Dark!Viking James Barnes, Reader, Steven Rogers

Words: 1020

Warnings: None. This one isn’t dark, just setting up new alliances. 

A/N: Sorry it’s been a while since I updated this. Life has been super crazy and I’m using the computer I use for school, which is not my first choice for my writings. I’ll try to update this more often. Thanks for sticking with me! Enjoy!

Several days had passed since your conversation with James and his desire to start anew. You didn’t buy his repentant man act, whose only goal is to make you see the good in him and begin to put your trust in, but so far, he’s keeping his promises, as few as they had been. No matter, you plan to keep him at arm’s length and would not turn your back on the heathen. You will always keep yourself one step ahead of the Viking, come hell or high water.

The only thing you were having a hard time wrapping your head around was the use of James’ most trusted friend, Steven. You knew the relationship between the two, hell, he was there when the Vikings stormed into your lands and watched as the hedonistic brute slayed your father. The blues of his eyes focused on you when James took you to his ship and locked you into his quarters. He stared at you anytime he came into the Captain’s room, his eyes seeing you lying naked and afraid on the bed after being used as James’ plaything, his gaze never wandering. Steven has seen you at your worst but has done nothing that would make you think his own intentions aren’t as cruel, and he isn’t planning your downfall right along with his best friend.

Which is why you had a mind to keep him at a distance and today would be no different. Today, Steven was to escort you around the village and let the people see you, their Queen, potentially interacting with those whose interest was piqued. James had arranged for his friend to accompany you, saying his presence around you would look favorably with the villagers.

You were skeptical of this. If James was the one his people looked to as their protector, the man that essentially ruled them, why would Steven by your side make a difference? Wouldn’t it make more sense for the Viking ruler to show you around so the people could see the two of you interacting, casting away any doubts and suspicion? That was reason enough to doubt the validity of this new start and you fully intended to proceed with all caution.

“Morning, Princess,” Steven greets you at the door of your abode with a bow.

You curtsy as you would in any formal setting but remain silent. You had no desire to exchange verbal pleasantries and this was not a setting that called for a proper response.

Steven sighs, he must sense the tension but doesn’t speak of it. He offers his arm to you, and you take it with a shrug, the two of you starting your trek around the village.

“Nice day for a stroll.” The man at your side tries to start conversation after moments of tense silence.

“We are not friends, so there is no need to talk.” You smile at a woman carrying a basket of vegetables as she passes you by.

“And what if I’d like to become friends?”

You stop and stare hard into the Vikings blue eyes looking for the lie. “I’m not interested in playing your games and I won’t be made a fool of,” you warn and stomp away, continuing the trek around the village.

Steven catches up to you, joining back at your side. “I’m not here to play games, your highness. I wish to offer you my friendship and loyalty.”

“Loyalty?!” You wave at two young children that are pointing at you, smiling happily in your direction. “Your loyalty and devotion lie with your tyrant friend. I do not wish to be on the receiving end of your Viking loyalty.”

“You’re right,” he agrees as a young blonde crosses your path and hands over a loaf of warm bread. You nod and offer thanks, the girl smiling back and running off, back from where she came. “I’m sure my past actions can be seen as vicious and cruel, but I come to you now to seek forgiveness and offer my friendship and devotion. I cannot stand by and see any further harm is bestowed upon you.”

Stopping in the middle of the road you look upon the Viking. He appears sincere in his words. Truth be told, he resembles a kicked or wounded animal and you wonder if this is another game or if he’s really telling you the truth.”

“And why should I trust you?”

Steven shrugs, and it’s probably the realest thing you can recall him doing. “You can’t,” he admits. “From day one there’s nothing that I’ve done that is cause for you to believe me, but I’d like to earn your faith and in time, win your trust. All I’m asking for is a chance, something I know I do not deserve.”

There’s a vulnerability in his words and presence, you can sense it. This is not the same Viking that stood by and watched as James slaughtered your father, nor the same man that was present when your captor repeatedly had his way with you on the ship. The person in front of you was displaying a softer side, one that you had never encountered before in any of the warriors. Maybe this was something that could be used to your advantage later.

“I do not trust easily anymore. Your friend has driven that from me, and I don’t think I’ll ever find myself a trusting fool as I had been raised to be.” Steven nods but remains silent. “I do realize I need an ally but I’m hesitant to use that term. I’m not sure how loyal you wish to be or if you’re playing the long game and looking for a better opportunity with James. Whichever the case may be, I implore you to choose wisely. I may have started as naive but I’m far from it. You’re either with me or against me.”

Steven takes a moment to think but then smiles. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” He holds out his hand in an offer of kinship.

You grin and take the offered hand. “So, it seems.”

Viking tags:

@ellallheart@sebastianstansqueen@kaithezaftig@supernaturalwintersoldier@buckycap275@learisa​

Forever Tags:

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub@kruscht@palaiasaurus64@breezy1415@sarahp879@supernaturaldean67@averyrogers83@scarlettsoldier@lovely-geek@titty-teetee@geeksareunique@peaceinourtime82@leosandbuckysgirl@the-goddess-of-mischief@mychemicalimagines@awkwardfangirl2014@collette04@notyourtypicalrose@onebatch–twobatch @miraclesoflove@kcd15@xxloki81xx@death-unbecomes-you@thatfanficstuff@hotoffthepressfics@chuuulip@unlikelygalaxygiver@babypink224221@mybabe-buckybarnes @shield-agent78 @the-real-kellymonster@caplanreads@inkedaztec

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

Hero complex - James B. Barnes

Author: theweirdymcweirderson

Characters: Reader, James B. Barnes

Relationships: Bucky Barnes×Reader

Word count: 926

Summary: While on the run Bucky and the Reader encounter a bit of trouble.

Warnings: Pet names, explicit words, teasing, cursing, blood, bullet wound, idiots in love (hehehe). 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 groan tears through your raw throat as you’re giving yourself a mental pep-talk trying to prepare for what is coming and knowing, much to your dismay, that it’s not going to help at all.

“You know, hiding is kinda useless if you keep making noise.”

“Oh, sorry my fucking pain is such a fucking nuisance to you. It’s not like I have a damn hole in my arm from saving your fucking ass.”

“Never asked you to, doll.”

Bucky sends a saccharine smile your way, before he turns back around to make sure no one has found your hideout yet. If you weren’t smack in the middle of the enemy’s lair, you would give him a piece of your mind, but knowing how little it takes for your disputes to escalate, you swallow down your retort and focus on getting the bullet out.

Fuck. FUCK! Fuck me and my fucking need to help his ungrateful fucking ass.

Your teeth sink in the flesh just under your bottom lip, trapping in your scream of pain as shaky fingers dig in your bicep; slippery with blood, the bullet keeps escaping your grasp and it makes you want to shout your frustration to the high heavens. Too bad you can’t.

Once sure that you’re safe enough for the moment, Bucky glances back to check how you’re doing. You haven’t lost too much blood, which is the only upside of your predicament. Tears are on the verge of falling from your eyes, and he feels a pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

He crouches down next to you and takes your hand away; you give him a confused glare but don’t comment as he sets to retrieve the bullet himself. You hiss as he first touches the wound and his disapproving eyes find yours.

“Sorry. Want me to fucking die quieter?”

“You’re not going to die. Stop being so dramatic.”

You feel an unimaginable need to stick your tongue out at him, but since his fingers are about to dig inside the hole in your arm, you decide against it. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

“Bite down on something, this is gonna hurt.”

He’s right, his fingers are bigger than yours, but with the pain making you dizzy you can’t summon the strength to pull it out yourself. Whoever said that there’s strength in numbers, never stopped to consider how weakening getting used to the possibility of relying on others could be.

You bite down on your uninjured hand, hoping for the pain you’re causing yourself to trick your brain from focusing on the pain Bucky is about to unintentionally inflict. It’s useless, you already know that.

