Bucky X Female Reader - Blog Posts

Marvel Masterlist

✭ - smut

♡ - fluff

➳ - angst

۵ - hurt/comfort

°

Bucky Barnes

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

Young Romanoff - Natasha's sister has to train with none other than the Hydra's most precious soldier as a part of the Black Widow Program. [➳]

Younger Romanoff | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x widow!Romanoff!reader

Summary: Natasha's sister has to train with none other than the Hydra's most precious soldier as a part of the Black Widow Program.

Warning/s: fighting, blood, wounds, death, maybe a curse word?? I guess? Think that's it?

Author's note: Hii! :) This is my first Tumblr post (new to this). So please go easy on me. Enjoy!

You could literally feel the sweat running down your back underneath your suit as you took the seat next to your older sister Natasha. You knew that you should have no reason to be nervous at all, but you couldn't stop the bad feeling creeping in since the moment you opened your eyes that very morning.

Today was the day when the Windows were supposed to have a rather brutal training. But that wasn't the worst or unusual part. That training was supposed to be held not only by the Red Room, but by Hydra, too. The trainers in the Red Room had gathered all of the Widows to train with the Hydra's strongest soldier. The Winter Soldier. Just the thought of his name made you shiver.

You had a very bad feeling that even your status as the Widow couldn't push away. You were proven right the moment that the door of the training room slammed open, and your sister, the rest of the Widows in the waiting room and you looked up. One of the trainers was walking out of the room. But she wasn't alone. Behind her, she was dragging a poor beaten up Widow. She seemed like she was barely breathing. All of the Widows watched in silence as the first Widow of this training was dragged away God knows where. Natasha and you shared a look. You didn't say anything, but you both agreed that this was going to be a long day.

It was already dark outside as you watched the Widows go inside the training room. Some of them coming out of it alive, but badly beaten. Some of them weren't so lucky. Pretty soon you watched as Natasha got out of the training room, took her towel, pressed it into her bruised face, exchanged a few words with you and leave to go to her room. A few second passed and you heard your name being called out with a sharp, but clear voice.

"Y/N Romanoff!"

You stood up like a robot, wiped your hands with your training suit and started to walk over towards the training room door. This was it. Either you come out alive or you die trying. One or the other. As you walked into the room and the door closed behind you, you took in your surroundings. In front of you was placed a boxing ring, only you knew the two of you wouldn't be boxing. That one was for sure. You looked to your right and saw a bunch of your trainers and Hydra agents murmuring among themselves.

"Y/N, step in the middle of the ring." Anastassia, your own trainer said as she handed you a small pocket knife. As you did so you heard them talk behind you.

"Y/N Romanoff. Her sister is Natasha Romanoff. A girl that was here before her. The two of them have the highest score in the Black Widow Program."

"We shall see in a moment."

You felt a shiver going down your spine as one of the Hydra's agents uttered those words.

"Y/N Romanoff. Meet The Winter Soldier."

You looked to your left and that's when you saw him. His piercing black eyes full of hatred were looking at the Hydra's agent as he sat on a chair in the dark corner of the room. He suddenly stood up as the agent ordered him to do so. He started to walk up to you towards the ring, however, he still didn't look you in the eyes. That's why you still couldn't really see his eyes properly. Your hard gaze followed him around the room as he got closer to you. When he finally stepped over the wire and into the ring, you noticed that he was given the same little pocket knife as you were.

"Y/N Romanoff. Winter Soldier. Fight."

That's when he looked you back in the eyes. For a moment you were frozen in shock, you could tell that he was, too. Your knees buckled as you watched soldier's eyes soften a little as a small frown was placed on his oddly perfect face without the mask this time. You somehow were charmed by him. You couldn't help but feel like your breath was stolen away from you as his piercing eyes were looking at you with some kind of interest. Interest in what? You could easily tell that he was, too, shocked by his sudden capability to experience any sort of emotion other than emptiness and hatred whatsoever. But you knew that you had to snap out of it before he got into his normal self. So you did.

You landed the first punch and that's when he came to. He started to throw punches back as the Red Room trainers and the Hydra's agents were watching your every single move closely. Just as you were about to throw the next hit, the Winter Soldier, cut your cheek with the knife. You hissed a little and glared angrily at him. If he wanted to play dirty, so could you.

At the end of the training you got your ticket out of the training room, that much was clear. You had to admit, he was a rough opponent. He was quick, clever and very strong. This fight was a big challenge and you just know fully understood why some of the Widows didn't make it. As you gave the pocket knife back to your trainer you could truly feel the soreness in your whole body. You had a few bruises and a big cut on your cheek ashoulderder, but you feltsensence of accomplishment as you knew that you got the Hydra's soldier pretty good, too.

He was hissing angrily as he took the towel from some Hydra's agent. He had a giant slush over his chest, a bruised jaw and a little cut on his chin. You turned around, away from his gaze, as you continued to speak to the Hydra's agents and The Red Room trainers that were asking you all sorts of questions. You felt piercing eyes on the back of your head the entire time. You knew were well to whom they belonged to. But you couldn't make yourself turn around. After you were dismissed you turned around and practically ran out of the training room. You just couldn't wait to escape the torture you just went through. But not only physical torture, but emotional torture, too.

You found yourself all alone as you walked out of the room whose door was slammed shut behind you. You looked out of the small window of the waiting room and you saw that it was pure dark outside. You quietly sighed to yourself as you made your way to the showers. As you relaxed in the shower, put on some fresh clothes and took care of the bruises and cuts you made your way over to your dorm room.

But what you didn't expect was to be showed in the dark corner of the hallway. You couldn't even let out a quiet gasp as your mouth was suddenly covered by a cold metal arm. You felt yourself freeze in shock as you realized who it was.

"Успокойся, вдова." (Calm down, Widow.) He hissed at you quietly, his breath hot on your face.

You nodded, not saying a word because you knew that there was no way out of this one. You didn't know why you were acting like this. You were a Widow for crying out loud. You are strong, intelligent and full of undying fire in your heart. You couldn't understand why you were letting yourself be ordered around by the Winter Soldier like some rag doll. But at the same time you had to admit that he was very intimidating at the moment since his other arm was placed on the wall next to your head.

This position made him look twice taller than you. He slowly put his metal hand away from your mouth as you took s breath in. You leaned yourself against the wall, one foot placed on the wall behind you, crossing your arms as you looked at the soldier's a little bit soft and confused eyes. You looked him straight in the eyes, your gaze, trying to be strong and full of confidence.

"Чего ты хочешь, Солдат?" (What do you want, Soldier?)

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TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!

'' flower shop of new feelings ,,

[ 06 : bad feeling ]

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

|| warning : nothing !... maybe

|| wc : 1.1k (real short , sorry gang )

Ever since Peter agreed to hide Bucky’s secret friend, again he still didn’t get why he was hiding you, but he was getting 20 bucks richer every week! He wasn’t going to complain. But, as said before, ever since he’d been sworn to secrecy, Bucky and him have been talking more.

Or, an alternative way of saying it, Peter’s been annoying Bucky a bunch.

“When’d you even meet them?” Again, asking about you.

“Clint’s birthday.”

“Really? I didn’t see ‘em”

“Got his birthday gift from them.”

“Ohhh, you’re the one who got Mr. Barton the flowers!” Peter snapped his fingers and had a wide grin tugging at his lips. “Wait, so.. You’ve known them for 3 months??”

Bucky bit back a small sigh as he grabbed a weight and started to do his usual work out routine as he hummed in response, a confirmation of sorts.

“Then why haven’t you introdu–”

“Peter.” He shot a small glare at the teenager, his eyebrow twitched for a moment. “If you wanna know more, you could just ask them.”

Peter huffed and picked up a weight as well, imitating whatever Bucky was doing. “Well, I want to, but every night they come home from work they look EXHAUSTED. I mean, you’d think running a flower shop’s not all too bad, but I mean you should really see them!”

“Okay, then ask them over text.”

“.. I don’t have their number, only Aunt May does.”

“Then ask your aunt.”

“But you’re right here!”

“And you live with your aunt, what’s your point?”

“Well-” Peter cut himself off before sighing. Fiddling around with the weight in his hand. “I mean, I don’t wanna ask Aunt May, she’ll tell them I asked then it’ll be awkward.”

“What if I tell them?”

“I know you won’t!”

“And why is that, exactly?” Bucky put down the weight and raised their eyebrow in confusion. As well as some curiosity. Bucky is like a lock, only one key can unlock his secrets, and that key is rusted, dusted and thrown away to the deepest dark of the ocean.

“‘cause then they’ll know you talk about them, and you have a crush on them.”

…

At that moment it was as if Bucky was frozen in ice again. He didn’t dare even take a breath. A crush? First of all, what are they? Kindergarteners, why call it a crush? Second of all.. NO. What?! He does not have a crush on you! That’s actual crazy talk. You’re just a friend, like- like Steve, but not like Steve.

“That’s false.” was all he could utter out before trudging over to the next things he used for his workouts.

“Whaaatt? But.. What??” Peter put the weight down and followed Bucky, as if he were his mama duck. Haha, Ducky-Bucky. “You hide them for 3 months, from what I hear from Mr. Wilson, you stay out longer than usual ‘cause of them a-and you pay me not to tell anyone about them.”

“Because I know how much everyone gossips, Peter. Now buzz off. I need t’get ready for a mission.”

“Awh, man.” Peter scratched the back of his neck and sighed dramatically as he started to walk away, like a kicked puppy. “You’re lucky Mr. Stark told me I had to do some extra assignment, or else I’d be here asking you all about [Name].”

“Yeah, yeah, get outta here, punk.” He muttered, almost as if saying it to no one. As much as he tolerated Peter more than some of the other Avengers, he still needed his me time. People were tiring, Especially these people.

–

It was as if time had barely passed yet stayed still at the same time. Bucky, Natasha, Sam and Wanda were on the Quinjet as of right now. Man, how he’d wish to God he was back home. Look, he respected everyone on the plane. Sam wasn’t someone Bucky’d go out of his way to hang out on a regular, but he likes him better than Tony. Natasha and Wanda, he saw the two as someone he could sort of relate to. Natasha being a part of Hydra and a trained assassin for them unwillingly, and Wanda was an experiment for Hydra.

Small comrodaries in trauma.

All things considered though, he’d be doing anything but being on this flight. All that the four would do was beat up some people, find intel on some enhanced people they’d gotten a tip about, and figure out if they’re a danger or not.

Thinking about that wasn’t what Bucky was preoccupied with though, no. His thumbs were occupied by texting you. Thankfully, the quinjet was big enough for him to text in his own corner of the aircraft.

florist : we can have a movie night, my place if you want! when you get back?

james : only if you want to.

florist : i’ll provide the snacks if you pick the movie <3

That stupid looking heart did wonders on his heart.

james : how about a comedy?

florist : my, my james! i didn’t think you’d want a comedy! with how stoic you act all the time LMAO

james : even i need a laugh sometimes.

The main reason was ‘cause he wanted to hear your laugh.

“Prepare for landing, gang!” Natasha yelled to the group. Oh, great, mission starting soon. Bucky stood up from the metal flooring of the quinjet and shot you one last text before powering his phone off:

james : mission time. i’ll text you when i’m back.

–

You stared at the text on your screen for what felt like ages. You didn’t know why, but that text made you feel.. Anxious. Worried, all the bad feelings. Sure, Bucky was a super soldier AND an Avenger.. But you knew of the dangers, of the threats. He’s still only human.

But, you pushed your emotions aside and texted back, even though you knew he wouldn’t get it back until after the mission.

florist : goodluck, james. <3

Okay. Before we start, yes.. You may have a small, itty bitty, miniscule, super insignificant crush on Bucky. I mean, who doesn’t? He’s tall, muscular, and a quiet giant. And he actually LISTENED to you. He liked to listen to your yaps, and when you think it doesn’t get better, IT DOES! Because he actually remembers the details.

Bucky’s sweet, patient and kind. Despite the rough edges, he’s a good person. Even if he didn’t think that.

A small sigh left your lips as you clicked your television on and started to drift asleep,letting your anxieties and worries melt away with the old British narrator guy talking about “the three toed sloths” on the tv. Your dreams consisted of darkness, flowers, and warmth.

You were calm in your voided dreams, unaware of what the hell was going on with James.

|| smiles deviously, deviously smiles !!

taglist : @iyskgd , @highhopes1008

'' flower shop of new feelings ,,

[ 05 : run ]

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

|| warning : nothing ! jealous bucky makes a brief entrance 🔥

|| wc : 2.1k

|| btw, if any of ya'll wanna be apart of the taglist, js comment :3 or dm idc <3

The Avengers Tower’s atmosphere was awkward. Like, a weird tense awkwardness. Clint, Wanda, Sam and Bruce got back from their mission which.. Did not go according to plan, and were already bummed out with that, despite there being a backup plan. Tony had a fight with Pepper, yet again, which let’s be real, no one’s surprised about. And last but certainly not least, Peter had seen Bucky leave your apartment the previous night.

I would love to say that Bucky did a graceful job at covering for himself and explaining it.. But that’d be a lie. The second Peter uttered the words “Mr. Barnes?” Bucky ignored him and sped walk outta there. But being an Avenger, and having Peter practically live in the Tower made it virtually impossible NOT to run into him at least once.

“It’s not that big a deal, James, I promise.” You said, your phone pressed against your ear and shoulder. Currently, you were out checking on your shop and running a few errands. That’s when Bucky called and told you the whole ordeal after you shut the door. “I really don’t see how it’s such a big deal. Just explain to Peter that we’re friends.”

But I don’t want to. He thought, I want you as my secret. As strange as it is, you were one of the only things he felt he had that wasn’t poisoned by Hydra or the Avengers. He loved the Avengers (.. sorta) but he needed to have something that was his.

“Yeah, okay. Okay. Just- the team can be.. Unbearable with gossip.” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry for calling you ‘bout this”

“Hey, no, I get that. You don’t gotta explain why you freaked out about Peter,” Your voice was full of understanding. Oh, god, Bucky absolutely loves- no. No, no no. “Oh, and never apologize for talking to me, I love talking to you”

“Oh,” He felt his cheeks warm up. “I like talking to you too.”

A small laugh could be heard from your end of the line, god, he could melt with how warm your laugh was.

“Hey, I gotta head off, I’m meeting up with my brother and his wife for a small get together, but I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay?”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, I thought I told you ‘bout him! His name’s Silas? He’s a pretentious fuck. Love him to bits, but I don’t like him, y’know?” This made Bucky let out a small chuckle. He had remembered a past conversation of yours where you rambled on about how your older brother was the golden child in your family.

“Good luck with him, [Name]”

“Thanks, James, I’ll call you later”

“Bye” He tried to hide his disappointment in his voice before hanging up. Man, what were you doing to him? He’s a lone wolf, never likes anyone, always grumpy, and rarely smiles. But with you? Seemed like he was the jolliest guy on Earth.

Ah, but he can sort out his feelings later. Right now he needed to talk with a certain Peter Parker.

–

“D-Did you need something, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky was quick to find the spiderling, he was up in the lab with Bruce. Tinkering away at some sort of more protective type of suit, trying to replicate vibranium without using vibranium. He made up some bullshit excuse for why he needed to talk with Peter, even if Bruce knew it was a lie, he didn’t fight it.

“What you saw last night–”

“You leaving [Name]’s apartment last night?”

Bucky’s eyebrow twitched, god the way he said it felt like he was caught in an affair. “Yes. That. It was nothing.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Barnes, but if it was nothing, why’d you run away?”

“I didn’t run away,” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the teenager. “It was.. A strategic retreat.”

Peter deadpanned. “Mr. Barnes, I don’t care if you’re dating-”

“We’re not dating.”

“Oh.” Peter sighed and snapped his fingers. “I owe Aunt May 20 bucks now.”

“Maybe you deserve it.” Bucky sighed and tapped his finger against his arm. “Look, just.. Don’t tell anyone I’m friends with [Name].”

Now.. This is where Bucky lost Peter. Why? What?? It was a strange request. A doable one! But a real strange one. “W.. Why?”

“Because Sam’ll bring it up non-stop and I’ll get teased.” It wasn't a lie, but again, not the full reason he wanted to hide you away from the team.

Peter’s puzzled look turned into a more sinister one. “I won’t tell anyone.. But I want you to give me 20 bucks every week I gotta keep your secret”

“Wha- fine. Yeah sure.” Wasn’t like Bucky had anything to spend it on. “If you tell anyone, I’m ripping your arms off.” He said with a small glare before turning away and walking off.

“.. Arms plural? Wait! Mr. Barnes! Arms plural??”

–

With that small confrontation over, Bucky was able to rest easy. Sure, he’d lose a couple of bucks, but really it was Tony who was throwing his money around. I mean, let’s think about it. So many people live in one tower, with electricity running practically everything. The electricity, water and heating bill must be skyrocketed. Ah, but that wasn’t our dear Bucky’s problem.

No, Bucky had to sort through his feelings and try to label your friendship. So he did the one thing that allowed him to feel.. Better, run.

Leaving the Tower was easy enough, being the “Winter Soldier” made it so everyone was automatically scared of him. Slipping away was easy, what was a problem was where he wanted to run. He let his legs take him.

The wind in his hair, the small burn in his legs as he ran farther and farther. His heart rate beating every time he was able to run longer and faster due since there weren’t many people around or stops. Bucky loved to run. He would run all day if he could, it felt like freedom to him. Something he wouldn’t let anyone take from him.

Bucky ran around a few blocks multiple times, by the end of it his face was damp, but not as sweaty as the normal person would be. Again, Super Soldier. Barely got tired. But, he still wanted to get something to hydrate himself. He sped walked over to that one Cafe that was across from your shop, your friend Finn ran it? At least, that’s what you told him. Maybe he could visit you af–

“James?”

Or now. It seemed you were taking your lunch break or something, ‘cause you were standing at the counter. Leaning against the solid surface, talking with Finn. And for some reason, that made a pit form in Bucky’s stomach. But, like many things, he ignored it and walked over to you, giving a small wave to you and.. Finn.

“Hey man, you want anything?” Finn had a charming smile on his face, he seemed.. Boyish. Certainly younger than Bucky, I mean, he looked like he was in his mid-twenties, younger than you.

“Black coffee.”

You snorted and tilted your head up at him. “No cream or sugar? Pegged you for a sweet guy”

The corners of Bucky’s lips perked up for a moment and he just huffed. “Got used to it.” He did, as a young adult and the war happening, everyone had to ration. That meant when he had coffee, it had to be black. None of the fancy sweeteners.

“Boring,” You hit your hip against his in a playful manner.

In a matter of seconds, Finn came back with Bucky’s drink. Some shitty ass black coffee that was overpriced. Ah, love New York. Though, it was fine. What wasn’t fine was how Finn just kept smiling and practically flirting with you.

“We should definitely go together, it’d be really fun, hell I could pay for your ticket too.”

“Finn, you shouldn’t, I’d be able to!” You giggled behind your palm. “But, I’m not opposed to that”

“We could get dinner, hangout beforehand too?”

Smooth. “I’ll definitely think about it, Finn”

Stealing a quick glance at Bucky, you realized his confusion. “Ah, me and Finn were talking about watching a musical together!”

“Which one?”

“The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals!”

“That’s a thing?”

“It’s definitely a thing.” You crossed your arms with a wide smile. “It’s really good! I should show it to you, there’s a recorded version of it up on Youtube.”

He hummed in reply and gave a lazy shrug. “You’ll have to send me a link to it.”

With a small check of your watch you took in a sharp inhale. “Shit, sorry guys, my breaks almost over, Bye Finn! Bye James!”

“I’ll walk you t’your shop.”

Now this you wouldn’t pass up on. You turned back and gave a small wave to Finn as you and James walked out. The second you felt a wave of fresh air roll on you, Bucky put his arm around your shoulder. A small smile tugged on your face as our eyebrow raised. “What’cha thinkin, big guy?”

“.. There’s a lotta cars.” He muttered. The both of you were standing side by side, he was walking on the outer edge of the sidewalk while you walked on the inner. Something you didn’t even realize.

“Such a gentleman, ey, James?”

He glanced over to you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he held you close. You didn’t mind it, didn’t mind that he was warm, didn’t mind when his grip on you tightened when crossing the street, didn’t mind the momentary lingering he had before pulling away from you when you got to the shop.

“Thanks for walking me!” You pushed open the door and grabbed your apron as Bucky stood in the doorframe. He wanted to stay longer, but he didn’t want to distract you as you worked.

He nodded to your thanks and looked around the shop. It still smelled like a garden, everything still felt humid. Everything was still the same. The flowers were in neat rows but they still perfectly transitioned into one another, the small rotating seed holder was still fully stocked. You talked about how people would grab the seeds and buy them, bunches at a time, but you never let it look like that. Always wanted it to be full, just in case.

“On the house.” Shit, he didn’t even realize you were behind him. What great assassin skills guys, real good. You had a hydrangea in your hand. “It’s blue, like your eyes.”

A few beats of silence settled between you two. Bucky just stared at you as your face got increasingly hot.

“T-That was stupid! I dunno why I did that, uh- it’s just what I like to do with friends, give ‘em flowers on the house I-” He cut you off by taking the flower from your hand, all gently and he quietly examined it.

“It’s real pretty.” He muttered and held it close to his chest. “Thanks, [Name].”

“You’re welcome! I-”

Again, you were cut off, not by Bucky, but by his phone. He muttered a small curse and a “sorry” before walking a few feet away. As much as you’d love not to eavesdrop.. IT WAS SO EASY. Not like you had much to work with.

“Mhm… No, I’m out right now,went on a run.. No, I didn’t see Sam… You can tell him to suck it up. I’m not–” He groaned and stayed quiet as the other person on the line kept speaking. “I’m not- just ‘cause they screwed up shouldn’t mean-.. Ugh. Fine, you’re the captain, punk.. Yeah yeah, I’ll be back soon.”

With that he hung up the phone, glaring at it as if it just cursed everyone in his family line.

“Sorry for that, doll, it was work. Turns out next time Sam and the idiots go out, I have to go with them ‘cause they can’t do shit.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, calming himself before he spoke up again. “I gotta go, but I’ll text you.”

“Goodluck with uh, Sam and the idiots.” It wasn’t funny, Bucky was genuinely ticked off, but you couldn’t help but giggle. Thankfully, that seemed to ease some of his tension. His shoulders dropped as he walked over to the door, shooting a small wave to you before leaving.

Hydrangea still in hand.. It was pretty. Like you.

|| the title of this chapter makes this part seem real scary 😭😭 its not, its cutsie. also, i wanted to just show small bits of jealous bucky cz i love jealous bucky. jealous bucky WILL be getting a full part of his own later down the line.

taglist : @iyskgd , @highhopes1008

'' flower shop of new feelings ,,

[ 04 : unlucky ]

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

|| warning : nothing !

|| wc : 3.6k

Ever since you’d found out about James - Bucky - being an Avenger, the two of you’d grown closer. He was more open about who he was, what he’d like. You learned he rather listens to old 40s music than the newer Taylor Swift, which was completely understandable. He wanted to learn how to bake the things his Ma made, muffins and cakes and all that jazz before the war. And when he’s alone in the Tower, he likes to put on soft music and dance to it, pretending he was back in the 40s.

You loved learning more about him, he went from an old customer to a friend, and now, you’d dare say he was one of your closest friends! Despite it barely being 2 months- ah, he was really growing on you. However, with your growing friendship, that also accidentally made it so you were neglecting your other friendships. Especially May, you were both very busy with work, and her being busy with her nephew as well. It was understandable that you both weren’t hanging out much, but you wanted to change that!

You invited May to go out to a cafe with you, one down the street from your flower shop, you knew the person who ran it, Finn.

“Thanks for this, May, gods, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!” The both of you hugged, you giving a small squeeze before letting her go and sitting down across from her. “How’ve you been? How’s Peter doing?”

“Oh, we’ve been doing just great! Peter’s been interning at that Stark place and he’s so excited about it, constantly working on stuff that’s supposedly on-” She raised her hands and did air quotes. “- the down low, y’know?”

A small chuckle left your lips as you sipped on the hot beverage in the paper cup you’d ordered, god Finn made the good stuff here. “How about you? You’ve been MIA so much! I was planning on bringing over some pot pie a few days ago, but Peter saw you coming home and said you looked like you were on the verge of collapsing!” May leaned on the table, her brows furrowed, etched with worry as she asked.

“I promise, I’m okay, really, work’s just been busy.” You gave a lazy shrug. It was true, that day you’d gotten 5 calls for special orders for weddings or funerals and such. Even then, you still had to deal with your other, in person customers. “It’s a lot, but I’m enjoying it.”

“If you say so..” She sighed and twiddled with the pastry in her hands before taking a bite. “Y’know, you need to take a break soon.”

“May-”

“I’m serious!” She huffed and chowed down on the pastry, a sigh of relief leaving her lips. “Oh, this is so good,” May muttered before shaking her head. “I can call Happy, get him to send you off somewhere nice, have a chill vacation”

“I thought you knew me better, May, I’m more of a home-body” You shook your head and laughed before processing.. Happy? Who’s Happy? “Wait, who’s-”

“Happy's uh.. Someone I’ve taken interest in.” Her lips were pulled into a sly smile as you gaped. Were you that absent you didn’t know your friend was seeing someone??

“Tell me everything!”

“Well, he works at Stark Industries and I met him through Peter,” She took another bite of her pastry. “He’s a really sweet guy, there’s some weird stuff, but ah, it’s casual”

“I’m really happy for you, May”

“Awh, shucks” She playfully swatted her hand in the air, feigning to be flustered. “How about you? Any guy friends? Maybe lady ones?”

Your face flushed and you shook your head, your eyes glancing outside. “No, no, been waaay too busy for that!”

“Oh, that’s so boring! How about this, I hook you up with someone.”

“May!”

“I’m just saying! You need to get out there, especially after..” May trailed off as your shoulders tensed. Your last relationship hadn’t ended well, cheating and whatnot. It broke you, even though it was a short relationship, cheating never felt nice. After a beat of silence, May cleared her throat. “C’mon! It’d be fun! Plus, Happy knows the Avengers, maybe you could go on a blind date with one of them!”

Your eyes widened at that.. James was an Avenger, well, sort of. Imagine going on a blind date with him, that’d.. Be a disaster. He knew you, you were just friends. No way you’d get hooked up with him.

