All is fair in love and war - James B. Barnes

Author: theweirdymcweirderson

Characters: Reader, James B. Barnes

Relationships: Bucky Barnes×Reader

Word count: 2462

Summary: Things heat up during a training session between Bucky and Reader.

Warnings: Pet names, explicit words, teasing, cursing, fighting/training, dirty talk (kinda), innuendos, that stupid metal arm (ugh), kissing, implied smut, seduction 101. That’s it I think, let me know if you find more.

Notes: You may wonder what this is, the answer to that is I don’t know :) But if you feel like leaving me some feedback, I’d really appreciate it.

Ps: English is not my first language, I tried my best, but there might still be some mistakes/weird sentences. Sorry :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A strategy, that’s all it is. Nothing more than a strategy. A strategy that you’ve spent the last couple of weeks working on because, honestly, how long can anyone take this? Every other day, you find yourself lying on your back, sweaty and out of breath, panting up at the same man pinning your body to the sticky mattresses time and time again. That is, if you’re not pinned to something else.

It probably wouldn’t even be so bad if it wasn’t for the smug, self-satisfied grin always painted on his stupidly handsome face.

So yes, you came up with a plan. Granted it’s a stupid, ridiculous, totally not thought-through plan, but at least you are prepared. That’s what everyone keeps telling you anyway. You should always have a plan.

That’s why, this time, as he effortlessly swipes your feet from under you, sending your body to meet the oh so trusty mattress, you don’t try to fight your way back to your feet before his hips are pinning yours down; one elbow landing a breath away from your face as his metal hand wraps around your throat, asserting the dominance you both know he currently has over you.

Yeah, he’s a show-off and you fucking hate him for it.

The smile that spreads on his lips is slow, teasing and 100% meant to get on every single one of your nerves. That’s another thing he excels at. The fucker.

Your chest rises to meet his sweat-dampened one, cause Mr. ‘I’ll always pin you to whatever surface is closest’ prefers working out shirtless – not that you mind – but still: a show off.

“Gotcha.” A quick eyebrow raise, smile widening as his tongue pokes out to make an appearance.

He’s a show-off and a tease. So, well, you kiss him.

Now your plan didn’t go any further than this exact moment and you’re not sure what you were expecting him to do other than be surprised, but it sure as hell wasn’t to kiss you back.

He’s a good kisser, and fucking hell, you should’ve expected that. You should’ve at least guessedfrom the way he runs his tongue over those lips, the way his teeth sink in them, or even just the easy way they curl around his smile. He smiles like a man who knows how to use those lips.

So, what if you get distracted for a minute or several even? What if your arms encircle his waist and you pull him closer? No one in their right mind would judge you cause he definitely knows how to use those lips.

The position you’re in, or rather his hips pinning your own, limit your movements which is more than a little frustrating – not that you plan on ever admitting that out loud – all you can really do, is wiggle underneath him, until he catches your drift and smoothly manoeuvres to rest between your parted thighs. Bless Sam and his ‘flexibility is fundamental’ policy.

You’d originally thought this would be the long-awaited moment to claim your victory, instead, you find yourself hooking your calf around his thigh, which rewards you with the sweetest, most panty-melting groan you’ve had the pleasure of hearing, and the prominent evidence of how much he’s enjoying the kiss. Now, that, is one hell of a victory.

His hand moves from your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he cups your head to deepen the kiss and when his tongue asks for entrance, you don’t deem it nice to refuse – seriously that would be rude – so you grant it.

He kisses you until you run out of breath and you find yourself wishing you’d taken on Natasha’s advice to increase your damn lung capacity. You don’t have much time to contemplate that thought, though, because then he’s staring down at you so intently with those pretty, darkened blue eyes and, damn, is it even legal for him to lick his lips like that?

“That wa-” Taking your chance while his guard is down, you don’t give him time to finish.

Hands on his shoulders, you bridge your hips and push him off and to the side, the way Steve showed you during your last sparring session, quickly switching positions and pinning him to the mattress. Your turn for a smug smile.

“-uff. Dirty trick, huh?”

You’d probably be more bothered by the fact that he’s grinning again, if it weren’t for his lips still glistening with the evidence of your kiss. His hands resting comfortably on your waist are a plus.

“Gotcha!”

“Doesn’t count, doll. You cheated.”

You shrug one shoulder, leaning down and mimicking his previous actions; elbow by his head and hand around his neck. You’re starting to understand why he enjoys pinning you down so much. He’s still a show-off, though.

“Gotcha.” You whisper the word, letting your breath tickle the sensitive skin just under his ear and thoroughly enjoying the way his fingers flex on your waist as his breathing stutters ever so slightly. It’s payback and, fine, maybe he’s not the only tease.

“If that’s what it takes, I’m more than willing to let you pin me more often, dollface.” The way the pet name rolls off his tongue this time – smooth, sensual, inviting – has you fighting off the urge to buck your hips. You categorically refuse to give him the satisfaction.

“That’s cute, but we both know your ego could never sustain such a blow, sarge.”

With his head thrown back, you feel the laugh that erupts from him travel all through his body, and fuck, the plan was definitely not thought-through.

“Trust me, my ego is getting one hell of a boost with you perched up there, doll.”

He makes a show of letting his eyes suggestively travel to the place you’re sitting on, making you hyper aware of the delectable way his bulge looks in his damned, black shorts. Yep, okay, time to get up before you make a fool out of yourself.

“Don’t get cheeky with me, sergeant.” A slap to his chest accompanies your words and the hard pecs you’re met with, have your core clenching involuntarily. He’s just so solid; it’s unfair. Likereallyunfair.

Before you have the time to redirect your thoughts to something more decent – he is your teammate after all, for crying out loud – he brings his hands under your thighs, lifting your body as he sits up and slams you down between his parted thighs, effectively knocking the breath out of you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

You grunt back something intelligible, sticking up your middle finger for him to chuckle at as he gets back to his feet. God, you really do hate his skilled and overly attractive ass. When you crack open an eye, you find his hand dangling in front of your face: a peace offering. Grasping the metal appendage, you let him pull you back upright and head for your water bottle; Barnes still has 27 minutes and 19 seconds to thoroughly torture your ass before you can call it a day. Yay.

Your back is met with the wall this time, because he likes to spice things up. You huff out indignantly, struggling against the vice grip holding both of your wrists plastered to the wall padding. Why are his hands so big, anyway? Honestly, that’s just unnecessary. You feel like screaming your frustration cause he’s not even using the metal hand and, yet, you can’t make him budge.

“You’re getting better at this.”

Praying for your body not to betray the effect his praise has on you, you flash him your most saccharine, sarcastic smile. “What can I say, Steve’s a great teacher. Gon let me go now, or what?”

Your attitude will be your undoing one day, that’s for sure.

Instead of loosening his grip, he slots his thigh between your legs, spreading them in the process as your hips are pinned to the wall as well. His breathing is ragged and you wish, but you know it’s not due to exertion; you still have a long road ahead of you before your fighting skills manage to exert a super soldier. Still, you’ll take what you can and, now, it’s your ego’s turn to get one hell of a boost.

You don’t dare break eye contact, staring right back at him defiantly. No way you’re backing down. When you feel the almost-there touch of his metal fingers caressing their way up your thigh, you consider caving for a fraction of a second, but then that grin just has to make another damn appearance. Well, fuck him.

“I’m dying to see how you get out of this one, dollface.” His gaze locks on your parted lips. You know what he expects, what he wants, and you also know that he’ll never cave either.

Your voice sounds just as strained and husky as his when you finally manage to get enough moisture back in your dry mouth to answer.

“What if I don’t want to, sergeant?” It’s mocking, provoking and instead of taking it back, your shoulders relax against the wall, pushing your chest forward as your back arches invitingly.

Yeah, your attitude will certainly be your undoing.

His dark eyes find yours again, at the same time his metal hand lands just under your ribcage and his other hand tugs your wrists upwards. You groan at the change in posture; every muscle in your body tensing as you find yourself barely able to reach the ground with your tiptoes.

