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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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Outside the Lines 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsessive compulsive behaviour, kidnapping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has her routine and her fellow patient gets in the way of those.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, (lumberjack AU)

Note: I'm feeling it so why not.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Steve takes you downstairs. You marvel at the large kitchen, finished with dark walnut and brass. Bucky sits, dragging his fingertips over the island, leaning as he stares grimly at the wall. His eyes drift to you slowly and you flinch, cowering and shifting to hide partly behind Steve.

“She calm down?” He asks brusquely as he taps his metal fingers on the wood.

“Buck, she just needed to settle in, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Steve reaches back blindly and grabs your arm, drawing you forward, “she’s going to apologise.”

You look at him. You can’t hide your surprise at his declaration. Apologise. For what? They lied to you. How could you know any better? But you suppose you should’ve listened. You nod and Steve lets you go.

You face Bucky and step closer, folding one hand over the other.

“Bucky,” you begin.

“Sweetheart,” Steve hovers behind you, “you call him sergeant.”

Your lips part and you look down at your feet. You place them within the lines of the hardwood and count to three. You’d been standing right on the lines. That's bad luck!

You look up again and bring your hands over your chest.

“Sergeant,” you voice quavers and you swallow to steady it, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. But I know now and I’ll be good because I know you’re just trying to help me.” Your eyes well as you remember his angry voice, “I’m real sorry about throwing the tea at you. I was only afraid.” You touch your cheeks and sway back and forth, “I’m not a mean person.”

His blue eyes are icy and his jaw set. He arches a brow and peeks at Steve. He raises his chin and lets his expression soften as he turns to you fully. He tilts his head as he grips his hip.

“Doll,” he says softly, “I forgive you. But I won’t a second time. Got it?”

“Yes,” you pout.

“We talked,” Steve says, “she understands now.”

“Ah,” Bucky hums, “good.”

You nod and look from one to the other. Steve touches the small of your back as he steps up beside you. You slouch and shy away from him.

“Why don’t you show the sergeant how sorry you are and make him a nice breakfast?” Steve suggests, “you know what they say about men.”

You shake your head. Who is they and what do they say?

“The way to his heart is through his stomach,” Steve chuckles.

“Oh,” you bat your lashes, “so… um, what should I make?”

“Coffee,” Bucky grumbles as he rubs his eyes.

“There’s bacon and eggs in the fridge, can you cook that?”

“Yes! Yes, I can cook,” you proclaim, “I know how.”

“Of course, honey,” Steve drags his fingertips up your arm, “you can do so much. I know you can. A lot more than you think. And we just want to help you learn how to do more.”

You don’t want to seem ungrateful. It’s only confusing. You did overreact. You didn’t even let them explain. It’s no wonder they got a bit pushy.

“Thank you,” you chirp, “you’re so nice.” You look at his hand as he caresses above your elbow, “and this is a very nice house. I’ve never been to a cabin before. It’s so nice you would bring me here.”

“Ha, yeah, you know, me and Bucky built it,” Steve explains.

“You did?” You round your eyes and take another look around. You can’t imagine all that work. “Wow!”

"Coffee," Bucky grits as he leans his chin in his hand.

"Oh, yes," you twiddle your fingers and flutter around, watching your feet as you step between the trim of the hardwood slats of the floor, "I can make... coffee. I don't drink it you know, just tea. Coffee makes me... hyper!"

You spin cluelessly. Not knowing where to begin. You have no idea where everything is. There are no labels like your apartment. Every shelf, every cupboard has the precise contents listed on the outside, just like you like. So everything is in order. You hate chaos.

Bucky grumbles and Steve lets out a soft breath, "sweetheart, one step at a time," he girds.

Steve comes forward as you step back to watch him open a cupboard. He pulls down a bag of coffee, burlap with print stamped across it. The smell of its contents seep into your nose. Comforting even if its too bitter for your taste.

"Oh, thanks," you step forward carefully and hug the bag with your hands.

"Grinder is here," he points, "and the press."

You look between both and try to hide your confusion. Oh. You don't know how to do all that. You chew your lip and loosen the drawstring at the top of the bag. You stare inside tenuously.

He opens a drawer and takes out a metal measuring cup. He offers it to you.

"One scoop."

You take it and scoop out the beans. Then you just stand there with it. You look at him and cringe.

"In the grinder," he directs gently as he pulls forward the little square machine and pops the top.

You pour the beans inside, the rattle of them making a small rhythm that carries in your head. You bop your head, trying to follow it as your nerves get the better of you. You can't help but make up little nonsensical songs in your head when you feel so lost.

He shuts the lid and steps back.

"Press the button."

You obey and press the button. There's a short whir then the machine quiets again.

He stifles a laugh, "hold it down."

You push and keep your finger jammed. You watch the blade turn the beans to powder and he gestures for you to stop. He slides over the press and pulls a spoon out of the open drawer. You reach over to shut it without thinking. He hesitates but says nothing about it.

"So, six table spoons. Open it up."

You try to flip the top of the machine open like he did but it won't budge. You grab it firmly and try to force it open. He moves forward.

"You gotta hit the switch--"

Suddenly the compartment detaches from the rest of the machine and the lid opens, dusting you and the floor with coffee grinds. You stand in stunned silence as a growl rolls up Bucky's throat.

"Steve, just make the coffee, I'm dying here."

"I'm sorry," you push your lip out, "I made a mess."

You look around at the smatter of grinds all around you and littered across your dress. You shake it off and shiver. You glance between the men.

"I'm very sorry," you apologise again, "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. Don't be mad."

"It's fine, sweetheart," Steve reaches to touch your shoulder and you flinch, "get the broom out of the closet. Clean it up."

"Uh, uh, alright," you shake off the front of your dress before turning on your heel.

You go to the closet, the weight of Bucky's gaze following you. You open the door and find a broom, taking it out with the dustpan. You shut it and look past it to the doorway that gives a peak of another; a door with windows that look out on a leafy yard.

"Doll," Bucky warns from behind you.

"Sorry, was just looking," you spin and nearly trip over the bristles.

"Can't go outside until we can trust you," he adds.

"You don't trust me," you stand dumbly with the broom and pan. "Why not?"

He gives you a look. Your lips form an O. Yeah, the tea. Fair.

"Sorry," you repeat.

You set to sweeping up the grinds and Steve shows you where the bin is. Then he goes about making the coffee himself as you watch. He peeks over and smiles.

"Bacon and eggs are in the fridge."

You nod and go to the large fridge, a wooden front that makes it blend in with the rest of the decor. You open it and find the eggs easily but can't figure which paper packet is bacon. Not until you see the scribble sharpy scrawled on the other side.

You go back to the counter and peer around. Just as clueless as ever. Steve directs you to the pots and pans and you take out what you need. He tells you to put the kettle on and you stop to do that as he stands back and watches you. It suddenly feels like a test.

You struggle to catch the gas burner, making yourself dizzy as the flame doesn't light.

