Sunday dawned and you had barely slept. Dragging yourself out of bed, you set about eating breakfast and cleaning your apartment. Your stomach is in knots considering everything that happened last night. Foggy’s adverse reaction, the revelation about Matt, the fact that your two worlds would collide tonight and, most disturbingly, the stalker. At least, you were labeling them a stalker since they were supposedly following you.
You were still questioning that. Why would someone follow you? You are a nobody. Maybe Foggy was right and you were being followed because of who your friends are. It still didn’t make any sense to you though. You were just their friend and nothing else that you did affected their missions in any way that mattered. Matt had to be mistaken. It had to be someone following him or maybe even Foggy. It couldn’t be you but you knew in the end, no matter who the target was, your friends would help.
A quick trip to the grocery store, an afternoon of baking to calm your nerves, then on to a shower and getting ready for your friends. You aren’t sure how you feel about Foggy right now. The way he had acted the night before disappointed you immensely and now you’re questioning your feelings for him. He’s a really good guy but could you trust him when the first test of your burgeoning relationship had him turning his back on you? You had long held onto the quote, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” You didn’t often let yourself get to “shame on me.” Too often you have let people use you, step on you, and hurt you because you thought you needed their friendship. You were never going to be a doormat again.
Sunday dawned and you had barely slept. Dragging yourself out of bed, you set about eating breakfast and cleaning your apartment. Your stomach is in knots considering everything that happened last night. Foggy’s adverse reaction, the revelation about Matt, the fact that your two worlds would collide tonight and, most disturbingly, the stalker. At least, you were labeling them a stalker since they were supposedly following you.
You were still questioning that. Why would someone follow you? You are a nobody. Maybe Foggy was right and you were being followed because of who your friends are. It still didn’t make any sense to you though. You were just their friend and nothing else that you did affected their missions in any way that mattered. Matt had to be mistaken. It had to be someone following him or maybe even Foggy. It couldn’t be you but you knew in the end, no matter who the target was, your friends would help.
A quick trip to the grocery store, an afternoon of baking to calm your nerves, then on to a shower and getting ready for your friends. You aren’t sure how you feel about Foggy right now. The way he had acted the night before disappointed you immensely and now you’re questioning your feelings for him. He’s a really good guy but could you trust him when the first test of your burgeoning relationship had him turning his back on you? You had long held onto the quote, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” You didn’t often let yourself get to “shame on me.” Too often you have let people use you, step on you, and hurt you because you thought you needed their friendship. You were never going to be a doormat again.
Now, you wondered how it was going to be with Foggy when he came and especially how Bucky, Sam, and Joaquin would be when introduced to Matt and Foggy. You hope tonight would go smoothly and you could figure out who this person that was following one of you wants.
You set about arranging things when there’s a knock on the door. You glanced at the clock and realized it was over a half hour before anyone should be arriving. Opening the door, you come face to face with Bucky.
“Hey! You’re early,” you smile as you let him in.
“Yeah, I just…” Bucky looks down at his feet then back up to your face. You read him in an instant and move to hug him.
“You’re having bad dreams again?” you say as you wrap your arms around his torso snugly.
“Yes,” Bucky whispers, holding onto you tightly.
“They’re not real. You’re okay,” you whisper reassurances to him while the two of you sway together. It isn’t the first time he’d sought out your comfort. It took him a long time to tell you about them and he still wasn’t comfortable sharing the details.
“Thanks, doll. So, um… are you still seeing that Foggy guy?” Bucky asks awkwardly as you separate.
“Um, yeah. Kinda,” you say, turning away.
“Kinda? What does that mean, doll?”
You sigh, “He…I talk about you and Sam and Joaquin a lot but…”
“He never put it together, huh?” Bucky says
“Exactly. So, when I told him, he was upset which was really hypocritical of him. And I just,” you shrug, “I like being his friend but I don’t think we’re right for each other.”
Bucky’s heart twists at the familiar sound of those words. The last thing you said to him before you left the night he kissed you, ‘I really love being your friend’, played through his head multiple times a day. He forces himself to replay it whenever he thinks of you. His way of trying to quash his feelings for you.
“You don’t have to see him again if you don’t want to,” he says as he squeezes your hand.
“Well…actually, Matt and Foggy are coming tonight. There’s something going on that you guys need to know about.”
“What is it, doll?”
“Just… let’s wait until everyone gets here and then everything can be explained all at once. I don’t want to go over it multiple times. I have a feeling we will anyway.”
“If that’s what you want. Are you going to break it off with him tonight?”
“I don’t know, Bucky. There’s not really anything to break off. It’s just been a couple of dates. Nothing’s really happened between us. Not that he hasn’t tried,” you trail off.
“Do you feel like he’s just trying to get you in bed?”
You scoff, “that seems to be the only thing anyone wants from me lately.”
Bucky’s brows furrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,“ you turn away to walk to the kitchen.
Bucky grabs your hand to stop you, “No, tell me.”
“Please, Bucky, I can’t do this right now,” you squeeze your eyes shut as your heart breaks.
“Do you think-”
Bucky’s words are cut off by a knock on the door. You hurry away to answer it, grateful to be avoiding the conversation. You couldn’t stand to hear Bucky explaining how you were a convenience, how he didn’t mean to hurt you, or whatever it is he was about to say. You just couldn’t do it right now. Not after the disappointment with Foggy and the confusion of this person following you. As soon as you open the door, Sam and Joaquin bustle in making jokes and being their normal jovial selves. You explain to them about Matt and Foggy joining you for the evening and watch as they exchange glances before looking at Bucky.