Bucky’s eyes find your face, wanting to give you a heads up before starting, and his stomach fills with dread at the realisation of just how screwed he is.

You’re scrunching your eyes closed, teeth gnawing on your hand and he shouldn’t, really, it’s not the time for such thoughts, not when you’re bleeding and in pain and – fuck, what if they find you? But he takes his time and commits the small details of your face to his memory.

Flushed cheeks, wet with the tears you’ve tried to push back; irritated lips bitten raw in your attempt at reigning in the pain; clammy skin, dampened by the cold sweat you both worked up during the chase; Bucky knows he’ll never get another chance to be so up close to you.

He drowns the thought urging him to push the stray strands of hair stuck to your face and clears his throat; professionalism is his strongest suit.

“On three.”

You nod once, pull in a long, shuddering breath through your nose and sink your teeth a little deeper in your hand. Completely, undeniably useless; the second his forefinger digs in to locate the foreign object, you feel your soul on the verge of leaving your body.

Fucking hero complex.

The suffering comes out as a sobbing whimper, and your widened eyes find Bucky’s face; teeth releasing your limb because – that trick never work, does it?

He’s even more handsome up close. Straight nose and full, plump lips. Your brain focuses on counting the light dusting of freckles across his skin; marvels at the long lashes creating the softest of shadows on each delicate flutter. Oh, he’s prettypretty.

Bucky glances up, your eyes lock and for a second he actually seems taken aback by your staring. One beat. Two.

His eyes are so bright and so dull at the same time.

The shadows of his past cloud the pools of blue Steve has told you about. You knew that, knew what to expect when they made you teammates; listened, memorised and dreamt of all the information Natasha and Tony had given you. He’s a ghost story and yet…

You try to blink away the thoughts, afraid he might catch on to your inner ramblings. One blink. Two.

His fingers pull out the bullet and your nails dig in his quad with everything you have left. Neither of you can tell when your hand found his thigh. He doesn’t complain, though, doesn’t even flinch at the action.

“What the fuck happened to ‘on three’?”

His lips tilt at the corners, if he wasn’t a breath away, you would never have caught the action.

“Changed my mind.”

“You’re the fucking worst.”

“And you’re fucking welcome, doll. Now, shut up before you get us caught.”

You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at his back. Ungrateful ass.

Find more stuff here<3

Heartbreak Summer 4

Bucky Barnes x Reader, College AU

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes broke your heart two years ago. Now, after settling down finally in college with your group of old and new friends, he ́s transferred into your school, and maybe back into your heart. 

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Angst galore, uhhh Buckys old house, more thor x reader a tiny bit tho

A/N: TAG LIST IS CLOSED! 

Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading loves, I hope you guys like it!

*Gif not mine, credit to owner*

College AU - Bucky x Reader

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes broke your heart two years ago. Now, after settling down finally in college with your group of old and new friends, he ́s transferred into your school, and maybe back into your heart.

series masterlist

“I don’t get why they have to practice so early, I mean classes just ended for the day.” Wanda groaned as you all sat on the bleachers, blankets around your bodies as you all huddled for warmth, trying to shield from the snowflakes that would grace your cheeks and hair. 

“You’re tellin’ me, I have four more hours until it’s socially acceptable to go to bed.” You groaned, rubbing your gloved hands together, trying your best to create any form of friction for warmth. Wanda did the same, but instead clutched her hot chocolate to her chest and let out an annoyed mumble of words you didn’t understand.

The football team always practiced from three to eight. Five hours of drills, pain, and sweat. You grimaced at the thought. Now of course you didn’t have to be there. But it was tradition. No one missed a single practice since that time Steve had an asthma attack on the field in his freshman year of highschool. Vivid memories of that day replayed in your mind, the absolute terror on everyone’s faces as he gasped for air. No one knew where his inhaler was, until Bucky came racing out of the locker room with it in his hand. Of course you didn’t know who Bucky was until a year later, but that day you could have sworn you started to look at him differently. 

So you all made a vow, you, Wanda, Nat, Tony, to never miss another practice, rain or snow. And now was the time when you all started to regret it. Whenever it got colder out, you all talked about how stupid of an idea it really was, complained about how you should end the stupid pact. Regardless no one ever did. You were all glad for the downtime, to just relax and chat over coffee or hot chocolates, and occasionally muffins from the stand outside of campus. 

During highschool, it was also where you and Bucky could flaunt the amazing part of dating a football player. The quick pecks on the lips after he made a good pass, or kicked a practice field goal made your heart soar. Or when he’d run up to you, as you screeched trying to get away from his stinky self, and pick you up in his arms peppering sloppy kisses to your face when it was a good day. 

But it also meant the bad parts. Him being stressed out after a practice gone wrong, the silence on the car rides back home, and tears shed because of one too many accidental cleats to the stomach during tackles. 

“Hey anyone know what the theory for-”

“No Peter” Everyone mumbled out of habit as the brunette flipped you all off and went back to scribbling in his physics notebook. 

“Tony why don’t you just help him. It’d save all of us a headache.” 

“Natalia, my dear, sweet little Natalia, he is my prodigee. I can’t just go around doing things for him. Parker here needs to learn to do them himself, then we’ll talk.” 

“Well if you would just-” 

“Zip it. I’m trying to watch the game.” Tony hissed, only now paying attention to the practice on the field. Internally groaning, you rested your head against Natasha’s shoulder and let your eyes focus on the grey clouds moving above you.

About an hour of trying to see what shapes you could find, practice finally ended early. 

“Thank god for Saltzman getting injured, otherwise I would still be freezing my ass off.” You muttered, tugging your maroon zip-up hoodie tighter around your body. Everyone nodded in silent agreement as you sat in the Student Union waiting for the guys to get back from the locker rooms. 

The Student Union area was smaller than most colleges, but was packed to the brim with things to do. An air hockey table was in the back corner, along with a small ping pong table, bright orange and blue paddles laying on top of it. There was a small stand by the front doors, filled to the brim with various snacks, ramen noodle options, drinks, and hot beverage machines. 

It was the center of the campus, but most people, obviously, shied away from it when giving tours. Does anyone really want to see where their kid is going to ditch off work to hang out with their friends? Didn’t think so. 

Thankfully it was free of cameras and a majority of the staff didn’t care enough to stop any alcohol consumption that went on in there. Always muttering something about ‘At least they’re all in one place…’ Which you’d think would cause more concern, but apparently not. 

“Whatever, I’m getting something to drink.” Standing up, you pushed through small crowds and walked your way up to the front of the coffee station. Your eyes scanned over the small menu for the third time, hoping anything different than your usual would jump out at you. Normally, you wouldn’t have given it a second glance, choosing to order a simple caramel latte, sometimes with two shots of espresso to wake you up in the mornings, but hey nothing stays the same.  

“One hot chocolate please, with a kick.” 

The student behind the counter nodded and began mixing together the packet with hot water. Following with a dash of vodka and cinnamon. He topped the mug with whipped cream and handed it over to you with shaky hands. 

“Are you feeling alright? You never order hot chocolate.” A rough voice called out from behind you, turning around you rolled your eyes playfully and let out a faint chuckle. 

“Just not feelin’ the caffeine today, ya’ know?” 

“Oh but you’re up for a splash of happy water?” Thor asked, pulling out his wallet and handing the cashier the five dollar bill. 

“I had that you know… you don’t have to buy my drinks all the time.” You scolded, poking your pointer finger against his chest. He simply laughed, and moved his hand to yours, choosing to interlock your fingers instead of just swatting your hand away. 

Shooting him a timid smile you held the steaming mug in one hand, ignoring the possibility of small blisters, and chatted away with him about how practice went on your way back to the table. 

“Anyone know where Rogers is, I need our notes from class back.” You muttered, plopping down against one of the plush red couches, joining the rest of your friends. 

