➳a/n:this chapter just makes me squeal. WE ALSO FIND OUT THE TWINS NAMES. i gave them so much thought, and i felt like the two i chose were utterly sweet . enjoy! :) also domestic Bucky is my favorite Bucky.
➳summary: When you experience the most intense night of the summer alongside Bucky, who you nickname Steel Blue, you weren’t expecting to fall pregnant. When a positive pregnancy test meets your eyes a few days before school starts, you know it belongs to the man who you’d never see again. Until you walk into your Romanian Linguistics class and he’s your professor.
➳pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
➳warnings:unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, slight age-gap, smut throughout book, angst
➳ dedicated to my beautiful best friend pitifulbaby
As the month continued to pass by, you were now settled into October.Midterms were up, you were slowly preparing for the babies’ arrival in February, Millie was helping you with nursery themes, and somehow Bucky and Nikki became best friends despite being polar opposites of each other.
➳a/n:this chapter just makes me squeal. WE ALSO FIND OUT THE TWINS NAMES. i gave them so much thought, and i felt like the two i chose were utterly sweet . enjoy! :) also domestic Bucky is my favorite Bucky.
➳summary: When you experience the most intense night of the summer alongside Bucky, who you nickname Steel Blue, you weren’t expecting to fall pregnant. When a positive pregnancy test meets your eyes a few days before school starts, you know it belongs to the man who you’d never see again. Until you walk into your Romanian Linguistics class and he’s your professor.
➳pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
➳warnings:unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, slight age-gap, smut throughout book, angst
➳ dedicated to my beautiful best friend pitifulbaby
As the month continued to pass by, you were now settled into October.Midterms were up, you were slowly preparing for the babies’ arrival in February, Millie was helping you with nursery themes, and somehow Bucky and Nikki became best friends despite being polar opposites of each other.
➳a/n:this chapter just makes me squeal. WE ALSO FIND OUT THE TWINS NAMES. i gave them so much thought, and i felt like the two i chose were utterly sweet . enjoy! :) also domestic Bucky is my favorite Bucky.
➳summary: When you experience the most intense night of the summer alongside Bucky, who you nickname Steel Blue, you weren’t expecting to fall pregnant. When a positive pregnancy test meets your eyes a few days before school starts, you know it belongs to the man who you’d never see again. Until you walk into your Romanian Linguistics class and he’s your professor.
➳pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
➳warnings:unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, slight age-gap, smut throughout book, angst
➳ dedicated to my beautiful best friend pitifulbaby
As the month continued to pass by, you were now settled into October.Midterms were up, you were slowly preparing for the babies’ arrival in February, Millie was helping you with nursery themes, and somehow Bucky and Nikki became best friends despite being polar opposites of each other.
Opting for baggier clothes to at least try and seclude your growing bump, it was getting harder. Students were beginning to stop and stare, Bucky consciously paying attention to the room’s shifting. He would give you gentle gazes and darling smiles to help push you through to the end of each lecture before he’d finally wrap his arms around you when the classroom had emptied.
“Alright, remember! Our midterm is on Wednesday.As long as you answer the questions in the study guide and practice, all of you will be fine. Don’t hesitate to ask any questions, either. I’m here to watch you succeed.”Bucky informed the students as everyone began to pack up their belongings.
Once the room had cleared except for Millie who was checking her phone, she turned her eyes over to you. “Nikki’s waiting for me out front. Have fun house-searching!” She exclaimed. She lowered her head to press a quick kiss to your belly before hitting Bucky on the arm and leaving.
He greeted you with a wide grin, those gorgeous steel-blue eyes casting into yours. “Come here, mama,” He said, walking forward to wrap his hands through yours. You erupted into a quiet giggle as Bucky pulled you close, your bump pressing to his well-defined abdomen. He sighed, reaching his hands forward to wrap around your stomach.
“Not going to lie, I miss being able to hold you close,” He chuckled, making you smile.
“Well,your children are wreaking havoc in the womb right now. I swear one of them is bouncing on my bladder,” You sighed heavily. “And hey! We can still touch… I’m not that big yet.” You growled, earning Bucky to smile, and leaned forward to peck your lips.
“I know, I know… I’m just teasing. Are you ready to go look at these houses? The realtor just texted me.” He questioned.
Your heart flooded with warmth. “I can’t believe this… We’re actually getting our own house together.” You breathed out, gently biting at the skin on your lip. Bucky hugged you as close as he could.
“It’s surreal, I know… But I can’t wait to start this journey with you.” He whispered, kissing your ear. “And just think… Whatever house we do decide on? I’ll get to have sex with you in every single room, just to break it in and really make it ours.”
“Bucky!” You exclaimed, swatting his shoulder. “It only took one night in a hotel to make this happen… Be careful.” You reminded him, eyes narrowed.
Bucky beamed with another laugh before grabbing his keys off the desk and leading you out of the classroom. As you two walked down the halls and hopped on the elevator to take you to the bottom floor, you leaned your head on his shoulder. Life had become so much different since Sharon disappeared.
The last you saw of her, she was being handcuffed and thrown into the back of a cop car while Millie was essentially let off the hook for beating Sharon to a bloody pulp with a baseball bat. Your and Bucky’s relationship only seemed to strengthen and it gave you both ample time to focus on one another plus the idea that you would be parents sooner rather than later.
The car ride to the first house was filled with you and Bucky exchanging words back and forth about what you were both looking for in homes; family homes. When you arrived to the first listing, your eyes widened. It was beautiful.A two story brick home with a fenced in backyard. Flowers dotted the outside area with a well-manicured lawn, bringing you to gasp.
“Wow, this is stunning,”Bucky admitted with a smile, wrapping his hand through yours. The two of you exited the car and were greeted by the realtor, a friendly woman by the name of Denise. She grinned at the two of you, a folder in hand with some of the property’s biggest hits.
“Bucky, Y/N! What a pleasure to see you both,” Denise grinned as she shook both your hands before her eyes settled on your swollen belly. “Wow, I think you’ve grown since I saw you last week!” She exclaimed, bringing you to smile sheepishly.
As she led you inside, your eyes were captivated by the large front entryway. It was decked with cherrywood floors and the space was huge.
“This home is four bedrooms and two baths… It also has a fenced-in swimming pool in the back. Bucky, since you’re a professor, there is also an in-home office for you.” She explained. You could hardly listen, your excitement was bubbling when you walked into the spacious kitchen that looked out into the living room. The bar was set up with a huge chandelier hanging overhead, the countertops were a fine marble. The color scheme was simplistic, but with pops of color being introduced on the cabinet doors. There was a huge pantry with a sliding barndoor that you were obsessed with, Bucky quickly noticing how you gravitated.
Bucky fell in love with the in-home office. He could already see himself settling in and getting classwork done or maybe he visualized you seated on his lap for a round of fun while he sent his stressors away. He could envision house parties here with Steve, Sam, Millie, and Nikki. He saw the potential in the home and already, this was both of your favorites on the list.
The bedrooms were huge, with a grand master easily decided to be your and Bucky’s if you opted for this home. The bathroom seemed even bigger with a tub big enough to fix three. His and hers vanities were colored in a dark grey paint with marble countertops that had flicks of silver.
Another room was seen, this one quickly being envisioned to be the twins’ nursery. You could already see you and Bucky painting the walls different colors and theming it to whatever you had come up with. Tears welled in your eyes as you passed throughout the other areas until you were finally taken onto the balcony that was attached to the master bedroom. Large french doors opened up to a well-manicured backyard with a swimming pool in the very center that was fenced around with a slide attached.
“I can already see myself having coffee out here every morning,” You whispered, hanging onto the railing of the balcony. Bucky smiled, leaning forward to kiss your cheek as he wrapped an arm around you. Denise had left the two of you alone to explore the home for yourselves after she listed the other pros such as the best school in the district wasn’t but two miles away. Recreational activities for the kids were on every corner, along with it being in close proximity to the college for Bucky.
“Doll, I’m already in love with it, and this was only the first house.” Bucky laughed, kissing your neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He rested his two large palms on your belly and gave it a subtle stroke, feeling light taps of feet kicking against his hands. “And I think the twins agree.” He added with a gentle, heartfelt smile.
Giggling quietly, you couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Let’s check out the pool then head to the next one?” You suggested, Bucky agreeing. When you made it down to the backyard and you saw how large it was upon stepping out of the two french doors leading toward it, you had to cover your mouth to withhold the threatening gasps. Denise already knew that sound meant you were hooked.
“Should I even show you two the other three homes?” She laughed, bringing you and Bucky to share a look.
“I think it’s a good idea, yeah,” Bucky answered. “Just so we know.Right, Doll?”
“LOOK AT THE SWING! THEY HAVE A BACKYARD SWING!” You exclaimed from somewhere out in the open. Bucky’s eyes lifted when he saw you seated on the wooden swing, kicking your legs back and forth as you giggled like a teenager. Bucky broke out into a wide grin.
When Denise showed you two the other three homes, immediately none of them compared to the one with the pool and in-home office. As the day drew to a close, Denise was already preparing an offer on the first home.
“Decision has been made? The two-story home on Carter Avenue?” She asked for clarification. You and Bucky held each other’s hand, both of you grinning from ear to ear.
“That’s the one,” You smiled, already seeing yourself in the future. You envisioned the pitter-patter of toddler feet racing down the halls while you and Bucky chased in behind them, until they would turn into elementary, then middle, even high school teenagers. It swelled your heart and made your world spin quickly, causing you to leane further into Bucky for support.
“Alright, let’s get an offer together and I’ll send it over to the owners.” She smiled in satisfaction.
As you both left with your hopes lifted that this very house would be yours soon, Bucky and you sat in the car for a few moments of sweet silence. You both looked up at the home, your smile erupting.
“I can’t believe this… We’re actually looking to buy a house together.” You expressed with a bright smile. Bucky laughed, reaching a hand over to wrap it around your thigh.
“I know… I can’t wait to do this with you,” He said, his eyes casting into yours. You slowly turned your head to face him, not helping but to lean over the best you could in order to give him a kiss.
You felt a few more kicks swell in your belly, making you gasp. They were much harder than before and you giggled, hurrying to grab Bucky’s hand. You rested it on your side and his eyes widened as he felt them for himself.
“You guys are excited too, aren’t you?” Bucky asked in a sweet voice.
Soon, the two of you were back at Bucky’s shared home with Steve and Sam. The two had gone out for the night while Millie opted to spend the night at Nikki’s, giving you and Bucky some privacy… And that meant the two of you were sprawled out in bed together, binge-watching a series while Bucky graded last-minute papers.
Once he wrapped up and joined you for cuddles, you licked your lips. “Bucky, what are we going to name them?” You asked.
“I thought they’re being named Razzle and Dazzle Barnes?” He laughed, referencing Millie. You slapped his shoulder playfully, rolling your eyes as you tossed back a chip.
“I’m being serious!” You smiled. “I’m due Febuary 25th, but honestly, twins normally don’t make it to 40 weeks… And even though it seems like we have time - we really don’t. I’d like to start calling them by their name… Even if they don’t understand it yet.” You laughed.
Bucky nodded his head in agreement. “What were you thinking? Twins usually have rhyming names or the same letter.”
You bit down on your lip. “But do we really want to go traditional?”You asked.
Bucky shok his head. “No, these kids are different from others. So, they deserve two different names… How about we compromise. You name one baby, I’ll name the other?” He suggested.
You smiled excitedly. “You name the girl, I’ll name the boy?” You raised your eyebrows.
Bucky wrapped his arm around you. “I was hoping you’d let me name her… Because I already had a name in mind.”
Your eyes widened. “Really? Because I already have a boy’s name in mind…”
Bucky moved to sit up, taking this moment seriously. “You go first.” He ushered.
He helped you to sit up. You swallowed the lump that threatened to form. You had the name picked out since you were younger and you hoped Bucky would appreciate it. The first name was easy, and now that you knew Bucky, you wanted to honor him.
“Lucas Buchanan,” You answered. “And we can call him Luke for short.”
Bucky’s eyes widened. “You… You want to give him my middle name?” He asked, his eyes suddenly blurring. You nodded and that’s when you felt him pull you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you.
“Lucas Buchanan Barnes… I love that,” He laughed, kissing you passionately. You smiled widely, thankful and relieved that he approved.
“Alright! Tell me what you have for a girl,” You grinned excitedly.
Bucky smiled. “I’ve given it a lot of thought.. I have a feeling you’ll certainly be up for it, but I was just thinking of how one person in our lives has helped us so much. After all… I wouldn’t have found out you were pregnant without her telling me…”
Your eyes started to widen.
Bucky inhaled.
“I want to name our daughter after the best…Eliza Millie,”He announced
“Bucky,”You gasped, covering your mouth. It was your turn for tears to well up. He held you closer, his lips pressing against yours as you held his cheeks.
“Luke and Eliza,” You whispered. “I think they’re perfect.”
Bucky grinned. “Just like the woman carrying them,” He winked, making your cheeks heat up.
Before you realized it, the two of you found yourselves tucked away beneath the sheets, your hands roaming across one another freely. You were basking in the glow of Bucky,never having been more thankful for somebody in your life. Everything was beginning to make sense now.
A/N: Part 6 is here you beautiful people! Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated. And let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!
Summary: Imagine being an FBI agent and the daughter of Wolverine. You used to be a a black widow and Hydra assassin as well as a part of Bucky’s past, a past that he had forgotten over time, until one day, he sees your face shadowed behind the public eye, like an apparition, as if you didn’t exist. Confused over your existence and questioning whether what he saw was real, Bucky finds himself scrambling to search for clues that would lead to who you are and why he feels as if he had seen you before. You on the other hand had moved on, starting a new life for yourself and even finding yourself working with a certain lawyer. After the horrors you faced, you wanted to leave your past behind you, eventually forgetting mostly everything that ever happened. That is until the former Winter Soldier brings those memories all back.
Warnings: language, angst, blood and violence, and a slightly steamy scene towards the end. This chapter briefly mentions a crime scene that involves the assault and murder of a minor so read at your own risk.
It felt as if the world was swaying around you, shifting in and out of focus. Your head was spinning, reeling over and over with the name that was written across the card in maroon ink. That 5 letter name. Laura. There was only one person that went by the name Laura that you knew, and it was your sister. You had been too absorbed on the events before; beginning with the things that Matt had said to you, then the body of the dead girl and the vision you had of her, and now your sister. It couldn’t be a coincidence, your sister’s name written across a card right after you investigated into the murder of the girl. It had to be be him, the killer, the same man that raped and killed that little girl and left her body out in the woods to rot. You knew it the moment when you picked it up, you could smell his perfume off the small piece of cardstock. What you didn’t know was how he had managed to sneak past the other feds and officers to get to your car. And how he had come to know about your little sister was beyond you. You had worked hard to keep everything about your past a secret, and it seemed as if everything was slowly spilling out of the abyss you had locked those secrets in in the first place. First the confrontation with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, and now that bastard who now had the deaths of 4 underage girls on his hand. Your sister’s name on that card was a threat. And you were going to get to him before he could get to her or anyone else ever again.
You arrived at your apartment after what had felt like days worth of driving, unlocking the door and slamming it behind you before hurriedly locking the special lock you had made for it.
“Hey. You okay?” Your heard Yelena’s voice speak up from where she sat on your armchair in the corner, setting her book down on the table once she saw the troubled look on your face as you went over to the window to search the streets. “Y/n?”
“Hm?” You turned towards her with a distant look behind your eyes. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“I thought we promised each other no more lies. We even made a pinky promise.”
“…….Sorry.” You shook your head, letting out an exasperated sigh and pinching the bridge of you nose.
“Y/n. Is something going on?” Yelena stepped up to you with a concerned look on her face as she placed a hand on your arm.
“I think Laura is in danger.”
“Your sister? Why? What happened?”
“Have you heard about those missing girls whose bodies were found in rivers?”
“Yes.” Yelena blinked, confused by why you were bringing this up as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I heard about it in the news.”
“Yeah well. I was called to investigate his new murder victim and when I left the crime scene I found this on my car.” You handed the card.
Yelena stared down at the card in her hands, her eyes running over Laura’s name with a clenched jaw.
“Tell me that’s not a coincidence.” You started to pace the room with your hands on you hips as sweat started to build at your forehead.
“How do you know it’s him?”
“I’m pretty damn sure it’s him. I can smell his stench off it. Clive Christian’s Original Collection.”
“Clive what?”
“It’s his cologne. I smelled the same thing off the girl’s dead body.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“Yeah, I looked him up on the way here. Some rich executive named Harrison Ross. The bastard is holding some kind of Gala tonight as if he didn’t just kill a little girl. Jesus fucking Christ……….How does he know about Laura?”
“Maybe he had someone follow you and overheard you talking about her?”
“Shit.” You shook your head, placing both your hands on top of your head, thinking back to the time that you had dinner with your dad at the pub. Considering how many people were there, it’s possible that any one of them could have been working for Ross. “This is all my fault.”
“What? No. None of this is your fault.”
“But still. If I had been more careful-” You stopped, turning towards your front door at the sound of footsteps.
“Who is it?” Yelena followed your gaze, her hand slowly reaching for her gun at her hip.
“It’s my dad, and Laura. They just got out of the elevator.” You breathed out before turning back to her. “Listen, I need you to look after Laura.”
“What, why? Y/n, what are you going to do?”
“What I have to do.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means.” Yelena hissed, making sure to keep her voice low so that your father would not overhear.
“Just promise me that you’ll look after her. My dad can’t know about this or else he’ll freak the fuck out and go on a rampage.” You grabbed Yelena’s hands. “Promise me you’ll do that.”
“……..Okay. I uh, I promise.”
“Thank you.” You gave her a hug before handing her a piece of paper. “I’m going to need you to take yourself and Laura to the address that’s on there.”
“Wait….isn’t this where-”
“Yeah I know. It’s the safest place you could be. Tell Stephen I owe him one.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m just going to go to the Gala tonight and lock his ass up in jail and that’s it. I’ll be fine.” You reassured her, but the words seemed to hold no meaning, as if they were directed more towards you, a consolation of what tonight’s events might lead to, praying that whatever happened would lead to the better end of the alternatives. At this point, you weren’t so sure just what you were about to do.
Just a second later after you had finished your sentence, your front doorbell had rang. Taking in a deep breath and banishing the dark cloud that was held over your head, you went over to open it to see you father Logan and your little sister Laura standing out front.
“Hey kiddo.” Logan smiled at you.
“Look who it is.” You smiled back, going into his embrace as he kissed the top of your head.
“Geez.” Your father scrunched up his nose. “You smell like shit.”
“Yeah well you smell like cigars and cheap whiskey.”
“Hey.” Logan put his hands on his hips, amusement written on his face. “Sometimes the cheap stuff tastes better than that expensive fruit juice that you get.”
“I know my wines. You just have terrible taste.”
“I’m serious. You smell like you cuddled up to roadkill. The hell did you do, roll around in a cemetery?”
“I uh, just got back from a crime scene actually.”
“Sorry, sounds like shit. Who’s this?” Logan nodded behind you.
“Oh! Dad, you remember Yelena Belova.”
“Hi Y/n’s dad.” Yelena waved shyly before stuffing her hands in her pockets.
“Nice to meet you.” Logan gave her a polite nod before studying the features of your face. “Hey, you don’t look too good.”
“Huh? Yeah, I uh, haven’t been getting much sleep lately.”
“Something to do with your job huh. How’s the investigations?”
“Good. I mean, not good obviously because people are dead. But we have some leads and hopefully we’ll have the suspects apprehended before tomorrow.”
“Sounds like you need a vacation.”
“Bad guys don’t rest so neither do I.” You sighed, pushing back a strand of your loose hair before bending over to level yourself to your little sister with a soft smile. “Hey there Laura. How’s it going?”
"Laura say hi to your sister.” Logan gave her a small nudge.
You maintained the strained smile on your face, trying your best to seem as friendly as possible. You were happy to see her no doubt the less, especially since you never had much time to spend with her due to your work schedule and her being in school, but the look she gave you told you otherwise. Laura face was stoic underneath her sunglasses, and it seemed as if there wasn’t a single thought nor regard towards you in her eyes as she walked straight pass you into your apartment before plopping down on the couch without a single word in your direction, even ignoring Yelena’s little hello.
“Yup.” You popped your lips before standing back up. “She definitely hates me.”
"She doesn’t hate you. She’s just shy.” Logan quirked a brow at your pessimism before handing you her little suitcase. “Here’s all her things.”
“I’m pretty sure her eyes are filled with a deep resentment towards me behind those little sunglasses of hers. It’s like I shit in her bowl of cereal or something. Good thing she’s not Scott’s kid or else I would’ve been fucking obliterated by now.” You scoffed as you took Laura’s suitcase from him and set it to the side.
“If she hated you, we’d know. Just give her time.” Logan sighed. “She was like that towards me when I first met her. And watch your language around her. Don’t need her learning from our bad habits.”
“I’m sorry,” you sassed, holding your finger up to make a point, “but didn’t I just hear you say the poop word like two times now.”
“Yeah well I’m doing my best.”
“Well the resemblance is uncanny I’ll give you that.” You sighed as you rested your hand on your hip and turned back to see Laura sitting there with a scowl on her face. “The scowl, the brooding, the whole fuck off attitude and even right down to the eyebrows. She is 100% you’re kid.”
“Yeah and so are you.” Logan scoffed. “You nearly broke my nose when you first saw me, remember? And you’ve got a hell of a colorful language.”
“Looks like I got it from you.”
"Guess I raised you right then.” Logan chuckled. “You know, the professor position is still open back at the school. You wouldn’t have to put up with this anymore and you could finally get some damn good rest.”
"No, I know. You’ve mentioned it to me before but I just…I can’t just leave you know. Those criminals are still out there, hurting other people, innocent people.”
“What you mean to say is those badge wearing bastards have you in a chokehold.”
“Yeah well I could’ve been locked up forever for the crimes I committed.”
“Yeah, crimes you had no control over doing. Don’t those brains of theirs know those Hydra and Red Room bastards had you wired up.”
“It doesn’t work like that dad. And besides, I volunteered for this job, thought it would do me good.”
“Yeah, it’s doing you good alright. You look the same from when I first rescued you from Hydra, sleep deprived.”
“Well this isn’t exactly an easy job.” You snarked as you tried to maintain your point. “I knew what I signed up for dad. And to be honest, putting those criminals behind bars is worth every goddamn minute.”
“I know, I get it. I just don’t want you to get caught up in the same mess like I was. You’re still young.”
“Well I wouldn’t really call myself young.” You scoffed.
“I know that. There’s still time you know, for you to move on with your life and find something that doesn’t involve all this.” Logan leaned on your doorframe with his arms crossed. “I was thinking we all can move down to Canada. Build a home by the lake like you always wanted where you, me, and Laura can live in, together, as a family. You can even have all the animals you want.”
"I know. With mom gone it’s just-” You sighed, staring down at your hands and picking at the skin on your fingers. “I just….feel like I haven’t done enough for all the things that I had done, ya know?”
“If you keep letting the past haunt you and trying so desperately to go down that path of redemption you’re gonna find yourself stuck in a hole you can’t get out of.”
"Well, what can I say. We’re Howletts, it’s what we do.”
“Yeah.” Logan let a low chuckle. “You know, you could always take up boxing, or mma, go fight in the ring, make more money than you do here.”
“What, like what you did?” You scoffed with an amused raise of your brow. “You fought underground dad.”
“Yeah so. I can be your trainer and we can nickname you Iron Fist.” Logan teased.
“I’m pretty sure that’s taken.” You laughed.
“It is? What kinda punk took that name huh. Bet his fists aren’t even made of Iron.”
“Yeah okay dad.” You rolled your eyes.
“I’m serious. The offer at the school is still open.”
“…………I’ll think about.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Atta girl.” Logan ruffled your hear with a chuckle much to your annoyance. “Well I’m about to head out now.”
“So soon?”
“Yeah. I gotta get on the road.”
“Well it was nice seeing ya dad.” You smiled.
“Nice seein ya too kid. Just remember to be careful, don’t want ya to loose sight of who you are.”
“I won’t.”
“And if ya got any problems, I’m a phone call away. I’m here if you need me kid.”
You put on your best smile, trying your best not to think of the dead girl and the picture of her pale and stone-like face. After finding the card with Laura’s name on it, this new fear had suddenly overcome you, a fear that had shook you to the core more than anything you had ever experienced. The last time you were this afraid, you were captured for the Black Widow program and Hydra, but this, this was something else. Now you were terrified for the life of someone else, someone you cared about, and the thought of your sister lying dead in those cold dark woods made your blood run cold. You didn’t know what this killer was capable of, but one thing was for certain, you would rather risk your own life than let that pathetic excuse of a human come close to your sister. Logan trusted you with Laura’s life, and you were going to keep that promise. But you couldn’t let your father know about what happened, and though the thought of it irked you, it was a good thing you were trained at a young age to lie. “Thanks dad. I appreciate it, really.”
“Love ya kid.” Logan gave you one last hug and a kiss at the top of your head before saying his goodbyes to Laura and leaving down the hallway.
You watched him disappear into the elevator with a frown on your face, your fists clenching at your side before closing the door and staring into the worried face of Yelena. “You should pack a few things for yourself.”
Yelena stared back at you with a darkened look, her eyes searching yours while the ends of her lips turned down at the ends. “Y/n, I’m worried about you.”
“I know, I know. But you have to trust me on this. Please Yelena.”
“I already lost Natasha.”
“I know, I get it Yelena. But you have to trust me.”
“……….Fine. Fine. yah okay. But if you don’t make it back I swear-”
“You’ll find me and kill me yourself, I get it.” You looked at the time, seeing that it was only 3. “You should get ready to go.”
“…..okay.” Yelena sighed with a small nod of her head before going off to pack her things.
You looked down at your sister who had not moved from her seat on the couch, her face unmoving as she flipped through the channels on your TV. Going to the kitchen, you opened up the freezer to grab a small carton of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and a spoon before sitting next to her on your couch. “Hey.”
Laura did not give a single response as she flipped through various channels before stopping on a channel that was playing Shrek.
“Good choice.” You glanced at the tv with a nod of approval. “I bought you ice cream btw. Little birdie told me you like Ben & Jerry’s Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream. And since dad is not one for knowing how to shop for groceries much, especially desserts, I bought you four of these so you can eat to your heart’s content.”
Laura looked at you sideways, glancing up at your face before eyeing the carton of ice cream in your hands.
“Go on, it’s all yours.” You handed her the carton and the spoon, smiling in relief as she finally took them from you after a moment of hesitation before opening the lid and popping a whole spoonful in her mouth.
“You know, Shrek is one of my favorite movies to watch. I can quote the whole movie from front to back, but don’t tell anyone I told you that.” You sat back with a smirk as you watched the movie with her for a bit until your phone began to ring in your pocket causing an annoyed sigh to escape your lips as you picked it up. “Hello?”
“Y/n?”
“Matt?” You scrunched your nose in confusion. Your irritated tone had caused Laura to side glance at you and listen in on the conversation to figure out what could have upset you. “The hell. You tryna give me a reason to block you?”
“Wha-no, no……..Is that….Shrek in the background?”
“Yeah. My sister is staying with me for a couple of months. The hell are you calling me for Murdock.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“Whatya need Matt?”
“I uh-might need your help.”
“Oh yeah?” you scoffed. “Seems like you’re asking an awful lot of favors from me lately.”
“I know…….I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m-urgh.” You heard him let out what sounded to be a pained groan on the other end.
“Jesus fucking christ. You’re hurt aren’t you.”
“…Yes.”
“And let me guess. You need me to come over to your place to patch you up because I definitely as hell ain’t letting your ass in my apartment.”
“………yes.”
“Christ’s sake Matt. Don’t you have any lady friends of yours that are nurses or doctors? In case you didn’t know the difference, I’m a psychiatrist, not a surgeon.”
“I know. But the nurse that I know is out of town and you’re the only other person that I trust.”
You let out a frustrated sigh, running your fingers through your hair before rubbing your temples. “……..Okay. Fine. I’ll head out right now.”
“Thanks y/n.”
“Don’t mention it.” You hung up before getting up from the couch and grabbing your keys from the counter.
“Were are you going?” Yelena questioned once she saw you searching for something.
“I gotta go uh….help an acquaintance. Would you happen to have a first aid kit by chance?”
“Yeah. I put it in your cabinet there. You don’t have one?”
“Well it’s not like a need one.” You scoffed as you opened up the wooden cabinet you had by the door and grabbed the first aid kit before throwing on your shoes. “Just make sure to keep an eye out yeah. And if anything happens, call Stephen, he’ can get here much quicker than I can. His number is on the paper I gave you.”
“I can handle myself.” Yelena raised her brow.
“I know you can. But you’re also human, and we don’t know anything about the possible threat. I’ll be back in about an hour and a half to two hours.”
You arrived at Matt’s apartment complex not long after, pulling your car up to the curb and letting the rumble of the engine run for a moment as you stared up at the the windows that belonged to his place. “God damn it Matt.” You cursed under your breath before getting out of your car and heading up to his place. You tapped your knuckles lightly on his door, hearing the sound of shuffling coming from inside until the door opened to reveal a rather disarranged looking Matt.
