#bucky barnes fluff

[notsopersonalcharlie]

My Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader fluff

Bucky is part owner of a mechanic shop and bar, but his girlfriend is the one who rakes in the big bucks, so who's to judge him (his friends) if he's just a little (very) whipped for her.

Notes: Based on this post and this post! In my own personal headcannon readers name is Noelle, which explains the nickname bell(e) lol. There will CERTAINLY be more installments of this story. Gif isn't mine

You muttered under your breath as you pulled your work shoes off your stockinged feet. There were runs at the toes because you were too lazy last night to cut your toenails. Too lazy and distracted by a certain biker coming home. The same biker who was waiting outside, who had kindly turned off the idling engine, but still waited on the sidewalk patiently holding an extra helmet. 

Bucky looked down at his phone. The Howling Commando group chat was blowing up about some sports game and Bucky turned the notifications off before making sure you hadn’t messaged. You hadn’t. He checked your location, you were inside the building in front of him. He checked the texts again and then put his phone in his pocket. Staring at it won’t help, is what you would say. What did you know? Everything, Bucky thought to himself. Sam would have laughed in his face if he could hear the inner monologue.

“See ya monday!” Your team's receptionist called. 

“Not a moment sooner!” You quipped back over your shoulder as you pushed open the glass double doors. All six feet and a bit of your biker were waiting on the sidewalk, tattoos peeking out at the neck and along the wrists speaking of one of your favorite features of his.

“Hi Buck!” He looked up and a grin split his usually stoic face. 

“There’s my girl.” Two long strides and you were wrapped up in his arms, a warm kiss pressed hard to your lips. Bucky spun you in a circle.

“I missed you, belle.” 

“I missed you too, Buck.” Anyone would have thought you hadn’t seen each other in days, but Bucky had stopped by only a few hours before to drop off your lunch.

“You’re not getting on the bike like that, honey.” You rolled your eyes, setting down your bags. 

“I know, I forgot to grab my overpants this morning. Do you have extras?” Of course he did, you knew that, but it was the sweet pout and big eyes just for him. You knew he loved to take care of you, so if you “forgot” the pants, maybe it was just because he liked to know he was always prepared. 

“Of course I do.” He waited as you slid the cargo looking pants up over your work bottoms. He stored your bags away as you did, and then sat down on the bike, making sure your helmet, the black one with muted flowers sprouting along the edges that he bought especially for you, was secure on your head.

You slid onto the bike behind Bucky, taking a deep breath of the mechanics grease and sweat smell that always seemed to live on his biking jacket, before snapping your visor shut. Bucky couldn’t help the way his heart leapt a little like always when you wrapped his arms around his middle and rested the chin of your helmet against the middle of his back. Two squeezes to check that you was ready or okay, two back to tell him you was good to go. Three squeezes to say I love you, four back to say I love you too. 

Bucky started the bike and took off back toward the little house they shared just two blocks down from the Howling Commando. You watched the scenery passively, relying on Bucky’s expert riding to get you home safe. You was so glad it was the weekend. Work had been busy, all week you had found yourself calling Bucky, letting him know that you had to stay late, that you would call a rideshare home so he didn’t have to come. Of course every night by the time you were ready to go, Bucky was sitting outside, leaning against his bike. The only day he wasn’t, it was because he had to drive a few towns over that afternoon to pick up a special part for your car.

Instead Steve had been waiting with his own motorcycle, grinning ear to ear as he recited precisely the text Bucky had sent to make sure you was dressed properly and your helmet was on correctly. 

“You know he has never, since childhood, through the service, after, never once, acting like this with a girl.” You just rolled your eyes, followed the instructions as you always did, and sat on the back of Steve’s bike and let him drop you off right in front of the white picket fence Bucky had insisted he would build when you first moved in. 

“You there, belle?” You blinked and found that they had already gotten home. 

“Yeah, just... thinking.” You slid off the bike, gravel driveway crunching under your feet. Bucky pulled your helmet off your head and his blue eyes were intent on your expression, his adorable little pout on his lips.

“What’s up?” You took the helmet from his hands, setting it on the bike before pulling his gloves off his fingers and then intertwining your fingers together. 

“I love our life, Buck.”

“I love our life too.” He looked worried, the little crease between his eyebrows so endearing as always. You lifted one hand to rub your thumb to the spot, eliciting a smile from him. 

“That’s all, baby. I want to spend every day of my life with you.” The grin grew, and you found yourself lifted in the air again, and seated back on the bike. His sweet demeanor towards you and his friends made it easy to forget that Bucky was six feet tall and made entirely of muscle, even if he had built up a healthy bit of relationship chub since you started dating. Bucky kissed you, soft in the dying light of the evening. 

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you too, belle.” You stood like that for a long while, till the glow of the sun was barely left in the sky and the automatic yard lights had turned on. 

“What do you want to do tonight?” Bucky asked. Sweet, as always, but it was the same thing you did every night. 

“I can get changed and we can head over to the bar.” And as always, “Only if you want, honey.” 

Bucky put your things away, dirty lunch containers in the dishwasher and bag beside your desk in the living room, while you got dressed. It felt like it was a fresh start to life when you pulled on comfy jeans and one of the well worn and soft shop t-shirts. You grabbed a sweatshirt, and then paused and got another one for Bucky, before heading back into the kitchen where Bucky was looking at his phone. 

“Howling Commando, huh?” Bucky joked. You nodded with a grin, tossing him one of his gray Army sweatshirts. 

“Only if you'll let me be one."

"You're already an honorary member," Bucky responded, pressing a kiss to your temple. You walked down the road less than a half mile hand in hand. The bar must have been getting busy on a Friday night, because you hadn’t even made it within view before you could hear the rowdy sounds of your friends and regulars. The front patio was full of folks, some spilling over into the front driveway of the shop. 

“Oh! Can I check on my baby?” You asked, popping up on your toes to try to look into the tinted glass of the garage doors. 

“I thought I was your baby!” 

“She was my baby first,” you shot back, already heading for the side door between the bar and shop. Bucky tossed the keys to you. 

“Do you want your usual?” He was already headed toward the front door of the bar. 

“Mmm, how about whatever cocktail special Sam is whipping up today?” He nodded and you unlocked the door, pushing into the dark mechanics shop. The side door led right into the garage, as opposed to the neat front office, or at least Yelena liked to keep it neat, and you fumbled in the dark momentarily to find the lights. They were slow to warm up, but you started toward where your car had been sitting for a few weeks, inoperable while Bucky painstakingly replaced every piece of the engine to make sure it was as safe as possible for his girl. 

Bucky walked in the front of the bar after saying hello to a handful of regulars and service buddies who still stopped by. Steve was leaning against the front of the bar, and clapped him on the back when he sidled up beside him. 

“Where’s your better half?” 

“Checking on her baby,” Bucky waved for Sam’s attention, “Where’s Nat?” 

“Trying to get her to take a break.” Yelena scoffed from where she was sitting on a stool on the other side of Steve. 

“As if you could ever make her do that.” 

“I said trying to,” Steve shot back as Sam walked over. 

“Where’s your belle?” Bucky scowled at his friend. 

“Wants whatever cocktail concoction you’re making. I’ll take the usual.” 

The custom painted powder blue vintage Mini Cooper was more assembled than it had been when you checked in on it a few days ago, and as you got closer you could see that it was almost done, a few pieces were still sitting on Bucky’s workbench. 

A slightly Russian accented call of your name identified it as one of the two Romanoff sisters, one who ran the front of the shop and the other the front of the bar. 

“Yeah, I’m back here.” 

“I figured.” Natasha appeared from the other side of a Cadillac SUV. 

“She’s almost done!” You grinned. 

“I heard. The guys put me on break and when I was refusing, Bucky said I should come make sure you didn’t linger too long.” You laughed. 

“He hates when I mess with his work.”

“Then maybe you should come let him mess with your make up,” Natasha suggested. 

“Are you flirting with me for Bucky?” you asked incredulously. The redhead laughed as you followed her out the side door, locking it behind you before going into the bar from the front. Multiple of the regulars called out your names, offering waves and grins, and the cacophony doubled inside. 

“Finally! The better one! I have your drink right here!” Sam called. You smiled, taking the drink. 

“Thank you, kind sir.” The bar was reaching capacity, pool tables in the back already in full swing. The waiters were a constant blur, Howling Commando Bar shirts identifiable in the bustle from the star logo in white. 

“Buck said you had a long week at work,” Nat said, returning to her spot at the front of the bar waiting to intercept underaged looking patrons. 

“It was a busy one. We’re tr- Actually, you don’t really care and I don’t really want to talk about it. Where is Bucky?” You responded good naturedly, trying to spot the brunet in the crowd. 

“I think I can see Steve’s blond ass over there,” Sam said, pointing further into the bar. You took your drink and headed toward the general direction. Steve and Bucky were in the corner near the office, heads together. 

“Hey Steve!” Both men looked up, eyes wide, at your appearance, and quickly took half steps apart. 

“Not at all suspicious guys. Good thing you were special forces.” Steve smiled, and Bucky looked a little shy. 

“Buck keeps trying to hustle me in pool,” Steve responded, “I have fallen for that many many too many years in a row. Your turn to carry the burden.” He pushed into the crowd, leaving you beside Bucky. 

“What was that about?” 

“Just business stuff. How is the Sam special?” You eyed him as you took your first sip, pleasantly surprised by the lack of a remarkable burn on the back end of the taste.

“Better than the last one.” Bucky's hulking presence should have been stifling or claustrophobic, but instead it was comforting. You looked up into sincere blue eyes and he leaned down, pressing warm lips to yours. Your hands slipped up around his neck, holding your drink out so the condensation wouldn’t drip down the back of his shirt. Bucky’s arms were strong and warm and one hand palmed your ass before pulling away. Bucky’s hand found its way around your back as you looked across the bar.

“You know, you guys really did something,” you said, “I know I say it all the time. But it's just amazing.” Bucky and Steve had wanted to start something after they left the service and with their penchant for drinking and ability to fix nearly any mechanized vehicle a bar and mechanics shop made the most sense. Three members of their team, Tim Gabe and Percy, had moved on with their lives, even though they stopped by when they rolled through town. Sam, the Romanoff sisters, Tony, and a half dozen more had joined the family since the start, but there were still plaques honoring the fallen Commandos above the bar. 

“All we knew how to do.”

You spent the rest of the night drinking with regulars, Bucky beating them in pool and not taking money from them, and you running drinks and convincing one of the girls at the bar that Sam was actually sweet and coming by again couldn’t hurt. 

“If that’s what kinda wing woman I get when I make a good cocktail, I should really do it more often,” Sam joked when the group of women moved off. Bucky appeared over your shoulder, sliding his pint glass over to his friend who refilled it. 

“What’s that?” 

“Just trying to get Sammy a girlfriend, since he blew his shot with all our friends.” 

The bar was still in full swing when Bucky and you said your goodbyes, and if Bucky picked you up and carried you over his shoulder fireman style while you giggled the whole way home so they could get back a little faster, that was between the two of you.

Wonder what Bucky and Steve were talking about... Find out next time!

[lives-in-midgard]

Sneaking Away

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: The Avengers and you were invited to a musical, when it gets boring you and Bucky sneak away.

Word Count: 840

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Being an Avenger not only means going on missions, training, holding meetings and doing paperwork but also with being invited to different types of events. Today you were all invited to a new musical on the Broadway. Some of you were more excited than others and some of you would rather do something else. You were excited to go, especially since you’ve never been to the Broadway before.

After putting on your favorite dress and some matching shoes, you grabbed your bag and left your room. At the same moment, the door opposite your room opened. It’s Bucky’s room and wow, he looked absolutely stunning and immediately started to smile when he saw you.

“Hey, doll. You look really beautiful.” He said, making you blush. You and Bucky have been friends for a long time, but you still always get butterflies when he calls you “doll”, maybe that’s also because of your crush on him.

“Thank you, Buck. You look great too.”

“Thanks, doll.” You smiled at each other and then went into the living room where the tickets for the musical were handed out. As you walked into the living room you saw that the others were already there, and Tony started giving everyone their tickets. After he gave you yours and then Bucky his, you looked over at him and saw that you will be sitting next to Bucky in the theatre.

“Where are you sitting?” Bucky asked and you showed him your ticket with a smile.

“Next to you.” You said and Bucky immediately started smiling.

“I’m glad.” He mumbled.

“Me too.” You said because you knew that he gets nervous when you are at an event and that he feels more comfortable when you are with him.

After a while you all got into the cars and drove there. Steve drove while you and Bucky sat in the back. When you arrived, the others were already inside and waited for you. After a few photographers took pictures of you and the Avengers, you all went to your seats. You sat down next to Bucky and smiled at him. A few seconds later Wanda was sitting to your left. You talked with her until it was announced that the musical would start soon. You looked at Bucky and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

The musical started and it was interesting but after a while it got boring and when you looked over at Bucky you noticed that he was playing with his hands and not paying attention to the musical anymore. You reached for his hand and gently placed your hand on his. He looked at you and tried to smile. When you looked at the stage and then back at Bucky, an idea occurred to you.

You smiled and then moved over to Bucky.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” You whispered in his ear.

“Yeah, let’s go.” He said with a smile. You got up from your chair and so did Bucky. He took your hand, and you walked past the others. When you saw Steve sitting there, you walked over to him.

“Hey, Steve can I have the key for the car, please?” You asked and Steve looked at Bucky and then back at you. He nodded, reached for the key in his pocket and handed it to you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome and drive carefully.”

“Of course.” You and Bucky walked out of the venue and to the car. You walked to the driver’s seat and Bucky sat down on the passenger seat.

“Where are we going?” He asked as you started to drive away.

“It’s a surprise.” You said and Bucky chuckled. After a short drive you parked the car in an empty parking lot near the Central Park. You both opened the car door and walked to the park. While walking you saw children playing, heard birds singing and after a while you walked past a lake.

“Let’s sit down here.” Bucky said, pointing to the bench a few steps away. You sat down on the bench and rested your head on Bucky’s shoulder while he put his arm around your shoulder. You looked at the lake and watched the sun go down.

“This is such a beautiful place, doll.”

“Yeah, it is.” You said looking at him and it was like the time stood still. You looked at each other with a smile and suddenly Bucky’s hand was on your cheek, and he pulled you into a kiss. At first it was gentle and then it became more passionate. When you pulled away you smiled at each other.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Bucky confessed.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then how about we do it again?” You asked quietly and Bucky smiled even more now.

“We can do that, doll.” Bucky said and pulled you into another kiss.

And that was the beginning of Bucky’s and your love story. You’re excited to tell the others and experience all the special moments with him.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buckys-wintersoldier | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 |

@mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

where the brook bends

the wistful wyvern, chapter two

a/n: something about fighting giant spiders just feels so quintessential skyrim...

summary: “you are two of my most trusted warriors. If it can’t be me out there, then it should be you two,” his glance then shifted between you both as he noticed the look on your face, “unless, of course, you have any objections.” 

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, slow burn, one-sided pinning, forced proximity, arachnophobia (giant spiders), weapons, violence, bathing in a river

word count: 2243

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“This is the third time in two years that dragon has attacked us,” the king’s jaw clenched, “third time, and we still don’t know how to slay it,” leaned against the central table in the war room, he glanced up to find Bucky’s eyes, “I was planning on going on a mission to gather intel, find its lair, study the beast, but–… things have changed,” on a heavy exhale, he let his eyes momentarily fall shut, “I need to stay here,” he stated slowly, “I can’t risk my life on a quest like this, not now that Cordelia is born… so,” his gaze fluttered back open, “I’m here to ask the two of you to take care of it.”  

Shooting a glance over at Bucky, you hesitantly uttered, “us?” 

You wanted to say no. A mission such as this could take months, and being stuck with Bucky for that long, just the two of you on the road, having to work so closely together, it might break you for good.

But then when Steve’s gaze locked with your own, the declination got stuck in your throat. 

“You are two of my most trusted warriors. If it can’t be me out there, then it should be you two,” his glance then shifted between you both as he noticed the look on your face, “unless, of course, you have any objections.” 

“No, of course not, your majesty,” you swiftly replied, knowing that this plague was so much bigger than your own little feelings, “it would be an honour.” 

“Hi, I’m here to pick up an order, it should be under the name Y/l/n.”

“Ah, yes,” the blacksmith nodded with recognition, “your blades are right over here,” he turned to retrieve them, “it was five new daggers, correct?” he glanced over his shoulder as he gathered the crafted arms in his grasp.

“Oh, six actually,” you slightly raised yourself up onto your toes to catch a glimpse. 

“Right,” he turned his attention back to the table of finished and shiny weapons, “uh–”

But then before the blacksmith could begin to panic, a young apprentice came running over from the forge, “uncle, here!” and handed him the last dagger, “sorry, I was sharpening them and forgot one of them by the grinding stone.” 

“Thank you, Peter,” he then let his expert eye wash over the metal, “ah, you’re getting better!” a bright grin crept up on the lad's face, “excellent work, my boy,” the blacksmith then walked back to where you waited and slid the cloth-bound blades over the soot-stained counter, “here you are, miss.”

“How much do I owe you?” you opened up your coin purse and began to flick through the change. 

“Oh, no,” his hands raised up before him, “no charge,” a gentle shake tipped his head, “that’s already been taken care of by his royal majesty himself.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “received a letter yesterday morning for anything that you, or your other warden friend out there, might need, to put it on his tab.” 

“Alright, then,” a grateful chuckle bubbled out of you, “thank you.” 

And as you headed back out of the open smithy onto the quaint streets of Borün, the proprietor cheerily called after you, “have a good day!”

“You too!” you glanced back over your shoulder and offered the two figures a small wave. 

Nestled in a t-intersection, the heat of blacksmith swiftly got soothed by the breeze from the docks that bloomed only a few storefronts down to the left. The melody of gentle waves crashing against the harbour sloshed directly into your soul. One seagull had even dared to bravely wander past you into the town square that unfolded in the opposite direction. Casting a brief glance down there, by the bistro on the corner, you saw an energetic child spring and flee from the rest of their family, as they sat around one of the cosy outdoor seating options and enjoyed a quiet lunch, to favour a sprint around the vast tree that stood rooted in the centre of the square. 

“Did you get what you needed?” Bucky asked as you exited the shop, his grasp clutched tight around the reins of both Echo, his own horse that had a shiny black coat, as well as Zenna, the brown spotted mare you’d ridden for years. 

“Yep,” you tugged the newly acquired weapons into one of the saddlebags strapped to your horse, “you ready to go or do you have any last-minute errands before we head out?”

“Nope, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he exhaled as you slid up onto Zenna, “let’s head out.”

“So, the dragon always escaped out west,” Bucky spoke, shooting a glance in your direction as you rode beside him, “every time, it was that direction.” 

“Hm…” you searched your inner map, your vision dancing betwixt the trees you passed as you cut through the south-eastern corner of The Noll Woods, “could it be dwelling out by Anng?”

“Maybe…” he cocked his head, “there are a lot of small islands all along that part of the coast, maybe it could have claimed one of them?”

“Possibly…” one of your brows then tilted up as a theory struck you, “or perhaps it’s even closer than that,” your neck twisted and you met his eye, “The Asadånie Mountains.”

“That certainly is a possibility,” his gaze averted as he thought on it, “I mean, the mountain range is immensely vast and dangerous by design. I don’t even think it’s ever been properly represented on a map yet with how few venture up there.” 

A noise then suddenly found your ear. A shrill clicking call from somewhere within the forest. 

“Shh, shut up,” you swiftly snapped as you pulled on the reins to stop your horse. 

Not hearing your hushed tone, Bucky kept on rambling, “it’s perfectly tucked away and secluded for a creature such as a dragon.”

“Barnes, I mean it, shut up,” you raised your voice sternly as your eyes raked the overgrown area around you. 

“What?” he finally stopped as well a few paces ahead of you, “what is it?” 

Sliding off of Zenna, you carefully looked around, listening intently for the sound that had chilled your bones. 

You should have looked up, because if you had, then you would have maybe spotted the giant spiders lurking before they dropped down from their vast webs spun throughout the treetops above. 

When one pounced on you, its curled fangs gnashing for a bite of your flesh, Bucky jumped off of Echo, though didn’t reach you before two skittered out to get him.

Drawing a dagger in each of your grasps, you then sank both of them into the spider’s dark and clustered eyes, twisting them clockwise before it sank to the forest floor below. 

As you yanked them back out, a spray of ickier trailed your blades, even as you turned to throw one of them into the bigger of the creatures advancing on your comrade, your aim slaying it instantaneously, the viscus scattered against the side of your face at the toss. 

But then a fourth one came from out of nowhere and pinned you down in the dirt. With the weapon still in your palm, your reach was too limited to strike it anywhere vital, though you still dealt a few blows where you could. Pierce it open above you, slimy viscera spilt out and showered your struggling form. 