Bucky had seen your whole interaction with Thor, and there was a permanent scowl on his face the entire time. Of course he knew it wasn’t his place to say anything but it still made his blood boil in his veins. His chest felt constricted, heart beating furiously in his chest as he found it harder to breathe. The sight reminded him he wouldn’t be yours again, unless he somehow found a way to pull you back in again. 

That used to be him on your arm. Laughing shamelessly at some dumb thing Steve did, or you playfully slapping his arm as he whispered something suggestive in your ear. 

He let out a strangled sigh, and ran his fingers through his sweat stricken hair. “Sorry Doll, thinkin’ he might’ve gone up to the apartment to change and grab warmer clothes for the incoming storm.” He leaned back against the cushion and looked over at you. “I’m heading there now, I can drive you if you’d like.”

“I-uh no it’s-”

“Nonsense, c’mon I know you’ve missed Becc’s and my Ma.” He winked and held his hand out for you to take. 

He wasn’t wrong, you did miss his family, maybe even more than him, and you and his sister had a lot to talk about. So it was either get your ass in gear and actually finish your homework, or stall and head out. 

“Guess it wouldn’t hurt. I’ll see you guys later.” You said with a small grin as you grabbed your bag from the couch and swung it over your shoulder. Bucky gave you a small smile as he followed beside you out to the front doors, his hand ghosting over the small of your back, smugly grinning to himself, knowing Thor was watching. 

“Fuck!” You hissed as you slammed the door of Bucky’s black Jeep shut and attempted to brush the now melted snowflakes from your hair. 

“I hate this weather.” Bucky muttered as he slid into the drivers side and slammed his door shut. Quickly turning on the car and blasting the heat. As you waited for the car to heat up, you reached for the aux cord and plugged it into your phone, “Doll you better play something worthy of my ears, or I might just cry.”

“Oh hush, I always play good music.”

“Yeah like what? The Jonas Brothers?”

“You leave Nick, Joe, and Kevin alone!” You shrieked, reaching over and smacking his upper-arm, which drew a hearty laugh from him as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

“Relax, you know I love a good jo bros song.” 

“You better.” You hissed, shooting him a glare which had him raising one hand up in defense. 

The car ride was long, and painfully quiet other than the soft sound of the radio, and the blasting of the heat. You brought your legs up to rest on the dashboard and leaned your head to the side to look out the window. 

The snow was coming down hard and the wind only made it worse. Bucky had the windshield wipers going at their full speed, the car going slower than 25mph. Two miles away from his Ma’s house and it would take hours. 

“So I never did get to ask, how was Europe?” You asked, glancing up at him from your phone as you scrolled through songs.

“It was great, beautiful even. Lots to do, and the legal drinking age is a plus, they certainly have much better beer.” His whole face seemed to light up as he continued on about his adventures, “When we actually get to my Ma’s I’ll have to show you the photos I took. The trip was great, albeit lonely but worth the experience.” He hummed, his fingers drumming along the steering wheel to the gentle sound of Dean Lewis playing in the background. 

“I can imagine. I’d sell a kidney to go. I remember when we would talk about living there when we were older. You were so adamant about not living in London.” You chuckled as he rolled his eyes, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“Hey! It’s expensive.”

“Yeah but we would have figured it out… like everything else…” You paused and looked out the window, almost like a dumb rom-com cliche, “Almost…” 

The car became eerily silent and you cleared your throat moving forward to switch the song to something more upbeat. “Anyways uh-”

“Fuck! No no no!” Bucky cursed and you felt the car slowly roll to a stop, sputtering out and then dying. 

“Oh fuck…” You muttered, as he frantically dug through his pocket for his phone. Dialing a number, he brought the phone up to his ear and climbed out. “Stay here.” He mumbled before slamming the door shut. 

Within a few short minutes the car started to get chilly again, and you groaned wrapping your coat even closer around you, if it were possible. The door was pulled open and quickly shut again and Bucky was sat there rubbing his gloved hands together and cursing under his breath. 

Tentatively you reached over and brushed a few snowflakes from his now bright red face, nose and cheeks nipped at by the cold air.

“Tow companies can’t come out until the morning, so either we sleep in this old piece of junk, or walk the mile to my Ma’s.” You glanced out the window, braving for the worst and grunted, shoving the door open. 

The second the harsh wind hit your face you winced, regretting your decision. But you decided against getting back in that car and walked around to the other side of the road. Bucky popped open the trunk and pulled out his and your bags, along with an old blanket. Your breath hitched as you ran your hands over the soft fabric.

“You kept it, for all this time?” 

“To be fair I didn’t have my car and I forgot I even had it. You can have it back, not like I have any use for it.”

Okay that stung a bit.

He slammed the trunk shut and tossing it at you. You stared down at the dark blue fleece in your hands and let out a muffled sigh.

This stupid fabric held so many memories for you and Bucky. He had bought you it when you mentioned around christmas time five years ago that you needed a throw blanket that you could just have hanging around.

You would sit on it with him when he’d take you to the drive in movies, and you’d curl up against him, laughing as he made stupid jokes and comments about the movie that was playing. 

Harsh winds ripped and pushed at one side of your coat, your body acting as a barrier for it. Bucky walked beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, scarf pulled over his growing stubble, and occasionally bumping his arm into yours. 

“I don’t t-think I’ll ever hate anything… more than… this.” Your teeth chattered as you looked over at him, blinking rapidly to remove snowflakes from your lashes. 

“I know doll, we’re almost there…” He blew out and you watched as his breath seemed to freeze as it passed his lips, floating off into the sky, the wind taking it away. 

The finals steps up to his mother’s house was filled with staggering feet, and hot tears seemed to freeze as they slid down your cheeks from the cold. 

Bringing a hand up to knock, Bucky abruptly pushed past you and slammed through the front door, stumbling into the house and dragging you after him. You turned, and slammed the door shut, bracing against the harsh wind and snow pouring in as the smell of hot chocolate and warm apple pie filled your nose. 

“Buck is that you? I- OHMYGOD!” And just like that you were being slammed into again and stumbled back, falling against the carpeted stairs. 

Bucky yanked his sister off of you and hoisted her up to her feet, and then reached down and took your hand in his own. You jumped to your feet, and hastily brushed hair away from your face. 

“Becca, I love you, but please don’t knock me over again.” You teased pulling her in for a proper hug. She giggled and you felt her shake her head against your sweater. 

“Hey Ma?” Bucky called out, dragging his feet against the carpet in an attempt to remove the snow from his boots. 

“Yes my love?” Winnifred called out, her familiar voice making shivers run down your spine. 

You hadn’t heard from her in what felt like ages. Rushing past Becca, and Bucky into the kitchen you shyly looked up at her, a cheeky grin drawn on your features. 

“Sweetie!” She shrieked, dropping the freshly baked pie to the counter and racing towards where you stood. Winifreds’ arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against her. “How are you?! Goodness it has been ages!” She rushed towards you, tugging off her oven mitts in the process and pulled you in for a tight hug.

“How have you been darling?” She cooed and any bit of cold left your body at her silky voice. 

“I’m hanging in there, what about yourself?” You spoke, voice cracking as you pulled away from her. 

“Oh you two must be frozen! Here let me pour you some cocoa.” Winnifred rushed around the kitchen, putting the kettle on the stove and preparing two mugs. “Bec’s why don’t you take (Y/N) upstairs, and help her get settled.” 

“Ma I think I can-” 

“Absolutely not mister, we are having a talk.” Winnifred interrupted her son and shot him with a cold glare motioning for him to sit at the kitchen island. Bucky grumbled a small ‘help me’ under his breath as he brushed past you, making you chuckle. 

“So how’s college been?” Becca asked excitedly as she helped you set up the Buckys old room. However you zone out when the memories hit you like a freight train. The now blank walls cause tears to form in your eyes, lip quivering as your hand reaches down to brush against the familiar and plush bed sheets. 

