grand, elaborate tale just as you had done yourself? Or would he tell the truth—a raw, bitter confession of guilt to just another pretty, misplaced lady stuck in Crimson Junction? This was all rather exciting.
“What brings you there? Business, pleasure… family?”
“Business.”
“What kind?” You dare to push further.
“Not the type’a business a lady such as yerself would be interested in.”
“How so?” You seem to be out of luck; as the outlaws patience had grown thin. You could practically hear the tension snap as he let out a low ‘hmph’, reluctant to answer the question. Your fingers dance across the sticky bar as you ponder if you should push your questions further, but Barnes had other plans. Taking a long swig from his glass, he finishes the last of his whiskey and gets to his feet.
“Well, Miss Chase, I thank you for the drink but I must be goin’ now. And you should get back to yer rooms and keep outta’ trouble now.”
The outlaw did not stay long enough to hear your farewell, preferring to slink wordlessly out of the building. With a smile, you lean against the bar, motioning for the barkeep to get you another drink.
Fate had led you to Crimson Junction for a reason, and how gratifying it was to know why.
#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x female reader#james buchanan barnes#marvel fic#marvel#marvel au#western au#cowboy au
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.02: SLEEP ALONE
As the adopted daughter of Tony Stark, your role becomes even more twisted and entangled when you meet and fall in love with one James Barnes. Unbeknownst to you, your world is about to flip upside down. Bucky x Stark!Reader
Word Count: 2,146
Warnings: mentions of death, dead body
*this was an anon request*
.01
Since that fateful meeting, you spent more and more time with James. You hadn’t booked a return flight from Bucharest, not until you found what you needed. You hadn’t pestered him anymore about his metal hand, which he had elaborated was actually his whole left arm. And he didn’t treat you any different after knowing of your powers. You simply started finding comfort in each others company. Daily coffee runs turned into shared dinners and discussions over tea. He had one more place he wanted to investigate that your mother might have stayed in and this time he conceded to your insistence on coming along.
It was what looked to be an abandoned warehouse about an hour from the city. James had explained that some people used it as a halfway house on their way out of Bucharest. It’s roof was still intact and it was large and spacious, lots of places to hide if you didn’t wanna be found.
“I’ll go first.” James said, which you appreciated. Even though you had what felt like the power of a nuclear bomb underneath your skin, this was unfamiliar territory and the last thing you needed to do was bring down a giant cement building. You could already see the headlines and the disappointed phone call you would be receiving from your father having to clean up your mess.
You followed close behind James as he entered the warehouse. You weren’t expecting to find anyone here. Every other lead had been a dead end but you weren’t exactly ready to give up either. The main room of the warehouse was empty, nothing but abandoned tents and scraps left behind by whomever came before. You sifted amongst the trash with your foot, to see if there was anything of potential value. James wandered off into one of the adjacent rooms as you continued looking. A moment later, James returned looking as if he’d seen a ghost.
“What’s the matter?” You asked, abandoning your search through the trash.
“There’s a body in one of the rooms back there.” He started, looking down at his feet and shaking his head. “I didn’t look too closely at it but it seemed to be female.” His blue eyes met yours and they seemed to tell you “Don’t go in there.” or did you read his mind?
You pushed by him and began marching towards the room he came from,
“Y/N.” He called out for you, jogging to catch up with you.
“I have to see. I have to know for sure.” You stated sternly and continued your momentum. When you entered the room, you saw a pile of blankets in the corner. James was right behind you, you could feel his soothing presence as you crept closer to the blankets. There was long brown hair sprouting from the top of the pile. Carefully you knelt down and slowly peeled back the blankets, revealing the still face of a woman. A woman who eerily looked like you. Same hair, same face. James stood a small distance behind you, giving you space but remaining close enough if you needed him. He was silent but observed your every move.
As you looked at her, you noticed something that looked like the corner of a piece of paper sticking out from the jacket she was in. Carefully, you pulled it from the body and found your name written on it. With shaking breath, you unfolded the paper and read the handwritten note.
“To my dearest Y/N,
If you’re reading this that means he found me. I am so sorry for all the pain I caused you, I only ever wanted you to have a normal life. Last I heard you were adopted by a very important man who has given you everything I never could. I hope you are happy. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, which is why all of this started. If he hasn’t already, he will try to come for you. He hates people like you but you are a miracle. A magnificent and beautiful creature with endless capabilities. Never forget that.
Please, protect yourself however you can. I will be watching over you, I love you.
Your mother.”
You paused for a moment after you finished reading, standing up to your feet.
“Are you alright?” James asked softly.
“Someone killed my mother because of me.” You said through gritted teeth, you could feel the power surging in your veins. In every fiber of your being. White hot and begging to be released. James took a step closer to you.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Sorry won’t bring her back. Sorry won’t change what I am.” You eyes were locked on your mothers body.
“Y/N, it isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself for this.” James reached to place his flesh hand on your shoulder but you spun around pushing his hand away.
“Don’t patronize me! Don’t try to understand how it feels to know you are the reason your mother is dead in a warehouse!” You shouted, red sparks emanated from your fingertips. Something was waking up inside you.
“Y/N.” James called gently, as you fought the sobs trying to escape your throat. Let me out. The power within you cooed. Let me free.
“Y/N, look at me.” James’ voice was stern but you barely heard him over the roar in your ears. You began to hyperventilate, as the power continued to grow within you looking for a release.
“Y/N! Don’t!”
James’s voice was the last thing you heard before a scream erupted from your lungs. A scream so anguished and broken. Filled to the brim with pain. Then everything went black. There were flashes as your mind flowed in and out of consciousness. Smoke and rubble. The feeling of strong arms wrapping around you. James’ muffled voice so close you could feel the vibration on your skin.
When you came to, you were back in your apartment. James was sitting at the coffee table wringing his hands together. When he noticed you stirring he jumped to his feet to be at your side.
“Y/N. Are you okay?” He asked, his eyes scanning your face anxiously. You brought a hand up to your head and winced,
“I think so.” You mumbled. “What happened?”
James looked down for a moment,
“What do you remember?” He asked.
“I remember finding my mother and her note and then feeling so much anger and pain and then nothing.” You answered, looking to him and seeing the worry in his eyes.
“What did I do?” You asked urgently. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again.
“James, tell me, what did I do?” You insisted.