“Don’t fuck with me, doll.” Huh, you wish.

James fucking Barnes is holding your body suspended in the air. If you were to relax, you’d end up straddling his thigh and the fucker makes it abundantly clear that he knows that by purposefully contracting his quad. Your ego stops you from accepting the tempting invitation.

If your brain wasn’t currently swallowed by a cloud of lust, you would actually be more than a little mortified by the fact that he has you melting against his rock-hard body as muscle fatigue starts to set in.

You don’t know how, and you certainly don’t know why, since your body is rather enjoying the feeling of his, but you manage to use his hold on your wrist as leverage and your knee comes up to awkwardly connect with his side. The movement takes him by surprise and he loses his footing trying to keep you from falling.

You end up back on the mattress in a tangled mess of limbs. The timer going off makes you jump lightly, but neither of you moves to pull away. Somewhere in the background, under the obscene fantasies now running wild in your head, you remember that you’re still in the gym. Anyone could walk in at any fucking second.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.” You throw back his words at him and if the answering growl you receive is anything to go by, he doesn’t find you as funny as you find yourself. Oh well. You shrug, sitting back upright on his lap as he lets his head hit the mattress; eyes closing. The privileged seat is kind of starting to grow on you.

“Bucky?”

“Hmmm?” It’s more of an annoyed grunt than a hum, his nostrils flaring as he opens his eyes to find you glancing behind him to check if anyone is there to witness what is going on.

“How’s the ego doing?”

“You really wanna know the answer to that?”

He shifts his hips slightly, catching you off guard and you end up positioned right on top of the delectable bulge that was previously teasing you.

Oh yeah, something is growing on you alright.

Schooling your facial expression as best as you can because – sweet baby pandas, neither his shorts nor yours do anything to conceal what and how much he is packing – you force your eyes to stay on his daring ones. This is the moment of truth: every single, tiny, teasing taunt you’ve exchanged today culminates in this. You, him, your core pressed to his bulge and his lust-darkened eyes boring into yours; you’re going to combust.

“Well then, nothing to worry about I guess. So- ehm, time’s up, you plan on letting me go or what?”

“Maybe…” His hold on your thighs tightens the slightest bit, betraying his words and keeping you rooted in place. “If you ask nicely.”

You huff out a laugh, eyebrows rising incredulously, because he has to know that you’d rather spend the night sitting on his lap than beg. There is no way in hell, heaven and everything in between. At least, you like to think so.

“Sure, in your dreams, pal.”

He sits up then, and all you can think about is how strong his core muscles must be. Does this man ever tire? Apparently not.

“Oh, I’m counting on it, doll. Always sound so damn pretty, too.” That takes you by surprise. You know what his words imply and, suddenly, your brain is flooded back with all those indecent thoughts about your teammate.

Your forefinger finds his chest and you push back, needing to put some space between you and his scorching, hot body in order for your brain to resume functioning properly.

“Well, guess what? If you let me go now, you’ll have just enough time to squeeze in a nap before dinner time.” His back connects loudly with the mat as he unceremoniously falls back down; hands pillowing his head as he stares up at you with a boyish grin.

You lift yourself off of him as gracefully as you can, and just before you stand back to your feet, you lean closer one last time; your finger back on his chest and slowly making its way south. Yep, those abs are as strong as you always guessed them to be. “You should know, though, that I sound much, much better in real life.”

Flashing him a sultry smile, you stand up and revel in the groan that echoes your confession.

“Who’s being cheeky now, huh, doll?”

You don’t turn to look at him, eyeing him in the mirror and enjoying the way his eyes are glued to your retreating figure as he adjusts himself with his metal hand. For some reason, which you do not care to dwell on, that simple action gets you hot all over.

“Sweet dreams.” You toss the words over your back, calming down the raging zoo in your ribcage before you add. “That is, unless you rather get a taste of the real thing, sarge.”

The invitation is followed by a second of silence; then a curse, a thud and some more colourful words reach your ears, before the mat squeaks under Bucky’s footsteps as he rushes to catch up.

Find more stuff here<3

Dating Bucky Barnes Would Include…

AN: I can’t believe I haven’t done one of these for Bucky yet! Warning, this turned out to be more of a slow burn than I intended. Oops!