The warm light from the bedside lamp coats the room in a gold glow and suddenly you feel yourself floating with happiness, like you did in highschool. Happiness overwhelms you as you look around the room, slowly, to take everything in. 

The stain where Bucky got the legendary nose bleed, that you and Becca tried to clean for what felt like hours. You guess it never did fully come out like you had hoped. 

The crack in the window where you threw one to many rocks at in order to wake your then lover in the middle of the night. 

Childish feelings that you’re still chasing the high of. 

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice, slow and rough washes over you like a bucket of ice water. “Sorry, probably shoulda told Bec’s not to set you up in here…” He clears his throat, startling you as the floating feeling goes away and now your feet feel like cinder blocks, weighted to the shagged carpeting beneath you. 

“N-no it’s okay! Unless you uh, want your room back…” He chuckles and shakes his head. 

“Don’t sweat it doll, I’ll take the guest room.” And with that he turns and disappears out through the door. 

Collapsing onto the twin sized bed, a sigh escapes you. 

You had stopped counting the days since he left after about four weeks. He had reached out to you, just to check in but you ignored it. Your heart breaking at the sight of his dumb letter, so you hid it away. 

Leave it to Bucky to send a fucking letter, you thought to yourself, as you tossed it into your desk drawer, never to be opened. He always was a hopeless romantic. 

But in the days he was gone, and even now you miss the dip in your mattress where he used to lay. The soft kisses he’d leave on your skin, and the soft breaths in the crook of your neck. The way his hair fell over his eyes, laughing softly as you tried to fix it, but always giving up in the end. He was apart of you, he branded himself into your skin, and his love was a drug to you, seeping into your veins, and you were tired of the withdrawals, yet fearful of the risks. 

You walk slower down the stairs than you’d like too. Eyes dragging over old photos on the wall, that held so much to the Barnes family. You pause halfway down the steps at a photo of you, kissing Bucky’s cheek at prom. He had insisted on a grey suit, with you in a red dress. He was more into fashion than you, so you went for it unknowing that you two were completely off theme for the magical night. 

“Buck! Everyone is staring at us, you said we wouldn’t stand out.” Crossing your arms with a pout, your boyfriend let out a snort.

“Face it I lied, but you look radiant, better than anyone else here. Now come have a dance with me won’t you love?” He smiled, a genuine smile. One that he kept reserved for you, one that made you fall more in love than ever. 

“Fine, only if you promise not to embarrass me.”

“Sweetheart, when have I ever embarrassed you?” 

“In case you were curious, no Ma still hasn’t taken down the photos of us.” Bucky interrupts your flashback, a cold hand now resting on your upper back. 

“Neither has mine,” You admit, eyes darting to your hands as you begin to pick at your nails in embarrassment. “Funny though, she always loved you a bit more than me.” He laughs at that, a full body one that has you worried you’ve said something wrong. 

“Doll, your mom would put stars in the sky if it meant seeing you happy. So would mine actually.” He rubs the back of his neck, a shy grin on his face. You nod, staying quiet as you look over the photos on the wall once more. 

“I’m still…” Bucky clears his throat, his hand tugging at the collar of his shirt. “I-uhm… fuck it, I’m still- here for you, yeah… a-always.” He mentally slaps himself across the face for chickening out. He stares down at you, this entire time. Him being back, the trip back to his old house, all he’s been wanting to do is grab your face and kiss you. So, fuck it, he thinks as he carefully grabs your cheeks and pulls you flush against him, his lips crashing into your own. 

You don’t really know what to think, or do as you watch Bucky, almost in slow motion pull you closer and bring his lips to yours. Butterflies fill your stomach, your heart thumping wildly in your chest like a tiger wanting to break free of its cage. 

Then everything turns to bliss, you feel younger, free, full of love and passion. So your fingers grab at his sweater, pulling him closer to you begging for more. Your lips move in rhythm with his teeth bumping and scattered breaths. 

And then reality sets in. Here you are standing in your ex boyfriends stairwell, in his moms house, making out with him. 

You whimper, pulling yourself away from him. And for a moment your brain and heart become one, urging you to go for more, urging you to jump back into his arms and kiss those delicious rosey lips again, have him pull you into his room and pin you against the bed like he would when you were younger. Your breathing picks up, and you shake your head shoving past him and into his old room. 

“Y/N wait!” He calls after you, and the echoes of his heavy feet racing up the stairs makes you panic, slamming the door. 

Bucky pauses in front of the door as he hears the soft click of the lock, his heart breaking in two. He should have waited, should have fucking waited.

He runs a hand over his face and groans, making his way slowly down the hall and into the guest bedroom.

–

TAGLIST:@thatsbucknasty​@itz-kira​@cassandras-musings​@petlaufeyson​@itzmegaaaaaaan​@ambrosenerd@thatoneslytherinbeater​@sebastianstan-posts​@retrxbarnes​@nervosaa​@vvich3st3r@lost-in-t-h-e-abyss​@spn-obession​@greeneyedgirls4​@learisa​@avipshamitra​ @uaterer​@aletteredaffair​@formulafun@smexy-bucky-waifu​@jitterbuck@marvelsbitxh​@justanothergirlwithdemons​@blueeyedboobear​@ladymidnightt​@greatballsofeffingfire​@kaithezaftig​@cookies186​ @buckysthing​@postredetucora​@coraz0ndcristal​@mc225g​@mywinterwolf​@section-79@eves-library​@shadowsndaisies​@thefridgeismybestie​@avashroom​@geeksareunique​

Over The Love (social media AU) pt 10.

Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Part

Heading back to your hometown for college, you’re excited for new adventures with your brother Steve and his new friends, as well as your old ones. But what happens when Bucky Barnes, your brothers best friend since kindergarten starts flirting with you? Can you both make is past your overprotective brother? Or will one of you crack under the pressure of keeping it a secret?

A/N: HII! okay first i want to say i am so incredibly sorry for this being so late. the pandemic really knocked me on my ass and i’ve had a lot of personal issues. plus i didn’t really know where to go with this but now i think i do so hopefully you guys enjoy. thank you so much for sticking by me, i hope you enjoy much love to you all ❤️

taglist:@inez-lannister-stark-martell@chloerinebarnes@momobaby227@laneygthememequeen@p-marie-sp@ccolz88-blog@retrxbarnes@buckyinantarctica@viarogers@veronawrites@archangelslollipop@gaya-is-weird-af@cap-just-said-language@ravenkake@miss-nerd95@oh-hey-janina@blonddnamedhandz@supervengerslock@valkyriesryde@inquisitor-selvala@quokkatrash@merigoldcaroline@stuckonjbbarnes@myfriendstexts@ilovesupersoldiers@starbxcks@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked@clarinette07

Over The Love (social media au) part 9

series masterlist

main masterlist

Heading back to your hometown for college, you’re excited for new adventures with your brother Steve and his new friends, as well as your old ones. But what happens when Bucky Barnes, your brothers best friend since kindergarten starts flirting with you? Can you both make is past your overprotective brother? Or will one of you crack under the pressure of keeping it a secret?

AN: hiii!! so probably only going to have a few more parts of this but lmk if you guys have any input on what you would like to see ❤️! also TAGLIST IS CLOSED

taglist:@inez-lannister-stark-martell@chloerinebarnes@momobaby227@laneygthememequeen@p-marie-sp@ccolz88-blog@retrxbarnes@buckyinantarctica@viarogers@veronawrites@archangelslollipop@gaya-is-weird-af@cap-just-said-language@ravenkake@miss-nerd95@oh-hey-janina@blonddnamedhandz@supervengerslock@valkyriesryde@inquisitor-selvala@quokkatrash@merigoldcaroline@stuckonjbbarnes@myfriendstexts@ilovesupersoldiers@all-the-fandomss@starbxcks@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked@clarinette07

if there is a line through your username it means i couldn’t tag you :// plz tell me if i spelt ur username wrong tho !! i do that some times lol

Hello, everyone!