“Okay. This’ll make for an interesting evening,” Sam says.
It was just a few minutes later when there was another knock on your door. You find yourself sick to your stomach as you go to answer it. This was even more awkward than you imagined and your heart was hurting immensely.
Opening the door, you paste on a smile, “Hi Matt. How’s the head?”
“Fine. Thanks for asking,” Matt makes his way into the apartment.
Foggy is standing a little ways away, hanging back as he looks at you with an unreadable expression. You stare across at each other for a moment before you finally break the silence, “Hi Foggy.”
“Hi beautiful,” he approaches you slowly and puts a hand to your face gingerly. “I’m so sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have gotten upset with you.”
Before you realize what he’s doing, he’d leaned in and captured your lips with his. You quickly pull away when you hear footsteps. Glancing to your side, you see Bucky scowling at the two of you. Your heart sinks knowing that Bucky probably thinks less of you for letting Foggy kiss you.
You duck your head embarrassed by the whole situation, “Um, lemme introduce you to everyone.”
Foggy follows you to where the guys are gathered in a tense standoff. Matt’s head is cocked in Bucky’s direction with a peculiar look on his face.
“So, you must be the guy that swept our friend off her feet,” Joaquin attempts to break the ice.
Wishing the floor would swallow you whole, you laugh awkwardly, “Guys, this is Foggy Nelson and Matt Murdock. They’re attorneys. Matt, Foggy, this is Joaquin Torres, Bucky Barnes, and Sam Wilson.”
“Not that you need any introduction,” Matt extends his hand towards each to shake.
When Foggy does the same, you watch as Joachin smiles, Sam eyes him, and Bucky positively glowers at him. Foggy seems to shrink into himself and doesn’t keep eye contact as he shakes Bucky’s hand. You can’t blame him. Bucky can be intimidating.
Wondering if he’s annoyed with you, Foggy, or the whole situation you attempt to steer everyone to the food, “Why don’t we eat, and then I can explain what’s going on.”
“Why don’t we discuss the issue and worry about the food later?” Foggy says gently but you find it no less frustrating.
“Because then all of her hard work would go to waste,” Bucky growls.
“Uh, right. Good point,” Foggy demures, glancing at Matt.
“Would you like me to make you a plate, Matt?” You ask.
“That would be great. I tend to make a mess of things,” Matt grins and you can’t help but quirk a smile at his double meaning.
“Right,” naming the dishes, you serve him a bit of everything and set the plate in front of him. Everyone else follows suit until the table is full.
“Alright. While we’re enjoying this meal why don’t you start?” Sam gives a no-nonsense raise of his eyebrow.
“Well, you see, um…” you stutter. Fuck, you hadn’t taken the time to work out how to explain this.
“If you’ll allow me?” Matt asks kindly.
“Thank you,” you nod as he takes the lead.
“We believe our friend here has a stalker of some kind. She’s being followed by someone. A… friend of ours realized it and had an altercation with the man when he tried to confront him. The man was skilled at fighting. We aren’t sure why but suspect that her affiliation with you is a factor,” Matt explains.
“Who’s this ‘friend’ of yours?” Sam asks.
“Daredevil,” Matt says clearly.
“You know Daredevil?” Joaquin asks, wide-eyed.
“Kind of. I met him for the first time last night,” you stammer.
“How do we know it’s not Daredevil following her?” Sam asks.
“He has no reason to lie,” Foggy defends his friend.
“How well do you know him?” Joaquin asks.
“Very well. He wouldn’t do that,” Foggy affirms.
“Daredevil followed her here? I thought he stayed in Hell’s Kitchen for the most part,” Bucky asks with eyes narrowed.
“She was at my apartment in Hell’s Kitchen last night,” Foggy explains.
“You were alone when I got here,” Bucky turns to you. “How did you get home last night?”
“I took a cab. Why?” you ask confused.
“With who?” Bucky’s fists clench at his side and the sound of his metal arm flexing is a tell-tale sign that he’s angry about something.
“Alone. What the hell are you getting at, Bucky?” You are confused by his demeanor and line of questioning.
“You think she has a stalker and you let her go home alone?” Bucky growls as he stands and leans over Foggy.
“I, I, I was upset. I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t think about it!” Foggy defends himself.
“It was you,” Matt says out of the blue.
“What are you talking about, Matt?” you ask.
“The night of your first date. Someone was following you but something was different about them than the times after that. A noise that accompanied them. It was his arm. He’s not the one following you now but that night, he was there,” Matt explains.
“What? Bucky?” you look at your best friend in disbelief.
“I can explain,” Bucky looks at you pleadingly.
“You damn well better!” you shout, standing to face him.
“Can we talk about this in private?” Bucky gestures to the doorway.
“Sure,” you say flippantly, “I apparently don’t get any privacy but sure. Let’s go.”
You walk out of the room and towards your bedroom, the only place that would afford you any privacy. Bucky followed you contritely but as soon as the bedroom door was closed, he started, “Doll, it’s not what you think.”
“Explain yourself,” you say quietly but with obvious anger.
“You weren’t talking to me and so I came here to wait for you to get back so I could. Joaquin called me, told me about his conversation with you, and that you were going on a date. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It was stupid but I was worried about you.”
“So, you could have talked to me, but you decided to follow me on my date, instead?” you ask with arms crossed.
Bucky takes a deep breath before crossing his own arms and staring you down. He slowly leans into you as he speaks, “Yeah. I knew if you had a date you weren’t going to talk to me and when you’re upset about something you tend to get a bit reckless.”