“Wow. You look like shit.”
“Thanks for the compliment.” Matt gave you an unamused smile before letting you inside.
“I see you’ve done absolutely nothing to cheer up your place. Dull as always.” You looked around with a distasteful look on your face as you swiped your finger on one of his tables to see dust coating your fingertip. “Yikes. This place could use a proper clean too. I wouldn’t be surprised if traces of the bubonic plague could be found here.”
“Haha very funny. You here to do an inspection?”
“Um, considering I have to be here, physically in this place of yours, yes. Now get your ass on the couch and take off your shirt.” You set your purse down on the table, opening it up to pull out the first aid kit before heading to the sink to wash your hands.
“How’s your sister Laura?” Matt called out from his spot on the couch.
Your breathing hitched just the faintest at the mention of her name, squeezing your eyes shut against the image of her name written across the card in large maroon letters. “She’s uh, she’s doing good. She hasn’t spoken a word to me but she’s good.”
“That’s good to hear. At least you get to spend some time with her.”
“Yeah.” You shook your head, banishing any thoughts related to the case and the event later tonight as to keep Matt from getting suspicious. “I have your file btw. I left some notes in there.”
“Wait, you’re done?” Matt blinked his eyes with a scrunch of his nose before turning his head towards where you stood by the sink. He was surprised that you had already gone through the file and made up a conclusion, especially since he had handed it to you this morning. “That was fast.”
“What can I say.” You let your hands dry off before walking over to where Matt sat on the couch. “I’m good at what I do.”
“Which is why I asked for your help.”
“Oh yeah?” You raised a brow as you slipped on a fresh pair of latex gloves. “Is that also why you called me here now instead of I don’t know, contacting someone else like Foggy.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”
You scoffed at his statement with a shake of your head, trying to keep down the blush that started to spread through your cheeks and thankful for the fact that Matt couldn’t see it. “And how many other girls have you said that to? 5? 10?”
“Ahah.” Matt let out a soft chuckle. “Well maybe one.”
“Oh? So just one?”
“Okay, so maybe 2 others.”
“2 meaning 3 or 4.” You teased as you sat yourself down on his coffee table to start on his wounds only to let out a hiss at the sight of him. Large bruises and deep gashes lined his torso, painting a picture of grisly along with a cut that went down his forehead, stopping right below his temple. “Jesus Matt.”
“Judging from the tone of your voice, I don’t look too good.”
“Yeah no shit Sherlock. The hell happened? You get into a fight with Freddy Kreuger?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
“You guess?”
“Well the guy was pretty huge…..and he had a sword.”
“A big guy with a sword. Huh, sounds like Wade.”
“Who’s Wade?”
“This vigilante I ran into once. Likes to talk a lot, super annoying, but kinda funny. Did your guy crack any jokes?”
“Nah. No my guy was pretty quiet, spoke in short sentences.”
“Yeah that’s definitely not Wade.” You opened up the first aid kit and stared at the contents inside. “He would’ve shit at your little costume. Where is it anyways? Did you forget it at the dry cleaners for this fight?”
“I uh, need to get a new one.”
“Yeah. You do that.” You scoffed with a shake of your head. “So…..you see a big guy with a sword and you think it’s a good idea to tango with him. You know, for someone with a law degree from Columbia University, you sure as hell are an idiot.”
“So I’ve been told.” Matt chuckled.
Grabbing some cotton and disinfectant, you gently swabbed at his wounds, wiping off any excess blood and making sure to get rid of any possible traces of bacteria. You felt Matt’s muscles tense under your touch as he let out a hiss, looking up at his face to see his eyes shut in pain. “Hey…..you need some anesthetic for the pain?”
“Nah, I’m fine, thank you.”
You shook your head with a sigh, focusing on your less dominant hand and causing a small fire to be ignited from within your palms, the red tendrils weaving through your fingers as you held it up to your eye level.
“Wha-what are you doing?” Matt tilted his head after sensing the sudden change in temperature. He couldn’t help but feel apprehensive from the unnatural source of heat that sprouted from your hands, afraid that it might somehow spin out of control. After all, he wasn’t used to this sort of thing, especially not in person.
“I need to sterilize the needle before I start stitching up your wounds.” You muttered as you held the needle up to the flame, watching the point of the metal turn red. “And relax. I got it under control.”
“Thought you wouldn’t read my mind.”
“Well maybe try not to think so damn loud next time.” You smirked.
“I’ll uh, do my best, Doctor.”
You rolled your eyes at Matt’s comment before distinguishing the flame, letting the needle cool down for a bit before beginning to stich up his open wounds, causing Matt to wince each time the needle pierced his skin. “You know, you really gotta be careful next time.”
“Is that-don’t tell me you care about me Agent Howlett.” Matt gave you his signature smirk behind those glasses of his, the action causing your cheeks to heat up again while you only forced to keep your heart rate the same so that he wouldn’t notice.
“You know, considering that I’m the one with a needle in hand, I’d choose my next words wisely.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Well Matthew Michael Murdock, if that’s the case, I just might have to stab you.”
“Well what if I just like to get you riled up?”
You let out a scoff, his words catching you off guard. “You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone who gets their ass kicked all the time.”
“Ouch that hurt.” Matt feigned an insulted expression to which you let out a small laugh with a shake of your head.
“Keep talking. I’ve got plenty of insults.” You joked, straightening up a little to work on the cut on his forehead while Matt chuckled, smirking at the way you reacted.
There was a short silence between the two of you, the air around you returning to it’s serious atmosphere while you worked on his last wound until you heard Matt’s voice speak up again.
“Does it hurt?”
“What?” You scrunched your nose.
“Your hands, when they come out.”
“……Every time.”
“How do you go through with it?”
“I just do. The same way you keep fighting despite being beat up.”
“What about the fire?”
“It did at first. Shit. It hurt like hell the first time because I didn’t know how to control it while it engulfed every inch of me, especially since my body kept trying to heal. But once I learned to harness it, control it, it didn’t cause anymore pain. Now it just feels like being wrapped in a warm blanket.”
“At least you won’t need a heater during the winter months.”
“Yeah. I guess not.” You laughed at his little joke, finding yourself gazing at him with a smile once you had finished up his last wound before clearing your throat. “You’re uh. You’re all done by the way.”
“Thanks for this y/n. Really.” Matt smiled at you. “It means a lot.”
“Yeah well…..couldn’t have you bleed out in your own apartment now could I?”
“No, I guess not.” Matt smirked before tilting his head towards you, bringing his hands up to caress your cheek while he did so.
You ever so slightly gasped at his touch, his thumb leaving trails of goosebumps in its path against your skin. “Matt.” You breathed out with your eyes fluttered closed. You wanted to pull away, terrified of what this would lead to and yet, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, tempted to be able to feel something for once. And though you tried so desperately to not let your feelings show, Matt knew the hold he had on you. But he also was aware of the hold you had on him, and it drove him over the edge. You found yourself reaching for him, your hand placing itself on his thigh to steady yourself while your breaths fanned each others faces.
“Y/n, about what happened before-”
“Oh shut up.” You cut him off before crashing your lips against his.
Matt sat frozen for a second, surprised by your movement before molding himself into your lips, his hands finding a way to your waist to pull you flush against him before resting a hand on the curve of your back. Matt moaned against your lips, craning his head out towards you with half shut eyes as you pulled away with a smirk at the sight of him being a mess beneath you while you placed your hand on his chest, pushing him down onto the couch before straddling his waist. Sliding your hand up to the bottom of his neck, you bent down to make out with him, your hand slowly making its way up against his skin before finally reaching the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Running your fingers through his hair, you dragged your nails down his scalp, biting his bottom lip as you did so before clutching his hair and pulling his head back, eliciting a grunt of arousal to escape from his parted flushed lips. Smirking, you placed your lips behind his ear, pressing kisses down his jaw and neck while his hands slid up your thighs to clutch at the soft flesh of your hips while you grinded down against him. Matt let out a groan, bringing his hand up to wrap around your neck before reconnecting his lips with yours.
The two of you were a panting mess, both of your heightened senses making the current moment much more intense than if you didn’t possess the abilities you had. Matt’s hands were warm against your body, leaving goosebumps wherever they went despite you being fully clothed. Yet yours were life fire against his, your body heat raising in temperature from the way you felt. You felt Matt’s hand slide away from your neck, his fingers tracing up your skin in patterns and making its way to your hair before stopping at the touch of ice cold metal meeting his fingertips. The action had felt like an electric shock running through your spine, the brief contact making you gasp in fear as you yanked yourself away, moving yourself off him and pushing yourself back towards the opposite end of the couch.
“Y/n?” Matt had sensed your emotion, noticing how your heart rate had sped up incredibly and the way you had flinched away from when his fingers came into contact with the strange metal device that was embedded into your skin right below the back of your head near the top curve of your neck. “You okay?” Matt asked, but you did not answer.
Your eyes were glossed over, your body trembling as various images flashed before your eyes. You saw yourself in an operating room, fully awake and conscious and strapped down onto the operating table while the sound of a drill filled your ears in piercing screeches before being overcome with the screams of your own as a sharp pain spread down your spine and through the back of your head.
“Y/n.” Matt’s voice called out to you in echoes muffled behind the shadows of your visions until the touch of his hands gently placing themselves at the sides of your face brought you back. Barely breaking out of your daze in an unstable snarl of fury, you knocked Matt down onto the ground, placing your body over him as your claws slipped out of your knuckles with their sharp points hovering right over where his head was.
“Y/n.” Matt breathed out, attempting to stay calm despite feeling the sharp metal just barely grazing against the skin on his forehead. Though he couldn’t see the expression on your face, nor the rage behind your eyes, something told him that he wouldn’t have been able to recognize you in this moment. “It’s me. It’s okay.”
You blinked back the tears that had formed in your eyes amidst the terrors of your visions, your brows knitted together at the situation unfurled while a choked whisper escaped your lips. “Matt?”
“Hey. It’s okay. It’s alright.”
“I-I.” You choked out as you unsheathed your claws before getting off him. “Matt, I-I’m so sorry.”
“Hey it’s okay. You’re safe.”
“I could’ve-I could’ve killed you. I could’ve-” You mumbled, staring at him with widened eyes filled with disbelief at the thought of how you were just seconds away from killing someone you cared about.
“It’s okay, I’m fine.” Matt scooted closer only for you to stop him.
“Don’t.”
“Y/n.”
“Stay back Matt.” You spoke in a firmer tone before running your hands through your hair. “Jesus fucking christ. I tried to kill you. Don’t you see that?”
“But you didn’t.”
“But I could have! What if I couldn’t have been stopped huh? What then?” You shook your head before getting up. “I need to go.”
“Were are you going?” Matt stood up with you.
“Home.”
“Y/n wait. Something’s been bothering you since I last saw you. What’s going on?”
“None of your concern Matt.” You clenched your jaw, avoiding his face as you gathered all your things. “I left your file on the desk.”
“Look, I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”
“Yeah well I don’t need you to keep me safe okay.” You snapped. “I can take bullets, you can’t. If anything you should be keeping yourself safe from me.”
“Y/n wait.” Matt called out for you, standing in the center of the room with concern written across his features. But you did not respond, nor did you turn back just once as you walked out of his apartment, your heart rate slowing down to it’s steady rhythm. Matt silently listened to the sound of your footsteps getting fainter and fainter the farther away you went, until the loud rumble of your car’s engine started up, echoing in the street followed the screeching of your tires as you drove off, farther and farther away until he could no longer hear whatever was left of you.
Matt Murdock x Mutant!Reader, Bucky x Mutant!Reader Part 5
A/N: Part 5 is here my lovelies! I hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated and let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list. Have a lovely day! ✨✨✨
Summary: Imagine being the daughter of Wolverine and an FBI agent. You used to be a part of Bucky’s past. A distant part of his past that he had forgotten over time, until one day, he sees your face shadowed behind the public eye, like an apparition, almost as if you didn’t exist. Confused over your existence and questioning whether what he saw was real, broken memories of you come flooding back to him, and Bucky finds himself scrambling to search for clues that would lead to who you are and why he feels as if he had seen you before. You on the other hand had moved on, starting a new life for yourself and even finding yourself working with a certain lawyer. After the horrors you faced, you wanted to leave your past behind you, eventually forgetting mostly everything that ever happened. That is until the former Winter Soldier brings those memories all back.
Warnings: language, angst, blood and violence. Trigger warning, this chapter involves descriptions of a crime scene: homicide and sexual assault against a minor, so please do not read this if you feel this may affect you. I will also input trigger warnings around the areas that this theme is mentioned.
You pulled up to the sight of the crime scene you were just called into after working on some files at the office during the morning, parking your car on the side of the road that led to a local hiking trail as the lights of the cop cars danced across your face in patterns of reds and blues. You remained in your seat for a moment, your knuckles turning white from gripping your wheel as you stared off into the distance, drowning out the sound of the police radios with deep and steady breaths as you tried to prepare yourself for what you might come across. You usually liked to keep yourself preoccupied, whether it was your work or other simple things like reading a book, it helped to distract you from whatever it was you needed to take your mind off of. But now that you didn’t have your head buried in files and reports, your thoughts began to drift off to what had happened earlier. Various speculations ran through your head as you tried to analyze the things Matt had said to you and why he had even done so in the first place. Perhaps you were overthinking it. Sure, Karen was an extremely attractive woman, and you found yourself feeling silly for even thinking of the idea as if Matt knew what she looked like. But it wasn’t so much that, it was the way she looked at him that made you doubt everything he told you. Maybe the things he said were just a ploy, one of his lawyer tactics to get you to get over the anger you had for him so that you would end up helping with his case. If there was one thing he was good at, it was his way with words. Matt almost always knew what to say and he could be persuasive at times. And if there was one thing you were good at, it was knowing whether he was being honest or just being full of bullshit. If only you could have deciphered which one if it weren’t for your emotions getting in the way.
Turning off your engine, you stepped out of your car, squinting your eyes against the glare of the sun and searching the faces of the officers nearby. After throwing on your sunglasses you spotted the familiar head of dark brown curls sticking out from behind a Buick. Upon spotting you, your partner Pedro who was leaning against his car, waved you over. “Gomez.” You walked over to him, giving him a short and polite smile.
“Afternoon y/l/n. You feeling better?”
“Yeah. So what have we got here?”
“They found a dead body about a mile off the trail.” Pedro told you before walking alongside you to the destination.
“Any witnesses?” You brought up, your eyes focused on the dirt and pieces of mud that started to coat the tops of your boots while keeping a lookout for anything that could be a piece of evidence as you trudged deeper into the thicket of trees.
“A park ranger. Said he heard something between the trees and went to check it out and that’s when he found the body.”
“And the suspect?”
“Fled the scene before anyone arrived.”
“Any identification of a vehicle?”
“As of yet, no.”
“What about the media? They haven’t heard about this yet have they?”
“No. I have a few officers stationed outside in specific areas to block off all possible access to the scene.
"Good. Not a word of this to the press. Not until we know what’s going on.”
“Got it.”
Some time had passed, though not much. The sun was still high in the sky, its rays shrouded by the dense leaves and branches of the trees that covered the grounds. The smell of pine, damp soil from the moisture left over by the morning fog, and the smell of sap leaking from the cracks of trunks filled the air as Pedro and you hiked off the trail and ventured deeper into the woods, following the two officers in front of you. When you began to approach the area of concern, there in the distance your ears picked up on the sound of people moving about, paired with the soft chatter of voices as they discussed important issues with each other that seemed to blend with the preferred quietness of some. You noticed how some of them were unsettled, their muscles stiff as they carried out their duties while the rest carried an air of composure and focus resulted by the years spent working in the field. The familiar dark blue uniforms of the police and the black windbreakers with the printed word “Forensics” in white block letters were seen moving about the area inside the yellow tape that went around the perimeter.
“Here we are.” Pedro commented as the two of you ducked under the tape while making sure to be extra cautious where you stepped. “Hey, before you go any further,” Pedro stopped you, his eyes searching the ground as he tried to find the right words to say. “this…..this one is different. It might…….upset you.”
***Trigger Warning Beginning***
You gave Pedro a puzzled look, searching the clouded look in the dark chestnut depths of his irises that were shadowed beneath his brows that were currently knitted together. Being mindful of his words, you turned your head in the direction on your left where the trees had formed a clearing, the sun shining some light onto the patch where most of the others were gathered. You had caught note of the faint smell while you were still a distance away, a smell that you could never get used to, the sharp and stinging smell of rot that burned the inside of your nose and made you want to hurl. You knew there would be a dead body before you even arrived at the scene. Having knowledge that a location had a dead body was one thing, seeing it was another. The thing when expecting corpses was that you never knew just what to expect.
Just a few feet away, towards the center, a few personnel of the forensics team were crouched near the ground with their cameras, their flashes going off in clicks and sparks of white as they snapped multiple shots involving different angles of the body that was there. It seemed as if time had slowed down as you moved closer to investigate, your feet were heavy, like someone had tied weights to them using iron chains that burned against the flesh on your ankles. You could feel the eyes of those around you, hear the heartbeats of the members of the crime scene unit as they took a quick look at your stone like face before stepping aside as you passed. You nearly gasped at the sight, feeling your heart stop in your chest and fall to your stomach as your eyes bore into the lifeless face of the girl that lied there, a child.
“My god.” You breathed out with a clenched jaw, the ends of your lips turned downwards as you struggled to get ahold of the image. The girl, of age 14 or 15, lied there unsettlingly amongst the patch of grass, her skin ghostly white and the curls of her blonde hair splayed out behind her. It looked almost as if she were sleeping, and the somewhat peaceful image that was displayed haunted you to the core because of the monstrosity that lurked behind it. She was placed on her back with her hands folded neatly above her stomach, holding a single lily between her thin fingers. She was dressed in this white georgette dress that stopped a bit above her knees, the white fabric hinting just the faintest shade of pink while flowers adorned her hair, an assortment of lilacs and daisies. One would think that after working in this field after a certain amount of time, you’d get used to seeing stuff like this. But no, it never got easier. If anything, you just didn’t vomit like you did the first time you saw one.
“There’s speculation this one might be tied to the other 3 girls that were found.” Pedro crossed his arms over his chest as he watched you get a closer look.
“The other three? You mean the other 3 girls that were found in rivers in Massachusetts and Rhode Island? I read the files.”
“What can you make of it?” Pedro asked as he pulled out a notepad and pen from his pocket, the tip of the pen hovering over the paper as he waited for your observations.
“The murder victim is female, age 14 or 15.” You stated, pulling up the fabric of your pants before crouching down to your knees while slipping on a clean pair of gloves, the dry texture of the latex sticking against your skin as you pulled it over your wrists. “This one is fresh, killed not too long ago unlike the others that were in the later stages of decomposition. I’d say the time of death was……7 hours and 16 minutes ago. There’s….some bruising on her wrists that look like rope marks, silk.”
“Silk?” Pedro quirked a brow. “How can you tell?”
“The imprint of fibers.” You pointed to her wrists.
“What else?”
“He had her locked up, tied her up to make sure she wouldn’t escape. But he didn’t starve her, no, she was well fed. It looks like the suspect put some makeup on her. Not a lot, just some blush on her cheeks and some lipstick. Her nails are clean. She was……..groomed well, there’s hardly any traces of dirt on her. She has………..” You gulped, your nails digging into your palms as you pressed the back of your knuckles against your mouth.
“What is it?”
“There’s uh, bruising………near her inner thighs and uh……….signs of sexual assault.” Your voice came out in a broken whisper. “…………Have the forensics found any traces of semen?”
“None.”
“He made sure to wash her up. Fucking bastard piece of shit.”
“Hey.” You felt Pedro’s hand on the back of your shoulder. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Can we please move further?”
“……….What do you call the cause of death?”
“There’s no severe signs of strangulation or physical trauma.” You sniffed over her body with twisted lips, using your senses to pick up on any certain smells that could be a clue before recoiling from the acidic scent that burned through your nostrils, making you cough as a result. “Nightshade poisoning from ingestion. Hang on………..she’s wearing perfume.”
“Perfume? Any idea what brand?”
“………..Eleganter Schwan 06.”
“Say what?”
“Wait…….there’s more.” You stopped him, closing your eyes and breathing in the air. “There’s……leftover traces of cologne…………Clive Christian’s Original Collection.”
“You think the suspect was wearing it?”
“Positive.”
“How did you know what brands they are?” Pedro looked intently in surprise at the side of your face, watching the way your eyes darted around as you started to put everything together.
“I was studying abroad in France the summer of my sophomore year in uni and the place I was staying at was right next to a perfume shop. I used to have this little routine where everyday after class I would stop by the shop and test out the little sample bottles, a new perfume each day until I found the one I liked.”
“Makes sense, so what’s your analysis?”
“The suspect is a male, early 40s. He’s careful, made sure to leave no witness or any pieces of evidence that could lead back to him. But this,” you pointed towards the girl. It’s like he wants to show off, like he wanted us to find her.”
“Why the hell would he want us to find her?”
“To show off. If he wanted to hide her he could’ve hid her or dumped her in the river like the rest but no. The bastard wanted to show off his twisted sense of sentiment, which explains the elaborateness. He’s also wealthy.”
“Wealthy? What makes you say that?”
“The perfume and the cologne. They’re priced at about half a thousand each. The dress is Armani which is close to a thousand dollars.”
“Jesus. Who the hell would spend so much on someone they’re about to kill?”
“Someone with a lot of money to spare.”
“What else can you make out?”
“Whoever did this……this man, sounds disgusting but I think he loved her.”
“People don’t exactly kill the ones they love.”
“Which is why he did all this, it’s……..his way of honoring her death.” You gestured to the flowers. “You see, he thought he loved her, most likely has a twisted idea of what love is. But no, this man was obsessed with her, obsessed with her innocence, which explains the color of her dress and the flowers, they represent innocence and purity. His obsession with her also explains why he fixed her up like this. See those faint markings on her throat?” You pointed to the barely noticeable purple markings that lined her throat. “He tried to strangle her, but didn’t have the heart to finish the job. He also could have stabbed her or shot her, but that would have ruined her….image, so he poisoned her. I have a feeling this was his first planned target. Probably saw her somewhere in public when she caught his eye, maybe walking home from school? But he didn’t want to get to her yet so he killed the other three to satisfy his impulses. He took care of her, in his own sick way. Made sure to use soft ropes that are somewhat gentle on the skin, fed her and dressed her, and adorned her with flowers as if she was some kind of taxidermy that needed to be prepped and displayed.”
***Trigger Warning Ends Here***
“That’s one hell of an analysis Special Agent y/l/n.” You heard someone behind you speak up.
“Sir.” You stood up, turning around to your boss, the special agent in charge of your unit, Jack Morgan. He was a tall, thin man of age 50 with scattered gray hairs that lined the ash blondes of his hair. A pair of clubmaster glasses sat on the hook of his nose, the bottom rims of the frame somehow disguising the dark circles that sat under his hollow eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
“No worries.” He waved you off with a polite smile sitting on his thin lips. “Any clue that might lead to identifying the suspect?“
"Not yet sir.” You shook your head. “I’m working on it. But I feel close.”
"Well. We better get this bastard in handcuffs fast before he does it again.” Jack nodded with his hands in his pockets before walking off to speak to one of the deputies. “Let me know if you find anything y/l/n.”
“Of course sir. I’ll let you know.”
“So what now?” Pedro turned towards you as the two of you walked away for a moment.
“I’ll look into the surrounding buildings near the school she went to including the ones around her home, see if there is a possibility he lives in one of them, or at least visits them and etc. I’ll also check into the local perfume retailers, see which ones carry the brands I mentioned and get a list of who had bought them. We also need to keep a lookout on any gardens in the area. He mostly likely has a garden set up specially for his poisonous plants.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see what I can find too.” Pedro nodded before noticing the distant look into your eyes. "You okay? I know this case mustn’t have been easy for you.”
“It’s just…..a lot to take in you know.” Your shoved your hands into your pockets as you kicked the dirt at your feet. Your voice had a slight tremble in it as a shiver ran through your body. You couldn’t tell if it was the cold breeze or the crime scene itself that wanted to make you curl into your blanket and hide. But, you were also beyond furious, disgusted, and even scared, scared of what this asshole of a man was capable of. You couldn’t even seem to get yourself to stay still. Your hands and legs were itching to throw on a pair of mma gloves and go to the nearest martial arts club and go full force on a punching bag, kicks and jabs and all, maybe even throw the damn thing though the wall. Better yet, you wanted to find the fucking bastard that did this, maybe even beat his face in a little, use him as your punching bag before locking him up. But more than anything you were furious with yourself, upset that you weren’t able to find out who this sick fuck was.
“You think you’re able to…..you know.” Pedro nodded towards the corpse of the girl. Him and your boss were the only other people, or non-mutants rather, that knew about your past and what you could do, after all, it was Charles who had recommended you to them. After you were pardoned, they needed to know just who was coming in to work for them.
“I don’t know.” You faltered. “I’ve done it before with living people, but this, this is different. I’m a telepath, not a necromancer.”
“She was killed recently.” He noted as he followed the doubtful look in your eye. “Maybe there’s a chance some remnants of her……energy or…soul is left.”
You stared into the face of the girl for some time, your lips pursed in thought at the paleness of her face that was probably once radiant and full of life, now cold and lifeless and never again given the chance to do the things that most children her age will be given the chance to experience. Everything was stolen from her. You couldn’t imagine what the parents must be going through, to hear that their little girl was lying dead somewhere due to the hands of some murderous bastard serial killer. “…………I can try. See if it works. I just………don’t know if I’m ready for what I might see.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t to.”
***Trigger Warning begins here***
“No. Whether I want to or not is not important. But this,” you pointed towards the girl. “This is important. I need to be up close though in order to see if I can pick up on something.” You walked back over to the girl’s body once the forensics team had left, crouching down on the ground where she lay while Pedro kept a lookout for you to make sure no one noticed. You breathed in a heavy sigh, taking a few reps of deep and heavy puffs of air to prepare yourself for whatever horrors you might face before closing your eyes and hovering your gloved hand over her head. Your mother had the gift of sight, just like you, and she too was able to read the thoughts of those around her. But the visions she received were different than yours, she was able to see ahead into the further, of events that have yet to come. You tried to hone in on the advice Charles had taught you. Being a telepath himself, he was able to help you with a few things in order to harness your power, like reaching out for something that had meaning, something that invoked a strong sense of emotion in you. So you followed his steps.
At first there was nothing, just the sounds that were present to the mortal ear; like the gentle breeze that whispered through the leaves of trees, the sound of footsteps against the patches of grass and dirt and mud, the chirping of birds perched in the branches of the trees around you, and the few uttering of voices discussing a mixture of the mundane and subjects related to the case. There was a certain stillness in the nature around you that one would have thought to be peaceful had they not seen the corpse that laid amongst the grass, and the feeling of it twisted your stomach in words you could not explain. It was too sunny for a day such as this.
With another deep breath, you started to zone out your surroundings, cutting out the voices and the sounds of nature until you could hear the sound of everyone’s heartbeats, and then finally their thoughts. In the beginning, it was chaos. You winced against the many voiceless words that belonged to the minds of those around you, each one thinking of something different than the other. Step by step, you cut them out, focusing instead on the mind of the lifeless body of the girl that laid in front of you. You struggled, straining to see anything, hear anything, but there was nothing, just emptiness. Yet you pushed on, desperate to find something. Your brows were knit together at the center of your forehead from your effort, the strain you were inflicting on yourself causing a vein to pop out at your temple.
And then there it was, faint, and hidden in the depths of something beyond the physical, like looking at a screen or a mirage far off in the distance. So you reached towards it, focused all your strength on that faraway image. And then it hit you like a bus. You were engulfed with screams, screams that belonged to the little girl that completely enveloped you and pierced your ears. It felt as if these invisible iron chains had wrapped around you, pulling you closer into the depths of her mind. And that is when the nature of your surroundings had vanished and you found yourself looking through her eyes. There was this room, but all you could see was the ceiling, a white tiled ceiling with designs molded into each panel and a chandelier hanging from the center. Your arms and legs were tied, constricting you of any moment on what felt like a bed beneath you. A dark shadow moved from the side of the room, and that’s when you saw him, a face of a man hovering over you, the angle of the light casting a shadow on his face that made him resemble a demon with a sickening smile that stretched from ear to ear.
***Trigger Warning ends here***
You awoke from the vision with a start, your heart pounding and your forehead beaded with sweat as you struggled to breath, choking on the air in your lungs. You felt a warm liquid run down from your nose, the taste of copper filling your lips as a sickening sensation suddenly overcame you.
“Y/n?” You heard Pedro’s voice, muffled against the ringing in your ears as if a loud explosion had damaged them. You struggled up to your feet, the world around you spinning as you swayed with each step. You heard his voice call out for you again, but all you could focus on was your vision becoming more blurry by the second with each step you took as you tried to exit the area. After pushing past the yellow tape, you held onto the tree next to you for support, the throbbing in your head getting more powerful by the second. With a cold ice-like sensation washing over you, you doubled over and vomited onto the dirt in front of you before collapsing to the ground, your vision becoming black as you lost all consciousness.