"She's gonna burn this place down," Bucky snarls.

"Relax," Steve steps forward and gets the burner going for you. "There."

"She can't do anything on her own."

Steve retreats and points at Bucky. You don't look back as he approaches the other man and you hear the scratch of a whisper between them. You put the kettle on the lit burner, then lay the skillet on another. You focus and repeat what Steve did, managing to light the second.

"I did it!"

Bucky sighs as Steve praises you, "good girl."

You could smile. You're good. You can do things.

You turn on the oven, that's easier. You lay out bacon on a sheet and wait for it to preheat as you add oil to the pan. You search the cupboard and find a bowl to mix the eggs. You examine the spice rack, taking your pick of the many containers.

You shake your head and seal your lips as you have to smell them to see which is which. Steve hums before he speaks.

"What's wrong?"

You shrug, "nothing..."

He arches his brow and lifts his chin slightly. You clutch the oregano and gulp.

"Captain," you clear your throat, "in my apartment, I label stuff so I know. I can't find anything without the labels."

"Labels?" He repeats thoughtfully.

"Use your head. Remember," Bucky scoffs and receives a nudge from Steve.

"Labels, how about we make that your first project. Bucky can go in to town and get you a nice label maker of your own," Steve looks at his companion, "won't you?"

Bucky scowls, "if I don't get coffee soon, I'm not doing shit."

You widen your eyes and cover your mouth. Steve tuts, "Buck, watch your mouth."

"She's an adult, she can handle it."

"You're an adult too so stop being a brat," Steve warns, "sweetheart, keep going. I'll get his coffee."

He nears and pulls down a mug from yet another cupboard. He fills it and holds it up, "the sergeant takes his black, I don't mind a bit of cream. Okay?"

"Black," you nod at Bucky, "cream," you look back at Steve, "I'll try to remember."

"I know," he winks before he walks away.

He hands over the mug to Bucky and comes back to pour his own but you're there first. You put down the oregano and reach up to grab a red mug. You shut the cupboard and fill it, scurrying around Steve to grab the cream from the fridge. You add a little and offer him the cup. A grin slowly spread across his face.

"You're so sweet, thank you," he takes it, "you're a good learner, you know that?"

"I am?" You smile.

"Very smart girl," he raises the cup, blowing across it before taking a sip, "perfect. You got it just right."

You clap your hands together proudly, "see," you face Bucky, "I can do it, sergeant."

He squints at you over his own steaming mug and says nothing as he drinks. His blue eyes pierce you coldly. Your face falls and you tuck your chin down, turning back to take the oregano and you go back to the bowl of eggs.

You can do this. You're not going to burn the eggs. Or the bacon.

"Do you have a timer?" You ask. That's the only way you ever get anything done but you don't have your phone anymore, which means all your alarms are useless.

"Yep," Steve grabs a small apple shaped timer from the corner of the counter and places it by the stove, "just twist."

"Thank you, Captain," you take it and look at the numbers.

He leans in and lowers his voice, "he'll come around. You'll show him, I know you will, sweetheart."

You bite down your lip and look at him. His eyes fall to your mouth as it curves, just a little, your cheeks burning.

"I'm trying," you eke out.

"I know," he reaches to rub your arm, dragging his hand up around your shoulder and playing with the sleeve of your dress, "did I tell you how nice you look?"

"Thank you," you preen.

"Doesn't she look nice, Bucky?" He steps back and crosses to the island where Bucky nurses his cup.

"Not bad," Bucky says, not quite a compliment but not as bad as you expect.

You'll just have to do better. Put all those tools that Dr. Makira gave you to work.

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viking-raider · 1 year

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This is some Syverson energy! He'd so know how to open his belt with one hand.

It also itches that Muse I got a year ago, where Sy is a Lumberjack, (the family business), after he gets out of the Army, and falls in love with Reader, who's an Environmentalist, protesting at the site Sy is felling trees.

#henry cavill #henrycavill #viking-raider fics #Syverson #captain syverson #cpt syverson #Lumberjack #bradley.thor - Instagram

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jockw · 1 month

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backs

originally drew the lumberjack au first and then it reminded me of "Her Heart Still Beats" by dolly so i did both lmao

bonus; Annabel stole the shirt lol

#nevermore webtoon #nevermore webcomic #nevermore #lenore nevermore #lenore vandernacht #lumberjack au #siren au #dolly's fic #fisherman lenore #sobbbb i need more

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thornsnvultures · 2 years

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Already There

Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x plus size!fem!reader

cw: slight angst, 950 words

a/n: a short follow up to my fic Ooey Gooey after Bucky leaves with Sam. I've had this 2/3rds written for like 5 or 6 months now 🙃 finished up the rest of it for @the-slumberparty 's week two prompt: Write a drabble/one shot as a continuation to one of your previous works. Based on the song "I'm Already There" by Lonestar. divider by @/firefly-graphics

Bucky can't sleep. Anxiety seeping through his bones. His body isn't used to being on the road for this long anymore.

Sitting at the edge of the too soft, too small bed in just his boxers. Even though the room is cool he's covered in sweat from a night of tossing and turning.

Bucky runs his hands through his hair and thinks of you. How your warm smile can wipe away all his worries. It's why he starts every day with you at the general store. And why he feels your absence so strongly now.

He wants to see you.

It's been days but it feels like years. His phone is a brick, built for making emergency calls out in the middle of nowhere, not video calls like Sam's fancy new iPhone. It still has an antenna for fuck's sake. Until you, Bucky didn't have a reason for a real cell phone. He knows Sam wouldn't mind Bucky using his but Bucky's not waking him up so he can tease him about giving his sort of girlfriend a call at one am.

So Bucky sits there, contemplating. He scratches his stubbled jaw, worrying at his lower lip. Would you even pick up this late at night? You said you'd answer no matter what, but this is different from his usual 9am calls when you're already up and most likely at work.

"Fuck."

Sam stirs behind him on the other bed but doesn't wake. Bucky throws on a pair of sweats and heads for the door to the balcony, grabbing the brick on his way out.

The cool night air wraps around Bucky his sweat slick skin feeling tight as he closes the sliding glass door. There's not much of a view, just the parking lot of this old motel and the fog dense trees beyond.

But the moon, she's nearly full and so, so bright.

Bucky takes a deep breath and dials your number, pushing away thoughts of whether or not he deserves to hear your voice right now. It doesn't matter, he can be selfish for a moment.

The phone rings twice and in those short seconds Bucky's heart rate skyrockets almost painfully until, finally, you answer.

"Bucky?"

The breathy way you whisper his name makes his stomach tighten. It's a moment too long before he responds.

"Hey."

"Everything okay?"

Bucky can hear your sheets rustling, the switch to your lamp clicking on as you presumably sit up in bed.

"Yeah...yeah I'm sorry for waking you. Just couldn't sleep."

He hesitates, the frayed drawstring hanging from his sweats unraveling even more as Bucky plays with it while he takes a deep, shaking breath.