Fuck, sometimes he knew you too well. Your body is reacting to his closeness making it hard to concentrate and, truthfully the two of you had bigger fish to fry tonight than this petty argument. You look into his eyes and relax your stance, “Fine.”
“About the other,” Bucky continues.
“What other?” you say.
“That comment you made earlier-”
“Later, Buck, please. Please, we have enough to concentrate on without hashing all this out again, don’t we?”
Bucky sighs, “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“But I’m not letting it go,” Bucky says as you make your way to the door.
You pause with your hand on the knob and nod before leading the way back to the front of the apartment. As you sat back down, everyone stared at you expectantly, “Everything’s fine. We worked it out.”
Bucky sits and stares at Matt for a moment before narrowing his eyes, “So, you’re Daredevil. Not what I expected.”
Matt smirks, “Gave myself away.”
“I thought you were blind?” Joaquin says.
“Not exactly. I don’t see like other people. It’s like a world on fire but it allowed me to hone my other senses,” Matt explains.
“Okay, this is all well and good but let’s get back to the problem at hand,” Sam gets everyone’s attention. “Someone is following her which means she’s in danger.”
“Honestly, guys, I still don’t think he’s following me. How do you know he isn’t following you or Foggy, Matt?” you ask.
“Because when I was fighting him he said, ‘you won’t keep her from me’,” Matt frowns.
“You didn’t tell me that,” you breathe.
“I didn’t want to scare you more than I already had. I’m sorry,” Matt looks around the table. “He’s good. Whoever he is.”
“Have you met anyone new lately?” Joaquin asks.
“Just Foggy, Matt, and Karen. And my neighbor, Ben,” you say.
“Ben?” Bucky asks.
“I met him at the bar in Hell’s Kitchen the night of our first date and then…” you trail off.
“Then what, doll?” Bucky prompts.
“He showed up here the next day. He said he was looking for an apartment. He moved in the following week,” your brain runs through your interactions with Ben.
“What’s his last name?” Joaquin asks.
“I… I don’t know. He never said but his wallet had the initials BP on it,” you remember.
“What else do you know about him?” Sam questions.
You spend some time going over everything you know about Ben, every interaction, every conversation. Together, the six of you come up with a plan to confront Ben and find out who he is working for. Bucky secures your apartment, checking everything he can think of.
“Someone should stay with you,” Sam says with a glance at Bucky as he returns.
“No, I’ll be fine,” you shake your head.
“I’ll stay, beautiful. I should be with you,” Foggy says.
Bucky’s jaw clenches as he stares at you for your reaction.
“No, Foggy. I’ll be fine,” you say looking at your hands.
“I think we’ll head home,” Matt says.
“I’ll walk you out,” you say. Walking outside with them, you look at Matt, “Can you give us a minute?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Thanks. For everything, Matt,” You say as he walks away.
“Of course. We’re friends,” Matt turns back to say.
When he’s out of earshot, you turn to Foggy, “Listen-”
“I already know, beautiful,” Foggy says. “And you’re absolutely right to. I, uh, made a pretty big jackass out of myself, didn’t I?”
“No, Foggy. You’re a sweetheart. I’d like it if we could be friends.”
Foggy nods with a small smile. You kiss his cheek, “Take care of yourself. I’ll see you later.”
“You, too. You’re always welcome to stop by Josie’s,” Foggy says before following Matt.
You walk back inside to your three friends. They all stare at you for a moment before Sam breaks the silence, “I think one of us should stay.”
“Sam, no. I’ll be fine. I think you’re all crazy. I’m still not convinced that he’s following me. Matt’s an alarmist,” you shake your head.
“Fine, we’ll go but take this,” Bucky hands you a .38.
“Do you know how to use that?” Sam asks.
You give him a disdainful look before checking the clip, replacing it, cocking the gun, and putting the safety on. You look back at him, “Yeah.”
“That’s my girl,” Bucky grins cockily.
“Alright, I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you say, guiding them all to the door.
“Doll, maybe-”
“Good night, Bucky,” you push him through the door, laughing lightly.
“Night, doll.”
You start to close the door but Bucky’s hand shoots out to stop it.
“Oh, and I still haven’t let it go,” Bucky whispers. “See you later.”
You shut the door quickly behind him shaking your head. Shit, he was still going to make you talk through it all again. You didn’t know if your heart could take it. You clean up the remnants of dinner and then head to your bedroom but a knock on your door makes you turn on your heel. Assuming it’s one of your overprotective friends, you open the door saying, “I’m fine, really-… Ben.”
“They aren’t,” Ben says as he leans in the doorway.
“What?” you ask breathlessly.
“Your friends. They aren’t crazy,” he says as he pushes his way into your apartment.
Updates and taglist: Updates for series will be made weekly. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!
Warnings: Smut. 18+. NSFW. Thirst for the Metal Armed God of Plums.
He really loves your ass. And your mouth.
He constantly thinks about your beautiful lips. All plump and perfect for kissing. How soft they are and how you let out these little sighs when he kisses you.
He also thinks about how perfect your ass and hips are. How he loves holding on to them. How much he loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and putting his mouth all over your neck.
He thinks about how soft you are. How he loves just running his hands over you. How you sigh and whimper when he touches you. How hard he gets just thinking of you.
He loves your hair. He grips handfuls of it as you take him in your mouth. Your plump lips wrapping around him. How you tease and then deliver long licks. When he takes control thrusting into your mouth and you look up at him with your beautiful eyes. The love and lust in your eyes as you watch him break apart because of your ministrations.