On your next attack, the hilt of your blade managed to get stuck in the tough hide of the monster, and with the spider guts that slicked up not only your grasp, you began to fear you wouldn’t be able to pry it back out. 

But just before your hands slipped, as you tried to push it off of you and not render you its dinner, the spider suddenly went limp above you and you glanced up to see a thick bolt splitting its skull.

“Hey,” you snapped as you scrambled up onto your feet, “I had that one!”

Swinging his crossbow back over his shoulder, Bucky simply smirked, “sure, you did,” and bent down to pick up the dagger you tossed to save him, briefly flipping it playfully in his palm before he glanced up and threw it. For a split second, your eyes went wide, but then the short blade flew past your ear, and as your neck twisted to follow it, you watched as it logged itself into a younger spider you hadn’t noticed till now. 

As the horses grazed and drank from the nearby stream, you unfastened your own bedroll from the back of Zenna. 

When it was nestled under your arm, you offered the horse a gentle pat before turning back to the makeshift camp for the night. Sparks finally began to dance from Bucky’s efforts and the pile of twigs he had gathered was set aflame. 

Once your bedroll was unfurled on the mossy ground, you quietly sat atop of it, chewing on some dry rations you’d found in the bottom of your satchel and stared at the sun as it slowly sank into the horizon. As your vision danced between soft pink clouds in the lavender sky, your gaze suddenly grew wide as Bucky stood up from his side of the fire and began to shed his clothes. 

“What are you doing?” you asked as he peeled off the partial chainmail he wore and swiftly the dark blue tunic beneath, revealing his bare back to you before he cast a glance over his shoulder.

“Going for a dip. What does it look like I’m doing?” not slowing down at your alarm, he fiddled with his belt and stepped closer to the riverbank, “you know, you could use one as well,” he playfully added before stripping off the last of his clothing, “you reek of spider guts, my friend,” your gaze instantly fled up towards the sky before you could see more than just his backside. 

At the splash of his jumping into the water, you subtly sniffed yourself before reluctantly uttering, “alright, fine,” and you pushed yourself up to your feet. After gathering a clean shirt as well as a wide rag to dry yourself off with from your supplies, you piped up again, “but you stay up here, I’ll go find somewhere more private further down.”

“Ah, come on, snow, you don’t have to do that!” he argued as you began to wander away, “what do you want me to turn around? Promise not to sneak a peek at your goods?” 

But you just kept up your stride and called over your shoulder, “enjoy your bath, Barnes!”

The stream luckily curved slightly a ways further down. Not a lot, but enough to grant you enough assurance to give it a go. After you’d peeled off your layers of clothing and the pieces of leather armour that protected your frame, you slowly dipped a toe into the cool water. 

The blushing skies slowly melted into black as you bathed in the river. When you took a moment to rinse out the ivory tunic you’d worn, your gaze flickered down the stream to spot Bucky as he splashed water up onto the part of him not submerged. As droplets danced down his skin, you nearly stopped breathing entirely as you followed their trail down to what the water obscured. 

But then, like snapping awake from a dream, the dizzying sensation gave away to the depressing reality. 

Once you’d scrubbed and cleaned yourself the best that you could, the stars above began to twinkle as you patted your skin dry and shrugged on the acquired clean shirt, a burgundy one, as well as the rest of your attire. 

When you found your way back towards the camp, Bucky was already sitting by the fire, dressed and with his hair still dripping gently and turning the shoulders of his navy tunic nearly as dark as the night sky. 

After you’d hung your wet shirt over a nearby branch, without sharing another word with the other warden you travelled with, you laid down on your bedroll and closed your eyes. 

But before too long, Bucky’s low timbre found your ears over the crackling of the fire.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?”

“Uh, I’m trying to fall asleep,” you sighed loudly, “just as you should.” 

“No, I mean what’s going on?” he persisted, “are you mad at me or something?” 

Your eyes then blinked open to stare up at the stares, “why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know, yet you’ve given me the cold shoulder ever since you came back from Efira,” he then asked, “did something happen there?”

“Other than comb through tombs with a boring ass lord,” you huffed, “no, nothing happened.” 

“Then what’s wrong?” he demanded. 

The muscles in your jaw clenched tightly before you uttered, “nothing’s wrong.” 

“Did I do something to piss you off?” he kept pushing, “because if so, I’m sorry.”

Your muscles flexed as you forcefully raised yourself up on onto an elbow and twisted to shoot him a glare, “look, we are here on an important mission. We don’t have to be all buddy-buddy and reminisce about old times in order to get the job done, alright?”

Dark brows tightly knitted together, he stared back at you before eventually huffing, “fine.”

“Great,” you then heatedly flopped back down and tensely turned your back to him, “goodnight.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 13

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

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“You look just like Ophelia.” The way he said it sounded like he was missing the past. Then it clicked for you immediately: Patrick was your mom's ex-boyfriend.

Bucky, tinged with curiosity and something else, asked, “So you're that Patrick that Cassandra mentioned?”

You were flabbergasted, your mouth hanging open in surprise. Realizing that the person in front of you was your mother's ex-lover and the Patrick, your grandma often mentioned was overwhelming. It meant Patrick was deeply engraved in her mind.

Patrick smiled warmly at the familiar name. “Nana Cassie? How is she?”

You responded, “She's fine, but she has dementia.”

The word 'dementia' erased the smile from Patrick's face. He put his hand on his lips, murmuring, “A lot has changed since I left.”

Then, realizing his lapse in manners, he looked at everyone. “How rude of me. Please, sit down.”

“I can't help but ask, did you want to meet me because I'm Ophelia's daughter?” you inquired.

Patrick nodded, his eyes reflecting a deep sadness. “I swore I would never come back to this country. But when I saw the new leader of Velari, and you looked so much like her… I had to.”

You sensed the agony and darkness in his voice every time he mentioned your mom. It was more than you'd ever seen in your father, that jerk. Even at Ophelia's funeral, he hadn’t shed a single tear.

“Seems like you miss her,” you said softly.

“I do. All the time,” Patrick replied, his voice heavy with emotion.

You crossed your arms. “If you loved her, why weren't you with her?”

Patrick looked at you in silence for a moment before taking a sip of the tea provided by the butler. He put down the teacup gently, his fingers tracing the rim.

“Twenty-five years ago, I would have laughed if someone told me I’d be enjoying an expensive tea inside a mansion,” Patrick said, his tone wistful.

You tilted your head, clearly puzzled.

Patrick noticed your confusion and explained, “I was dirt poor. I’m the child of the gardener who used to take care of the flowers at your grandparents' house. Your grandparents were kind enough to let me and my dad stay in the guest house.”

Your eyes widened in surprise at this revelation.

“Your grandfather was strict, a man of action rather than words. Your grandma, Cassie, was an angel. And Ophelia…” Patrick paused, looking out the window, lost in memories.

“She was my first friend, my partner, my soul mate, and the love of my life,” Patrick continued, his voice filled with longing.

He went on to describe how his love story with Ophelia began as a close friendship. They were inseparable, but their love couldn't continue because of their different social statuses.

Your grandfather discovered their relationship and objected fiercely. Being a military man, he didn't hesitate to give Patrick a harsh lesson. Patrick was beaten and kicked out of the house, his body weak and bruised—a clear warning for Ophelia to end the relationship.

Around the same time, the Sinclairs proposed an engagement that would benefit the family business, further complicating things.

Patrick’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as he recounted the painful past. You could feel the depth of his sorrow and the love he still harbored for your mother.

When Ophelia and Jonathan first met, it was a meeting between two vastly different people. Jonathan was cold and reserved, a man of few words. Ophelia, on the other hand, was sweet and timid, unable to say no to her father’s demands. Cassandra, Ophelia’s mother, knew the marriage would be colder than Antarctica, but she couldn’t speak against her husband; his word was absolute.

To cope with the situation, Cassandra began designing clothes and eventually started the fashion line, Velari. She and Ophelia found solace in creating garments, and the small tailor shop they opened became their sanctuary.

Ophelia and Jonathan got married and started a family after you were born. Your existence brought light to Ophelia's life. But one day, Patrick reappeared, determined to rescue Ophelia from her loveless marriage. When your grandfather and Jonathan discovered Patrick’s intentions, they responded violently, nearly killing him.

This incident shattered the already fragile relationship between Ophelia and Jonathan. The marriage became irreparably broken, but Ophelia managed to endure it, thanks to you, Cassandra, and Velari. However, the ultimate betrayal came when she discovered Jonathan’s affair with his secretary, Genevieve, and learned he had a daughter three years younger than you.

This heartbreak, disappointment, and regret devastated Ophelia. She had sacrificed her love for Patrick for a marriage that gave her nothing but pain. If she had fought harder, she could have been with the man who truly loved her.

Ophelia’s death crushed Cassandra with guilt. She blamed herself for not saving her daughter. If she had stood up to her husband and been content with their life, Ophelia might still be alive, happily married to Patrick, who would have been a loving husband and father.

Your grandfather, burdened by his daughter’s death and his wife’s subsequent loss of joy, began to blame himself. The ultimate betrayal came when he discovered that the Sinclairs, his in-laws, had tried to sabotage his business. Jonathan’s actions cost Ophelia her life and nearly destroyed the family business, leading to your grandfather’s heart attack and leaving this world.

After being beaten, Patrick started from the bottom, working tirelessly to earn money. When he finally succeeded, he was devastated to learn that Ophelia had passed away. With nothing left for him in the country, he left for Europe, where he met Rowan Barnes at a business conference, and the two became friends.

When Rowan mentioned that Bucky was getting engaged to the daughter of Sinclair, Patrick immediately warned him not to fully trust them. Recently, Rowan told him that Bucky had canceled the engagement and had become close to another daughter of Sinclair.

Patrick sighed and asked, “What’s the difference between this one and the other?”

Rowan replied, “This is the legitimate daughter who was kicked out by Jonathan.”

The word ‘kicked out’ resonated with Patrick, who had been expelled many times in his youth. He wondered if this first daughter could be Ophelia’s child. But why didn’t she live with her father?

He had so many questions and started asking around. What he discovered broke him and made his blood boil. Though he shared no blood with you, he knew you were Ophelia’s treasure. She had always wanted a daughter.

Patrick looked at you with sorrow and warmth, wondering if he and Ophelia had run away together and married, would they have had a daughter who looked like you?

“I arrived too late. But if you let me, I’ll be the biggest support you could ever ask for,” Patrick said, his voice filled with earnestness.

When he said that, Rowan raised an eyebrow, wondering if you knew who Patrick was. He was one of the most sought-after clients in the investment world, with assets that made investment managers fight to have him as a client.

Patrick’s face lit up when he heard your gratitude. “Thank you.”

You offered, “Do you want to see my grandma? I’m sure she will be happy to meet you.”

Patrick’s eyes softened, and a nostalgic smile spread across his face. “That would be great. I miss her.”

The room was filled with a mixture of relief and anticipation as Patrick’s offer hung in the air, a promise of support and a connection to the past.

Bucky, who had been standing quietly beside you, felt a surge of protectiveness. He didn’t like how Patrick looked at you for too long, feeling jealous. He took your hand in his, his grip firm but gentle, as if to remind Patrick that you weren’t alone.

Patrick noticed this and chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with understanding. “It seems you have a good protector here,” he said, nodding toward Bucky.

You squeezed Bucky’s hand, grateful for his presence. “Yes, I do.”

☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️

After the meeting with Patrick, you learned so many things about your mother that you had never heard from your father. It seemed like she didn’t exist in his mind anymore.

When you got home, you felt like your life had become so much better after meeting Bucky, even though you hadn’t been polite toward him initially. Life works in mysterious ways.

‘Ring.’

You saw the caller ID and rolled your eyes when you realized it was Jonathan.

“What?” you snapped.

“Is this how you address your dad?” Jonathan's voice dripped with disapproval.

You gritted your teeth. The audacity of this man who neglected you and still wanted you to address him politely. “Your majesty, what honor do I have to receive a call from heaven?” you retorted sarcastically.

You could hear his voice grumble on the other end. “I heard you met someone today.”

He meant that someone must be Patrick. “I met so many people today. I also almost got kidnapped. Did you know that?” you shot back, your voice tinged with annoyance.

“Kidnapped? I guess you’re safe because you can answer your phone,” Jonathan replied dismissively.

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and anger. “What do you want? I have to bury my abductor in the backyard.”

“Stay away from him,” Jonathan ordered.

You flinched. Why did he say that? Then it clicked. Was your father jealous?

“He’s a great person. I understand why my mother loved him so much,” you said, pushing his buttons.

Your tease hit the mark. “I’m your father. Not him! Remember that!” Jonathan's voice was filled with fury.

The call ended abruptly. You stared at your phone, shaking your head. Sometimes you wondered if you and he were really related.

The apple does fall far from the tree, you thought. Especially with you and Jonathan.

That's what people would think. If one day they heard that you weren’t Jonathan’s natural daughter, they would believe it.

But no. Even if you wished Jonathan wasn’t your father, DNA said otherwise. He was your father. It was the hardest pill you had to swallow every day.

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[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ BODYGUARD. ( bucky b. )

mentions about you being the politician's daughter but not into that much details for plot reasons, fem! reader, bodyguard! bucky, worried bucky, basically he cares about you but tries not to show it much.

tagging : @xxladyballadxx || dividers by @/steddiecameraroll-graphics !!

Due to the life-threatening attempted attack that happened on public recently-- to which their main target is you, from the bits of investigation being done so far, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, or simply goes by the name Bucky, has been personally assigned to assist and guard you wherever you had to go.

At first, you weren't too thrilled with the idea of someone following you around almost 24/7, but there's no other plausible choice. Your safety is potentially at risk, and you had to accept the offer, seeing your position as the politician's daughter as well.

Bucky used to have a pretty bad impression about you-- thinking that you might be like one of those snobby, arrogant type of person due to your fairly high position to many. But over time, he finds that you're actually nicer than you seemed, though may appear as the opposite at times due to the constant stressful reminder from the previous events.

You didn't follow your father's footsteps into becoming a politician though, preferring to be a normal office worker instead for some understandable reasons.

"All done?" Bucky stands up straight from leaning against the wall nearby, shifting his gaze from the floor and towards you, who just exited the office. A weary with a mixture of an unreadable expression is present upon your features.

Instead of responding with a witty remark or anything similar to it, you merely nodded your head without sparing him too much of a glance; just walking pass him as he follows suit behind.

You weren't really in the mood to talk, it seems. He takes an immediate note of that.

"You good, doll?" The nickname slips through his lips without any second thoughts, any hints of the usual sarcasm within his tone is basically nonexistent. Bucky's expression softens ever so slightly as he lets his gaze remained upon you; to which it goes unnoticed by you.

You simply shrugged wordlessly, not having the energy to tell him anything just yet as your shoulders slumped tiredly, now feeling his presence just near you from the back.

The temporary silence lingers in the air for a few more moments as the two of you got into the elevator; his eyes still silently observing you while mentally contemplating on what to say next.

"Did anything happen at work?"

Your body posture goes tense for a bit, finally exiting the elevator together after several minutes within there. It might be hard for him to admit it, but to see you in a state like this-- he doesn't like it. It actually worries him if anything, trying his hardest on not to show any ounce of it upon his face.

Thankfully, the whole walk doesn't take too long, knowing that your home is just within the same building; transferred not too long ago for safety purposes.

"Yeah." You ultimately gave out an answer, albeit your voice sounded quite strained in a way, nodding at him.

Bucky helps by unlocking the front door using the spare key that was given to him back then-- allowing you to enter first before following after you, locking the door back afterwards.

"Well," he started while crossing his arms, staring at you expectantly. "What happened?"

"Oh well, you know.." You sighed a bit, resting your back against the wall momentarily.

"Some people put out their anger at me and it's probably because of my father."

Bucky clenches his jaw upon hearing your statement, feeling the sudden annoyance to course through his being, but still tried his best to keep everything under control. People surely can be rude at the wrong people sometimes, but hearing that you had to experience it firsthand makes him pissed deep inside.

Without even realizing, he took several steps forward to you-- but still keeping a reasonable distance in case if you got uncomfortable or anything.

"They gave you a hard time, huh?"

You shrugged, now unconsciously walking further away from him toward another direction within the living room. "Like, it's not my fault. I'm not the one who decides those political stuff."

"I know I shouldn't be so sensitive over this issue, but today seemed too much for me to handle anymore.."

His expression shifted to one of apprehension, knowing that whatever inner emotions he's feeling right now is not going to help. After a quick ponder over the matter and choosing his words carefully, Bucky's eyes landed properly upon your figure once again.

"Whatever they've said to you-- it's all bullshit, I know it. It's not your fault at all, doll, and you're not being sensitive, trust me." He's never really good with words of reassurance or something akin to it, but he's trying his best for you, and as your bodyguard.

"Are you able to catch on what they're saying?"

"I don't know, honestly."

"I didn't really pay attention to any of the words they're saying." From your tone usage alone, he could tell that you didn't want to talk about it anymore; wanting to drop the subject so badly, so he stops from asking further.

Instead, he chose to place one of his hands on your shoulder when he drew closer to you, much to your utter surprise.

"You did well. You don't have to listen to them. They're just plain dumbasses for taking it out on you."

"It's never your fault, doll."

You let each of his words rang through your mind; nodding at him with a small grin plastered upon your lips. "I'll try to keep ignoring them, then."

"I might need a break for the week, though."

Your voice lowered as you finally have the courage to tell him more, despite it being a pretty hard decision to make. You just didn't want to face them for the time being.

Bucky returned your nod understandingly-- giving your shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze. "If that helps you, doll, then you should just do it."

"Even just for a week; you deserve a nice break for now. Away from all those things that made you stressed, if that's how you call it." You agreed along with his words, no trace of hesitation present.

For the first time in a few moments ever, the two of you have your gazes locked with each other; all while mentally debating on what to even say next. While still losing yourself within his eyes alone, he gradually removed his hand away from your shoulder-- clearing his throat a tad bit awkwardly, and you averted your gaze away instantly in pure embarrassment, deciding to shower as an attempt to clear your scrambled mind.

Bucky stood there alone as he simply watches your retreating figure; his mind is a total jumbled mess at this point.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| You're A Weapon; And Weapons Don't Weep ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After Bucky discovers that your once thought to be dead older brother is HYDRA's new super soldier, you're chosen to go on a mission with the team.

Warnings: **PLEASE READ** This fic contains death. If the idea of unaliving someone can possibly trigger you, please do NOT read this. Anxiety attack, cursing, angst, random sprinkles of fluff, use of y/n.

Word Count: 4.7

A/Ns: It has been way too long, but I finally got to write for my BBWWS again. I have a feeling there won't be too many chapters left for Bucky and his Sunshine. But I have been working on other ideas and another series is in the process. I hope you enjoy reading. I love you all! The messages, comments, reblogs, likes, etc. literally give me life and inspired me to come back and get into writing all over again. Enjoy your weekend, besties!!

Previous Part // Masterlist

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Any shred of hope that life would be returning back to normalcy remotely anytime soon got washed away by the tidal wave that was the news of your brother being the new super soldier for Hydra.

Tony and Steve called for intel meetings that basically became a fulltime job. At first it felt like an interrogation. They questioned you, curious as to why you would apply for an internship at The Compound. While the circumstances did seem suspicious, they eventually were able to rule out any foul play on your part.

The gatherings soon turned into wanting to know every intricate detail that they wouldn't be able to look up or hack out of any system. From dawn to dusk, the two men asked about your childhood together- trying to connect the pieces as to who Luke is, or was. Bucky stayed silently by your side the entire time and offered a stabilizing hand when things got overwhelming to discuss. But it also didn't slip by you that he focused on each and every detail, noting the intel for this mission.

After being able to specify things so minute; such as your brothers favorite books, favorite teacher from grade school, or the fact that he likes the color green- but not just any green, Sacramento green, because it reminded him of the vines that grew around the windows of your grandparents cottage that you would spend the majority of your summer's at as kids, you also got chosen to go on this mission. There was some minor pushback from the team, but ultimately Bucky took responsibility for you. You knew that he would keep you safe, even if it meant putting the part of his very soul that he felt remained on the line for you.

To say that the training was brutal would be an understatement. While the others had an entire lifetime to perfect their craft and years working alongside one another in unity, you had only a matter of weeks. You were thrown into a constant rotation of being educated on the newest technologies developed by Tony, boxing and going over endless tactical strategies with Steve, knowledge of weaponry with a hint of ballet to stay light on your feet with Nat... pure exhaustion wouldn't begin to describe it.

The day came when intel showed the Swiss Alps would be first on the mission log. Everyone was treating it like just any other, but the dreaded encounter was weighing down heavily deep within your stomach. The thought of using yourself as bait to lure out your brother spiraled into the millions of anxious outcomes that kept you up at night. Finally giving you just the smallest glimpse into Bucky's world. The doorway was creaked open to his nightmares.

