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shewhohangsoutincemeteries · 2 years

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shards of glass

Twenty-Nine of Thirty-One

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Prompt: "is that vodka? at seven in the morning?”

Summary: bucky is completing his amends list for his time as the winter soldier. you’re a former black widow agent, freed from the red room’s control by yelena belova. you were once assigned to work with him in the past, and now, he’s tracked you down in order to find closure.

Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, violence, mentions of brainwashing (winter soldier and red room programming), choking, blood, breathplay,

Word Count: 3,199

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A/N: inspired by this scene from The 355.

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“Is that vodka?”

You closed your eyes and sighed, the glass halfway to your lips.

“At seven in the morning?”

Setting the bottle back on the bar, you took a sip of your drink before turning around and heading for the couch in the middle of your apartment. It wasn’t until you had made yourself comfortable, tucking your legs under yourself and reclining back against the back of the sofa that you turned your attention to the man standing at the top of the stairs on the far side of the room.

“I don’t remember you being so judgmental, Soldier.” you said coolly, taking another sip of your drink. The ice clinked quietly against the glass, condensation dripping onto your fingers. “I have ten men outside.”

“You had ten men outside.” he corrected you, metal hand tucked into his jacket pocket as he strode almost casually towards you. The same part of you that had scanned him for weapons as you’d sat down noted this, and you wondered idly if that was supposed to be a way of reassuring you, the way holding up a gun and removing the clip would. It didn’t work. “Just you and me now.”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “I don’t know why I bother. Honestly, the prices these people charge, you’d think they’d actually be useful.”

“Since when do you travel with an entourage?” he asked, stopping on the other side of the coffee table in front of you. His stance was relaxed, but you’d spent enough time with him – or some version of him – to know just how fast his reaction time was. “I never took you for the kind to enjoy other people’s company.”

“Since I caught wind that you were taking this little victory tour of yours,” you replied, almost snide. You finished your drink, leaning forward to place the empty glass on the table. “And I didn’t exactly hire them for their conversation skills.”

“Why did you hire them at all? You’ve never needed the backup.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “You’re not the only one who made a career change, Soldier.”

“It’s Bucky.”

“Of course it is.” you said drily, and a ghost of a smile crossed his features. Despite your almost cavalier attitude, your gaze didn’t waver, monitoring every shift in his stance and every flicker in his expression. “How did you find me?”

“Wasn’t easy,” he answered evasively. “Wasn’t expecting to find you here, though.’

“That was the point.” you waved a hand towards the window. “Is it safe to assume your feathered friend is lurking somewhere outside?”

“I came alone.”

You arched a brow. “That was either an incredibly self-assured decision or—”

“What happened…” Bucky cleared his throat, ducking his head for a moment. “My past has nothing to do with him.”

“It has nothing to do with me, either.” you said pettily. “In case you haven’t heard, I wasn’t exactly in control of my choices when we met.”

“I did. I’m—”

Bucky looked down with a sigh, and you immediately reached for the nine-millimeter handgun tucked in the couch cushions behind you. He moved just as quickly, bending down and taking hold of the edge of the coffee table between the two of you. He flung it to the side to crack and break against the wall, your shot glancing off of his prosthetic shoulder.

Bucky closed the distance between you, his metal hand taking hold of your wrist and forcing your aim towards the ceiling, his other hand closing around your throat. His knee was between your legs, bent to rest on the couch cushion, and you smirked up at him, loosening your grip on the weapon obediently. It fell harmlessly onto the cushion beside you.

“Apologies are boring, Soldier,” you told him with limited breath, meeting his eye unwaveringly. His face was only inches above yours, his jaw tightening reflexively and his gaze hard. A thrill ran through you despite yourself, and you ignored it, holding up your free hand in mock-surrender. “If you’re going to arrest me, I suggest you save your breath.”

“You’ve gotten slow, Y/N.”

Your eyebrow flicked upward for a second, but you didn’t comment on the fact that he’d learnt your name since leaving HYDRA. You had to guess he’d heard it from Romanoff before her death, or from Belova now that she was apparently following in her “sister’s” footsteps. After all, tracking down one of the many nameless Black Widow agents had to be made ever so slightly easier if you knew their names.

When you didn’t respond, he spoke again, his fingers flexing around your throat.

“…You were testing me.”

“I was curious.” you replied. “Turns out the programming isn’t so easy to forget, is it, Soldier?”

Bucky swallowed his anger, but he didn’t release you. Instead, he took an almost steadying breath.

“I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I am James ‘Bucky’ Barnes…” his words sounded rehearsed; his breath warm on your face. You shifted beneath him, your lips parting. Bucky’s gaze dropped for a moment, and his next breath shook slightly as he met your gaze again. “…And you’re part of my efforts to make amends.”

“Lucky me.”

Your free hand shot up, but instead of breaking his grip on your throat you grasped the lapel of his jacket and pulled him down towards you and met his lips fiercely with your own.

You felt him stiffen in surprise before he responded, pinning your wrist back against the couch as he returned the kiss. The almost surprising softness of his lips was betrayed by the sudden hunger in the embrace, his teeth grazing your lip and his tongue sliding against yours.

Between his mouth on yours and his hand still wrapped around your throat, you could feel your head quickly growing light, and you bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He hissed at the spark of pain as he pulled back, and you smirked at his reaction, almost surprised by the desire twisting through your chest.

His gaze was dark as he met your eye, pupils blown wide with desire even as that ever-present wariness marred his features. Bucky’s hand relaxed around your throat slowly as his chest rose with a steadying breath, his eyes burning into yours as he tried to decipher your expression.

“Fuck it.”

His lips met yours again roughly, his hand releasing your wrist and grabbing the gun from where it had fallen to the couch. You heard him remove the clip without breaking away from you, tossing them both to the other side of the room before his hands were grasping at your arms. You took his face in your hands, fingers clutching at the hard line of his jaw and the side of his throat. Pushing him off of you, you straddled his thighs as his back met the cushions, his hands taking an achingly firm hold of your waist.

You grinned against his lips as you felt him slide the concealed blade out of your beltline and heard the dull thud of it being buried in the wood of the coffee table against the wall as he flung it aside as well. You could taste the metallic tang of his blood on his tongue as you kissed him, your fingers grasping tightly at the hair at the back of his head.

You shoved his jacket down his arms and tossed it over the back of the couch as he shrugged it off, fingers bunching in his shirt. Your nails grazed his chest through the fabric, and you rolled your hips over his as you felt his hands retake your waist. He groaned against your mouth, and you felt a shiver run up your spine as his hands slipped underneath your shirt. The heat of one hand and the iciness of the other were an agonizing contrast against the small of your back, and he broke away from your lips to take an almost desperate breath. His forehead fell against your cheek, his lips brushing over the edge of your jaw and down the side of your throat. His teeth grazed your pulse point and you groaned, eyes rolling back.

You jerked his head back with the hand still in his hair, smirking as he grunted in response. There was a hint of a grin playing on the edge of his expression as he met your eye, and you held his gaze, face hovering over his as you ground down against him again.

A soft, drawn-out moan escaped him as you did, his jaw tightening and his eyes dark. You could feel him hardening beneath you, his hands sliding down to clutch possessively at your thighs.

“This isn’t exactly how I saw this going…”

You rolled your eyes, reaching between you to palm him through his pants, your smirk widening as his breath caught. “I think I liked it better when you didn’t talk so much, tovarisch.”

Cruel, maybe, but you weren’t friends, and you’d learned decades ago that there was no point in taking the feelings of others into account when you wanted something. It was easier to just take it; and the measure of his breath, the way he grasped at the flesh of your thighs… he wasn’t going to object.

Besides, what was to offend? You barely had a past between the two of you… not one where either of you had had a choice in the matter. He’d been so deep under his programming; you were surprised he remembered you at all.

Bucky groaned as you stroked him through his pants, and he kissed you again, muffling the sound against your lips. His hands fumbled blindly for a moment with the front of your shirt before their grip tightened, buttons and thread popping as he tore it open.

His hands slid over your waist and down around your thighs, and you grasped at his shoulders as he stood. Wrapping your legs around him as he carried you across the room, your skirt bunching up around your hips. You broke away from his lips as your back met the wall hard enough to make your breath catch.

Bucky’s grip on your thighs was tight enough to bruise, and his lips caught your jaw, his teeth grazing over the side of your throat. You unbuckled his belt, whining as you reached into his pants and wrapped your fingers around his erection, his teeth digging into the sensitive skin of your collarbone.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, jerking his head back and kissing him hard, thrilling at the way his breath caught against your lips as you lowered yourself onto his cock. He broke away to meet your eye, an almost bewildered look in his eye, his gaze burning into yours as you began to rise and fall on his cock.

Taken aback by the heat in his eyes, you forced his face back to your throat, arching your neck to the side as he obediently ran his tongue along the side of it. His left hand came up to clutch at your breast through your bra, fingers digging into the flesh of it as he pulled the cup down and pinched your nipple. You moaned as he thrust up into you, hands bunching in his shirt. He broke away long enough to pull it off, and he hissed as you immediately took hold of his biceps, your nails scoring along his arms.

“Fuck…”

“Harder,” you urged, cursing as he sunk his teeth into the swell of your breast before sliding his tongue over the mark he left behind. You reached back blindly, clutching at the wall for some kind of leverage as he fucked himself into you. Reaching up, your fingers curled around the cold metal of the lighting sconce above, and you took hold of it, lifting yourself up and lowering yourself again just as he thrust back into you.

Bucky moaned aloud against your skin, his hand leaving your breast to instead wrap around your throat. The cold metal tightened enough to make your eyes roll back, and you felt his teeth graze the edge of your jaw before his lips were on yours again and his tongue was in your mouth.

The sconce groaned under your grip, the light flickering as the metal bent. You could feel an ache from the way he filled you, your other arm around his neck. It wasn’t until you could feel your lungs begin to burn that Bucky allowed you to breathe, and even then, he barely gave you a moment to take a single, gasping breath before his hand tightened again, his forehead pressed against yours.

You could feel the heat of his breath on your face, feel his other hand clutch at your ass. Your hand curled tightly around his wrist, the vibranium cold and unyielding under your palm as you rode him as best you could against the wall. The sound of flesh meeting flesh was joined by his breathless groan, the broken, strangled moan that escaped you as he angled his hips and slid deeper into you.

“F-uc—” you barely managed to grind out, eyes squeezed shut as you felt him suck a mark into the skin just below the corner of your jaw. You could feel his answering grin, his lips finding yours again hungrily as his hand left your throat to slip between your legs.

You moaned into his mouth as his hand found your clit, a shower of drywall raining down on the two of you as your grip tightened and you ripped the sconce from the wall. Sparks fired above you as you threw the twisted metal aside with a clang, and Bucky stumbled back instinctively, his hands retaking your waist.

His knees hit the couch and you pushed your weight forward, the two of you cursing as he fell back onto the couch with you in his lap. Unwrapping your legs from around him, you pushed yourself up onto your knees, pinning his shoulders back against the couch with your hands as you lowered yourself onto him again.

Bucky cursed again, his jaw tight as you rode him, his hand moving between your legs again to roll his fingers against your clit as his left hand took hold of your ass. He clutched at the flesh of it painfully, encouraging you to grind your hips over his as you bounced on his cock, his other hand circling fingers over your clit.

“Shit…” you let your head fall back, eyes closing as you felt yourself tighten around him, and you came with a broken moan as you felt his teeth graze your nipple. You grasped at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as his tongue slid against your breast, and he grunted against your flesh as they drew blood.

He grabbed hold of you again, turning, laying you out on the sofa and thrusting into you in one smooth motion. You moaned as he did, letting him guide your leg up to wrap around his waist again and spread yourself wider to him. You could feel your thighs tremble, slick with your own excitement, and you clutched at the sofa cushions as you arched up underneath him, so hard that you heard the fabric tear.

“Y/N…”

He muttered your name far too intimately, the animal need in his voice betrayed by something softer; that almost-familiarity he’d used before. You felt his fingers smooth over the side of your neck and up to your cheek, urging you to meet his eye again.

Knocking his hand away with your own, you squeezed his hips with your knees and rolled the two of you off the couch. Bucky’s breath left him in a huff, and an almost exasperated laugh caught in his throat as you fucked yourself onto him again. His hands took hold of your hips, and he moaned as you rolled your hips over his. Your head fell back, hair falling over your shoulder and your hands sliding up over your ribs to your chest.

“Fuck…” his voice came as a rough, husky growl through gritted teeth as his hands moved down to clutch at your thighs. One hand dipped lower, his thumb circling your clit furiously. You echoed the sentiment with a moan, body arching as you tightened around him. Your shirt was hanging off your shoulders, your skirt bunched up around your hips. The carpet burned your knees, your nails digging into his chest as you leaned over him, your breath catching brokenly as he thrust up into you. “Fuck, I’m—”

He pressed down on your clit and thrust hard up into you, and the two of you came together, a hoarse moan escaping you as your eyes rolled back. Bucky arched up towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist to spread his hands over the small of your back, catching on your shirt for a moment. His forehead bumped against your sternum, and you felt his breath tickle your breast for a moment, his lips brushing over your skin absently.

You sighed as you caught your breath, brushing your hair out of your face as you straightened. Shrugging your shirt back onto your shoulders, you straightened it or a moment before realizing it was pointless without the buttons. Tugging the cup of your bra back into place, you pushed Bucky back onto the carpet and stood carefully, rearranging your skirt back down over your thighs.

He rubbed his hand over his chest as he pushed himself up onto his elbow, watching you impassively. “What’re you—”

“Well…” You pushed your hair back over your shoulder, running your hand through it to remove the tangle. Collecting your coat from wear you’d left it thrown over the railings by the stairs, and pulled it on. “I don’t think I’ll be getting my security deposit back on the apartment, tovarisch. Make sure to let the doorman know to call the landlord on the way out.”

Bucky sat up, tucking himself back into his jeans and buckling his belt. “Are you—”

“I told you, Soldier. I’m not going to be arrested by the likes of you.” you told him coolly, buttoning your coat up over your ruined shirt. “I’m not interested in soothing your wounded soul by spending the next few decades of my life locked away in an American prison.”

A crease formed in his brows. “I wasn’t going to—”

“Do your job?” you finished pointedly. “I heard about your deal with the American government.”

“You don’t have to spend your life running from your past,” he said softly. “You could cut a deal.”

You breathed a derisive laugh. “Like you? Like Romanoff?”

“You could do it.”

“And live on another organization’s leash?” you pulled the blade out of the coffee table, tucking it back into your belt line. “I’ll pass.”

“Y/N…”

“This was fun, Soldier,” you said blithely, moving to the window as he finally stood. You sat on the ledge, glancing back at him with a small, playful smirk before swinging your legs over onto the fire escape. “And I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

tags: @dragon-chica @glossyloner @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @lovely-dreamer19 @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @absolutly-me @sara--ravenclaw @startrekkingaroundasgard

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misshoneybee · 2 years

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⟣ 𝑌𝑂𝑈'𝑅𝐸 𝑀𝑌 ��𝐶𝐻𝐼𝐿𝐿𝐸𝑆 𝐻𝐸𝐸𝐿 ⟢

— 𝑋𝑋𝐼. 𝐼𝑁 𝐿𝑂𝑆𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐺𝑅𝐼𝑃 𝑂𝑁 𝑆𝐼𝑁𝐾𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑆𝐻𝐼𝑃𝑆, 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝑆𝐻𝑂𝑊𝐸𝐷 𝑈𝑃 𝐽𝑈𝑆𝑇 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐼𝑀𝐸

Masterpost — OFC Biography — Playlists — Chapter XX — Chapter XXII

❧ Pairings | Post-Endgame!Bucky Barnes x Original Female Character, Previous Steve Rogers x Original Female Character

❧ Warnings | Mature content, explicit language, explicit sexual content (vaginal fingering, oral sex (f-rec), dirty talk, p in v sex, porn with feelings)

❧ Wordcount | ~8.8k

❧ Disclaimer | Dividers are by firefly-graphics. If you are a minor, or do not have your age in your bio, and I catch you interacting with this, you will be blocked. If you believe you were blocked unfairly, send me an ask with your url.

When you're young, you just run, But you come back to what you need ( This Love | 1989 )

February 21, 2025

With more force than he meant to use, Bucky cursed under his breath and locked the door behind him. He hadn’t seen Maggie since his return to the city and he was entirely certain that it was purposeful—she’d been avoiding him. He’d heard her scrambling to enter her apartment as quickly as possible, on more than one occasion, anytime he began to leave his whilst she was in the hallway.

Leaving Sam’s, he somehow felt even more confused than he did when he’d arrived. Perhaps his plan had been flawed; using their rules, he’d gotten burned. Maybe deep down a part of him knew how she felt, that she liked him, and maybe that was what had really scared him. Of course, he never wanted to see her name printed in the tabloids, but it had been something more.

No one had ever liked him for him. Steve had become his friend when he’d become the younger man’s protector, Sam and he had become friends due to circumstance, but Maggie? She didn’t have to give him a second chance after their first real meeting, but she had, and his world hadn’t been the same since.

She didn’t like him because he had anything to offer, or as reciprocation for something that he’d done—for the first time that he could remember, she liked him for who he was. She didn’t care about his past and all that he’d done before they knew one another, she didn’t care that he was a little rough around the edges or that he could get grumpy; she only cared for him, but what had he given her in return?

Heartbreak.

Through thick walls, he’d only heard one piece of her muffled conversation with Sam in Louisiana, and he wished that he’d heard her answer. Did she feel bad that she wanted to move on or because she wanted to move on with him? Had she seen a future with him too?

For so many years, he never let himself look that far ahead. What was the point when he didn’t know what would become of him? A soldier, an assassin, a fugitive. He allowed himself to plan for days, not months, and certainly not years, but with Maggie? He wanted decades, millennia, eons—if he was with her, he’d be content to live out their years together and see the death of the sun.

As long as he had her, nothing else mattered.

And maybe he had had her for a moment, but then he’d allowed their kindling flame to burn out. He’d never admit it, but Sam was right—he’d been fucking stupid and now she was gone. Maybe not completely, but she was out in the hall, kissing some yuppie while he was only a few feet away behind a closed door. It should’ve been him that she was kissing.

Ripped away from his thoughts, there were three solid knocks on the front door. Staring at the wood, he wished he could see through to the other side, but it was unnecessary; there was no question who his unexpected guest was. What did she want? Was it about his staring? Or perhaps she wanted to complain that he’d scared her date away—the possessive part of Bucky liked the sound of that.

He didn’t know the guy but Bucky knew she deserved better than him too.

Working his jaw, he finally mustered up the courage to unlock the door, opening it only wide enough for her to see his entire frame. She looked beautiful, like if February had been given a face; a cream sweater, a woolen red, plaid skirt that looked so soft, he yearned to touch. The translucent claret paint that always graced her plush lips was present and…unsmeared.

So, she hadn’t kissed that Wall Street asshole. That was a win in his book.

Maggie allowed her eyes to drift over him as he waited for her to speak, and the sight infuriated her; his expression was so carefully blank, and she wanted to scream. Every emotion felt as if it had been dialed up to twenty—she was happy he was home safely because she thought that maybe he’d been away on some secret mission, furious because he’d left without a word for the second time since she knew him, terrified that maybe he’d disappeared forever to cut ties with her, and thoroughly, deeply in love with him.

All of that swirled in her mind, yet the only thing she was able to blurt out was a somewhat accusatory observation, “You left.”

He looked tired—the shadow of the dark circles under his eyes hedged the border from indigo to blue and his face looked gaunt. She just wanted to take it in her hands and see if he was okay.

“I had work stuff.” His words were unnecessarily clipped.

Crossing her arms, she was cognizant to not let the relief that swept over her show. So, it wasn’t exactly a mission, but at least he hadn’t been with his girlfriend. The bile in her throat receded. She knew she didn’t have a right to be upset; he wasn’t hers anymore—maybe he had never been to begin with. Never knowing how to leave well enough alone, she pushed with the barest hint of hurt, “And you couldn’t have told me?”

Clenching his fist at his side, he took a deep breath; he’d abandoned her in more ways than one. Was there a trophy for ‘Asshole of the Year?’ Because, if there was, he was almost certain that he’d be in the running for first place.

Curtly, he pointed out, “Well, we weren’t really talking.”

‘Don’t say it. Leave it alone. It’s not your business anymore.’

Ignoring the pointed voice in his head, he continued with a barely masked look of disdain that somehow bordered on ambivalence, “Besides, looks like you were out on a date, anyway.”

As he moved to shut the door, she promptly shoved her pump-clad foot in its path to block it as she clarified incredulously, “Nick?”

Even if she had been out, what did it matter? He had a girlfriend; Maggie wasn’t his problem anymore. So, what if she wanted to date? He’d made it very clear that he wanted that—just not with her. Even so, it’s like she felt the need to overexplain herself as she added, “He’s my ex—we were just catching up. We hadn’t seen each other in over a decade.”

With an annoyed huff, she continued to chastise him, “And we are way past that, James.”

He frowned; she’d used his full name, and they definitely weren’t having sex, which meant she was probably pissed. Rightfully so.

“That whole silent treatment thing doesn’t work for us.” She gestured between their bodies at the abstract concept; was there even a ‘them’ anymore?

“Maggie—”

Despite his attempt to cut in, though he didn’t even know what he wanted to say, she ignored him and continued, “You can’t just leave like that!” Cursing the way that her hands shook and how she cried when she got upset, Maggie swiped away some of the hot tears on her cheeks as she pushed past him into his slightly barren apartment, “Look, I know that whatever the fuck this was, meant more to me than it did to you but—”

His brow furrowed, “What?”

Bulldozing on, Maggie rounded on him and jabbed a finger into the firm muscle of his chest as he closed the door behind her, “—it’s not fair for you to just up and disappear and leave me here with no clue as to where you were, or if you were okay, again!”

That was a fair reprimand. Giving her an extra beat, waiting to see if she had anything left to add, Bucky’s voice was low as he responded to the single comment that had bothered him most during her verbal flagellation, “You’re wrong.”

“Excuse me?” She raised an eyebrow. It made her furious, how his expression was so calm, like he had the whole world figured out.

Repeating himself, he shrugged, “You’re wrong.”

Clenching her fists, Maggie ignored the stinging as her painted nails dug painfully into her slightly sweaty palms. ‘Say it, just say it.’ She had nothing left to lose—well, nothing except him—but if she didn’t tell him, then he was as good as lost to her anyway.

“Look, I like you, Bucky. And, even if you don’t want me the same way, you’re still one of my best friends.” Swallowing her pride, and the lump in her throat, she held his glacial eyes that seemed to be thawing, “You’re still one of the only people that I have left in this stupid fucking world, and I can’t lose you too.” Willing the tears away, she started carefully, averting her eyes, “I know you’re seeing someone else—”

There it was.

Flinching, he accepted the blow. He couldn’t do it anymore—he couldn’t let her believe that there was someone else when there was only her. He regretted ever telling her that in the first place. Maybe the road to hell really had been paved with good, but misguided, intentions. Cutting her off, he bit the bullet and finally admitted the truth, “I’m not.”

“You…” Faltering, she shifted her weight from one leg to the other as her brain struggled to compute the simple two-word sentence. Crossing her arms uncomfortably, she huffed and quietly reaffirmed, “You’re not?”

Shaking his head, his voice was quiet as he clarified, “I never was.”

Brows drawn together, making a tiny wrinkle between them, she could only stare. Not only was he not seeing anyone else, he never had been in the first place. That didn’t make sense. Because, if he was telling the truth now, that meant that he’d lied before—and why would he have lied to her?

Feeling her face flush even more, Maggie felt slightly embarrassed, but she couldn’t put her finger on the reason why. Maybe it was the relief that he hadn’t been with anyone else, or because she’d been jealous of a figment of her imagination, but whatever it was made her chest constrict as she tried to fit the puzzle pieces together unsuccessfully.

“But why—”

Raising his voice just slightly, like he was trying to silence her, or end the conversation all together, Bucky spoke over the tail end of her question defeatedly, “You deserve someone better than me, Maggie.”

December 18, 2024

Support group sessions at the Veterans Affairs office were his least favorite part of the week. It wasn’t like anyone could share his experience, so why did he even bother attending? All of the other Winter Soldiers were dead—Zemo had made certain of that with Siberia and again, with the explosion after the attempted GRE vote—so, it wasn’t like there was a slew of people running around with the super soldier serum coursing through their veins.