“I-I’m way too busy for that, May, it’s a nice sentiment, but not for now.”

She just sighed and shrugged, allowing this topic of discussion to be dropped. The two of you started to talk about some random crap, how your other neighbors were loud.. In more ways than one, it was so annoying. How New York felt like it was the new warzone for aliens and Avenger level threats. God, it was a lot. But, it was nice to talk to May about this stuff. You loved her, she was a great friend.

–

After around 1 and a half hours of gossiping with May, the two of you went your separate ways, promising to do this again soon. Which you intended to keep! May had to go out and get some groceries, meet up with some of her co-workers and pick Peter back up from Stark Industries. Unless he gets a ride. You on the other hand? You decided to just head home, have a lazy day.

It was a Saturday, you’d already done your grocery shopping yesterday and the flowers back in the shop should be good until tomorrow evening. You needed to water them and make sure they weren’t wilted. In the meantime you walked back home and immediately bolted to your room to change into something comfy.

Once you put your comfy pjs on, you flopped on your couch and planted your ass on your couch as you watched mindless television. There was a rom-com sit-com playing on the screen, it was something you liked to put in the background as you crocheted, a hobby you recently picked up.

While you watched TV, the time passed as if hours were seconds and soon enough, the bright rays of light that seeped into your windows grew dimmer and dimmer. Soon enough, the evening had come and you were hungry as hell. With a small groan you pushed yourself off the couch and walked over to the kitchen. You didn’t feel like making anything complicated, so you opted for some instant ramen. With a clean motion, you grabbed a pot and put it under the faucet, turning the knob.. Nothing happened. No water, just a weird sounding sputter.

“What the hell?” Again, you tried turning it, nothing. Shit, was it broken? You put the pot down and squatted in front of the sink, opening the cabinet and looking at the pipes.. Yeah, you were out of your specialty with this. Usually, you asked May for help with this stuff, but as stated before.. She was busy. Shoot.

You sat on the cold ground of your kitchen apartment, looking to find any help from a plumber? You didn’t know who you needed for this. The prices were outrageous. Yeah no, you weren’t calling some professional.. You couldn’t exactly call up any family members.. Your only option left was James. Awh, man, you did NOT want to bother him, but.. You’re friends! He wouldn’t mind. With worried hands you dialed his number and put your phone close to your ear. Bucky was an Avenger! He’s probably busy with Avenger shit, here you are asking for sink help.

–

“Ha! You think you can beat me, little man?”

“.. I am a whole foot taller than you, Belova.”

Bucky and Yelena were currently playing cards together, something that Yelena had offered. She knew how out of depth this man was with the modern era. So, to help ease him into it, she offered to play cards with him every Saturday.. Plus, half the Avengers were busy doing something and she wanted to annoy someone new.

“Still, I am undefeated in the game of Gin Rummy. You know, Natasha taught me how to play when I was a kid!” She puffed her chest out in a proud manner.

“I was alive when Gin Rummy was made world wide.” He raised an eyebrow as Yelena made a “psh” noise and waved her hand in the air dismissively.

Before the two could continue the round, Bucky’s phone vibrated in his pocket, Yelena raised her eyebrow as he gave an apologetic look before standing up and walking out of hearing distance. When he saw it was your name, his heart started to beat just the smallest bit faster.

“[Name], what’s up?”

“James?” Your voice was quiet on the other line, nervous. “Heeeyy”

“You sound nervous, what’s wrong?”

“Well.. Oh, god,” He heard as you took a deep breath in and let it out. “I, uh, was trying to make dinner and I needed water to boil, and uh- my sink is.. Broken- and I didn’t know who else to call, my neighbors out, and I can’t pay for an electrician to help, can you..?”

You trailed off with your question, most likely out of embarrassment, Bucky suspected. Though, he didn’t know why you were embarrassed. “You need me to help?”

“Yes, please”

“Send me your address, I’ll be there quickly.”

“Thank you so much, James! I promise, I’ll cook you something when you fix it!” This made the corners of his lips quirk up. With quick goodbyes, he hung up and waited for your text. Once he saw your address, he recognized it. It was only a small ways away, with his motorcycle he’d be there in less than 10 minutes.

Bucky pushed his phone into his pocket and walked back over to the table where he and Yelena were playing. “I gotta deal with something, sorry to cut the game short.”

“Wha- oh, that’s ерунда, where are you going?” She pushed herself up and gave a small glare to Barnes as she watched him grab his jacket and keys.

“None of your business.”

“Oh, come on, Barnes, I won’t tell anyone.”

He just let out a huff, as a laugh type thing and turned around and walked to the elevator, giving a lazy wave to Yelena as he entered. “I’ll be back in a few hours, don’t trash the place.”

“No promises!”

With a ding, the elevator doors closed and he was going down to the parking garage. This was the first time he’d ever gone to your house, and his mind was RACING. I mean, it was just for friends. You guys are friends. Nothing more, nothing less. I mean, it’d be nice to be more, but no. To Bucky, you were someone who was soft, delicate, like a flower. He was some bulldozer who’d hurt you if he got too close. Not like he wanted to hurt you! No, he was just.. Worried.

As he got on the sleek, black motorcycle that Tony had given him as a peace offering, his mind started to calm as he drove. It was dark enough, just past sunset, so the streets were calm. No usual hustle of New York, no. It was peaceful, for once. The only thing he wished was that all the lights that were on during the night were off. There were bright billboards, bright neon signs that pointed to the nearest club. God, he loved clubs back then. They were nothing like what they were now. They were jazzy, sleek, elegant in its own rustic way, y’know? He missed that. The little things of the past.

Once he got to your apartment complex, he double checked the address before pressing the doorbell, or buzzer for you.

“Uh, [Name]?” He asked into the intercom.

“Hey, James! I’ll buzz you in! Again, thank you so muc-” Your voice got cut off as you unlocked the door for him.

Bucky walked through the empty halls of the apartment, his eyes darting for your apartment number. It was a nice place, better than the apartments back then. Even if Bucky was technically on the more rich side of things when he was younger, everyone had their struggles.

Once he got to the door that had your number on a bronze plate, he knocked on the door, and in a few moments there you stood.. Wow, man, maybe this was too domestic for him. You were in your cozy pajamas, a black, white and red flannel patterned pants and a black oversized shirt, cute mismatched socks that adorned your feet.

“James! Oh, thank god you’re here, c’min c’min!” You ushered him in and closed the door once he was fully in.

Bucky turned his head as his eyes darted around your home. It was.. Cozy, really cozy. There were thrifted paintings on the wall, and crocheted items on your couch. It was warm, but not overwhelming, just right. He stepped more into your living room as his eyes glazed over the photos. One was of your high school graduation, one of your family, one of some (he assumes) high school friends, as well as a photo of your university graduation, upon further inspection, your degree was business. There was one more photo, it was you, a brown haired lady and..

“Peter?” He muttered to himself as he looked closer to the photo, his brows furrowed in confusion. In the photo, you and May were on both sides of Peter as he stood in the middle, holding a first place trophy in his hand. A science thing, Bucky didn’t know. What he DID know was that you were friends with the spider boy's aunt and the spider boy.

“James?” You called out from the kitchen and that seemed to break him from his trance. He grunted and walked over to where you were. “Uhh, here’s.. The sink”

“What’s the problem with it?”

“It makes a sort of- fart noise when I turn it on”

The comparison made Bucky crinkle his nose and snort in amusement. He turned the knob, and yup, just like you said, out came the fart noise. Without the stink.

“This is an easy fix, I think it’s just clogged”

“Oh, so I’m just stupid,” You groaned and tugged at your hair. “I’m sorry for bothering you for such a simple issue of it being clogged.”

“You’re not stupid.” He huffed as he started to work on it. The perks of having a metal arm? He didn’t need any tools. Sure, it came with the trauma of falling out of a train, getting experimented on and being a weapon for 70 years, but ah, y’know how it is. “Steve used t’need my help with everything when we were younger”

“Yeah?” You sat on top of the counter as you watched him work.. Now you were not a pervert, but god, he had nice looking arms. The way it flexed under his jacket when he pulled or pushed on something. GOD, your friend was good looking. NOT THAT YOU WERE LOOKING! Aha.. totally not.

“Yeah, one time he broke one of the lights in his room as a kid, he was trying out some random item he got from the thrift shop and it backfired on him, needed it to get changed and clean up the shattered glass,” He spoke with a certain fondness in his voice as he worked on your sink. “I tried to help, he cleaned up the glass, I tried finding some extra light bulbs, but his old man found out and he told our ma’s. His mom and my Ma got pissed at us when they found out” He chuckled and pulled away from the sink.

“That should be good.” He had a small smile as he looked over to you. His heart beating quick as he looked over your face, you had the brightest smile on your face as you listened to his small story intently. You loved whenever he opened up about his past, even something as small or insignificant as that, it just.. Made you feel closer to him.

“Thank you, James.” You hopped off the counter and tried to turn the sink off, and miraculously it turned on! “Oh, thanks so much James!” With a wide grin on your face, you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He stiffened at this but, with much hesitance, he hugged you back. After a beat of silence, you pulled away and filled up the pot from before. “I’m gonna make instant ramen, if that’s okay?”

“More than okay.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as you put the pot on the stove and started to boil it. “You wanna watch a movie? I have Netflix!”

“Uh, what’d you wanna watch?”

“Oh, I, uh, I was hoping you’d choose?”

He huffed and walked back into the living room. Despite being free for over three years and a half, he still wasn’t used to picking out things for himself, having options. Granted, two of those years were spent with the Wakandans rehabilitating him, but that’s just details.

Bucky scrolled through your Netflix, a small smile on his face as he saw in your recently watched documentary of ‘Captain America : The Original Avenger.’ He watched that documentary, it wasn’t super accurate, but it was better than the others.

“Whaddya think about a World War 2 movie?”

“So you can point out the inaccuracies?”

Bucky snorted and confirmed your assumption. You just rolled your eyes and laughed. The two of you grew into a nice silence as the documentary played. Bucky didn’t sit down on the couch though, he walked around the living room. Looking over the photos, still shellshocked at the fact you knew the spider kid.

–

After a little while, you and Bucky finally had the bowls of instant ramen in front of you as you both sat in front of the TV. Still, he’s pointing out the inaccuracies of the documentary. It was really amusing. Everytime he pointed something out, his nose would scrunch up and his brows would be furrowed just the smallest bit.

Especially if the documentary brought up the Howling Commandos, he’d get pissed at every inconsistency.

“We did not take down 50 men that day, it was 36, god they’re dramatic.”

“You remember?” You asked, your cheeks puffed out with ramen as you slurped it down.

“I remember every mission of mine before- uh, everything.” He took a sip of the soup and took a bite of the noodles. “That mission, Stevie was pissed ‘cause Pinkerton accidentally threw out one of the plans of attack. He got Sawyer to draw it up all over again.” Again, as he reminisced, there was a certain sadness in his voice. Despite it being a literal war, he remembered all the good with the Howling Commandos. They were like a family of his. “Obviously, Steve didn’t stay mad the whole time, just long enough for Pinkerton to grovel”

You snorted at that and finished up your food. Listening to every word of what he said. Usually, Bucky was more closed off, quiet, but when talking about his past. The good parts of his past, he seemed like a never ending sentence. He’d talk fondly of the Howling Commandos, his Ma, his sister Rebecca, and all the trouble he and Steve got into as teens.

Soon enough, the documentary ended and you and Bucky finished your food. He, in a quiet tone, offered to wash the dishes which you complied with. The dishes were one of your least favourite chores. As he washed, you both still talked.

“So how was your day?” As dry as that was, you had no idea how Bucky’s day was, especially being an Avenger. In turn, he gave a lazy shrug, his arms deep into the sink.

“Worked out from 8 to 12, uh..” He had therapy today but he was not going to tell you about that. “Had lunch with Steve and Natasha, no Sam ‘cause he’s out in Wisconsin.”

“Why?”

“Mission, heard some enhanced was causing trouble. He, Wanda, Clint and Banner went.” You hummed in acknowledgement then asked if he did anything else. “I.. Cleaned, I dunno. I don’t really do much around the Tower. Though, Yelena and I were supposed to play-”

He cut himself off and checked the time after he put away the last dish in the drying rack. Shit, it was already 11 PM, how did he not realize 4 hours had passed?? How did he not realize that the documentary was so damn long? Shit, Steve’s gonna ask questions when he gets back home.

“You needa go home?” You had a small smirk on your face, your eyebrow raised at his sudden cut off. With a twinge of embarrassment, he nodded.

“Sorry, just.. Being, uh, me-” He pointed to his metal arm. “People in the Tower don’t really trust me all too much just yet, so I hafta get home.”

“Nah, I get it, no worries, James.” You walked him out and at the door way he put his shoes back on and reached for the handle. Before stepping outside he turned to you one last time, sparing you a small smile.

“I had fun today.”

“Same, we should do this more often”

“Definitely.” He had a soft smile on his face as he stepped out and you closed the door. For a few moments, he stared at your door all longingly, as if he was some teenager who’d just snuck back out of his secret paramour's house.

With a small sigh he turned away from your door. His eyes locked with wide eyed brown ones. Ones that he’d seen way too often back at the Tower.

“Mr. Barnes?”

Of course it was the Spider kid.

|| WOOOOWEEEEE!!! i looove making everyone have connections guys !!! ALSOOO if you wanna be added to the taglist, i'd be more than welcome to add you :3

|| also, small thing, if the russian that yelena said was wrong, blame google translate, i know nothing abt russian

taglist : @iyskgd , @highhopes1008

[ FLOWER SHOP OF NEW FEELINGS MASTERLIST ]

started : 04 / 21 / 2025

ended : n/a , ongoing

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

summary : When Clint's birthday comes sooner than Bucky realized, Steve forced him to go buy some gift for Hawkeye. Figuring that flowers were an easy enough gift, he takes a visit to the flower on the corner of the street.. There, he meets a cute florist, someone who seemed to melt his cold heart. How will Bucky navigate this modern world romance? Will he allow himself to fall in love? If so.. How will he keep this from the team? And how will you navigate a friendship - let alone romance - with one of the most closed off Avengers?

[ 01 : the cute florist ]

[ 02 : get a grip ]

[ 03 : distractions ]

[ 04 : unlucky ]

[ 05 : run ]

[ 06 : bad feeling ]

'' flower shop of feelings ,,

[ 03 : distractions ]

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

|| warning : very VERY brief encounter with a gun , mission but barely talked abt

|| wc : 2.5k

The next couple of weeks went by like normal, or as normal as they coule. Both you and Bucky would text each other, sending small ‘good morning!’ texts as well as ‘goodnight’ ones. It made Bucky act as if he was a highschooler again, his heart all giddy every time a notification popped up on his phone- sure, he didn’t have a phone back when he was a teen but hush.

He really did enjoy texting you, it was definitely the highlight of his day.. But the more you texted, the more.. Attached, he's grown? Didn’t help that you’d both go out for coffee at least once a week. It was harder to hide himself from you, hide the fact he was living in the Avengers Tower, that he was.. Well, seen as the Winter Soldier.

You were just so sweet. Kind. He couldn’t tell you, his past was a literal nightmare. He’d done terrible things and-

“Hey, soldat, Steve, Sam and I are going to a museum, wanna join?”

“Why would I wanna go to a museum?”

“Maybe ‘cause you’re ancient,” Natasha snickered before shaking her head. “We’re going there ‘cause we got a tip that somethings going to go down. Might be big, wanna join?”

As much as Bucky wanted to say no and just lock himself in his room, he knew Steve would just try to drag him out. So, instead of fighting it, he nodded and sat up. Plus, maybe this could distract him from you.

–

In some “undercover” clothes, the four of them were walking around a museum, one that showed off arts and sculptures. Maybe in another life, Bucky would’ve found it interesting. But, they were just pretending to be enamored by the statuettes. No, they were on guard due to the fact they had gotten a warning from anonymous that some suspicious activity was going to go down. It could be some sort of drop-off of a weapon, magic shit, or maybe just stealing some art. Who knows?

Bucky stood besides Sam as they stared at some giant piece of art, it was a painting. A really well done one, actually. Oil painting of some sort of landscape with a bunch of people, the colors matched, the composition was wonderful, and the story behind it was deep.

“Think something’s actually gonna happen today, or just bad intel?” Sam kept his eyes ahead, as if analyzing the art in front of him.

“.. 10 bucks says something’s going to happen”

“10 bucks says it’s bad intel, I mean c’mon, it’s a Wednesday”

“What’s so not important about a Wednesday?”

“Why couldn’t it be on a Friday?”

“Maybe the bad guys were busy on Friday.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and just rolled his shoulder. “I’m gonna go over down the hall, check out the statues and make sure nothing’s going down.”

Bucky nodded and went back to looking up at the painting. Admiring the bumps and parts of the painting where the paint seemed to clump. Real pretty.

He turned from the painting and went the opposite direction of Sam. But the second he started to walk, he froze. Either this is a terrible coincidence or God wants to mess with him. Standing a few feet away from him was you. Shit shit shit! He can't be distracted by you. In a small panic, Bucky started to walk back, a few steps before he turned around and bumped into something.

Shit, all that ‘training’ went to shit, he bumped into a trashcan. Making a loud clatter noise, drawing everyone's attention, including yours. Now where was Sam in all this? That bitch was recording everything.

“James?”

Shit.

He turned slowly around, tugging at his hood and hiding his forehead. “Hey, [Name]..”

You just giggled at the strange coincidence that Bucky was here. In fact, you didn’t even mean to come to the museum today, a buddy of yours that worked there invited you to go, and since you didn’t have to open up shop today, you agreed! Funny how fate works! “What’re you doing here? You here with a friend?” You glanced around, it didn't seem anyone claimed to have gone along with Bucky.

“Admiring the art.” He let go of his hood before pushing his hands into his pockets. He couldn’t say that he was actually on some Avenger mission. You still didn’t know he was the Winter Soldier. And he wanted to keep it that way.. “What’re you doing here?”

“My friend just invited me, she works here, kinda just spur of the moment!” You scratched the back of your head as you looked up at the painting in front of you. “Plus, I didn’t have to open shop today.. Kinda a free day today.”

Bucky nodded and shifted in his spot. His eyes darted from you and back to the painting, just because the two of you have been texting for the last month didn’t mean he knew how to talk to you like a normal person. I mean, he was a good speaker back then right? He could.. He could try to act like that again, right?

“Hey! Since you’re alone.. And I’m alone, wanna.. Be alone together?” You shrugged, shifting your weight from your toes to your heels. Rocking front to back as you asked. “As cheesy as that is.”

The super soldier besides you looked over your face for a brief moment before looking around the hall. Looking for Sam, who was currently pretending to be interested in some sort of old statue. Bucky was sure he’s going to ask about who you were later, God, he’ll need to make up a lie.. That’s not even what he should be worried about, he should be worried about the damn mission they were on!

Your eyes softened as you looked up at his nervousness. Bucky was an.. Awkward person, but it was part of his charm, that’s why you like him. “Or, I could walk away, meet you back up later, and then pretend it’s a coincidence?” You cracked a small smile and kept your eyes on him.

Thankfully, the small joke you made seemed to make him visibly less like he’s about to explode on the spot. He gave a short nod before turning away and walked off. You didn’t mind, he was his own person, and you were yours, but man would it have been fun to be with him instead of alone.

–

The time passed by quickly, every other exhibit, you’d find yourself in the middle of a conversation with James. Though, he seemed to be on guard more and more each ‘coincident meeting.’ Again, you didn’t mind.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s wonderful people are trying to be more- communicative with their mistakes with their partners, but seriously, I’ve gotten like 15 customers this week who wanted to buy a basic rose bouquet as a sorry present!” You tugged at your hair as you complained about work. Bucky didn’t mind, though, he’d rather listen to your voice than his. “I swear, if I get one more customer ask what’s the best type of flowers for apologizing to their partners for sleeping with their best friend, I’m gonna lose it!”

“It’s that common?”

“Uh, yeah, people are such assholes nowadays, can’t find a decent person to date, y’get desperate, then yeesh! You’re stuck with some asshole!” You waved your hand in the air as you brushed what you said aside. Truth be told, you hadn’t gotten into a relationship in the past.. Maybe 2 years? Even then, it was always casual. “That’s why I–”

RING! RING! EMERGENCY! EVACUATE TO THE NEAREST EXITS!

The blaring alarms cut you off as red lights danced in your vision. There were people screaming and guns firing, it seemed something bad did happen, and Sam owed Bucky 10 bucks. Bucky’s eyes darted towards the sound of the gunshots and started to run towards it, only to be tugged by your hand. Your eyes wide with worry and confusion as to why the hell your friend James was running towards the danger!

“James! What’re you doing?! C’mon, we hafta go!”

“I can’t–”

“Bucky, there’re 6 armed men near Sam and your location, Nat and I are taking care of the other 6” Steve’s voice came through into Bucky’s earpiece. “They’re trying to do a drop-off, some sort of Hydra weapon! Get the briefcase!”

“On my way.” Bucky replied as you stared up at him, your brows furrowed in even more confusion. What the hell was he doing?? “You need to get out of here, it’s not safe.”

“No, we have to get out of here! James, c’mon, you’re not some super he–”

You cut yourself off as your friend shucked his jacket off and blocked a bullet that was flying both your ways.. With his arm. A sleek, black metal arm. That’s when it hit you, that’s why he seemed so familiar. That’s why he was so secretive on where he stayed or not. He wasn’t just James. He was James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier.

“Holy shit.”

“Get out of here, I’ll-” James grabbed a gun from his holestor (Oh my god???) and shot at the ones who were shooting at the both of you. “I’ll find you outside.”

“.. Be careful” You muttered before turning away and running out to the closest exit. You didn’t know how to react, what to do with the newfound information. You felt so.. So stupid, not realizing that James was an Avenger. He lived in the Avenger tower- Oh my god, he was a super soldier.

With shallow breaths you turned a corner and your eyes locked to the nearest exit. You took a breath of fresh air as you felt the cold breeze hit your face, as if the museum was stuffed with smoke. It wasn’t, thank god, the people who arranged the attack didn’t seem to think to use fire power. It’s probably for the best.

As you stepped farther away from the door, a paramedic looked over you, you weren’t hurt, not shot, not even grazed. Thank god for.. James. You still couldn’t wrap your head around it. Whilst you sat on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for the fight to die down, you pulled your phone out. You didn’t have many contacts, honestly you were.. Pretty alone. Parents? Only mom was left after dad passed. Siblings? An older, pretentious brother. Friends? You were pretty quiet in highschool, only the museum buddy of yours, who was Maria, she’s the one who gave you this death wish of an invite here. Then there was your other friend, who was in fact your neighbor, May and her nephew Peter. Nice bunch, you gave them flowers on their birthdays and they’d bring you some sort of baked good. Ah, but I digress.

Jeez. Maybe you’ll call up May, she’d probably know about this, plus, she told you Peter was an intern at Starks, right? Ah, but.. No, that wouldn’t do much good. He’s an intern, not some superhero. You kept scrolling through your phone for a few more minutes. You didn’t know how well of a promise James’ll keep, especially with him fighting people with.. Super weapons or something, but you stayed. Hoping he’ll keep to his word and try to find you.

After a long while, you heard claps and cheers from the citizens as the four of them brought all 12 of the villains out of the museum. They seemed hurt, but not to the brink of death, thankfully. The Cap was quick to hand them over to the police to take care of as the citizens slowly dispersed. People knew all about the hero's life, hearing it on the news and such, it was hard to be an Avenger. So, they needed space.

You waited as the crowds grew smaller before you took a few steps closer, holding your arms closely as you stood to the side. Watching as your friend's eyes darted around. It was amusing. Despite just saving a bunch of people, including yourself, he was still awkward.

“[Name].” He muttered, his voice light as a breath of fresh air as he spotted you. His shoulders seemed to sag in relief as he walked towards you. He should definitely be headed to the Avengers Tower, but right now he needed to make sure you were okay. “Are you hurt? They didn’t get you, right?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, James, I-” You let out a small breath and placed your hands on your hips as you looked over at him. He had some blood on his jacket, some scratches on his face.. And that arm. Oh, wow, he.. Yup, he had a metal arm. “You.. Never told me you were an Avenger.” The corner of your lips tugged into a small smile as you chuckled.

He mirrored your smile, relieved at the fact you didn’t seem upset, or even the smallest bit scared. “You never asked.”

Your nose crinkled, “I asked what your job was, you said–”

“That I work as security.”

“Security for the whole world, James!” With that you started to laugh into your hand, this was unbelievable. This awkward man who’d stumbled into your flower shop looking for a gift for his friend was James “Bucky” Barnes.

“Sorry for keeping that from you, I just-” He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. “I liked that you just knew.. Me.”

That made your heart melt. Everyone in the world knew James as “Bucky” or “The Winter Soldier.” The only people who knew him differently was Steve, only because he knew him back in the 40s and was his best friend and.. You. You knew him as James, and as much as the name felt weird, it felt right in your lips.

“Don’t apologize,” You hit your fist against his non-metal arm in a playful manner, an understanding smile on your face. “I get why you didn’t tell me. I’m not upset over it, if you’re worried.”

A small smile danced on Bucky’s lips and he nodded. “You’re too sweet.”

“Nah, I’m just a good friend.”

“Friend.” Bucky repeated to himself and nodded again. Oh he loved being your friend. He honestly thought the only friend he’d ever have would be from the Avenger Tower, and that’s only because they were Steve’s friends. “Ah, uh- I should probably-”

He pointed over to where Steve, Natasha and Sam were talking and you immediately understood.

“Oh! Yeah, no you go do that-”

“Thanks, uhm-” He stepped back and hesitated to turn away. “I’ll, uh, text you?”

“Yeah- Yeah!”

“Cool.” He nodded and turned away, the corners of his usually scowling lips quirked up as he repeated to himself. “Cool.”

He approached his team and just blended in nicely, no one seemed to notice him leaving and coming back. Perfect.

He spared you one last glance, as you walked away. Friend.

|| WOOO !! :3 FRIENDSHIP

'' flower shop of new feelings ,,

[ 02 : get a grip ]

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

|| warning : none , bucky's an awkward guy <3

|| wc : 2.2k

Clint’s birthday went wonderfully, at least, in Tony’s eyes. There was a big celebration in the Tower, lots of people were invited. Well, actually most of them were just Clint’s friends from SHIELD as well as the Avengers. Even Peter and his aunt were invited! It was a fun celebration.. Well, to everyone but Bucky.