• For the majority of his life, Bucky Barnes has fought.
• When he wasn’t fighting, he was atoning for the sins that followed whatever battle he survived.
• Post-Snap, Bucky threw himself into making amends.
• Sometimes it would be doing small acts of kindness for strangers.
• Other times it was moving across the hall from a man whose life you played a part in making terrible.
• Balance was never his strong suit.
• Dr. Raynor was little help in his atonement as she was less of a therapist and more of a well of one-liners about Bucky’s social life.
• It was an easy mark though, as Bucky knew more ghosts than actual, living people.
• Perhaps that was why Dr. Raynor’s teasing hit him so hard.
• Perhaps that was why her comments on the topic lingered in his mind on the nights when his terrors were quiet.
• “Do you have any friends? What about Sam? Have you heard from him?”
• “You should try meeting someone, James.”
• “Did you speak to anyone new over the weekend?”
• Every time, Bucky would reply, “no, just Yori and the bartender.”
• “The bartender nice?”
• Every time, Bucky would shrug and say, “I dunno. I’ll find out next time.”
• Then, ‘next time’ would come and Bucky wouldn’t find out.
• It was like clockwork.
• Until it wasn’t.
• Until you.
• It’s during Bucky’s usual dinner and drink with Yori, when he least expects it.
• Izzy’s is a dive, a well-too-hidden gem covered in dust kicked up by those who lived in the city, walked the streets, called it home.
• That means that Izzy’s is typically empty, but if it is busy, it’s full of regulars.
• Leah, the bartender Bucky didn’t know was nice, was the only employee anyone seemed to see.
• So, when you shadowed her behind the bar, eyes wide and drinking how she made each concoction for Izzy’s patrons, you stuck out.
• That was why Bucky watched you at first, listened as Leah taught you the ropes.
• “Alright, so, show me how to make it.”
• “Like you just did?”
• “Yes, Y/N. Like I just did.”
• Bucky smiled then.
• He smiled at your clear nervousness, the sound of your voice, the first utterance of your name.
• Yori was talking about something, reciting some story that he already told
• and Bucky was half listening, his eyes flicking up from the counter top to you.
• Once, you locked eyes with him.
• You smiled and Bucky felt his own smile widen.
• That was before he lost his nerve and quickly looked away.
• He wanted to talk to you, but he got in his head about it; as he always did.
• Plus, your training finished and you walked out of Izzy’s with only one last glance in his direction.
• He must have imagined it.
• That’s what he told himself.
• It would be pointless anyway.
• What was the likelihood that he would see you again?
• Whenever he and Yori went to the bar, Leah was the tender.
• You would have a different shift, so he would never see you again.
• But then, he did.
• You were behind the bar, worriedly getting people their drinks as Bucky and Yori walked through the door.
• As soon as they sat down, your eyes met.
• An awe-struck silence fell over the two of you.
• Bucky isn’t one for believing in a higher power, not after all he’s seen and been through, but he wonders, at that moment, about fate.
• You wonder the same as the shared stare continues.
• Then Yori would break the spell and ask, “where’s Leah? Leah works on Wednesdays.”
• “I’m covering for her for a few weeks.”
• “You’re new,” Yori said before he glanced at Bucky with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
• “I am,” you laughed and followed the, seemingly, older man’s eyes to Bucky. “And you two are regulars, right? That’s what Leah told me.”
• “Yeah,” Bucky replied, putting on a nervous smile.
• He cursed himself for being so out of practice.
• He cursed himself for being so suddenly taken by you.
• Luckily, Yori could care less about Bucky’s ability to flirt with people.
• “You two should go on date.”
• Immediately, you and Bucky looked at Yori, chuckling warily before you glanced back at each other.
• “Yori, c’mon, that’s not,” Bucky shook his head.
• “We don’t even know each other’s names.”
• Well, Bucky did know yours, and that put you at a disadvantage.
• He didn’t like that, didn’t like that you didn’t know him.
• Before Yori could introduce Bucky to you himself, Bucky extended his right hand (his flesh hand) out to you.
• “I’m Bucky.”
• Your eyes flicked from his fingers to his eyes before you smiled.
• “Y/N,” you replied, taking his hand.
• “There you go. Now date,” Yori proclaimed, “life is short.”
• “Alright, easy now,” Bucky said when you dropped his hand. “I’m sure Y/N is a busy person, especially with this job.”
• Bucky gestured around to the near-empty bar as he spoke and, much to his surprise, you laughed.
• “Oh yes, so busy.”
• Yori waved a dismissive hand and went on to ask for a drink and some food for himself.
• Bucky watched quietly as you worked, pulling Yori’s favorite beer out and darting into the back kitchen to place his food order in.
• You were a worried whirlwind of energy and, every so often, as you filed in and out of the adjoining kitchen, you met his eyes.
• It took all Bucky had to focus on Yori and his complaining about the neighbors.
• When you interrupted to give them the food they had ordered, Bucky was overwhelmed with relief.
• He had an excuse to look at you then, to speak to you.
• “Thank you,” was all he could muster, along with a shy smile.
• The evening continued like that: a collection of small, stolen glances and the tension of Yori’s words between you.
• Bucky got lost in his thoughts, questioned whether you felt it too.
• Though, as always, Yori grounded him back to reality by the end of the night.
• Tipsy and unsteady, the old man stood from his stool and grumbled something about heading to bed.
• Bucky was helping Yori towards the door when he saw you again.
• You were wiping down a newly emptied table near the exit and you lifted your head, eyes meeting his.
• It took all Bucky had to explain, “I gotta get him back.”
• “Okay,” you said, the faintest of frowns on your lips. “You two have a goodnight.”
• “Yeah, you too.”
• Bucky quickly guided Yori out the door before the man could press a possible date any further
• That didn’t mean that Yori didn’t mention it on the walk home.
• “You should have asked.”
• “I’m not looking for…for that right now,” Bucky pressed, shaking his head.
• Yori shook his head too, but he was chuckling, a lot.
• With furrowed brows, Bucky watched him as he succumbed to an almost full-belly laugh.
• “Oh, you’re a young man,” Yori managed through his chuckle, “you know nothing.”
• Bucky huffed in amusement because he couldn’t deny that.
• Despite being a century old, Bucky Barnes had not truly lived.
• “You do not look for love,” Yori continued, “it finds you.”
• The old man’s words struck Bucky in the chest
• harder than any punch or shock or bullet ever had.
• He barely had time to recover before Yori continued, but with his focus shifted to the noisy neighbors once again.
• Bucky was glad for the distraction, though your smile lingered in the back of his mind as he helped Yori to his door.
• “I’ve got it. I’ve got it.”
• “I’m sure you do,” Bucky drawled disbelievingly.
• “You don’t,” Yori returned, opening the door this his apartment.
• “What?”
• Yori stopped at the entrance of his home and let out a long, heavy sigh.
• “That Y/N. You didn’t make a date.”
• “We’ve been over this. I didn’t but-“
• “What a shame.”
• “Yeah…a shame,” Bucky echoed, tension bleeding out from his body.
• There’s a long pause where the two men sit in the quiet, each one waiting for the other to say something else.
• Yet, they both thought better of it.
• “Goodnight,” Yori said, patting Bucky’s shoulder.
• Bucky held his breath at the touch, a flood of terrible, hazy memories flooding back and renewing his stress.
• In a rush, Bucky replied, “Night, Yori.”
• With a nod of acknowledgment, the old man disappeared within the dimness of his apartment.
• Bucky took a trembling breath before he turned towards his own door.
• His hand reached out to twist the knob, but the action stirred a feeling within him.
• A memory of a few hours before Bucky’s hand extending out towards you as you smiled at him.
• In turn, his hand falls back down to his side and he shakes his head as if to clear it.
• Bucky turned and started back down towards the entrance of the apartment complex.
• A walk would clear his head.
• At least he hoped that it would.
• Yet all Bucky got was rained on.
• A storm rolled in, bringing small, isolated showers with it.
• By the time he was nearby Izzy’s (one of the only places he knew how to get to), Bucky feared getting soaked.
• So, he tucked beneath the oning that hung outside the door to the bar.
• The thick, dark green fabric provided a little protection from the rain, and Bucky savored the fleeting feeling of safety it supplied.
• It lasted only a minute or so before the door to Izzy’s swung open
• and, of course, it had to be you that walked through.
• “You’re back!” You quickly recollected yourself, shaking your head. “I mean, you’re back.”
• “I’m back,” Bucky said, unable to keep himself from smiling at your presence.
• You were smiling too, before confusion furrowed your brow and forced your lips into a frown.
• “Everything alright? Yori okay?” You asked, concern dripping from your tone like the landed rain drops slipping off of the oning.
• “Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to…”
• When Bucky met your eyes, he realized he wanted you.
• But he couldn’t say that.
• He was out of practice when it came to flirting but that would be…creepy.
• “I wanted to apologize for him. He doesn’t have a filter sometimes.”
• You laugh and Bucky felt a heaviness, one he didn’t know he was carrying, lift.
• “It’s alright.”
• A small quiet fell over the two of you, with Bucky just looking at you and you looking at him.
• When you both realized that you were staring, you both chuckled and looked away.
• Your eyes drifted towards the road, the rain that gathered in puddles in the pavement; and Bucky watched as you extended your hand.
• With an open palm, you tested the frequency of the rain fall with a grace so akin to a fairytale that Bucky was winded.
• “You don’t happen to have an umbrella with you, do you?”
• Bucky heard your question, but he only managed to find himself and the words to reply when you turned your head to look at him again.
• “I-I don’t.”
• “You forgot it in your magic Mary Poppins bag?”
• The way you smiled made Bucky think it was a joke, but he had missed the punchline, the reference.
• When you saw that twinge of confusion in his smile, you frowned.
• “You don’t know Mary Poppins?”
• “And if I don’t?”
• Your lips quirked up once more into a wide smile.
• Bucky watched as you teeth sunk into your bottom lip, a thoughtful expression as your eyes flicked from him to the door of Izzy’s.
• “If you wanna come inside to escape the rain, I could explain the reference.”
• Then it was Bucky’s turn to put on a thoughtful expression; though, only for a moment because he almost immediately replied.
• “Yeah, sure.”
• “Great,” you returned and Bucky opened the door and went inside Izzy’s for the second time that day.
• Before you were both inside, you paused and met Bucky’s eyes again.
• “This isn’t a date, is it?”
• “Not unless you want it to be.”
• You never responded to that half-assed offer of a date and