The short, older man who ran the group had finally dismissed them for the afternoon. Using one of the wooden stirrer sticks, he waited for the packet of sugar to dissolve into the darkness of his lukewarm coffee; the thin paper cup had done a poor job at insulating the liquid. Before he saw them, he heard a person approaching from behind. Suddenly, a tall, slender woman with straw blonde hair appeared by his side.

Following a similar routine to him, she poured the bitter, burnt coffee from the carafe into a cup. Sitting it down on the table, she added the barest splash of cream, hardly changing the color at all and brought it to her lips. Though she was bundled in a heavy, puffer coat and plaid scarf now, he easily recognized her from earlier. She’d been sitting nine spots to his left in the circle.

Turning to face him, she gave him a long look with black cat-lined, hazel-brown eyes before asking with a quiet, alto voice, “Barnes, right?”

“Bucky.” He corrected and offered her a hand, the gloved vibranium one carefully wrapped around his coffee cup. He’d introduced himself at the beginning of each session, the same way, every time since he’d begun attending.

'Barnes. Army. I was a P.O.W. for a few years,’ That was definitely an understatement, ‘Now I’m just trying to get back to normal.’

It was innocuous enough that it didn’t garner questions or any unwanted attention; he was just biding his time in the group until he could cease his attendance.

“Elizabeth Van Patten.” Her grasp was soft, like a barely-there touch as she shook his hand. There was a certain confidence that she easily emanated as she stood beside him, her posture perfect and her arched brows giving a constant look of skepticism while her lips were twisted into a little smirking smile like she knew something that no one else did. “I know this might be a little forward, but I’ve seen you around here a lot, you’re cute, and I was wondering if maybe you’d like to get some actual good coffee sometime.”

She held up the coffee cup with an expression of disgust; the way her nose wrinkled reminded him of Maggie though two women couldn’t have been more different.

“Oh, uh,” Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, he awkwardly declined her offer, “Thanks but I’m…seeing someone.”

That’s what they were doing, wasn’t it? Their rule had been that they’d stop their arrangement if they found someone else that they wanted to be with. He didn’t want to be with anyone except Maggie, so it was simple, really.

“Oh.” Taken aback, there was a slightly surprised look on her model-esque, angular face. She was beautiful—that was an objective fact—but there was just one problem. She wasn’t Maggie. Maybe she wasn’t used to being turned down; there was almost a sense of arrogance as she gave a half-shrug, “Well, let me know if that ever changes.”

The jazzy rhythm of a ringtone shattered the quiet ambience of the mostly empty room, and he pulled the small, silver flip phone from his pocket. A little, involuntary smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Speak of the devil. It was Maggie’s ringtone that she’d set for herself at some point, so he’d always know when it was her calling.

Taking a few steps backwards towards the door, he shook his head as he flipped it open, his finger hovering over the green button with the smile still on his lips, “Sorry, I don’t think it will.”

February 21, 2025

She could only stare at him for several seconds, dumbfounded as the weight of his words fell upon her. Her shoulders fell with the weight as she searched for words, coming up only with a whispered, “What?”

With his jaw set, she could see the vein on the side of his neck protrude as he crossed the living room, needing space for just a moment. He couldn’t think when she was around; it was like she made every rational thought in his mind disappear and replaced all of them with her presence. She was dangerous.

There was a dark look that cast a shadow over his exhausted face as he looked at her in defeat, “I’m fucking broken and still trying to pick up all the goddamn pieces. I don’t know who I am or what the fuck I want, but I know that I can’t be Steve.”

The way he spat the last four words made it feel like she’d been struck by shrapnel from some ticking time-bomb.

There was a piece of Maggie that hurt for him because he wasn’t broken—not in the slightest, no matter what he thought. Like her, Bucky was bumped and bruised from all of the hits that the world had landed on him, but she loved every imperfection they’d left behind. She loved him because, not despite. She loved him, just as she’d been loved before.

Beneath the hurt was a ghost of offense; at his statement, she began playing back every memory she had of him. She’d been so careful to never compare him to Steve—not aloud at least. But had she allowed those mental parallels that she’d drawn affect him? Had she hurt him and had no clue all the while?

Unable to look at him though she could feel his eyes burning her, she tugged at her fingers as she whispered weakly, “You thought that’s what I wanted?”

“You were going to marry him!” Running a hand through his cropped hair, he gave a stilted shrug, like something had been set in stone that he was powerless to change.

“I know.” She got out severely as her eyes shot back to his and she pressed her lips together to stop herself from snapping further. Measuring each careful breath, she tried to speak without crying any more than she already had. The subject was far less painful than it once had been but there was still some residual sting that had been left behind.

“Trust me, I know I was.” With several slow steps, she approached him, holding his eyes, and waiting for him tell her to stop. Her voice was soft, like if she was any louder, she’d shatter something fragile, “I wouldn’t trade those years for anything, but I had to let him go, Bucky. And the only reason I was able to do it was because of you.”

It was like their own grief had alleviated the other's; sharing the burden had lightened the load. As he stared at her, there was something deep in his eyes that was pained.

Even if it was useless, even if he didn’t love her back, even if there wasn’t anyone else, she had to get everything off of her chest now before she could talk herself out of it again.

Reaching out with a shaking hand, she took his and touching him felt like coming up for air after being underwater for so long that her lungs had begun to hurt as they struggled to survive; it was bracing and beautiful and he made her feel like she could breathe again, “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I wanted you to be him; I don’t.” Shrugging, it felt like her heart was wide open as her watery eyes stayed trained on him and she whispered earnestly, “I just want you.”

How had she managed to do it? To let herself into the cracks of his heart, warming and filling it with her golden light? When he was with her, he didn’t feel broken or incomplete. There was a comfortable wholeness that he felt like he’d been searching for his entire life.

But what could he give her in return? He couldn’t even guarantee that she would be safe with him; when Sam had told him that Karli had called Sarah, his first fear had been that maybe she’d found Maggie too, or maybe she’d even taken her. He would have ripped the world apart to get her back.

If she was the radiant setting sun, he was dusk—an ever-looming darkness that always came to eventually eclipse the light.

Squeezing his eyes closed, Bucky’s grip tightened on her hand as his resolve began to crack, “Maggie…”

As he trailed off, she was still stuck on his earlier wording. He’d said deserved—like she was some martyr or saint. Like she hadn’t made her own fair share of mistakes in her life. Like he wasn’t good enough for her. Dropping his hand, she crossed her arms once more as she defensively pointed out, “And who are you to tell me what I deserve, anyway?”

She’d wracked her brain, again and again and came up empty handed every time. What had happened that he’d had such a change of heart? It was like, one morning, they were fine but twelve hours later—oh.

Understanding washed over her like a tidal wave, knocking Maggie off of her feet, and pulling her violently out to sea.

“Is this about the thing in the paper?” She’d eventually seen the print edition of the Daily Bugle’s rumors—of course, he had too. His silence in response to her question would have been answer enough but the way he avoided her eyes sealed the deal. Struggling to keep the frustration at bay and out of her voice, she begged, “Bucky, you know all of that was bullshit!”

Shaking his head, his voice was low as he brokenly admitted, “I didn’t want anyone to look at you differently because you were with me.”

Her bottom lip wobbled at the pain in his voice. He thought so little of himself. Even after all this time, all the times he’d fought to save the world, everything he’d done to repent for the sins of his past—would he ever believe it was enough? Believe he was enough?

It bubbled over. Finally, she snapped, as fast, uneven breaths struggled to fill her chest. The sob was audible as she raised her voice desperately, “I don’t care what anyone else wants!”

For the first time in her life, Maggie didn’t want to take anyone else’s opinion into consideration. No one else mattered; what she and Bucky wanted, what they did, was no one’s concern except their own. It felt good not to give a shit, like a shackle around her ankle had been cut and she was free.

Finally, he looked at her as she explained erratically, almost hysterical, “I've spent most of my life thinking about what was best for everyone else, and what they wanted, and I never let myself have what I wanted.”

“But what if—”

“No.” Pointing a finger at him, he clammed up at her firm reprimand—she wasn’t done. She ignored the black flecks of mascara that she knew had begun to speckle her cheek from her tears as she let out a humorless laugh, “I have spent my entire life thinking about what-ifs and all that’s done is hurt me and I can’t do that anymore. I don’t want to.”

Standing in front of Bucky, she was firm, “I’m not going to give up before we even try.” Cautiously, she placed her freezing hands on his scruff-covered cheeks, and he shivered at the touch he’d missed so badly over the last month. Like it was a reflex, his hands gravitated to her soft waist.

Her thumb brushed soothingly over his cheek as the vulnerability broke through her exterior; she was just as afraid as he was. Her voice shook, “If you don’t feel the same, that’s fine, but if there’s even the smallest chance that you do, I want this. I want you, Bucky.” Her watery eyes searched his as she begged in a barely audible whisper, like she hadn’t even meant to say it aloud, “Just…please say you want me too.”

Resting his forehead against hers, Bucky melted like he was finally laying down to sleep after being deprived of rest for so long. He didn’t want to fight it anymore, he just wanted her.

Murmuring softly, he closed his eyes, “Of course, I do.”

September 12, 2024

Curling her fingers in the fabric of his shirt, Maggie’s voice was almost inaudible as she asked, “Do you ever wish you could go back and do it all again?”

Closing her eyes tightly, she wished she could retract her inquiry as she waited for his response. The handful of seconds were painful until she felt the pillow jostle the slightest bit as Bucky shook his head and murmured a low, “no.”

It felt like she could breathe again. His large hand splayed on her back felt like a pleasant weight as it drifted up and down. She could feel his warm breath on her forehead as he whispered, “No. I’m happy right here.”

She was grateful that the room was pitch black; even the dim light from the streetlamps outside her window weren’t enough to illuminate the stray tears that fell down her cheek and landed silently on the satin pillowcase. If she said another word, he’d know she was crying again, and she’d done far too much of that in the past twenty-four hours.

With a quiet sniffle, she shifted closer to him. Slotting her thick-sock-clad feet between his, she curled into his chest, burying her face into the soft, gray fabric of his shirt. It went without saying, but she was happy that he was there, too.

Though her breath slowed, and her limbs felt heavy, sleep evaded her. How could she have been so tired on the couch where she’d almost totally drifted off to sleep, yet her mind refused to rest once she was in bed?

Counting her own breaths, counting Bucky’s, counting Alpine’s deep snores, she almost broke. It vaguely registered in her mind that he was also awake when his lips brushed against her temple, softly whispering into her hair, “He shouldn’t have wanted anyone but you.”

It was a valiant effort to keep her breath from catching in her chest though her heart rate had begun to compete with the speed of light. There was no doubt who ‘he’ was referring to, but the weight of the barely spoken statement fell on her like a ton of bricks.

This was what it felt like to finally be someone’s first choice.

February 21, 2025

“You do?” Squeezing her eyes shut, she prayed that it wasn’t a dream or her mind playing a cruel joke. He wanted her, too?

He. Wanted. Her.

“I never wanted anyone else.” He breathed out, his fingers clenching the soft knit of her sweater before releasing them and sliding his arms around her, pulling her closer as he felt his own eyes grow warm with tears. He hadn’t cried since he’d been in Wakanda. Since the Winter Soldier had been taken out of his head.

Under her fingers, Maggie felt the way his jaw clenched hard before he finally exhaled plaintively, “I’m so sorry, Maggie.”

Honesty.

She had to be honest; she hadn’t been when she’d made that rule about not having feelings for one another, and she hadn’t been when she’d said that she was happy that he’d found someone. She couldn’t just pretend that it hadn’t hurt, that it was fine, and they could just ride off into the sunset together.

Her voice came out far smaller and more insecure than she intended for it to as she asked hesitantly, “But why did you lie?”

“I was a coward and I…” Pulling back to look at her—but keeping her tight in his arms because he never wanted to let her go again—his eyes were guilty as they swept over her curious, disappointed expression as she hung on to his words. Cringing, he admitted, “I thought it might hurt less.”

Pressing her lips together, she took a breath. Misguided as it was, she should have known that it was because he thought it was better for her, but it still burned. Shaking her head, she was frank with a pained smile as she pointed out, “It didn’t.”

Pulling her in tightly, he tucked her head just below his chin and held her close to his body. With only her presence, the feeling of her body pressed against his, Bucky felt his heartbeat begin to slow as he shook his head, “I shouldn’t’ve lied.”

“You should’ve just talked to me.” Maggie hummed into his neck, taking in the scent of him that she’d grown used to. The clean smell of his soap, the fresh scent of his washing detergent, the smoky, spicy cologne that was clinging to his skin after being applied so many hours earlier.

Who was she to give him advice on ‘just talking’ to someone? Maybe it was because that had been a mistake that she’d made thousands of times before, because he was the first person that she refused to make it with. Who would she be if she didn’t give him the grace that she’d been given? Maybe he’d been stupid, but he was hers.

“I forgive you.”

She felt the way his breath caught in his chest, like he’d been worried that he’d done something unforgiveable, “You do?”

“I know how it feels to be scared.” One of her hands that had been loped behind his neck drifted up, running her fingers through the soft, short hair at his nape as she assuaged him, “To want to run away.”

That was something she’d understood better than anyone because it was all she’d known since she was twenty-one. She’d run from her life after her parents died. From Nick. From Ben. And even though she said that she’d tell him if she ever felt like doing it again, she had eventually run from Steve too.

But she was done running away because there was no escaping pain or loss—that was life and it couldn’t be stopped, just as the Earth couldn’t be prevented from spinning. Running may have taken her around the world and from one pair of arms to another, but it hadn’t taken away the hurt, it hadn’t made her feel any better than if she’d stayed—it had only delayed the inevitable.

Now, there were so many things that she wanted, and, for the first time, she felt like she was running towards them as fast as she could. Even if the wolves were nipping at her heels every step of the way, she knew it was better to have loved and lost rather than to never have loved at all.

Because, without a doubt, that’s what it was. Maybe at first, she’d been a little unsure but now she couldn’t be more certain: she loved him. The lazy look he gave her from his spot on the bed when she woke up before him, the way he absentmindedly played with her hair as she fell asleep, the pleasant pain in her side from laughing at something he said—all of the small things just added up to it, like it was some perfect mathematic proof.

Perhaps he was like her before she knew Steve—utterly convinced that everything she hated about herself made her unlovable. Like her, he was wrong.

Leaning back to look at him, her words were gentle as a sad smile played on her lips, “Why is it so hard for you to believe that because I loved him, I couldn’t love you too?”

His arms tightened around her waist at the question, and she’d never seen his eyes so soft as he looked at her, his lips parted just slightly as he absorbed the words.

It felt like grace.

Maggie loved him—a fervent, open-hearted, persevering love.

Before he could speak, her hands trailed over his broad shoulders and down to where they came to rest on his chest. She could feel the fast, steady thump of his heart through his shirt as she clarified pointedly with a slow shake of her head, “I don’t want you to be Steve.” Tapping her index finger against his sternum, she held his gaze as she begged him to hear her and truly listen to what she was saying, “You have so many things that make you good but you’re too fucking blind to see any of them.”

Clenching the soft fabric of his shirt in her fists, she finally tore her eyes from his piercing gaze. No more lies. She focused on the three buttons beneath his collar; the top one was undone, and she spoke to the hollow of his throat instead of his face as she admitted quietly, “I read your file from…from Hydra. When you were—”

Cutting herself off, Maggie bit the inside of her cheek; it wasn’t who he’d been. Correcting herself, she continued, “When they made you do all of that stuff, they had to convince you that you were doing it to make the world a better place because otherwise, you wouldn’t be on their side.”

Treating him like some sick experiment, they’d realized that it was like Skinner’s operant conditioning: positive reinforcement worked more miracles than punishment ever could. They’d abused the scientific method in the name of chaos because he’d been too virtuous for their cause to corrupt without help.

“It took them years,” Her voice cracked as she imagined everything that he’d been made to endure, “Of hurting you and torturing you, to break you down enough to do what they wanted because you’re so strong and so good. And even then, they just had to keep starting over because a part of you fought back every fucking time!”

A drop of salted water that had come from a set of blue eyes rather than brown landed on her hand and she took a shaky breath as she looked back up to meet his bloodshot eyes; finding tears swimming in them, her own began to fall more freely. His warm hand gathered both of hers, pressing them harder against his chest as he fought to breathe.

No one had ever been so brazenly candid with him; everyone shied away from his past but not Maggie—never Maggie. She faced it with a sense of bravery, that very few others had possessed, because she knew there was light beyond the darkness that he was always so ashamed of.

Shaking her head, her voice was still thick with tears, “And it’s not fair that you had to go through that. And we can’t change the past, but you’re in control now; you can make new choices.” Taking back one of her hands, she placed it on his warm cheek and made him look down at her. Steadying her voice, she spoke plainly so there was no mistaking the words she wanted to drill into his head, “You might think you’re too broken to ever let yourself be loved but you’re wrong. You’re the one that has to decide. You just have to choose.”

‘Please choose.’

Maybe before, she would have said that it wasn’t so simple, but time had taught her that it was. For several minutes, they stood in the echoey silence of his plain apartment as he held her eyes. The intensity didn’t scare her anymore like it had at the beginning. What was the use? She already knew he could see right through her.

God, she wanted to drown in that salt blue sea for the rest of her life.

Finally, his voice cracked as he quietly asked, “You read my file?”

“Yes.” Her teeth caught her bottom lip, it slipped free as she nodded, and her face went warm. There was the guilt that she’d felt as she opened the manila folder, her eyes hungrily devouring every painful line. Taking a breath, she started, “I’m sorry, I know it was an invasion of your privacy and—”

Shaking his head at her line of thinking, Bucky cut her off cautiously, “You still…love me?”

His words were so soft, so nervous, that it broke her heart just a little more. He thought that she’d stop loving him if she knew the entire truth, but she was resolute. So, he wasn’t a saint. Neither was she—she’d been in the wrong almost as often as she’d been in the right. Neither one of them were perfect, maybe she didn’t even believe in perfection anymore, but there was a feeling that tugged at her, deep inside her chest, that maybe they were perfect for each other.

Maybe that’s what they’d been missing all along; they needed the other to make their shattered hearts whole again.

“Yes.” She exhaled, her thumb brushing over his cheek as a little smile formed on her lips, “Yes, I still love you, James.”

Pulling her in tightly, he buried his face deep in her hair and took a deep breath like she was some drug he never wanted to be clean of. That familiar, sweet almond scent sent a wave of calm crashing over his nervous system that was busy running rampant from her confession. His voice was muffled into her hair when he finally spoke again, his voice pained, “I don’t know how to do this.”

“To do what?” Maggie breathed out as her eyes drifted closed, pressing her cheek against his warm chest. Her hand rubbed his back soothingly, her nails scraping softly over the scars that were hidden beneath his shirt, over the familiar border from skin to vibranium.

“To be happy.” He croaked out, “To be in love.”

He could feel the way she nodded, never one to back down from any challenge, as she whispered, “We can figure it out together.”

“It’s always been you.” He murmured, pulling back, and taking her face in his hands to look at her closer. His eyes were still so soft, like there was some hazy halo of warmth surrounding them. His thumb dragged across her lower lip as he admitted in a secretive whisper with a little smile finally taking up residence on his tired face, “I don’t remember what it was like before I loved you.”

Standing on her toes, she used a hand behind his neck to pull him down and connect their lips for the first time in far too long. He tasted like something sweet and addicting and the way his tongue brushed against the seam of her mouth sent her head spinning. She hadn’t fully let herself miss him but, god—had she ever. Slipping his arms back around her, he lifted her with an ease that she’d long since grown used to.

Kicking off her shoes, she wrapped her legs around his hips and smiled against his lips; the short skirt rode up tightly around her thighs as she crossed her ankles and tightened her arms like she was trying to merge their separate bodies into one. All she wanted was to feel him as close as possible; she needed to feel his touch that she’d been denied. One of his hands braced her ass, holding her up easily, as the other tangled in her hair, tugging gently and making her breathe a hot sigh into his mouth.

His apartment was like a mirror image of her own, the layout flipped opposite, so as he carried her down the hall, she giggled into their slow, honeyed kiss when the memories flooded back to the very first time they’d been in the same position, running on adrenaline and pent-up sexual tension from months of dancing around each other.

“What’s so funny, peach?” He trailed his lips down her neck to the collar of her tight, cable-knit jumper and she could feel the way his own lips curled into a smile at the melodic sound of her laugh. She never would have thought that she’d miss that stupid nickname, but she had.

“I never saw this coming.” Maggie’s words were breathy as tipped her head upwards, her waves falling down her back as she exposed more of her neck to him, feeling a warmth pooling low in her belly as his teeth grazed against the thin skin, “You. Us.”

His soft hum against her throat sent a shiver down her back. Looking around, she realized that she’d never been in his room as long as she’d known him. The bed was perfectly made like something out of a catalogue with a dark navy quilt and four uniform, looking pillows. There weren’t any decorations except a single picture on the nightstand.

As he laid her back on the firm mattress, she got a closer look and grinned as he tugged her sweater off. It was them from their first trip to Louisiana. Sam had taken it while they were dancing; she’d forgotten all about it, but apparently, he hadn’t. Not even after all this time.

He’d never shown her the picture and even after they stopped talking, he never put it away.

Yanking him back down into a slow, dreamy kiss where his tongue caressed hers familiarly, she wiggled her hips to aid him in the effort to rid her of the tight skirt that hugged her thighs. As he pulled back to catch his breath, she yanked his t-shirt off and threw it over the edge of the large bed. Catching his earlobe in her teeth gently and letting it go as he shivered, Maggie murmured in his ear teasingly, “Are you going to make love to me, James?”

“You bet your sweet ass I am.” As he gently squeezed her sides, she squealed before he sat up on his knees between her splayed thighs with a grin and undid his belt and jeans. Sitting up, she propped herself up on her hands to watch with eager eyes. Kicking the offending clothing off, he tugged her further down the bed until her head was nestled comfortably on the pillows. Hovering over her, he growled, “Gonna worship my girl like she fuckin’ deserves because I love her.”

He punctuated each of the last three words with progressively hotter, wetter kisses down her neck. Peppering soft ones across her chest, he traced the lace edge of her bra before slipping a hand under her back and undoing the clasp with deft fingers. Tossing it aside, his lips trailed down between her soft breasts.

Threading her fingers into his hair, a sweet sigh left Maggie as her eyes fluttered shut and he wrapped his lips around one of her tight, pink nipples that begged for his attention, “And I love you.”

The deep groan he gave in response sent vibrations through her chest as his teeth tugged at the sensitive peak; switching his attention to its twin, he murmured against her warm skin, “Never wanna stop hearing you say that.”

“Keep this up and you won’t.”

“Mm, whatever you say, doll.” With a low chuckle, Bucky slipped his fingers beneath the elastic of her panties and grazed the pads of his fingers across silky skin. Groaning at how soaked he’d found her, Bucky slowly ground his hips into the bed, willing himself not to blow at merely touching her.

Her thighs tensed as she rocked her hips up into his touch involuntarily. The hand that didn’t have its nails digging into one of his shoulders was clenching the blanket, wrinkling the fabric that had been tucked tautly just seconds ago.

As he coated his finger in her wetness, he slipped it inside her warmth easily and she let out a quiet whine at the welcome intrusion as they caressed her velvet walls, dragging in and out slowly, “Fuck—”

“You didn’t think that I’d forgot how to make you feel good, did you?” A second finger joined his first, but the pleasant stretch was gone before she could even really enjoy it. Chuckling at the little pout on her gloss smeared lips, he licked her wetness from his digits before rolling the soft fabric down her thighs, murmuring quietly, “I know this body, baby. Know exactly what you need…”

Settling between her thighs, he tucked her legs over his broad shoulders and dragged her body closer to his by her hips. Pressing a soft kiss to her bikini line, he took his time reacquainting himself with every inch of her smooth skin. Dragging his lips down her hips, he pressed them to her mound before caressing her thighs with them, purposefully avoiding where she needed him most.

Squirming under his touch, he stilled her with large hands pressing her hips into the mattress. Blowing a little stream of cool air over her glossy folds, her whimper made his grin widen. Slipping his hands lower and lower, he used his thumbs to spread her lips, revealing her needy, pink sex to his hungry gaze, “Mm, look how wet you are, baby.” Pressing a gentle kiss to her swollen, red clit, he teased lowly, “Did you miss me?”