When you had awoken, you found Pedro crouched next to you, his eyes trained on your face as he pressed a cold washcloth against your forehead.
“Ugh….” You groaned, shifting your body to notice that Pedro had sat you up against the tree. “Did I pass out? And please tell me I didn’t fall on my puke.”
“You were unconscious for a good two minutes. And no, you didn’t fall on your puke. You okay?”
“I don’t know. I got dizzy all of a sudden.”
“……….You saw something didn’t you?” Pedro had stopped, lowering the washcloth down to his side as his eyes searched yours, both out of concern and out of curiosity.
You stared at him for a moment with a solemn expression, the pain you had experienced through the girl visible in your eyes. “……….She was in so much pain.” You choked out. You wanted to cry, to scream, anything to make all that you felt go away. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t so much as shed a tear or else you would risk being taken off the case for involving too much emotion.
“…………What about the suspect?”
You looked away for a moment, recounting the things you had seen. “I……I couldn’t see his face. The room was dark. She was in so much pain Pedro.” You lied. Lied about not having seen his face. You had seen every detail of that bastard’s face, and it was everything you needed. You knew what you had to do.
Pedro nodded his head in understanding before listening quietly at what you had told him about what the girl had been through, his jaw clenched in anger. He felt guilty for making you preform such a task, believing that he had endangered you in some way. “I shouldn’t have put you through that.”
“No Pedro, it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I agreed to do it. It was to help with the investigation, to help catch this sick bastard remember?”
“You should go home.” Pedro gave you a regretful smile. “Get some rest. You look like shit after that.”
“You’re telling me.” You gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before getting up with a grunt as he helped support you up.
“Need me to walk you back to your car?”
“Nah. I’m fine. Thank you though Pedro.” You went back to your car, giving Pedro a wave as you went while he watched you go with a look of worry written across his dark olive skin. Something was off about you, and he had a gut feeling that you had not told him the whole truth regarding the vision you had.
When you returned back to your parked car, you took out your keys and unlocked the door, opening it up to get into the driver’s seat until a small piece of paper caught your eye, falling down right beside your feet. You stared suspiciously down at the dark gray rectangular piece of cardstock that looked to be a business card, seeing no print or writing on the side that was currently facing up. “What in the?” You muttered out, taking a quick glance around before dropping down to pick it up. The card was thick and smooth, of a matte finish, and felt heavy in your hands as you brought it up to your face. Small ridges lined the surface as you ran your thumb across the texture. Something about this card seemed off, causing the world around you to feel cloudy as an unnatural feeling started to form in the pit of your stomach. With trembling hands, you turned the card around to see a five letter word hand written across in maroon ink. A name. Laura.
A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF FINALS!
WARNING: SMUT, MATURE LANGUAGE, 18+
“A new recruit is starting today… Remember to play nice Steve” Tony told Steve in a teasing matter, as Steve ducked out of the boxing ring.
Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Tony’s teasing behavior, as sweat began rolling down his forehead.
“What’s his name again?” Steve said, taking a swig out of his water bottle, the cold liquid helping cool him down. He worked out a lot, mostly on the days when you were most busy with your administrative duties as well as your training.
“It’s James… Top of his class, the only one who showed some true Avenger material.” Tony said, the snarky tone clinging onto his words. He was never one for training or dealing with the new recruits. The last recruit accidentally burned down Tony’s lab because he was messing with some experiments instead of just listening.
Steve just smiled at Tony before heading out of the gym for a quick shower, he was always one for meeting the new kids and making sure they felt at home. But he didn’t like the ego that came along with the new recruits, as they think they already know everything.
He was drawn from his overwhelming thoughts by the sound of your laugh, he caught your gaze as you were walking towards him with Bucky close to your side.
The three of you were inseparable, you always had been since the moment they came into your world.
“Hey baby” you giggled, watching as his face lit up at the sound of your voice.
He couldn’t help but smile and tried to wrap his arms tightly around you, but you pushed him away causing an echoing laugh from Buck.
“No- you stink” you said to him, as you dodged his grasp once again. Your laugh echoing through the halls as you used Bucky as a shield between you and your boyfriend.
“I thought you loved me” Steve said, a frown crossing his features. Which only caused a small smile to cross your features as he pouted.
“I do love you… but I don’t wanna stink” you said, placing your hand on his cheek. Making a small smile appear on his face before he wrapped his arms around you.
Your protesting was bouncing off the walls as Steve continued to laugh as your loud protests. It was clear your small frame was no match for the super solider serum.
He gently placed you down, you swiftly punched him in the chest.
“I. don’t. like. to. be. picked. up. And now I stink…” you protested, the playful stomp of your foot making Steve and Bucky laugh.
He placed a swift kiss to your forehead, before beginning to walk away from you.
“Hey Solider” you said, loud enough that he would be able to hear.
He turned towards you, taking in your appearance. Your long hair flowing down your soldiers, your pants clinging to every curve, but your loose shirt leaving some to the imagination. But to him, you looked flawless.
“Take a shower” you said, scrunching your nose up as if to show that he smells.
“Yes Ma’am” he said, sending a swift wink in your direction before taking off down the hallway in a swift jog.
You stood patiently in the hanger, listening to Sam and Buck fight about dinner, but also hearing Wanda and Nat gossip about the new recruit and how cute he apparently is.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of someone standing behind you, you knew it was Steve.
“Hi baby” you whispered, carefully leaning back into his chest and feeling his gently chuckle.
“You smell stinky, you know?” he said, causing a gasp to erupt from your throat as you turned to face him.
“Steven Rogers” you threatened, trying to sniff yourself. But all you could catch was the scent of your lavender vanilla shampoo. There were no remnants of Steve’s body odor from his early morning workout.
All Steve could do was laugh at your behavior, but you were glaring knives into his soul.
Your comeback was cut off when Fury’s booming voice overtook the training room, drawing everyone’s attention from their gossip.
“Well, it’s nice to have everyone’s attention… I’ll make this quick” Fury started as him and Hill entered the room with a young recruit hot on their heels.
You leaned into Steve, as you all lined up to welcome the new recruit.
The new recruit was definitely cute, but not your type. He was on the shorter side of things, with dark almost black hair, with a leaner body.
You tended to go for the scruffier kind, and you definitely had a thing for blondes. But your type was definitely Steve and no one else.
You leaned over to Nat’s ear, “He’s definitely your type girl.” Which only caused the both of you to fall into a fit of laughter.
“So, this is the team” Fury’s voice boomed again, sending an unapproving look to Nat and you.
“Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers here are going to get you started and introduce you to everyone before your first training here at the compound.” Fury said, sticking his hand out to shake the new recruits.
“Thank you, Mr. Fury, Ms. Hill” The new recruit said, before turning to Steve and Tony. You could almost see him quiver in excitement over this new position.
“Hi, I’m James… It’s a pleasure” He said before sticking his hand out to Tony, and then to Steve.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the welcoming, “it’s a pleasure” – the recruits literally never say anything different.
“They always say that” Bucky said, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you roll your eyes once again.
You stifled a laugh as the new recruit approached Buck, the clear nervousness was being to cross his features even more.
“This is Sargent Barnes” Steve said as he gestured to Buck, the smirk on his face was clearer as James shook his hand with what seemed like a decent grip.
You weren’t completely paying attention because you were watching Steve as he kept clenching his jaw every time James opened his mouth to speak.
Seeing as you were too busy watching Steve, you missed that James had moved to right in front of you.
Nat carefully nudged you, drawing you from your trance which only caused a blush to erupt onto your features.
“Oh hi… I’m sorry. I’m Agent L/N” you said carefully extending your hand.
He took in a deep breath before taking your hand, shaking it gently. He continued to shake you hand for a few seconds too long.
Pulling your hand away, you wiped your palm on your pants, “Pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine” James said, sending you a quick wink before being shoved by Steve to move on.
Focusing on Steve once again, you could see that his jaw was clenched worse than before. His eyes were a darkened color instead of his normal baby blues. You could see the shift in his appearance in a heartbeat.
But Steve could see the shift in you too, the way the blush crossed your cheeks when James stood in front of you. The way your leggings gripped your thighs, accentuating all of your best features, the way that he knew that James was watching how your body moved. James was looking at you in the way that Steve looked at you the first time and still continues too. The idea of James dreaming about you, was something that he couldn’t stand. Steve couldn’t stand that James was being introduced to an entire team and all this recruit kept doing was looking back at you as you smiled and laughed. So, he kept quiet, just trying to push his thoughts out of his mind.
But he knew deep down that you had an overwhelming effect on people and that was a huge part of who you are. It was the one thing that he loved the most about you, how real you were with everyone.
You were so caught up in talking to Nat and Wanda, you had no idea of the attraction that James was beginning to feel towards you. You never looked at anyone the way you looked at Steve, and that was never going to change but it was more than clear that James didn’t catch the obvious relationship in the room.
“Okay let’s start with some training exercises, we wanna see what you are capable of here.” Tony said as he looked around the room for a participant, but no one was listening.
“Are you ready to start?” Steve said, watching James’ gaze fall onto you once again. Your head was thrown back laughing as you talked with Wanda.
Steve stepped in his eye line with his gaze hard and cold, “I asked you a question, recruit.”
James took a deep gulp, “I’m sorry Captain, yes I’m ready.”
“So, here’s the plan, we are going to do some basic sparring exercises just to see where your training will take you. The whole point is to see what your skill base is and where we can expand your combat training for future missions” Tony said, drawing James’ gaze from your figure.
“Okay, sounds good sir” James said, taking a deep gulp.
“L/N” Tony barked catching your attention from Nat’s excessive gossiping about Buck and the girl from the third floor.
Your eyes went wide as you turned your frame, “Yes Mr. Stark.”
“You are gonna be up first for the training since you have some other things to do before our welcoming dinner tonight” He said, you quickly nodded your head before stepping into the ring with James. He sent you a quick wink, but of course you thought nothing of it.
“Ready?” you teased as James took a deep gulp before nodding towards you.
A smile erupted on your face before running towards him attempting to strike him with your fist. He quickly blocked before attempting to throw his own punch.
You smiled as you quickly dodged his punch, you both continuously threw punching and kicks to throw each other off your game. It was clear that his training was well rounded, but you were trained by Nat and Steve, so you had just as much training as well as in depth skills.
Catching Steve’s eye off the mat, you winked before sweeping your leg under James’ feet sending him down to the mat. The sound of him hitting the mat echoed through the training area.
That’s my girl, Steve thought as he glared hard at James.
He smiled up at you as he laid there, you reached your hand out to help him up.
He placed a swift kiss to your cheek as you backed away from him. You were flattered but you knew Steve was going to mad at the interaction. He loved you so deeply, and the idea of losing you was the hardest idea to face and that was vice versa for you.
Turning off the mat, you caught Steve’s gaze and his jaw was clenched causing the vein in his neck to bulge. You could see the anger and frustration crossing over his features.
You smiled at him as you returned to your spot between Nat and Bucky.
“Oh, someone is jealous” Nat said, nudging your shoulder.
“No, he’s not, he’s fine” You insisted, trying to figure out the true reason that Steve looked so angry.
“Yeah okay… James is flirting with you. Of course, he’s angry” she said, watching your lips form a frown as you tried to think about the last hour.
“No, he’s not, it is more than clear than I’m with Steve” you said, insisting that what Nat is seeing is clearly just a misunderstanding.
“Yeah okay… you say so” she said, a soft laugh coming off her words.
You began to think about the last hour, the wink, the overly kind words, the way he wanted to impress you… No, he had to have just been being nice since it’s his first day.
“Cap, you are up next” Tony barked, the clear annoyance crossing his features. New recruits were something that he always hated especially since we are so close together.
You watched as Steve stepped onto the mat, the clear jealously falling onto his features as he watched James.
His eyes caught yours, you sent him a quick wink before he turned back to James.
You watched carefully as James took a step towards Steve, sending a solid punch towards his upper body. Steve smiled as he carefully dodged the punch before sending his own punch at James. His fist connecting with his jaw, the sound of James’ body hitting the mat echoed through the room.
Steve went and stepped over James, as he clenched his jaw.
“Steve, off the mat” Tony said, approaching the recruit.
He couldn’t help but send a smile towards you as he made his way off the mat. The clear amusement was dancing off his features.
“Oh, you know that felt good” Bucky said next to you, laughing at James still laying on the mat.
“Don’t encourage it” you hissed, knowing good and well this recruit was in need of some improvement hands down.
The rest of the day seemed to rush by with the busyness of training as well as your double duties as administrator for Stark.
The welcoming dinner Stark planned was closer than you had wished, James sadly beat Steve to the dinner table making sure that he took the spot right next to you. You gave Steve a weak smile, knowing this was going to be a conversation for the both of you tonight.
The dinner table was filled with chattering between the team as James kept trying to catch your attention.
You rolled your eyes before turning to him, “so how was the first day?”
“It was amazing” he started, “thank to you.”
You shifted in your seat uncomfortably knowing that Steve was glaring from across the table. Your suspicions were confirmed with you felt his thick leg sliding in between your leg as a sense of comfort. Steve’s heart fluttered as you smiled at him, you saw him for him not the man he has become due to the serum.
“So how long have you been with SHIELD” James said, trying to draw your attention from Steve.
‘Why don’t you ask Steve, I feel very old answering that question” You said, shooting a look at Steve for backup as you were getting uncomfortable.
The conversations continued on into the night, filled with laughter and never-ending jokes. Steve wasn’t the only one watching you, James had a hard time taking his eyes off you and it was clear.
You were telling the story about the time you and Natasha went on a mission, and she accidentally sprayed herself in the face with one of those fancy Japanese toilets. Instead of helping on that mission, you laughed the entire time and could barely focus on what Stark had wanted done.
Steve couldn’t help but smile at your overwhelming laughter as you and Nat continued to tell funny stories about the team.
The laughter ceased though when James very kindly dumped his full glass of wine in your laugh, covering your white satin dress.
“Oh my god” you stood up quickly, trying to escape the dark liquid.
“I am so so sorry, shit” James said, just staring at the mess he had made, while Nat was running back to the table with tons of napkins.
You quickly tried to clean the mess that had been created, but with that happening your cleavage was on full display not only to your lover but to James who could not or would not stop staring at you.
Steve couldn’t help but bit his lip yet tighten his fists as he watched this pathetic excuse of a recruit who insisted on checking out his love.
“Well, I am just going to shower” You laughed gently as you stepped away from the table. The dark stain not only on your dress but surrounding your chair on Tony’s white carpet. “This just isn’t going to come out.”
James stood up as you backed away from the table, “Do you need help?”
Your eyes went wide, as gasps filled the dining room, “Excuse me?” you said, shocked.
“WITH SHOWERING?!?” Steve yelled, his chair quickly clattering to the floor. The anger clearly crossing his features.
“Cap, take a walk” Tony said, his tone stern but the amusement was clear on his face.
Steve quickly walked out of the dining room, hastily walking to your shared living quarters in the compound.
The door slid open, and he could see your white dress thrown to the side with the stain more than clear against the light fabric.
He couldn’t help but sigh at the mess.
He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, laying in on the bed before he heard your soft voice coming from the shower. You were singing along to your phone,
You’ll know him when you see him
By the way he looks at me
You’d say he hung the moon
I’d say he hung the galaxy
Nobody does it better
Oh, the way he pulls me in
I’ve known a couple bad ones
But they all led me to him
He’s one of the good ones
He smiled as your voice led him to the shower, he could see your dancing as the suds covered your body.
The shower curtain flung open, causing you to jump at the sight of him, “Jesus Steve, you trying to scare me to death?”
He just chuckled as he stepped closer to you, bringing your back into his chest.
“Can I help you?” you chuckled as you turned around to face him, causing a smile to appear onto your face when you made eye contact with him.
He didn’t answer you instead grabbing the back of you neck, bringing your lips to his causing a soft moan to fall from your lips.
“You are mine” he gritted through his teeth as he pushed you into the wall, you body shuttering from the cold tile.
His free hand ran over your thighs, coming closer to your soaking, pulsating heat. Carefully pushing your thighs apart finding your sensitive nub.
You shuttered as he carefully pushed on your nub, the pleasure starting to overcome your senses. You loved that he wanted to be all over you, that he wanted to be in control.
His lips came into contact with your neck, quickly finding your sweet spot causing you to melt into him. His fingers moved from your sensitive nub, pulling you closer to him causing soft moans to fall from your lips.
He smiled down at you before moving his fingers into your pussy, quickening the speed causing your eyes to roll back into your head. The pleasure becoming overwhelming as you squirmed in his grasp. You felt your orgasm coming over your senses, with Steve’s name falling off your lips you let yourself go.
“Fuck doll” he said, pressing a kiss to your earlobe before picking you up in his arms, the cold against your back once again causing you to shutter.
You felt his tip at your entrance, teasing you gently. You moaned at the contact before he entered you in one quick move, your moans echoing off the walls. Steve pulled you close as you wrapped your legs tight around his waist.
Steve’s lips fell onto your mouth, as he slammed into you repeatedly. The mixture of the cold tile, and Steve inside of you sent your body into overdrive. He quickly picked up his pace, causing your eyes to roll back into your head.
Your climax was fast approaching, and Steve could feel you beginning to tighten around him.
“Are you mine? Tell me baby” He groaned out as he continued to slam into you.
“Y-Y-Yo-Yours” you moaned loudly, as your climax overcame you. Steve could feel you pulsating around him which only caused him to lose it. He moaned as he filled you up with his hot seed, causing you to moan at the contact.
He gently placed you down, your legs wobbling at the contact as you leaned back into Steve’s chest causing him to chuckle at your actions.
“Let me get you cleaned up, and we can go back down” he said, picking up the washcloth and gently washing your bruised back.
The two of you walked into the living room, you were clad in Steve’s clothing and he was holding you close. It was more than clear that you were Steve’s, even though most of the team knew that already.
Steve led you over to an empty seat, pulling you gently into his lap which made a laugh slip past your lips. You leaned your head back into the crook of his neck, taking in his sweet scent that made your world spin.
You could feel Steve playing with your damp hair that fell down your back, which sent a smile onto your cheeks.
“Can we talk?” A weary voice said, causing the both of you to look up, seeing James and his terrified expression.
You carefully nodded, pulling Steve behind you into the hallway. You could see James trying to find his words even though he was focused on your body, but Steve found the right words first.
“I’m hoping you are going to apologize to her, and hope to god she is more forgiving than I’m going to be” Steve sneered at the new recruit, who had barely taken five seconds to not look at your ass.
The new recruit was trembling, you could see his face change as he shrunk into the shadow of one, Captain America. He was terrified of what this man was going to do to him.
“Yes Mr. Rogers” he trembled, releasing a deep breath.
Steve rolled his eyes, bending down to meet the new recruit’s terrified eyes.
“That’s Captain to you, recruit.”
Your soft laugh echoed through the hallway as you watched the young boy cower away from your Captain. You knew you were solid in your relationship, so the flirting was nothing new, but it was great to see him jealous.
“Steve, you don’t have to be so tough on him… he’s new” you said, the humor in your voice was more than evident.
He stalked towards you, forgetting about the frightening recruit.
“No one messes with my girl” he said, as he wrapped his arms around your smaller frame.
“My girl…. I like the sound of that” you teased, a smile playing on your features. You held him close as you headed back into the living room to enjoy the rest of your night with your man.
OVERVIEW: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinishedbusiness, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.
NOTE:Reader will use the name Hollie Stark and female pronouns during or when referring to past events, but will be use (Y/n) (L/n) and gender neutral for current events.
If Only I Could Get To You First (Bucky Barnes One Shot)
Summary: Bucky Barnes and you have been best-friends, but unknowing to the other you both are also in love with the other. Though everyone else seems to know.
Pairing: Modern!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Modern AU, swearing, past domestic abuse (non descriptive), mutual pining, fake dating, confessions, best friends, angst, fluff, i just want to squish bucky into a hug, brock rumlow is a dick head, hurt/comfort, love confessions, crying, loving from afar
In the list of bad ideas your best friend compelled you into, only two ever worked out in your favour.
One was sneaking into your first high school party, you’d had your first kiss.
The second was when she pushed you onto the dance floor at the frat house’s halloween party and you bumped into the warlock.
“Woah, easy there.” He’d caught you with a charming grin and his blue eyes. Your lungs would not breathe till he would tell you too.
“Are you alright?” Those blue eyes to a once over, checking for any sign of injury.
“I’m—I’m so sorry, I lost my footing.” You look to the side to glare at your best friend but she is luckily not in your line of vision.
“Woah, doll, who is on the receiving end of that glare?” He wonders loudly over the music which somehow doesn’t bother you.
“My best friend pushed me.” You explain, sighing.
“We could work on a hex.” He offers, you let out a laugh, he’d interpreted your last minute outfit well enough, deep red turtle neck and skirt with a borrowed blonde wig.
“You’re the first person to know who am I.” You smile, he bows.
“The others are beneath our intellect. Do you want to move to the side?”
You nod, his hand finds yours and the night floats away.
“James Barnes, warlock for tonight. What is your name Sabrina Spellman?” He offers his name and then you give him yours.
Conversation flows on, in the little nook of the house.
Movies, TV Shows, a heavy argument about Professor Snape and Dumbledore and then academic choices.
Time went on numbers exchanged, as were memes.
Coffee tumblers refilled over hours every Wednesday.
Movie marathons, study dates, celebrating A pluses and even the occasional C minus.
Pranking his very unhygienic third roommate by placing cups of detergent all over his room and a few cups of water.
————————————————–
You had known his close friends called him Bucky, it was never defined across the months of your blooming friendship if you could call him that name.
Bucky wondered why you hadn’t yet, maybe you did not consider him as close as he presumed. He had no inclination to ask out of fear to ruin the friendship he found within you.
it changed one night, at three a.m. your phone vibrated near your head, you were still dressed in the day’s clothes. Work had been terrible, so you deserved a night off of regular activities.
Reaching for the angrily vibrating device your bleary vision widens, you pick up the call.
“James? Is everything okay?”
“Could I come over?” Is all he asked, sounding broken.
You answered with an instant yes, quickly changing into a jumper and a hoodie. waiting for him in the living room.
His knocks sounded hesitant, almost as if he were reconsidering his choices.
You’re greeted by a heartbreaking sight.
James Barnes, with his hair a tousled mess, eyes puffy and red. Your heart seizes with worry.
“Natalie and I broke it off. I well, Sam saw her out with Zemo. She did not even deny it. How could she do this to me, Firefly?” He even sounds broken, as your nickname falls from his lips.
He lets you pull him into your warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you, pulling your body close into his. He sighs deeply as he finds comfort.
The tears do brim anew, his shoulders shake.
“Bucky,” You hesitate, a hand stroking the back of his head. You guide him to the couch, retrieving your stash of ice cream and running back to him.
He gives a half hearted smile seeing the flavour, a shared favourite.
You give your own beaming grin of encouragement.
“Here is your mission choose you accept it.” You hand him a spoon. He chuckles slightly.
“To finish this entire pint of ice cream with me.”
The ice cream doesn’t stand a chance.
————————————————–
Bucky has good days and bad ones for three months after the break up, the timing awful between midterms and assignments but they served distraction.
To celebrate the end of the torturous examinations you both make your way around New York City. In search of 1 am pizza.
“How are you?” You know it is a question she could dodge but the way he seemed to carry himself slowly coming into his own had given you hope.
Bucky only stiffens for a moment at the question, progress you deem.
“Honestly I feel it was a good thing.” He takes a bite; the cheese pulls and he grins in approval. You take a picture of him as he makes a silly face, both laughing now.
“I might not date for a while but I know I will eventually.” He informs of the decision.
“That is good.” You pat his back, taking your own bite as he in turn takes a picture of you pulling a silly face.
Slowly your phone memory is filled with several outings with your now extended group of friends, and several more with Bucky. He returns back to himself after a few months more, after a few okay-ish dates and he finds himself seeking your company.
He grabs a bouquet of your favourite flowers, his legs need no guidance to the familiar path of your home. Bucky stands near the entrance as the doorman, Percy smiles at him with kind eyes.
“She’s gone out.” Percy tells him, therefore Bucky waits, leaning against the wall phone in his hand scrolling through the fresh batch of micro sized comedy he could send to you.
Familiar sounding laughter pulls him in, your bright face greets his view, then your fingers curl around an arm. He follows the touching limbs to see the face of Rumlow.
You seemed so radiant around the man. Bucky clutches the bouquet tighter as though in an attempt to ground himself or stop his heart from breaking before it could even be given to you.
Rumlow turns you before you can leave his embrace to go to your apartment. Your laughter carries through to Bucky. He watches, lips pressed into a thin line.
Rumlow pulls you close, whispering something your ear, you bite your lip nodding.
Bucky could hear his heart cracking over the noise around him, as your lips are upon that man’s own. He turns, walking away still clutching the bouquet.
Bucky Barnes and you — best friends through college. Maybe that shouldn’t change.
Bucky nods to himself, his feelings probably arose because of the time spent together and your friendship growing deeper. So he tucks this little crush upon you away, and decides that best friends is what you both are meant to be.
————————————————–
Seven months after graduation, Natasha nurses your busted lip. Vodka on the table is also for drinking she tells you. It soothes the ache from your broken heart and lip.
Your phone still unresponsive from the one person you need. How many texts does it take for a best friend to respond?
“I could call him.” Natasha offers as you shake your head.
“I, my texts should be enough, I left him calls as well.” You explain, “Could, could you ask Steve where is he?”
Natasha studies your face, she knows you’re hurt over Bucky not responding. Brock Rumlow was the furthest thing from your mind and heart.
“I will,” She promises and your phone rings, your best friend’s face flashing across the screen.
You take the call knowing the odd time difference between the two of you had her more on edge.
“Hey,” You greet.
“Don’t hey me, did you report him?” She all but yells.
“I don’t want to associate any further—,”
“Bullshit, you absolutely should report that piece of shit unless Barnes has murdered him already, so you cannot call the cops cause then he will be in jail.” She cuts you off.
“I don’t think he knows yet.” You admit, Natasha looks at you, quietly speaking to Steve and updating him about what occurred.
“What do you mean? Is he okay? Because Barnes would not let that asshat breathe. Hell I’m taking the next plane out of Melbourne.” Her nails on the keyboard resound.
“No, no, don’t! Just, okay, look Nat patched me up and she also said vodka’s good for the pain as well so I’m fine and he’s, he’s probably busy…” You defend Bucky, once again.
“Babe, he has been busy awful lot since he started dating that bimbo bitch.” She clicks her tongue, annoyed at the man.
“Look can we just, drop the whole thing, I, I think I need to sleep, and you need to get to work.” You remind her.
“Just leave me messages through the day alright and no memes or links coherent language only.” She warns you.
“Yes alright coherent language only.” You promise.
Nat comes by with a plate of food, placing it in front with a fork. You stare at the pasta for a minute.
“I called Steve, he got through, Bucky is out with her…” She trails off.
“Oh, did Steve say anything?” You hesitate to ask, Nat shakes her head.
“He knows you wouldn’t like her to know so he just made sure Bucky would check his messages.” She gnaws at her bottom lip struggling to say something.
“What?” You look at her.
“You should really report him, this wasn’t the first time was it?” She states you look down at your hands.
“No.” You close your eyes at the admission.
“How long have you kept things from us? From Bucky?” She places a gentle hand over your forearm.
“He, he was very particular, no where where anyone would know. Started two months ago. I tried breaking up after the first time but—,” Your vision blurs, the tears are harder to hold back.
“Do you want me to take pictures? I know we can file a case, or at least a restraining order…” Natasha tries to coax you to listen to her but you just shake you head.
“I can’t I don’t want more trouble, Nat. It’s over he’s gone. The fight was more about him shifting to L.A. and me not wanting to follow.”
“Are you in love with him still?”
“I never was, I just, I thought I could learn to love him and then he just tried to beat it into me…” You shudder in remembrance.
Natasha leaves the topic, knowing that it was difficult to walk away even let alone relive the ordeal.
It is four days later at the scheduled game night that you see Bucky, you don’t greet him.
He furrows his brow when you move away from the living room to the bathroom before he can take a good look at you.
“Where’s Rumlow?” He questions and the room turns silent.
“Did you not see her messages?” Steve crosses his arms.
“What messages?” Bucky retrieves his phone.
“Barnes, when did you last speak to her?” Nat questions then scoffs as Sharon wraps her arm around his wrist pushing the phone down.
“A few days ago, why?” He answers, running a hand along Sharon’s arm.
“Bucky.” She pouts.
“What is it baby?” He questions, being distracted from the conversation at hand by his girlfriend.
“Bucky you should go speak to Y/N.” Steve adds with a bit more seriousness.
“What happened, is she, is Firefly alright?” He looks up in worry.
“Ugh, she always wants your attention.” Sharon whispers loudly, “Does she not have her own boyfriend?”
“Don’t you have better things to do than cling to Bucky’s arm? Or is your default personality trait whiny girlfriend only?” Natasha uses the same tone as Sharon.
Sam covers up his laugh with a cough.