"Wooow. You look like a Bad. Ass." Sam annunciates amusingly, as his eyes land on you walking up the small rear cargo ramp of the jet.

Your cheeks instantly blush, having already been self-conscious about the skintight, black Kevlar suit Nat gave you to wear. As more footsteps approach, you sink more into your seat and try to avoid any more eye contact.

"Just so you know, I heard that." Bucky's voice rebounds off of the metal walls before he even makes his way completely into the jet. "Don't try and make passes at my girl when I'm not aro-"

You don't need to look up to know that those steel blue eyes have frozen you into place, but you dare a glance. He's dressed in all black; Black boots, black tactical pants, a black leather jacket with the left sleeve torn off- showing his gunmetal and gold Vibranium arm, and a black glove on his right hand. The sight of him is intimidating, ready for combat and anything to be thrown his way. But those eyes. They hold a tenderness meant only for you. His magnetizing stare mixed with the wonderment expression on his face confirms his friends words and more. Okay, so maybe the suit isn't so bad.

"You're gawking." Sam is now at Bucky's side, smirking with his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

Bucky's face slides back into its usual consternation state before giving him a side glare. "Shut up." Sam shakes his head, laughing to himself lightly before making his way to the front of the jet.

You move to sit upright as he approaches, and Bucky's face finally softens. It always does when it's just the two of you. He reaches above where you're sitting to an overhead rack, casually leaning. Hovering like one of those seductive book boyfriends you'd swoon over, but for him it just comes naturally. Swallowing hard, you angle your head up to look at him. You find a slightly playful grin tugging at his lips and you crack a faint smile.

"You doing okay, Sunshine?" His voice is soft but concerned. A gloved thumb caresses down your cheek. The doting gesture entrances you to gently nuzzle into his palm.

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

He reflects on this a moment, his eyes searching yours. But he looks slightly blurry. The background noise is starting to become overwhelming. Numerous voices all start to overlap, the jet engines growing louder as they're warming up, the loud bang with each shipment container with weapons being loaded on board- weapons intended for my brother. It all combines into one long dragged-out, high-pitched ringing sound and your throat closing in on itself. Bucky senses this, notices and quickly acts. Wide eyed, he drops to his knees.

"Hey... Hey, y/n. It's okay." He quickly unfastens the harness from your seat. "Deep breaths." You can't help but notice how calm he sounds. "Hey...look at me." Bucky gently cups each side of your face, the intense coolness on the one side being a welcomed shock. Your eyes meet his, and when they do, all you see is his devotion. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here with you."

"I know you are." You mutter, pressing your forehead to his as you try to manage your breathing to match his.

"We'll find him." He breathes. "I made it out, he can too. I won't let anything happen to you while we’re out there, y/n." The urgency that his tone is trying to convey is heart wrenching.

"I know, Bucky."

"Here-" He pulls away for a moment to take a bag off his back. Unzipping it, he pulls out a water bottle. "Drink some water."

You smile internally at the gesture. As he's unscrewing the cap, you notice a novel in the bag. It's one he borrowed from you when you first met. There's a familiar stinging behind your eyes. What did I do to deserve this man? One who is willing to walk back into his version of hell to pull out someone that I love?

Sipping on the water of course helped, but Bucky tucking you securely into his side for takeoff is what kept the overwhelming anxiety at bay.

“I love you, so much.” You say against his chest, in appreciation. He snorts slightly, pressing a delicate kiss into your hair.

“And I love you, Sunshine.” Bucky adjusts his hips slightly. “Get some rest, we have a long flight.” Intricate fingers brush through your hair, eventually lulling you to sleep in the safe space that is your boyfriend’s lap.

Distant muttering started reeling you back from a dreamless sleep. Instinctively, you reach for Bucky whom you thought you were still sleeping on- only to find he had replaced it with his bag. The disappointment was starting to settle in when you hear his voice:

“I know how this can come across, but she’s strong enough. She’ll be able to handle it, Tony. I’m here, I can-“

“All I’m hearing is I, I, I, me, me, me, Barnes. You, my friend, were an exception. I don’t know if we can go in there and get this guy out alive, and even if we can, who knows what the aftermath is going to look like! For either of them! We’re taking a regular, a nobody off the street and putting a lot of pressure on her to do this. She’s already starting to feel it, that much is obvious. I’ve said from the beginning that this is a huge mistake. I understand your feelings here, from both sides. You want to make sure HYDRA doesn’t continue to pop up like daises and be there for the love of your life. I GET it. But this is a mistake.”

It’s apparent that Stark has walked away with the clinking of his heavy metal footsteps.

“You picked a good one, Buck. I have faith in her too.” There’s a small reassuring pat to coincide with Steve’s voice. “Y/n’s one of us now.”

“Thanks, Steve. I just… I have to save him. For her.” You can hear the exasperation in Bucky’s voice.

While tears sting from multiple emotions behind closed eyes still pretending to sleep, you feel overcome with something you haven’t experienced in this situation yet; determination. A sudden tenacity to prove the doubters that you can do this, that you can help your brother just how Bucky had, and that you wouldn’t bail and have a breakdown… again. No. From this point on, you refuse to let anyone see you as weak.

The bag underneath your head gently shifts and is quickly replaced with warm body heat that you quickly snuggle into. That warmth spreads as Bucky wraps his right arm around your body, pulling you in a little closer. His heart rate starts to slow, and his breathing becomes more regular. You just soak in the last moments before the unknown.

“He’s really going to just jump out the back of the jet like that?!” You try to yell, over the loud wind rumbling and your hair whipping around.

With Sam’s back facing towards you, he takes one absentminded step off of the opened ramp and is just gone. Your stomach drops along with him at the sight.

Bucky rolls his eyes as he hands you an earpiece, “Yep,” A second later, Sam comes back into view, now soaring with his Falcon wings. He gives Bucky a little sarcastic two finger salute and flies out of view. “He’s flashy like that.”

Putting the impossibly small earpiece into your ear, you can’t help but shake your head and laugh. It must be an almost forgotten sound with the weight of everything going on because now Bucky is smiling too.

“Well, I hope you’re not expecting me to jump out of a plane,” you say only half joking. Because if that’s the case, he’s going to have to literally throw you out.

“What did you think the parachutes were for?” Bucky asks deadpan, with a raised eyebrow and pointing to the packs behind him.

All of the color starts to drain from your face, when suddenly you saw the slightest twitch in Bucky’s lip.

“Oh my god. You asshole!” Bucky grabs his stomach and starts to hunch over laughing as you hit him in the arm. His metal arm. “OW!” You start shaking your hand out to wave away the initial sting.

Glancing at him, Bucky is doubled over, nose scrunched, laughing so hard that barely any noise is coming out and tears are welling up in his eyes. It’s contagious, especially as the throb in your hand turns into a dull ache.

I’ve missed this. Things being simple with us and not so draining. Moments that resemble a drop of normalcy in a typical ‘would be’ relationship. But I still wouldn’t trade it. Because he’s perfect. And he’s mine.

Once your lungs don’t feel like they’re on fire any longer, you let you a deep sigh, resting your hands on your hips. “God, I needed that.”

“Did you really think I would toss you out of a Quinjet?”

“Seemed like it in the moment-”

“Alright, love birds,” Tony interrupts, the heavy metal footsteps of his Iron Man armor catching both of your attention, "don't be late to the party," he says knowingly, palms glowing before he too disappears out of the jet.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine,” Bucky says, now standing next to you, “I have my own flashy transport,” he side eyes you with a playful grin.

Arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s stomach; you can’t help but snuggle your cheek into his leather covered shoulder.

Of course, Bucky’s idea of flashy would be a motorcycle.

Your eyes flutter open to see Steve on his own come into view through whips of your hair. The boys. Two best friends riding like they don’t have the weight of the world constantly on their shoulders.

Steve’s bike has a bulky, all chrome classic look while Bucky’s is a modern, all black crotch rocket. Both have been modified to drive relatively quietly, and it’s such a weird dichotomy to still be able to feel the rumbling of the bike between your legs without all the noise.

One of your hands releases the clasp they had on one another, pressing your palm against Bucky’s chest- smoothing itself along his abdomen. Bucky sits more upright in his seat to press back into you more, using only his left hand to steer as his right encloses around yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. The gesture is so minor, and yet you can just feel how he puts his heart into everything when it comes to you.

"We're going to pull off to the side up on the left. We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot," Steve's voice is solemn in your earpiece.

Bucky gives him a nod in acknowledgement, leaning back down to better control the motorcycle. This time, his hand doesn't leave yours.

The trek through the Switzerland forest was less than a mile, but with each step your feet grew heavier and that sour stomach of yours returned with the dread of seeing your brother again. If he could even be considered your brother anymore. Who knows what actually remained. As much as you have begged and pleaded with the universe to make yet another exception for Lucas just as it had for Bucky, you were terrified of the man that you would soon encounter.

Just shy of coming out of the tree line to the supposed to be abandoned old military base, you hear a series of echoing pops- stopping all three of you dead in your tracks.

Gunshots.

Bucky and Steve exchange a quick, wide-eyed glance at one another, “Go, we’ll catch up.” Bucky says, and within the blink of an eye, Steve takes off running at super soldier speed.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until Bucky turned to face you, his shoulders squared, lips in a tight thin line. But looking between your eyes, he loosens a breath, gripping your shoulders, “Listen to me, Sunshine,” he makes every attempt to soften his voice, but a few more pops and yelling sound off in the distance making you wince. His hands grip you tighter, “I need you to focus. What I’m about to say goes against everything I normally believe, but in this circumstance it’s critical…” he sighs, looking down before back into your eyes- trying to convey the seriousness of what he’s saying, “you have to push the fear down. And I know how that sounds, but you can’t walk in there with that look on your face. Because honey, these people will not hesitate to kill you.”

You gasp lightly at the graveness of his words. It’s not like you didn’t know this walking into the mission, but it’s different once you’re actually here.

Bucky sighs again, his expression softening as his hands cup each side of your face especially gentle, “I know, baby. I know. I won’t leave your side,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “I just… I can’t lose you.” His voice cracks slightly, even at just the thought.

Even with your eyes teetering with the threat of tears, you nod in understanding. Placing each of your hands over his, you press your lips to Bucky’s- holding them there, accepting that the moment they pull apart it’s no longer about the two of you, but about the mission. Luke is your mission.

“I love you,” you murmur, before opening your eyes to see deep consternation in his.

Disassociation is a powerful coping mechanism for human beings. It can feel like an outer body experience or even a dream. More like a nightmare. But as you follow into the bunker where the screaming leads, closely behind Bucky with your gun drawn watching for any sudden movements and stepping over the trail of bloodied bodies in the hallway, you're thankful for the part of your brain trying to convince you that this isn't real.

"Still no sign of Castle," Sam's voice was pragmatic in your earpiece.

Bucky looked back over his shoulder at you while still walking, "Maybe he's not here after-" and that's when you see the slightest shift of a shadow in an inverted doorway.

It was so small that in any other instance you would just assume your eyes were just playing a trick on you. But not here. Your body reacted before your mind could even fully register- taking a sudden step to the side, you fired off two prompt shots. A heavy thud followed.

Practically giving himself whiplash, Bucky looks at where you shot and back to you. His eyes widen, mouth open slightly at the realization of what just happened. What you just did- for him. Your eyes haven't moved from that doorway, and your grip is tighter on the gun than it probably should be. Pain surges through your jaw with how tightly your teeth are clenched and yet, you wait to see if anyone else is there. Is there another shadow lurking just waiting for the opportunity to harm one of you?

"Y/n..." Bucky's voice is delicate as his eyes dart around, also looking for shadows, "we have to keep moving," he says in a coaxing manner.

I can’t. The words blare in your mind like a doomsday siren and yet you can’t speak. All you can do is focus on that that dark corner where the pool of crimson continues to grow.

Bucky steps in line of your gun with somber eyes meeting yours, causing you to simultaneously point it towards the ground and break your trance. You didn’t realize just how high and how tight your shoulders had been as you loosened your breath. A new version of you being transformed as you exhale.

“I-” You try catching your breath, completely slack jaw and shaking your head just trying to comprehend what you did. “I…I just-” and the tears are flowing. No crying, no uncontrollable sobbing, but a small steady line of tears as the overwhelming awareness of taking control and trading a life for someone that you love comes to light… just flows.

“You did what you had to,” he answers for you, nodding sympathetically. You don’t deserve kindness right now, do you? But that is why he is good. And that is why he deserves to live.

“We have to go, y/n.” Bucky says, looking over your shoulders and behind himself again. “It looks like no one else has been down here yet.” He grabs your hand, not waiting for a response before he’s treading down the hallway again.

Your feet shuffle instinctively at first to follow him, but the brightness of the flickering fluorescent lights quickly grounded you to where you actually are. There are lives at stake and you need to keep your head.

The distant noise of constant struggle seemed to almost completely stop. Every few minutes you would hear a familiar voice say 'clear' in your ear and relief would wash over you, just thankful for knowing that they were alive.

It got cold the further you went, meaning you probably had gradually descended underground. Finally, at the end of what seemed like a never-ending tunnel, was a large set of metal double doors with multiple large chains and padlocks.

You and Bucky exchanged a quick glance with one another before he fists the chain with his Vibranium hand, pulling effortlessly as they break into pieces. He pushes open the doors to reveal a large, primarily empty room aside from a bunch of dusty, bulky outdated computers. Most of the overhead lights don’t work, so it seems darker in here than it did in the corridor.

Bucky steps into the room and starts looking around, his boots crunching noisily on worn rubble and glass. You hold your breath, watching as his fingers skim along the keyboards, his eyes squinting at the monitors as he passes each one as though looking for something.

And then he stops at one in particular. He eyes it carefully before looking up at the ceiling to the lights again.

“What is it?” You can’t hide your curiosity.

“There’s still power to this base,” he says observantly, turning his attention back towards the computer. “Maybe…” he mumbles to himself, leaning over the monitor a bit, his fingers blindly searching before pressing the power button. Bucky stands back as the screen comes to life, but his eyes widen, alarmed as to what he sees.

“Bucky?” You ask apprehensively, moving to stand next to him and also look at the screen. It's mostly black, but there's a green contour of... a face?

"Hello Sergeant Barnes," the computer says with a German accent.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Bucky steps back, his hands fisting into his hair.

The voice chuckles, "Come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

“Is… the computer talking? To you?”

“Why, yes, Ms. Castle. I am,” your stomach turns over at the sound of the voice addressing you as well.

“What the fu-” you go to repeat Bucky’s words but get cut off.

“Does the facility seem… familiar, Barnes?” Zola asks, condescendingly. “Or, at the very least, the machinery?”

Bucky's eyes start to dart around the room, taking in the different equipment before muttering to himself in dismay, "these control the cyro chambers..."

The computer laughs menacingly, "Ah, so you do remember. Good! Good..."

Rolling his arm once while taking a large step forward, Bucky brings it down, crushing the computer completely. Exposed wires spark briefly from the powerful impact, otherwise leaving the room in silence.

“What- who was that?”

“Arnim Zola. A scientist for HYDRA. The one who, well…” Bucky passively gestures to himself, “experimented and is responsible for me.”

Suddenly, another one of the numerous screens comes to life- the digitized green face grinning, “tsk, tsk. Oh, Soldat…”

“I won’t answer to that anymore,” Bucky maintained through gritted teeth, raising his arm to disintegrate this talking monitor as well just as it says:

“Who said I was talking about you?”

Just then, you hear quick, trudged steps. The only warning you had before been picked up, as easily as a pillow and aggressively, carelessly thrown aside into a metal desk, knocking some of the computers that sat on top along with you.

You tried gasping for the air that was stolen from your lungs on impact with the floor, but it didn’t come. Instead, it burned, more than the pain creeping around the left side of your ribs as you sluggishly moved to sit on your knees. Looking up, you meet the threatening gaze of the one who attacked you.

He was exceptionally tall, especially from your view on the floor. Lean, but had an athletic build and strong. Super strong. He was dressed in all black tactical gear, the only color being a large red Soviet star in the center of his chest. A black mask covered all but his eyes, keeping him faceless. He was pale, as if he hadn't seen actual sunlight in years and had shoulder length dirty blonde hair.

But those eyes. They cemented you to the floor- glaring, daring you to move or even breathe. Just the look that he conveyed felt like you were in the presence of death itself. As you were able to take your first small breath, your lips parted, and eyes narrowed as they locked into his deadly gaze. There was such a darkness glazed over the emerald irises, but you'd recognize them anywhere.

"Luke..." you exhale, painfully. Both physically and emotionally.

His brow twitches slightly at you saying his name, like his mind is trying to recollect it from a long-forgotten dream. As his body turns to face you, he suddenly gets shoved back a few feet, "Back off, Castle." Bucky warns sternly, stepping between you and your brother.

Gripping the desk, you use it to hoist yourself up, whining slightly and grabbing at your left side realizing that you most likely have some broken ribs. The sound of your pain distracted Bucky for one second, and Luke took that opportunity to lunge forward and kick him high in the chest. With a breathless grunt, Bucky barrels backwards into you, knocking your back flush against the wall.

Luke was there in the blink of an eye, grabbing Bucky by the collar of his jacket. The two of them quickly became a tangle of throwing fists and kicks, breaking apart to find anything around to throw at one another. Overturning desks, throwing chairs, Bucky even chucked a still laughing Zola computer at Luke.

While you never thought the two most important men in your life would ever have the chance to meet, this is not the way you would have ever imagined it.

With your back still flat against the wall, you slide down to sit on the floor, starting to feel dizzy. Maybe it was the overwhelmingness of the situation, but instinctively you bring your hand to the back of your head, and it feels... wet. Looking at your fingers, they're now coated with fresh, warm crimson blood. It's getting harder to think straight with the tunneling vision, but you realize that you hit your head against the wall from the collision of bodies.

"Please..." you choke out a sob, "please, stop," you beg. But they can't hear you over their own heated screams and grunts as they continue to fight one another. Your narrowing vision focuses on Bucky, seeing that he is fighting more defensively- actively trying to avoid hurting Luke, pulling his punches where he can. Tears burn behind your eyes at the sight, knowing that if this were anyone else, it would already be over.

"Luke!" Bucky yells and quickly dodges to the side, avoiding the knife now sticking out of the wall that Luke threw at him. "Your sister came here to get you back! She's here for you. We're here for you!" Bucky maintained his distance, mirroring Luke's movement's trying to rely on his words rather than fists. They're pacing, waiting for the other to make a move.

The ringing in your ears was becoming too hard to ignore and as much as you tried to fight it, sweat started to bead up on your skin. You were losing consciousness, and fast.

"Bucky," you breathe out. His body tenses as he looks over at you, eyes wide. He jumps over one of the only remaining desks in the room and kneels down, hands hovering over body briefly, afraid to touch you.

"Okay... okay," he mutters to himself, scanning you over, his eyes linger on your hand with the now drying blood on them. Bucky gently cups your cheek, his thumb grazing over it as he forces a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You're gonna be okay, Sunshine. I-I'm going to get you outta here and get some help, okay?" His voice sounds shaky as his chest heaves, "Sam? I need a med evac for y/n,"

You nod once, or at least you think you do, as you continue to focus on Bucky. Everything around him starts to fade into a deeper black void. The last thing you see is Luke step into view over Bucky's shoulder to look down at you. At some point during their altercation, his mask had been ripped off. His lips were pressed into a thin line as his teeth clenched and remained expressionless while Bucky continued to stroke your hair and try to speak calm, reassuring words of how he would make sure you would be okay as you slipped under the surface of complete darkness.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr @skulliecadaver-blog

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

A/N: This is choice your character! I wrote this with Bucky Barnes in mind but I didn't specify who the character was or the gender of the reader.

He watched in amazement as you painted your nails.

How the hell do you do that? He wonders as you paint your dominant hand with ease. He tried to brush his teeth with his non-dominant hand once and that was a mess, so how could you be so precise with such a small brush?

He blushes when he notices he's been caught. "I - I was just admiring doll" He says with a shrug but you can see his cheeks brighten as he stutters.

The following week when it's time to repaint your nails he sits criss cross applesauce on your shared bed and has the small jar of polish on his leg. A movie is on in the background to give you something to do while he works but your eyes never leave him. You've never seen him be so cautious before.

He holds your hand gently as if you're made of glass and holds his breath trying to not shake as he paints your nail slowly and precisely. "Don't move babydoll" he mutters without looking away from your nails.

He blows on your nails once he's done and he relaxes some while you two cuddle with a movie on. He's still gentle with your hands until he's absolutely sure that they are dry and he gets upset if you aren't careful. "You're going to mess them up!"

He starts researching tricks to help him do your nails. He learned that ice water helps dry them quicker, he learned what cuticle oil is and how important it is for your nails, and he learned how to properly file nails.