"I -- uh, I wanted to hear your voice."

"Oh."

You sound surprised. Bucky hesitates.

"I'm sorry, it's late I'll let you get back to sleep."

"No! No, it's okay. I'm glad you called."

"Yeah?"

"Of course, Bucky," your giggle makes Bucky smile, feel that warmth spread through his chest again like it did the last time he saw you. Filling him to burst with that one sound.

"God I miss you, sugar. Sam's keeping me up all night with his snoring."

"Oh, no. Is it that bad?," you gasp in mock horror.

Bucky smirks as one of Sam's snores rattles through the glass door behind him.

"The worst, sugar. He could wake the dead."

"Should'a sent you off with ear plugs, huh?"

"Mm, you'll have to remind me next time."

Bucky pauses at the prospect of a "next time", of leaving you again when he's just got started loving you like he's wanted to for what feels like forever.

"I miss you, sugar."

"I miss you too, Buck," he can hear your sweet smile. It makes his heart ache.

Bucky's throat feels tight. He didn't know how much he needed to see your beautiful face every day until he left.

"Is it silly to feel this way? Like I can't breathe without you here."

"It's not silly," you sniffle on the other end of the line and Bucky almost regrets saying anything.

"I can't wait to feel you again. Take you in my arms and not let you go."

You laugh into the receiver and Bucky can't stop from smiling.

"Sam will have to pry me off you with a crowbar to get you off me and back to the Mill."

"He's welcome to try," Bucky practically snarls.

"I love you, Bucky."

He swallows the lump in his throat, taken aback by your sudden admission.

"I know you're having a hard time, but I'm right there with you, sleeping under the same moonlight and wishing you were right here with me. It's not silly. You're not asking for too much. And I miss you way more than you miss me."

Bucky scoffs at your teasing and wipes at his eyes. "No way, sugar.

"Prove it to me when you get back, then. Show me how much you missed me when you see me again and we'll decide then."

"I love you, sugar."

"I know. Make it back home safe so I can have you all to myself."

Bucky adjusts his sleep pants, imagining all the ways he can have you just how he wants to.

"Get some sleep, Buck. I need to know you'll be safe out there on the road."

"I will. I promise."

"Good. Good night, handsome.

"Goodnight, sugar."

Bucky hangs up, giving the antenna a satisfying click shut. He takes one last look at the moon before heading back inside and crawling under the covers. For the first time since before his accident, Bucky falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. And he dreams of you, bathed in moonlight.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagines #lumberjack!bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabble #navy and roo sleepover #my fics

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wh0reforoldmen · 1 year

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I'm Sorry

Pairing: Softdark!Lumberjack! Bucky X Fem!Reader

warnings: Angst, fluff??, manipulation, implied imprisonment, implied dubcon/noncon depending on how you interpret it, Not beta red, written on my phone while sleep deprived, tell me if I missed anything.

word count: 1.13k

summary: You made Bucky mad, and he makes you apologize for your "wrong doing"

You didn't hear the door slam, you didn't even hear him come into the house or walk upstairs and open the door.

"Honey," he spoke from the doorway, his voice soft and soft and smooth.

You sucked up a breath and slowly lifted your head, the ache at the back of your neck made you wince. Your arms and legs were bound to the bed so you couldn't escape.

Bucky had two things in hand, a small thin box and something that looked like a bouquet. The black room made it hard to tell just from the light behind him.

"Hey there," he greeted, turning on the lights with a smile on his face.

Wincing at the sudden brightness, you closed your eyes and waited to adjust to the light before opening them. The first thing that caught your eye wasn't the gifts, but how sweaty he was, his red and white chequered flannel shirt was open revealing his chiselled and toned chest, his skin sheen with sweat, his hair was scruffed up, strands escaped the hair tie and was free to go wild, a few strands sticking up from his scalp. You couldn't lie, he always looked good after chopping down some trees, and while he's doing it is even better. Some days if you wake up early enough, you can hear him grunt and groan, followed by the sound of wood splitting.

Shaking your head and clearing your mind, your eyes wander to the gifts; a box of your favourite chocolate and a bouquet, bright red and fresh roses and soft pink tulips with other flowers and green decorations you didn't know the name of. It was nice, considerate even, but it was from him. And you didn't want anything from him.

"You like them? I picked them myself, thought of you," he explained with a smile, walking over to you, his heavy boots making the floorboards creak with every step. You still wonder how he gets around the house with no shoes in silence.

"Don't want them," you hissed, turning your head and facing away from him.

A month you've been here. A month being in this room. A month being in this house unwillingly. You just walked passed his shop a few months ago, and here you are, tied to a bed so you can't escape, no one looking for you, and with James fucking Barnes. The hot lumberjack who is the most fucked up person you've ever met!

Bucky was stunned at your words, he gets up at the ass crack of dawn to work, and then he feeds you and cares for you even when you're having a bad day. He thought it'll be nice to treat you, but this is how you repay him?

"I'm sorry?" He asked as it came out as a chuckle, keeping his anger at bay.

"You heard me! I. Don't.want.them." You spat, turning your heat, eyebrows furrow, your jaw tight before you looked away again.

The control over his anger snapped.

"Listen here, missy!" He yelled, grabbing your shirt and yanking you towards him, earning him a gasp.

"I'm the only one who works around here; I feed you, I look after you, I make sure you're comfortable, I make sure that you're happy here. And this is the thanks I get?" He snarled. "I try my damn hardest, and this is what I get. Someone who is an ungrateful girl! Thanks, it lets me know I'm appreciated around here!"

He threw you back down on the bed, bouncing at the force as you watched him storm out, slamming the door behind him and storming down the stairs. You didn't know when you started to cry but you felt the hot tears trickle down your cheeks. You hated yelling in general, and that lost you. You hated it.

You kept your sobs at bay as you laid down on the comfortable bed, the soft pillows embarrassing you and your tears. You couldn't even hug yourself since the restraints were too short.

You stared at the blank ceiling as tears continued to flow. You didn't get it though. You were crying over him yelling at you. He was upset. And that made you upset. Why? It shouldn't have! What's happening?

It took you a few minutes to calm down but the sounds of Bucky grunting and the sound of the logs being split in two in one or two hits wasn't a good sign.

You turned to your side and listened to his grunts as they lulled you to sleep, the pillow still wet on your cheek.

Bucky had walked back in a few hours later, his anger gone and what was left was hurt. He wanted to care for you. He loves you! Yes, he did take you from your home, but it was for a good cause! You love him too. He knows it. You may not yet, but he knows that deep down in that big heart of yours, you love him and you'll forgive everything that he's done.

He sighed as he made his way upstairs with a glass of water. He saw red when he was yelling at you, but when he heard the soft sobs after he walked out made his heart shatter into a million pieces. But it is what you deserve. You're in his house, and he rests you like a guest but you're rude. Hopefully, you've learnt.

