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Ama’s Master List
Playlists
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Series // One - Two
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Drabbles//One Shots // Series One - Two
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Drabbles//One Shots // Series One - Two - Three
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Drabbles//One Shots // Series
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Drabbles//One Shots // Series
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Drabbles//One Shots // Series
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Eggsy Unwin;;
Drabbles//One Shots // Series
Cross Over Series//
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Halloween//
Sam Wilson//
Characterless//
The Avengers Team//
Let Me Break Your Heart//
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Howlin’ For You Series - Masterlist
AU - Biker!Bucky x Fem/Reader
When Y/N gets an unreal deal on her first home, she wonders why her neighbor scared away all the other buyers. Despite being cautious, she wonders why the town has given Bucky Barnes a bad name.
Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven // Part Eight // Part Nine // Part Ten // Epilogue
This series is finished.
Winifred - One Shot
Remedy - One Shot
Protective Dad Drabble
Surprise - One Shot
Bad Guy - One Shot
Howling for You Asks & Headcanons
— Or search “howlin’ for you questions” “howlin’ for you headcanons” “howlin’ for you asks” or “howlin’ for you universe”
Biker Bucky Playlist
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Bucky vs. Book
^Bucky on his way to you fr^
Summary: Bucky rushes to your aid when he finds out you’re upset. He’s never seen you this distraught before.
Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader
Words: 600 (I don’t think I have ever written something this short before wth)
Warning: It’s kinda angst?? But mostly fluff.
A/N: Sorry I haven’t been on much lately, school is keeping me busy. I wrote this pretty quickly and it’s just a short little treat while I’m in the middle of writing a mini series. Idk when I’ll finish writing it, but it prob won’t be done this month. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Divider credit: @cafekitsune
“Bucky?” Sam asked.
“M’ busy.” Bucky mumbled, curling a barbell like it was a dumbbell.
“Someone just informed me they heard crying coming from your girl’s room.”
“What?” Bucky dropped the barbell on the ground with a loud thud.
“Move, out of the way!” Bucky yelled, nearly knocking Sam over as he started sprinting to the gym exit.
Bucky ran so fast that he was bumping into walls and hitting corners, trying to locate the nearest stairs.
He took the stairs by three, his heart hammering against his chest, his ears on high alert in case he could hear you calling for him.
Finally, he made it to your room, and swung the door open without a second thought, just needing to know if you were okay. Bucky’s wide eyes spotted you instantly, curled into yourself on the rug, tissues littering the floor, sobbing. He had never seen you so upset.
He wasted no time sliding onto his knees and to you.
“Doll? Doll, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?” He tried to lift your chin to see your beautiful face, but you barely acknowledged him, your puffy eyes cast down.
“My h-heart,” you choked, clutching your chest.
“Are you having a heart attack?” He couldn’t stop himself from sliding his hands all over you, checking for injuries.
“I feel– s-so sad,” was all you could make out between sobs.
“Baby, who hurt you?” He was panicking, he needed to know what happened, why you were so distraught so he could fix it.
“Stupid book!” You cried, and flung yourself at him, holding him close, and tucking your head into his chest. Bucky immediately reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, squeezing you tight, one hand brushing your hair.
That’s when he noticed the outline of a book under a couple tissues.
“It’s not fair,” you cried, body shaking with each breath.
“I know, I know,” he soothed. He, of course, did not know, but he was enormously relieved to see the perpetrator was only a book.
“They were supposed to end up together! They were p-p-per–” You squeezed him tighter, struggling to get the words out. “Perfect together! Why did the author ruin it? It’s not fair, it’s not fair, they deserve to be happy!”
“Shhh,” he whispered, starting to rock you back and forth.
“It’s not fair,” you whispered through another cry, and collapsed fully into him.
“It’s not,” Bucky echoed.
Eventually your cries quieted and slowed, and Bucky kissed your forehead and let go of you. You barely had time to question what he was doing when he picked up the book from behind you and started to pretend to punch it.
“Bad book,” he chastised, “you made my baby cry. Nobody makes my baby cry,”
You couldn’t help but giggle, and wipe the remaining tears from your eyes.
Bucky continued to scold it, and even positioned himself to body slam it.
“Bucky,” you full on laughed, “stop,”
“Not until it apologizes,” he grumbled, faking a chokehold on it. “Oh, shit–” Bucky rolled onto his back and held the book above him, acting out a struggle. “It’s got me baby, help!”
Giving in to his shenanigans, you leaned over and grabbed the book from his hands, and gave it your own weak punch.
“Fuck you, book,” You sniffed and laughed.
“It can’t hurt you anymore,” Bucky said, patting your back.
“Thank you, Bucky,”
“I’ve got you, doll.”
“Why are there dents in all the walls?” Tony’s raised voice could be heard all the way from the floor below.
You looked at Bucky.
“What?” He smiled cheekily. “You needed me.”
Thank you for reading!
My Masterlist if you'd like to check my other stuff out :)
Oh oh and this is inspired by my reaction to Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. I hate that book so much. I love that book so much.
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Imagine Bucky being absolutely offended, OFFENDED when he’s called out for being dramatic. Not even in a bad way. Just. He thinks he’s so lowkey and quiet and stealthy, not realizing he’s such a little drama queen sometimes. He has his arms crossed over his chest while Sam and Steve exchange examples they can think of, his annoyance only growing more after each one.
“He tore the arm off his jacket before throwing himself off a plane, who does that?”
“I have it all on camera-
“I told you I’d break it” Bucky growled but it just made you giggle, imaging your grumpy boyfriend walking around with just a single sleeve of his leather jacket.