It wasn’t like Bucky hated parties, no in fact he loved them! At least, he was supposed to, back in the 40s, he loved to go to parties before.. Everything. Ah, but now? He was sitting at the bar, silently drinking some alcoholic drink that wouldn’t make him even the slightest bit tipsy. The only people here that were completely sober were the spider kid, his aunt, and Bucky. Even Steve was drunk from whatever Asgardian drink that Thor had brought this time. Not that Bucky minded, he loved seeing Steve happy. No, what was bothering him was that the spider punk was bothering him now.

“Oh! And- and one time there was a bank robbery back home and they were all wearing masks of everyone- well, not everyone everyone. But! They were wearing Mr. Stark and Mr. Roger masks and other Avengers,” Peter rambled on, swirling his apple juice in one hand as he leaned against the bar table.

Bucky just nodded along with any story that Peter was talking about.. In all honesty, Peter reminded him of his little sister.. But more annoying.

“But I took them down! It was actually really easy! Except that they had this weird weapon, like really weird! It went all boosh!” He made finger guns and pointed them at Bucky. “Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky bit back a sigh and just grunted in response as he took another swig of vodka. Might as well have the strongest drink and not get drunk, right?

“What was it like back in the 40s?”

Bucky spared a glance over to Peter, his eyebrow raised. He didn’t expect this, didn’t expect curiosity from the kid. “It was.. Different.”

“Liiike?”

“Loud. But not like it is now.” Bucky shrugged, in all honesty, he didn’t remember much due to the whole brainwashing thing, but what he did remember were.. Pictures, sounds. He remembered the music and how it made him feel. He remembered things from his childhood. “Steve ‘n I used to skip school a lot. Steve, uh, hated doin’ it, but I forced him to.” Bucky chuckled as he remembered, maybe he was getting tipsy ‘cause usually he wouldn’t be so open about his past. Or maybe the kid was easy to talk to, easier than the other avengers.

“We used t’skip and go to the greasy spoon a block away from our school, buy an ice cream soda with two scoops for us both. If we were lucky, we’d run into some dames and take a powder to the nearest place we can go for a dance.” As Bucky reminisced of the past, his inner Brooklynn boy came out and he started spitting slang from back then left and right. He didn’t even realize until he turned back to Peter who had the biggest smile on his face, but was so confused.

“That sounds fun!” Peter chuckled and took a sip of his apple juice, an awkward silence forming between the two before he asked. “Do you miss it?”

Bucky took a second and shrugged, he didn’t know if he did. It was simpler, yeah, but nowadays he has freetime. Didn’t have to fight every second of the day when he woke up. Didn’t have to worry about HYDRA controlling him, sure, he struggled with episodes sometimes, but.. He had Steve, he wasn’t alone. Wasn’t in the trenches.

“I don’t miss the war if that’s what you’re askin’, kid”

Peter chuckled and opened his mouth to speak again before May tapped his shoulder. “C’mon, Peter, it’s getting late, you still have school tomorrow.”

“Awe, man” Peter huffed before jumping off the barstool. “I’ll see you later, Mr. Barnes!”

Bucky waved to both Peter and May, a small ‘bye’ leaving his lips before he turned back to his drink. Man, time to just be a wallflower and watch as everyone got absolutely buzzed.

–

The next morning came by in a flash, it helped that Bucky turned in early. Well.. Early was a stretch, he went to bed at 2 AM, even when everyone was still preoccupied with the festivities. When, said, man left his room at 8 AM, he found everyone passed the hell out on the couches.

He didn’t wanna wake anyone up, so he just went to the kitchen and looked for something to eat. Something about the modern days was that it was easier to cook something! Not just boiled, though he did miss the bread pudding.

“Shit.” he muttered to himself as he found out, yeah no the guests raided the kitchen.. Or maybe it was all the passed out Avengers. Might as well go on a run and get some groceries. He hated doing errands, but no one was telling him to do it, no pressure.. Might as well buy some stuff.

In a few quick moments, he put a hoodie on and a nice pair of jeans on with his gloves nicely placed on his hands. He didn’t like showing off his hands, let alone his metal arm. Hated scaring people. Bucky made his way down the Tower and left. Taking a deep breath in the early morning air, he walked down to the nearest grocery shop.. Which was 20 minutes away, or 25 on foot. He didn’t mind, he liked walking.

–

Soon enough, he made it to the grocery shop. With it being 8:28 AM, and being a Tuesday, it wasn’t too busy. In fact, there was barely anyone.. Barely anyone.

He made his way through the aisles, and there he saw.. The cute florist from before. Except no apron like before,, they were just wearing a lazy day outfit, they were struggling with grabbing something on the top shelf but god they still looked-

You glanced up and saw Bucky, a flash of confusion on your face before you snapped your fingers and pointed to him. A big smile dancing on your lips as you exclaimed, “James!”

“Hey-” Bucky stopped himself and cringed internally. He may have been non-stop thinking about you and your face, but he was an ass to not have asked your name. “Y-You..”

They’regonnahatemethey’regonnahatemethey’regonnahatem-

“Pff- ha!”

Instead of what Bucky assumed, you shook your head and started giggling at Bucky’s awkwardness. He looked so mean ‘n scary, but here he was acting like a huge dork!

“The name’s [Name],” You went back down from your tippy toes. Man, you were just really cute- DAMNIT! Get a grip, Sargeant. “Hey! You’re like a giant, think you can grab that for me?”

You pointed at the box on the top, which was a box of fruit snacks. Cute. “Yeah, sure.”

Bucky grabbed the fruit snacks, glanced at the cover.. It was Avengers inspired fruit snacks. He raised his eyebrow and looked over at you with a slight hint of curiosity. Embarrassed, you snatched the box from Bucky’s hand and shoved it into your basket.

“They’re good-” You muttered. “The snacks and the heroes, I mean.”

“You like the Avengers?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“The bad guys.” He shrugged, and you laughed.

You kept laughing for a few moments, Bucky was just.. Admiring you. The way the corner of your eyes wrinkled, the way your cheeks flushed just the smallest bit.. Man, why was he acting like this? Barely knew you, yet his mind was reeling. Sure, he flirted back in the 40s.. A lot, but.. I dunno, there’s something different about you.

“James?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. Sure, he was absolutely enamored right now, but his face looked like he was just annoyed. “Wanna just shop with me? I-I’m probably just gonna get junk food if I’m alone, so-”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay!”

With a new pep in your step, you led him down the aisles. Checking over the produce section, he grabbed a few carrots, a package of lettuce. In turn, you grabbed some veggies as well.. It was more out of peer pressure (despite there not being any pressure), at least the plan was working. He inspired half of your purchases that day, and honestly, that’s a good thing. It seemed half his food was real healthy shit..

“Do you live alone?”

“Wha? Oh,” Bucky looked down at his basket before nodding. “I live with.. A lot of people”

“That makes way more sense, didn’t peg you for a-” You glanced into his basket and a small smirk tugged at your lips. “Pop tart, beer, and toast guy.”

Bucky shrugged and scratched the back of his head. He was just buying things from the usual grocery shop list. Pop tarts for Thor, beer for.. Half the Avengers, toast just for everyone, etc etc.

“My roommates are foodies”

“I can tell!” He watched as you hummed and grabbed one last item. “That should be good for me! You done?”

He nodded.

“Great! Where d’you live?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you realized what you said. “I-I’m asking ‘cause maybe after we pay I can walk you home! Or- somethin’.. I dunno, sorry-”

“Oh.” The tall man in front of you shuffled in his spot. “No need. I live a few blocks away, it’d be a hassle.”

“Oh, well, that sucks! I was hoping to talk with you more!”

Bucky walked besides you as you both walked to the self-paying cash registers. Man, your words made his heart start beating faster. How could you be so.. Smooth with this? Maybe you didn’t realize, it could just be something you see as platonic. He didn’t know.

“I can.. Give you my number.” Bucky muttered, he knew that’d be seen as flirty. Or at least hitting on you.. But, he didn’t mind. Maybe he wanted that? NO. No, Steve told him to make connections, this is just to make a new friend.

Your eyes lit up at the offer and you nodded quickly. Quickly finishing up at paying for your groceries and took your phone out. “You can put your number in my phone after you're done paying?”

Bucky nodded again. You watched as he put everything away and.. Okay, admired his arm. Even under the hoodie, you can tell he worked out. James was really handsome, but so mysterious at the same time! Not much of a talker, but you could do all the talking.. You wonder, would he talk in bed- NO WAIT! Get a grip, goddamnit. This was all supposed to be innocent, he’s just a new friend.

As quickly as your grocery shopping came, the two of you walked out, side-by-side.

“It was nice seeing you again, James!” You waved back and walked away, one new number in your phone.

–

By the time Bucky got back to the Tower, everyone was already awake, but hungover as hell. The only ones who weren’t super hungover were Steve, Natasha and Thor.

“Hello, one-armed man!” Thor waved over to Bucky and gestured him over to join, said, Steve, Natasha and him over to the kitchen table.

Bucky gave a short nod and put the grocery bags on the table.

“You better have gotten-” Natasha looked through the bags and let out a huff. Not of annoyance, one of thanks. “Thanks.”

She waved the bag of pistachios in the air before opening it and started eating them up. She loved pistachios.

“Man of one arm, you have done wonderfully!” Thor grabbed one of the three boxes of pop tarts and started eating one. “As thanks, I will make tea!”

Bucky nodded, even though he’d rather have coffee than tea, but he’d rather not correct Thor. He’s one of the only people who weren’t a part of the Civil war, the other was Bruce Banner.

“Thanks for the food, Buck,” Steve opened the bread and spread a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Bucky just grunted in response and took a bite of a piece of bread in which Steve made for him. Just a simple piece of white bread with peanut butter. He took his phone out and checked it for a moment.. You texted him.

Florist : hey, james :3! sorry if this is quick, just wanted to make sure you had my number! if this isnt james this is rlly embarrassing

The corners of Bucky’s mouth quirked up, very quick, very faint. Didn’t last long, but he texted back.

James : It’s me, don’t worry. Hi, [Name], and don’t worry, this isn’t embarrassing.

“Buck?”

Steve’s voice cut him from his.. Trance of you. He hit send on the text before putting his phone away. “What?”

“Who y’texting?” The blonde leaned on the table and eyed him suspiciously. A small smirk on his face as he eyed Bucky.. He knew for a FACT the only people Bucky texted was Sam and him, and on OCCASION Peter.

“Nothing- no one. Don’t worry about it, punk.”

“You sure? You look pretty happy”

A small murmur came from Natasha as she leaned over to Thor. “He looks happy?”

“C’mon, you can’t lie to me, Buck, I’ve known you for years”

“Steve-”

“Is it a dame?”

“Shut it before I hit you, punk” Bucky glared at Steve and bit his bread before huffing. Steve rolled his eyes and put his hands up in defeat.

“Fine, fine.”

With that, he didn’t ask anymore. And Bucky decided; he’ll only text you when he’s alone.

|| i am quite enjoying writing for bucky <333 also, ily domestic avengers

'' flower shop of new feelings ,,

[ 01: the cute florist ]

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

|| summary : When Clint's birthday comes sooner than Bucky realized, Steve forced him to go buy some gift for Hawkeye. Figuring that flowers were an easy enough gift, he takes a visit to the flower on the corner of the street..

There, he meets a cute florist, someone who seemed to melt his cold heart. How will Bucky navigate this modern world romance? Will he allow himself to fall in love? If so.. How will he keep this from the team? And how will you react to him being the Winter Soldier?

|| warning : this is a series that im writing on both ao3 , im js posting this on tumblr cz why not? yk? also, every part im not adding the summary, it's js for this !!

|| wc : 1.7k

“C’mon, Buck, you have to get him a gift. He’s your friend.”

“No, he’s your friend, I doubt any of your friends actually still want me around.”

“Sam likes y-”

“Sam doesn’t count.”

Bucky and Steve had been going at it for the past while, it was Clint’s birthday tomorrow and Steve really, really wanted Bucky to get more used to the team. After the whole fallout with the Sokovia Records, everyone was lucky that it was put aside. Bucky’s crimes were pardoned as well as the majority of Cap’s team, but it was still real tense.

It was a wonder Tony let them all still live in the Tower. I mean, not all of them lived there. Thor and Loki came and went, Clint lived with his family in god knows where, Peter lived with his aunt but visited VERY frequently, and Wanda and Vision moved out to live on their own. Which is.. Completely understandable.

“Clint likes.. He likes you, I mean he was on our side, remember?”

Bucky shot a wary look Steve’s way, his eyebrow twitching up before rolling his eyes. “If I were to get Barton something, what does he even like? I know nothin’ ‘bout your friends.”

“.. It’d be safe to get him flowers.” Steve shrugged and stood up from Bucky’s desk chair, before this, Steve barged into his best friend's room and started interrogating him about the birthday. “Though, you could check in with Romanoff.”

With a quiet grunt, Bucky nodded and flopped back in bed as Steve walked out. He hated this. Well, hate was a strong word. It was strange to him, having this much freedom. He had the freedom to try to get closer to people, yet he didn’t.. Know how to. He’d forgotten. He was better at this back in his day.

–

“Flowers?” Natasha quirked her eyebrow up before she hit the dummy with a hard kick. She’d been training for the past hour or so, blowing off some steam. “Clint likes the basics, roses, lilies, y’know.”

“And you’re sure it’s a good idea?”

“He likes flowers, I think he’d like something more practical, but he’s probably not expecting much from you,” She punched the dummy repeatedly, giving it no time to try and bounce back. After a few moments, and ine final blow, the dummy flew across the room and tumbled down. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Bucky mentally checked that off.. Roses, lilies.. Basic flowers. Something practical. “What other things does he like?”

Natasha hummed and walked over to the dummy, carrying it back to the original spot as she thought. “Laura,” She could practically feel Bucky ask, so she cut him off. “Barton’s wife mentioned he wanted to get into carving. Maybe get him a knife for that?”

“Oh.” He nodded slowly and checked that down. “Thank you, Romanoff.”

“Call me Natasha,” She spared him a sideways glance and lazy smile before she went back to beating the crap out of some training dummy.

–

With some research (asking F.R.I.D.A.Y), Bucky found a small flower shop with good ratings, but not too many, meaning it was smaller. He didn’t like going out in the public all too much just yet. Felt too.. Vulnerable? He didn’t know. He just hated people.

Well, thankfully, he found a more isolated shop. It was a 15 minute walk from the tower, it was a flower shop that served as a bookstore as well. A real cute scene. A scene where Bucky felt out of place.

The small bell on the top of the door rung as Bucky swung the door open. He had a baseball hat on, his red henley, and a jacket to try and.. Hide who he was. Didn’t want some poor old lady to get scared when seeing him. (He assumed that the owner was some little lady.)

“Just a minute!”

Bucky froze at the voice, okay, didn’t sound like an old lady. He pushed his hat closer to his head as he heard shuffling from the back.

Instead of a little lady, he found you. You popped out of the back door, stack of boxes in your arms, and a big smile on your face. Charming, cute almost.

“Welcome to the Flower Parlor! How can I help y’today?” You recited what you said to other customers most likely, as you put the boxes down on the ground, on the other side of the counter.

As Bucky watched you straighten yourself out, your shoulders stiffened as you looked up at him. Oh god, he looked real scary. Baseball hat, dark jacket, looks like he’s gonna rob the place! Ah, but he wouldn't get much from here.

“I need help with a birthday gift.”

Oh wow, his voice sent a shiver down your spine. His voice was as if.. Well, you didn’t know, but it was really nice! He had- yeah, he had a nice voice, god get a grip.

“Ooh! Alrighty, tell me ‘bout the birthday person and I’ll gladly make a bouquet for ‘em! And a nice book to go along with it too!” In a swift motion, you grabbed some semi-transparent paper you used to make bouquets and watched him expectantly.

“Uh, he..” God, what did Clint like? “Likes.. Bow ‘n arrows.”

You raised a brow at the factoid Bucky dropped but didn’t question, instead, you grabbed some Hyacinths and placed them neatly on the paper, making sure to make it look pretty.

This kept going, he’d drop a factoid of Clint, you’d grab a flower. Hyacinths because they represented Apollo, who was the god of Archery. White roses to represent loyalty, A few hydrangeas because Bucky said he was a ‘family man’ and a few baby’s breaths to fluff it up a bit more and you were done! The bouquet consisted of a more purple and white color palette, in turn, you made the ribbon that held it together a dark purple.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” Bucky muttered as you handed the bouqet of flowers to him. He hadn’t held one since.. Well, almost 80 years ago.

“And a book, whaddya think your birthday guy likes t’read?”

“Oh- uh-” Bucky took a sharp breath in and shrugged.

To that, you let out a small giggle, running your hand through your messy hair before you looked on your bookshelf, trying to find some good book. Oh, but Bucky wasn’t paying attention to what he could be getting Clint, no, he stopped the moment that laugh left your lips.

Didn’t know why, but that laugh just stopped his thinking. It was so light, gentle. Man, no one at the Tower was this soft, the- the opposite actually. Yet here you were, actually laughing at Bucky’s confusion.. It wasn’t condescending, more amused, actually. God! Get a grip, James, you’re not gonna see ‘em again after this.

“How ‘bout a classic? The Hobbit? Or maybe Their Eyes were Watching God?”

“I remember reading The Hobbit.”

“Yeah? How’dya like it?”

“.. Don’t like wizards all that much”

Again, you snorted and started to laugh at his disdain to wizards. Which was fair, he wasn’t the biggest fan of Dr. Strange, but he liked him better than.. Well, a whole heck of a lot of people.

“Then how ‘bout Their Eyes were Watching God?” You put the Hobbit back on the shelf and walked up to him, extending your hand and handing the book to him. Your fingers touched momentarily, his gloved hand met your soft ones and Bucky’s mind blanked for a moment. God! He was actin’ like a schoolboy back when he found out Daisy liked him back in grade school all those years ago.

“Yeah, okay, yeah.” With a hurrid nod, Bucky took the book and held everything in his left hand, fumbling for his wallet with his right. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

“What?”

“Eh, you’re a much better customer than I usually get,” You shrugged and pushed your hands in the pockets of your apron. “Usually I get assholes who wanna buy flowers after cheating on their partners.. Ah, you’re here for a friend though! So.. Yeah, on the house”

“I can’t, lemme just-”

“Really, you’re fine-”

“I insist-”

The bell of the door jingled and cut you both off, you yelled out “Just a minute!” just like you did for Bucky. A small smile on your face as you turned back up to the man in front of you, who was still grabbing a $20 bill and shoved it to you.

“Oh-” You sighed before letting out a small snort. “Fine, you win this time, Mr..”

“James.”

“James.” You repeated and took the bill, pocketing it into your apron. Heart bearing as you nodded to him and backed away. “Well, I hope your friend has a good birthday. It was nice meeting you, James.”

Bucky gave a small smile and nodded as he walked to the door. The bell jingled again as he opened it. “Thank you.”

And with that he left.

–

Bucky’s heart was still racing as he got back to his room at the Tower, get a grip, soldier, can’t act like a fucking teenager. And as much as he hated it, he was an avenger! He can’t- oh god.

“Buck?” Steve’s voice was muffled as he knocked on Bucky’s door before opening it. His eyes flickering to the bouquet on his night stand and back to Bucky. “Hey, that’s real nice! Flowers, told you it was a good idea”

“Shut it, punk” He muttered and pushed his face into the mattress.

“Someone’s moody,” his best friend muttered. “What’s wrong?”

The second the question left Steve’s lips, Bucky shook his head and sat up, running a hand through his hair and his expression hardened. Get a fuckibg grip, Sargeant.

“Like I said, nothing.”

It was so clear that Steve didn’r believe it. But, with how things had recently been, he didn’t wanna push it.

“Well, how was getting the flowers?”

“Good..” Bucky glanced at the flowers and immediately remembered how gentle your hands were. Placing them down strategically and quickly, but with the elegance of a dancer. “Really good.”

“.. You’re acting weird” Steve huffed with a chuckle. “C’mon, let’s go on a run, you needa clear your head up.”

Bucky nodded and stood up from the bed. He was fine with being told what to do, it was easier than having his freedom.

Easier than thinking of the cute florist.

|| FIRST PART IS POSTED! after i post all the parts i've already made, ill post a masterlist of the parts :)

'' DANCING LIKE WE USED TO ,,

|| pairing: james "bucky" barnes x gn!reader

|| warnings: this might be ooc, im js getting back into marvel so yeah 🩵

|| word count: 0.5k

The past few days had been quiet. Bucky had just gotten home from a mission with Steve and Sam. As much as he denied it, it really seemed like he was becoming an Avenger. Again, he hated to admit it, but he acted a lot like a hero.

Though, you could go with a bit less worrying. Whenever he left to go for an operation, you were terrified if he would come back or not. You shouldn't be, though. He lived for you. He promised to be alive for you.

Currently, you were in the kitchen. Cutting up some veggies for the pasta you were cooking. Bucky offhandedly mentioned his love for pasta, so everytime he came back from a mission, you made pasta for him.

Footsteps could be heard from the hallway, and Bucky came into view. Wearing his usual black sweatpants and white t-shirt, his hair pulled back into a small ponytail. He'd been growing it out.

"Hey, babe, can you turn the heat of the stove lower?"

He hummed and did as you told before wrapping his arms around your waist. His metal arm was cold compared to his real arm. You didn't mind, but you favoured his real arm. For obvious reasons.

The super soldier pushed his face into the crook of your neck, taking a breath of your scent in as he spoke lowly. "What're you making this time?"

"Carbonara. You want something else?"

"No. I love whatever y'cook, doll."

Your heart fluttered at that, but you just shook your head and finished up chopping the veggies. Gingerly pushing it into the pot and turned to finally put all your attention to your partner.

"How was the mission?"

He grunted in response. A small smile spread across your face. That was better then if it went badly. When the operation went badly, he usually just groaned and paced around the living room.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, the two of you slowly swaying to "We'll Meet Again." When you cooked you loved putting music on. Especially old-timey music. It was so romantic and calming. Another plus was that Bucky knew all the words to the songs.

As the two of you swayed, he hummed quietly. Muttering the words, "we'll meet again, don't know where, don't now when.. But I know we'll meet 'gain some sunny day."

No one would have ever pegged him for a singer. But with you? He was comfortable doing almost anything. He loved humming along to the music he knew. And you loved listening to his usually gruff and cold voice be more soft. Quiet. Calm.

Bucky chuckled before spinning you in the spot, a small yelp leaving your lips and Bucky's smile widened. He got bolder with your moves. Dancing around the kitchen as if he was back in 1943, dancing away at some pub with someone he's going steady with.

He spun you, dipped you and by the end pressed you close to his chest. Placing a small kiss to your forehead as the two of you just stood there quietly.

"Mission must've went super well, huh?"

He snorted and shook his head. "Stop talkin' 'bout work"

"Why?" You teased and kissed his jaw softly. Running your fingers at the back of his head and scratching his scalp gently.

"'Cause I wanna enjoy my time with you."

"Who knew you were such a softie?"

He huffed and let out a small laugh "Oh, shut up and let's keep dancing."

And you did just that.

super short one shot, but i needed to write bout bucky <3

My requests are open!

Requests for-

STRANGER THINGS

Eddie Munson

Billy Hargrove

Steve Harrington

TEEN WOLF

Stiles Stilinski

Liam Dunbar

Theo Raeken

Derek Hale

MARVEL

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Loki Odinson

I won't write smut, or boyxboy, sorry if that inconveniences you, I just don't feel comfortable writing that, and I'm not good with it. I will however write up to the moment and after, but not the actual smut

I also don't write for the actor, just the characters

I will write based off of songs, scenes, movies or shows. Pretty much any concept, I can write.

If you request, please give me a few days, up to 2 days to write, edit and publish your request.

Have a blessed day!!!❤️

What Phone Sex Is Like With…

Bucky Barnes

———————————————————————————

Bucky had been away on a mission for a few weeks, and it took some adjusting for the both of you as it had been a long time since you two had been separated for even more than a few days.

It was lonely not having Bucky around the house, it was too quiet and too void of his comforting smell. You had gotten used to your sort of routine and you missed him dearly.

Somewhere thousands of miles away from his home, Bucky was thinking the exact same thing. He missed you, he missed waking up in the morning and getting to admire you for a little bit before you woke up and started your day. He even missed the cute little line of drool you would sometimes have on your face.

As Bucky thought about all the things he missed about you, he started to think about the way your skin felt on his, the way your hands felt roaming his body while your nails scratched down his back as he rutted against you.

Bucky readjusted himself in his bed as his pajama pants got increasingly tighter. He tried to ignore the feeling of the sudden arousal and will himself to go to sleep as there was a time difference and he didn’t want to disturb the deep sleep you were most likely in.

After about half an hour of tossing and turning Bucky sat up rubbing his face, while he was trying to sleep all the images his mind could conjure up were of you, writhing underneath him softly moaning his name as he touched you.

Which unfortunately for him, didn’t help at all.

The brunette threw the covers off of him, glancing at the clock as he made his way to the bathroom in the hotel he was staying at.

2:30 am. Goddamn it Barnes.

He splashed some cold water on his face trying to cool himself down and snap out of it, but he couldn’t help it. He missed his girl. Sighing after taking in his appearance in the mirror he turned the bathroom light off and returned to bed.

As he slid under the covers he thought about calling you, maybe hearing your voice would help him sleep, maybe not. But then again you were probably sleeping and he would feel terrible for interrupting that just because his dick was hard.

Deciding against it, Bucky slid his hands down into his boxers gently palming his erection. He could feel more blood rush into his cock so he rubbed harder, finally pushing his boxers down and letting his cock spring free. His right hand wrapped around his shaft and began to slowly move up and down not wanting to rush the feeling.

Bucky's lips parted slightly as he focused his mind on memories of you, he could still hear the way you begged him to let you cum as he edged you for the third time one night.

Remembering the sight of the tears of frustration in your eyes made Bucky let out a low groan. The more he thought about you, the faster he pumped until he just couldn’t take anymore, he had to hear your voice.

Bucky grabbed his phone off of the nightstand before finding your name in his contacts, pressing the call button he held the phone up to his ear, his hand still going as he listened to the ringing waiting for you to pick up.

