#bucky enemies to lovers

[delaber]

@midnightramyeoncravings i feel you 😆

Snow (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Part 1: The Aftermath I

Story summary: Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.

Words: 2.5K

Note: Enemies to lovers with a good dash of "only one bed"-trope and I'm not even sorry! This was supposed to be a silly little one shot but it turned into a multichapter fic that will be updated weekly. Hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want me to tag you in the upcoming parts.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Day one

Because you knew exactly how he would react if you let just the slightest trace of discomfort slip past your lips, you had made a tough decision hours ago; keep quiet and don't give him the satisfaction of knowing you were in agony! But the muscles of your chest were getting tighter and tighter from withholding whimpers of dull pain as your feet cramped in the cold snow, and when a particularly tenacious cramp hit your right calf, an accidental whine escaped your throat before you'd had a chance to stop it - and just as you had predicted, he snapped...

"If you'd only listened to me, we wouldn't be stuck out here!" Bucky hissed venomously from over his shoulder as he trotted a path for you to follow. "But no, no, no!" he angrily pushed a few branches away from his path, "God forbid little miss sunshine should actually follow orders! Of course Sam's favourite girl had to screw things up!"

For some reason you couldn't quite put your finger on, Bucky had been like this since the day you'd met him; somehow always more annoyed with you than you'd ever seen him with anyone else, always snapping at you, ready to bite your head off if you did or said just the tiniest thing he disagreed with. It was infuriating admiring his kindness from afar, seeing how soft and charming he was towards anybody but you, but in his eyes, you never could do anything right.

"Hey, I just saved your life, asshole!" you bit back, struggling to keep up with him as your legs numbed more and more with each passing step.

"You didn't save a single thing, princess," Bucky snarled, the demeaning nickname cutting through you like hard glass.

"Stop calling me that!" you hissed angrily and had to take a deep breath to keep yourself from throwing a snowball after his stupidly broad back, "You know I hate it!!"

"Then stop acting so fucking self-entitled! I was doing perfectly fine until you decided to interfere!"

"Interfere?! I did not interfere!" your blood was boiling, "you do realise that Sam sent us both on this mission, right? No matter how much you hate working with me, you are not on a solo cruise here!"

"I think you're forgetting that I've been doing fine on all my other missions without your so-called help, sweetheart!" He hissed back, the sarcastic nickname ringing so harshly against in your ears that it almost made you punch something in tired frustration.

"And I think you're forgetting that I actually managed to land the Quinjet you were about to crash, big guy!"

"Congratulations on a job well-done!" he said sarcastically with a loud huff, "- we ran out of fuel because of your little manoeuvre!"

"Fine! Next time I'll just let you crash!"

"Good! Then I won't end up stranding in fucking nowhere with you!"

You had to hold back the string of curse words that were about to slip past your lips - you knew from experience that retaliating his harsh words with childish remarks only made both of you furious to the point where Sam sometimes had to step in to calm you down - but Sam wasn't here now, so you had to behave.

Fuelled by rage, Bucky walked faster and faster through the cold snow and even though you were doing your best to keep up so he wouldn't have yet another thing to yell at you about, your cramping calves were slowing you down considerably. "Will you hurry the hell up?" he snarled at you, "we need to get to the safe house before it gets dark."

"I am walking as fast as I can!"

"Well walk faster, princess!"

"Stop calling me that!" you yelled, "it's not my fault that I don't have super serum to keep me agile in this weather! I'm only human!" you hissed, immediately regretting your words when you saw how his entire body came to an abrupt halt.

For the first time in hours, he turned around, his long chestnut hair falling elegantly around his stubbled cheeks as he sent you a venomous look, "-and I'm not?!" his nostrils were dilated and his beautiful ice blue eyes more piercing than normal as he angrily gazed at you. On several occasions, you'd thought to yourself that it was a shame that such handsome features were wasted on his anger.

"That's - that's not what I meant!" You gulped, slowly realising that you'd found one of his trigger points. "- I know you're just as human as I am..."

He shot you a pained look and huffed loudly before he turned back around, picking up his pace again. "Come on!" He spat, angrier than ever before.

"I didn't mean it like that!" You tried as you half-ran to keep up with him, "I swear, Bucky, I didn't! I don't know why I said that."

"Yes you do!"

"No, I really just-"

"-Do you think you can walk and shut up at the same time, princess?" He interrupted you.

Oh, how you wanted to throw that goddamn snowball in his face. "Fucking prick," you muttered under your breath, fighting your way through some ice-covered shrubs.

"I heard that!" he growled.

"Well I said it out loud, didn't I?!" You hissed childishly and pushed a frozen branch out of your way, watching his squared shoulders as he annoyingly effortlessly moved through the deep blanket of heavy snow.

You walked in intense silence until the sun went down where the only audible sounds were the crunching footsteps in the snow along with your clattering teeth and your occasional whimper of discomfort that Bucky either couldn't hear or deliberately chose not to comment on. He was still moving annoyingly effortlessly through the heavy snow, but you, however, could feel the energy slowly leave your frozen limbs, and you were having more and more difficulty moving your muscles at all. You'd spent the last few miles contemplating how to ask him for a short break but just when you'd finally plucked up the courage to suggest one, Bucky stopped dead in his tracks as he overlooked a small clearing in front of him.

"Finally," he muttered to himself before picking up his pace again. "We're here."

Excited that you'd finally reached the old S.H.I.E.L.D safe house, you picked up your pace as much as your aching muscles allowed you to until a small, moss-covered log cabin came into view. Bucky had already reached the porch, and you watched as he kicked open the wooden door with a loud bang and walked inside with a somewhat disappointed sigh. Desperate for some well-deserved rest, you followed him inside, but was immediately overcome with the same feeling of disappointment when you realised that the cabin held no inner walls and that you were forced to sit and stare at Bucky's sour face until Sam came to the rescue. Great.

Bucky determinedly walked to the other end of the cabin, picked up the receiver of an old landline and agitatedly pressed the buttons a few times. "Line's dead," he huffed and reached into his breast pocket, pulling out his mobile, "- and I still don't have reception."

You followed his lead and pulled out your phone too, your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach when you couldn't even turn on your screen. "No battery," you muttered to him, "the cold probably killed it."

"Great!" Bucky barked, "we're stuck here!"

"Calm down," you reached into your backpack with almost numb fingers and pulled out a small amulet with a green light. "Sam has a tracker on me," you looked hopefully at the light flashes.

"Sam has a...?" Bucky blinked a few times, clearly in shock for a few seconds before his face shifted back to being belligerent, "- of course loverboy has a tracker on you!" He fumed and turned his back to you, walking away without sparing you another glance.

"Loverboy? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing!" He spat and ripped open the front door stepping back outside in the snow.

"Wait - are you leaving?" your voice was shrill as you angrily stared after him.

"I'm going for firewood!" he huffed, "do see if you can contain yourself from causing more harm, doll."

"What the hell is your problem?" You yelled after him as he slammed the door shut behind him, disappearing back into the cold with angry footsteps. Cursing him under your breath, you put down your backpack in the corner and made sure that Sam's tracker was lying freely in the windowsill so nothing would block the signal. Already dreading the long hours in Bucky's draining company, you settled in for an agonisingly long waiting period, and angrily wrapped yourself in every blanket you could find to try and heat up your shaking body.

Bucky came in ten minutes later, a basket full of firewood cradled in his strong arms. Still annoyed, he ran his eyes over your form on the sofa before curling his face up in an unimpressed glare. "Glad to see your Royal Highness is comfortable," he grumbled and lit a match from the emergency kit in his backpack, throwing it onto the logs he'd just thrown in the fireplace.

"Shut up," your teeth clattered slightly as the flames quickly spread over the dry logs, engulfing the entire cabin in a warm orange hue.

With an annoyed sideways glance over at you, Bucky stood up from the floor before he aggressively yanked a cushion free from the other end of the sofa and placed it on the floor in front of the fire, throwing himself down on it with a loud grunt.

"You're seriously so angry with me you're going to sleep on the floor?" You arched an eyebrow and wrapped yet another blanket around your body, desperate for more heat.

"Yep," he said shortly and folded his muscular arms over his chest before closing his eyes.

"You're not serious..."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Oh, don't you worry; you look angry as ever!"

"Good!"

"Oh, come on..." you rolled your eyes at him, "you're really only punishing yourself, you know."

"Goodnight."

"...do you want a blanket at least?"

"No," he growled, "I wouldn't want to upset her majesty!"

"Suit yourself," you huffed and stretched your legs down the length of the sofa, making sure your entire body was covered by the slightly mouldy blankets as you tried to relax your sore muscles.

You could feel the heat from the fire radiating through the many layers of plaid, but no matter how long you lay in front of the flames, it was as if the warmth didn't quite reach your bones. Slowly, you started shaking, your teeth clattering loudly in the dark as you pulled the blankets closer and closer around your body.

"Could you shut up for two seconds?" Bucky growled from the floor after what seemed like an eternity, "I'm trying to sleep."

"I-I c-can't," you stuttered, "I'm - I'm s-s-so cold!"

"I don’t care," he mumbled, “put on another blanket.”

"W-we don't h-have m-more blankets."

He looked up at you and ran his gaze over your body, "you've got to be kidding me," he rolled his eyes, "you're covered in twenty-something blankets and you're still cold?"

"I-I know," you whimpered and kicked your legs as you tried to get rid of a hard cramp, accidentally hitting him in the back in the process, "ah f-fuck! S-sorry. It's m-my calves. They're s-so c-cold they're c-c-cramping."

"Jesus Christ," Bucky sighed and got up from the floor, immediately pulling off his Kevlar vest, throwing it to the side. "Take off your clothes," he demanded while unzipping his jacket and letting it join his vest on the floor.

"M-my clothes?" you watched in awe as he pulled his long-sleeved t-shirt over his head, slowly revealing chiselled abs, hard pecs, and enticing metal that glinted in the dancing flames from the fire.

He looked you dead in the eye as his fingers fiddled with the zipper and button of his trousers. "Yes," he grunted, completely unfazed by the fact that he had just pulled down his cargo pants, suddenly standing in front of you wearing only a pair of grey boxers. Slightly ashamed that you'd been caught staring at his near-naked body, you quickly looked away from him, small patches of warmth slowly growing larger on your cheeks because shit, Bucky looked good! It really was a shame he was such an asshole, or you would've jumped his bones ages ago.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He crossed his huge arms with a huff, the onyx and gold glinting tantalisingly in front of you, "- I saw you earlier," he nodded towards you, "you're soaked, it's no wonder you're freezing!"

"I-I'm not un-undressing for you," you shook your head, "n-no way."

"Stop flattering yourself, sweetheart," he rolled his eyes, "I'm just trying to get you home to Sammy in one piece. I really don't care about seeing your underwear."

For a second or two you wondered if this was some sort of twisted joke, but then you reminded yourself that even though Bucky may be unreasonable and childish towards you, he wasn't cruel. "O-okay... L-look aw-away then," you gulped and waited for Bucky to turn around before you started pulling on the front zipper of your wet tactical suit. You stripped down to your underwear, one eye always on Bucky's back, watching as the muscles of his shoulders tensed more and more with every breath he inhaled. Although he pretended otherwise, this was clearly awkward for him too.

"O-okay," you nodded after you'd re-wrapped yourself in one of the blankets, "y-you can l-look now."

Bucky slowly turned around and sat down on the sofa next to you, respectfully avoiding looking directly at you. "Scoot over," he demanded and pushed himself down behind you, kicking your legs straight and pressing his body up against yours, his burning hot chest immediately connecting with the cold skin of your back.

"W-wh at the h-hell are you d-doing, Barnes?" Your teeth were still clattering although you immediately felt the effects of his abnormally warm body pressed up against yours.

"Keeping you warm," he grunted and threw his arm around you, "if you fall asleep like this, you're not waking up."

"Y-you'd like that, wouldn't you," you mumbled but still felt yourself snuggling backwards into his warm chest.

"Yes of course," he pressed his fingers in on your lower ribs, pulling you closer, "absolutely nothing I'd rather want than to be rid of you... But I'm pretty sure Sam would kill me if I came home empty-handed."

"He'd definitely think you did it on purpose," you mumbled into your pillow as the comfortable heat radiating from his body slowly warmed up your frozen bones. "Hey... uhm - thanks, Barnes..."

"Don't thank me yet," he mumbled sleepily, "you still have to survive the night."

"Shut up."

"Go to sleep."

Next part

[starsoverbrooklyn]

just the headline, doll: confession in the middle of an argument. (#2/30) starring... Avenger!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader storm ahead, sweetheart: affection shielded by distaste. grumpy x grumpy. a sprinkle of a couple swear words for good measure. inked just for you: 479 a word from yours truly: please accept my late work, i wrote the bulk of it yesterday. p.s. send help b/c why are micro arguments so hard to wrap up? hope you enjoy! ♡⋆｡°✩ -rrinnie

“You need to put about five more steps between us, Barnes. ‘Cause you’re about two seconds—and one more breath down my neck—away from getting rocked.” 

He knew better than to push when you were genuinely pissed, but in his defense, you’d been impossible since the moment you graced the world with your presence this morning. He’d actually managed to wake up in a half-decent mood, bearing peace offerings of espresso and a few of your favorite pastries from a bakery nestled in the heart of the bustling city, hoping they would smooth over your past (and very frequent) disagreements. 

But when his rare acknowledgment of ‘good morning’ fell flat to your grumbled, dismissive ‘what’s so great about it?’—it knocked him straight onto his bruised ego and set the tone for the day. It wasn’t often he looked forward to being partnered with someone, but it didn’t take long for you to remind him why.

He scoffs lowly, but his feet slow to heed your warning. “That’s a little aggressive. If only you’d channel that kind of energy into watching your own back, I wouldn’t have to do it for you.”

That stops you in your tracks and he stumbles to a halt to keep from knocking into you. 

“Do it for me—?!” You face him, eyes narrowed and blazing with frustration at the blatant audacity. “You’re kidding, right? You’re like fucking velcro to my hip the minute you spot guns. Not only does it slow me down, it makes you a lousy shot! So do us both the favor and save your trust issues for Raynor. I can handle myself.”

His jaw set, the intensity of his glare enough to make anyone else think twice about their tone—but never you.

When you move to take off again, he stays put, the gentle whirring of his metallic arm reaching out to lightly grasp yours. 

“Because God forbid someone actually gives a damn about you, right?” he mutters, his voice low and strained like the words were clawing their way out.

He doesn’t let your surprise settle into silence. Taking a step closer, his grip remains loose, offering you the option to break free. Frustration still ghosts his features, but it’s softer—teetering desperation. 

“It’s not about trust,” he continues, voice rough. “You’re… infuriatingly headstrong. You fight like you calculate for everything—like you’re invincible. But you’re not. And I can’t—“ He cuts himself off, jaw ticking. “If something happened to you, and I could’ve stopped it…” He trails off, the unspoken words hanging heavy between you.

Your expression remains unreadable—even to someone who has spent lifetimes dissecting human vulnerability, often at his own hands.

Then, a smile—satisfied and sheltered by the strategic turn of your head. “Oh Sarge, you really do care.”

Bucky exhales sharply, stepping around you and continuing to the interception point.

“Yeah, don’t read too much into it, sweetheart.”

[kurogxrix]

The Perfect Girl

Bucky barnes x reader

IN WHICH You’re the strange girl Sam is friends with, and Bucky has no other choice but to tolerate you.

Warnings: short drabble, one sided enemies to lovers typa vibes, reader has dyed hair.

WC: 1.2k

Bucky never quite understood why Sam had ever taken a liking to you. He couldn’t comprehend it. You, the strangest girl he’d ever met in his entire 106 years of living. You, the girl that didn’t and certainly would never fit in with the rest of the avengers if they were still there, the people Bucky considered family. You, the weirdest chick that managed to get on his nerves more than Sam did, and that said a lot.  Bucky was practically sure that you were from another world.