“Remember the time you broke Zemo out of prison and I asked you how a prison fight would randomly ensue and you said “Who knows” with crazy eyes?”
“Okay but-
“And then you said you didn’t do anything, only to have Zemo walk in 3 second later?”
“I had good reason-”
“I mean you did dramatically yell “Stop the car” only to walk off like a grumpy old man”
“M’not grumpy”
“I remember this one time, I was beating up this guy in the back of an alley way and he came in with his new army uniform and-
“You were getting your ass handed to you, Steve” Bucky said with an exasperated huff, recalling the event much differently, back when Steve was about the same weight as Bucky’s left thigh.
“Remember when he pouted because Tony wouldn’t let him travel through time and kill baby Zola”
“I wasn’t pouting”
“Look, he’s pouting right now!”
You couldn’t contain your laugh anymore, looking at your poor helpless boyfriend with his bottom lip jutting out, looking like a poor admonished child.
“No, m’not” He mumbled, letting you coo and wrap your arms around him, his face now buried in your neck, hiding away from his mean friends who were now nearly on the floor.
“Awww, the big scary white wolf needs cuddles- oh” Sam’s smile dropped when Bucky’s head pulled away from his hiding spot, glaring at him. Steve let out a nervous laugh watching his best friend gently lift you off his lap and plopping you off to the side before getting up and stretching.
“You idiots have 10 seconds”
“He can’t be serious”
“9″
“C’mon Buck-
“8″
“He won’t-
“1″
…
“Run”
“OH SHIT”
“USE YOUR WINGS DAMN IT”
“DO YOU THINK I KEEP THEM UP MY ASS FOR SAFE KEEPING, I DON’T HAVE THEM ON ME, YOU’RE THE SUPER SOLIDER, CARRY ME”
*Sam nearly gets clocked in the head*
“Did he just throw his metal arm at me!?”
“Yes. Yes he did”
“So dramatic”
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“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
― Jamie Anderson
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Bambi
Live From New York Ch1
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x OFC
Summary: He thought he was doing the right thing by leaving her. He thought he was keeping her safe.
Anslei Black was- no scratch that, she is the love of his life and her just let her go.
It has been five years and James "Bucky" Barnes is trying to leave her in the past. That is until his men come and give him some news. Anslei Black is back in New York, and she is not alone. They show him the surveillance pictures and what is staring back at him has shattered his cold heart.
Anslei isn't alone. She is with a little boy. A little boy with his steel blue eyes, a mischief smile and a Gun N Rose's T-shirt. He has a son, and he will burn New York down before he lets anything happen to them.
Warnings: mentions of guns, mentions of kidnapping and torture, swearing, protective Bucky (that’s a warning trust me 😭), mentions of threats of violence. That’s all I can think of.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"Mommy I'm scared."
"Me too baby."
*************************************************************************************
His hair was black. Just like hers. His eyes were a steel blue just like the man he never knew. He couldn't believe it. He'd been staring at Steve and Tony for the past fifteen minutes and neither of them dared to move. Tony just dropped the biggest bomb, and they were all waiting for Bucky to explode and strew shrapnel.
He had a kid.
He had a kid. A little boy.
Bucky looked Tony dead in the eyes and the man flinched. "Tell me all that again, slowly." Tony looked at Steve as if to say, 'Save me'.
"Buck. Listen -" He was cut off by Bucky slamming his hand on the desk. "No! You fucking listen to yourself Steve! You've been lying to me about Anslei for years! Years. God! What if she had gotten hurt or worse?! I wouldn't have known because you two fucks lied!!"
Steve's lip twitched and he let out a scoff. "Listen to yourself Bucky!! You're the one that left her. No. Abandoned her!" Bucky flinched at that. He opened his mouth to remind Steve of his place, but Steve was on a roll. "She gave up everything for you. She lost everyone for you! Cause she loved your sorry ass, and you couldn't get over your guilt of the one fucking time she got hurt! Yes, she got hurt but she didn't die. No, you killed her the day you left her on that doorstep. Injured and alone." Steve's chest heaved with the anger he's held on to for years. Bucky blinked and looked down. Steve was right and he couldn't even be mad.
"You're right. I fucked up okay. I fuckedup and I'll never forgive myself. But this is about the past. I can't doanything about that. She has my kid and now we need to intervene. No one willever be able to touch her again. Or my kid." He straightened his back. He puton his mask of The Winter Soldier on, the most feared man in New York. "Tony, get all the information you can on Anslei and the kid. I want bank info, work, hell, I want to know when her last dentist appointment was. Everything. When you get her address, get Harley and Peter to sit on her house. Anywhere she or the kid goes, they go too."
Tony nodded at his order and left. Bucky then turned hishead to his best friend, brother, and right-hand man. "I outta knock your lights out for talkin' to me like that." Steve rolled his eyes. "You could try." Punk. Bucky took a deep breath and sat down. "I have a kid." Steve nodded and sat across from him. Steve reached over the desk and pulled the surveillance pictures towards himself. The ones that Natasha had taken two weeks ago. "Anslei still looks the same." He looked up at Bucky and Bucky nodded with a small smile.
"Still looks to good foryou. Doesn't even look like she had a baby." Steve ducked just in time to miss getting hit in the eye with a pen. "Watch it punk." Steve laughed and looked at the little boy in the picture. He was wearing jeans and a Guns N Roses t-shirt. He gave a small smile at that. The kid had Anslei's hair but Bucky's everything. He looked exactly like him. Like a carbon copy of Bucky.