He works so hard on your nails and even though they are a little messy you wear them with pride until it is time to redo them again. And once it is time to redo them he is ready to practice his artwork once more.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

The Night We Met

PAIRING || Police Officer!Tony Stark x Florist!Bucky Barnes

WORDCOUNT || 9.5K

SUMMARY || Bucky never expected that a 3 AM phone call would change everything for him. When he found out about a break-in at his flower shop, he also found love amidst the chaos.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || Canon divergence. Everyone lives AU. Florist AU. Police Officer AU. Veteran!Bucky Barnes. Florist!Bucky Barnes. Police Officer!Tony Stark. Strangers to friends to lovers.

WARNINGS || Tony is described as being tattooed. Angst. Break-in/robbery. Talk about a past traumatic event during war. Mentioned loss of limbs.

SMUT || Bottom!Bucky Barnes. Top!Tony Stark. D/S undertones. Soft Dom!Tony Stark. Sub!Bucky Barnes. Bondage: Vibranium handcuffs. Uniform kink. Dirty talk. Praise. Begging. Edging. Orgasm delay. Subspace. Oral (M receiving). Deepthroating. Implied rimming. Protected anal sex. Aftercare.

A/N || This one-shot is written as part of the WinterIron Bang - hosted by @winterironevents - and is based around the amazing artwork of @scottxlogan! I want to thank @vikwrites for taking the time to beta this story, as you have helped me bring this to a whole new level! 🤍

EVENTS @anyfandomaubingo || Police Officer!Tony Stark @buckybarnesbingo #B011 || Wearing each other's clothes @buckybarnesevents HBS Week 2 || "What should I call you?" @fandom-free-bingo Frosty || Moral support @fandom-free-bingo Pride || Pronoun badges @fandom-free-bingo Pride || "What if someone sees?" + Friends to Lovers

@fandom-free-bingo Wild || Flower Shop AU @kinky-things-happen || Subspace @lgbtqbingo || Height difference @sebastianstanbingo || Uniform Kink @winterironevents WIB #R2022 || Alpine

GIF: Source || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Bucky Barnes || Tony Stark || WinterIron

When Bucky went to bed mere hours ago, he was blissfully unaware his life would be turned upside down completely, and it would all be thanks to one single phone call at 3 AM. His cat, Alpine, was cuddled onto the pillow next to him, her snowy fur brushing against his face when he was rudely awakened from his slumber by his phone going off at the ungodly hour.

While she's still purring in her sleep, Bucky quickly stirs upright and grabs his phone, groaning as he sees an unknown number calling him. A surge of panic goes through him as he considers all the possibilities that could come from this phone call, uncertainty creeping throughout his figure.

Did something happen to my parents or Rebecca? Did Steve lock himself out of his apartment again after being on the rooftop for too long? It all passes through his thoughts as his finger hovers over the alarming 'pick-up' button.

"Bucky," is all he says in a deep, rumbling voice as he picks up, thinking about strangling whoever it is on the other side of the phone line. He's never been a good sleeper, but it has only worsened since he returned from war. Some nights, he jolts awake, the sounds of gunfire still ringing throughout his head, so he cherishes every minute of sleep he can afford.

"Hi, I'm looking for James Barnes. Is this him?" the man on the other side of the line questions, and Bucky can physically feel himself relax as he hears his voice, making him feel like a weight is being lifted off his shoulder. It's a deep, soothing baritone that renders him just a little calmer, even with the vague question he got asked.

"Yes. Is everything okay? I can only assume something's going on, seeing that you're calling me at—" Bucky glances at his alarm clock before finishing his sentence, "3:15 AM." Alpine wakes up because she hears Bucky's voice. She rubs her soft head against his free hand, and her silken fur brushes against his calloused palm, making Bucky smile a little.

"This is Lieutenant Tony Stark from the NYPD, and I'm sorry to inform you that your flower shop was broken into less than 30 minutes ago. I'm currently at the scene, but it would be helpful for you to come over and assess the damage that has been done," Tony calmly explains. His words hit Bucky like a freight train, causing his eyes to snap shut in horror at the realization of what had happened.

His flower shop—the pride and joy that he has dedicated the past decade of his life to, had been broken into and completely torn to shreds without any semblance of remorse from the bastards who did it.

"I—I… I'll be there in 10," Bucky sighs before saying his goodbye and quickly getting up so he can call his best friend, Steve, to inform him about what happened and to ask him to take care of Alpine, as he didn't know how long he would be gone for.

"Buck-" "I don't have time to explain! I have to go to the shop, and you need to take care of Alp for me, okay? I'll explain later," Bucky quickly says as he puts on an old Henley, a pair of sweatpants, and his running shoes before putting his hair into a messy bun on top of his head, slipping on a jacket, and running out the door. He at least still has the right mind to grab his wallet and keys before leaving and jumping onto his bike on his way to the store.

When he arrives, however, his heart sinks into his stomach as he looks at the damage they have done. Bucky quickly parks his bike before sprinting over, tears brimming on his waterline, threatening to spill over as he takes in every inch of his ruined storefront. Multiple windows are smashed in; the remaining glass shards are shattered and littered on the sidewalk. As he walks in the empty door frame, the entire interior of the flower shop is overhauled, many stems and blooms are trampled, their petals downcast, drooping, intricately designed bouquets scattered across the floor, and the door to his office is broken into. Amidst all this, a large police team is investigating.

With a heavy feeling in his stomach, tears began flowing freely down his cheeks as he looked around, observing the desecrated state of his beloved shop. Before he can go too far, he's stopped by a man in a police uniform, but despite his large stature, Bucky is still a good few inches taller than the man, which is noticeable as Bucky looks down to meet his gaze.

"You must be James. I'm Lieutenant Stark. We spoke on the phone not too long ago," Tony explains as he flashes his police ID, which Bucky responds to with a dejected nod because he is at a loss for words right now.

"W–Why?" is all Bucky can get out as he throws his arms up in defeat, unsure of what to do. His feet sweep away a few flowers that have been trampled; their delicate petals breaking off even with a gentle push. He can't stop the tears from falling, all the work he had put into this place has been ruined, and he still couldn’t bring himself to believe it, even though he's in the middle of it all.

"We're not sure why, but what we can say for sure is that your shop has been broken into. Obviously. The door to the office has been practically busted, and the safe is clinging onto its last hinges after they took every last thing in there." Tony tells Bucky, whose fists are clenching by his sides, as he attempts to subdue his anger. The news hits him like a physical blow as Tony's words hang in the air.

They chose his flower shop out of all the places they could rob. Who even breaks into those? They could have gone for the electronics store across the street, but no. They chose to bank on the fact that Bucky was an idiot who doesn't clear out the cash register overnight. Either that, or they were hoping the poppies would get them high.

Tony’s voice was soft as he spoke. "Could we maybe check the camera footage of what happened?" Bucky’s eyes widened as he cursed himself internally for completely forgetting that he had security cameras installed in this store in the first place.

"Y-Yeah, sure," Bucky stammered before leading the way to his torn-up office, where the laptop houses the camera footage and all the other administration. Tony motioned for him to go ahead first. Buckyhesitantly steps foot into his office, which he takes in with a deep breath before leading Tony inside. The damage there isn't as bad, it was mainly the safe that suffered the most harm, but it still pains him to see.

Once Bucky's seated in the chair, he retrieves his laptop, which was safely hidden away in a locked drawer in his desk. As he pulls up the security footage, he can't help but wonder why they didn't bother to look in there, but at the same time he's also relieved that  they didn't. While Tony carefully reviews the footage, Bucky leans back into his seat in defeat. Feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him, as a sniffle escapes, too.

Tony's hand landed gently on Bucky's shoulder, his voice laced with concern as he asked, "Is everything alright, James?" But despite the comforting touch, Bucky couldn't shake his head from side to side in response. His thoughts were clouded and his emotions tangled, making it hard for him to even form a coherent answer.

"I-I'm sorry, it's stupid," Bucky’s voice trembles, almost inaudible as he looks at the screen through blurry eyes, watching his flower shop being ravaged and ruined. His fists are balled in his lap as a wave of complete helplessness washes over him. A sudden sob now rips its way through his chest, the hand on his shoulder the only thing that's keeping him grounded.

"It's not stupid." Bucky’s breathe hitches as Tony crouches down next to him, concern etched on his face before Bucky wipes the tears away frantically, a rare show of vulnerability for a man who hasn't shed a tear in years, and here he is, bawling his eyes out in front of an entire team of cops.

"Your store has just been broken into, and that brings a lot of emotions along. It's not stupid to feel the things you're feeling right now," Tony reassures Bucky with a soothing smile, and he is suddenly all too aware of how Tony's hand is now placed on his knee. Somehow, between the chaos and his blend of emotions, he's also feeling something he hasn't felt in years, too, like a flicker of a small fire inside him reigniting after years of dormancy, stemming from nothing but a simple touch.

"How about this? Can you give me your number when we're done so I can keep you updated about the investigation into your store?" Tony then asks, and Bucky nods as the tears begin to subdue, a faint smile forming on his lips as he does.

"Sounds good," Bucky says softly. True to his word, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a scrap of paper, scribbling down his number and handing it to Tony. In return, Tony fumbles for his own phone and hastily enters Bucky's digits. While all the other people are done with the investigation and have packed up to leave, Tony can't bring himself to go just yet, so instead, he decides to lend a hand to Bucky with the clean-up and boarding up the empty window frames until Bucky can get them replaced by proper glass.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Stark, for everything." Bucky’s voice swelled with gratitude as he gestures with his arms to the now cleaned-up store. But a sinking feeling gnaws at his stomach. The last time he saw his store this barren was when he had first bought it a little over a decade ago, and now he can't help but feel apprehensive about starting all over again.

"Please, forgo the formalites, just call me Tony, and it was an honor to help you, James. Unfortunately, I must return to the precinct to do all the necessary paperwork, but I will keep you updated on the investigation. Good luck with the renovation of the shop," 

"Thank you, and I’ll call you Tony if you call me Bucky," Bucky says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, the corners of his mouth curling up into a playful smirk, which leavesTony blushing and makes him look endearing in the larger man's eyes.

“Good night, Bucky,” Tony says, reluctantly tearing himself away from their banter and leaving both Bucky and the shop behind on his way to do the dreaded paperwork. Meanwhile, Bucky is still standing where the police officer left him, with a large smile etched on his lips as he watches him walk to his vehicle. For the first time in years, Bucky is starting to feel something akin to butterflies in his stomach, and he can only hope Tony feels the same.

It’s been a month since the robbery of Bucky’s flower shop, and today it is time for the grand re-opening. During the entire time he was closed, he has decided to give the entire store a brand new look with the help of his best friend, Steve, as well as other people who have graciously offered their help after finding out what happened. Now, he’s busy in the shop, scurrying to get the last bouquets finished before the official opening in a few hours.

“What do you think of this?” Steve asks Bucky as he just finished setting up the table with an array of colorful pronoun badges that have been created by Bucky’s best friend in preparation to use during the re-opening. As Bucky approaches to stand next to Steve, his eyes glide over the pronouns ‘she/her’, ‘he/him’, ‘they/them’, ‘any pronouns’ and ‘ask me for my pronouns’.

“It's perfect!” A wordless exchange of grins passes between Bucky and Steve as he gives Steve a friendly pat on the back, and Steve responds with an accepting smile.

“Is there anything else I can do before I go home and change?” Steve asks as he peers over at Bucky, who just shakes his head, grateful for Steve's willingness to always lend a hand, before sending him off. As soon as the last bouquet is finished and placed in its vase, Bucky’s phone chimes with a notification, piquing his interest right away.

As soon as he sees who’s on the other end of the line, a large smile lights up on Bucky’s face, together with a faint pink hue painted on his cheeks. It’s from Tony, and he’s eager to read what he has to say. Over the course of the investigation, they’ve been talking more and more often, both about the robbery as well as other topics, which has only served to deepen Bucky’s infatuation for the other man exponentially.

Tony 👮>> Good luck with the grand re-opening tonight, I hope it goes well! I wish I could be there for you, but rest assured: I will be swinging by soon to buy some of the most beautiful flowers Brooklyn has to offer 😉

As Bucky lets the words on his screen sink in, he can’t help but smile like a mad man as his smile seems to grow to an almost unnatural size. The butterflies in his stomach are also going wild, and he can’t wait to see Tony again - but he will have to wait just a few more days in order to do so. He could almost hear his friend's deep voice and see the twinkle in his eye as he sent his well-wishes for the grand re-opening.

Bucky 💐>> Thank you. I wish you could be here tonight, too, but I’ll settle for you buying a bouquet or two once you finally have a day off 🥺

As he typed out his response, Bucky couldn't contain the joy bubbling up inside him—the thought of seeing Tony again after so long made his heart skip a beat. After one last look throughout the store, Bucky lets out a sigh of relief before heading home to prepare for the grand reopening. He takes a quick shower there before changing into a black and yellow outfit.

As he assesses his outfit in the mirror, his eyes glide over his Vibranium arm, and the black and gold of his fake limb are a beautiful complement to his outfit. A few years ago, he wouldn't have dared to walk around without a glove and long sleeves to cover it up. Through extensive therapy, he has learned that it's okay to have the prosthetic arm, and it's just as much a part of him as his flesh limbs.

Before he goes out the door, he brushes through his long locks, ultimately leaving them hanging loose instead of wearing them in his usual tied-back style. As he's walking out of the bathroom, Alpine is lying comfortably on her pillow on Bucky's bed, her soft fur practically glowing as the rays of the evening sun shine down on her.

"I'm leaving, Alp. Will you protect the house when I'm gone?" Bucky asks his cat lovingly as he scratches her behind the ears. She responds by pushing her head against his hand, soft purrs filling the room as she stretches. Bucky can't help but smile at the feline lying comfortably on her pillow as he pulls away, ready to reopen his store.

It's a beautiful summer evening, so Bucky rides his bike there today. This is a perfect way for him to let go of all the nerves that currently swirl through his body. As he drives through the streets of Brooklyn, his mind calms down immensely, and before he knows it, he's at his store, ready for the festivities later.

Bucky barely gets off his bike when the caterer - one of his best friends and the best cook he has ever met - Natasha Romanoff arrives with her team. A smile immediately adorns Bucky's face when he sees the fiery-haired woman clad in nothing but her signature black clothes, making her way over to him as an even larger smile graces her features.

"How're you feeling about tonight?" Natasha asks after enveloping her friend in a hug, now having to crane her neck to make eye contact with him.

Bucky rubs his neck with his large hand as he smiles nervously. "I'm excited but nervous at the same time. For the past ten years, I've been perfecting my store and everything that goes along with that, and it feels like starting all over again - which it is, in a sense. There's still the voice in the back of my head saying it won't be good enough, and people won't come back after seeing how it is now," he admits with a hint of defeat.

Natasha reaches for his hands, clasping them in hers as she squeezes reassuringly. "There's not a single thing you have to worry about, Bucky. Your store has been a neighborhood staple for years; people love visiting you! I know how terrifying it can be to start over, but you will be fine, I know it," she tells him, and Bucky nods.

"You're right, Nat. I needed that a lot," he says before letting his hands fall to his sides again when she lets go. After their conversation, Bucky feels about ten pounds lighter. While Natasha and her team are setting everything up, Bucky suddenly hears a knock on the front door, and he turns around to see his best friend, Steve, and his cat, Alpine. He quickly runs to the door to let them in, and Alpine immediately jumps over to Bucky to get some love from him.

"I can't believe you brought her over! Thank you for this amazing surprise, Steve," Bucky says, smiling at his best friend as he scratches the white feline behind her soft ears.

"Hey, there's no one more important in your life than Alp, so I figured I would bring her along. And you mentioned wanting her to come to the store more often, so she should be here on opening night, don't you think?" Steve says to Bucky as they walk to the table with pronoun badges.

Bucky hadn't noticed until now that Alpine was wearing a small badge with the pronouns "she/her" on it for tonight, and he couldn't help but laugh at the sight of it.

"Thank you, Steve, for everything. Thanks for the help over the past month in making the badges and, of course, for bringing Alpine tonight. Having her here tonight is an absolute must," Bucky responds with a giant smile before getting a cat bed ready, which he didn't think he would need for a little while. She will get a prominent place in the store tonight, as he places the bed on the counter next to the cash register to get all the attention she desires from tonight's guests.

Once everything is set up and ready to go, Bucky also grabs a pronoun badge before clipping it to his shirt and heading for the front door. He looks back to Steve for one more reassuring look, and then he officially turns the key to let all his friends, family, and acquaintances who have RSVP'd.

He's receiving many handshakes, hugs, and congratulations on the flower shop's reopening, and he takes it all in stride even though his heart rate is slowly rising with every person walking through the door. His eyes are looking for Steve, but he's too deep in conversation with some attendees to notice Bucky, so he takes a deep breath to steady himself and get through the remaining line of people.

Eventually, everyone's there, and it's time for Bucky to go and give the speech he prepared; a glass of champagne is ready in his hand, and the entire room is focused on him as he's about to start. But just before he can, the little bell above the door jingles, notifying everyone of one last guest this evening.

Tony Stark.

It's like Bucky's brain completely short circuits for a brief moment as he watches the other man grab a flute of champagne from one of the servers and find a place to listen to Bucky's speech. A small smile graces his face as he looks at Bucky, who can't help but smile as his brain finally catches up with what's happening.

"First off, thank you all for coming tonight to the grand reopening of Bucky's Flower Emporium! The last decade has been an amazing journey, and it all got turned upside down when the store was broken into, but I have taken this chance to create an entirely new experience for everyone," Bucky starts as he gestures into the store.

"After many discussions and considerations, we have created a safe place where people of any skill set can learn how to make their bouquets. There will be workshops for groups of up to 10 people, led by my friend and wonderful florist, Sam Wilson, or myself," he says, and Sam dutifully raises his glass in acknowledgment.

"There will also be opportunities to come by for some coffee, tea, and pastries provided by Thor Odinson, who makes the best pastries in New York! With that, you will be able to buy the amazing artwork on display behind me, made by my best friend, Steve Rogers, who has also designed all the pronoun badges you're wearing."

"And last but not least, Miss Alpine over here will also be in the store more often, so please don't hesitate to come in and give her some love as well - she loves being spoiled with attention!" Bucky jokes, and Alpine meows in response, only emphasizing his point as everyone laughs.

"Once more, thank you all for coming, and don't forget that all the bouquets you see here tonight are half off, so please don't hesitate to bring some home with you!" Bucky finishes his speech with a giant smile, his glass raised in the air before everyone disperses into conversations and looks at the bouquets Bucky has prepared for tonight.

The moment the speech is over, Bucky immediately makes his way over to Tony, who's dressed in a relatively simple outfit—but it's a significant difference from the uniform Bucky is used to seeing him wear. The shirt is open just enough to show off his broad, tattooed chest, and it's hugging him perfectly, just like his pants. The way the fabric spans over his thick thighs has Bucky nearly drooling, and the sight of it is ingrained in his memory forever.

In turn, Tony lets his eyes wander over Bucky's outfit, too, the Vibranium arm not going unnoticed. As he lets his gaze roam freely, he suddenly realizes that Bucky is dressed like one of the flowers in his shop - a sunflower, to be exact - and a small smile appears on his lips as he looks into his piercing blue eyes with his own deep, chocolate brown ones.

"I thought you didn't have time to come over tonight!" Bucky says before spreading his arms for a hug, which Tony happily accepts. Bucky takes a moment to take in his scent, which is musky with a hint of spice, only making the butterflies in his stomach go wilder.

"Well, I figured I'd come over and give you some moral support. It's an important night for you, and I couldn't resist seeing what you've done to the place after the investigation closed a few days ago," he says, and Bucky's practically beaming at his words.

"I'm glad you showed up tonight, Tony. It really means a lot," Bucky says before taking him to meet his friends as well as Alpine. The rest of the night goes by quicker than Bucky could have thought, and Alpine loved every attention she got tonight. He also sold out of most of his bouquets, leaving him more than satisfied.

Once everything is cleaned up and Bucky closes the front door behind him, he's relieved that everything has gone well tonight, but Tony's showing up has been the best surprise of the evening.

Since the reopening of Bucky's Flower Emporium, it has been busier than before the faithful night that flipped Bucky's life on its axis. Where he was already doing great before, he's now doing better than he could have ever dreamt. From Sam being there almost daily to host gardening workshops to hiring another worker to keep up with the constant stream of people, Bucky adores every second of it. But what he loves most is Tony coming over when he has the time, and this time, Bucky's been pacing around with something important on his mind.

This morning, Tony texted Bucky to let him know he'd come over today, and ever since then, Bucky's been staring a hole through the front door, his heart pounding with anticipation, impatient to see his crush finally walking through the door. The minutes seemed to drag on forever as he fidgeted behind the counter of the flower shop, unable to focus on anything else but the thought of seeing Tony again, but just as Bucky rings up a customer who has picked out a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers, the little bell chimed merrily, and lays his eyes on Tony, who is walking through the door with a charming smile on his face. Bucky couldn't help but beam back as their eyes met.