You’d just spawned into his life one day, because of Sam, and now you were stuck there like a leech and you refused to leave the poor super-soldier alone. Bucky had grown to be the quiet, more reserved and grumpy man who enjoyed his personal space, and you were the damned limpet he couldn’t quite detach from himself, loud and cocky. You reminded him of that other dude with the red suit and the always-bloody swords. Just the thought of you two together in a room made him shudder, he couldn’t even bear to imagine the chaos. 

Nevertheless, Bucky stuck with Sam now, even if he never verbally baptized the Falcon as his best friend, and Sam’s heart was always too big for his own good. If hanging out with Sam often meant he had to see you, then so be it, as long as you stayed a considerable distance from him. But that was never really the case. 

Now as Bucky stood in Sam���s and Sarah’s familial house back in Louisiana, surrounded by the boys he’d even go as far as saying that he considered his nephews, Bucky had never felt more at peace. The sound of the soft waves crashing upon the shore and the boat side that he and Sam had spent all afternoon fixing lulled him. 

Bucky sat on the sofa beside Sam, quietly sipping a glass of whiskey while listening in to the playfully sibling’s banter going on before him. AJ and Cass’ childish laughter rang around the room as they listened in as well, filling Bucky’s heart with a feeling he was just starting to accept. Everything was perfect, the light was low, soft jazz playing in the background as he sipped his cup. Nothing could disturb his night, well nothing except- 

“I’m heeeeere!” the abruptness of your voice sank in, followed by the hast twist of the front door knob as you walked in like you owned the place. ‘What a pleasant surprise’ Bucky thought, rolling his eyes as he watched the twins run up to you in a hurry. Deep down, Bucky knew that he had no right to feel this way, this was not his home as much as it wasn’t yours, and if it bothered him so much the best he could do was leave. 

But how could he? How could he leave when he’d never felt more comfortable before. 

Bucky's piercing blue eyes observed as you reached both arms down to hug the boys at the same time, Sarah approaching you to help you get rid of that huge bag you wore on your shoulder, threatening to slip off and crush one of the boys in return. That radiating smile just wouldn’t wash off of your face, and it seemed like it had already infected Sam. But yet again, when wasn’t he smiling? 

“Awww, you’re staring! I’m so flattered.” The sound of your teasing shook Bucky right off whatever trance he’d gotten caught in, and when his eyes met yours again, he hated the teasing glint that swam in your iris. Dyed strands of hair framed your face as it swayed gently with the door that remained open behind you, reminding Sarah to kick it closed.

Bucky rolled his eyes, paying you no mind as he lowered his eyes right back down to his drink. He ignored Sam’s calling and the deafening sound of your laughter as you both teased him, trying to gauge a reaction out of him. 

Albeit it was hard to ignore you when you were dressed like this. Not that it was anything revealing or promiscuous, hell no, the mere thought of you in that way repulsed Bucky to no end. He prefered classy girls, maybe a piece of his old self he hadn’t let go of yet, and you were everything but that. You were just so strange, dressed like a teenager stuck in an adult body with the personality of a quirky cartoon character. God, he couldn’t fucking stand you. The thought of you gave him a migraine, and he had to physically rub his temples as your voice played out in echo in his head. 

“You ignorin’ me?” the sound of your voice, oh so close his ear nearly made Bucky jump up on his seat. He’d never give you that satisfaction though, and his face remained the typical stoic it did whenever he’d see you. The former Winter Soldier could almost feel Sam’s mischievous gaze on him as he turned to face you, coming face to face with the bushy head of dyed hair he claimed to hate so much. 

No, Bucky couldn’t stand you and your strangeness, so why did he feel his heart pick up the pace at the sight of that teasing smile upon your lips? The corners of your mouth tilting up like it always did, besides the lip piercing he’d never seen before. When did you get it? Why had he never noticed? The eyeliner you wore was slightly smudged, had the weather done that? or had another pair of hands disturbed the peace-

“You’re so weird, do you always stare like that?” Your words seem to bring Sam to an endless laughter, encouraging the twins to join in the fun against ‘uncle Bucky’. Sarah took it as her queue to leave the room, pacing to the kitchen to check on the roast with a playful roll of her eyes. The house was so lively, and even if your bickering and loud personality always ended up with the neighbors pulling up on you, she’d take it over the loneliness of a half-empty house anyday. 

“Yeah, says the one” bucky resorted dryly, carefully glaring at his companion with a killer side-eye. Bucky heard you gasp “And so he speaks!!”. 

“Awww, don’t get shy on me Bucky, i won’t eat you” You leaned on one arm as you perched yourself to get closer to his face, Bucky could feel himself recoiling at the broken sense of his personal space. Though as you sat there before him, teasing him while adorned in those awfully out-of-age clothes and that makeup he said wasn’t his style, Bucky felt something he hadn’t felt in years. Proper years, not like what he felt for his buddy Sam, not what he felt for the twins every time they’d ask if they could swing from his serum-enhanced arms, but something far deeper than that. 

And maybe Bucky was just embarrassed to admit that it scared him more than anything else. He was a former assassin, for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t be afraid of his own feelings. Nevertheless, Bucky remained silent as he watched you set off in the kitchen to help Sarah, leaving him and the rest of the boys to sit in the silence you’d left behind. 

And no, you wouldn’t eat him, but deep down he wished you would. 

-

A/n: re-reading my old fics and i miss the way i used to write

:(

[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds

The GIF is not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : You recently joined the Avengers, and everyone has accepted you except for Bucky. Now, the challenge lies in proving him wrong, but can you succeed changing his mind and earn his trust? Or do you have to do more to earn it? (geez, I’m suck at this)

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

TW: SMUT, 18+, strong language, enemies-to-lovers-ish, oral (m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation (slut calling), slight choking, orgasm denial

Word Count: Around 10k (I know it's a bit long, I got carried away. Sorry) → smut is like 4k hehe

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story, and it’s a smut one at that. English isn't my first language, so apologies for any mistakes or bad grammar. I hope you still enjoy the story!

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 1 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You've always been a dependable agent ever since you were young, someone who could handle the toughest missions without letting your emotions get in the way. Nick Fury spotted your potential when you were just a kid, taking you under his wing. It was his belief in you that kept you going, and it all led to the thrilling moment when he thought it was time for you to join the Avengers. After all those years of hard work, it felt like a dream come true.

Then came your first day with the team. You'd just joined, and they wanted to see how good you were in a fight. You almost beat Natasha in a really intense battle, proving to everyone that you totally belonged with the Avengers. Your determination to show your worth never wavered. But there was this one guy, Bucky Barnes, who just couldn't seem to trust you no matter what.

On your first day with the Avengers, the training room buzzed with anticipation as you faced off against Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow. It was a test of your combat skills, a way to see if you had what it took to be part of Earth's mightiest heroes. The desire to become one of them, although it might sound cliché and cringey, burned within you.

The Avengers, including Nick Fury, Captain America, Iron Man, Winter Soldier, Hawkeye and Thor, watched from up above, all curious and eager to see how you'd do. Their faces showed they were rooting for you.

However, as you glanced upward to catch your breath, your eyes locked onto Bucky Barnes. He stood there, solitary and stern, arms crossed over his chest. His intense gaze bore into you, but unlike the other Avengers, his expression was far from encouraging. There was a deep skepticism in his eyes, a doubt that seemed unshakable, and it cast a shadow over your determination to prove yourself to the team.

Natasha, dressed in her familiar black outfit, gave you a serious look that made you stop staring up. When she spoke, you turned your attention to her. "Think you've got this, newbie?" she teased, a touch of amusement in her voice.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This was your moment to prove yourself, and there was no turning back. The weight of your new Avengers uniform felt both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. "I'm ready, Natasha.", you responded with determination. You weren't going to back down now.

Natasha grinned. "We'll see about that."

The two of you circled each other, and then, without warning, Natasha lunged at you with lightning speed. Her attack was quick and precise, but you were able to block it, thanks to your training. As the two of you sparred, the crowd cheered and shouted their support. It was a battle of wits and willpower, and neither of you was willing to give up.

"You're good," Natasha admitted, her voice dripping with genuine admiration. "But let's see how you handle this." With a fluid motion, she unleashed a series of acrobatic moves, flipping and twisting through the air before landing gracefully behind you.

You spun around to face her, sweat beading on your forehead. "Impressive, but I'm not done yet."

The fight continued, and you pushed yourself to keep up with Natasha's relentless assault. Your training and instincts kicked in, and you began to hold your own. It was a back-and-forth battle, each of you landing hits and dodging the other's attacks.

But Natasha was more experienced than you, and eventually, she managed to overpower you. She had you pinned to the ground, her face inches away from yours. You struggled against her grip, but she held you firmly in place. "Had enough?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gritting your teeth, you mustered all the determination you had left. "Not a chance," you replied, refusing to admit defeat.

The crowd went wild as Natasha delivered the final blow, knocking you out. She stood there, victorious, a small smile playing on her lips acknowledging your impressive performance. "Good fight," she said, extending a hand to help you up.

You accepted her hand, "Thanks, Natasha. You're incredible."

The room erupted in applause, and everyone from the observation deck descended to congratulate you. Fury, wearing a proud smile, gave you a warm hug. "Well done, Y/N. You're officially part of the team," he declared, his words filled with pride. He whispered, "I'm proud of you, Y/N," and it meant the world to you.

But amid the celebration with your new teammates, there was one person who didn't seem as thrilled. James "Bucky" Barnes, the Winter Soldier, stood in a quiet corner of the room, his expression inscrutable.

You had felt his presence throughout the entire match, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine. Bucky's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, then he turned and left the room, leaving you feeling more confused than ever.

Bucky went out of his way to undermine your confidence, pushing you to the brink of quitting time and time again. His words still fresh in your mind. "I don't think you're cut out for this, kid. This isn't a game. It's a matter of life and death. You’re not ready for this."

It hurt. You didn't understand why he was so determined to bring you down. What had you done to make him dislike you so much? Despite Bucky's relentless doubts, you refused to back down. You were determined to earn his respect, just as you had with the rest of the team.

So, every day, you trained harder, pushed yourself further, and proved your worth on every mission. Your hope was that one day, Bucky would finally see you for the capable agent you truly were and put his doubts to rest once and for all.

One day, as you were making your way to the gym, the sound of voices caught your attention. It was Bucky and Steve, engaged in a hushed conversation that seemed to revolve around you. Curiosity piqued, you tried to maintain a discreet distance, keen on hearing what they were saying. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Buck, I think you're being too hard on her. She's a good fighter and she's eager to learn," Steve argued.

Bucky's skepticism remained unshaken. "I'm just trying to watch out for the team. She's a liability, not ready for this kind of responsibility."

Steve being the optimist pushed back gently, his support for you evident in his tone. "I think you're the only one who feels that way."

Bucky's voice grew firmer as he explained his perspective. "She's only here 'cause Nick Fury vouched for her. There are others who deserve this chance more. I could name a couple who'd fit better on this team than her."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, casting doubt on your worthiness. It was difficult to hear that the person you looked up to and wanted to prove yourself to was actually against you, even though Bucky's argument was valid.

You couldn't help but question if your acceptance into the Avengers was indeed solely because of Fury. You had always believed that your spot on the Avengers was earned through your skills and dedication. Bucky's doubts made you second-guess if you had truly earned your place.

"Buck, there's more to it than that," Steve replied, his voice steady. "Just be patient with her."

Unable to endure the conversation any longer, your heart felt heavy as you turned away, doing your best to conceal the hurt that washed over your face. With resolve, you changed your course and headed towards the field track, hoping a run would help clear your mind.

Later, as the sun set on the horizon, you were still out running laps. Your thoughts were racing, and your body was aching, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

"You're gonna wear yourself out if you keep pushing like that."

You jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Bucky standing a few feet away, his arms crossed.

Caught off guard, you tried to put on a brave face. "I'm okay," you lied, attempting to hide the pain that was clearly etched on your face. Stopping abruptly had caused your feet to throb with discomfort.

Bucky, however, wasn't buying your façade. He narrowed his eyes, his concern deepening. "You're not. You're hurt."

In response, you shook your head stubbornly, your pride urging you to push through the pain. "I'll manage," you insisted, even though every step sent a sharp twinge through your feet.

Bucky's gaze remained sharp and unwavering. "You're not fooling anyone with that."

Deep down, you knew he was right. The pain was becoming harder to ignore, and your stubbornness could only take you so far. But in that moment, you weren't quite ready to admit defeat or show weakness, especially not to someone like Bucky.

Bucky took a step closer, his expression resolute. "Come on, we're heading inside," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I'm okay, I can-." You began to protest, but he interrupted you firmly, "Y/N, enough. This is an order. You're only making my job more difficult by trying to tough it out. Let's go, and I don't want to hear another word from you."

Reluctantly, you fell silent and went along with Bucky, allowing him to guide you back to the facility. As you walked, you couldn't help but mull over his earlier words, "You're making my job harder by trying to tough it out." It left you wondering why he cared or felt responsible for you, especially when you believed he disliked you.

Once inside, Bucky seated you and fetched a glass of water. Taking a sip, you felt a wave of relief as it helped ease some of your fatigue. Then, without uttering a word, Bucky briefly stepped away, returning in less than a minute with bandages and medicine in hand.

Your curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't resist asking, "What's all that for?" Your eyes were drawn to the medical supplies.

"Take off your shoes and socks," Bucky directed, his tone brooking no dissent.

"I don't think I need..." You began to protest, but a quick glance at Bucky's determined face made it clear that there was no room for discussion.

Letting out a sigh, you gave in and removed your shoes and socks. What you saw shocked you: your feet were in a terrible state, bleeding and covered with painful blisters, a clear result of your overly enthusiastic run.

You heard Bucky mutter a curse under his breath as he knelt down in front of you. "Bucky, seriously, I can handle it," you tried to protest, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Just stay put and let me take care of this." His voice was firm, and he got to work tending to your battered feet. Gently, he placed your feet on his lap, starting to clean the cuts on your soles. You winced slightly as the sting of the alcohol met the open wounds.

While he busied himself tending to your injuries, you found your gaze drifting to him. Bucky was undeniably handsome and hot, you couldn't help but appreciate his appearance. As your eyes met his, he suddenly looked up at you.

"Got something on your mind?" he asked, his expression as enigmatic as ever.

You blinked, realizing that you'd been staring. Heat crept into your cheeks as you stammered, "I, uh, have an issue with my shoes." You finally managed to say, though it wasn't exactly the eloquent response you'd hoped for.

Bucky, his expression unamused, retorted, "Well, that's clear." After he finished bandaging your wounds, he added, "But there's more to it than just your shoes."

"You can't be out here, pushing yourself so hard if you're going to injure yourself. This isn't a game. You must take care of yourself. You can't expect to get the full experience if you're going to hurt yourself." His words were harsh, but they were true.

"I know," you admitted with a sigh, guilt gnawing at you. "I just got caught up and lost track of time. It's not that bad."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Not that bad?" He challenged you. "Then stand up. Let's see how not that bad it really is."

Your cheeks burned. You could already feel the ache in your legs and the throbbing pain in your feet. But you refused to show any weakness. Not now. Not in front of him.

"Fine." With a determined look, you pushed yourself up from the chair, wincing as you put weight on your injured soles. Your feet stung, and your muscles were sore, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it.

Bucky couldn't help but scoff, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness and tendency to challenge him.  "You want to be part of this team, right?"

You nodded, your determination unwavering despite the discomfort. "Yeah, I do.”

"Then you need to stop being reckless and start acting like an Avenger. We can't afford to have someone on our team who's too stubborn to admit when they're injured. It's only gonna make things worse." he said firmly, taking a step closer to you. "Maybe you could start by, I don't know, following orders and not talking back every chance you get."

The harshness in his words took you by surprise, but they also cut deep. Because you knew he was right.

With that he left the room, leaving you behind to wallow in shame. You knew he was right. But it hurt, especially coming from him.