After a few rings you finally answered “Bucky?” your sleep ridden voice came through the phone. “Hey sweetheart” Bucky grunted into the phone, the sound of your voice sending a shockwave through his body.

You could hear Bucky panting through the phone, still half asleep you thought something was wrong “Is everything okay? It’s like 3 in the morning, are you alright?” a soft gasp came through the phone “m’fine doll, I just, just need you so bad right now”

The sleep faded out of your system and was replaced by the tingling feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you finally heard the familiar rhythmic sounds in the background as Bucky moaned and gasped into the phone.

“Are you touching yourself Buck” You knew he was and it wasn’t even a question really, you just wanted to hear his whines as he said it. “Yes” His voice came out cracked “Yes fuck, I am. I couldn’t help it I’ve missed you so much y/n” he breathed. You let out a soft whimper at the way he said your name.

You laid back down in your shared bed, slipping a hand into your underwear as you listened to Bucky pleasure himself on the other end.

“What’s gotten you all worked up like this baby?” you moaned out. Bucky's hips bucked into his hand at the sounds of your moans “You did angel, couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you. Miss that wet little pussy begging for my cock”

Oh God how you loved it when Bucky talked dirty like this. Your hand started to spread the wetness that had pooled in your panties around your pussy just like Bucky's would do.

“Fuck Bucky” you groaned circling your clit with your wet fingers. As you started to pump your fingers inside of your pussy, Bucky could hear the squelching sounds and his mind conjured up a picture of what you had looked like in that moment.

A deep guttural groan came from the soldier and his hand came up to rub his thumb over the tip of his cock, spreading the precum over his shaft.

“Bet you look so fucking good right now doll, can just hear how wet that little cunt is for me. Tell me how wet it is baby” Bucky’s words went straight to your core and your back slightly arched off of your bed “So so wet Buck, need you so bad”

You managed to choke out through your gasps. “Fuck” He groaned “Love how needy and desperate you always sound, like a dirty little slut who’s just begging to be fucked”

Bucky chuckled at the way your breath hitched in your throat at the name he gave you “You like that don’t you, fucking whore” you could practically see the grin on his face as he exploited your desires. “Buck please I’m so close, I can’t-” your voice trailed off into a moan as the knot in your stomach tightened. “You wanna cum?” Bucky grunted out.

You could tell he was getting closer to his own orgasm by the way his voice was slightly strained. “Yes!” you blurted out “Yes please let me cum just-” you grunted, not really sure what you were saying but wanting Bucky to help you to sweet release.

Though you weren’t sure how it was possible, the skin on skin sounds of Bucky's hand on his cock got even faster and his groans turned into whimpers.

“Hang on just a little longer sweetheart. Wanna cum with you” You threw your head back in frustration “Almost there, be my good girl and keep rubbing that clit for me” You moved your fingers in tight circles over your slightly sensitive clit, juices coating your fingers.

By now you had put your phone on speaker, the sounds of Bucky’s and your frequent moans filled the room as you fought to keep yourself from succumbing to an orgasm.

“I can’t hold on any longer James,” you whimpered. Bucky let out a choked gasp “I’m gonna- shit” he breathed “Cum with me y/n” Bucky’s voice cracked as he moaned out your name, thick ropes of cum spilling over his hand and stomach. Listening to Bucky only made another wave of euphoria wash over you as you rode out your orgasm, back arching as your eyes squeezed shut.

As you came down from your high you could faintly hear Bucky praising you “Such a good girl for me sweetheart” and “Always do so well for me” reached your ears over now slight panting and you smiled. Even thousands of miles away and over the phone, Bucky was still providing the sweetest form of aftercare to you.

“Thank you doll” Bucky’s voice rang out. “I really needed that” You heard rustling as he cleaned himself and settled back into bed. As you did the same you asked “Stressed?” A quiet hum came through the phone that was now off speaker “Something like that”

You softly chuckled “Do you wanna talk about it now that you’ve destressed a little bit” Bucky let out his own laugh “Maybe later when I’m home doll”

You yawned tired from the late night activities “I’ll hold you to that” “Get some sleep y/n, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” You hummed in agreement, eyes starting to feel heavy. “I love you” Bucky's voice became deeper as sleep started creeping in “I love you too James”

Pressing the end call button and setting your phone on your nightstand to charge, you pulled your blankets over your shoulders as your eyes slid shut, ready to be another day closer to Bucky coming home.

Take it

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: sexual content 18+, choking kink, breeding kink, explicit language, dom!bucky, daddy kink, a dash of degrading

a/n: honestly kinda love this one, breeding kink bucky is my fav. also the gif is kinda unrelated to the setting, i just love 40’s bucky (this also literally started out as a savitar barry allen imagine lol)

(NOT MY GIF)

“fuck that’s it doll, take it” he grunted as he pounded into your cunt, your hands very tightly intertwined as he made the bed squeak with his thrusts. You moaned at his words, another wave of arousal washed over you “oh fuck, Bucky make me cum, please” You begged already getting close.

He tapped your swollen lips with his thumb “suck” he said. You took his thumb into your mouth, closing your lips around the digit and swirling your tongue. He grunted loudly “that’s a good little girl, doll”

“Just for you James” you moaned out, he gave a particularly hard thrust and you moaned and gasped as you came around him. Bucky leaned down slightly and wrapped his hand around your throat “yeah, you liked that didn’t you Princess?”

You whined in response “oh god yes, harder buck” Bucky squeezed your throat a little bit tighter and did just what you asked. His hand went behind your head and his head fell into your marked up neck, as he thrusted faster and faster grunting into your ear.

“You want me to cum inside that sweet pussy, doll, hmm?” He asked, breath fanning your face. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes and nodded. A smirk spread across his face “then you gotta cum one more time for me”

Bucky dropped his hand between your bodies, his thumb started rubbing circles on your now very sensitive clit “Fuck, James” you gasped “that’s it baby, tell me how good it feels” he grunted in your ear.

“So good, daddy” his hips stuttered at the name you just moaned out. “What did you say?” He rasped “say it again” you moaned again, too wrapped up in pleasure to answer him. Bucky gripped your hair tightly “i said, say it again, y/n” “Daddy” you groaned.

“There you go, such a good slut for daddy aren’t you?” You gasped at the new name given and felt yourself get all that much closer to your second orgasm. “You gonna cum again baby? Aw go ahead slut, cum for me”

He moved his hips faster, bringing you closer and closer before you let out what felt like the most pornographic moan you had ever let slip and came all over Bucky’s cock.

“Fuck” Bucky groaned, as he helped you through your orgasm he chased his own. You could feel his cock twitching as he got closer. Your hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him closer to you “c’mon daddy, fill me up. I know you can, please i want it” you pleaded in his ear. “Goddamn” he whispered

“Wanna get you pregnant” the brunette grunted, his hand bunched up your hair and tugged as he came inside of your swollen cunt “Fuck, y/n ” he chuckled “oh so so good baby” he laid on top of you for a bit catching his breath, before he flopped on the bed beside you.

He pulled you into his now slightly sweaty chest and gave you a sweet kiss “that was amazing, thank you doll”

“Did you mean it?” He titled his head down to look at you “mean what sweetheart?” You tilted your head up “that you wanna get me pregnant”

“Absolutely I did, I think you’d look beautiful pregnant with our kid” he smiled as you blushed at his statement. “I’d love to have a family with you” you leaned up and kissed him softly.

“Also we should definitely keep the new names in. You know, for research purposes”

He let out an adorable chuckle

“Anndd moments gone

Super Soldiers

pairings: bucky barnes x female!reader steve rogers x female!reader

word count: 1295

warnings: sexual content 18+ (IF YOU ARE A MINOR DNI) threesome, choking kink, dom!bucky, dom!steve, explicit language, kinda sexual slow burn

again if you are under the age of 18 please do not read as this is purely for sexual purposes.

and as always please do not copy or repost my work in any way without my consent.

(NOT MY GIF)

“Well doll, would you look at you, so pretty all sprawled out for us like that” a deep voice said, a second after you could feel metal fingers run over your bottom lip as you whimpered. “Doesn’t she Stevie?” Bucky adressed the other soldier in the room.

“Shes absolutely gorgeous, Buck” in the dark room you could hear his footsteps getting closer to the bed. The tall blonde ran his hand from your ankle, all the way up to your chest. His eyes on your face as he traced his thumb repeatedly over the now hard bud, making your back arch.

You let out a moan before Steve moved his hand up to the collum just below your throat “please” you whispered, he swallowed at the sound of you so wrecked for him, then he allowed his fingers to curl around your throat and apply just the right amount of pressure.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt the delicious feel of his hand on your throat. He leaned down, pressing his warm lips to yours and you moaned into his mouth as your hand flew up to a head of short hair. “Steve” you moaned against his mouth.

As the kiss began to get more heated, Steve slowly pushed you back on the bed. As his lips started on your neck you heard a low groan from beside the bed. You turned your head to the side and saw that at some point, Bucky had pulled up a chair and was watching you and Steve for a bit before joining in.

Your eyes closed as you felt the bed shift and then a second pair of lips on your neck, Steve trailed back up and captured your lips in his as Bucky trailed down your body. The soldier took his sweet time peppering kisses along your stomach and tighs, down your legs and back up again. You squirmed at the feeling of Bucky’s hot kisses on your bare skin and that fact alone made his cock twitch in his pants.

Steve kissed your forehead and shushed you, telling you that you’d just have to be patient. And in that moment the brunette soldier dropped his head between your legs, licking, sucking, biting, you name it, that man was doing it to you.

You threw your head back and let out a loud moan at the relief of his hot tounge on your sweet pussy. Steve shuffled down the bed and the men shifted so he could fit. He added a thick finger in as Bucky lapped at your clit. As the pleasure washed over you in waves, you weaved a hand in each man’s hair, tugging and pulling trying to get as close to them as possible.

You could feel yourself getting closer to your peak as Steve added another finger inside of you, Steve knew it too when he felt you clenching around his fingers. Bucky sucked your sensitive clit into his mouth and you started to teter on the edge. “You wanna cum don’t you sweetheart? It’s okay, let go for us honey”

Bucky hummed, sending vibrations throughout your body and right as you were about to cum, he reached up and wrapped his right hand around your throat. You grabbed onto his wrist as you came hard all over Steves fingers.

Steve cooed and worked you through your high. Bucky pulled away and replaced his tounge with his metal fingers working your swollen clit, the sudden cool feel of it made you jump “there you go doll, such a good girl” Bucky praised as you came down, breathing uneven and heavy.

You hummed, eyes half closed and heavy. As your eyes closed all the way, you felt a hand on your cheek “wake up doll, we’re not done with you just yet” you peeked at the two super soldiers “there she is” Bucky teased.

“We want you to cum at least one more time for us okay, sweetheart” Steve whispered in your ear sending a rush of blood down to your core. Steve turned you so you were on all fours. You could hear the sound of two belts hitting to floor, one after the other. Bucky slid underneath you, cock very erect and tip slightly purple.

Steve kneeled behind you and pressed a few kisses to your back, he rubbed his cock through your lips getting his cock slick. Bucky pressed a kiss to your throat as he pumped his cock a few times. “Ready doll?” you nodded frantically, body already trembling in anticipation.

Both men pushed into you at the same time, groans coming from all three of you at the feeling. “mm so damn wet” bucky groaned. They stilled to let you adjust to their sizes, the stretching feeling a little painful but you loved it all the same. After a minute you could feel your body relax, the needy feeling coming back. “Move, please” you groaned.

“That feel good sweetheart?” he panted into your ear, your eyes fluttered closed and you could feel Buckys eyes on you. Your brain so foggy, you forgot to answer Steves question. Bucky grunted underneath you giving a particulary hard thrust “Steve asked you a question doll”

“Yes, yes it does, it feels so good steve please” Steve chuckled before he began to rub harder, tighter circles on your clit. One of Bucky’s hands came up to your chest and squeezed your breast, rubbing his thumb over your nipple.

You could feel the familiar feeling bubble up in your abdomen at all the stimulation, and Bucky and Steve could feel it too. “You gonna cum baby? C’mon i know you can do it, cum all over our cocks” Bucky rasped from below you “Be a good girl doll, let it all go” Steve chimed.

One of your hands flew to Bucky’s shoulder and the other grasped Steves hand on your hip tightly as you came on the super soldiers cock, moaning and trembling as you clenched around both of them. “So good, gonna cum inside of you honey” Steve grunted, thrusting faster “me too” Bucky panted.

After a few minutes of very hot panting and grunts from the two super soldiers, they both came, cocks twitching and spilling inside of you, countless praises spilling from their mouths “Oh god yes, honey” another groan “fuck, feels so good doll, god your so beautiful” the three of you stayed like that for a few minutes catching your breaths.

Steve planted another kiss to your back before he lifted himself up and pulled out of you, Bucky following a second after. He helped you off of him and onto your back as Steve went to the bathroom. He came back with two washcloths and handed one to Bucky, kissing your cheek as he cleaned you off.

Steve joined you two back in bed and helped Bucky pull the sheets over you three as you were already starting to drift off. “You okay doll?” the brunette asked softly, you nodded “more than okay Buck” The two men laughed “I think we should do this way more often” Bucky said

“Buck, we do this a few nights a week”

“Whatever, punk”

When your flatmate is a jerk.

James Barnes (Bucky) is your new flatmate and so far living together has not gone very well.

2K.

PART 2

Warnings: Not a smut, kinda soft but with a little bit of spicy. (Eng not my first language.)

You hadn't even been living together for two months and you already couldn't stand that asshole named James Buchanan Barnes. The cost of living in New York was exorbitant and when your flatmate left you alone without a previous notice you had no choice but to accept the first stranger who answered your ad, well the first one who didn't look like a serial killer or a pervert. How wrong you were… Sleeping at night had become impossible, when James didn't bring a girl, he spent the nights tossing and turning in his room. That man didn't know what rest meant. If things went on like that, your bosses were going to throw you out of work, nobody wanted a zombie for an employee. 

You needed a way to bring the matter up and make it clear to your flatmate that he had to learn to be less noisy. But how could you look him in the face and tell him that his hoarse moans were keeping you awake at night? 

Well ,that morning was going to be the definitive one, during breakfast you would tell him. The night before the blue-eyed man hadn't brought any friend with him, so you wouldn't have to face a naked stranger, just a freshly risen James, with tousled hair, no shirt, and grey sweatpants that left little to the imagination. Shit, if you hated him so much for depriving you of a good night's rest, why did you bite your lip until it almost bled when you were in the same room?

"Good morning," his deep morning voice caught you off guard, making you almost choke with your coffee when he showed up in the kitchen. 

 “Morning” was the only thing you could mumble, all the determination you had gathered a few minutes before, disappeared in the presence of that man. “I was about to make pancakes, do you want some?” you managed to pull yourself together, your main idea was to soften him up with some treat and then drop the bomb.

“Sure” he accepted, a little suspicious. The fake smile on your face did not go unnoticed. Normally the only thing he got out of you in the mornings was a grunt or two.

You turned your back to him to focus on making breakfast, you just hoped you didn't burn anything, you knew your kindness hadn't gone unnoticed and James was analysing you from head to toe, making your stomach tingle from that intense stare.

You devoured the pancakes in complete silence. In the short time you had lived together you hadn’t found anything in common, so apart from things to do with the rent or the bills, you had nothing to talk about. But Barnes didn't seem to mind, he was too captivated by the way you were sucking on the honey-coated fork, although it didn't escape his notice that you wanted to tell him something, even he could hear the gears in your head turning.  

"Just say it." he grunted as your tongue went from playing with the fork to your lips, that game was starting to cause him problems in his sweatpants, and it wasn't easy trying to hide his half-erection. 

“Eh?” your innocent expression made him even more upset. 

"If you have something to say to me, say it now, I don't have all morning," he sounded more abrupt than he meant it to, but that only made all your pent-up rage of those days come out of your mouth, unfiltered. 

"All right, that's what you want... how about you keep your fucking voice down when you bring someone to the flat or better yet, why don't you join one of those sex addiction groups? Because you've got a fucking problem and I'm not going to put up with any more sleepless nights," you blurted out without thinking, your eyes fixed on the blue ones that seemed to open wider and wider with every word that came out of your mouth. 

Barnes' astonished face turned into a grin of amusement as he recovered from your speech, "Ohh, honey, I think you're overreacting. You're not jealous that I'm the only one having fun at night, are you?” he took you by your chin, caressing your jawline.

“How dare you?” you slapped him away and you were really close to punch him in his pretty face but you restrained yourself. Revenge sounded better. If he wanted to go the hard way that's how it would be, you were going to give him a taste of his own medicine.

***

You had been chatting with a guy for a few weeks, he was cute but just not interesting enough to want to get to know him more. He had insisted a couple of times to meet and you finally found the reasons to do so. That idiot James was going to have to eat his words. Who did he think he was? The worst thing is that you hadn't been able to stop thinking about Barnes all day. You only wanted to get revenge, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that that caress had left you longing for something you couldn't yet put into words, but your imagination had, and it had given you a very clear picture of what it would be like to have James on top of you. Fuck! You just wanted to forget about it, and focus on your revenge. The date was set up, you and that guy were to meet at a bar near your house, just a little warm up before taking him with you and show Bucky how things worked.

A few hours later you were playing with your Martini. That man was really boring; he only knew to talk about him and his exes. He was so absorbed in himself that he didn't care if you were listening or not and you only could think about running away, but you had already gone too far... With a coy smile you touched his arm and batting your lashes you tried to get his attention. "I know a better place to talk." you said almost without recognizing your own voice. "My flat is very close... What do you say?" you made yourself sick. Why is it that deep down all felt so wrong?

By the time you got to your flat you were shaking in your boots, you were regretting your wonderful idea, but your stubbornness prevented you from letting James get away with it. As soon as you turned the key the last thing you expected to find was your enemy waiting for you to return, or that was the impression you got when your gazes met, Barnes had got up from the sofa and seemed to want to say something to you, but it was enough for the dark-haired man to see your companion for that feeling to disappear. "Who is this guy?" James asked with his worst manners. 

"Oh, Hi, I didn't know you'd be home" you lied through your teeth. "We don't want to disturb you, my friend and I will be in my room." you tried to sound as innocent as possible. It's fair to say that you had completely forgotten the guy's name. 

"Y/n can I talk to you for a moment?" James approached you, blocking your way to your room, but you didn't have time to dodge him because all you could think about was how good he smelled. Someone had taken a shower and his cologne was knocking out all your common sense. It was lavender and mint, right? At that point the other guy seemed to have ceased to exist. 

"We can talk later." you managed to articulate as you came to your senses. 

"Don't do this..." he stopped you by grabbing your wrist but not forcibly, just to stop you from running off with that loser. His voice sounded almost the same as always, but if you hadn't been so nervous you would have noticed that his eyes were tinged with desperation.  

"Okay, okay, what's going on here?" That big mouth remembered how to talk. The weird vibes you two were giving was too much to handle for his small brain. James stepped away from you and you froze, not knowing what to say. "Is this some weird thing like couples who like to see each other with someone else?" he added, leaving you dumbfounded. Before you could react, your flatmate did. 

"Get out of my fucking house!" he imposed, bringing out for the first time the soldier he once was. One of the few things you knew about him was that he was a veteran, but that was something he never used to talk about. His dog tags hanging around his neck gave you an idea.

Then, it all happened so fast that it seemed unreal. Barnes was shoving your date out and he was being more dick than ever. After slamming the door shut, James cornered you against it. "What the fuck was that all about?" he questioned, blocking your escape with his muscular arms. He was pissed off, you could tell by the swollen vein on his forehead and how his breath had become heavier. 

"I just wanted to have some fun..." you managed to articulate with your eyes locked on the ground as you were unable to look him in the face, too embarrassed by everything that had just happened. "Besides, I don't owe you any explanation." you dared to add. 

"So you want to have fun, right?" he seemed to snap, "I can fix that." his voice lowered a few tones and your whole body shivered when he made you look at him. "You only have to ask nicely..." his gaze looked wolfish and hungry. If he needed a reaction from you to keep going, the way you were biting your lips was enough, but at that point he wanted to make you beg. 

“Why should I?” you arched your brows with all the strength you had left. He was driving you crazy, but in a completely different way than before, however you didn't want to give up so easily. Barnes stroked your arm, barely touching you, but immediately causing goose bumps all over your skin. 

“Because that's all you can think about since this morning.” he saw right through you, but it didn't save him from being a jerk. That was enough… You were tired of him playing with you.

“Fuck you!” you pushed him with all your might, but before you could get away, he lifted you over his shoulder and carried you to his room. On the way you kicked as much as you could, but it was like hitting a wall. He left you on the edge of his bed, and crouched down in front of you with his hands up, wanting you to know that he was coming in peace. “I know I owe you an apology." he looked genuinely sorry, “This morning I behaved like a dick.”. 

“Only this morning?” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze because you knew you would be unable to resist his puppy eyes. James sat down next to you and let out a low snort.

"I know I haven't been the best flatmate." Then he plopped down on the bed and his gaze was lost somewhere on the ceiling. "I have no excuse, but this is the first time I've lived with anyone after leaving the army." he confessed and it felt like that was the first time you had a real conversation. "I guess I've lost my manners."

You dropped down next to him, mirroring him. "Your manners aren't the problem, you just need to stop moaning so loudly," you chuckled to yourself and rolled onto your side to make yourself more comfortable, finding yourself face to face with James. You felt your cheeks flush, you had never seen Barnes like that before, without that armour that seemed to accompany him everywhere he went. "I'll try my best." he laughed with you. 

You let silence fall between both of you and just stared at each other. Without really knowing how, the distance between you was getting shorter, your eyes kept going back and forth from James' eyes to his lips, he seemed to notice and with a soft grin in his face he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

HE NAKEYYY🤺

Spicy Brownies

18+ 

High Bucky x reader 

Remember Spicy Plants ? Here’s spicy brownies. Welcome to another crack fic. 

Imagine the first time Bucky tries edibles. He knew they would hit differently than smoking but he didn’t think much would happen so he had another. Then another. He was a super solider so he’d be fine. So he had one more. 

He was fine.

He was totally and completely fine. 

“Y/N!”

“Y/N Y/N Y/N!!”

“Oh my GOD!”

You and Steve sat in the living room, giving each other panicked looks hearing Bucky yelling from your shared bedroom. You both sprinted to the elevator and ran down the hall, bursting through the door, unsure of what was going on. 

“What is it Buck- oh my god” 

“What the hell…” Steve blinked, slowly backing away while you cocked your head to the side, observing a very naked Bucky looking at the mirror. 

“He nakeyyyy” Bucky whispered, staring at himself in the mirror wide eyed, cupping his own cheeks in utter shock. “Y/n, there’s a naked man in our room” 

Keep reading

nowhere for you to stay (bucky barnes x reader)

content warnings: angst, allusions to depression (bucky, not reader), sad bucky, mental health, lack of self-care, female reader, this is basically just me venting about the terrible ending that they gave steve (he didn’t deserve this and neither did bucky nor me)  word count: 1.5k a/n: so, i promise, i really am trying to finish my wips, but this came to me today while listening to renegade, also sorry for being m.i.a. for like three weeks but I spent easter with my family and had to recharge lol and then uni started again, so that kinda kicked my ass a little also, i watched thunderbolts* yesterday and it was great!!! (dw, this is spoiler-free)

You knocked on his door – three sharp, distinct sounds – and waited.  For a few seconds you entertained the thought that Bucky wasn’t home. That he was out and about, doing something with his life. Maybe he had picked himself up and gone to the gym, or maybe he had finally deleted the various food delivery apps and instead had gone grocery shopping. But there was a faint whirring, locked behind the old wooden door to his apartment, a sound that belonged to a light turned on. The complex in which Bucky resided was old – not as old as the man himself but certainly bordering on it. Windows creaked when the wind was strong, the lighting flickered, and pipes groaned during the coldest months.   He had moved here after returning from Wakanda and you had helped him set up his living space. You had begged and pleaded with him to rent a place closer to you, or to maybe even move in with you. But he had just shook his head and had looked at you with those heartbroken, empty eyes that seemed a little less blue and a little more grey since Steve was gone. So, you had helped carry the sparse amount of furniture and décor he had up to the fourth-floor apartment, had sorted spice containers of which you were sure that he hadn’t used them yet and had presented Bucky with a plant as a housewarming gift. He had smiled sadly and thanked you and you had known that the plant was not going to make it more than a week. Every day you called, every day he answered – for a limited time. Sometimes, the exchange was as short as thirty seconds, just enough for you to hear that he was still alive and not planning on changing that.  Once a week, on Saturdays, you took the subway to visit him, to stay with him for a few hours. You never managed to convince him to get out of the apartment with you but at least you saw him.  The last week had been different. He hadn’t answered your calls, only sent short messages (“I’m fine – can’t talk right now” or “let me call you back later”) and your heart ached every time the busy signal had echoed from your speaker. Of course, you hoped that it meant that he was actually busy, distracted, doing something.  But the faint buzz of a burning lamp in his apartment told you that he was home. No matter what, Bucky always made sure to turn off all lights and close all windows before he left his place, so he must have been ignoring the knocking.  To his credit, you were a day earlier than usual. It was Friday instead of Saturday, and you hadn’t announced yourself either, so he wasn’t expecting you. The silence, the unanswered calls had given you anxiety induced stomach pains, so you had taken the day off from work and had gotten an Uber to his place.

You knocked again and lightly cleared your throat – a chance for Bucky’s enhanced hearing to place you and for him to open the door. Still, the knob didn’t twist, the many locks he had put on additionally didn’t rattle and you could have sworn that the whirring of the lamp you had heard earlier died down. “Bucky,” you called out, “It’s me. Can you please open the door?” You waited. Seconds that felt like minutes ticked by and your hands got clammy as you shifted on your feet. “Bucky, you gave me a key. But I don’t wanna use it, so, please just let me in. Bu-,” before you could finish his name, you heard a series of noises. A pair of feet shuffling over creaky old floorboards, and what sounded like dishes being set down in the sink. Then you heard a window being ripped open – the frame squeaked terribly – and then the footsteps came closer.  One lock was unlocked, then the second one. A metallic clank sounded and then the doorknob turned.  The door opened with a squeak that made your teeth hurt.  The apartment was dark, and despite the cold breeze that the recently opened window let in, it smelled dusty and faintly like old takeout food.  “Hey.” One thing about Bucky is that he just could not lose his charm. He stood before you, eyebags darker than ever, brown curls unkempt and knotted, and his scruff on his cheeks a little longer than usual and asymmetrical – as if he had laid on one side for too long. 