“Yes,” Maggie breathed out, her fingers gravitating to his hair and tangling in the soft strands like she knew he liked. He let out a groan at the gentle tug and flattened his tongue, licking a broad stripe from her entrance up to lave around her little button. The muscles in her stomach tightened beneath his fingers at the feeling and she gasped out, “Fuck, James…”

He lapped slowly at the creamy wetness that was dripping from her like the sweetest nectar. Her taste coated his tongue and he groaned at the heady essence, hooking his arms around her thighs, holding her hips tightly as she tried to keep still through the pleasure that was making her twitchy, desperate for more—for as much as he’d give her.

Bucky’s scruff made the delicate skin of her thighs sensitive and red as he sealed his lips around her clit, sucking it in erratic patterns that made her eyes roll back as she jerked her hips into his mouth, whimpering out a breathless plea, “Yes, right there!”

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.” He murmured against her cunt, his spit and her wetness dripping down his chin as he sloppily sucked and licked like he’d been starved; slipping two fingers back into her needy hole easily, she continued to babble unintelligibly for him, and he smirked. The way he could make Maggie turn off her racing mind was one of his favorite accomplishments.

Thrusting his fingers into her at a quick pace, the slick sounds made her face go red as the coil drew tighter deep in her belly. Gripping his hair tightly, she could feel the knot beginning to unwind as he sucked varying patterns on her clit, murmuring lowly, “Come for me, baby. Love the way your sweet little cunt squeezes my fingers…”

A moan was pulled from Maggie’s swollen lips as she felt her chest shudder and collapse in on itself at the sudden wave of bliss that flooded her brain. Her thighs tensed almost painfully, trapping his head between them as her toes curled. After her climax receded, she lazily grabbed for him and pulled him above her with a wordless whine.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she yanked him down to kiss his pouty, pink lips that were still glossy with her juices. He moaned into her mouth as he held himself up above her, his hardness pressing hot and heavy as it rested between their bodies. Murmuring against his mouth, she was still floating as she begged, “Need to feel you, baby.” Slipping a hand down, she pulled his length from his tight boxers, giving it slow, languid strokes that made his knees weak, “Please? I need your cock…”

Unable to deny her any longer, Bucky groaned and shed the last bit of clothing. Adjusting her beneath him, he brushed his lips sweetly against her dewy forehead as he murmured, “I’ve got you, c’mere…” Looking down between their bodies, he groaned as he traced his weeping, ruddy tip between her folds, once, twice, before using her wetness and watching as he slowly sank into her warmth, “Fuck, honey. You fit me like a goddamn glove, like this pussy was made for me.”

It had been some time since she’d felt the familiar stretch and she let out a broken whimper as she squeezed her thighs tightly around his hips. Eyes fluttering shut, he bottomed out and pressed his hips flush to hers as she agreed breathlessly, “Only you—fuck!”

Brushing some of the hair from her forehead, he stilled until her hazy, heavy-lidded eyes opened again to find his. With a smile, he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips and exhaled shakily as he dropped his forehead to hers, “I love you so goddamn much.”

“I love you too, Buck.” Those words sounded like his new favorite song, and he let out a soft moan as he slowly pulled out, relieving some of the pressure, before rolling his hips back into hers. Maggie’s nails dug into his back painlessly at the slow motion that he began.

“I’m never gonna let you go.” Setting a familiar, sensual rhythm, he watched as she allowed the pleasure to fill her with every slow thrust. She hummed at the way he fit her so perfectly, like two puzzle pieces; lacing the fingers of one of her hands with his, his words were low as his lips brushed against her ear again, “You’re mine, peach. Always.”

Nodding, Maggie pushed back against each thrust of his hips as she panted out, “And you’re mine—” A whimper was ripped from her lips as he tilted his pelvis, finding that spot deep inside of her so easily, “Yes, right there!”

“Of course, I am, baby…” He agreed, slipping his other hand down her body to circle her throbbing clit with the pads of his fingers as he growled lowly, “All yours. Always.”

His broad hips between her legs made it impossible for her to squeeze her thighs together tightly at the sensation that was just on the edge of becoming too much for her to handle. She’d been wound so tightly—no amount of time with her fingers or vibrator could ever compare to how he made her feel.

“Oh god—I’m gonna come…” Maggie’s breath hitched as she arched her back, needing to feel him pressed against her as she chased her release. Her nails dragged slowly down his back as she begged into his ear, “Come with me. Wanna feel you come inside me. Fuck, James, fill me up, please. Need it so bad…”

“My dirty girl.” Bucky praised through a clenched jaw, snapping his hips into hers faster as he felt the way his balls drew tighter from the way her walls began to clench around him. He assured her sweetly as his fingers tugged back the hood of her clit to strum the sensitive bundle of nerves without any hindrance, “I’ve got you, baby. Let go for me, right now. Let me feel that cunt milkin’ my cock, baby—”

With a gasp that pulled a sharp intake of air into her lung, Maggie felt her entire body burst into a firework show of brilliant light flashes that she could see, even with her eyes squeezed shut; for the second time, in just a few minutes, the rubber band snapped again as her orgasm washed over her and sent her reeling as she gripped his shoulder tightly, tremors rocking her body. Fluttering around his cock, she moaned as the shockwaves rippled out and his movement became sloppy.

“That’s it, fuck…” His hips jerked one last time as he pressed deep into her, his tip brushing her cervix as he spilled his release into her warmth, painting her walls with his spend. The muscles in his abdomen clenched, going harder for a minute before he could finally relax. Not bothering to slip out of her, he easily rolled on to his back and pulled her body atop of his as he mumbled with a satisfied, blissful smile on his tired face, “I love you.”

An airy giggle was exhaled from Maggie’s nose as she teased, “Are you ever going to get tired of saying it?”

His lips pressed against her forehead once again as he affectionately denied the notion, “Never.”

“Me either.”

She didn’t care that his chest was still slightly damp with sweat or that her hair was probably incredibly knotted; there was an overwhelming sense of peace that washed over her as she laid half on top of him. His fingers trailed lazily up and down her spine, going over each bump of her vertebrae slowly. She shivered at the feeling as her heartrate began to slow.

Her eyes were closed but she could feel his voice from deep inside his chest as Bucky looked down at her with an expression that she’d never seen from him before, murmuring quietly but with a fierce resolve, “I’m going to marry you.”

Once upon a time, those words had struck a cold kind of fear deep inside of Maggie, turning her heart to a frozen block of ice. It wasn’t too long ago that everything had felt so painfully temporary—even things that felt like they were meant to last forever. But now? Now, she felt like she could stop running. She’d reached her destination; this was what she’d been looking for all along and she’d finally found it. There was no chance that she was ever letting it go, that she was ever letting him go.

“Yeah,” Pressing a kiss to the middle of his chest, Maggie rested her chin on his sternum as she blinked up at him with warm, molten honey eyes. She felt whole, like every mistake that she’d made and every demon she’d fought had been worth it to find this serene peace. Meeting his gaze with a happy, golden shimmer of complete contentment in her own, she agreed softly, “You are.”

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themorningsunshine · 1 year

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I like me better when I am with you

Masterlist

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary - Bucky isn't in love with you, nope, not at all, not even a bit, that doesn't mean he has to like that man who is shamelessly drooling over you.

Warnings - Fluff, Bucky’s internal thoughts, jealousy

Word count - 2.8k

a/n - I had so much fun writing this.

Bucky’s internal monologue is in italic.

Stark parties were his least favourite. They always consisted of the same kind of people. Bucky didn't have to remember their faces to know that. They were all the same. Rich people with money much more than they could handle, spend it in the worst and the dumbest way possible. No, really, why the hell would they get their already filthy expensive phone coated with gold? And don't even get him started on when he had heard a man complaining that Tony hadn't put 'perfectly squared ice cubes' worth 300$ each in their drinks. Hell, he had somehow started respecting Tony's choices and that man was currently wearing a 100,000$ suit.

But these parties were never this unbearable. He always used to have company. He still has Steve sitting beside him and don't get him wrong, Steve is his best friend but there's a limit as to how much Bucky can hear that man complain about the new recruits.

"Can't believe Tony was able to do that. That man has got brains. Only if he was not so arrogant. Don't you think, Buck?"

His name slipping from Steve's mouth makes him look at his best friend who has been talking to him for .... well, a long time. He didn't even know when he switched topics.

Bucky never really zones out. He is a great listener but today, something else has caught his attention completely. Something which keeps bugging him and he doesn't even understand why.

Steve sighs as he realises just how much his best friend has been listening to him. "You know, Sam is right, you do have a staring problem."

"No, I don't," Bucky says in a way that makes it look like that's the most absurd and offensive thing he has ever heard.

Steve chuckles and says, "You don't have to sit here and pretend that it doesn't hurt you."

Bucky gives out a sarcastic chuckle. After everything he has been through, there is nothing in a hundred-mile radius of this party that could remotely hurt him. "I am just fine, Steve. Why would I be hurt?" He doesn't say he is good, or great, he says 'just fine' 'cause that's his default setting. To be just fine. He is rarely ever more than that.

No, you are, when you are with her. His inner thoughts whisper to him. He shakes his head to get that thought away as if it had offended him too.

Steve gives him a small smile and nods his head towards a direction that Bucky has been not so subtly staring at for the past half an hour.

And there you are. In all your glory. In the beautiful, simple, golden outfit you are wearing, sipping on your drink in the most gentle way possible. The colour golden suits you, Bucky thinks.

That's what you said when she was wearing blue. A person can look good in 2 colours. Then what about green and - Shut up.

He looks at you again and notices the thing that has been bugging him. You're still talking to him. The man with the too smooth suit and the too silky hair and the too gentle words and the - ... God, he hates that man. And he has reasons for it. Who the hell wears a black tie with a black suit? Doesn't he have any other colour to wear? And who the hell drinks non-alcoholic drinks when at a Stark party? And then Bucky remembers you telling him once that you hated the smell of alcohol. That you couldn't stand within a metre radius of the people who had drunk a lot. But, that man doesn't know that.

You are still smiling at him and talking. But, that's okay. You love to talk. You could spend hours talking about the movie you just saw or the book you just read. That's nothing. And smiling, well you smile at everything. That's your default setting. To find beauty in everything and give it the most beautiful and genuine smile he has ever seen. You can really find the good in everything.

Maybe that's why she is friends with you.

That's not the point. You even smile at strays. And that's who the man is, a stray, a wild, animal.

Cannot be wilder than you. Or did you forget who you are, Buck?

Bucky doesn't like these thoughts. They tend to come back to him in crowded places. When there are too many people staring at him, talking about him. You always used to be there with him. Making fun of all these rich people and their etiquette.

The both of you would mostly escape from the party early, especially when you were done with what you actually came here for, which was always food. He had to agree. Tony did know how to throw a good party.

You would sneak him into the mini theatre and would watch the silliest movies, just to laugh at their absurdity. Or you would just take him to the roof and the both of you sat there, stargazing and talking. You were really a good friend of his.

Friend? Friends don't glare holes into the back of the man they're just talking to.

This man had approached you at the start of the party and hadn't left your side. Clingy. Rich, coming from you.

You didn't owe Bucky anything. You didn't sign a contract that you had to spend all these parties with him. No, it wasn't any of that. That doesn't mean it couldn't hurt.

"Buck, why don't you just tell her?" For a second, Bucky is taken aback. He had completely forgotten that Steve was still sitting there. What had happened to his super soldier skills?

Too busy gaping at her I remember asking you to shut up And I remember telling you not to fall in love with her

Bucky clears his throat at the last comment by his inner conscience. Sometimes, it acted weird.

"Tell who, what, Steve?" Bucky feigns nonchalance as if he has no idea what Steve is talking about.

Steve chuckles. "How many hers do you have in your life, Buck?" Noone. Just her.

Bucky is sure he is going crazy. Maybe he has had too much to drink. You haven't touched alcohol. Oh, I wonder why that is.

"I know many people who use that pronoun, punk. Nat, Wanda, Sharon, Maria, many shield agents, Carol, oh and yeah... y/n. You have to be more specific" Well done

"Fine, I will be more specific. How many 'hers' do you stare at?" "None." He replies, a little too fast and Steve gives him a knowing smirk. And there it goes...

"I am not staring at anyone, Steve." He gives him a pointed look. "Whatever sails your boat, Buck. But I'd recommend talking to her before it's too late."

Before it's too late

That sentence echoes in his ears. He didn't want to lose you. Not to the annoying guy who had still not left your side, not to the shield agent who always insisted on training with you whenever he got the chance, not to anyone. He didn't want to lose you. Never.

How can you lose someone who isn't even yours? This time his inner voice is gentle, pleading as if it is silently begging him to do something.

Before he even knows what he's doing, Bucky is out of his chair and walking towards the bar.

You chuckle at something the man says before you notice Bucky walking towards the both of you and your smile gets wider.

"Hey, doll." He greets you, completely ignoring the man standing a couple of feet away.

: "Hey, Buck. Please tell me Steve didn't talk your ear out about work." You say with a chuckle. Of course, you had noticed Bucky talking to Steve, your eyes tended to look for his even in a room full of hundreds.

Bucky just lets out a chuckle, shrugging, already feeling much at ease now that he was with you.

A clearing of throat brings both of your attention back to the man standing beside you.

"Gosh, I am sorry. Bucky, this is Todd. Todd Williams. You remember the law firm Tony was talking about the other day?"

Bucky just nods his head, least interested in who this man was.

"He is the owner." You introduce him to Bucky with a polite smile on your face and Bucky wants to rip this man's head off. Even though he just knows his name, he is pretty sure he is going to hate him, if he doesn't already.

"Hi, Bucky, I have heard a lot about you." The man brings his hand forward for a handshake and Bucky thinks he will chop off his hand before he shakes it with the man.

"James." He replies with a stern look on his face.

Todd awkwardly takes his hand back and narrows his eyes in confusion.

"My name is James. Only my friends call me Bucky."

You widen your eyes at Bucky. You knew he never liked meeting new people and that he was not really the warmest to strangers, but he was never so.... hostile. If looks could kill, Todd would be six feet under by now.

"It's nice to meet you, James." Todd tries again, now slightly scared of the former winter soldier.

"I wish I could say the same. What are you even doing here?" Bucky asks, annoyed.

"Bucky." You whisper yell his name to remind him how Tony had conducted an emergency meeting to tell everyone that they have to be nicer to the guests. You, then put on a smile before replying for Todd, "He is here for the charity auction. Isn't that nice?"

Bucky squints his eyes at you as if he can't figure out what's so nice about giving your money away for charity.

"That is just an excuse, really," Todd says, in an attempt to break the tension. "I came here in hopes of meeting a beautiful woman." He then looks at you before saying, "Mission accomplished."

You giggle at his words, flustered. You know he is just trying to be nice and not flirty. He had just told you how badly he was missing his wife who was much better at these charity auctions than he was.

What you don't notice is how Bucky's jaws tense and his fists clench. If they were not standing in a room full of so many people, he would have picked the glass from the nearby table and broken it on Todd's head. Tony's warnings are damned.

He instead just says, "Well then, you don't have to stay for the auction. Leave."

Todd nervously chuckles."I could. But now that I am here, maybe I could enjoy the party for a bit."

"You should. Tony's parties have the best appetizers." You tell him, desperately trying to make him feel comfortable when there is an ex-assassin who looks like he could slit his throat if given a chance.

"But you know what's better? The exit gate. You should check it out and while you are at it, maybe also get your ass out of here." Bucky says without an ounce of hesitation in his voice.

"Bucky." You gasp. This wasn't funny anymore. "Can I talk to you? In private?"

You give Todd an apologetic smile before holding Bucky's hand to get the hell out of here, without waiting for his response.

Bucky stops for a moment to look at Todd again, "The exit gate is that way. Feel free to use it while we are gone."

You pull him with you and take him towards the nearest balcony, not leaving his hand till you are out in the cold air and can't hear the party from inside.

You let go of him to cross your arms across your chest. "Buck, what the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Showing an annoying joke of a man his place," Bucky replies, without a single ounce of guilt for what he has done.

"Bucky." It's your turn to be upset. "He is a businessman. A rich one. His contribution could be great for the auction. Do you not remember what Tony said?"

"I don't care what Tony says. What is he gonna do with so much money, anyways? Buying some piece of mind?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why in the nine realms were you so rude to Todd?" You snapped.

"Oh, so now you call him Todd, huh?"

"That's literally his name."

"It's a very stupid name, okay? But it suits him. A stupid name for a stupid man. In his stupid suit with his stupid money." Bucky rambles, disgusted as if he hasn't heard a worse name in his long life.

"Buck, you are behaving like a 5-year-old now. What's - ?" You stop yourself as an amused grin spreads on your face as you put the pieces together. "Oh, god!!" You place your palm on your mouth before whispering, "Bucky, you - You are jealous."

"No, no I am not, Not even a bit. Nada.Negative. Why would I be?" Bucky shakes his head as if that were a ridiculous thought. Why was everyone getting the most ridiculous ideas today?"

"I would have believed you if you hadn't said no 6 times. You are jealous." Your smile grows wider as you take a step towards him with a pointed look. "You are jealous because he was talking to me the whole time and he called me beautiful and said that I had a pretty smile." "When did he - " Bucky stops himself as he realises the rage in his voice will give him away. He takes a step back and turns away, till he is standing near the railing.

You stand beside him, about to say something, till you look into his eyes. His eyes have a look you have seen before. He is hurt. He is processing a lot of things that he doesn't want to think about. This wasn't amusing anymore. "Hey. I - I am sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Bucky, I am - "

"I am not jealous, okay?" He now turns and looks directly into your eyes. "I am not. I just don't like it when someone else has your attention. Not because I am jealous, no. But because I am scared." Bucky swallowed thickly. You had seen him vulnerable before when he had nightmares and you were trying to remind him where he was or when memories from his time at hydra hit him with full force. But this was a different kind. It was as if he was laying his soul bare in front of you. Voicing his worst fears.

"I am scared because I don't want anyone else to realise how amazing, smart, funny, kind and just so damn lovable you are. Because then they will steal you from me. I will lose you forever and - and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you to someone else. I don't want to lose you." He says the last sentence as if he is begging whatever god will listen to not let his worst fears turn true, to let him have this. Let him have you.

"Tell me, doll. Why am I so scared to lose you when you are not even mine?"

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked at him.

Before Bucky knew what was happening, you closed the distance between the both of you. As your lips met his, everything else stood at a standstill.

Bucky was too shocked to respond for a minute. This couldn't be happening. Did you feel the same way about him? How -

All these thoughts turn into nothing until you're the only one comprising his thoughts. And Bucky realises this is how it has been for a long time. It was just you. In his heart and his mind. Your warmth spread through him and captured his soul until it was impossible to separate the two of them.

He kisses you with the same love and gentleness as his hands find your waist to pull you impossibly closer towards him.

When the necessity to breathe arose, you pulled away but still stood close.

"I want to be yours, Buck."

If the kiss had stolen his breath away, your words make his heart beat frantically. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream.

"You don't mean that, doll. You - "

"I do. I do mean that, Buck. I choose you. And I'd always choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd always choose you”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier x you #marvel #oneshot #jealousy #love confessions #bucky barnes fluff

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vbecker10 · 25 days

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Laundry Day

How Could This Not Fit?! (Loki x fem reader Y/N)

Loads of Fun (Bucky x fem reader Y/N)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: You and Loki are living together in the Avengers Tower and you've asked him to help you with the laundry. You decide it's the perfect opportunity to prank him but that might not have been a good idea... not if you wanted to sleep tonight that is.

Warnings: ... um nothing really, alluding to sex but not much

A/N: I finished my laundry and was folding (trying desperately to fold) my fitted sheet and I came up with this silly little thing so... enjoy 💚

You take a bottle of water out of the fridge in the common kitchen, laughing to yourself as you shake your head.

"Something funny in the fridge?" Tony asks from the island, looking up from his tablet.

You turn to him and open the bottle. "No, I was just laughing about something that could possibly get me in a lot of trouble with Loki," you barely explain.

"I have no idea what that means," Steve says as he and Bucky join the conversation.

You take a sip of water and set the bottle on the island. "I was tired of being the one who did our laundry all the time so I told Loki he needed to help me with it today," you start to tell them.

"Still not seeing the funny," Tony says sarcastically.

"I'm getting there," you wave away his comment and he chuckles. "So anyway, I told him to help and he did... an okay job of it. I mean, the dryer and him got in a bit of a fight but we finally got it done," you continue.

"Did he break the dryer cause I've gotta do like four loads of laundry tonight?" Bucky asks concerned as he pulls out the stool next to Steve.

"How could you possibly have to do four loads of laundry?" Tony turns towards him. "You own one hoodie and three henleys at most," he adds.

"Can we get back to my problem?" you pull their attention back to yourself. "I might not have much time left," you joke but you aren't actually sure how long until Loki comes looking for you.

"What did you do to him?" Steve asks, sounding concerned for your safety. Loki would never hurt you of course, he loved you too much, but when you annoyed him you always found it hard to walk the next day.

"Well, he put all the laundry away using his magic but I told him that was cheating. He said it wasn't and we went back and forth for a bit until I made him a bet," you smile. Loki could never resist a wager, especially since he always assumed he would win, and he usually did. "I bet him... something," you suddenly realize you don't necessarily want the guys to know the dirty things you promised Loki and they all look away awkwardly for a moment as if they understood that.

"Right, whatever... so the bet was for him to make the bed himself, without his magic," you tell them.

"Look, I still don't like him very much but, give him a little credit. I think he's smart enough to figure it out," Bucky says.

"Yeah, that doesn't really seem like a bet you're going to win, Y/N," Steve agrees.

"Well... I might not have except for one teeny tiny little bitty detail," you assure them.

"Which is?" Tony asks with a mixture of curiosity and agitation that the story is taking so long.

"I switched the sheet set," you say, they all stare at you confused and you sigh. "I gave him a full size set... and we have a queen bed. There's not a chance in hell he's going to be able to get the fitted sheet on and if he does manage it, I'll know he used his magic and still win," you smile broadly, proud of yourself for tricking the trickster God.

"Well that's a dangerous game to play," Steve says and before you can respond you hear Loki coming down the hall.

"Y/N," he says when he enters the kitchen. You swallow as your mouth goes dry, he does not look happy. "You cheated," he says without question.

"No, I was just..." you try to explain but he walks towards you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

"You... cheated," he says slowly as he backs you into the counter by the sink.

"I mean, only a little," you say with a smile but he doesn't smile back. "And I only did it to make sure you didn't use your magic," you quickly try to explain.

"Um, I think we should go... literally anywhere else," Steve says as Loki grips your waist with both hands and keeps you pressed between himself and the counter.

"Don't worry, we're leaving," Loki says with a smirk, still looking only at you. Without warning he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You gasp and the suddenness of it and he uses one arm to hold you in place by the back of your legs as he turns to leave the kitchen. He pauses and picks up your water bottle. "You'll need to keep hydrated, it's going to be a very long night, love," he says as he carries you down the hall towards your room.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @theaudacitytowrite @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @foxherder @tonystank8

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1800jjbarnes · 1 year

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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : Bunnies shouldn't be wondering on their own. A big bad wolf is stalking the forest, and he will do anything to protect what is his.

『Word count』 : 1.84k

Paring: Wolf!Alpha!Bucky x Bunny!Hybrid!Reader

[Warnings] : Blood, knife, reader gets cut, Bucky goes wild, lots of gore, cruel words, swearing. Bucky in a suit cause that is a warning on its one. Dirty talk. Harassment, sexualising. Abuse. Toxic friendships. Triggering scenes. John being a disgusting person.

✦ The ALPHA AND BUNNY Universe ✦ -> [Click Here]

Masterlist | Navigation

You were just doing your normal run. Grabbing supplies and then heading back to your cottage. You were rushing a little bit because you needed to still pack your things for the couple of nights you will be at the den. Bucky had begged you to come over to see his brothers, so tonight you finally agreed. You were excited but very nervous as well. So your best idea you could conger was to get some supplies for a calming medicine. It is a simple recipe to calm anything from overthinking thoughts to a shaking body. But what you didn't expect to see was an old face on your journey.