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!!

————————————-

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.

Tags: @sebastian-stan-is-my-love @mississippifangirl​

NEW DARK!BUCKY SMUTTY SERIES IS COMING UP

Here’s a part of the Prologue for

The Lone Wolf

“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.

Who’s up for it?

Spyductive, isn’t he? - Prologue

Inspired by this post

No Matter Where You Go, There You Are

“I’ve got everything figured out, but you’ve got to be the one to help.” The leader of the group looked at his friend dead in the eye.

“No.” The ex-spy said, as he rolled his eyes, not allowing his friend, and tactician, to finish this sentence.

“Come on! It won’t cost you anything!” Another one of his friends claimed.

“No!” The grumpy man’s voice radiated finality. He wasn’t going to go back.

“You’re the only one of us who isn’t exactly known.” The redheaded woman said.

“I already said no! Now leave me alone.” The bite in his words didn’t go unnoticed by the others.

“Just hear him out!” His best friend begged, his eyes pleading.

“Fine. You’ve got thirty seconds.”

“28, a librarian. 3 cats, 3 dogs. From a rich family, had a hard childhood, hates the family. Single for 28 years of her life. Was in live once, when she was a kid. She’s our only way in. You’re the only one whose face isn’t plastered up on billboards, you’re the only one who can seduce her. ”

“What’s her name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N” He took the picture into his hands, looking at her. Her eyes seemed somewhat familiar to him. He didn’t know what could be familiar. She is just an ordinary librarian after all.

“Wait, where are we trying to get in this time, Stark?”

“The CIA.”

“Why?” He was suspicious. A CIA librarian is still just a librarian. He knew they are planning something, and that, since they desperately wanted him to participate, it was something big. Why would his friends, a bunch of scientists, actors, and rich kids, who have been leading the secret life of spies and criminals for ages, be up for THIS?

“There are some…unresolved businesses between me and them.”

“From your early hacking days?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll help.” He sighed.

“Welcome back, Spy Barnes!”

“Yeah. I’m back.”

——-

A/N: I’ve got exams until Friday, as soon as that passes, I’m posting as much as I can. I had to write it, since no one else did

Inspired by @tygermama ’s post

@lostinthoughtsandfeelings here it is. Hope you’ll like it

Masterlist|Send Me Your Requests!!!

Warning(s): swearing,very sad bucky, mentions of PTSD, mentions of violence & psychological abuse

You were used to something waking you up between 3 and 4 A.M. every night. No matter how badly you tried to will yourself back to sleep, your slumber never came. So usually you made your way out into the kitchen to make some tea and maybe finish yesterday’s crossword.

This time was absolutely no different, except the kitchen had already been occupied. You stopped short, standing in the doorway silently for a moment to take in the scene playing out before you. Bucky sat in one of the barstools at the island counter, eyes and nose bright red. You watched a few tears stream down his cheeks. Now, you’d never been close to Bucky. He never made an attempt to get to know you, and you respected that. You gave him his space to get adjusted to life at the Compound, completely unbothered by his social circle only really including Sam, Steve, and occasionally Natasha. Cap had voiced to you and the rest of the team that Bucky still felt as though he was a danger to everyone around him; that he wouldn’t involve himself with the rest of the team until he knew that he wouldn’t be a hazard, a liability.

But the way Bucky watched his metal arm move with a mix of dejection and pure hate pushed you forward into the kitchen.

“Hey, Bucky,” you greeted, trying not to make it obvious that you’d seen him cry. You headed straight for the cabinet. Bucky didn’t respond, only sniffled and wiped his nose with his flesh hand. “Want some tea?” you asked, nonchalantly glancing over your shoulder at him as you reached up to grab your favorite mug.

He nodded slowly and you reached up to grab his mug. You began to make sleepytime tea for the two of you, not pressing for conversation any further. You put the kettle on the stove, doing your best not to look back.

“What’re you doin’ up?” Bucky inquired so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it. You glanced over at him only to see him watching you pensively, brows knit upward.

“Can’t sleep,” you answered. “Did you have another dream?” Bucky nodded timidly.

“It feels like they’re just getting worse the longer that I’m myself,” he admitted. You didn’t say anything, only leaned against the counter beside the stove. Bucky continued on, “And this…”  —Bucky gestured to his metal arm— ”this constant reminder of what I’ve done… it doesn’t help me much. And I never wanted to be a burden, so of course, I can’t talk about this with Steve… or… Nat or—” A look of panic crossed the Sergeant’s face; he looked as though he had become vexed with himself for opening up at all, especially to someone like you.

“You know, it’s okay to share things like this with me,” you began. “I don’t mind hearing it. You can’t expect to carry this weight alone forever.” Bucky smiled a little at this, but he didn’t look you in the eye. You wondered if it was some form of shame he carried, shame that he’d felt he was being so weak.

“I thought that I found a way out, you know? I really believed that if I ran, if I got away, I’d be alright… But there are reminders everywhere I go, everywhere I fuckinglook. The nightmares are still tearing me apart,” The soldier rested his hands on the countertop as the kettle began to whistle. You poured boiling water into the mugs and carried them to the island. You stayed on the opposite side of the counter though.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say my name before,” you replied, giving him a warm smile. He sniffled again, taking a sip of tea.

“Yeah?” he chuckled, and that made you happy. But you could tell that Bucky was still unbelievably shaken by his most recent night terror. He, his eyes glued to the countertop, let out a heavy, shaky breath before speaking up again, 

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything,” you answered, your smile falling a little.

“I’m so scared that I’m going to end up hurting, possibly killing, someone I really care about. It haunts me, Y/N.”

“Is that what you dream about?”

“Sometimes,” Bucky replied. You were a little surprised by his openness, his sudden willingness to talk to you, let alone tell you about his traumas. He continued, “and sometimes they’re not as bad. Sometimes I have dreams of when I wasn’t… when I wasn’t the monster HYDRA made me.” He rested his forehead in his right hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just sorry that I’m unloading all of this on you; you shouldn’t have to even think about this.”

“Hey, I asked, didn’t I?” you asked comfortingly. In a moment of thoughtlessness, you rested a hand on his forearm. He jolted slightly. You yanked your hand away nervously.

“God, I’m sorry, Bucky,” It came out as a whisper. He looked you in the eyes finally, a small smile on his lips.

“No, I’m sorry. It just startled me. I didn’t expect it.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Y/N. I’m sure.”

Before either of you could say another word, Steve came into your peripherals.

“Whoa, hey. Didn’t expect to see you both up,” the Captain commented, earning a small laugh from Bucky. His soft laugh caught you slightly off guard.

“Why’re you up, Cap?” you asked.

“I had to pee and heard you kids talking,”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” you replied.

“I’m older than you,” Bucky commented.

“Inconsequential information, Bucky,” Steve looked between the two of you, grinning. “I am glad you’re making friends.”

“I like her,” the soldier confirmed. Bucky gave you a smile before getting out of the chair. “I’m gonna try to get a little sleep, though. Thanks again, Y/N. ‘Night, guys.”

“Anytime, Bucky,” you said softly. Bucky raised his cup of tea to you before taking a long drink. He picked up his mug and headed right past Steve, back toward the bedrooms. Steve stood there for a moment, waiting until he heard the sound of Bucky’s bedroom door closing.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said. You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Why’re you thanking me?”

“Just… for being a friend, I guess. It means a lot that you’d talk to Buck. He’s not so open with others anymore,” Steve explained. “I’m glad he’s starting to realize that no one sees him as the monster he thinks he is.”

“Anytime. I’m always up at this time anyway. He’s a good man,” you answered.