“You brought half the building down on top of us. I pulled us out of the rubble.” He admitted. You let out a deep sigh,
“Oh my god.” You winced, exactly what you didn’t want to have happen.
“It’s alright, it was an old building anyways no one will think anything of it.” James assured. “What matters the most is that you’re ok.” He added. You began rubbing your forehead, racking your brain to put together those lost moments of time but it only started giving you a migraine so you gave up.
“I’m sorry, James. I try so hard to keep it under control but-
“No, don’t.” He shook his head. “You don’t have to do that with me.”
“Do what?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
“Don’t have to explain yourself. What you are.” He hesitated before pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handing it to you.
“I figured you would want to keep this.” He said, changing the subject. You took your mothers note from his hand and felt the tears welling in your eyes. James moved to stand up when you reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him leaving. He looked down at you in surprise, after the events of today he assumed you’d be done. On your way back home and he’d go back to being alone. But something changed when you grabbed his hand, you felt it and you pushed that feeling through you to him.
“Don’t go.” You whispered with a shaking voice. “I don’t like sleeping alone.” You felt vulnerable saying it but it was true.
“Neither do I.” He admitted but he made no move to join you in bed. “But I don’t think you’d want to share a bed with me.” He slid his hand from your grip and stepped back over to the coffee table. You sat up, propping yourself on your elbows as you watched him.
“What are you talking about?” You asked, observing him intently. His body language had changed, he was stiff and you could feel him closing you out.
“I’m not a good man, Y/N and if you knew everything I’d done.” His voice broke for a moment and he shook his head as if to collect himself. At this revelation you pushed yourself all the way out of bed and walked over to stand before him. Pulling his head up to look at you,
“I may not know every thing about you, you’re right. But I know enough to know that you aren’t a bad man.” You said, gazing into his eyes.
“No, I’m not. Not really.” He pulled his head away from your hold but you pulled it right back.
“Listen to me.” You stated, holding his head between both of your hands. “I get to decide who I want in my life and who I want to share my bed. No one else. If you think I won’t still love you because you have skeletons in your closet, after I nearly killed us both. You are out of your mind.”
His eyes widened at your accidental declaration. Love might’ve been strong but you felt something more than just affection for him. He didn’t try to pull away again so you released him, letting your hands fall to your hips.
“If you want to leave because you don’t feel anything for me, I will understand. But don’t tell me it’s because you don’t think you’re worthy. That just isn’t true.” You swallowed hard, waiting for him to push past you and leave but he didn’t. He simply stood still. So you reached down and took his left hand, slowly slipping the glove off and throwing it the the floor. You held his metal hand in yours, inspecting it delicately
“Is this why you don’t think you’re worthy?” You asked. James furrowed his brow and blinked as if recalling a painful memory. But he didn’t pull away. You interlocked you fingers with his,
“Whatever you did before, whatever it is you don’t want to tell me. I don’t hold it against you. And I never will.”
James blinked rapidly, holding back the tears you could see threatening to spill over. With your other hand you caressed his cheek and he leaned into your touch.
“You saw the worst side of me and you stayed anyway. What makes you think I wouldn’t do the same for you, James.” You said, leading him to sit on the edge of the mattress. As you sat down, you helped him shrug off the jacket he’d been wearing all day. His mechanical arm was more exposed now, just a cotton sleeve protecting it from your eyes.
“I’ve hurt a lot of people.” He spoke, his voice hoarse. He rolled up the sleeve to reveal more of his arm. “This arm has done nothing but cause pain until I met you.” He looked at you and the pain you saw in his eyes cut through you like a knife. Carefully, you placed your hand on the cool surface.
“Did you have a choice? When you hurt them, did you have a choice?” You asked.
“No.” James choked on the sadness in his throat. Once again you held his face in your hands, your faces inches from each other.
“Than it isn’t your fault.” You started. “Whatever you’ve done, is not your fault, James.”
His head dropped in defeat and you held him close against your chest. Letting him cry if he needed or simply just feel the warmth of you. For a moment you sat there, holding him to you until he sat up. You flashed him a sympathetic smile,
“Come, let’s lie down.”
You both slid into bed, it was not quite big enough for two but you didn’t mind feeling the warmth of him next to you. In fact you curled yourself up against his chest and fell asleep almost instantly. James remained awake, watching you sleep until he couldn’t keep the exhaustion at bay any longer. That night was the most peaceful night either of you had had in a long time.
-------
tags:
@blackbirdwitch22
@queenashen
@annonymsworld
@ladyvenera
@laurxn-robinson
#bucky barnes#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#sebastian stan#sebastianstan#buckybarnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#stark!reader#stark!daughter#bucky fanfic#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes
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No words, just beef
#sebastian stan#bucky barnes#winter soldier#bucky barnes drabble#bucky x you#tfatws#james buchanan barnes#stucky#buckysam
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THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER
Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader
Summary: You and Bucky have some kind of a heart to heart conversation. Also you found out something truly important for the case.
Warnings: Angst, brief mention of su!c!dal thoughts, kinda Bucky’s pov in the beginning (it’s a flashback), mention of the loss of his family, finding a d3ad body, being stalked, implied kidnapping and I think that’s all? -> 18+!!
Other: English isn’t my first language. Also I have mixed feelings about this chapter, I kind of hate it but at the same time I don’t??? + sorry for not posting sooner
-> Masterlist
-> Part nine ; Part eleven
-> The Fast Getaway (10)
His memories began resurfacing not long ago, he remembered word by word Pierce’s conversation about taking down Captain America before it was too late. His headache started there; whenever he tried to put a face on the name he heard, memories started to emerge. Initially, he thought it was just some man he killed as the memory of him was so distant that it felt like a lifetime ago. But as soon as he heard that conversation, confusion set in. Who was Steve Rogers? Why did his name sound so familiar, almost as if he was someone he used to care about? The Winter Soldier never cared for anyone or anything except his job, that was for sure.
But days passed by, and he couldn’t help but overthink whenever he was left alone in his room - or in his cell, as the others said. He noticed that every time he tried to recall a life before Hydra, if he ever had one, his thoughts became clearer each time he did. Perhaps, there was more to his past that the years of murders - what if he used to have a family? Friends? A lover, even.
Why couldn’t he remember? Why was he so confused?