Slowly, he opened the door to your room and smiled as he saw you sleeping peacefully. You did look a little uncomfortable due to the soft rope, but he had to ensure you weren't going anywhere.

Bucky silently walked over to you, sliding off his shoes and quietly laying next to you on top of the covers. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to his chest. You must have woken up from it because you looked behind you, your face had fear written all over it.

"I do anything for you, I do everything. I thought that you'd like them, but apparently not…" he mumbled, shaking his head "think you have something to say to me,"

Your brain screamed at you to not say anything, to keep your eyes away from his, but your eyes met his beautiful blue ones. The softness towards you, the love and admiration no one ever gave you. "I'm sorry, Bucky. Having a bad day…" you whisper, looking down. "I do like them I just… miss home,"

"This is your home, honey. I promise, it will look better than this with our children, but baby steps," he smiled, planting a kiss on your head before kissing down your cheek, to your neck.

"I think I have an idea how to cheer you up,"

#bucky banres #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan imagine #x reader #Sebastian Stan #lumberjack #lumberjack!bucky #softdark!Bucky barnes #soft dark fic #soft dark lumberjack! Bucky

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navybrat817 · 6 months

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Can lumberjack Bucky take care of me?

Yes, nonnie.

To-Do List

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky shares a list of things to do with you when you wake up. Word Count: Over 600 Warnings: Fluff, pet names, talk of sex, light humor, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: More Burly and Bambi . @tavners, can we manifest this? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s spot on the bed beside you is cool when you wake up and reach for him, seeking out his warmth. You don’t want to start the day cold.

But he’s back in the bedroom before you can get up to look for him, a tray in his hands and a smile on his face as you yawn.

The shirtless sight of your burly man is enough to chase any lingering tiredness away.

“Wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed, Bambi,” he says as he sets the tray over you and lets you look over the feast he prepared. “You drooling over the food or me?” he teases.

You wipe at your chin, thinking for a moment that you did drool. “Both,” you smile, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear once he gets back in bed. “What’s the occasion?”

It isn't your birthday and or anniversary. No reason to celebrate anything.

“No reason at all, darling,” he answers, sincerity in his bright eyes before he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Just want to take care of you.”

Your heart flutters because no other guy had ever done anything for you just because they wanted to. “You take very good care of me,” you promise, feeding him a bite.

You watch him lick his lips after his bite, your heart fluttering for an entirely different reason. “This is just a start,” he says, feeding you a bite in return.

You would never turn down his cooking or him feeding you.

“What else could you possibly have planned? You have to work.”

“No work today,” he replies, nodding to a small piece of paper beside the plate.

A smile spreads across your face due to the impromptu day off before you pick up the sheet and scan it, recognizing his handwriting. “‘Burly and Bambi’s To Do List’,” you announce as he chuckles. “Breakfast in bed.”

“Check,” he smiles, feeding you another bite.

“Cuddle in bed,” you continue.

“After breakfast.”

A giggle bubbles up when you read the next thing on the list. “This just says ‘Each other’,” you state, which you would happily help him cross off.

He puts a hand on his chest when you laugh more. “Are you making fun of my list? You wound me.”

“I’m not,” you promise. Any excuse to do your lumberjack, you’ll take it.

“Good. Because I have us doing each other as number 6,” he smirks, your throat dry when his gaze falls to your chest. “And 9.”

You laugh all over again, careful not to shake the tray. “6 and 9? 69? Really?”

“It’s a good number,” he says nonchalantly. “And as your personal lumberjack, I’ll also be happy to split you in half.”

It’s a tempting offer and you’ll take him up on it. “After we eat.”

“Good idea,” he agrees, popping a bite of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You need your strength.”

“Cocky,” you whisper, but he’s right. You do need your strength because he’s insatiable. “You also have watch a movie together and snuggle with a blanket under the stars.”

“I’ll keep you nice and warm,” he promises, gesturing to the sheet. “Flip it over.”

You’re not sure how you manage to hold back tears as you read it, falling more in love with Bucky as you read out loud, “Tell Bambi how much I love her every day.”

He grasps your chin so you can’t hide your face. “I love you, Bambi,” he whispers, pressing his soft lips against yours.

You ask yourself how you’re lucky enough to be his girl as you kiss him back. “I love you, too, Burly.”

And you would tell him every day, too.

These two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months

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june

a summer in dunbrook, part one

a/n: i desperately needed something comforting and familiar to sit and fiddle with this summer, so this is what happened: a little mini series to continue lilac! just a cute little summer in their lives ৎ୭

summary: “oh, hi,” Frank’s brows rose up as he glanced down at the dog firmly planting itself by your feet, “who is this?”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, sequel to lilac, smut, lumberjack AU, a cutie patootie dog (yes, we're basically turning this into one of those wholesome dog movies), kissing, size kink, dirty talk, manhandling, fingering, sex toys, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, some pain (frank is just too damn big and reader is too stubborn/greedy for it as we all are), unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 4138

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“You know, you could help me,” you grumbled with your head half stuffed inside a messy cardboard box.

“I don’t know…” Frank let an exhale flow through his smirk as he raised his mug of black coffee back up to his lips, “I like you without pants.”

Shooting him a glance as he leisurely leaned back against the kitchen counter and enjoyed the show of you running around like a headless chicken, you said, “oh yeah? Do you really want me to go to the inn like this?” and gestured to your half-dressed state, then swiftly ripped open another box and mumbled, “I knew I should have packed my summer clothes somewhere obvious. Of course the heat decides to finally hit right when I move into the cabin and everything is impossible to find…”

You were truly regretting the decision not to label any of the moving boxes. You’d thought you wouldn’t need to bother with how few items you had to take with you, but evidently, you should have, now that the few boxes seemed impossible to sort through.

Setting down his mug, Frank then slowly closed the distance between him and the container balanced on the couch. His hand only seemed to disappear into it a fraction of a second before it raised back up into the air, now with a pair of your shorts miraculously dangling from his grip.

Your eyes grew wide, “how did you–…” before, utterly dumbfounded, you reached out for them.

Briefly, he bent down and pressed his lips to your hairline, “sometimes you just can’t see the thing lying right in front of you.”

Blinking back up into his gaze, a smile tugged at your lips.

“Thank you,” an exhale flowed from you as the frantic stress of the search slowly melted away.

As you shimmied the linen shorts on, you truly let yourself notice the moving boxes littering Frank’s cabin, or rather, your shared cabin, your home.

It had been yesterday when you finally found the time to pack down everything and haul it over, even though you’d been talking about it for what felt like forever. It would probably take a little longer before it stopped feeling like a dream, but in this blissful moment, it sank in just a little bit more, enough to prevent you from pinching yourself.

“When do you get off?” Frank asked as you tugged a pair of sandals on, “four?”

“Yeah, probably,” you swung your bag over your shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll come pick you up then,” his words caused the corners of your lips to tilt upwards.