Despite his appearance, he leaned against the doorframe with a trace of his characteristic smile turning up his mouth corners.  “Hi,” you replied, slightly perplexed.  “I didn’t realise it was already Saturday,” he said after a few seconds of silence and attempted to swipe his hair from his forehead until he realised that it was too unbrushed to run his fingers through it.  He awkwardly dropped his hand but gave you another smile. “It’s not,” you answered and peered past him. Before you could properly glance into his apartment, he moved into your eyeline, a determined look in his eyes.  “Oh. Then what are you doing here?” He asked, shifting again when you tried to steal another glimpse into his living space. You took a few seconds before you replied during which you struggled not to be offended by his question.  “You never called me back,” you explained then, and locked eyes with him. Heat rose on his face as you bluntly called him out and his hands again found their way into his hair, and again, he had to drop them back to his sides as he couldn’t nervously run them through.  “Yeah, no, I meant to, but I… I was busy,” he stammered, blocking your third attempt to look past him.  “Okay,” you murmured slowly, “Can you… would you mind letting me in?” Bucky chewed on his lip for a few seconds, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to find a way to let you down gently. “Uh, now’s not a good time.”

Your heart sank even further as you tried to come up with reasonings with his behaviour. “Are you-,” you began, and stared at your feet instead of meeting his eyes, “Is someone in there with you?” His eyes went round with surprise before he composed himself.  “What? No, no, I’m… I’m alone in here, but it’s just not, uh, a good time, like I said.” A little bit of the tightness in your chest loosened as he genuinely looked shocked at your implication. But you still couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t let you in. “Are you leaving? Like, are you going somewhere?” You inquired then, trying to find a reason that would satisfy you. Bucky stayed quiet before he shook his head.  “No, nothing like that. Listen, doll, I just… I haven’t really prepared for visitors, or anything like that, so it’d be great if… um –,“ before he finished speaking, you could tell that he was having a hard time sending you back home. He knew how long the ride here was and that you usually worked on Fridays. “it’s just not a good time,” he concluded.

There was a faint line, so thin that it was barely visible, that you were threatening to cross right now. A line between what Bucky allowed you to see on the Saturdays when you visited him, and the rest of his life.  “Just let me in,” you whispered. “Let me… help you.” The conflict in his eyes played out like a storm. Vulnerability and stubbornness raged against each other, as he seemingly weighed his options: allowing you in or pushing you away. Both seemed to frighten him as you heard how his metal arm whirred while he clenched and unclenched his fists. “Alright,” he mumbled and slowly stepped back. His apartment was in a terrible state. For someone who had very little furnishings, a tiny amount of clothes and basically no personal belongings it should have been easy to basically produce a clinically clean space. Instead, you saw instant food packaging, empty beer cans and ripped paper shreds sprawled across his couch table. You recognised the paper as an article about Steve – honouring his legacy and paying tribute to his sacrifice. You had read the same one a few days ago and had cried until your head hurt. The sofa cushions were crumbled up and uneven. A thin blanket laid on the floor as if it had fallen off or been pushed off in a hurry. He must have slept there instead of in his bed.  The kitchen door was half closed, and through the gap you saw dishes towering dangerously, a towel haphazardly slung over them in an attempt to hide them. You turned to face Bucky, who refused to meet your eye. Instead, he clenched his jaw so tight that it must have hurt and stared out the opened window. “Bucky,” you whispered.  “Like I said, I didn’t know you were coming.” His tone was defensive and sharp, but his eyes glistened as the shame burned in him. “Bucky, look at me,” you pleaded and took a few steps towards him. “This place is a mess,” he croaked, his voice heavy with unshed tears, “There’s nowhere for you to stay.” “But I’ll stay anyway,” you murmured and rested your hand on his cheek. “I’ll stay and help you.”

Piece of art 💓🦇

unsolved masterlist

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse.

(Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, horror/paranormal elements

Disclaimer: no plot just vibes <3 it's just another banger dynamic that i loved and therefore had to write a garbage fic about. This is, in no way, a literary masterpiece so just be warned.

Here’s my Ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Bucky is gorgeous and he needs to be reminded everyday 💓‼️

More to Love

Summary : Bucky marries you, someone who shows love through food. When his body changes, you show him he’s cared for no matter what.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x wife!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : FLUFF! Hurt/Comfort, Body Image Issues, Insecurity, Established Relationship, Weight Gain, implied sex, cursing, Food as Love Language.

Word count : 2.4k

Note : If you’d like to be on the taglist, message me! It gets lost in the comments sometimes. Enjoy!

Bucky hadn’t meant to gain weight.

It wasn’t like he woke up one day and decided, hey, let’s pack it on.

It crept in, slowly, like moss between cracks, or rust under paint. At first, it was just little things: seconds at dinner, not skipping dessert, an appetiser here and there.

See, when you and Bucky first started dating, it didn’t take long for him to realise that food was your love language. You cooked like it was second nature—every ingredient always added with care. He’d come home from missions or long training days to find you in the kitchen with your sleeves rolled up, humming to some old tune while stirring sauce or kneading dough. And your smile always lit up when you fed him, like watching him eat something you made was its own kind of joy. And Bucky, who’d spent so much of his life surviving, hadn’t known how hungry he was for that kind of care until you started filling his plate and his heart at the same time.

Somewhere between your late-night pastas and Sunday roasts, his shirts started to fit tighter around the middle. The scale ticked up a few numbers. He still trained, but it was different now. He wasn’t on a calorie deficit, and he was doing things for functional and not aesthetic purposes. He focused on Pull-ups, sparring, lifting until his arms couldn’t take any more. He could throw a grown man across the room. Probably you too, and that wasn’t a fantasy you were opposed to.

But even when his body changed, and time went by, your cooking didn’t stop. If anything, after you got married, it grew more intentional. You experimented more— comfort dishes from his childhood, thick stews you imagined his man might've made, and big, carb-heavy meals to help him recover after a mission. You packed him leftovers in little glass containers, sometimes with a note tucked in the lid. You didn’t just feed his body. You fed his memory, his heart, his right to be human again.

Still.

He’d catch his reflection in the bathroom mirror, shirtless, sweaty from a workout, and stare at his stomach. 

He hated that it made him feel weak. Sloppy. 

“Used to be leaner,” he muttered once, toweling off after an especially brutal workout session. 

You rolled your eyes, but with love, and tossed another towel at his chest. “Yeah? Well, I used to think I liked abs, but turns out I like a powerhouse husband who can deadlift a damn car more.”

That earned you a faint smile, but it didn’t erase the dread in his eyes— the one that said you’re lying, or you’re just saying that to make me feel better.

You weren’t.

God, you weren’t.

Because Bucky Barnes built like a brick shithouse? Bucky Barnes with thick arms and wide shoulders and thighs like tree trunks and a stomach that was less abs and more functional muscle? He was the kind of man you could climb like a jungle gym and bury your face against to feel safe. That strength wasn’t just aesthetic— it was real. 

And every meal you cooked was another way of telling him so. Every tray of roasted veggies, every slow-cooked braise or pan of cinnamon rolls was a reminder: You’re still cared for. You’re still mine.

To be fair, he’d never been satisfied with his body, not really. Not when it was used as a weapon. Not when it was hyper-lean, a machine starving for control. And not now, when he felt like losing the only grip he’d ever had on himself.

Then came the movie night.

You were watching some dumb action flick, all glossy lighting and guys with chiseled jaws and ten-pack abs. The kind of thing that didn’t usually bother you. 

C’mon, watching a superhero movie while being married to one? It was kind of surreal, kind of stupid. 

You’d whipped up a bowl of nachos earlier, layered with roasted veggies, black beans, just enough cheese to feel indulgent, but still a net benefit for your body, the way Bucky liked. He’d been halfway through the bowl, one hand resting on your thigh, when he suddenly stopped eating.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Maybe he was full. Maybe the movie was just boring. But then you felt the way he shifted like his body was trying to shrink.

You turned your head to see him.

His eyes flicked to the screen. Then to the bowl. Then to his stomach. And then away.

You paused the movie.

“Buck?” you asked gently.

He didn’t look at you. “I’m fine.” He said it too quickly.

You set the nachos aside and turned toward him. “What’s going on?”

He hesitated.

“Look at those guys,” he said, motioning toward the frozen screen. “All shredded. And I’m just—” He trailed off, letting the bitterness finish the sentence for him.

Your heart broke.

You reached over and rested your hand on his chest, right where his heart beat under your palm.

You frowned in that goddammit I love you, why don’t you see what I see? kind of way.

You didn’t say anything right away, but moved closer, settled into his lap, and rested your forehead to his. 

“Bucky,” you whispered, voice soft as a feather, “you could have abs again tomorrow and I wouldn’t love you more than I do right now.”

He swallowed hard. 

“You say that now,” he insisted. “But maybe one day you’ll wake up and realise you’re married to some washed-up vet with a gut and a metal arm.”

You cupped his face firmly and made him look at you.

“Hey,” you scolded playfully, “Don’t you dare talk about my husband like that.”

A ghost of a laugh bubbled out of him. 

“You carry people out of burning buildings, Bucky. You wrestle Walker for fun and win more than half the time.” That earned you another chuckle. “You’ve got a body that’s survived hell and back. And you still use it to hold me like I’m the most fragile thing in the world.”

He looked like he didn’t know whether to cry or pull you into his arms and never let go. So you did it for him— you held him close, kissed the curve of his neck where tension still pulled on his muscles.

“You are so hot, Bucky Barnes,” you whispered. “So fucking hot. Built like a damn tank. Fuckin’ making me feel like the luckiest woman alive.”

He buried his face in your shoulder then, arms wrapping tight around you, so you didn’t move for a while.

He held onto you like you were tethering him to the Earth. His arms were so big, so safe and real. 

Eventually, his rapid breathing slowed. Then, slowly so as not to startle him, you leaned back just enough to look at him. His eyes were pink, glassy, and still a little distant.

“C’mere,” you whispered, taking his hand.

Bucky didn’t ask where you were going. He just followed you, quiet and trusting, fingers interlaced with yours. You led him into the bedroom, and he paused near the mirror at the side of your shared bed.

“I don’t—”

“I know,” you said. “But I want to show you something.”

You stood behind him at first, wrapping your arms around his thick waist, your cheek resting between his shoulder blades. He tensed up at his own reflection. You could feel it in the way his shoulders were bracing for impact.

But instead of asking him to look, you slowly stepped around him, sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled him gently toward you.

He didn’t resist.

You kissed the underside of his forearm first, the one made of flesh. Then his metal hand. You worked your way up, past scars and veins and muscle, until he was standing between your knees, and you lifted up his shirt and lowered his sweatpants just a bit, until you were kissing the stretch of skin just above his waistband.

Then, higher.

His stomach rose and fell under your lips.

You kissed the curve of it. One, then another. A third, right by his belly button. Your hands held his hips like he was loved. 

“You think this makes you less?” you said in disbelief, your breath warm against him. “Because all I see is more. More to hold. More to love. More of you.”

Bucky’s fingers twitched at his sides. He was stock-still, as if when he moved, he might fall apart. You looked up at him and saw the tears gathering again.

“Every inch of you is mine to love,” you whispered, “and you don’t get to tell me which ones I can’t.”

A choked sound made it last his lips. 

He dropped to his knees in front of you and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face against your chest like he was starved for touch.

“I don’t deserve you,” he mumbled, voice breaking at the seams .

You kissed the top of his head.

“Tough,” you whispered into his hair. “You’re stuck with me. And so is that stomach. And that chest. And fuck— those thighs.”

He huffed a laugh against your skin. “You like the thighs, huh?”

“Obsessed.” You nuzzled into his hair. “Do you even know what it does to me, watching you exist in this body like it was built for loving me?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you. His cheeks were pink, and for the first time that night, you saw something wonder bloom behind the disappointment in his eyes.

You leaned in again, your lips brushing over his—soft first. It deepened the moment he kissed you back. It wasn’t desperate, not yet. 

Just… vulnerable. 

It was as if everything unsaid between you was being poured into it, every little bit of doubt and love and hunger bleeding through.

His hands found your hips, fingers flexing like he couldn’t believe you were real. You felt him, too—not just the muscle, but the man who wanted, who needed to be seen, to be held, to be devoured.

“You drive me insane,” you whispered between kisses, your hands running up under his shirt, palming heat and muscle and that slight softness you loved more than you could say. 

He groaned low in his throat, and you felt it reverberate all the way down. 

You tugged his shirt up and over his head. You bit your lip as he fixed his posture, solid and built like sin.

God, you couldn't get enough of him. He had thighs thick enough to crush, arms big enough to cage you in. You ran your palms down his chest, over the swell of his sides, and kissed just above his waistband again.

“I want all of this,” you whispered. “Want to feel it. Fuckin’ climb it, baby.”

That did it.

He leaned forward before picking you up like you weighed nothing. You let out a gasp as he plopped you on the bed. His mouth was back on yours in an instant, kisses turning rougher and hungrier as his hands roamed  with that same desperate worship you gave him.

And when his thigh slid between yours, thick and commanding, you nearly whimpered.

“Bucky—” your voice broke on his name.

He pulled back just enough to growl, “You love this?” His thigh pressed harder, “Love how big and strong I am for you?”

You could barely think, could only nod, fingers tangled in his hair, body arching to meet his.

“Say it.”

“I love it,” you moaned. “I love the way you take up space. I want you to break me in half.”

His blue eyes darkened, his grip tightening just slightly. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Then he kissed you again, and there was no more sound except for bodies moving like they were made to fit, made to ruin each other sweetly.

And when he finally, finally settled over you like the living embodiment of every gentle and savage thing you even loved—you whispered against his ear, “Don’t hold back.”

He didn’t.

—

You woke up to sunlight cutting through the curtains, the kind of light that felt too ethereal to feel real.

Bucky was already up.

He was standing, shirtless, hair still sleep-mussed, his sleep trousers hanging low on his hips, metal arm catching a glint of light as he rubbed at the back of his neck. You watched him from the bed for a minute.

He was staring at the mirror.

And not with that same bitter expression he usually did. This time… it was different. His brow was still furrowed, sure, but he looked… thoughtful. He looked like he was seeing something new.

Or maybe just seeing it the way you had all along.

There were faint bruises along his hips—your marks. Scratches across his back, red and already rapidly healing thanks to the serum, that they would be gone before the day. His skin was still flushed in places, the way it always got after you touched him like you meant it, like every inch of him was holy ground. 

You let the silence steep, just long enough to not startle him. “Staring at yourself like you’re in love, Barnes,” you finally mumbled sleepily from the pillows.

Bucky turned, but not ashamed. His eyes met yours across the room, and god—there it was. 

A smile.

“Maybe,” he said. His eyes dropped to his stomach, his chest, his body— painted in proof of your love last night. Then he looked at you, still tangled in the sheets, bare-legged, cheek creased from the pillow, looking at him like he was the answer to a prayer you hadn’t even known you wanted.

He shrugged, but it wasn’t dismissive. More like he didn’t know how to put it into words yet.

You sat up and let the sheet fall a little. His eyes flicked down and lingered, mouth parting, even after all this time.

“You didn’t seem to mind this body last night,” he said, quieter and teasing.

You gave him a look—are you serious?—then got up and walked across the room. You stood in front of him and slid your hands up the planes of his torso, over his stomach, then around to his back.

“Bucky,” you said, lips brushing his collarbone, “I wrote scripture out of this body last night.”

He laughed an open, sleepy-morning laugh, like you’d summoned it right out of his ribs. He ducked his head into your neck and held you for a second, arms around your waist.

When he pulled back, you kissed him once, then you glanced toward the mirror.

“Go ahead,” you whispered, brushing your fingers over his stomach. “Smile at yourself again.”

He did.

And he didn’t look away.

-end.

Extra Notes : This was really special to write, especially with so many fics like this going around! I used to have an unhealthy obsession with working out purely for aesthetics, but a few years ago, after moving out of my home country, I started reconnecting with my culture’s food. Cooking and eating became a way to feel close to home, so my body changed! I also shifted toward weight training and functional exercise, and while I’m definitely more muscular than lean now, it took me a while to realise this version of me is so much healthier than when I was stuck in an obsessive calorie deficit. Remember, bodies change, and I find our inherent ability to be look so different and still be worthy of love wonderful!

General Bucky taglist:

@hotlinepanda @snflwr-vol6 @ruexj283 @2honeybees @read-just-cant

 @shanksstrawhat @mystictf @globetrotter28 @thebuckybarnesvault@average-vibe

@winchestert101 @mystictf @globetrotter28 @shanksstrawhat @scariusaquarius

@reckless007 @hextech-bros @daydreamgoddess14 @96jnie @pono-pura-vida

@buckyslove1917 @notsostrangerthing @flow33didontsmoke @qvynrand @blackbirdwitch22

@torntaltos @seventeen-x @ren-ni @iilsenewman @slayerofthevampire

@hiphip-horray @jbbucketlist @melotyy @ethereal-witch24 @samfunko

@lilteef @hi172826 @pklol @average-vibe @shanksstrawhat

@shower-me-with-roses @athenabarnes @scarwidow @thriving-n-jiving @dilfsaresohot

@helloxgoodbi @undf-stuff @sapphirebarnes @hzdhrtss @softhornymess

@samfunko @wh1sp @anonymousreader4d7 @mathcat345 @escapefromrealitylol

@imjusthere1161 @sleepysongbirdsings @fuckybarnes @yn-stories-are-my-life

@cjand10 @nerdreader @am-3-thyst

@goldengubs @maryevm @helen-2003 @maryssong23

@yesshewrites1 @thewiselionessss @sangsterizada @jaderabbitt

@hopeofwinter @nevereclipse @tellybearryyyy

is that me on ur lockscree-

a/n: this turned out shitty i feel like, send requests i have a writers block rn

bucky barnes x reader

summary: you need bucky’s phone to see if your photos sent because he didn’t respond and you find a picture of you on his lock screen

warnings: flufffffffffffff, cuteness :)

it’s been around 4 hours or longer, you didn’t know anymore anyways.

you just sent bucky some pictures of things he might want later while you were shopping and asked him if he needed anything. he hasn’t responded.

you are now home in the comfort of your bed but not a sight of your man. you haven’t checked to see if he was in the office of the compound not wanting to disturb him if he might’ve been in a meeting.

you let out a long sigh and got out of the messy warmth and went to the kitchen wanting to make a snack so you got the milk out of the fridge and went to the large pantry looking for your cinnamon corn flakes as you were heading back once you’ve grabbed them you found bucky‘ phone on the counter.

confuzzled, you picked it up and found a picture of you, in bed, sleeping, hugging your stuffed animal, with your furrowed eyebrows.

and you giggled and snickered to yourself silently, it was cute how he put you as his lock screen, and you couldn’t help but smile even wider when you found another picture of you as his home screen, you definitely were going to tease him about it later.

as you unlocked it, easy access, you thought grinning to yourself and being lucky bucky never had a password and you went straight towards text messages.

and you found your pictures and text message in the new notifications. huh, how come he hasn’t opened it?

and you heard a voice behind you. “doll?” and you turned around quickly, startled.

”hi butterfly” you said smiling widely, remembering how you got to the nickname, bucky’s phone still in your hand. looking at bucky’ s tall tired frame smiling widely, back at you.

”when’d you come back, doll?”

“two, three hours ago, where were you?”

”oh, i didn’t know, sorry peach, i was in a meeting and when you still didn’t arrive i hit the gym with steve”

”it’s alright, just wonderin”

”missed me doll?” bucky said cheekily with a smirk on his fac as he slowly walk toward me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

”nope, ya miss me?” you stated back with your arms rested gently on his chest, looking up at him with a grin.

”that hurts, bullet in the heart, doll” bucky said as he acted out as if a bullet did hit him on the chest.

you laughed softly and said “i’m kidding i’m kidding i did”

”thought so!”

”that’s not fair” you said with a fake pouty face looking up at him with dog eyes

”alright, alright i missed you too”

”I knew it!“ you yelled squealing and rubbing it in his face with a small happy dance and bucky just watched in awe.

”you know what else i discovered today, buttercup?”

”hmmmmmm, i don’t know doll what” he feigned questioning

”i found something on your phone“ you said handing it to him as it was in your hand the entire time

”and exactly what was that?” bucky said knowing he had nothin to hide

”your wallpaper! its me!” you said teasingly an got tickled by large hands as you turned around to run from him knowing he was gonna chase you

”b-buckyyyyyyy” you tried to say, barely a known word had come out as you tried to stop his hands while squirming and laughing

”alright” he said, raising hIs hands in innocence, but your teasing wasn’t gonna stop even after.

”you have your wallpaper as meeeee” you screamed, running away from bucky and into your shared room, with him chasing after.

that followed with more tickles and more play fighting and eventually after exhaustion you both layed in bed with cuddles afterwards, both disregarding the unfinished cereal and sweaty gym bag.

“i don’t know why youre surprised with you being my wallpaper doll but i have no regrets or shame i’m doing so”

”ok, but it’s still cute of you”

It was so well written, and I can't stop reading it

Chapter 3 - Burning in the Lava

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Someone give Bucky a Xanax or something, he needs it.

Chapter Title from demons by Hayley Kiyoko

Word Count: 11.7k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Bucky has a rough first week on the job, and you engage in psychological warfare. Contains usual tags.

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

Read on A03!

It’s easy to underestimate you. It’s a mistake people frequently make, because you want them to. The optimist is never pleasantly surprised.

And the docile animal is never sedated.

And you’ve practiced being that animal your whole life.

It’s part of the show. When you’d shaped yourself into an accessory, your smile had been sickly sweet and full lipped, you’d bow your head when you spoke, and you’d watch your feet as you walked, as if you’d been afraid you’d trip over yourself.

After you got the out—the job, the only thing you’ve ever been allowed to be good at—you’d become overly confident. All sharp words and raised chins and perfectly made masks, powerful but not approachable, commanding but obviously trying too hard to be so. 

It’s purposefully mistaken for arrogance. Someone who was a threat to people who couldn’t hurt you anyway—people who the show worked on, who overestimated you and never thought twice about how you’re hollow, and lonely, and would likely shatter with one wrong touch—didn’t know how to see your everything for the lie it was. They’d never even imagine that all it would take is one carefully crafted and aimed sentence, and you rip yourself apart from within.

And people who were a threat would take the arrogance for the overcompensation it was, and they’d still underestimate you. They’d see you as too little, but trying to be more, and never even think that there was something deeper. Something to be weary of. 

They’d think they were seeing right through you, and that the one layer they’d managed to peel away was the only cage you kept yourself in.

You’d been so sure Bucky Barnes would fall in the latter category. He’d already seen you without any mask at dinner, but he’d seemed to read you as nothing more than a rich, spoiled brat who didn’t understand the threat Hydra posed. You’d hoped that would make him think he’d worked you out, and that by caving so fast to Sam’s stupid order you’d gotten him to believe you’d just roll over.

But when you get to your office the next morning, he’s waiting for you. Standing with his arms braced on his hips in the lobby of your building, an equal distance between the stairs and the elevator, scanning over the area and ignoring all the stares in his direction with an obviously practiced ease.

You don’t know how long he’s been there. Likely too long, given the depth of his scowl, but that might just be his face. There are slight bags under his eyes, but they’d been there last night as well. It’s unreasonably early in the morning—barely past 6am, the only other people in the lobby being security and night staff—so Barnes can’t have been waiting a while, but he and Sam had beaten you to the restaurant last night, which means Sam might have blabbed about you always being early and if Barnes had been paying attention-

Fuck.

Barnes isn’t the latter group. He isn’t the former, either.

He’s a whole new beast. You don’t know quite what yet, but not what you’re used to. Not a shallow pretty-boy or old, slimy asshole who will fall apart for the giggling, glossy-eyed and pouting lips act.

Not a well-trained, proud agent or politician who thought they were smarter than you, and weren’t.

Something you’ll have to dissect and maneuver around with more effort than you’re used to.

And you’d known this wouldn’t be easy. You’d hoped it wouldn’t be barely ten hours in that Barnes started to be a problem, but there he is, waiting for you in the lobby like he’d already anticipated that you’d try something.

And just because he’s right—you’d absolutely been about to try something—doesn’t mean that it’s not annoying.

But you’ll be fine. You’ll adapt. Barnes may not be underestimating you the way you’d wanted, but he’s still underestimating you. He hasn’t spotted you, standing outside the building with a baseball cap and sunglasses—Happy may have told you to stop taking the subway until this was fixed, but he wasn’t your boss, so you’d done it anyway—and he doesn’t seems to be at all worried that you can easily see him through the glass.

He thinks he’s already won. That you’re going to just stomp into the lobby and fight him there, when that will so clearly be handing him the victory.

And you don’t know what Barnes thinks you are. 

But you’re well aware that, whatever it is, he’s wrong. 

It’s not as difficult as it should be to get past him. You simply turn on your heels, walk around the block to the parking garage entrance, and enter through there. Carefully. With the stairs up to the second floor, then the elevator up to your office. 

Once he realizes that he’s already lost you and works out where you are, you’re going to need to have a serious conversation with him about covering all his bases. Maybe a conversation with Sam about how, if Barnes were five people instead of one super solider, the garage would’ve been covered and this never would’ve happened. Or a conversation with Happy about how Barnes didn’t see you, but the cameras had, so maybe they were better security than he was.

You’ll find it. You’ll have time to find it, because it’s going to take Barnes at least an hour to figure out what’s happened, and by the time he does you’ll already be several more steps ahead.

Your assistant, a sweet girl named Grace who’s only been here a year, but you still trust more than most of the actual board, is already at her desk when you arrive. You drop her coffee on the desk before she can speak, raising your brows as she blinks up at you.

“You’re early.”

“You’re early. My schedule is your schedule, ma’am-” 

You roll your eyes, pushing the coffee further forward. “Don’t call me that.”

“Mr. Hogan call you that-“

“Happy is afraid of me, you’re not. How long have you been here?”

“Only for like an hour-“ Grace cuts herself off, her hand freezing on the cup as her eyes widen. “Shit, did you come in through the lobby again? I think I saw the Winter Solider down there-“

He’s been here at least an hour. Good to know.

