#bucky barnes and reader

[simplyholl]

Desperate Measures

Summary: When you encounter a mysterious substance during a mission, it forces you and your mission partner to get closer.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader

Warnings: Quinjet crash. Sex pollen. Smut. Slight choking. Brief fucking with a gun. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.

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You curse Nick Fury for what feels like the millionth time in the past three years. He had a "brilliant" idea, mission partners. When there was a world threat all of the Avengers would assemble. But when it came to smaller stuff like mobs, small Hydra threats, or robberies, he wanted just a few of you to take care of it.

Fury paired everyone based on their skills, their background, astrology, and other secret factors he wasn't willing to share. The idea came shortly after you joined the team, making an even number of people on the Avengers. You received copies of each other's files. You were supposed to spend most of your time with them at first to learn everything about them.

Fury wanted you to be able to almost read your mission partner's mind, to anticipate every move they made on the field. You should know them better than you know yourself. Which would have been great, except you got paired with Bucky Barnes, the former brainwashed assassin. He hated you, and you weren't even sure why. But the moment you met him, he was cold to you. He wasn't normally the friendliest anyways, but he had it out for you specifically.

He would smile and laugh with Steve and Sam. He was more guarded with the others, but he tolerated them, not you though. He fought with you all the time over nothing usually. So three years ago when Fury assigned you to be his mission partner, Bucky was furious. He complained to Fury, trying to switch. Fury immediately shot him down. He told him if he didn't like it, there was the door. After Steve talked to him, he begrudgingly accepted his fate.

You fought more often than not, an occurrence the other Avengers were used to. You’d argue the whole way on a mission. But when you were working together, you both could end your petty squabbles until it was completed. Then you’d be back at it the second it was over.

This time was no different. Bucky was flying the quinjet while you looked over a map of the Hydra facility you were going to. Your mission was simple. Break in, get the files, and get out. The building was located in Italy. You and Bucky both agreed once you got the files, you would part ways and explore the city. You were excited. The food, the culture, the men were all calling you. You packed a new dress just for the occasion.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the quinjet made a noise that made a shiver run up your spine. The lights on the dash started blinking rapidly. Beeping filled the jet as you looked to Bucky. “Not a fucking word.” He barked at you, his metal fingers frantically pressing buttons.

The jet started to spin in the air. Bucky cursed as he tried to steady the wheel. It was no use, you were going down. You sat straight up in your seat holding onto your seatbelt for dear life. Of course, you would die with the person you hate most in the world. Karma was a bitch and you weren’t sure what you did to deserve this fate. The jet whipped around in the sky before plummeting to the ground.

After the initial shock wore off, you opened your eyes hesitantly. You must be dead. You hit way too hard and fell fast. The first thing you see is Bucky who quickly unbuckles himself and stands. Oh great, this must be hell. You’re gonna be stuck with him for all eternity. “Not that I’d have a problem with it, but if you don’t want to be here when the jet explodes, you better get out now.” Bucky tells you as he uses his metal hand to pry open a caved in wall and crawl out. You follow him with no hesitation.

Bucky walks a good distance away from the wreckage with you in tow. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls Nick Fury letting him know what happened. After a few minutes, he hangs up. “What did he say?” You ask hoping someone was on their way to get you. “Our coordinates show that we aren’t far from the Hydra facility. Fury said do the mission and he will have somewhere for us to spend the night when we are done. Someone will come get us tomorrow.”

“All our stuff is on the jet, are we not gonna get to go out like we planned?” You whined. You knew you were being selfish, but you had been dreaming of going out after the mission ever since you found out about it a month ago. Bucky shoots you a glare. “No, Princess. We aren’t going out after this.”

He rolls his eyes at you. You put your hands on your hips, pissed off at the nickname he calls you. “Princess” wouldn’t be a horrible nickname. But the way he used it made you furious. He said you were spoiled and bratty. So he had given you the nickname three years ago after you became mission partners.

He uses his phone to find the location of the Hydra facility. You followed him the whole time, flipping him off or making faces behind his back as he berated you for still wanting to go out. When you make it to your destination, Bucky turns around and gives you that signature glare. “If you don’t stop flipping me off and sticking your tongue out at me, I will break your fingers and rip out your tongue.”

Your heart dropped as you realized he knew what you had been up to the whole time. Before you could defend yourself, he grabbed your wrist, dragging you inside the building. He led the way through the dark. It was silent and it seemed like you were alone. You finally found the main computer. He stood guard as you pulled up the files and downloaded them to the device Fury gave you. When you were done, you shut down the computer and handed Bucky the device. He pocketed it and started walking toward the exit.

A loud siren started going off, blue lights flashed through the building. A chemical scent filled your nostrils. You look up to see red smoke descending from the ceiling. It was everywhere. You start to panic. It was probably some poison designed to kill whoever broke in here. Bucky was half way to the door when you finally realized you should move. You ran to him as he pulled on the door. “It’s locked.” He told you. Your heart beat faster as the red smoke slowly got closer to you.

Bucky started kicking the door until the wood splintered under his leather boots. You follow him to the front of the building, the red smoke almost face level with you now. He runs at the front door using his strength to break it down, but not before the smoke surrounded both of you. You both cough as it fills your lungs. He wraps his flesh hand around your arm, dragging you behind him.

You walk a good mile before you decide to speak up. “Was that poison?” You ask him, scared for what was to come. “How the hell should I know?” His hateful reply pissed you off. “I’m so angry that I’m gonna die with you of all people!”

“I’m not. I can’t wait to watch you take your last breath. I’ll fight to stay alive until you do. Then I can die peacefully.” You open your mouth to reply when his phone starts ringing. He answers it, telling who you presumed was Fury about the mission. He asked about the red smoke but it didn’t sound like Fury had the answers. When he hung up, he turned to you. “He sent me the location of the safe house. We are going to go there while Bruce and Tony try to figure out what the smoke was.”

When you arrive at the safe house, you’re actually impressed. Usually it would be some shack in the woods. But this was a nice house. It was clean, it smelled nice. Most importantly, the kitchen was full of ramen, canned food and water. You made dinner for the two of you, bringing him a bowl of ramen as he accepted a video call from Tony.

Tony was smiling so wide, his face looked like it might split in half. “I got good news and bad news, kiddos.” He waits a second before speaking again. “The good news is, you’re not going to die.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at that revelation. “The bad news is it was a sex drug.” Bucky and you look at each other, confusion on both of your faces. Tony bursts into laughter.

“I’m gonna assume, you don’t know what I mean?” You both shake your heads as Tony continues. “Well, the sex drug enhances all your senses. You’re going to be horny if a breeze blows by. And it will be unbearable. You’ll feel like you’re going to die if you don’t have sex. And you will. The drug is designed to make your body so hot that a high fever will set in. It will boil your brain if you don’t have sex. Don’t bother touching yourselves, that won’t work. You have to sleep with someone to make the side effects go away.” Tony cackles as he looks at the shocked looks on your faces.

He looks at his watch. “You should have about an hour before it sets in. And probably four after that before it kills you. So good luck.” He laughs before hanging up. The silence between you and Bucky is filled with tension. Both of you unsure of what this situation will bring.

You finish your dinner without saying a word to each other. But you can’t take it anymore. “Do you think he’s right?” Bucky considers your question for a moment, his blue eyes focusing on you. “Yeah, he wouldn’t lie to us.” You take a deep breath. “We have about thirty minutes before we start to feel it. What are we gonna do?”

“Im going to take a shower and go to bed.” You look at him incredulously. “Bucky, he said we will die if we don’t have sex. There’s gotta be a bar around here or something. We can go out and find someone to sleep with.” You offer a reasonable solution. Bucky chuckles, “We are in the middle of nowhere. There’s no one around for miles. And I’m sure as hell not fucking you.” He spits the words at you like venom.

“I don’t want you anywhere near me. But we don’t have a choice.” You fire back, but Bucky ignores you, walking to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. You go into the bedroom with the en-suite bathroom and take a shower too. You can feel your body start to heat up. You turn the water as cool as it can get. When you dry off, your skin is sensitive. You can feel yourself getting wet just from the towel touching you.

You look through the drawers, knowing that there was usually clothes in there just in case. You were so hot you were starting to feel like not putting any clothes on at all. But you settled on a thin, white tank top and a pair of red panties. Your hard nipples rubbed against the fabric of the tank top making you moan. You lay on the bed and check your phone. The symptoms were just now setting in, and you were already miserable.

You closed your eyes, trying to sleep. Maybe Bucky was onto something. If you could sleep through your death, it might not be so bad. But sleep never came. You tossed and turned, you touched yourself. But nothing would suppress the horrible ache between your thighs. Your panties were practically stuck to you, they were so soaked. You checked the time again, realizing you only had an hour and a half before your imminent demise.

You stand up on shaky legs and walk to the bedroom Bucky was in. Desperate times called for desperate measures. You knock on the door gently at first, but after a few minutes pass with no answer, you try the door handle. It’s locked. You beat your fists against the door. “Bucky let me in. I’ll do all the work. You can close your eyes, pretend I’m someone else. We can put bags on our heads. But I need you to fuck me right now.”

He opens the door, his long hair in a messy bun, his blue eyes dark with lust. He’s naked, his hard cock on full display. “Bucky, please. I know we hate each other, but we have to. I can’t take this.” He doesn’t say anything as he grabs you with his metal hand slinging you onto the bed. You gasp as your back hits the mattress. Bucky towers over you looking at your body hungrily. His gaze lingers on your breasts. Your nipples are so hard, you’re surprised they haven’t cut through your tank top.

“If we are doing this, we do it my way.” He grumbles. You just lay there, willing to do whatever he wants. He walks over to the nightstand, grabbing his pistol and walking back to you. “What are you doing with that?” You ask wide eyed. “Shut the fuck up.” He growls. You swallow hard as he brings the gun down over your torso.

He grips your tank top between his large hands and pulls. The rip of the fabric echoes through the silence. He moves above you, bringing his head to your breasts. He captures a nipple between his lips, pulling it with his teeth. You cry out as he soothes the pain with his tongue, lapping at it gently.

He jerks your panties down your legs, discarding them behind him. “God, Princess, you’re soaked.” He runs the muzzle of the pistol through your folds. The cold metal making you shiver. He positions it slightly, sliding the barrel into you with ease. “Bucky! What’s with the gun?” He smirks as he works the weapon in and out of you. “I don’t want to touch you yet.” He shrugs, maneuvering the barrel causing it to hit your g-spot. Your toes curl and you arch up off the bed.

Bucky grabs you back down, his vibranium arm laying across your stomach to hold you in place. He removes the pistol, looking at it in awe. It’s covered with you. His tongue darts out to lick your arousal off it. He moans as he sucks all of you off his weapon. “You taste so good, Princess.”

You gasp as he jerks your legs apart, fingers digging into your flesh. You’re dripping down your thighs, making it harder for him to keep hold of you. He lowers his head, lapping up your arousal from your thighs. When he finally makes it to where you need him most, he wastes no time. His lips and tongue feasting on you like he’s ravenous. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly as he pulls a forceful orgasm out of you.

He stands, pulling you to the edge of the bed. Bucky is fully inside you with one forceful thrust. You gasp at the delicious stretch. “Fuck.” He whispers, a few loose strands of hair fall from his bun. You have to fight the urge to grab a piece between your fingers.

Bucky’s movements are erratic. He’s like a wild animal. He lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder, the new angle causes him to hit even deeper. You’re a mess, crying out his name, watching his face as he sets a brutal pace. The heat in your stomach becoming unbearable. You move your hips with him, matching his rhythm. He brings down his vibranium hand, touching over your chest before bringing it to your neck.

He squeezes lightly at first before adding more pressure. Your eyes roll back in your head. This was all too much. The way his big body pressed you against the mattress. The way he was looking at you. The way his vibranium hand was wrapped around your throat. How he fit so perfectly, it was like you were made to take him. You clench around him, causing his movements to falter. He is getting sloppy.

You wrap the leg not on his shoulder around his waist bringing him impossibly closer. You feel him spilling inside you sending you over the edge with him. He removes his hand from your neck, bringing it to your chin forcing you to look at him. “I hate you.” He whispers as he stills inside you. Bucky removes himself and stands between your legs. He gathers the cum dripping out of you with his middle and index fingers, forcing it back inside you. “I hate you too.” You say as your legs tremble from the intensity of it all.

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[crowsofdarkness]

Today's lesson with Bucky: Oral-Bucky needs his meal

Part Five to the Teach Me series. If you haven't read the other parts, you might be a little confused. Tags for this are open, just comment if you're interested!

18+ CW's below the cut( oral with female recieving and slight possesive Bucky)

tags: @muchwita @chrisevansleftnipple @georgeyblast @justsebstan @memenerdlover @mrsalexstan @mandydornanjohnson @spencypookie13 @wintrsoldrluvr @ronjantz @buckysgirl27 @starstuck-cowgirl @idkman5335 @winchestert101 @dhoruwolfie @amanda-says @felicity-lemons-thoughts @studious-muppet @trixilove257

BUCKY

As soon as Y/N stepped foot back into the tower, I was quick to get her attention, letting her know that our next lesson was starting right fucking now. She’d been gone with Bill for a week on a mission and it was killing me inside on not seeing her. I never meant for me to catch feelings for her, these lessons were only supposed to be that. But something in the way she opened up to me, figuratively and literally, and trusted me to be the one to teach her sexual things made me realize that I could never let her walk away from this into someone else's embrace.

How could I teach her how to suck my cock only for her to use those lessons on someone else? 

Leaning against the kitchen counter with a scowl, I watched as Bill and Y/N talked for a few moments. I knew she saw me, her eyes widening when they landed on me, but she tried her best to not show how excited she was. Even though we were feet away from each other, I could hear how fast her heart was pounding in her chest. 

This mother fucker needs to let her leave otherwise I’m going to throw her down on the couch to eat her out right infront of him. 

Damn, Bucky. Chill the fuck out. 

Running my left hand over my face, I took a centering breath before finally walking over to Y/N and Bill. 

“Mr. Barnes!”

 The asshole fucking saluted me. Who the hell salutes people nowadays?

I gave him a curt nod before motiong towards Y/N. “You’ve had her quite long enough. She’s needed elsewhere.” 

Wrapping my right arm around her, I began leading her towards my bedroom in the tower. She playfully smacked my chest and as much as she wanted to be upset with me dragging her away, I could see the hint of a smile pulling at her lips. 

“You can’t just drag me away, ya know,” she said, her voice sweet like honey. 

I made a noise in the back of my throat that sounded like a mix of a grunt and sigh. “Our next lesson is starting now. Did you need to shower?” 

I noticed she was wearing street clothes but figured I would double check to see if she wanted to wash away the mission's filth from her skin. I would ask how it went but I read over the debriefing files while I waited for her to get back so there was no need to waste time. 

I wanted to taste her. Now.

“I showered on the jet. So what’s the next lesson?” She asked just as we stepped inside my bedroom. 

I’d spent all day cleaning my living quarters for her, making sure it looked and smelled clean. 

I motioned for her to sit on the bed while I shucked off my jacket, leaving me in a grey shirt and black sweats. 

“Oral.” 

Her spine stiffened as she sat straighter on my bed, immediately twirling her fingers. A nervous habit of hers I’ve noticed early on. 

“Me to you?” She asked, nerves lacing on every word. 

I shook my head while helping her lay back against my bed, wanting her to be comfortable. “You’ve been giving me a lot of pleasure. I think it’s time for me to return the favor.” 

Her bright eyes stared up at the ceiling, refusing to make direct contact with me, so with a long sigh I kneeled on the bed next to her so I could stare down at her. 

“Is that alright?” I questioned. 

“Yeah,” she hesitated at first, before nodding. “I’m just nervous because I’ve never had that before so I don’t know if I’ll like it.” 

I cupped her cheek with my left hand, her cheek leaning into my vibranium palm and it was evident how relaxed she became. Another reason why I couldn’t allow her to go to someone else for this. They could take advantage of her, force her into doing something she didn’t know how. 