Weeks later, you received the news that you'd be joining the team on your very first mission. The excitement bubbled up inside you as you geared up for the assignment. But as the mission unfolded, things took a turn for the worse.

You spotted a group of enemies heading for a crowded area and impulsively decided to engage them without waiting for the team's signal or support. Your intentions were to protect the civilians, but your recklessness got the best of you. Your impulsive move led to a chaotic firefight, and in the midst of the chaos, a civilian stumbled into the line of fire, narrowly escaping harm.

Bucky, who had been keeping an eye on you, witnessed the entire sequence of events unfold. His anger and frustration boiled over as he watched you put not only yourself but also innocent bystanders in danger.

Inside the quinjet, as the mission concluded, he couldn't contain his fury any longer. "What the fuck was that, Y/N?!" he erupted, his voice echoing in the confined space.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame and regret.

"Sorry isn't good enough!" Bucky snapped, his intense gaze burning into you. You couldn't bear to meet his eyes, and instead, you cast your gaze downward, your hands trembling with the weight of your mistake.

"If you're gonna keep making mistakes like that, then maybe you don't belong on this team. You could've gotten someone killed back there." His words stung, but he was right.

Natasha stepped in to defend you, "Bucky, it was an accident, and it was her first mission. Everyone makes mistake.”

Bucky didn't back down. "Yeah, and accidents can cost lives, Nat. She need to be more careful," he retorted, glaring back at you. "You can't afford to be an idiot like that out there. What the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled, his anger getting the best of him.

Clint said, "Hey! Enough. She's done enough of a beating already, I know she can do better next time."

"There might not be a next time," Bucky grumbled.

Confusion and worry welled up inside you. 'What do you mean by that?' you wondered silently, unable to find your voice.

Bucky's frustration boiled over as he remarked, "Maybe she should think twice about putting others at risk if she can't handle it."

You turned your gaze away, determined not to let the tears fall. Tony took charge of the situation, his voice steady and reassuring. "Alright, that's enough," Tony declared firmly. "We're all on edge right now after what happened. We all know she can do better, and we'll address it later. For now, let's just concentrate on getting back home."

The rest of the ride was filled with tension, Bucky's glare never leaving you as you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Wanda noticed your discomfort and moved over to sit next to you. She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and asked gently, "How are you holding up?"

You appreciated Wanda's concern and gave her a small, grateful smile. "I'll be okay," you replied softly. "Just need some time to process everything. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Wanda patted your shoulder again, offering more comfort. "Mistakes are part of learning, especially on your first mission. Remember, the key is to learn from them and get better. Don't let Bucky's words get to you too much."

You let out a weary sigh, realizing the truth in her words. "Yeah, I know.”

The quinjet touched down on the landing pad, and a sense of relief washed over you as you realized you were finally back home. This was it. You were finally home. "We'll talk later, okay?" Wanda asked, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You nodded appreciatively at her and quickly made your way to your room. You wanted nothing more than to lock yourself away and forget the whole thing ever happened. But the guilt and shame were too much to bear.

About a month after the incident, news of another mission started to circulate rapidly around the Avengers' headquarters. The buzz of excitement and anticipation filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions—both excitement and anxiety. This mission was your chance to redeem yourself after the missteps on your first assignment.

Determined to discuss your readiness for this new mission, you sought out Steve. As you approached his office, you noticed him engrossed in reading some files. You gently knocked on the open door.

"Hi Steve, may I come in?" you asked politely.

Steve looked up from the files and offered you a welcoming smile. He promptly closed the documents and gestured for you to enter. "Of course, come in Y/N." You stepped into his office, and he continued, "How are you doing, by the way?" Steve motioned for you to take a seat, showing genuine concern.

You settled into the chair across from him and fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find the right words. "I'm good, better than what happened last time..." You paused, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry about last time..."

Steve's warm smile remained reassuring. "Hey, Y/N, that's okay. We all make mistakes," he said with a reassuring tone, "Don't beat yourself up too much about it, okay?" His kindness and understanding were a comfort, making you feel grateful for his leadership and support.

"So, what brings you here?" Steve asked with a welcoming smile.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "I heard there's another mission in 2 days..." After a pause, you continued, "But I haven't received the assignment or briefing for it..."

Steve's friendly expression faltered, and he sighed. "Y/N, about that..." He looked genuinely conflicted. "We already have teams assigned to cover that mission. You don't need to worry about it."

Your heart sank, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was becoming increasingly clear that you were being sidelined. "Is this because of what happened on the last mission?" You finally voiced your concern, your tone a mix of frustration and hurt.

Steve must've noticed the change in your tone. "Y/N, there'll be plenty of missions, and you'll definitely join the next one, okay?"

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, masking the pain that was gnawing at you. "Ah, okay, Steve." You chuckled, though it felt forced. "That's alright, I was just curious.”

Steve smiled weakly, but you could tell he understood your disappointment. "Y/N..."

You got up from the seat, disappointment heavy in your chest. You knew this was likely Bucky's doing. "Thank you, Captain, for the information. Good luck on the mission!" With that, you turned and left the room, trying to hide your frustration and disappointment.

As everyone prepared to leave for the mission, they bid you farewell, their expressions filled with sympathy. You knew they felt sorry for leaving you behind in the tower. Watching them depart filled you with a profound sense of sadness, knowing you couldn't join them.

You returned to your room, aimlessly flipping through the channels on the TV, but nothing captured your interest. Your mind kept wandering back to the missed opportunity, and the guilt and frustration gnawed at you.

After a futile attempt at watching TV, you tried to occupy yourself with a book, but the words on the pages blurred together as your thoughts remained fixated on the mission. With a sigh, you put the book down, realizing you were too distracted to read.

Restlessly, you paced around your room, contemplating various ways to improve your skills and prove that you were a valuable member of the team. Maybe you could spend some time in the training room or review combat strategies. You knew you had to keep pushing yourself to become better.

Eventually, you settled on the idea of practicing your marksmanship in the training room. Grabbing your gear, you headed there with determination in your step, determined to make the most of your time while the team was away on the mission.

Inside the gym, you started with some intense punching and kicking exercises. It felt great to release your anger, sadness, and disappointment through physical exertion. As you pummeled the sandbag, you couldn't help but imagine it as Bucky's face, channeling your frustration and resentment into each punch and kick. You unleashed your emotions on the inanimate object, giving it your all to cope with the overwhelming mix of feelings inside you.

Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the occasional tear, but you didn't let up. You wiped away the sweat and tears from your face. "What" punch "Do" punch "I" kick "Have" punch "To" kick "Do" punch "To" punch "Prove" punch "To" punch "You" kick "That" kick "I'm" punch "Just" kick "As" kick "Good" kick "As" punch "Them" punch kick punch kick.

Why were you treated this way? What had you done to earn Bucky's disdain? How could you prove your worth to him? Frustration boiled inside you, reaching its peak as you let out a guttural scream, causing the sandbag to plummet from the force of your final blow.

Panting, you collapsed on the gym floor, you were exhausted and emotionally drained, but you felt a strange sense of relief. You clenched and unclenching your fists. You flexed your fingers and winced as the pain shot through them.

You chose to ignore the pain and you slowly got up from the gym floor. You knew you had pushed yourself too hard, but it was the only way you could vent your frustration and anger.

Limping, you made your way towards the bench where you had left your belongings. The room felt heavy with the echo of your pounding. Your trembling hand found the familiar coolness of your water bottle, and you clutched it tightly, taking a long, refreshing gulp. The cool liquid soothed your parched throat.

Just as you were catching your breath, Bucky unexpectedly strolled into the room. His presence surprised you, you hadn't expected anyone else to be there, especially not him.

His gaze, sharp and perceptive, honed in on your movements, "Still trying to prove yourself, huh?" he remarked, his words hanging in the air like a challenge, his tone laced with doubt.

You met his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down even in the face of his skepticism. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone, including you," you replied, your voice steady despite the ache in your body. "I'm just making sure I'm ready for whatever comes our way. Maybe you should worry less about what I'm doing and more about why you're not on the mission with the rest of the team."

Bucky's expression remained inscrutable, his indifference a stark contrast to your determination. He nonchalantly shrugged, an aloof response to your pointed words.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, your frustration with him boiling over. "Whatever, Barnes. Keep your doubts to yourself."

You began packing up your belongings, a clear signal that you were ready to depart from his presence. You suspected he was still watching you, his intense gaze never wavering, but you wanted nothing more than to distance yourself from him. It felt like he was deliberately keeping you from the mission, and the resentment simmered within you.

After finishing packing, you headed towards the exit, but Bucky halted you by grabbing your hand. You turned around, irritation clear in your eyes. "What do you want, Barnes?" you snapped, trying to pull your hand away. “What the hell? Let me go!”

Ignoring your protest, he led you back to the training area, placing you in front of him. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach. Did he intend to spar with you? The uncertainty hung heavily in the air, making the atmosphere tense.

You stood your ground, your nervousness growing with every passing second. "What? Scared?" Bucky teased, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, refusing to let his taunts unnerve you. You managed a fake smile and replied, "Of you? No. Why would I be?" Determined not to show any fear.

Bucky's smirk widened as he said, "Well, you should be." He locked eyes with you and asked, "Ready?" The challenge in his tone was clear.

You took another deep breath, squared your shoulders, and met his gaze head-on. "Alright, Bucky. I'm game. What's the plan?" Your voice remained steady, even as your nerves continued to buzz beneath the surface.

Bucky's lips curved into a smirk. He motioned towards the training mats, his movements smooth and practiced. "Just try to land a hit on me."

Without a moment's warning, he lunged at you, his attack swift and precise. You barely managed to block it in time, the impact sending a jolt through your arms.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you felt a sting to your pride. "Just one hit?" you questioned, a mixture of disbelief and defiance in your voice. Did he genuinely doubt your abilities? Determination flared in your eyes as you prepared to prove him wrong.

He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't get ahead of yourself, doll. Come on, you're starting to bore me." You gritted your teeth and launched into your counterattack.

The atmosphere in the training room grew tense as you continued your attempts to land a hit on Bucky. Each time you launched an attack, he seemed to anticipate your every move, effortlessly blocking your punches and kicks. It was as if he had an innate ability to read your intentions, and it left you feeling frustrated and somewhat helpless.

With each failed attempt, Bucky's smirk grew wider, and he let out a low chuckle. "Come on, Y/N," he taunted, his tone dripping with playful mockery. "You've got to do better than that if you want to stand a chance."

His words stung, and they fueled your determination. You were well aware that Bucky was pushing your buttons, trying to rile you up, but you refused to let it show. You had a point to prove, not only to him but to yourself as well.

You decided to take another shot, launching into a new round of attacks, hoping to catch Bucky off guard. But just like before, he expertly caught your wrist each time, preventing your strikes from connecting. Frustration gnawed at you, and you let out an audible groan each time he effortlessly pinned your arms behind your back and pushed you back.

Bucky didn't hold back with his taunts either. "Is that the best you've got, doll?" he prodded, his gaze locked onto yours. "I've seen other recruits do better. What happened to all those praises they were singing about you?"

Taking a deep breath, you tried to surprise him with a sudden kick, but Bucky saw through your move. He even managed to catch your legs mid-kick, causing you to lose your balance and tumble to the ground.

His voice dripped with mock disappointment as he quipped, "Doll, I expected better than that. That was just plain bad."

You took a deep breath, frustration fueling your determination. This time, you decided to go all out. You lunged at him with full force, no holding back, hoping to land a solid hit. His dodge and blocks were frustratingly precise, but you didn't give in.

Finally, you managed to back him into a wall, and you saw an opening. You went for a powerful kick, but he swiftly caught your leg, pulling it towards him. Before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall, your front pressed firmly against the hard surface.

"Doll, nice try," Bucky said, his tone edged with approval, "but you've still got long ways to go."

You groaned as he pinned you to the wall, frustrated since you couldn't beat him. "Fuck!"

He chuckled lowly, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, his face mere inches from yours. "Language, sweetheart."

The feeling of his body pressed against yours sent tingles down your spine, and you tried to keep your breathing under control, your cheeks flushing.

Bucky seemed to notice your blush and couldn't resist a teasing remark. He leaned in even closer, his voice dripping with playful mischief. “What's the matter, doll? Is it too hot in here?" he teased, pressing himself closer to you.

Your blush deepened as he teased you, and you turned your head away from him, not able to meet his gaze. "You know what? You're seriously annoying."

Bucky's smile only grew wider, and he didn't let up. "Aw, come on, doll. Getting all worked up because you can't keep up?" he goaded, his warm breath tickling your neck. His face was even closer now, his eyes dark with a look you'd never seen before.

You huffed in exasperation, determined not to let his teasing get the best of you. "I can keep up just fine, thank you very much," you shot back, your competitive spirit coming to the forefront.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "Well then," he challenged, his tone inviting. "Prove it. Try to break free from my hold."

Your breath caught in your throat at the suggestion, a rush of adrenaline surging through your veins. "Okay," you agreed, your tone confident. You decided to take Bucky's challenge head-on.

With a swift and calculated move, you attempted to break free from his hold, using all the skills you had acquired during your training with the Avengers. Bucky, ever the skilled fighter, didn't make it easy, but you were determined not to give in.

You tried and tried, but you couldn't seem to break free from his strong hold. You were both sweating, the effort causing the air around you to grow thicker and heavier. You could feel his chest pressed against your body, muscles flexing as he maintained the firm grip he had on you.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you were both breathing heavily, neither of you willing to give in. In that moment, with your bodies pressed together and the heat between you almost unbearable, something changed. You felt his hold on you loosen slightly, and you took the opportunity to spin around, pinning him to the wall.

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips, clearly caught off guard by your sudden move. His eyes, filled with desire, locked onto yours, and the tension between you seemed to reach a boiling point.

You couldn't help but smirk as you managed to gain the upper hand, "Huh, I wi-" But before you could finish, he swiftly turned the tables, pinning you back against the wall.

He chuckled, his voice low and husky. "Not quite, doll." He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, his voice low.

You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his arm pressing against your skin. "You were saying?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear.

You bit your lip, feeling the tension between you reach a fever pitch. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Your frustration bubbled up, and you couldn't help but shake your head in response. "That's not fair!" you protested, your voice tinged with exasperation. "I managed to break free from your hold. Doesn't that count for something?"

He chuckled, "Not it doesn't. You've still got a lot to learn. I could've easily gotten the upper hand on you again. The moment you let your guard down is the moment you lose the fight."

You clenched your jaw and stared into his blue eyes, not backing down from his challenge. "Okay enough with the taunting. I'm not afraid of you, Barnes."

His lips were so close, you could feel his breath against your skin. "You should be, doll," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

A moment passed between the two of you, and then, as if a dam had broken, he kissed you hard, it made you surprised, you gasped on his mouth and felt his tongue exploring you.

Your heart was pounding, the excitement building as you kissed him back. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the heat between you grew.

"God, Y/N," he groaned against your mouth. His metal hand reached for your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He pressed you harder against the wall, his hips grinding against yours. You moaned at the friction, feeling your body responding to his touch.

The training room was forgotten as the two of you gave in to your desires, the heat between you driving you both wild. You knew it was a bad idea, but in that moment, you didn't care. All that mattered was the pleasure, the heat, the intensity of it all.

"Bucky..." You panted, feeling his lips and teeth exploring your neck, his tongue licking you, tasting you.

The sound of his name on your lips sent him over the edge, and he couldn't hold back anymore. His hands found their way under your yoga pants, gripping your ass. He bit down on your lip, drawing a small moan from you. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

"Fuck, doll. You like this? Me fucking you against the wall?" he groaned against your mouth.

You nodded, unable to form any coherent words. “Tell me, do you want more?"

"Yes," you breathed, your body trembling with need.

"Tell me," he ordered, his voice husky with desire.

"I want you, Bucky…. please."

"Beg for it," he growled, his hands moving to the front of your yoga pants. He tugged them down, the cold air hitting your wet core, his hand quickly finding its way between your thighs. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, doll," he muttered, his fingers slipping into your panties, finding your wetness. "So fucking wet for me.” His fingers slid inside you, making you gasp, your hips bucking against him. "Is this what you want, doll?"