Your feet then shuffled, not in the direction of the door, but the opposite way, where Frank still stood. Raising yourself up onto your tiptoes, you pressed your lips to his in a soft peck and sighed, “I love you…”

“Have a good day,” he uttered back in the slim space between you.

“…and over here and here are some really great trails if you wanna go for a hike,” you circled on the folded map before glancing back up at the guests leaning against the front desk, “one cuts through the woods and goes on next to some farmland where you’ll probably bump into some cows, maybe sheep, whereas the other one goes up some of the mountains, so you get an amazing view.”

“Oh, great,” one of the women smiled as you slid the map back into her palms, “thank you so much!”

“Of course, you’re welcome,” your head tilted in a gentle nod as they trotted out the inn’s front door.

On the veranda, the other lady called over her shoulder to you, “bye!” before she seized her companion’s hand and they disappeared from your sight.

As you popped the blue pen in your grasp back in the ceramic mug behind the desk, reuniting it with all its other brethren, you felt something brush up against your leg.

Glancing down, your eyebrows swiftly shot up at the sight that met you.

A dog.

A big, fluffy golden retriever to be exact.

“Oh… hello,” you blinked, “where did you come from?”

The animal however didn’t offer you an answer but instead simply dashed out of the still-open door, onto the porch and around towards the garden.

With a bewildered gaze, you rounded into the dining room and asked your father as he was gathering the last remaining dishes from this morning, “hey, yesterday, when I got off early to take care of the whole move, did someone new check-in? Someone that had a dog with them?”

“A dog? No,” Harvey puffed as he balanced a stack of plates, “no one checked in last night, with or without a pet.”

Shadowing him as he strode into the kitchen and dumped the dishes into the soapy sink, your brows stayed furrowed, “you sure? Because I literally just saw one.”

A chuckle then burst out your dad’s lungs, “yeah, right you did.”

“No, I really did, I’m not kidding.”

Halting his scrubbing, he glanced back at you and warily scanned your features, “you alright, honey? Is this seeing a dog code for something? Blink twice if you wanna move back home.”

“Oh my god, no,” you groaned at his jest and then spotted a golden flicker of movement out the window to the garden, “see,” you pointed, “it’s right there, I’m not lying.”

Following the line of your outstretched finger, the moustachioed man’s face then dropped as he spotted the dog energetically rolling in the grass before it ran over to a rusty bucket to lap at the old rainwater within, “well I’ll be damned…”

“…are you sure you don’t wanna come in and join me for dinner?” the brash tone of Donna carried on the wind and found your ears as you descended the porch steps.

“No, thank you, ma’am,” Frank declined, seemingly cornered by the voluptuous woman as he waited by his dark navy truck, “I already have plans tonight.”

“As you seem to have every time I ask you… guess I’ll just have to try a bit harder then,” Donna’s gaze lapped him up, “catch you off guard…”

Like an angel sent to save him, his face lit up at he spotted you, “Y/n! Hey, how was your day?”

The gravel beneath your sandals rusted as you first turned your attention towards your old educator, “Donna, please stop flirting with Frank,” you held back a chuckle, “you know how uncomfortable it makes him.”

“I know, I know, it’s just too fun watching him squirm,” she offered him a wink before she sauntered past you with a brief pat to your shoulder and then went on, disappearing into the inn.

Twisting your frame in Frank’s direction, he swiftly caught your hand and ushered you even closer.

“Hi,” a soft smile spread across your features before he stole a kiss.

“Hi,” he quietly echoed before pressing his lips to yours again.

The kiss however crumbled when a short bark sounded at your feet.

“Oh, hi,” Frank’s brows rose up as he glanced down at the dog firmly planting itself by your feet, “who is this?”

“I don’t know,” you sucked in a breath, “it’s not one of the guests’, but it has been following me around all day. Wherever I’d go, whatever I’d do, I’d just turn around and there it was.”

Sinking down, he kneeled beside it to offer a scratch behind its ear, “well, you’re certainly not a stray,” his fingers found the green collar fasted around its neck and glanced at the small, round attachment dangling from it, “let’s see here… Enzo,” he read off the nameplate and flipped it in his palm.

“Is there a number of the owner?” you asked, bending down a bit to run your fingers over the honied fur along Enzo’s spine.

“No,” Frank exhaled and let the pendant slip out of his grasp, “but your home probably isn’t far,” both of his hands briefly came up to scratch the dog’s cheeks as he spoke to him, “you just need to go back there.”

After he’d risen back up to his full height, the dog attempted to jump into the car with you as soon as you swung the passenger door open, “hey, no! Go home!” you pointed in a vague direction.

At first, you thought your command had succeeded as Enzo swiftly ran in your opposite direction, but then as his paws climbed the wide porch steps, your head tilted to the side as you watched him flop down and plant himself on the veranda.

“O-oh…” the moan shuttered from your parted lips as Frank switched up the swirling pattern his touch had traced, playing with the wetness that leaked from your first orgasm, drawing tingling circles over your little rosebud before he then began to press just the tip of a glossy finger inside.

You were half sitting in his lap, your spine melted back against his chest, as he peeked over your shoulder to grin down at the mess he made of you.

A kiss was pressed to your hot cheek as your ass slowly swallowed more of his digit and you sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

“Relax, sweetheart,” his low timbre rumbled in your ear, “don’t forget to breathe now,” a reminder that your foggy mind truly needed at this point.

His efforts were ever so gentle, easing his way inside, though contrastingly panted behind you and nearly moaned at how good you felt.

“Fuck,” he cursed as you relaxed enough around him to let another finger inside, “you sure you want it today? Are you sure that you’re ready?”

“Frank,” your grip tightened slightly around his thick forearm as it flexed lightly at every gentle rock of his digits, “it’s nearly been a month,” you spoke impatiently about the prep, not unlike how he tickled you now, “I don’t wanna wait any longer. I wanna feel–, oh fuck–,” you whimpered as he tried to stuff another finger inside, “I-I wanna feel you–, y-your–,” your words began to melt into nothingness as that familiar storm began to brew within your being once again.

“You wanna feel my cock stretch this little ass out?” he filled in as if that hadn’t been the most common wish on your tongue for the past season.

“Mhm,” your head nodded, rocking back against his broadness.

When the announcement of your inevitable peak tumbled off your tongue, to your surprise, the man behind you didn’t keep up the dizzying pattern his slick fingers had worked their way up to, but instead retracted them completely only to roll you both over onto your sides. As your face fell down upon the corner of a pillow, you almost twisted back around, nearly just let your itching fingers shoot down to take matters into your own hands, but then Frank yanked your hips back, not only pulling you closer to him, but effortlessly sinking you down onto his cock, your throbbing pussy swallowing him in one fell swoop.

With the timing of it all, he almost didn’t get the chance to tilt back his hips and begin a rhythm, before your cunt clenched down around him and made his job that much more trying.

In the daze of your high, you weren’t quite sure if you got to lay there a moment and fade into the feeling, or if Frank seized the first opportunity he got to manhandle you into a different configuration. Sliding out of you, he positioned you on your wobbly knees and let your upper body melt down onto the mattress.