“If you don’t like it, just tap the top of my head twice and I’ll stop, alright?”

“Okay,” she breathed. 

Tapping her thigh, I helped her out of her leggings and green panties, my cock jumping at the sight of not only it but her cunt as well. Almost immediately, Y/N tried to close her thighs tighter together to hide. 

“I haven’t shaved,” she whispered. 

“I don’t care,” I assured her with a tender kiss to the inside of her thigh. 

I truly didn’t. It seemed like she hadn’t shaved in a few days but that was not about to stop me. I needed Y/N, I needed to taste her, have her cum linger on my tongue for days. 

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” I breathed over her cunt, causing her to shiver. 

She did what I asked and I had to hold myself back from devouring her right then and there. I didn’t want to rush this. 

“That’s it, good girl,” I praised while adjusting my cock inside of my sweats. 

Anything to alleviate the blood rushing to it. 

“I’m going to try a few different things, let me know if you like them,” I said while flicking my gaze up at her from my spot between her legs. 

The way she looked at me with a look full of fondness made something inside of me twinge with an unknown feeling but I didn’t dare dwell on it. I needed to focus on what was in front of me. 

As soon as the tip of my tongue flicked her clit, tingles exploded throughout my body villing my veins with her taste. One simple taste of Y/N and I was hooked, addicted to her and suddenly in that moment I knew I’d never get enough of her. 

Her body shuddered when I did it two more times and before I could question if she liked it or not, Y/N let out a soft moan eliciting me further. So I dragged my tongue up and down her slit, tasting even more of her and I could stop the groan that slipped out. 

“Holy shit,” she breathed, fingers dragging through my hair. “I didn’t expect it to feel so good.” 

I hummed, lapping up more of her honey taste and let my tongue slip inside of her a bit. She bucked off the bed causing me to hold her in place with my vibranium hand against her hip. With the hand that wasn’t tied into my hair, she dragged her fingers along the vibranium knuckles and without saying anything, I knew what she wanted. 

I spent the next few moments switching from tongue fucking her and bitting and sucking on her clit. When she told me she liked it better when I paid more attention to her clit, I kept my mouth there. But still wanting to give attention to her cunt, I removed my left hand from her hip to tease her opening. 

“Please, please, please,” she begged, nearly humping my face. 

“What do you want, baby?” I asked right before wrapping my lips around her cunt to suck. 

“Fuck me with your fingers, Bucky.”

Hearing my name on a breathless moan made a fire ignite at the base of my spine. I began humping the bed to put pressure on my cock, desperate for some kind of friction. I pictured my cock was where my fingers were, deep inside her warmth, squeezing the life out of me. 

My fingers worked inside of her, curling up into that sweet spot I knew so well only fingering her twice. I became attuned to what her body came alive with and how much she loved it when I flicked my tongue over her clit before dragging my teeth over it. 

“Oh fuck,” she said with a hint of worry in her voice. “I’m close.”

“Cum for me, baby,” I pulled away from her for a moment, meeting her blissed out expressions. “It’s okay. You can cum like this.”

With my mouth on her again, I worked my fingers faster inside of her to urge her closer to her orgasm and soon, her honey taste exploded in my mouth. I humped the bed like a madman and devoured more of her. No one besides me would taste her, bring her this pleasure, or hear her moans. She would only cry out my name when she came apart. I’d be the only one that would see her naked, feel her skin upon mine. 

Images of her naked underneath me and on top of me as she rode me flashed in my mind causing me to eat more of her arousal, never letting up even after she came down from her high. I was sloppy humping my bed now as my own orgasm was on the tip of teetering off the edge, my body so numb I barely felt Y/N gently tug on my hair. 

“Bucky,” she panted. “I th-I think I’m going to cum again.” 

My fingers never stopped fucking her and leaving her clit, I pressed tongue inside of her too. My urgent mutters were muffled by her soft skin and all over again, the honey filled my mouth and my hips stalled against the bed when I felt a stickiness between my own legs. 

When I could tell Y/N was spent from her two orgasm, I reluctantly pulled away from her and titled my head up at her. My jaw ached, my fingers and chin were soaked with her arousal, and I didn’t doubt my hair was a mess due to her fingers because the way she looked at me made my heart stutter in my chest. 

“Holy fuck,” she choked on a breath while resting on her elbows. “That’s what I’ve been missing out on?” 

I chuckled. “I take it as you liked it, huh?” 

“I came twice, Bucky. That’s never happened before.” 

A boost of confidence filled me and I leaned back on my knees. “Well, I’m glad I could be of service but I need to shower.” 

Y/N gave me a puzzled look with furrowed brows so I motioned down to my lap; more so the wet spot on my sweats. 

“Oh my god,” she giggled behind her hands, a crimson hue covering her cheeks. “You sure made a mess.”

I leaned myself over her now, gazing deep into those bright eyes full of wonder, and didn’t stop to think of the ramifications on what I was about to do. Ghosting my lips over hers, I broke into a grin. 

“It’s all because of you, baby.” 

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

"I'm Taking That As A Yes, Princess"

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!FratPresident!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: Getting alcohol spilt on you, fingering, a bit angsty? (if you squint), semi-bathroom sex, swering, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, mentions of cum, handjob, a slight hint of a blowjob and slight fluff? (If I have missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)

WORD COUNT: 2,922

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

Walking into the house, you were immediately surrounded by sweaty, sticky bodies. You grimaced at the overwhelming feeling and tried to find a space where you could catch your breath. The kitchen was relatively empty, except for a couple making out on the counter. You decided to mind your own business, reaching into the fridge and navigating past cans and bottles of beer to grab a water bottle hidden at the back.

You twisted the cap off and took a long sip. Everyone was dressed up differently, which made sense—it was Halloween. Instead of babysitting your little cousins, you’d faked being sick to your parents, dressed up, and come to the Alpha Phi house. This wasn’t like you at all. The top student in your class, the teacher’s pet, the early-assignment submitter, the girl who became a TA in her junior year—you were the “good girl.”

So why were you here? Because you’d overheard some girls talking about the infamous Halloween party that the Alpha Phi guys threw every year. And you weren’t the type who usually went to parties. So why this one? Because you’d heard that Steve Rogers was going to show up, and you had a little crush on the star player of the varsity ice hockey team. You’d been trying to muster the courage to talk to him ever since you sat next to him in a lab in your first year. That was two years ago, and you’d been harbouring feelings for him ever since.

Your heart did a little flip every time he smiled at you when you passed him in the halls. Finishing your water, you threw the bottle in the recycling bin and tugged your tutu down to avoid a wedgie. The ballerina costume was a last-minute, twenty-dollar buy, but you were happy with it—the corseted top accentuated your chest, and though the sheer tights were a bit snug, it didn’t bother you too much.

You were making your way through the crowd and spotted a tuft of blond hair. Your heart flipped again. This was it, the perfect moment. You were going to ask Steve if he wanted to go out sometime. He was tipsy enough to say yes, and if he said no, he’d be too focused on his hangover tomorrow to remember your question. You took a deep breath and started toward him.

Then you saw them. You’d thought the rumours weren’t true, that they couldn’t be real. But the sight of Steve Rogers making out with Peggy Carter would be forever etched in your mind, because the pain in your heart was unbearable. You stood frozen, your heart thudding in your chest as you watched Steve's hands roam over Peggy’s body. You clenched your jaw and sniffled, rooted to the spot.

You only snapped out of it when someone spilled their drink on you. “Damn, sorry, gorgeous,” a guy dressed as Fred from Scooby-Doo winked at you drunkenly before chuckling and moving away. You shook your head, trying to clean the alcohol off your costume.

“Hey, buddy. I think you owe the girl a real apology,” another voice piped up. You looked up to see a towering figure dressed as Ghostface, holding Fred by the shoulder. “Now, say you’re sorry—like you really mean it, and none of that half-assed stuff because you’re shitfaced,” Ghostface ordered, crossing his arms. Fred straightened up, looked you in the eye, and apologized sincerely. Ghostface nodded approvingly and sent him away.

Before you realized it, Ghostface had moved closer to you. You turned to see him looking you over, his mask bobbing as if inspecting your costume. He clicked his tongue and put a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You both walked upstairs, where the sounds of the party gradually faded, and you were grateful for the quiet. You hesitated when he opened a door and gestured for you to go in.

For the first time that night, you spoke up. “Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are.”

The chuckle that followed freaked you out a little, but then he reached up to remove the mask.

James. Freaking. Barnes.

You tried your best to mask your surprise, but you were sure he saw it, because the corners of his lips lifted into a smirk.

James “Bucky” Barnes—the captain of the varsity ice hockey team, a good student, a charmer, the president of Alpha Phi, and most importantly, the best friend of Steve Rogers.

You’ve met James a few times here and there. During some of the varsity games. And passed him in the dorms sometimes. He never caused you any trouble. He even offered to help you move-in in your second year when he clearly saw you struggle push your luggage up the stairs.

You were just acquaintances.

You swallowed and timidly walked into the pristine room, surprised by its immaculate condition. “I certainly didn’t expect a frat president to have such a clean room,��� you muttered, hearing James laugh at your comment as he closed the door.

“Well, I don’t work well in a messy environment,” he shrugged and walked closer, his gaze trailing over your corset. You backed up slightly at the intensity of his approach, making him huff a laugh. “I don’t bite, princess,” he said, his fingers grazing the edge of your corset.

He gently guided you to the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll have to wash it out a bit. So, if you don’t mind getting your tutu a little damp, princess…,” he led, waiting for your response. You shook your head, signalling it was fine. He nodded toward the counter, and you hopped onto it.

He wetted a towel and began dabbing it on your clothes. “So, what’s a timid thing like you doing at a fraternity party?” he whispered, his focus on cleaning up the stain. You glanced at his concentrated face before looking away. “What? Can’t a girl come to a party?” you replied, defensively, for some reason.

James chuckled, “Oh, a girl can come to a party. But you, you’re not that type of girl, princess.” You raised an eyebrow at him, puzzled by his statement. “I mean, you never come to parties in general. So why the sudden appearance?” He sighed and caged you between his arms.

You tensed, starting to stammer. “Well, I wanted to see someone,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

“Yeah?” James asked, his gaze piercing. “Who was the special guy?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly looked away. He used two fingers to tilt your face toward him. “Eyes on me, princess,” he said softly.

“Steve. I came to ask Steve out…,” you admitted, spilling your secret.

James looked at you with you look, you couldn’t decipher what it was. But you didn’t know what to feel about it. He looked into your eyes for so long, you started to tear up due to the lack of blinking.

“Steve…,” he dragged it, and it made you wonder why. But you didn’t question it.

He continued to dab the wet cloth to your clothes. “You didn’t have to do that you know… The, um, asking the guy to apologize to me,” you broke the silence, because you couldn’t take the stuffy air that was in between the both of you.

James shook his head and chuckled as he dabbed on your neckline. “If I didn’t my Ma would scold my ear off if she knew. And, besides, a pretty girl needs to be treated right.”

You’re breathing stops at that, and you looked up at him with a confused look. He smirked at your expression, “what?” You shook you head and asked him, “you think I’m pretty?”

James scoffed and nodded, “I would have to be blind if I didn’t think your stunning, princess.”

You didn’t realise but your lips and James’ were a hair breadths away. “James…,” you tried to start but James beat you to it, “Bucky, princess. Call me Bucky.”

You gulped and nodded.

“Bucky.”

He groaned at they way his named sounded on your tongue. “Princess, your killin’ me here,” he whispered more to himself than at you. His knuckles gripped onto the counter tight. “Please…,” he muttered.

“Pardon?” you didn’t catch what he said.

“Please let me kiss you.”

You froze, you didn’t know what to do.

You always thought Bucky was hot. Hotter than Steve, but you never had any classes with him to fully judge him. You were a hundred percent sure that if Bucky was your lab partner instead of Steve, you’d totally be crushing on Bucky instead.

And if that were the case, you’d be nodding your head like a mad man. Steve was taken, you were still recovering from that. Bucky, apparently, liked you. Liked you more than you thought he did.

You saw the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to you lips and back to your eyes. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and saw his pupils dilate at the movement.

“I-,” you started but your thoughts were washed away when you saw Bucky lick his lips too. You heart thuds in your chest as you feel like the whole world is dark and the spotlight is just on you with the way Bucky looks like you. There’s a small part of you that wanted to feel how his lips would feel against you.

So, you nodded.

Before you knew it, Bucky was standing between your legs and gripping your hips. He then pulled you close and smashed his lips on yours. You took a second to understand what was going on, but when your conscious did come back to you cupped his face and kissed him back.

He licked at your bottom lip asking your permission to open up your mouth and you allowed it immediately. Soon your tongues were dancing together, yours was meek and shy letting Bucky do all the taking over. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whimpers against his mouth, which just made him groan against you.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access, and the more you let him the more your whimpers turn to moans.

He moves his hands all over your body, “this okay, princess?” He whispered against your skin, and you nodded fervently and grasped at his black cloak. You felt him palm at your chest, and you sighed and whispered a, “more, Bucky, please.” He nodded against your skin and moved his hands up your thighs and squeezes the flesh of your thighs.

You felt the heat pool between your things and squeezed them together. Bucky smirked and pushed them away, “nuh uh, none o’ that.” He got closer to you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips and chuckled. His hands moved to your inner thighs, and you gasped out, the wetness pooling more into your underwear.

You felt his knuckles brushed against your core and you whimpered and dropped your head against his shoulder. “Please, Bucky,” you muttered against his costume. Without any other word he ripped your tights at the centre and felt the wet path of white cotton.

“Oh princess, so wet f’me already?” Bucky snickered and you nodded at his question.  He rubbed his knuckles against your cunt’s lips and pressed his fingers harder when he heard your soft mewl. “You like it don’t you, princess?” To which you nodded again and whispered his name breathlessly.

He pushed your underwear aside and sunk his thick fingers in, and you whined at the intrusion. The sweet stretch felt better than your own meek fingers and soon Bucky was pumping his fingers in and out making your legs shake. “I’m not even rubbing your clit, princess. Your legs are already shaking,” he whispered roughly against your ear.  

His thumb started to rub at your clit and that’s when you lost your mind. You mewled and moaned his name as his fingers were rubbing that deep spot in you and his thumb playing with your button has you becoming a wailing mess. He bends down and started to attack your neck. “Fuck, Bucky. Please,” you cried out as you feel your impending orgasm start to build at your core.

Bucky roughly rubbed at your clit and within seconds your gushed around his fingers. You sighed and untensed your shoulders. Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes and licked them clean. You whimpered at the sight.

You both leaned in and captured the other in a deep kiss, Bucky picked you up like you weighed nothing and exited the bathroom and walked until he placed you down on his bed.

He pulled the Ghostface mask down and leaned to tower over you. You bit your lip, and he chuckled, “didn’t know princess was a bit freaky, hmm?” He unbuckled his belt under the cloak, and you took off your tutu and tossed it somewhere in his room.

When he managed to get his cock out of his pants, your eyes widened as the sheer size of him and then looked at him to see the small smirk that was painted on his lips. “Something wrong, princess?” You gulped and said, “it’s not gonna fit.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned over you once more and whispered into your ear, “we’ll make it fit, princess.” The tone he used made you shiver, and you gripped onto his shoulders and readied yourself. Bucky ran his shaft up and down you’re sit and you whined desperately.

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back. He tapped your cheek with two fingers and said, “eyes on me, princess.” And with that Bucky slowly pushed inside you. The stretch was so deliciously sweet and painful it made you lose your mind. You both gasped at the feeling of him moving further into you.

“Fuck, princess. You’re so tight,” he grits out as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your nails raked down his back and he let out a deep moan which made goosebumps raise on your skin.

The sound of skin slapping on skin wasn’t’ as loud as your wails of Bucky’s name and moans. When the tip of him tapped against that spot in you, your eyes rolled to the back of your mind and you squealed, “Bucky right there, oh! Right there!”