“Besides, I knew this would happen sometime,” Steve declared, beginning to head down the hall toward the fitness center.

“Why’s that?” you called after him.

“He thinks you’re cute!” the Captain laughed.

You spat out your tea, cheeks flushing red. “WHAT?”

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.

The Man with the Metal Arm (Part 12)

Here’sPart 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, bullet wounds, pain, kinda angsty, then cut, then angsty, them cute again, pretty good since it’s been a while.

A/N: I KNOW the last part left a cliff hanger and then I didn’t write for this series for months. I know. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. But I promise the wait was worth it (hopefully). Also this is the Imani face claim I chose because I think I’m gonna make her a more prominent character. Anyway, I hope you guys like it like I do, and I promise you’ll continue to slowly see things trickle out from this blog. Love you all!!! ❤️

Man with the Metal Arm TAGS LIST: @storibambino@cutiepiemimi13@this-chan@elaindeereads@letsshamelessqueen-m@lokislilcaribbeanprincess @shakzer00

UNIVERSAL TAGS LIST: @beautifulwisdom2001@iamzion-therealhabesha@thottio@jetaimeamore@mixedfandxms@here-for-your-bullshit

Requests are Open, if you want to be added to the tags list for this series or wrting with Bucky in general, just ask.

Masterlist

_____

    You first quickly make your way to Sam, immediately checking his vitals. “Steve, I need you to keep James awake.” As Steve goes to do his assignment, you find a low, even heartbeat and slow, steady breathing from Sam, as if he was asleep. Next you remove the tape from the towels to lift them up one at a time, visually inspecting both wounds. The one on his side was a deep graze. It doesn’t look like it hit his ribs, glad that is one less bullet you have to worry about. Next you examine his leg, less enthused about this wound. It was in the outside region of his upper leg, so the femoral artery wasn’t a concern, but there was no exit wound.

    "Hey, Buck. Y/N needs you to stay awake, okay bud.“ Steve starts to to shake Bucky gently. You turn to look at him as you go to reach for the first aid kit. The look on his side profile was filled with worry and as much as you could sympathize with, you had a task to attend to.

    "Steve, I know you don’t want to hurt him, but you have to wake him up. Try a bit harder for me, and if that doesn’t work, your gonna need to do a sternum rub, okay?” Your stare on Steve was intense as you waited for affirmation. He was shocked at your commanding tone but quickly nods and goes back to waking Bucky. You place your focus back onto Sam as you pull on your gloves, removing the towel from his side first and the small piece of gauze that covered the gash. You grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the table and pour it on a fresh, folded piece of gauze. “I’m so sorry, Sam.” You mumble, quickly bringing the gauze to the wound. The intensity of the burning was enough to wake Sam and cause him to swiftly kick you away. You groan at the impact as Sam beings to apologize profusely.

    "I’m so sorry. *Wince* I didn’t know it was you*wince* Fuck everything hurts.“ You calm him down and hand him a pillow for the couch, then begun to slowly bring the gauze back in.

    "It’s fine. But you’re gonna want to bite this hard because I’ve got to clean that wound.” You allow him to ready himself, watching as he places the corner of the pillow in his mouth, then being to count down without getting to zero. Right as you placed the gauze there’s a knock at the door. “It’s open, Mani.” You call, trying to keep Sam from squirming too much. She enters and looks around at the grim site before her.

    "Well, I-uh-wow-“ You continue to wipe around the wound with the gauze a bit more before starting to secure a fresh piece of gauze to it, sneaking glances back at your stupified friend.

    "I know, I’ll explain later. Right now I need you to channel your previous life as an ER nurse and help Steve with Bucky.” You turn back to Sam, scanning his face for signs of fainting, which is expected with the pain he was most likely feeling. “Steve, Imani. Imani, Steve.” You nudge your head toward your friend as you start on cleaning Sam’s leg wound.

    "Hi.“ Is all Steve could muster to the woman next to him now. Her wide, deep brown eyes quickly scanned Steve’s face, lingering on his own ocean blue eyes before finally speaking. “I’ll get you cleaned up in a moment but first lets help James. And, uh, nice to meet you… finally.” She lifts the towel that now stuck to Bucky by the crusted over blood. It was a deep gash, no sign of a bullet entrance. “Steve, can you hand me gloves,  a piece of gauze, and the alcohol, please?” Steve nods and hastily does what the woman asks. He watches as Imani expertly pulls on her gloves, the pulls surrounding fabric from around his wound. “Steve, he may be asleep now, but when I put this on him, you are possibly the only person that can keep him restrained. And just, be prepared. He’s gonna be in a lot of pain.” She proceeds to pour a heavy dose of alcohol on to the gauze and presses it to the wound, earning increasingly jerking flinches from Bucky. She then begins to gently wipe the wound, the burn to the exposed muscle, fully waking him up and causing Steve to put his whole weight into him.

    “Come on buddy, I know it burns, but Miss Imani here needs to clean you up. Now stay…still…” Steve groans pushing Buck’s shoulders into the chair.

    “Hey, we need to get them somewhere that can remove these bullets.” You say focusing on your task at hand. Sam winces as you begin to secure a clean piece of gauze to his second wound. “Not the hospital though.” Steve watches as Imani animatedly flips her head back around, finishing wiping around Bucky’s wound before getting a fresh gauze. 

    “Well, we could try to get them to the compound quickly. I know Bruce is there for the next couple of weeks. He can help. I can drive.” Steve relaxes his grip on Bucky when he realized that his whinces have become less dramatic, possibly due to the pain being so sever at first that it numbed at this point.

    “Compound? The one upstate that you told me about?” Imani turns to ask you, securing down one side of medical tape before pulling out another one. She watches you nod then turns back to secure the second piece of tape. “If that’s the case we’re taking my car.” She looked over at Steve and his shocked, confused expression. “It’s a Mustang. You can still drive, but if the broken down Beetle is your’s, it would take forever for us to get there.” A small grin grows on Steve’s face as he lets out a small chuckle before helping you stand Sam up to take him and Bucky to Imani’s car.

_____

    Imani was right about her car being quicker, because with Steve driving rather than it taking 2 and a half hours, Steve somehow shaved an hour off the time, though the ride seemed a bit longer due to Buck and Sam’s bickering on who was hurting most and who did what before they both passed out. So there you sat next to Bucky, looking at the picture Peter sent you of him and Louise, Louise in one of his shirts as a form of pajama, as a form of check up, every once in a while, looking up to watch Imani fix Steve up, unknowing of the awe-filled– and possibly lust filled– gaze he laid upon her. You just grinned and looked back down at your phone, backing out of the photo and scrolling through the texts between you and Peter. You knew he was part of the team, so you felt like it wouldn’t hurt to let him know what’s going on. As you started reading you felt a shift underneath your hand that grasped Bucky’s, prompting you to look his way.

    “Hey. How are you feeling?” You gently place a hand on his face and glance up and down his body, examining him.

    “Simultaneously high and in pain.” He groans out a chuckle and attempts to sit up, Stopped by his now suttured and covered wound.

    “Yeah, probably shouldn’t sit up to quick. Bruce, uh, had to remove a bullet fragments from your wound and then sew you up. Luckily, they was very superficial so it didn’t take much effort at all.” Bucky nods at your words and keeps a loving gaze on you, and as relieved as you were for him to finally be awake, you couldn’t helped but feel irked about the whole situation. “James, what happened?”

    “Would you accept mission gone wrong?” He charms, but your contemplating frown still stuck to your face, this skepticism stemming from when Steve told you the same thing. “Okay, we may have mistepped a bit but we’re okay.”

    “James, Sam is in surgery. Sure, they’re both luckily minor injuries considering the bullet that was in his thigh may have missed his femoral artery, but it was still dangerous nonetheless.” You still held on to Bucky’s hand, your thumb nervously rubbing his fingers. “Was this a S.H.I.EL.D. thing or…?” You now looked between Steve and Bucky, who’s eyes began to grow wide, giving you indication of the answer. “You guys got into this trouble all on your own, huh?”