You stopped cutting the fungi, hearing the leaves and twigs snapping under the weight of someone's footing. You looked over to where the sound had come from while still crouching in front of the large elm tree. His smile caught you off guard. He has gotten bigger since you've seen him last. His pitch black ears stood straight up high, not even flopping as he tilted his head to the side.

"Funny seeing you here." His voice got deeper too. It's no longer the pitchy mismatch tone you remember. He aged the two years you've been gone. Well, out casted... you were stunned, to say the least. Standing up slowly, you dropped your items in the basket with caution. Your community was housed in the far east, almost two whole forestry's down. Why would he be this far out? Unless...

"Wolf, got your tongue?" He chuckled, taking a few steps towards you. Hairs on your body stood up straight as a bad feeling rushed into your gut. Even though he was a friend back then, he has become nothing more than a stranger now. He didn't stop or even fight to keep you in the community. All you can recall is seeing him watch from the sidelines as you were shunned out of the village. He was no friend to you.

"Why are you here?" You finally speak up, taking a step back from him. He watches you closely, moving in time with you. Until a tree stops your footing, making you unable to step away from him anymore.

"I thought you'd be more of, Hey it's so nice to see you. It's been ages. How have you been doing John? I'm fine y/n thanks for asking." His words got sharper as each one fell. He was annoyed at your hostility, getting tired of the way you are standing your guard up as if he was going to do something to you.

"Why are you here, John... What do you want?" You sounded more stern this time, trying to keep your ground. You weren't the little defenceless bunny anymore. You had a voice. Bucky helped you with that. John, however, didn't like this new you. You weren't mould-able anymore. He can't bend you like he used to.

"I see being around these flea-ridden pests has turned you sour. Where did your manners go..." He traps you against the tree and his large body. He looks you up and down, fingers grazing over your flopped fluffy ears. "Where did my innocent sweet puffball go?" He twists his fingers over your cottontail, tugging slightly, making you gasp out in disgust. His breath pooled on your cheek, his lips parting lightly as if he wanted to kiss you. You closed your eyes, waiting for the worst, but he pulled away entirely, sighing out while stretching.

"Come on, let's go to this cottage of yours while we wait." He picked up the basket you had dropped.

"Wait for what?" You instantly regretted asking once you hear him reply, your heart stopping at his words as your blood ran cold.

"You're coming home."

Time was ticking, and as the sun began to fade into the setting, Bucky's pacing became more prominent. Where were you? You said to meet at the bend where the water met the hill before the pack grounds, but you were nowhere to be seen. He's been waiting for around thirty minutes already. Something was wrong, and he could tell. His bond with you made his wolf scream out in pain. No, something was definitely off, and he needed to find you now.

"ARGH, how long does this take?" His annoyance is spilling out of his words. He just wanted this to be done. He didn't want to be around you any more than he had to, but he had to do it so he could finally get the title of knight back at the kingdom. You sat in the same spot for the past hour, watching John pace back and forth near the front door of your cottage. He was getting impatient, biting his nails in annoyance. You watched him, hugging yourself. Your breath was hitched. You weren't terrified of him, but fear-filled your senses at his restlessness. He started to become more and more driven by anger. He needed to be able to prove himself. So he can finally be put as a knight in their court. He needed to be better. And if it meant to hurt you, he'd do it. In truth, he might have been friends with you when you were young, but now all he sees is a stranger whenever your eyes meet. He was not the boy that used to play hide and seek with or play jumping Johns or run around the castle halls. He was nothing to you.

"J-John can we just tal—Shut up, will you? God" He is laced with venom, swinging his pocket knife around his fingers as he sat down at your dining table. You straighten yourself, gulping slightly, watching him in the next room slowly slip more and more into impatience.

"Why do they want me back? It's been years." You try pushing your luck again, asking him an array of questions, in hopes it might gift you knowledge, but as he racks his finger through his dark hair, you know all you're doing is pushing his buttons until he snaps.

"Can't you just sit there and not talk like you used to, huh? God being around that animal and his friends really made you so dumb." He stood up, turning his back to you to look out the window. You felt hurt, anger even. You were scared, but not scared enough to push your luck.

"Mate...." He turned his head, with an eyebrow raised. At your sudden bold tone, "Bucky is my mate... not some animal." A growl buried in your chest. Maybe the wolves have brushed off on you.

"M-mate? Wow, that is by far the most disturbing thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth." Displeasure boiled on his tongue as he stood up tall, walking towards you. Your eyes widened at his sudden movements, crawling back onto the couch further and further, trying to get more distance from him. He knelt down right in front of you, pointing his knife in your direction, tilting his head along with the blade.

"You are so delusional, you know that. Soulmates? Mates? Bonds? Wolves just use that excuse to fuck one another. You know that, right? He probably saw you and thought, this little.." He leant closer, "Innocent..." His breath brushed on your cheek. "Bunny..." The tip of his knife grazed your upper thigh. "Looks so fuckable. I'm going to take her and make her my fuck toy." The knife sliced your thigh drawing blood immediately as he pulled away chuckling. His back straightens up as he looks down on you.

"That's what you are, aren't you? His stupid little sex toy. A slut for his own pleasure and here I thought you'd grow up to be a smart independent rabbit, but look at you now." He spat at you, some of it landing on your shorts as you hissed in pain from the cut. Your hand tried its best to keep the wound from opening but it was no use, blood was painting your couch, thigh and clothes. You become frozen, tears pooling in your eyes. You knew for a fact his words weren't true, but they still hurt you. He knew nothing of Bucky, nothing of his romantic tropes and loving nature. He didn't know anything about your mate, but the depiction he strode out made your heart shatter.

"You know, screw—" Before he could finish his sentence, the front door bursts open with a very sweaty, hot, and angry Bucky in its frame. John shivered slightly. All his talk might mean one thing, but seeing an actual wolf was another.

"Want to finish that sentence, John?" Bucky's voice was low, lower than you've ever heard it. His eyes were crimson, the gold only a small detail in his red pools.

"H-How do you know my name?" John answered with a question, his ears flopping down as a dead give away he was becoming frightened. If it was one thing you remembered about John, it was he was all bark and no bite. Pun intended. Bucky tilted his head, a snapping sound echoing from it as he cracked the plate in his spine. His hands pulled at his black suit cuffs, straightening his blazer upon his deep maroon blouse that hid underneath.

"I know a lot about you. You be surprised how much I know about my darlings kingdom. Every rabbit, where they live. Even where the king and queen, their parents." He pointed with anger in his tone at you. "Where they rest their little heads at night." He stepped forward, deeper into the room when a horrid smell, a smell he wishes never to smell from you. Blood. His eyes grazed your body, seeing your hand still holding the flesh wound, hot blood slipping through the cracks of your fingers.

That's it all terms of charisma, composure and sense of calmness goes out the window. Looking at you one last time, his eyes meet Johns in pure red rage. John gulps, knowing what Bucky was looking at, but before he can even think about getting his was out of it, Bucky moved faster than anything he could see, pining John to the nearest wall by the throat. His fingers pinch down on his windpipe, and Bucky's teeth are bared.

"You should have really thought before you touched what is mine." Bucky's words rang in John's ears as he screamed out within the second, feeling his neck being pierced by sharp talon-like teeth. His flesh was ripped away in one motion, like a butter knife cutting through soft cream. James spat out the flesh along with the blood that had mixed with his saliva, dropping John to the ground, where he quickly grabbed his neck, gasping for air.

"You think we are animals. Being compelled by the need to hunt our prey..." He crouched down, becoming eye level with the dying rabbit. "If that's so true, then I guess this makes you my prey..."

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marvelvillian23 · 2 months

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PLEASE!! I need fics rec for all of these! Especially the Convict. Please be multi Chapter fics.

It even can be Steve in these situations instead of Bucky I don’t mind.

*Photos From Pinterest

I’m currently reading Blood Moon Rising on AO3 by Sarahyellow.

It’s a A/B/O prison story where Bucky’s the convict and pre serum Steve is the prison counselor…I think. A riot breaks out and Bucky takes Steve hostage. 5/8 Chapters are up so far.

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sarahowritesostucky · 2 months

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📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3620

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

6. Somethin' with Bananas

Steve

Steve wakes up to Bucky spooning him, pressing his morning wood against his ass. He hums with his eyes still closed, enjoying the feeling. “Mmm, g’morning.”

Hands slide onto his hips. “Mornin’ Sunshine.”

Steve smiles. “Sunshine” is one of Bucky’s favorite pet names for him. Steve is rather fond of it too, after so many years together. His husband has a knack for making him feel special like that. “What’re you doin', Buck?” he warns softly, still smiling because he likes the feeling of being explored, even if they can't take this far right now because of—

“She left for work a while ago,” Bucky murmurs, the answer to a question that Steve hasn’t asked. Alone time doesn’t happen as much as it used to, these days. "Left a bunch of baking stuff out on the counter. There's a note threatening us with mortal peril if we eat any of her bananas."

"Hmm." Steve yawns deeply and wiggles his butt back against his husband's noticeable hardon. "Whas'she makin'?"

"Dunno. Somethin' with bananas." Bucky’s hand slides to the juncture of Steve’s legs. He palms the half hard line of his cock from over his briefs, massaging the bulge as it grows. Steve moans a little and tips his head back to Bucky’s shoulder, a wordless request for kisses. Bucky starts lavishing his neck with attention while his hand continues its slow work.

Steve loves moments like this. Early morning, the sun barely out and the world quiet, the bedroom air still and thick from sleep; easy, instinctual fucking; simple and not complicated, just the two of them loving on each other. He inhales a little sharper when Bucky finally slides his hand under the waistband of his underwear. “Yeah,” he whispers.

“Mmhm.” Bucky kisses his neck. “This what you wanted, Honey?” His hand is wrapped flush around Steve now, skin on skin. He strokes once up and down and gives a squeeze, starts up a slow, tight rhythm.

“Oh.” Steve bites his lip, eyes closed as he just feels what Bucky’s doing to him. “Mm. Mmhm. S’real good.” He shivers when Bucky’s thumb swipes at his cockhead, spreading the wetness around and pressing firm against his slit. “Fuck …”

“Always were a leaker,” Bucky says lowly. “You get so wet, Honey.”

“Buck,” Steve whines. He loves Bucky’s talk in bed but he’s never been able to handle it. It turns him into a pitiful mess, every time.

Bucky

Bucky just chuckles, knowing the effect he has on him. He’s Dominant. Winding Steve around his little finger comes naturally to him, and Steve can’t say he doesn’t like it. “You were making pretty sounds in your sleep,” Bucky says, murmuring the words in between kisses on Steve’s neck. “Moaning and moving your hips a little.” He demonstrates, pushing his own hips up against Steve’s ass. Steve makes an embarrassed, whimpery sort of noise that goes straight to Bucky’s cock, and he shushes him. “Shh, no. It was hot, Stevie. You were feeling real good in your sleep, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

“What were you dreaming about?” Bucky presses his thigh forward, between Steve’s legs, crowding him that much closer. “Hm?”

“Her,” Steve says breathily. “I … h-her.”

“Mary?” Bucky grins against the skin of his neck. “Having dirty dreams about our girl, huh?”

Steve moans—whether at Bucky calling her ‘their girl’, or at the way his other hand is now reaching down to cup Steve’s sac, isn’t clear. Bucky gives a gentle squeeze and tug, then rolls the weight of his testicles in his palm. Steve, who’s always been keen on having his balls played with, moans louder and nods against the pillow. “Didn’t mean to,” he says, as if he needs to defend his character.

Bucky grins like a shark and nips his earlobe. “Course not. You just couldn’t help it, could you? She’s always there, moaning around bites of cream filled pastries, showing off her ass in those leggings—”

Steve groans.

“—Giving us attitude every day like she wants a spanking, but dropping so sweet by the end’a the night.” He can see pink spreading around to the back of Steve’s neck and shoulders now. His Stevie colors so easily. Bucky licks delicately along the shell of his ear and whispers, “Tell me. Tell me what you did to her in the dream.” Steve moans and doesn’t answer for a long while, maybe too distracted by Bucky’s hand that’s still stroking him slowly. Bucky stills, opens his hand and presses Steve’s cock up against his stomach. “Steve,” he warns. “Tell me.”

“... Wasn’t me,” Steve mumbles, embarrassed. “It was you. You were touching her, fucking her.”

Bucky’s guts tighten in arousal. “Oh?” he breathes. “You like thinkin’ about that? Like thinking about me laying her out? Her spreading her legs for me right here on this bed?” Steve groans and nods, whining impatiently and humping forward for more. Bucky chuckles and takes him in hand again, squeezing his shaft and fondling his balls. They’re tighter now, drawn up closer to his body as he gets more worked up. “So?” Bucky needles, when he still hasn’t gotten an answer. “Is that what you want?”

“Bucky, nngh, Yes, alright?”

“Mmhm.” He chuckles softly and nuzzles Steve’s neck, enjoying his husband’s flustered state. “But you know, I think I’d like to watch you.” He can just picture it: Steve’s muscled, strong body moving over her soft curves, his big hands holding her open gently—because everything Steve does is gentle—while he makes her cum on his cock. “Yeah. You like that idea, Big guy? Me too. I wanna watch this big fat dick—” he squeezes his fist on Steve— “plowing her sloppy, making her cum so good she even cries a little bit.” Steve whines again, and Bucky hums in agreement. “Mmhm. It’d be so hot, Stevie.”

Steve squirms against him in distress. “I, I’ve never … With girls I mean. I’m not … I’ve never …” he peters off, and Bucky’s got no idea what he’s saying.

“What?” He frowns and ruts his erection against the cleft of Steve’s ass for a little relief. “What’re you talking about, Baby? You’ve been with women before. College?”

Steve shakes his head against the pillow. “No, I mean I … I don’t know what to do. To make ‘em feel good. I’m … not good at it.”

Bucky actually stops what he’s doing. Steve grunts at the lack of touch, but Bucky just hushes him and pulls on his shoulder, urging him to turn over. “Hey. C’mere. Look at me.” Steve’s face is indeed colored pink when he turns to lie facing Bucky. His eyes flick up briefly, but dart away again, shy. Bucky’s heart squeezes. “Oh, Honey,” he says, bringing a hand up to cup Steve’s jaw. “Who told you that?” He thinks of murdering whatever coed bitch might’ve made Steve feel self-conscious.

Steve looks mortified. “Nobody did. Just … I could tell. The times I was with ‘em. I couldn’t make them, you know, cum.” He looks so ashamed as he admits it, and Bucky wants to grab him and kiss all over his entire face.

“Aw, Steve,” he coos. “Is that it? You’re nervous about being with a woman again? Not confident?”

Steve nods. He tucks himself against Bucky’s body and presses his face in his neck, hiding there. “Women are hard,” he mumbles. “I like ‘em, but it’s not easy.”

Bucky chuckles a little. “Yeah, that’s for sure. But it’s not that bad, baby. You just gotta know a few basics. Gotta take it real slow and feel them out, find out what makes her feel good. Every girl’s different. That’s the beauty in it.”

Steve grunts and ruts up against him, their cocks knocking together between their bellies. “Tell me?” he asks, eager and sweet. “Please, Buck? Tell me how.”

Bucky feels like half the blood leaves his brain, his dick throbbing anew. “Fuck,” he breathes, crazy turned on at the idea. “You want me to teach you, Stevie? Teach you how to get her crying? Dripping wet? How to touch her so good you make her cum?”

Steve shivers and nods, grinding his forehead into Bucky’s shoulder in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah I want you to. Want you to teach me.”

Bucky pulls Steve’s head up to make him look at him. His face is pinched—embarrassed but wanting. Bucky curses. “Fuck. Yeah, yeah baby I’ll teach you how. C’mere.” He moves up the bed, pulling Steve’s meaty shoulders to get him to follow, directing him to sit in his lap, back to chest as Bucky props them up against the headboard. He spreads his legs wide to accommodate Steve’s bulk, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “My little overachiever,” he murmurs. “Such a Boy Scout, always wanting to be the best you can be.”

Steve huffs. “Don’t think they gave out merits for eating pussy,” he quips, uncharacteristically lewd.

Bucky barks out a laugh in delight. “Well pay attention, Sweetheart. You’re about to earn that badge.” Steve shudders against him, but he’s leaning back against Bucky, slumped just a little lower in his lap. He’s ready to listen, and Bucky’s fucking hot at the chance to tell. “First thing you gotta know,” he says, speaking delicately and smoothing his hands over Steve’s sides. “Is forget what you’ve seen in porn. They make that shit for us, not them. It’s all fake. No better way to make a girl miserable than to go pounding into her or whatever else.”

Steve makes a questioning noise, and God bless him, Bucky knows instantly that this is news to the big dummy. “But …” he hedges.

“No buts, Honey.” Bucky kisses his ear. “You gotta be so gentle. Always start soft, always go slow. Start that way and pay attention to her reactions.” He skims his fingertips up Steve’s ribs, tickling lightly over to his pecs and back down, making him gasp. “Yeah,” Bucky hums, “Just like that. She might be quiet at first, girls don’t moan all loud right off the bat. They don’t get worked up as fast as we do. They take time.”

Steve nods, panting a little as he listens to him. “W-what then?” he asks.

“Listen to her breathing, the sounds she makes. She’ll start breathing heavier when you’ve got her feeling good, start making little sounds without even realizing she’s doin’ it.” Steve looses a tiny whimper and Bucky grins. “Yeah, just like that.” He reaches down and finds Steve’s cock again, and god it’s sexy how wet his fella can get. He strokes him a few times, just languidly, letting the precum guide the slide of his fist. Not hurrying. Showing Steve what he means when he says ‘slow’.

“Oh,” Steve breathes, sounding gone for it.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “And then when she starts moving her hips?” He presses his crotch into the small of Steve’s back. “Just rubbing herself against you or humping up in the air a little? Oh yeah, that’s when she’s into it.” He brings one hand up to cradle Steve’s pec. “Girls are more sensitive here than we are,” he tells him. He’s looking over Steve’s shoulder now, eyeing up what he’s doing. He flicks his thumb over the nipple—so freaking small and petal pink where Bucky’s are darker. And he’s so responsive, the nipple pebbling up with hardly any effort on Bucky’s part. “Mmhm,” Bucky hums approvingly. “You want to try different things. You can just hold ‘em …” he uses both hands and cups the meat of Steve’s chest, giving a proprietary squeeze. Steve moans and Bucky smiles. “Yeah. But not too hard. Treat her tits like they’re something delicate, somethin’ special.” He makes the motion to Steve’s pecs like he would do to lightly bounce a woman’s breasts in his palms. “And Mary, she’s got smaller tits. A nice, healthy handful, just like you.”

Steve whines and squirms impatiently in his lap. Bucky glances down to check, and sees Steve’s cock; abandoned on his stomach, dark, and leaking. It’s so heavy and thick, the foreskin drawn halfway down the head, showcasing the shiny pink tip of him. Bucky curses softly. Fuck, but he wants to wring an orgasm out of that cock like ten minutes ago. But he forces himself to stay the course.

“When you use your mouth on her nipples,” he whispers, voice soft like velvet in Steve’s ear, “You can lick. Or nibble a little.” He mimics each option with a stroke and then a pinch of his fingers on Steve’s nipples, flicking out with his tongue to get the shell of Steve’s ear. “But I’ll tell you what: most of ‘em like it best when you suck.” He uses all five fingertips drawn together to pull gently at the peaks of Steve’s chest, and Steve makes a hurt, wanting sound. “Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “Suck her nipples. Then fit as much of her in your mouth as you can and suck that too.” He takes pity on Steve and reaches back down for his cock. Steve cries out, and Bucky gentles him. “Shh sh sh. Remember: slow.”

Steve groans, his tight hips flexing and pushing his cock up into the curl of Bucky’s fist. “Buck, please.”

“It’s not about you,” Bucky chides. “You’re a man. You get to cum so easy and all the time. You gotta help her get there, give her what she deserves.”

Steve sobs a little, so worked up from all the teasing, but he falls back into Bucky, relaxing against his chest and laying himself open for Bucky to continue. Pride and adoration for his man well up in Bucky at the show of submission. “Good,” he praises, giving an extra indulgent twist on the next upstroke. Steve’s foreskin moves with the motions, making soft, wet noises with all the precum he’s leaking. Bucky hums appreciatively. “Yeah, lookit that.” He draws his hand all the way up, tight, and then dips his thumb into the folds, rubbing into that wetness, against the sensitive head. “If you’re doing it right, touching her enough, she’ll be wet by now,” he says. “But you still shouldn’t go for her pussy yet. Not yet.”

“What … what else?” Steve asks muzzily, like he can’t think of anything else to do that doesn’t involve his dick getting jerked off or sticking it in a hypothetical pussy.

“Tease her,” Bucky says. “Run your hands all over her body, all over her soft skin.”

Steve sighs happily. “I like how soft they are. Smooth.”

Hearing Steve talk about what he likes about women makes Bucky’s dick throb, and he grinds it against Steve’s lower back for some relief. “Mmhm,” he agrees, moving his hands up and down the skin of Steve’s ribcage, his belly, grabbing on at his hips and giving a proprietary jostle. “Dig your fingers into her, gentle but insistent. Let her feel how much you love her body.”

“Now?” Steve asks.

“Not yet,” Bucky whispers.

“Fuck. Bucky.”

“Tease her,” he insists, ignoring Steve’s pleading. He slides his hands down Steve’s thighs and inwards, pulling them apart. Steve moans and spreads them wide. “Exactly,” Bucky says. “You want to touch her here. Run your hands all over, so close to where she wants it. Remember, if you’ve been doing this right, she’ll be wet by now.” He goes back and strokes the wetness along Steve’s shaft. “Sink down between her legs and kiss her thighs—you’ll smell it.”

“Oh my god.”

Bucky smiles, in love with his husband for how easily he comes apart under his care. He traces down to the base of Steve’s cock, making a vee with two fingers and rubbing the skin on either side. “Put pressure on her mound, really close but not touching where she wants it. Not yet.” His other hand slides down and delicately traces the seam of Steve’s sac. “Tease her, trace her folds. Get a little bit of that wetness and rub it around to make her even more sensitive. And then …” He blows gently on Steve’s ear. Steve moans. “Just like that. You want to wait. Don’t give her your mouth until she’s whining and shovin’ up at you for it.”

“Nngh,”

Bucky chuckles and circles the wet pad of his finger over one testicle and then the other. He nudges at Steve’s taut sac and whispers in his ear. “Push her lips apart.”

Steve is breathing hard through his nose, tense, his dick bobbing rock hard and angry in the air. Bucky has mercy on him and reaches for it, and Steve chokes out a sob of relief at only the slightest touch.

Bucky kisses his temple soothingly. “Shh. Here. Riiight here.” He holds the head between his thumb and fingers and starts jacking just the tip of him, foreskin tugging and gliding in that way that he knows feels amazing for Steve. “Right above her sweet spot, see? You rub on her like this, up and down, back and forth. Work the hood over her clit juuust like this.”

Steve makes a debased groan at the echo of what Bucky’s saying, and how he’s working Steve’s foreskin over the head of his dick. “Fuck, fuck,” he hisses.

“Yeah, you’re close. She’s soaked by now. You think it’s time to give her more?”

“Bucky. Yes, yes, please.” His hips are straining upwards but he lets his head loll back on Bucky’s shoulder, open for what he’ll do next. “Please,” he begs.

“Now this is important, baby, so pay attention,” Bucky says. “Some women like a mouth on ‘em down there, some don’t. Some do, but they have a hang up over how they think they look or taste or something.” Steve makes a sad noise at that, matching Bucky’s opinion that: yeah, women shouldn’t worry so much. Pussy is just generally fucking awesome. “Tell her how much you love it,” he says. “The taste of her, the shape of her lips. Make her feel pretty and wanted.” He’s fondling Steve’s balls anew as he says this, rubbing and rolling them, then cupping his whole palm over them and dipping behind to dig fingertips into his taint. “Come on, Stevie,” he goads, “Let me hear it. Tell me what you’d say.”

It takes Steve a few tries before he can pull enough of his brain out of his dick to rasp, “S’fucking gorgeous p-pussy. So … so wet. Can I lick it Honey, huh? Please lemme lick it. Wanna taste that sweet cunt.”