Bucky grabbed a hold of the headboard and thrusted harder into you, aiming at that same spot and you felt tears run down the side of face in pleasure. “Fuck, princess. Gripping me like a vice,” he purses his lips as he knocked his hips against yours.

You felt the sheer length of him move in and out of you, your walls embraced him like he was meant to be there in the first place. “Attagirl. Take what I give you, yeah?” He huffed against your ear. The coarse patch of pubic hair that rested at the bottom of his happy trail, rubbed against your clit giving your that nice friction and it made you whine even more.

He pressed a hand against your abdomen and pressed down harder and it made the feeling even better. He saw how you reacted and pressed down harder, and you arched your back at the feeling. With that you felt the climax in you start to rise, “Bucky, I’m so close.” You whimpered as you watched the man wearing the Ghostface mask rut into you expertly.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and rutted into your harder, the band at your core bends and bends until it finally snapped and soon you were coming around Bucky’s cock.

Bucky groaned deeply at you squeezing him tightly, he pulled out and you whined at the loss of the feeling. He was fisting his length at the sight of you post orgasmic bliss and it looked so hot from your perspective. You quickly got on your knees and replaced Bucky’s hand with yours. “Fucking hell, princess,” he ran a hand through your hair and bunched it up at the back of your head. “That’s it, making me feel so good,” he sighed and threw his head back.

He groaned when you parted your lips, the mushroom head of his member inches away from your mouth. He tipped his head back, “fuck I’m so close.” And soon you felt his warm spent spill down your throat. Bucky moaned at the sight, and his chest reverberated deeply when he saw you swallow.

He pushed you down to lay on your back again and he then he laid next to you. You reached up and took of his Ghostface mask so you can his face. “That desperate to see my face? Hmm?” He smirked at your action. You shook your head and chuckled shyly, “maybe.”

Bucky reached up and caressed your face. “You know you’re really pretty right, princess?” You blushed at his comment, “buy me dinner first, Barnes.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded, “are you free this weekend?”

You froze, “you can’t be serious.”

“Well, I kinda am.”

“You are a piece of work James Barnes,”

“Should I take that as a, yes?”

You chuckled and shook your head; you gave him a soft smile.

“I’m taking that as a yes, princess.”

🎀🎀🎀

A fic posted during the midst of exam period?!

I would like to thank @buck-star for helping me with coming up with this idea!

This took a while and it's ALOT, but late night productivity hit me like a freight train haha.

I've one more exam in the next week and I'll be done!

Hope you lovelies liked this!

Lemme know what y'all think of the fic!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[marvelavengerspovs1]

Puppy Love

Pairing: Bucky x F!reader

Warnings: Angst and fluff

Length: 1.1k

Summary: You have a surprise for Bucky and Alpine

A/N: I’ve had this idea floating around in my head for a while so here it is! Do we want a pt 2?

Edit: Pt. 2 can be found here!

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

You know what you were doing was probably wrong. Keeping a secret this big could crumble your relationship. You know that you would make not only your boyfriend mad, but also your cat. But you couldn’t help yourself. It would benefit your family in the long run but it would take time and patience.

You walk into your shared apartment with Bucky and notice that he is still at the vet with Alpine. Perfect! You think. You carry the large box into your bedroom and close the door behind you. As soon as you hear the door click, you hear the front door unlock.

“Doll, are you home?” You hear Bucky yell.

“I’m here!” You run up to him and kiss him.

Bucky has Alpine in a small carrier and places it on the ground before grabbing your waist to pull you in. You both smile as you kiss, loving that this is how you greet each other every time you come home. You put your hands into his back pockets to pull him closer.

“Hi…” Bucky whispers before kissing the tip of your nose.

You pull away from Bucky and crouch down to open the carrier. “How did she do?” You ask as you pull Alpine into your arms.

She purrs as you scratch her head, nuzzling the side of your face. You walk to the couch and sit down, Bucky following behind you.

“Well once she realized we were going to the vet, she was not happy. But she behaved well and the vet said that she’s healthy.” Bucky sits beside you and pets Alpine under her chin.

“Oh, that’s good!” You smile down at Alpine.

Bucky gets up and walks into the kitchen, grabbing his favorite bottle of whiskey. “You want some, Doll?”

“I’m ok, thank you.” You smile at him, your heart racing. It’s only a matter of time before he figures it out.

Bucky picks up on your nervousness but doesn’t say anything. He knows that you will talk to him when you are ready.

You look back down at Alpine and realize that she’s fallen asleep in your arms. Alpine is not the most independent cat but she loves her space. It’s rare moments like this that make your heart swell more and more.

You look up when you hear a camera shutter. Bucky has his whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other, capturing the moment between you Alpine.

“I love you,” You blurt out.

Bucky smiles at you but his eyebrows are drawn in. It wasn’t strange for you to say ‘I love you’ to him, but you never blurted it out like that. “I love you too, doll.”

“What, your girlfriend can’t say she loves you?”

“Well of course you can but you’re not one to just blurt it out.” Bucky moves towards you. “Are sure it’s just an ‘I love you’ and nothing else?”

You don’t meet his eyes. You look down at the sleeping cat in your arms, totally unaware that she is going to lose her shit in a few minutes.

“Doll, I’m getting nervous. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“I got a puppy!” You blurt, scaring Alpine awake.

“You what?” Bucky’s eyes widen as he sets down his glass of whiskey.

Alpine jumps up from your lap and goes to Bucky, rubbing against his leg. It’s like she understood that you got her an unwanted sibling. Bucky picks her up and she purrs, wrapping herself around his neck like a scarf.

“I was coming home from a walk and I saw this box in the street. It had a sign that said ‘Free Puppies’ and I thought to myself, ‘Hey, there’s probably no puppies! But it doesn’t hurt to look…’ and I looked in the box and there was one puppy left. I couldn’t bring myself to just leave the puppy there so I picked up the box and I came home.”

“Where’s the puppy now?” Bucky’s eyes narrow at you.

As if on command you both hear a crash in your bedroom. You turn quickly to look at your door before looking at your boyfriend with a sheepish smile. Bucky unwraps Alpine from his neck before placing her on the ground and marching his way to the bedroom.

“Bucky, wait!” You chase after him.

“No, you went and got a puppy without even consulting with me first? We’re supposed to be in a relationship, we’re supposed to communicate with each other!” Bucky goes to open the bedroom door but you duck under his arm to block the door.

“I truly was going to discuss it with you Buck, I swear! I’ve been thinking about us getting another pet for a couple of months now and I was going to bring it up but then I saw the puppy. I couldn’t leave it out in the cold!” You plead with your boyfriend.

Bucky closes his eyes and looks up to take a deep breath. He knows that you made the decision out of the goodness in your heart, that is one of the many reasons he loves you. But he feels disrespected that you didn’t ask him about this huge responsibility.

“Doll I know you’re doing this because you think it’s right, but what about Alpine? We don’t even know if she will do well with another animal here. She’s been our main focus and with another animal, a puppy nonetheless, will be a huge adjustment for her. We will most likely fall in love with that puppy and then we might have to give it away because Alpine is not taking to it well.”

You nod your head at what he’s saying. You knew all of this when you grabbed the box. You knew it would be a possibility, but you couldn’t say no to those puppy eyes.

“I know Bucky, I’ve been thinking about this for months. But when you’re gone you don’t see it. Alpine gets lonely. Even when I’m here she doesn’t play like her normal self, I can’t imagine how she acts when we’re both away on a mission.” Bucky looks down at you with sadness in his eyes.

“Alpine gets lonely?”

“She’ll stand by the front door and meow for hours, she’ll eat but only when it’s on your spot at the table, and she’ll only ever sleep on your pillow.”

Bucky turns to look at his feline companion. She’s asleep on what is Bucky’s side of the couch, not paying any mind to the argument. Bucky takes another deep breath and turns to you.

“Bucky, I wouldn’t have brought the puppy home if I didn’t think that we all couldn’t handle this adjustment.” You look into his eyes.

Bucky slowly nods his head. “Ok, but we have to introduce them slowly. We don’t want Alpine to become territorial.”

You smile at Bucky and give him a kiss. “Thank you, Bucky!”

You move out of the way and Bucky opens your bedroom door, revealing a big ball of fluff.

[pixiexdusts-world]

Incorrect quote

Bucky: Stop setting things on fire because you're curious about what will happen. What will happen is fire.

Y/n: But what if something else happens just this one time.

[stevenssacrab]

Good Neighbor

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: Seeing your neighbor constantly ordering takeout inspires you to offer him a home-cooked meal and your company.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.1k

a/n: As promised, one that isn't about Mr. Steven Grant. Hope someone out there appreciates the fallout 4 reference in the title lol. There will be a part 2 so look out for that soon! Hope y'all like it!

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Part 2

Bucky sighs as he submits the 4th DoorDash order of the week.

“There’s no way this is good for me,” he groaned loudly, tossing his phone to the side and throwing his head back on the sofa when a heavenly aroma hit his nose.

“Ugh, there goes Y/N cooking again,” he says, slightly annoyed at himself; he quietly steps out into the hallway, seeking more of the godly scent coming from your apartment. Bucky has been entranced by your cooking abilities; somehow, you find the willpower to make a delicious home-cooked meal every day; he doesn’t know how you do it.

You hum softly to yourself as you pull out your chicken pot pie. You loved this recipe, but it, unfortunately, served 8+ people, and you didn’t know that many people, so you just picked at it throughout the week, but this time was different; you noticed that your handsome neighbor Bucky is always ordering take out, you can’t imagine a night he didn’t order something in, so you’ve decided to be a good friendly neighbor and offer him some, it would go to waste anyways so might as well give it away, and if it meant you would get to talk to Bucky, you figured it wouldn’t hurt.

Knock knock, you tap lightly on his door, suddenly having second thoughts, but before you can change your mind, Bucky opens the door.

“Hey, what’s up?” He says, only slightly confused

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you say, holding your hand out. Bucky shakes your hand, and you don’t miss how rough his hand feels against yours, how your hands fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Bucky,” he says, looking at you with a hint of something you can’t quite grasp.

“I made some chicken pot pie, and I have tons left over; I was wondering if you wanted what’s left. I see all the takeout and thought it may have been a while since you had a home-cooked meal.” You say, your eyes widening suddenly. “N-Not that I’m like watching you or something. You laugh awkwardly, eyes shifting everywhere. “I just happened to notice and.”

“Y/N, it's okay. I know what you meant,” he smiles at you.

“Come in, please,” he says, stepping aside to let you in.

“Okay,” you say shyly, slowly crossing the threshold into this home; it was much homier than you imagined. You were not sure what exactly you expected, but it wasn’t this; it was decorated with army medals and pictures of other Avengers enjoying life; it was odd seeing everyone superheroes, in regular clothes, having beers and singing karaoke, everyone being so ordinary. It was refreshing to see; it really humanized them for you. It, of course, never slipped your mind who Bucky was, but to you, he was always your neighbor who ordered too much takeout and had loud get-togethers.

“This smells so good, Y/N,” he beams, practically drooling over the pie.

“I’m glad you think so; it tastes even better,” you wink. Bucky looks away, smiling shyly. He leads you into his kitchen, placing the food at the breakfast bar. He pulls out your chair for you before he seats himself, digging in immediately.

“UGH, this is so fucking good,” he shouts, with a mouth full of food. “Oh, sorry, this is so good.” he laughs, shoving more food into his mouth.

“Mmm, what is this crust made out of?” He asks, chewing slowly, dissecting the flavors, and trying to pinpoint it.

“Cheddar and thyme,” you beam proudly, enjoying his reactions to the meal.

“Ugh, my god, genius.” He says lowly, “So, does your boyfriend love your cooking too?” He asks

“Oh, haha, no boyfriend, it’s just me,” you laugh awkwardly.

“No way, I’d marry you if it meant I got to eat like a king every day,” he says matter-of-factly.

“I might have to take you up on that offer,” you flirted back. Bucky practically licks the plate clean; he pushes the plate away and smacks the table in triumph.

“Amazing,” he chirps happily, gently patting his stomach, absolutely glowing.

“Thank you, you’re too kind.” you blush at his praise and stand up, clearing your throat before speaking.

“I should get going; I’ll see you around, Bucky,” you say, gently squeezing his arm.

“Yeah, hope I can see you again.” He says slowly, hoping you pick up his suggestion; you walk across the hallway, giving one last smile before closing the door.

It’s been a week since you gave him your pot pie. Every meal you’ve made, you wanted to provide some, but you didn’t wanna weird him out

It was raining, too, so you decided it was a good day for some classic French onion soup, only this time, you wouldn’t bring your leftovers; you would have dinner with Bucky. You are dressed in a yellow floral print dress that landed just above the knees. Giving yourself one last look in the mirror before walking across the hall, you gently knock on the door.

“I’m coming!” Bucky shouts, and you faintly hear footsteps coming closer. Bucky quickly swings the door open.

“Oh, Y/N! Hey, whatcha got there?” Bucky asks, looking down at the pot you have in your hands.

“French onion soup,” you say proudly, holding your head high. “With a baguette,” you added happily.

“Hell yeah! Come in, come in,” he says excitedly, stepping aside.

You pour yourself and Bucky, as he waits excitedly, absolutely beaming, gently place the bowl before him and hand him a few slices of baguette.

“I hope you like it,” you smile nervously; you sit next to Bucky, wiping your sweat palms on your dress.

“This looks amazing, Y/N,” he says, smiling down at the food, picking up a spoonful of soup, and blowing on it before eating.

“Oh my god,” he says as soon as it hits the palate, Concern growing deep in your chest. “He hates it, oh my god,” you say to yourself.

“Y-you don’t like it?” You ask timidly, pulling his bowl away from him, shame feeling every part of your body, “this was a stupid idea,” you say under your breath, but loud enough that Bucky hears you; he grabs the hand, pulling away tightly, you gasp; looking up at Bucky nervously

“Don’t say that,” he said firmly, realizing he was still holding your hand; he cleared his throat and let your hand go.

“I just mean it’s good, better than good; it’s incredible,” he admits cautiously, reaching for another spoonful.

“Oh, haha,” you laugh, feeling the tension melt away.

Bucky wastes no time scarfing down the food, and of course, going back for seconds, you smile to yourself, pleased with his reactions.

“Ugh, that was marvelous,” he said, rubbing his belly happily; you both sat on the sofa in comfortable silence. You remember when you first built up the courage to offer him your leftovers; you never imagined it would lead to this: having dinner with your handsome neighbor.

“Do you wanna make dinner at my place next week?” you asked suddenly before you changed your mind.

“I’d love to.” Bucky smiled back at you.

[gaysindistress]

Daffodils

summary: My mark, a bouquet of daffodils, is the one thing that I have had to cling to through the years. It’s a promise of eternal love, a partnership made by the gods. I thought I’d lost him in 1945 but here he is in 2023, alive and well (kinda).

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader 

warnings: angst, fluff, the feels, soulmate au

word count: 7.5k

Main masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

For as long as I could remember I had daffodils on my left arm, the mark in the shape of four pale flowers in a bouquet being with me since birth. My mother would tell me stories of couples with matching marks, destined to find each other in this life and the next. She’d trace over her own mark that tied her to my father when she told me these stories and engrained the importance of the mark into me. “We are not whole until we find our match,” she’d say whilst sending my father loving glances that were returned by a wink and blown kisses. She would tell me about that the pull that you’d feel when you were close to your match. The proximity would tug at you like a string until you reached the end and met your match. My father would laugh while recalling how he nearly ran her over when he had been chasing that string, too caught up in the moment to look where he was going. Their situation was unusual in that he was a god, meaning he would live long after she died and would lose the one person made for him. It saddened her to know that one day she would leave her daughter and beloved husband behind but living with them for any length of time was enough for her. 

When she did die, the mark on my father’s arm did not fade but morphed into a new one, presenting him with a new match to find. Somewhere out in the universe, my mother had been reborn and she would be waiting for him to find her. Gods had the special ability to have several matches throughout their lifetime as they lived far longer than humans. If they did have a human match, they would be reborn so the god and them could be together for eternity. My fate was undecided being half human, half god; I could either find a god match or a human match that would not be reborn. The cruel reality of my situation halted my efforts to find my match many times. 