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief as the customer’s transaction came to a close, and they cheerily walked out the door, allowing Bucky to welcome Tony and help him pick out a bouquet to bring to the precinct.

"Good morning, Sunflower," Tony says lovingly as he hugs Bucky, which the taller man reciprocates with a warm feeling in his chest, reveling in the feeling of their bodies pressed together. During the reopening, Tony noticed that Bucky had worn shades of marigold, moss, and maroon, mimicking the hues of a sunflower, which became his nickname. Each time Tony playfully refers to him, Bucky can feel his nerves flutter like a caged bird, and the smile on Tony's face reassures him that he's feeling the same thing.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," Bucky replies with a sly wink after pulling away from his embrace, and a bashful flush colored Tony’s cheeks, which he attempts to conceal by inconspicuously turning around and peeking at some of the bouquets that Bucky has meticulously arranged. During all this, Sam shoots occasional glances at them from the corner of his eye with a proud smile as he guides his small group to cut off the stems of the flowers they had chosen.

The next twenty minutes were spent looking at flowers. At the same time, Bucky eagerly talks about their meanings—how dandelions represented reliance, how tulips bloom love—and how he created the intricate yet beautiful-looking arrangements. Tony’s gaze roams over the petals that flaunt their various hues and tones, until he picks out a large bouquet of vivid sunflowers to add a little colour the front desk in the precinct later. While Bucky packs it up for Tony,  his nerves start to set in. The clock is ticking, and with each passing second, the window of opportunity to share what's been incessantly plaguing his mind is getting smaller.

Bucky's inner voice urges him on, relentless and insistent. 'Come on, it's now or never,' it seems to say, a constant nagging in his mind. His heart pounds in his chest as he debates whether to take the leap or stay put. The weight of the decision hangs heavy on his shoulders.

Just before he hands Tony the finished bouquet, he blurts out his thoughts, "I-I want to go on a date…with you!"  The exclamation swiftly leaves his lips like a hushed whisper, spoken with hesitation. 

As soon as the words left his mouth, Bucky couldn't help but feel embarrassed at how he had formulated them. Tony can't help but stand there with raised brows at the boldness that has suddenly come over his friend. A deep red blush appeared on Bucky’s cheeks as his gaze became downcast in embarrassment squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that he could rewind time to take it all back. This wasn't how I planned it to go, oh god, I screwed it up. —he didn't even ask if Tony wanted to go on a date with him, but much to his astonishment and relief, Tony agreed.

"I would love to go on a date with you, Sunflower,’ Tony says with a reassuring smile, “But I'll have to text you about the details later. Unfortunately, I have to leave now, but I'm looking forward to it," Bucky nods as the flush on his cheeks slowly subsides. As Tony walks out the door, Sam can't help but snicker, earning himself a glare from Bucky before he retires to his office to work on some administrative tasks he's been pushing off so he wouldn't miss Tony coming into the store.

True to his word, Tony texts Bucky that same evening with some plans, which he happily agrees to. During the upcoming Saturday, Bucky plans on teaching Tony how to craft a simple bouquet before they head out to dinner and a bar afterward to finish the evening on a high note. Bucky has never said yes to something so quickly, and the anticipation builds as now all he can do is wait until it's finally Saturday, which seems to be an eternity away on the quiet Thursday night he's now enjoying, with Alpine curled up in his lap.

The past few days dragged on way too slowly for Bucky's liking, but it's finally Saturday morning, and Bucky's alarm goes off, notifying him it's time to get up and get ready for his date. He spent the better part of an hour in front of the mirror trying to get his ruffled hair to comply and contemplating his outfit, ultimately deciding on ripped jeans and a striped shirt.

However, before he takes a shower and gets dressed, he takes a moment to cuddle with Alpine as part of their usual morning routine. As he strokes her silvery fur, he shares the details of his day to her, and she's taking in all the affection before usually falling asleep in his arms again. "Are you excited about Steve coming over today, hm? Daddy won't be here to care for you tonight, so he'll be here with you later to cuddle and feed you," he says as he nuzzles into her soft fur, relishing in the slightly ticklish sensation against the skin of his face.

"Daddy's going on a date with Tony. Can you believe it? Because I surely can't either," Bucky continues as she purrs in his arms, his fingers scratching behind her ears, causing them to perk up. He tells her a bit more about everything he has planned, and eventually, she climbs out of his arms to lie on her pillow, allowing Bucky to get ready for said date.

After a quick shower, he slips into the clothes he laid out before fixing his hair, once again opting to leave his hair loose for a change but making sure to bring a hair tie along just in case, as it'll come in handy during the first part of their date: keeping unruly strands out his vision while making a flower arrangement. The rest of the morning seems to pass in a blur of anticipation and excitement, and just after lunch, it's almost time to go when he hears the familiar click of the front door lock turning.

"I'm here, Buck!" Steve yells, his voice echoing throughout his house, and Bucky pokes his head around the corner to greet his best friend while brushing his teeth, not wanting to risk a potential disaster by having bad breath. While Steve makes himself some lunch in Bucky's kitchen, Bucky finishes getting ready.

"Thank you again for taking care of Alp today; it means a lot," Bucky says as he walks into the kitchen. Steve smiles up at his best friend.

"No need to thank me, Buck. You know I will take care of her anytime," Steve reassures him, and he nods, knowing he's correct. There's nothing either wouldn't do for the other, even when they get a call at 3:15AM in the morning. After one last check in the mirror and finicking with his hair, Bucky grabs his keys and wallet before heading out the door and on his way to his date.

As soon as the Uber he ordered arrives, he can feel his nerves running wild. With every passing second, he's getting closer to going on a date with Tony he's been looking forward to for days. They have been texting one another whenever possible for the past few days. Last night, they FaceTimed for about an hour and couldn't stop announcing their excitement for their date.

Much to his surprise, Tony was already waiting in front of Bucky's Flower Emporium. This time—clad in a light outfit that complemented his skin beautifully. His usually messy curls are now styled neatly into a perfect quiff, and his facial hair is trimmed to accentuate his jawline, making him look even more handsome than he already is.

"Hey, Sunflower," Tony whispers as Bucky pulls him into a tight embrace, their bodies fitting together perfectly. Bucky takes in Tony's scent as he nuzzles his face into his shoulder, not wanting to let go. Tony smells of bergamot with a hint of citrus, and Bucky takes a mental note of the scent. Eventually, he has to detach from the embrace, and he quickly retrieves his keys from his pocket so they can head inside.

"The store looks so... different when there's no one inside," Tony remarks, and Bucky nods in response. Suddenly, Bucky's unsure what to say when they're inside, feeling a surge of uncertainty as he can’t help but fidget and wring his fingers nervously as he looks away, suddenly feeling very out of place in the once-familiar environment.

"Hey, it's okay to be nervous; I am too," Tony’s voice was gentle, reassuring. His hand rests on Bucky’s bicep in a comforting gesture, and Bucky can feel the warmth of his touch seeping through his shirt and onto his skin. His gaze meets Tony’s, taking in the lighter specks in his otherwise dark, chocolate-brown eyes.

Bucky shifts nervously, his eyes darting back and forth as he speaks. "You're right, I-I'm sorry. It's just that I haven't been on a proper date in years," Bucky admits, his voice tinged with shyness, and Tony smiles at his answer before nodding.

"That makes two of us. I don't even remember the last time I've been on a date, to be honest, but something about you has changed my mind. I feel so comfortable around you, and I can truly be myself, which I always look for in someone," Tony reaches out to Bucky's hand, and much to his surprise, it's his Vibranium one he's reaching for. Though he doesn't physically feel Tony's touch, he can still feel a soft sensation of pressure while looking at their intertwined hands.

"Thank you for allowing me to be myself, Sunflower. We may not be perfect, but I think that as long as we have one another, we're pretty damn lucky in this world," Tony tells Bucky before squeezing his hand reassuringly and then making their way to the workshop area.

"So, onto flower arrangements..." Tony says with a playful twinkle in his eye as he gestures to the workbench, where an array of colorful petals and green stems lay waiting. Bucky can't help but giggle at the other man's words, a broad smile gracing his features as a hearty laugh escapes his chest. And just like that, they spend the next few hours making flower arrangements together, working side by side, carefully selecting each bloom and arranging them into beautiful bouquets and centerpieces. 

With skilled hands, Bucky carefully selected a variety of vibrant, multicolored flowers, and made a beautiful multicolor bouquet that perfectly reflected the sunny weather outside. Meanwhile,Tony opted for a simpler arrangement with dandelion yellow and crisp white blooms. Bucky took the time to explain each step and guide Tony where necessary. They shared jokes and laughter, making the process all the more enjoyable. The fragrant scent of fresh flowers filled the room, adding to the cheerful atmosphere.

Now, they’re standing back as they’re admiring each other’s handiwork, their bodies so close that they’re practically touching. When Bucky’s eye suddenly catches sight of  a perfect white rose, lying astray on the bench, he plucks it up before removing most of the stem and turning to Tony, who watches his every move with rapt attention.

With a soft smile, Bucky leans in to gently tuck the flower behind Tony’s ear, the cold metal of his finger tracing a strand of his brunette hair. As he does, Tony lets his eyes slip shut while reveling in the sensation of Bucky’s fingers gliding across his skin. He’s considerably closer to Bucky when he opens them, and both heart rates rapidly pick up as they take in the closeness.

“May I kiss you?” Bucky asks softly.

“What if someone sees?” Tony asks, slightly apprehensively.

“Then they can enjoy a nice view of us kissing, if you ask me,” Bucky responds mischievously, and with those words, Bucky closes the gap between them. Their lips and tongues move together in a passionate dance, and their hands roam freely,  tracing along each other’s bodies simultaneously. They take their time exploring one another, but eventually, the need for air becomes greater than the need for each other, and Bucky is the first one to pull away.

“Wow,” he whispers in awe, his gaze fixed on Tony's face as a large smile tugs at the corners of his flushed lips, and Tony nods in agreement with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Both their faces are flushed as they take a step back, though they don’t want to be too far away from one another. With quick efficiency, the clean-up is done, and when Bucky turns to Tony to tell him something, he’s surprised by the other man’s lips on his again, which he graciously accepts.

Once they finally manage to pry themselves away from the other person, their hearts racing as they head out to dinner. The evening rushes by in a blur of easy conversation and shared laughter, their hands constantly brushing against each other as if drawn together by an invisible force. The conversations flow naturally between them, and they haven't had this much fun in a long time as they stroll their way to a nearby bar.

The dimly lit bar was bustling with people, their chatter blending together in a dull hum. Tony and Bucky stood side by side at the sleek bar counter, surrounded by shelves of glistening alcohol bottles. The bartender waited patiently for their order, a faint smile on his weathered face.  

"What's your drink of choice, Sunflower?" Tony asks as he's standing beside Bucky at the bar, looking up at him while Bucky thinks about what he wants. He settles for a whiskey while Tony goes for an extra dry dirty Martini with extra olives, which makes Bucky chuckle.

"I didn't know you had such an elaborate drink order, Lieutenant," Bucky's playful tone caused a faint blush to rise on Tony's cheeks. He stammers out something about the drink being his favorite, hoping to hide his embarrassment. After a little more teasing banter, both their drinks are ready, and Bucky and Tony find a small empty spot at the bar and settle onto the stools with a sense of relief.

"May I ask what happened to your arm?" Tony asks when they're both settled into their seats, and Bucky briefly hesitates, feeling a familiar knot form in his stomach. He has been expecting this conversation for a while now, knowing it was bound to happen, but he's always a little apprehensive to talk about it, not wanting to shy away from the truth and risk pushing Tony away with his past.

"Uh- y-yeah, of course" Bucky finally managed to say. He shifted his stance, facing Tony fully and trying to relax his tense shoulders.

"Before I became a florist, I had been serving in the military for a little over 15 years as a trauma surgeon. One unfortunate day, our peaceful camp was rocked by a sudden explosion, a bomb was detonated next to our tent, and the shrapnel blew up pretty much all of our tent and the people inside along with it. I was on the far end of the tent when it happened, I wasn't spared from the devastation; shards of sharp shrapnel sliced through my arm, causing such severe damage that it had to be amputated at the shoulder," Bucky somberly recounts to Tony, who listens with rapt attention and empathy for his friend's harrowing experience.

"About a year before I opened the shop, I got the chance to participate in a program that helps veterans who lost their limbs in the line of duty, and I have been lucky enough to have gotten a completely new arm. It's made of Vibranium, and even though I can't physically feel anything with it, it has ultimately pushed me to follow my dream: to use my arm as an outlet to create something beautiful, so I could learn to see the beauty of my arm, too. It’s taught me to see the beauty in my own unique circumstances and embrace them wholeheartedly."

"Over the years, I have learned to work and create along with it. Instead of fighting it, I’ve embraced it and now I'm not ashamed to show it off anymore. It used to be a big part of my insecurity and low self-esteem, but nowadays, it's just as much a part of me as my other limbs, but the biggest difference is that this one's a different material," Bucky says with a small smile, and Tony nods.

"I'm so glad you've learned to love yourself and the arm because you deserve to be loved. By others, sure, but most of all, you deserve to be loved by yourself," Tony says tenderly as he cradles the metal hand between his own, tracing soothing circles over the cold surface of the metal. Without saying another word, Bucky leans in to capture Tony's lips with his own again as he pours every single emotion he's feeling into it. Tony's breath hitches at the sensation of Bucky's lips on his own once again, but that quickly dissipates as he surrenders to the kiss, savoring every precious moment of it.

"Thank you for saying that, Tony," Bucky whispers as he pulls back, his breath warm against the other man's ear as he whispers his gratitude, looking into the other man's deep, dark brown eyes with an appreciative and adoring look before grabbing his drink and taking a sip, feeling the pleasurable way the liquid burns as it goes down. Tony finishes all of his Martini in one go before he gets up and leans in to whisper something in Bucky's ear that piques his interest.

"Do you want to go back to my place or yours?" he asks,  his voice low and inviting, and after a short moment of contemplation, Bucky tells him that it's better to go to Tony's place. After all, Steve is currently at Bucky's apartment to take care of Alpine. Not even ten minutes later, they're in an Uber snuggled together in the backseat, impatiently waiting until they arrive at Tony's apartment, exchanging playful touches and glances while their fingers intertwine.

As soon as the front door clicks shut, Tony’s hands are on Bucky, pressing him back against the sturdy wall before his lips are on Bucky's again. Tony's tongue pushes into Bucky's mouth immediately while Tony's hands open every last button on Bucky's striped shirt. Once the fabric is loose, Tony's hands move up and into Bucky's hair, which he softly tugs before pulling away, allowing himself to take in the look on the larger man's face.

"Let's move this to the bedroom, Sunflower," Tony whispers in a breathy voice as he grabs Bucky's hand and pulls him towards the large bedroom. As he does, Bucky takes in as much of the apartment as possible, but it doesn't last long, as he's quickly pushed onto the bed.

"I think it's about time we get you out of these clothes, don't you think?" Tony asks rhetorically, and before Bucky can even catch up with what's happening, he's stripped almost entirely bare. The only thing that's left is his underwear, which shows the fact that he's getting painfully hard at everything that's happening.

"Fuck," Tony groans as he takes in the sight of the man in front of him. The way his cream-colored skin is such a stark difference against his black and gold arm doesn't go unnoticed by Tony, and he leans over to press a few soft kisses on the scarring surrounding the fake limb.

"So beautiful," Tony whispers as he trails a line of kisses from the shoulder down his body, Tony's hands slowly inching their way up Bucky's thighs to where he needs Tony most of all. Tony maps out Bucky's entire body with his hands and lips, committing every inch of it to memory.

"What should I call you?" Bucky suddenly asks, and for a short moment, Tony's caught off-guard by the question. He didn't give it any thought beforehand, and his mind is coming up completely blank, too.

"What do you think you should call me?" Tony then answers, and Bucky takes a moment to take in his words, letting the words sink in as he's starting to sink into a floaty headspace.

"Officer." A short and simple answer, but one that goes straight to Tony's rapidly hardening cock as it throbs inside his pants. Tony lets out a deep groan at the name, and he practically rips Bucky's underwear off his body, unable to wait any longer to have a taste of him.

"Are you okay with this, Sunflower? Because if you're not, we can stop. We can stop whenever you want, okay?" Tony asks before moving any further, his gaze locked on the man beneath him, and Bucky nods slowly. He hasn't been with anyone in literal years, but his submissive side always bubbles up with minimal effort as he becomes nice and pliant for Tony.

"Good boy," Tony praises Bucky as he grabs the larger man's cock, his hand barely able to wrap around the girth. He works him over slowly as he keeps looking and listening to Bucky to find exactly what he likes. Bucky is like an open book at this point, as moans and groans constantly tumble from his lips.

The moment Tony takes his tip into his mouth, Bucky's hips instantly buck up into Tony's mouth, the pleasure almost being too much for Bucky to be able to handle. As Tony takes more and more of him into his mouth, Bucky can't help but moan louder until it's bordering on pornographic.

"F-fuck, Officer-" Bucky pleads, and Tony pulls off with a loud pop while his hand keeps going. "'M close," Bucky mutters, but he doesn't get his way yet.

"Not yet, Sunflower. I know you're close, but you need to hold out for a little longer, as I haven't done a thorough investigation of your body yet," Tony says seductively, and it hits exactly the way he had hoped. He had a suspicion Bucky had both a kink for Tony's profession and a uniform kink, and his suspicions had been confirmed.

Without warning, he immediately takes Bucky into his mouth again, this time until his nose is touching his pelvis, and he's practically gagging around the larger man's cock. He sounds filthy, but both of them are loving every second of it as Bucky's fists are holding the sheets tightly in order not to cum yet, while his hips buck up, driving his cock even deeper into Tony's throat.

"C-Close!" Bucky exclaims as Tony lets Bucky's balls roll in his hand, squeezing softly before tugging on them. He swallows Bucky down again, this time more easily than before.

"Off—O-Officer," Bucky says with a strained voice as his eyes are locked onto the smaller men between his legs. The sight is one he will never forget. "P-Please, let me c-cum!"

Instead of answering, Tony works Bucky's cock with his hands and mouth until the other man cums with trembling legs and loud, drawn-out moans. It's one of the most intense orgasms Bucky has ever felt, and his brain has gone completely blank at this point, now deep into subspace.

"Good boy, you did so well for me, you follow your Officer's orders so well," Tony praises him as he lets the other man retain his breath, but only briefly. Tony quickly climbs off the bed to strip himself of every last bit of clothing he's wearing, and he reaches over to his nightstand to get a few items: a bottle of lube, a condom, and the Vibranium handcuffs he bought in preparation for exactly this moment.

Once Bucky has come down from his high, Tony climbs over his large body to capture Bucky's lips in a soft kiss, to which Bucky responds instantly as his hands are on Tony within seconds. They take their time exploring each other's mouths, and Bucky moans at the taste of himself on Tony's tongue.

"I need you to sit on your hands and knees for me, Sunflower; been dreaming of what it's like to fuck you completely senseless, so that's exactly what I'll be doing now," he whispers in Bucky's ear, who smiles before moving to sit on his hands and knees. Once Bucky is in position, Tony catches him off-guard by pulling his hands behind his back, which causes his face to be pushed into the sheets, which quickly grow wet from the drool escaping Bucky's slack mouth.

"You're under arrest for being a bad boy," Tony says as he cuffs both of Bucky's hands behind his back, ensuring there's no way he can get out of them without help. Once satisfied, Tony sits back to admire his work with a smile. Seeing Bucky on his knees with his hands behind his back and his face practically pressed into the sheets gives Tony a huge rush of endorphins.

Now, Tony takes his time to work Bucky open with his fingers and mouth, paired with countless moans and whines as he does. Once Bucky is adequately prepped for Tony's huge cock, Tony rips open the condom before rolling it on and covering it with even more lube, ensuring it'll be nice and slick as he fucks Bucky into oblivion in a moment.

"Ready, my beautiful Sunflower?" Tony asks in a loving voice, and Bucky mumbles a soft yes as Tony lines up, eager to work himself into Bucky's willing ass. He takes hold of Bucky's hips as he pushes in, and he's met with the slightest bit of resistance as he does, but Bucky's body accepts him not long after.

"That's it, Sunflower, fuck- you take your Officer's cock so well," Tony groans through gritted teeth, as he's trying his hardest not to cum before he's even thrust into Bucky's welcoming body. The heat of Bucky around his cock is nearly driving him insane as he's holding onto every last bit of his sanity.

"God, you feel so good. You're going to let your Officer fuck some sense into you, huh? Gonna let your Officer fuck you so hard you have no other choice than to be his good boy?" Tony taunts Bucky, and Bucky can't do anything but moan incoherently, much to Tony's pleasure. He's exactly where Tony wants him - blissed out and fucked thoroughly.