“Bucky.” Sharon whines again then moves away to go to the balcony sniffling and tears welling up.
“Crocodile tears.” Nat rolls her eyes.
“Nat.” Bucky gives an exasperated look, chasing behind Sharon to mend things.
“Steve, please let me punch him.” Nat pleads.
“You know she doesn’t want us to tell him, how has he not responded after the texts? We all got them.” Steve sighs taking another sip of his beer.
You return, wiping you eyes, for any stray tears or mascara.
“Whats got her in pain now?” You ask, a look of disdain taking over. You try not to stretch your lip as the sting from the cut still presents itself.
“Nat called her whiny.” Sam chuckles.
“Nat…” You sigh.
“What, it’s about time we call her out.” She shrugs.
“How are you holding up?” Sam questions, eyes on your busted lip.
“Eh, been better will be better soon I guess?” You shrug and wince as the pain in your shoulder blade presents itself.
“And now she’s making a face at me!” Sharon accuses you and then goes back to the balcony.
Bucky’s heavy sigh echoes through the room.
“Firefly, can you not? I know you all don’t like her much but I do okay? Christ some best friend you are,” Bucky turns back to once again console his girlfriend running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Some best friend?” Your cold tone makes Bucky turn to face you, a quip ready on his exhausted tongue, he doesn’t get to speak because he finally takes in your appearance.
The bags under your eyes, the redness housed within them, the busted lip you have and the slight wince as you take a deep breath.
“I’m going to kill him.” Bucky connects the dots in his mind.
“No need, these were days ago, I needed you and you were not there James.” You accuse, tears brimming once more.
“I, Steve said to see my texts but I had none from you… Steve why did you not say anything?”
“You could have called me. You, I left you voicemails, crying sobbing, asking for you. For your help. You weren’t there. They didn’t say anything because I wanted to tell you but then again, your time and devotion is pre-booked. Let me know when a slot opens up, I can summarise the whole thing in two minutes, the least I can do as some best friend.” You sneer, walking towards the door in no mood to stay any longer.
Bucky mechanically follows you,
“Firefly, I—, I swear I don’t have any messages, I’m not lying!”
“You could have called!” You accuse.
“I was out—,” Bucky tries to grasp your hand.
“Like I said, I know you’re too busy, for me.” You press the call button several times more waiting for the elevator to come up faster.
“That is no excuse, I’m so sorry, I just, please stay, we can talk.” His hand reaches to grab your shoulder. A painful sound escapes you and you flinch away from him.
“Where else did he hurt you?” Bucky’s tone holds no emotion, you look up at his face, the stoic expression masks his feelings but the anger in his blue eyes is reaching its summit.
Your eyes shift to the elevator when it dings to signal the opening of the doors.
“You aren’t leaving.” Bucky informs you.
“I do not want to talk about this.” You tell him, feeling like your heart might break again.
“I do. I need to know what did he do, because he won’t be breathing after I’m done with him.”
“It doesn’t work that way.” Your eyes shift to Sharon who rolls her eyes at you, then puts on a pout when Bucky turns to look at her.
“Bucky,” “Not now Sharon.”
Bucky turns back, but you’re inside the elevator. He steps ahead to join you, the doors begin closing his fingertips just graze the border where the sensors would have the automatic doors reopen.
He’s pulled back by his arm by Sharon, you look down. Heart breaking again, that you can’t even be prioritised by your best friend. He won’t even fight for you.
Bucky catches the quiet sob that escapes past your lips at wrapping itself around his heart squeezing upon it.
“Do you have any semblance that someone else could have bigger problems that you?” Bucky looks at Sharon, taking his arm out of hers.
“Baby,” She begins her fake tears again.
“God, not with this again. Sharon, seriously please.” Bucky groans in frustration.
“You want to spend all your time with that stupid bitch.” She complains as Bucky turns to press the elevators if he is fast enough he can catch up to you.
“She’s my best friend. She needs me.” Bucky glares at Sharon.
“No, she does not she managed to find help elsewhere four days ago, she just wants your attention.”
“What the fuck did you say?” Natasha verbalises the question brewing within Bucky.
“I-, no I said nothing! Nothing!” The blonde stutters in defence.
“Oh I’m going to smack this fucking bitch—,” Nat is pulled back by Steve.
“Did you delete Firefly’s messages and voicemails?” Bucky’s voice is low and cold, almost similar to what yours was towards him.
“I—, no,” Sharon gulps audibly, sweat breaking across her forehead.
“You have one more chance, did you fucking delete messages my best friend left for me, at a time she needed me?” Bucky’s hands form fists. Sharon had kept asking to take pictures on his phone, then sending herself the ones she liked thats when she must have deleted all of your communication to him.
“Bucky, it’s always, Firefly this and Firefly that, what about me?” Sharon defends, trying to move close to Bucky.
The elevator dings, opening on the floor. Bucky crosses the threshold.
“I’m going to send the elevator back up, I want you out of my life. My house key can be dropped off here at Natasha’s, don’t you dare try to contact me or anyone. It is over.”
Sharon’s final plea falls on deaf ears as the doors are closed and Bucky lets out a heavy sigh. He brings out his phone trying to call you as he jogs through the crowd towards the nearest station, checking the watch he knows the next train leaves in ten minutes.
Bucky calls out your name through the station, his breathing erratic. You have your hood up, not wanting to be spotted by him.
You can hear his calls, the way your phone vibrates in your pocket a frantic echo of his own booming voice.
“I’m sorry, I really am so sorry, it is no excuse she deleted the messages, fuck, I should have called. I should have been the one there. I’m your best friend. I should have caught on earlier.” He tenderly cups your face between his hands, guilt seeping into his bones.
His thumbs wipe your tears, you don’t want to have a public meltdown.
“Come on let’s get you home, I think we still have time to grab ice cream from Mrs. Lorena’s store.” His warm hands leave your face, but the warmth returns on your hands as he intertwines them with his, you want to cry all over again.
Bucky takes charge of leading you through the night train, you both stand in favour of the elderly couple who need the seats. They look at the two of you warmly.
You feel small, your hand never leaving his, he stays close with almost a protective stance over you.
Bucky notes the change in your demeanour. How you’re hiding away, flinching at loud sounds.
It eats at him how these small things had inculcated themselves into you the past months you were with Rumlow. He didn’t care about the consequences, he will beat the shit out of that fucker.
Your mind races, back to the night you first went out with Rumlow. Somehow your mind kept comparing what he did to Bucky. As though your tall brunette best friend should be the standard of all men.
————————————————–
You weren’t going to call Rumlow back, realising that maybe the reason you were comparing him to Bucky was because you were in love with your best friend, your Bucky.
The conversation was going to be simple, carry a bouquet of his favourite flowers, a letter in your hand filled with your confession. Your nerves singed with each step towards his door.
You rang the bell, once, twice; then you heard the laughter and kisses. Your heart sunk, you scrambled to hide at the other end of the hallway.
Bucky came into view with Sharon, the business major. They make their way to his door, lips meeting ever so often, you feel each one deliver a crack to your heart.
Maybe, maybe you were meant to be best friends only. The door closes and you can hear their sounds, you move past the corridor and exit the building.
Nodding to yourself, Bucky Barnes and you best friends through college.
————————————————–
“Firefly?” Bucky waves a hand in front of you, you blink, looking around.
“Huh?” You speak before realising.
“I asked where is your key ring?” Bucky looks at you in worry.
“Oh um,” You fish around for the familiar keyring handing it to him.
Bucky opens the door at sets down the bag of groceries. How long did you space out for?
“So, here is your mission, should you choose to accept it,” He brings out your favourite ice cream tub from the bag.
Your face breaks out into a grin, a laugh finally reverberating in your chest rather than sobs.
“Is it to eat this ice cream and talk to your idiot best friend.” Bucky holds up two spoons as an offer.
You grab one, then grab the tub and make a run for the living room couch.
“Oh no you don’t!” Bucky chases after you, you twist around the last minute your foot and his tangling with the fluffy carpet under the coffee table, you both land on the couch.
Bucky is above you as your foreheads collide and the tub of ice cream rolls onto the floor.
“Are you okay?” He questions, as you rub your forehead and his, the ache dies down slightly of the impact.
“Sort of,” You wince, then look at him.
The two of you lock gazes, heat blooms between you both. Red tinged cheeks.
Bucky had wondered how it would be, to hold you this close.
You had wondered how it would be, to have him in your arms.
Both of you break out of your thoughts and scramble to sit up. Ankles still caught in the carpet, you both slide down the couch, ending with your straddling his hips.
His hands move to your hips and yours wrap around his neck.
Bucky feels your warm breath fan across his face, how is it you fit so well against him, as though you belong next to him.
You feel his fingers gently squeeze your hips, how is it that your arms encircle him as though he belongs between them, next to you.
You feel something poke your thigh. Bucky’s eyes widen.
“Um, is is that…”
“No um, no,”
Bucky panics at your suggestion quickly moving you from his lap to beside him on the floor.
The spoons clatter to the floor between his legs.
The sigh that leaves from Bucky’s lips has you laugh, he joins in. Shoulders shaking and heads thrown back in mirth.
Your head on his shoulder and his resting on of top yours.
Laughter and giggles filling the apartment after months.
————————————————–
It is another month later when you all are at your weekly game night at Bucky and Steve’s place.
“Barnes, who are you taking to the wedding then?” Sam questions between shuffling the deck of Uno Cards.
“What wedding?” You curiously look up Bucky sighs, shoulders deflating.
“Maya is getting married, and insisted I bring someone along, and well they wanted to meet my girlfriend but I’ve broken up.” He explains, placing a chip in his mouth.
“So just tell them?” You quirk an eyebrow.
“You remember Maya right?” He looks at you with an incredulous gaze.
“And Mr. Barnes here hasn’t told her, he’s broken up. Wanted to show off the whiney girl.” Sam announces.
“Winnie Barnes would not approve.” Steve adds quietly and Bucky groans.
Nat gives you a look before looking down into her phone. You blink a few times not understanding what that look meant.
Your phone chimes, your eyebrows furrow at the message.
Best Friend: go as his fake date to the wedding, his family adores you.
Me: who even told you?
Best Friend: not important.
You look up with a glare at Natasha.
Best Friend: don’t glare at her. She’s an innocent baby.
Me: I’m not doing the fake date thing. Not with Bucky, it will be hard.
Best Friend: come on, he looks at you the same way.
Me:he doesn’t. and also bye. i’m not having this conversation again.
You place your phone back, looking up at the four of them staring at you.
“What?” You question, picking up your seven cards.
“Do you have any solution for Bucky?” Steve wonders, you look at Nat, she shrugs innocently.
You narrow your eyes at her.
“Let me think.” You bide your time. Bucky inhales deeply, seeing his own set of cards.
Your phone chimes again, you control the groan that whats to leave you.
Best Friend: listen, just trust me okay? When have I said something that turned to shit?
Me: its only twice your plans have not turned to shit.
Best Friend: ouch. this won’t turn to shit come on, help him out. I’ll ask Nat to let you win.
Me: as if I need to be let to win.
Best Friend: she has 4 draw fours.
Me: what the fuck?
You look up and Nat discreetly shows you proof.
“Say the word and you get them.” Nat whispers.
More encouragement comes through from your best friend.
“What if, Bucky, you take a fake date…” You clear your throat.
“Maya will catch on its a fake date and then it will be a mess, I just will fake a work thing.”
“What if I go? As your um fake date?” You offer, placing your cards face down near the space between you and Nat.
“Are you sure? I mean they may believe it…” Bucky trails off in thought.
“I mean, only if you’re comfortable… Just Maya will be upset if you don’t go at all and not having a date should not stop you—,”
“No, I think it should work, we know each other well enough to pretend to be in love.” Bucky grins.
You try not to wince, “Yup, yeah, won’t be hard to pretend.” You agree.
“Thank you, Firefly.” Bucky beams for the remainder of the game even as you beat his ass with your exchanged cards.
————————————————–
BestFriend: so who wants to bet on they return as an official couple? I place a 100 bucks.
Natasha: add my 100 to that
Sam: nah man they’re too scared to admit it.
Steve: they won’t damage the friendship.
Best Friend: Oh lil Samuel and lil Steve ya’ll better be ready to pay up.
————————————————–
You grasp the handle of your suitcase a little tighter as Bucky’s car pulls around the corner. You walk closer to the edge where he could park for a few moments as you would load up your things.
Bucky set the car into park stepping out and greeting you with a wide smile. You return the gesture, he envelopes you into one of his warm hugs. Easing your nerves.
“Here give it to me and you can hang the dress near the suit.” Bucky takes your small suitcase and you open the backseat door his navy suit hanging from the hook, you place your own dress near it. Checking for any folds and then getting into the front seat with him.
“So um,” He says after a few moments of silence.
“Yeah?” You look at him, he seems nervous.
“We need to get our stories straight…” He hints you nod.
“When did we start dating, first date, who asked who?” You list, he nods.
“Guess watching those rom-coms proved to be useful.” He chuckles, you swat his arm lightly.
“Okay so we sort of confessed a few months ago, but we were scared to ruin the friendship.” He offers, which in a sense was true for him, though he never confessed. Even though he had fallen for you.
“Yes and we decided to date other people, but those didn’t work out so we decided to give it a shot cause the feelings never went away.” Which was true you think, at the back of your mind you were in love with him.
“Okay, yes so we’re dating since a month and a half…” He offers, you hum in agreement.
“Yep and first date…” you pause to think.
“Ice cream parlour.” He offers, you smile that was actually your first outing as friends.
“Yeah, and you had the cherry stuck to your nose with whipped cream.” You begin to laugh.
“Oh right miss, whipped cream moustache.” He gives you a look, chuckling as well.
“Oh right, you looked like a clown.” You roll your eyes.
“And you were my sidekick.” Bucky teases.
“Alright, alright, and we both confessed, got each other flowers and stuff.” You admit, you had put the flower in resin.
Bucky grips the wheel, he had gotten one flower’s petals from the bouquet preserved.
“Yeah, that, that sounds romantic enough.” He clears his throat. The earlier tension seeping back into him, was this a mistake? What if he said something stupid.
“Hey, um, Buck?” Your hand rests on his shoulder.
He looks at you at the stop sign.
“If, if at any point you feel the whole faking thing gets too much lets you know keep a safe word and we’ll you know revert to being best friends and try to exit that situation okay?” You offer.
“You’re perfect you know? I was nervous what if it gets too much for either of us and this yeah the safe word is sensible.” He agrees.
“So whats our safe word?” You question.
“Draw-four.” His mouth twists as though he can taste the loss against your multiple draw fours that you saved just for him at the one on one game.
You can’t help but laugh, “Okay, draw-four it is.”
Bucky shakes his head, shifting the gear as the green light comes into view.
“Also, Firefly, I want you to be comfortable I know what the fucker did might linger or come back at random moments, I know you’re doing well with therapy but if it gets too much or if anything triggers you, please tell me. I will get you out of that situation or help you as you need okay?” He says, you feel your chest constrict at the intensity of him caring about you.
“I will, Bucky, I promise.” You give his hand a squeeze oer the gearshift.
————————————————–
The two hour journey to the venue has you both slightly tired, mostly hungry. The rehearsal dinner was the event you both had to dress up first for, as you both enter the venue.
A squeal has you both turn.
“Maya.” Bucky grins opening his arms for his cousin to come crashing into him.
“I thought you were going to ditch my wedding.” She complains but then bounces excited, “Now introduce me to your date!” her eyes turn to you, widening.
You offer a smile your congratulations to her caught in your throat as she screams excitedly once again.
“Oh my god, I knew it! I knew this would be best friends to lovers! James you did good! Wait till I tell Aunt Winnie and Becca!” Maya cheers pulling you into a hug. You hug back and Bucky scratches the back of his neck giving you a nervous look.
Maybe it would not be hard to convince them that you both were in love he thinks…. The only problem was how does he convince himself not to blabber to you.
You feel Maya’s excitement seep into you as well when she pulls away, jumping slightly.
“Congratulations!” You cheer.
“Girl, you have to tell me how did you both realise.” She raises a finger up in warning.
“I will, I will.” You give a promise to the bride.
“What is all this commotion?” Winnie Barnes steps out of the room that Maya was in, her smile widening as she spots her son.
You admire them as they hug after months of staying apart.
Winnie pulls away from the hug, running a hand over Bucky’s hair and then cupping his jaw.
“Ma, don’t cry you saw me yesterday on video-call.” Bucky wipes her tears.
“Not the same,” She pats his head, placing a kiss on his forehead.
“I love you.” He engulfs her in a hug again.
“I love you too, sunshine.” She smiles warmly.
“Now where is this mystery date of yours, hiding things from your Ma,” She gives him a small glare, Bucky widens his eyes. He scrambles to turn and his hand is outstretched towards you, you intertwine your fingers with his, stepping next to him.
“Bucky, you better not be lying.” She looks between the two of you, his grip tightens on your hand.
“We’re not, Mrs. Barnes—,”
“Sweetheart, Winnie for you always.” His mom corrects you, a warm smile.
She cups your cheek as well.
“So he finally came to his senses.” She teases.
“We both did…” You add with a smile, looking up at Bucky, admiring him.
Bucky looks down at you, your gazes transfixed upon each-other his blue eyes inviting.
Bucky wants to be lost in your eyes, drowning in their deepness. Submerging himself in the affection that they currently hold for him.
A flash has you both turn and shake your heads.
“I need one for the album.” Maya reasons and Bucky sighs.
“Send me a copy?” You offer trying to dissipate the tension.
“Why don’t you both settle into your room? And no funny business.” Winnie warns, you both pale.
“Ma, I would, no—,” Bucky stutters, a blush coating his cheeks.
Winnie looks at you, before laughing.
“He better be treating you right, sweetheart, if not just tell me. I’ll sort him out.” She gives him a warning look.
Then Winnie cups your cheek, “I am so happy you’re with him.” She says earnest.
Guilt gnaws at you, Winnie probably would be heartbroken if she knew you both were lying through your teeth.
“Sir, Ma’am, your room is ready, we’ll have the luggage delivered to your room in the next ten minutes.” The receptionist hands you the keycards.
“Well go freshen up I’ll see you both at seven-thirty for the rehearsal dinner.”
With a final hug to Winnie and Maya both of you sauntered into your room. Bucky looks at the bed. The only bed.
“Um, I’ll take the sofa.” He offers.
“Bucky that sofa is not even going to fit your legs…” You inform him.
“We’ll just make a wall of pillows?” You offer.
“Are you sure?” His mind wanders to the night you were in his arms, straddling his lap.
He coughs to remind himself; not to let his mind wander astray.
You nod, at what you don’t know, it’s not like you both haven’t cuddled or been in each other’s physical space before. Road trips you both pretty much sat next to each other fell asleep listening to songs so why was this different?
“Is it cool if I shower first?” Bucky turns to the bathroom, “Oh fuck me.” He mutters.
“What?” You follow his line of vision.
What kind of hotel was this?
The wall between the bathroom and bedroom wasn’t opaque it was a glass, a very transparent glass. The door was made on frosted glass, but again you would be able to understand what was going on.
You gulp audibly.
Bucky opens the door to check if there is a curtain or towel to cover the pane.
The bathroom proves to be larger, inside, the toilet seat away from the view only the glass shower and bathtub can be perceived from the glass.
You peek from the glass as Bucky rests his hands on his hips as he looks around for a solution.
“Shower with swimsuits?” He offers an idea.
“Bucky I didn’t carry one…” You scratch the back of your neck, suddenly everything feels incredibly warm.
“Underwear then…”
“How about we just shower while the other one faces away? Or lays in bed…” you counter.
It seems plausible, Bucky purses his lips, then nods.
“So um, you lay down, stretch your feet out and I’ll um, shower first then I’ll lay down…” He runs a hand through his hair and then over his stubble.
You nod, grabbing your phone and turning to the bed.
Bucky grabs his toiletries and powers through going to the very open bathroom. Maybe the hot water will fog up the glass?
You immediately text your best friend and Natasha about the one bed and very daunting bathroom situation but they just send stupid laughing emojis in response.
You groan.
Some friends they are, the shower runs and from your angle on the bed you can’t see a thing apart from the ceiling of the bathroom, you sigh.
It would just be easier to admit to Bucky you have feelings for him. You can’t risk your friendship though.
Bucky sighs in content as the droplets hit his skin. The warm water taking away the stress of the day and tenseness in his shoulders. He watches the rivulets trail from his body to the anti skid flooring. One hand on the wall.
His mind briefly wonders what would it be like to have his ex here and then he dismisses the thought. Sharon and he were supposed to be a one off a distraction from his growing feelings for you.
Then she got clingy, demanding every waking minute of his to be hers to fill with herself and her own needs and wants.
Bucky sighs again, the suds of soap now turning clear. He grabs the towel, checking the glass sure enough it is fogged up by the heat.
He puts on his boxers and jeans as he exits and your voice catches in your throat as a lone rivulet makes its was down his neck then chest then abdomen, ending just over the taut band of muscles and you feel as though the world is in slow motion.
“Take a picture it will last longer.” Bucky teases bringing you out of your staring.
“I h-hope you didn’t use up all t-the hot water.” You stutter get up grabbing your set of things from your bag.
The outfit for tonight was a simple purple jumpsuit that brought out your curves, and chest. Long sleeves but very comfortable.
Bucky lays down, texting Sam and Steve finally about what was happening. They both offered him advice on avoiding the shared bed but then the picture of the couch he sent had them agree with your pillow wall idea.
As the shower runs he feels himself grow less confident in his plan to have you both pretending, he was so sure he’d slip up.
When you exit Bucky’s lips part the deep purple of the jumpsuit bringing out the colour of your skin and eyes. The neckline of the outfit was probably his favourite, it was low, and accentuated your chest as the sleeves were the ones that had slits on them.
It showed skin but in a way that was risqué but classy.
The fabric hugged the curve of your hips and Bucky wanted to pull you close to him just so he could feel your warmth.
“Take a picture it will last longer.” You tease him and he shakes his head, observing you do your make up. He’d seen it before the way your tongue would poke out in concentration as you picked which eyeshadow to use or if the colours were going well with what you were wearing.
You turn to him once you’re done,
“Can you see if these are even?” You sit next to him on the bed closing your eyes.
Bucky’s eyes are on your lips and not eyelids. He traces their outline with his gaze, appearing so soft and so inviting.
“Bucky? Is the eyeliner equal?” You open your eyes as he looks up at your confused expression.
“Yes, um w-was just ma-making sure they were equal…” He stammers out quickly getting up and to further aid drying his hair. He was growing it out again.
The two of you make it downstairs, Bucky’s arm slips around your waist before you enter. Pulling you close to his warmth. You smile up at him.
“You look beautiful.” He admits looking down at you with a smile that sends flutters through your stomach.
“You look quite handsome yourself.” You offer him an equally butterfly inducing smile.
Bucky knows his heart will break this weekend but if he gets to pretend to be yours then its worth it.
You look up at Bucky stealing a final glance before walking through the door. You suddenly realise that maybe, maybe basking in this pretend would at-least give you a taste of happiness, even if the magic would end come Monday morning.
As the two of you find your seating next to Rebecca, who also is elated at you being the secret girlfriend. The dinner begins to go by without a hitch.
Emotional words are said in the practice speeches and the love between Maya and her to be husband, Marcus; is felt through all the attendees, tying them all together.
Bucky has his arm around the back of your chair, as you all wait for dessert. He doesn’t realise it when he begins to trace soft patters along your mid back. You lean into his comforting touch, allowing him to continue.
When you look up at him, your breath hitches at how intently he looks at you. Those azure eyes taking in every bit of your own eyes.
“Oh come on, just kiss already.” Rebecca’s voice stops the patterns being drawn upon you.
“W-what?” You look at her in confusion.
“You both look like you want to tear into each other.” She rolls her eyes, “Just kiss we’re all adults. Well except the kids table in the corner but,” Rebecca shrugs.
Bucky leans in deciding to kiss your cheek just to shut his sister’s mouth. You then turn to face him just when his lips were to brush you cheek.
His soft, slightly chapped lips brush over yours, his eyes widen for a moment. Then he closes them, his hand cups your jaw. You feel that damned fluttering feeling again, as you kiss him back. Your palm resting on his chest. His heart thundering wildly against his chest.
The kiss lasts for a few moments, that feel as though time was slowed down, all too soon you pull away from him. Biting your own bottom lip and a deep blush creeping across your chest and neck.
“What did you just start dating?” Rebecca comments, “That looked like a middle schooler’s kiss.”
Bucky tries to make sense, you try to make sense as well. Because what the fuck, you both just kissed each other.
“We aren’t into PDA.” You defend with a sip of your drink to soothe the nerves.
Your hand rests on Bucky’s knee, a grounding action that the two of you needed.
Back, in the room; he begins to undo his shirt, he’s halfway done when he pauses.
“Firefly?”
You turn to face him, the make up from your face gone.
“Bucky?”
“Was, was the kiss okay?” He fidgets with the cufflink as he undoes it.
“I um, guess yeah? Why?” You bring your eyes back up to his,
“No, no, um Rebecca’s comment just well, what if we don’t appear that comfortable?”
“Do we practice kissing?” You wonder, god just dig a six feet deep hole and bury yourself in it.
“I, thats not, I’m not—,” He lets out a frustrated sigh, closing the space between you two.
Your ears begin a ringing at the way his cologne floods your senses.
Bucky’s warm hands cup your cheeks,
“I’m not, not trying to take advantage of this but um, maybe we could table kissing? Because I guess handholding and all of the other things we’ve done as, as best friends, so…”
“Yeah no um, yeah I get what you’re saying,” you agree.
“No kissing then.”
“Nope, no kissing.”
With the rule established you both wind down for the night the pillow wall is built and the covers are pulled over your frames.
Exhaustion tugs at your body but sleep seems to be at its wits end not wanting to arrive to you.
Bucky shifts around in bed, staring at the pillow wall. That should not have been the first kiss between the two of you.
His mind is running a mile a minute, he wonders if you’ve fallen asleep.
“Bucky, you awake?” Your soft whisper has him tug one pillow away.
“Hey,” His soft smile greets you with his hair tousled and eyes craving sleep.
“Hey,” you smile back, your eyes on the verge of sleep, a few strands of your hair curling around your forehead.
“Can’t sleep?” He wonders and you nod.
“You too?” You ask and he nods.
“Do you want to talk till we fall asleep?” You offer as a plan.
“Sounds like a plan.” Bucky’s heart feels warm.
It is quiet for a moment before Bucky decides to tell you about his promotion at work. It’s hardly been time at the firm but they recognise his potential.
You reach across the wall and hug him, Bucky grins and wraps his arms around you, relishing the moment.
“Thats great! I’m so proud of you!” You cheer him on, he grins. You both slowly pull away from the hug. Returning to your respective sides.
The conversation flows from there, about what his new responsibilities would be and how he would have to divide his time. Both sets of eyelids get heavy and Bucky dozes off mid conversation, you chuckle lightly. Brushing his hair back and then slumber find you as well. With your hand resting on his cheek.
————————————————–
It’s very warm for the cooler spring day that was predicted.
Bucky is usually feeling like a furnace but today he is exceptionally warm as well. Not that he is complaining but something about the warmth is inviting.
A soft whimper presents itself to Bucky and his eyes peel open. You’re pressed against flush him, his head was buried in the crook of your neck, an arm around your waist. Your arm resting above his own.
“Firefly…” He tries to coax you out of slumber.
“Five more minutes…” You mutter sleepily, shifting around till you face him and your head rests on his chest. How do you have a death grip on him to not let him escape he doesn’t understand.
“Firefly… we gotta get to breakfast…” Bucky manages to free his hand and brushes his thumb over your cheek bone.
Honestly he wouldn’t leave the bed if he woke up to you everyday.
“Shhh, the dough is resting.” You grumble, shifting closer.
“The dough?” Bucky grins amused.
“I’m the dough, must rest in the oven.” You complain again.
“I thought you’re my Firefly.” Oh he’s going to ask you about this.
“I can be two things.” You pull away looking at him.
Bucky looks at you, waiting for the sleepiness to leave you.
“Bucky?” You ask, then look down at your intertwined bodies, well you clinging onto him.
“Firefly, good morning.” He chuckles and then you move away from him all too soon.
“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?!” You sit up on your side, face hidden in your hands.
“Because the dough needed to rest.” He says matter of factly
“What dough?” You question, then it hits you the drunken analogy you had come up with your best friend and Nat,
“Oh that no, um, i’m, i’m going to the bathroom.”
You grab your phone and things as quickly as possible, Bucky remains laying in bed you know he’s still laughing, the endearment is clear in his demeanour but you have half a mind you’re going to be called dough from now on till you spill the reason.
Me: i sleepily blabbed to him about resting the dough.
Best Friend: you know this is why I too up night classes here, to stay awake for the fresh batch of well rested dough stories.
Nat: So how was the resting of the dough on the very hot oven?
Me: i hate you both. It was a drunken analogy about Bucky being warm.
Best Friend: that made you want to be dough resting in the oven.
Nat: so when will you get to baking? Now that you have rested.
Best Friend: oh I think very soon, Bucky’s probably stiffly up to the right temperature.