In the photo, he was looking up at Anslei while she tried to clean a-scuff off his chin. The kid was smiling with mischief. He was defiantly Bucky's kid. “Poor kid got stuck with your ugly mug." Bucky smiled tightly and gestured for Steve to hand over the picture. He had a kid. With Anslei. Steve was right. He looked exactly like him. Even the dimples that only a few people have seen when he smiled. A genuine smile. "I fucked up Stevie. I fucked up leaving her. I thought maybe she'd be safer that way. Now. Now, I just wanther home. I want to meet my son. For the second fucking time in my life, I want something."
Steve eyes were glossy seeing his brother being so vulnerable. Steve cleared his throat and willed his tears away. "When was the first time?" He smiled already knowing the answer. "When I watched her clock you in the face."
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Icarus
Pairing: mob!Bucky x tattoo artist!reader
Summary: you come home from work, only to find a mob boss in your house looking for your roommate.
Warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of arms and drug trafficking, murder, kidnapping, torture, swearing, tattoos, gambling, think that’s it

A/n: I’m a simple girl. Mob!Bucky makes my brain go whurrrrrr. This is pure self service because I have this tattoo lol. Been along time guys what’s up?
————
“Late night?” The deep voice came from the dark.
“Holy-” fear spiked through your heart from the unfamiliar sound, your arms dropping the bags and your back crashing into the closed front door, “-who.. who are you?” You asked the unfamiliar voice. Turning slightly you see the long haired, leather covered man sat in the dining room. His left arm rested on the table, the prosthetic shining, the light from the street lamp outside shining through the window. His face was half shrouded in darkness, the other half showed his eyes, a little confused but also amused.
“You’re not Caleb.” He replied, sitting back in the chair, tilting his head to the side and moving something that looked suspiciously pistol shaped off of the table and into the inside pocket of his jacket, you reached up and flipped on the light.
“N-no no, I’m not. I’m his roommate.” You said, finally registering who you were talking to. The now fully visible metal arm was a pretty big giveaway, if nothing else. ‘There is a mob boss sat in my kitchen, what the fuck’.
“What do you want with Caleb? Does he owe you something?” The thought was out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Oh god no sorry forget I asked. Sorry... sir? I don’t-”
“I’m assuming from that reaction you know who I am,” He said, smirk on his face as he stood and moved closer, your back pressing flatter against the wall beside the door with every step he took.
“Of..of course I do, everyone in New York knows who you are..Sir” You replied.
“Hmm, I’m gonna take that as a compliment doll,”
“It is! Sorry! Congrats on all the… mafia shit.” Did I just say ‘mafia shit’ to a gangster.
The silence is awkward, his face blank and all you can think is ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die.’ His face twists into a …smile.. you think, y’know its hard to tell, fear has your vision all fuzzy.
He then starts to..laugh. He’s laughing? He’s actually laughing.
“Is this something you do before you kill people? You laugh, give them a false sense of security then shoot them?” You ramble quietly, confused at what’s happening.
He moved his left had to rest on his stomach, the metal catching the light, shining right in you eye and it fully registered that, holy shit, James fucking Barnes, The Winter goddamn Soldier is in my house. This man is literally wanted by every law enforcement agent in the country, he’s in control of one of the most ruthless organisations in the world, they traffic arms and drugs and gun down anyone that gets in the way. Apparently, at least that’s what the news said. The stories about him though, way more upsetting.
The rumor was that after he left the special forces, he was captured by an organisation that wanted him to work for them. When he tried to escape the first time, they took his arm, and he was stuck working for them for a decade. The story goes that after he finally escaped, he tracked down everyone that was a part of it and killed them all, by himself. Alone. Just him. On his own. Then he took over their supply and demand and built his empire from the ground up.
“Oh god.. ‘congrats on all the mafia shit’, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while…” he pushed out while chuckling. “I’m gonna get that shit tattooed, I swear,” he said.
“I could do that for you,” it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. ‘Oh my god, shut up Y/N’ you thought to yourself.
“What?” He asked, eyes flitting over to yours, his piercing stare causing all sorts of feeling to rise inside your chest; fear, confusion, attraction. Attraction? What? Damn him and his pretty face. He’s a killer Y/N, remember that?
“Nothing, sorry” you answered, looking down at your feet.
“No what did you say Y/n?” He asked again, his voice more stern than before. If you weren’t so scared, you would have questioned how he knew your name.
“I said that I could give you that tattoo, sorry, just slipped out” you replied, unsure what his response would be to your completely unnecessary comment.
“Stop apologising would’ya doll, there’s no need.” He said, sort of sweetly, a small comforting smile on his face, the pet name causing all sorts of lovely feelings inside.
“Sor.. yes Sir,” you corrected yourself.
“And stop calling me Sir darlin, only my employees call me that,” he said, “well my employees and some others..” he said with a dirty smirk, causing your eyebrows to raise sky high.
“Sorry Sir,” you said quickly, not even thinking. “…shit.”
“Seriously doll, you don’t need to be so scared of me,” he stated, his right hand reaching out and landing on your shoulder, your muscles tensing for a second then relaxing when you saw the look in his eye, he was telling the truth
“Ok.. then can I ask why you are here?” You ask, some fear creeping it’s way into your voice despite his reassurance. He kept his face carefully still and he looked you up and down, the feeling of being examined was strong, like he was trying to decide if you were worthy of knowing his business.
“You got it right earlier, your roommate owes me something, and I came to get it from him,” he removes his hand from your arm as he spoke after a tense silence. He was being purposely vague, trying to gage your reaction, to see if you were really clueless or you were playing with him.
“It’s money right, I mean it has to be, what else could he owe you. I told him to stop freaking borrowing money I swear I tried to stop him, but he never listened to me..l”
“You’re rambling darlin, you realise that?” He cuts you off with a smirk on his face.