He never dared to ask Pierce about it. Some instinct warned him not to, as if digging into a past life he didn’t remember would only cause pain. Not mental pain, physical pain. But why? Bucky didn’t remember ever being hurt before if not for some times when he deserved it. Other that that, Hydra was home.; they cared about him. They would never do anything to hurt him, he was important there. He mattered, and he had missions to fulfill.
So why did guilt start creeping in? Every time he was sent on a mission, Bucky questioned his actions. He wasn’t supposed to, he was taught that. But were all those murders really necessary? And with each one, the disappointed face of a woman haunted his thoughts. A woman whom he used to love unconditionally and who loved him back the same way if not more, months later he realized that woman was his own mother. A face, a name he forgot a long time ago. A woman who didn’t have a meaning for him anymore, and that he had left behind without a goodbye.
But he started to remember her, and then came his father, his sister, Steve, even Dot. As the realization that he was nothing more than just a killer hit him, Bucky longed for himself to be his next mission. Perhaps then he could reunite with his family - family who died thinking he was buried six feet underground God knows where. He felt ashamed of who he was, of what he had become. What would his sweet mother think of him? His sister? If he got back to them in the afterlife, maybe he could find a way to earn forgiveness. He could even apologize for not fighting back when they wiped the only memories he had dear, but he soon understood that nothing could ever change his past. Even if he took himself out, his actions would still be there.
So Bucky was determined to change at least his future and make up for what he had done. The first step was breaking free from Hydra, then finding Steve and fight alongside him once again. Even if a small part of him, a little voice in his head, told him Steve would see him as a monster. He saw himself as one, so what prevented Steve to do the same? He needed to try, and if Steve decided that Bucky wasn’t worth saving then the soldier wouldn’t argue. He was tired of fighting.
He seized the chance when he was assigned to assassinate the rebellious Black Widow, the woman he had loved for some time when they met in the Red Room. Not that he was supposed to remember that, but thankfully he did. She was supposed to be his last mission before they froze him back for a few more years, and he succeeded. Of course he did.
He didn’t eliminate Natasha, he didn’t even debated that for a moment. The further she was, the better. At the time, he liked to think she got reunited with Yelena, as she used to talk about her younger sister a lot with him during the few moments alone they had.
Bucky Barnes simply never returned to the Hydra base he worked at, and he left no trace behind. His intention was to not be found and be brought back there, even as strong as he was, he was sure he couldn’t take it.
He did well for a while. He flied low, not leaving the States - he couldn’t even if he wanted to. All he wanted was to find Steve, he was the only piece of his old life he could have back and so, for the next few months, he jumped from one place to another. He felt like he had been catapulted from the 40s to that moment in a heartbeat, and he took his time to get used to modern life.
However, he should have known that waiting would cost him everything.
He was certain he had escaped Hydra’s grasp, convinced he wouldn’t make any mistakes. Always walking with something covering both his face - as much as he despised the feeling - and his metal arm, especially that piece of metal he wanted to rip off his body. The only reason why he didn’t do that was because, in his opinion, his scars were ugly enough and there was no reason of causing himself other ones. He avoided engaging in conversations with anyone, by that time he wasn’t even sure if he remembered the sound of his own voice anymore.
And yet, she found him.
You found him.
≈
“I found you?” You asked in disbelief. His revelation seemed almost unbelievable, not because he was prone to lying to people but because you had absolutely no memory of it.
You don’t recall ever meeting him before joining the Avengers, not even briefly or you would have clearly remembered. He was a legend amongst Hydra agents, and of course you did know who he was ever since you were a kid - you did see him around the facility a couple of times but never a word was exchanged. He was their golden weapon, everyone within those walls knew him but he was rarely out of Pierce’s sight, and for a time you even thought he was just a made up story.
“Emma.” He said in a warning tone. “Don’t piss me off.”
“I’m just trying to understand what’s happening, James.” You answered, not knowing how to proceed. “How did I even find you? When did this happen?”
Bucky frowned at your words, and there was a minute of stunned silence between the two of you. He studied you, attempting to understand if whether your obliviousness was genuine or you just wanted to avoid confrontation. “You don’t remember?”
“No.” You admitted, your voice barely more than a trembling breath. The guilt you felt for the things you did for Hydra wasn’t comparable to what you were feeling in that moment. You knew how being used like a puppet felt like, and you knew he had been through that for more than seventy years which was worse than death. And when he finally escaped hell, you brought him back there.
“It happened about six months after I escaped.” Bucky began, his voice low as he avoided looking at you. “I was purposely wasting time because I was afraid to see Steve again after so many years, and I spent days at the museum trying to remember better who I was. I did remember most things about my family and my closest friends but not about myself. I didn’t know what I liked or what I was good at, I barely remembered my first name.” He cleared his throat.
“This happened before Steve found you in Bucharest?” You asked, trying to grasp the timeline of events. You brain was still processing everything he said earlier, forcing to remember even the smallest detail about that time.
“Yes.” He confirmed with a nod. “About one or two years before the whole mess with Zemo happened. You know, I’ll admit that I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched at the time. I thought it was just my paranoid ass, because I knew Hydra wouldn’t let me go without a fight and I was sure they’d try to find me. Still, for some reason, I wanted to convince myself I was truly free.”
“How did I find you?” You pressed.
“I have no idea.” He admitted with a shrug, as he glanced over at you. “All I know is that when I walked into the house I was staying in for the night, you were already inside… and then you said the trigger words. I tried to fight you, but it was in vain.”
“What trigger words?” Your confusion deepened. Why didn’t you remember?
“The ones they created to make me turn into the Winter Soldier.” He explained. “You really don’t remember? Or was I just another forgettable mission to you?”
“James.” You sighed, rising from the couch unable to stay still any longer. You didn’t even dare to meet his gaze, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place. “I truly don’t remember any of it, not even the smallest detail. The first time I remember meeting you was back at the Compound, I swear it.”
He watched you intently from his seat, a wave of realization washing over him. For the first time ever, he found himself actually trusting your words and he silently cursed himself for not discussing this with you sooner. If Hydra could erase his memories, why would they not do the same to you? Because at this point, that was the only explainable reason and it was a very credible one.
Standing up, he reached out and gently grabbed your arm, halting your apology-rambling. “Hey, hey.” He murmured, his voice soft yet firm. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?!” You echoed, disbelief coloring your tone. “How can you even - all this time, I thought you had some irrational grudge against me. I mean, not really irrational but I thought that you were just being a prick when in reality you had a valid reason. And I’m sorry, James, I really am.”