Me: i will smack you both. stop it.
You groan silently. Keeping your phone on the counter. Useless, your friends are useless comedians at your expense.
Breakfast passes by in the hotel as an uneventful affair, Bucky and you decided that meal times without family intervention would be on best friend mode so the conversation was mutual topics and trying to see if you could squeeze in a marathon of harry potter movies to commemorate the time you did the same in college a year ago.
The ceremony is at five which gives you a few hours to kill before absolutely needing to get ready.
“Do you think we should ask your mum or Maya if she needs any help? It just feels weird being just a guest…”
Bucky’s hair is falling upon his forehead when he looks up at you. Unthinkingly you reach over to help move it, and for a moment he wants to just have your fingertips run through his hair as he lays next to you.
“I, yes, we should.” He wonders if you can hear his heart beating almost as if it will leap out of his chest.
And you both find yourselves barely making it in time to get changed for the ceremony. Bucky takes over ironing duty since he knows your absolutely need to wash your hair before an event otherwise you don’t feel yourself.
In the nick of time you make it, Bucky eternally grateful you had his cufflinks set up and he helps you zip up the dress.
You both are panting by the time you reach the attached ballroom. With just two minutes till the bridal march. The wedding planner shoos you both off with a glare as if Bucky and you never helped set the decor because five people of her team fell ill.
“Shouldn’t have fixed that centrepiece.” You grumble as Bucky snickers before you settle into the seats.
“Firefly, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have left it unfixed.” He whispers leaning in,
“I would.” You whisper back.
“You’re too nice.”
“I’ll break it. Let the reception begin.” You warn him.
He wraps his arm around your shoulder bringing you close.
“I think the dough needs some rest.” He teases.
“James.” You warn, the redness of your cheeks only urging him onward.
“James—,” Your voice caught in your throat at his proximity. He licks his lips, eyes on your soft ones. You’re wearing that red lipstick from the brand you frequently stayed up at night to order from, and he could lie and say the shade does nothing for you because your lips seem so inviting the shade of red adding to your allure.
If you ask him for his heart he’d give it to you right there, he’d get on his knees and beg you to have it.
The bridal march breaks his reverie and both of you stand up with the crowd as Maya walks down the aisle with her father, looking every bit of an angel in her wedding gown.
When you look at her fiancé, your heart lurches, he’s crying tears of joy watching her close the final bit of distance between them and their forever.
As her father gives her hand in her to be husband, the intimate look of hidden smiles they share almost has you look away.
Bucky watches the ceremony play out, Maya and Marcus have to say their vows now and he knows they were best friends before Maya admitted her feelings and they have been together four years before they got engaged.
“I believe the couple have prepared their own vows.” The minister gestures and Marcus’ best man hands him his folded papers.
“Maya, I met you in high school and you were instantly my best friend.” Marcus begins.
“We made a list of promises of what we would do and a set of friendship rules, you may not remember but I still have those pieces of decorated cardboard.”
Maya laughs, recalling the memory.
You look up at Bucky, recalling the moment from where you both turned into each other’s best friends.
“The first time as best friends when we had an argument was over where would we go to for college, because in all honesty you and I can only function if we’re close enough to share our one braincell.”
Their entire bridal party laughs at the joke.
You recall the time you were paired with him to play Charades and the two of you sucked so horribly that the entire group banned the game.
“That day I was so angry but when I went back home I saw those cardboards. I knew college could be done anywhere but my best friend? I couldn’t leave her. That is the best damn decision, I made, well that and proposing to you and today standing in front of you, vowing to be by your side, even when you hate me leaving my clothes scattered on the floor, loving you even when I may be annoyed at you for not being able to pick a place for dinner,”
Maya lightly swats him, then wipes a tear.
You stare at Bucky catching the smile on his face, you wonder what he thinks about, then you feel him about to look at you so you look ahead.
“To cherish you even when things around us may push and shove us to not remember what we’re together for, to nourish and nurture our love, our life,
to work on myself to be the best I can be for you. To support you in everything you need me to support you, to catch you if you stumble, to be held by you if I tumble. I vow to be your best friend, love and husband as long as time is ours.” Marcus gazes lovingly at his bride.
Bucky tears his eyes away when he hears your sniffle. You wipe your tears with the back of your hand. His hand shifts to wipe your tears and to hold you closer. Press his lips to your temple in promise.
“Marcus, how am I supposed to speak now?” Maya complains with a chuckle that masks a small sob.
Her groom shrugs innocently making all the teary eyed faces laugh.
“My Marcus, the day you entered my life, was the most ordinary day I thought but little did I know your doodle of a covalent bond in my notebook would be setting up the reaction for an extraordinary life ahead where I get to stand at the altar with you.” Maya looks up at him, Marcus smiles at her, eyes getting watery.
“When I admitted my feelings to you, I was scared to lose you. So scared that I was going to hold my silence. Then you brought those damn sliders from the place we went to as best friends and I knew I had to tell you how much more love my heart held for you.”
Buck looks down at you, every memory with you playing in his mind, taking in Maya’s words and replacing them with moments he has with his Firefly.
“I vow to not nag you for your clothes strewn across the floor.”
Bucky adores you as you laugh. Then looks back at the bride and groom.
“I vow to be brave when you need me to for myself and for you. I vow to let my fears show so you can be brave for me and yourself. I vow to cherish you for who you are and who you become. To nourish and nurture our love, our life. To work on myself for being the one you need through any stage of life we are at; to be your best friend, love and wife as long as time is ours.”
You gaze up at Bucky when his hand moves in your periphery, you catch the redness of his cheeks, he cried as well. Your hands ache to offer comfort.
Bucky gazes at you, both of your visions blurry from the tears.
“Beautiful words, now I ask you, Marcus Finnegan, do you take Maya Barnes as your lawfully wedded wife?” The minister questions Marcus.
He places the wedding band on her finger.
Bucky grasps your hand in his, fingers curling around the space between yours. You look from the half intertwined hands to Bucky questioningly.
He isn’t going to let you go, no.
If he had gotten to you first that night, maybe if he was brave enough he could have prevented the heartbreak.
“Now I ask you, Maya Barnes, do you take Marcus Finnegan as your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister questions Maya.
She places the wedding band on his finger.
You curl your fingers around his hand, letting tears flow down your cheeks. You hope with all your heart you’re interpreting his gesture correctly. If only you had gotten to him first that night.
“I present to you family and friends, by the power vested in me, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes-Finnegan. You may now kiss the bride.”
The cheers and clapping around the ballroom die down into a dull buzz, Bucky cups your cheek with his left hand, pulling your lips onto his own. The kiss filled with a longing and hunger that you both carried for months. Salt mixes with the taste of his lips. Fears slowly let gone off as you grasp his left hand that rests upon your cheek.
When the two of you pull away for air, hidden by everyone standing to keep clapping for the newly weds allowing you both to be tucked away in your little corner.
“Why didn’t we say anything?” Bucky laughs through the tears.
“I was scared to lose you.” You rest your forehead against his, Bucky wipes your tears as you wipe away his own.
“Firefly, I’m never letting you go. Should have walked upto you and that fucker.” He finally admits, confessing his entire plan to you.
“I kept thinking of doing the same when you were with her, showed up with your favourite flowers too. Have it preserved back home…”
“I’ve kept it preserved too.” Bucky admits, joy ceases his heart at your elation.
Your lips meet again, this time with lesser longing than before but the need to have each other ever present. Bucky’s lips peppered kisses all over your face, drawing out laughter from you.
Each mirthful moment tucked away for him to keep.
Your head resting on his chest as his arms around your waist, the slow notes of the song cascade around the two of you, Bucky had you on the dance floor from the first song, dinner left for later.
You tilt your head back looking up at him with so much adoration.
“Waited so long to have you look at me this way.” He admits.
“Always looked at you this way when you weren’t looking.” You confess.
“Never looking away from your gorgeous eyes, Firefly.” He promises, his lips ghost over yours, as you rise on your tip toes even with heels to kiss your Bucky.
He says it all woozy and completely deadpan, totally at ease - a natural flirt - like waking up in a hospital with a neck brace on and your motorcycle presumably totaled in some back alley was just another thing on a Tuesday’s schedule to tick off.
Who knows; maybe it was for this guy.
pairing: biker bucky x nurse!reader
summary:bucky barnes is a magnet for danger, bad karma, and pretty woman - not necessarily in that order. a motorcycle crash lands him in reader’s ER, and it looks like he might have just found himself a new game of high-stakes chase.
synopsis: part one of - hopefully - a new series, content warnings for minor medical procedures, i.e., injections and such. biker bucky is always a classic, and i wanted to write it, so i did.
Summary:Joining the Avengers wasn’t on your plans. Not until Steve asked you to help his best friend. Bucky was Bucky, but the Winter Soldier still came from time ti time, bringing with him chaos and destruction. And you was supposed to keep that side of him away… But what happens when both Bucky and the Winter Soldier start to enjoy your company more than anyone else? Should you turn your back on the Soldier, ignore his own fears and traumas? That’s exactly what everyone wants. But you were never known for following orders…
×
“Stark called me again.” You say, a cup of tea still half full and warm in your hands. “Guess why.”
“Recruitment.” Steve sighs, putting the empty bowl of cereal on the coffee table next to his feet.
“Yup. He came with the ‘hello, how are you? How’s your job, how’s your paycheck, blah blah blah, wanna join us?’ ” Rolling your eyes, you pull your legs over, folding them under you. “Same thing as always.”
“He cares, (Y/N),” Steve says, turning the TV volume down. “On his own way, but he cares… But… Actually, (Y/N), I’ve been wanting to ask you to accept Stark’s for a different reason.”
Pinching your eyebrows together, you move to the kitchen island, sitting on the stool. “Different reason?”
“Yeah.” He heavily sighs, glancing at you before focusing on the dishes again. “You know we’re having problems with Bucky. Well… With his other side.”
“Wait.” You nervously chuckle. “You want to set me up with Barnes?” Steve’s friendship with Bucky is well known to you. They’re like brothers, and you, having the same feeling towards Steve, have the exact idea how that must feel. If it was Steve suffering from this, you’d be heartbroken. “I don’t see how I could be of any help.”
“It wasn’t my idea, not originally. The Hulk only calmed down after Banner got closer to Nat.”
“So you are trying to set me up with Barnes.” You don’t have much contact with him. You met him twice when Steve managed to make him go out and you were there too. But that was it.
“I trust you. And Bucky knows I trust you. I just think having someone by his side could help somehow.”
“Doesn’t he have the other Avengers?”
“He feels guilty because of what The Winter Soldier did to them. They’re there to help, of course, but he holds back, isolates himself. Not as much as before, but still.”
“And you think I could help him how?” Shrugging your shoulders, you wonder if you could do it. But that would also mean finally joining the Avengers. So there’s that.
“If you manage to befriend him, I think it would be enough.”
“You think tiny, little me will be enough to keep the Winter Soldier away.”
×
“What’s up, Barnes?” You ask, sitting next to him, a leg on each side of the bench as you sit sideways, facing him. “I heard the punchbag crying, you should give it a break.”
Bucky smiles a little before looking at you. “Hello, miss–”
“(Y/N).” You cut him off, pointing your bottle at him. “Call me (Y/N).”
“Call me Bucky.” He says, nodding his head. “So Steve managed to finally convince you to join the Avengers.”
“He did. But only because I was given a special mission.” Nobody intended on keeping this a secret. Bucky needs to know you care, you and Steve. “I’m here to help you.”
He furrows his eyebrows, shrugging his shoulders. “Help me? How so?”
“I–”
“Tell me it’s not about the other guy, (Y/N).” He moves to stand up, but you hold his arm, keeping him from going anywhere. “This is dangerous. I can’t believe Steve brought you into this.”
“Steve is worried about you. And it’s not like I’ll… Do something. I’m just here to… Offer you my friendship and stand by you, no matter what.” Bucky sighs, shaking his head. But he sits down again, looking at the floor. “And well, I’m with the Avengers now. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Just stay away when… He… Comes out.” Bucky says in a low, sad voice.
×
“Who are you?”
The voice, low and deep, but at the same time way too loud, breaks the silence and startles you, making your blood run cold for a second. You push the fridge door close in your desperation, eyes quickly moving to the source of the sound. There’s a figure seated on the edge of the table, alone in the dark. The only thing that helps you recognize him is the ray of blueish light that illuminates his shoulder and chest.
“Damn it, Bucky. You scared the hell out of me.” You whisper, a hand on your heart. “What are you doing here in the dark?”
“Who are you?” He asks again, and you just don’t follow.
Squinting your eyes, you tilt your head to the side a little. “Is it a joke? Like a knock-knock joke? Because I don’t get it. You should–”
You’re still speaking when he abruptly stands up, and that’s when it clicks.
Bucky doesn’t speak like this. Bucky doesn’t behave like this. Bucky doesn’t walk up to you like he’s ready to take you down.
“W-wait.” You mutter, raising a hand at him. As if it could stop him. Your eyes fall on the knife holder, but since your fighting reflexes weren’t mastered yet, he moves at the same time you do, blocking your way.
“I won’t ask a third time,” Bucky says, and the lower tone of his voice scares you. But it’s even worse when he takes a knife.
“Shit.” You mumble, slowly moving backward. Then it happens suddenly. He catches up to you, violently pushing you against the wall. A yelp leaves your lips when his metal arm lies on your chest, metal hand with a firm grip of your shoulder as his forearm presses your collarbones. It feels like he’s a rock that fell on you, making it impossible to move. “Bucky, please–”
“I’m not Bucky.” He barks, and you feel the blade against your side, right on your ribs.
“No, you’re not.” You tell him, talking fast. “You’re the Soldier.” To that, he tilts his head to the side a little, his eyes set on yours as the man towers over you. “And I swear I mean no harm.” Grinding your teeth at the pain, you wonder if he could break your collarbone or dislocate your shoulder. But you try to remain calm, slowly raising both your hands, showing him you have no gun, no weapon, nothing. “Soldiers don’t kill unarmed, defenseless women.”
“I do if I’m given the order.”
Breathing deeply, you weakly nod. “But you have no orders.” A red, floating circle gets your attention, and your eyes move from Bucky to the rectangular screen on the wall. Tony’s AI is watching. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. isolate the kitchen. Security protocol number seven.”
“Are you sure, miss (Y/N)?” He asks.
“Yes, I am.” You assure him, and you only listen as the metal doors are closed, locking you and the Winter Soldier alone.
“What are you doing?” He asks in a low voice, stepping closer to you until his whole body is pushing you against the wall, eyes never leaving yours. As if you’re some imminent threat that he needs to be aware of at all times.
Summary:Joining the Avengers wasn’t on your plans. Not until Steve asked you to help his best friend. Bucky was Bucky, but the Winter Soldier still came from time ti time, bringing with him chaos and destruction. And you was supposed to keep that side of him away… But what happens when both Bucky and the Winter Soldier start to enjoy your company more than anyone else? Should you turn your back on the Soldier, ignore his own fears and traumas? That’s exactly what everyone wants. But you were never known for following orders…
×
“Stark called me again.” You say, a cup of tea still half full and warm in your hands. “Guess why.”
“Recruitment.” Steve sighs, putting the empty bowl of cereal on the coffee table next to his feet.
“Yup. He came with the ‘hello, how are you? How’s your job, how’s your paycheck, blah blah blah, wanna join us?’ ” Rolling your eyes, you pull your legs over, folding them under you. “Same thing as always.”
“He cares, (Y/N),” Steve says, turning the TV volume down. “On his own way, but he cares… But… Actually, (Y/N), I’ve been wanting to ask you to accept Stark’s for a different reason.”
Pinching your eyebrows together, you move to the kitchen island, sitting on the stool. “Different reason?”
“Yeah.” He heavily sighs, glancing at you before focusing on the dishes again. “You know we’re having problems with Bucky. Well… With his other side.”
“Wait.” You nervously chuckle. “You want to set me up with Barnes?” Steve’s friendship with Bucky is well known to you. They’re like brothers, and you, having the same feeling towards Steve, have the exact idea how that must feel. If it was Steve suffering from this, you’d be heartbroken. “I don’t see how I could be of any help.”
“It wasn’t my idea, not originally. The Hulk only calmed down after Banner got closer to Nat.”
“So you are trying to set me up with Barnes.” You don’t have much contact with him. You met him twice when Steve managed to make him go out and you were there too. But that was it.
“I trust you. And Bucky knows I trust you. I just think having someone by his side could help somehow.”
“Doesn’t he have the other Avengers?”
“He feels guilty because of what The Winter Soldier did to them. They’re there to help, of course, but he holds back, isolates himself. Not as much as before, but still.”
“And you think I could help him how?” Shrugging your shoulders, you wonder if you could do it. But that would also mean finally joining the Avengers. So there’s that.
“If you manage to befriend him, I think it would be enough.”
“You think tiny, little me will be enough to keep the Winter Soldier away.”
×
“What’s up, Barnes?” You ask, sitting next to him, a leg on each side of the bench as you sit sideways, facing him. “I heard the punchbag crying, you should give it a break.”
Bucky smiles a little before looking at you. “Hello, miss–”
“(Y/N).” You cut him off, pointing your bottle at him. “Call me (Y/N).”
“Call me Bucky.” He says, nodding his head. “So Steve managed to finally convince you to join the Avengers.”
“He did. But only because I was given a special mission.” Nobody intended on keeping this a secret. Bucky needs to know you care, you and Steve. “I’m here to help you.”
He furrows his eyebrows, shrugging his shoulders. “Help me? How so?”
“I–”
“Tell me it’s not about the other guy, (Y/N).” He moves to stand up, but you hold his arm, keeping him from going anywhere. “This is dangerous. I can’t believe Steve brought you into this.”
“Steve is worried about you. And it’s not like I’ll… Do something. I’m just here to… Offer you my friendship and stand by you, no matter what.” Bucky sighs, shaking his head. But he sits down again, looking at the floor. “And well, I’m with the Avengers now. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Just stay away when… He… Comes out.” Bucky says in a low, sad voice.
×
“Who are you?”
The voice, low and deep, but at the same time way too loud, breaks the silence and startles you, making your blood run cold for a second. You push the fridge door close in your desperation, eyes quickly moving to the source of the sound. There’s a figure seated on the edge of the table, alone in the dark. The only thing that helps you recognize him is the ray of blueish light that illuminates his shoulder and chest.
“Damn it, Bucky. You scared the hell out of me.” You whisper, a hand on your heart. “What are you doing here in the dark?”
“Who are you?” He asks again, and you just don’t follow.
Squinting your eyes, you tilt your head to the side a little. “Is it a joke? Like a knock-knock joke? Because I don’t get it. You should–”
You’re still speaking when he abruptly stands up, and that’s when it clicks.
Bucky doesn’t speak like this. Bucky doesn’t behave like this. Bucky doesn’t walk up to you like he’s ready to take you down.
“W-wait.” You mutter, raising a hand at him. As if it could stop him. Your eyes fall on the knife holder, but since your fighting reflexes weren’t mastered yet, he moves at the same time you do, blocking your way.
“I won’t ask a third time,” Bucky says, and the lower tone of his voice scares you. But it’s even worse when he takes a knife.
“Shit.” You mumble, slowly moving backward. Then it happens suddenly. He catches up to you, violently pushing you against the wall. A yelp leaves your lips when his metal arm lies on your chest, metal hand with a firm grip of your shoulder as his forearm presses your collarbones. It feels like he’s a rock that fell on you, making it impossible to move. “Bucky, please–”
“I’m not Bucky.” He barks, and you feel the blade against your side, right on your ribs.
“No, you’re not.” You tell him, talking fast. “You’re the Soldier.” To that, he tilts his head to the side a little, his eyes set on yours as the man towers over you. “And I swear I mean no harm.” Grinding your teeth at the pain, you wonder if he could break your collarbone or dislocate your shoulder. But you try to remain calm, slowly raising both your hands, showing him you have no gun, no weapon, nothing. “Soldiers don’t kill unarmed, defenseless women.”
“I do if I’m given the order.”
Breathing deeply, you weakly nod. “But you have no orders.” A red, floating circle gets your attention, and your eyes move from Bucky to the rectangular screen on the wall. Tony’s AI is watching. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. isolate the kitchen. Security protocol number seven.”
“Are you sure, miss (Y/N)?” He asks.
“Yes, I am.” You assure him, and you only listen as the metal doors are closed, locking you and the Winter Soldier alone.
“What are you doing?” He asks in a low voice, stepping closer to you until his whole body is pushing you against the wall, eyes never leaving yours. As if you’re some imminent threat that he needs to be aware of at all times.
Warnings:My blog is 18+ and though there’s no smut in this piece, minors DNI. Domestic abuse, break up, humiliation, mutual pining, friends in love, drink driving, car accident, coma, chasing justice/vigilante attitudes, fairy tales, Disney, fluff, lots of angst, anger, guilt, happy ever afters
Prompt: Fairy tale
A/N: So this is my contribution to the 500 follower writing challenge hosted by @tom-whore-dleston It’s a new one for me because I’ve had to use a fairy tale for this one. So I’ve tried to use the fairy tale to feed into a modern situation and at the same time reflect that the same fairy tale has importance to the reader. Sleeping Beauty is an important one to me as the first feature length Disney cartoon I watched, and I was in awe of it.
This hasn’t been beta read and all of my mistakes are my own. Please feel free to like, comment and/or reblog as I look forward to feedback and interacting with people who choose to read my work. I appreciate you all. I hope you enjoy it.
She was Steve’s. The point being ‘was’. Where was he now as she lay in the hospital bed in a coma? She was Steve’s but he never really cared for her. He picked her as the perfect smoke screen and made everyone believe he was in love. She was Steve’s, it was the excuse that always stopped Bucky from admitting his true feelings for her. She was Steve’s, the line she repeated in her head like a mantra even though she didn’t love him, she loved someone else and was terrified of Steve. She was Steve’s until he decided it was right for him and Peggy to go public by breaking up with Y/N via a Snapchat post, not even a one-to-one message but a post of him and Peggy while saying ‘Y/N, I got myself a real woman’ and it was posted for all to see. She was Steve’s no longer and was fighting for her life after a drunk truck driver careered into her car.
Bucky hadn’t left her side, the symphony of beeps from various machines stopped the silence creeping in and forming negative thoughts and nightmares of worst possible outcomes in his mind. She couldn’t die, he couldn’t lose her. She was his safe haven in a world that had become darker than he’d ever anticipated. Nat and Sam walked into the room and sat with Bucky. Nat handed him a cup of coffee from the nearby coffee shop instead of getting the mud in a cup from the hospital vending machine. He accepted it gratefully with a swift nod and looked back over to Y/N. She looked like she was peacefully sleeping. Blissfully unaware of the situation she was in, you could be forgiven for thinking she was in a complete state of calm. Sam placed a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder.
“Buck, you’ve been here since the accident happened three days ago. You need to go back to the compound, get some sleep” he advised. Shrugging him off with a light scoff, he took Y/N’s hand in his, rubbing her fingers softly with his thumb.
“If she wakes up, I need to be here for her” he insisted.
“What good to her are you if you are too tired to function?” Sam spoke quietly.
“Sam’s right Bucky, you need to sleep. We’ll be here if she wakes up. Sam will call you straight away as well” Nat offered seeing the pain in Bucky’s eyes. The internal fight to stop tears flowing because she looked helpless and fragile.
“But I should be here” Bucky tried to push.
“I know she’s your best friend, but she’d understand that-”
“You don’t get it Sam, she’s not just my best friend, I love her Sam. I’m in love with her!” he kept his voice low, but it was strained as though he was arguing. Sam’s eyes panned. He was about to speak when Nat walked over to Bucky.
“Buck, listen to me, what would Y/N tell you to do?” she asked firmly.
“To… to go home and sleep,” he sounded defeated and shook his head, “fine, I’ll go” he conceded, “but you must call me instantly if she wakes up” he instructed. Nat agreed and sent him out to the waiting car to be taken home.
Nat sunk down on the chair in the corner of the hospital room. Sam was still processing Bucky’s words. How had he missed it?
“You know it was obvious right” Nat said laughing at Sam’s inability to realise Bucky’s feelings towards Y/N were deeper than he’d anticipated. “She’s in love with him too, but she thinks he doesn’t see her that way”
“She was with Steve though” Sam countered looking even more confused.
“No, he coerced her into a relationship where he was bullying and abusing her. The trouble is no one wanted to say or do anything to stop it except Bucky. Even I was at fault there. She needed us and we let her down. I mean don’t you remember the quiz night Tony held with us where we were in teams of two and had to answer questions about each other to see who really was a perfect match” she chuckled at the memory. Sam’s smile spread across his face as he recalled that night…
Tony sat back looking all smug as yet another duo failed to get more than 10 out 15 in the ‘How Well Do You Know Your Partner?’ game. In all fairness he was teamed with Pepper, but the others were teamed with friends. Bruce and Thor did pretty well achieving a solid 10, Wanda and Vision got 11 and Nat scored 11 with Clint. Sam was teamed with Rhodey and scored a 7. Originally Y/N wasn’t going to play. Steve was off on yet another ‘solo’ mission (a jaunt to Peggy’s) but everyone convinced her to take part and she agreed to work with Bucky, her best friend. She leaned into him, putting her face on his shoulder as she laughed uncontrollably at Peter scoring 5 with T’Challa. It was almost as bad as the 2 Y/N scored with Steve last time they played. Tony rubbed his hands together all excited as he sat forward.
“Y/N do you and Tin Man actually think you’ll beat mine and Pepper’s score of 13?” he was so confident. Y/N and Bucky looked at each other with a smile.
“We’ll give it a shot Tony. Friday has our answers and is ready to reveal them with each question asked”
“Let’s make it interesting” Tony beamed. Bucky looked at him with confusion.
“What do you have in mind?” Bucky quizzed.
“If you score higher than me and Pepper you will win two thousand dollars. If we have higher than you, then you and Y/N will be responsible for dinner for everyone for a whole week” he offered.
“You’re on” Y/N grinned.
Question after question was fired, each one was a correct answer. Question 10 came and went, then 11 and 12 all correct. Nat was enjoying her role as quizmaster for the couple and witnessing the faces on others as the responses kept coming back with a ‘ding’ from Friday.
“Question 13 – if going on a date, what physical preparation is made to show they expect sex?” Nat’s words were met with ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaahhhs’ knowing this was quite an intimate ask. Silence fell upon everyone as they looked on at Y/N and Bucky. They were deep in thought and glanced at each other. Bucky’s lips curled into a cocksure smile as Tony waved them off with a scoffing laugh thinking there was no way they’d equalise.
“When Bucky goes on a date and is hoping to have sex he puts on extra cologne, brightens his teeth and ensures he has brand new underwear that doesn’t look like it’s got that washed and owned for a while look” she revealed.
“Friday?” Nat called for clarification. Friday dinged again and showed Bucky’s written response that was almost word for word. Bucky now needed to respond with the right answer to get the 13th point.
“Y/N will wear black underwear” he answered simply, watching her blush. As Friday dinged yet again, Tony’s eyes widened in shock as some of the other Avengers were equally as surprised. This wasn’t necessarily something all best friends knew.
“Question 14 – what would you want your wedding song to be?” Nat questioned.
“Bucky would pick Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller” Y/N didn’t even waste time and her reaction was met with Bucky letting out a laugh as he pulled Y/N to him and placed a kiss on her forehead. Friday confirmed the answer and Bucky divulged Y/N’s being From This Moment by Shania Twain. Y/N’s grin was so bright knowing he’d got the answer. They got to the last question and were currently 14 for 14. Steve stormed in interrupting them and demanding Y/N go with him. He was shouting at her saying she was an embarrassment. Dragging her away from everyone, people heard Y/N begging Steve to stop hurting her wrist. Her bruises the next day were proof that he stopped hurting her wrist and hit her elsewhere leaving her with a black eye and bruised ribs. She didn’t spend time with the rest of the Avengers for the next few days. Bucky had caught a glimpse of her and had a confrontation with Steve which ended up in more bruises for Y/N. Bucky’s heart was heavy with guilt and pain. He loved her more than anything and this was killing him. What he didn’t realise is that every tear she shed, every prayer she made was to let her out of her hell with Steve so that she could find some way of spending more time with Bucky and telling him of her feelings. With each passing day, new strike and inky bruise, she feared the day would never come…
Bucky tried to sleep, he tossed and turned in his bed. He knew that he’d promised to rest but he couldn’t get his mind off Y/N. Lying on his back, he rested his forearm over his eyes. The thin white bedsheet clung to him like a second skin as it sat over his legs and waist. He was angry at Steve. Angry at himself and angry at the drunk driver who only came away with a few scratches and a fractured finger while Y/N was in a coma, had suffered a ruptured spleen and a broken leg. He hated seeing her in pain, any kind of pain. She’d been through enough at the hands of Steve. He remembered seeing the bright smile on her face when Steve broke up with her. He was furious that Steve did it in a way to humiliate Y/N, but she just grinned at Bucky. He was trying to hide his fury at Steve. Y/N’s smile melted his heart but what disintegrated his tension were the words she whispered when he hugged her. She simply stated ‘I’m finally free’. How could he not be happy for her when she was relieved to be free from the violent clutches of Steve. It made him think of how she spent that night. Everyone was rallying around her in absolute concern.