Holding you upright by your hips, he then leaned down over you and planted kisses all along your goosebump-ridden spine.

“How are you holding up, baby?”

“Oh,” your toes curled as you felt his hard length nuzzle against your dripping folds from the proximity, “uh-huh,” your arms hazily curved up to fold beneath your face, “I’m–, uh-huh…”

“You wanna try?” his soft question pierced through your fog.

“Please.”

“Yeah?” his comforting weight then lightened against you as he straightened back up behind you.

“Yeah,” you echoed, sluggishly wiggling your ass back against him when you felt him rub his bulbous tip against your puckered rosebud.

As he then slowly dipped the head just shyly inside, it nearly sounded like a prayer as a mutter flowed through his controlled breath, “shh, relax for me, sweetheart. Let me in…”

He stilled his gentle efforts as soon as the very essence of him breached.

“Fuck, you’re so tight…”

Though you’d prepared yourself and imagined what his girth would feel like splitting that part of you open, the stretch however was still much more severe than you’d expect, swiftly causing your puffs of air to come in ragged as he nearly didn’t fit and clearly had to use all his might for your little hole to let even the slightest bit of him in.

Carefully leaning back down over you, Frank soothingly pressed his lips to your cheek before he checked, “you okay?” noticing how tense you suddenly were beneath him.

Out of fear that he’d pick up too much information on the tone of your voice, you opted for a strained nod instead, nuzzling your face further into the bed as you panted.

“Y/n,” your name rolled off his tongue, dripping in sincerity, “please don’t lie if you’re in pain.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” your weak deception failed as soon as it left your lips.

You weren’t sure however if he then chose to believe you or what, but he somehow bought the lie and instead reached for the bottle of lube tangled in the sheets.

After he’d cautiously added a little extra slickness, his broad palm floated down to soothe your spine as he pushed in another inch.

Though as soon as a breathless squeak left your lungs, Frank froze up once again.

“Y/n…” you heard him sigh from above you, “we talked about this…”

“No,” you insisted as the paralysing pleasure you felt drowned out the sting, “please, Frank.”

“It's okay, you’re not ready yet–”

“No, I am! Please don’t pull out!”

The motion revving up in his hips paused at your plea.

“Honey, I'm not gonna hurt you,” his warm touch swept against the curve of your waist, “I know that you want this, but–”

“But please, Frank,” you interrupted, tilting your head around to catch his gaze, “trust me when I tell you not to stop,” sighing softly, you blinked up at him from your prone position, “don’t I feel really good?”

“Well,” the breath got caught slightly in his throat, “of course you do, but that’s not what this is about.”

“Don’t you wanna know what it feels like to have your whole cock inside? Just how tight my little ass will squeeze you?”

You watched as his jaw clenched, “baby, you gotta stop, it’s hard enough as it is to keep my head on while I’m inside of you. If you keep running your mouth like that I might–”

“What?” you taunted, “fuck me with more than just the tip?”

Holding your gaze, his chest expanded with a handful of breaths before he then moved his hips again, just ever so slightly, studying how your face contorted at the minimal motion.

“Oh my god,” you moaned as it became an impossible task to hold his fierce gaze “keep going, please,” you prayed even though your legs trembled beneath you.

As he slowly found a gentle rhythm, he cautiously uttered, “talk to me, sweetheart. How does that feel?”

“It–, fuck, it’s so much,” a short and airy giggle slipped out past your whimper, “it feels amazing, but fuck it’s just so intense.”

Every careful thrust he offered you pushed a tiny moan out of your lungs, like he was orchestrating a beautiful symphony that grew to a crescendo the more your body began to tingle, nearing the edge once again.

“You’re doing so great, baby,” his touch grazed your propped-up backside, caressing you as he stared down at how you clung around his girth.

“Nghh–, don’t stop,” you panted as your fingers tightened their grip on the crumbled duvet before the ever-present tremble to your frame grew and quaked into a tremor severe enough to lurch you off of Frank’s length and send you crashing down onto the mattress, nearly digging your way through it as yet another orgasm washed over you.

The next thing you knew, Frank flipped you around, rolling you onto your back. You were still in a daze as he propped a pillow beneath your ass and folded your legs up high by your melted frame.

Unsure what he had planned, if he was on the verge of kneeling down to lap up the nectar that dripped out of you, or perhaps even something much more nefarious, you instead, quite literally, took matters into your own hands.

Your eyes were barely open as you, through your stunned haze, reached down for his dick and tilted it enough so that it kissed your sore entrance.

Taking the hint, Frank caught your flickering gaze long enough to nod, “deep breath, sweetheart,” and sank his cock back into your ass.

Both of your arms curved down and over the backs of your thighs, gently holding them up as your partner gave you more of what you wanted. You didn’t care how overstimulated you still were from your all too recent high, in a way, the ecstasy of it made it easier for you to take him, even if tears did sting the corners of your eyes as you wiggled from the overwhelming sensation.

“Fuck!” you croaked as he began to grow in confidence, straying away from just fucking you with the mere tip of him.

Gradually, with each roll his hips offered, he let just a little bit more of him disappear into you, occasionally earning gasps as his length discovered new depths to stretch out and mould around his abundant thickness.

As you blinked up at him, like a shadowing mountain above you, his own stare didn’t find yours as it stayed glued to where he split you open.

“Oh, you’re doing so fucking well,” he groaned as he let a dollop of spit drop down to where you met, “I’m already halfway.”

“Halfway?” you mumbled, trying, though failing to glance down at the evidence, “I genuinely thought you were almost balls deep inside of me, holy shit–”

A small chuckle then rumbled in his chest at your flustered words, “you don’t have to take it all, especially not today,” he glanced up to catch your stare, “but you probably want to, right?” he worded before you had a chance to beg, “yeah, my girl can’t settle for just half. You’re all or nothing, even if it fucking breaks you.”

“I thought that’s what you liked about me,” you giggled up at him.

“No,” he smiled, “that’s what I love about you,” before he jammed nearly the remainder in, with only a shy inch left before his heavy sack would press up against your slick skin.

“O-oh my g–, ah!” you moaned, feeling like jello in his gasp.

“There you go,” he grunted, almost hissing at how you felt around him, “that’s what you wanted, right?”

“Y-yes,” you blubbered through your haze.

As his pelvis soon rutted up against yours, griding against your poor pussy as it drooled for him, “good job, baby,” he flashed you the proudest of smiles, “that’s my fucking girl.”

Curling a hand down to strum at your own clit, puffy and throbbing between your fingers as you began to roll it, Frank’s eye soon caught sight of it and just could resist budding in.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he stared down at the needy bubbles your cunt blew, “is your little pussy feeling neglected, huh? Is she feeling jealous?”

Your head nodded up at him as he reached down to replace your own digits.

Unable to resist, he briefly pinched your folds apart to half-mock the way your hole clenched around nothing and winked up at him in want.