• a strange sort of ritual started formed.
• On the days you worked and Bucky and Yori went to eat, Bucky would drop off Yori and come back.
• Bucky would feign ignorance, tell you that he spent time out of the States for work with family and missed a lot of American pop culture.
• You would tell him all you knew, explain movies he missed, recommend TV shows, books, music anything you thought he would like.
• “I’ve heard of One Direction.”
• “You have?”
• “They trend on that bird app every so often.”
• “You have Twitter?”
• “Not anymore. I never thought people posting text could be so loud….and annoying…and confusing.”
• Nights were spent just talking, exchanging stories.
• Though, of course, Bucky kept a majority of his tales close to his chest.
• In the vaguest of terms, he mentioned Steve, harrowing winters, traveling in the army, and even partaking in a ‘clinical trial’ headed by Russian scientists.
• He told you everything he could without giving himself away.
• He didn’t want to be the ghost of the Winter Soldier, not anymore.
• He just wanted to be Bucky Barnes to you, some guy you met at a bar because a sweet, but sour, old man told you both that you should date.
• There were a few times that he slipped back into a more combat-ready state.
• For instance, the night he almost told you everything, you didn’t greet him outside of the door to Izzy’s.
• He missed your smile at first, then his mind wandered to every terrible possibility.
• Quickly, he rushed inside the bar and scanned the establishment for you.
• You were neither sat that the table you usually shared with him
• nor anywhere in the seating section.
• You were still behind the bar, wearing a twisted expression as a man leaned over the counter and far too close to you.
• Your brow was furrowed in disgust, lips in a scowl, but your eyes were nervous, wary of the leaning man’s intentions.
• That was enough for Bucky.
• He stormed over and circled around the man so he could rest his left hand (his Vibranium hand) on the creep’s shoulder.
• “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but,” Bucky began, “you’re making the best bartender in the borough a little bit too uncomfortable.”
• The man turned and glared at Bucky, but said nothing.
• Bucky shook his head and added, “we can’t have that.”
• With a squeeze of his hand, metal fingers crushed into the meat of the man’s shoulder and he yelped.
• “Watch it,” he spat, trying to recover a facade of dignity after his somewhat embarrassing, high-pitched shout of pain.
• The man shifted his angry eyes from Bucky to you and then back again before he turned around and darted out of Izzy’s.
• “You’re the one that needs to watch it,” Bucky called after him.
• After he was sure that the man was gone, probably high-tailing it down the block, Bucky looked to you.
• There you were, your expression turning up into the smallest of smiles as you began to speak.
• “Best bartender in the borough?” You pressed a hand to your chest, “I’m honored.”
• “It’s the truth,” Bucky said, taking a seat on the barstool directly across from you.
• “Does the hero want a drink?”
• “I’m not a hero,” Bucky mumbled, shaking his head.
• “You just exiled the bad guy,” you pointed out, gesturing towards the door.
• “I’ve exiled good guys too. Sometimes worse.”
• Your brow furrowed as you looked into Bucky’s eyes and asked, “but you don’t anymore?”
• Bucky huffed, in his own disbelief, and shook his head.
• “I try not to, yeah.”
• “Well, if you’re trying then I’d call you a hero,” you said, your expression exuding a warmth Bucky hadn’t felt in years. “Tonight, I’d call you myhero.”
• Right then and there, Bucky wanted to kiss you.
• Instead, he choked out, “so, you’re working an extra shift tonight?”
• “Leah’s running late. I’ll be off soon if you wanna hang out.”
• “Great, yeah.”
• Until Leah arrived, Bucky watched you work: pouring glasses of color drinks, popping open beer bottles, and shuttling food from the kitchen to the customer.
• When you were free, Bucky could tell you were exhausted.
• “Why don’t we skip tonight. You look beat.”
• You gave him an unamused smile, “thanks, Bucky.”
• “I didn’t mean it like that,” he explained in a rush, “just that-”
• “I’m just giving you shit,” you said with a wave of your hand.
• Bucky nodded quietly and you both started towards the door.
• He held it open for you and, as you passed through, you caught sight of the night sky and men across the street, loitering in a nervous way.
• Still in the doorway, you turned and looked up, into Bucky’s eyes.
• “Walk me home?”
• “Of course,” Bucky replied before he could really register what he was saying.
• He didn’t mind it, obviously.
• As you walked, you both talked about strange happenings.
• Bucky even mentioned therapy, as he dropped the newest bit of wisdom Dr. Raynor had provided him with.
• “So, she basically just told you to get a life?”
• “Basically,” Bucky agreed.
• “Therapy is great, it’s good you’re in it, but…she sounds awful!” You threw your arms in the air for emphasis and Bucky was awestruck by how the streetlamp light cast you, in that pose, under a yellow spotlight.
• “She kinda is,” he murmured, unable to entirely refocus himself.
• Before you could delve deeper into how awful Raynor was, you arrived at your front door.
• “This is me,” you said through a groan.
• “You don’t sound happy about that,” Bucky chuckled.
• “I feel bad that our night was wasted.”
• “Not wasted,” Bucky said softly, “we still hung out.”
• At his words, your disappointment metamorphized.
• Frown lines turned smile lines and eyes grew bright, hopeful.
• “Yeah, you’re right.”
• There was a pause then, with just the two of your staring at each other as the dark of night mingled with the sounds of the city.
• In the distance, music played and the fast tempo coaxed Bucky’s heart to pick up the same fast beat.
• “Well, I better-”
• “Yeah, you better head to bed.”
• You started up the steps but stopped when you were on the stair that put you exactly eye level with Bucky.
• Bucky was about to ask what was the matter when you leaned in and pressed the lightest of kisses to his cheek.
• It was so fast that Bucky swore he imagined it;
• but when you pulled away, eyes still bright and bottom lip tucked between your teeth, thinking, analyzing his reaction, Bucky knew he hadn’t.
• “Night, Bucky.”
• “Goodnight, Y/N.”
• Bucky lingered, made sure you got inside alright, and then started back down the street, towards his apartment, a little extra pep in his step.
• Your ritual of night talks continued, but there was no mention of the sweet kiss.
• Not that Bucky minded; though he did find himself lingering on you more and for longer as you talked about everything and anything.
• It continued like that for a while until Sam gave over the shield.
• That spent Bucky into a spiral and not even you could pull him out.
• He never missed a night talk but you could tell he was distant.
• Onthe night he told you everything, you asked about his awayness.
• “Are you okay? You’re quiet, but you’re normally not this quiet.”
• “Yea, I-” Bucky stopped when he met your gaze.
• He couldn’t lie to you. Not anymore.
• “I’m not okay,” he admitted, “there’s…there’s something I have to tell you.”
• “Alright,” you said, settling into your chair, “tell me.”
• “It’s actually a lot of somethings.”
• “I’m ready when you are.”
• Bucky took a moment, thought of you the night you kissed his cheek, and began to tell you his story in all of its gritty detail.
• There were points where you were silent (when he told you how old he really was), where you gasped (when he told you about falling off the train), where you smiled (when he recounted his friendship with Steve), where you almost cried (when he told you the truth of his ‘clinical trial’ with HYDRA).
• When he showed his arm, you reached across the table and took his hand.
• His breathing shuddered as you intertwined your flesh fingers with his metal ones.
• “Can you feel my hand?”
• “What?”
• “You said Vibranium is like a living metal, right? It can sense vibrations and absorb energy. Can you feel my hand?”
• Bucky’s brows furrowed, “I’ve never tried that before.”
• You studied him, your joined hands, quietly and Bucky took that opportunity to really focus.
• He wasn’t entirely sure of all the capabilities Shuri incorporated into his new arm.
• He knew the port the arm attached to was loosely connected to nerve endings to give him more control, but he didn’t know if that would allow him to feel.
• So, he closed his eyes and really tried.
• He wasn’t sure that he felt the warmth of your palm and the dull beating of your heart or if he just imagined it.
• “I feel something,” he said, eyes opening to meet your gaze, “but I don’t know if it’s ‘cause I really want to or…”
• He trailed off, lost in your eyes.
• “It’s something,” you comforted and gave his metal hand a soft squeeze.
• You held his hand as he continued to tell you everything.
• He told you about the most recent happening, with Sam and the shield.
• “Steve gave it to him.”
• “He has a reason for doing what he did,” you said, giving his hand another squeeze.
• “But that shield is…”
• “It’s part of your friend, but it’s not everything he left behind.”
• Something in your words stirred an old ache in Bucky’s chest, but he nodded.
• “Yeah, but I think,” he sighed, “I think I have to talk to him. Figure out what he’s doing.”
• “How long will talking to Sam take?”
• “I don’t know.”
• You nodded and pulled your hand from his as you said, “well, you owe me a night out when you get back.”
• “I’m okay with that,” Bucky said, and he felt every ounce of dread he carried with him ebb.
• Then Bucky goes off to find Sam, talk about the shield, they meet John Walker, the Flag Smashers, and….well, you know the rest.
• And if you don’t, Bucky is sure to tell you all about it when he returns.
• He’s a touch tanner than he was when you last saw him, and when he tells you about Sam’s home in Louisiana, he beams as much as the sun.
• “Sounds like you really liked it there.”
• “It was nice, nice to get away from the city,” he glanced around Izzy’s as he spoke, “but it’s better to be back here. Back with you.”
• You smiled bashfully and Bucky himself felt his face grow warm.
• “I’m glad you’re back,” you managed, shyness lacing your tone, making it feather-light.
• There’s a soft pause, where the two of you meet each other’s eyes then look away….before looking back again.
• Bucky surprises himself when he breaks the silence.
• “So, what do you want to do for that night out I owe you?”
• “I don’t know,” you admitted, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
• “As much as I missed this place, I don’t think we should go to Izzy’s.”
• You laughed and Bucky almost sighed with relief.
• He had missed the sound of your laughter.
• “Yeah, you’re right. Somewhere different….I don’t know where.”
• “How about I pick you up at your place tomorrow at five and you trust me to pick the place?”
• “Alright, but do you remember the way to my place?”
• “No,” Bucky said with a smile, “but if I walk you home again tonight, I’ll be able to remember it.”
• You laughed again and sighed, “that was smooth, Barnes. Very smooth.”
• After another hour or so of talking, Bucky walked you home.
• “Are there any places, besides Izzy’s, that you don’t want to go to?”
• “Umm, a funeral home, pet cemetery…”