Y/N sat on the sofa in the community lounge just flicking through a magazine as Wanda and Nat came in and sat either side of her. She looked from side to side at the women who were like Cheshire cats with the way they were grinning at her.
“You should come out with us tonight” Wanda suggested.
“Why?” Y/N asked slowly.
“After Steve’s actions, you need to get out there, show him what he’s lost out on” Wanda was trying to ensure Y/N wasn’t going to crumble, worried that Steve may have had some emotional hold on her.
“Or just have a good old-fashioned night out with the girls” Nat chimed in trying to steer the conversation away from Steve. Y/N closed the magazine and put it on her lap as she sighed.
“Nat, Wand I love you both. I really do but I’m fine. All I want is a night in, just relaxing watching a movie or something in the knowledge that everything is my choice” she explained to them. Disappointment flashed on Wanda’s face while Nat accepted Y/N’s response and patted her hands supportively to let her know they were there if she needed them. As they left Y/N to it, Bucky entered the room and joined Y/N on the sofa, he put his arm around Y/N, and she put her head on his shoulder.
“So what’s the movie choice tonight sugar-plum?” he asked.
“You can pick it, or we can watch the game tonight. It’s the Ravens versus the Falcons and you know I’m a Ravens girl” she chuckled.
“Game it is, I’ll order the pizza” he informed her. It wasn’t long before Sam and Clint joined them and were cheering the Falcons. Bucky couldn’t help but taunt Sam as he had to pay Y/N fifty dollars when the Ravens won. The conversation among the four of them drifted to cartoons and Disney, with Clint declaring how sick he was of Frozen. Likewise, Sam was fed up with Toy Story as his youngest nephew seemed to love watching it over and over. They then started talking about their first Disney film. Bucky revealed it was Snow White and he took Rebecca to see it, he was fascinated by the animation while Rebecca was in love with the story of a hero saving the day. Sam divulged that his was the Fox and the Hound and that, as a kid, he was convinced that the Owl was voiced by his auntie. Clint expressed his love for Robin Hood and proceeded to sing the theme tune that Y/N and Sam joined in with, reminiscing over the classic. Y/N then sat back and told of her first experience watching a Disney cartoon. It was Sleeping Beauty. It remained a favourite of hers because she felt that Aurora and Prince Philip had been destined to be together. He saw her when she was a baby, then met her in the woods where they sang and danced together. It was a love at first sight kind of thing and then he risked his life to rescue her. Bucky intently listened observing every little gesture she made. He felt butterflies at seeing her so free, so happy and so involved in a group chat. The dark cloud that once hung over her had been lifted and this was the true Y/N shining in front of him. He knew in that moment he would have to tell her how he felt. He didn’t just love her as a friend, he had fallen helplessly in love with her. But as fate would have it, the day he was planning to tell her was the day he received the news of her car accident…
Nat and Sam had sat by Y/N’s bed, nothing had changed. The machines beeping were like harpies screeching as they fought to take the life of their victim. Sam hated sitting there and knowing nothing could be done. He checked his phone and looked over to Nat.
“The driver has been released on bail. He is claiming that he was drinking to numb the pain of betrayal and heartache and that Y/N was driving erratically as he hit her. Andy has sent me the details of the guy” Sam spat with disgust. Nat almost twitched at the news.
“When Bucky gets here, I have something to take care of that you might want in on” she informed him.
“Does it involve dealing with this asshole?” Sam raised his phone indicating the drunk driver.
“Time for you to learn the art of creative termination Sam. Sometimes it needs to be done” her icy tone was enough to scare most people. Coupled with the look of hate in her eyes, Sam knew there was no talking her out of it. She loved Y/N like a sister and seeing Y/N in the state she was in was killing Nat.
Bucky arrived at the hospital again, he looked refreshed but felt disheartened by the lack of news regarding Y/N’s progress. He watched Nat and Sam leave and pulled the chair right up to the bed. He sat down and clutched her hand in his and began to tell her the story of Sleeping Beauty in hope that she might wake up. The doctor had told him that talking to Y/N would help because studies showed coma patients could hear people talking to them. He felt his heart lurch as there was no real response. He knew what he had to try. He had thought about it non-stop on the way to the hospital. He got up and sat next to Y/N on the bed. Holding her hand in his, he took a deep breath as he gazed down at her. Even in her fragile state, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear this. I… I… I hope you can,” he stuttered. “The day you were brought in here I… I was planning to tell you something,” he took a deep breath as he paused. “You see, ever since I’ve been back from Wakanda, you’re the only person who really goes all out to make time for me. You have spent time getting to know me and have become my best friend. I can’t and don’t want to ever imagine a life without you in it,” tears pricked the corners of his eyes at the mere thought of her no longer being around. “I remember watching you talk about Sleeping Beauty; you were so carefree I just wanted to kiss you and tell you how much I love you. And that’s the thing Y/N, I’m in love with you” the lump in his throat could be heard as he could no longer stop rogue tears from rolling down his cheeks; he sniffled and tried to wipe his tears away before continuing to speak. “The way you bite your lip when nervous, the way you softly smile and tilt your head when you’re listening to me talk after a nightmare, the way you hug me and reassure me when I’m having a panic attack, the way you kneel down and talk to children putting yourself at their level to make them feel at ease, your never-ending compassion and the time you make for all of us. It’s all those little things and more that I love. I’m sorry I didn’t do more to protect you from Steve. If you wake up and if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives together showing you that you are my princess and how much I love you. Just please, please wake up. I need you Y/N” his tears flowed as he bared his soul to the unconscious woman.
He leant down and placed his lips on hers in a tender chaste kiss. As he sat up, he observed her. Nothing. He knew he was being irrational hoping it would make a difference but the romantic in him had to try. That’s when he felt it – a slight twitch of her fingers. It happened again and her eyelids began to move, immediately Bucky pressed the button to call for a nurse. Rushing in, the nurse saw what was happening and called for a doctor.
He paced the floor waiting outside her room. He tried not to get his hopes up. He’d read of several cases where a patient would seemingly wake up but end up having a fit before their heart would give out. He wasn’t one for praying but he prayed that this wasn’t the case. He began to overthink it all. What if she could hear him but not being able to respond would result in a said fit and heart failure? What if he’d just killed the woman he truly loved? His mind was ruminating over the same thoughts over and over until the doctor came out.
“Sergeant Barnes” he enquired to get his attention. Bucky rushed to him instantaneously. The doctor could see all the questions and fear in Bucky’s eyes that he was struggling to manifest into words. “Y/N is awake and is asking for you. Her voice is rather weak, be patient with her. Give her some time as she is trying to make sense of things. The nurse is making her comfortable. Is there anyone I need to call?” he asked as Bucky’s face was awash with happiness.
“I… erm Wilson, Sam Wilson or Natasha Romanoff” he fumbled with his words anxious to see Y/N. The doctor nodded at him and let him into Y/N’s room.
She was propped up against the headrest. She looked weak but as she saw Bucky, her sunshine smile lit up the room. He sat next to her on the bed facing her. Their gaze was locked, and she nodded at his unspoken question as to whether she was ok.
“You’re… you’re awake” his voice almost a whisper.
“Because of you. I heard you Buck, I felt the kiss and I love you too, so much. Whenever Steve would drag me away, I just wanted to be with you. Safe in your arms. You are my everything Bucky” she croaked. He clutched her hands and kissed her knuckles before leaning towards her and kissing her with restrained passion so that he wouldn’t hurt her given her current health status.
“I love you Sleeping Beauty” he beamed, the love in his eyes just radiating.
“I love you too Prince Charming” she responded in kind as Bucky promised her that he’d make sure they have their own happily ever after.
Summary: Caught in an anti-hero demonstration, you become an unwilling participant in a political game of tug of war. Tony Stark wants you to be the new poster child for his pro-Avengers rhetoric, Nick Fury wants you to fade into the background, and Bucky Barnes… wants something else from you entirely.
Warnings: Near Death Experience, Noncon, Stalking, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Smut, Breeding, Infidelity, Dark!AU, Grey/Dark Avengers AU,
A/N: i can only hope y’all are as excited to read this next chapter as i am to share it with you. i’m so happy to be back in the Rattler-verse!! bottom divider by @firefly-graphics.
The work below is my own, and is unbeta’d and unedited. I do not consent for it to be translated and or posted elsewhere by anyone but myself. Minors, DNI!
The makeup artist spritzes you with something, telling you to close your eyes just before the droplets make contact with your skin. You’ve never been much for makeup, and so when Tony asked if you’d like someone to “get you camera ready”, you’d said yes without a second thought. Now though, as she spun you in the chair and positioned you like a doll, you were beginning to regret it.
“Just stay still, yes?” She says sternly in her thick accent. “Spray need time to set.” She seems rather busy, flitting around the little room with the nervous energy of a hummingbird. “No touch face,” she warns, waggling a finger at you. “I be back.”
You count to ten before opening your eyes nervously, expecting to see Svetlana waiting with her arsenal of make-up brushes, but instead, you see Bucky. Leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his eyes cloudy and unreadable.
“Oh,” you can’t help the sharp intake of breath as you raise your hand to your chest in surprise. “S-Sorry. I was expecting…” You trail off. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He says. “I’m just first on guard duty.” The smile he gives you is unsure, like he doesn’t know whether it’s okay to make a joke or not. He reaches out a hand for you to shake, and you take it, noting the warmth and whir of machinery under your touch.
“Ah.” You tap your fingers against the arms of the chair you’re in, unsure of what to say. You don’t know if you should bring up that you remember him, remember what he did—he didn’t seem too comfortable with it in the hospital room, and you’re loathe to invite the dislike of one of the people tasked with your protection.
“I um, I just, God, sorry this is awkward. I wanted to say thank you. Um. For saving me. I’m going to say it, you know, out there, but I thought it might be more meaningful if you, um. Heard it from me personally first.”
It isn’t quite surprise that graces Bucky’s ; features, his eyebrows rising up his forehead. More like incredulity, like he hasn’t really ever been thankedbefore.
“You’re welcome.” He says after a moment, like he’s trying to figure out just how to respond. “I know Tony can be pushy.” He rolls his eyes, and it makes you laugh. “But thank you. For what you’re doing.”
You’re still not sure about it, and the thought of standing in front of the press is starting to make your hands clammy. A nervous laugh bubbles from your lips.
“I wouldn’t thank me yet. I’m not the best public speaker.” You fix Bucky with a wry smile. “There’s still time to find someone better, I think.”
“You’ll do fine, doll. Just… pretend they’re not there. Would it help if I stood in the audience?” He asks, a small smile on his full lips. “Make it like you’re talkin’ to me. Not them.” His suggestion brings a shy heat to your cheeks—that’s the kind of thing Pat would have suggested, if he’d been able to get the time off from the nursing home to make it, anyway.
“Yeah, actually. You’d do that? I thought you were just supposed to like, keep people from stabbing me, sort of thing,” You joked, and he laughed.
“I can do that from the audience, doll. Your guy’s got nothing to worry about.” He jerks his head towards the modest oval cut diamond on your left ring finger. “Already saved you once, figure I’ve got a pretty good track record.”
You laugh, and it surprises you because it’s actually real. You’d been worried they would all be like Tony, plastic and terrible and fake,but Bucky seemed… nice, despite his kind of checkeredpast. You’re about to say something else when Svetlana clears her throat behind him. Her foot taps impatiently against the expensive tile as she glares at him.
“Move, metal man. I finish her now.”
Bucky holds his hands up placatingly. “I’m goin’, I’m goin’. I’ll be right outside if you need me to,” he pantomimes a chokehold, and you stifle a giggle. He seems… relieved, like he’d been on guard—and you had to admit you had been too.
Maybe this won’t be so bad.
It wouldn’t be so terrible to come out of this with a friend—maybe one that would enjoy Patrick’s four hour Call of Duty sessions more than you did.
When Svetlana finishes your makeup, you’re sandwiched between her and Bucky all the way backstage. You swallow nervously at the sight of Tony Stark, locked in a particularly heated conversation with Nick Fury—who didn’t look happy.
“—options? Creating your own propaganda machine just the next logical step?”
“It’s not propaganda if it’s true. You know we can’t afford another Germany, not now—”
“Buck! And the guest of honor, I presume.” Steve Rogers steps directly into your field of vision, a hand outstretched for you to shake. “Nice to see you again.” You finagle your crutches until you can balance long enough to shake it firmly. His wife peeks out from behind him, and Steve wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “No need to be shy, sweetheart.”
You watch her give a strained smile. “Nice to meet you.” She’s heavily pregnant—likely about to pop any day now. You recall the news headlines from just months prior, the news footage of Captain America pulling his beloved wife from the firey wreckage of the accident.
I wouldn’t want to be here after that, either.
Steve presses an affectionate kiss into her hair. “I’m going to go find a place for this one to sit down. Shouldn’t be on her feet too much.”
“No, I shouldn’t,” she echoes softly, before giving you a genuine smile. “Good luck out there.” Her eyes flick to Steve and then back to you. “You’re in the snake pit, now.” You can’t ask her what she meant before Steve places a firm hand on her shoulder.
He steers her away, and you glance at Bucky. There’s a strange sort of… longingin his gaze as he watches them go, and you wonder if he has anyone to go home to. You only have a few seconds to ruminate on it, though, before Tony Stark’s wide grin is all you can see.
“Thank you for coming, thank you.” He looks genuinelypleased, at least. “I trust Sunshine here’s given you the rundown?” Tony jerks his thumb at Bucky, who simply glowers in his direction.
“Yeah. I go up there and utterly humiliate myself in front of the city and probably the whole world,” you mutter, wiping clammy palms against the dark blue fabric of your dress.
“You’ll do fine, kid. Can’t be harder than getting shot, right?” He claps you on the shoulder, and you swallow the urge to shove his hand away. You’re queasy enough as it is without the additional conflict.
Tony takes the stage before you do, and his solemn expression is reflected on the many screens all around the room. He’s used to press conferences, you can tell—he knows exactly where to look. It’s hard for you to concentrate on his introduction as you shift in your chair, waiting anxiously for him to pass the baton to you.
You wish Pat was here—he would know what to say, what to do to make these nerves nothing more than an unpleasant tingle in your chest. No, Pat is at work, again,and it’s yourfault. You clench your fists against your thigh, and try to take deep breaths. Slow, in through your nose and out through your mouth.
“You okay?” Even though his hand is made of metal, Bucky rests it lightly on your shoulder. “You need water, or something?” He looks up toward the stage, where you can see Tony’s back as he gesticulates, the same serious expression still painted onto his features. “Hate these things.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I’m… well, you know.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Winter Soldier, and all.”
You nod your understanding. “No, I, um. I get it.” Bucky’s smile is small, but grateful.
“Say the word, and I’m your man in the crowd, doll.” He reminds you, just as Tony turns and gestures to you.
“It’s time,” he mouths the words at you, just in case his clear signals weren’t enough.
“Yes, please. Do that.” You huff out a breath as you situate your crutches under your arms and hobble over to the short set of steps. There’s a podium, and a little red stool beside it, which you gratefully sit on. There are so many people, cameras flashing—your heart thuds in your chest faster than an oncoming train.
And then you spot him. Close to the front, in the middle, his arms folded but there, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Thanks Bucky.
You’d missed Tony’s introduction entirely, but you don’t really need it—hands immediately begin popping up as you settle yourself on your seat, and hesitantly, you call on one of the first reporters you see.
“Yes?”
She stands a little taller, raising her microphone above the crowd. “In your own words, what happened on April 17th?”
“I, I, um—” You glanced down at Bucky and tried to remind yourself you were just talking to him. A casual conversation between friends. “I’m an art history student. Masters. So I am—I was,”you correct yourself, “at the Museum a lot. I think I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, because I was in the exhibit room Adrian Kettleton locked himself in when he came to make his demonstration.
I don’t know what happened before he started shooting. But when he did… everyone was on the ground. There was a lady there w-with kids,” your throat goes tight, and blindly, you grasp for the microphone. “S-sorry, I, um, I need a minute.” You turn away from the reporters, cover your face with your hands, and tryto breathe deep. What would Pat say?
“It’s okay, babe, take all the time you need.”
You wait until your heart is steady again before you lower your hands
“Kettleton opened fire, and he said this would all be over soon. That the cops would show up and that—” You choked back a sob—“only a few people would have to die.” You hadn’t even really talked about this with Pat, leaving it for the insurance-provided therapist to untangle. He shot two people before me while the police tried to talk him down, and…” Bucky nods encouragingly at you from the audience.
“Then the Avengers showed up. I… I had already been shot, but… I would be dead if they weren’t there.”
You’re not sure if you did what you were supposed to do, Bucky’s face is passive, and you can’t really look behind you to gauge Tony’s reaction. A man in the front raises his hand, and you point at him.
“So what you’re saying is, the police were ineffectual?”
You frown. “N-no, I didn’t say that, I said—”
“You said that the Avengers showed up. You’d already been shot, isn’t that right?”
You press your lips together into a frown. “Yes. Yes that’s right. But I’m notsaying the police were ineffectual. I’m saying that the Avengers saved my life.”
“I see.” You wonder how far he’ll run with that, how far they’ll allrun with it, but several more hands jump into the air, and your heart beats faster at the sight of them.
“Do you believe the shooting in Texas and the one in Shanghai are related?”
“Did you know Adrian Kettleton prior to the shooting? You both attended NYU, only a few years apart.”
“Your father shares some anti-hero sentiment, how does he feel about this?”
You’re dizzy as Tony helps you from the stage, camera flashes still seared into your retinas.
“You did good, kid. Real good.”
—
“It’s not that bad.” Patrick’s voice is wheedling through the bathroom door. You’d gotten home a few hours ago, and had been grateful to spend your evening binging the shows you’d missed with Patrick on his night off—
Until your phone began blowing up with clips of you,at the press junket. Different news stations had grabbed different parts, zeroing in on everything. Your speech, your movements, your hair, your clothes—
Rita: you seeing this?
Your little sister had attached a screenshot of a twitter thread, and you huff out a frustrated breath as you glare at it.
“It’s not you they’re publicly dissecting,” you moan. It’s not justyour friends and sister sending you things, it’s your socials—your twitter mentions are numbering in the tens of thousands, and your facebook friend requests look about the same. Your private instagram account has seven thousand follow requests, and you scroll through them all with your heart in your throat.
There are people calling you a liar, a con artist, claiming the Avengers were in on it, that they’d paid you to take a bullet. There were people claiming you’d never even been shot at all, which in and of itself was laughable. There were more, kinder folks, sending you well wishes, along with bots attempting to hawk you miracle remedies and diet teas.
A disaster.
“You know there’s someone claiming to be my third grade teacher?” You lament. “Which, if that really isMiss Hayes, makes me feel like shit because she called me a petulant little drama-queen.” Patrick sighs, and you can feel the weight of it through the door.
“One, I doubt that’s her because she would be like, ancient now, and probably not on twitter at all. And two—” The sound of the intercom buzzing cuts him off, ringing loudly through the apartment. You can practically hear the frown in Pat’s voice. “Who the hell…? I’ll be right back.” He clamors away from the door, and you get to your feet, brushing a few cat hairs from your leggings.
“Oh. I just, I guess we didn’t know you were coming. Starting tonight? Okay. Hold on, I’ll buzz you up.”
You poke your head out of the bathroom door in time to see Patrick unlocking the front door at the far end of the long hallway.
“You didn’t tell me you were supposed to have bodyguards,” he shout-whispers at you. “Your first shift is here. I think it’s all the press stuff.” You pad down the hallway to peek around Patrick, listening to the sound of heavy footfalls coming up the narrow stairs to your apartment.
Bucky’s chestnut hair comes into view first, and then his dark, steel blue eyes light on yours and he smiles.
“Hey, there, dollface.” Your face warms as Patrick’s grip tightens almost imperceptibly on your upper arm. “Sir.” He nods to your fiancé in greeting, and Pat relaxes a little.
“I thought I only needed someone, you know. During the speaking engagements,” you say, stepping aside to allow Bucky into the apartment. Patrick locks the door behind him, his face a bad mask of good-will. He isn’t happy about Bucky being here, but the both of you know he’d deposited Tony’s check yesterday—there was little he could do about it now other than ride it out.
“Some of those folks online are saying some pretty nasty things. Thought it might be a good idea for one of us to be close by in case anything happened.” He doesn’t step further inside than the foyer, like he’s trying to make it clear he knows he doesn’t belong. “I can stay out in the hall if it’s a bother.”
“No, of course not.” You know Patrick would have told him that was fine—male pride—but it isn’t, not for you. “You came to protect me, the least we can offer is the couch.”
You hobble around after Patrick, helping set up the couch for your unexpected guest. Bucky doesn’t intrude, toeing off his boots in the entry way and hanging his jacket on the hook while he waits.
“Thank you. I’ll just knock out here.” He lays down on the couch, folding his arms behind his head. You and Patrick retreat awkwardly into the bedroom, and he turns on a random show on Netflix to cover the sound of his whispered frustration.
“It’s just, you’d think they’d tell us something like that could be a possibility.” He runs a hand through his curly hair. “It’s just… It’s a little scary, I guess.”
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted me to go sign up for this,” you shoot back. Patrick relents, throwing his arms up and heaving an irritated sigh.
“I hate when you’re right.”
“You just hate that I think things all the way through,” you mutter, punching his arm. “Now help me into bed.” You giggle as he sweeps you up, depositing you onto the bed. You haven’t slept with Patrick since you’d been home from the hospital, and he hadn’t pushed, but tonight when he kisses you, there’s intentbehind it that you can feel. You sigh against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup the side of his face.
There’s a dull thump and the sound of footfall— was the door always open a crack?— but living in a building this old means your life has a soundtrack of unexplainable noises, and so you dismiss it.
Pat is careful, his thrusts slow and shallow when he slides in, and you sink your teeth into your lip to hide your soft moan at his entry. He feels good, familiar inside of you, and he brings his thumb down to rub at your clit when he cums just before you can. You whine into your closed fist, your thighs trembling as your walls contract around his still hard cock. Pat makes a pleased noise low in his throat before he slides out of you, kissing the tip of your nose.
It feels like a walk of shame as you hobble to the bathroom to clean yourself up, but Bucky’s deep, steady breaths assure you of his slumber when you sneak back to bed. That’s ridiculous. I’m an engaged woman and this is my house.
You lay down next to Patrick, falling quickly into dreamless sleep.
Hazily, some hours later, you’re aware of the sound of his pager going off, and he shifts with a groan. You’re used to it, him being called in early for a shift, though you hate the loss of him. Your bed is warm and comfortable, even without Pat in it, and you fade softly in and out, time interrupted by the brief stretches of black behind your eyelids. Pat getting up—and then dressed—and then kissing you goodbye, his cologne tickling the insides of your nostrils.
“Bye babe,” he whispers, brushing his lips over the apple of your cheek. “Be back later.”
“Mmm,” is all you manage to mumble in response. Something clicks— the front door, maybe? You aren’t sure —and in the silence, you slip back into slumber. You’re dreaming of flying, and then— hands, rough, warm hands, no, one is cold, cold on your skin— you mumble sleepily.
“Pat?”
“Mmm,” he grunts from between your legs, his nose pushing up against the seam of your panties. He pushes up the hem of your t-shirt, and you feel the cool metal of his orderlies’s tags against your thigh before he moves them away, his lips dragging over the spot the’d just vacated. You’re so tired—the painkillers keep you woozy until at least mid-afternoon—your eyes are barely cooperating as Patrick attaches his lips to your clit through the thin cotton of your panties. His beard rasps against your thighs, burning against your skin deliciously.
You gasp, thighs tightening around his head. Two fingers edge beneath your panties, tugging them aside so that he can slide his tongue through your folds with an appreciative sigh. You drag a hand through his hair under the blanket, and Patrick chuckles huskily against your core.
“Feel good, sweetheart?”
His voice is off, somehow, too husky, too low, but the pressure of his fingers at your entrance pushes the thought from your head. The sweet burning stretch of them makes you keen, your hips bucking up toward his face. He doesn’t let up, and you squeal loudly as his teeth scrape against your sensitive clit, and he curls his fingers inside you.
“Go on and cum, sweetheart. S’alright.”
Youdo,your toes curling as tears leak out of the corners of your closed eyes. You whine as he wiggles his fingers inside your spasming cunt, drawing them out with an embarrassingly slick noise. There’s another sound, like he’s licking them clean, and he chuckles again.
“Sweet.”
—
You sit up in bed with a start, wincing at the pounding in your skull. The pain meds always make you feel hung over when you wake up, and today is no exception. A glance at the digital clock on the table tells you it’s after midday, and Pat’s side of the bed is long cold.
I must have slept through him leaving, again.
You slide out of bed, and your cheeks heat at the wetness between your thighs. You’d known Patrick missedsex, but you hadn’t thought he’d missed it that much. You couldn’t keep the little smile off of your face as you limped to the kitchen, and found Bucky seated at the table, a newspaper in hand.
“G’morning, sleepy head. Your honey left you some breakfast on the stove.” He jerked his head toward the plate on the bottom right burner. You lifted a corner of the paper towel, and saw he’d left you scrambled eggs, with a few slices of cheese on top. “He always leave so early?”
You popped the plate into the microwave, nodding.
“Yeah. They’re really short at the nursing home, so it happens a couple times a week. But if he left that early, he should be back—” Patrick’s key clicks in the door, and you laugh. “Right about now.”
You hear him kicking off his shoes in the entryway, before he pokes his head into the kitchen. “Oh, look, you’re up.”
“Blame the pills,” you grumble, grinning as he presses a kiss to your cheek. You run the backs of your knuckles over the smooth curve of his cheek, and you furrow your brow. “When did you shave?”
“This morning, before I left.” He cocks his head as you swallow thickly. “Why?”
Your eyes slide to Bucky, casually skimming the paper as he lifts a mug of coffee to his lips.
I am no longer maintaining taglists, my friends! Please follow @box-of-bones-library and turn on notifications to get updates about new fics, chapters, and drabbles! thank you!
Summary: You’ve seen many things and met many people on your travels, but nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the White Wolf and what he has planned for you. (70s AU)
Pairing: cult leader!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader
Word count:6,556
Warnings:Dubcon/noncon.Smut (fingering, oral f receiving, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex). Swearing. Descriptions of drug use and drugging. Forced body mutilation (branding). Manipulation and mentions of cult-like ideology. Use of pet names (angel). Bucky is dark and all kinds of crazy. (18+ only please).
A/N: This is my entry for @boxofbonesfic’s Spooktacular Smutfest challenge. I chose cult leader Bucky and the quote prompt “Why are you doing this?”, “Because I want to. Because I can.” which is in bold. A huge thank you to @sweeterthanthis for reading this and letting me scream at her about the idea. You’re amazing and ilysm. Gif found here. Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics. Please follow @gogolucky13-library for all writing updates. Happy reading!
The tops of your shoulders burn in the glaring light of high noon, your brow crinkling against the bright rays. Sweat beads along your hairline and layers on the back of your neck as the heat continues to rise. Aimlessly, you walk along the desolate dirt road; worn cowboy boots scuffing in the ground and creating small clouds of dust that swirl around your ankles.
You’ve been called many things over the years—a drifter, a wanderer, a stupid, fucking hippie.
Always on the move and never staying in one place for too long, you can’t say the names are wrong. But for years, it’s been the only life you’ve known since running off at the tender age of seventeen. Sometimes you don’t remember how you ended up somewhere or what state you’re even in, but it never matters to you; just so long as where you’re going isn’t where you came from.
Ughhhhh cult leader Bucky, come and put a brand on it. this was so hot and possessive and just the right amount of creepy. I loved this almost as much as I love you. Lol
I hope to dream of The White Wolf keeping me locked away in his cult cabin of love/doom. ❤️
Shame on him for drugging her but I still love him too ig
Author’s Notes: I’m challenging myself to write some fics using the list of 410 Smut Prompts that I came across from @devildomqueen. For my 300 followers, I’ve added a second challenge to make this particular fic gender neutral/inclusive. I’ve added a third twist to try to write this from Bucky’s POV. I really hope you enjoy it!!
Prompt: Do you like that?
“Hey, sweetheart! I’m home!” Bucky said, hanging his coat on the hook by the door, kicking off his heavy boots.
“Hey, baby.”
Bucky stopped dead in his tracks and took in the sight of a very naked you, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom. The curve of your hips, your rounded shoulders, your jawline… you were always such a sight to behold.
“Damn,” he whispered.
“Wanna have some fun?” you ask, raising your eyebrow at him.
“Do I ever,” he replied, his hand brushing over you hip. “What do you have in mind?”
“Follow me,” you said in a low, sexy tone, grabbing his belt buckle as you pulled him toward the bed.
“Holy shit,” he whispered softly.
You pushed him onto his back on your bed, his knees hanging over the edge of the mattress.
He could feel your hands sliding up his thighs, over his hips, across his stomach, and up his chest until you reached the open collar of his button-down shirt.