He looked into your eyes for a moment before speaking again. “I still need to apologize myself.” He insisted. “When Tony said we’d be having a new addition to the team rescued from Hydra, I was actually fine with it. After all Wanda and Pietro came from there too. The problem arrived when I saw it was you; I felt like bad memories I tried to bury resurfaced all of a sudden, and I couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were there to force me to go back. I stayed away from you and watched you from afar because for one year straight, I thought you were playing with all of us. The fact that you never apologized or spoke about what you did- what they made you do was proving my point. Now I realize I was acting like a child.”
You shook your head. “You were not.” You protested immediately. “If I were in your position, I would have done the same.”
“It still doesn’t make it any better.” He sighed.
“Believe me, now that I know I regret shit-talking you with Natasha.” You murmured in all seriousness.
“Yeah, it’s- you what?!”
“Nothing.” You cleared your throat. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” You apologized once again. Thousands of apologies wouldn’t cancel what you did, but you owed it to him.
“It’s… fine. Now let’s cut the sentimentalism, it’s getting awkward.” He said jokingly.
“So we’re good? No more snarky comments?” You raised a brow.
“We’ll see about that.” He inhaled deeply before answering. “Call me Bucky from now on, we can start from here.”
You smiled at that; it was his way of saying yes. As he was about to say something else, his hand on your arm still firm and gentle, the door swung open.
“Guys!” Dean bursted into the house in a rush, and his expression completely changed as soon as he saw both of you. “Look at the lovebirds. I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re ready to mingle?” He grinned, chuckling.
“We weren’t.” You quickly clarified, stepping back from Bucky as if to emphasize your point - not that you needed to, because that was the truth. Still. “Where’s Sam?”
“In the shed.” Dean replied, gesturing towards the door. “We found an hidden entrance but it’s stuck. We could use four extra hands… if you don’t mind me cockblocking you.” He added in a snort looking at Bucky, gaining a glare from the Super Soldier.
“We weren’t about to do anything.” He rolled his eyes. “And she isn’t coming. She might get sick again and you know why.”
“I’m not a child, that was just a moment. I’m fine now.” You retorted, shooting Bucky a pointed look. “And besides, we’re finally getting along so please don’t be a dick just yet.”
“If I may…” Dean interjected, stopping any further argument between the two of you. “We removed the symbols, so she should be fine. Now let’s stop the useless squabbling and let’s get that door open.” Dean walked out leaving the door open for both of you to follow him, and so you did.
“What symbols?” You frowned.
“I’ll explain later.”
As you stepped outside, a rush of cold air greeted you, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Bucky walked alongside you, keeping silently an eye on you in case you fell unconscious again, glancing at you from time to time without even being subtle about it.
You were feeling good, what you said earlier wasn’t a lie, but as you were descending the porch steps, you couldn’t help but feel slightly weaker and sick again as if there was something outside causing you that. Maybe it had something to do with those symbols Dean was talking about, but then again no one told you anything about it.
Following Dean’s lead, you made your way to the back of the house. With each step towards the shed, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the grass where you knew some women had been buried by that man.
Silently, you finally arrived inside the smelly, almost decaying shed. The lights were already on, revealing nothing more than empty stables and scattered straw all over the floor. Except for the fact that deep inside you, you could sense that something was off, there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.
“Down here.” Dean said, gesturing for both you and Bucky to walk down another set of stairs with him.
The lights flickered above your heads as you walked right behind the hunter, each step cracking under your weight. You gripped onto the wall for support since a few steps weren’t steady at all, mindful not to scrape yourself against it since the space was so small that you barely fit in.
At the bottom of the stairs stood Sam, both hands on his hips and a frustrated look on his face as he stared at the three of you. “I give up, I tried everything and it still won’t open.” He sighed, tossing the axe aside.
“Let me give it a shot.” Bucky offered, and at his words you and Dean shifted aside to make room for him. Bucky removed his usual black glove from his metal hand before pushing against the door with all his strength. Despite the efforts, the door remained shut.
“Can’t break it.” Bucky grumbled, stepping back to examine it all. Maybe he could punch it until he eventually created a hole big enough for them to peep inside, but as his eyes fell on the lock he quickly scoffed. “Of course I can’t, look at it.”
You leaned over Dean’s shoulder, squinting to see better from where you stood. At the view you rolled your eyes, of course the damn lock had to have Hydra’s symbol etched into the metal. It’s not like you were chasing idiots.
“What? It’s just a lock.” Dean raised a skeptical, not understanding fully.
“Made by Hydra.” You clarified, connecting some dots in the meantime. “So Malcom is involved too. I mean, this is his house, he lives alone so he must be part of the organization, right? These locks aren’t on the market for obvious reasons, and if he got his hands on one…” You trailed off.
“There must be something important in there.” Bucky deduced, nodding at your words. “Does anyone have a lighter?”
“A lighter? Why?” Sam asked with a frown.
“This isn’t a normal lock, without a key the only way to break it is using heat.” Bucky briefly explained. “So do we have one or not?”
“No need for it.” You stepped in, taking the lock in your hand.
“What are you doing?” Bucky’s puzzled expression mirrored those of the other two men.
You didn’t answer, as you held the lock tight in the palm of your hand. With a firm grip, you started doing your trick; soon enough, Bucky and the others watched in astonishment as the metal began to glow orange, and they quickly realized you were heating it up… with your bare hand.
You couldn’t help but smile as the melted metal fell to the floor with a squishy sound, and with a swift kick your swung the heavy door open.
“You’re not a witch, are you?” Dean asked after a moment of silence, watching as you walked into the dark room with absolutely nonchalance, fumbling for the light switch.
Before you could even catch a glimpse of the room you all were so curious about, you turned around to face them. “Not a witch, I was born with it.” You said proudly.
Bucky blinked a few times in disbelief, processing what he just witnessed. “You never mentioned anything about this with anyone, why?”
“Loki knows.” You shrugged. It wasn’t that you kept it hidden deliberately; you just never thought much of it. There were literal Gods and Sorcerers amongst the Avengers, and you never really thought your little trick was that important for them to know. After all, you couldn’t control fire - it was more of an innate ability than a skill you actively used. Or, at least, that’s what you always believed. Fire was a powerful weapon for you to just use it casually, it could cause more damages than not - and you had learnt your lesson with your experience with Hydra.