• “Okay, okay, I get it. No spooky places.”
• You raised a hand and shook your head, “no, I’m cool with spooky, just not sad.”
• “Spooky, not sad,” Bucky echoed. “Noted.”
• By that point, you both reached your home and were lingering outside.
• Passersby glanced at the two of you, probably eyeing your closeness.
• You were so close that you could feel each other’s heat.
• “So, out here, tomorrow at seven?” You asked.
• “Yeah,” Bucky replied, “tomorrow at seven.”
• He watched as you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and let your eyes flicking across his face, thinking.
• Later, down the line, you would tell Bucky, that you were debating whether to kiss him that night.
• You ultimately decided against it and simply smiled at him.
• “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you said.
• “See ya then.”
• Bucky watched you go inside and started the long trek back to his apartment.
• When he got there, it felt emptier, not quite as homey as the Wilson’s place or how Bucky felt when he was with you.
• Though, he slept well that night.
• During the day, he was nervous.
• Not as nervous as he would have been prior to working alongside Sam, but still nervous.
• He was in his head again, but until seven at night when he saw you walk down the steps.
• You knew him, he had told you everything and you still wanted to waste time with him.
• Bucky smiled at the thought, at you as you strode up to him.
• “So, where are we headed?”
• “To the park,” Bucky said in a breath, still trying to collect himself.
• “The park,” you returned, your smile enduring.
• As you walked towards the park nearby your home, your arms would brush against Bucky’s, a tickling reminder that you were alone together.
• The park was lovely, framed by the sunset.
• Children giggled, clinging to playgrounds and soaring in swings.
• An elderly couple sat at a bench you and Bucky passed, all grey hair and joined hands.
• Eventually, Bucky led you to a patch that was decorated like a haunted landscape.
• Pumpkins, some carved some not, littered the grassy knoll
• Plastic facades of ghosts, ghouls, and haunted houses stood proud, some nearly as tall as Bucky.
• “Wow, you took the spooky thing to heart, huh?”
• “Y-Yeah, you like it?”
• You glanced around before you met his eyes and nodded.
• “I love it.”
• You and Bucky wandered through the maze of gourds and decorations, smiling, cracking jokes about Halloween costumes past.
• “I didn’t get to do much so I was an army man most years.”
• “Oddly fitting,” you teased.
• “What about you?”
• “There were a few DIY costumes over the years,” you admitted.
• Bucky’s face immediately brightened and he chuckled. “Oh really?”
• “Oh yes, and there’s photo evidence to support how terrible they could be,” you smiled and added, “I’ll show you sometime.”
• You both watched as children darted between plastic ghosts, trying to scare each other.
• Eventually, you and Bucky perched yourselves on an empty bench.
• Your shoulders were almost pressed together, your warmth mingling and wrapping around you both, banishing the crisp evening chill.
• “I haven’t been to the park in ages.”
• “Really?” Bucky asked, happy that you broke the silence that claimed you both.
• “I’ve been too busy, with work and just…life.”
• “So I was right when I told Yori that you were too busy for a date.”
• You chuckled and shook your head.
• “Except for now,” you said, turning your head to meet his eyes.
• Bucky couldn’t help the grin that spread along his lips.
• You smiled back at him.
• “This isn’t a date, is it?” Bucky asked, mimicking what you had asked the first time you spent the night talking to each other at Izzy’s.
• “Not unless you want it to be,” you returned, the same thing he told you back then.
• Bucky smiled and nudged his shoulder against yours.
• “I want it to be.”
• “I want it to be, too.”
• There was another stretch of quiet, though easier than the one before.
• You and Bucky stared at each other with all the softness in the world.
• Bucky’s face was relaxed, more than relaxed than you had ever seen him; his lips wore a lazy smile and his blue eyes were glinting under the light of the setting sun.
• That light further bathed him in a warm orange glow that made your stomach twist.
• Bucky was drinking in the look of you too, outlined in the green of the park and beautiful.
• “I also want to kiss you,” Bucky said, his voice tender, almost lost in the wind.
• “Then kiss me.”
• At your reply, Bucky leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a fumbling rush.
• You didn’t care though, so neither did he.
• His hands reached to cup the sides of your face and held you with all the careful fervor he could muster.
• Your hands gripped at the front of his dark red shirt, pulling him impossibly close.
• While PDA might not be your favorite thing, you were so swept up by Bucky’s touch that you didn’t care.
• Bucky, who loves PDA, already didn’t care.
• When you pulled away (‘cause Bucky sure wasn’t going to be the first to do so), his lips were kiss-swollen and eyes half-lidded.
• “Should’ve done it sooner,” he murmured when he met your gaze.
• “Yeah, definitely.”
• After that first date, you and Bucky retained your three times a weeknight talks
• and a weekly outing on the weekends.
• He would check you out while you worked, make sure that people like that creepy guy wouldn’t come around to bother you.
• He would glare at anyone that even looked at you the wrong way.
• “You’re staring,” you said, passing him a bottle of beer.
• “Do you blame me?”
• You gave him a warning glance, but there was a smile on your face.
• When you ask why Yori doesn’t come around with him anymore, Bucky is honest with you.
• “But that wasn’t you.”
• “It was,” Bucky said, “my body still-”
• “I don’t care what your body has done, I care about what you do. And you care about people, Bucky, you try to help wherever you can. You love. That’s you. The man that killed his son wasn’t you.”
• Bucky wanted to kiss you, in the dingey corner of Izzy’s after your shift, but held back.
• On the walk home, he held back;
• but the second you were about to say goodbye, Bucky cupped your face and kissed you, hard.
• The force behind his lips was strong, but his touch was so mild that you melted into him.
• Your chests pressed together, heartbeats melded into one.
• He walked you backwards until your back knocked against the fence.
• You laughed as you nearly toppled entirely into Bucky and broke the kiss.
• You threw your arms over his shoulders as he rested his forehead against yours.
• “Sorry,” he murmured.
• “No, don’t be sorry,” you leaned up and snuck another kiss.
• Bucky pulled his forehead from yours and stared down at you.
• His fingers, with rough pads, traced along your cheek to your jaw and tilted your face up with such a softness that the rush before felt like a hazy memory.
• Just before your lips touched, you asked in a whisper, “come upstairs?”
• “Yes,” Bucky said just before he pressed his mouth to yours.
• The two of you were a stumbling, tangled mess getting to your room.
• Needless to say, even when you reached your bedroom, you both were still a stumbling, tangled mess.
• A softer mess, a more tender, pleasurablemess.
• That night began another ritual.
• Bucky would sleep over at your place a few times a week.
• Eventually, you dedicated a drawer to him, his clothes.
• Though, they weren’t always his clothes.
• “Where’s my red- doll.”
• “What?”
• “Are you wearing my shirt?”
• “Maybe,” you teasing, pulling at the long sleeves of a shirt that was definitely Bucky’s.
• You turned around to face him and he was, literally, shirtless, with his dog tags shining against his tanned chest.
• “I’d like it back.”
• “Come get it then.”
• Spending the night together wasn’t always teasing.
• Most of the time it was sharing movies, ordering takeout, talking, laughing.
• Basically, you catching Bucky up on pop culture.
• “Steve’s list mentions a Star Wars?”
• “It’s a movie series. You wanna watch it?”
• “How many movies are there?”
• “Ten, I think, eleven maybe.”
• “Ten! How many movies can someone make about the same characters?!”
• “You’d be surprised.”
• It’s after one these movies nights when it happens.
• You’re switching off the screen, ready to head to bed when you turn around and see Bucky still sat on the couch.
• His plaid pajama pants rode up a little, disturbing the hem of his tight grey shirt.
• It’s then you see the steady rise and fall of his chest grow a touch more rapid.
• “I love you.”
• His voice is low, gravelly but soft when he says it.
• You thought you misheard him at first and Bucky feared that he said it far too soon.
• When your pause extended, Bucky moved to sit up, to backtrack.
• But then, finally your face broke into a grin.
• “I love you too.”
• “Come ‘ere then,” he said, arms extended and reaching out to you.
• You walked towards him, felt his warm hand and cold hand grab your hips and pull you down into his lap.
• “I love you,” he said again, leaning up for a kiss.
• “I love you,” you echoed, meeting him in the middle.
• Leah makes jokes about how icky the honeymoon phase is.
• You agree, but you explain that you’ve never felt this way before
• and Bucky was first to admit that his encounters with love were limited.
• So, you both hold on to each other; become one another’s safe space.
• Once, Bucky mentioned a vacation.
• “Where to?”
• “Louisiana. You could meet Sam, go out on the boat, get out of the city.”
• “I’d like that.”
• When you do go eventually, you love it.
• The Wilsons welcomed you with open arms.
• “So you’re Y/N,” Sam greeted, “Buck won’t stop talkin’ about you.”
• “That’s saying a lot, because he hardly talks,” you said teasingly, squeezing Bucky’s hand.
• Sam laughed, “oh, I like you.”
• You and Bucky spend days on the docks, the beach, on the boat.
• One night, you were on the dock, watching the sunset.
• When you turned, Bucky was taking a swig of his beer, basking in the sun.
• “This place looks good on you.”
• Bucky turned and beamed at you, “really?”
• “Yeah,” you replied, reaching a hand out to brush through his hair.
• “It’s nice seeing you of the city, not busy. Relaxationlooks good on you.”
• You leaned in, as if to kiss him, but lingered just out of reach of his lips to say, “maybe we should stay a little longer.”
• “I wouldn’t mind that.”
• “I’ll call Leah,” you said, starting to move away.
• Bucky pulled you back, your chin pinched between his forefinger and thumb.
• “Tomorrow,” he murmured, “right now, you’re mine.”
• You were his, just as he was yours, for the next few days.
• Sadly, after another week in Louisiana, Bucky mentioned how Sam needs him back in action.
• “So, he’s stealing my boyfriend?”
• “More like borrowing me.”
• “When do you leave?”
• “After we get back to the city,” he replied, walking towards where you sat on the edge of the bed.
• You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth and Bucky smiled.
• He kneeled down before you, between your legs, and reached up to pull your lip free.
• “What are you thinkin’ about, doll?”
• “I’mthinkin’we just shouldn’t go back.”
• Bucky head fell to the side, strength almost crippled by the sadness of your voice, and leaned up towards you.
• He didn’t have to say anything.
• He poured his agreement, that shared wish, into the kiss you shared.
• Not the last kiss.
• No, that would come far later.