“I’ve been told I do that when I’m nervous. I don’t know how much Caleb owes you and I don’t know what the situation is but.. if you.. I mean..”
“What doll? What are you trying to say. I won’t be mad, I swear,” Barnes responds, one side of his lips tugging upwards at your mumbling.
“Could you give him some more time?”
He was not expecting that. ‘Brave little thing’ he thought.
“I mean I don’t know how long he’s owed you for but he’s getting back on track I swear, he’s getting better, he is, in-fact he’s at a gamblers anonymous meeting right now, and he has a job interview tomorrow so he can pay rent and pay back people he owes money to.” You rush out, trying to help you friend, “Of course he never told me that he owes money to a mobster but that besides the point” you add quieter, more to yourself than anything but Barnes still heard it. He chuckled and ran his flesh hand through his hair, pushing back the long strands out of his face.
“He does owe money to a mobster, quite a lot in fact so I’m gonna have to say no to that request darlin, I’ve given him long enough.” He responds, his tone dripping with authority, the Brooklyn drawl on the pet name he threw out made your heart beat faster.
“Please. Please just think about it Sir.. uh Mr Barnes.. Sir. Caleb’s had a rough go of it lately, he lost his father not too long ago and he’s been a mess ever since, if you could just give..”
“I already said no once doll, I don’t like repeating myself.” His tone was final, and even though his words were not that intense, the threat in his voice hung in the air like poison gas before slamming into your chest, the fear that had previously been quelled came racing back, sitting on your shoulders like a lead coat.
The silence stayed for longer this time, you eyes firmly fixed to the floor to a sound even the possibility of upsetting the man that had broken into your home.
“So you’re a tattoo artist huh? He asked, his low voice calming you some. Huh he’s trying to make me less afraid of him, what kind of ruthless criminal is he?
“Yes..um I am,” you answer, incredibly aware of the position you were in, better to go along with whatever he did.
“You got a flash book?” He questioned, genuinely interested.
“Uh yeah I do.” You reply awkwardly, not sure where this new line of conversation was coming from.
“Can I see it?”
“…sure,” the word came out as a question.
He nodded at you, and you took it as a sign that you were good to move. Turning slowly and moving away from the wall to your bag on the floor, you reach down and grab your flash sketchbook and hand it to him.
“Are all of these available?” He asked, flipping through the pages, taking in each design.
Seeing him like this, calmly looking through the sketchbook makes it very easy to forget who he was, a ruthless calculating Mob Boss, wanted for almost every crime under the sun.
“The ones with the X’s over them have been done before but could be repeated if someone really wanted it,” you answered, slightly more confident in yourself as you were talking about something you loved.
“This is Latin, right, what does it mean?” He asked, moving to stand next to you pointing to a design in the book, an alien inside a bottle of wine.
“‘In Vino Veritas’, it means ‘In wine, there is truth’” you say, “ I though it was funny, y’know.. ‘the truth is out there’..aliens..” you trailed off, not sure how to explain that design
He let out an quiet amused sound, his shoulder brushing yours, sending a trail of chills down your spine.
“This one is beautiful,” he said, pointing to a different design on the next page.
“Thank you, it’s Icarus, I have it tattooed on me, it was hard as hell doing it on my own leg,” you say, proud of the design you created.
“Icarus, what’s his story? I can’t quite remember, ” he asks.
“It’s a Greek myth y’know, Icarus and his father were held captive by King Minos in a tower, his father created wax wings so they could fly away from their captors. The father warned Icarus from flying too high or too low, but he ignored his fathers warnings and flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. It’s a moral story to warn against the dangers of complacency and hubris, but to me it’s just a tragedy.” You say, turning to face him, making eye contact with the man. He listened intently to the story, his face unreadable but you thought you saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe he related to the myth, a man that was once held captive, now with everything in his hands, in danger of losing it all if he flew too close to the sun himself.
“A tragedy huh? I don’t think there’s anything tragic about it. He was warned not to do something dangerous and he went and did it anyway, it’s his own damn fault,” he stated, something slightly argumentative in his tone.
He looked straight at you while speaking and you couldn’t help but feel as if he was looking into your soul, like his statement was some kind of test.
“I agree with the idea that he got what he deserved, but I meant it as a tragedy for his father. Creating something so pure for you and your child to escape from captivity, only for your child to ignore your warnings and pay the ultimate price for it. His father probably spent the rest of his life regretting escaping his prison because that was the action that ultimately lead to his sons death. It’s heartbreaking if you see it from a different perspective,” you say back, not really expecting him to engage you in a philosophical debate.
“Hmm.. that’s an interesting way to see it, I’m not really one for looking at different perspectives, mine suits me just fine,” he answered, the fact that this man was dangerous came screaming back to you with the look on his face, blank like he was devout of all emotion at that moment. You got the feeling he wasn’t speaking metaphorically anymore.
The tension was palpable, you not knowing what to say next and him deciding he was done talking for the time being. He placed the book down on a side table, and turned back to you. “Y’know what, I want it.” He said, confusing flooding your brain.
“Want what?” You ask calmly, not wanting to push your luck with the man.
“That tattoo, the Icarus one, I want it.” He answers, leaning back against the side of the table he was sat at earlier. His crossed his arms, which should have been intimidating, but for some reason the only thought floating through your head was Damn his arms are bigger than my head. Gimmie.
“You want the Icarus?” You ask, somewhat stupidly and he had just said that.
“Yes I do,” he answered simply, “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, smile on his face.
“Umm not really, I have a few appointments tomo..”
“Move them, hell cancel them. Block out a spot long enough for me to get this tattoo.” He states, cutting of your sentence.
“I can’t do that, it’s too short notice and I could loose..”