How could I go off and find them if I would only have a few decades with them? 

How could I allow myself to feel this great love, only to have it ripped away and never to be felt again? 

For many years, I chose not to look and pretended the daffodils were non-existent. Not only that but I couldn’t feel the pull to find my match for nearly two centuries. Curiosity, sure, drove most of my searching but that need to find my other half wasn’t there until 1917. I had been tending to my flower garden, trying to reconnect with the earth again when I felt the burn in my arm. The daffodils were glowing and burning from under my linen sleeve, telling me that my match had been born and from that day I felt the pull that my mother described. It drove me to leave my mountain cabin and find refuge in Brooklyn, New York. 

Occasionally I would feel a burn in my mark, letting me know they were close but it never led anywhere. I’d search a twenty-foot radius when it’d happen only to turn up with nothing, no leads to who they might be. Even though I knew I was in the right city and that they would have a matching mark, I had nothing else to go off of, leaving me distraught and lost. Once again I had allowed myself to get my hopes up only for them to be violently destroyed. My father, ever the wise man, would try to console me, telling me that these things take time and that I needed to be patient. Both of us knew that the sudden shift in 1917 meant they were human and thus I would only have a limited amount of time with them. Both of us never spoke of that fact and tried to find relief in the fact that I finally had a lead, no matter how small. 

Born March 10th, 1917 in Brooklyn, New York, and would have a daffodil bouquet on their left arm. 

The 20s came and went with no sign of them. The 30s passed in a blur with still nothing. The 40s were here and alas I had nothing. The first world war had not been a concern for me because they wouldn’t have been old enough to join however with the fast-approaching second world war, anxiety gripped me every day. If they were a man, they would surely be drafted and I would lose nearly any chance to meet them. On the other hand, if they were a woman, this world was not ready to welcome queer matches. Either way, I looked at it, nothing eased the fear and uncertainty that I lived with every day.

Laurel is the first person I told about a part of my dilemma. She doesn’t know about my god heritage but knows that I haven’t found my match yet and is becoming increasingly worried about the U.S. joining the war. The strawberry blonde laughs at my distressed expression as we pour out our hearts to each other in her small living room. She’d invited me over for dinner, at least that's what she claims but the coffee table full of wine and snacks led me to believe she needed a girl’s night. 

“I don’t really know why you bother with all of that stuff. Just live and have fun,” she declares as she refills her wine, the sweet but tangy aroma filling the room, “Don’t go around checking everyone’s arm and worrying about it.”

“My parents had such a great story….”

She lets out a loud and dramatic sigh, “Yeah yeah whatever. Honey, you need to just go out, find yourself a man, and dance the night away. There are hundreds if not thousands of handsome men in uniforms milling around, I bet we could find you one to get your mind off of this mystery person.”

“Laurel I don’t want a pointless fling, you know that.”

Sitting up and leaning forward, her eyes get a mischievous look in them, “I have a date tomorrow night and he has a friend. We could make it a double date! Oh, honey, it would be so much fun!”

I agree rather unwilling and she jumps up, shrieking as she grabs the phone to call her date to tell him it’s now a double date. 

Waves of patchouli, carnation, and vanilla filter through Laurel’s bedroom as she dances around while getting ready. She had pretty much drowned herself and me in her perfume when I walked in, claiming it was the best perfume on the market. 

“Sit we have to fix your hair,” demanding, she points to the vanity chair. 

“There’s nothing wrong with my hair.”

Red nails grip my shoulders and push me to the chair, “You can’t go out with days old pin curls.”

“They’re not days old and it’s how Veronica Lake wears her hair,” I swat at her hands as she tries to put my hair into a chignon. 

“Fine. Don’t complain to me if Steve doesn’t flirt with you.”

“Steve?”

“Oh yeah,” she’s moved on from my hair to lipstick, “You know my next-door neighbor, Steve, right? Well, his best friend is in town on leave and we may have run into each other a few days back.”

“Oh my god, Laurel! Why didn’t you tell me it was Steve?”

Shrugging her shoulders, “Why does it matter? He’s sweet and Bucky is to die for.”

“That’s the problem; he’s too sweet to be dragged around on a double date. I can’t go, I’m sorry,” I try to get up but she stops me with a very intense look on her face. 

“No, you’re going and you’re going to flirt with sweet Steve and get your mind off of that stupid mark,” she shakes my left arm for dramatic effect in the mirror, “Now take this lipstick, put it on, and change into one of my dresses.”

“I’ll put on the lipstick but I’m not wearing on your dresses.”

“You’re wearing a rather boring day dress. Flash a little cleavage for once.”

I roll my eyes at her crude wording as I finish putting on the red lipstick. Sitting back to look at myself in the mirror fully, I hate to admit that she might be right. The plain blue dress only has a hint of embellishment with the pearls that trail from the waist to the hem. In comparison to the white floral dress that Laurel has on, I do blend in with the background but that might be in part due to her much more outgoing personality. She doses us with another round of perfume, satisfied that we’ll smell absolutely irresistible. There’s a knock at the front door, pausing both of us and she lets out a small shriek of glee. 

“They’re here!” 

She’s bouncing like a toddler at the door, stopping only to take a deep breath and calm herself before swinging the door wide open to reveal our dates for the night. Pressing superficial kisses to their cheeks, she steps aside to let them in and takes the flowers her date is holding to put into a vase. I emerge from the bedroom with the mark on my arm starting to burn and itch as I get closer to the trio. The men have their backs to me but I recognize the shorter one as Steve Rogers, the aforementioned next-door neighbor. Beside him is the flirt of Brooklyn, James Bucky Barnes dressed in his sergeant’s uniform with that dazzling smile directed at Laurel. 

The burn in my arm becomes unbearable when my eyes land on them and whatever heartbeat I had becomes even more erratic as I realize what’s happening. I’ve met Steve several times and never once has my mark burned like this. Sure it might itch when I walk past his door every now and then but I brushed it off. The only other person that could be causing this is Bucky, my best friend’s date.  My heart stops altogether when he turns to greet me, extending out his hand in a true gentleman’s manner, “Hi I’m Bucky, it’s nice to meet the girl Laurel has told me so much about.”

I’m completely and uttered screwed.

“I hope it’s been all good things,” I take his hand whilst hiding my left arm behind my back. If he notices it, he doesn’t say but there’s a flash of discomfort on his face when we shake hands. Of course, the first time we touch sends sparks through us both as if to say “Hey look it’s your match! Congrats!” He withdraws his hand and his brilliant blue eyes linger on me for too long as Laurel tries to usher us all out so we can start the night. 

Steve appears at my side, offering his arm, “It’s good to see you again. At least this time I’ll actually have someone to talk to.”

Grabbing my cardigan from the kitchen counter, I slip it on to hide my mark and take his arm while sending him a gentle smile, “I imagine you get dragged around on these dates a lot.” “Not as much as you’d think.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s you that I’ll be with all night. Given her track record, I was worried I might’ve ended up with a criminal or worse, a marine.”

He coughs to cover up his laugh, earning a look from the couple in front of us, “I feel like there’s a story there.”

“Not a very exciting one I’m afraid,” I whisper as we walk down the stairs of the apartment complex. 

Laurel breaks our little moment, spinning to face us as we step out onto the sidewalk, “How about some dancing?”

“I second that,” the laugh that comes from Bucky is like a dagger tearing through me. That laugh is meant to be reserved for me. That smile is meant to be directed at me. That look in his eye is meant for me but he is not mine at this moment and I don’t know if he’ll ever be mine. The chemistry between them is real, clear to see by the way they melt into each other when they start to walk again. With her at his side, he would never see me or the mark I’m certain we both wear and I have to accept that. 

Steve senses my hesitation and clears his throat to get my attention, “Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, just colder than I expected is all,” I force a smile as I reassure him, tucking into his side even though we’re similar in height. 

It’s his turn to be nervous as we continue down the street, “I don’t want this to come out the wrong way but I saw your mark.”

I stiffen beside him, “What?”

“I really don’t mean to overstep but I think you should know he has the same one,” he says looking straight ahead and I follow his eye line to his best friend who is leaning down to whisper something into Laurel’s ear. Giggles erupt from her as the heat of my body disappears and anxiety takes over me. I can hear my heartbeat pound in my ears as my breathing starts to become labored. Steve fails to keep me upright as my knees go weak and I stumble. My knees and hands catch the rough pavement, ripping at the soft skin and causing blood to leak from the cuts. The streetlights are blurred around me and all of the noise surrounding us becomes muffled. Water starts to envelop me from within, making it harder to swim to the surface of my emotions. Pain rockets from the torn skin and the mark when a warm and strong body pulls me off the ground into them. The sleeves of my cardigan are bunched up, revealing stems of my daffodils as his hands tightly grip my biceps to keep me steady. 

“Hey hey are you okay?” his angelic voice barely breaks through my haze and I can’t help the tears that escape from my eyes. Concern fills his face as he bends down to look me in the eye and survey my expression. The sparks from our handshake are tenfold now as he holds me, only fueling my anxiety until it’s unbearable. Pushing him away with the little strength I have, I stagger back and blindly wipe at them with the back of my hand. 

“I’m so sorry. I have to go,” is the only thing I can muster the strength to say. Laurel calls after me as I take off down the street and disappear into a cab, leaving my unknown lover behind. 

In the weeks following the rather disastrous date, Laurel had tried to call and drop by to see how I was doing. The embarrassment of it all kept me from answering her calls and it took all that I had to not just open the door when she called my name. A few times at the start she’d even brought Steve and Bucky with her, trying to use them as bait to get me to open the door. Every time they’d leave, I’d slide down the door, hand clasped over my mouth to muffle the sobs. Every fiber in me burned to see him again, to feel his presence around me just one more time before I’d have to let him go. 

At some point, Laurel stopped calling and coming over. She claimed she couldn’t handle the pain of trying to maintain our friendship anymore. It angered her that I wouldn’t open up about what happened that night or even try to get to know her new boyfriend better. She would go on and on about how it was ridiculous that I wanted to find my soulmate so badly but when it came to her, I wouldn’t be supportive. Hypocrite was one of her many names for me towards the end but I learned to ignore it. I knew that if I let her in, I would fold and tell her everything from the matching marks to who my parents were. I couldn’t bear to see her face when she realized that her new boyfriend was my soulmate. 

When she returned to her normal life, Steve began to send me letters to update me on him and Bucky but they slowed as he became busier and busier with being Captain America. I could feel the intense trauma that Bucky experienced but reading about it in the letters, relief washed over me knowing that Steve was able to protect him when I could not. Eventually, they stopped altogether and my connection to Bucky ended completely, leaving me in the dark and alone with vague emotions that had no context. 

1945 had been the worst year to date for me. I could still feel Bucky every now and then, waves of joy and desperation washing over me. It all stopped one bleak day in 1945. Collapsing to the ground as I did that day, I clutched my chest as my heart punched in my chest. The singe of my arm turned into a volcanic eruption whilst the pure terror Bucky felt tore me apart. Coworkers rushed to my side, all awaiting my reason for why I fell so suddenly. The same thing that kept me from speaking up during that date kept me from explaining. 

“I don’t… I don’t know. I’m sorry, I….I need to go,” stuttering, I scrambled away to escape from my own personal ring of Hell. 

Is this what it felt like to have your soulmate die?

My father did everything he could to console me when I showed up at his door sobbing and exhausted. The woman my mother had been reborn into quickly left when she saw me and didn’t return until I left again. Later I found out he had sent her away so I wouldn’t have to see them together and worsen my suffering. He listened to me babble about Bucky and how I had just him slip through my fingers. Tender words and cups of tea were all he could offer me as I cried and mourned the death of my almost soulmate. He knew the pain that I felt, the deep ache that would never leave me but there was nothing he could do or say to ease it given that I had been cursed with only one soulmate. I’m not sure how long I stayed with him, a shell of my former self acting as a ghost in his home. I’m not even entirely sure how I made it back to the cabin I had left nearly 30 years earlier but one night I fell asleep by his fireplace and awoke in my cabin’s bedroom.

The morning sunlight breaks through the transparent curtains that I never remembered to close. The wood walls are filled with paintings and photographs of my loved ones through the years. Various bought and propagated plants clutter the shelves that line the top of the cabin walls. Even though I’m deep in the woods, having nature inside made me feel even more connected to the Earth I’ve walked for nearly 300 years. During my many years, the cabin has become overwhelmed with pieces I couldn’t possibly bear to part with. The Persian rug given to me by my grandmother keeps my feet warm as I slide off the loft bed and shuffle toward the kitchen. Piles of blankets made by past versions of me spill from the baskets that fail at keeping them under the bed. Space is limited in the cabin however being surrounded by the memories of my life provided me with comfort.

Steve’s letters are laying on the kitchen counter wrapped neatly with string next to the tea kettle. A small photo of him and Bucky peaks out from between the letters. He’d sent it in hopes it would entice me to write to the other man but it only brought more torment to my weakened heart. The stems of his daffodils make an appearance in the photo, confirming what Steve told me. No longer able to stand the angst regrowing inside, I nudge the photo back into the pile and push it away from me. Filling the tea kettle with water, I light the stove and place it on a burner. The familiar sounds of crackling fire and bubbling water make it to my ears however I can’t stop staring at the letters with numerous questions popping up in my mind.

Did Bucky know that Steve had written to me?

Did he know about that picture?

Had it been a spur-of-the-moment, taken just for me, or an old one Steve packed around?

Did Steve tell him about our marks? Who I really was to him?

Did he die knowing I was his soulmate or did he die thinking he was alone?

As if the gods knew I needed a break from my internal torture, the kettle whistles and washes away the cloud of questions that had floated in. With a cup of tea in my hands, I return to my bed and cover myself with an aging-knitted blanket, letting the warmth soothe the tension in my muscles. I had spent my life searching and praying for my soulmate but now that he was gone, I have no idea what to do. My life’s mission is gone, leaving me with the unanswered question of what to do next. Maintaining my garden and the forest around my cabin would provide only so much relief. I would have to find something else to occupy my time however, grieving will have to do until then.

A side effect of being half god is never really remembering what year it is. Already being a forgetful person, keeping track of the year is something I never get better at. Calendars are only helpful if one remembers to keep them updated and asking someone the year earns weird looks because why would someone forget what year it is. The only thing that helps with this is the weather and gardening. The changing weather patterns and sunlight schedules are my solutions because in order to garden, I have to know the seasons and thus I can kind of guess the year based on what season it is. Still, I get it wrong when my father visits, complaining that it’s been nearly 20 years since we last saw each other.

“Did you forget about me? It’s been two decades since I saw you last” he jokes, pulling me into a tight hug, “I missed you, dearest.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I just got so caught up and time slipped away,” I ramble on, trying to excuse my negligence.

He smiles and quietly shushes me before bending down to look at the daffodils I had been tending to when he arrived, “Seeing you happy again is worth the long wait. How are you doing?”

I shrug, “Better. It’s been difficult but things are getting better.”

“Good, good. Time really does heal our inner wounds.”

“Is it a time or do we just force ourselves to cope so we don’t seem lost in our grief? Because I have a hard time believing that the number of years passing by is the reason I don’t cry every day.”

“It may be both. I wouldn’t discount the work you’ve done to move on…”

My soft scoff stops him mid-sentence, “You make it sound like I lost my favorite book or something. I can’t ‘move on’ from this, I will always feel the hole he left. My heart will always ache in such a way that it eats me alive at night. There is a life and a love I will never have because my own fear stopped me from reaching out to him. I never got to see goodbye and now there’s a permanent absence, sudden, abrupt, and louder than anything could ever be. Yes the world kept spinning and life went on but it was never the same again. I will never be the same again.”

“Dearest you know I didn’t mean to diminish what you’re going through. I simply meant…” He tries to backtrack and save himself from my scorn.