With a groan, Tony bottoms out, and one of Tony's hands lets go of Bucky's hip in favor of grabbing the handcuffs, which he pulls on with every thrust, effectively pulling the large man back onto his cock with every deep thrust. It's been a while since Tony has felt this type of pleasure, and he can't get enough of it as he speeds up his thrusts.

"Fucking fuck! You feel so fucking good on my cock, Sunflower, should've fucked you much sooner," Tony says as his orgasm is rapidly approaching. Without warning, Bucky lets out a long, dragged-out moan as he cums again, his seed spurting all over the sheets without even being completely hard yet. It's precisely what pushes Tony over the edge, too.

"Fuck yes, take your Officer's cum! Gonna fill you up until you're leaking with my cum, and then I'm going to fuck it all back in again to make sure you will keep it all in this perfect, tight ass of yours," Tony pants, and he lands a loud smack on Bucky's as he fucks Bucky through their orgasms. When the sensitivity becomes too much, he pulls about before collapsing next to Bucky, who's now facing him after lying down on his side, too.

"You did so well for me, Sunflower. You've been such a good boy for me," Tony whispers as he tucks some loose hair behind Bucky's ear and leans in to place a peck on his nose and lips. Bucky smiles into the soft touches as his eyes slip shut, and he lets Tony take care of him, trusting him to do exactly what needs to be done to prevent a subdrop.

"I'm going to get a washcloth to clean you up and some chocolate and fruits for you to nibble on, okay? I'll be close by the entire time," Tony tells Bucky. Bucky whines softly at the thought of being left alone, but he eventually accepts it. Tony then takes his time to remove the handcuffs, massaging his Bucky's flesh wrist from the strain before grabbing the washcloth, food, and two bottles of water.

"Here I am, Sunflower. I'm right here with you, and I'm not leaving again, I promise," Tony whispers as Bucky clings to him once he's all cleaned up. Tony's seated with his back against the large headboard, and Bucky's seated sideways in his lap as he feeds Bucky the chocolate and fruit and takes bites for himself.

"How're you feeling?" Tony asks after Bucky finishes the last of his water bottle and chocolate, and he's visibly tired.

"Good. Sleepy," he says with droopy eyelids, which makes Tony chuckle. They get comfortable under the comforter, and Bucky immediately pulls Tony against his chest before falling asleep. That night, they have some of the best sleep they've had in a long time, as they're now lying in the arms of someone they have massive feelings for.

The next morning, Tony gets up before Bucky to prepare breakfast, and just when he's about done, Bucky walks into the kitchen wearing the sweatpants and hoodie Tony laid out for him to wear. His hair is messy, and he still looks sleepy, but Tony still thinks he looks beautiful.

"Mornin', Sunflower," Tony says as he watches Bucky sit on one of the stools at the kitchen island. He finishes preparing the food before walking over to the other man, giving Bucky a peck on his lips, and putting a plate with toast, eggs, and bacon in front of him together with a large, steaming cup of black coffee.

"Morning," Bucky says sleepily, and a smile lights up his features as he kisses Tony back. Then, he dives into his food, and Tony takes his place next to him at the kitchen island before eating his breakfast, too.

"So… This is maybe an odd question, but… what are we, exactly?" Bucky asks when they're both finished with breakfast and enjoying some light conversation over a fresh cup of coffee. There's uncertainty laced in Bucky's voice as he brings up the topic on his mind since they went to Tony's apartment last night.

"What do you want us to be?" Tony asks, even though he knows what he wants them to be. However, he doesn't want to push him away, so he's willing to take it at whatever pace Bucky's comfortable with. Bucky smiles at the question before answering - the one Tony secretly hoped for.

"Boyfriends," he answers honestly, and Tony nods in agreement as a large smile adorns his features.

"I want that too, Sunflower; there's nothing that would make me happier than to be your boyfriend," Tony whispers before leaning in and capturing Bucky's lips in a soft, loving kiss that has his heart racing.

Boyfriends. It's a term both of them happily get used to, and they're secretly happy that those idiots broke into Bucky's flower shop because, without them, they wouldn't have found their happily ever after in one another.

[buckyownsmylife]

Crash & Burn - Chapter 5

The one where Bucky is your father best friend, and the man you want to take your virginity.

Bucky is losing everything: his wife, his business, his house. And when his best friend is too busy to offer him the support he needs, you offer him your ear and shoulder. He wouldn't find it too bad that getting closer to you made him see you with new eyes, if it wasn't for the one thing you asked in return: you want him to be the first man to ever fuck you.

For general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Where are we going?” He hadn’t said a word since we left the house, which we did in a hurry greater than that one time he and my father scored tickets for the superbowl and were afraid we were going to miss it.

I didn’t mind the suspense or the hurry, to be honest. At least this time he’d let me take my time changing clothes. It was the curiosity that was killing me, but all of my questions went unanswered on the drive down to wherever-the-hell we were going.

“Just wait and you’ll see…” It was all he told me, and as much as I wanted to press, I decided it’d be best not to do it. James must have had his reasons to keep this away from me, and I trusted him with my life, especially after what had happened the night before.

I still couldn’t think about it properly. Just imagining him undressing me had my entire body growing hotter, and since we were side by side in his car, it wasn’t the type of place I could lay back and let my imagination get the best of me.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder… Did he enjoy what he saw? I knew I must have looked gross, all covered in puke, but once he’d cleaned me up, did his gaze wander more that it should?

Was he having as much of a hard time being alone with me as I was having with him?

“We’re here.”

To my surprise, we’d stopped in front of a bar. It looked ran down and grungy, the type of place I’d never have the guts to visit alone, but I wasn’t alone. The only question is… what were we doing there?

“I don’t want you to associate drinking with bad experiences or emotions. And I especially don’t want you to drink to feel numb.”

His concern for me had me feeling all warm inside. Nodding, I accepted his proposal and climbed down the car to join him on an afternoon of drinking shenanigans, which was a thousand times more fun than the night I’d previously had could have possibly been.

Getting back home, he hadn’t drunk as much as I did, so he was still able to drive and listen to my drunken babble about stupid stuff. Somehow, we’d ended up on the subject of crushes, and I admitted I had a crush on him when I was younger.

“I even imagined I was kissing you when I had my first kiss.” A sharp inhale echoed around the car, but no other reaction was heard from him.

“The guy was that bad? That you had to picture me instead just to get to kiss him?” I knew he was trying to brush it off by joking, but I was too drunk not to want to be taken seriously.

“No, I was just that in love with you,” I insisted, only to receive silence back in return. I didn’t think much of it until he laughed under his breath, breaking said silence.

“Good thing you got over that crush,” he assumed. "Can you imagine how weird it would have been when you lost your virginity?”

I laughed with him, but not for the same reason as he did. “Well, there’s still time,” I assured his confused state. “I haven’t lost it yet.”

“What?!” He asked, clearly shocked.

“C’mon, I just told you,” I insisted, remembering the conversation we had in the bar even through the foggy haze of the drinks I’d had. “Guys my age are… disgusting.”

I thought I had stopped speaking, but apparently, my mouth kept moving as I thought out loud, “They’re not like you.”

Then, I looked at him as he drove his car, all sexy in his leather jacket and simple white t-shirt, without even realizing it.

And I said the words I would come to regret. “I want your cock in my mouth.”

I don’t think I would have realized what I had done if it wasn’t for his reaction. The car swerved to the left for a second, and we both went flying out of our seats despite the seat belts well attached to our bodies.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He asked once he was able to take control of the vehicle again. “Is that it?”

And all I could think was ‘Shit’. Alcohol really did make me think out loud.

“Are you angry with me?” I managed to find the courage to ask him once he had parked in front of the house, neither of us rushing to climb out of the car despite what had happened - or perhaps because of it.

“I could never be angry with you.” He shook his head vehemently, and that helped me - a little. Because he was still avoiding my eyes, not wanting to connect his beautiful blue hues with mine, and that meant he was still uncomfortable about what had happened, and it killed me.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, and that earned me the eye connection I was looking for. He didn’t look disgusted, which I considered a win. If anything, he looked a little bit… intrigued?

And I don’t know what happened. Our eye connection lasted longer and longer, and then the distance between us grew shorter and shorter, until he was leaning over me and his lips were on mine.

I never wanted it to stop. It was the sweetest kiss I’d ever had, and it made me feel like crying when he pulled away to stare at me again.

“Your lips are really soft,” was the first thing out of his mouth, and it had me smiling widely at him, not prepared for the following words that would come out of his lips. “Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay? This… would be wrong on so many different levels.”

And I found myself nodding, ‘cause I didn’t know what else to do other than to accept that the crush I thought I had on my father’s best friend was bigger than it had ever been before.

[elizabethsnuts]

okay what if nat and bucky's daughter asks for a sibling on her birthday?? Then, the parents are speechless hearing that question?? Or idk you decide 😭😭

Birthday Wishes

WinterWidow x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You make an unexpected wish when blowing out your cake candles on your birthday.

———

It was a very special day, it was your birthday. The compound was decorated with a superhero theme just for you. You were ecstatic the second you woke up, you could barely sleep the night before, and the excitement was way too much for you to calm down.

You ran into the compound living room, seeing all your decorations, balloons everywhere, streamers and banners. You squealed excitedly and jumped up and down.

Bucky grinned at you and scooped you up. “There’s my big 5-year-old! Do you like all the decorations?”

You nodded eagerly and grinned, your little pearly-white baby teeth showing. “Yes, yes, yes! I love it, Daddy! I’m 5 now, that’s my whole hand!” You held up five fingers and giggled.

Bucky chuckled and kissed your cheek. “You’re so old, babydoll! I think you’re catching up to me.”

You smirked and looked at Bucky like he said the silliest thing in the world, you obviously thought he was serious. “Daddy you’re so silly, you are way too old. Very far away from 5. I don’t want to be as old as you.”

Bucky's face fell and Natasha snickered as she walked over. Bucky looked over at his wife. “Did you tell her how old I was?”

Natasha put her hands up in surrender with a smirk on her face. “Hey, hey, hey, I said nothing.”

———

When it was time for cake, you were so excited to get your hands on the perfectly decorated treat. You had been caught suspiciously lurking around the cake table multiple times throughout the day.

“Alright, it’s finally time for your cake, malyshka!” Natasha grinned and lifted you onto a chair so you could stand and see the cake.

“Yay! Cake time! Cake time!” You jumped up and down on the chair, waiting for Natasha to light the candles.

Bucky stood beside you to control your frantic jumping. “Okay, okay, sugar monster! Calm yourself, the cake isn’t leaving.”

You giggled and stopped jumping, watching as Natasha lit the candles and everyone started singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you. As the song came to a close, you clapped your hands as you prepared to blow out your candles.

“Make a wish, Y/N!” Wanda said quickly before you could blow the candles out.

“Oh yes!” You smiled and thought for a moment. “I wish for… hmmm… I wish for a baby sister!” You said excitedly and quickly blew out your candles.

Natasha and Bucky widened their eyes and looked at each other. They didn’t know what to say, they were speechless. Bucky was stumbling over his words, trying to clear his throat. Natasha regained her composure and looked back at you, giving you an awkward laugh. “A baby sister? Why’s that your wish, malysh?”

You grinned and looked at Natasha. “All my friends at the park have a sibling!”

Bucky quickly cut the cake to try and move topics. They knew you’d hate having to share their attention and you had made it clear in the past that they were only your mama and daddy.

“Who wants cake?” Bucky smiled and held up a piece of cake.

“Me! Me! Me! Me! I’m birthday girl!” You cheered and reached out for the cake. Bucky quickly placed it in front of you and fixed your party hat.

Natasha whispered to Bucky. “What do we do? What if she keeps asking? We don’t want another kid!”

“Relax Nat, it’s just a phase. She just wants to fit in, I’m sure she’ll eventually stop asking.” Bucky put his hand on Nat's shoulder. “Just uh… don’t mention it.”

“Surely that new doll with satisfy her enough.” Natasha smiled.

Natasha and Bucky watched you dig into your cake, frosting on your cheeks and nose. You were wiping your crumbs on Peter’s shirt, both of you going back and forth with putting cake crumbs on each other. You were certainly a handful.

[buckyalpine]

Give me Beefy Bucky who is shy yet obsessed with how soft and little you are compared to him. Compared to his thick, wide shoulders. His meaty, firm thighs. His huge, heavy balls. His perfectly fat, split you in half cock.

“C‘mon bunny, put ‘em both in your mouth” he whines with puppy eyes, spreading his legs more while you nearly choke trying to fit his balls in your mouth. The delicious scent of his musk makes you moan with your mouth full, his heavy sac already throbbing. “Want you to suck them both at the same time”

“S’too big” you pout, cupping and rolling him in your palm, giving your aching jaw a break. He blushes at your words, his curved throbbing cock jumping against his belly.

“You have such a cute little mouth” he whispers with a soft smile, the pink on his cheeks deepening when you shove his thighs apart again, dipping your head to take them in your mouth, “oh fuck just like that, use that tongue, suck them nice and hard, don’t care if it hurts, suck them harder bunny”

He’s a feral little (beefy) fuck, holding your head in place while rutting himself against your face. The shallow breaths you take in between with your mouth full make his tip weep and he can’t help but reach down to stroke himself, using his thumb to spread his arousal around. When he finally can’t take it, he grabs and flips you onto your back, splitting your legs open and humping himself between your folds.

“Fuck you’re so tight bunny” he shudders above you as he pushes your thighs to your chest, folding you in half, making you hold your knees apart. He pumps his cock a few times while staring at your slick hole dripping and fluttering for him.

“Look at your little pussy” his voice is between a whine and a whisper, pressing just the head of his cock into you making you moan, his tip alone stretching you. He doesn’t even fucking move, pulling it back out and pushing just the head in, his lil caught between his teeth watching his perfect pink tip disappear in and out. “How are you gonna take all of me bunny,you’re already stretched open”

He’s not even taunting you. He’s blushing so much because he can feel the way you quiver around him already and he isn’t even inside properly. “Can feel you sucking me in baby, you want more? That’s just the tip bunny, so sensitive for you, m’already making a mess”

“More Bucky, fuck me, please” you plead with him, pulling your knees back further, tightening around him even more.

“Oh God” he plunges himself into you without warning, drawing his hips back and slamming them back in making your body bounce with each thrust. You sob in pleasure, broken moans leaving your lips as he knocks the wind out of you with the powerful snap of his hips.

He looks feral, eyes fixated on where his cock disappears in and out with each thrust, your sweet mixed cream squirting out of you each time he shoves himself back in.

“Look at the mess we’re making together baby. So. Fucking. Pretty. You’re so pretty when you’re all stretched open bunny, pussy was made for my cock, you take big dick so well, you’re such a good girl, my good girl made for fat cock”

You nearly wail as he speeds up, panting and grunting, your belly bulging each time. He’s sitting back on his heels so he can watch exactly how much your pussy opens up for him, that needy button between your legs equally desperate for attention.

“Why’s are you so tight around my dick baby, can’t even last when I fuck you” he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to try and collect himself but it’s pointless. His cock starts to swell, drops of cum already starting to spurt out. He’s trying so hard to hold back but his body can’t stop moving, chasing the way your pussy chokes his length.

“M’mph-gonna cum-“ he chokes out, his movements growing sloppy and erratic, the bed banging the wall. “Gonna pump you full of cum baby, gonna make you wet the bed with how much cum drips of you”

“Cum in me Bucky” your nails dig in his shoulders, gasping when he sits back and spits onto your clit before rubbing it in circles.

“Such a cute little button making you scream so loud, you sound so beautiful like this” he gives it a pinch and you shatter around him, desperate squeals making him moan louder.

“Gonna milk my cock dry, gonna give you a thick load baby, there’s so much cum in my balls, in my dick, I can’t hold it, it’s so swollen, S-o sensitive- FUCKKK” he lets out a broken sob as he starts to throb ropes and ropes of his warm spend in you, the sheets soaking what your pussy can’t hold.

“Got the sheets all wet bunny, can feel it on my thighs-

Anyway. As always I’m sorry for this.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)

word count: 16.4k 😬

warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket. 

Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.

Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster. 

It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes. 

"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."

Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.

"Dinner is booked.”

“You’re really doing it huh?"

“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.

The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other. 

Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"

Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."

Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."

"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."

Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him. 

“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side. 

“Never?”

Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”

“Tomorrow night?"

"Ironbar."

Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."

Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.

❁ ❁ ❁

The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk. 

Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”

“No...”

“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them. 

Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.” 

“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold. 

“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room. 

“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.” 

“Now that’s bullshit.”

“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”

Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that. 

“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do. 

“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”

Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?” 

Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. 

Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job. 

“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude. 

“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”

And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision. 

What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them. 

Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now. 

Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year. 

There was just one problem. 

He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes. 

Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist. 

So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again. 

The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event. 

Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem. 

Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.

Well, that had to change now. 

Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors. 

“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”

Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail. 

“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”

“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”

Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor. 

“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well. 

“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.  

Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”

Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought. 

“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”

“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”

“Alright, Sir.”

“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye. 

“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant. 

Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.

❁ ❁ ❁

The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them. 

The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in. 

He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water. 

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”

He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward. 

“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”

“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.

“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”

“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless. 

“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”

“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.

“Pardon me?”

You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”

“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”

“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”

“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.

“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours. 

He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.” 

“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to. 

“Wait you’re working for SPS?” 

“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body. 

Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again. 

“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden. 

You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating. 

“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind. 

“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile. 

Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you. 

“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready. 

“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.  

Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys. 

“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it. 

“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”

“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”

Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic. 

It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future. 

Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them. 

Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.

“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.

“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder. 

“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.

❁ ❁ ❁

The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world. 

To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea. 

“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?

Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.

Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen. 

“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.” 

Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.” 

Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office. 

She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”

“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant. 

Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary. 

“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”

He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”

“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”

Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”

“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”

Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.” 

And so you did. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen. 

It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh. 

‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’ 

Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat. 

You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened. 

There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.

“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside. 

Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet. 

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”

“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly. 

“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath. 

“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”

Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that. 

“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.” 

Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal. 

Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation. 

“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato. 

“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”

Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been. 

Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer. 

After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises. 

There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.

On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.

He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door. 

Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain. 

“He’s very admirable for that.” 

You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”

The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”

“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”

The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional. 

“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face. 

“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“

“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep. 

“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”

You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now. 

“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head. 

“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”

“Here? Alone?”

“Yes.” 

Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“

“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”

“Doll...”

“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.” 

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside. 

You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar. 

“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”

The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.

“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”

“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous. 

“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.

“How do you know?”

You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought. 

“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”

He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop. 

“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled. 

“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home. 

It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.

So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right. 

In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.  

A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod. 

“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.

“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table. 

“That bad, huh?”

His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown. 

“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”

Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.” 

“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.

He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”

Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”

Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 

“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day. 

A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.

About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched. 

“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”

The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?

And honestly? You didn’t know. 

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”

“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?” 

Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known. 

By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand. 

The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.

You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower. 

“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home. 

“How?”

“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes. 

Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door. 

“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...” 

You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest. 

Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.

After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek. 

When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself. 

“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”

Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”

❁ ❁ ❁

To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him. 

You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen. 

It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug. 

Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer. 

“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.

“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed. 

“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”

Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”

“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture. 

Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”

“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.

And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away. 

Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking. 

Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body. 

“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”

“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all. 

“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly. 

“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”

A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”

Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it. 

Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”

You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless. 

You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.  

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day. 

But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You. 

“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence. 

“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair. 

Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided. 

A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”

He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him. 

Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you. 

That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him. 

It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you. 

Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day. 

“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve. 

“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”

“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”

Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us. 

“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind. 

He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.

“Always.”

“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.

Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”

“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”

How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve. 

“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face. 

“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.

“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”

“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed. 

They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”

“What?” He faced him again. 

“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”

“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected. 

“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”

Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered. 

He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you. 

With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same. 

❁ ❁ ❁

There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again. 

Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew. 

“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.  

“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”

“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent. 

“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.” 

“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”

Oh, hell no.

“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”

“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”

A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”

“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”

“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”

Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer. 

“Name one.”

“Me.”

The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?” 

Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?

Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”

Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again. 

“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”

Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet. 

“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight. 

“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.

“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head. 

“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”

About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile. 

“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla. 

“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat. 

“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”

You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”

“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop. 

“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?” 

“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”

You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”

“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name. 

“How did you know?”

His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”

“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile. 

"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”

Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”

Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”

Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”

You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.

You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted. 

“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”

“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth. 

“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again. 

Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings. 

“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!

Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions. 

It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.

“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”

“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”

“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”

“No.”

Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire. 

“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time. 

Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future. 

He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed. 

“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky. 

“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out. 

“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away. 

Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them. 

Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”

“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them. 

“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off. 

“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”

His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”

What the actual fuck?

“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now. 

“Look at you growing all protective.”

“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth. 

A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it. 

“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”

And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome. 