“I’ll pay what ever you lose for cancelling the appointments. I’m getting this done, tomorrow.” He cuts you off again, a finality in his tone that warns you it would be pointless and probably rather stupid to argue.
“Uh..ok” you respond, shaking your head a little, still trying to figure out what just happened.
“Great.” He clapped his hands together and the sound made you jump. Barnes either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care. “Give me your phone.”
“Huh? Why do you want my phone?” You question.
Barnes just rolled his eyes, walked forward until he was stood right infront of you, toe to toe, staring down at you with a semi amused look on his face.
“How am I supposed to find out where your shop is if you don’t text me the location?” He said sarcastically.
Literally a million different ways, google it for starters, get one of your goons to find it, stalk me and follow me there.. c’mon man think. Obviously you kept these thoughts to yourself but Barnes smirked as if he could hear them anyway. Pulling out your phone and handing it to him you ask, “What time do you want to come in for?”
“Around 1-ish doll, that ok?” He asked, knowing that it is, as he’s already told you to move/cancel your other appointments.
“That’s fine by me Bar..Mr Barnes” you answer, slipping up, almost forgetting the level of respect you should probably show to the gangster in your home.
He calls his phone from yours, adding the new number to contacts in both phones, “there, now you can let me know the address of your shop.”
“I’ll sent it to you tomorrow.. unless you want me to send it now?” You asked he hands your phone back , uncertain of what he wanted
“Tomorrows fine” he answers, walking backwards towards the front door, “I’ll see ya in the afternoon doll,” he says while opening the door and mostly leaving until he pauses completely, slowly turning back towards you.
This is it, he’s been messing with me this whole time and now he’s going to shoot me.
“Tell Caleb he has 6 weeks to get my money back to me or I’ll be paying him another visit, ok doll.” He says, no question in his voice. He waits until you answer with a “Yes, Mr Barnes,” and disappears into the hallway outside your apartment.
It takes about 5 minutes for the shock to fully wear off, and it causes you to stagger over to the couch, fall backwards onto it an ask into the empty room, “What the actual fuck just happened?”
As soon as the question was out of your mouth , your phone buzzed in your hand.
James:
Don’t ever call me Mr Barnes again Y/n.
It makes me feel ancient.
I hate that.
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🥹🖤
Until Then
A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain make the whole complete plot of.
Summary: A mission back in time brought Y/N to an unexpected encounter with the man she fell in love with.
Words: 2.3k++
Pairing: 40s!bucky / avenger!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: melancholy-ish plot line with fluffy ending
Inspiration: "You still would've turn my head, even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944 and you were heading off to fight in the war" – Timeless (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift
It was supposed to be a quick in and out mission. Y/N and Tony were sent back in time to 1944; one day before Captain America and the Howling Commandos deployed to their next mission at the Austrian Alps, in Europe.
The duo were supposed to retrieve some lost files regarding Hydra's hidden bunks and labs back in the days. After the fight with Thanos, there were rumours of the re-creation of Project Winter Soldier lead by an organization that once associated with Hydra. So, they need all the information they could get their hands on; including the ones that are lost decades ago.
Unfortunately for them SHIELD used to be shitty at storing physical files back in the days. To be fair they still do, especially now that technology had advanced. Every single information were at the tip of their fingers; from typical criminal records to the name of every single doctor and nurses who were present when the person was born.
They literally have everything. And nothing at the same time.
And honestly, the mission was quick as they predicted. Tony managed to scanned the needed files and some others that he thought would be important. He's extra like that too, which was a plus.
However quick the mission supposed to be, they barely make it though, especially when the guards were suspicious of Tony's apparently "hippie" beard. It was such a shame. So much for dressing up in 40's style. They kind of nailed the outfit and aesthetics, according to Steve anyway.
However, thankfully by the time they got out of the facility they managed fit right in with crowd. The wave of people lead the duo along its current, more and more people joined in to the point that they weren't able to find any quiet place to activate their time device.
"I thought we're still in WWII? Why is there fucking a parade in the middle of the day?" Tony being unapologetically sarcastic as always.
Y/N looked around as she observed, there was couple of people animatedly, albeit, excitedly exclaimed to the streak of success of Captain America and the Howling Commandos in the war.
A little to the right of them, were a group of children who were semi-cosplaying as Captain America and his dream team, passionately play-fighting with the enemies as if they were in a theater performance.
"I guess they're celebrating small wins. Steve and his team did have several successful raids since the battle at Azzano." It was in fact true; what Y/N speculated was exactly the very reason of the current occasion.
Tony simply shrugged as he stretched his neck higher to hopefully find the end the crowd, "Sure, just keep your eyes open for a place to time jump. I don't want to be stuck in the middle of another war." Y/N nodded as she looked around the sides, wondering if there's an empty alleyway that they could use.
The more sketchy looking it was, the better.
The crowd was chaotic with different mix of conversations and cheers; voices intertwining with one another, each sentences criss and crosses into indecipherable storyline. But even then, Y/N could recognized that breathy, slightly giggly laughter anywhere.
Especially when he brushed right by her.
Y/N was well aware of how madly in love she was with Bucky even with the coy cat-and-mouse game they were playing for months. She knew exactly the hold he had on her soul that at some point, she was conviced that he still would've turn her head in any lifetime.
But that idea was only supposed to be one of the secrets in her mind; the thoughts of a hopeless romantic that she was. Certainly, she didn't dreamt of the vision for it come true. But there she was, frozen on her spot when the time stood still on the crowded street in 1944; fortuitously crossing path with man she fell in love with.