Bucky gasps, shocked and delighted at Steve’s dirty talk. “Oh, Stevie,” he groans. “Baby. Fuck, yes. I didn’t know you had it in you.” He wraps his hand fully around Steve’s cock and starts jerking him off fast, fast enough that it’s obvious he’s finally aiming to make Steve cum, and Steve chokes on a relieved heave of breath.

"Yes! Oh, thank you!”

Bucky attacks Steve’s neck with his mouth, biting and smearing spit and scraping his teeth over the wet skin. He growls as he watches his fist working furiously over Steve's red, hard dick. “Suck her clit while you fuck her on your fingers,” he rasps. “Tell her she’s a good girl, tell her to ride your face, grind down on your hand. Make sure she knows she’s allowed to let go.”

Steve cries out, guttural and loud like he always gets when his pleasure is cresting. “Bucky, Buck. Honey, oh. F-fuck, m’close.”

“Mmhm. Thaat’s it, Princess,” he says, pitching his voice just so and using that name so that Steve knows. Knows he’s talking to her.

Steve whines, his whole body tight and straining into Bucky’s grip.

“Curl your fucking fingers in her,” Bucky growls. “She’s close. Don’t slow down. Don’t even speed up. She likes what you’re doing now, so don’t you dare fucking change a thing.”

“Bucky!”

“That’s it, Princess, just like that. You’re almost there.”

“Fuck, fuck … ssshit …”

“Ride Daddy’s hand, fuck back on it. Good girl.”

Steve jerks and shouts, cock pulsing in telltale contractions, before searing ropes of come shoot up his stomach and all over Bucky’s hand. “Oh, oh, oh!” He grunts through it with gorgeous sounds, and Bucky’s so in love with the sight of it that he’s not roleplaying anymore when he purrs, “Fucking beautiful, Sweetheart.”

Steve slumps when it’s over, still panting from the pleasure. Bucky eases off, sets his wet and slowly softening dick gently against his stomach. He moves them, guiding Steve to turn over and lie out on his front. He shoves Steve’s legs together and straddles them, swipes his hand that’s covered in Steve’s release into the tight space between his thighs, wetting him up. He growls viciously, pent up and rock hard and ready to fucking cum. He ruts into the wet clench of Steve’s thick thighs, fucking him like he’s got a loose, easy cunt. “Fuck, baby,” he grits, close within a matter of minutes. He chases his orgasm and collapses onto Steve’s broad back when it hits, grinding in hard one last time and shouting loud and guttural with how goddamn good it feels. “Fuck! Ughn, f-ffuuck.”

He comes down heaving, panting against Steve’s skin. Steve is strong enough that he can roll out from under his weight, and he pulls Bucky into his arms and draws his head onto his chest. Bucky goes gratefully, happy to have Steve’s firm pecs as a pillow. “God, honey,” he breathes, wrung out. Steve makes a noise of agreement. They just lie there together, sweaty and spent, catching their breath for a long time.

“... Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“… You’re a good teacher.”

Bucky laughs and crawls up to kiss Steve on the mouth. “Yeah,” he says when they part. “But that wasn’t even the main event.” Steve looks confused for a second, before Bucky slyly clarifies: “You still gotta fuck her. And you know you want to make her cum at least twice.”

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princessbubblenumbsblog · 1 year

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Stucky Comic Snippet Pt 1

Whew, finally done! Time to continue working on the sequence 😈 If you like it please consider following me!

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simmerandwrite · 1 year

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Lower the Stakes [05] - Enter Alpine

Summary: Bucky Barnes still isn’t sure of his place in the world. For Haley Fisher, making new friends has always felt like a challenge. Though getting a second chance at life gave her the opportunity to reinvent herself and determine where she fit into the world again. It’s time to shift the expectations and determine what she really wants. How does that old classic go? ‘I get by with a little help from my friends.’

(Aka the post Falcon and the Winter soldier friends-to-lovers mini series no one asked for, featuring one ‘grumpy but warming up’ centenarian and one ‘coming into her own’ plus sized original character!) Ready the pre-story here

Chapter summary: Bucky adopts a cat, Haley pretends she doesn't have the flu. Everything is fine. (:

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size original character

Word count: 5k

Parts: Part 01 Part 02 Part 03 Part 04 Part 05 Part 06 Part 07

Notes/warnings: brief mentions of body shaming Haven’t updated this one since August and I’m sorry! It’s a bit of a backburner project but I’m happy to have you here This chapter is mostly told from Bucky’s POV. if you see me out interacting in the wild, it’ll be under @simmerandcry

---

Bucky didn’t consider himself an impulsive person. Not now, at least. Perhaps before, a long time ago, he might have been a lot less careful when it came to his decision making. But after years of strict rule following in the army, and even more torturous reprimands for breaking any rules while being brainwashed into The Winter Soldier, being cautious of every move he made became a nasty habit.

A habit he was trying to break, in some ways.

Like not thinking through every single thing he did and the ripple effect it might have on his future actions. He wanted to start considering immediate gratifications and long term impacts of things, too. But he didn’t want to always take a long time to get there.

Enter Alpine.

All it took was one glance at the stray kitten - who someone at the airstrip had found hiding out in one of the storage sheds - and Bucky knew he couldn’t leave her behind. And although Sam had protested the whole idea as they got onto the plane, the minute the small animal curled up into the crook of his arm, Bucky was set on his own decision.

Now here Bucky and Sam were - back in Bucky’s apartment in New York, getting it ready for life with a cat. Bucky had been a bit heavy handed once they got to the pet store but when he saw the little white furball traipsing through his living room, bounding up her the new cat tree they had built, he felt settled by the entire thing.

And much to Bucky’s surprise, Sam has been more than helpful. Sure, he teased Bucky throughout the whole process but Sam had taken a lot of the anxiety off Bucky when it came to his decision making. Sam had even come back to the city with him before heading home to New Orleans, choosing to spend the night on Bucky’s couch.

While Sam took to the shower, Bucky was sitting cross legged on the floor of his living room, tossing a few balls and toys towards his new companion. When a knock at the door sounded out, a frown grew on his face as the cat ran underneath his couch.

Reluctantly, Bucky stood and slowly headed towards his door. When he opened it and saw Haley standing there, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey,” she started quickly with a little wave. “I sent you a message but I wasn’t sure if you were home. Figured I might just knock and see, since I was in the neighbourhood. I guess I could have called..”

“I just got back this afternoon,” Bucky answered as he ushered her in. “And I never check my voicemails anyway. You alright?”

“Oh yeah. Actually a friend of mine - her cousin is playing a little show at this bar a few blocks from here so I wanted to see if you wanted to come and..” Haley cut herself off and glanced around his living room and kitchen. “Did you get a cat?”

Bucky grinned, eyebrow raised as he glanced around. “What tipped you off?” Stepping forward a few feet, he made a small cooing noise to try and get his new roommate out of hiding. “There she is - Haley, meet Alpine.”

Haley was quick to crouch down, extending her hand out as Alpine approached. “She’s so beautiful.”

As she acquainted herself with the cat, Bucky motioned a hand across the apartment. “And while you’re here...” Bucky had heard the shower turn off before Haley came in. And by the pace of his footsteps.. “I guess I should introduce you to Sam, too.”

Haley turned her head to look towards the small hallway across the apartment, mouth dropping into a small surprised face when she saw Sam enter the room. She rushed to stand up again, “Wow, Captain America in the flesh. Honestly, I sort of assumed Bucky was just making up all his stories about you.”

Sam grinned, eyes rolling as he made his way into the living room. “And you must be Haley. I could say the same thing.”

Haley smiled back at Bucky. “Two real examples of non-imaginary friends.”

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Bucky narrowed his eyes and glanced between them both. He would be lying if he hadn’t tried to calculate what this moment might look like - although he had hoped it would have been in a more controlled environment.

What was Bucky so worried about? Sam, down to his core, exuded both confidence and kindness, and paired with extensive PR training and his years of time with Veterans’ Affairs, he could keep a conversation with anyone. Haley, on the other hand, certainly came across a lot more introverted. She came across a lot more reserved, just like Bucky himself, and it had taken a while for them both to let their guards down.

Bucky hoped that introducing his friends wouldn’t impact the progress they had made so far.

And it only took minutes for Sam and Haley to sort themselves out enough to dive into a conversation. The most unsurprising thing, even, was that Bucky ended up as the outside person in the room. He kept his attention on Alpine, who had become very acquainted with Haley’s lap as she sat on the floor.

It was unimaginably cute to see Alpine’s soft little body curled up against Haley.

“So, what do you think, Buck?” Sam’s question pulled Bucky’s gaze away from Haley’s legs. Bucky had dropped down onto the couch across from them and he narrowed his eyes, unable to figure out what Sam was asking him.

“My friend at work, Dani, her cousin plays guitar in a Fleetwood Mac cover band,” Haley jumped in, noticing Bucky’s confusion immediately. “It’s a little bar, I’m sure it’ll be a small crowd.”

Sam motioned to the sleeping cat. “I’m sure she’ll be okay for a few hours to sleep and explore this place.”

Bucky hesitated. He supposed Sam was right - cats were independent creatures and Alpine likely could use a bit of time to herself to get used to his apartment. “I don’t know that band.”

Sam scoffed, eyes rolling as he stood up. “Of course you don’t.”

Haley offered Bucky a playful smile. “You’re going to love Fleetwood Mac.”

---

Bucky already felt like a terrible cat parent. When he first adopted Alpine, he had every intention for her to be his adventure cat, his partner in crime - wanting to bring her out on trips anytime the opportunity presented itself. But now, after only a month, he was already hitting a snag.

Sam had invited him visit and strategize in Delacroix and Bucky knew he always had a bed at the Wilson homestead. But AJ had a bad cat allergy and Sarah had to put a hard ‘no’ on Bucky bringing Alpine until they could get him on some regular medication.

And now Bucky was once again grateful for Haley. He owed her a lot for deciding to take Apine in for the week Bucky was gone.

“Listen, I appreciate any opportunity where I can work from home a few more days during the week. I mean I have to go into the office Wednesday and Friday for a bit but hopefully by then she’ll be okay on her own.. And maybe it’ll inspire me to adopt a cat, too.”

Bucky sure hoped his continuous chorus of thank yous, plus giving Haley a giftcard for her favourite coffee shop, would express his sentiment enough.

The day he was leaving for Louisiana, he packed up everything Alpine would need for her stay at Haley’s and made his way to her apartment. He felt silly, at first, travelling with Alpine in a special carrier backpack but her happy mewls really solidified he had made the right investment.

Haley welcomed them both in with a smile, excitedly explaining how she had temporarily adapted her apartment for Alpine’s stay.

“I made that little corner area totally open for her box, I read that cats can be strangely territorial when in a new place so hopefully this works for her,” Haley said after shutting the door behind them, crouching down to join Bucky as he carefully put down his supplies and shrugged off the carrier. “I cleaned under my bed and in my closet too, in case she hides away. One website said..”

Bucky turned his head and caught Haley’s gaze. “You did some research about this?”

“I just don’t want you to worry, I guess.” Haley shrugged, failing to hide her embarrassment.

Bucky immediately felt guilty about making her feel bad about any of it. “No, no. I really.. I appreciate it a lot, Hales. I’m sure she’ll do great here with you”

They both stilled as Alpine let out a quiet meow, cautiously making her way out of the carrier and sniffing the rug she had been placed down on. Bucky shifted forward, extending his hand out to give her a comforting scratch behind the ears but the quick movement was already too much - and Alpine was off, quickly scurrying away and finding a place to hide underneath Haley’s coffee table.

Bucky sighed.

“Hey,” Haley sat back on her knees and squeezed his shoulder. “Try not to worry, okay? I promise she’s in good hands.”

---

“Hey! Sorry, I meant you could call me anytime - it didn’t have to be – are you outside?”

“I just finished a run. Is it a bad time?”

“No, no. Looks nice there!”

“A lot of fresh air and trees. Sam says it’s good for the soul.”

“He’s right. Anyway - here, let me turn my video around. Look! Your daughter’s new favourite place to nap - above my kitchen cabinets.”

“Alpine, you daredevil.”

“I am a tiny bit concerned she’ll try to leap up on the bookcase next.”

“Good thing we anchored those to the walls.”

“She’s been an angel otherwise, minus her late night running. How has your week been though? Relaxing, I hope..”

---

Haley (8:05PM): bad news Haley (8:05PM): your daughter may be a future arsonist Bucky (8:09PM): ??? Haley (8:11PM): all I wanted was a nice calm relaxing bath but apparently candles are not kitten proof Haley (8:11PM): I promise she still has all her whiskers Haley (8:15PM): [IMG_3399]

Bucky’s eyes blew wide open as he loaded the photo Haley had sent him. They had been in touch all week as she provided updates about Alpine, which were mostly positive outside of a plant that didn’t survive a fall from Haley’s window ledge.

And Bucky would be lying if he didn’t admit to how much he enjoyed the little updates and check-ins about how his trip was going. He had even sent Haley a selfie of his own, plus a picture of Sam laying on the ground, flipping off Bucky’s camera, after some training had gone awry.

This photo though, of Alpine sitting on the outside of Haley’s bathtub, felt a bit different. Sure, the main focus of the camera was definitely not supposed to be the exposed parts of Haley’s legs in the water, surrounded by soft bubbles and the light coming from candles sitting precariously on the outside ledge. Bucky was supposed to be looking at his little trouble maker of a cat, who was in the middle of extending a paw to swipe the flickering flame from one of the candles.

Yes, he was definitely looking at Alpine and not immediately thinking about Haley’s legs.

“Sarah?” Bucky finally glanced up from his phone, pushing his tongue across his lips as he searched for a second opinion. “I’ve got a real world question for you. About dating and, uh, women.”

One of Bucky’s favourite parts of their evenings in Delacroix was after dinner, when he and Sarah and sometimes Sam, took to the porch. Sometimes they’d chat, other times they’d read in silence together. This time was the latter.

Bucky looked over from his chair and caught Sarah’s curious eyebrow raise as she put her book down. Bucky was grateful Sam was inside watching a movie with his nephews at that moment.

“Oh, I love these.” Sarah moved slightly in her own seat on the porch swing, adjusting the blanket and folding her hands in her lap. “Go ahead.”

Bucky rubbed his jaw, glanced at his phone one more time then brought his attention back to Sarah. “It’s Haley related.”

Sarah nodded, doing her best to remain neutral although they had talked about Bucky’s friend before. “Sure, Haley - your friend with whom your friendship is completely platonic. Right.”

“She just sent me a photo of Alpine but she was in it too, in her bathtub.”

“In her bathtub?” Sarah repeated, making sure she heard that properly. “Like, in a bath. Naked.”

“Yeah.” When Sarah’s eyebrows went up, Bucky backtracked. “No, not like that. It was just her legs. But does that mean something?”

Sarah let out a long breath, tipping her head from side to side as she thought. “Well, I’m not much for sending photos to any man. Because ya’ll never deserve it. But, I don’t know. Is your conversation ever flirty?”

“I have no idea,” Bucky rolled his eyes, reaching for his phone and scrolling through his conversation with Haley. It was always friendly, if a little sparse on his side of things. Although he would admit that the last week since he’d been gone, they’d talked a lot more. And sometimes late at night. But what made a conversation flirty? The time it occurred? The tone?

“Listen, I don’t know Haley. But she could have probably sent that photo without her legs.. That’s all I’m saying. Maybe she’s testing the waters, to see how you’ll react.”

“And how am I supposed to react?”

“You tell me,” Sarah tipped her head to the side and studied him for another moment. “Are you interested in her that way? Do you have feelings for her?”

He tossed his phone onto the small table beside him and sighed. “I.. I don’t know.” Rediscovering his emotions had been a huge learning curve and it was still an ongoing struggle. Every single part of his being had been suppressed without his consent for decades and even now sometimes Bucky couldn’t tell the difference between what frustration felt like and what rage felt like. His spectrum was nearly impossible to understand on his best days and when he let himself even consider some of his feelings, it was an easy spiral into a lot of very dark thoughts. “I really don’t know.”

“If you were any other person in the world, I wouldn’t believe that for a second.” Sarah reached her hand across to grab one of his, giving him a gentle squeeze. “But I can’t imagine these things are fun to sort through for you. Maybe you just need to sit with it.”

“Haley is..” Bucky shook his head, indulging in the comforting touch from Sarah. “She’s one of my closest friends. That’s, uhm, important to me. Really important.”

Sarah let out a quiet laugh and nodded, squeezing his hand once more before releasing it. “Joel.. my Joel, we were friends first. For a long time before we figured it out. Sit with it, Bucky.”

---

Bucky was trying to ignore the pang of disappointment in his stomach when he headed to Haley’s. Given that she hadn’t responded to any of his messages, he assumed she wasn’t home and he’d be letting himself in to retrieve Alpine.

It was strange - when he left for New Orleans, he hadn’t anticipated so much time to reflect. Despite Sam telling him it was supposed to be a vacation, Bucky hadn’t been prepared for free time with all his thoughts. But now, coming back to the city, he felt he had a changed perspective. His late night discussions with Sarah had been both beneficial and a bit of a hindrance, too.

He was really looking forward to catching up with Haley, though - that he knew for sure.

Using the key she had given him, Bucky let himself into her apartment building and headed upstairs. He checked his phone once more and sent her a quick message that he was letting himself in. He followed up with an additional ‘thank you’ text as he twisted the key into her apartment door.

A strange comfort came over him as he walked into Haley’s home. It felt so familiar in a way and he vowed to let himself unpack just what that meant. As the door shut behind him, he peered around the living room, searching for his cat.

Bucky let out a low whistle. “Alpine?”

His eyes darted around the room - he had assumed Haley was at work, but seeing her laptop closed on the kitchen island and a leftover cup of tea on the counter, sitting beside her phone, clearly he had assumed incorrectly.

When he spotted Alpine mewling outside the bathroom door, his feeling of comfort quickly switched to something more awkward. Maybe he shouldn’t have just walked in without confirming she was home, especially if she was going to come out of the bathroom and just see him and -

He stopped his train of thoughts. There was no light on in the bathroom. And was that whimpering? It sounded… painful.

“Haley?” He took a step closer towards the door, taking in a sharp breath as he peered inside. “Jesus - Haley!”

He tried not to think the worst and prayed he wasn’t overstepping when it came to her privacy as he rushed towards her. Inside the bathroom, under the broken stream of sunlight coming in from the rest of the apartment, he found Haley curled up on the ground in a pair of leggings and a big sweatshirt. Halfway between her toilet and bathtub, she had a towel folded up under her head and half of a blanket draped over her body. The other part of her comforter was resting inside the bathtub.

“Hales - what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Bucky crouched down, politely encouraging Alpine to stay outside the doorway. As was a given for most New York apartments, the bathroom was cramped. He extended out his hand and placed it gently on Haley’s shin.

“My whole body hurts..” Her voice was barely audible. “I think maybe… there’s this flu going around the office and..”

He sucked in a breath. “Shit. Okay. Are you throwing up? Is that why you’ve made a bed on the floor here?”

Haley just shrugged in response, eyes closed tight. “I did, once. Tried to wash my comforter, sort of just stayed here..”

Bucky took a very brief moment to pause, dragging his hand across his jaw before taking action. When he considered his scrambled memories of the past, suddenly something came forward that hadn’t crossed his mind in years.

Steve, his Steve. Curled up in bed, with faulty lungs and an immune system working against him. The same sting took over in his heart as he watched Haley, suffering alone and if he could place a bet, any moment she was going to dismiss him again and -

“Bucky, I’m fine.” He watched as she slowly pushed herself up to sit, leaning her back against the side of her bathtub. “I think I just need to ride this out..”

“Haley,” Bucky shuffled forward, just barely, scanning over her drooping eyelids. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand to press against her forehead. Shit. “You’re burning hot.”

Way too hot.

“I’ll be fine,” she repeated quietly, bringing her hand up to reach for her throat. “Feels sort of like..a knife..”

Okay, Bucky needed to act much more quickly now. “C’mon, maybe we need to go to urgent care or-”

“No, no.” She shook her head, pushing Bucky’s hands away. “I don’t need that.”

“Haley, if your fever is-”

“My deductible is huge. And urgent care is for emergencies.. I’m fine.” Her head lolled to the side and Bucky didn’t hide his baffled laughter.

He sat back on his knees. “How long have you had a fever?”

“Since this morningish.” She shrugged but raised a hand gingerly, motioning to her bathroom counter. “I think it’s getting better..”

Reluctantly Bucky took his eyes off her and sat up enough to see what she was pointing at. On top of her sink sat a scrap of paper, alongside a pen and thermometer. Of course Haley had been diligently tracking her own fever. He sighed, scanning over the numbers she had written down hourly. She never got to a critical temperature but that didn’t make him feel any better about her current state.

“Have you taken anything?” Bucky continued as he rinsed off her thermometer, turning to her again and waiting while she answered.

“Tylenol, a few hours ago. Don’t have any left..”

Bucky nodded then proceeded to urge the thermometer under her tongue, despite her ongoing dismissals that she was okay and he didn’t need to stay.

He took in another long breath as it beeped, displaying a number that wasn’t any higher than she had written down earlier. He extended his left hand out and brushed it across her forehead, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly as she let out a relieved whimper at the cool touch.

“Bucky..” Haley closed her eyes and took a deep breath, or tried to. “You don’t have to do this, okay? I’ll be okay by tomorrow.”

He tried to stop his annoyed huff from escaping but Bucky felt his patience dwindling. “Why are you pushing me away? I’m trying to help.”

She squeaked out a laugh. “I called Alex and he sent me to voicemail. And god, when I called my mom - she told me..”

“Hales, look at me.”

Haley opened one of her eyes, swallowing hard. “Okay..”

“You’ve gotta let me take care of you. Please. I’m on my knees here, begging. I want to help.”

---

Haley felt it coming on all week. The fatigue had crept up slowly, the growing aches throughout her body much quicker. And by that Friday morning, it was as if she had been hit by a freight train.

After her early morning team meeting, her teammate Lindsay had messaged her and immediately told her to log off because Haley ‘looked like shit’. Which, although a bit too aggressive for Haley’s liking, did help her turn her computer off quickly. And then she mostly just slept, hot then cold, cold, cold. She tried to sip on tea but it had been difficult to finish, with her sleepy eyes and sore throat.

Alpine, cute as a button, had stayed by her side the whole time. Haley had appreciated having the feline as company all week and giving Bucky updates had been fun and almost flirty at times, too. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure what to do about that and her growing, conflicting feelings so she kept them at bay as much as possible.

She had been fully planning on being at work in the office when Bucky came to collect his fluffy white child, too. Instead, though, she was struggling to stay awake and upright and couldn’t even imagine Bucky seeing her in that state.

And then, well, he went ahead and showed up at her apartment. She couldn’t fault him, of course. He had returned from his New Orleans trip and had every right to come collect his cat, especially because he assumed Haley was going to be at work. She just wished he hadn’t showed up after she had decided to make basecamp in her bathroom while trying to clean up her comforter.

But when Bucky offered to take care of her, Haley thought she’d be overwhelmed with shame and embarrassment. Instead though, a rush of good feelings washed over her instead. Safety, comfort, protection.

Before she could even keep trying to protest, Bucky had helped her up off the floor and immediately ushered her back to bed. He pulled the soft blankets off her couch and tucked her beneath them, with a cold cloth resting against her forehead.

“I’m going to run to the pharmacy, okay? I’ll be right back.” Bucky left her phone on the side table, urging her to call him if she needed anything. Alpine curled up against Haley’s legs.

“Keep an eye on her, okay Al?”

Haley dozed off quickly after he departed and it seemed like barely a moment had passed before he was back in her bedroom, stirring her awake with a sea of apologies. He had returned to her with an overflowing bag of supplies, rattling on quietly about all the things the pharmacist had recommended.

After she swallowed down a few pills and shed a few additional tears choking on a disgusting syrupy formula, Bucky left her to sleep once more, not before replacing her cloth with a refreshing cold compress.

“Just rest, Hales. You’ll feel better soon, I promise..”

Thankfully, whatever combination Bucky had administered to her had knocked Haley out - and it seemed like her body really needed it. When she finally woke up again, her head did not feel as heavy and swallowing already felt like a much more normal task. As she sat up in bed, she glanced around the room. It was dark - her curtains were still open and the city lights were spilling in. Across the room, the French doors separating her bedroom from the rest of her apartment were cracked open. Her living room lamps were glowing and she could hear some quiet footsteps coming towards her.