Have I told you how much he loves kissing you? All of you. Not just those beautiful, sensuous lips, but every inch of you. He runs his lips across your jaw and neck, collarbone and shoulder. How he makes his way to your breasts and he wants to lay there and nuzzle into you. How his lips and tongue love to lave and flick over your skin. How soft your inner thighs are. How he rubs his lips back and forth across the incredibly soft skin there. How when he spreads your legs he wants to take his time kissing his way across your mound, licking along your pussy lips, taking in your scent and rubbing his lips across you until he finally settles over your clit and descends on it with enthusiasm.
He loves how sweet you taste. How you’re legs quiver as he licks over your clit. How hard it is to stop fucking you with his tongue because your wetness tastes like honey to him. How when he sucks on your clit your breathing changes and it takes everything in him not to blow his load just hearing your sweet cries. That your pussy is so beautiful taking his fingers as he curls them into you. When you say his name and pull on his hair he wants to growl against you and fuck you harder with his tongue. Licking, sucking, kissing. Until you’re writhing under him. Until you’re begging, crying out for him to fuck you.
When his cock slides into you he nearly loses it everytime. The way your breath hitches with each thrust. When you moan his name as he slowly thrusts in and out of you. How you scream when he pounds into you. When you cry out from how deep he hits and how much he stretches you. That he loves leaving bruises on your hips as he grabs onto them and slams into you. How you clench around his cock and wrap your legs around his waist. When he rolls you on top of him and watches you ride. He can’t stop himself from thrust up into you. How you take all of him and revel in his touch.
How your face glows when you fall into oblivion crying out his name. How it pushes him over the edge knowing he did that to you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size Reader, Foggy Nelson x Reader
Features: Mutual pining, idiots in love, angst, body insecurity, misunderstandings.
Summary: When Bucky finally makes his move, you can’t believe that someone like him would ever really want you. A misunderstanding creates a rift in your friendship and, when a new suitor show up, will Bucky be willing to compete for your affections?
Updates and taglist: Updates for series will be made on weekly. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction for update notifications. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!
Natasha, Wanda, and you were scrolling through TikTok. You were laughing hysterically at the different videos you showed each other when Natasha suddenly started smacking Wanda’s arm and pointing to her phone. Wanda’s eyes grew large and she nodded giggling.
“What are you two hiding?” You smile at the two.
“Watch.” Natasha shows you the video. A headline reading “‘He’s just a friend’ ight then text him ‘lets fuck’ and see what he says” is followed with a video of the responses the TikToker got. Ranging from mean to funny to eager.
Summary: Fluff. Just stupid, ridiculous fluff because it’s what I need in my life right now.
——————————————
“Sam, are you okay? You keep moving your shoulder like it hurts.” You look at him with head tilted.
“No, I’m good. Just slept wrong or something.” Sam says.
“Or Bucky slammed him a little hard this morning in training.” Steve smirks.
“What’s the matter, Sam? Was I not delicate enough with you?” Bucky needles him with a shit eating grin.
“I’m fine.” Sam deadpans.
“Hey. I have just the thing. I’ll be right back.” You run to your room and grab a bottle of oil. Back in the common room you motion to Sam, “Come here.”
Whatever had woken you, whatever the nightmare had been about, had left you with no memory of it but all the emotions coursing through you. Fear, dread, and bitter loneliness tore at your insides. You fled your room, feeling like the walls were closing in on you. For a while, you sat in the common room of the tower trying to calm yourself. Utter exhaustion finally drove you back towards your room. Your arms wrapped around yourself and lost in your thoughts, you made your way quietly.
“Doll, you okay?” comes a low voice.
You see Bucky standing in his doorway and something in you breaks. Shuffling over to him, you press your head to his chest as a sob wracks through you. Immediately his strong arms wrap around you and his voice is in your ear, “You’re okay, Doll. I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.” He holds you until your sob abate and then stands swaying with you and rubbing your back until you feel strong enough to pull away.
“I’m sorry. I… had a nightmare.” You say.
“Don’t apologize for crying.” Bucky pulls you into his room and closes the door, “Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I don’t even remember it. I woke feeling scared and alone and… and… I don’t know. It sounds stupid now that I’ve said it out loud.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“I was gonna try to go back to sleep. What are you doing up?” You wonder why he’s awake at 2am.
“I heard someone walking down the hall and thought I’d check.” Bucky shrugs.
“Oh. Well, I’ll let you get back to sleep. Thanks, Bucky.” You head to his door.
“Anytime, Doll.”
When you reach his door you put your hand on the knob to open it but just end up pressing your forehead to the door. You were loath to leave the warmth of his presence. The loneliness had pulled at you with each step you took towards his door until you felt weighted down by it.
“Doll?” Bucky’s voice is filled with concern.
“I’m sorry.” You say reaching for the knob again.
“Doll.” Bucky’s hand covers yours. “Come on, I’ll hold you until you fall asleep.“ He pulls you to his bed. He lays down and then holds the covers up for you to crawl in. You fought with yourself for a moment, not wanting to invade his space, not wanting to be needy, but one look at his face melted any resistance. He looked at you with such open kindness. You lay down, pressing yourself as close to his body as you can, burying your face in his chest and clinging to his waist. He wraps his arms around you and tangles your legs together. “I won’t leave you alone. Promise.”
“Thank you, Bucky.” You whisper against him.