    “Umm, I think Steve said he wanted to give me a tour of the compound. Right, Steve?” Imani grabs Steve’s hand and motions her head to the door, then leans in to whisper in his ear. “You do not want her anger towards James to jump onto you. Get out while you still can.”

    “But it was-” Imani yanks Steve’s arm and drags him out before he could further incriminate himself. “The mission was my idea.” He looks down at Mani, eyes as pitiful as a guilty child. “I need to apologize.”

    “You can do so later, when she calms down.” She places a hand on Steve’s elbow that was closest to the door. “I think right now she’s more scared than mad. Give her time. Show me around. And, uh, maybe we could get a drink?” She suggests, remembering the large wall of liquor behind a bar in the main room. She gets a hint of a grin and a nod from Steve before he finally leads her away from the room.

    Back in the room, your face seemed to be in a long term scowl as Bucky tries to explain the situation. “Listen, it was something that S.H.I.E.L.D couldn’t have known or else it would’ve gotten more people hurt than necessary. I honestly can’t tell you anymore than that. It could put you in danger.” You remove your hand from his, swiftly avoiding Bucky’s attempt to retrieve your hand again and stand from your seat to begin pacing.

    “So how often do you oh so willingly run toward the danger without being provoked?” You stop and look at Bucky, who now seemed equally as angry as you. “Don’t look at me like that.”

    “Do you know what my job entails? I’m not a rodeo clown. I work to keep the world safe. To keep you and Louise safe.” Bucky’s volume increased with his words.

    “Don’t you think I know that! That’s one of the reasons why I love you, damnit. But it seems that the danger seems to follow you. And what if it follows you when you have Lou,… and I’m not there?” You sigh and walk back to the chair, plopping down. “Bucky, I’m not mad, not completely mad at least, I’m scared. If something happened to you, or something happened while you were watching Lou and I couldn’t get there in time, I-I would die. I wouldn’t know what to do.” Your voice cracks and a tear falls from your eye, which Bucky quickly turns to wipe away, wincing when he realizes he’s still in the hospital bed for a reason.

    “I understand, and I promise to be more careful and think before following Steve into the fire again. I guess it’s just weird to know that I have a girl with a daughter who both expect me to be alive enough to come home. But if anything were to happen and you weren’t there, they would have to kill me to lay a finger on Louise, okay? And I’m hard to kill.” You nod and laugh through your now ceasing sobs. 

    “Okay” He takes your hand and gently presses it to his lips, knowing that it would be more painful if he were to try to kiss you at the moment. You catch on and lean over to give him a long, sweet peck on the lips, at this point relieved that he was still here with you. When you pull back your brain rewinds Bucky’s words. Follow Steve, huh? You stand from your chair again. “I’ll be right back.” You exit the infirmary like room and quickly head to the main room where you, unsurprisingly, found Steve and Imani flirting at the bar in the back of the room. “You.” You point to Steve and then point in front of you, to which he followed the silent instructions to come stand in front of you.

    “So, uh, Buck told you.” He nervously rubs the back of the neck, gaze directed downward into your eyes. 

    “Kinda. But I wanted to hear it from you.” Your eyebrows were raised as you crossed your arms.

    “I-uh-was the one who proposed the mission.” He flinched when you motioned to hit his arm but continued when you pulled back. “It was-or at least seemed like- a small threat that, if it grew, would be big trouble for S.H.I.E.L.D in the future if it wasn’t taken care of right now. I didn’t know it would be such trouble.” This was the moment you took to thud him in the abdomen, seemingly hard enough to get a reaction that was most likely due to some bruised ribs. 

    “That’s fine. But can we please try to be more careful next time. I was supposed to be off tonight and tomorrow but it looks like I’ll be taking care of some people.” You turn on your heel and head back to the room Bucky was laid up in, hearing indistinct conversation going on between Steve and Mani as you walked away.

_____

    “Don’t think I don’t remember the PAIN you put me through when I woke up.” Sam bitches from his wheelchair that was parked next to the large couch in the main room. You sat at the end closest to Sam with Bucky’s head in your lap, stroking his free roaming hair, scratching his scalp every once in a while.

    “Me putting you through that pain is what kept you alive without having an infection. So you should be thanking me.” You flip your head to look at Sam, smug grin on your face. 

    “I appreciate it, doesn’t mean I enjoyed it.” Sam mumbles, earning a smack on his arm from you.

    Over at the bar was Imani, Steve and Bruce. Steve, who was behind the bar was having an obviously engaging conversation with Imani, who was sitting at the bar listening, highly interested. Bruce sat next to Imani, but had his attention on your conversation with Sam. 

    “She’s right. If it wasn’t for her and Ms. Jefferson, your’s and Barnes’ injuries would be worse. Especially if you were to stick with your original plan of waiting it out through the night, one of you idiots would be dead so…” He takes a sip of the water that sat in front of him and looks over his glasses at Sam.

    “Man, shut up.” Was all Sam could retaliate, making those that were listening laugh.

    “Thank you again for coming to help. And letting me drive that car of your’s.” Steve was leaning on his crossed arms that were on the bar. 

    “Well, I’m glad Y/N called me to come help, or else I wouldn’t have finally met you.” She takes a sip of the Screwdriver Steve made her, the second of the drinks he has made for the beautiful woman he was so lucky to have met today-or yesterday since it was now 4:00 in the morning. “Y/N has told me a bit about you.”

    “Like what?” His heart rate increases slightly at not knowing what Imani was about to say.

    “Well, that you’re great with Lou. She said that you weren’t to bad looking, which frankly I agree.” Her voice trailed with those last words which made Steve laugh a heavenly chuckle. “And that you seemed extremely trustworthy.” His chest puffed with that last comment which emboldened him to finally make his move.

     “She should’ve added in there that I would very much like to take her very beautiful, very charming best friend on a date sometime soon. Tomorrow at 7, maybe?” He moves Imani’s now empty glass from in front of her and places a glass of water.

    “Smooth, but this glass of water should really be for you, since you seem so thirsty.” She takes a sip, turning her eyes toward the couch where you and Sam seemed to frantically turn back around as if you guys weren’t listening in to the conversation. “It’s your lucky day. I don’t have a shift tomorrow.” She take out her phone from her pocket, taps a few times on it then hands it to Steve. ”Put your number in.” He does as she tells him and then hands it back to her. She then sends a quick text with her name and address. 

    “I did not expect this to go so well.” Steve says a bit under his breath as he looks at the text that came through to his phone.

    “This is not fair.” Sam sighs, then turns his attention back to you. “Can you please hook me up one of your friends? Please? I promise I’ll be good.”

    You laugh at his pleas, then sit and think about it. After a few seconds Imani chimes in. “What about Sherry? That Cardio intern?” You gleefully clap at the suggestion then turn back to Sam.

    “Yes, Sherry! She adorable, maybe a year younger than Mani and I. Short brownskin with a lot of hair. She graduated top of her class at UPenn. She’s only a little shy. Ugh, you’ll love her.”

    “Fine, thank you. Now I don’t feel so left out now.” Sam fidgets with the wheels of his chair, seeming to be trying to get used to it.

    “Good, no one wants that.” You chuckle, scratching Bucky’s scalp again, happy knowing that everything is okay now.

Part 13

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

marvelouslytrekking:

Being forced to marry someone was not something you wanted, but when it turns out that it is to your best friend, who you secretly loved, things weren’t so bad. Unfortunately, good things don’t seem to last and when the worst happens, you refuse to sit around and be miserable. Will you find true love again, or will your life be turned upside down?