“What you said and what you meant are two different things. Regardless I do not care to have this conversation,” I stop at the cabin’s door, turning to look over my shoulder at him, “You’re welcome to stay for dinner as long as you don’t bring him up again.”

Nodding, he follows me inside and continues to marvel at my green thumb. If I can’t nurture the future I want, I can at least care for my plants with the same passion.

My braid falls down my back, flyaways and loose strands having escaped amid the fight. My chest is rising and falling quickly as I try to regain my breath, the braid slipping off to the side. Pieces too short to reach the back have fallen in my face, barely hiding the blood and cuts that mark my face. I take in shaky breaths as I kneel on the ground, my hands flat against the ground, trying to find stability.

The two men are watching me, their chests heaving in an effort from fighting me. Neither move, too caught up in observing every movement I make. I drag my hands to my knees as I sit back on my haunches.

“I come in peace. I swear,” I rasp as I try to steady myself, muscles screaming in agony.

The brunette scoffs at my weak white flag as the other man takes a careful step forward.

“What are you doing here?” the closer man asks.

I wipe at the blood dripping from my nose, “I could ask you two the same thing. They sent here me on a pre-sweep before Walker comes to do a photo shoot.”

The brunette shoves his gun into the waistband of his pants and shakes his head at my answer. The other name gives him a confused look, “Walker?”

“The son of bitch can’t even do his own missions without a babysitter,” the brunette mumbles while searching the room for what the three of us had been fighting over, a vial that has rolled dangerously close to me.

“Wait, so they send in a solo agent to do a clearance sweep for him?” the other man asks.

I spot the vial but push it toward the men, wanting nothing to do with it.

“Yeah, well he is Shield’s newest shiny toy, and they can’t afford to replace him if something were to happen. So they send in replaceable people like me to do the hard part, and he comes in during the last minute to take all the of the credit,” I laugh humorlessly. I make no attempt to move as my body starts to ache and fatigue sets in. I’ve been doing this for far too long with too little sleep and even less food and water. A part of me had hoped that they would’ve just killed me during the fight, so I could finally get some peace and get away from Walker. The life I once had was too far gone to even think about running away from it. There is nothing left for me at this point and giving the vial over might as well be the last nail in my coffin.

The brunette picks up the vial, eyeing me for just handing it over. His hands are covered by gloves by the whirring of mechanics is unmistakable. I know all too well who these two men are, and I also know I won’t survive another fight with them or the wrath of my“employers”.

Gesturing to the vial, I caught his eye, “I don’t want whatever the hell that is. I don’t even know what it is but if you’re here for it, it definitely can’t get into Walker’s hands. Just take it and get the hell out. He’ll be here in maybe 20 minutes and won’t exactly like seeing the Falcon and Winter Solider.”

Sam reaches a hand out to me, “You’re coming with us.”

I brush his hand away and shaking stand up, body crying out in protest. Going with them means more running, more fighting, and more hiding. I can’t take it anymore. I’d rather die at this point.

“No. Just get out. I won’t say anything about you two being here.”

Bucky speaks up, “And why would you do that?”

“You’re not the bad guys here. Just go. You don’t have much time,” I grumble, picking up my gun and reholstering it. My black suit is ripped and blood is gluing it to my skin. I’m sure I look like a complete mess but it matches how I feel.

Before anyone can speak, the static of a radio roars into the room. Sam picks up the radio and tosses it to me.

“Agent Echo, status update now!” a demanding voice comes through.

Rolling my eyes, I press the call button, “Pre sweep complete. I ran into some trouble but the building is clear.”

“Trouble?” the sneer can be heard through the garble of the radio.

“The building wasn’t exactly clear like you had said so yes I ran into some trouble but I’m fine thank you for asking.”

“Be at the meeting spot in 5 minutes.”

“Copy that,” I say like mentally screaming and imagining that I’m throwing the radio at the wall.

“Like I said,” I turn to Sam and Bucky, “you don’t have much time so get the hell out.”

My legs begin to shake as I try to take a step and I collapse to the floor, the world fading to nothing.

Groaning, I try to move my body to regain feeling but something prevents me from doing so. My eyes blink rapidly to accommodate the light that blinds me and the two men come into view. I look down too fast, causing a head rush, but spot the chair that I’m bound to.

“Woah, woah, don’t move too fast,” Sam says as he approaches me and kneels down to meet my eye line.

“Walker wasn’t going to let you live after we took the vial so we took you with us,” he explains, no malicious is seen on his face.

I chuckle at his words and pull my head up to catch Bucky’s eyes. He’s still as stoic as before, with no emotion to be found on his face. Out of the corner of her eye, a blonde woman is sitting at a dimly lit table and a man wearing a massive fur-lined coat is sitting with her.

“The whole gang's back together I see.”

The blonde shifts in her chair, metal creaking against the cement floor, “What were you doing in that building?”

Sam stands and rejoins Bucky, pulling him aside into a hushed conversation. I glance over to the blonde who I recognize as Sharon Carter. The third man is, of course, the Baron, and I can’t help the laugh that threatens to bubble up.

“No reason”

“No reason?” Sharon repeats.

“Yep. No reason.”

“Who are you?”

“No one.”

The baron now looks impatient and uncrosses his legs to recross them.

“No one?”

I shrug, “Yep.”

Sharon huffs at my remark and looks to Bucky and Sam for some help.

“They called you Agent Echo,” Sam offers up.

“She can’t possibly be Agent Echo. She’s dead,” Sharon answers.

“Oh look at you with all the answers,” I try to make a fist to try and restart blood flow to my hand. I had landed in glass shards and there are pieces still embedded in my palm, too small to have shaken out.

“Try again. You’re not Agent Echo so who are you?” Sharon leans forward in her chair, causing the chair to groan again under the strain.

“A person,” slowly my fingers start to feel warm again and I move to try and wiggle my feet around.

A loud grunt is heard as the baron decides that a sudden show of aggression is needed to scare the truth out of me. He crosses the room in a few steps, heavy boots pounding the cement when he leans too close to me. All I do is raise my head and we are now inches from each other’s faces.

“I suggest you take a step back, Helmut,” I whisper as the baron tries to hold a solid facade.

Bucky is the one to pull the baron back, thoroughly over this show of dominance. He pushes him back towards his chair before retaking his place next to Sam.

“How do you know who he is?” questions Sam.

“That’s not important. Now what I want to know is how you got me out of there without a brigade of super soldiers on your tail.”

“We snuck out the way we came. It wasn’t hard.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Agent Echo was said to be a half god, half human,” Sharon now has all eyes on her, “Even when they found a body, it was highly likely that it wasn’t actually her. The body they found was missing their left arm so they couldn’t officially match the marks. The only way to tell if she really is Echo is to check her left arm.”

All eyes are on me now and the world starts to close in on me. The anxiety of having my mark revealed and the fear of unveiling my true identity is becoming too much to handle. My body can barely keep itself awake at this point and adding on this pressure is not making it any easier. Everyone is waiting for me to speak but nothing comes out.

“No,” my voice cracks as I try to get words out, “You will not put a hand on me.”

Sam goes to speak but is stopped by me choking out more words, “Whether or not I’m Agent Echo is not important. What is, is getting that vial out of here and getting into hiding. Walker will no doubt be ferocious that it’s missing so it’s only a matter of time before he comes busting down doors.”

“Check her arm,” Sharon tells Sam.

“Do not touch me,” I try to wiggle away from him but with the ropes, I have nowhere to go and no choice other than to let him pull my sleeve up.

My breathing is too quick, too close to having a full-blown panic attack when the daffodils are on display for everyone to see. I don’t miss the confused look Bucky is wearing as he narrows in on them, trying to put the pieces together in his head. He must have recognized me to some degree back during the fight but brushed it off until now, faced with the undeniable evidence that we do know each other.

Sharon approaches me, inspecting my mark, “How are you still alive?”

“Is that really the question you want to ask right now?”

“Yes now answer me.”

“It takes a lot more to kill someone like me. The body they found was an accident. I hadn’t planned on faking my death but it worked out to my benefit until Walker had the body reexamined and found out it wasn’t me. America needed their Agent Echo again so he tracked me down and brought me back. ”

Sharon rolls her eyes and tries to explain how implausible that sounds. Bucky silences her with a look as he walks toward me and starts to undo my binds. He doesn’t say a word while he does so and silently hopes that I won’t say anything either. With the final bind undone, it takes everything in me to not wrap him in my arms. Here he is; standing right in front of me alive is my soulmate. He stands and backs up to Sam before his resolve breaks and he unleashes the thousands of questions he has on me.

“Why’d you do that?” Sam whispers.

“I know her,” he whispers back.

Sharon had left us and the men are all sitting around the table talking amongst themselves. I can hear the conversation from the bathroom as I gingerly pull the suit from my body. As it drops to the floor, it makes a disgusting wet sound and I nearly gag. The shower running covers the noise and I continue to take off the Shield-issued clothes. One by one the filthy garments leave my body until I’m left with nothing but my skin and wounds that definitely need tending to. I grimace at the black, blues, and yellows that litter my body and the caked blood that will take so much scrubbing to get off.

Stepping into the shower, I hiss at the feeling of warm water on my skin. There isn’t much in the shower aside from a bottle of 3 in 1 and an unused washcloth Sam gave to me. So starts the long process of ridding myself of blood and dirt. In slow circles, I scrub at the filth and watch as the muddy water flows down the drain. My hair is a problem I’m not sure I want to tackle but know I have to. Stiff fingers unravel the braid and tangles make it nearly impossible to do it gently. I wash what I can from it, knowing it won’t be nearly as clean as it could be.

After I finish washing what sins I can away, I step out of the shower and wrap a rough towel around my body. A fresh stack of clothes sits on the counter, thanks to Sharon. I know not to be ungrateful but I also don’t want to owe Sharon anything. However, my alternative is the bloody suit on the floor so the borrowed clothes will have to do.

I slip on the jeans and tug the red long-sleeve henley over my head, pulling my wet mass of hair out of the collar. There is a familiar scent on the shirt that I can’t place. Sitting on the toilet, I put socks on and lace up the boots Sharon definitely didn’t want to give up. I finger comb what tangles I can out and rebraid my hair, leaving a wet mark on my back but at least I have clean clothes on. Before leaving the bathroom, I grab my bloody suit and toss it into the main room’s fire without a word.

I take the open seat in between Sam and Bucky. Sam starts to question me about how I’m doing and how my shower was. I nod along politely and say my thanks for giving me a place to stay. My attention isn’t fully on Sam though, my mind drifting away to Walker and the possibility that he might find me. The baron says some off-handed comment causing me to look over at him and the smell hits me. With Bucky sitting right next to me, his cologne wafts past me and it’s the same as the shirt. He must have given Sharon one of his old shirts for me to change into.

“Wow, I haven’t seen that henley in forever, Buck,” Sam chuckles as he eyes the red henley I’m wearing.

“I forgot I even had it,” Bucky replies and gets up, “I’ll take first shift watch.”

“I will too,” I interject while Sam smirks to himself.

“Go right ahead,” he says before walking off into another room, the Baron following suit.

Bucky still hasn’t spoken or even looked at me and I’m growing restless, fingers tapping rapidly on my knee.

“How do I know you?” I almost don’t hear his quiet voice as he’s watching out the window with his back to me. The uncertainty in his voice pulls at my heart and that little string that ties us together in destiny. When the Winter Soldier first emerged, I felt a faint tug but never enough to convince me that he was still alive. From time to time, I would become overwhelmed with suffering and anger so deep, it would incapacitate me for hours. It wasn’t until it was revealed who the Winter Soldier really was that it all clicked into place for me. Even though I had worked with SHIELD for many years under Nick Fury, I refused to be a part of anything to do with super soldiers and Hydra. I would do anything else Fury needed of me but that was my one condition; I will be completely in the dark about Hydra and super soldiers. Walker, however, became too greedy to find the serum and dragged me back into the ring against my will. God or not, he had beaten me down until I was a shell of the agent I had been before. Now face to face with Bucky, I’m beating myself up internally for not learning more about Hydra. Had I known maybe I would’ve been able to save him sooner. “Do you want the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember a girl named Laurel?”

He’s turned to face me, leaning against the window, and nods.

“What about the double date in 1943? You’d come home on leave and she wanted to go on a double date with Steve and one of her friends.”

He says my name with such disbelief that I’m here in front of me, “Your mark. That’s the reason you ran away that night?”

“I couldn’t tell you after I saw how well you two got along. It didn’t feel right to me to break up your relationship, especially with how enamored she was with you.”

“Did you even take into consideration what I might have wanted?”

“It wouldn’t have been fair…”

His booming voice halts me mid-sentence, “No what wasn’t fair was to run from me and not even try to tell me. When we shook hands, I knew there was something between us and then when I picked you up, I felt that spark again. I tried to go after you, to visit you. Hell, I even had Steve write to you to make sure you were okay. I tried but you didn’t.”

“You have no idea what I’ve done to find you,” standing up from the table, my voice wavers with tears, “I waited for 200 years to feel you be born and then I had to wait another 26 years to meet only to see you with another girl. I ran because I couldn’t stand to watch you and Laurel together after waiting so long to finally meet you. When I finally worked up the courage to find you again, I felt you die and then I felt only pain for the next 70 years. It consumed me until I had nothing left. Working as Agent Echo was about the only thing that kept me from losing it all and just ending it. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be in misery that long?”

“You felt me die?”

“Back in 1945 when you fell from the train. Obviously, I know now that you didn’t die but it most certainly felt that way.”

“And you felt everything when I was…” he trails off, unable to say the words so I fill in for him.

“Yes, even then I went through it all. I met Steve again before everything and he told me about it and what really happened.”

There’s a spilt second of silence as he mulls over my words. My eyes fall to his left arm where his matching mark should be but it’s been replaced with metal.

“He never told me about that.”

“Because I asked him not to. I wasn’t sure if you would be ready or even want to see me so I asked him to wait. I had it all planned out; he was going to take you on a trip to my cabin under the guise of a friend’s weekend so I could tell you everything. We agreed that it would be better if he brought you to me rather than me just springing it all on you without warning. Then the blip and Thanos happened and he was gone.”

Once again he doesn’t respond right away while his jaw clenches and tears brim his eyes. Hesitantly I make my way to him slowly so I don’t scare him. After the nearly 80 years it had been since I last saw him, so much had changed in him but the one thing that never left is the ghost of his boyish smile. Even now as he tries to hold back the storm of emotions inside, the wrinkles from years of smiling and laughter are visible.

My hand lands on his cheek, guiding him to look at me, “I’m sorry that I ran and that I didn’t try harder to find you but I’m here now and I’ll stay by your side. I will love you until the sky above darkens and even then I’ll stay by your side in the afterglow.”

Bucky drops his forehead to mine and his arms cradle my face while the tears fall freely now, “Please don’t leave again.”

“I won’t.”

[canaryarts-br]

Bucky Barnes 🖌️

[lovelywritinglady]

Forgiveness pt.1

Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Reader is a victim of the Winter Soldier. When Bucky finds her to apologize, she tries to shoot him thinking he’s still the Winter Soldier. Angst, fluff, mentors of violence and blood, Bucky spills his heart out to you. Takes place during Falcon And The Winter Soldier.

Ten years ago...

Shots rung through the alleyway, a man now was dead. As a man with a sliver metal arm stood above him with an expressionless face. He turned around to leave the alleyway only to notice a girl standing there in absolute horror. Y/N was frozen with fear and only came to her senses when the man began to walk closer to her. She screamed and began running from him. However, he caught up with her shooting her in the leg. She fell down hard as her face hit the sidewalk as the blood began to pour from her fractured nose. He came towards her and began punching her face, stomach, and pressing his foot on her injury. Her screamed echoed through the night. He looked down at her with the same expression as the man he killed. She knew this was where she was going to die. Until a bright light cascaded on their bodies, blinding the man standing before her. She saw his face, from his blue eyes, and blood splattered face. If she wasn't being murdered right now she'd think this man was handsome. He then ran back into the alleyway and somehow disappeared. Y/N cried not just from her injuries, but from the sweet relief that her life might last a little bit longer. A police officer knelt down towards her asking her questions, but she couldn't respond still coming down from the adrenaline rush she just had. She knew that if she ever saw that man with the silver arm again, she would be ready to face him.