There weren't any suitable explanation for this other than it was fate. In that short milliseconds, Y/N saw the resemblance of the sight to a memory of hers in the crowded room a few short years ago; his left arm slung around Steve's neck, letting his weight leaned on his super soldier friend as he let out a hearty laughter.
There were only slight difference from what she saw before and what she currently seeing; Bucky wore an all black suit at that party, now he's wearing his military uniform in a parade. Bucky was dead drunk on Asguardian mead that night, now he's as sober as a soldier deprived of liquor. Bucky's left hand was adorned with high-tech vibranium metal, now that very hand was still made of flesh and blood, still alive.
During that brief moment of revelation, she truly believed that they were supposed to find this.
Whatever this is supposed to be; Fate? Love? Both? She was not sure either.
She was so stuck on holding her gaze on his back as the young soldier walked a few steps away from her that she didn't notice how the people in the surge glared at her unmoving state or how she had been astray from Tony.
Well, at least it only lasted until someone bumped into her and she staggered backwards, inevitably fell on the ground.
Y/N groaned but quickly patted her pockets to find her time device was still there. I mean, she can never be sure if it was just an accident that she fell or someone intended to distract her while pick-pocketing her belongings.
Though other people would probably already stood on their feet but Y/N was still on the dusty road, as she was busy recollecting her mental state rather than her physical.
That was when a calloused hand reached out to her, offering a kind help.
She didn't think twice to take his hand, let alone looking up at his face when she gripped the hand tight enough to make a solid foundation as she pushed herself against the gravity, "Oh dear me! Thank you so much, sir. I really..." She lost her momentum when she met the pale blue of his eyes, "...appreciate it." She ended the sentence breathlessly.
It's Bucky. Her brain tried to let her process the thought. It was not her Bucky but still... it's Bucky. Her eyes then fell to where their skin touched. Warm and gentle. His left hand felt the exact same as his right. It made her to cave in the urge to hold it a little longer, to savour the memory of what it could've been; not that she weren't fond of his vibranium arm but curiosity can be such a fickle thing.
Bucky smiled, "Glad to help, my lady." And oh dear does he smiled effortlessly, freely; as if he knew he deserved to feel joy in his life.
Even if she didn't want to, she had to let go of his hand after a few seconds too long of holding it when she was already up and ready to go. She returned his smile though her heart was barely tough enough to stop the spreading of its cracks, "Really, I can't thank you enough."
In reality, it was probably unnecessary to thank him that much for helping her to get back on her feet, but Y/N wasn't really thanking him just for that.
Unbeknownst to him, she was thanking him for not holding back a smile, for not overthinking about the things he might have done to draw a conclusion that he was undeserving have the luxury to smile, for unapologetically just living the life he supposed to have.
She thanked him for it.
Bucky chuckled amusingly as he slightly titled his head to the side. A charming pull on the corner of his lips revealed a smile that could swoon anyone on sight, especially her.
"Well, we're having a little party tonight before deploying to Europe tomorrow. So, maybe you can thank me by letting me bring you to the dance? How about that, doll?" She almost forgot that Steve was there next to him, until Bucky references the word "we".
And especially when his words might just pulled Y/N's heartstrings in ways that she could never thought someone could do. It was awfully slow, almost too delicate of a pull, but each inches of it pained her deeply.
If it was up to her, she would've said yes a million times over but she knew she can't. And the voice in her earpiece reminded her of it, "Y/N, we gotta go." Tony urged as he watched her from the corner of the street.
Y/N tried her best not let her facial expression flatter, "Unfortunately, I can't. I'm going back to my hometown today." It wasn't exactly a lie when she made that excuse.
"Ohh, I see. You're not from here, huh?" Bucky was very honest as his reaction clearly showed his disappointment. Though at her, just at the situation.
Her brows briefly crunch into an apologizing plead before she boldly grabbed by the collar of his uniform and slightly pulled him down to her level, while the other hand cupped one side of his face. She tiptoed herself upwards as she pressed a firm yet sweet kiss on the smooth skin of his cheek and whispered against it, "But, I hope this would do."
Lost for words, heck, Bucky was lost for thoughts. What was left was his own heart thumping hard and loud that he bet Steve can hear it from where he was standing, his cheeks became warmer by the second and the redness spreads even to the tip of his ears.
Of course he had his cheek kissed before, but not like this. None of them felt like this. They were always too fast, too hasty.
Hers was different. It lingered longer, gently leaving imprint on him. He can feel her grip on his collar, the stroke of her thumb of his other cheek and of course the soft pressure of her lips on the other side. He could everything, so particularly.
He was rendered speechless even after she pulled her lips away, too soon for his comfort. Eyes wide open, his lips slightly parted as he let himself lost in the pleasant surprise.
When he thought she would parted herself and ran away feeling embarrassed, but she did the very opposite. Y/N lead his forehead to lean on hers, tip of their nose grazed and touched, while her lips hovered above his. She whispered quietly, as if she was talking to herself, "You'll be fine, James. You'll find home in the future. I promise."
Her voice trembled as Bucky just noticed how wet her eyes were becoming. With that amount of tears in them, he wondered if her sight were all blurry now.
Y/N took in a shaky breath before continuing, "You just need to survive the winter and trust me at the end of that season, you'll reach the sun again." Her thumbs softly traces his cheeks as she spoke.
Bucky didn't quite understand what she was saying but if he loosely translate it, it would mean that 'she believed that he'll be back soon after the war'. But then again, he felt like there was a major thing that was missing from the context that he came up with.
Y/N's earpiece send another transmission of Tony's voice, "Okay, seriously. Come on, Juliette. Your other Romeo is waiting for you." She couldn't help but to smile as she closed her eyes, letting the excess tears fall down.