“Mmm, that feels good,” he said, closing his eyes.
Without warning, he felt his shirt rip open, buttons hitting the floor.
“Fuck, sweetheart! Someone’s hungry,” he said, reaching out to touch your face.
“You have no idea,” you said, licking his clavicle.
He could feel your warm tongue moving down his neck, chest and abs. The warmth of your tongue made him grow harder until he was straining against his jeans.
He felt your hands pull at his belt, the palm of your hand rubbing his hard length through the fabric.
“Fuuuuck, baby,” he moaned, “Feels… ung… so good.”
“Just wait, baby. I’m going to make you feel even better.
He whined a little as he felt your fingers slide into the waistband of his underwear. He breathed in slowly as he felt you slide his pants and boxers down his hips, your fingernails scratching his ass.
As soon as his hard cock springs free, he feels your warm hand gently grab the base.
“Ohhh!” he moans as your warm, wet tongue began to slide across his balls, you hand stroking the length of his cock gently, and so very slowly. He felt your fingers brush over the tip, and he sucked in a sharp breath. The feel of your hand and tongue all over him had him moaning your name before you even took his hard cock into your mouth.
“Y/n…” he breathed, his eyes rolling back slightly.
He felt you tease the tip of his cock with the tip of your tongue, and the sensation was driving him wild. He wanted to reach out and grab the back of your head, force himself into your mouth, but he resisted the urge, knowing full well you were taking his time for his benefit.
He moaned once more, and felt your hot breath as your mouth enveloped the top half of his length, your hand wrapped around the bottom.
“Fuck!” he moaned sharply, his head digging into the mattress.
He loved this part, feeling your mouth and tongue around his cock. He could feel you opening your throat to take him deeper, your wet mouth sliding up and down his cock in tandem with your hand.
When he couldn’t resist any longer, his hand found its way to rest at the back of your head. He didn’t want to push, just lay his hand on you.
He felt his length sliding in and out of your mouth, deeper and deeper into your throat. He could feel you gently sucking him in, and it was driving him wild.
His breath began to grow ragged, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He could feel the tightness growing in his balls as he began to moan louder and louder.
He felt your lips curl into a smile and his coil snapped, his warm cum shooting up his length and into your throat. He felt you swallow every last drop before releasing him with a quick slide, and he felt the sudden cold air hit his skin.
“Fuckin’A, baby,” he said, arms on the bed above his head.
“Do you like that? Do you like when I take control, Bucky?” you asked, curling up next to him on the bed.
“You know I do, sweetheart,” he replied, kissing your forehead.
“But now… it’s my turn…”
His wicked smile aroused you even more as he slid off the bed and onto his knees.
The windows of your apartment were open and a nice breeze was coming in, finally starting to cool off the hot kitchen after baking brownies and cooking homemade chicken dumpling soup, Bucky’s favorite.
Since it was so hot, and you were in a tank top and some short shorts, cleaning up the kitchen and waiting for Bucky to get back from his last mission. After the facetime fun you had the other night, you definitely could not wait to see him – and fuck him – again.
“Do I smell soup?”
“Bucky! You’re back!” you squeal and wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a long, deep kiss.
“Mmm… I missed you, Doll. But really… do I smell soup?”
“You and your stomach. Yes, you smell soup. Chicken dumpling, just for you, my love.”
He kissed your temple and grabbed the lid, removing it from the pot so he could breathe it in.
“Is it ready yet?”
“Not yet – I was thinking we’d have it for lunch. I’m going to let it simmer for awhile – really let that broth soak into the dumplings.”
“Well, okay. And brownies? You’ve been a busy girl, haven’t you?”
“Yes! Brownies for dessert.”
The timer beeped on the stove, and you jumped a little, clapping your hands.
“What is in the oven?!”
“Cinnamon rolls – I was craving them for breakfast, so I whipped up a batch after I took the brownies out. Perfect timing! Now you can have one with some coffee!”
“I could use some coffee. Sam snores soooo loud!”
You laugh, open the oven door and bend over to pull the cinnamon rolls out.
“Y/n! I’m loving the view, Doll.”
“Oh?” you ask, wiggling your ass a little bit.
Suddenly, you feel Bucky right behind you as you stand up, putting the pan of deliciousness on the stove top.
“Y/n…If you don’t change out of those shorts and into some pants, I’ll have them around your ankles by lunch,” he breathed in your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Bucky,” you giggle, turning to face him, “I don’t think you have the balls to do something that bold.”
In one swift motion, Bucky pulled your shorts and panties down around your ankles and backed you up against the counter.
“You know better than to underestimate me, Doll,” he growled, lifting you up and dropping your bare ass onto the counter top. He kissed your lips feverishly, his tongue flicking yours time with his fingers moving around your clit.
You moaned into his mouth, fingers in his hair, pulling gently as he moved to kneel before you.
When his tongue flicked your clit, you drew in a sharp breath as a chill ran up your spine. His arms wrapped around your thighs to keep your legs spread wide before him. You could feel his tongue moving up, down, side to side, in and out of you. He ate your pussy like a starving man eating his first meal in months. You screamed in pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a freight train.
You gasped audibly as he stood quickly, pulling his pants down, sliding his thick member into you swiftly. Your heart pounded in your chest as he pounded into you hard and fast. You moan loudly as your second orgasm builds, knocking a container of wooden utensils over behind you as you reach for anything you can to hold onto.
He pulls you close, forcing you to scratch your nails down his back as you let out a deep, guttural moan in his ear, gently biting down on his shoulder. The combination of feelings had his hips stuttering until he slammed into you one last time as he painted your walls with his spend, letting out a long grunt of satisfaction.
“Fuck,” he breathed out, pulling you off of the counter top slowly.
“That was…”
“So fucking hot,” he smiled, kissing your lips gently.
He grabbed a towel from the drawer next to you and wiped your inner thighs and his glistening cock before pulling up your pants and then his.
“Speaking of hot – you still want a cinnamon bun, Bucky?” you asked sweetly, reaching for a bun to put on a plate.
“Yes, and coffee, and then we’re doing that again!” he replied, slapping your ass.
“Oh, we are definitely doing that again, Buck. Definitely!” you flash him a wicked smile as you lick the icing off of your finger.
“You’re going to pay for that, sweetheart.”
“I’m counting on it,” you wink, setting the plate on the counter top, grabbing a mug for his coffee.
Warnings:18+ Only, NSFW, Language! Mutual masturbation, dirty talk, using tech for sex, just lots of smutty smutness.
Author’s Notes: I’m challenging myself to write some fics using the list of 410 Smut Prompts that I came across from @devildomqueen.
Prompt: I can’t sleep without you here
“How much longer are you going to be gone?” you whine, looking at the gorgeous face of your boyfriend on your laptop screen.
“Just a few more day, sweetheart. This press crap is killing me, but I know we need the good press right now, especially after what happened last month.”
“I know. Fucking Stark. You’d think he’d learn after Ultron.”
“Doll, after Ultron, there was Vision. Probably thought that’s what he was going to get. But yeah, you’d think one killer robot invasion would keep him in line.”
“I miss you, Bucky. I’m so tired!”
“Then you should get some sleep, sweetheart.”
“I’ve tried, but I can’t sleep without you here.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Because I don’t get any lovin’ when you’re gone. How am I supposed to sleep without an orgasm or two?”
“You could just masturbate, doll,” he smiled, leaning back on the hotel headboard.
“Is that what you do?” you chide.
“Sometimes,” he replied with a wink.
“Really? What happened to your 1940’s sensibilities?!” you laugh.
“Who’s to say I wasn’t always like this?” he laughed, putting one arm behind his head.
“Don’t look at me like that!”
“Like what, sweetheart?”
“All sexy with your bulging biceps and lack of shirt.”
“You’re one to talk, you in your little lace negligee. I’ve been hard since we started talking, doll.”
“Oh, well maybe we should do something about this,” you say, slipping one satin strap off of your shoulder.
“Mmm… you read my mind, doll. Hold on a sec. Let me put my phone down. I might wanna be able to use both hands.”
You giggled and positioned yourself in front of your laptop so Bucky could see everything, feet on either side of the machine.
“Wish I had my tablet, but this’ll work, he said, coming back into frame, “Glad you made me get this pop socket.”
“I told you it would come in handy.”
“Speaking of handy…” he said, pulling his shorts down just enough so he could pull out his hard, thick cock.
“Mmm, Bucky! I’m so wet right now,” you say, slipping the other strap off your shoulder, pulling your negligee down slowly over your breasts. The feel of the satin and lace made your nipples stand at attention.
“Fuck, such a pretty girl. All for me,” Bucky said in a low, gruff voice, as he began to lightly stroke himself.
“All for you, baby,” you replied, slipping the negligee down your stomach and over your hips. As you push it past your ass, exposing your sex, you can hear him whimper. Smiling, you kick the nightie to the side and spread your legs for him.
“Fuck… I can see you glistening for me, doll. Damn, I wish I was there to taste you. So sweet.”
“I wish you were here to take care of me, Bucky,” you breathe, your hands grabbing your breasts, fingers pinching your nipples.
“C’mon sweetheart. Show me where you really want me. Show me where you want my tongue to taste you,” he said, discarding his shorts completely.
With one hand still on your breast, you let the other travel down your stomach to your soaking wet slit. You spread your sex for him, coating your fingers in your slick.
“Fuck, Bucky! I want you so bad!”
“Show me, sweetheart. Show me how I lick your clit. Show me what you like, doll.”
You begin gently circling your clit with one finger, a soft moan working its way up from your chest, slipping past your lips, as you lean back on your forearm, still playing with your nipple.
You apply more pressure as you slide your fingers up and down over the sensitive bud, quickening the pace.
“Fuck, doll! You look so beautiful, so perfect for me. Goddamn, that so fucking hot,” he says, stroking himself faster.
As you watch his hand moving over his cock, you add another finger and begin moving back and forth, hard and quick over your clit, the growing heat pooling in your stomach.
Panting and moaning, you feel the coil tighten, heart pounding, as you work yourself over feverishly.
“Look at you, doll. You’re a fucking mess for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Yes, Bucky! Yes!” you moan, your eyes closing, head falling back.
“Fuck, Bucky! I’m almost there,” you moan, fingers working faster and harder.
“That’s it sweetheart. Come for me,” he growled.
The coil snapped, your clit throbbing, a loud cry escaping your throat as you steadied your hand, applying heavy pressure to that one spot that felt so good.
“Fuck, doll – so beautiful. Look at me, sweetheart.”
You move your head and open your eyes to see him still stroking his thick, glistening cock.
“I know you’ve got another one for me, sweetheart. Show me. Show me where you want this cock.”
Quickly, you let your fingers dive into your dripping core, feeling them gliding in and out. You add a third finger, trying desperately to stretch yourself out the way Bucky would.
“Yes, Y/n. Just like that, doll. So fucking tight, aren’t you? So wet.”
“Feels so good Bucky,” you whine, arching your back to further expose your naked breasts to him.
“Fuck, doll, you are so gorgeous. Always feel so good to me,” he growls.
You can hear his breath growing ragged, stuttering slightly. You can tell he is close, and so are you.
“Bucky! Oh, baby! Feels so good!” you cry out, eyes trained on his hand gliding over his cock over and over, his other hand gently squeezing his balls.
“Fuck, Y/n… Fuck!” he growls as he spurts his hot cum all over his stomach.
That was enough to make you cum hard, feeling your walls tighten around your fingers.
“F-fuck…” you whisper-scream, tossing your head back, pulling out your fingers as you wet the sheets beneath you.
You both lay on your respective beds, panting and coming down from your highs.
Bucky grabbed a towel to clean himself up, watching you relax in front of him.
“You think you can sleep now, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly.
“Mmm,” you moaned curling yourself into a relaxed fetal position, propping your head on your hand, looking at him on your screen, “I think I might be able to fall asleep now, yes. That was…”
“Amazing. Hot. It was so sexy, Y/n.” he said, looking a little sleepy himself.
“It was. Gotta keep this in mind for the next time one of us is out of town.”
“Definitely. You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”
“Aww, Bucky. You’re so handsome and sexy.”
“But now I’m sad.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, now you don’t need me to give you orgasms anymore,” he smiled.
“Bucky! That was great, but nothing compared to the real thing. I’d much rather have you inside of me, but this is a decent place holder,” you say, wiggling your fingers at him.
Bucky threw his head back and laughed.
“That makes me feel better. I’ll see you in a few days, sweetheart.”
“I can’t wait to give you a proper homecoming. Good night, Bucky. Love you.”
“I love you too, doll,” he said, kissing the screen before ending the call.
Author’s Notes: I’m challenging myself to write some fics using the list of 410 Smut Prompts that I came across from @devildomqueen.
Prompt: Please don’t stop
You needed to relax, so you decided to do some yoga. You lit a few candles, put on some soft music, set up your yoga mat and put on your most comfortable yoga pants and sports bra.
You started in a seated position, focusing on your breathing.
“Inhale the good shit, exhale the bullshit,” you said to yourself.
You started moving through your sequence, focusing on your poses and breathing.
You were so focused, in fact, that you didn’t hear the knocking at your door, and you certainly didn’t hear Bucky open the door and enter your room. You didn’t notice until you saw a pair of black boots near your feet when you were in a downward dog pose.
“Oh! Bucky!” you yelped, falling to your knees, and sitting back on your thighs.
“Aww! Don’t stop, doll! I kinda like that position,” he winked.
“Bucky! I was trying to relax and you scared me!” you laughed.
“Sorry, doll. But if you reallywant to relax, I think I can help with that,” he said, raising an eyebrow at you, kneeling before you.
“Oh, you think so? What are you going to do to help me relax?”
“I have a few ideas,” he said, leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. Slowly, he began to easy you onto your back, kissing you more passionately, tongue slipping past your lips.
His hands traveled from your hips, up your sides, and over your breasts. He pulled the straps of your bra over your shoulders, exposing your bare chest.
A smile crept across his face as he looked at you, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. He leaned in and gently licked around one of your sensitive nubs, sucking it into his mouth and biting down gently.
A shiver ran down your spine as a sultry moan escaped your lips, your back arching toward him. You began running your fingers through his hair, pulling gently at the nape of his neck.
“Mmm, I love your fingers in my hair,” he said, trailing kisses down your stomach, his fingers curling under your waistband. He slowly pulled your pants down over your hips, down your thighs, past your knees, and over your ankles, taking your panties with them.
Licking his lips, he pulled you close to him, nipping at you hip. You squeal with delight as he traces your other hip bone with his tongue. Grabbing your thighs, he pulls your legs apart, kissing your hip. He looked up at you with lust-filled eyes as he slowly dipped his tongue between your wet folds, the tip dancing over and around your clit.
Your eyes roll back slightly as the sensation. This is your favorite part – the feeling of him absolutely worshipping your body, knowing you are being taken care of - your every desire at the mercy of his tongue. You know you can let go and he will be right there to catch you.
He knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, and it excites him all the more.
As he continues working between your legs, you can feel your breath quicken, your heart pounding, his tongue moving in and out of you, rolling around your clit, moving side to side and back in and out of you.
You begin to let go, every sigh and moan getting louder and louder as you lose control. You feel him smile and chuckle a bit as you begin to buck your hips, seemingly trying buck him right off of you, which only makes him hold on tighter and work faster.
Your legs are now over his shoulders as he grabs your ass, somehow pulling you closer to his face as he relentlessly flicks his tongue over your clit, refusing to let you go.
“Fuck… FUCK!” you scream, feeling him smile again as he buries his face deeper into your wet, dripping slit.
With a final scream, you cum hard, and you can hear the loud smack of his lips pulling your clit one final time. He slowly slides your body down his chest, careful not to let your ass hit the floor too hard.
“How was that, doll?” he asked, smiling, his hand slowly traveling up your thigh to your hip, resting on your belly. He kisses your stomach and lays his head down between your breasts and belly button.
Still panting, all you can say is “Holy shit, baby.”
“So it was okay then?” he said, resting a hand on your stomach, the other under the small of your back.
“More than, Bucky,” you sighed, eyes growing heavy.
Summary: On the run from his violent past, Bucky has sought refuge in a small town in Mexico where he enjoys the peace and quiet of not understanding a word of Spanish. A peace that is violently disturbed when he runs into the most annoying woman he has ever met.
Bucky can still hear the sound of his bone snapping even after he’s woken up.
“Fuck!” He hisses and clutches his chest, desperate to get the image of the grinning Hydra agent out of his head so his heart can relax.
The nightmares are always terrible but tonight’s horror reel had been about the first round of torture he’d ever gone through and he always has trouble calming down after that one.
“It’s not real,” he whispers to himself and rotates his eyes over the fix-points of his bedroom; the window in the ceiling, the crack in the back wall, the black curtain hiding away the night sky. “You’re in your bedroom,” he breathes, “you’re safe. You’re in your bedroom.”
Summary: On the run from his violent past, Bucky has sought refuge in a small town in Mexico where he enjoys the peace and quiet of not understanding a word of Spanish. A peace that is violently disturbed when he runs into the most annoying woman he has ever met.
Bucky can still hear the sound of his bone snapping even after he’s woken up.
“Fuck!” He hisses and clutches his chest, desperate to get the image of the grinning Hydra agent out of his head so his heart can relax.
The nightmares are always terrible but tonight’s horror reel had been about the first round of torture he’d ever gone through and he always has trouble calming down after that one.
“It’s not real,” he whispers to himself and rotates his eyes over the fix-points of his bedroom; the window in the ceiling, the crack in the back wall, the black curtain hiding away the night sky. “You’re in your bedroom,” he breathes, “you’re safe. You’re in your bedroom.”
Babe—BABE!! Are you kidding me with this?! Perfection
Bucky can still hear the sound of his bone snapping even after he’s woken up.
oh fuck you this whole scene was heartbreaking and I hate you
After watching her drunk and clearly not okay and thirsting over her for weeks this is what he comes up with to say—
“Hey - uh - how are you?”
Please!!! This killed me Bucky, king of being an awkward, horny, sweetheart.
Carefully, he starts undoing the small buckles around her delicate ankles while trying not to get too affected by the fact that her bare thighs are right in front of his eyes and he can fucking smell the heaven between her legs.
yaaaasss this, i’m screaming
Bucky almost gives out a sigh of relief at the satisfying look of her innocent beauty against the beast beside her.
This wins best line of the whole chapter. The sigh of relief gets me, like he’s subconsciously thinking about how she would look next to him, on his arm, and it’s a good look.
The rest of the chapter was perfect and made me so happy for him (and so sad and lonely, where is my Bucky?!).
I love the story she tells him about her brother and how she unknowingly is telling him that she understands and would never judge him or be afraid of him if she knew who he really was.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers…
“Don’t be,” he mumbles, “it’s not your fault.”
“It’s not yours either…”
That’s it, I’m done for, i’m simply a puddle of my own tears
THE KISS. Bucky is too adorable in that moment. Your ability to write such sweet innocent intimacy is something I really admire. You’re amazing
@natbarnes1917 I don’t even know what to say apart from the fact that I absolutely LOVE your comments ❤️❤️❤️ Bucky is so adorable and I just want to kiss him and hug him and make sure he feels good. this sweet, sweet man deserves the world and I will give it to him over and over and over again in fics. No hesitation!
So, so, so immensely happy that you caught the motorcycle reference to him weee, has me all giddy and excited!
— Summary: If religion was the safe haven where Bucky found reasons to be alive and see the good in this world again, loving you was where he found the freedom to be more than just expectations once again. Human emotion, connection and need more than anything else. Also, devotion. Bucky already understood that one, but with you, it reached heights he never dreamt of before.
— Word count: 7.5k
— Warning(s):This work is intended for 18+ audiences. Minors, DNI. Explicit depictions of sex. Religious theme. Smut. I do not allow for my work to be copied, translated, or reuploaded on any other platform.This whole monstrosity is @buckspumpkin ’s fault <3
From the moment he met her to the moment they befriended.
Every step of the way, every interaction, smile, deep conversation outside the church, random encounters in the city—Bucky knew it. He was aware of it, and yet, he did it anyway. He fell for the power in your voice, for the mind behind those eyes, for the soft and electrifying touch of your hands. Bucky was presented with temptation and he fought it until he longer wanted to. Until all that was left inside of him was desire, longing, and need. Temptation won, but only because there was no game anymore: Bucky was presented with you in his life, and for the first time in many long years, his life expanded once again.
From the moment Laura brought you to the Church’s congregation party for the holidays and introduced you, he knew he should stay away.
It was the eyes.
Laura pointed at you, and said, “Father, this is Y/n, my best friend who I’m always talking about.”
He had been polite back then. Bit down on his usual winning smile when meeting new people because something about the glint in your eyes hooked a piece of his chest when they met his.
Bucky had given you the polite smile, and said. “I’ve heard quite a lot about you. Nice to meet you, I’m Father James.”
He extended his hand, which you shook without breaking eye contact.
Then, you said: “Nice to meet you, Father,” and Bucky’s insides burned despite the cold weather surrounding him.
That day, he couldn’t escape fast enough.
You were a friend of one of his congregates, so there was no way he could be rude, but every time he glanced in the direction where you were, talking and smiling with other people who frequented the church, your eyes met his and Bucky felt like a deer caught in the headlines.
An animal in the jungle, like one of his favorite documentaries—he suddenly understood the prey when they felt the eyes of tigers and lions on them.
Frozen.
Bucky’s throat felt dry every time you did it. You looked at him over the rim of your cup, and it was like your eyes searched for something, and they could see beyond his cassock and coat.
Whatever you were looking for, Bucky wanted no part in helping you find out.
She’ll be gone by the end of the day, he thought all night long. There’s no need to worry.
If only he knew.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ — ✞ —
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It was a fun discovery to learn that while you believed in nothing, you believed in everything at the same time.
It took Bucky three months of meeting you outside the Church when you picked up Laura from the masses and having brief, but sweet exchanges with you to accept the fact that you were a really nice person.
Funny, intelligent, sweet.
He stopped escaping whenever you were around. Stopped running away whenever Laura brought you by force to one of the fairs or events, and surrendered with ease to the reality of it all: apart from your non-belief, you seemed like someone he’d be close friends with.
Which is where you two ended up after he found you drunk at the city square and walked you home.
That was the first conversation ice-breaker. And from then on, Bucky simply accepted you.
Which meant you know popped up outside the church with good beer and the newest thing you were reading about regarding space to talk to him.
For those visits, you usually showed up at the end of the day, after your work hours. You stayed for a couple of hours talking to him about nonsensical things until a real topic was approached and you two shared things that Bucky forgot he thought about sometimes.
“You know, these are starting to feel like my own confessional,” he offered.
You chuckled, hiding behind your beer. He still saw the way your nose scrunched. “I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a compliment or not.”
“It is!” He laughed. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Why wouldn’t—Father. C'mon. Those things are creepy as hell.”
“First of all: blasphemy. Second of all—stop laughing, I’m serious. That was very blasphemous.” He adored listening to your silly laughter. “And second of all: they are not creepy. They’re just… methodic.”
“Yeah, the method being ‘scare people until they talk’. I’ll give it to the Church: clever, at least.”
He’s thinking about that day and the things you said about the hour of Twilight when he hears the doorbell.
Bucky halts everything he’s doing.
It couldn’t be you.
He looks at the clock—00:52.
Fuck.
What were you doing here?
This week had been hell, both figuratively and literally.
The tragedy that happened in the city and the heartache that followed everyone like a dark cloud ended up inside his church, as darkness usually does. It’s where it goes to be diluted, but being the tool of change as he is, Bucky’s the one who ends up feeling like a truck ran over his back.
Itcouldn’t be you.
Bucky heard from Laura about how pissed off you were about everything. 'Religious people and their ways of meddling in people’s lives and their bodies and their ways of handling life’, as you claimed, and everything wrong attached to it.
He hadn’t seen you around the city all week long.
“James Buchanan!”
That is definitely your voice.
Bucky swears under his breath, puts on the first hoodie he sees, and doesn’t even bother checking on his reflection to know he looks like shit.
He’s tipsy and tired, and there’s no need to bother putting out his tobacco before he goes downstairs to open the back door for you.
Out of all the people who could see him in this state, you’d be the last one to judge him.
When he opens the door, he sees you’re on the same boat as he is.
Tired, and trying to cope.
He sighs, opening the door wider. “Thought you had eloped town by now.”
“I unfortunately am stuck to this hell hole.”
Turning around, he sees you taking off your boots and placing them on the shoe rack.
“Put on a slipper, it’s still wet outside,” he tells you. “I was going to bed.”
Behind him, he hears the sound of you scoffing. “No, you weren’t.”
“Yes, I was,” he argues.
What follows is silence, and Bucky sighs. You know him too well.
He opens the door that leads to his small herbs garden outside where two chairs are already placed next to each other and waits for you to make yourself at home.
He wonders if it’s one of thosedays.
“You know… you’re really nice to talk to, Father James.”
He kind of hated when you called him that. It felt teasing. Laced in the taste of wine.
“Do you?”
“I do. You don’t shy away from answering questions. People nowadays don’t wanna have conversations. It’s exhausting. You, though—you… think about it. Answer me. I can talk without feeling like I’m being judged—”
“Oh, sometimes you definitely are.”
He likes your laughter. The more it sounds like this—free and caught off guard, the more delicious it is.
“I’ll take your word for it.That was just me wanting to thank you for being a nice ear, I guess.”
“The same goes for you.”
It’s becoming more and more common for Bucky to be stuck in a memory of you before reality calls him back to the moment.
The door clicks behind him and he looks over his shoulder to see you holding two beers, a cigarette in one hand, and the tiredness in your shoulders.
Dropping your body to the chair next to his, you hand him the beer and then light up your cigarette.
For a while, all you two do is sit there sharing sips of your drinks and looking at the brick wall ahead of you. Bucky’s hyper-aware of you and your movements, as always, and notices from the corner of his eyes when you start distracting yourself with the new flowers in his garden.
It’s when he sees a single tear running down your cheek that his body comes alive.
Bucky feels alert in a second.
Sick to his stomach.
He wants to reach out and clean the tear from your cheek, but it wouldn’t take away the pain that let it fall.
He waits, though, because he knows you wouldn’t be here unless you wanted to talk about it.
Then it hits him—she trusts me.
He has to swallow that pill down with large gulps because it would get stuck in his throat otherwise.
He remembers as clear as day hearing you say how hard it was for you to trust people. To let people in.
“Sometimes, I barely want most people in this town to know I’m a human being. The less they see of me the better, you know? They’re just—fucking vultures. Waiting for a sign of weakness to start roaming your body and getting to pick it apart.”
Through the sips of his beer, Bucky wonders how many people have seen you cry other than him.
You clear his throat next to him, and all thoughts are vacant from his mind.
He turns his head to you, attention solely focused.
“Did you do a mass?” You ask, voice rough as sandpaper.
You’re questioning whether the people who died got a mass this week. Bucky has to breathe through the ’why do you ask, why, but WHY’ and simply answers. “I did, yeah.”
You nod, sniffle and clear your face in your sleeve. “Cool. That’s good.”
Bucky feels he’ll puke if he doesn’t get a little more than that, so he takes a deep breath and reminds himself that he can be brave. “There’ll be a lantern reunion at the lake.”
You turn to him, eyes red and vulnerable, and Bucky has to grip tighter on the can to stop himself from cleaning your tear-stained cheeks once again. “A what?”
“A lantern reunion. It was Laura’s idea, actually,” your friend was a blessing to his congregation, and it made Bucky smile a little to think so. “People from the congregation will go in a fortnight to the city lake a little further in the mountains and light up little candles in their names. Push it into the lake as sort of a goodbye and a desire for good passage.”
“Into heaven?” you ask, smiling sarcastically.
Bucky’s gotten so used to it that it doesn’t even rattle him anymore.
“Into anywhere,” he answers.
The sarcasm drops from your face like rain does out of nowhere from the sky, and you sigh. “That’s nice.”
“Is it?”
“It is.” You take a sip, and Bucky feels it in his chest the blow before it comes. “Naya would’ve loved it. Probably reminded her of Tangled or something like that.”
The name hits clear as day as part of the list Bucky read on Sunday.
“Was she a friend?” He asks.
You shake your head. “Goddaughter.”
Your jawline is sharper than ever before. Razor-sharp. Bucky realizes when he pays attention to more than just your eyes, the usual lovely, deep, and telling eyes, that the rest of your face lacks any of your kindness and softness—you’re angry. Properly raging, he imagines.
It’s the first time he’s seen the emotion on you, and it rattles something in the attics of Bucky’s brain.
Ghosts of his past, of guns, violence, and the range that humans could go to.
“Tell me about her,” the words fall from his lips, and Bucky feels like prey once more when your eyes snap back to him. “If you want to, of course. I—I’d like to hear it.”
For a moment, you only watch him, eyes searching all over his face.
“Why?” You ask.
Bucky shrugs his shoulder, sipping a little more. “Because… offering my condolences won’t do any good, although you do have them. And talking about the occurrence serves no purpose, either.” Both of those options are weak at best. “Hearing about who your goddaughter was, on the other hand, sounds nice.” He wonders how close you two were. Was she the daughter of a best friend? Bucky knew you had no sisters. “D'you have sisters?” He asks to confirm. “I thought you didn’t.”