Bucky's Pov

Apologizing has been one of the hardest things I've needed to do. Looking into the eyes of my victims or their loved ones makes me feel a guilt that is all consuming. My therapist suggested that this was a good idea, but it sure as hell doesn't feel that way. I'd rather just send them a letter and a gift basket, but I know these people deserve much better than that. I was near done with my list, as I just talked to two of the last three on my list. Their tears and screams will keep me up at night for the rest of my life. Part of me thought that I deserve it, but at the same time it wasn't me who killed or hurt those people, it was The Winter Soldier.

The sun was beginning to set in the sky as the chill of the coming night began to fill the air. Walking up to the apartment building, I took a deep breath trying to calm myself. I really hurt his girl, and I could understand if she could never forgive me, I certainly wouldn't. Her name was Y/n L/N.As I got to her apartment I hesitated knocking on her door. What I did to her was pure evil and from what I've heard about her is that she's had to go through years of therapy because of it. Taking a leap of faith, I knocked on the door. After a couple of seconds, I heard footsteps and then the door opened slightly reveling her. She was beautiful, her hair was a lovely h/c, her eyes looked tired and I was guessed she was going to bed. Her face was laced with confusion before quickly changing into horror.

"Get the hell away from me." She snapped

"Please I'm not him anymore." I pleated

"You're a fucking liar!" She cried running quickly into her kitchen grabbing a gun from under her sink. She then pointed the gun at me and fired, which bounced off my metal hand that I used to protect myself.

"Y/N, please just hear me out. I'm not him anymore!?" I shouted raising my hand in the air.

"Why in the hell would I do that?" She yelled

"Look I don't know. All I know is that I hurt you in horrible ways and I'm so sorry that I did." I said softly looking into her eyes.

"I nearly died because of you. And you came to apologize?" She questioned still pointing the gun at me.

"You're right, I promise after I'm done you will never see me again." I promised her lowering my hands.

"Fine, you have two minutes and if you're not out by then I will shoot you in the fucking head. Do you understand?" She said sternly

"Yes, I understand." I responded lowering my hands

"Stay standing and don't make any sudden movements." She ordered lowering her gun but still holding it.

"You got it." I said

"Talk." she ordered

"I know that I hurt you and I came here to say sorry. I'm not that monster anymore and I can assure you that he's dead. He will never hurt you or anyone else again. He was a tool for H.Y.D.R.A and I had no say in what I did. They brainwashed me and forced my body to kill innocent people. I'm not trying to condone my actions, I'm just trying to explain. " I calmly said trying not to make her more scared. Her eyes seemed to soften a little.

"Do you remember everything?" She questioned

"Yes, I remember all of them. Every single person, from their cries, to the sound of their blood hitting the ground. I remember how it felt to kill them and how little I cared. I never want to be like that again, and I've gone through a lot to make sure that I don't." I said tears prickling my eyes.

"So what's your real name then?" she questioned hesitantly

"James Buchanan Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky." I told her with a slight smile.

"Good name, hell of a lot better than The Winter Soldier." She joked hesitantly

"Yeah." I chucked

"So you weren't the one doing all of that, are you sure?" she questioned placing the gun on the counter to her right.

"No I wasn't, I would never have hurt you, I promise." I reassured giving her a smile.

"I still can't forgive you." She admitted

"I know and I don't expect you to. What I did, what he did, was unforgivable." I stated sadly. "I should go, thank you for your time."

"Yeah, no problem." she said softly

"See you around." I said turning around to leave her nice apartment.

"Wait, can I have your number? Not for anything like that or whatever, but if I do forgive you, I'd like to let you know." She cried out getting my attention with her phone in hand.

"Sure, I'd love to." I smiled at her grabbing her phone and putting my number in. After I did, I put 'Bucky' as my name in her contacts, hoping she wouldn't mind.

"Thanks." She whispered

"Have a goodnight." I whispered looking into her eyes

"You too, stay outta trouble." She joked

"You too." I laughed leaving her apartment. I left feeling satisfied with what I had accomplished yet still hoping one day she can forgive me.

Three months later...

Sam and I decided to head to his favorite bar in his hometown. We were laughing and telling good stories from our pasts. Today we fixed his family's boat and decided to celebrate with a couple of drinks. I was on my third beer when all of the sudden my phone vibrated. Curiously, I looked down only to be texted by someone I honestly thought I'd never hear from. Tears ran down my face as I read the simple but important message.

'I forgive you'

Thank you so much for reading! This is the first Marvel fic I’ve written. Should I do a part 2?

Requests, comments, and reblogs are welcome.

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

(Part 1)(Part 2)

[simplyholl]

Filthy

Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

See my Masterlist Here

"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.

You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didn’t blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.

That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.

You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.

Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.

The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.

One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.

He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.

You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."

Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"

Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.

You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.

"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.

Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.

He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.

He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.

You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.

"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.

"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.

His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.

His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.

You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.

He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.

He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.

He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.

His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.

His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.

His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.

He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.

He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.

His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.

You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.

You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.

Tags in the comments! ❤️

[crowsofdarkness]

Bucky makes for a great teacher: pt. 1

18+ CW's below the cut(Bucky's dirty mouth, touching his cock over his jeans, inexperienced reader)

teach me masterlist

Bucky radiated body heat, it wrapping around me and causing a slick sweat to gather at the back of my neck. I tried to keep my hair down all night while we hung out in the Avengers common room watching a movie. Everyone had left awhile ago, leaving me alone with Bucky. With the way he had been watching me with sheer intensity, I quickly gathered my hair to throw it up into a ponytail. That simple action made him swallow thickly while shifting in his seat. 

“What?” I asked. “Did I do something?” 

With the way he was smirking, I could tell he was far from uncomfortable. The relationship between us was an odd one. I was still new on the team, only becoming a member a few weeks ago. But ever since my first day here, I felt this undeniable pull from Bucky. He would never come out right and say how he felt but he showed it with the way he flirted with me. 

“You threw your hair up in a ponytail after looking at my dick,” he said with a blunt tone. 

I blinked at Bucky with my mouth agape, not expecting him to say that. I’d never been around someone who spoke so straightforward like that so I expected myself to be disgusted. Instead, I found myself aroused because I definitely had been staring at his dick ever since he sat down next to me. 

“I wasn’t,” I shook my head. “Wait, what does me throwing my hair up in a ponytail have anything to do with your-.” 

I couldn’t say the word out loud. Thinking the word wasn’t an issue but actually spitting out the word gave me pause. 

Bucky’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, a movement I tracked with careful precision. 

“Dick,” he said the word slowly at first, hoping I’d repeat it. 

Instead I looked down at my lap to avoid eye contact with him which made him drag his vibranium fingers along the exposed skin of the back of my neck. 

“Do you really not know what it means when a woman throws up her hair after staring at a guy’s dick?” He wondered with a slight chuckle. 

I swallowed thickly, shivering under his touch and kept my voice quiet as I spoke. “There’s a lot I don’t know.”

There was this untenable pull from Bucky from the moment I bumped into him in the hallway my first day here. Something about the darkness in his eyes told me that he’d show me the dark parts of myself that were fighting to break through. The part of me that came alive while reading those dark romance books. 

“Do you want to know what it means?” Bucky questioned. 

Slowly lifting my gaze from my lap to meet his burning one, I gave him a slight nod after thinking it over. It was just an answer to a question I had, surely it wouldn’t hurt knowing. 

Bucky sat closer to me, gathering the ends of my hair between his fingers. “Typically, when someone throws up their hair in a ponytail, it means they’re getting ready to suck someone's dick.” 

I let out a shocked breath while glancing down at his lap, directly where his dick was. My hand was so close to his thigh as it was perched in my own lap and I nearly reached for him. 

“That’s-uh-,” my words fell away again when I felt his fingers graze down the side of my neck, over my collar bone. 

When I swallowed, Bucky tracked the movement with his thumb. 

“Are you saying you’ve never done that when you suck a guy's dick?” There was an oddly comforting and playful tone to his question. 

If it were anyone else being so upfront and vulgar I would have smacked them however the voice in my mind told me to continue on with him. 

“I’ve never actually done that before,” I motioned with my eyes towards his lap. 

Bucky choked on a laugh as his hand dropped away from me only for his face to go stone when he realized I wasn't joking. 

“You’ve never given head before?”

I shook my head, feeling even smaller than I was. Embarrassment filled me as he continued to stare at me with a bewildered look. Any chance I had to possibly have something with Bucky went down the drain. 

Why do you think he’d even go for someone like you? Have you seen him? 

Ignoring not only the stabbing in my heart but the voice in my head that often chastised me, I gave a somber shrug. 

“I’ve already embarrassed myself enough tonight. I think I’m going to head to bed,” I said while rising to my feet only to yanked back down onto the couch in my previous spot. 

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Bucky asked with a tender tone. 

Immediately I shook my head. “No! You’re fine. It's just-I’m not used to talking about sex. I’ve been called a prude basically my entire life so to hear you be so open talking about it makes me feel embarrassed that I don't understand the reason why someone putting their hair up was a sexual act. Now I’m rambling and making more of an idiot myself and I wish someone would just shut me up.” 

“Do you want to?” 

My eyes snapped over to him after I pinched them shut. “Wh-what?” 

Bucky eased back into the couch, showing more of his lap at me; an open invitation. “Do you want to suck my cock?” 

The way he asked the question made my cheeks inflame with heat and I squeezed my thighs together when that heat spread straight to my core. With a quick flick down towards his lap, I could see the faintest outline of his cock against his jeans and didn’t stop myself from licking my lips. 

“I want to do something else,” I rushed out.

A low hum vibrated from the back of his throat. “What’s that?” 

I didn’t speak, simply kept my eyes on him, hoping he caught on so I didn’t have to say it outloud. 

“Doll, you have to use your words,” Bucky spoke while brushing his own hand over his cock causing both of us to share a moan. “Oh, is that what you want? You want to touch my cock?” 

I nodded feverishly, not knowing where this part of me came from. I’d never been this up front with anyone so I was surprised at myself. 

“Then take it,” he demanded while palming himself. 

I didn’t. 

I began shrinking into myself, becoming the form of me I was familiar with. The one that was called prude her entire life. 

“Doll,” Bucky moaned while bucking his hips into his own hand. “Take it.” 

I felt frozen in front of him, unable to push through the wall that suddenly built itself inside of my mind. All the teasing I’d gone through all throughout high school and the mental abuse from my ex were pestering inside of me, telling me I would do something wrong with Bucky and he would simply laugh in my face for how inexperienced I was. 

The loud voices seized when Bucky grabbed my hand and forced it on his cock, replacing his own hand. A gasp fell from my lips when I finally could feel what I couldn’t stop staring at it all night. 

“Oh god, it’s so-.” Like before, I couldn't finish my sentence, truly taken aback by the size I felt beneath my palm. 

My hand remained frozen, unsure what to do with it, so Bucky began guiding it. Up and down. 

“Just like that, doll. Press your palm against it,” he was breathless. 

Following his guidance, I began pressing my palm harder against his cock and he let his head fall back to the arm of the couch.

“Fuck,” Bucky hissed when I pressed to hard against his cock and I wretched my hand back. 

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” 

His head lifted from the couch and the haze look in his eyes made me whimper. 

“No, Doll. Quite the opposite,” Bucky reached for my hand again but I hesitated. 

“Maybe we should stop this. I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m sure you can find someone with more experience,” I rambled on. 

Once again he grabbed my hand and brought it back to his cock, my actions picking up almost instantly with his next words. 

“I just want you.” 

Those four words fueled the confidence in me as I began playing with his cock over his jeans again. Rubbing it as best as I could even though I wanted to slip my hand in his pants. 

“You’re doing so good, Doll,” Bucky praised. 

I whimpered again at the praise as I found myself kneeling between his legs so I could get a better angle with my hand. I dragged my finger down the length of it as his cock pressed hard against the zipper and when I could vaguely feel the head of it, I tested the waters by rubbing it between my thumb and finger. 

His hips bucked up into my hand causing him to curse before gently removing my hand and bringing it to his chest, halting my movements. I couldn’t stop the tears that began to well in my eyes for being stopped yet again. 

“No tears on that pretty face. The first time I cum, I want it to be down your throat,” Bucky explained while sitting up with a groan, adjusting himself in his jeans. 

My heart rate picked up as my hand continued to be pressed against the broadness of his chest. 

“I told you. I’ve never done that before,” I reminded him. 

With one thumb brushing against the back of my hand, the other dragged over my bottom lip causing me to suck in a breath. 

“It’s alright, doll. I’ll work you up to it.” 

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

I seen this gif of Bucky and immediately thought of him taking a nap on the couch with yours and his newborn daughter sleeping peacefully on his chest and Alpine sleeping on the arm of the couch next to his head and you come home from the grocery store to see the cuteness overload on the couch and can’t help but take a picture of your two favorite people🥹🩵

Take A Pic, It'll Last Longer

PAIRINGS: James "Bucky" Barnes x Wife!Reader

WARNINGS: extreme fluff

WORD COUNT: 753

Sighing hard, you drop the heavy plastic bags at the door. You, being you, were too stubborn to make two rounds to just get groceries. Yes, the apartment has an elevator, but you were that girl.

You toe off your shoes and hang your purse on one of the multiple hooks beside the front door. And you pause, realising one major thing.

It is quiet, extremely quiet.

"Honey?" you whisper into the front hall, waiting for a reply. But to your surprise, there isn't any response.

You walk slowly, your body on high alert, as you turn the hall and look at the sight before you.

Your whole body relaxes instantly at the scene draped across your grey couch.

Your husband lays across the three-seater, with his metal arm secured around your four-month-old daughter on his chest. You pout, and your heart warms even further when you see Alpine sleeping in the crook of his neck. Her head's on the armrest and her tail hanging over the edge of the couch.

"Aww," you whisper. You quickly pulled out your phone and snapped a very cosy aesthetic picture of the scene in front of you.

Bucky's super-hearing hears the shutter of the camera and stirs awake. His arm is secured around his little girl as he manoeuvres Alpine easily.

"Doll?" His voice rough with sleep, "you finished quickly." He places the cat gently on the couch and walks over to you, giving you a loving kiss on your lips.

"Not many things to get," you smile up at him. Your baby stirs awake to both your voices and begins to whimper at the disturbance. Bucky bounces her on his arm, and her cries are quickly soothed.

"Hand her over, I need to feed her," you say tiredly, already dreading the task of putting the groceries away. You pluck the baby from his hands and Bucky rubs your shoulders, "alright. Then I'll put the groceries away, love." It's like he read your mind.

You groan and thank him.

-----

You wake up to the sound of your alarm and harshly tap at your phone to hit snooze. Bucky wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you to his chest.

"Why do you have to put that thing to go off so early babe?" he groans into your hair. You chuckle and rub his arm, "because any second now, your daughter is going to get hungry and start crying."

And as if on cue, you hear the tiny wails of your little girl from down the hall. He chuckles and kisses the nape of your neck, "don't know how you do it."

You laugh and slide off the bed, "oh, and my other alarm is also set, so just switch it off when it goes off, yeah?"

Bucky nods with his eyes closed, not wanting to get up.

The alarm you told him about goes off about fifteen minutes later.

Bucky groans while he reaches for your phone on the nightstand, and he switches the alarm off.

He was about to turn your phone off and put it away, but that's before he realizes that you changed your wallpaper.

It used to be a picture of you two on your wedding day, but now it's a picture of him, your daughter and Alpine sleeping on the couch.

His heart warms, and he silently thanks his lucky stars for finding a woman like you after all this time. After everything reality has put him through, he's thankful that the universe has given you to him as a sorry for all the harsh moments they’ve dumped on him.

-----

You quickly shoulder your satchel and check the battery of your phone, before pulling on your heels and grabbing your car keys.