“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”

“What?”

“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.

“Is... is this about the other day?”

Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”

“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”

There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.

“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.

“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”

Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it. 

Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city? 

But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”

A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement. 

“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose. 

He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours. 

Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.

Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer. 

You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint. 

Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect. 

“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him. 

You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating. 

But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans. 

“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath. 

In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear. 

If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you. 

Why?

Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time. 

So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”

“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you. 

“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.

Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips. 

After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern. 

“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise. 

“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”

“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”

And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.

He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him. 

“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”

You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them. 

“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.

You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers. 

“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”

You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest. 

He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy. 

“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.

“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”

“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up. 

“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap. 

“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”

“Why?”

“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it. 

“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.” 

“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”

“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.

You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip. 

He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”

“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal. 

Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then. 

You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit. 

Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult. 

It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you. 

Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy. 

“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”

“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm. 

“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”

“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance. 

He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back. 

“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.

“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.” 

Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his. 

The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs. 

His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer. 

This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth. 

He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of. 

“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy. 

You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”

Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”

You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:

Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞

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also tagging my steve tags (for everyone who wanted an update on Bambi) 🤗 :

[thevillainswhore]

New Tricks

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead

What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular. 

Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.

Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne

Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗

These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️

New Tricks Masterlist

I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door. 

“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time,  when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.  

Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck. 

The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again. 

Excellent, you inwardly sigh.

“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting  internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level.  “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.” 

Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck.  Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows. 

Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”

His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?” 

No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind. 

“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.” 

The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes. 

“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.” 

You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation. 

Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic. 

“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?” 

Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–” 

You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.

Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”

Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning. 

“What the shit–“ 

The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?” 

In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!” 

Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.” 

The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”

“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.  

The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all. 

And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?” 

Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids. 

“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”

Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed. 

“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.” 

It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone. 

You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?” 

You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“

“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over. 

Had he been listening that whole time? 

Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky  may have made was a burden you did not want to bear,  and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”

Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.” 

The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”

His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.  

With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.  

“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”

The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”

Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump. 

You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose.  “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”

With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off. 

Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips. 

Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door. 

With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”

Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.  

Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”

He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”

You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.  

“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?” 

The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”

You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.” 

Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf. 

The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?” 

“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”

You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”

“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom. 

Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”

“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you. 

A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.  

The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence. 

Though, it is short lived. 

Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand. 

A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works. 

“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off. 

You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before… 

“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”

A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious. 

His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you. 

“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”

The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats. 

Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?” 

You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”

The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet. 

Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.

“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”

“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.  

Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company. 

This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence. 

Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone. 

“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content. 

“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”

“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets. 

“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.

The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.

“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.

Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.  

That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself. 

“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?” 

You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV. 

“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.” 

The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.” 

Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.” 

Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”

“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.” 

You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”

Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it. 

Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”  

Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”

“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!” 

He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?” 

“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.  

“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”

His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”

Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night. 

There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus. 

Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”  

Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing. 

“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”

“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”

“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”

A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”

“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.” 

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” 

His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face. 

Okay, you think privately, so what? 

Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt. 

If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”

“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”

Now that catches you off guard. 

Bucky… is a virgin? 

Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match. 

Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression. 

“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”

No other words come to mind. 

When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts. 

You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully. 

The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him. 

Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession. 

It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands,  and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty. 

From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer. 

Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past.  And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket. 

What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?

To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs. 

Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees. 

“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.  

The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical. 

You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”

“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.” 

“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting. 

You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”

He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“

“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”

“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.

“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”

You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.

“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”

“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through. 

Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek. 

This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance. 

You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.

He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”

“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap. 

That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth. 

There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves. 

Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face. 

“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.

There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek. 

“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.

Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”

The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes. 

Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.  

“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session. 

Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.

“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.  

You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.

“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension. 

A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time. 

Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.  

The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close. 

But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard. 

The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly. 

Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before. 

You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another. 

It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you. 

And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–” 

To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.  

Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries. 

You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.

The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss. 

You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move. 

Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous. 

It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”

Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”

Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”

Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.

“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.” 

You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin. 

The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet. 

The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt  — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.

Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.  

“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”

“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”

You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”

The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn. 

“Wha– Fuck!”

You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it. 

The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.

Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release. 

You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the  loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle. 

Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.

Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck. 

You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently. 

“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”

Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him. 

You can’t have that, though. 

Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go. 

It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in. 

You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?” 

Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.” 

“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.  

You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.” 

The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”

Something snaps within him. 

The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure. 

To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop. 

“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”

“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!” 

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed. 

“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”

The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat. 

The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”

Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness. 

After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”

“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material. 

Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”

“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.

The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”

Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”

“But–” Bucky tries. 

“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”

His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”

“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”

The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces. 

It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”

You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands. 

And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair. 

You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.

“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.” 

You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only– 

“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala. 

“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”

But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?” 

That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes. 

You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”

Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away. 

With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”

The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky. 

“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”

“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”

You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”

The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall.  “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”

A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive. 

“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.” 

That meant only one person was responsible. 

Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.  

Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night. 

I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake. 

Love ya squirt, 

Your big bro.

“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.

P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x 

Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again. 

“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”

Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain. 

Part Two, Part Three

[marvelouslizzie]

One More Night

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, friends with benefits, idiots in love, unspoken feelings, miscommunication/misunderstandings, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.4K

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

It is one of those days when you feel absolutely worthless. It wasn’t something you felt often before but now…. It is starting to feel like your new normal. You know it’s your fault, and it just makes you feel even worse. You let this happen when you let Bucky Barnes walk into your life without any consequences. Now he just has a free pass to destroy you anytime he wants. 

It was supposed to be just fun. Something casual because you know he has no intention of settling down. Especially not with you. Not that he said any of those words but he doesn’t need to. You just know it. 

He’s one of the popular guys in your college. It’s not surprising considering how handsome and charming he is. He’s also talented and hard-working. He takes school seriously unlike a lot of people around you. So when it comes to his free time, he just wants to have some fun, no strings attached and you were fine with this arrangement. You wanted to be close to him and this is the price: Your heart breaks every time. 

You don’t blame him but you definitely blame yourself because you put yourself in this position. If you weren’t so pathetic, you could simply say no and this regularly hooking-up arrangement of yours would have ended. Yet you never said no and he never stopped coming back to you. Probably because it’s convenient, you can’t come up with any other reason. Like who says no to an easy fuck, right? That is what you are. An easy fuck. Still, it’s breaking your heart every time he leaves your bed. You say to yourself “This is gonna be the last time” but when the next text or call comes, you fold once again. 

That’s how you ended up here. Your face is buried in the pillow while Bucky is pounding you from behind. It feels good. Actually, it feels pretty amazing. It always does but this time your emotions are overshadowing the physical pleasure. Tears are streaming down your face and you are grateful that he can’t see it thanks to this position. Then a sob escapes your mouth and you feel betrayed by your own body.

“Does it feel that good, doll?” He sounds smug but you can’t answer him. Not while trying to hold the rest of your sobs back. That seems to worry him. He suddenly stops and when he takes a closer look sees that your eyes are filled with tears.

“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” He sounds genuinely worried. You try to say something but instead, more sobs come out. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”

He didn’t physically hurt you, yet you are hurt. You don’t know how to explain this to him. You feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. You pride yourself on how good you are at hiding your emotions. You don’t want anyone to see you cry. You don’t want anyone’s pity. Yet here you are. Eyes filled with tears, sobs escaping your lips and your heart is shattered.

“Please talk to me!” His desperate tone snaps you out of your thoughts. You try to turn on your back and quickly dry your tears. 

“It’s fine. Sorry for killing the mood. I just…” You hesitate for a second but no, you won’t back down this time. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s fine.” That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “You know it’s okay right?” His worry is so apparent in his voice. “You can always tell me to stop.” What is he talking about? “If you don’t like something or you don’t feel like it anymore… Just tell me next time and I will just stop.”

“There’s no next time Bucky.” The words come out of your mouth before you can process them. You didn’t intend to be so harsh but it came out so definite.

“What?”

“I’m telling you that I can’t do this…” You wave your hand between you two. “...anymore. I’m done. We are done.” 

“What…” He sounds shocked and hurt at the same time. You try to avoid looking at his eyes while he struggles to find the right words. “What are you talking about? Did I do something?”

“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault.” You have no intention to blame him. You know it’s on you. He never promised you anything.

“I don’t understand.” He sounds so lost. “Just help me understand what happened, okay? I thought everything was okay.”

“They were, for you. It was never okay for me.” 

You watch how his expression changes into something that breaks your heart even more. You never thought he would care this much but… apparently, he does. Maybe he’s not used to being rejected. Especially in the middle of sex.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” He looks at your face and then around. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

“What I wanted?” You repeat his words without missing a beat. “I never wanted this. This is what you wanted and that’s why we kept doing it. I was just…” You hesitate for a second because you hate to admit it. “weak.”

“Weak? You are never weak.”

“Oh, I am weak. This is why I kept saying ‘one more night’ to myself whenever you called or texted me. I’m weak as fuck and it makes me angry, okay? I shouldn’t be like this.”

“Doll, what are you talking about?”

His confusion confuses you as well. Can’t he see how much he’s hurting you? Is he really that blind or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“This arrangement might be working for you but it’s not working for me, okay?”

“But… this is what you wanted.”

“I never wanted this.”

“You said we can’t get emotions involved!” He sounds somewhat angry this time.

“Because you didn’t want emotions involved!” Your answer comes instantly.

“When did I ever say that?”

His question makes you stop for a second. He never said that but did he really have to? You know how popular he is. Everybody loves him. He has the prettiest face you have ever seen. You desperately wanted to be with him. You didn’t care how.

“Just look at you.”

“What does that even mean?” Is he doing this on purpose? He surely knows everybody wants him. Why does he have to hear it from you?

“It means you didn’t have to say it.”

“How does… I really don’t understand you.” His confusion is written all over his face. The way he hesitates makes you realize you have to say it out loud to make him understand.

“You are handsome. You are talented. Everybody loves you.” He keeps looking at you with confusion. He really doesn’t get it, does he? “You can have anybody you want!”

“Apparently not.” Why does he sound broken?

“Oh, come on!” Your reaction is instant. “You know you can. Don’t act humble. I’m just easier.”

“Easier?” You don’t miss the disbelief in his voice. “Easier?” This time it comes out more angry. “You were never easy!”

“You know what I mean. An easy fu-”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” The tone of his voice startles you. You never heard him talk like this. “I never wanted just an easy fuck. Especially not with you but that was all I could get!” Your head flinches back slightly. What is he talking about? 

“Bucky…” He doesn’t let you continue. 

“I don’t know what has gotten into you because this… what you called it? Arrangement, yes, was never my idea! You were the one who didn’t want to involve emotions. You were the one who said anything more than this would affect our friendship. I never said that!”

“I was trying to protect myself!”

“You never showed any interest to me!”

You blink a couple of times, trying to process that information. What did he think you were doing with him?

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You never showed any interest in staying over. You never wanted to do anything outside the bedroom or wherever the fuck we were fucking. Whenever I tried to take you on a date, you came up with a lazy excuse.”

“Uh… what?”

“I tried so many times, sweetheart. You never let me in. You were only interested in sex and now you are blaming me for it. No. Be honest. If you wanna end this thing, it’s fine. You don’t need any lies. I get it. I knew it would happen eventually.” He’s speaking so fast, you can’t even find any opportunity to interrupt him until he stops.

“You tried to take me on dates?” He squishes his eyebrows together like he can’t believe you are focusing on that part.

“Many times. I suggested study dates, tried to take you on that concert, then that one comedy club thing…”

“I thought…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence.

“You thought what? You knew what I was trying to do and you weren’t interested, so I finally gave up.”

“No, no, no.” You jump from your awkward position on the bed. “I never realized.”

“What did you think I was doing?”

“I thought… they were activities with other… people. Not dates.”

“Why would I take other people to a concert with us?” Oh, he really doesn’t get it.

“I thought… you had plans with your friends and… you were… inviting me as well. Just to show… we are nothing more than friends.”

“Oh, dear god.” He covers his face with both of his hands. “Seriously? Why would you even think that?”

You mimic him and cover your face with embarrassment. You don’t want to say it. Especially not to him.

“I… just never thought…” You don’t know how to say it without making him realize how low you think of yourself. “You were interested in anything more than sex.”

“I’m handsome. I’m popular. Everybody loves me. Is that why?” He repeats your words with that god-awful mocking tone and it hurts to hear. What you don’t realize is that he’s making fun of himself.

“Yeah.” Your response comes out so weakly but he hears it.

He starts to laugh all of a sudden and all you can do is give him a confused look. 

“God you are so blind.”

“Hey!” You instantly respond.

“Have you ever looked in the mirror?” You make a face but it just spurs him. “You are gorgeous and smart. I always thought you were way out of my league.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You are out of my league.”

“Come on… That’s-” He interrupts you again.

“Please.” The way he says it makes you stop talking. “I have been struggling to come to terms with you not liking me. I just told myself, you have done everything you can. You tried so many times. It’s a miracle she still wants to fuck you. I convinced myself this was all I could get so I tried to make peace with it. Now you are telling me you don’t want to keep doing this. What did you think I was gonna think?”

He just baffles you with every word coming out of his mouth. You look at him, not knowing what to say or what to think, even.

“And you thought you were just an easy fuck? Jesus, doll. Do you have any idea how many times I prepared myself for rejection? Every time I called you, I thought you weren’t gonna pick up. Every time I texted you, I prepared myself to hear ‘no’, and every time it did not come, I was the happiest man on earth because I had one more night with you!”

You don’t know when it started but you start to feel tears filling your eyes.

“Please don’t cry anymore.” He moves his hand on your face and catches a tear before it drops on your cheeks.

“I…” It’s so hard to speak normally. “I never thought…”

“What?” This time it comes out softer. You know he wants to hear it because he needs that assurance as much as you do.

“You would actually like me.”

“Like you? Oh, doll… I don’t like you. The word like doesn’t even cover it.” The smile he gives you ignites something inside you. Something you tried to push down for a long time. Suddenly you push him back a little bit and his mouth falls open but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything. You just sit on his lap, taking him back inside you and it slips right back in so easily. It makes you want to moan out loud but instead, you wrap your legs around his torso and trap him there.

“Oh fuck…” His moan is like music to your ears. It’s so raw and unfiltered.

You don’t say anything. Your hand wraps around his neck before you start to move. His hand quickly finds your breasts, squeezing them a lot harder than he ever did before. 

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your neck and his lips attach to your neck as if he knows what you want. He starts gently. First, he sucks the skin and makes you whimper. Then his teeth graze the sore skin. When he finally bites the same spot, you realize he was just giving you some time to protest but it never came. His bite pulls a groan out of you and the way it hurts falters your rhythm.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He licks the same spot, trying to soothe the pain. “There’s a part of me…” He tries to find the right word. “...that wants to mark you. Show the world that you’re mine.” Fuck, is he serious? He stops for another second to ask “Are you mine, doll?” He sounds so nervous yet possessive.

“I am.” You move a little back and look into his eyes while saying that. “I have been for a long time.”

He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, making you burn with passion.

“I’m yours, too. I think I always have been.” 

It’s your turn to show how much those words mean to you. You start to move again on his lap. This time it’s faster than before and it just makes both of you moan loudly. He wraps his arms around your body while he supports your movement by grabbing your ass and moving you a bit faster than before.

“Shit!” It feels good but it also restricts your range of movement and he realizes it quickly.

“Sorry. I just want to feel you all over me.”

You want to say it’s alright but he’s a lot faster than you. Suddenly you find yourself on your back. Bucky’s still between your legs. He never left inside you while changing the position. 

“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” 

God, the way he says it sounds like a soft order. You can practically feel the desire running through your veins. Your legs are automatically wrapped around his ass while he starts to move but he doesn’t put any distance between you. His whole body is pressed against yours while he’s kissing and licking all over your neck.

Sex with Bucky never felt like this. It was always good. You don’t remember any occasion you didn’t enjoy it or reach orgasm. Yet this feels like real intimacy. The way he’s making you feel is indescribable. You can feel everything he said before while he moves inside you. How much he wants you, how much he adores you… The way he clings to you fills you with love. All of it enhances the physical pleasure. Loud moans escape your lips.

“So… All this time…” Bucky starts to talk. “You thought I was here because this is easy.”

Ah, fuck. He isn’t gonna let that go, is he? You should’ve known that. You roll your eyes in response but he doesn’t see it. His head is still buried in the crook of your neck.

“All this time… I was where I wanted to be.” Your annoyance quickly fades away as he keeps talking. “Underneath your body.”

“You weren’t always underneath me.” You answer him with a playful tone.

“As long as I’m inside you, the position doesn’t matter.”

“So…” You try to ask as quickly as possible before your sudden courage disappears. “You haven’t been sleeping around with anyone else.”

He raises his head just to look into your eyes. 

“All this time, you thought I was fucking other people?”

“I mean…” You were just friends with benefits. What else you were supposed to assume?

“Were you?”

“Was I what?”

“Fucking other people?” His question is a lot more blunt than yours.

“I asked first!” You sound so defensive all of a sudden.

“I can’t live without touching you, smelling you, feeling you… I have been craving you non-stop, only stopping myself from calling you every day, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and you are asking me if I have been fucking other people. Jesus Christ, doll. How blind are you?”

You are questioning the same thing yourself, to be honest. How blind were you? While trying to surpass your feelings, you were overlooking his, as well. It’s just unbelievable.

“Doll?” You didn’t realize you were lost in thoughts. “It’s fine if you have been.” It doesn’t sound fine at all. It sounds like he’s trying to rationalize it so it would hurt less. “I’m not saying I won’t be jealous but it’s not like we were actually together.”

You start to laugh and he gives you a strange look.

“You are such an idiot and you call me blind.”

“What?”

“I only ever wanted you, you moron.” 

His smile is so big and bright, it’s worth everything you two went through. His happiness is practically radiating. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you like a madman.

“You’re only mine.” He starts to move inside you again and you can feel how close you are to coming.

“Only yours.” Your words make him groan loudly. 

“Fuck that mouth of yours. You’re gonna make me come before you.”

“You can do that later.” You tease him while moving your hips to meet him.

“Is that a promise?”

“It can be. Only if you fuck me just a little harder so I can finally come!”

That makes him move away from you. He stands up and without losing any time, pulls you on the edge of the bed. You know what’s coming and it makes you smile like a fool. He positions himself between your legs while pushing your knees on your chest. In a couple of seconds, he’s back inside you but the position feels so much better this time. A loud moan leaves your lips every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.

“Harder, huh?”

“Yeah. Just like that.” It’s so hard to not roll your eyes with the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s familiar yet it feels so different this time.

“My girl wants it rough. Why didn’t you just say so?” He sounds cocky there’s also a hint of eagerness in his voice. You can tell he’s close.

“Do I have to tell you everything?” 

“From now on, yes. You have to tell me everything.” That authoritative tone pushes you over the edge. “Every fucking thing you feel, okay? Every fucking thing you want. I wanna know everything!”

“Yes!” You practically scream. You don’t know if you are answering him or just screaming because of the way he makes you feel. Your legs are shaking violently while your whole body tightens up. “Fuck yes. Please, please, please, don’t stop!” Your eyes are closed while you are riding your high.

That makes him groan so loudly. Even though you can’t directly look at his face anymore, you just know he’s about to come. He starts to pound on you so forcefully, it just unlocks another level of orgasm for you. Both of your moans fill the room and he keeps going until he empties himself inside you. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of you and lays right next to you.

“Fuck, that was…” The struggles to find the right word.

“On another level?” You offer to end the sentence for him. That’s exactly how you feel.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “We should’ve talked to each other before.”

“We were busy doing other stuff.” You smile and he smiles back, knowing exactly what you mean.

“I guess we did everything other than talking things through, huh?”

[jiarkives]

can you watch my boyfriend for me?

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — you do the trend where you ask your followers to watch your boyfriend.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — bucky barnes (marvel)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — fluff

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — pretend they’re still in the tower,,, no endgame au; they’re all happy and alive 🤭 this piece is shorter i just wanted to write

~

Whenever you scroll on TikTok, you would come across videos where the user would ask their followers and viewers to watch their boyfriend for them. You find every video adorable and wholesome, so you decided to try it on your 107-year-old boyfriend, who is currently eating his breakfast alone. Perfect.

You approach your unsuspecting boyfriend with the video already rolling, then you place the phone in front of him. “Can you watch my boyfriend for me while I do my business? Thanks, you guys.” Then you’re gone before he could even get a word in.

He looks back to where you walked off before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks over to the camera with his awkward but lovable smile.

“Guess you’re all stuck with me... whoever you are.” His brows then furrow. “Wait, are you even there? I don’t know. I’ve been getting the hang of these newer technology, but... they’re tricky, you know?”