"Yes!" you cried out, your hands grasping at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. "Please," you moaned, your hips bucking against his.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, making you writhe and moan beneath him. "Such a good girl," he murmured, his free hand coming up to grip your breast. He groped you hard, squeezing and massaging you through your sports bra.

"Put your hands up," he commanded, pulling his fingers out of you. You complied, your hands reaching above your head. He pulled up your bra, exposing your breasts to him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. You moaned, your hips bucking against him as he sucked and nibbled on your breasts.

"So responsive," he chuckled, his hand reaching between your legs once again, his fingers dipping into your wetness. "Such a wet little girl. You're dripping for me."

"You like this?" He growled, his fingers rubbing your clit, his thumb sliding up and down your slick folds. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine, "Tell me were you already wet when we started sparring? Did you want me to pin you against the wall? To fuck you hard?"

You couldn't respond, the pleasure was too much. You were teetering on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment. "Please, Bucky..." you gasped, your hips grinding against his hand, desperately seeking release.

"You're a naughty girl, aren't you? You want me to fuck you, right here, in the training room, where anyone could walk in and see us?"

He was right, you didn't even think of that possibility. You shook your head, "No.. of course not... it's just the heat of the moment... It's just... we're alone right now."

"You sure about that, doll? Cause I'm pretty sure I heard someone walk by a few minutes ago. What if it was Clint? Or worse, what if it was Fury? I bet he would love to see this. His little protégé, getting fucked by the Winter Soldier."

You froze, your eyes wide.

"You know what?" He chuckled, "Let's put on a show for them. Let them watch. Let them see how you beg and scream for me."

“Cat’s got your tongue doll? Where are all the firey comebacks now? Nothing to say?” Your mind was in a state of shock. You tried to think, who was it? But Bucky was stroking you at a relentless pace, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.  

"You want me to make you cum, doll? To make you scream my name?"

"Yes," you panted, you didn’t care anymore, all you wanted was release. Your body trembling as he drove you closer to the edge.

He reached up, gripping your chin, his eyes locking onto yours. "I've wanted to fuck your attitude out of you ever since you came to the compound, doll,” he said, his voice husky with lust. "Watching you fight, all that fire, all that passion, it makes me so fucking hard. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to take you right here, to show you who's in control."

You couldn't take it anymore, the pleasure building, "I'm so close... Bucky," you moaned. You were so close, and he was taking you to new heights. You couldn't stop yourself, you could feel yourself losing control.

"Yeah I can tell, you're tightening around my fingers. Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Beg for it, and maybe I'll let you," he teased, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, faster and faster, sending you over the edge.

"Please, Bucky..." you cried, your hips bucking against his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you whined in frustration. "What the hell, Barnes?”

"Now, now," he tsked, his fingers trailing down your stomach, and stopping at your hip. "You don't get to come until I say so, doll," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous.

"But, please, I'm so close," you begged, the frustration almost unbearable.

"I know, but you need to learn who's in charge, and it's not you," he said, his fingers tracing circles around your clit, making you moan. "You have to obey my orders, Y/N."

"What the fuck, Barnes!" You screamed at him feeling angry at how he toyed with you. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He grabbed your hair and pulled it down making you winched in pain, "What did you fucking say to me?" He grabbed it harder when you didn’t answer him.

"Ouch." You winced in pain.

Bucky's eyes darkened and he tightened his grip. “First, you need to watch that mouth of yours." He was breathing heavily, his voice rough and commanding. "Or I'm going to shove my dick in it and put you in your place." he warned, his hand moving to grip your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

You gulped down at his threat. There was no mistaking the promise in his voice, but your pussy clenched at the thought of taking him into your mouth.  

"Second," he continued, his grip loosening slightly. "You need to learn that you don't get to question my orders, doll. You're going to be a good girl and listen."

You stared at him, unable to speak. He was serious.

"Answer me Y/N or I will leave you here, frustrated and wanting more," He threatened.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, his dominance and authority turning you on even more.

"Yes please, I'll obey," you said, your voice shaking slightly.

"Good girl, that’s more like it," he murmured, his metal hand coming up to caress your cheek. Bucky leaned closer and kissed your lips, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. He was sucking on your tongue and nibbling on your lips, his teeth digging into the soft flesh of your mouth. He kissed your cheek and moved down to your neck.

"Now, where are we?" He asked, his fingers back on your clit, rubbing in slow, agonizing circles. He was torturing you, teasing you.

He smiled wickedly, his hand moving from your clit and slipping inside you. He pushed two fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

You wanted to scream and yell at him, but you were unable to speak, the pleasure and the need for release overwhelming. You were panting and moaning, your eyes closed shut as you were trying not to come.

"Not yet." he growled. He pushed a third fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

"Beg," he commanded, his voice firm.

"Please, please, please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Louder," he ordered.

"Please!" you whimpered, the desire and need taking over. "Please, Bucky, fuck my pussy and let me come," you begged. You felt your inside tightening, you need to come right now.

Bucky leaned closer and kissed you again, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, exploring every inch. He moaned into your mouth, his fingers still pumping into you, his thumb circling your clit. "No," he said, and your eyes snapped open, meeting his blue ones. He smirked, seeing that you were close. "If you come before I tell you, I will punish you, doll."

Your eyes widened and your whole body shook with fear.

"Do you understand?" He asked, his fingers slowly pumping inside you.

"Yes, yes, I understand."

He chuckled, "You're a needy little slut, aren't you? You'd beg for my cock too, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," you moaned, the word falling from your lips without a second thought. "Please, Bucky, I need to come. I need your cock inside me, fucking me hard and fast," you begged, the words tumbling from your lips.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his fingers picking up their pace. "You're gonna cum for me now, doll. You're gonna cum all over my fingers, and then, when you've recovered, you're gonna get on your knees and suck my cock. And when I'm ready, I'm gonna fuck you, and I'm gonna make you scream my name."

You moaned loudly as his fingers brought you closer to the edge, his words sending a thrill through you.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, doll? Having my cock buried deep inside you, fucking you senseless?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you panted, the pleasure building. He added another finger and curled them inside you, hitting your g-spot, and you gasped.

"That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his fingers moving faster. "Come for me. Let me hear you."

"I... I'm gonna..." you moaned, the pleasure building in your body. You couldn't hold back any longer, the pleasure overwhelming you,

"Come now!," he ordered his fingers working even faster, and suddenly, you exploded.

"BUCKY!" You screamed, your body shaking violently as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body was trembling, and your juices were flowing freely down his fingers

"Such a good girl," he praised, his fingers slowing, drawing out the last of your orgasm, licking them clean. “Delicious," he murmured.

You panted, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. He lowered you to the floor, your legs shaky from the intense pleasure.

Bucky chuckled, seeing the confusion on your face. "Don't worry, doll," he said, leaning down and kissing you. "We're just getting started."

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice husky with desire.

Your knees trembled and you looked up at him. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You did as you were told, dropping to your knees. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, and you obeyed. "Suck my cock." His voice firm and authoritative

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him slowly unzip his pants, his thick, hard cock springing free. You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him. The serum must did something to him, as his member was definitely bigger than any man you'd seen before.

"Now," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "Don't be shy," he coaxed, his eyes dark with lust.

You slowly reached up and grasped his thick shaft in your hand, feeling the hot, smooth skin, marveling at the size of him. You felt a jolt of excitement run through your body as you stroked his length, feeling him twitch in your hand. You could feel yourself growing wet as you continued to stroke his cock, his member growing even harder under your touch.

His fingers tangling in your hair  "Now, put my cock in your pretty mouth, doll," he said, his voice thick with desire.

You lowered your head and opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You licked the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it, tasting his salty pre-cum. He groaned, his hips bucking as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down.

You hummed around him, the vibration making him moan. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling at the roots as you worked your mouth up and down his shaft, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You felt a surge of pleasure run through your body as you sucked his cock, loving the taste and feel of him in your mouth. You could feel his grip tightening on your hair as you continued to suck him, your tongue dancing along his length.

You didn't have any practice beforehand, but you are naturally gifted hearing praises, such as "Mmm, that's it.”, "Just like that.", “Fuck, you are good.” and the way his thighs trembled beside your ears were a tell-tale sign that you were doing great.

"You look so good like this," he moaned, his hand holding onto the back of your head, guiding your mouth over his cock. "I've imagined you sucking me off before."

His words made you moan around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

"You're taking my cock so well, like you were made for it."

You whimpered around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat once again. The feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth, the taste of him, and the way he praised you were pushing you closer to the edge.

"God, your mouth feels so fucking good," he moaned, his hips thrusting as he fucked your mouth. "Such a good little slut, aren't you, doll?"

You felt your pussy clench at his words, your arousal growing with every stroke of his cock. You bobbed your head faster, taking him deeper into your mouth, loving the sounds of his moans.

His fingers tugged at your hair, the pain and pleasure mixing together to send another rush of pleasure through your body. You moaned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock, causing him to thrust deeper into your mouth.

You whimpered, your eyes watering as he pounded into your mouth. You could barely breathe, his thick cock stretching your throat as he fucked your mouth. Your pussy throbbed, your arousal coating your thighs as he mouth-fucked you.

"Oh yeah, you love this, don't you?" He groaned. "You love choking on my cock." As he thrust his cock into your mouth, his hands travelled to your breast, squeezing them hard, making you moan.

He groaned as you continued to suck, his grip on your hair tightening, the pain sending another wave of pleasure through your body. He was fucking your mouth ruthless, the wet slurping sounds were the only sound in the room. And the sounds he was making was almost enough to make you cum.

It became harder to breath with each stroke of his cock meeting the back of your throat, tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

He looked down at you, the sight of your mouth around his cock was almost enough to make him cum. He pulled out of your mouth with a loud pop, leaving you gasping for breath and tears running down your face.

"Look at you, what a mess you are," he smirked, his eyes raking over your body. "You're such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

You felt your face flush, his words making your pussy ache with need. You whimpered, the need to be filled by his cock becoming unbearable.

"Do you want me to fuck you, doll? Do you want me to fuck you so hard, you can't walk tomorrow?"

You moaned, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, please," you begged, your voice hoarse. "Please, fuck me, Bucky." You couldn’t think straight, you had no filter, you were just saying whatever came to mind.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back. "Say it," he growled, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"Please, Bucky," you said, your voice pleading.

"Try better than that," he said, his voice firm.

"Please fuck me, Sergeant," you whimpered, your voice laced with desperation. "Please fuck me hard and fast until I can't walk. Please use me however you want."

He smiled wickedly. "Your words, not mine. Be careful for what you wish for, doll."

He shoved you onto the floor, his body looming over you. "On the floor. On all fours now," he ordered, his voice stern and commanding.

You scrambled to comply, getting onto your hands and knees. Your heart racing as he positioned himself behind you.

"Spread your legs," he said, and you complied.

He knelt behind you, his hands roaming over your body, caressing your skin. You could feel his hands on your hips, his cock rubbing against your wetness.

"Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you, Y/N?" He whispered, his voice low and husky.

You stayed quiet waiting for him. "I'm gonna make you scream and beg for me, I'm gonna make you forget everything, except my name."

His words sent a shiver through your body, his tone full of dominance and power.

"And when I'm done with you, you'll never forget me, Y/N. You'll always remember me, remember the way I made you feel."

You could feel his hardness pressing against your entrance, teasing you, tormenting you. His hands running over your ass. "But I'm not gonna go easy on you. You understand?"

"Yes," you moaned, your voice breathy. "I understand."

"Good girl," he said, and with that, he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body quivering as he stretched you. "Such a tight little cunt," he groaned, his hips snapping against you, his cock buried deep inside of you. "So fucking perfect."

You cried out, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He started to move, his pace slow and steady, his cock stretching you with each thrust.

"Oh god," you moaned, your voice echoing in the room.

"You like that, Y/N?" As he slammed his cock into you, his voice full of lust.

"Yes," you moaned, the sensation driving you wild.

"That's right, doll, take my cock," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Take all of it." He was rough, his pace fast and unforgiving, his cock filling you to the brim with every thrust. You cried out, the pleasure and pain mingling into a sweet symphony.

You moaned, your body shaking as he fucked you. He was pounding into you, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in a haze of lust and desire. "Who's pussy is this?," He asked.

"It's yours," you gasped, your body trembling.

"Say it again," he commanded, his thrusts growing faster and harder.

"It's yours," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Fucking right it is," he growled, his voice low and husky.

He was pounding into you, his pace relentless. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the air.

He yanked your hair, forcing your head back and you whimpered. He kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth. His teeth dug into your bottom lip, making you moan.

"Who's a dirty little slut?" He demanded, his hips slapping against yours.

"Me," you gasped, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. "I'm a dirty little slut, Bucky."

"That's right," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You're my dirty little slut, and I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You’re fucking mine."

Your body trembled, your muscles tensing as his cock slammed into you. You could feel the pleasure building, the pressure mounting inside of you. You were so close, and you needed him to finish you off. "Oh god, I’m so close," you begged, your voice desperate and needy.

"Not yet," he snarled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You'll cum when I say so, and not a moment before."

"Please," you begged, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. "Please let me cum, Bucky."

"Soon, doll," he promised, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Very soon." He knew you almost came and he decided to torture you further when his fingers finding your clit and he pressed down hard.

You cried out, the pleasure and pain becoming too much. "Oh god," you whimpered, your body trembling. "Please, I can't take it."

He slammed his cock into you, his balls slapping against your clit. "Yes, you can," he growled. "And you will."

You whimpered, the pressure inside of you reaching a breaking point. "Bucky, please please please," you begged, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

"Now," he commanded, his voice harsh and commanding. "Cum for me, doll."

You cried out, the pleasure exploding throughout your body. Your walls clenched around his cock, your muscles spasming. Your mind went blank, the world around you fading away. Your body was shaking uncontrollably as he fucked you through your orgasm, his hips snapping against you, his cock pounding into you.

You were exhausted, your body drained of energy. He continued to fuck you, his pace slowing slightly.

He slapped your ass, the sting of his hand sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. "Such a good little slut," he growled, his hips slamming against yours. "Taking my cock so well."

"Bucky," you moaned, the pleasure building once again. "Please, I can't take anymore."

"Yes, you can," he said, his voice low and husky. He slapped your ass again, harder this time. "You're going to cum for me again, doll."

"No," you protested weakly, your body trembling with exhaustion.

“Yes," he growled, his thrusts becoming more intense. "You will." His metal hand sliding up your stomach, between your breasts, and around your throat.

Your body arched, pushing your hips further onto his cock. The sound of his ragged breaths mixed with yours as you both raced towards your climaxes. "I'm close, Y/N. So fucking close."

His hands pinched your nipples, sending another shock of pleasure through your body. He sucked on them, the sensation almost too much for you. You whimpered, his lips capturing yours again. Your tongues swirled around each other, tasting, devouring.

His cock slid in and out of you, his pace quickening. His moans and growls echoed around you as his orgasm neared. He was so close. So was you.

"Please, Bucky," you begged, your pussy clenching around his length.

He tightened his grip on your throat and slammed his hips into yours. His free hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles over it. His eyes meeting yours. his hips slapping against yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.

"Cum with me, doll. Don't close your eyes. I want to see those pretty eyes as you come apart."

Your entire body shuddered, his command sending you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his length, milking him of his seed. Your body trembled, your muscles spasming as you rode out the waves of ecstasy. His breath becoming ragged as his own release neared.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips slapping against you. "Your cunt is so fucking perfect."

"God, yes," you moaned, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

He slammed into you, his pace becoming erratic as he neared his release. "Oh god," he moaned, his hips snapping against yours. "I'm gonna cum."

"Yes, Bucky. Cum inside me," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your words were enough to send him over the edge.

He growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you, his cock filling you completely. He groaned as he cum, his body shuddering as his release washed over him.