“Anything you need, Doll. All you ever have to do is ask. I’ll be here for you.” He kisses the top of your head. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You sat on your bed in tears. It was as you danced with Steve that night at Tony’s party that you had watched over his shoulder as Bucky had left with another woman. Technically, he had every right. The two of you weren’t a couple. You had been sleeping together for seven months and you were desperately in love with him, but he had told you many times he didn’t want a relationship. He never told you why, but he insisted that what was going on between the two of you stay casual. You had agreed but, stupidly, you had fallen for him and watching him take another woman to his bed hurt. You knew he probably had before but he had never done it in front of you.
For my lovely, darling friend, @fandomsaremylifeline I love you and I hope you enjoy!
Bucky and Loki are watching over the class of new recruits when they both pickup on a couple of them having a conversation nearby.
“I was thinking about asking her out,” the male says.
The female scoffs in derision, “You don’t want to do that.”
“Why not?”
“She’s still got her V card. Total prude.”
“At her age? Wow. Must be something wrong there,” he laughs.
“Right?” She laughs as they walk off.
A little while later, you had just finished your circuit and spotted the recruit that had been flirting with you a good bit, “Hey. How’d training go today?”
Bucky felt really guilty hiding things from you, but still pushed the feeling away as he started the process of his retirement, as a surprise for you.
All you ever said was that you wanted him to be happy, and now he knew that only one thing would make him happy: to retire and build up a new life with you.
It would take a total of six months to get everything done and in place. Last week, he had picked up some houses for you two to visit, and the first was a farm that was out for sale when its owner decided to move out.
Right now, he was driving you down there, after pointing out to everyone how this was a surprise, and that you shouldn’t be told that this was a visit with a buying intention.
If you liked the place, that he was going to give you that farm.
“You know that you can just tell me where we are going, right?” you looked at him as Bucky drove. “I’ll find out eventually, why not just say it?”
Bucky shook his head, trying not to smile.
“It’s my first day off in weeks,” he reminded you. “I’m supposed to be able to surprise you every once in a while.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, though smiling.
“Fine,” you chuckled. “Surprise me, then.”
He smiled as he drove into the farm, and watched with excitement as you slowly realised where you two were about to go.
“Bucky, is that a farm?” you turned to him. “Are we visiting a farm?”
“Yep,” he smiled.
You smiled largely, turning to him with a very excited look on your face.
“I always wanted to visit a farm!” you told him, elated, reaching for his hand and squeezing it, nearly jumping on your spot. “Bucky!”
“I know,” he grinned, kissing your knuckles.
“Do they have fruit?” you asked, smiling even more. “I always wanted to pick fruit, I always want to have a… uh… You what a hortais?” you asked, slipping into Portuguese.
Horta.
He knew that word, right? You’d been teaching him Portuguese, and it was a bit like Romanian.
But wasn’t that a blood vessel? A horta?
“With the vegetables,” you added. “Planted on the ground.”
Bucky just blinked, confused.
“Like a garden, but for vegetables,” you added.
“Oh,” he mumbled.
That was it?
“A vegetable garden,” he told you.
Your smile fell for a moment, and you frowned, grimacing a little.
“English is so boring,” you shook your head.
He snorted, used to the little comment by now. You had spent so many years speaking Portuguese that English was almost new to you, considering you had had your memory erased by Hydra many, many times.
“Well, they do,” he told you. “And a strawberry field.”
Your eyes sparkled. Oh, yes, Bucky knew you always wanted to see a strawberry field.
“Can we pick them out?” you asked, eager.
“As a matter of fact, yes, we can,” he told you, still squeezing your hand.
“Amazing!” you smiled more, and looked over the road. “Are we there yet?”
He laughed at your excitement.
“In a minute.”
You squeezed his hand more, and waited silently, walking out of the car with the biggest of grins and grabbing his hand right back when Bucky moved to your side.
“Come on,” you pulled him. “I wanna see the strawberry fields!”
Bucky let you drag him into the farm, and the employees explained everything as you squeezed him and smiled largely along, squeezing his arm when you two got to the field.
“I always wanted to go to a place like this,” you whispered when you were finally alone.
He chuckled, a little lost. Bucky was a city boy through and through; he had never had any experience with farms or whatever, but this was a big dream for you, and he would love to live like this with you: have a nice time in a farm, have some chickens, and your own little hortaand fruit garden.
Bucky looked in your direction, and stopped, a little surprised, when he realised you were nearly crying.
“Honey?” he whispered.
You nodded slowly.
“I always wanted to come to a place like this,” you told him, looking forward, and watching the place. “Thank you.”
Bucky smiled, raising your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
“If you like it, we can come here more often,” he offered. “Maybe once a month?”
“Oh, we would come every single week if I could,” you told him, grinning, look so damn happy he had to hold back from telling you the truth, that this was to be your home. “Oh, we could bring the twins. They would love this…”
A glimpse of something new crossed your face, and you looked at him, a little hesitant, making your boyfriend stop and try to understand it.
“What is it?” Bucky asked after a few seconds.
“I wish we could bring our kids here,” you whispered softly, sounding so hopeful and with a lovely look on your face and some pink blush over your cheeks. “When-…”
You interrupted yourself, and your eyes widened as you looked at him, a little cared.
“If,” you corrected your own words.
Bucky shook his head. No, not if.
“When,” he told you, repeating your first words. “When we have them.”
Your beautiful lips curled in a happy smile, and you turned forward again, looking more hopeful and happy now.
“When we have them,” you continued. “I want to bring them here.”
Bucky smiled.
He could raise your kids here, a bunch of little rascals who looked like both you and him, who would run around with sunscreen all over their faces because you would worry about the going in the sun, and clothes that would be most likely always dirty because they would always be in contact with nature and dirt.