“And he was just, like, standing guard? I know you’re friends with Captain America, but I’ve never seen him here before, do you know what he wants-“

“Me.” You shrug, glancing over your shoulder to check that Barnes isn’t about to burst out of the elevator or stairwell, and when you look back to Grace she’s gaping at you, her voice suddenly a squeak.

“You? He’s here for- Did- Did Mr. Wilson introduce you? Did you finally break up with-“

You wrinkle your nose, your lips curling as you put together her disconnect. “No, not that. I- There are some things going on, and Sargent Barnes is supposed to be my security until they’re worked out.”

Grace nods slowly, her brow furrowing slightly. “Supposed to be? You’re not-“ She blinks at you, shaking her head. “No-“

“Yeah. Sorry.” You give her a grimacing smile, pushing the coffee once more. “I got five vanilla shots, and cinnamon-“

“I don’t want your bribery coffee,” Grace snaps your name, shoving the cup back across her desk. “Please don’t make me do this. Please.“

Something tightens in your throat at the genuine desperation on Grace’s face, and you let out a long breath before shaking your head. “Just tell him I’m busy. Put like a- A fake meeting in my schedule. Five fake meetings, and a lunch with someone important.”

“Mr. Wilson?” Grace suggests, still sitting too tall in her chair. “He’s still in town, right?”

“Yeah, but don’t use him. Barnes is friends with Sam, he’ll snitch and then the bird-ass will fly through my window again.” You drum your fingers on your own coffee, frowning at the air as your brain spins. “Scratch the lunch. I’ll stay in my office, and the meetings can all be online. That way if things get heated out here, I can come save you.”

“Save me?” Grace pales slightly. “I- why-“

“He’s not going to hurt you.” You wave her off with a hand and half-shrug. “But he’ll probably glare at you a lot, maybe try and talk you into letting him in. If you need to cave, just give me heads up first and I’ll deal with it. Okay?”

Grace chews on her lips, but nods, and you give her a genuine, smile. One that you hope she can see the gratitude in. You don’t really try to do the Show with Grace. She’s seen you cry over movies and sing in your car, watched you dance around your office when nobody else was in the building. She wouldn’t take the Show seriously. And she’s met your cat, and siblings, and him, so there’s really no point to it anymore.

“Thank you.” You say it aloud any way, just so you’re sure she knows, and pause before you move into your office. “Do you want the coffee?”

Grace scowls, but yanks the cup back from your hands. “I hate you.”

You only hum, and try to brush off how her words twist in your gut. She doesn’t mean them. You don’t think she means them. But you are asking a lot, and ward off an ex-assassin wasn’t exactly in the job description, so maybe you’re pushing it, and she does hate you-

Problems for later. When this whole situation is over, you’ll give her three weeks off. Paid. And you’ll clean her apartment, and water her plants while she’s gone. 

But right now, you have work to do.

There are real meetings. Actual things you need to attend to, that aren’t fabricated for the sake of avoiding Barnes. But you mostly say your piece and tune everything else out, because you already know what everyone is going over, and it’s more productive to multi-task. You can listen to Joe from event management drone for a very long hour about the full guest list for the next fundraiser and respond to emails about how that Wakandan vaccine is going to be up for bidding soon. You can even plot out a good timeline for distribution and draft out your pitch, all while interjecting with your opinions about the seat arrangements and evening itinerary. 

When the meeting ends, you almost go outside to ask Grace if she’s printed the latest round of grants and bids, but you’re barely out of the chair when you hear him. 

For a man that had been angry about the volume of your music in a completely empty parking lot, he sure is shouting in a workplace. 

“I am not asking to see her.” He’s snapping at Grace, and it’s easy to picture him leaning over her desk, pointing a finger at your office door. “I’m under orders from Captain America to watch your boss, so let me in.”

“Mr. Barnes if you want an appointment with the CEO,” Grace says your name with an impressively bored tone, and you can hear the tap of her keyboard through the door. “Well- It looks like she’s busy until October. Are you free in October?”

“Goddamnit- She might not be alive in October-“

“It’s the only free time slot she has right now.”

“The only-“ Barnes cuts himself off, and there’s a long moment of silence before he speaks again. “She told you not to let me in, didn’t she.”

You sit a little straighter in your chair, frowning at the door. Barnes isn’t loud enough that you’re worried about Grace, but his tone has enough cold menace to make something under your skin boil, and you’d made Grace do this, but it isn’t her war to fight-

Your computer pings softly, and when you glance back to the screen your body fully relaxes. 

Grace Young

I’ve got it. 

“If you have a message, I can relay it.” Grace’s voice is still calm, almost commanding. Maybe she should be your guard. “Otherwise, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”

There’s another pause, and when Barnes speaks his voice is low. “Wait.”

“Yes, sir.”

You don’t hear anything else, and your computer pings once more seconds later. 

Grace Young

He’s sitting on the couch.

Should I call security?

You sigh, glancing back to the door as you respond.

No. I can’t kick him out or Sam will yell at me.

Just keep saying I’m busy. 

Grace Young

Yes, Ma’am.

You roll your eyes and move back to your work. 

It’s amazing how long the charade lasts. You stay in your office, and you’d suspect that this was Barnes’ plan the whole time—to keep you in a self-imposed lockdown, with him guarding the only exit in and out of the room—if he didn’t go back up to Grace every hour and demand to be let inside.

She never caves.

You’re busy. You’re in a meeting that didn’t exist three hours ago, with four people who aren’t real. You’re eating lunch. You’re napping. Now isn’t a good time, because people really need charity at noon more than any other time of the day.

Four weeks. Paid, and funded for wherever she wants to travel. 

And you don’t waste the time. You respond to all your emails, attend three more real meetings, and go through all the proposals on your computer. The only real flaw with this plan is that, eventually, you are going to have to go home. This isn’t a long-term solution, and Barnes will almost certainly figure out how you got around him this morning, so this was a one-time trick that won’t work tomorrow.

But it doesn’t have to work tomorrow. The goal isn’t sustainability. 

The goal is to drive Barnes out of his mind. To make him regret any promises he made to Sam, and give up on you entirely so you can go back to lonely, miserable peace. 

And it’s doing its job beautifully. Because Barnes snaps around 6pm—you have to hand it to him, he held out longer than you’d expected—and you’re ready. You’ve held your own against angry old men before. They may not have had metal arms and sharp jawlines, but they’d held your life in their hands far more than Barnes ever will, and you hadn’t folded. 

In comparison to those ghosts and stained, stuffed-down memories, Barnes will be nothing.

Grace pings you that he’s coming, and you brace yourself, slipping into the Show right as your door breaks down.

“You’re going to have to fix that.” You hum, keeping your attention casually fixed on the computer. “I don’t think it’s very secure for me to not have a door.”

There’s no response for a long moment, it eats at the ringing in your ears, and you fall for it. You can’t fucking stand how the hum of the fan is so loud, how you can hear yourself breathing and shifting in your chair—how it’s you and that’s always too much—and you look up.

Barnes is standing in front of your desk with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed—his scowl almost carved onto his features as hair falls over his face—and the mask almost slips. He’s not scary, and you’re in no danger, but you still feel as if you’ve done something wrong.

Not just his voice, then. You’ll need to be careful of his eyes as well, examining you like a specimen and filled with a carefully leashed fury that leaks into the air. Your breath hitches under his attention, and you know he catches it—one blink, nostril flare—but you don’t care. 

Making him angry was part of the plan. 

Adapt. Rationalize and adapt. 

You give him a mockingly innocent, full-lipped smile. “Can I help you?”

His jaw clenches, his eyes raking over your face for an answer he doesn’t seem to find. “How did you get up here.”

“I don’t know.” You shrug, looking back to your computer. “That was like, nine hours ago.”

“I need to know.” He grunts, leaning further over your desk. “If there’s an access point I haven’t been made aware of, it could be a vulnerability-“

“No.”

You can see the blink in your periphery. “What do you mean, no.”

“It’s not a vulnerability. It’s my building, James. People know who I am. They’re going to let me inside.”

There’s a moment of pause, and when Barnes speaks again his words are slow. “So you saw people. You got in through a primary entrance.” Another pause, his gaze almost prickling over your skin, and then- “The garage.”

Shit. 

“Maybe.” You hum, keeping your eyes on the computer. “Doesn’t really matter.”

Barnes grunts. “I’m picking you up tomorrow.”

“You don’t know where I live-“

“Yeah, I do. It was in your file.” He pauses, and you see him give a firm nod to the air. “We’ll take your car-“

“I don’t drive.”

“Of course you drive, I saw you-“

“I drive to dinner. Not to work.”

“You-“ Barnes cuts himself off, and you start slightly as his fist slams on your desk. “What the fuck are you typing.”

You blink at your screen—full of absolute gibberish, because typing was just another part of the Show—and slowly look back to Barnes. “Emails. Sorry- Emails are like letters, but you type them, and use this thing called the internet to send them.”

Barnes stares at you, and shakes his head. “Is this a fucking joke to you?”

“Yes.” You answer without hesitation, raising your chin and leaning back in your chair. “I mean, the letter bit wasn’t my best, but-“

“I’m talking about Hydra.” Barnes hisses, planting his metal hand on your desk as he leans forward. “I’m talking about how Sam believes you’re in danger, enough to drag me into it, and you’re acting like you think it’s nothing. Like you’re above it.”

Above it.

That rattles and dislodges something in your body. You are not above it. You aren’t above anything. You slathered yourself in paint and torn yourself apart like a dysfunctional toy, and this is a joke because everything has to be. Because you’re above nothing—you’re buried in the center of the Earth and hotter than its core—and Barnes doesn’t know shit about what he’s saying.

But your gut begins to feel something like a rot. Sam is worried. He’s trying. But you’d told him you didn’t need Barnes, and that’s what keeps the mask in place. You’ll take care of this yourself, and to do that Barnes needs to remain out of your way.

No risks.

No holes.

The Show keeps going because that’s what you are, and you remain alone, just as you’re supposed to be.

“I do not think it’s nothing. And I think this,” you point between yourself and Barnes. “Is the joke. Not Hydra. I don’t need you, Barnes, and I know you don’t want to be here-“

He tenses slightly, cutting you off with a grunt. “I told Sam I would be here. And you’re not getting away with shit on my watch. This isn’t a joke, doll, none of it, and if you know that you should start fucking acting like it.”

Doll. It’s like a noose around your neck that makes the world narrow. You still don’t break the Show. You raise your chin and cover the broken parts of your voice with a crude, bored tone. 

“I will act as I please. This is my life, I will treat it however I want.”

He scoffs, looking you over like he can see you. The real, more than human you. The one tucked deep, deep down that’s scratching at her cage and whining the longer the Show goes on, the one that always breaks out just a little and gets the better of you. Makes you say stupid things and fall apart in the dead of night. The one you work so fucking hard to keep down when you can, but never manage to smother entirely because you’re you, and there’s no proper weapon against that. No tool that can skin you down permanently. It’s why you keep yourself so far down. 

There’s no way he can see it. Even Sam barely sees it. Sam sees past the Show and most every mask, but he still doesn’t see everything, and he’s known you longer than almost anyone. There is no reason to believe Barnes would’ve cracked you open after barely a day. 

So you keep your chin high as he glowers at you, and when he speaks again there’s no change to his tone. It’s still the rough, commanding danger from before, with no new blood or fury around the edges, and you think—for now—you’re safe. 

“I told Sam I’d be here.” He repeats, holding your gaze. “And I am doing this for him, not you, so I will be here. In your office. Watching you. The next time you make your receptionist-“

“Assistant.” You correct, keeping your voice bored and smooth. “She does just as much as I do. Grace is my assistant.”

Barnes lets out a long breath, and pinches the bridge of his nose as if you’re physically hurting him. “The next time you make your assistant keep me outside, I am not waiting until the end of the day to break down your door-“

“You still have to fix that-“

“And I will.” He snaps. “When you go one goddamn week following my rules.”

Your mouth curves into a wide, disbelieving grin. “Your rules? Am I going to need a fucking hall pass for the bathroom?”

Barnes continues as if you’d never spoken. “I am going to be in your office every morning, and leave with you every night. I get full access to your security systems, here and at home.” He’s raising a finger for every point. A finger made of skin and bone, rather than metal. “You pull that Houdini trick on me again-“

“I don’t think you know how a Houdini works-“

“And I handcuff you to your fucking chair.” 

Your grin grows, his scowl deepens, and this is too fucking easy. “Kinky.”

Jaw clench. Two blinks. Nostril flare. “Stop interrupting me. I go to all your meetings, and work events, and if Hydra contacts you again, I am the first to hear about it.” Barnes braces his hand back on your desk, leaning back forward. “Understood?”

You shrug, and he looks like he’s about to tear your head off.

He grunts your name—your first name, and it’s still so strange when he says it—and you cut him off with a flat tone and raised brows. 

“Are you done?”

He blinks at you. Twice. “Am I done?”

You hum with a nod, and his voice drops slightly.

“Are you going to listen?”

“Of course, James. You know, you didn’t actually tell me any of this before, so maybe I just didn’t think you’d want to spend all your time herding me like a sheep-“

“Sheep listen.” Barnes drawls, repeating your name. “And just say what you want.”

You pause, holding his gaze as everything stutters, and he hasn’t seen through you but he’d seen enough. He knows you have an angle, or a game, and he’s still staring at you like—if he looks for long enough—he’ll tear apart the Show with only his attention and you’ll mold into the real you.

You don’t know what he’d want with the real you. What he’s aiming for, by grabbing your cards and forcing them one the table.

For now, it doesn’t matter. He’s angry. And you’d have gotten here eventually, he just doesn’t seem to enjoy your dance that most powerful people love to play with.

That’s fine.

Most of this is easier without it.

“I don’t want anything.” You hum, tilting your head at him and keeping your arms crossed over your chest. “But I do have a few rules of my own.”

“Rules-“

“That is what I said.” You let your smile pull back at your lips, because it seems to hit a raw nerve in Barnes that you’d like to tease. “I’ll do all of your shit, if you do all of mine. Deal?”

Barnes jaw twitches slightly. “I’m not getting you coffee-“

You roll your eyes. “Good. I don’t want you to. Deal?”

He stares at you, the wood of your desk scraping slightly as his body tenses, and this time—scanning over your features and glaring at you like you’re personally responsible for Hydra’s existence and this whole situation—he finds what he’s looking for.

“Deal.” His words are pushed through his teeth, and he gives you a tight nod. “Go.”

“First of all, we are not friends.”

Barnes snorts, opening his mouth to sneer something back, but you’re faster.

“Shut up. What that means is that you’re here to keep Hydra off my ass, and that is all you’ll do. If you have thoughts on any other aspects of my life, keep them to yourself. You don’t get security access to my apartment, because it’s Stark funded and designed, so I will be fine. If I need to go somewhere and I tell you not to come, you’ll listen, and we’ll do hourly check-ins so you don’t start crying. I will let you bring me to work-“

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, you’ll let me-“

“But,” you continue, ignoring his mocking tone. “We’re taking the subway. Got it?”

Barnes is staring again. Sam told you he did that, but you’d thought he was exaggerating. It’s almost amazing to see in person, but you have a feeling he really does believe that if he stares at you enough, you’ll either be you—if he can see you, and knows there’s something to pry out at all—or you’ll somehow cave and fold into an easy victim. Innocent and hopeless and needy, afraid and nothing more.

You are afraid. You still don’t know what Hydra wants. You have Barnes, but he’s more of a sentry—if you’re being generous, and if you’re not, he’s an additional problem—and you have Sam, but he’s Captain America. His primary concern shouldn’t be you. It can’t be you, because you don’t need it more than anyone else, you’re less deserving of it than anyone could be, and if it is you that Hydra is after, then there will be other things to be afraid of.

Things that can’t be fixed like this, things that you can’t run from because it’s just not that easy.

None of this is easy. Barnes isn’t easy, Hydra isn’t easy, and you won’t be easy. The easy victim is a myth regardless, but you’re about to make it look like a fucking legend.  You’re exhausted and afraid and Barnes doesn’t get to walk in and stare at you, then think he’s in control. You’ve fought too violently to give in, and you feel a little sick—the weight of a migraine starting to press at your brow, paired with the twist of your stomach that makes the room start to spin—so you don’t have the energy to be easy. 

If you don’t have to put on the normal Show for Barnes, you’ll work out a new one that still keeps him on the outside. Looking in at what you want him to see, and nothing more. 

You’ll have plenty of time to figure that out tonight. You know you won’t sleep. You’re frayed and stretched too thin to sleep, your brain too wired from the fear and loneliness and everything.

So when Barnes nods, it’s a relief. This—whatever it was—is done. You can go home.

You stand without anther word, grab your already packed bag—you never fully unpack, just in case you have to move—and push past Barnes without a glance. You only pause your march to the elevator to tap on Grace’s desk, your words softer and quieter as the room starts to blur.

“Give Barnes my number, and tell security to give him full building access.”

Grace nods, glancing back over her shoulder to your office. You follow her gaze and swallow a slightly yelp, because Barnes has silently moved to the doorway, and is watching with a stoic, stone-like expression.

“Hi.” Grace mumbles. “I- uh- the door-“

“He’ll fix it.” You mutter, rubbing your face as you scan over the wholly abandoned office. “And you can do those things from home, if you want.”

Grace looks back to you with a frown. “Are you going home? It’s only-“

“I don’t feel well. I- Yeah.” You let out a long breath, and Grace’s eyes narrow. 

She doesn’t know why you don’t feel well. She doesn’t know that he has been gone too long, and the bond is starting to wither, let alone that—if it’s left abandoned for too long—this pain will be the easy part.

She does know that this happens. She’s made the connection that it’s often, in some way, because of him.

“Are you going to call-“

“No.” Your voice is harsher than you’d meant it, but Grace doesn’t flinch. She knows—you think she knows, you hope she knows, she has to know or you’re the lowest piece of shit on the planet—that you don’t mean it. 

She only nods slowly, and lowers her voice as her eyes flash with what you know to be concern. When it’s anything about him, it’s always concern.

“Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you.” You shake your head, flinching slightly at the movement. You need to lie down now, before darkness overtakes your vision and you collapse on the floor in front of fucking Barnes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Grace hums, giving you one last worried look but letting it go, and you spare Barnes a nod before you leave.

But he moves. He follows you into the elevator and stands in front of the door with his arms crossed, only acknowledging you when you let out a dramatic cough, and he glares over his shoulder.

“What are you doing.”

He rolls his eyes, and looks back to the door. “We’re getting you home.”

“I-” You gape at his back, and it looks dense, but you still think it would hurt him if you punched hard enough. “What?“

“You said I was allowed to bring you to and from your home. We had a deal, kid.” He shrugs, and you can see his muscles moving under his shirt. It’s hypnotizing.

You’re losing your willpower faster than usual tonight.

“I don’t need an escort.” You mumble, but the pain is reaching your tongue and it’s hard to make your tone firm. “‘M fine-“

“I don’t care.” He grunts, still not looking at you as the doors open. “Move.”

You almost whine, but choke it down with a scowl as you drag yourself together. You won’t falter. You’ll hold the Show together until you’re finally alone, and then you’ll fall apart.  

You make it. Barnes rides the subway at your side, all the way to your apartment, and you make it because you’ve made it through worse. All that you had to do here was stare at your knees—a little bruised, tucked to your chest in your seat—and pretend you couldn’t feel Barnes watching you. 

You keep your steps steady as you finish the walk from the station, and give Barnes a grimacing smile that you hope he interprets as I hate you and hope your shower is cold tonight instead of I feel like death, and if I try to do anything more than this I’ll start screaming.

You’ll see him tomorrow. You’ll put on the Show—the one you’re going to tailor specially for him—and play the game, right up until he caves, and you win.

And you will win. You’re already a step ahead without him knowing. He doesn’t try to follow you up to your apartment. You’re going to adapt, and he’ll see nothing more than what you want him to. When you make it to your bedroom—kicking off your shoes and shuffling up the stairs without bothering to turn on the lights—you collapse and let out a weak, shaking breath as you fade in and out of consciousness, but you’re still winning.

You have to shift through his drawer for a shirt, just to keep yourself held together. You’ll die before you call him—before you plead for him to come back now, before you give him more control—but you’re winning.

In the loosest sense, you’re winning.

You’re too you but no one’s here to see it. See you sobbing and curling into the sheets because it hurts, and you’re alone, and it’s so dark and cold and there’s no way out. No one to save you from this, and maybe if Hydra does take you it will be the best outcome, because you’ll be freeing Sam, and Happy, and Barnes, and everyone else who you’ve tricked into existing where you can leech off of them.

It'll be better in the morning. It’s always better in the morning. You make it the whole night without calling him, with the only gashes forming over your heart where no one can see them, and it’s always better in the morning.

The sun drifts through the windows, and the Boy is sitting and purring on your chest, and you’re okay. You’re still lonely and hollow, but you’re okay.

You know how to deal with Barnes without revealing too much—for a brief moment in the dark you’d considered showing him everything, as it would drive him away faster than anything, but that would lose you Sam and you can’t lose Sam—and you’re going to win. 

You’ve never lost a game like this before. And Barnes may be a semi-worthy opponent, but you’re still you. You don’t matter enough for him to fight you forever. You’re too much for him hold against for long.

He can see through you, but that means he’ll hate you faster. If anything, you’ll be doing him a favor. Nobody should have to pretend you’re worthy of being served or guarded in anyway, and when you win, you’ll be sparing Barnes of yourself.

You’ve have this under control.

You don’t make him do anything. You have too many people doing things for you as it is. When you walk outside and find Barnes standing—tall and rigid and almost inhumanly still—on the sidewalk, the only acknowledgment you offer him is a sweet smile that makes his jaw twitch. You’re not sure if it’s your joy or overall presence that’s the problem, but you can work with either.

“Barnes.” You hum, your smile widening as you scan him over. His outfit is identical to the one he wore yesterday, and you’re not entirely sure he ever went home. “Morning.”

He grunts your name, returning your assessing stare, and you know he can see the underlying anger and mocking respect behind your smile. You’re counting on it. 

“This is the part where you say morning back.” You prompt, and his nostrils flare.

“Morning.”

“Good job.” 

“Shut up.”

“Rude.” You drop your voice under your breath, fully aware that he’s still going to hear it. “Let’s go, Sargent. I’ve got a lot of places to be.”

Barnes doesn’t respond, and you try not to feel like too much of a whiny, pathetic fucking bitch as you walk to the subway. Chin raised, expression bored and borderline haughty, posture perfectly straight like you think you’re better. 

You know you’re not better. You know that—with every person that passes you on the street and crowds you in the subway car—you are far, far worse. But Barnes thinks you see yourself as some kind of mortal goddess among the less worthy, just a brat who thinks she’s above things—that word is still clawing at your skull, above, as if you’re not made of trash scraps that are polished to mimic diamonds—and you have no interest in correcting him. You have things you don’t deserve. You are undeserving, just as he thinks, but he doesn’t need to know that you’re deeply and critically aware of that.

If you need to be the entitled, holy imposter that he’s painting you as, it’s exactly what you’ll become. 

When you reach the crowded subway, Barnes freezes behind you. You don’t need to turn to know he’s glaring at you. You don’t bother to hide the smile in your voice as you speak.

“You good?”

All you get in response is another grunt, and your smile widens.

He had to have known it wouldn’t be this easy. You’d be a little disappointed if he thought it was. 

“The ride is like, ten minutes.” You say, rubbing at your wrist as you watch the people shift around you. There’s a woman with metallic nails, a man with a clearly broken watch, and no protesters or preachers. Barnes got lucky. “When we get there it’s pretty much just following me around, right?”

There’s a pause, and then, “What.”

“Your plans.” You shoot him a wide, toothy smile over your shoulder. “I have work to do. What are you going to do, James? How are you going to protect me?”

Two blinks. Nostril flare. “That’s not your concern.”

“I dunno, it kinda feels like it is-“

“Pretend I’m not here, doll.” He snaps, and his attention is doing the thing again. You feel small, and naked, and vulnerable. It’s like a blade through your gut and a clamp around your heart. “I’ll keep you alive, and you can do,” he scans over you, his tone dropping to flat. Dismissive. “Whatever you do.”

You don’t let it show how his words hit somewhere deeper than he’d likely been aiming. You can’t let it show. It will be a point in his favor, that he’s made your mask shatter even one bit, that he’s driven through all your carefully forged defenses to hit a raw, white-hot nerve. 

He sees it though. In the split second before you push yourself—with inconvenient emotions, a lump in your throat, and rapid thoughts of you don’t really do anything but take up fucking space and money and time—down, your smile falters, you feel yourself slip out, and Barnes smirks.

He saw you. The Show slips back into place, but Barnes saw you. 

You keep going. You just have to keep going, and adapt, and give him a mocking grin as you step onto the subway. 

He hates it. You can see it in how he holds himself the whole ride, like he’s bracing for an attack. And Barnes seems to hate most everything, but you’re hoping it will be the small things that get him. That make him give up on you, because you plaster that mocking smile back on your face, humming and bouncing on your feet at his side, and by the time you get to the Stark Foundation building you’d safely bet you’re another step ahead. 

And you keep gaining strides. The day passes with long, boring meetings and fights with old men who think they’re smarter than you are, and Barnes sits silently in the corner. Like he’s a phantom, or part of the room’s decoration, his attention always pushing its way into your body.

Everyone keeps shooting him weary looks and cautious glances, like the wrong breath will set him into a bloodied frenzy.

You just ignore him.

“Is that all he’s going to do?” Grace whispers, holding her papers to her chest and nodding her head to Barnes in the corner of your office. 

You shrug. “He’s a hundred, Grace. You can ask him to do more, but it might kill him.”

Barnes doesn’t react. You didn’t expect him to.

“Are you going on lunch?”

Grace nods. “The deli. You want the-“

“Yes, please.” You hum, hiking one leg up to your seat as you lean back over your computer. “Ask the old fuck if he wants something.”

Barnes blinks in the background, and only shakes his head when Grace approaches him. 

The door barely closes behind her when his attention returns to you, and you shoot him a bright smile. 

“You got any other plans for the day, besides intimidating my employees?”

His jaw ticks. “No.”

You hum, scanning over him with mock curiosity. “If I decorate you, will you break my arm?”

“If you- What?”

“Decorate you, dummy.” You return your attention to your computer, shrugging as you begin to type. “I’m thinking glitter and ribbons.”