"That's right," he groaned, his body going limp. "Take all of it." You felt him twitch inside of you, his hot release spilling into you.

You slumped forward, your body spent as it slick with sweat and cum.  You could hear Bucky panting behind you, his chest heaving. You rested your forehead against the floor, trying to catch your breath. You had never been fucked so thoroughly in your life. Your muscles were sore and tired, your pussy throbbing.

Bucky was still inside of you, his cock softening. He pulled out, his cum spilling out of you. You could feel his cum leaking from your pussy, dripping down your thighs. "Look at that," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Such a pretty sight." He slid a finger between your folds, collecting the sticky mess, then he pushed it back inside you. You let out a small whimper as he slowly pumped it in and out.

Bucky turned you around, your head falling back against the floor. His face hovered above yours, his blue eyes burning with lust. He looked down at you, before he could say anything, you both heard footsteps approaching.

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then the next thing made your heart skipped as you heard the doorknob turning. You could only pray the ground to swallow you whole.

Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the story! Apologies if the ending didn't meet your expectations, I'm considering a Part 2, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm open to any feedback for improvement. Your input means a lot.

If you want to see more, please show your support by leaving a like. Thank you for taking the time to read!

A/N : Thank you so much for the kind replies and support! I'm really glad you enjoy the story, you have no idea how much that motivate me to continue writing. Please stay tune for part 2! Love youuuu xx

[httpwintersoldier]

『 hate fuck. || bucky barnes x reader 』

pairing: Bucky x f!reader words: medium summary: having sex with someone you love was good, but having sex with someone you hated was even better.

A/N: this takes place in a universe where Steve didn't make the dumbass choice of going back in time and staying there.

You became friends with Steve Rogers when you decided to join a help group for people who had lost their loved ones during the snap. You had lost all of your family, and in a way, so did Steve.

Your loss served as a way to bond, and you became great friends over time. Although it didn't fill the constant sense of emptiness, having each other's company and comfort made it a lot easier to cope.

The two of you would often sit over coffee and go on and on for hours, sharing stories about the people you loved and had lost. It kept the memory of them alive and made the pain a little easier to bear.

You learned that Steve's family had died long before he had even become Captain America, and his only family was Bucky Barnes - a.k.a the man who used to be the Winter Soldier.

The man spoke so highly of his best friend that you couldn't help but imagine the kindest, funniest, best person in the world.

So it came to you as a shock when, 5 years after Thanos visited Earth, everyone came back and Steve finally introduced you to Bucky, and you hated him. Not only that, he hated you too. You couldn't stand each other.

The air was heavy and tense in every room you shared, and everyone caught the very obvious hateful stares you sent each other's way.

It confused Steve. You didn't have a major disagreement, and neither of you were the type of person to just pick a fight with people out of the blue, so the reason why you were constantly at each other's throats was a head scratcher for Steve.

He did try his best to have you two hang out and get to know each other, but it just resulted in an awkward, angry mess every time.

The reason for your shared hate was stupid and childish.

It was mostly jealousy over Steve's friendship. When Bucky came back and saw how close you two were, he felt somewhat replaced, and he didn't like the way you walked around like you were Steve Rogers' best friend. You, on the other hand, didn't like the way Bucky looked at you and the way he dismissed your and Steve's friendship as if it wasn't worth anything.

However, neither of you would admit to being jealous of the other.

"Bucky I'm begging you, behave." Steve asked, hands placed on his best friend's shoulders as he looked into the man's eyes.

"Why am I the one getting the warning!? She's as much to blame Steve." Bucky argued, pulling away from his friend's grip to restock the fridge with beer.

Steve placed his hands on his hips and sighed.

"Fine, whatever. Just... don't add fuel to the fire."

The Avengers were having a get-together at the compound, and Steve knew how much you wanted to meet Thor, so he had invited you over to hang out with them. The man didn't even think about the tense atmosphere it might ensue until he saw Bucky's face twist in disgust when he heard his best friend tell the others he had invited someone else.

When the time came and you came into the compound dressed in semi-fancy attire, you could feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your skull. You knew it was Bucky, and chose to ignore it out of respect for Steve.

You introduced yourself to everyone, and you were visibly shy, standing before some of the strongest people in the universe.

"No need to be shy, miss Y/N. We are all like you! Well, I am a god, but the others are like you." Thor said, as he tried to make you feel more comfortable, and you smiled shyly.

You took a seat next to Steve, and not long after Bucky came into the room. He looked around for a seat, and luck certainly wasn't on your side, as the only vacant space was next to you.

He audibly sighed and took the seat.

"You can always stand." You said, under your breath, so only he would hear it.

Bucky ignored you, Steve's request to "behave" playing on his head over and over again, but you knew he heard you from the way his body tensed.

"So Y/N, how did you meet Steve?" Wanda asked, trying to get you to open up more.

"We met in one of those group meetings to help people who've lost someone to the snap, he helped me big time." You explained, smiling at Steve.

"So it's been what? Five years since you met? You must be like best friends now." Bruce said with a smile, finding your friendship cute.

Upon hearing those words, Bucky scoffed.

"Best friend? She wishes."

"I've been around more than you have."

You didn't want to reply to him, you didn't want to stoop to his level, but the reply came out of you automatically.

"I was physically unavailable 'cause I was snapped." Bucky argued, turning his body to face you.

Steve buried his face in his hands and sighed, as if saying "here we go", as the rest of the Avengers just looked confused.

"Bucky and Y/N don't get along... at all." Steve explained, brreaking the awkward silence and tension.

"Why?" Bruce dared to ask, his curiosity not getting the hint to leave the subject alone.

"If you have a conversation with her you'll understand why."

"I'd say the same but you're the most antisocial person I've ever met. You couldn't hold a conversation to save your life." You retorted instantly.

Pure hatred, disgust and anger were displayed on your faces as you engaged in what seemed like the most intense staring contest.

"Guys, please calm down, this is the first time we've all been together since everyone came back, let's all just take it down a notch and have a good time, okay?" Steve said, looking between the two of you, practically begging with his eyes.

"Whatever, I'm gonna get some air." Bucky said as he downed his beer and left the room.

Steve felt bad, but he also felt that leaving the room would probably be best for Bucky, as you two couldn't be in the same space together at that time without bickering, and you didn't know the compound well to go around and blow off some steam.

Some of the tension immediately died down, and soon after the group went back to the regular conversation, sharing stories, remembering old times, and bonding again over their experiences.

Since you were drinking, it wasn't long before you needed to use the bathroom.

"Steve?" You asked, tapping the man's shoulder.

He turned to look at you, focusing on what you had to say.

"Where's the bathroom?" You asked in a hushed voice.

"You go through there," Steve started, pointing at a hallway behind you "make a right, and it's the third door on your left."

You thanked the man and excused yourself from the room, although everyone else was too engaged in the conversation to notice.

After going to the bathroom, your mind was too distracted thinking about how lucky you were to be sitting and laughing with the Avengers to realize that you had gone the wrong way, and when you came back down to earth you registered that you had no fucking idea where you were and how to get back to the common area.

"Shit..." You said, looking around and wandering about as you attempted to find yourself.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

You recognized the voice that echoed behind you instantly. How could you not, it triggered you every single time.

You turned around to find Bucky, standing there in his usual "I'm better than everyone" with arms crossed and a raised eyebrow.

"I just love walking around and staring at walls and doors that all look the same." You said with an insincere smile, causing Bucky to roll his eyes.

You resumed your hunt for the area where everyone was gathered, but the soldier caught up to you and stood in your way.

"You're lost, aren't you?" He had this smile of amusement on his face.

The man was just waiting for you to admit it, so he could make fun of you for it.

"Bucky get the fuck out of my way, you're so annoying I don't know what could've possessed Steve to be your friend."

You shoved him as you said that, attempting to get past the Soldier. But apparently your comment set him off, as he grabbed your arm and pressed you against the wall. The soldier's face was centimetres away from yours, his jaw was clenched and eyes displaying a plethora of emotions you couldn't even begin to describe.

"You're out of your fucking mind if you think for a second that Steve would somehow prefer being with you than with me. I'm his brother, you were just a replacement while I wasn't back."

You scoffed and tried to shake him away, but to no avail.

"Is that why your panties are always in a twist when I'm around? You're jealous?" You teased, knowing fully well you were stepping into dangerous territory.

Bucky's grip went from his regular hand holding your arm to his bionic hand gripping your jaw, pinning it against the wall.

"Listen here princess, there's nothing to be jealous about. If you think I'd ever feel something other than disgust about someone as useless as you, then you're dead wrong. You mean nothing to me." His face was even closer to yours as he spat those words, hate and anger dripping from every single one.

"Oh and I'm so hurt by your words, will I ever get over it?" You asked sarcastically, bottom lip pouting and fake sadness displayed in your face.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm so fucking tired of hearing you bitch all the time." Bucky's voice was just above a growl, and it intimidated you beyond belief, but you'd never show it.

"Shut me up then."

Bucky opened the door next to you and shoved you inside, then slamming the door closed.

His bionic hand wrapped around your neck and brought you closer, your body crashing against his.

"I'm gonna shut you up alright, I'm gonna fuck you dumb so you stop running that little bitchy mouth of yours." Bucky told you, switching the tension in the room immediately.

"You're doing a whole lot of talking and not a lot of fucking."

"You're such a fucking brat" The soldier growled, pushing you against the wall and violently smashing his lips against yours.

The kiss was rough. No, it was animalistic. Your heads moving from side to side as you fought with your tongues for dominance, teeth clashing and hands all over each other, with lip and neck bites here and there.

Your hands tugged on his hair, and your thigh sneaked in between his legs, rubbing against his growing boner.

Bucky, on the other hand, squeezed all of your curves - your waist, your hips, your thighs and your ass. Any piece of flesh he could get his hands on, he'd squeeze and slap.

Unbeknownst to each other, you had also turned that moment into a competition, and you were desperately trying to make each other moan, as if the blatant display of pleasure from the other party was a trophy, as if it was a confirmation of submission.

In traditional Bucky fashion, he grew impatient, and decided to play dirty. As he mantained one hand on your ass, the other sneaked in between your bodies and undid your pants' button and zipper. Before you could protest, his hand found its way inside of your panties, and two of his fingers pushed inside of you.

"Shit- fuck!" You cursed as you pulled away from the kiss and gripped his shoulders, not being able to contain the ecstasy his touch made you feel anymore.

"So wet for me, doll." Bucky teased, whispering in your ear "Are you sure you hate me? Maybe you just really wanted to fuck me all this time."

He bit your earlobe and you groaned, out of pleasure and frustration. You wanted to complain and shoot back a snarky remark, but fuck the way his fingers filled you up and stretched you out was so delicious that you just couldn't.

"Fuck... you." You managed to say between deep breaths, as your head hit the wall.

Bucky slapped your ass harshly, and attacked your neck with small bites as a punishment (that you definitely wanted more of).

Your back started arching as your climax approached. You weren't sure if it was because it was Bucky or if it was because you were fucking in the middle of a party, but your climax approached extremely fast. And Bucky could tell.

He could very well tell you were about to cum from the way your eyes shut, your back arched and the way your hips desperately started grinding on his fingers begging for more.

So he picked up the pace, right before pulling his fingers out, and licking them clean in front of you.

"You fucking asshole." You said, out of breath, looking at him through your lashes.

"Sticks and stones princess."

You began getting on your knees, when Bucky gripped your neck and got you back up.

"Oh how cute, you thought I'd give you the chance to do the same to me? How stupid do you think I am?" He cooed mockingly, then approaching his face to yours "I own you. I control you and I will use you as I please. Got it?"

Although his tone was aggressive and intimidating, and his eyes expressed a mix of lust and seriousness, you'd never let him win at this mind game.

"Fat fucking chance, asshole."

The man picked you up, swung you over his shoulder and carried you to the bed, slapping your ass harshly before letting you fall on the mattress. He pulled down your pants, as well as your underwear and discarded of them.

Bucky then hovered over you and looked at you threateningly, the thing he seemed to be best at.

"You're such a fucking brat... I'm gonna love to destroy you."

You didn't realize he had pulled his cock out by the time he finished the sentence, and just as you were going to say something, he bottomed inside you.

The fucker had timed it perfectly to shut you up with his cock, and you knew it. You knew it because as you looked at him through half lidded eyes you could see his smile, a smile that said "I win" as his tongue poked against the inside of his cheek.

"What's that princess? Wanted to say something? Go ahead. Say it."

He knew you couldn't. Bucky was perfectly aware that you couldn't speak because he promised to fuck you dumb and he was achieving it.

The way he held you down with one hand on your hips and one around your neck, his hips incessantly snapping against yours at a pace you had no idea was even possible.

All could manage to leave your lips were moans and incoherent swear words that you yourself couldn't put together.

"That's it, doll, you look so good like this, taking my cock." Bucky's voice then darkened "I'm going to fuck the brat out of you no matter how many times it takes."

Bucky was loving it. Seeing you be so submissive in front of him, moaning and whimpering as you took him all in... It took all his strenght not to cum quickly, but he wanted to see you cum first. He wanted to see how good you looked as you came, knowing he (the person you hated most) was the reason you were climaxing.

As soon as your hands gripped the sheets and your back arched once more, Bucky knew you were close.

"That's it doll, cum for me. Cum on my cock princess, I want to see how good you look." He said, breathless.

It wasn't long before you obeyed his command.

"Fuck, Bucky!" You yelled as your climax hit, your legs trembled and your eyes saw stars.

Your mind went blank, and you could swear you had passed out for a second.

The soldier finally let go, buried himself deep inside of you and came, as he groaned and gripped your hips tigther.

When he pulled out, he fell beside you on the bed, trying to regain his breath like you.

No words were exchanged, you simply stood up and put your clothes back on and the man followed suit.

You made your way to the door and opened it, before stopping and stealing one last look at Bucky.

"This was the first and last time."

The man chuckled, paused and stood up, walking up to you until his chest was against your back and his hands on your hips.

"Sure thing princess, lie to yourself all you want, but you can't lie to me, you'll be back. I saw how desperate and wwet you were for my cock."

You felt the heat in your body rise, and just pushed him away as you tried to find your way back to the common area, trying to forget what had just happened.

You fixed your hair and makeup as best as possible with the help of your phone's screen, and once you started hearing their voices in the distance you found your way back.

The vibe of the room slightly shifted when you entered, but you just assumed that it was because they weren't used to you.

However, the belief changed when you sat down beside Steve and he leaned in to whisper to you.

"I take it you two... made peace?" He asked, a little big of hope and disgust intertlocked in his words.

You looked at him with wide eyes and fake confusion on your face.

"What do you mean!?" You whispered back and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Y/N, we all heard you scream 'Fuck, Bucky'."

[TAGS]

@pattiemac1 ; @buckysfirstbitch ; @low0tter

[rainedravens]

"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Dog Tags

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> Bucky is looking for his Dog Tags, and you just so happen to have them.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff and fun, kinda enemies/rivals to lovers vibes, open ended kinda, reader is mentioned to own a knife. Not Proof Read.

Bucky had been looking for them for weeks. 

His dog tags. His identity. His attachment to a life long forgotten. 

They’d been with him on his last mission; he was sure of it. He remembered clasping them in his hand before laying them under his uniform. And he never took them off unless…did he? 

“Buck. You’ve already looked in here. Twice.”

Sam’s eyes tracked Bucky around the room as if he was the madman’s doctor. Bucky wasn’t paying attention and nearly ran into Sam’s legs that were resting on the coffee table. 

“Dude.”

“They’ve got to be here,” Bucky kept muttering to himself. “They have to be.”

“Buck, I will get you a new set.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t want another set.”

Sam stood with a sigh, placing his bookmark in his book. “For all we know, they’ve been trampled into the mud on our last mission.”

“I would have noticed them. I never saw them.”

Sam watched as Bucky looked in every cupboard in the kitchen. He sighed, again. “Have you asked Y/n?”

Bucky scowled. “She doesn’t have them.”

“And you know this because…”

“I’ve already checked.”