“You want me to give you some attention here too?” he circled your puffy pearl as his frame sank down over you to steal a chased kiss, “you wanna be filled up in both holes?” his nose nuzzled against yours as you felt two of his fingers plug you up.

Even though you had at this point turned into an incoherent mess, you still attempted an answer, hazy at it though was, “y-yes, I–, please, Frank–”

Reaching far over your head with the glossy fingers that were no longer inside of you, his long grasp managed to pull the drawer in the bedside table open to snatch up a toy within it. He straightened back up above the puddle you’d become as he let his hand, already coated in your juices, briefly run along the silicon before he lowered it down and slowly filled you up.

He briefly slowed his own thrusts down as he buried the dildo deep inside your pussy, letting you attempt to conquer the uncatchable breath your lungs desperately expanded to find.

Your wetness leaked down from around the toy with every drive he offered, dripping and lending his cock to slide that much more silkily in and out of your ass.

As your creamy cunt began to squelch lewdly around the dildo, your fingers couldn’t help but flutter down to rub your clit, making it all that more intense.

To be honest, you weren’t sure if you were on the verge of cumming again or passing out, but either way, you just sank into the feeling and trusted that Frank would catch you either way.

“Oh, fuck,” Frank was the first to notice when you reached the peek once last time and your pussy gushed around the toy he teasingly drove within you.

The shuttering cry that tore its way out your lungs flew over your own head as you just shook beneath him, weakly rubbing your pussy as Frank yanked the dildo all the way out to admire the drizzle of juices that squirted out. As he continued to play with you, repeatedly plunging the silicone back in just to prolong the show that much further, you were just way too out of it to notice how your little ass milked his cock, squeezing down tight as he pumped you full.

You couldn’t really move afterwards, barely even speak as every time you parted your lips, only a breathless giggle slipped out.

He was still there.

When you got back to the inn the next day, laying on an oblong sunspot in the sitting room next to the reception was the amber-coloured ball of fluff you’d come to know as Enzo.

It even reached the point that the following day he hadn’t gone home yet either.

So, as your heart began to ache more and more for the lovable lost creature, you decided to take him to the local vet, dragging Frank along as well for moral support.

Unfortunately, no matter how many times you asked the veterinarian to search, she couldn’t find a microchip.

“Guess it’ll have to be the old-fashioned way,” the vet exhaled.

“How do you mean?” you asked, your fingers ever tangled in Enzo’s fur as he layed on the exam table.

“Well, put up some missing flyers while this little guy waits it out in the nearest kennel, which would be the one that’s about an hour away,” she pointed out the seclusion of the little town you all called home.

“Oh…” you uttered quietly as your eyes flickered down to catch Enzo’s sparkly ones.

Catching sight of the sombre look that glazed over your features, Frank gently nudged his elbow against your side and said, “we can help hang the posters up,” he caught your gaze as your head tilted back up, “and maybe spread the word, see if anyone recognises him.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I’m sure that if we ask Donna for help, she’ll be able to get the word out in record time.”

But as your gaze fluttered back down the dog, the lump in your throat only seemed to grow.

“Is there somewhere else he could stay?” you quietly asked the veterinarian, “somewhere a little more homely or even just closer?”

“Well, you could always foster him,” she tilted her head, “that’s an option.”

Glancing up at Frank, your mouth parted slightly, though no words came out as you silently conversed, pleading with him for permission.

It took you aback slightly to discover he didn’t need any convincing at all and swiftly replied, “yeah,” nodding gently before his gaze redirected to the vet, “we’ll do it.”

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buckrecs · 1 year

Note

Hi I was wondering if you had any recommendations for lumberjack!bucky

Lumberjack!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Hero Next Door by @jobean12-blog

You and your dog Winter have recently moved to the quiet of the country and you love it then you meet your new neighbor...

I’m yours by @peteyprecious616

soft lumberjack Bucky drabble

Safe Heaven by @world-of-aus

I’m Sorry by @wh0reforoldmen

Dark!Bucky You made Bucky mad, and he makes you apologize for your "wrong doing"

ooey gooey by @thornsnvultures

Every morning, Bucky comes to your store for terrible coffee and maybe something a little sweet on the side.

SERIES

Undisclosed by @pellucid-constellations

Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadn’t mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldn’t leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either.

Sturdy Roots, Strong Hearts by @rookthorne

Life in your small town could not have gotten any better, you had sworn. That was until you started to call a handsome, brooding lumberjack your best friend, and you developed butterflies at any mention of his name, or thought of him. Sure, it was going to be fine, you could do this. What could go wrong?

Through Sea Mist and Shadows by @archive-obsess

after years away, (Y/n) returns to the small family farm on a remote Maine island that was once considered her home. things are different now, her family bears her sad smiles, the fisherman's boy is quiet and reserved, and she herself has changed beyond her own recognition.

Lumberjack AUs by @angrythingstarlight

Lumberjack!Bucky Masterlist

Lumby and Bunny by @sweetdreamsbuck

Bucky's never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he's entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one's ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes series #lumberjack!bucky #bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #dark!bucky #beefy!bucky #neighbor!bucky

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Outside the Lines 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsessive compulsive behaviour, kidnapping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has her routine and her fellow patient gets in the way of those.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, (lumberjack AU)

Note: <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You watch the city outside the tinted window. As Bucky pulls up to the curb, you sit up, the seat belt snug against you, and crane around curiously. You don’t see the man before he gets to the door, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

The locks flick up with a loud click and he lets himself in, dropping into the seat.

“Hey, Buck,” he greets as his broad shoulder peek above the seat. He’s even bigger than your driver, “how’s it… going?” His voice trails off and he glances back at you, his lips curving slightly.

“Good, should be all ready,” Bucky answers cryptically and fixes the rearview to look at you, calling you by name, “this is my friend Steve–”

“Rogers?” you utter in surprise as the recollection sparks in your head. Even through his thick beard and overgrown hair, you know him. Not for real, just from the television. “erm, I’ve seen him… on TV.”

“Mm, yeah,” Steve sits straight and chuckles, “nice to meet you.” He buckles the seatbelt and adjusts the seat as he lets out a groan, “so, this is the one?”

You crinkle your nose curiously. It’s like they’re already halfway through a conversation that never even started.

“Quiet, but adequate,” Bucky replies and you assume they’re talking about the car. Maybe it’s new.

“Gas?” Steve intones.

“Won’t have to stop for a while,” Bucky assures.

They must be planning something big, you think, after they drop you off of course. You cradle your purse and bounce your leg as the locks sink back down with a jarring clack. You wince and play with your lip between your teeth as Bucky steers out into traffic.

You start to think of everything waiting at your apartment. You still had to put away the dishes you left in the rack and you wanted to hang that cross stitch you just finished. Maybe some laundry if you were feeling super motivated.

Wait.