He shrugs, eating a spoonful of cereal, his eyes lighting up slightly as he turns his bowl towards the camera. “Oreos as cereals.” He snorts.

“I wonder what’s taking her so long,” he mumbles with a worried frown. “What if it’s the time of her month? She’ll tell me, right?”

But you don’t come and somewhere during the video, Steve appears with Sam as they come back from their run. The video becomes more chaotic and noisier with Steve and Sam, but they quickly leave after a few minutes and he’s alone again. And you still hasn’t come back.

As the video hit its ten minute mark, you come back with a grin, taking your phone and speaking, “Thanks, guys!”

Once the video is turned off, Bucky turns to you with his brows drawn together in concern. “Is it your time of the month?”

Bonus — comments:

User 1: he was nice didn’t try to bite 10/10 i will watch again

User 2: he brought friends over when you left is that okay???

User 3: dude!!! i babysat the avengers!!! wait til my friends hear about this

[downbadf0rficppl]

pink in the night

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Porn with a bit of plot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, soft Buck, SMUT!!!!

AN: Sorry y'all! It's kinda a bit shit but listen, it's self-indulgent so idc :) This is kinda inspired by 'Pink in the Night' by Mitski which I was listening to while writing this. Have a good rest of the week, y'all <3

Repost

Bucky had a love-hate relationship with being your neighbour. On the one hand, he loved seeing your face as you left your room every morning, hair not yet slicked to perfection, and sleep still evident on your face. You seemed a lot more innocent in the morning - conversations more idle.

On the other hand - and perhaps as a downside to his more sensitive hearing - you drove him crazy with the knowledge of things that perhaps he wasn't supposed to know.

This night was no different. You had headed off to bed after a long day, bidding everyone in the kitchen a good night. You grabbed a water bottle before slipping into the elevator, Bucky not far behind. You stepped out of the elevator together and you wished him sweet dreams before slipping into your room. Oh, his dreams were going to be far from sweet.

You see, your beds were pushed up to opposite sides of the same wall, so he could hear you relax on your bed. He could hear you shuffle to strip into just your underwear, and how your hand slipped into your panties. He could hear how your breath hitched as you circled your clit, and your soft moans as you plunged your fingers into your cunt or as your vibrator dipped in between your folds.

He could almost envisage you doing it - a forbidden porno that took root in his mind every night that he heard you finger yourself to completion. The rosy pink flush that you would glow as you came all over your hand. Your heavy rise and fall of your chest as you came down from your high. The small smile that would adorn your face as rolled over to fall asleep - the oxytocin released coursing through your veins.

He felt disgusting as he did - one of those creeps that he intended to protect you from for the rest of his life. But after you'd fallen asleep, he'd hop into the shower to cool his body and his mind - to throw the detestable thoughts of you to the far corners of his mind. But as he fell asleep, you'd re-enter his mind in a different way. A more safe-for-work way. You'd be in his arms, cuddling him and whispering sweet words of encouragement. You'd be cooking him dinner while he told you funny stories about his life with scrawny Steve in the 40s; he'd be washing the dishes while you sat on the counter tell him about your day. He'd worry for your well-being - not as an overbearing coworker but as a loving, doting boyfriend. Maybe husband.

Bucky was getting ahead of himself - he'd have to work up the courage to have more than a few-word conversation with you. But for now, wishing he could hold your hand would have to suffice.

Being Bucky's neighbour was not much easier. Especially when he was completely oblivious to your plight. Even the slight brush of a hand made your heart flutter.

You loved seeing him early in the morning - he always seemed less reserved when he was fresh from a good night's rest. He was faster to smile, faster to laugh. It was nice. You woke up at an ungodly hour to see him just before he headed on his morning run. You couldn't deny that the morning light did wonders for him - you were always left wanting more when he dipped into the elevator.

Oh, and the sounds. Your hearing was not quite as superior as Bucky's, but you definitely heard things that left you clenching around thin air.

You knew Bucky wasn't one to self-complete often - in fact, it was rare that you ever caught on to the act. But you had caught the odd broken moan coming from his room. You turned into molten mush, the weight of your arousal buckling your knees. If there was any sound that could turn you to putty, it was that.

You didn't how many times the idea of Bucky fucking you had played through your mind, but each night a different variation brought you the same ending - your fingers deep in your cunt, coaxing you to a climax.

Every night, you wished his cock, tongue, fingers were filling you up instead of yours, leaving you aching and wishing for more. You wanted to run your nails down his back - leaving permanent reminders of your love for him - while he nipped at your neck - leaving marks claiming you as his.

Sometimes, your brain caught up to your thoughts, reprimanding you for your possessiveness. He wasn't yours, you had to remind yourself, even if you wished he was. For that, you'd have to actually have to have more than a few-word conversation with him - which to be honest, seemed impossible. So you stuck to your nightly wishful dreaming, hoping one day he'd be yours. Only yours.

Summer was the worst for Bucky. You were the type to spend hours upon hours out in the sun, coming back with a budding tan and rosy complexion - it did nothing to quell the budding images flashing in the back of his mind. You. Under him. Panting. Moaning his name as he brought you to the edge. Over and over again. Face glowing pink as you gaze up into his eyes, drunk on love and his cock. Bucky had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.

It didn't help that the clothing you wore did nothing to help his imagination. The semi-sheer tops, the shorts, the swimsuit and bikinis. Every time he saw you, he immediately had to duck back inside to deal with 'a little problem'. More like a very large, very hard, and very obvious problem.

Still, he enjoyed your company more than he had for the better part of his time living in the compound. He listened to your stories, your jokes, helped solve your issues. He felt that - even if you weren't quite what he wanted you to be - your relationship was blossoming into something quite beautiful. And that made him feel a lot braver - he introduced a little comment here and there, a hand always on your waist or the small of your back. He flirted with you from time to time: just to gauge a meter on your reactions, he'd tell himself, as if this was an experiment to crack a hypothesis that had been perplexing scientists for years.

The sun was peaking over the top of the trees surrounding the compound when you woke up. That was a rarity in summer, given that the sun rose at nearly 5am. Still, you didn't miss out on the opportunity to watch the sunrise, curling up on your windowsill with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

You heard Bucky opening his door, and you ran towards yours, grabbing your phone and slippers on your way. You opened your door just as he closed his. He was dressed in gym wear - as always - since he was going on his morning run around the compound track. It was a nice track - one that you rarely frequented - going in and out of the forest behind the compound, totalling about 4.5 miles in distance.

He took you in, eyes bulging as they raked over you. You looked down, following his gaze. Shit. In your rush to see Bucky, you'd forgotten that your nightwear had consisted of some flimsy shorts and your bra - that you had thrown on after waking up to save a modicum of dignity, should someone burst into your room. It was too hot for anything else. You crossed your arms over your chest, which indefinitely made the issue worse as Bucky's eyes lifted way over your head.

"Looking good, babe!" Nat yells, walking across the landing toward you both. Clearly, Bucky had been intending to go on a run with her, maybe fit in a quick sparring session. You sent them on their way, with a 'have fun' and 'don't have too much fun.'

As soon as you were back in the comfort of your room, Nat elbowed Bucky hard.

"Oww! What the fuck was that for?" Rubbing his metal arm, for the convincing act.

"Oh please, you big baby. You have a fucking metal arm, get over yourself." She looked down, "You have a bit of a situation going on down there."

He looks down, embarrassment flushing his cheeks bright red, and subtly tucked his hard dick into his waistband.

"You wanna go sort that out? I won't hold it against you," Nat said, hitting the button to call the lift, "I promise not to tell Stark. Scout's honour." She jokingly holds up 3 fingers. Bucky swats her arm gently.

"No point."

Nat gasps, "No way. Don't tell me Mr. Winter Soldier can't have sex."

"Not sex," Bucky mumbles, "Just jerking off. Can't seem to - you know - finish."

Bucky had a history with Nat. They'd known each other for years. That kind of history made this kind of conversation somewhat less uncomfortable.

Nat burst into laughter. So much for not being uncomfortable.

The lift stopped on Sam's floor. He stepped in, gazing warily at the scene in front of him: the Black Widow doubled over in laughter, and the Winter Soldier embarrassed and uncomfortable in the corner.

He begged to be let in on the joke. Nat wheezed between laughs, "He - can't - fucking - cum!" Bursting into another bout of laughter, with Sam close behind, Bucky jumps out on the next floor, heading to the roof for some fresh air. He catches you up there, trying out some morning yoga. He sneaks up behind you as your stand up, grabbing your waist. You shriek, hitting him hard in the chest, before melting into his embrace once your brain caught up to the situation.

"Not fair!" You pouted, pausing your peaceful music, "Yoga's supposed to be peaceful!"

Bucky chuckles, pulling you into another hug, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck.

"I thought you were going on a run with Nat?" You whispered into his ear, your cheek resting on his clavicle.

"She ditched me for Sam." Bucky opted to leave out the real reason why he had left Nat and Sam in pieces in the elevator.

"Sucks to be you, Barnes!" You laugh pulling away and stepping back onto your mat. "Now leave me alone - just 'cause your friends abandoned you, doesn't mean you can bother me."

Bucky pouted, causing you to laugh before you turned back to your Yoga. He stood there and watched you for a minute, before heading back down to the gym. He strung up a punching bag, before wrapping his flesh wrist. Bucky took all his pent-up aggression and frustration out on the punching bag, allowing no respite between each jab, cross, and hook.

He stayed in the gym for over 3 hours, working every bit of stress out of his body. By the time he left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and a long day of paperwork and training awaited. Bucky headed up to his room for a quick shower - washing all the sweat off his body.

He felt lighter heading downstairs for breakfast - the weight of his arousal pushed far back in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

Since deciding he would pursue you honestly, he couldn't seem to finish, no matter how hard he tried. You had been the only thing to push him over the edge - it seemed his body couldn't do it without you. It was frustrating beyond belief. He'd tried other things, porn, erotica, even thinking back to good times before the war. Nothing helped. It was as if his body was finetuned to you - only you knew the magic password to release him. Figuratively and literally.

When he reached the kitchen, he was privy to a welcome sight. You, in your combat gear, grabbing some granola bars before you jumped on the quinjet. You and Stark were heading on a surveillance mission in Guatemala for the week. You were reaching up to the top shelf, stretching on your tiptoes for the expensive granolas that had been kept on the top shelf. Bucky's granola bars that he had put there to stop anyone else from stealing them.

He reached up from behind you and grabbed the box, placing it in your hands. You looked guilty. You'd been caught red-handed.

"It's fine, doll. Take as many as you want." He said, leaning back against the counter, resting on his forearms. Your face flushed red as you grabbed 2 or 3, shoving them into your bag and turning around to fill up your water bottle.

You shivered when his hot breath fanned across your exposed neck, "Just remember that you owe me."

He was gone by the time you turned around.

The rumour had spread like wildfire while you were away.

"Did you hear that Bucky can't have sex?"

"I heard that Bucky can't - you know - cum?"

"Apparently, his time at Hydra fucked him up worse than he realised."

"He can't even masturbate you know?"

The rumours were getting out of hand, but he let them swirl. There was an ounce of truth to them, even if Hydra had nothing to do with his current predicament.

No, that blame could only lie with you.

When you got back, Bucky had just left on a 4-day-long mission with Sam - which meant you heard all the rumours and Bucky wasn't there to defend himself.

You heard it first when you dropped your suit off for dry-cleaning. One of the tech guys was whispering to Marta, the woman who looked after the dry cleaning of suits, about Bucky's apparent inability to ejaculate. You were shocked. Where the hell did they even get that information? You dropped off your suit and headed back up to your room to shower.

You then heard another mention of it when you went to drop off your reports. Two of the agents that were being reassigned to Steve's team - that were currently on a month-long mission in Chad - were gossiping outside Tony's office.

" - and apparently she ran out crying. Thought she wasn't good enough for him or something along those lines. I don't know."

"Yeah, apparently the breakup was grizzly."

"I feel bad for him you know, all of the shit he went through with Hydra, and now this?"

"Yeah, man, really sucks."

Your face blushed a bright red. What the fuck? Where did this rumour even come from? You knew for a fact that Bucky hadn't had a girlfriend since living in the compound so wherever that part of the rumour came from was completely untrue.

You had to get to the bottom of this.

You spent the better part of the next 2 days collecting bits of information from conversations between people around the compound. You found out that the rumour had originated from a conversation between Nat and Sam, which an agent had overheard while they were on their run. It had been twisted as most oral stories were leading to this big misleading idea that Bucky was unable to even get it up and that he was unable to please a woman. You were sure the latter part was untrue. You'd heard the way he moaned alone in his room - you were sure that you could cum just from his moans alone. He wouldn't even need to touch you.

You didn't think the rumour would affect you when Bucky got back. After all, you knew at least some of it to be false. But when he got back, his beard grown out a little because he couldn't shave it while he was away, you felt embarrassed. Not because of his supposed 'predicament' but because you felt as if you had found out something that you maybe weren't supposed to know.

Bucky caught on quicker than you would have liked. The night after he got back, Tony had thrown a little get-together to 'celebrate midsummer'. Realistically, Tony just wanted a reason to go out and drink with his friends. You had avoided Bucky most of the night - not necessarily intentionally, but Bucky still felt slightly hurt and more than a little confused.

He caught you alone on the balcony, looking out at the stars.

"Did I do something?" He said, sneaking up behind you and making you jump. Nervousness and insecurity laced his every move, worried that he had hurt you in some way that he couldn't possibly imagine.

You shook your head violently, scared to make eye contact with him. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"What's wrong?" You turned back to face the sky, embarrassment filling your chest. He laced his metal fingers into yours, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"It's stupid."

"No, it's not. Nothing's stupid, not if it's you." Your heart fluttered at his words.

Your eyes met his steady gaze, "It's really stupid." His eyes begged you to go on, "It's just that - um - when I got back I - um - heardthisreallystupidrumourandIshouldn'thaveletitgettomebutbasically -"

Bucky placed a hand on your waist, drawing small circles, "Breathe."

"Someone said you had trouble pleasing women." You let out quietly. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he probably would have missed you. His grip on your waist tightened, "Bucky?"

"Trouble pleasing women? That's a new one." His deep voice cut you to your core. You let out a small whimper as the arousal pooled in your panties.

Bucky didn't miss that either.

He grabbed your arm and led you through the party. No one gave you a double look as he lead you into the vacant elevator, slamming your floor number and pushing you up against the wall.

"Think I can't please a woman, huh? Think again. Don't think I don't know what you think about when you cum all over your hand, whining my name under your breath." You whined lowly at his words, feeling how he pushed his hard dick perfectly in line with your throbbing pussy, "Isn't that right, slut? That's what you are, aren't you? My perfect little slut?" You moan at his degrading statement, pushing your pussy further onto his cock trying to find some friction.

"So needy," He tutted, his condescending tone only heightening your arousal. The elevator door pinged and Bucky picked you up bridal-style, kicking the door to your room open. You regularly forgot to lock it while heading down to dinner - for once, both you and Bucky were glad.

He dropped you on your bed, unceremoniously, eyes raking over you ravenously. The heat rose up your face, as you shifted under his unrelenting gaze.

"Oh baby, you don't how long I've been waiting for this." He leaned down locking your lips in a passionate kiss. His palm landed just above your knee, caressing up your leg towards your upper thigh. His hand slid under your dress, cupping your ass. He left a light squeeze, making you gasp into the kiss.

He leaned down, grabbing you with ease, flipping you both so you were straddling his waist. He tangled his flesh hand in your hair, the metal one possessively gripping your hip. He brought you down to his lips for another kiss - even when you were on top, he made sure you knew that he was in charge.

He toyed with the hem of your dress, eyes raking over you once again.

"Off."

You pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. You felt seriously underdressed, especially considering Bucky was still in his jacket. He reaches up, joining your lips in another kiss, and reaching around to remove your bra. He tosses it to the side, running his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. You moan loudly, panties soaked. He takes his time pinching and squeezing your nipples, licking and biting as he went. The alternate sensations of one warm hand and one ice-cold heighten your arousal ten-fold. You buck your hips over his jeans, the sensation of his fly between your sensitive folds throwing you into overdrive.

His grip on your waist tightened once again. "I can feel your cunt throbbing, honey." You whimpered pathetically. "Go ahead, use me to get off. I know you want to."

Your hips started bucking off their own accord, clothed pussy running over the fly of his jeans. They started slow, getting a feel for what exactly you were doing. Bucky's hands started pushing you faster, setting a faster groove. The coil in your stomach began to tighten as your bucking became more erratic. You teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Bucky stopped you.

"Beg." He restarted your pace, faster and more erratic than before.

"Please, please, please, please, Bucky, please let me cum, please..-" You babbled, tripping and stumbling through your pleas. With a searing kiss, he gives you permission.

"I love you, I love you, I love, OH-" You fall off the edge of one of the hardest orgasms you've ever had, head empty with only one thing on your mind. Bucky.

You feel Bucky manhandle your body so your back is lying on the bed and he is towering over you. He asks you if you want to go on and all you can do is nod your head vigorously.

He chuckles, "I like your enthusiasm baby, but I need words. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, YES!" You shout, breathlessly, already needing more.

He's fully naked and it's all you can do to not stare. He's definitely a well-endowed man, and he definitely has no problem getting it up.

"Like what you see?" He smirks, and you slap his thigh playfully. He pulls you further toward the edge of the bed and lines his dick up with your slick folds. He slides in slowly, holding your chin up so you keep eye contact with him. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head in satisfaction. You've never felt so full in your life. He presses into you slowly, feeling the way your tightness engulfs him, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You whimper softly as he pushes in - you never realised just how desperate you were for him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He chuckles, watching as tears leak out of your eyes. His condescending tone was back, and all it did was make you hornier. You babbled incoherently, "Gone dumb already? What a cock-drunk little slut you are."

He trails a metal finger up the side of your torso, watching the goosebumps left in its wake. You whimper again.

"Such a needy little baby. Only I can take care of you like this, right? Only me."

"Only you." You affirmed, pressing a kiss to the arm near your head.

He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming all the way back in. You screamed in pleasure, and Bucky set a brutal pace. He pinned your arms above your head with his right hand, and his left hand came to wrap around your throat. The significance of that was not lost on you. He loved you enough to not hurt you, even with his metal arm.

"I love you, baby. You know that right?" Bucky looked you deep in the eyes, "You know I love you right?"

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," You babble back, lost in the throes of passion.

Bucky found your clit with his metal hand, pressing and flicking gently. You felt your muscles tighten for a second time, and you grabbed the sheets throwing your head back as you came harder than the first time.

Bucky came moments later, deep inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself into his neck.

He chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bear hug. You stayed like that for a minute before he untangled himself from you and carried you to the bathroom.

He turned on the shower and you both stepped under it, cleaning the sweat and cum off your bodies. Your legs felt like jelly, so you leaned heavily into Bucky as he washed you off.

"Stay awake, doll, just for a second," He said, shaking you awake each time you dozed off in the shower.

Bucky pulled some of your clothes onto your body, before setting you down on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before promising to be back soon.

He snuck into his room wrapped in a towel, before throwing on the first pair of sweats he could find and dashing to the kitchen for a cup of water.

He snuck back into your room, to see you already dead asleep on the bed. He slipped under the covers, tugging you closer to his chest, and smiled.

Through your grogginess, you nuzzled into his chest. "I love you." You whispered, your lips resting against his heart.

You woke up to the sound of soft snoring in your ear and sunlight streaming through the window. You smiled. You untangled yourself from Bucky's arms, disappearing into your bathroom to pee. You wash your face and brush your teeth before diving back into Bucky's arms.

Your legs were still sore from last night, but you didn't care. You were Bucky's and Bucky was yours. The very thought put a massive smile on your face.

"What's tickled your feather this morning?" Goddamn, his morning voice was sexy. You smiled and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

Bucky smiled through the kiss. He picked you up by the thighs, carrying you while he brushed his teeth and splashed his face.

The compound was pretty silent, barely anyone was awake after drinking the night away. So, while Bucky made you pancakes for breakfast, you asked him the question, "Hey, Buck, where did the rumour come from?"

He looked at you, vaguely embarrassed, "You know that day, when me and Nat were gonna go down to train?"

You face flushed red, "When I walked out in my underwear?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "I got a hard-on, like a teenage boy."

You stifled a laugh.

"So, Nat said, do I wanna go deal with it? And I told her I couldn't."

You looked at him confused, "Why not?"

"Cause of you," he said simply. You looked at him even more confused, "You were the only thing I got get off to. I tried everything else. Porn, erotica, even thinking about old sex. Nothing worked."

You flushed red again. "Oh god, I've weirded you out, haven't I?" You broke off his impending spiral with a kiss.

"I love you." You said, placing a kiss on his bare chest.

He looked at you with such love and reverence that you felt like you might combust under his gaze.

He kissed you again and all you could think was, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

I love you, I love you, I love you.

I love you I love you I love you.

fin.

buy me a coffee