Bucky appeared at the door, pushing one side open gently. “Hey - you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Haley nodded, barely. “You.. you stayed.”

“Of course I stayed.” In a few strides he came in and took a cautious seat at the end of her bed. There was a kitchen towel resting on his shoulder. It made Haley’s chest swirl.

“I’m feeling better, I think.” She shrugged, desperately trying to dismiss the rush of domestic thoughts coming to her mind. “I think I have like ten percent of my energy back.”

A slow relieved sigh escaped Bucky’s lips. “I’m happy to hear that. Apparently this flu has been going around and really doing numbers on people, says the pharmacist I talked to earlier at least. They said by around 48 hours you should be –”

“Wait, Bucky. I’m probably contagious - are you okay with that? I might have immediately passed along my germs and..”

“I was cursed with a very good immune system,” he said simply, resting his hand on her leg. “Don’t worry about me.”

Her lips curled into a small smile. “I think I want to try and have a shower.”

Bucky waited and made sure she could get herself out of bed without collapsing then let her continue on her own, though he did awkwardly offer his assistance if she might need it. Haley tried to ignore whatever that might mean, instead just indulging in the warm water and letting the stream drown out the rest of her thoughts.

God, what a week it had been. She wasn’t entirely sure what had flipped the switch in her but it seemed that all of a sudden, Bucky’s presence in her life was causing her heart to stir. If she had to pinpoint the catalyst, she could blame it on Dani, her closest friend from work. Ever since Haley had brought Sam and Bucky out to the bar weeks ago, Dani had been in her ear about Haley’s friendship with Bucky. And when Dani found out they technically met on a weird non-date at the bar, she had even more questions that Haley couldn’t answer.

Bucky was her best friend, was all Haley could insist. And she tried so hard to leave it at that.

Then, well, this whole flu thing had happened and it was mucking everything up. Haley wasn’t mad Bucky was taking care of her - in fact, she was grateful. But it wasn’t making anything clearer for her.

When she got out of the shower and had changed into a fresh pair of pajamas, Haley finally emerged from the bathroom and found Bucky working in her kitchen. He was standing at the stove, singing something quietly to himself as he stirred a pot of - was that soup?

“Sarah sent me her healing chicken soup recipe - apparently it’s a cure for most ailments,” Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t mask his smirk. “If you think you could eat something.”

“I could try,” Haley nodded, sliding into one of the stools at her small island. She sipped the warm broth mostly, indulging in the fresh ginger taste and feeling almost excited that her appetite was slowly returning.

Bucky leaned forward across from her, studying her before pressing a palm against her forehead. “I think maybe your fever broke.”

Haley smirked. “See? I told you I’d be okay.”

“Yeah, yeah. Finish your soup, Fisher.”

---

After they ate, Bucky suggested watching a movie but Haley argued she wouldn’t be able to focus. She still felt tired but was fighting it off. Instead, they just set up camp on the couch.

Alpine perched at the window between the bookcases, watching the world below. Bucky retrieved Haley’s now clean comforter from the dryer down the hall and returned the other blankets to the couch, then dropped onto it.

It happened so organically - the way Haley grabbed the closest pillow from the couch and placed it against Bucky’s hip, laying down and resting her head in his lap as she pulled a blanket over her body. Bucky didn’t question it. And when he adjusted his arm, reaching out to rest it against her side then moving up to run his fingers through her hair, there was no protest from Haley.

Haley relaxed. Bucky settled.

They sat together, quiet. Eventually, Bucky picked up the book he had been reading and used one hand to prop it open and flip through the pages while Haley rested.

When her breathing picked up and he heard a quiet sniffle, Bucky stilled. “Hales?”

“I called my mom earlier. Because when you’re sick, you just want someone to help, right? I figured my mom would.. I know she doesn’t live here but god forbid she tries and offers me comfort. Do you know what she told me?” Haley choked out a laugh, pressing herself further against Bucky. “She said to look on the bright side, because the last time she had a stomach bug she lost eight and a half pounds.”

Bucky’s hand clamped around the book as he took in a sharp breath. “Haley, I’ve gotta say it - your mom sounds really unpleasant.”

Haley reached her arm up and clutched onto Bucky’s leg. “Yeah, that’s a fair descriptor. Her idea of what makes someone valuable though.. I don’t know, it’s pretty broken. I know she loves me but sometimes it feels like she’d like me more if I was.. less.”

Bucky moved his hand from the crown of Haley’s head to rub her back. “You don’t deserve that.” The longer it took Haley to reply, the more anxious Bucky grew. And then, he felt her let out a long breath.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

Bucky let his hand draw circles and shapes against Haley’s back until she fell asleep on him, although he worried she’d wake up with a kink in her neck. Selfishly, he didn’t want to encourage her back to bed - because he liked the warmth of her presence, of her body at his side.

It was dangerous territory - the way an unexpected sense of intimacy had taken over their moment. But Bucky was putting into practice what Sarah had suggested, sitting with his feelings, trying to figure them out.

He had an answer now to Sarah’s big question. Did he have feelings for Haley? Yes. But what made it even worse is that he had no fucking clue what to do about it.

---

thank you again for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts if you enjoyed this chapter. up next: adventures in online dating, again.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x original character #bucky fanfiction #bucky x female oc #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfic #plus size character #story: lower the stakes

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cagedthewicked · 27 days

Text

Dinner and a movie

pairing: kristofferson x bucky (it is all i’m good for honestly)

warnings: mentions of sex/sexual themes overall (nothing happens, it’s just talked about), james being self conscious, angst but not really??

this originally had a different plan. somehow it took on a mind of its own and became this. i really do like this though regardless. i think it’s sweet in its own way :) i’m also still figuring out how formatting works, so sorry if it is a little wonky

(i finished writing this at like four am, and donot like editing this oneshots because i am lazy & wrote this whole thing on my phone. so i apologize for spelling errors and anything along those lines.)

“James, what is this—” Kristofferson started as James continued to guide him blindly down the pathway. The blindfolded over his eyes that James insisted he put on making him see nothing but darkness, and the occasional blocked out light. Having to rely on only his hearing and trusting that James wouldn’t walk him into a wall.

“We’re almost there. Stop complaining.” James cuts him off, his tone more playful than annoyed.

Normally, the playfulness in his words would make Kristofferson crack a thin smile and send his heart into a quick flutter, but it just makes him worried.

James has been off as of late. Something was going on with him that Kristofferson couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He assumed that they were doing well. They had no reason not to be.

They had fallen into the routine of James coming by every Sunday, and them sending the day together until early Saturday morning.

Nothing ever happened during those times. The most that did was on occasion James would stretch his arm over with a, clearly very fake, yawn to rest it on the back of James’ couch to be behind Kristofferson’s back. Kris would glance over at him confused, and James look back at him with a small cocky grin.

Lately though, James was becoming more bold in his approach.

Scooting in closer to Kris’ side of the couch, having outer thigh against outer thigh. Toying with the hem his shirt with his metal hand, sending a shiver down Kris’ spine when the cool metal brushed against his skin.

It was obvious he wanted something.

Kristofferson knew what he wanted.

He was being extremely obviously about it, but even if that wasn’t the case, he could still pick up on those things. He did before the whole, “James’ version of teasing but not really teasing because he won’t actually touch Kris”, thing started.

The most obvious time that stuck out in Kristofferson’s mind when he started to piece all the pieces together was when they were cuddling in James’ bed, watching ‘Fight Club’ because James hadn’t seen it.

Kristofferson barely shifted his hips, not even realizing that he had done it until James suddenly pulled away from him. Putting as much distance between the two of them that he could in the bed before muttering out a bashful apology and leaving the bedroom to go into the bathroom down the hall.

They haven’t spooned since then.

James hasn’t touched him since then.

At first, Kristofferson thought that he did something wrong. But when he actually thought about it, he realized that wasn’t the case.

Even though he knew what James wanted, he didn’t push him. He allowed him to set the pace for how he wanted, that, to go.

It was his first time. Not technically, but it was first time in a very, very, very long time that he had even had the chance, or even opportunity, to let those needs bubble up inside of him. So, Kris didn’t push.

Even though he did want too. He didn’t.

Which was why when James suddenly offered up a blindfold as soon as they got into Kris’ car, explaining that he wanted to take him somewhere special and wanted it to be surprise, he didn’t question it.

He only started to question it when it was an hour into the drive and the traffic had completely stopped and all that could be heard was the wind outside.

“I swear to god, James, if you brought me into a cabin to the woods just to drug me, and then lock me in the basement just to cut me up and sell me on the black market. I’m going to be pissed.”

James laughed at that, keeping his hands still firmly on Kristofferson’s shoulders to keep him going forward. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. I seen it in a movie.”

“You watch too many movies. Watch your step, there’s a stair.” He warns before letting go of him to walk around him, going up the step himself to gently take his hands to guide him up them carefully.

“I swear if you cut my ass off, I’m never talking to you again.”

“Why would I-” He just shakes his head with another laugh. “Nevermind. Another step.”

Kristofferson follows the instructions given to him, then stands there awkwardly as he listens to James dig around in his pocket for something before unlocking the front door. Pushing it open, which makes an eerie creek, before putting his right hand onto his shoulder to guide him inside.

“This isn’t helping my fear that you’re going to eat me.” Kris says simply as James chuckles to himself, pushing the door shut behind him.

James walks in front of him, putting the key into the pocket of his leather jacket before gently removing the blindfold from his eyes.

“I’m not going to eat you, Moon.” He assures as Kristofferson’s eyes squint to adjust to the bright lights after being in the dark for the last couple of hours. “I’ve never taken you on a trip before, I wanted to change that.” He moves his chin gently with his finger to make him look at him fully.

“We went to visit Sam’s family. That was a trip.”

“Yes, but Sam was there. We’re weren’t…” His voice trails off, losing some of the confidence that he worked up on the drive over here. “Alone.”

Kristofferson quietly blinks at him for a moment.

“We’re alone in your apartment.” He points out. “You didn’t need to, take me all the way out here, just to be alone with me y’know. We had somewhere already.”

“This is different, Moon. I-Fuck.” James sighs, putting his down from Kris’ face to rest in his shoulders. Massaging them idly as he tries to piece together the words he wants to say all over against. “I don’t like my apartment.”

“Then we could’ve hung out at mine.” He responds quickly before James can finish.

“No!” James responds just as quickly, fumbling over his words for a moment before he just sighs again, shaking his head this time. “I want this to be, special, and my apartment, or your apartment, isn’t somewhere where I feel comfortable for us to do… what I have planned.”

Kristofferson stares at him quietly once more, only for longer this time.

“But why some random, cabin?” He looks around for a moment before his gaze falls back on James. “Is this a cabin?”

“‘Cause I wanted… it to feel, like us. Like we were in the house we want.” James answers a little more sheepishly, his cheeks pinkening slightly. “If you want too. We don’t have too if you don’t want too.” He quickly adds.

Kristofferson sighs a little bit, then reaches his hands up to cup James’ scruffy face in between them. Starting to rub soothing reassuring circles onto his scruff.

“I want too. I have for a while. I’ve just been waiting for you to feel ready.” He explains honestly, his voice soft and tender. “Are you ready? ‘Cause we don’t have too if you’re not. ‘M fine with waiting longer.”

James shakes his head lightly in between his warm palms. “I want too.” He assures. “It’s been so long already, and we’re good right now, I feel like it’s time.”

“That’s not why we should do this though, Star. I want, to have sex, when you’re feeling a hundred percent ready for it. Not because you feel like you have to, put out, because we’re good right now. That’s not how this works.”

James falls silent at that, his gaze flickering down to the ground. His eyes gluing themselves to his and Kristofferson’s shoes.

“I know you’ve…” His voice trails off. His words making Kristofferson’s chest tighten in guilt in response.

“Baby, that’s different.” He whispers back. “I was… dealing with some stuff. This isn’t-this would be, like that. Don’t feel like you have to do this just because I’ve whored around in the past.”

“But we haven’t even done anything.” James’ voice dropping down to a murmur. “We barely even kiss, moon. I’m too damn scared to do anything. I used to be good at this.”

Kristofferson just frowns in response to hearing the self deprecating in James’ voice when he speaks. He can’t help but to feel that feeling of guilt inside his chest tighten and grow as this is his fault. His stupid, stupid past behavior coming back to bite him in the ass once again. Just like it always does.

This time though, it’s even worse than any of the previous times it has because it could’ve easily been avoided if Kristofferson dealt with things like a normal person for once.

“Don’t beat yourself up.” Kris eventually whispers, giving James’ cheek a little stroke. “It’s okay.”

“But it’s not.” James protests weakly, making himself cringe at the way his voice cracks in his throat. “You want this. I should be able to give you this without, being… like this. I shouldn’t…” His voice trails off once more.

“James, hey, look at me.” He gently moves his face to make him look up at him. Smiling at him thinly when his blue eyes, even though they are starting to becoming glossy, meet his. “It’s not your fault. Okay? You’re still… learning how to be a person again. It’s gonna take time. Some things are just going to take longer, and that’s okay. I’m in no rush.” He strokes his cheek gently once more. “I got no problem waiting.”

James smiles thinly back. Though his smile is weaker and more forced than Kristofferson’s, he still takes it.

“I still like you.” He adds, knowing that he needs the extra reassurance right now. “Even though I still don’t full believe that you didn’t bring me here to eat me.”

James laughs, truly laughs, at that, lightly shoving Kristofferson’s shoulder.

“I’m not gonna eat you! How many times do I have to tell you that!”

#bite the hand #bucky barnes x original character #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fanfiction #comic bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel mcu #mcu #bucky barnes oneshot #mcu fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic writing

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buckybarnesb-tch · 1 year

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Random Thoughts: Bucky Barnes

The Metal Arm

Contrary to what most people think Bucky actually loves it when his girl touches his metal arm.

It’s one of his biggest insecurities to be sure, he has a bad relationship with it (as one would imagine) but he enjoys it when his girl enjoys it, and that’s the only time he likes it.

On hot nights when no matter how much he turns up the AC for you, you’re still hot, your period giving you hot flashes that you believe are going to be the death of you, you wrap your entire upper body around the cool metal that never seems to change temperature and you finally drift off to sleep. After a night drinking with the girls, Natasha and Pepper dropping you back off at your shared apartment clearly able to hold much more liquor than you (though Bucky notices how Pepper often ends up leaning against the assassin as well before going home) your entire body is hot and you will always strip completely bare to fix the problem. It often leaves Bucky with his own problem that he needs to take care of as he refuses to touch you when you’ve had more than 3 drinks, but once he does and he crawls into bed your body finds its way around the chilled metal and you pass out clinging to him like a baby gorilla attached to its mother.

It makes Bucky feel useful

Like the metal arm can actually do something good for once

Bucky however, hates touching you with it.

If you don’t instigate the contact then he will never let the vibranium touch your perfect skin. He knows that you insist it’s okay, and that you love it but he doesn’t love it. He knows how much you enjoy the metal fingers wrapped around your throat on those nights that you want him to be particularly rough with you and while he will always give you what you want, it scares him to see something that’s brought so much pain to people wrapped around your delicate, perfect throat.

Slowly but surely you are helping him learn to enjoy the prosthetic in some way, even if it takes a while to get there. You are nothing if not patient and that’s one of the things Bucky loves the most about you, he needs patience from people more than anything as he acclimates to living life in this century as a normal person and you know and respect that completely.

He has learned to like you holding his metal hand as well. That one took the longest, he was always afraid of breaking your fingers if he so much as twitched but you let him know he was over reacting just a bit and took your time helping him get used to it. The feeling that he has in the fake limb (which isn’t as much as a real arm but was at least some kind of sensation) was enough that he enjoyed holding your smaller hand in his own, often bringing it to his lips to kiss your skin and sneakily checking to ensure he had not bruised your soft flesh.

The arm has always been an issue for the super soldier and probably always would be in some form, but he can say you’ve helped him enjoy it at least a little bit. He is now seeing some small perks of it which is helping him live with it just a bit more comfortably and that’s all you could ever ask for. And you’re all Bucky could ever ask for.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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misshoneybee · 2 years

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⟣ 𝑌𝑂𝑈'𝑅𝐸 𝑀𝑌 𝐴𝐶𝐻𝐼𝐿𝐿𝐸𝑆 𝐻𝐸𝐸𝐿 ⟢

— 𝑋𝑋𝐼𝐼. 𝐿𝑂𝑁𝐺 𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑌 𝑆𝐻𝑂𝑅𝑇, 𝐼 𝑆𝑈𝑅𝑉𝐼𝑉𝐸𝐷

Masterpost — OFC Biography — Playlists — Chapter XXI

❧ Pairings | Post-Endgame!Bucky Barnes x Original Female Character, Previous Steve Rogers x Original Female Character

❧ Warnings | Mature content, explicit language, painfully sweet fluff, explicit sexual content (quickie, breeding kink, lil bit of cum play, dirty talk), planned pregnancy, happily ever after

❧ Wordcount | ~12.2k

❧ Author’s Note | Welcome to the end! It's been a long ride but it's finally all here. If you followed along, please enjoy! xx.

And he's passing by Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky And he feels like home, If the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go ( long story short | evermore )

June 13, 2025

Life moved fast when everything finally fell into place. There was no discussion of labels or rules like there had been before—there wasn’t any need. Things returned to the way that they’d been before the speedbump. Most of their nights were spent together anyway, they ran errands like picking up groceries or taking Alpine to the groomers, and split chores—so, it only felt natural when Maggie finally asked him to move in just two months after telling him that she loved him.

Without any hesitation, Bucky had accepted the offer. Picking her up, she’d giggled as he’d carried her down the hall to, what would soon be, their bedroom. Nothing actually changed too much when he eventually took up residence in 3C—he knew how much she enjoyed the little pink accents that were sprinkled around and, if they made her happy, then he was happy too. Sure, their things mixed together as two homes became one, but most things stayed the same.

One thing that did change, however, was the contents of their walls. Finally, together, they hung up pictures of their families and friends—past and present. It was like some beautiful mosaic of everyone that they’d ever loved. Her mom and dad made several appearances along with Tony and Natasha, there were several of his sister, and parents, even the nieces and nephew that she’d finally convinced him to reach out to.

There were more than a handful of framed photos containing the Howling Commandos that she’d never met, and even more with Steve. He wasn’t a sore subject anymore. No longer did Maggie reminisce about their short, but beautiful, time together, nor did Bucky see him as some distant threat in the rearview mirror.

It had taken time, but they’d both eventually found peace.

In some ways, Steve was the reason that they’d found one another. Even in his absence, he brought them together and she could only hope that, somewhere out there, he knew how grateful she was—how grateful they both were. It had been so agonizing, losing him to a history she hardly knew, but Bucky was like a summer storm that had washed her clean and kept her warm.

He’d been worth all of the pain. Every rip and tear and gouge and scrape had been worth him.

Loving him was easy—it felt so natural, like she’d been doing it all her life. They fit into each other’s lives like missing puzzle pieces, cut from the same board; everything just worked. Their morning routines had meshed seamlessly; he got her coffee while she did her makeup, and she packed their lunches from the things she’d prepared the night before. He’d kiss her goodbye then pull her back in for another, ‘just for good measure,’ he’d say.

Their bedtime routine, however, had become the most sacred part of her day; she loved it. After dinner, they’d do the dishes and watch some inane television shows for a few hours before retiring. It was comfortable; there was nothing left to hide anymore. Over time, he’d become less and less self-conscious about his arm with her and she wore zit cream and her tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses around the apartment.

In the evenings, she’d shower, occasionally Bucky would join, and they’d lose track of time for an hour or so, then he’d sit in the bathroom with her as she did her skincare, silently watching through the steamy mirror as she swiped essences and creams over her warm, clean skin. After brushing their teeth, they’d climb into bed and Alpine would curl up between their feet for the long night ahead.

This was what the little creature had wanted all along. Maybe his little parent trap attempt earlier in the year had failed, but the couple had finally figured it out and now he had both of them, all of the time.

As she turned the last page in her book’s chapter, Maggie could feel his eyes burning into her side profile and she refrained from giving him a pointed look as she finished the short passage. Tucking the bookmark between the thin pages, she stretched as she placed it on her nightstand and flipped the lamp’s switch. They were plunged into darkness aside from the golden glow of the streetlamp that streamed through the blinds.

It had been quite a wild Friday night for the lovers. They’d had a movie date after he’d ordered from her favorite Chinese place, and they’d still landed in bed before midnight. Moving to lay down and settle beneath the seasonally thin comforter that she’d placed on their bed—god, she’d never get tired of saying ‘their’—Maggie let out a giggle as a pair of thick, mismatched arms rolled her over to face the opposite direction instead.

“Well, hello there.” His clear blue eyes were grinning as she threaded her arms around his neck, pleasantly surprised at the maneuver that had resulted in their bodies being pressed together, “Can I help you?”

“You’re so beautiful.” The kiss that he caught her lips with was smooth and languid. His warm tongue caressed hers and she tangled her fingers in his hair, playing with the strands that had begun to grow out. Six months later, they were still enrobed in a blanket of bliss, and she couldn’t foresee that changing anytime soon.

As they parted, searching for oxygen to remedy their dizzy heads, he exhaled with a breathless laugh, “Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s.” Maggie murmured, throwing her leg around his hip, and hooking her foot behind his calf as she curled closer into this chest. When she slept, she had this little habit of clinging to him like a koala and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think it was the cutest damn thing that he’d ever seen.

“Me either.” His voice rumbled contentedly, and she smiled into his chest, her lips brushing the warm skin there. It was quiet for a long moment and the movement from each of his breaths began to lull her to sleep before he took a deep inhale, his hand still drifting up and down her back as he finally whispered, “Run away with me.”

Maggie’s breath hitched and she stilled, pulling away just the slightest bit so she could see his face. Her brow furrowed as she found him already staring down at her intently, waiting for any reaction, “What?”

“I’m done.” Shaking his head, he clarified with an exhaustion that had seeped down, deep into his bones after so many years of nonstop conflict. The feeling had been weighing on him for months, “I’m done fighting. I’ve been doing it for so long and I just don’t want to do it anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” She exhaled, brushing some hair from his forehead as she held his gaze. There was a part of her that knew what he was asking, but she needed to hear it more plainly—especially if she wanted to give him the answer that he so desperately wanted and deserved.

“You said that I just had to choose, right?” As she gave him a curious nod, Bucky flicked the lamp back on and sat up slowly, pulling her with him as he continued with an intensity that made her chest tight, “So that’s what I’m doing—I’m choosing. I choose this. I choose us. I want everything with you, Maggie.”

The cool vibranium hand cupped her cheek as his face softened; the eyes hidden behind her glasses were wide as she took in his words. The warm cinnamon hue was so comforting, so beautiful as they found the cool, sky-blue shade of his own—they couldn’t have been more different, but they felt like home to him.

She felt like home.

In the short time since knowing her, she’d become his northern star. No matter where they were, or how long they were parted for, he knew that if he found his way back to her, nothing else mattered. She was like a shot of espresso or the warm sun, something that had brought him back after so many years of walking through life, half-asleep and begging for time to pass faster.

Now, he didn’t know if they’d ever have enough of it. No amount of time could ever be enough with her.

It felt like his heart was wide open, hers for the taking or breaking, as he laced the fingers of his other hand with hers and took a tremulous breath, “Run away with me. Let’s leave the city and make something that’s just for us.”

She blinked.

He was really asking her to run away with him.

She’d done it alone so many times before; it had become like a routine. Run, build everything from the ground up, start over, and repeat when everything inevitably fell apart again. But what if it didn’t?

Things weren’t falling apart—they were finally falling into place. In a few months, her contract with the Stark Relief Foundation would be up. Then what? Her work, for the most part, would be done. There were no more children to reunite with families, no more fires to be doused—maybe it was time for a new adventure but, for once, she didn’t have to be alone.

They could start over somewhere new, together.

For the first time, there was a possibility that she could start over with someone by her side and it felt good.

“Okay.” The word was almost a whisper as a nervous excitement began to flood her body, electricity and nerves tingling her fingertips as she agreed with an almost bobble head-like nod, a grin spreading across her lips, “Yes. Let’s do it, let’s go.”