She didn't want to say goodbye, as she knew that this was not where their story ends, at least not his that's for sure. So, she simply smiled up at him before stepping back, then gracing a smile to the dumbfounded Steve as well before walking away.
It was just a few steps away when her hand was caught in between someone's, "Hey!" Y/N looked back to see Bucky, wide eye, blinking in disbelief and blushing red, all at the same time, "WiIl... Will I see you again?" He asked, though hesitant; wondering if he was being rude.
Compared to what she had done to him, he was just being too polite.
Y/N chuckled dearly, "Of course." Then she replied confidently, "I owe you a dance after all." Her lips parted into a cheeky grin.
Bucky let out a sharp relieved sigh as his lips mimic hers, "I'll look forward for it, doll." He slightly bowed as his hand pulled hers closer to his lips, "Until then." He placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand as his gaze remained on hers.
Apparently, it was Y/N's turn to blush to his antics. She stepped back shyly as her cheeks brightens before scurring away. Maybe, Bucky was right with his prediction prior. She did ran away feeling embarrassed after all.
She jogged towards the next corner of the street, meeting up with Tony. The older might have eyeing her in a teasing manner, but his smirk was the biggest giveaway. Y/N simply rolled her eyes, even if her lips maintained its shape from the aftermath of her encounter with Bucky.
As they entered deeper into the alleyway, Tony spoke, "But I admit, young terminator was a hottie. Not hotter than me, of course." he claimed.
Y/N frowned, letting out a scoff, "What do you mean "was"? He still is." Call it bias, but at least she was telling the truth.
Tony shrugged, "Meh. Would argue to differ. But, whatever that floats your boat, I guess?" Tony sassed as they clicked on the time device at the same time, revealing a swirlling portal, in front of them.
Y/N quirked her brow, her hands on her hips, "You're just jealous that he aged like a fine fucking wine and you don't." She purposely challenged his ego.
Tony dramatically rolled his eyes, "Please. He wishes." He walked into portal with an attitude, making Y/N laughed at his childish acts.
She looked back at the alleyway one last time and she reminisce the last moments of a past that she never belong in. As she walked into the portal, she thought that maybe, it's time to pay her debt to Bucky.
End.
A/N: The start of bucky drabbles because why not. This is considered a drabble for me because i feel like there's lack of story building. But, you tell me. And did you enjoy it?
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Me on tumblr search bar looking for fics:
hmm..who am I going to be in love with today?
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Prompt 2153
"How did you find me here?"
"You are comically easy to track."
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Jealous
Pairing: TFATWS!BuckyBarnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky had no idea you could get so jealous over him. He’s not complaining, though.
Warnings: nothing much, jealous!reader, mentions of reader being insecure about herself (no body descriptions except from a part where it says that reader has calloused/scarred hands), a tiny hint at reader and Bucky having sex (you have to squint)
A/N: PLS I have nothing against long pink nails that’s actually how my nails are right now
This is a +18 blog. Minors DNI.
I do not consent to have my work translated, copied or posted to any other site/app that are not my own tumblr/ao3 accounts.
You have absolutely no right to feel like this.
The almost unbearable pang in your chest grows sharper and sharper as you observe the vibrant red lipstick luring Bucky into a conversation that leaves you to wonder what could be so intriguing. Oh, I actually know what’s so intriguing, you think to yourself as your eyes dart over her too revealing outfit. Talking, talking, talking. You summon the word like a mantra, repeating it over and over again in your mind, desperately trying to convince yourself that everything is fine. They’re just talking, right? So what if her hand and her stupidly long pink nails are strategically resting on his chest? What does it matter if she’s wiggling her hips all the time to show off? Everybody does that, it means nothing!
“You okay there, kid?” Sam asks, concerned, using the old nickname even though he knows you’re a little too far from being a kid now. “You look like you want to murder someone”
You shift the gaze towards your friend, attempting a smile that could honestly be mistaken with a grimace. “Just tired.” Your reply is barely audible over the unnecessarily loud music pulsating through Sharon’s mansion. They’re just talking.
“I must say,” Zemo unfortunately started with his infuriatingly smug grin “I never took you for a jealous woman”
“Jealous?” Sam repeated the infamous word, a little confused.
“Shut up, Zemo.” You reply dryly, shooting the man a glare that would make Bucky proud, if only he was paying attention to you and not some random woman’s boobs.
“She’s jealous of the pretty lady who’s captivating her soldier’s attention.” Zemo annoyingly elucidates the situation to Sam.
You watch, tortured, as Sam’s confused expression morphs into one of understanding as he gives Zemo a knowing look. “Y/n, if you’re-”
“I am not jealous and he is not ‘my soldier’.” You snap, your words coming out a little louder than you intended. Feeling frustrated in front of the truth Zemo just shoved at your face, you storm off towards the bar and ask the bartender for a beer.
You’re trying to ignore it. You really are. But your eyes can’t seem to abandon the enchanting figure across the room. She’s tall, stunning, feminine. Her skin is probably soft, void of the calluses and scars that mark your own — you wonder if Bucky can feel the softness through his shirt where she’s touching. She walks around in a piece of cloth that leaves too little to the imagination as if she fucking owns the place. Her lipstick matches so perfectly with her skin tone that if you didn’t know better you'd think she invented the color red. Every single aspect of her mere existence seems particularly designed to piss you off - but that could just be because her taste in men is pretty similar to yours. And there stands Barnes, wearing that infuriatingly sweet smirk of his, clearly enjoying the attention.
He can flirt with pretty girls. You tell yourself, trying to see things through a logical lens. He's a single, independent, free man. He can do whatever the fuck he wants.
That much is true. To some extent.