“Of course Loki knows.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “So that time you set the kitchen on fire…” He looked at you accusingly, the memory of the near catastrophe still fresh in his mind.
“Oh no, I really forgot the gas on that time.” You said clearing your throat at the memory, looking away from Bucky.
“All this trouble just for this? I expected some action.” Dean’s voice cut the silence as Bucky did not answer to your last statement, letting the previous conversation hanging - but he surely was going to ask a few questions later. He glanced one last time at the melted lock on the floor just to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. After that, he simply strode into the room.
The walls were bare, painted a dull gray and empty of any windows, but that was mainly because the room was built underground. In one corner sat a large, old trunk while a pretty modern desk with severals computers occupied the other area. The desk was quite the contrast to not only the rest of the room, but to the whole property too since the only thing you encountered were abandoned things. That looked brand new.
“Who was he? A gamer who killed women an in his free time when he was bored?” You ventured further into the room, your nose wrinkling at the sudden unpleasant smell.
“Which one of you pigs farted?” Dean asked immediately as the smell hit him too. “Because I sure as hell didn’t.”
“That was quite defensive, my man.” You grinned at him, enjoying his annoyed expression.
Sam grunted, stepping past you both. “For once he’s telling the truth. The smell is coming from here.” He knelt down beside the trunk, attempting to open it to no avail. It seemed like a key was required, and it started to feel more like an escape room than an investigation.
“Told you.” Dean shot you a smile, nudging your arm lightly as he joined his brother by the trunk.
You shook your head at him, a small smile playing on your lips too as you approached Bucky, who was struggling to turn on one of the computers. You knew he wasn’t exactly the type of man to know how to use modern technology, and understandably so. Sam Wilson did try to teach him how to at least take a selfie amongst other things, but it seemed that Bucky was content to remain ignorant of modern technology.
“Do you need assistance?” You offered with a grin, unfazed by the deadly glare he shot your way. His intimidation tactics had little effect on you, especially now that you and Bucky were finally finding some common ground to at least build some kind of friendship upon.
“No.” He grunted, stubbornly pushing buttons on the keyboard in a futile attempt to boot up the computer. It was clear he was getting nowhere, and he knew it. “Can you turn it on?” He asked, his defeated tone was music to your ears.
Suppressing a smirk, you pressed the button below the computer screen, and you both watched as the device came to life.
“You should really listen to Sam sometimes.” You teased, placing a hand on your hip as he shook his head.
“I’d rather die.”
You didn’t respond to Bucky’s remark, instead you focused on the gagging sound Dean let out. Turning to face the brothers, you saw them both recoiling from the trunk they managed to force open. A putrid stench filled the air, which was stronger than before, causing you to instinctively cover the lower part of your face with your hoodie to block out the smell.
“You don’t want to look inside.” Sam warned, stepping away from the trunk with a grim expression.
“Is it Malcom?” Bucky asked, his suspicion evident as he connected the smell to the possibility of a dead body.
But Dean shook his head in response. “I wish it was.” He muttered, following Sam’s steps. and putting some distance between him and the thing inside the object.
As per usual, curiosity got the best of you, and you approached the trunk and swung it open immediately agreeing with Sam’s assessment; you could have lived without seeing it.
Inside the trunk lay the corpse of the man you and Bucky had been searching for back at the cemetery. His body contorted in an unnatural position, all his bones were most likely broken and his red eyes were staring back lifelessly at you. It was a gruesome sight even for you, one that made you quickly shut the lid as soon as Bucky peered inside alongside you.
Turning back to face the brothers you spoke. “That’s the patient we were looking for. Red eyes, pointy teeth and pale skin are all the first symptoms of the transformation into a Wendigo - before it either kills you or not. His body was missing from the cemetery, and the night guard mentioned something about a stolen corpse.”
But Sam’s urgent tone drew all the attention away from the newfound hint. “Guys… I think we may have a problem.”
You watched as Sam moved aside to let you all see what he was so concerned about, and as you followed his gaze to the computer screen you immediately shared the same feelings. It was divided in two sections, one side displayed the house you and Bucky were using for the mission, while the other showed Sam’s and Dean’s house. The view offered a clear sight of both interiors, and as Sam turned up the volumes, you could hear your voices echoing through the speakers.
“The date is the day we arrived.” Bucky pointed out, indicating the timestamp. “So they must have known we were on the way, and nobody knew outside of the team and you two it.”
“Someone infiltrated SHIELD’s security.” You deduced, your eyes fixated on the screen as you watched yourself and Bucky enter your temporary home for the first time. “We need to trace Fury as soon as possible.”
Sam remained seated, focused on the tapes, while you and the two men remained in silence for a while, gathering your thoughts.
“Now we know for sure Malcom is involved.” Dean sighed. “Not that there was much to question before, but this is on a whole other level. I mean, of course we can’t find a proper lead; we talked about going to find some more clues to Mrs Miller’s house the other day and not even twenty-four hours later all evidence was taken from the house.”
“And Adam too.” You added quietly. “We talked about finding him… and now he’s gone.” You said, not denying that you felt guilty for it. There was no way you could have known, but you had been played and it had already cost a life. More than one, in reality.
“Fury doesn’t answer his calls, and we believe SHIELD’s security was compromised.” Bucky chimed in, a note of realization in his voice. “What if-”
“No.” You cut him off sharply, knowing what he was implying. “He’s not an idiot. He would have known something was wrong.” Despite your protest, deep down you knew Bucky was not wrong for thinking that.
“But you saw that.” Bucky persisted, gesturing to the videos. “The cameras were already there before we arrived, Emma.”
“Natasha would have called, or Steve, or Tony.” You said firmly.
Bucky nodded in agreement before releasing a resigned sigh. “But Fury also disappears sometimes without saying a word, so if this time he was taken for real they wouldn’t be alarmed.” He said. “We’ll give them a call as soon as we can, if Fury is in danger then so are them.”
“I found something else.” Sam interjected, once again capturing your full attention. “This one isn’t a recording, it’s live.” He declared.
You moved closer to him, with Dean and Bucky following suit, and you noticed the scenery on the screen had changed. Now it displayed Malcom’s yard, the same you and Bucky had entered from. Despite the darkness outside, the cameras were equipped with night vision which was quite expensive for someone who didn’t have a job that payed well, so you wondered how Malcom could have afforded it.