SPIN YOU AROUND MASTERPOST

Masterlist|Not edited yet

1940s!Bucky x Reader

Status:COMPLETE

Bucky was your world and you were his, but that was before he was ripped away by Hydra, he promised he’d always come back to you, despite all odds and more importantly time, will he keep that promise?

1. 1942
2. 1942 x2
3. 2023
4. 1950

Giving Up - Pt.5 | Sneak Peak

“I am standing right here” Your voice no longer warranting the force it had just moments ago, but instead it was cracking at the seams “I am right here” your chest was rising and falling rapidly “I was hurting” a sharp inhale “i am hurting and i’ve always been here” a shaky exhale “I’ve always been here for all of you. I’m here now and you’re all here but no one is ever really there”

• Part One
• Part Two
• Part Three
• Part Four

Masterlist

Part 9

Original Prompt: You are the newest recruit for the Avengers. Your room is right next to the Winter Soldier, and since being here you are awaken by the sound of Bucky restless after his nightmares. One night you decide to go in to check if he’s okay, and your relationship transforms in a way you never thought possible.

Part:9/9

Author’s Note: Okay dang… so it was three years ago when I first started this. My first ever fanfiction, and series. I started writing this cause I was in a very low point in my life and needed to let these feelings all out with a nice silver lining, which is where Bucky comes in. It really helped and I loved the support and requests I have gotten along the way. You guys helped me pull out of it, unfortunately I wasn’t in the same headspace to continue with this story. I hope you all believe me when I say I have truly been working on a way to finish this for the last few years. I wish it didn’t take this long and I am thankful for all of you that are willing to see how this ends. I hope you enjoy it! I love you guys :) <3

Part 1     Part 2    Part 3    Part 4    Part 5    Part 6     Part 7    Part 8

Your Pov

             Maybe if I can get Steve to… no I can’t send Steve down there. They will be expecting it, especially since he knows the layout. Any scenario I can think of plays a loop in my head, leading on a massive headache. Leaning onto the cool table I press my forehead against to alleviate the pain.

             Tears build up in my eyes as exhaustion and frustration course through my veins. How am I supposed to figure this out if I can’t stop crying? Every time I hit a block, which is often now, a wave of overwhelming despair sinks me to my knees. Warm salty tears fall down my cheeks as I meet the hard tile floor. A burning sob rips in my throat but I fight against it. If I don’t let it out then I can push it in, maintain control faster.

“(Y/N)?” A gentle and concerned voice steps next to me. A hesitant arm winds around my shoulder pulling me into a slightly muscular chest. Tony. “We’ll get him.”

I try to speak but the sob erupts from deep inside and swallows me whole. Complete cold darkness fills my veins. His words feel like lies, but I can’t afford to think like that. Tony is right. We’ll find him. I Just hope that when we do, it won’t be too late.

“He is strong (Y/N). You helped him before.” Tony’s voice is powerful over my sobs. He strokes a comforting hand through my hair. Being closer to people has gotten easier. “You’ll help him again.”

We stay in silence, exempting my sobs. Tony just holds me together as I threaten to break at the seams. More scenarios run through my head but I can’t think of anything I haven’t thought of before. There has to be something else. There just has to be, otherwise I don’t know if I could survive truly losing him. Even if I keep breathing, a big part of me will be dead and only Bucky could resurrect me back to life.

“I wish I took Natasha instead of Barnes.” Tony mummers, not thinking I could hear him. That is when inspiration strikes.

***

“If we get in close enough Natasha can infiltrate without being detected.” You continue your pitch. “She can take them down from the inside allowing us to get in and save Bucky. I’ll also need Clint and Thor. I’m sorry Steve and Tony but they would expect you two. That’s why I’m not going in either.”

             The team looks at each other in confusion. They all agreed to my plan but I suppose they believed I would go in too. I knew they would fight with me on going so that’s why I am staying on the quinjet, not that they know that either.

“I gotta say kid,” Tony steps forward. “I thought I was gonna have to pass on your plan but you did good work.”

“Bucky would be proud (Y/N).” Steve interjects.

             A surge of gratitude flows through me as I walk over and hug them both. Since getting back I have been tough to be around, I’m not going to lie. I’ve been working on being close to people again and even though my stomach turns, I do not pull away.