Sam watched Bucky. “Did you ask? You know, before you ransacked her room.”

“I didn’t ransack her room.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two recently. It’s like you’ve gone from agreed silence to sworn enemies, but maybe you should just ask her. She might know.”

“I’ll ask Wanda.”

“Y/n’s better.”

Bucky looked over his shoulder to Sam as he opened another cupboard. “But Wanda is my friend.”

Sam sighed before walking into the kitchen and shutting every door Bucky had left open. 

“Buck-“

“I’m gonna look outside.”

“Bucky!”

He wasn’t listening. But you were. 

“You know, all he’s gotta do is ask.”

Sam looked over his shoulder at you as you leaned by the main entrance. Bucky had left through the back. 

“Do you know where they are?”

You tried to hide your smile and shrugged. “I might do.”

Sam turned around. “Y/n.”

You gave in and walked inside. “Oh, come on, Sam. He kept my knife from me for, like, three months.”

That had been true. It was your favourite one. You’d lost it after being pulled away by Yelena for some ‘Kate Bishop’ emergency. Bucky had found it in the training room and kept it from you for three months. 

It wasn’t until you were both on a mission that you saw him flip it through his fingers before using it. He’d just chuckled when you called him an Ass. 

“Gotta be more careful next time, doll.”

You could have punched him in the face. 

So, when you found his dog tags on the ground, you made a decision. 

Originally, you were going to give them to him. But when you pulled your knife from your holster back on the jet, you were reminded of what he’d done. 

It was simply payback. 

“You know, he’s not gonna be happy when he finds out.”

You shrugged. “S’only fair.”

“Where are you even keeping them? He probably turned your entire room upside down.”

You nodded, “Oh, he did. But he’s never gonna find them.”

From under your clothes, you pulled out the military issued dog tags. Embossed on the metal was Bucky’s name, birthdate and blood type. On the second was his regiment. 

Sam gave you a slightly judgmental look but you could see the pride he was trying to hide. 

“You’ve gotta tell him eventually.”

“You’re not gonna tell him?”

Sam shrugged as he passed you and picked up his book. “I knew he had your knife. I didn’t help you, I’m not helping him.”

You gave a small gasp, “I knew it!”

Sam just laughed his way down the hallway. 

Meanwhile, you looked back at the dog tags with a light smile, your thumb brushing over his name. 

You’d give them back soon. But a little just desserts would do no harm to the super annoying, massive pain in the ass, super soldier. 

Bucky looked for two more weeks. His dog tags were lost forever. He had a feeling Sam know something since he’d suddenly changed his tune on issuing him some fresh dog tags. 

“Just hold out. Maybe they’ll show.”

“Who told you that?”

Sam shrugged, “I went to a psychic.”

Bucky rolled his eyes before trudging over and sitting beside his friend. He’d hold out for one more week, then he was gonna issue them himself. 

You could feel Bucky’s eyes still on you. He was practically searing a hole into the side of your face. 

He’d been like that for three days. Watching you. Staring. 

“You know something,” he said when he finally cornered you. 

You acted as if you didn’t know what he was talking about. “I know nothing.”

“Where are they?”

“Where are what?”

“Stop acting dumb,” Bucky told you. 

“Ever considered I’m not acting, Barnes.”

Bucky chuckled a little. “Every day.”

You walked into that one. 

“But I know there’s a small part of you that’s a lot smarter than you’re letting on. So, I’ll ask again. Where are they?”

“Please.”

Bucky leaned back a little. “What?”

You clasped your hands behind your back and leaned forward a little, practically bouncing on your feet. “Where are they, please?”

Bucky stared at you before groaning. “Where are they…please?”

You stood tall and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Quit lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

Bucky sighed. “Do you really enjoy this?”

“Enjoy what, Bucky?”

You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. “You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side from day one.”

Your gaze hardened on him as you stepped closer. “And you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass. Look, don’t you think if I’d taken them, I’d have kept them safe? Safer than being hidden in my room? I know what they mean to you, Bucky.” 

You stepped back before you could let your mind wander to places further than just standing inches from Bucky in an empty hallway. 

“Kinda like my knife.”

Before you disappeared down the corridor, that last sentence only added fuel to Bucky’s fire. You had them. They were safe. But if they weren’t in your room, where the hell were they? 

It took him ten days to realise. And when he finally did, he hadn’t been thinking about them.

It had been just before he closed his eyes. It hit him. The safest place from him, was you. They’d been on your person the whole time. They had to be. 

And, despite the clock beside his bed telling him it was almost 23:00, he knew where you’d be. 

You hadn’t been sleeping much for the last few months. He knew because of how tired you seemed to move. A little slower, a little more distant. 

Zipping up his grey jacket, he padded his way down towards the training room. 

You hadn’t spotted Bucky standing against the wall, grey sweatshirt, white tee and darker pajama pants. If you had, you would have made some kind of comment about wearing plaid in Spring. 

“I figured it out,” Bucky called out calmly as he watched you. 

You ducked your head as if you’d just avoided a bullet. “What the- James.” You gave a huff. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Bucky just smiled casually and pushed himself from the wall. “I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” You asked, a little breathless. You’d been in the training room, alone, for the last two hours. 

“Where you’ve been keeping my dog tags.”

“Really? Who says I have them?”

“You and I both know you’ve had them since the beginning.”

You just watched him, studied him. A slight smirk broke out on your face. “I don’t know who took them, Buck. But I’d say it’s Just Desserts, wouldn’t you?”

“For stealing your knife?”

You nodded. “I’d say so, yeah.”

“Wanna know how I figured it out?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

Bucky shrugged. “You knew I’d find out it was you. But you also know I avoid you as much as I can. And I know you’ve done the same with me. That’s how I kept hold of your knife for so long.”

That much was true. It was just safer to avoid each other than it was to deal with the potential ramifications of being left alone together longer than ten minutes. 

You let Bucky continue as he walked closer to you. You remained fixed in place, just watching him. He looked so…domestic. Slightly bed ridden hair, freshly showered, relaxed. Cosy.

“So, the best place to keep my dog tags safe would be with you, at all times. All day. All night.”

“Really?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah.”

“And what makes you so sure I have them on me now?”

Bucky took a final step forward and looked you over. His body was in chest from you. 

“May I?”

You nodded, realising where his eyeline had fallen. Silently, his fingers reached out. Ignoring the way his touch felt against your skin, you watched as he pulled his tags from under your shirt. 

He examined them. 

“Found ‘em.”

You looked up at him with a knowing smile. “Seems we have a winner. I must say though, I can see why you get so attached. There’s something…familiar about having them with you all the time.”

Bucky nodded. But he seemed to be thinking. Then he smiled before tucking them back into your shirt. 

You were confused. “Don’t you want them back?”

He nodded. “One day. But, for now, you should keep them safe. They look good on you.”

You looked down, mostly to avoid his blue gaze.

There had been a few moments like this over the last few years. Moments where the ten minutes ran out and it was just you and Bucky, alone, barely inches from each other. All the while, comments passed between you both which made you think that, deep down, you didn’t hate him. 

And that he didn’t hate you. 

Part Two

[kyotosworld]

warm

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warning: language. mini enemies to lovers & one bed trope :p

word count: <1k

summary: you’re freezing, who knew that all you needed was some good old super soldier heat

you’re freezing cold. for whatever reason, a safe house owned by rich man stark doesn’t have a working thermostat.

so even as you’re laying on the side of the bed closest to the fire, while hogging the thick blanket, you can’t stop shivering.

oh and another thing stark couldn’t afford for some reason: a second bed. so you could tell that bucky had fallen asleep a while ago. you guess super soldiers don’t have to deal with the cold...lucky bitches.

you try not to wake him up in your attempt to bury yourself deeper into the covers, all while rubbing your hands and legs together to generate heat.

you think you're being quiet enough until you feel movement from bucky’s side of the bed.

“hey, are you still up?” he asks groggily.

“uh, yeah.” you awkwardly whisper back, trying not to make it obvious that you’re shivering.

“shit, you’re shaking. are you okay?” he seems to get up and rest on his elbow, now fully awake.

“yeah, i’m fine. just go back to sleep.” you try to shrug it off.

but he doesn’t listen. the bed creaks and shifts as he moves closer to you.

“do you trust me?” he suddenly asks close to your ear.

you slightly turn your head towards him and scoff, “is that a serious question? if so then my answer is nooo-”

“can i touch you?” he whispers.

your breath hitches as you take a second to process his words,”…what?”

“i mean, you’re obviously freezing and–well i’m pretty warm right now…” he nervously explains.

your first instinct is to say no, but then your whole body shivers, “sure i guess…if you want to so bad..” you mumble the last part.

he slides his right arm over your waist and you’re instantly warmer.

you sigh and he moves closer. without realizing it, you wrap your own arms around his forearm.

only after you’ve calmed down from the cold do you realize where your hands were.

“oh, sorry.” you rush out, shaking your head, as you start to let go of his arm.

instead he grabs hold of your hand and moves it back towards your chest, “no, do whatever you need to stay warm.”

“..thanks buck,” you whisper as you finally start to fall asleep.

“don’t mention it.”

—

when you wake up, you're surprised to feel that you're still in bucky’s arms. maybe it was because you were half asleep or just so relieved that you finally got some rest, but whatever it was convinced you to bring bucky’s hand closer to your face before placing a soft kiss on it.

you pause in instant regret, waiting to see if he noticed.

after some seconds of silence you try your best to move out of bucky’s arms without waking him.

but of course his super hearing alerts him, and he responds by squeezing his arm around you.

“hey,” he softly greets.

“hi,” you reply shyly before actually getting out of his arms and sitting up.

you then turn to face him, “uh, so why’d you do that last night?” you ask, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

a crease forms between his brows, “you were cold.” he says like it was obvious.

you look down and chuckle, “yeah but..i thought you hated me.”

bucky’s loud snort is what brings your head back up, “that’s hilarious, i thought it was the other way around.”

you both look at each other perplexed for a moment before chuckling.

“we really need to work on our social skills.” you add

“yeahh,” he trails off as you hold each other’s eyes. “so, was that a kiss i felt as i woke up or did i dream that?”

your eyes widen, “definitely a dream.” you answer a bit too quickly.

“hmm. you sure you weren’t trying to cop a feel without me knowing?” he asks with an amused look in his eye.

“no!” you defend while putting your hands up.

“it’s okay if you did..” he’s leaning towards you as he murmurs, “i only want to return the favour.”

your eyes snap up to his as he moves even closer, softly meeting his lips with yours.

you finally pull away and open your eyes, “tell me bucky, did we just kiss or was i dreaming?” you throw back at him only to hear his beautiful laugh in repsonse.

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: Perfect

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Description:

Reader and Bucky hate one another, but they always get put on missions together. They have to stop at a motel for the night after a mission, oh no, there's only one bed. Enemies to Lovers (Kinda) & Only One Bed Tropes!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Motel Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Eating Out, Pussy Eating, Name Calling, Swearing, Porn With Plot, Some Plot (Let me know if I've missed anything)

Words: 4,698

First Part to Two Parter Story. Click here for second half.

Bucky Barnes never understood why the entire team loved you. He didn't love you. He thought you were annoying, and perfect. Not good perfect, why were you good at everything? It annoyed him, so naturally he had always taken it out on you. And you gladly reciprocated. There was an element of fun when you had your screaming matches, and secretly you liked it. 

The worst part was the missions, you and Bucky were the perfect partners, Steve knew it too, so every blasted mission, you were paired with perfect Barnes, you never understood why the team thought he was perfect. Sure, he was good at everything, it still annoyed you. 

Currently the two of you were sat in a random car Steve had hired for you both, the mission had been a success and you were on the way home. Except there was a huge storm coming in, so there were no flights, Bucky hadn't wanted to wait in an airport - they made him nervous. 

So now, the two of you were in the thick country, driving through deep lanes of tree arched lanes, the rain was hammered down onto the car, you hadn't realised the wipers were able to reach the speed they were on. Bucky had one hand gripped onto the wheel, and his other leaning on his elbow against the bottom of his window so he could rest his head on his hand. You were trying to see out of your window but had no luck, it was dark, there were no street lamps, and the rain was so heavy it wasn't like you could actually see anything. The only time things became visible was when the sky would crack loudly and for a short moment light up the sky with lightning. 

"I think we should..." You start to say before stopping, Bucky didn't pay notice to your words. You reached into your jean pockets and grabbed your phone, googling what you wanted to google, luckily you had one tiny bar, so after waiting a few minutes, the search finally came up. 

"There's a motel, few miles away" You mumble, knowing his super soldier hearing would hear. 

"It's fine" Bucky mutters, his voice gruff. 

"Bucky, we have fifteen hours left..." You say, looking at him, his eyes were narrowed as he looked to the road. "Tell me you're not struggling to see"

Bucky let out a small huff, his hand gripped the wheel a little tighter. He didn't want to admit you were right, but you were. Of course. He grunted, you were always right. "Fine, give me the directions"

You smirk, knowing how much he hated going with your plan. YOu gave him the directions, trusting your phone completely, before he agreed to the motel, you had screenshotted the steps, which had been a good idea since the closer you got to the motel, the less signal you had. 

Bucky drove into the small car park of the motel, it was dingy, and on a guess, you'd say there had to be thirty rooms maybe? Bucky parked into the only space free in the lot. You grabbed your bag and rushed from the car, you ran, though seconds under the rain and you were drenched, you waited for Bucky by the reception hut's doors. 

Bucky walked in first, the hut was tiny, if you stretched your arms either side you could probably touch both walls, not that you'd want to. The walls were a mustard yellow, but somehow you thought maybe they were originally white. The thought made your skin shiver and itch slightly. 

You turn your attention to Bucky, who had been talking to the man behind the desk, a gruff looking man who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but here. 

"I've got one room, take it or leave it" The man says, his eyes on the newspaper in his hands. Bucky sighs, a small grunt leaves his lips. 

"Yeah, that's fine" He mutters "We'll take it" 

You didn't think much of it, you and Bucky had shared a room hundreds of times. Usually it wasn't the last room free in a dinghy motel. As long as there were two beds. Or at least a couch. 

Bucky takes the key and brushes past you to leave hut, you follow stepping out from the hut too. The rain was still hammering down, the air felt icy as you followed Bucky to your room. 

Bucky opens the door and stops in the doorway. "Fuck"

You had stopped behind him, his taller frame blocking your view into the room. 

"There's only one fucking bed" Bucky grumbles as he steps inside, finally letting you in and out from the rain. You look around the room, seeing he was right. The room was basic, it wasn't as off-puting as the reception. The walls were a deep purple, rather than the musky yellow colour, the floor was a questionable green. But the bed looked nice, it looked clean, which was good, but it dawned on you that you'd have to share with Bucky. There was no couch, or even chair. The room had a bed, and that was it. 

"I'm going to shower" You mutter, your bag was still on your shoulder as you stepped closer to the shower room. Bucky huffs and sits on the edge of the bed. 

"Don't use up all the hot water" Bucky snaps. 

"If there's any to begin with" You snap back, you then walk into the shower room, shutting the door behind you. You take a second to lean back against the door, taking in a deep breath. You were only human, and the thought of sharing a somewhat small bed with a man that looked like that made a heat begin between your legs that you were going to ignore. 

The shower wasn't anything amazing, and unshockingly there was no hot water. You winced and washed as quickly as you could, feeling a little better afterwards. You didn't pack a lot of clothes, your mission wear, which you had been wearing, and some lounge wear: A pair of cosy shorts which were pink, and a Star Wars top, it was oversized and had the poster for A New Hope printed on it. You blushed as you looked into the murky mirror, you had to remind yourself Bucky wouldn't be looking at you or your clothes... right?

Back in the bedroom, Bucky grabbed his own bag, the moment you left the shower room, he stepped inside. Leaving you alone in the bedroom. You sighed and climbed into the bed, you grabbed your phone and texted Steve. 