“Look at the recordings of today.” Dean suggested. “Maybe we can find out where the man is or something.”
Sam shook his head. “Already did, but they’ve been deleted. Everything’s wiped since Cassandra disappeared.” Sam revealed.
“This means Malcom was here just today, right? If today’s recordings are gone…” You suggested, before a question paved the way in your mind. “For how long has this been recording?”
Sam quickly checked the time, his frown deepening when he saw the timestamp. “Three hours.” He stated. “Me and Dean arrived four hours ago.”
“He was here the whole time.” Bucky realized, voicing what you all had been thinking. “He had the time to delete everything and run away while we were comfortably sitting on the couch inside like idiots.”
“There was a car parked outside, an orange one. If he used that to leave, we could catch him. I took a picture of the car tag.” Dean recalled, suddenly remembering a crucial detail.
“Then let’s go check.” You declared, already heading for the door. Not that you remembered any car except from the Impala when you arrived, but then again you fainted after five seconds.
“What about this stuff? There are a lot of recordings here. We might miss something important if we leave it behind.” Bucky pointed out, making you stop in your tracks.
“You two go see if the car is out there, it was parked on the right side of the house. We’re taking all this stuff back to my car.” Dean suggested, and both you and Bucky silently agreed.
The walk outside was silent, but for the first time ever empty of any tension you were used having between the two of you. This time, you were both sharing the same concerns about Fury. You weren’t sure if Bucky felt the same way about the boss, but Fury played an important role in your life, he helped you getting back on your feet after Hydra. The idea of him falling into the same hell he helped you out of angered you, to say the least.
As you approached the parked car, your frustration intensified; it was still right there, which only meant that Malcom had not used that as a getaway. This left you empty-handed once again.
“Great.” Bucky huffed, leaning against the car’s exterior as he peered inside. “We should check it, see if he left something.”
“You take the front, I’ll take the back.” You suggested.
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded in agreement, and you had to suppress a damn smile for the little nickname he used - but you shoved it off your face as soon as it came. It wasn’t the right moment nor the right person for you to blush over the smallest shit, you didn’t even recognize yourself anymore. Goddamnit.
While Bucky sifted through papers in the front seat, his expression was nothing more than just a frown. You, on the other hand, found absolutely nothing except for a red dog collar and a leash strewn on the ground, likely belonging to Malcom’s dog. Nothing out of the ordinary, oddly enough.
“He used to go to the salon a lot.” You heard Bucky say, as you prepared yourself to check the trunk. The rush of the escape might have left him unable to grab anything significant - or at least you hoped so.
“Maybe that’s where he found the women?” You suggested, as you walked behind the vehicle.
“Probably.” He agreed, his eyes flickered to you for a moment.
With the car left unlocked, you easily lifted the trunk’s lid. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared you for what you found inside. Despite the night’s twists, from the empty casket at the cemetery to the discovery that for all this time you had been watched, finding Cassandra there was beyond anything you could have imagined.
She was scared, bruised, tied up - but she was alive.
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His forever and ever
// Sneak peek two //
// Authors Note //
I’m a bit excited about the series so I thought I’m gonna share another sneak peek with you all. So here you are, hehe.
Sneak peek one
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The Malicious Daugter is Back! - Bucky Barnes
Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.
Chap 1, Chap 2 ,-
Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
It was supposed to be easy, but it's not.
He felt his hands and sensed they were shackled to this agreement. While everyone chatted and laughed at this lunch party, he couldn't share the same sentiment.
Today was the engagement party of two influential conglomerate families.
The daughter of Celestial Enterprises, which owned Luxury Goods, Smart Home Technology, Media & Entertainment, was Victoria Sinclair.
She was a strikingly beautiful woman, exuding an air of sophistication, yet there was a hint of maturity beneath her seemingly spoiled demeanor.
With a shy gesture, she reached out and gently touched her fiancé's hand. Her soft touch snapped him out of his daydream.
She gazed at his face, mesmerized by his striking features. He could easily be the most handsome man she had ever encountered in her life. Despite meeting countless models and actors, none of them held a candle to him.
Bucky Barnes was the epitome of sophistication. With his jet-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and impeccable suit, he exuded an aura of intelligence and quiet confidence.
As the heir to the AstraNova Group, specializing in aerospace, renewable energy, and real estate, his wealth and influence were undeniable.
He felt something creeping on his hands, he glanced down to see his fiancée Victoria touching him. Despite his discomfort, he clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lash out.
But he had to keep it together. Tonight, his psychiatrist would have to listen to his anxiety. He couldn't let anyone at this party know about his Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD).
He was overly sensitive to sensory input, including touch. In this room, only his parents knew about his disorder.
Bucky smiled and gently pushed Victoria's hand away from him. He could only tolerate it for five minutes. But it seemed this woman didn't understand him.
If she were just another woman, Bucky would have instructed his assistant to escort Victoria away. But he couldn't do that.
Because this woman was necessary, in fact. Her family's money was crucial. This was a business marriage. Bucky wasn't a social man, so when his family arranged the marriage, he complied with their wishes.
He thought he could go along with it, but his disorder acted up every time he got close to Victoria. She was glued to him.
"Fuck," he thought. He wished his parents had chosen a woman who preferred shopping over clinging to him.
"Look at this couple. Hohoho… Like newlyweds," remarked Victoria's mother, Genevieve, a woman around 50 years old, exuding opulence in her elegant gown adorned with intricate lace and jewels.
"What a joyful day," nodded Bucky's mother, Cassandra, a woman of similar age, dressed in a modest yet tasteful attire, her eyes fixed on her son who appeared calm. However, she couldn't help but notice Victoria's persistent touching.
She prayed that Bucky wouldn't lose his patience.
"By the way, where is the oldest daughter?" slipped one of the guests, causing a ripple of unease among the attendees.
Even Victoria lost interest in getting close to Bucky. She stopped leaning toward him and sat up straight.
Her silent expression mirrored Genevieve's, catching Bucky's attention.
This was the first Bucky had heard of another daughter.
“You have an older sister?” Bucky asked Victoria.
Victoria responded with a nervous voice, “I do... She's... how should I say this? She's complicated. She's never at home. And when she is, all we do is fight.”
Bucky nodded, understanding her explanation. An estranged sister.
But he had never come across any mention of this in his fiancée's family background.