“Why in god’s name would you need to decorate me,” he snaps your name, his voice more gravelly and rough than only seconds ago, and you take it as a victory. He’s slipping. “I am not a fucking Christmas tree.”

“No, but you don’t go with anything.” You let out a dramatic sigh, pretending this is really a plague on your mind. “You could at least try to match the aesthetic, if you’re going to be standing there all day.”

He doesn’t respond. You can feel his attention pushing right into your body once more, but he doesn’t speak for the rest of the day. 

You’re still winning.

The week stretches on, the weekend passes with Barnes texting you every hour to make sure you’re not dead, and you keep it together. You’re playing the Show almost perfectly.

Almost. 

There are brief moments like the one that morning. Long seconds where Barnes gets an advantage, and you have to almost scramble to regain your ground. It’s unnerving, and exhausting, but you manage. You adapt. 

You take the same train to and from work every morning, and Barnes marches what you’re guessing is meant to be a respectable distance behind you, keeping his impossibly blank expression every single second. 

It’s three days before you manage to pry it open just an inch. To hit some part of him that’s just as deep as he’s gotten to hit you. 

“Have you ever been to the opera?”

He blinks down at you, and you give him a soft, innocent smile. 

“What.”

“The opera.” You raise your brows, swinging slightly on the subway pole as you watch him. “You know, you say what a lot.”

He scowls. “Well, you say stupid things a lot.”

“Aw, you listen to me?”

“It’s my job.”

“Shucks.” You sigh, pouting up at him. “And here I thought I was interesting.”

His eyes flash slightly, and he starts to say something that will likely make your heart drop to your gut and pull you right out of the Show, so you plow on.

“You never answered my question, James. Have you been to the opera?”

He just stares at you, and you let out a long breath.

“Sorry, I forgot you were a dinosaur. The opera is like a musical, but louder and there aren’t any spoken lines. Like reverse ballet. They’re usually in Italian, I think. You can’t be sure because all words sound the same when you’re saying them like you’re a bird. It’s kind of like-“

You take a long deep breath, ready to belt out a purposefully off-key note, and Barnes covers your mouth with a gloved hand. 

It’s a firm grip. His eyes are flashing, and his nostrils are flared, and you can see his annoyance. When his words come out gruff and pushed through his teeth, you know you’ve won again.

“Do you ever shut up?” He hisses, and you raise your brows, looking pointedly down to his hand.

He follows you gaze, and releases you with a glower. 

“That was rude.” You half whine, pushing him a little further. “You could’ve just asked me to be quiet-“

He rolls his eyes. “You wouldn’t have listened.”

“Well, you’ll never know that, because you didn’t try.” You sigh, returning to dramatic pout to your face. “There’s this thing called manners, James. It’s where you say please and thank you and don’t cover the mouth of perfectly sweet girls-“

Barnes scoffs. “You are not sweet-“

“In train cars.” You keep talking as if he’d said nothing, because you’re not sweet and it hurts deep in your chest how easily he said that. “I could’ve pepper sprayed you, dumbass.”

You can feel him scanning you over, so you stand a little taller and keep your gaze fixed on the blurred walls.

“You don’t have pepper spray.”

“No. But I’d have figured something out. One slightly confusing question and you would’ve crumbled.”

Barnes grunts “You think you’re funny.”

“I’m hilarious.” You drawl, examining your nail as the subway car rattles slightly. “We’re going to the opera, by the way. That’s why I asked.”

Going to the opera means walking through the building, seeing a dress rehearsal and giving your stamp of approval, because all the proceeds from the show will go the Manhattan Food Bank, but those are details Barnes doesn’t need know that. Those things won’t play into the Show, not as he needs to see it.

All Barnes needs to do is follow you around and see how you’ve muzzled yourself. Watch you give sweet smiles and kind words to people, just to turn around and mock and snap at him. He needs to see the over-composure and know it’s a trick. He needs to know you’re a liar, a wrong, twisted, hideous liar, and never bother to try and search deeper. 

He just needs to hate you, and care about you so little that he either doesn’t bother to really do his job—Sam or no Sam—or leaves overall. 

You think it’s working. He engages less and less with you every passing day. Only standing in the corner, glowering at you as you work. 

“I- ah-“ The small, weedy man you’re meeting with about public school donations swallows his words, glancing to where Barnes has planted himself by the door. “I am- As I’m sure you’re aware, ma’am, our arts depar-“ He chokes again, looking back to Barnes. “The music- um- Orchestra-“

“Is it Barnes?” You ask, and the man blinks at you.

“I- I’m sorry?”

“Sargent stone-face.” You angle your head in Barnes’ direction, and he doesn’t move an inch. “Is he freaking you out?”

“I- It’s not a problem,” the man says your name softy, but gives Barnes another nervous look. “I’m sure he’s- yes- it’s fine-“

You let out a long breath, glaring at Barnes over the man’s head. “James. Relax.”

His eye flash, but his shoulder slump slightly. 

And you stare at each other, your own shock written all over your face, likely a perfect mirror to his.

He’d relaxed. For one brief second he’d relaxed, just because you told him to, and if the way he’s blinking at you is any indication, he hadn’t meant to. He just had. 

You return your focus to the man in front of you, and don’t look at Barnes again until after the man leaves.

“It’s rude to stare.” You hum. “It’s part of the manners thing we talked about yesterday.”

He rolls his eyes. “So I’ve heard.”

It’s all you get. But you know you’ve carved a little deeper, because in your next meeting, Barnes’ shoulders return to the slight slump—as if he’s trying not to draw any attention, backing further into the wall and giving the suit talking to you a small nod when he walks in the door—but the intensity of his glare seems to double. 

And he’s keeping his end of the deal. You aren’t trying to dodge or undermine him—not obviously, or visibly—and he’s not pushing himself into your life. The pain returns with more and more force every night and he never questions it, because you’re not worth the effort questioning. Of putting in more than the passive, stoic effort he seems to have mastered. 

It’s exactly what you wanted. You can keep it up for months if you need to. 

But the pain is becoming a problem. Too many mornings have come where you’re hunched on the floor of the bathroom, your fingers hovering over his contact, because it hurts and he could fix it. Just his voice would make it better. Seal the bond just enough to hold you over until he came back home, and you had a whole new kind of pain to push through. 

You never call him. You work and work, tossing Stark money to anyone who can prove they need it and grinding yourself into the sparkling ash that you need to be. The Show keeps going, and you keep adapting, just as you always done. 

Exactly what you have to do for what matters. 

The only change to the Show is Barnes, but that’s only taunting words and mocking grins, trying to find an opening to fix the whole Hydra thing yourself.

You’d been planning for that time to be when you were alone, in your apartment with the Boy sitting on the counter as you worked, and Barnes far away. But the fracture of the bond leaves you weak at the end of the day and in a borderline catatonic state through the night. It’s starting to creep where the sun can see it. Where people—real people who exactly as much as they need to be, who don’t owe their entire minds and hearts and body as reparations for pretending to be alive—can see.

Barnes is starting to notice. You know he is. He sees when you stop typing for long minutes and just stare at the screen, your vision clouding and thoughts strangled by the pain around your head like a crown. When Grace says something and you flinch almost imperceptibly, because she’s so kind but you don’t deserve it, and her voice is like a drill into your skull.

He doesn’t say anything.

But you know sees it.

And that’s exactly what you’ve been smashing yourself apart and stitching yourself back together in order to avoid. He shouldn’t see you. Yet even now—in a large meeting with all the department heads giving their reports with words you don’t really understand anymore—you can feel Barnes watching you and seeing you. 

It’s so fucking dangerous. You’re fighting to keep yourself breathing, you’re about to black out and slump in your chair, and you feel sick—bile in your throat and bubbling in your gut and making your head light sick—but you can’t be weak where he can see it. 

You stand abruptly, giving clipped words you can’t hear that you’ll be back in a minute, that they should continue in your absence—because they don’t really need you, not this you, who’s weak and inconvenient and crumbling under nothing but herself—and leave the meeting. 

You’re being selfish. And useless. But it’s you can’t be there, where everyone is alive and the show is a struggle to keep up. You barely make it into the bathroom before you’re on your knees, and everything shatters. 

It tastes horrible, rocketing out of your throat and into the toilet bowl. Your vision dances with black spots, and you can’t hear beyond a pounding and screeching noise in your ears, can’t smell beyond what pushes itself out of your nose, but you just have to ride it out. It’s part of being you. Being too human, and that getting the better of you when anyone else could just get through it. 

It passes. It’s temporary, and it passes. You take a breath that’s not a sputtering—a desperate inhale to keep yourself conscious—and grip the cool porcelain of the toilet to stay upright, and it passes. There’s a little vomit lingering on your chin that you wipe off, the toilet flushes, and it’s as if nothing happened at all. 

Your legs are too shaky for you to return. Grace will be taking notes for you. And it’s nice in here, where there’s no one smile at or be pretending for. The air is cool, and the motion-sensor lights have turned off, so you think-

You’ll just stay here for a while. Just until you know that you can go back out without showing too much of yourself. 

It’s too quiet, so you pull out your phone and work from there. Just because you’re hiding like a weak, afraid little animal doesn’t mean you’re going to do nothing. You have to do something, or you’ll be even worse than you already are.

And as the time crawls on and your eyes start to weigh with sleep, you wonder if just turning to stone here would be permissible. They would have to remove you from the wall, or you could be decoration, and you’d be stealing less resources than you do now. They could pass you to Hydra with a clean conscious, or give up on protecting you because statues don’t need bodyguards. 

You’re already a statue, though. A husk. You’re already alone and hollow, and Sam only gave you a bodyguard because you’ve managed to trick in him into thinking you were worth it. You know you’re tricking him, and you’ve never told him that you’re worse than you appear, and that might make you worse than Hydra.

At least they don’t put on a show to be what they’re not. 

Maybe the fix would be to turn yourself over to them. It would save everyone a lot of time and effort, and Sam would be angry but he’d get over it, and Barnes-

Fuck.

You’d forgotten about Barnes. 

And almost as if on a perfect cue, the door is split open, and he crashed into the bathroom. The lights flick back on as he stops right above you, arms crossed and attention peeling you apart.

You don’t look up at him, keeping your eyes trained on your phone, even as your vision glazes over.

“That’s the second door you’ve broken.” You mutter, and he ignores you.

“What the fuck are you doing.”

“Reading, I think.”

“You think-“

“Yep.”

There’s a long second of silence, before Barnes breaks it with a grunt.

“You always make people run your company without you, doll?”

There’s a seize over your heart. You ignore it. “Only every other Thursday.”

“It’s Friday.”

“Huh.” You shrug. “Oops.”

Barnes snorts, and you can’t stop your gaze from flicking up to him. 

He’s still annoyingly handsome. Still glaring at you with eyes that look silver in the too-white light of the bathroom, and you feel small again. Raw. Too human. More than you’re supposed to be where it’s visible. 

Barnes doesn’t flinch at it. That same odd look flashes in his eyes as he scans over you, and when he speaks again, he’s the only thing louder than the rush of blood in your ears.

“Next time you need to do that,” he nods to the clean toilet. “Leave the door open, and I won’t have to break it.”

You blink at him. “Do-“

“Have a panic attack.” He grunts. “And fucking sleep tonight. You get mouthy when you don’t.”

And he just fucking turns and leaves. His words knock into you like a bullet, and he just walks away.

You don’t know how he keeps seeing you, when nobody is supposed to really, fully see you. Not all of you. Not past the fool’s gold you’ve turned yourself into, because then they leave. 

But Barnes is stuck here. Until Sam gives the clear, he won’t leave. It’s becoming annoyingly obvious that he won’t leave, Maybe that’s why he keeps driving right into parts of you that never see the sun. That only come out in the dead of night under stars or in pitch darkness. 

It’s probably some assistant secret you need to learn. Maybe a Hydra tactic you should familiarize yourself with, just in case. You rarely sleep, but you’ll just have to adjust the show to make him think you have. They aren’t panic attacks, but he’s too close to being right, and you’ll have to shift to match that as well. 

You just need to keep adapting. Rationalizing. 

Moving. 

You just need to keep moving, until Barnes stops trying to keep up with you.

You’re not sure what that will take.

But you’ll work it out. 

You will not let him be the thing that makes you bow. Makes you vulnerable. Makes you bend into him will, when you’ve scraped and screamed so loud to cut every leash you could off your body.

So you’ll just keep fucking moving.

——————

The past two weeks had been the longest, most confusing ones of Bucky’s life. 

Everyone liked Her. Adored Her. He’d heard nothing but genuine praise about how kind and sweet She was, and he didn’t get it. She was annoying. Beautiful and loud and smart-mouthed and annoying. She was making this as difficult as possible for him, on purpose, but everyone spoke about Her as if she was some sort of saint. 

If Bucky hadn’t been sure She was hiding something before, he was positive now. People who weren’t hiding things didn’t have carefully concealed bags under their eyes every morning. They didn’t spend their whole days in their offices, typing and reading and burying themselves where the world couldn’t see. 

People who weren’t hiding things didn’t shift in and out of masks every second. Smiling like an angel at everyone they passed and using big, quick words with an air of casual boredom, only to close the door and turn into almost a fire-spitting demon. 

But Bucky had  worked out that She was only shifting into that taunting, crude and mocking woman for him.

He also knew that it wasn’t the mask fully off. 

She’d only have it off in brief moments, when one of the suits or brittle old men would compliment Her, and her smile would flicker. When someone would thank Her, and that thing deep in her eyes would shift. Burst forward just long enough for Bucky to catch it, even when everyone else missed it. 

But that was what he did. He caught it, and threw it—loud and spitting—right back in Her face until something cracked. It was his passive plan of attack to make Her slip, and give him enough proof that She was up to something. Because no one could be truly this beautiful, truly this good, without it all being an act. 

In just two weeks, his log about Her had grown. She often spoke without thinking—or thinking too much, he couldn’t tell and that was jarring—and she always had something to say. Bucky had a feeling he could bring up any topic, and she’d have a pointless opinion. She took almost nothing seriously, but still got a harsh, almost brutal look of focus whenever she was working. She didn’t seem to believe She was better than everyone—people who did never turned into the shadow he’d often see flickering over her face and under her pretty features—but she did think she knew better. He could hear it in her voice, whenever she gave an order or direction, that there was no doubt of error.

He decided that was the reason why he’d relaxed when She’d told him to. She’d said it like an order, and he’d been a solider for so long that his body just reacted.  

It might be Her beauty, as well. She looked like shifting, shimmering light every single second, and if She’d ever stop sneering venom and making Bucky’s job impossible—his efforts doubled to try and see what She obviously didn’t want him to—She might have been attractive. Bucky might have tried to actually talk to Her, instead of tuning Her rambling and taunting out.

He was trying to tune it out.

It was harder than it should have been.

He really needed to revisit that inhuman beauty possibly caused by Hydra thing, when he had the time. It felt likely.

But he was spending too much time on Her pointless, annoying distractions. Trying not to beat himself to pieces on Her too crowded and hot and loud subways trips, trying to observe Her while still following his rule of don’t look too long.

Trying work out exactly what was eating at Her mind, what was wrong with Her that she never slept and would rub her skin like she was trying to wipe invisible grime off of it. What was causing those hitched breaths and momentarily panicked expressions, making Her breakdown on the bathroom floor when—as far as Bucky had been able to see—not a single damn thing had happened. 

It might be a guilty conscious. The knowledge that She was lying to all these people about whatever she was. 

And Bucky had yet to see a single friend of Her's. The closest he’d come was Her assistant, but that girl seemed to worship the ground She walked on, so her judgment was clouded. 

Just as Sam’s was.

Because whatever spell Her beauty and hauntingly beautiful voice was casting over people, it was keeping them from even thinking that she was capable of wrongdoing.

Bucky hadn’t dared to bring that up with Sam yet. Not until he had evidence of it. 

But he’d get that evidence. He’d finish this so that he could get the hell away from Her, and how She was taking up so much of his goddamn headspace.

He had to play his game almost every hour he was in Her presence. It was exhausting.

His name was James Buchanan Barnes. It was almost midnight on a Saturday, and the carpet in Her office was brown. He liked that She used the same password for everything, because it made this easier. He didn’t like that, when he looked through Her desk, it made her seem normal. That photos of a round black cat made him imagine Her pretty face with a wrinkled nose, and a cat on Her lap. That there were obvious pictures of people who had to be Her siblings, because they all had the same nose and undertones in their skin, hair, and eye colors. That She had a family. 

As did most people who weren’t a hundred.

And Bucky had living family. His sisters had ended up with kids, and they’d ended up with kids, and life had drifted around him in a way he’d never be able to catch and drag back.

It may have to go on without Her, for the people in those photos. If Bucky’s theory was right. 

He kept looking at the fucking photos. Her siblings didn’t have that thing behind their eyes. They all had nice, attractive features, but She was the only one who was inhumanly beautiful. Entrancing. Distracting.

He needed to look away from Her, and focus on what he was doing. Finding the evidence. This was about the evidence.

He wanted to find something, some blaring red flag that would prove what She was, that this was some kind of scam, that Bucky had been right to be weary of Her. That he was not—as Sam called him—a paranoid asshole. It wasn’t paranoia if he was right.

That was the easiest want he’d ever had.  

And he hadn’t found anything yet, but he would. Her computer may be clean, but it was a company computer. All Her files might be boring numbers and long, annotated paragraphs, but She probably didn’t keep a piece of paper that read I am Hydra in Her desk. She was smart. If Bucky could offer Her one piece of praise, it would be that She seemed to be genuinely intelligent. 

That just made Her more dangerous. She’d be careful, if She was Hydra. She’d know how to hide it, which was likely why She’d gotten away with it for so long. And She had to be something. Nothing would add up if She was just the lovely woman everyone found Her to be. Nobody was simply that good and kind. Bucky hadn’t met a single person who would dedicate their lives to something like this just for the sake of being good. He’d think it was for the paycheck, but if it was for the paycheck She wouldn’t be taking the subway. It could be the connections, but every time Sam had mentioned being Captain America at dinner, She’d rolled her pretty eyes.

The eyes that held the thing. The thing that meant She simply wasn’t what she was claiming to be. 

And Bucky might be coming up empty handed—he should’ve assumed he would, he never got what he wanted—but She wasn’t innocent. She couldn’t be. Sam wasn’t finding any more leads on Hydra—meaning it was probably an inside job—and She was too smart and kind and beautiful to not be some sort of Hydra-made plant meant to drive Bucky insane with pouting smiles and mocking glares and sharp words-

“What are you doing here.”

Bucky’s head shot up, and She was right there.

It was midnight. On a Saturday. Why was She in her office a midnight on a Saturday.

“Security.” He grunted, and it wasn’t his best excuse, but it wasn’t horrible.

She saw through it anyway. 

“What security are you doing in my desk, Barnes.” She crossed Her arms, and Bucky shrugged, moving around the desk to stand before Her.

“Cybersecurity is a thing, doll-“

“Don’t call me that.” She snapped, raising Her chin to hold Bucky’s gaze. She was better at it than Sam was, and it felt a little like he was being burned from the inside.

She had to be something.

“And tell me the truth.” She hissed. “Why the fuck are you in my office.”

His jaw clenched. “I told you-“

“You lied to me.”

“You got proof of that-“

“My cybersecurity is the most tight and well-designed in the world. Tony Stark made that computer, and it’s a prototype he didn’t want to scrap, so he gave it to me. It’s unhackable, because it’s not commutable to any other system. Truth.”

Bucky frowned at Her. “Is that why you use such a stupid fucking password for it-“

“Why do you know my password?” 

Fuck.

“I-“ 

“The truth.”

Bucky stared at Her, and he was caught. She’d found him snooping, and he’d—for some reason he had no way of understanding—slipped up and revealed he’d known her password. She’d work out that he’d likely used it. His hands were covered in—thankfully metaphorical—blood.

And the only way out of this was more of a gamble than he’d want to take.

But he needed something.

So he was all in. 

“I don’t trust you,” he hissed, leaning down until he could see every perfectly placed bump on Her face, every shift and swirl of that thing behind Her eyes. “That’s why. You’re too young to have this position, nothing in your files adds up, you’ve hunched in the bathroom all week. You’re hiding something. I know you’re hiding something. Could be something with Stark, could be Hydra-“

Her eyes widened slightly, Her voice suddenly void of any smooth, careful music. It was raw. Almost unnerving.

“You think I’m Hydra?” 

“I think,” Bucky snapped, and there was no going back now. “That you’re not just some rich, happy little angel. I think everything about you is a lie-“

She laughed. Loud and furious, and Bucky was shocked it didn’t shake the earth. 

“What part of my life, James, do you think is a lie?” She took a firm step forward, and Bucky could smell Her. She smelled like flowers. She looked like the wrath of god was alight in Her body. “Is it how I’m here?” She gestured around them to the office, holding Bucky’s gaze. “Did I blackmail someone? Make a threat? Sleep my way here? Did I do something unspeakable to make someone as smart as Tony Stark think a stupid little girl could run his company?”

She laughed, and the sound was almost frightening. Bucky felt like he’d been locked into place, and she just continued.

“Or is the lie how I’m Hydra? How the only superheroes I’ve ever met are the dumbass who took me in off the street and my very dead boss, and before this I was nobody, fucking nothing, but I still somehow managed to be important enough to become a Hydra plant? What would Hydra want we me, Barnes? My stunning charisma and winning personality, that’s so clearly been able to charm and fool you? Huh? Is that what I’m here for? Am I just pretty and sweet and trying to ensnare you into Hydra’s grasp? Am I just a fucking doll for them to use?”

She spat that word, doll, and Bucky flinched. Fucking flinched. Like She was something that could actually hurt him, and not just an angry girl in the dark.

His words were caught in his throat. She was watching him like he should be doing something, but Bucky was frozen as he just stared at Her.

He’d seen horrible things. Things of nightmares, and desolation, and haunting phantoms that lined his vision all the time. And he’d done worse. His hands would always be a little sticky, and every room would never be warm enough for the frost to truly fade.

But making Her shake slightly as he just stared at Her felt like the worst thing he’d ever done. It wasn’t. Not by far.

But it goddamn felt like it. It felt like a burning arrow through his throat, because he’d never seem someone just fall like that. Into anger and fear and venom, looking like a frightened, gnashing animal or feral beast he’d try to soothe, if that was something Bucky was capable of doing.

But he wasn’t.

So he just stared.

And She deflated. Turned hollow as all the fire went out from Her eyes, leaving of the weight of that thing.

“Tell Sam I’ll do the lockdown,” She muttered, not meeting Bucky’s eyes as she turned to the door. “You can say I bullied you into quitting, or stabbed you with a stapler. I don’t care.”

The door slammed, and Bucky was alone in the dark.

He’d been wrong.

And Sam was going to fucking kill him.

End Note: I'd say unstoppable force vs. immovable object, but they're both about to be very stoppable and movable. As always, thank you so so much for reading, and please leave any thoughts or feedback if you have them!

Thank you so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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I Wanna Be Yours❦

Part 1: Snap out of it

Part 2: Arabella - Coming soon

One stop off of heaven masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angst, infidelity, reader is the side piece, hurt, brief mentions of childhood friend!Bucky, no happy ending (sort of), reader is used, no aftercare, all hurt no comfort, p in v, rough sex, hate sex, doggy style, hair pulling, slapping, biting, allusions to reader being infertile (can be ignored :))

Nicknames: My girl, whore, slut, Sweetheart, buttercup

WC: 4K

The Happier version: My Girl -Coming soon

A/N: This is the angstier version of the fic ‘My Girl’ and is the actually original version of the fic and more truly embodies what I was feeling when writing them both.

A/N: Ive been gone for a really long time (like almost 3 months) and I’m really sorry I’ve been extremely busy, because as a lot of you know I’m doing a PhD right now. Anyway, this is part of a series that I’ll hopefully finish when I’m not so busy. I also have a few requests to finish. Love y’all 💕

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀༺

You both laid in the middle of the hotel bed, your head nuzzled into Bucky’s chest as you held him tight, taking in the smell of him like it was the last time you’d ever be able to. Your mind burned as you broke down every note of his scent; Magnolia, vanilla, leather and petrichor. You chanted it like a recipe in your head, begging yourself not to forget it. Just in case you ever had to recreate it when he was gone, it was inevitable after all—It was reality, this world you had both created in this room was no longer tangible. Someone was going to find out, or they had already—and to make him keep risking it, running around with you at night. It couldn’t continue, the thought of it ending made your throat tighten and a smell similar to pva glue fill your nose. It burnt as you blinked the tears back. Even as you squeezed him tighter, closer, it felt like he drifted further and further away; you could just feel it. He was distancing himself from you mentally and now physically, to make it more bearable for you both; so that he could lessen the pain, but little did he know the more he moved away the more it hurt, the more your heart shattered into tiny, little pieces that you’d inevitably be left alone to pick up. You wondered if you’d ever be able to repair your heart, or if it had shattered so much into such minuscule pieces that trying would be futile.

You had one final night with him and here you were, spending it cuddling him trying to suppress your tears. You didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes if you shattered, if you showed how much this little love affair truly meant to you. You loved putting up the tough, emotionless bitch act but you couldn’t. Not now. Not if it meant letting him go, never feeling his rough hands trace your every curve, never having him to kiss every scar, never being able to hear his deep, silky voice. You didn’t give a shit about the sex, no matter how mind blowing it was. You just wanted him to stay, you’d become celibate if it meant he’d stay. You’d do anything. But you weren’t “his girl” no matter how many times he whispered it to you softly or made you scream it as he fucked you. You just weren’t his. Not in the eyes of the law and not in the eyes of any of your guy’s friends. She was and you hated her for it, you hated the nice girl who brought you ‘Welcome home’ cookies, who comforted you when you were crying, despite not know you were mourning your chance with her husband, the sweet, beautiful, perfect girl that would one day give Bucky the sweet, beautiful, perfect family he’d always dreamed of. You hated that you hated her, it felt immoral, this all felt immoral. But she had what you wanted; him. She had him wrapped around her tiny, wicked…pretty, well manicured finger, it was wrong of you to force him into this—Bucky had always been weak to you and you used that against him. You made him cheat, but deep down you knew a part of him liked it. He was just like you after all, he was broken and a collector—but instead of things you both collected bits and pieces of others and saved them up inside you, it’s what made you both feel whole.