“Really?” His cautious smile matched hers as he pulled her on to his lap, pressing kisses all over her face before capturing her lips victoriously as she giggled. Her legs parted, slotting his hips between them as her bare knees pressed into the soft, wrinkled sheets. His hands on her waist stilled as he pulled back, with a secret smile and little hum as if he’d only just remembered something. “Okay, then. Just, one more thing…”

Leaning over, she watched with a furrowed brow as he opened the drawer of his nightstand and rifled through it, easily finding the singular item that he was seeking. It had been tucked away in a little, silk satchel for five months—he knew that he’d need it sometime soon enough. It was like things moved in slow motion as the faceted stone caught the warm, dim light and she knew.

Her hands dropped from his shoulders as Bucky held the ring before her, tucked gingerly between the pads of his thumb and index fingers. The gold band was dainty as it supported the brilliant, oval diamond that sent light refracting off the walls. On each side, it was flanked by smaller clusters of diamonds that sparkled with each slight movement—she’d never seen something so beautiful.

“Marry me.”

Tearing her eyes from the ring, she found his already on her. There was a softness behind them that only served to melt her further. In her entire life, no one had ever looked at her that way—like she’d painstakingly hung the moon and painted each and every infinite star in the night sky.

Sometimes it still made her head spin to know that he loved her that much.

Maggie could hear the way her heart was beating in her ears, blood rushing and swirling around as she took in the question. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know that she would marry him someday—that was a given. She just didn’t know that it would be so soon.

Opening and closing her mouth, it felt like nothing was coming out until she whispered, “What?”

“I want it all with you, Maggie.” Taking her left hand, his thumb rubbed the back of it soothingly as he watched her take in the moment. “Every single thing.”

For the first time in her entire adult life, the idea of marriage wasn’t sending her reeling or running. She was content, right here. Squeezing his hand tightly, she looked back to the ring that was still in his vibranium grip and exhaled with a wobbly lower lip, “Bucky…”

“When you love someone, you choose them again and again even when things are hard or don’t make sense.” Resting his forehead against hers, the moment was quiet, intimate. It was something that she wanted to save forever in a little keepsake box and look back on it when she was a hundred years old.

That old piece of her, the part that had always told her how hard she was to love, was dumbfounded—he really, truly wanted to marry her.

“I promise that I will always choose you, Maggie.” The warm, wet tears traced shiny tracks down her bare cheeks, making her glasses blurry as she sniffled. Wiping the evidence of her overflowing heart away with his thumb, Bucky’s voice was soft as he continued, “I know that this is scary, and I know that you’ve already gone through every single scenario of how this can go badly but I’m sure of this. Of us. I have never been so sure of anything else in my entire life.”

Bringing her hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss to the back of it, “I love you, so, please say you’ll marry me. Let’s do this together.”

She knew that Bucky had never really been given much of a choice at any point in his life. He didn’t get to choose if he went to war or what side to fight for, he didn’t get to choose if his best friend stayed or returned to the past, but he could choose her. He was choosing her.

“I love you.” With a watery smile, taking his face in her hands, she pulled him down to her lips with as much strength as she could muster. The little chuckle that came from his chest shook her as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, anchoring her to him—he’d always be her port in a storm.

Pulling himself away, he allowed a tentative smile to take up residence on his face as he looked down at her, “So, is that a yes?”

A breathless laugh was pulled from her parted lips as she nodded through the tears, “Of course, it’s a yes.”

Taking her hand, he stared at her wonderstruck expression as he slid the ring on her finger easily—like Cinderella and the glass slipper.

Staring at the large rock, she’d expected it to feel heavy once it found its home on her finger, but it didn’t—she felt weightless, like nothing could ever bring her back down to earth. Giggling excitedly, Maggie flung her arms around him, and he pretended to be forced back on to the bed by her momentum with a quiet ‘oof!’

“I wanna marry you right now.” He murmured, rolling them over and propping himself up with his elbows as he hovered above her. Lacing their fingers together, he couldn’t take his eyes from his ring on her finger. She wanted to marry him. Pressing his lips to her jaw, he hummed thoughtfully, “You think city hall is open now?”

“I need a dress!” She protested with a grin, shaking her head though a part of her knew that if city hall really was open, she’d marry him in a heartbeat.

“You could get married in this,” Bucky’s fingers plucked at the strap of her lacy, ivory nightie with a salacious grin as he devoured her with his eyes, “I’m pretty partial to it.”

Rolling her eyes, she got out through her giggles, “I am not getting married in something that you can see my nipples through!”

With a big sigh, he pouted immaturely, “I thought you loved me.”

“And I can’t get married without Poppy.” The hand she’d rested on his back slid down to his ass and she couldn’t resist giving it a little pinch as she pointed out, “She’d kick both of our butts for even thinking about it.”

With a groan, he pressed his face into the pillow beside her head and she added, “Six months at the most.” His groan grew louder through the feather down cushion, making Alpine hiss at the sound. Landing a playful smack to his sleep-pants covered bottom, she chastised with a little smile, “Stop being a dick.”

Propping himself back up, Bucky huffed pointedly, “Is that any way to talk to your husband?”

“You mean my fiancé?” She corrected with a raised brow.

“I guess I could get used to that…for now.” Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers and pulled back, making a dissatisfied Maggie grumble as he added, “But, if you aren’t my wife in six months, I’m carrying your cute little ass the whole way to the courthouse, dressed just like this, and we’re getting hitched. Got it?”

With a decisive nod, she eagerly agreed, “Got it.”

“Now,” Sitting back on his haunches, between her legs, he played with the satin hem of her sleepwear and pushed it up her thighs slowly with a glint in his eye as he innocently suggested, “We should get some practice in for the wedding night.”

Her bottom lip was swollen and cherry red from the way her teeth had dug into it before she nodded absently, “Very prudent, Mr. Barnes.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Barnes.” He winked as the silky fabric was pushed higher and higher.

She didn’t even bother to correct him; he’d be right soon enough anyway.

November 8, 2025

It had been a small, intimate affair. Less than fifty people total in attendance, it was exactly what Maggie had always wanted her wedding to be like. There was no need for faking smiles or forcing small talk when the only ones that were invited, were the ones you loved the most.

It didn’t even really feel much like a wedding at all; it was more like a dinner party where two attendees just happened to elope. It was perfect. She wasn’t anxious, there was no black abyss of panic deep inside of her—she was filled with pure contentment.

The little dancefloor hidden in the midst of the city’s botanical gardens was mostly empty, lit by the crisscrossing strands of fairy lights that had been strung from trees high above it. It was unseasonably warm for November; the evening was cool, but a warm breeze drifted through the party, ruffling napkins and dresses and green centerpieces every so often.

The saxophone and horn-heavy ‘Moonlight Serenade’ drifted smoothly from speakers that were hidden amidst flowers and shrubbery as Bucky guided her around the floor. It was otherwise silent as their guests’ eyes stayed trained on the couple’s stolen moment. Everyone there knew how much it meant for them.

The white hem of her gown brushed the floor with each sway, making her look like she was walking on air. It was how she felt though—completely weightless in his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder comfortably as his fingers brushed against the buttons that traveled up her spine and kept the silk edges of her bodice together.

Finding the dress had been pure serendipity but as soon as she saw it in the shop, she’d known that it was the one. She and Poppy hadn’t even been looking for wedding gowns, but the blonde had implored her to go inside when they’d passed a bridal boutique on the way to brunch on one late-summer morning. It had been on a mannequin in the back corner of the shop but there’d been no question—it was coming home with her.

The heavy, A-line gown had the most delicate floral design woven into the silk wool skirt, forcing the illusion of texture, but otherwise, it was the simplicity that had made her fall in love. Thin, silk straps rested daintily on her shoulders; the camisole top had a deep, plunging neckline that was connected only with a panel of mesh.

When Bucky had seen her from the other end of the aisle, it felt like they were the only two in the small greenhouse venue. Surrounded by greenery and little white flowers and tulle, he was the only thing that mattered. She knew the smile on his face could warm her even on the darkest arctic nights—and it was all for her. For them.

So many times, Maggie had thought that she knew what the rest of her life would look like but this time, she knew it was right. It was forever. No more back and forth, no more trying to tread water and keep from drowning—now it was them. Just them.

When the song ended and everyone else flooded the floor, the newlyweds were separated by friends and well-wishers or, in Maggie’s case, a giggly six-and-a-half-year-old flower girl. Barely having time to brush her lips with her new husband’s before he was pulled away with an apology from Sam, she crouched down to Morgan’s level with a grin.

Adjusting the dainty, green and cream flower crown that rested atop the little girl’s light brown hair, she raised her voice over the music that had picked up, “Having fun, Stork?”

“Yes!” Nodding excitedly, causing the crown to go askew again, much to Maggie’s amusement, Morgan grabbed her godmother’s hand, “Mommy let me have some of the sparkling juice so I could be like her, but I couldn’t try hers because she said it was only for the grownups. And Uncle Happy gave me twenty dollars to play keep away with Uncle Rhodey’s phone. And everyone keeps saying I look like a princess, but I think it’s just because the dress is so fluffy.”

Smiling amusedly at the way the younger girl strung each statement together like it was a cohesive story instead of a stream of childlike consciousness, Maggie laughed softly and enveloped her in a tight hug which Morgan returned happily. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath as she allowed herself just one split second of grief amid the celebration.

She would have given anything for those that she’d lost to have been there—Natasha, her parents, Tony, even Steve. After she lost her dad, she’d always thought that she’d ask her godfather to walk her down the aisle when the time came, but he’d been taken from her too. Sometimes life wasn’t really fair, but she’d learned to live with it.

Maybe it wasn’t exactly how she’d pictured it, but it had been perfect, nonetheless.

Pieces of everyone remained—she wore a necklace that Natasha had given her, one of Steve’s silk ties had secured her bouquet, the comb holding her veil in place had belonged to her dad’s mother and her own had worn it on her wedding day, and then she had Morgan.

A living, breathing piece of Tony was more precious than any physical thing he could have left to her.

“Magpie,” Morgan’s little voice was bashful as she sweetly requested, “can we dance?”

“Of course, we can!” Standing, she dabbed at her eyes before pulling Morgan back out on to the floor, between all their friends and loved ones. The music was loud, some of the laughter even louder, as she spun her goddaughter around the floor, giggling all the while. After three songs, the white, patent leather pumps were beginning to kill her feet, but she didn’t have the heart to deny Morgan yet another dance.

Her savior came in the form of a tall, heavy-set man who was, unsurprisingly, wearing his typical suit and tie combo. Happy asked to cut in, offering to dance with the younger Stark as Maggie sought reprieve. Mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ as he took over, she flinched as she glided to the bar in search of a drink.

As soon as her fingers had wrapped around the fragile stem and brought the glass to her lips, a heavy pair of arms slipped around her waist, and she smiled into the sip of crisp white wine. Replacing the glass, she leaned back against the broad hard chest that she could feel behind her, her hands finding the fraternal ones and lacing their fingers together.

“If it isn’t my husband,” The painful heels that encased her feet brought her closer to Bucky’s height, so she only had to turn her head to find his lips, exchanging a chaste kiss as the party fell into the background. He hummed as the sweet, tart liquid on her lips bled into his mouth. Her eyes were bright as she looked up at him, the gold shadow gilding her eyelids and making her look angelic.

In his life, he’d known the burning red of lust and infatuation, the blue of loss, the black of fear and pain, but he hadn’t known that love was golden until he met Maggie. Somedays, he still didn’t feel like he deserved it—her affection, her endless devotion—but she made sure that he knew he did, every single day.

“How are you feeling?” He murmured in her ear, making her shiver just slightly at their closeness. They’d been apart for most of the day and she only wanted some time alone with her husband but the night was far from over.

Slumping back into his arms, she knew that he’d easily bear her weight as she complained quietly, “My feet are killing me—Poppy picked these damn shoes and Morgan is relentless.”

“Like her godmother.” He chuckled, spinning her around to face him. Sliding her arms around his neck, she let out a comfortable sigh as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’re good with her.”

“She’s perfect.” Looking over Bucky’s shoulder, seeing the girl in question still giggling as Happy Hogan did the twist, just to appease her, Maggie murmured fondly, “I hope our—”

Cutting herself off quickly before she could complete the latter half of that mindless sentence, she felt her rouged cheeks flush darker. Perhaps it was a conversation they should have had before, but they hadn’t, and their wedding certainly wasn’t the place that she wanted to have it.

Pressing her lips together, she would have been hard pressed to ignore the grin that had spread across Bucky’s bearded face at her slip-up. There was a mischievous glint in the clear blue iris of his eye, little lines framing them as he tilted her chin up to look at him, asking quietly, “Our kids?”

Embarrassed, she hid her face in his tuxedo-clad chest and nodded the slightest bit; he chuckled as she tightened her arms around him, pressing his lips to the top of her head as a warmth spread through him at the idea.

Since Hydra, since Washington, since everything, he hadn’t even imagined having kids. Not until Maggie, until them.

With her, he wanted whatever she did. If she just wanted it to be them and Alpine forever, he would be happy with that but if she wanted children, then he’d be elated too. Whatever life they made together, whatever they created, as long as she was with him, he knew it would be perfect.

“You want kids?” He murmured hesitantly, feeling a warmth in his chest at the thought.

Taking a breath, Maggie leaned back to cautiously watch his expression as she gave a shy shrug, “I…didn’t use to, but now I do.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, she quickly began, “But I didn’t know if you wanted them, and if you don’t, that’s okay—”

“I do.” Cutting her off, he leaned down to capture her lips. He tasted like expensive whiskey and mint with the barest hint of tobacco from he and Sam’s celebratory cigars that they’d smoked outside just a few minutes before. Resting his forehead against hers after their lips parted, he whispered softly, “Of course, I do. I want you to be the mother of my children, Maggie.”

“You do?” With her left hand cupping his cheek, he could feel the cool metal of her wedding set pressing against his skin and he returned her giddy smile as she teased with a conspiratorial whisper, “You want to knock me up, Barnes?”

His arms tightened around her waist at the inference, and he leaned down to whisper into her ear, “Tell me when and I promise I will, Barnes.”

Teeth digging into her glossed lip at the use of her new last name and his irrefutable offer, her eyes were wide as she chanced a glance around the small room. Everyone was otherwise occupied for the time being, dancing and drinking and talking.

Surely, the newlyweds wouldn’t be missed for ten minutes.

“You know, since I bought that reception dress, I need to go change.” With a feigned casual tone, she took his hands and began taking a few, slow steps backwards in the direction of the hall that led to the bridal suite where she’d gotten ready earlier that morning, “You mind helping me out of this one?”

The conversation held with only their eyes was fast as he caught the meaning of her words and gave a dumbstruck nod before a little smirk appeared on his face as she slipped inside the room, pulling him along, “It would be my pleasure.”

“I think it’s going to be mine, actually.” Maggie giggled, locking the door behind him in the split second before he pounced.

At once, they were a mess of limbs and silk and wool and tulle as he pressed her against the cool wall, his tongue sweeping over her lip and dipping into her mouth through the searing kiss as she pushed his coat from his shoulders, and he cupped one of her breasts through the white silk. Undoing his belt and the button of his slacks, she giggled against his mouth as she yanked the soft, white shirt from where it had been tucked away.

With a hum, she shoved him back on to the velvet settee and grinned at his darkened eyes. Turning her back to him, and brushing her hair over her shoulder, Maggie gave him access to the buttons as she practically vibrated in excitement at the stolen moment with her new husband.

As his fingers went to work on the countless, little satin-covered buttons, she heard him give a low growling curse as the bodice slowly loosened. Peering over her shoulder, Maggie gave him a look, “James Barnes, if you rip this dress, I will kick your—oh, fuck—ass.”

His lips were pressed against her neck, giving hot kisses and little nips that she knew she should stop because they’d certainly leave a mark. “All these goddamn little buttons—shit.”

Finally, he’d undone enough to help her slip out of the cloud-like gown and groaned at the sight as she stood before him. Craving to touch her, he quickly draped the heavy dress over the couch’s arm for the time being before grabbing her hips and yanking her on to his lap, “Fuck, baby. You were just wearing this under that?”

“Didn’t need a bra,” She giggled as his hands roamed all over her bare torso, taking a breast in each hand as he kneaded them and pinched her rosy nipples, making a warmth pool low in her stomach. Threading her fingers through his hair, she tilted her head back with a little smile as his lips trailed over her decolletage and breasts. She hummed as his hands skated down to the white lace and silk panties around her hips, “Bet you’ll like what I have for tonight…”

“Love you in anything.” He murmured, slipping his fingers beneath the soft fabric to brush over her slick folds. Easily zeroing in on her clit, he gave a dark chuckle as she bucked her hips at the teasing sensation while he slowly traced small circles around it, “Look at my little wife, always so ready for me…”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Her voice was breathy as he carefully slipped his middle finger inside, teasing her slowly as he slipped it in and out, his rhythm just slightly too slow for her liking. Digging her teeth into her lip, trying to stay quiet and avoid any unwanted attention, Maggie felt like she was going to draw blood as she whined softly, “Fuck, need you inside me.”

“We’ll be quick, baby.” Pressing a short kiss to her lips, he shoved his pants down just far enough to pull out his hard cock, using her wetness on his hand to give it a few quick tugs. Hooking a thumb in her panties where a little, dark spot had formed from her wetness, he pulled them aside and used his tip to brush against her slit with a low groan. Finally, he slid inside her in one stroke, a hand on her hip guiding her down as her fingers dug into his shoulders at the welcomed intrusion.

“God, you feel so good, peach.” He groaned, bottoming out inside of her warmth. Slowly, he lifted her from his length easily, leaving only the tip inside before dropping her back down; she whimpered as he murmured between hard thrusts, “We gotta be quick so I’m gonna use this sweet little pussy like my little fucktoy. Okay, baby? You gonna be good for me?”

Stifling a cry into his neck, Maggie nodded and held on to him tightly as he picked up a punishing pace, “Love your cock, Bucky. Oh—” She cut off as he rocked into her deeply, the tip of his cock pressing firmly against the spongey g-spot he always seemed to find with a practiced ease. Teasingly, she nipped his earlobe as she whispered, “You gonna fuck a baby into me, Barnes?”

“Is that what you. want, doll?” She could hear the grin in his voice as his fingers dug into her hips just a little harder as he gave a particularly deep rut that made fireworks shoot off behind her closed eyelids as he goaded lowly, “Not even married for an hour and you already want me to knock you up? Hm?”

Rolling her hips without abandon, she tried to meet each of his hard thrusts as she whined with a little nod, “Please, Buck…”

With a groan, he rocked his hips against hers, one of his hands drifting down to toy with her swollen nub as he teased in her ear, quiet enough so only she could hear, “That’s right, peach. Gonna fill you up and give you a baby right now. You want to be a mommy? Can’t fuckin’ wait to see you get all round with my kid—you’re gonna look so pretty with me drippin’ out of this tight little hole tonight. Should make you walk around with all my cum stuffed right here ‘til we get home. Yeah? Gotta make sure it takes and we’ll try again later just to be sure…”

His debauched words made her cheeks burn but the way they made her wetness drip out around his relentless cock was impossible to hide. Nodding, she babbled through the head-spinning pleasure with her voice just a little higher than usual, “Yes—yes, want it now, please.” His thumb strumming unforgivingly against her clit made her thighs tense as she shuddered out a broken cry, “Oh god—”

“Come for me, doll.” He begged, his finger refusing to quit its ministrations as he snapped his hips up into hers as she rode him recklessly.

“James—”

Covering her mouth with one of his hands, he let her take control, fucking herself on to him with muffled cries as he taunted with a smirk, “Gotta stay quiet, Mrs. Barnes. Don’t wanna let everyone know your husband is fucking you stupid back here.”

Slipping two fingers into her mouth, he groaned as she sucked them, her cheeks hollowing as her tongue rolled around the vibranium digits and she watched him from under her lashes with a dark look in her molten chocolate eyes, “Mm, that’s it, just like that…” He praised as he felt the way her walls began to flutter around his length.

Removing his fingers with a pop, he grabbed her hips once again and found that same, impossible pace as he demanded with a raspy groan, “Now, let me feel you squeeze ‘round me, peach. Need to make sure you take all of it—fuck, baby…”

Little, breathy pants were pulled from her swollen lips with every thrust as her eyes drifted shut. The rubber band deep in her belly was pulled taut as she gasped out, “James, oh god—” Cutting off, she felt it snap as her entire body tensed. Endorphins flooded her brain as her cunt clenched around him like a vice; feeling his warm spend spill into her with a low curse, she whined out quietly, “Fuck…”

Resting her dewy forehead in the crook of his neck, she smiled as Bucky’s lips brushed lazily against her shoulder, “Mm, love you, doll.”

“Love you, Buck.” Pressing a gentle kiss to the warm skin of his throat, she stayed comfortably in his embrace as the post-orgasmic haze led to sleepiness.

Perhaps their guests wouldn’t notice if the couple just disappeared—it wasn’t out of the ordinary for either of them, after all.

Her bubble of bliss was popped as Bucky began to peel her off of him with a soft encouragement, “Come on, you need to get dressed.” Despite her whines, he only appeased her half-way as he slipped out of her slowly, careful not to get their mess on the dark fabric of his pants, with a promise, “We’ll have time for more later, peach. Just a few more hours.”

Pouting, she rolled back on to the couch with an exaggerated sigh, “Fine.”

As he hung up her gown, she gathered her strength and finally stood on coltish legs, ignoring the soreness between her thighs. She was only two steps towards the bathroom when he asked with a cocked brow, “Where are you going?”

Raising her own at him, matching his expression, Maggie looked at him, “To clean up?”

“Oh, no.” With three strides, he was in front of her once more. Readjusting the cheeky underwear on her hips that she’d begun to roll down, he gave a gentle pat to her ass. “No. I meant what I said, doll.” His smirk made her breath catch as he continued, “You’re gonna keep it there. All night.”

“Bucky! I—” Blushing from head to toe, she floundered for any words as he waited for her to disagree but they both knew she didn’t want to, so she muttered simply, “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Grabbing her other dress from the rack, he unzipped it and held it out for her to step into. Helping her into the sleeves, he traced a finger up her spine and followed it with the zipper as he murmured into her ear teasingly, “If you did, you wouldn’t have asked me to put a baby in you.”

Five minutes later, with Maggie’s deep-burgundy lipstick reapplied neatly and her hair finally detangled, they stealthily slipped out of the desecrated bridal suite and back into the still-empty hall. Hand and hand, and her thighs pressed together tightly, the couple casually returned to the reception with as much plausible deniability as they could muster. They’d been gone less than twenty-minutes, hopefully their absence hadn’t been too obvious—

“You two!” Poppy hissed, her ivy eyes narrowed in a glare at the newlyweds as she descended upon them from out of left field. She was a woman on a mission; the cake should have been cut ten minutes ago. She kept her voice low as she shook her head, mildly irritated at the couple’s disregard for their own evening’s timetable, “I have been looking everywhere for you!”

The way Bucky’s grip tightened on her hand as he stifled a laugh made a smile twitch on Maggie’s lips as she lied easily, “He was…helping me into the dress.” Bucky nodded innocently, corroborating the story as Maggie gestured vaguely to the short, cocktail dress that she’d changed into just minutes earlier, “The zipper got stuck and he was—”

Poppy’s eyes flickered between the pair before Maggie saw the lightbulb go off inside of her best friend’s head and braced herself for the impending reprimand, “No—ew!” Looking around with exasperation tinging her expression, she chastised with an air of disgust, shouting through her whisper, “Guys, there are people here! How could you do that? You couldn’t just wait a few more hours!?”

“We were quiet!” Bucky added unhelpfully in defense of their escapade.

Smacking his chest gently with the back of her hand, Maggie’s face went scarlet as she hissed, “James!”

“Gross.” Poppy groaned, taking Maggie’s other hand as she pulled the couple towards the cake table, “We will be discussing this later.”

November 9, 2025

There’d been very little back and forth when discussing their honeymoon, but Maggie had been giggly as she made a reservation at a familiar little place that was tucked away, hidden down in the tree in the Appalachian foothills.

It had been some stupid throwaway joke in the middle of the night, but it was the first place that he’d ever called her his wife. Now, he could say it again and, finally, be telling the truth. As soon as she’d put the location into the navigation system, he’d known exactly where they were going. With a silent chuckle, he’d taken her hand on the console and they’d set off for the road trip.