Complete

Ch 1: The Arrangement
Ch 2: The Escape 
Ch 3: The Attack
Ch 4: The Second Attack
Ch 5: The Meeting 
Ch 6: The Lessons 
Ch 7: The Pub 
Ch 8: The Poster 
Ch 9: The Attempted Kidnapping 
Ch 10: The Capture
Ch 11: The Rescue 
Ch 12: The Wedding

Prompt: The reader has been busy and stressed and decides to blow off steam an extra hour after the week comes to a close. Reader over does it but doesn’t take care of herself, leaving Bucky worried.

One shot

Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: Indication of body issues and eating problems

              I open the fridge looking for anything that seems appealing. The cloud of fog thickens in my head and my eyelids are heavy. I’m starting to realize my extra time at the gym this morning may have been a mistake. The second mistake is living with a bunch of guys who never have food in the refrigerator.

              I grab the contents to make a sandwich and make my way over to the counter. Scratch that, I’m making myself two. I’m not sure what I am putting on the sandwich, as long as it ends up in my stomach who cares.

“Hey doll,” Bucky walks over and kisses my temple from behind.

              We’ve been dating for a few months but Steve introduced us years ago. He has been very slow to warm up, but hopefully he knows I’m not going anywhere. When we first met it was almost comical. He barely said a word and hardly looked into my direction. He later admitted that he was afraid of scaring me or hurting me somehow. So he kept his distance, up until we all came back from the blip and Steve left us.

“Sweetheart, you look a little pale.” He comes to the other side of the counter and gets a better look at my face. “Are you feeling okay?”

              I feel my energy depleting by the second, but I respond with a nod. If I look this worn out, I couldn’t image how I would sound. I just need to get some food in me and I hope that is enough. Maybe a nap, a nap sounds amazing right now too.

              Bucky’s gaze lingers on me for a moment more before leaving my peripheral vision. I hear cabinets open and Bucky wrestling around with crinkling bags. Next, he moves onto the refrigerator. He grabs some of the things I am no longer using and returns them to their spot, and I hear him grab something else as well.

              Bucky appears besides me once more and arranges a plate of food. He places a little pile of grapes, along with a thick slice of watermelon. Two hands grab at the sandwiches before me and places them on the plate of fruit.

              Before I can even look up at him in protest, Bucky lightly takes his hand in mine and leads me to the couch in the next room. His head nods for me to sit down and I oblige. Bucky places the plate of food on my lap and takes a seat next to me. I knit my eyebrows in confusion but his face gives nothing away. His beautiful eyes flicker to my food and back to my face.

“Okay fine.” I say with a smirk before popping a grape in my mouth. He seems pleased as his posture becomes more relaxed. His fingers twirl some hair hanging from my ponytail and I can feel him silently urging me to eat some more.

“Buck I’m okay.” I plead, but truth is I’m too tired to really convince him.

              A few months ago, I had more time to workout and I did. I spent as much time as I did today in the gym 5 days a week. Most of the day following I was pretty tired. I remember going through two or three cups of coffee a day to make it to bedtime. And suddenly it clicks.

“You don’t look okay,” Bucky whispers.

              His eyes flicker to mine and I see some of the worry he keeps hidden. I take a bite out of a sandwich. The surge of energy waves through my body almost instantly. I know it isn’t taking effect yet, but if I feel this great already then it is a start. I figured out recently I wasn’t eating enough back then. I felt like I was sleepwalking through the day. I never told anyone because I didn’t want them to worry, I scaled back on my workouts, and made sure I was eating enough for what I was doing. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who noticed I wasn’t eating enough.

              I finish eating my plate a lot faster than I anticipated. The dried sweat clings to my skin and clothes to my back. Quickly I excuse myself and run to a shower.

              The warmth of the water feels good against my skin. In true girl fashion I grab my shampoo bottle and begin singing along with the tune playing off my phone. The shower is my stage and the sound of the water mimic my cheering fans in the audience. Sam has complained a lot about me using all the hot water. I told him that the show must go on.

              Only this time the show may need to be cut short. The music seems to be coming from a distance and my eyes are beginning to feel really heavy. I lean my body against the cold shower wall and find a little comfort in it. The peace only lasts a moment as my body heat replaces it.

              On instinct I get out of the shower and grab a towel. I take a seat on the floor and place my head in between my knees the best I can. Taking deep breaths, I find the world come back into view, enough to get myself from the floor and into my bedroom.

              I grab the closest things resembling clothes that I can find as the world begins to shift again. Struggling to put them on, I stay on the ground as I decide it is good enough. Closing my eyes, I tell myself I will only stay here for a few minutes and then I’ll go get coffee.

              I allow my body to lay a few minutes more after I start to feel better. Letting it soak up as much strength as it can to get me into the kitchen, and hopefully without running into anyone in particular. Except I am not that lucky.

              Bucky rounds the corner of my door frame and I nearly knock into him. It takes more strength than I’d like to spare to catch myself and stay balanced. Thankfully there is no spinning, just overwhelming exhaustion. But the next thing I know, my feet are no longer on the ground and two arms cradle me into a toned chest. They set me on my bed and find a nearby blanket to wrap around me.

              He doesn’t say anything before he leaves. Bucky doesn’t say a thing and leaves me alone in my bedroom with the door open. If it wasn’t for being so tired, and my bed being comfy, I would have followed him. I would have tried to convince him that I was okay and ask he joined me for another morning snack.

              Guilt begins to make its home in the pit of my stomach. Bucky cares so much about me and I can barely take care of myself. It’s selfish, I shouldn’t be worrying him. It is not like I am trying to do this. It was a mistake; one I’ve made before but hasn’t taken this much of a toll on me before. The best way I could describe it is feeling like a stale cookie that has not slept in a week. Well, I guess if cookies slept that would make more sense.

              I hear his footsteps down the hall from my door. Maybe he’ll yell at me. That would be better than the silent treatment. At least I would know exactly how he is feeling instead of having to guess.

              Bucky enters the room with a tray of food and an unreadable expression upon his features. Great, this will be fun. He carefully places the tray next to me and takes a seat near my feet. I sit up a bit and see that the tray is filled with all of my favorites. Not really caring which one I want first, I grab a random item and start to devour it.

“The last time you looked this pale was months ago.” Bucky breaks me out of my thoughts. I can see him trying to decide if he wants to continue. “I’m worried about you. You started acting like you again once you stopped working out so much. Your eating never changed but you had more energy.”

“Bucky I am eating, see.” I take another bite of the sandwich. Please, I just need him to see that I am okay.

“It isn’t enough.” Bucky sighs and soothingly rubs my feet through the blanket. “If you keep doing this, you’ll have to eat all the time until maybe the afternoon, maybe. I know you and you won’t do that. It will slow you down.”

              We sit in silence as I continue to eat. Bucky moves his hands to my calves next and I can feel more of my muscles loosen. His eyes seem far away in thought, not like earlier when he watched me eat. I wonder what he is thinking. I understand that not eating enough is dangerous, but I can’t help but feel like I am eating too much when I do. It has been a constant struggle since I was a teenager, and for the most part I felt like I was doing an okay job up until recently.

              I try to imagine what it would be like if the roles were reversed. If I was the one having to beg him to eat enough, or to stop working out quite as much. I paint the picture of us sitting on his bed while I massaged out his muscles while I make him eat a plethora of foods. Seeing him on the ground because he is too exhausted to even crawl to his bed or for help.

“I’m sorry,” my voice comes out course and small. I can sense tears not too far behind.

“I know, doll.” Bucky gives me a little smile and his dazzling eyes find my own.

              I finish all the food on the tray and set it to the floor beside the bed. Bucky comes up beside me and helps us both slip in under the covers. I cuddle into his chest and his warm arms engulf me to him. Forever safe in his embrace and it reminds me of things I already knew but needed to be reminded of. Bucky is the best man I could ever ask for… and I need to try to do better, not just for him but for myself too.

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​