"Bucky, babe, I'm leaving for work!" You exclaim, at your husband who is currently changing your baby girl's diaper.

He walks out of the nursery with your daughter in his arms, and he gives you kiss on your lips, "have a good day sweetie, someone's gonna miss you."

Your little girl shrieks and giggles at you as you kiss her chubby cheek, "gonna miss you too, lovebug."

Bucky opens the door for you and you two have your last 'goodbye' kiss

"Oh and one more thing," Bucky says into the hallway of the apartment. You look back confused, "what is it?"

Did you forget something? Was something missing? What was it?

"Don't forget to send me that photo, your wallpaper," he winks at you and closes the door.

💌💌💌

What a beautiful ask, I really enjoyed writing this!!!!

Sorry for the late reply, was caught up on some uni work lmao.

Hope y'all enjoyed it!!!

Till' then

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[marvelavengerspovs1]

Puppy Love Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky x F!reader

Warnings: Fluff

Length: 984

Summary: You and Bucky finally name the new puppy and introduce Alpine.

A/N: If you haven’t read pt. 1 yet, here’s the link! How would y’all feel if I made this into a mini-series? I just love the idea of Alpine and a puppy!

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

Once Bucky opened the door, he fell in love. How could he not? The way that the puppy looked up at the both of you, wagging it’s tail was too much for both of your hearts.

Bucky sits on the floor with the puppy, petting it and smiling. “Ok, I can see why you brought it home.”

You close the door behind you, making sure Alpine stays out of the room. “Yeah, he’s too cute.”

“It’s a boy?”

“Mhm!” You hum. “We do need to take him to the vet though, gotta make sure that he has all of his shots.”

The puppy lets out a soft bark and you hear a soft meow on the other side of the door. The puppy tilts his head before wandering to the door to sniff out the culprit. He sits at the door, pawing at it with his tail wagging.

“He really wants to meet Alpine,” You smile back at Bucky.

Bucky smiles at you but you can tell that he’s getting nervous. You place your hand on his knee and gently kiss his lips.

“Alpine is going to love him, I promise you.” You reassure the super soldier.

Bucky nods and looks back at the door. He notices that the puppy has gotten up and is playing with Alpine’s paw that she managed to wedge beneath the door. Bucky relaxes a little and smiles.

“You know, we should probably give the puppy a name.” Bucky looks at you.

Your smile widens. “Ok, let’s think of some names and then we’ll narrow it down.”

Bucky pulls you into his lap as you both watch the puppy, thinking about his name. You play with Bucky’s fingers as the names start to come to you.

“Ok, I have 5,” You turn and look at Bucky.

“I have a couple too,” He smiles at you and gives you a quick peck.

“Ok, you go first!”

“What do you think about Max?”

“Uh… I don’t hate it.” You shrug.

“Ok, well you give me a name and we’ll switch off.”

“How do you feel about Archer?”

“I feel the same way you feel about Max. What about Buster?”

You laugh at that name. “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think that I’m laughing at you, it just sounds like what an old person would name their dog.”

Bucky pinches your hip and you yelp. “Hey! I’m not old!”

You snort. “Says the man who is 107. Ok, what about Romeo?”

“I’m definitely vetoing that one. What about Rocky?”

“I would love the name Rocky if he was like gray or black, but he’s a light brown.” Bucky nods his head and looks over at the puppy, still playing with Alpine.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“How do you feel about Peter?” You suggest.

Bucky looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Are you only suggesting Taylor Swift-themed names?”

You gasp and dramatically place a hand on your chest. “How dare you accuse me of something like that? I would never-” Bucky gives you one look and you cave. “Ok, yes I am. But you love her too and she has some pretty good dog names.”

Bucky nods his head in agreement. “You got me there, I do love Folklore and Evermore. But we are definitely not naming our dog Peter.”

“Ok, fine!” You sarcastically roll your eyes and Bucky laughs.

“What do you think about Charlie?”

You hum in approval. “I do like that one. What about Benji?”

Bucky tilts his head. “I don’t like that one very much. I don’t have any other names so you can tell me your last one.”

“What about Whiskey?” Immediately the puppy turns his head and looks at you.

“Well I guess he just chose his name,” Bucky laughs as Whiskey makes his way to the both of you.

“It’s a compromise. It’s still a Taylor Swift reference but it’s also your favorite drink.” Bucky hums.

“I think that we should introduce Whiskey to his sister, don’t you think Doll?” Bucky gets up and offers a hand for you.

You gladly take his hand and pick up the puppy, giving him a kiss at the top of his head. Even though you reassured Bucky that Whiskey and Alpine would get along just fine, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. It’s only been a couple of hours and you both already love Whiskey to the moon and back so if you had to find a new home for him, it would be devastating.

“Let’s introduce them.” You nod your head at Bucky and he opens the door.

Unexpectedly, Alpine is sitting at the door waiting for all of you. She is a pretty independent cat and only wants attention when she craves it, usually late at night before bed. Bucky bends down to pick her up to move to the living room, a place that would be more neutral for both animals.

Alpine jumps out of Bucky’s arms and waits patiently for you to let Whiskey down. The puppy squirms in your arms, also wanting to be let down. You look at Bucky, who’s sitting on the couch, and he nods at you. You gently put the dog down and sit beside Bucky.

Whiskey immediately starts to sniff Alpine and she does an inspection of her own. The two pets stare at each other for a minute before Whiskey bolts with Alpine chasing after him.

You let out a relieved laugh. “Oh, I’m so glad that they’re getting along.”

Bucky wraps his arm around you and gives you a kiss. “You called it Doll.”

You both hear a crash come from the kitchen and your eyes widen. You hear Whiskey barking and Alpine meows right back, almost as if the two are arguing.

“We better check on them,” You say as you get up.

Bucky gets up and shakes his head. “Acting like actual siblings.”

[pixiexdusts-world]

Incorrect Quote

Bucky: Dom or sub?

Y/n: I guess Domino's, since I don't go to Subway that much. Don't see why you'd put them in the same category though.

[marie-swriting]

Home Again - Bucky Barnes

Marvel Masterlist

Summary : Your husband Bucky gets called to war, leaving you and your son Michael behind but he promises you'll meet again, little did he know "again" meant "seventy-four years".

Warnings : starts in the 40's, angst, character's death, mention of Bucky's trauma, loss of father, mention of war, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3.7k

French version

Song inspiration : We'll Meet Again by Vera Lynn

Your back against Bucky’s torso, you’re both comfortably settled on your couch. You’re holding his left hand against your chest and you’re softly stroking his wedding ring on his finger. Sometimes, Bucky brings both of your hands to his mouth to kiss yours. In his other hand, he’s holding The Hobbit while he’s reading out loud. As it often happens when your child Michael, who is one year old, is napping, you and Bucky make the most of this moment of silence to lay down and read. Even if you change books from time to time, you often re-read Tolkien’s work. Bucky is the one who introduced it to you so it’s kind of become your book. Bucky keeps reading, lulling you delicately with his voice, as usual. A light breeze coming from the open window of your living room comes your way to sweep away the summer heat. Somebody knocking on the door interrupts Bucky in the middle of a sentence. He markes the page then closes the book and you tell him you’re going to check who it is. You leave Bucky’s arm, peck his lips and walk to the front door. When you open it, you find a man with an army uniform. You instantly understand what news he is going to break to you.

“My respects, Mrs.Barnes,” he greets you with a nod, “is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes here ?”

“Yes, he is.” you inform, “Buck, can you please come here, honey ?” you call your husband.

You hear Bucky putting down the book on the couch and walking to you. Once he’s next to you, you step aside to allow him to see the man. As soon as he notices it’s someone from the army, Bucky gives a salute before listening to the information. You watch the interaction, even though you feel like you’re not here mentally. The conversation doesn’t seem to reach your ears, except for one sentence ‘you’re leaving tomorrow.’. These last words keep echoing inside your head as you realise in a few hours, Bucky won't be by yours and your son’s side anymore until an indeterminate day - if he comes back home safely. As soon as you see Bucky salutes again, you quickly say goodbye to the commanding officer whilst Bucky closes the door. Once you’re alone again, there’s a heavy silence. Bucky analyses your face, trying to understand your thoughts coming thick and fast. He’s about to say something to you when Michael’s cries take you out of your trance.

“I’m gonna go check on him. You should get ready, you’re supposed to meet Steve soon.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he calls you with a soft voice, taking your hand, “you know everything will be alright for me, right ?”

“I don’t have any doubt about it.” you smile, stroking his left cheek and kissing his right.

You break the embrace and go upstairs to see your son. You find him crying because he’s lost his teddy bear, you take Michael in your arms before grabbing his bear and giving it back to him as you try to soothe him. Rocking him slowly, you set your gaze on his face and you scrutinise his traits which are so close to Bucky’s and you feel tears forming in your eyes, in spite of yourself. You knew it was only a matter of time before Bucky would be called to go to war, you were just hoping you’ll get more time before his departure. You’re holding your tears back, not wanting Bucky to find your puffy eyes. You have to stay strong for him until the next day, when he’ll be gone. He’s the one going to war, you can’t be the one crying. Yet, you can’t help it. The fear of losing Bucky to the war increased the moment you opened the door.

For Bucky’s last night, you spend it at the Stark Expo with Steve and Michael. You make the best out of this last moment together. Bucky is starry-eyed as he watches the several inventions while you try to memorise Bucky being happy. God only knows how you’re going to have him back at the end of the war. You look at him interacting with your son, the moments warming your heart, especially when Michael giggles because of Bucky’s antics.

However, this moment has quickly become an old memory as soon as, with Bucky and Michael, you’re on the dock, waiting for the moment he’ll officially have to leave you. The beginning of the summer morning makes this day a bit less insufferable. The bright sun seems to want to give you a bit of hope for Bucky’s future. However, the sun can be luminous, it doesn’t erase your anxiety. Even the sight of Bucky holding your son in his arms, enjoying this last instant with him, doesn’t help to reduce your fear. Bucky keeps talking to you, hoping to take your mind off things. Even if you do your best to hide your emotions since the announcement of his departure, Bucky can see the sadness in your eyes. Notwithstanding, if he had to be honest, by doing this, it allows him not to think of the horrors of the war he’ll witness. He tries to look contented in front of you, but deep down, he’s scared of not coming back, leaving you a widow and your son without a father.

When the soldiers are officially called, you take Michael in your arms and Bucky grabs his bag. You don’t look at Bucky in the eyes, worried you’ll break down in front of him. He puts his fingers under your chin to lift your head up.

“Everything will be okay, sweetheart. I’ll be back before you know it.” he assures you with a comforting smile.

“Bucky, we don’t know if…”

You leave your sentence up in the air, not daring to express out loud the possibility of losing Bucky whilst your eyes get teary.

“Hey, we’ll meet again. I don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again because I’ll always come back to you and to him.”, Bucky affirms, putting his right hand on your cheek and his left one on Michael’s. “You’ll see, it’ll be a sunny day like this one and we’ll make up for the lost time. I’ll come back home, no matter how long it might take. I promise. Everything will be alright for me.”

“Still, be careful. I want you back in one piece.” you state with a sad smile.

“You know me, I’m always careful.”, Bucky reminds you, kissing your left hand on your wedding ring. “Take care of yourselves.”

“As always.”

Bucky and you keep looking each other in the eyes until you hear a voice claiming it’s the last call before the departure, interrupting your moment.

“I need to go. I love you both.”

“Lobe you, dada.” Micahel tries to say.

“I love you, too, Mikey.” Bucky answers him, kissing his cheek, “Dada will be home soon. Be good to mommy. I’ll write to you both every day.” he promises.

“You better or I’ll do like Steve and do everything to enlist.” you affirm, making Bucky chuckle.

“This punk has a bad influence on you.”

“He’s your best friend. You have only yourself to blame.” you joke before having a serious expression on your face. “I love you, James.”

You don’t use Bucky’s name often, only during serious situations. When he hears his name coming out of your lips, Bucky knows the real meaning behind your ‘I love you’ is : ‘be careful, I will wait for you, come back home to us, I love you.’

“I love you, too, Y/N.” he replies but he actually means ‘I'll do everything I can to come back to you, I won't leave you and Michael behind, I'll stay as safe as I can, I love you.’

Bucky kisses you one last time while he’s stroking Michael’s back. Once he breaks the kiss, he presses his lips again on your son’s cheek before leaving for good. You watch him go, your tears already flowing freely. You can’t hold them anymore. You keep your gaze on Bucky until he disappears on the ship. You stay on the dock until the ship leaves the port. When Bucky is officially away from you, you lower your eyes to Michael who’s looking at you with curious eyes, not understanding the situation. You stare at your son, the only part of Bucky who’s with you now, until the man you love comes home from war. 

Seventy-four years later, you’re still staring at your son, only his face has become older since Bucky left, just like yours. By looking at Michael, you can have an idea of what Bucky could have looked like if war hadn’t stolen him from you. Bucky’s loss was the worst trial you ever went through. You still remember the scream of pain you made but also the sound of your heart breaking in your chest when you heard the news. Your son was three at that time so you had to handle the sorrow as best as you could to make sure Michael would have a happy and complete life, despite the absence of his father. You ensured Michael never forgot who Bucky was. You told him every story involving Bucky, and also Uncle Steve, in addition to placing every picture you have, like this he’d always remember Bucky’s face. If one asked Michael how you did as a mother, he’d say you did an exceptional job because, even if he has no memories, he feels like he really knows his father, thanks to you.

Once you became old, Michael took care of you, like you did with him your whole life. However, as he got older as well, it became harder and harder for Michael to look after you, but he didn’t want to leave you alone so he made sure you both are in the same retirement home. He even lives in the room next to you. By the time Steve got out of the ice, he made sure you both got the best home.

Currently, you’re in your room, decorated by the several memories you have including a picture of Bucky on your wedding day on your nightstand. Michael is sitting on the easy chair next to your bed while your granddaughter Allison is on your bed. The sunbeam is lighting up the room, warming it up just enough. Allison comes to visit you and Michael almost every day and from time to time, your great-granddaughter Claire does the same. Nevertheless, according to Allison, she doesn’t come visit you enough, to which you always tell her the same thing.

“Claire is twenty. She’s young, she’s right to go out. Besides, she calls us almost everyday. Let the kid live a little.”

“I know but she was supposed to come today.”

“She can always come tomorrow.” Michael assures her, making Allison sigh.

She’s about to add something when somebody knocks on the door. Before she can stand up, Michael goes to the door. He opens it and you hear someone say something, even if your old ears prevent you from understanding it. Michael doesn’t move for a second, as if he was in a state of shock. Not seeing who it is, you grow worried.

“Mikey, who is it ?”

As a simple answer, Michael steps aside with a wide eye gaze, allowing you to find Bucky still young, although he has grown his hair long and a beard, in front of you. You don’t dare to move, too afraid it’s still the same dream you’ve been doing for the past seventy-four years. When you realise your Bucky is really in front of you, you start to fidget. You try to take the cover off you and order Allison to help you get up, yet at your age, it’s almost mission impossible. Upon seeing you trying to act so quickly, Bucky runs to you, not wanting you to leave your bed, scared you’ll hurt yourself. As soon as he’s next to you, you don’t waste any second and throw yourself in his arms.

“You’re here. You’re home.” you murmur, crying.

“I told you I’d come back. On a sunny day, wasn’t it ?”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“You too, you have no idea.”

“How is this even possible ? They told me you were dead ! And how can you still be so young ?” you question, cupping his head.

“You remember Steve’s story ?” he asks and you nod, “It’s more or less the same one.”

“I can’t believe it. Mikey, he’s home again !” you exclaim to your son who has teary eyes.

“I’m so happy to see you again, son.”

Bucky turns to Michael and looks at him with a sad smile. Too overwhelmed, Michael can’t utter a single word. He only takes Bucky in his arms while crying. You see Bucky tightening his grip, enjoying the feeling of his son who changed so much since the last time he saw him. After a few instants, Michael breaks the embrace but keeps his eyes on Bucky.

“Dad,” your son clears his throat and shows Allison, “this is my daughter, Allison.”