And they would be so happy, healthy and well-fed, because you two would be careful fathers, and would make sure they were always healthy.
“We will,” he assured you, and tugged on your hand. “Come. Let’s see the strawberries.”
Right after you had finished preparing his bottle, Tommy had woken up very - very - hungry, and you had given the first twin for him to hold as you walked to the latter’s crib, and the baby in his arms refused to let you pick him up after that, which meant Bucky was tasked with feeding him.
His heart was beating so fast that he didn’t even know if it was normal or possible. Half the time, he thought little Billy was going to choke on the warm milk, but whenever he tried to correct his posture, the boy just gripped the bottle and continued sucking, in a nearly infinite hunger.
When the bottle was dry and his stomach full, you stepped closer to the two with Tommy in your arms.
“Rest him over your chest and shoulder like this,” you instructed carefully, showing how you had the baby against your chest, with his head a little over your shoulder and a little cloth protecting your skin. “And give his back a few taps.”
Taps?
He was supposed to hit him on the back? How was that even wise?!
“What?” he asked.
“He needs to burp,” you pointed out. “Or he’ll be gassy. And you don’t want that baby to be gassy.”
Bucky’s eyes widened, and he fumbled with Billy, trying to be careful with him as he held him, using his metal arm to safely secure him and tapping his back with his right hand, as softly as possible.
“It’s okay,” you told him. “You can be a little firmer.”
He looked back up at you, and held his breath when you secured Tommy against you with a single arm, coving his hand with yours and showing how he was supposed to be tapping on Billy’s back.
“There you go,” you smiled.
Bucky nodded, hesitant, and released a breath when he felt the little boy burping over his shoulder.
“Oh, good,” he sighed.
When he looked up at you, however, you were staring at him with shock on your face. .
“I’ll get you a new shirt,” you told him, walking away with the little boy.
Before Bucky could ask what was wrong, he felt it. The wet goo, dripping down his metal arm, very warm.
“What is this?” he asked, wide-eyed.
“Baby puke,” you said in a confessional tone, bringing him another shirt. “I didn’t know you hadn’t been around babies before.”
Bucky exhaled, watching you put Tommy in a space that really just looked like a baby jail and walking to him, taking a fussy Billy away from his arms.
“I have,” he confessed, taking off his shirt. “But just my younger sister, Rebecca. It’s been a while.”
The little smile on your face disappeared, and he looked away. He missed Rebecca very much. The last he heard, she was already dead, but her children were alive, and it still pained him that he couldn’t have said goodbye.
Billy struggled in your arms, reaching for Bucky and whining, and he picked the little baby up again.
“It’s okay,” he rubbed the little boy’s back. “I’m here, Billy.”
You moved back to pick Tommy up, and Bucky was left staring at the brown-eyed little boy in his arms. He looked a lot like Wanda, now he was looking at him with attention. He had her eyes and her cheeks.
Bucky stopped and looked at you enchanted as he watched you tickle Tommy very gently, making soft cooing sounds and grinning excitedly when he giggled at you.
“Do you want to go out to the park?” you suggested, turning to him. “In half an hour, maybe?”
He nodded, still a little awed.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Of course.”
“Let’s just wait until a little for them to do their business,” you caressed. “Then we can change them and have a little walk.”
Fifteen minutes later, Bucky was showering after a little mishap with changing the babies, and watched as you held Billy in your arms, watching Tommy in his stroller.
“He doesn’t want to get in the pram,” you told him.
Bucky frowned, picking Billy up again.
“Pram?” he repeated.
You thought with yourself for a second.
“Stroller,” you corrected yourself.
He nodded, and held Billy gently.
“I guess he wants to be held,” he remarked.
You just smiled and pushed the wheeled little cart away, and he followed after you, still holding Billy in his arm.
It was a nice feeling, to have that kid in his arms and wanting him, wanting to be around him.
Sure, Billy and his twin brother were Wanda and Vision’s son, not his. He was just their uncle and neighbour.
But… it would be nice, right? To have his own kids, to raise his own little family with you. His own kiddo to puke a little bit of milk on his shirt after a feeding, to giggle as he tickled them, to give their first steps in his direction… It would be nice to be a father.
Once again, he looked at the brown-eyed boy in his arms, protected from the sun with a soft hat. The Maximoff twins were the children of two powerful parents and needed special treatment. It was unlikely that they were going to have an average existence. They would probably have their powers showing soon, and who could predict how extraordinary they would be.
Sure, you and Bucky had some serum that made you two stronger than usual, but this was it. Your biological children wouldn’t need an extra eye on them, they wouldn’t need to be trained or anything, no. If you two decided to adopt, then they would be like any other children.
Regardless, what they needed was a safe place, a home to grow, a place they could run and scrape their knees and elbows. They would get dirt on their clothes and a dog, and parents who would let them slip into their bed when the rain was too loud and scared them.
They would need two dads who were guaranteed to be stably at home with them, not on crazy missions across the world.
If Bucky wanted that, then he would need to retire.
WC:650+ words Warnings:Fluff, sweet stuff, lots of expectation. A/N: The reader-character in this story is a male character who uses he/they pronouns.
Bucky signed the papers to buy the farm the next day when you were with the twins and thought he was out helping Steve with groceries.
His best friend was there, though, helping him gather everything he needed in order to later add you to the legal documents that would make the farm yours just as it was his.
“Did you tell them yet?” Steve asked as they walked into SHIELD’s jet.
“Not yet,” Bucky sat down.
This was his last mission. Quite literally his last day, when he was going to come home and never have to go back into the field again.