“Alright, let’s suit up.”

Bucky’s Pov

             Loosing track of time in a place like this is easy. I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you. There are no windows to tell if it’s day or night, random tests that leave one tired and disoriented. But for Bucky there are the added nightmares.

             Screaming, he jolts from the ground ready to fight. The nightmares have grown increasingly worse as time continues on. Good memories turned into nightmares of him killing everyone he loves, and they fill is conscious as he remembers his latest dream.

             Dreams of being around (Y/N) snuggled together on the couch, or her showing him new foods blindfolded. Any dream that is remotely good is turned into his worst nightmare. I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you. The only thing he has left to cling to is the fact that he knows (Y/N) is safe at the compound surrounded by her family. It was so easy to offer himself up to replace her in their experiments. Bucky loves her too much to even think about her returning to this hell hole, and he knew she would be safe with the team.

“Get up.” Someone from outside commands.

             Too tired to fight anymore, Bucky does as he is told and heads toward the door. The locks systematically unlock creating a clicking pattern, almost like a song. Coming face-to-face with a guard Bucky expects him to turn around and direct him toward the next torture chamber with his name written all over it.

“Now don’t tell me the untamable mustang is broken.” A friendly female voice jokes beside him. “Don’t let (Y/N) see that.”

             Nat. Bucky recognizes her in an instant. She always talks to him like she has a permanent smirk tattooed on her face. Knowing something is about to go down he centers his mind. He is not about to let any distractions keep him from escaping. I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you.

Your Pov

“I thought you were staying at the compound.” Clint raises his brow.

“God Clint, you really have the dad stare down to a T.” I try to lighten the mood with no success. Huffing I roll my eyes. “Did you really think I was going to wait another minute to see him?”

             Pleased with my answer, Clint walks to the other side of the quinjet to keep Thor occupied. I figured that by now the rest of the team would have pieced together where I am. Honestly, who could believe that I was just going to sit around for him to come home? He would be doing the exact same thing for me. Hell, he switched places with me!

             We land in no time, the boys take their positions like we discussed and wait for Nat to come with Bucky behind her. My plan will work, it has to work because I need it to. I don’t know what version of Bucky will be coming home with us but he’s still my Bucky. I am willing to do whatever it takes to get him back.

             A thunder of bullets invade my senses as Natasha comes into sight. Fear strikes my heart as I wait in anticipation for Bucky. Suddenly there is a cry out and Natasha’s frame falls to the ground. Immediately Clint is out there trying to get to her but someone one else researches her first.

             Bucky swoops down and picks Natasha up with one arm and cradles her body to his chest. My legs start to wobble and I grip onto a panel to keep myself up right. Tears flood down my cheeks as I take in the sight of him. I can’t believe it is actually Bucky, I have been prepared for my plan to fail but I haven’t prepared myself for it to work. I’m bringing Bucky home!

“Nat, we are going to get you home and patch you right up.” Clint’s voice waivers slightly. “You hear me?”

             They lay her down in the middle of the quinjet, but I cannot move. My body wills me over to clean her wound but my mind is trained on Bucky. As if on cue he finally looks up at me. He gives me a perplexed look, like he is trying to decide if I am real or a figment of his imagination. I shiver at the thought of all the horrible things Hydra did to him while in there. Should I walk over to him? Can I touch him? Kiss him?

             A fire ignites in my chest as I walk in a painful slow motion. All I want to do is run into his arms, his safe-warm arms and kiss him. Late at night I would envision various scenarios about being together after we save him. Some where we wouldn’t leave each other’s rooms for days and just hold each other. Others where we would cry constantly at the harsh realities that Hydra forced upon us both.

             Bucky’s expression falls into furrowed borrows and a frown. I stop in my tracks and assess what I should do. Should I wait for him to come to me? I can’t imagine why he is looking at me like this.

“It’s me Bucky, (Y/N).” I say loud enough for only him to hear. “It is really me.”

             Bucky doesn’t say anything. He barely reacts. Pondering for a few moments more, Bucky finally takes a step toward me. I let him take the lead and stay in my spot, my heart racing with anticipation. His body is only mere inches away from my own. Blue orbs circle around me, drinking me in. Every few seconds his hand will twitch, gaining the courage to touch me.

             Eventually his soft fingers graze against my shoulder. His touch sends an electrifying pulse through my core. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and the urge to wrap my body around his. Bucky gets a little more brave and cups my cheek in the palm of his hand. Our eyes gaze into the others and I can see his defense start to melt. Whatever lies they have been feeding him are ripping from the seams. He is deciding what to believe.

             His hand leaves your cheek leaving the skin cold to the air around it. But before I could miss it, Bucky’s arms wrap around my waist as I am pull into his embrace. His chest rests against my own as he sags into my hold. The remaining part of his energy is depleting and so is the rest of his resolve. Bucky hides his face in the crook of my neck, and I begin to feel the light kiss of his fallen tears escaping from his beautiful eyes.

             My grip on him tightens as I feel a few stray tears fall against my cheeks. Warmth, joy, and electricity erupt in my chest. The realization is finally starting to hit me, I have my Bucky back. The only man I have ever truly loved that loves me back with the same fiery intensity.

“I won’t stop.” Bucky’s muffled voice vibrates against my skin. “I won’t stop protecting you, and I…”

             Bucky’s words choke against the side of my throat. Tears of my own impede my vision as I keep my sobs at bay. They are last words he spoke to me on the worst day of my life. His promise, which became my promise.

“I won’t stop loving you.” I finish for him.

A Year Later: Your POV

             Nerves run down the sides of my limbs down to my fingers and toes. Pacing back-and-forth, I think of all the things in my life that have lead me up to this moment. My father who abused me in more ways than one, my aunt who kicked me to the streets, Steve who found me, and meeting Bucky. The love of my life. It has been a year since I got him back from Hydra, half a month before that Bucky switched places with me, and a month before that I was taken by Hydra. It all feels so long ago, but like it was yesterday as well.

“(Y/N),” Nat’s voice breaks me out of my trance. “They are ready for you.”

             I nervously swallow as I offer a nod. With a reassuring smile she turns around toward the door and I follow her lead. Memories of my time with Hydra flood my mind and it is almost overwhelming. I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you. I repeat Bucky’s mantra. He later explained that he repeated those words to himself when being in that cell became too much. As a reminder of why he is there, his promise.

             Descending the stairs I am careful not to trip down them. Nothing is easy when in these heals, but they complete the ensemble. According to Wanda this aspect is very important, I’m sure it is, but I feel like to me there is something else significantly more important.

             I see Wanda a few paces ahead of me. She gives me a goofy wink as the excitement bursts off of her body. A soft giggle dances in my throat that I allow to escape. It is a good day, the perfect day.

“Are you ready?” Tony’s deep voice lures me to his attention. “If not we could always duck out of here. No one would ever have to know. Though I’d probably feel a little bad. He did ask my permission after all. But again only a little.”

             I hit my hip against his in a joking manner that grants me a laugh from him. Wrapping my arm around his I take a deep breath trying to calm what is left of my nerves. Tony knows there is no where else in the universe I’d rather be than right here… or well perhaps a few yards from here.

             Suddenly the music changes indicating that it is my turn. The traditional “Here Comes the Bride” floods the room from a secluded piano. Bucky requested it, still old school at heart. The church doors open wide indicating your presence. Tony and I walk through the doors to the beat of the song. I find familiar faces in the crowd of people taking in the site of me in a wedding dress. The one dress I will ever allow myself to wear.

             My eyes cling to the family I have found at the Avenger compound. The people who always have my back. Rounding the corner I am found face-to-face with him, Bucky. My Bucky. I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you. He stands at the end of the isle in a black tuxedo. His hair slightly shorter than how he usually wears it. The biggest smile with tear streaked eyes marveling as I continue toward him.