His arm that had been laying flat under your head shifted, he ran his fingers through your hair, rubbing slowly circles on your scalp, caressing the base of your skull with his warm palm. His touch was too much, you didn’t deserve it. That’s what broke you. The burning in your nose got too much; tears began to stream from your eyes like water from a broken faucet and the knot straining in your throat gave way to heavy sobs as you scrunched the material of his shirt in your fingers “What’s wrong sugar?” He asked indifferently, but you couldn’t answer. The embarrassment from letting your walls finally fall in front of him and the pity you had for yourself, that you detested, jammed your throat. You tried to open you mouth to speak, to tell him it was nothing or that you’d had an awful day at work, you’d always been quite sensitive, he knew that, so the excuse of being yelled at in front of everyone at work would probably work, but no matter how much you tried to summon the words you couldn’t speak. The frustration just made it worse, the warmth from your emotional outburst and his natural heat made it hard to breathe. You pushed away from him, finally distancing yourself. But the implications of your action just intensified your blubbering, you felt like a child as you collapsed in front of him.

Bucky pulled you closer even as you tried to fight him off. You kept your face hidden behind your hair, but he started to peel it away from your damp cheeks. “There we go I can see you now.” He let out a halfhearted nervous laugh, smiling. His smile. Your chest tightened painfully, even through your drowned vision, the full intensity of his welcoming smile hit you like a pile of bricks. “What’s wrong, sugar pea? You can tell me, it’s just us.”

“I can’t- can’t tell you”

“Why not? We’ve know each other since we were kids, you can tell me anything.”

“You’re gonna- you’re gonna hate me.”

“I could never hate you. I’ve seen do a bunch of things and I’ve never once hated you.”

“I’m in love with you.” You blurted, your hands scrambled to your mouth covering it in fear of more words spilling out unchecked. The room fell silent and you heard Bucky’s breathing stop short. You’d ruined everything. Your whole chest ached as your heart beat ramped up, slamming against your rib cage, your ears ringing as the precious Eden you’d created with him began to crumble and rot. Neither of you said a word for what felt like forever, then he slowly pushed you away from him and he rose from the bed slipping on his shoes. “Wait, no don’t leave please.”

“You just had to go ruin it didn’t you? It’s like your specialty.” He turned to you sweeping his hand through the air as he spoke “ Y/N professional ruiner.” He scoffed as he returned to tying his laces “I mean God! You had one job! And it was to lay there and not talk, but you just had to open your mouth.” Every single poisonous word that fell from his tongue knived you.

You held onto his back trying to pull him back into bed “No please, please don’t leave me!” You cried, hardening your grip as he tried to stand.

“You’re so pathetically lonely, you always have been.” Bucky pushed you into the bed, holding your hands above your head as he glared down at you “You’re just like a dog you know that? A creature that can’t survive without its master. That’s what you’ve made me isn’t it? Your master. Well I can’t be anymore, the little doggy needs to realise that she can’t keep forcing people to be in her life, dragging people into her misery!” As he berated you you sobbed, trying to turn away from his scrutinising, to cover your ears. He was right, you were dragging him down into your misery. You were pathetic. You were harming him and his life by existing. “You know what? How about, as a parting gift, we do it one final time? Give the bitch what she wants? Would that make you happy? Would it finally fill that gaping hole inside of you?”

You nodded tearfully, gnawing down on your bottom lip to stop sobbing. It didn’t stop anything. In fact it just made the helpless feeling inside you fester.

He began tearing your clothes off, tugging at your shirt harshly making it catch your ear as he yanked. You resisted the urge to yelp, you didn’t want to anger him further. He tossed it carelessly and gave you a light slap on your cheek before squeezing your face in the palm of his hand. “You’re so pretty when you cry.” He let out a dark chuckle as he scrunched your face “You are pathetic aren’t you? I can’t believe it took me this long to realise just how pathetic you truly are. You can take off your skirt can’t you?” You whine out a yes and start to undo your skirt, but your eyes are drawn to Bucky undressing above you. You watch the muscle under his slightly tanned skin stretching and tensing as he removes his clothes. Once he was nude he looked down at you expectantly, catching your wander gaze with a stern scowl “Why are you still wearing clothes? I just told you to take your skirt off. Do it.” You scrambled to unzip your skirt, fiddling with the zipper. Bucky tutted, grabbing the sides of the fabric and tearing it apart “Simple.”

More tears filled your eyes as he yanked off your panties. You closed your eyes and thought back to the other times you were together in different hotels, how gentle he was as he stroked the soft flesh of your thigh and nibbled at your skin, whispering promises and praise as he approached your core. He’d stretch and tease you till you begged him for more and even then he’d be so very careful as he entered, pressing his skin against yours as much as possible just to feel even closer to you.

A searing pain shot through your scalp, making your eye shoot open, as he pulled your hair wrapped around his strong vibranium fingers “Face down, ass in the air.”

“Aren’t you going to prep me first?” You asked sheepishly, your voice not going above a whisper.

“Why the fuck- No. Just do what I told you to do. I’m hard, I want to fuck you.” He scoffed, clearly tired with your constant hesitations and questions.

Hesitantly you sat up and presented yourself to him, hoovering your face above the pillows. He pushed your head down, your heart jumped, fear blooming in your chest; for a brief moment you thought he was going to suffocate you, the reminisce of his smell on the pillows filling your lungs. He released your head, you lifted your face from the pillow slightly “Stay down.” He ordered sternly, sounding bored as his dripping tip pressed against your entrance. You did as he said, lowering your cheek back down on the cheap fabric of the pillow case; you began fiddling with the cream coloured fitted sheet, rubbing the fabric between the tips of you fingers. Waiting. Then you felt him push into you, a searing, stretching pain tingling through every fibre of your being as his thick shaft parted your walls. You weren’t as wet as usual, you weren’t as ready as usual, you were afraid of him in this moment. More afraid than you’d ever been in your life. “Fucking tight. God no wonder I keep coming back to you, it’s this pussy. It’s like silk.” He sheathed fully inside of you, ramming his weeping tip against your cervix.

“Ow! Buck, slow. P-please.” You requested timidly, stuttering out the last part fearfully, feeling a sense of uneasiness churn your insides.

He guffawed in response, leaning his head down to rest against your arched spine. Warm puffs of air made your hairs stand on end as he laughed at your request. Finally he rose back up, swiping a tear from the corner of his eye “Last time I checked whores don’t have much of a say in how their clients fuck them. Lay there and look pretty, moan for me, scream for me, but for fucksake whatever you do just don’t talk. You’re driving me crazy.” He pulled out in one Swift motion before slamming himself back inside, relishing in the cry that left your lips “I’m gonna use your little slut hole and you’re gonna thank me for it aren't you?” His voice deepened as he asked, changing his pace from long and brutal to shallow and fast. When you didn’t answer he slapped your ass harshly and clawed at your back leaving painful, searing red streaks “I said. You’re going to thank me, aren’t you.”

You choked on your tears as you answered, managing to croak out a very quiet “yes, Bucky.” Before burying your face back into the pillow in embarrassment from the sound of how ruined your own voice sounded. You took a deep breath in, taking in the lingering scent of Bucky’s cologne. Magnolia, vanilla, leather and petrichor. You chanted the list of fragrances, hoping it would carry you away to a better time. But the sound of his grunting, the sound of his skin colliding with yours and the painful, heavy sadness weighing on your head was too much for you to think back to the past. You were trapped here, under him as he ruthlessly pounded into you.

You felt his once loving cool, metal hand snake around your throat squeezing tightly, you began to choke spit flying from your mouth onto the already tear dampened white pillows “The one good thing about you is you feel so much better than her and you let me do whatever I want to you. You let me choke you.” Bucky gave your throat two strong squeezes before removing his hand to allow you to breathe “she- ah squeezing again? God I’m gonna miss this tight cunt. She’s so vanilla, only missionary, no blowjobs and I practically have to beg her to let me eat her out. But you, you’re a little whore, you'll do anything as long as I pump you full of my cock.” As he finished talking Bucky slammed his hips into your ass, watching it jiggle at the force. He craned his neck down and bit the supple flesh, grinding his teeth and licking the mark before returning to his thrusts, slapping your ass just to hear you yelp. You squeezed him even tighter every time he slapped your ass and with each moan and cry your voice sounded more and more ruined, you hated that even when he was treating you like dirt your body responded to him and he could draw this much pleasure from you.

The gradual heat that had been rising within you was becoming unbearable and the moans you have been trying to silence we’re now impossible to silence “That’s it. Scream for me.” A deep, guttural moan escaped from his open mouth, his hand on your hip growing stronger, to the point that you could feel bruises sprouting “Fuck. So close. So goddamn close, I need you to milk me with you tight hole.” Bucky’s metal hand moved away from you head and slipped underneath you, gathering your slick and fiddling with your clit with his thumb.

“Ahh! So good! So good, Buck!” His hand that was holding your hips buried itself in your hair before he yanked it at. You screamed in response to the burning in your scalp

“I said no talking you fucking whore!” You sniffled in response, feeling your release draw nearer. You pushed back against him choking out a moan as you came on his cock, your walls pulsing and squeezing around his twitching length. Bucky rammed into you a few more time with uncoordinated thrust, believing out a loud “Fuck!” As he painted your walls white. A whimper crawled from your throat as he pulled out; you could feel his seed leaking out of you. Bucky flopped down on the bed next to you pulling a few tissues from the bedside table to clean himself. An awkward silence permeated through the room. Not once after having sex with Bucky did you feel dirty, but today you did. You felt an indescribable urge to get home and scrub yourself till your skin bleed to even hope to remove the icky, gross feeling spread across your skin.

Slowly you lifted your head from the pillow and carefully laid down on your back, wincing as you reddened bottom came in contact with the quilt. You laid there staring at ceiling, tears making your vision swim. Bucky’s rough hand entwined with yours; he squeezed your hand twice and swiped the pad of his thumb across your knuckles tenderly “She’s pregnant. I thought I should tell you. She's gonna give me that family I’d always dreamed of.” The words that were crawling up your throat died, you died. Your body went rigid at the word, pregnant. Of course she was pregnant. The word made you sick, it made you jealous, it made you a crucible of contempt boiling over a bunsen flame—you were going to explode. “We'll, aren't you going to say anything? I’ve been wanting this for a long time. I thought you’d at least be happy for me.”

“Congratulations.” The voice that came out didn’t sound like you, It sounded robotic, metallic and forced. But that was all you could manage, if you said anymore you might snap and strangle him or go kill her. You hated yourself for hating her. But it didn’t make the nagging belief in the back of your mind that it should have been you. That it was destined to be you. He was yours, you were his. It was meant to be you at the altar, meant to be you telling funny stories at your wedding about how you were childhood friends that went to high school and college together, who both had brewing feelings that you both kept suppressed and when you finally both got the courage to confess you had to move for work, but destiny made it so you would both reunite and jump at the chance to confess. It was meant to be you.

“Thanks.” His tone was bitter “ I can stay a bit longer, but I’ll have to leave soon. She’s waiting for me after all.” He cuddled you close, stroking your hair, probably imagining you were her. Had he imagined you were her this whole time? Was it that painful for him to fuck you?

The amount of thoughts racing in your head made you want to step outside into the chilly night air to cool down, but now was your final chance to be with him and you weren’t going to waste it. You ran you hands across the corded muscle of his back, drawing soothing circles just like he used to do for you when you couldn’t sleep. When sleep made your eyelids heavy you barely put up a fight, you welcomed sleep with open arms, you wanted to be freed from the bleak, harsh reality and enter into a dream world where she was you. Yeah that sounded good.

“Bucky?” You called groggily. There was no reply. You crawled over to his side of the bed, it was still warm, and peered over the edge. His shoes were gone and so were his clothes. You laid back on the bed, your eyes catching sight of a torn bit of paper. You grabbed the paper and unfolded it, your hands trembling as you read it ‘I don’t want to see you anymore, please don’t bother my family. - James’ You read the words over and over praying they would change into another message, but it didn’t work. It only made the pang in your chest throb. You scrunched it in your hand as you curled up into a ball trying to disappear as you soaked up the shadow of his body heat, the memories of him that were lingering in that shadow—high school when he sat with you behind the bleachers in the rain and gave you his varsity jacket to warm you up “I’m your portable heater at this point.” He jested, letting out his signature low husky laugh that made you melt, college when he held you from behind as you cried into your pillow about your college senior boyfriend who dumped you, because he was graduating; you could still feel the phantom of Bucky’s warmth whenever you were sad thanks to that day. The day he stroked your hair and whispered into your ear that “He didn’t deserve you.” And that he’d “never make you feel like this.” Well he had so many times, he was right now. But it hurt even more now, it was over for good. You’d lost him, you were too many years too late and now you were just clutching to fleeting memories, but God if the feelings didn’t sting every time you thought about him. It was hard not to, he’d dominated every significant moment of your life. But now you were barred from his perfect little family.

Slowly you unscrunched yourself from the ball you’d folded yourself into, spreading your body out like a starfish drying out on the beach. Your throat was scratchy from crying and your eyes were heavy and swollen. Everything hurt, but simultaneously you were so numb.

You thought of showering, you thought of searching through your bag for some pain meds, you thought of driving your car off the bridge back to the city. You thought a lot, as you laid there staring at the yellowed patches on the popcorn ceiling from water damage.

You thought so much and so hard that you didn’t even notice you’d started crying, again, you were drowning in your emotions. You were huddled in a lifeboat slowly filling with water, with no sight of land. You were waiting for him to save you, but he wasn’t coming back “I wanna be yours. Just wanna be…”

A disembodied voice continued “Yours. Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought.” The sweet sound of the man’s singing stops “I thought we were gonna sing together, sweetheart.” There was a soft knocking on the wall next to your head “No more crying okay? Guy was a dick anyway.”

“Who are you?” You questioned, sitting up and pressing your ear against the paper thin wall

“A person who’s also been left out to dry, a person who also needs someone to stop me from drowning. If you want some comfort I can come over; we can just lay here, Y/N.” The way he said your name brought back so many memories, you knew who he was

“Ari?” You asked hesitantly, the man who Bucky said didn’t deserve you all the way back in college was on the other side of the wall. He’d listened to everything. You wanted to evaporate.

The door knob of your room jiggled and then the door creaked open. In the doorway was Ari, droplets of rain trickling down his skin. He dipped his head down so he didn’t hit it as he entered your room, his brown hair was a bit longer than it was in college, his beard a bit fuller, he was much more muscular and his chest was more hairy; but for the most part he was the same, he even still had the same crotchety, yet solemn look on his face “Hiya, Sunshine.” His voice was low and soothing, as if you were the finest China that he was worried about shattering. He closed the door gently and walked over to the side of the bed, crouching down to try to make his bearish figure smaller and less daunting “Long time no see. didn’t think the next time I’d see you would be in a shoddy motel, but life is nothing if not unpredictable, right?”

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One stop off of heaven

Choose your path ➦

My girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

All ends well from Bucky and his girl, now they have to make up for lost time and miscommunication.

Chapters:

🛎️Part 1: I'll call you mine - Coming soon

🛎️Part 2: You're my sweet complete desire - Coming soon

Drabbles:

Coming soon (open to thots/asks)

I wanna be yours

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader → Ari Levinson x Reader

Bucky might not want you, but someone from your past absolutely does and he won’t let you be treated like you’re worth nothing. He’ll go above and beyond to show you what love truly is.

Chapters:

🗝️Part 1: Snap out of it

🗝️Part 2: Arabella - Coming soon

Drabbles:

Coming soon (open to thots/asks)

Unfinished Beefy!Bucky x Reader Drabble

Pairing: Soft Dom!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Lots of steamy kissing, Beefy!Bucky, biting, marking, mentions of blood, size difference, Bucky has tattoos, Bittersweet (reader is hella sentimental, because I was in a sappy touch starved mood whilst writing this)

Here’s another thing from my pile of unfinished things, that will probably never be finished. This was either meant to be part of a biker!bucky fic or roommates!bucky fic but at this point I don’t know so here you go, enjoy.

His strong hands hooked under your thighs pulling you impossibly closer to him as he harshly slammed you against the steamed up shower room glass. The cold glass electrified your senses causing your nipples to pebble and your whole body to be covered in goosebumps. Bucky craned his neck down to lick and suck at your throat causing blossoms of red and purple to bloom under his demanding mouth. You let out whines and moans as he sucked, you tugged at his dark wet locks. Bucky let out an animalistic groan whilst sinking his teeth into the area where your neck and shoulder met, his head suddenly rose just enough to meet yours. He leant his forehead against yours, kissing you and forcing your mouth open with the prod of his tongue. The kiss tasted metallic, like blood you peered down at where Bucky had bit and saw a faint copper tinge to the water that was running down your shoulder. He had bit you harder than you expected, but the overwhelming pleasure of being enveloped by him must have overridden the pain from his teeth sinking into your neck. He nudged your cheek with his nose, causing you to turn back to him “I’m not finished kissing you yet. You can look at my handy work later, kiss. Now.” He demanded in a hushed hoarse voice. He nibbled at your bottom lip before reconnecting your mouths. His kisses make you crazy, they make you crave more, they make you want to hold on to him and never let go, they make you never want to lose him, ever, they make you desperate, sentimental even…that doesn’t happen much. Your hands fall from his hands and begin travelling all over his body, parting the hot stream of water with your finger as you trace his tattoos. His tongue explores your mouth and tangles with your tongue. He pulls away breathless, eyebrows knitted together chest heaving. Your heart pounds against your rib cage as if it’s desperate to escape. The sight of him so utterly destroyed just for you, you both broke each other down, both of your defences were worn away and now you could see each other for the first time and you loved it, you loved him.

Unfinished Dark!Bucky x Reader Drabble

Warning: smut, asphyxiation/choking, marking, manipulation, dark!stalker! Bucky, dark!soft dom!Bucky, Stockholm syndrome, breeding (maybe soon if I finish it)

Nicknames: Doll

I have no idea if I’m going to finish this, you’re meant to be locked in Bucky’s basement and you’ve kind of developed Stockholm syndrome and developed a dependency on him—you want him to mark you, you want him to breed you—but that because you’ve been manipulated. This is just a fragment, so the story line isn’t that obvious enjoy.

Update: This story will be continued soon in a series called ‘Now and Forever’ coming soon

His thick arm pressed to your throat holding you in place preventing your head from swivelling away from the sight on top of you. His hair moist with sweat, darkened and glued to his forehead, his steely blue eyes stare intensely down at you with uncharted amounts of passion and love-fuelled aggression as he pounds you into the mattress. The sound of skin meeting skin bounces off the walls, the force of his thrust ensuring you’ll wake up with red marks, possibly even bruises, from the impact of his hips, and you wouldn’t have it any other way; you want his mark to remain permanently on you even if only you can see it, it’s a bittersweet reminder of the steamy nights we’ve shared. The lustful scent of sex fills the room as the humidity rises high enough for the rain covered windows to steam, enabling you to dive deeper into your fantasy of the world only containing you, him and this room.

You are snapped out of your trance by Bucky lowering his head to your earlobe, his prickly stubble itching your jaw and cheek, he encompasses the shell of your ear in his mouth and nibbles down on the thin skin prompting a yelp from your lips “Come back to me doll, keep your beautiful eyes on me.” His voice deep and thick with lust goes straight to your loins causing your walls to flutter around his throbbing cock.

Timeless

The timeless love that Bucky had

I found it in a dusty shoe box today. 

The photograph. 

Folded corners, a little torn on the edges, and yellowed with age. Still, the image was clear enough to see your grin. boyish and crooked, the same one that made my heart skip in 1941. 

He was standing in front of the corner diner in Brooklyn, arm slung around me, your military uniform still crisp from training. my dress was too long, my hair and soft curls. You say I looked like the dames in the movies, though I never believed you. 

I sat on the floor of our apartment- our apartment, the one SHIELD helped me find after they confirmed you were alive and time folded and on itself. Because just like that, I was 19 again. Just like that, I could smell the leather of your bomber jacket and hear the way you'd say my name, like a prayer and a promise all wrapped in one. 

The war stole everything. You, Steve, entire lifetimes. 

I cried the day they said you'd fallen off the train. Not the soft, cinematic tears they show in films, but the ugly, just even kind -  the kind where grief grabs you by the throat and doesn't let go. For decades, you were a ghost I couldn't touch. A heartbeat I thought I imagined. The man I loved turned myth. 

But now you're back. 

Not the same, not entirely. There are cracks in you, deep ones, and shadows behind your eyes that weren't there before. Sometimes you flinch when I touch you. Sometimes you look at me like you are remembering, and other times like you wish you could forget. 

But then there are the other times. 

Like when we walk through Central Park and you still reach for my hand, like instinct. Or when you find old swing records and the antique shops and your face softens-  because you know that's our music. The Andrews sisters, Ella Fitzgerald, Glenn miller. You dance with me in the kitchen sometimes, when the memories aren't too loud. 

And in those moments, I know what we are. 

We’re timeless. 

We always were.  from the second I locked eyes at the USO dance and you offered me a Coca-Cola with that charming little smart. from the letters you sent me, ink smudged and pages worn, telling me you'd be home soon. From the nights I kept the porch light on, hoping. 

Even now, with silver in your hair and the world completely changed, I look at you and I know. You're always meant to come back to me. Somehow, some way. Even when time tried to erase us. 

And when we're old, if we're lucky enough to grow old, I hope someone finds that photo of us. I hope they ask about the girl with stars in her eyes and the soldier who came back from the dead. I hope they feel what I feel when I look at it: 

That this love, the story, was always something out of time.

Something not of this world. 

Something timeless. 

Last Kiss

Bucky Barnes leaves for war from her perspective.

I still remember the way the air felt that night. 

Heavy, like it knew. Like the sky itself was holding its breath. 

You didn’t say it, not really. You didn’t need to. I knew you were leaving. I knew this was the last night. And I knew the second  I saw you in that uniform, stiff, and crisp, and not you, that everything was about to change. 

You tried to act like it was fine. Like we had time. You smiled that crooked smile, the one that always made me forget how to breathe. And I laughed. I laughed at your dumb jokes, because if I didn’t, I’d cry. And I wanted- God, I wanted to be strong for you. 

We sat in our booth, like always. The waitress called you “soldier,” and you smiled at her, but I saw the flicker in your eyes, you were scared. I was too. 

When we left, you walked me home even though it was out of your way. You always did that. I think you liked pretending we lived in the same world, like you could stay in it just a little longer. 

We stood outside my building for a long time, neither of us saying anything. The city faded around us - cars, people, lights - they'll just.. disappeared. It's just you and me.

And then you kissed me. 

Slow. Careful. Like you were memorizing me. 

Like if you kissed me soft enough, maybe the war would forget your name. 

That was the last kiss. 

I didn't know what to say when you pulled away. I didn't want to cry, so I just nodded. I wanted to say "I love you,” but I didn't. I was afraid that if I did, you wouldn't leave -  and part of me was selfish enough to want that. But the rest of me knew... you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t go. 

So I let you walk away. 

You didn’t look back. 

But I did. 

I watched you turn the corner, and I whispered it then, “I love you.” Quiet. Just for me. Maybe the wind carried it to you. Maybe not. 

You came back eventually after so many decades, but I’m no longer here. 

After so many years, I would lay awake sometimes thinking about that night. About that night. About that kiss. About the boy who held my hand like it was a lifeline and kissed me like he was already gone. 

I never kissed anyone the same after that. 

But with me now gone, I wish you could with someone new. 

NOT THE RASIN WEETABIX LAUREN 😭😭

Mystery man

This is a female reader x bucky barnes story

This is my first time writing a one shot please enjoy

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The sun is shining through my baby pink cotton curtains as jarvis announces the time "6:30 Miss y/n, you have breakfast scheduled for 7:00 accompanied with Mr Hogan, followed by training at 8:00 with your new instructor mr barnes".

Ah yes the Mystery man that all the shield agents seem to be obsessed by Mr Barnes the fearless soldier. Guess today we can put a name to a face.

I rolled out of bed slowly dragging myself to the joint bathroom i share with tessa shes also an agent but also the closest thing i have to family. We enrolled into the academy together and since then we have been as close as ever. I pick up my tooth brush take off its protective cap and put some toothpaste on. While brushing my teeth tessa makes an appearance brushes her hair.

" whats your schedule?" I ask her while spitting out toothpaste

"Ive got a meeting with Hill at 7:00 and then me and a few other agents have a mission with Rogers at noon, what about you?" she answers

"Breakfast with Hogan and training with Barnes"

"Omg u get to train with Barnes im so jealous, however ive heard hes ruthless so good luck"

I leave her in the bathroom closing my door behind me. I walk over to my vanity and pick up my hair brush and put my hair into double dutch braids while applying some sun cream and day cream on to my face. Gotta keep my young looking face i think then i smile at my self in the mirror and say you can do this.

I walk to breakfast and was automatically greeted by happy who was waiting for me in the kitchen. He talked me through security details while we had some lovely raisin weetabix.

I stand up from the table and place my dish and spoon in the sink and turned to face happy.

"Ive got to go now i need to meet Barnes" he nodds and i walk down the corridor and took a left.

I walked into the gymnasium there was a sparing place in the middle of the floor which was surrounded by multiple various different gym equipment.  In the middle of the floor stood a man around 6ft tall, dark slick back hair, muscular and one strange noticeable feature... a metal arm.  Oh and one other thing hes incredibly gorgeous no wonder everyone was so obsessed.

"You are y/n i assume" he questioned

"Thats correct sir"

"Dont call me sir i feel old, call me barnes... now lets see what u got"

He made me run lap around the hall, lift weights and occasionally fight each other. It felt like hours had passed.

"Im fed up, im not doing anymore" i refuse and drop to the floor.

He looks down at me in amusement

"You have only been training for an hour u still have another hour left. Now get up" he says that last part more stern than pervious.

"No i cant move, you cant make me do something if i cant move"

Tension starts to pick up

" get up off your lazy arse right now and give me another 10 laps" he said fury burning within his eyes

"Make me"

We stared deeply in one anothers eyes both with hatred flowing through us. He walks closer towards me causing him to tower over more. I stan up so the height difference wasnt so great but he still seemed to tower over me. We stared intently into each others souls both of us not wanting to break away first to give the other the delight of winning.

A slight smirk forms across his face and he reaches out for my arm while im stille distracted by his ocean blue eyes. He flips me on the floor and pins me down. Still not breaking eye contact. 

"20 laps now"

I can tell that me and metal man are going to have lots of fun...