Were they hiding their other daughter? An illegitimate child?
Bucky noticed Victoria's father, Jonathan, a distinguished man in his sixties, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, who had stopped drinking and focused his attention on the table.
Genevieve laughed elegantly and remarked, “Haha… She doesn't enjoy these kinds of events. She prefers outdoor activities.”
On the first day of their engagement, Bucky found himself embroiled in family drama.
Then, a voice from outside could be heard, “I'm sorry, miss. This room has been booked,” said the security.
“It's booked for Sinclair and Barnes, right? What a coincidence. I'm a Sinclair too,” a playful female voice retorted.
‘BANG.’
The private door burst open from a forceful kick, startling the guests.
All eyes turned toward the newcomer.
Even Bucky turned around to see who it was.
She was wearing black leather boots, black pants, and a gray turtleneck sweater. Her attire stood out starkly against the elegance of the room.
She looked at everyone, then stopped at Victoria and Bucky. Then she scoffed, causing Victoria to clench her fist and bite her lips.
Compares to Bucky. He wondered what had happened to her. She was wearing a hand cast, a band-aid under her right eye, and small new scars under her lips.
Two things he realized were that her demeanor and facial features were different from Victoria's.
Victoria nervously laughed, "We thought you wouldn't come."
💋💋💋
You smirked and grabbed a glass of wine from the server who was serving drinks.
With a bow, you said, “Congrats on the engagement. Pardon my lateness. Seems like a rat ate your invitation.”
Victoria forced a smile, determined not to take the bait, especially in front of her fiancé, Bucky, to avoid any confrontation.
You walked past the couple and headed towards your father, Jonathan.
He showed no reaction, simply sipping his wine.
Standing beside him, you didn't even glance at Genevieve, who gritted her teeth, continuing to smile at the Barnes family.
You said to your dad, “Is this what your wife asked for? I must say I'm impressed.”
Bucky was taken aback when he heard that. What did it mean?
Genevieve gripped her wine glass tightly. The stories of her as ‘the other woman’ were in the past. She had worked hard to be accepted in this socialite world, and it had made everyone forget that she was the second wife. Everyone had called her Madam Sinclair, and Victoria the only daughter.
You shrugged your shoulders. “I'm just impressed that my sister could join the Barnes household. She didn't have to steal someone's husband like her mom.”
Victoria gasped and started sobbing.
Genevieve exclaimed, “How could you make your sister cry?”
You drank the wine in one gulp and put the empty glass on the table. “I want to vomit when I call her my sister. I need that wine to clean my tongue.”
Genevieve looked at her husband and whispered, “Jonathan, stop your daughter.”
You looked at your father, who was also looking at you, both of you silent. This is the relationship between father and daughter. Both of you used to be close, but everything changed after the other woman entered the family.
He won't say anything. He never does.
Turning to the new couple, you observed Victoria drinking water and her fiancé Bucky.
You didn't know much about him. What an unlucky man, you thought.
Walking towards him, you stopped in front of Bucky.
Bucky was looking at you too.
You said, “She throws away everything that I own or touch. I wonder…”
Your fingers touched his chin, and your face came close to his. You could see his eyes clearly.
You smirked and said, “I wonder if she still wants you after I do this.”
What you did next made everyone gasp.
Victoria screamed, “Get your lips away from him,” as she pushed you away from Bucky, acting as a barrier.
You wiped your lips, achieving your goal of seeing Victoria panicked.
With a salute gesture, you said, “I've got what I wanted. Goodbye, everyone,” and left the party.
Victoria grumbled, looking at Bucky and touching his hand. “Are you okay? I'm sorry. If you're mad at my sister, I apologize.”
Bucky pushed her away from him, his action shocking her slightly, but understandable since he had just been kissed by a stranger.
Bucky remained silent, not because he was angry, but because he had a million questions.
His disorder prevented him from being touched by someone, and yet he had just been kissed.
This is also his first kiss.
And... he didn't vomit.
Bucky looked at the closing door, wondering where you had gone.
He knew he had to see you again.
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CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)
Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering.
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Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard.
You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting.
“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-
“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?”
“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off.
“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark.
Which was a mess in itself.
You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour.
“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now.
You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more.
“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair.
“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you.
“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.
“Y/n”
You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks.
“Y/n”
Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself.
“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs
“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues.
“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”
“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day.
In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week.
Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault.
He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning.
You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness.
You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out.
“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”
“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze.
“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you”
“I shouldn’t have messed u-
“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips.
“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.
“What did you miss”
“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?”
“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch.
You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips.
“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off.
“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection.
“Please what, sweets”
“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out.
“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds.
“Sir, pleasee”
“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”
He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing.
“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream”
“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait.
“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me”
Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel.
“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you.
“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again.
“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE
“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls.
“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings.
“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed.
“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand.
“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl”
#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky x you#bucky x smut#bucky x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky x Female Reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x fluff#James Buchanan Bucky Barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#ceo bucky#ceo!bucky#ceo bucky barnes#ceo bucky smut#ceo bucky barnes smut#ceo bucky x secretary reader#bucky x secretary#bucky barnes imagine#bucky imagine#bucky fanfic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fan fic#bucky barnes fanfiction
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cry baby | chapter eleven
Summary: “You’re the heart of the family, Sweetheart.”
Warning: Fluff. Crying, it's Cry Baby after all.
Word Count: 1572
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A/N: I'm so so so sorry. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10
About a week passed since the latest bar incident, and life had slowly begun to return to normal. Rumlow wasn’t embarrassed to show his face around the bar anymore and everyone stopped staring at you and whispering when you walked in.
Tonight, you decided to head back to the bar again. The familiar establishment was filled with the usual crowds, creating a lively atmosphere. Your friends greeted you with warm smiles and hugs.
The conversation flowed easily, yet as the night went on, you began to notice once again that everyone in your friendship group was wearing their matching ‘Avengers’ leather jackets. You hadn’t gotten one, and it always made you feel a bit left out, a pang of sadness tugged at your heart.
Bucky was the first to notice the sudden shift in your demeanor. “Something on your mind?” he asked, his knee nudged against yours gently under the table.
You hesitated, looking up at him. “It’s silly, really,” you paused, taking a deep breath. “But, I can’t help feeling a bit… left out, I guess.”