             The floor beneath my feet is gone. I’m floating, gliding toward him. Toward my forever. Every last nerve or fear of self-doubt has fled since the moment I laid eyes on him. My grip on Tony’s arm lightens and air fills my lungs. A bone tearing smile rips across my face and I’ve never felt so much happiness in my life. Maybe that’s why I had to go through so much pain and suffering. So I could fully and confidently one day experience this day.

             Standing before me is Bucky, my soon to be husband. Tony guides my hand to Bucky’s who swiftly accept it in his. Being this close allows me to see the how incandescently happy he is and I silently pray that we have a forever of this.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Bucky Barnes and (Y/N) (L/N).” Steve’s voice rings out to the crowd. “I’ve known Bucky for quite some time. Every girl he met had a thing for him, but the only one that ever caught his eye is (Y/N).”

             Bucky’s hand lightly squeezes mine. I sneak a glance at him and find that his radiant smile is still shinning across his face.

“Though the hardest parts of their lives they found comfort in each other which brings us here today to their wedding.” Steve looks first at Bucky with pride gleaming from his eyes. Looking to me I see some tears building up as he looks at me like his little sister. “Bucky repeat after me, I-“

“I Bucky Barnes.” He interrupts Steve and turns toward me. My eyes become lost in his. No one else exists, “take you (Y/N) (L/N), to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for rich or poor, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do we part.” Bucky takes my other hand with his metal one. “I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you.”

             My trance continues as I stare deeply into his dark eyes. I don’t hear Steve begin my part of the vows for me to repeat. All I can see, feel, and hear is Bucky. Everything else is white noise, lost. Taking a deep breath I say the vows like I’ve imagined saying to this man the moment I fell in love with him.

“I, (Y/N) (L/N).” My voice slightly wavers as the overfilling joy takes over my senses. Bucky squeezes my hands once again and I am centered. “Take you Bucky Barnes, to be me husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for rich or poor, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do we part.” Taking a deep breath I continue the last bit. “I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you.”

And you never did stop….   THE END

< Previous

TAG LIST:

@spacemarkimoo@jhangelface0523@youreahandsomedevil@staringmoony@tokoyamisstuff@caffeinatedpajamas 

Summary: It’s been 4 years since the love of Bucky’s life died a horrible death in the hands of Hydra. He has slowly moved on, forming a new relationship with Natasha and his heart has started to heal. The Avengers are dispatched on a mission only to discover that Y/N was never truly dead. Y/N returns into Bucky’s life but she is no longer the same woman he fell in love with. Bucky is forced to make choices between the woman that he loved and the woman he is falling in love with.

Words:1028

Author’s notes: This chapter is just flashbacks mostly. Just to get a better understanding of what happened in the past. Let me know what you guys think!

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

2 YEARS AGO

Natasha tossed and turned, trying to drown out the screaming coming from Bucky’s room. She knew it was none of her business and she was never close to him, but she knew how much he loved Y/N and how hard he took it when she died. After a couple more hours of hearing Bucky’s night terrors, Natasha found her way to Bucky’s room. She could see his shirtless body on top of the covers, his body was covered with sweat and his flesh hand was handcuffed to the bedframe. Natasha cautiously crawled onto his bed and woke him up.

“Y/N?” Bucky looked at Natasha, still half asleep.

“Shhhh. Go back to sleep Bucky.” Natasha rubbed his back slowly, like what Y/N used to do.

“Y/N. I thought I lost you. I was so scared.” Bucky, convinced that the dark figure above him was Y/N, wrapped his arm around Natasha lovingly.

“It’s ok Bucky, I’m here.” Natasha cooed. Ever since that night, Natasha came into Bucky’s bed and pretended to be Y/N to calm his nightmares. Bucky seemed to not remember what happened the next day, so she kept doing it, until he woke up one night and found her sleeping on his bed. Their dynamic changed from then on and they started to see each other as more than friends.

Bucky loved Natasha, he really did. He adored her strong will and her relentless need to make sure that he was happy, but it was never a love that took over his heart. His love for Natasha could never trump his love for Y/N. He tried, but no matter what happened he always found himself thinking about Y/N. Maybe he could never love anyone as much as he loved Y/N, maybe Y/N was his peak. But he did everything he could for Natasha. Showering her with love and giving her gifts after every mission. But it was all to compensate for the guilt he felt for never loving her with his full heart.

Natasha knew she was living in Y/N’s shadow. How could she compare against her? Y/N was beautiful and innocent, like a real-life Disney princess. It saddened her, seeing Bucky’s face when Y/N’s name was mentioned, or when he accidentally says Y/N’s name when they make love. Natasha let it all go because she knew that eventually, Y/N would become a distant memory to Bucky and that their love for one another would eventually overpower his love for her. Eventually, Bucky would love her more than he loved Y/N.

4 YEARS AGO

Y/N woke up sore and bleeding all over. She laid face first in the sand, her hands cut open from the trip through the monolith. As she stood up, her head started to spin. She was in a desert, with nothing but sand dunes for miles and HYDRA had given her nothing to survive on. She can’t remember how many hours she walked in the scorching heat, but she accepted her death has she felt her body weaken with dehydration and her legs buckling from exhaustion.

Mr. Hyde’s men found her lying in the sand in a pool of her own blood. They hauled her onto the back of their horse and took care of her until she was strong enough to walk on her own. She thought it was a blessing, until one of them men got injured and she used her powers to heal him, to show her gratitude for saving her. Their dynamic changed then. The men had found a girl with extraordinary abilities, she was not longer just a helpless girl lost in the desert, she became an asset to Hyde’s gang.

They tied her hands with rope and pulled her along with them like a dog on a leash. She walked for 3 day until they reached the basecamp, and then she was presented to Hyde, like an offering. Hyde liked Y/N right away, she was beautiful and there was a sense of innocence about her that he was attracted to. Mr. Hyde had always taken pleasure to turning innocent people into self-hating monsters, that was his specialty. But Y/N was different, she wasn’t afraid of Hyde at first and she stood up for herself despite his threats. Maybe it was Stockholm syndrome, but the two of them formed an unlikely friendship.

Y/N escaped when Hyde forced her to marry him. She declined his proposal and he got angry. He had turned into the monster they said he was, she was forced into a wedding dress and forced to sleep with him. Despite claiming to love her, she knew that Hyde only wanted to impregnate her, so that he could have a son as an heir. When she got pregnant, she was afraid for her child’s life. She didn’t want her son to grow up with hate and god forbid if she had a girl, she didn’t want her daughter to be traded and sold like playing cards. Y/N didn’t see any other option but to stab herself in the stomach, to protect the child and herself. It broke her soul, she was never the same person since then. Hyde, in his anger, locked Y/N up and forced the doctors to experiment on her. He wanted to make her stronger and expand her abilities because he believed that his future heir would gain the abilities she has. She escaped two weeks later and developed an immunity to fire She’s been running from Hyde ever since, afraid of his anger.

 Present day

Y/N stood in the flames, like a phoenix who had been reborn. Everyone was still engrossed in the scene before them that they didn’t notice Natasha pointing a gun towards Y/N. Bucky was the first one to see the bullet fly through the air and head straight towards Y/N’s head. As he screamed for Y/N to get down, Natasha was pinned down to the ground by SHIELD agents and put into handcuffs. Flames built a wall around Y/N’s naked form, melting the bullet as it passed through. With a sign of relief, Bucky made his way towards Y/N and she stepped out of the flames. He covered her with his jacket and took her to the Avengers compound via quinjet.

“I know who you are!” Natasha yelled as Y/N looked back at her with horror.

You guysssss. What do you think Natasha knows? Who is Y/N? Are you team Natasha or team Y/N? Let me know! And tags are always open!

Tags:

@barnesandnoble13@oneshot-shit@bibitchalicia@marvelbase001@chipilerendi@skeletoresinthebasement@pari0924@vivianbabz@typical0001@perfectlyboring@awinterloveuniverse@stevette60@genlovesdcb@dretjie12@fangirlinghamster@hollycornish@captain-ros3ann3@vougebandit​