“We’re grandparents ?” Bucky enquiries, shocked.

“Great-grandparents even !” you answer with a smile, “You have a great-granddaughter called Claire.”

“I feel like I have a lot to catch up on.”

“We’ll be glad to tell you everything.” Michael reassures him, gently hitting Bucky’s right shoulder.

And that’s what you do. The whole day, the three of you explain to Bucky several family stories and answer all of his questions. Sometimes, you try to ask him some as well yet, he always changes the subject, which you quickly notice. Bucky is sitting next to you on the bed, both of your hands intertwined, even if his gloves prevent you from directly feeling them. His jacket still on his body stops you from seeing his arms as well. You don’t understand why Bucky seems to want to keep some distance. You make a mental note to ask him once you’ll be alone. He’s attentively listening to Michael telling him about Allison’s first Christmas whilst you look at Bucky with more attention. Albeit he looks like the Bucky who left for war, you notice the dark circles under his eyes and the absence of the small sparkle that used to be in his eyes. His face almost hasn’t aged. It’s almost imperceptible, but you’ve stared at Bucky’s old photos far too often so you find those small changes with one look.

When the night comes, Allison goes home after helping Michael to go back to his room. Bucky is still beside you. After begging the nurses for a few minutes, they agreed to let you eat in your room in addition to allowing Bucky with you for the night. 

A peaceful silence is in the air while you’re looking at each other. Bucky scrutinises your face - he still thinks it’s beautiful, he’s happy he got the chance to see your face older, yet he’s sad he couldn’t see it ageing. He kisses your left ring finger on your wedding band, like he used to do, and you smile at his gesture. Bucky notices the ring is still the same ; and even if you had every right to get remarried, he’s glad to see you didn’t do it. As for you, you can’t help but be frustrated to not feel his fingers, he still hasn’t taken his gloves off, nor his jacket.

“Aren’t you hot ? You’ve been keeping these damn jacket and gloves all day.” you exclaim, annoyed.

“Are you trying to undress me ?”, Bucky laughs with a fake shocked face, “Come on, Y/N, a nurse could come here at any given moment !”

“Bucky,” you sigh, “you know what I meant. I haven’t seen you in seventy-four years, I’d like to touch your hands.”

Reluctantly, Bucky takes his right glove off and puts it in his jacket. He looks at his flesh hand before holding it out to you, trying to do a reassuring smile.

“And the other glove ?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“I… I’d rather keep it.”

“I’m old, not sick. You’re not gonna get any germ or something.” you joke, making Bucky smile.

“I know.” he says without adding anything else.

You take his right hand in yours, enjoying its calloused aspect. Bucky’s face turns into sadness whilst he slowly takes his hand out of yours and puts it on your cheek.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”, Bucky whispers, “It wasn’t what I had planned.”

“We’re together again, it’s what matters.” you assure him with a genuine smile.

“Maybe, but I was afraid you’d be…”

Just like you when he had to go to war, he leaves his sentence up in the air, not daring to express the possibility of you being dead.

“Somehow, my body must have known you were still alive and waited for you to come back.”

“Probably.”

Bucky keeps stroking your cheek while you put your left hand on his, deepening the touch.

“Are you going to tell me the truth, now we’re alone ?” you ask him with a soft voice.

Knowing well what you’re talking about, Bucky tenses up, taking his hand away from your cheek whilst he instinctively hides his left hand in his jacket’s pocket.

“About what ?” he pretends to not understand.

“Bucky, I know you, despite all these years. And besides, the way you said you had ‘more or less’ the same story as Steve confirmed to me there's something you’re not telling me. What has happened to you during the war ? How can you still be so young and how could you survive that fall ?”

Realising his half-lie didn’t convince you is not a surprise to him. You knew him by heart before he went to war, of course you can still read him like an open book. At this instant, he even thinks you know him better than he does. This thought pinches his heart. He stays silent, not knowing what to answer when his eyes fall on a book on your nightstand.

“You still have it ?”

Upon hearing Bucky changing the subject, you roll your eyes whilst he grabs the harback, beside his picture. He opens your old copy of The Hobbit - now damaged because of the multiple times you’ve read it, and discovers annotations that weren’t there the last time he saw it. You never annotated the books you used to read together. Yet, after he left, you had started reading Tolkien’s book again and annotated every comment Bucky used to say while reading to have the impression you were still reading together. Bucky’s heart tightens in chest when he thinks of all the times you must have read The Hobbit as you tried to search for some comfort. 

“I never go anywhere without it.” you inform, “You’re not going to tell me the truth, are you ?”

“Maybe one day.”

Bucky knows it’s not fair to you to hide from you what happened to him. You’ll discover the truth eventually, he must be the one telling his story, but he wants to do it some other time. He doesn't want his reunion with you to be spoiled. You’re so happy to have him again, he doesn’t want to break your heart by explaining to you that for seventy years he has been tortured and used as a weapon, along with losing every memory he had with you and Michael until Steve found him again. Bucky finally has a chance to be with you after all these years, he can’t ruin everything with his story. He had to go through terrible things before arriving at this specific moment, he has to make sure it’s a happy memory. Since Wakanda, he has a second chance and he isn’t planning on wasting it. No, you don’t need to know everything he went through or did. You don’t need to know how he can still be fragile mentally. He’s by your side again, it’s all that matters.

“Why don’t you come laying down next to me and read to me The Hobbit like we used to ?” you end up proposing.

“With pleasure, sweetheart.”

Bucky helps you to find a good position on your bed before joining you. Once you are both comfortably settled down, you try to take his left hand, but quickly, he takes the book with this hand and gives you his right one. You frown because of the way he acted. You were always holding his left hand when you were reading. You try to not to think too much about it and stroke his right hand whilst Bucky starts reading the first words out loud. As soon as you hear Bucky’s voice, you feel like you went back to a time where everything was alright, where you were young and far away from the horrors of the war in your little home in Brooklyn with Michael peacefully napping upstairs. You take a deep breath, Bucky’s smell filling your nostrils like before. For the first time in seventy-four years, you feel at home again. A peaceful smile takes place on your face.

Tired by the emotions of the day, you allow yourself to fall asleep softly while you keep listening to Bucky’s voice, your strokes on his hand becoming less and less regular. Thanks to his supersoldier hearing, Bucky feels your breath slowing down, telling him you’re falling into Morphe’s arms. Upon turning the page, Bucky kisses the crown of your head. He keeps reading, listening attentively to your heartbeat. He finishes reading the second chapter when he hears your pulse going weaker and weaker until it can’t be perceptible anymore. Confronted by the silence, Bucky stops his reading. He needs a few seconds before realising you just left him. Instantly, his eyes get teary. He puts the book down on your nightstand and sets his gaze on you. Delicately, his hands find their way to your face where he can see the ghost of a smile. Bucky starts crying as soon as he sees it, even if you passed away happy and serene by his side, he had promised to meet you again but also to make up for the lost time and one day is not enough.

Marvel Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

[stevenssacrab]

Good Neighbor Pt. 2

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: After a successful dinner date with Bucky, you invite him to cook dinner with you

Rating: 18+ (minors, do not interact)

Warnings: Lots of flirting, teasing, mentions of knives, sexual tension, mentions of alcohol, light kissing

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: Part 2! Glad everyone liked part 1, hope part 2 is up to par!

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Part 1

“Hey, you aren’t allergic to mushrooms, are you?” you sent out the message; after the dinner, you exchanged numbers and have been texting each other nonstop all week; even your coworkers have noticed you seem happier. You’ve been looking for recipes and doing it for hours, trying to pick the perfect one. So what if this dinner was an excuse to spend time with Bucky? You had been thinking of ways to get some one-on-one time with him, and this was perfect; you could hide it under the guise of trying to teach him to cook.

“No, I’m not; anything is good,” he responded almost immediately; you smiled at his quick response; it made you feel like you were always on his mind. Talking with Buck never felt like a chore; the conversation flowed naturally. It was as if you had been friends for a long time. It was refreshing not needing to try so hard. Bucky always made you feel special, paying extra attention whenever you spoke, hanging off every word, afraid he’d miss a critical detail, and that’s precisely what had you head over heels for him; the feeling was new, but you knew you wanted more.

“Okay, thanks, Buck,” you replied; you remember when you called him Buck for the first time, you were wishing each other goodnight, and it just slipped out; you didn’t even think about it; it just happened; everything with Bucky felt natural.

It was 10 minutes before Bucky had to head to your place, and he was pacing. He was so nervous; he promised himself he wouldn't get so worked up, but he didn’t want to blow this opportunity. He had feelings for you, and he didn’t wanna blow it; you’re the first girl that treated him like a person and not a superhero; everything felt ordinary and simple, and that’s all he wanted.

“Okay, Buck, you got this,” he said out loud, patting himself on the chest.

“It’s go time, Buck.” With that, he opens the door, takes the 2 steps across the hall, and knocks on your door.

“Hey, Bucky! Right on time,” you say giddily, stretching your arms out and wrapping Bucky in a tight hug; you don’t miss the chance to take in his scent, a mix of vanilla and teakwood, a smell you could get used to.

“I brought some wine. Hope white is okay?” he said, holding up the bottle.

“It’s perfect, Buck,” you say, smiling sweetly at him.

“Come in, please,” you say, opening the door wider for him.

“The kitchen is right this way,” you say, lightly grabbing his hand and leading him into the kitchen.

“So, I got you something,” you say, playfully hiding the gift behind your back. Bucky's eyes widened; he hadn’t even thought of getting you a gift.

“I didn’t get,” he says, starting to panic.

“Oh, Buck, it's fine; just open it.” You hand him a green box wrapped with a red bow. Feeling anxious, He grabs it slowly; he opens the box and pulls out an apron with a picture of a muscular man. He starts laughing loudly, shoulders bouncing with glee; he calms down a little bit, looks at the apron again, and resumes laughing loudly with tears in his eyes. You laugh with him; you didn’t think he would like it so much.

“I’m happy you like it,” you laugh, helping him put it on, slowly sliding your hands down and resting them on his firm chest. He clears his throat, and you snap out of it, quickly pulling your hands back.

“Uh, sorry, I-” you stutter out, blush creeping up your face.

“It’s okay,” he says; he gently grabs your hand and places it back onto his chest, keeping his hand over yours. You’re dumbfounded; all thoughts leave your brain; what snaps you out is Bucky softly squeezing your hand, and you rip your hand away from him.

"Can you tie it for me?" he asks, and he turns, showing you his board back; you slowly grab the straps and tie them, letting your hands roam up his back to his shoulder blades and down his arms; you clear your throat.

"All done," you say innocently, smiling up at Bucky.

“Can you help me with mine?” you ask shyly, turning around. Bucky grabs the apron and slides it over your head, and you move your hair to the side. Bucky sucks in a breath seeing your exposed neck; he traces his hand down your back and leans forward to grab the strings; you get goosebumps feeling his breath fan across your neck; he ties the apron around you, he lets his hands roam your back, caressing your neck gently. He slowly pulls his hands away, already missing your body against his hands.

“Okay, let’s um start,” you say, hastily pulling ingredients from the fridge, Bucky smiling to himself at how scatterbrained he made you. “Oh, this is gonna be fun,” he thinks, moving to help you pull out ingredients.

“Alright, I think we have everything,” you say, reviewing the list on your phone.

“I picked an easy recipe for your first time; now pay attention; we’re doing this for you,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Thanks for being gentle for my first time,” he says coyly, winking at you.

“Are you gonna be like this all night?” you ask, raising your eyebrow.

“Yes,” he gives a smug look.

“Game on, pretty boy,” you say, challenging him to his little game.

“Let’s start with the steak,” you say, motioning for him to hand it over to you; he hops up and hands you the steak, watching you open the package and slowly place it into the pan.

“How do you like your steak done, hon?” you ask, all your attention on the pan; you miss Bucky's face drop at the pet name, blush making its way across his cheeks; he clears his throat.

“Um, medium, well, please,” he blurts out.

“Hand me 2 tablespoons of butter, please,” you say, pointing at the butter on the counter.

“Yes, chef,” Bucky says jokingly; you giggle at the joke; Bucky is mentally high-fiving himself.

“Slight problem, I don’t know what tablespoons are,” he admits

“What? Really?” you ask, looking at him in disbelief.

“I’ve never cooked a day in my life, Y/N; that’s why we’re doing this,” he says nonchalantly.

“Okay, tbsp means tablespoons right here.” You grab his hand holding the knife and cut at the 2 tablespoon mark, holding onto his hand a second too long; you quickly let go of his hand.”

“Alright, hand me that plate; we’ll take the steaks out and then add mushrooms next,” you say confidently; you’re in your element, an area you absolutely thrive in.

“Here are your mushrooms,” he says, opening the package and adding them to the pan.

“Okay, let's add the mushrooms in and stir until tender; at that point, we’ll add the broth and heavy whipping cream,” you say slowly, making sure Bucky absorbs everything you say.

“Okay, when can I get you to hold my hand again?” he asks.

“After dinner,” you say playfully, bumping him lightly with your elbow.

“Oh, I’m gonna hold you to that,” he flirts back, bumping you back playfully.

“Next, let’s bring this to boil until the sauce thickens; it shouldn't take too long, 1-2 minutes tops,” you say, slowly stirring; this time, Bucky puts his hand over yours, helping you mix the sauce; you smile bashfully and lean into him.

“Okay, last thing, we’re almost there!” you say excitedly. “We’ll add the steaks back into the pan, let them heat up and get coated in the sauce, add chives for garnish, and boom, we’re done,” you say clearly.

“Aw, but I loved this educational cooking show,” he teases playfully.

“Good thing we’re doing this again,” you say happily, happy at the thought of doing this again.

You carefully add the steak and mushrooms next to the mashed potatoes you prepared the night before.

“Grab the wine glasses for will ya Buck, they're in the cabinet above the sink, on the top shelf,” you say, wholly focused on plating the food.

“I’ll set these on the table,” Bucky says, walking toward the table with the wine glasses.

“Okay, thank you,” you shout from the kitchen, satisfied with how the food looks. You walk the food to the table where Bucky has poured the wine and waits patiently.

“I’m so excited to try this,” you beam, joy evident in your face.

“To our first time cooking together.” Bucky holds his glass up, and you smile and clink your glasses together.

“Let’s dig in,” you say, seating done, and take your first bite.

“Ugh”

“Ugh,” you and Bucky shout simultaneously, both laughing.

“This is so good, oh my god,” you say proudly.

“We did a good job,” Bucky chirps, smiling from ear to ear at you.

“We really did,” you giggled, “Next, I wanna try pot roast!” you say, already thinking of the next time.

You and Bucky lean back in your chairs, absolutely stuffed.

“Ugh, 10 out of 10.” Bucky looked pleased. You get up and attempt to grab Bucky’s dish, but he pulls it away and quickly grabs yours.

“Absolutely not! I’ll do the dishes,” he bellows.

“No, Bucky! You’re the guest. You can’t do that,” you exclaim, trying to grab the dishes, but Bucky uses his height to render your attempts useless.

“No way, you did most of the cooking. The least I could do is the dishes,” he says matter-of-factly, walking back into the kitchen and running the water.

“Okay, let’s both do them, yeah?” you ask, hopefully.

“Okay, but only because you’re so cute,” he says, squinting at you playfully.

Bucky washes the dishes, and you rinse and dry them off like a well-oiled machine; you finish in no time.

“Okay, I think I should head home,” Bucky says sadly; he doesn’t want it to end.

“Aww, okay, Buck, let me walk you out,” you say, grabbing his hand and leading him to the door.

“I had so much fun, Buck. We have to do this more often,” you say eagerly, leaning against the door frame, sweetly running your thumb over Bucky's knuckles.

“See you later, Bucky.” You give his hand a light squeeze; Bucky grips your hand tightly and pulls you in; your lips meet; he tenderly kisses you and caresses your chin until you both pull away for air.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he kisses your cheek sweetly; he strides into his apartment and closes the door softly; you’re left staring at his door with a broad smile.