He furrowed his brow, concern flickered in his eyes. “Left out? Why?”
You glanced up toward the ceiling, trying to stop the tears from flowing, you felt foolish for even having these thoughts never mind speaking them. “It’s just… you’re wearing your jackets, and I don’t have one. At least, not my own.”
“That’s not silly,” Bucky replied. He reached his hand under the table, rubbing his thumb over the exposed skin of your thigh. “I get it, you want it to look like you’re apart of the group, not just seen with us?”
You met his gaze, giving him a small nod. He squeezed your thigh while sending you a smile. “Well, then. I think I have a solution.”
Before you could respond, he stood up and shrugged the jacket off his shoulders. “Here,” he said, holding it out to you. “Now you match.”
You shook your head, surprised by his gesture. “Bucky, I can’t take your jacket.”
He hesitated for a short moment, disappointment flashed over his eyes before he shook his head back at you. “Consider it a loan, just until we get you one of your own.”
You held up your pinky finger, forgetting where you both were for a moment. Your pinky promises had never happened in front of anyone else but each other. Only ever in your apartment, never in public.
Yet, his pinky finger tangled itself with yours. “Thank you,” you said softly, accepting the jacket and draping it over your shoulders. That familiar scent envelops you, like a protective embrace.
“Anything for you, Sweetheart,” he said, widening his smile before taking a sip of his beer. As he did, his muscles became defined by the dim light of the bar. Shadows cast over them, accentuating their contours. You found yourself gazing at his arms for a lingering moment, as though you were seeing them for the first time.
~
A couple of days later, as you were getting ready for an evening at home, you heard a knock on your door. You stopped what you were doing instantly, opening the door slightly to see who it was. No one was there, yet you found a small wooden box sitting on the doormat. Intrigued, you picked it up and examined it closely.
The box was beautifully crafted, with familiar delicate cravings adoring the cedar. You traced your fingers over the patterns. Inside the box, there was a note attached to a wrapped parcel, written in Bucky’s handwriting.
Opening the note, you read it carefully. It simply said, “You’re the heart of the family, Sweetheart.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you kept rereading the note. It was a simple message, but it meant more to you than your emotions could let you express. With a shaky breath, you unwrapped the parcel and found a soft, cozy, pastel pink cardigan neatly folded.
As you inspect the cardigan, you notice the patches on the back, taking your breath away.
You ran your fingers over the embroidered designs, tracing the outline of each patch: the Avengers logo, that you sketched years before, and your initials. The tears that were previously welling now spilled down your cheeks.
With trembling hands, you reached for your phone and pressed Bucky’s name. As the call connected, his face appeared on the screen, immediately softening when he saw you.
“What’s wrong, Sweetheart?” his voice filled with concern as he noticed your puffy eyes and flushed cheeks.
“I just…” you tried to find your words between hiccups. “I just wanted to… I wanted to thank you for the cardigan. It’s… it’s perfect.”
Relief washed over his face, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’m glad you like it,” he said softly. “I thought you’d feel more comfortable with a cardigan than a leather.”
Looking at him through the screen, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat.
You took a deep breath after the call with Bucky ended, taking the note, you made your way to the kitchen. Carefully you attached the note to the door of your fridge. It felt like an important reminder.
Stepping back to admire the note, you wrapped the cardigan tighter around you.
~
A few days later, you were settling into your nightly routine, getting ready for bed, before another knock at your door. You hesitated to answer it, yet another knock came with a ‘It’s me,’ mumbling behind the door.
Answering it, you found Bucky standing on the other side, looking worse for wear again.
“Dare I ask?” you asked, making room for him to enter as concern filled your eyes and a small frown tugged at your lips.
He shook his head as he made his way to his usual seat at your dining table. “Just a little scrap, nothing serious,” he replied, giving you a weak smile.
You weren’t convinced, it was never just ‘a little scrap’ when Bucky was concerned. “Let me take a look,” you insisted as you made your way into the kitchen to fetch your first aid kit.
As you worked on tending to his wounds, cleaning and bandaging his knuckles, his gaze froze and fixated on something behind you. “Wait, who is this?” he asked, his voice filled with confusion as he stood, making his way over to where he had looked.
You turned to see what he was looking at, you blinked feeling a rush of guilt wash over you.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about?” you said, trying to play it cool as you reached out to take the tiny white kitten from his arms.
He raised an eyebrow at you, his expression skeptical. He moved the kitten out of your reach. “Sweetheart, the cat? The cat I am very clearly holding…” he trailed off, his eyes narrowed at you.
“There’s no cat here, Bucky,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face. And, still trying to reach the kitten.
Bucky started at you for a moment, an unreadable expression over his features. “Are you okay?” he asked, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.
You glanced around nervously, a pang of guilt rushed through you for keeping the truth from him. “I, um, I’m not allowed to have pets here, but I couldn’t say no to her…” you whispered in a rush.
His eyes softened. “You are the sweetest thing,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “But, wait… does that mean? Little Miss Rogers… the cities Cry Baby… my Sweetheart? Are you breaking a rule?” he added with a mocking gasp and a teasing tone.
You nodded sheepishly, a flush of heat creeping up your cheeks. “I know, I know,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. “I couldn't just leave her.”
Bucky shook his head, “Well, I won’t tell if you don’t,” he admitted, the hand he wasn’t using to hold the kitten reaching out to cup your cheek.
~
As the night began and ran into the early morning, you and Bucky found yourselves lost in conversation, the kitten purring between the pair of you on the couch. Amidst the laughter and the warmth of each other’s presence, there was a subtle shift in the air.
Bucky tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered as he looked at you, the way your glossy eyes sparkled with excitement over any small gesture the kitten did. He couldn’t deny the surge of affection washing over him, he had an overwhelming urge to reach out and pull your face toward his.
He wanted to hold onto this moment, but he knew he couldn’t. As painful as it was to admit to himself, he knew he had to leave.
Bucky stood up from the couch, forcing a smile as he tried to hide the rage inside him. “It’s getting late,” he said softly, “I should probably head home.”
Confusion and a hint of sadness flickered across your face, you assumed he would have been spending the night at your apartment, like the majority of the nights recently. “Oh, okay… I guess you’re right,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
As he made his way to your door, he paused a moment of hesitation before turning back to look at you. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
You smiled weakly, a lump forming in your throat as you watched him leave. “Goodnight, Bucky.”
---
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