You were having a gallery exhibition tonight, with your best paintings. A lot of them had already been sold, and Bucky was sure the rest would be out in a hot minute. Hopefully, he would have enough time to get ready and be there to see you being introduced, and then, when it was over, show you an amazing dinner at home.
Tony had offered to throw you two a special dinner in a fancy restaurant, and while it would be nice, this wasn’t how she was planning the day. You two were more private, and he wanted to be home for the surprises he had for you.
“So everything is going to be a surprise?” his friend looked at him, raising his eyebrows in a bit of shock. “Everything.”
Bucky nodded, excited.
“It is!” he breathed out. “And I think he’ll be happy!”
Steve scoffed.
“Happy?! Knowing you two, Y/N is going to be more than happy!” he corrected him. “We talked so much about your retirement, he looked like he couldn’t wait for the day you did it.”
He smiled and sighed. Bucky knew that you respected him and his choices, even though you didn’t quite approve of some of them.
“Gentlemen, we are landing,” Natasha announced, making him raise his head.
Alright. His last day was over.
He was officially retired.
“Buckle up,” their friend announced, at last, and he rested back on his seat.
Five minutes later, he was already hopping out of the plane and rushing to your little shared flat, knowing you wouldn’t be there, and stopped surprised when he realised Wanda was standing right there in the kitchen.
“Go shower,” she commanded. “The food is on me, I lied to them and said the twins were too fussy and didn’t want to let me go.”
He blinked, confused, as he stared at her, and his Sokovian friend rushed to hit him on the hand with a wooden spoon.
“Go!” she commanded. “I’ll be there before he starts questioning my lie.”
Bucky followed her words without another thought, and when he came out, combing his hair with his fingers as he looked around for his jacket, and Wanda had just pushed something into the over.
“I’ll put everything in a hot plate so that it won’t grow cold and FRIDAY will monitor it when I’m out,” she announced. “I’ll be there in one hour and a half with the kids, the pudimwill be ready by then.”
“Thank you,” he stood straighter, and startled when something touched his back, relaxing when he saw it was just his jacket. “And thank you again.”
“You’re very welcome,” she assured him. “Now go!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he walked out.
“And Bucky,” Wanda called, making him stop at the door.
When he looked at her, her eyes and face were soft as she looked at him.
“He will be the happiest when he learns about what you did,” she told him. “It’s all Y/N has ever wanted, to be happy with you.”
Bucky felt himself relaxing and nodded. It was a little bit of a dream: retiring and living in a farm with you, with space for pets and for your future kids to run around.
“I know,” he told her. “It’s what I want too.”
Wanda smiled, and then waved a hand, signalling that he should be on his way now.
Pairing: Bucky x reader (enemies/friends to lovers)
Word Count: 1,732
Summary: You and Bucky don’t like each other because you love each other, you’re both just two idiots in love.
Author’s Note: So my friend sent me this insta reel and right away I was like OMG have to write it haha then I realized it was from Gilmore Girls and it was more fun. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all so so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ Divider by my sweet friend @firefly-graphics thank you lovely! The reel is posted below
I love idiots in love who try to pretend otherwise! I usually get upset and want to shake them for their silliness but I love it nonetheless. Props to her for not letting bucky walk away and when she told him, ahhhhhhhhh the tension in this was amazing and I loved every minute of it!
Summary: You’re making an elaborate breakfast for you and your boyfriend, Bucky. Over the course of the conversation you realise you had no clue how old he is.
A/N: I was hungry when I wrote this if you can tell. Let me know what you think! ❤️
You hummed along to the cheerful, upbeat melody streaming from the radio. The bacon in the pan was spitting dramatically at you while you bumped your hips along to the beat. The coffee pot dinged it’s readiness and, abuzz with excitement at the prospect of caffeine, you turned in an exaggerated twirl to grab a mug.
The sight of a figure leaning against your bedroom door startled the mug straight out of your hands. The radio couldn’t overcome the sound of smashing ceramic but you ignored the mess in favour of pressing a hand to your pounding heart. “Holy shit, Bucky,” he had the audacity to laugh at you as you bent to collect the largest pieces, “don’t do that!”
Stooping to help you collect a particularly sharp piece of pointed ceramic, he asked with a voice full of innocence, “what? I can’t enter the kitchen now?”
Standing up, a pile of jagged ceramic in your palm, you huffed and moved over to the bin. “You don’t have to sneak in! And sidle up behind me like a - a -“ you words devolved into stumbling as he put an arm around your waist, lazy kisses laid on your neck. “Don’t think you can distract me,” you sighed out, already leaning back into him. “I’m very angry with you.”
Cockily, he gave you nothing but a chuckle in response. Hands clutching your waist greedily as you melted into his attention.
A sudden ding jolted you from his arms, the grumble of your stomach more enticed by the idea of breakfast than his advances, and you rushed to the toaster. Licking your lips you plucked the two slices of toast from the toaster and plonked one piece indelicately on each plate. “Hope you’re hungry?”
Wryly, he smirked at you. “Sure,” he sidled up beside you, leaning forward to twist the dial of the radio, “what we having?”
As the music clicked off, you raised a brow at him - butter knife brandished as you paused in your action. “Well, I was having fun but you turned the music off.”
Delicately, he extracted the knife from you, taking over the important job of buttering the toast while you moved back to the frying pan.
“You call that music, doll?” You shook your head with a giggle, this familiar rant of his almost funny to you now. “That’s just… noise.”