See, he is single, and independent, and free. The only problem is, he had been flirting with you for the past two weeks — ever since Sam called you asking for help with the flagsmashers and Barnes forced his way into the situation. Or at least, you thought he was flirting. You could’ve read too much into his actions. But then again, if you were overanalyzing it, so were Sam and Zemo, because they just won’t stop teasing you about it.
Out of the two, Sam’s teases are the worst, of course. The damn asshole knows all too well that you had been pinning over Barnes since the day you helped save him years ago, back when everything was simpler. But then Wakanda happened, followed by Thanos, the blip, and the soul-wrecking taste of losing Bucky — and everyone else — for good. Then he came back, and now here you are, still hopelessly infatuated with the same dude.
Only now things are a little bit different. Because he had been gone, and in the time he was away, you had aged five years. He no longer addresses you as "kid," and you’re pretty sure you had caught him stealing glances at you when he believed no one was looking. Glances that resemble the way a man looks at a woman. Or so you desperately hoped thought. But all those fragile beliefs are now on the verge of shattering as you watch him giving the pretty lady a look that threatens to extinguish every ounce of hope you still hold onto.
"For someone who claims she's not jealous, you sure seem to be," Sam playfully mocks, breaking the silence as he sits in the barstool next to you.
You let out a heavy sigh. "Don't start."
"Are you going over there?" Sam asks nonchalantly.
"And say what? Hey, Barnes, I know we don't have anything and I have absolutely no right to be jealous, but could you please stop flirting with pretty women when I'm around? It really fucking stings?"
"It's a start," Sam shrugs.
You scoff, grabbing another beer from the bartender.
"If you're not willing to resolve it, at least stop glaring at the woman like you want to decapitate her," Zemo, much to your annoyance, joins the conversation.
"Since when do you care?" you retort, irritated with the audacity of this man.
"I don't. Just trying to be helpful," Zemo replies casually.
"Well, you're not," you roll your eyes.
"Although,” he adds after a moment of much appreciated silence, “if you're genuinely jealous, I suggest you don’t look now."
The smartass knows exactly how to get under your skin.
Shifting your gaze to where Bucky stands allowing himself to be drawn by cheap men-hooking techniques, your mouth suddenly dries. Planted far too close for your liking, the woman seductively whispers something right next to his ear as her hand caresses his bicep.
He’s not mine, you remind yourself, desperately trying to push the jealousy that threatens to consume you.
He doesn't owe me anything, you reason, the logical side of your brain trying to establish control.
I don’t have the right to feel like this. You shove your half done bottle into Sam’s chest, who holds it with an exasperated look directed at you.
I have absolutely no right to be jealous. You scold yourself as your legs start moving of their own accord, marching towards the pair.
You're nothing to him, you repeat in your mind, determination guiding your steps. When they finally notice your presence, it’s too late. You had already positioned yourself between them, fully facing Bucky.
"Excuse me, we were in the middle of a conversation," the pretty lady interjects, her tone doesn’t hold any particular hostility but her words irritate you nonetheless. How dare she flirt with your man?!
You turn your head towards her, lifting one eyebrow in a display of unimpressed indifference, before decisively returning your attention to Bucky. Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him closer and fervently press your lips against his.
Startled by your sudden attitude, he takes a few moments to fully register what the hell is going on, but as you refuse to back down, he slowly encircles his metal arm around your waist, raising his other hand to your cheek so he can hold your face and properly kiss the woman he’s been head over heels for since he came back to his senses when Steve saved him.
As Bucky deepens the kiss, taunting your parted lips with the tip of his tongue, the world around you fades into insignificance. The pent-up emotions, the frustration, the longing, and the overwhelming uncertainty, everything melts away in the intensity of the moment. Time stands still as you grant him full access to your mouth, both your stubborn natures fighting to dominate and control the kiss.
Realizing you need oxygen to survive, you release your grip on Bucky's collar, breaking the kiss but keeping your eyes locked with his. The unspoken words and long cultivated desires building up a tension one could cut with a knife.
The soldier's piercing gaze searches for yours, a mix of surprise, confusion, and something else flickering within the depths of his ocean blue eyes. Without actually thinking about what he’s doing, his grip tightens around your waist, pulling you closer. For a brief moment, you don’t dare say a word, the gravity of the situation sinking in, neither of you quite sure how to navigate the newfound territory you had just barged your way in.
But obviously, because Bucky is Bucky and you are you, that signature smirk of his slowly starts to show itself, and you somehow know what’s about to come.
“Well, darlin’, if that’s what you do when you get all riled up, I should probably find some more ladies to flirt with.” He teases, lightly squeezing your waist.
“Don’t push it, Barnes.” You fake scold, trying to hold back a smirk of your own.
He lowers his head until his lips are right next to you ear, so close that you can feel his warm breath as he speaks, “though if I got this attitude whenever you make me jealous, dollface, I have a feeling we’d be kissing a lot more”
A delicious shiver runs down your spine as you tease.”You keep the sweet talk, Sarge, and we’re gonna end up in Sharon’s spare bedroom.”
Well, you did end up in Sharon’s spare bedroom. And the bathroom. And the kitchen. And every single room in his apartment after you went back home. But that’s a story for another time.
Bonus:
Sam scowls as he watches the pretty lady storm away from you two, reaching his back pocket to get Zemo’s twenty dollars.
“I hope you know this is the last time I make a bet with you.” Sam mumbles, displeased, sipping the beer he knows very damn well you won’t be coming back to get.
Zemo shrugs nonchalantly, tucking away the money both of them know he doesn’t really need, but holds immense satisfaction as it represents his symbolic triumph over the bet. He smirks. "I must remind you, I did mention I could be quite persuasive."
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