“Um, you missed the turn,” you say as your eyes come back into focus and you look back at the street. You peek up front and see the GPS is no longer appearing on the touchscreen, “Bucky–”

“Just sit back, doll,” he says as he leans a little heavier on the gas, only inches away from the car ahead of him, “it’s okay.”

“What’s okay?” you ask as your breath burns in your lungs, “where are you going? My place is–”

“Now, just calm down and be quiet,” Bucky warns, “you don’t want to distract me, do ya? I’m driving.”

“I know but– Look! Turn here and you can head down–” you point but he veers in the opposite direction, jerking you so your purse slides beside your leg.

“Steve,” Bucky sighs and you cry out as suddenly your purse is wrenched through the space between their seats.

“What are you doing?” You whine and try to snatch it away but the seat belt holds you back. You fumble to unbuckle and Bucky slams on the break, sending you back so hard it knocks the wind from you.

“You don’t want to hurt yourself, doll,” he snarls, “and you don’t want me to either so put your seatbelt on. Now.”

You sputter as you watch Steve fish around in your bag. He takes out your phone and rips off the back casing, dismounting the battery and snapping the rest in half. You croak as you reach for it helplessly and Bucky smacks your hand.

“You get that belt on now or Steve can come back and help, isn’t that right?” Bucky arches a brow at the other man.

“Happily,” Steve confirms as he continues to search your purse.

“Please, I dont’-- you can’t do this! It’s wrong. It’s bad! You can’t. I have to get home. I have to do my chores!” you rock and rub your hands together, “you have to take me home so I can–”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky hisses, “would you give it up.”

“No, no, no,” you harrumph, “you don’t understand. I have to. I have to!”

“Steve,” Bucky grumbles.

“Listen, sweetheart,” Steve lets your purse rest in his lap as he twists around to look at you, “what you need to do is sit back and buckle up, okay? If you don’t, you will get hurt and that’s not what we want at all. We want to take care of you. Keep you safe–”

“I don’t know you, I don’t know you!” you chant, “let me out!”

You push yourself across the seat and try to open the door. You pick at the lock but it doesn’t pop up so you hit the window, the impact reverberating in your hand meanly as you gasp. You know that the tint conceals you from those outside.

The sudden blare of the radio startles you as the car hurls forward and you fall back, your voice smothered beneath the heavy drumming.

“We can do it however you want to, doll,” Bucky growls as you keep yourself from rolling onto the floor, “so let’s do it the hard way.”

A black screen rises between the front and back of the car, blocking you in completely as similar barriers expand over the interior of the side and rear windows.

Your heart clenches as you struggle up to your knees and hit the barrier, the collision muffled and futile. You hear only the racket of the hectic rock coming from the speakers.

“No, no, no,” you claw desperately as panic floods your body, “no!” you slap the black screen, “please, please, please, this can’t be happening.” You beg as tears well in your eyes, “take me home, take me home, please.”

You fall back as you start to hyperventilate, hugging yourself as you sway and babble. Don’t talk to strangers. You always stuck to that so why this time? Why are you so stupid?

🌲

You’re exhausted from thrashing and lashing. You lay across the suede seat and stare at the ceiling of the car. The tires continue to roll on as the car whisks through the air tunnel. You don’t know where you are or how far you’ve gone but you know you’re in trouble.

You don’t understand. Steve Rogers is supposed to be a hero so why is he helping this creep take you away? Maybe they really are trying to help you. Maybe they really do want to take care of you.

You have your issues but you aren’t that deluded. If they think this is normal then they are even worse off than you.

The horror starts to mount again. The more you think, the more dire it is. You sit up and pull on the handle, three times. Nothing. You snap your fingers, three times, and get up to try to see through any of the black screens.

As you press your face to the front one, a thump from the other side frightens you. You recoil and grasp your throat nervously. The music dies and the speaker clicks subtly.

“I told you to buckle up,” Bucky’s voice comes through the stereo, “we’re going pretty fast, doll, you want to strap yourself in.”

You frown, hands shaking as you look down at your lap. You wipe your sweat palms on your corduroy pants and sniffle. Oh no, you’re going to cry.

“Doll,” Bucky drawls, “calm down, one thing at a time. You put that belt on and maybe… maybe I’ll roll down the screen, huh?”

You hang your head. The tears spill down your cheeks as you reach for the buckle and pull the belt across your body. You click it into place and mop your face with your sleeves. You’re so weak. Pathetic, just like your father always said.

“Good girl,” Bucky praises and you flinch as suddenly the barrier shifts and slowly descends.

You hide your face and keep your shoulders curled as you try to suck back the tears and snot.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve says, “it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

“I’m not,” you whisper and lift your head, lip trembling, “I’m not crying.”

“Why don’t we stop and get her some tea at the next rest stop?” Steve says as he reaches back to touch your knee, “shh, sweetie, you’re okay.”

You wince but don’t pull away. His hand is so big. It makes you feel even smaller.

“Mmm, she doesn’t need it,” Bucky mutters.

“Look at her, Buck, she’s upset,” Steve runs a nail along the corduroy and reluctantly pulls away, “she’s scared. Sweetie, do you like tea?”

You pout and clasp your hands together, “yes.”

“Alright, so it’s settled, we’ll stop for some tea and snacks? What kind of snacks do you like? Cookies?”

“Mhmm,” you mumble as your throat constricts.

“Like I said, sweetie, we just want to take care of you,” Steve promises, “all you have to do is be good. Can you do that?”

You nod and clamp your lips shut. You lower your face as another wave of tears overwhelms you. You quiver and sniff as you can’t stop the onslaught. Steve gives an ‘aww’ and Bucky sighs.

“Fine, we’ll stop,” Bucky resigns, “just this once.”

🌲

The men leave you in the back seat, closed in by the black barriers. You can't understand it. You scowl. It's not fair. They can't just ruin everything. You have a routine and they are getting in the way of that.

As they come back, you hear them outside the car. The locks click and the handle releases. You unbuckle your seatbelt and brace yourself. They get in the front seat as the screen rolls down.

A swell overcomes you, the type of anger that surges when you put something in the wrong place. When the world decides to be so imperfect.

Bucky holds out the cup of steaming tea. You reach out shakily. One two three. You blink three times. Tap on the lid three times and peel it back. You look at the steeping liquid and count again.

One two three. One two three. One two three. Go!

You fling the hot water at Bucky as he drops the keys into the cupholder. You lunge forward as he cries out and you scramble for the keychain. As you grasp your prize, your face slams into the console under the unbreakable grip on the back of your head.

"Get her back," Bucky snarls as his door opens and he steps out of the car, hissing curses as he tries to shake the moisture from his jacket, "fuck!"

He wipes his face, a scalding red across one side as he winces. Your vision ripples from the impact and you feel your nose swelling already as Steve shoves you back. You hit the suede and groan.

"Now you get nothing," Steve growls and the black screen whirs and slides up.

"Fucking bitch," you hear before it closes completely.

You huff and hold your head daintily, the air seems to move with lines and your ears ring. That was a mistake. Not brave, stupid.

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