Flicking the controls to turn off the hob, you deposited two slices of bacon on each plate and dumped the pan in the sink. “You’re so old.” You told him sardonically, listening to the hiss of cool tap water hitting the still heated pan.
Dismissively, he muttered “yeah, yeah,” as he leaned around you to send the butter knife clattering into the sink. “You know in my day, they made music you could actually dance to.”
You paused in your action, aggressively scrubbing the frying pan, and looked at him with a snorting laugh. “‘Back in my day’,” you mocked in good humour. A light laugh preceded your next sarcastic question; “what are you, a hundred years old?”
With a dramatic roll of his eyes he plucked the sponge from your hand and took over. “A hundred and five, next month.” He said that so matter-of-factly you couldn’t be sure if he were just continuing along with your poor excuse for a joke.
Frowning, eyebrows pushing together, you waited for him to clarify what that had even meant. When he said nothing, you pushed; “wait, wait, what?”
Carefully, stacking the pan on the drying rack, he shrugged. “My birthday’s next month.”
Grabbing a fresh tea-towel, grimacing at the sight of water pooling on the draining board, you shook your head. “Yeah, I got that part.” You told him, catching his eyes briefly before smoothing the towel over the pan, “you’re a hundred and five?” You asked, confused by whatever joke he was telling.
Plainly, he looked at you. “Yes,” he confirmed, “you know that.”
Flabbergasted, you shook your head. “I think I’d remember something like that, Bucky?” An element of fear infected his expression at the suddenly high pitch of your voice. “It’s not like a dealbreaker,” you assured, “but… you didn’t tell me that?!”
Seeming a little more settled, he squinted at you. “I didn’t outright say it, no,” he agreed, “but it’s pretty common knowledge.”
Lips twisting you pulled your phone from your pocket, tapping furiously into the search bar. The answer shone up at you, the fact feeling more real now that it was cemented in pixels. “Huh,” you gave, clicking the phone screen off, “you’re… right.“
A laugh pealed from him as he came to lean against the counter beside you, arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah - I think I know how old I am.”
You nodded, brain still almost short circuiting with this information. “I thought when you said you were older than you looked you meant you were like… fifty or something not… a centenarian.”
Eyes narrowed, he leaned forward as though to hear you better. “A what?”
“Centenarian,” you repeated, “yknow, over a hundred.” Feeling a spark of tension rolling from him, something about this subject pulling him taut, you smirked and attempted to push him back into the quiet ease of the morning. “You’re pretty spry for an old guy.”
One brow raising at you, arms uncrossing as his shoulders dropped slightly, he asked; “oh yeah?”
Nodding, springing lightly closer to him, you sent delicate fingertips over his neck. “Yeah,” you affirmed. Then, with fingers now skimming past his hairline, you added in a husky whisper; ”full of youthful stamina too.”
He ducked his head as he laughed, one hand slung lazily over your hips as the other pushed him away from the counter and closer to you. His tone dropped and became lazy in that seductive way of his, eyes bright and dark all at once as they all but smouldered over you: “You want another demonstration of that stamina?”
The loud buzz of the egg timer you had placed atop the fridge cut off any response you could make. With a new excitement infecting every movement, making you almost clumsy with bouncy haste, you moved from him to open the oven. You heard a disappointed huff from the man behind you before the egg timer was silenced, but you ignored it in favour of opening the oven and basking in the smell of hash browns.
Oven gloves quickly secured, you pulled the tray free and felt your mouth watering at the sight of golden potato.
As you dished out the rest of the breakfast items, giving him a little extra as always, you couldn’t help a last jab. “Do you want me to cut it up for you, or maybe blend it so you don’t have to chew?”
“Very funny,” he grumbled, leaning over to turn the radio back on at almost full volume; an innocent smile shot your way.
Chuckling at his attempt to drown out the sound of your laughing words, you handed him the plate.
Summary: You were injured on a mission and didn’t tell anyone, leaving your already rocky relationship with Bucky crumbling. Was it really hate he harbored for you, or was it something else?
Word count: 4k
Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Angst, Language, Cannon level violence, Injury
a/n: This is based on an anon request and also my submission for @multi-stann‘s 1k writing event! I used the prompt “I can’t get the image out of my head.” Congrats on 1k, Mickey!! :)
“Y/N, status update.” Steve’s voice was choppy as it relayed through your comm.
You couldn’t answer him, not without giving away your position. The large wooden crates in front of you hid your body well, but they didn’t mask sound. If you were to breathe the wrong way, the ex-hydra agents a few feet ahead would book it with the intel.
“Y/N, status.” He was firmer this time; he sounded more panicked.
You felt bad for worrying him. Steve had always looked out for you ever since you joined the team. He told you one night over pain meds and tears that you were like a sister to him; like part of his family. The feeling was definitely mutual.
“Are you engaged in combat?”
You let out a steady breath and pushed the mic on your comm twice, the signal you two agreed upon. At least he would know you weren’t dead.
“Okay, no combat. Are you injured?” Another two taps to your comm and he was speaking again. “Do you have eyes on the target?” One tap this time.
He sent a quick ‘affirmative’ over the static and the line went dead. You gripped the gun in your palm a little tighter. Steve knew your situation, but he had no idea of your whereabouts. This was a six story building with countless empty conference rooms; the likelihood of him finding you before the three men surrounding the computer turned around were slim.
You knew you were better than this. Before the accident, you would have had those men on the ground crying two seconds after you walked into the room. But you weren’t the same agent you were six months ago—you weren’t the same person either. Maybe that’s why Steve had checked in with you so many times since you split up to cover more ground.