'Weather's awful, we're at a motel for the night' 

'Noted. Don't kill one another' Steve texts back, you let out a small laugh and put your phone back in your bag. Moments later Bucky stepped out from the shower room, in a black pair of boxers and a black tank top, you had to remind yourself that you hated him, and the only reason your mouth went dry was because it had been a while. No other reason. Definitely not because, goddamn he looked so good. 

"You used all the hot water" He mutters, you watch as he drops his bag down by the bed, before sitting on the edge of his side of the bed. 

"There was none" You answer back with a huff. "Trust you to get pissy over having a cold shower, Winter boy" 

"Shut up, that's a dumb nickname" 

"You're a dumb nickname" You mutter, not your best insult, but you were tired. The bed's duvet was awful, the room had a slight chill, and annoyingly the more Bucky got himself comfortable in the bed, the warmer you felt. Feeling his warmth against your body, the bed wasn't big, and Bucky was a huge, muscular man, he took up most of the bed. 

"Goodnight, maybe a good night's sleep will help you come up with a decent insult" He says with a chuckle, the both of you settle into the bed, there was a small switch on the wall by your side, you flicked it and the room was shrouded in darkness. 

You laid there in the darkness, on your back looking up at the ceiling, the rain was loud outside the window, you hoped it would calm by morning. 

________

You weren't sure how long it had been, but it wasn't morning, the window behind that god awful lime green curtain. You had been asleep, but something had woken you up, and that something was tight around your waist. 

"Fuck" you mutter to yourself, Bucky's flesh arm was draped over your middle, his hand was spread, pressed against your abdomen. His soft snoring just behind your ear suggested he was still asleep. His body wasn't quite pressed against your back, but he was close, you could feel his lower legs against yours. 

You wiggled slightly, regretting it almost immediately as his hand moved slightly lower, you had to bite your lip to stop the pathetic moan leaving your lips. 

Bucky moved slightly, his eyes fluttered open, but the residue of sleep still hazed over his mind, he looked over to you, your back was to him, his arm still over your waist. He had wanted to move, but it felt so good to hold another person. God, it had been so long. He waited for a few moments, you seemed to be asleep, so he moved slightly, pressing his front to your back. You were most certainly awake, and shocked at his movements. Neither of you had even acknowledged the other being awake, so you were frozen, though a small gasp left your lips as you felt his hard cock digging into your lower back, the thin material of his boxers and your shorts leaving nothing to the imagination. 

You decided to move your body into his, it could easily be mistaken for a stretch from someone deep in their sleep, his hand moved, tucking itself under you slightly, bringing you closer to his body than before. 

"Fuck" Bucky mutters. "I know you're awake"

Of course he did. He was a trained super soldier, he could probably tell when someone was awake or asleep. You cursed to yourself, in your head, questioning whether you should admit you were awake. Would he stop? Would he carry on? These questions were floating around your mind, did you want him to stop? This was wrong, so wrong. You were partners, fuck, you hated one another. But he was so good looking. 

"Come on doll, talk to me" He whispers, his words dancing along the back of your neck as he presses his nose into your neck. 

"I'm awake" You mutter, not having thought of anything else to say. What could you say? Without thinking you move your backside again, rubbing against his hard cock perfectly so it lined with your arse crack. Both of you let out a small, whimpering gasp. 

"You have to stop that...unless you..." He says, his words trailing off. You had your eyes squeezed shut, it was dark anyway, you didn't need them open. 

"Unless what?" You question, your voice quieter than usual, you didn't trust yourself to speak above a whisper. Bucky sighs from behind you, he was having the same battle in his mind as you were. He didn't like you, he never had, never liked how snappy you were with him, or how you always knew exactly how to make every mission go perfectly, and fuck he hated how good your body felt against his. 

"Don't make me say it" He grumbles, you weren't sure who started moving first, but your hips and his were moving slowly, you grinded back into him whilst he grinded against you. 

"Aw is the poor Winter Soldier nervous?" You joke, laughing softly. Your giggles soon stopped when his hand moved from your abdomen to your hip, his hand gripped your flesh as he started his hips harder against you. 

"Wanna say that again? Or do you wanna do this?" He asks, his voice gruff as he speaks. 

"Wow, that's a really good way to seduce someone" You answer dryly, you had a small smirk on your lips as he spoke, his grip tightened. "Ask me nicely snow boy"

Bucky rolls his eyes, you always called him dumb nicknames concerning his Winter Soldier days, in fact you were the only one he knew that did make jokes. He'd never admit it aloud, but he kind of loved it. Everyone else ignored it, pretended like it had never happened. But you, no, you would make jokes, it almost made him feel like it was okay that it had happened. 

Bucky presses a short kiss to your neck, it felt like breaking the final barrier between the situation. He takes a few moments, and then whispers your name, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks, driving you insane. 

"Let me fuck you" 

"Say please" You whisper with a playful grin, he couldn't see your face, or anything much in the darkness of the room, Bucky lets out a soft growl, sending shivers straight down to your already wetness between your legs. 

"Anyone ever tell you how annoying you are?" He asks, the hand on his hip moved, slowly down the front of your shorts, on a different day he would of taken the piss, they were soft and maybe a little fluffy, but he wouldn't say anything, not right now. You stayed quiet, your heavy breathing the only sound in the room as he moved to cup your sex. You let out a small yelp at his touch. 

"What was that, doll?" He purrs in your ear. 

"I hate you" You mutter as you open your legs. 

"That's a girl" He says, taking hold of you thigh, he moved your leg to hook over his, lying you slightly on your back. He moves his hand back to your clothed sex, and starts rubbing you through the fabric. "Fuck, you want this, don't you baby?"

You don't answer him, opting to bite your lip as you body warms from his touch. Fuck, he had barely touched you and you were melting against him. 

"Use your words, or I'll stop" He says with a smirk. "I'm going to ask you a question, if you don't use your words, I'll stop, and turn away and go to sleep"

 His fingers press down to your clit, you hadn't looked to him yet, his lips were resting below your ear, his words were making your brain fuzzy. 

"I want to taste you, will you let me?" He asks, at first you nod. But you knew he wanted more than a mere nod. 

"Yes Bucky, please" You whimper. 

"What would you like darling?" He asks. Dickhead. That's what he was. God, you hated him, fuck, you needed him. 

"I want you to taste me" You say through gritted teeth. Bucky chuckles in your ear, his breath tickled the shell of your ear, he moves presses a soft kiss to your jaw, moving to kiss along your jaw as he moves himself. Just before he kisses your lips, he stands up and starts to take his shirt and boxers off. 

"Take your clothes on, doll" He says, you can only just see him in the darkness but you listen, shedding your top and shorts off. 

"Oh" You say quietly as he climbs back onto the bed, the lower half so he could crawl between your legs. 

"What?" He questions. 

"I uhh haven't shaved in a few days" You say, feeling a little bashful as he opens your legs, getting comfortable between them. 

"I don't care about that" He says, and not a second later his lips were on your clit, your hips jolt up into him. Bucky moved his hands under your arse, taking hold on your cheeks, so he had a good grip as he tastes you. He sucks on your clit until it was swollen and puffy in his mouth, and then moved his tongue down, slipping it in between your wet slit. He groaned at the taste. 

Your back was arched, your hands were clenched into fists on the sheets of the bed. Bucky was lying on his front, noisily slurping between your legs, you had wanted to giggle thinking about how his legs must be dangling off the bed. One of his hands move from your arse and takes your hand in his, moving it to the top of his head. 

"Hold me where you want me baby" He growls, your eyes roll back as you grip his head, letting your fingers weave through his hair. You hadn't expected his hair to be that soft, but it was. Visions of running your fingers through his locks whilst watching a movie together flashed through your mind before you shook your head to forget it. He moves his hand back down, and presses two fingers to your eager hole. 

"Bucky, fuck...please!" You whine, your voice loud, your heart hammered in your chest. All thoughts were gone, you needed him and only him. You hated that you knew he was smirking, you could feel the curl of his lips against your lips as two of his metal fingers push into you, he started slowly pump his fingers. 

"Uhh...yess" You whined, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach. It had been so long since someone else had made you feel this good, you hated him for a moment, of course Bucky was good at this. 

"Mmm are you going to come for me?" He asks, his voice low as he laps at you between each word. "Let me taste you" He adds, you were moaning loudly now, your hips were grinding against his face as his fingers pumped into you, his lips were still on your clit. His words were sending shocks through you, how was this the man you argued with on a daily. Last week you had a screaming match so loud, Steve put you in time outs. And now... 

"Fuck!" You squealed loudly as you felt yourself coming hard, your body shook as he used his free hand to hold your hips down as he sucked hard against your core. 

Moments later you were still mind frazzled, your body felt warm and a happy daze fluttered around your body. Bucky chuckled from between your legs, he slowly removed his fingers, before giving your clit a final kiss before moving up your body, crawling, you opened your legs, giving him space to sit comfortably. 

"Was that good, darling?" He asks as his face hovered over yours. "Come on, doll, what do we say?"

"Thank you, dickhead" You mutter, he chuckled again, his nose brushing yours, you froze slightly. Was he going to kiss you? Did you want that? He just made you come, a kiss was nothing, right?

You decided it wasn't a big deal, so you moved up slightly, pressing your lips to his. For a moment, neither of you moved, but then you did, his lips moved with yours, his tongue left his lips to taste you. His tongue tasted like you, you moaned softly against his lips. 

Bucky moved his hips so his hard, and untouched cock pressed against your wetness, he groaned against your lips, the head of his sensitive cock slipped between your folds, causing his body to shudder. You moved your hips, feeling his cock slip down to prod at your hole. 

"Fuck" Bucky mutters against your lips, he moves slightly, his face barely visible as he looks down at you. "Can I...gods, can I fuck you?"

"Yes..." You whisper, all thoughts about how this was probably a bad idea left your mind. Who cares, right now there was a super soldier that wanted to fuck you. And you were going to let him. Bucky lifts slightly, moving his hand down to grip his cock, he groans loudly as he grips himself. 

"Ready for me?" He asks, his lips hovering close to yours. 

"Cocky much, Snowball" You answer back, pressing your lips back to his. Bucky swallowed down his pride and stopped himself making a snappy joke, he pumped his cock a few times before pressing the head to your pussy, he could already tell it would be a tight fit, he had a deep, slightly worrying feeling that he would become addicted to you in just a few moments. 

You both gasp as he pushes into you, your lips no longer kissing, as Bucky slowly thrusts deeper into you. Bucky smirked as your legs shook slightly, his cock was fully in you now, and he was right, addicted. 

"What did you say? Cocky?" He smirks. 

"Fuck, shut up Barnes and fuck me" You growl out. You had never felt so full, he was so big, of course he was, super soldier serum and all. But fuck, he was...perfect, you genuinely think he had ruined you for other men.

Bucky moved his hand down between you and pressed his thumb, if not a little awkwardly against your clit, he moved slightly, electing little noises from your lips. He wanted to remember the noises you made for the next time he was alone. 

"You feel perfect" He whispers. "Of course you'd fucking feel perfect"

"Says you... Oh god, did we just become friends?" You ask, a slight playfulness to your tone. Bucky chuckles, he starts moving his hips, you were so wet, covering the entire length of his thick cock with your juices. 

"Definitely not, we're enemies to the end, don't you worry" He says, his voice strained as he almost pulls completely out of you, before thrusting back into you, hard. You both groan loudly, your hands move to grip his shoulders, you were careful of his metal shoulder scar. 

Bucky moved his hips back and forth, fucking into your tight pussy, he felt like you were sucking him in, it was enough to make him bite his lip and remind himself not to finish in two minutes like some teenager. He pressed down harder against your clit, feeling how you tightened every time he did. 

"I want you to come for me again" He grunts, as he fucks you harder. You whine and lift your knees a little higher, resting your thighs against his muscular thighs. His spare hand was rested on your hip, holding you tightly as lifts his hips up and down. He moves his thumb a little fast, slipping slightly from your wetness. Your legs squeezed his sides slightly as you felt the coil build in your stomach. 

"Close...oh fuck I'm close" You whimper, your breath heavy as he pounds into you, you grip his shoulders a little tighter. "Bucky.."

"That's it, come for me, fuck" Bucky grunts as he pounds faster into you, he felt a sweat collecting on his brow, something that didn't happen often, he moved down, pressing his lips to your neck, he wanted to leave a mark on you. Wanted a reminder in the morning he hadn't dreamt of this. 

You moaned loudly as you felt yourself come hard, your pussy walls clenched around his cock, adding to your pleasure as you chanted his name again and again. 

"That's it, that's my..." Bucky whispers as he sucks hard against the skin of your neck. He stops himself, feeling silly as he nearly called you his girl. You weren't his girl. He hated you, oh fuck he hated you, he thought to himself as his hips slammed into yours, his movements growing sloppy. 

You laid there, feeling a little lightheaded, he had fucked you good, fucked you so well. You giggled lazily as his hips lost their rhythm.  

"You going to come inside of me Barnes?" You ask, he lifts his head to look up at you, you could just about see his eyes. 

"Can I? Oh fuck, I didn't even think...Doll, I'm sorry" He rambles, you stop his words with a short kiss. 

"I would of told you, you can finish in me...or on me, whatever you like" You say, before you press your lips to his again. His hips start moving again, fucking into you, a soft ache had started at the feeling, he was larger than you had ever had before, and boy were you feeling it, and you were sure you'd feel it tomorrow. 

Bucky grunts and sits up, ripping his lips from yours as he sits up on his knees, he pulls his cock out from you, and grips it tight in his flesh hand, he was right handed after all, he starts to pump himself until he was finally coming, coating your body in his thick, hot come. He groans loudly and closes his eyes, feeling his chest heave slightly at feeling the release. 

A few moments of quiet past, you and Bucky were breathing heavily, your sighs haggard, wondering who would make the first move. You were having the same thoughts as him 'Fuck, what if they regret it'

You didn't. 

He didn't. 

You make the first move, moving slightly to switch the light back on, you wince slightly from the bright light and groan, rubbing your eyes. But when you opened them, you looked upon Bucky's fully naked body for the first time, and he did the same to you. You both muttered a 'fuck' 

"You're beautiful" You whisper before you can stop yourself. 

"Beautiful, huh?" Bucky says with a playful grin, it falters when he notices your lips falling into a slight frown. "Oh, you're, fuck, you're breathtaking, darling. You are, god, we've in new waters right now, aren't we?"

"We are" You say quietly as you look down at your nude body, covered in Bucky's seed. "Let's get cleaned up"

He nods and motions for to you stay put before climbing off the bed, he roots through his bag and grabs a random flannel cloth, he wipes you down first, cleaning your body carefully and slowly, as he does he looks up to your neck, smirking when he sees his little mark on your neck. 

"What are our options?" You ask, your mind moving at a million ideas a second.

"Leave it to you to worry about that" He mutters as he cleans himself. When done, he crawls back into the bed and faces you, you move so you can fully face him. 

"We can fuck, it doesn't need to mean anything" Bucky says with a shrug. 

"You're right, because that was good, like I want to do that again, good" You admit, feeling a soft blush creep onto your cheeks. 

"We'll keep doing this then... and maybe try to be friends?" He suggests, his voice laced with how uncomfortable he felt with this conversation, you felt happy knowing he felt exactly as you did. 

"I like that idea, friends who have sex it is" You say as you reach your hand out, to shake his, Bucky takes your hand firmly, before replying. "Friends who have sex"

And despite agreeing to be friends that have sex, you both know it never works that way. And as you both lie in the bed, in that disgusting motel, deep down, you knew exactly what would happen. After all, it's how every movie and book ended. And so you fell asleep with a dream of you and Bucky, lying together in your bed at home, and actually enjoying each other's company. 

"Goodnight darling" Bucky whispers into the dark room, thinking you had fallen asleep, but you were just awake enough to whisper back. "Goodnight Bucky"

Part Two

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[jobean12-blog]

Sunshine

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 6.4K

Summary: It's a beautiful day that turns even more beautiful when you run into the most handsome man you've ever seen...and the grumpiest. Will his good looks be enough for you to stick around and get to know him?