An entire week spent at a mountainside bed and breakfast where they could see the changing, fiery red and warm gold leaves and sleep in together every morning, was perfect.

By the time they’d arrived, the sun had long since set, covering them in the dark navy night as Bucky toted their bags inside, Maggie leading the way with a little skip in her step that made him smile at her excitement. He couldn’t imagine ever taking off the rose-colored glasses that she’d given him.

Tapping the little bell on the desk summoned the innkeeper from the back room; making eye contact with one another as the stout, old woman shuffled out, the pair had to stifle their smiles as recognition struck.

“Hi, we have a reservation for Barnes.”

With white hair, that had most certainly been set with rollers, and a pair of red glasses on a chain around her neck, she shouldn’t have been surprised to see the same woman was still manning the place after almost two years months.

“Of course…” Slipping the glasses on, perching them on the tip of her nose, Sandy traced a finger down the page before coming to the name. Selecting one of the many keys that hung on the wall, she handed it to Maggie with a puzzled expression, “Here you are! Oh—don’t you two look familiar.”

Giving Bucky, who floundered over whether to finally tell the old woman the truth, a sidelong glance, Maggie chimed helpfully with a sparkle in her eye, “Well, we were actually here about a year and a half ago.”

At that, Sandy was finally able to place the young couple in her memory—he was the adulterer. Giving Bucky a severe look, she returned her eyes to the young woman who’d taken the man’s ungloved hand with that same lovestruck look on her face that she’d had all that time before.

Smiling, Maggie spun the web larger herself as she lied with a little, enamored smile, “We just renewed our vows yesterday and he thought it would be a good idea to go back to the place where we decided to start over.”

“I see.” Skeptical of the man, Sandy’s expression didn’t hide the disdain that she felt.

“I think it’s really going to work this time.” Maggie rested her head against his shoulder as she grinned up at him, “Isn’t that right, peach?”

Unable to stifle his snort of laughter, he agreed with a kiss to the top of her head, “Sure is, peach.”

The room hadn’t changed at all since their last visit—the dated art still hung on the walls, the floral comforter still covered the bed, the giant bathtub was still in the corner of the bathroom, and there was still a beautiful view beyond the porch that was attached to the carriage house. Unlike their last visit though, they actually had time to unpack for their week of quiet rest with one another before the world needed them back once again.

Tucking the last articles of clothing into the second drawer of the heavy bureau, Maggie padded into the bathroom in search of her new husband. It felt so odd to think that—he wasn’t just her boyfriend or friend with benefits. He was her husband; they were legally bound. A year ago, let alone two, she never could have imagined this was where she’d be.

She wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Finding him standing before the framed mirror with his toothbrush in hand, she slipped her arms around his waist from behind in a tight hug. He was warm, pressed against her front, as she rested her cheek on his back.

Brushing one of her fingers over the engraved vibranium of his left ring finger, a little, hidden smile spread across her face as she clasped his hand. It had been a clever gift from Shuri; there was no need for a wedding band when he could have one permanently etched on to his hand instead. When she’d seen it for the first time, she’d cried. But what else was new?

The question had been turning over in her mind since the night before and finally they were alone without any obligation or reservation to get in the way. Waiting until he spat the blue, foamy paste into the white, porcelain basin, Maggie whispered softly as he rinsed it down the drain, “Did you mean it?”

Squeezing her hand, he hummed absentmindedly as he wiped off the counter, “Mean what, doll?”

Biting the inside of her cheek, she was glad her face was hidden against the broad plane of his back. Smushing her face to the soft t-shirt, her nervous voice was muffled as the vibrations of it moved through his chest, “About…having a baby?”

She felt the way his body loosened at her words and giggled as he pulled her around to stand between him and the counter before he lifted her easily, perching her on the edge of the sink. Standing between her parted legs, he waited for her to finally look up at him.

His expression was painfully soft as his eyes searched hers and he murmured earnestly, “Of course, I did.” His thumb brushed over her cheek gently as the corner of his lips ticked upwards, “Whenever you’re ready. I know you’re still on the pill—”

“I brought them—” Maggie cut him off, her fingers digging into the edge of the unforgiving, cool marble counter beneath her, “but I don’t have to take them.” Swallowing, she took a breath and gave a half-hearted shrug as she added nervously, “I could just…stop taking them if we wanted to start trying now.”

Cupping her face with his other hand, she could feel the excitement radiating from him and her anxiety was washed away as the tension left her shoulders. Reaching up, she brushed a finger over the lines in his cheek as he grinned, “Really?”

“We’ll be in Louisiana by summer.” Shrugging, she bit her lower lip to stifle an excited smile. Maybe it was fast, maybe from the outside, they looked insane, but she couldn’t care less about what anyone else thought. It was only her and Bucky from then on—no one else mattered anymore. Nodding, she exhaled, “I’m ready to start a family with you.”

Giving her a quick peck on the lips, he draped her arms around his shoulders and lifted her easily. Locking her ankles just below the small of his back, she couldn’t help but giggle as he turned into a man on a mission, carrying her back into their bedroom for the week ahead. Dropping her on the bed unceremoniously, he whipped his shirt off and tossed it somewhere across the room.

The glint had returned to his eye as he caught her lips in a steamy, slow kiss before moving down to her neck and whispering in her ear, “Well, then we got some work to do, Mrs. Barnes.”

“Yes, we do.” Maggie sighed contentedly, her eyes drifting shut as his lips continued on their journey.

Practice made perfect and Maggie always had been a perfectionist, so there was no time to start like the present.

January 8, 2026

“What’s this?”

Maggie had been particular chipper since waking that morning. Sure, it was her birthday but there’d been an extra spring in her step. Maybe it was the overly sweetened coffee that she’d been drinking over the past month or the fact that she’d slept in, but either way: her spirit was incredibly high for a snowy, January evening.

Gesturing to the box on the cushion beside her, she looked up at Bucky with a cheeky grin, “It’s for you!”

“Doll, I’m pretty sure that I’m supposed to give you gifts on your birthday, not the other way around.” He chuckled, leaning over the back of the couch to press a kiss to her head as he retrieved his own gift to her from the back of the top shelf in the hall closet. Knowing his wife’s penchant for snooping, he’d hidden it to the best of his abilities.

All those years of espionage had actually come in handy. None of her search attempts in the past weeks had panned out.

Accepting the gift bag from him, with a soft peck to her lips, Maggie settled back into the couch. Narrowing her eyes playfully, she bargained, “I’ll open mine after you open yours.”

“Someone’s impatient.” With a little smile, he flopped down beside her with an exaggerated sigh as Alpine gave an annoyed meow and fled the scene. “Fine, I’ll bite.”

Handing over the small, white, rectangular box victoriously, Maggie was practically vibrating with excitement as he accepted the unsuspecting gift, “Happy birthday to me.”

Shaking his head, amused and curious of her antics, he removed the top and set it aside. Unfolding the white tissue paper, it took a moment for his brain to comprehend the handful of items within. On top of a little cotton onesie were five plastic sticks—each with a very apparent plus sign in the little windows on the side.

He’d seen them before—he’d been with her when she’d purchased them in bulk the month before. She’d known it was too soon, but she’d been too excited to listen to the logical part of her brain. However, if it had been too soon then, it certainly wasn’t now.

If the five positive pregnancy tests weren’t enough, the onesie with Baby Barnes embroidered across the chest in a light green thread, definitely was.

At first, when he’d imagined having children, Bucky had been terrified. What if he messed them up? Or hurt them? What if the serum changed something? Or what if he couldn’t have them at all? Every single fear, Maggie had quelled with soft words and plans and embraces. A geneticist that Poppy knew had told them that the serum wouldn’t affect any possible children that the couple had—and children were more than possible since Bucky’s reproductive ability had been wholly unaffected by Hydra’s experiments.

As for hurting them or screwing them up, she had assured him that nothing would go wrong as long as they were in it together. Sure, parents made mistakes but, as long as they loved them, there wasn’t anything that they could do to hurt their hypothetical children beyond repair.

Well, ‘hypothetical’ no more. A child was now a certainty.

Brushing his hand over the impossibly small outfit, his eyes were wide as he finally looked back at Maggie who’d been staring with bated breath, “Are you sure?”

“I think I’m about eight weeks.” Maggie’s hand rested unconsciously on her stomach as she waited for any response.

Brow furrowed, he counted back the days, “Wait, so we—”

“Pretty sure we did.” Maggie snorted, rolling her eyes at the serendipity of it all. It felt a little silly or cliché, to have conceived during their honeymoon, especially when she knew far too many people who’d spent months or years trying. “Who knew you had super sperm too—”

She was cut off by him gently setting the box aside and guiding her lips to his with a gentle hand on the back of her head. His tongue swept over her bottom lip, begging for entry which she granted with a pleased hum. Finally pulling away, he dropped to his knees between hers as she sat on the couch.

Silently, his eyes asked for permission as he gently reached for the hem of her sweater. Teary-eyed, Maggie nodded her ascent as she sat up and rested her hands on his shoulders. Pushing the soft cashmere up over her warm skin, his eyes were wide as he looked at her tummy. It was still mostly flat but there was the tiniest bump that could have passed for bloating if he hadn’t known any better.

Eyes wide with wonder, Bucky’s large hands spanned over her soft skin as he grinned through wet eyes, “Hey there.” His voice was quiet but thick with tears as he pressed a kiss just below her bellybutton, murmuring to the growing thing that had taken up residence within his wife’s stomach, “Hi, baby. I’m your dad.” Maggie wiped at her eyes with a sniffle as he added, “We can’t wait to meet you.”

Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against her belly as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that they’d soon be parents. Brushing a hand over his hair, Maggie leaned over to press a kiss to the top of his head.

It was funny how she’d somehow gotten everything that she’d ever wanted in the most unexpected way.

March 16, 2026

She would get Bucky and Sam to use the word ‘friend’ to reference the other one, sooner or later. Coworkers didn’t purchase houses near the other so that they could be closer, they didn’t call daily or share beers on a weekly basis to catch up, and they certainly didn’t name the other as a godparent to their unborn children.

House hunting had gone swimmingly for the soon-to-be parents. There’d been no question of ‘where,’ when they’d decided to start anew somewhere outside of the city. Bucky had loved Delacroix from his very first visit and Maggie had fallen for the little community soon thereafter—Sam’s presence was just something of a bonus.

It was a big, old house that had been constructed more than a hundred years before; as they’d read about it, Maggie had taunted her husband that they’d finally found an artifact that made him look young, before running away from his amused grumbles as he chased after her.

The house had more than enough space for the two of them—it was unspoken, but they certainly knew what could be done with at least two of the spare bedrooms.

Knowing where they were going had made everything so easy when it came to planning their lives. A colleague had gotten her in touch with a university in New Orleans and come the following spring semester, she would begin work as an assistant professor. As for Bucky, with the help of Sam and Pepper, Maggie had pushed him into creating a nonprofit for veterans who’d been injured in action like him.

As much as the bureaucratic part of the work aggravated him, he actually found that he enjoyed every other facet of the job—talking with the men and women who had all been bonded in such a specific way, seeing others make the same journey he had. And, in conjunction with some friends that Sam had, it was something that they could spread across the country.

Full boxes that had been painstakingly packed and labeled had been placed in each of the appropriate rooms in the mostly-empty house. Carrying one of the lighter ones that had been labelled ‘towels,’ Maggie used her hip to bump the door open. Before she could even step into the house, she felt the weight lift from her arms as a familiar voice murmured happily, “I’ll take that.”

“Samuel, I swear to god.” Maggie started, narrowing her eyes at the tall man with an annoyed groan as he walked away. It wasn’t the first time that she’d had a box taken from her since they’d begun unloading the moving truck that morning.

“Bucky’s orders!” He called over his shoulder in defense as he carried it down the hall to the bathroom.

Ever since Maggie had told him about their surprise two months earlier, Bucky had been waiting on her hand and foot. At first, it had been endearing—he’d been like a mother hen as he ensured she was comfortable or that she had everything she needed—but it had soon become overbearing, and she was going to go crazy sooner or later.

Their scans placed her somewhere around sixteen weeks and she was only just beginning to show—finally, she’d needed to purchase maternity clothing. Every time Bucky looked at her belly, or caressed it, or gave it an affectionate glance, she had a suspicion that if he could have her wrapped in bubble wrap and under his supervision at all times, he would.

“It was a bunch of towels!” Maggie defended incredulously as she followed him down the hall with a huff, “I don’t give a fuck that I’m pregnant or that you’re Captain America. I will still kick your ass.

Sam looked at her placatingly as he placed the unopened box on top of the counter, “And usually that would be enough to get me on your side, but I think Robocop has reached his final form and if anything happens to you, he’ll hunt me down and shoot me dead.”

“Bucky!” Maggie complained with a whine as the man in question finally entered the room, carrying three heavy boxes that had been stacked atop one another. Gesturing to her stomach, she implored, “I’m not due anytime soon. Let me do something.”

“Nope,” Bucky popped the ‘p’ as he gently sat the boxes on the floor, “You’re growing our little bug, that’s more than enough.” Brushing an affectionate hand over her t-shirt covered bump as he left the room, he added quickly, “Besides, we’re almost done!”

Glaring at his back, Maggie grumbled under her breath as she began sorting through some of the boxes that Bucky had brought in, “Would’ve been done sooner if you’d just let me help!”

Moving to pick up one of the ones that had been placed on the floor, she was stopped with an “Ah!” from her friend.

The brown cardboard was taken from her hands as Sam teased, “You heard the man, little mama.”

“I hate you.” Maggie growled, irritated as he easily lifted it and placed it on the counter before her.

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the wall and watched in amusement as she rummaged through the contents within the box as he countered, “You can’t hate your own kid’s godfather.”

It had been a given when the couple had been picking their future children’s godparents. Poppy had been Maggie’s best friend for more than twenty years—it would have been blasphemous to make any other choice on her part—and Sam was Bucky’s best friend, even if he wouldn’t admit it. They’d agreed without any hesitation even if the bundle of joy wasn’t expected for another five months.

“But I can revoke your title.” She threatened without any heat, playfully brandishing a candleholder at the nation’s hero as she continued to unpack.

“Touché, Hall.” Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he chuckled.

From down the hall, the friends heard a muffled curse, a thump, and a correction of, “Barnes!” that made both of them smile.

Sam shrugged innocently, “Old habits die hard.”

“I think you just like bugging him.” Maggie shook her head with a small smile as she gestured for Sam to remove the old box from the counter and replace it with another full one, if she couldn’t do it herself.

“That too.” He agreed, chuckling as he appeased her request.

August 4, 2026

Sweaty hair was plastered to her forehead, her was body numb from her navel to her toes, and a profound exhaustion had settled deep into her bones, but none of it mattered as the nurse gently placed their baby on her chest. It was sometime in the late evening—she’d been in labor since early that morning, but it was like every moment of pain and fear was washed away as she automatically cradled the newborn to her body.

“Hi Henry.” Maggie whispered, sniffling as she stared down at him with teary eyes. Her other hand blindly reached for Bucky who grabbed it, lacing their fingers together and pressing a kiss to her temple as she murmured, lovestruck, “He’s got your eyes.”

“Hopefully everything else is yours, peach.” Bucky chuckled through his own tears. In his wildest dreams, he never could have imagined this. It all felt so complete—love, a family, an entire life where he finally got to decide. It was more than he ever knew he wanted.

Henry stared up at them with wide, ocean blue eyes, having quickly settled down once being placed on his mother’s chest. Comforted by her smell and warmth, he’d stopped crying and had instead turned to gurgling inquisitively as he finally put faces to the voices that had been speaking to him for the past nine months.

Brushing the back of a warm finger over Henry’s cherubic cheek, he exhaled softly, “He’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Maggie agreed. As he squirmed against her, she cooed quietly, “It’s okay, honey. Mommy’s right here. Daddy’s here. You’re okay, sweet boy.”

Watching how easily she adjusted their son, knowing exactly what he needed before he could even make a sound, Bucky wondered if this was what it felt like to fall in love all over again. Even in the thin, cotton gown, with the three-inch binder that contained her birthing plan and more emergency information than anyone could ever need, and dark circles under her eyes, he couldn’t have been more in love.

“You did so good, doll.” He murmured, gently tilting her head to look up at him for just a second as he reminded her with a soft, hazy golden look behind his eyes before brushing his lips with hers, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Maggie whispered, resting her forehead against his in a moment of quiet.

Things wound down soon after Henry Phillip Barnes had made his entrance into the world. The maternity ward was quieter than it had been all day—there were no beeping monitors, no nurses coming in or out. It was finally just their little family, alone and in a perfect, blissful bubble together.

After convincing him that he wouldn’t squish her or Henry, Maggie had finally gotten Bucky to lay in the small bed with her. His chin rested on her shoulder as he cuddled her from behind, his eyes still trained on the sleeping bundle that Maggie had hardly let go of since its arrival.

The only times she’d relinquished her hold were when Bucky had held him and when the doctors needed to do a quick test—even then, she hadn’t allowed anyone to take him from their room.

“I don’t want to stop staring at him.” She whispered, looking at the way Henry’s little hand had wrapped around Bucky’s index finger; he could barely grasp it, but he refused to let it go as he slept soundly. “He’s so tiny.”

“I know.” Bucky’s voice was still so filled with wonder, and it made her smile sleepily.

“It’s so weird.” Exhaling a soft laugh, Maggie gently readjusted the soft blanket that Henry had been swaddled in, “He was in my belly for nine months and now he’s here and I…” Trailing off, she gave a little shrug as she whispered her fear to the only other person in the world who would understand, “I don’t want to blink because I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“Nothing will happen to him, doll. Not when he has us.” Bucky tried to quell his wife’s fears and held her just a little closer, careful not to squeeze her sore body too tightly, as he took a deep breath, “I’d do anything for him,” Pressing his lips to her warm shoulder, he added softly, “And you.”

Pressing a kiss to his forearm that was wrapped around her front, she finally peeked over her shoulder and gave him a tired smile, a little sparkle in her eye as she suggested, “We should have another.”

Chuckling, he nodded but looked back at the newest member of the Barnes family, “Let’s give him some time before we make him into a big brother.”

January 25, 2027

“Are you sure it’s alright?” Maggie worried her bottom lip, her knuckles white as she gripped the travel mug of coffee tightly in her hand. It was her first day of classes and she’d cursed the way that she had ignored any and all advice to practice leaving the house without Henry before she actually had to go to work for the first time.

Five months had passed in the blink of an eye, it was finally time, and she’d been dreading it. It felt like her chest was tight as she looked down at the sleeping baby who was strapped to his father’s chest, completely blissful and milk-drunk from his breakfast. The carrier wrapped around her husband’s broad shoulders and chest, securing their son to his warm protector.

He wore the little, stretchy cotton carrier almost more often than Maggie—and her phone was filled with pictures of the proof. Her favorite was her wallpaper; her two boys napping on the couch, the light green fabric securing them to one another as an elderly Alpine happily rested on Bucky's lap. It was the cutest fucking thing she’d ever seen.

“Baby, I promise it will be fine.” Bucky bounced absentmindedly as Henry readjusted against his father’s chest, soothed by the heavy heartbeat he felt.

Frowning, she double checked her work bag as she rattled off with her brows drawn anxiously, “Just, make sure you call me when he wakes up, and when he eats. I pumped earlier and it’s in the fridge and all the bottles are clean and sanitized—oh! And make sure you tell me when he poops. Dr. Miller said—“

“I can’t keep you on the phone all day, Mags.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he handed her the car keys from where they’d been hung on the wall, “I promise I will let you know everything, okay?”

“Okay.” She exhaled heavily, peeking down at their sleeping son again. “Maybe I should just check—“

“You’re going to be late.” Cutting her off, he guided her to the front door with a hand on the small of her back. They both knew she would find some reason to stay if he didn’t make her leave. Leaning down, he gave her a chaste kiss and tucked a curl behind her ear, “Have a good day, okay? And tell me if any of those shitheads are hot for teacher. Can’t let anyone hit on my girl.”

Her laugh was what he’d been seeking, and he’d gotten it. Smiling, he held the door open and reminded her with a crooked smile, “We love you.”

“I love you both.” Brushing a hand over Henry’s mousy-brown hair-covered head, she nodded and took a deep breath before putting on a brave face and stepping outside.

May 16, 2028

A low voice floated through the dark room, and Maggie squeezed her eyes closed tighter, trying desperately to hang on to those last few threads of sleep that were still in her grasp. Motherhood had made her so much more attuned to the world around her as she slept, vastly decreasing the quality, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The quiet, rumbling voice was animated as it carried one half of a conversation and she couldn’t not pay attention to it. Blinking awake, the room around her was still dark as the moon’s light came through the sheer curtains over the window. The little alarm clock on her bedside table read just after midnight.

“That’s when I saw her, baby girl.” Bucky murmured to his wife’s very-pregnant belly, with a tired smile on his face as his fingers traced shapes over her skin, “She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my whole life. Strong and determined—and even if she was scared, it didn’t show. Your mama was on a mission, and nothing was gettin’ in her way; she was gonna help save the whole wide world for you and your big brother to grow up in.”

Reaching down, Maggie ran her fingers through her husband’s hair with a sleepy smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “What are you doing, goofball?”

Peeking up at her, he held a single finger to his lips and playfully shushed her, “Shh, Winnie and I are having a conversation.”

Raising an eyebrow, she yawned, “Oh, are you?”

“Mm, she’s got a lot to say. Just like you—a regular Chatty Kathy once you get her started.” Pressing his lips to her stretch-mark-streaked tummy, he murmured against the cocoa-butter scented skin, “Mommy’s awake, bug.”

Playing with the soft strands that she threaded her fingers through, she complained lightly, “Well, since you’re talking, can you ask her why she can’t sit somewhere aside from right on top of my bladder?”

“She’s comfy.” He defended with a shrug, his fingertips drifting over her skin and tickling gently.

“Is she?” Smiling, Maggie used her hands to push herself up with a soft grunt, “Well, she’s got a week then she’s getting evicted.” Rubbing a hand over her taut stomach that was forty-one weeks large, she murmured affectionately, “Big brother couldn’t wait to come out, but Miss Winnifred is taking her sweet time.”

Bucky took her cue as she held her hands out, pulling her to stand easily. The change in her center of gravity had made her life much more difficult, and he knew that she was incredibly annoyed by it, but he found everything about his pregnant wife endearing—the way she had to waddle from one place to another, the soft snores that came from her sleeping lips, the face she made when she smelled the coffee she used to love.

Returning from their ensuite, she grumbled through another yawn, “Apparently it’s not enough that I feel like a whale. I also have to pee constantly.”

“You look beautiful, baby.” His eyes were filled with warmth as she approached the bed, rolling her eyes at him but unable to hide her smile. He chuckled as she lowered herself back into bed, sighing in relief as the weight was relieved from her achy joints.

Unable to help himself, he dragged her closer and pressed a hot kiss just below her ear, “I love this body—making me a daddy, all over again.” Sighing at his warm touch, Maggie melted into him as he continued with a little smile, dragging the hem of her sleep shirt up slowly, “Maybe I should just keep you like this all the time.”

“Mm, slow your roll.” She giggled as he tossed her plain, maternity tank-top on to the floor, mumbling against his lips, “This little girl isn’t even here yet.”

“Can’t help that I love you so much,” He rested his forehead against hers; his light blue eyes, that she saw even when her own were closed, were soft as he whispered into the dark room, “I’m so glad I found you.”

She felt her entire body go warm as a heavy, unfettered love flooded every atom and molecule that made up her body and soul. Everything had led them here in the end. Every heart and bone break, every pain that had threatened to rip them apart, every moment they didn’t know that they’d get through—they’d survived.

Maybe everything made more sense in rearview when you could look back and finally see the forest for the trees. The whole picture was like some beautiful fresco telling a story from the beginning to end, of two people who were too stubborn to ask for help and didn’t know where their places in the world were until they found the other.

In each swipe of paint, there was loss and heartache, love and growth, but the canvas was finally full. Every stroke, both harmful and healing, of the paintbrush that told their story had been worth it in the end. There was nothing in the world that could ever make them give up the perfect peace that they’d finally found together.

This was it for them. This was home and there was only infinity ahead—but whatever came next, they had one another.

“I’m glad you found me too.”

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