The ghost of a real smile appears on your face. “I don’t.”
“Right.”
“She's—was… she was my best friend’s daughter. Hugh.” The smile turns more real than ghost-like. “He and I have been friends since middle school.”
Wow. That’s longer than Bucky’s been in this town. “That is a long time.”
“Notthat long, c'mon Father. Don’t call me old.”
Bucky laughs. “You’re not a sweet summer child, that’s for sure.”
“Wow!” You say, joining him in laughter.
“Your generation is a mystery to me, I’ll tell you that.”
“Ugh—there you go again with 'your generation’. You’re not that much older than me, Father,” you give him a pointed look.
Bucky hums. “I beg to differ. There’s more than a decade bridging this,” he gestures between you and him.
“Fine,old man. Whatever you say,” you chuckle, and sip the rest of your beer, crushing the can in your hands. “Anyway. Hugh’s not usually here—he works two towns over most of the time.”
“Is he married?” He asks out of curiosity.
You shake your head. “Nope. Naya’s mom was a fling.”
“Got it.” From that, he deduced you had a lot to do with the girl while growing up. “Was she a lot like you?”
You laugh. “A mix of Hugh and me, yeah. I spoiled her quite a lot.”
Bucky smiles. “Tell me more.”
And you do.
Bucky listens to you tell him about Naya, and she comes to life inside his mind.
He saw the picture of everyone involved, but now he can see the glint she had in her eyes, the quirks you mention, the passions in her heart.
He does his best to stay present in the conversation, letting go of any pain related to the tragedy in order to give you a good ear as you mentioned he has.
It hurts almost as much as if he was thinking about it all.
The oscillations in your smile between heartbroken and sad, and heartfelt. He feels the changes like shrapnel under his skin.
After a few more beers, the talk changes every now and then. From kids to raising them without parents, to the dangers surrounding newer generations—like always, talking to you is a rollercoaster of topics, and Bucky thinks he’s done a good job of taking your mind out of the dark places it was.
Until you stop, look at the wall in front of you again, and the tears start streaming down again.
Bucky’s heart breaks all over the wet ground, getting dirt all over the pieces.
He’s closing the distance between your bodies before he thinks better of it.
His arms wrap around your shoulders and you bury your face in his chest, letting go of your pain in the safe space of his arms.
Bucky lets you cry for as long as you need to, and when the quiet sobs diminish to only your sniffling, he still holds you close.
“I feel… like barbed wire. I don’t know.” Your voice is thick with emotion, and Bucky squeezes around you subconsciously. “There’s so much rage inside me, Buck.”
“That’s okay. It’s the normal thing to fill you.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew all the things I’m thinking. I—I’m not the best person ever, but the things I’d do right now…”
Bucky shakes his head. You’re human, he thinks. “You’re a good person even with those thoughts.”
“You don’t know that,” you argued.
“I do, though,” Bucky counters. “All the things you want are a response, not an initiative. That’s how I know.”
At that, you stay in silence. Bucky feels you moving your head—before, you had your forehead resting against his chest, but now you move your head to the side and lay your cheeks against him, making yourself comfortable.
“You’d judge me, though,” your voice is barely above a whisper. “They’re horrible things.”
Bucky scoffs. “I’ve done my fair share of horrible things in life, Y/n. I’ll never be in any position to truly judge someone else,” he tells you.
Then it hits him—I trust her too.
“I don’t believe that,” you whisper.
“It’s the truth.” Bucky’s past is his own, but he allows you to have this. “I was a tool for a long time, one that did many wrong things. I hardly think that you wanting to kill the people who did this with your bare hands is something so atrocious.”
“I’d think you’d judge upon murder, Father.”
“Not my place to do so,” and if he was being honest with himself, never would be. The things he believed in were symbolic.
“Is this what a confessional feels like?” you ask with a chuckle.
Bucky rests his head on top of yours. “It’s the idea.”
“I like it. It’s not so bad.” You take a deep breath, and Bucky feels it.
I like it too, he thinks. Why does it feel mutual?
“D'you want some food?” he asks. He needs something to do with his hands that doesn’t involve holding you.
It takes you a moment to answer. “Sure.” You pull your head back a few inches to look up at him, and the smile he sees in your eyes takes his breath away. “Thanks, Father.”
This feels as holy as any of my prayers.
Bucky feels dizzy.
“Thanks for trusting me,” he answers, and then lets you go. His arms feel empty and cold the minute they leave your frame. “C'mon. I’ll make us sandwiches.”
“That’s not food,” you argue behind him.
“It is in this house,” he rolls his eyes, knowing you’re just doing it to tease him. “Ungrateful youth, I swear.”
“I’m not being ungrateful, I’m being factual. You know, back during the Roman Empire in Grece, they…”
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ — ✞ —
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The night of grief changes nothing and everything at the same time.
Bucky knew you were a person beneath all the exterior of perfection, but it takes seeing you cry for him to realize why he deemed everything he saw to be that way—he saw beauty even in your imperfections. He met you by chance, befriended you by fate, and because the Universe wrote you and him to be this way, something about your existence read as beautiful from top to bottom. Breathtaking. It never occurred to him that he’d find something else to look at and see unadulterated and raw light, but there you were. Whether it was talking to friends, working, running past him at eight in the morning, or crying in his arms, the aura around you glowed in holy light, and Bucky had only one night of absolute existential crisis before acceptance washed over him.
He might have found his peace in god, but the god he believed in never excluded the Nirvana existing in love.
Accepting things as they were hurt much less.
Everything about him felt holy.
The whole month you stayed away from him, that’s all you could think about.
Bucky felt holy. His blue eyes on you, the gentleness in his words, and the shy cocking of his neck whenever he was under the light of a compliment—holy, holy, holy.
That’s why you hated how much you desired to corrupt all the purity within every thought permeated by him.
It made you a little sick at first. Desiring him and still talking to him normally as if you didn’t touch yourself to thoughts of Bucky fucking you and stretching you around his cock while filth dripping from his lips was a hard task, but no one could say you were one to shy away from a challenge.
All of that goes away when he cooks for you.
Theshame in wanting him.
From that day on, you allow your mind to drift wherever it pleases.
To his words, his eyes, his lips, the feeling of how strong his arms were — how did I miss that, what is that damn black thing hiding, why does it feel so warm and firm, oh my god — and anything in between. His voice. The way he curses under his breath as if Jesus is not listening if he talks low enough. How much lower his voice can go.
Letting all those thoughts roam free is both a blessing and a curse.
When you see him the day following a dream where Bucky did all the things your mind wanted him to and a bit more, you realize where the curse part walks in.
It’shard looking him in the eye when you have vivid images of his hand gripping your neck. It’s sad that all you have is images, but they’re more than enough to make you take a step back every now and then.
You can’t get wet if you don’t get a whiff of his perfume.
Can’t feel embarrassed and hot all over if he doesn’t make one of his silly jokes under his breath.
It takes you a few weeks of escaping him here and there before you receive it, at 11:50 pm on a Monday night:
What would you say if I told you I need my confessional bubble?
The message stares at you, and you stare back.
The feeling of his hug around you comes to you like the scent of someone being dragged by the wind.
Where are you?
The church. I was organizing some stuff. Come over?
Not one to say no to him, you drive there with your heart beating in your palms and the familiar knot on your throat of someone haunted by their own thoughts.
At the church, you find Bucky with a glass in his hands and all the pictures and remains of the shrines packed in one corner.
“Evening, Father.”
Bucky turns around sharply, and you see that he’s not drunk nor tipsy yet. His look is sober, and his eyes lighten in color when they see you.
“Hey.” He points to the stuff on the floor. “I’m gonna put this in the back. I’ll be back in a minute—you’re very fast. How fast did you drive?”
Probablytoo fast because I was anxious. “Maybe you’re just slow, Father James.”
Bucky’s eyes narrow, and your mind goes oh-oh. He looks at you with narrowing eyes, but then the mirth is back on his face. “Ha ha.” He picks up the boxes. “I’ll be back.”
“Won’t I burn in your absence?” You call after him, trying to contain your smile.
Bucky looks over his shoulder just so you can see him rolling his eyes.
You chuckle. Was there even a need to be nervous?
This is Bucky.
James.Father James. He’s a good guy, and a great friend, and a pretty funny person for someone who is so mysterious.
In his absence, you start walking aimlessly through the church.
You’re here very rarely. Paying attention to the details of it is not the first thing in your mind but, with nothing to do, you notice all the beauty in the place: the colorful glasses, how polished and shiny the wood benches and every other wood surface looks, and then it catches your eyes.
On the far right corner, close to the altar, there it is.
The confessional.
You’re walking to it before you notice what you’re doing.
It’s bigger than you expected.
Your hand comes up to touch the wood and its patterns—the velvet drape which closes one of the sides is blood red, and you raise both eyebrows at it.
Gorgeous.
The other side is closed with a wooden door, though. You imagine it’s where the priest enters, and because you’re friends with the one who runs this church, you let yourself in.
The space is big enough to fit two adults if they’re squeezed close together.
You take a seat, looking over the side where you can see very little from the open spots in the wood.
Then, you hear his footsteps coming back out there.
“Y/n?” He calls out, sounding confused.
You think about coming out, but then…
Confessional bubble.
You open the door minimally, put only your hand outside, and wave. “Here,” you singsong.
There’s a second of silence in which you wonder if Bucky is genuinely offended for the first time about something you’re doing, but then you hear his laughter approaching.
You hear his body passing through the drapes and sitting next to you.
“Not where I’d expect to find you,” he says from the other side.
It’s with the first sentence that you realize what a terrible, miscalculated, poor idea this was.
Your senses go from 0 to 100 in a second. They’re all tunneled to his voice, and you can smell his perfume permeating the small space.
“Y/n?”
“I was curious,” you answer. Your voice is low, and you swallow down the nervousness. It should be fine. What could go wrong? “Plus… this seems like a cool bubble.”
“I told you it was, you never trusted me in that,” he answers.
You chuckle. “I didn’t know about all the velvet.” And the stripping of your senses. God, I feel dizzy.
“It’s charming, isn’t it?”
You are, your traitorous mind replies. “Yup.” You take a deep through your mouth and let it out slowly. “What was in your mind, young padawan?”
Bucky laughs. “Wrong religion.”
“Right, my bad—what’s in your mind, my sheep?”
“You’re not so bad at this.”
“And you’re great at deflecting,” you bite back, smiling already. Your body relaxes on its seat, and you start picking on your t-shirt. “I thought you wanted to talk.”
“I did.” Bucky hums. “Didn’t think you wanted to, though.”
What?“What?”
“I was gonna ask you to go grab a bite with me so I could hear how you’ve been doing these past couple of weeks. I haven’t seen much of you,” his voice sounds a little small, and you hate yourself for a second. “I imagine you’re busy.”
Does trying to get rid of thoughts of you naked count as busy?
You bite your bottom lip nervously. “Not that busy,” you reply. “Just… processing.”
“Right. I thought about that too,” he says. Bucky takes a deep breath and you can hear that too. “I just… missed your company.”
You smile at that. “Awn. Thanks, Buck. I missed you too.”
“Did you?”
“Of course,” you say. “You know I like company better than most. More than, like, 99% of this town, for sure.”
“I’m flattered,” he chuckles. “I thought I did something wrong, that’s all. I—you’d tell me if I had, right?”
That ties knots inside your brain. Your neurons seem to clash with each other, and you look from side to side trying to find out if that was a joke.
“What could you possibly have done to me?” You ask with laughter.
“Dunno.” Bucky seems to be thinking, so you wait. “I can be annoying sometimes.”
“Have you met me?”
He laughs again. “You’re peculiar.”
“Most people go for 'annoying’.”
“Most people are pussies,” he replies back so quickly that you burst out laughing.
“Father James!” You tell him in a reprehending tone. “This is not the place for such language.”
“I think you’ll find out that we’re in the only place of holy grounds where you can say whatever the fuck you want,” he chuckles.
“Is that so?”
You can almost see him shrugging his shoulders. “It’s how I always felt.”
“Cool. This is the blind spot, then?”
“Exactly.” Bucky seems to be tapping on the wood, and you recognize his nervous tick. “Maybe you can use the blind spot to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me, then.”
Shit.
The silence is as much of a confession as you trying to play it dumb would be.
“Y/n…”
You hate how he makes your name sounds like a plea.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you tell him. “I swear.”
There’s a heartbeat of silence, and Bucky seems to believe you. “Okay.” The sound of a thud tells you he rested his head against the wall at the back, and you do the same. “So… did something happen? To you, I mean.”
Yeah, you did.
Thinking that’s not the reply he wants, you hum thoughtfully. “I’m… trying to work with life’s limitations.”
There’s another moment of quiet, and then Bucky snorts. “That was vague as shit, Y/n.”
“It’s the truth!” you laugh.
“I know it is, but it doesn’t explain anything,” he counters. “What limitations?”
How do I answer this? How do I tell him it’s him without putting him under the spotlight? I don’t wanna lose you, Bucky. I like what we have. I like this.
You like him.
“No judgments. Remember?” He asks.
Fuck. Fine, here goes nothing, you think. “I… have been thinking a lot. About someone. In ways that I’m not sure this person would want me to.”
Out of all the silences, this is the heaviest one.
You hear him breathing in deep, and it feels like his body has strings attached to yours.
“You’re insecure about having… feelings for this person?” His voice is rough. Carefully curated out of any emotions.
You realize you’re speaking to Father James rather than Bucky.
“Kinda,” you reply, surprised that you don’t care about the switch in roles.
“Why would they be bothered?”
The million-dollar questions.
Your palms are sweating. Your body has the low humming of when blood is pumping everywhere at a higher speed, and all the anxiety you had when you first saw his message rushes back.
“'Cause I’m pretty sure they’d view it as… something bad,” you reply.
“Feelings are never bad.”
“No?”
“No. They’re natural. The person might not want them, but if they view them as bad, that means they’re not worthy of it.”
“No—what I meant is—maybe they would feel bad about being on the receiving end of it.”
“Again, that makes no sense. Why would they be offended by it?”
“I don’t know. 'Cause they don’t want me?”
“That’s their loss. Still doesn’t mean your feelings are bad. They could be unreciprocated, but never bad.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m scared of,” you confess. Fuck, this thing works. “I don’t wanna face the fact that it could never be mutual.”
“Thatis scary,” he whispers. You still hear it.
“Yeah.”
“You’ll never know, though. Unless you tell them, you can’t know if it is or not.”
You laugh, humorlessly. “I don’t think I need to. Not for this.”
“Why not?” asks Bucky.
“Because the chances of him wanting me or anything are slim to none.”
“I find that hard to be true, Y/n.”
“What percentage of priests lead a personal life outside their calling, Father James?”
The question comes out breathless and it finishes the job of setting your body on fire.
On the other side, the silence is deafening. You can’t see him, but your mind paints the picture easily: Bucky standing there, frozen in his spot as the realization dawns on him.
Then, his reply comes and what was left of your body turns to dust.
“A low percentage. But some of us do.”
You have to bite your bottom lip to swallow a whine. His name still comes out. “Bucky.”
“You’ve been thinking about me all this time and you thought I would be upset about it?” He sounds breathless. Your body is not only alive now, but it’s also starting to respond to the drop in his voice.
“They’re not very holy thoughts,” you chuckle humorlessly.
“Tell me.”
Two words and your legs constrict against one another. Your core feels like a furnace, heating up more and more by the second.
“I… are you serious?”
“Very.” Bucky sounds as affected as you. “Tell me what thoughts were so bad they drove you away from me.”
“I… I had dreams.” You want to touch yourself so badly that you start squirming in your seat. “About you.”
All he does is hum in reply.
“You kissed me. And then… you told me I was going to accept all that you wanted to give me. And I said yes. So you started to get… more—of me. You took off my clothes. And said you needed to let out some… steam. To let out some things that have been inside of you.”
There, your words were cut short.
The images of Bucky kneeling in front of you and eating you out like he never had a meal before in his life.
“Go on,” his voice breaks through the smoke.
It sounds like an order.
Your body shudders, and you try to grip on reality before the dreams take over. “You ate me out.” The whisper sounds louder than any of his sermons you had the pleasure of hearing. “And…” I can’t say it. I can’t. You can feel the wetness dripping to your panties, and you have to sit on top of your hands to stop them from starting to roam your body.
“Finish it.”
Where did he learn to command people like that?
“I asked to do the same.” How could you not? All you wanted was to choke on the weight of Bucky on your tongue. “And then you fucked me. Slowly. And… kept telling me about how long it had been. How good it felt to stretch me out.” Why am I going into details? You whimper. “Bucky.”
“Is that why you were away? You dreamt about me being inside of you and that’s it—your brain stopped working around me?”
“I got off to those dreams too many times to not think about them when I saw you.”
“Fuck.” Bucky must move next to you because you hear the sound of his clothes ruffling. “You touched yourself thinking about them?”
“Yeah.”
You hear his breath intake, and the next sound drops your heart to your feet.
Bucky gets up, the drapes ruffle and then, the door of the confessional is opening.
The sight of Bucky standing tall over you with his black t-shirt tucked inside his pants and the tent of his dick straining against his slacks makes your mouth dry before it starts to water.
“Show me,” says Bucky. Then he drops to his knees in front of you, reaches both hands to your knees, and places them there. He looks up into your eyes to ask, “Can I?” and you nod, dumbly and shaking, as Bucky spreads your knees open. You’re wearing loose pants, and his hands go further up to their hem so he can pull them down.
Allowing him to leave you in nothing but your panties feels like a fever dream.
With your pants pooling in your ankles, Bucky lets hands drag on the skin of your legs and thighs.
“You’re right,” he says. “It’s been years.” His hands reach your waist, and your shaking comes to a halt with the firmness that they touch your pelvis bones. “And yet, I think I’ve thought more about pleasure and connection these past months than I did my whole life.” Bucky moves his body closer until he’s nestled between your legs, and when his head inches closer to your cunt you realize what he’s about to do, whining at the thought. “I dreamt about this, too.”
He presses his nose on the hood of your pussy, inhaling deeply and making your legs turn from solid to liquid.
Bucky runs his nose there, and when he hums against your core, you feel it inside of you. “You smell so fucking good, dove.”
“Oh,god.”
Bucky gropes your ass and shakes his head. “No. Forgot my name already?”
“James, please. Please,” you whine, your legs coming up to his shoulders.
He lets you, helping your legs to secure around his neck, and when you look down and see he’s smiling, you know you’re fucked.
“It’s been a while, so let me take my time. I think I still remember how to do this,” Bucky says.
Then, he pushes your panties to the side and groans out loud.
“So fucking wet for me. Shit.” He pushes his nose again, getting it wet with your slick. “Fuck,” he dives in.
Bucky’s tongue gives gentle licks against your clit, as if savoring it first.
When he feels your legs spreading wider and he has more room to work with, he truly starts his job. His tongue licks on your folds, then dips from the bottom all the way up, licking a stripe across your cunt before his mouth attaches itself to your clit.
Bucky sucks on the hard nub with his tongue, alternating between slow and hard-pressured jabs to quick flicks of his tongue from side to side.
Your hands are covering your mouth to stop the screams from coming out.
He slurps on the slick and the more the works his tongue on your clit and then pushes down to your open cunt, the wetter you get.
Time ceases to exist with Bucky knelt between your legs.
He goes slow, then fast, then very slow just to hear your whines getting louder. He laughs in your pussy, and the vibrations crawl up inside of you.
At one point he looks up and with a hard grope on the back of your thighs gets your attention on him again.
His beard is glistening, wet. He’s smiling like he’s seeing something funny for the first time in ages, and when he asks, “Do you like penetration?” as if he doesn’t know the answer, you feel like crying.
“Please.”
He takes pity on you. “It’s okay, dove.” Bucky’s right hand leaves your legs and his fingers join his mouth between your legs. He coats his fingers in your slick before he pushes the middle one all the way in, slowly at first, then he removes it all the way and pushes back in with his tongue.
“Bucky!”
“Hmhm,” he hums against your pussy. “Is this what you dreamt of, dove?” He asks before latching onto you again and sucking on your clit like it’s a lollipop.
The coil in your lower stomach seems like a rubber band ready to snap, but you need more.
“Bucky. Bucky,” you call.
“Hm?”
“I wanna cum with you inside me. Please?”
Bucky’s hand squeezes involuntarily on your leg. He looks up and kisses your inner thigh. “You do?”
“Please.”
“Will you let me take you for a bite afterward since I couldn’t help myself and I’m doing everything backward?” He asks, already getting up.
You nod a bit desperately. “I’ll let you bite anything, just—please.”
He laughs. “Get up.”
You do, and it’s a tight squeeze to switch places with him, but you two manage. Bucky sits on the place you sat and unbuttons his pants, pulling out his cock from the confine of his briefs.
You step out of your pants and sit on his lap, trying to keep all the feelings daring to pool out inside while you feel like everything about you is already stripped bare in front of him.
“You sure you want this, yeah?” I asked.
At that moment, Bucky pulls you close by his waist. It’s almost easy (keyword being almost) to ignore the outline of his hard cock between your legs when he’s holding your face like this.
There’s barely any light illuminating the inside of the confessional, but there is enough for you to see him glowing. Glistening. Smiling like he’s watching something unfold.
He holds your face in his hand and pulls you in for a kiss.
I hadn’t kissed him yet.
Bucky kisses you with slow, soft tenderness at first.
It’s almost his way of saying he means everything—he means this, and he means what he said about being a part of the cleric who still allows themselves to have a life outside their work.
When his tongue opens up your mouth sinfully, that’s when you feel him twitch underneath you.
His arm around your waist pulls you even closer, and you get him. You’d want to merge with him right now if you could.
“Put me inside you,” he pulls back his face only a few inches to say those words, then dives in for another kiss.
Your mind is too dizzy with everything that is James to do anything but obey.
You reach beneath you to hold his cock in your hands and guide it to your entrance.
Perhaps you should care that none of you discussed the important things you should have before you let him inside you, raw and deep like this, but all you want is this:
Feeling him stretch you out.
When his tips fit and you can let go, both of you groan at the same time. He’s big.
He’s thick, and he’s leaking, and when the tip pushes in, gliding easy with how wet you are, you have to pull back from his kiss so you can breathe.
Bucky groans louder and hides his face in the crook of your shoulder.
“You’re big,” you whisper, sliding down further until he’s bottomed out. “Oh my…” can’t call out for Jesus, but you’re still shaking and finding a new reason to worship right there and then. You might be drunk on desire, or drunk on how high Bucky made you by eating you out, or how close you were to cumming before he made you get up. Maybe all of the above. “Father James—feels so good.”
The slap comes as a surprise, but the sting and your scream are both pleasurable.
“Don’t call me that again,” he growls. He bites your neck, and moves his hip for the first time.
“Why not,” you whine. It feels so good. You feel so full. “Feel so full, Bucky.”
“I know, dove.” He bucks his hip upwards, thrusting deep and slow. “You’re so fucking tight,” his voice is strained, and you pull his face back to yours, cupping his neck. With his eyes on yours, Bucky’s face softens. “Feels good?” He asks with another pointed thurst.
You nod, riding him in the same rhythm as his thrusts. “Hmhm.”
“You look beautiful on top of me,” he mutters, kissing your chin, you cheeks, and your eyelids, each kiss pointed with another deep thrust.
“We’re gonna do this again, right?”
Bucky hums, and thrusts harder. FUCK.
“Ah, there it is,” he mutters, as if talking to himself. “Was looking for that.” He thrusts again, confirming to see if he’s found your g spot. The way you clench and moan his name are enough of an answer. “We’ll do this many more times. I just—need—fuck, need to do this proper.” Bucky pins your hips in place and takes over the movements. “Shouldn’t be fucking you, dove. Not here, not like this.”
“I’mso fucking wet, Buck,” you cry. “You wouldn’t let me go home to get off thinkin'—oh—about you—fuck, right there;”
“I wouldn’t?”
“Bucky.” It’s louder than before. Both a moan and a prayer.
His thrusts become more erratic, and Bucky’s own moans and prayers start sounding much like yours.
So tight, dove. Fucking made for me. Stop clenching your pussy, Y/n, fuck. I’m gonna fill you up, d'you want that? Hm?
“Don’t pull out,” you whine.
“No?”
“No.” You shake your head. He should, your mind says. I don’t care, your body responds, hips going harder to meet his harsh thrusts.
“Want to feel me leaking out of you?”
Fucking hell. Where was this holy mouth hidden? “Yes!”
“Say it,” Bucky’s grunting, and his forehead is sparkling with sweat, and you feel the sweat dripping down your back.
“Wanna feel you dripping out of me, Buck.”
“Fucking—Y/n, I’m gonna cum. Are you close, dove?” He holds you by the neck, and brings your mouth to his. “Tell me how to make you cum. Tell me.”
“Hard. Deep.”
Bucky’s a good listener anywhere. He pins your hip in one place, buries himself as deep as he can go inside of you and mutters about how good it is to feel your cunt stretching out around his cock, then pistons his hips in place just like that, hitting that spot inside of you so mercilessly that you’re excused to scream as much as you do.
When you yell that you’re gonna cum, all he says is, “Please. Please, dove. Show me. Cum for me. Cum only for me, Y/n.”
With another scream that leaves your throat aching, you feel your walls convulsing and your legs shaking as an orgasm knocks you out.
Bucky cums by muffling his own screams in your neck, and you feel the warmth of him spilling inside of you.
If there were any ways for you to not surrender and devote to him, they’re all burned and gone.
This feels like the beginning of all things holy for you.
I’m back, for now. And what’s a better way to return with than a new Bucky x Reader series?
This series was brought to you because someone who (thank God) doesn’t follow me on Tumblr, wanted me to write something nicefor him, but I also wanted to post something here, so you guys are getting a bit cleaner version.
I hope you’ll like it!!
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Summary: The Reader hadn’t seen nor heard from him in about five years. Her life is getting back on track (sure, she might be playing the role of fiance for her gay friend, but everything else is going great). She’s famous all across the globe for being the only person to meet The Lone Wolf in his uniform, and live to tell the tale. There was so many people asking her about him, but she never said a word. She moved on, but the past seems to want to bite her in the ass.
“Ma'am, could you tell us a little bit more about his relationship with you?”
“What relationship? He had kidnapped me and tortured me for two weeks. I’ve answered this question over an over and it hasn’t changed since the first time. I was kidnapped and tortured, then left alone, tied up, until my Uncle had found me. What kind of a relationship should that be put under, other than the captor-victim one, please enlighten me?” Dozens of people, mostly reporters, had been asking me the same question for five years, but I’ve never given them the true answer, I don’t think I could ever do that. Not to myself, not to my friend and fiancé (even if we were only engaged for the past two weeks as a plot for his family not to find out he’s gay), not even to him… That was the past I had been hiding from everyone. It was enough that they all knew I had something to do with him.Thank God they did not have any clue what that something really was, because it would start a whole new round of questions that I would never have the guts to answer, I could never betray him. Looking at the blurry picture of the hooded man made me remember everything I was trying so hard to delete from the hard drive that my mind is. I buried them deep inside, never caring about the fact that I knew I would still feel whatever it is that I felt for himthen, and hewould still be one of the few known war criminals of our modern age. Yet not a single one of them ever knew his name, they couldn’t even find his real face, or any data about himfor that matter. The only two things they knew about him,The Lone Wolf, as they deemed him, were the initials of his first and last name - JB, and that I was kidnapped by him on the day of hislast known crime.
Sometimes I wish I knew what had happened to him. I prayed to God he was still alive and kicking somewhere and that he had a great reason for being a stupid jerk, which was in character for him when it came to other people, but never when it came to me.
As I got out of the building of the company and headed toward the cafe, I could tell something was going to change today, I just didn’t have any idea what was coming… I’m Y/N Y/L/N and this is my story.
“Ma'am, could you tell us a little bit more about his relationship with you?” Dozens of people, mostly reporters, were asking the same question for ages, but I’ve never given them the honest answer, I don’t think I could ever do that. Not to myself, not to my fiancé (even if we were only engaged for the past two weeks as a plot for his family not to know he’s gay), not even to him… That was the past I had been hiding from everyone. It was enough that they knew I had something to do with him. Thank God they did not know what that something really was, because it would start a whole new round of questions. Looking at the blurry picture of the hooded man made me remember everything I was trying so hard to delete from the hard drive that my mind is. I buried them deep inside, never caring about the fact that I knew I would still feel whatever it is that I felt for himthen.And it would not change the fact thathe will always be one of the few known war criminals of our modern age. Yet no one ever knew his name. Not even hisreal face. The only thing they knew about him,The Lone Wolf, as they deemed him, were hisinitials-JBB.
![Title: All this and Heaven, Too [2]Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x ReaderSummary: Caught in an anti-her](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0c175516abf542b49baf582427fa27b2/2eab12baf9d49dc3-96/s1280x1920/f5f32e663e155eb7f1d3f95dede68badf3748f5a.jpg "Title: All this and Heaven, Too [2]Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x ReaderSummary: Caught in an anti-her")