Author's Note: I love a grumpy!Bucky and a reader who just won't give up on him! Kind of sunshine/grumpy trope with enemies/lovers mixed in a little too. This was fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy 🥰

Warnings: fun, flirty tension, a tiny bit of angst, grumpy!bucky, fluffy sweetness too

Waiting in line at your favorite coffee shop is always worth it and today, after a restless night, you really need the extra boost. Even though you’re behind schedule the stop is a necessity and despite the busy morning rush the line is moving quickly but apparently not fast enough for the person behind you who lets out a loud and frustrated huff.

Trying to be discrete you turn and look out of the corner of your eye.

The sight of him strikes you in a way you’re not prepared for.

Then the barista calls your name. You blink, dazed but thankfully able to recover well enough to give the barista a warm smile and thanks.

As you grab your napkins and gather your things you can’t help but steal glances at the man. He’s tall and broad shouldered, wearing a leather jacket that shows his biceps shaping the fabric, his long legs are clad in well fitted dark denim, and he’s the perfect mix of masculinity and male beauty.

His brooding expression doesn’t falter as he retrieves his drink order, but he does say ‘thank you’ and to your continued surprise, ‘excuse me,’ to whomever he passes.

With one last longing glance you head for the door, walking out into the sunshine and crossing the street to your favorite bench to enjoy your coffee before work.

You’re focused on your phone while you sip slowly so at first you don’t notice the dark shadow looming over you. But the rumbly and gruff voice startles you.

“You’re in my seat.”

You look up, shielding your eyes from the sun to see nothing more than a large shadow.

“What?” you ask, feeling discombobulated.

The shadow shifts and your eyes widen when you see the man from the coffee shop, his glower ferocious despite your now big smile.

“This is your seat?...It’s a whole bench.”

“Yeah…well.”

You look at the open space next to you and offer out a hand. “There’s more than enough room for both of us.”

His eyes narrow but he sits.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” you say brightly.

“I’m here almost every day,” he answers.

You keep your smile in place.

“Well, I’m running late so that must be why I haven’t seen you before.”

“Then why are you sitting on this bench talking to me?” he asks.

You bristle inwardly but your smile doesn’t falter.

“I still have time. I usually get in early, so it won’t be a problem.”

He stares at you, the breeze catching his scent and blowing it your way.

You try not to inhale, focusing on the fact that he’s super grumpy instead of the fact that he’s super hot and smells really good.

“I enjoy sitting out in the sunshine. It helps me feel grounded before I really start the day.”

The words tumble out unprompted but under his narrowed gaze you find yourself feeling less confident than usual.

He just “hmphs” in response and looks away, taking a sip of his drink.

“You say you sit here every day so what’s with all the…” and you motion to him, “grumpy? Is the sunshine not good enough for you?”

He turns your way again, lips pressed together but his eyes flaring with surprise. Before he can respond his phone rings. He looks at the screen with another mild puff of air then swipes his thumb over it.

“Wilson,” he says gruffly.

His voice drops low, and you look down at your phone, trying not to listen. Most of the conversation on his part is a series of grunts and mumbled responses so it’s hard to follow anyway.

After hanging up he stands abruptly and looks down at you, his gaze lingering before he gives you a barely perceptible nod of acknowledgement and starts to walk off.

You yell after him, “I hope you find some sunshine!”

He doesn’t turn around but you’re sure you see his steps falter for just a second.

It’s only after you finish your drink that you stand and start the short walk to work, surprised to catch sight of the grumpy stranger across the street at the local VA, squatting down in front of an older man with a dog.

The grumpiness is gone, replaced by a warm smile that crinkles his eyes. All the air goes out of your lungs.

He looks up at that moment, noticing you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk across the street. His smile fades and you drop your head, speed walking away.

It’s Saturday morning and you’re standing outside the bakery, texting your friend to get their donut order. The door opens and you barely have time to register the whiff of familiar scent that floats by you when you look up and lock eyes with Mr. Grumpy himself.

You smile in greeting.

“You,” he answers.

Your grin widens. “Me. What are the chances? Your favorite bench stealer!”

He sighs heavily and glances back at the door to the bakery before pinning you with his stare again.

Now that the sun isn’t shining in your eyes you have a better chance to see the color of his. They’re blue. A gorgeous ocean colored blue framed by long, dark, and thick lashes.

His attention strays down your body and you feel tingles everywhere his eyes touch.

“Here for something sweet?” you ask.

He never gets the chance to answer because a man comes up behind him and grabs his shoulder, giving him a slight shove to move in front and say hi.

“Barnes! Aren’t you going to introduce me to your beautiful friend here?”

You smile warmly.

“Sam. Sam Wilson,” the friend says in introduction.

“Hi Sam!” you greet and give him your name.

“Barnes didn’t tell me he made a new friend,” Sam says.

“Barnes?” you repeat.

You direct your question to Mr. Grumpy whose been standing there silently murdering Sam with his eyes since he appeared.

Sam smiles triumphantly. “This here is James, but his friends call him Bucky.”

“Hi Bucky. Nice to officially meet you!”

Your tone is light and airy, and you wave.

“Hey,” Bucky answers, then turns to Sam. “Let’s go, the guys are looking forward to these donuts.”

“Is he always this grumpy?” you ask Sam.

Silence falls between you all, but it only lasts a moment, broken then by Sam’s loud cackle.

“Oh, I like her already!” Sam says.

Ignoring your comment-and Sam’s-Bucky repeats, “let’s go Wilson!”

Sam returns the favor, ignoring Bucky and focusing on you. “You should come down and visit us at the VA sometime. He’s never grumpy around the guys.”

“So just me then?” you ask with a laugh.

“That’s just because he thinks you’re beautiful,” Sam winks.

You steal a glance at Bucky and note the slight pink color that paints his cheeks.

“It was nice meeting you Sam. And you too Bucky.”

With those last words and a smile, you skirt past them and walk into the bakery. After placing your order you’re shocked to find Bucky standing at the pickup counter, hands in his pockets and shuffling on his feet.

“Miss me already?” you tease.

He doesn’t answer and instead hands you a business card. You take it and look down, reading the information for the VA and Bucky’s name.

“Thanks,” you say, meeting his eyes again and noting the pink still coating his cheeks.

He doesn’t answer but you think you see his lips lift into what might be a small smile before he casually strolls off.

His jeans are molded perfectly to his perfect ass, and you sigh.

“Are you going to go visit him?” Diana asks through a mouthful of donut.

“Nah,” you answer.

Diana’s eyes bug out of her head with a gasp.

“Um you said he was insanely hot. I don’t’ get it. You don’t NOT go visit.”

“You do if he’s a grumpy jerk.”

Diana laughs. “Maybe he needs to eat more of these donuts!”

You roll your eyes. “He had a whole box of them. He was with his friend Sam who was also hot. I should go visit him.”

“Ohhh make Mr. Grumpy jealous. I like it.”

You shove the card into your bag and grab a donut.

“I think we need more donuts for this day,” you retort.

After a long donut filled debate with Diana you decide to make the call to the VA office. To your happy surprise Sam answers.

“Hi Sam,” you say and tell him your name, thrilled he remembers you.

“I was just thinking I’d like to bring some treats down to the office this week. Is there anything in particular I should get?”

You can practically hear Sam’s smile through the phone. He rattles off some orders and then tells you the days and times that would work. When you hang up you feel lighter just knowing you could do something kind.

You’ve never been in the VA building before even though you’ve passed by it many times. The interior is warm and inviting and has a large walnut desk and matching benches nearby.

At the sight of the benches, you laugh to yourself, wondering if Bucky claimed these seats too.

“Hey.”

You barely catch the quiet greeting but look up to see Bucky standing by a doorway. You suddenly feel hyperalert, every inch of your sensitive tingling and awake. You almost forgot how gorgeous he is, his light blue henley fitted around his broad chest and his dark jeans showing off those long and muscular legs.

Your heart flutters as he crosses the hallway, hard expression on his face, before he stares down at the box of donuts.

“You can’t eat them all!”

He gives you a quelling look, though you’re sure you catch a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“I can actually,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone, “but when I’m here I share.”

“What if I want one?” you ask, feeling brave and maybe a little flirtatious.

It takes him a moment to answer as he holds you under his keen regard, sweeping his gaze down your body before it lingers on your lips and finally returns to your eyes.

“Maybe,” he grumbles, then turns on his heel. “Follow me.”

You enter a room with tables and chairs set up and one long counter and cabinets in the back where you see a coffee machine, refrigerator, and small microwave.

“Do you have a favorite?”

His question surprises you and it takes you a minute to realize he’s referring to the donuts.

“OH, yeah definitely. The Bavarian cream is the best!”

“Hm,” he replies.

He doesn’t indulge you with his favorite, so you decide to ask.

“What about you?”

“Glazed,” he says, then adds, “with sprinkles.”

You stare at him for a beat then a laugh bursts out of you.

“I was not expecting the sprinkles!”

You’re too busy laughing to notice his smile.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind for the next time I visit,” you tell him when you finally catch your breath.

“You want to come back?” he asks, eyes narrowed.

You don’t have a chance to answer because Sam enters the room with a boisterous greeting.

“There you are!” he says. “So glad you stopped by to see us.”

“And I brought donuts!”

“Perfect,” Sam says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

You look back at Bucky as Sam leads you out of the room. “Don’t eat any of those!”

Bucky’s scoff is the last thing you hear before you step out into the hallway.

After Sam gives you a tour you meet some of the veterans while you share donuts. It’s wonderful to talk with them and make them laugh and you’re happy you made the visit.

Right before you leave you run into Bucky who’s hovering over the last of the box of donuts.

“Slim pickings huh?” you say as you look into the mostly empty box.

“Yeah,” he huffs with a scowl.

“Lucky for you,” you say and open the cabinet above your head, “I stashed one in here earlier before we gave them out.”

You pull out the paper plate and take the napkin off to reveal a glazed donut with colored sprinkles.

He studies you in such a way that your thighs press tightly together in reaction. His expression is irritatingly unreadable as your eyes meet again.

He shifts as if he’s uncomfortable, an awkward silence hanging between you, before he blurts out, “thanks doll.”

His expression morphs into one of surprise and it matches yours, but you recover quickly enough with a warm smile.

“You’re welcome Bucky. Thanks for having me.”

You’re just getting situated with your book on the couch, rain pelting the window outside, when your phone rings.

Sam’s name lights up the screen and you answer with an excited, “Ghostbusters, whaddya want?”

The silence your met with is unexpected as you were hoping for one of Sam’s bright laughs.

“Tell me that’s not how you answer your phone normally.”

At Bucky’s weary comment your smile falls. “Bucky? I thought it was Sam?”

“You sound disappointed,” he points out.

“Only because you seem bothered by my amazing phone answering skills. I’m sorry that one got lost on you. Sam would have loved it.”

“So, if you knew it was me calling what would have said?” he asks.

“Uh…hello?”

“Uh hello?”

“No…just, hell, ugh! Why are you calling me from Sam’s phone.”

Silence again.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah…I didn’t have your number and wasn’t sure you’d answer if I called from mine so…”

“Ok,” you say. “And now that you have mine just text me and I’ll have yours.”

He’s quiet again before he continues in a rush of words.

“So, we’re having our annual fundraiser gala soon and Sam mentioned that you said you’d like to volunteer more, and we could use some help planning.”

“I’m definitely interested,” you cheer. “When should I come by?”

You get all the information you need from Bucky and then hang up, his conversation stilted when you started getting more excited and telling him that you were looking forward to working with him and helping. He hung up with a mumbled goodbye and never text you to give you his number.

It makes your thoughts of his disinterest solidify and you try to let it go and focus on the good you’ll be doing.

The week moves slowly but when Friday comes around you feel the same lightness from the last time you visited the VA. It gives you renewed energy, and you open the door with a smile, searching for the familiar face of Sam or Bucky.

You don’t see either of them, so you head down the hallway to the small dining room. Sam is at the front by one of the windows. He waves, pointing to his phone to signal he’ll be right off, and Bucky is at the counter.

He turns to face you, and you walk over.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hiya doll,” he answers.

Confusion washes over you at his sweet endearment, but you push it down and focus on what he’s holding.

“More donuts!” you exclaim.

“We always have them,” he says lightly. “I got you a Bavarian.”

At your silence you feel his eyes on you, and you drag them away from the perfectly powdered and filled deliciousness in the box.

“Why didn’t you text me?” you ask without thinking.

“What?” he says, his brow furrowed.

“You never text me to give me your number.”

His attention never leaves you, his gaze drifting from your head down to your feet. When he reaches your face again he stares and pulls his phone from his back pocket.

“Can I have your number?” he asks quietly.

“Sure,” you say and take his phone to program it in.

“Thanks,” he says.

“And thank you for my donut,” you finally say. “That was really thoughtful.”

He nods and grabs a glazed before motioning for you to follow him. The rest of the day is spent pouring over invites and food orders as well as any little detail that needs to be squared away before the event.

Most of the time it’s you, Sam and Bucky seated at a table, but Sam leaves occasionally to take a phone call or manage something in the office.

During the down time you learn more about Bucky, asking questions and mostly getting abridged but not unfriendly answers. He seems genuinely interested in what you have to say and that, again, confuses you more as to his intentions-if he has any at all.

Once the sun has set and you’re worn out you help them clean up then gather your things.

“How are you getting home?” Sam asks as you walk together to the door.

“I think I’m gonna walk,” you tell him.

Bucky makes a sound of disapproval behind you.

“What?” you turn and ask.

“It’s late,” he states.

“And?” you answer.

“It’s not safe.”

“I appreciate your concern but after sitting most of the afternoon I want to walk.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

At Bucky’s statement both you and Sam give him a wide-eyed look.

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell Bucky.

“Nah, he’s right,” Sam chimes in. “He should go with you. I would offer but I’m in the opposite direction.”

Sam tries to hide his smirk, but it’s written all over his face, so you just smile and accept Bucky’s kind and gentlemanly offer.

“Just gimme a sec. I want to grab something from my bike.”

“Bike?” you murmur as you track his movement toward a sleek black motorcycle parked at the curb.

Holy shit.

He doesn’t say a word as he walks back toward you.

“I didn’t know you had a motorcycle,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says while running a hand through his hair. “You know…easier in the city.”

“Smart and badass. It’s beautiful.”

That’s when he smiles at you, a real smile, for the very first time.

You nearly swoon.

“Yeah?” He looks boyishly pleased about your reaction.

You nod and give the bike one last look before you fall into step beside him. You chat about everything from the upcoming event to how he met Sam and even find out more about his motorcycle. He’s more open and comfortable and indulges you with more details about anything you ask.

As you pass by a bar a large crowd of young people come out, clearly drunk and rowdy as they sway and swerve as a mass toward you.

Bucky links your fingers together and deftly slides you out of harms way. Your skin tingles, little sparks of feeling shooting up your arm and it’s all you can concentrate on until the group passes by and continues down the street in a clamor.

“They seem like they’re having fun,” you giggle. “Thanks for the save there.”

The corner of his mouth starts to tilt upward and then he remembers he has a hold on your hand and his eyes drop and widen and he quickly let’s go, clearing his throat and mumbling, “no problem.”

“Did you ever go out like that and get wild?” you ask after a beat, hoping to lighten the mood again.

“Who me?” he asks and blows a raspberry. “Nah. I’m not really into big crowds much.”

“Then you should really enjoy the gala next week,” you say wryly.

“Right?” he answers. “If it weren’t for such a good cause and important to me, I’d skip it all together and stay behind the scenes.”

“Well at least you’ll have Sam!” you say in support.

“Actually…he’s usually caught up in everything since I leave all the talking and canoodling to him.”

“Canoodling,” you repeat and cover your mouth to stifle your laughter.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I can’t imagine you not wanting to canoodle.”

Your delivery drips with sarcasm, and he throws you another killer smile.

He has the sexiest smile ever. Of course he does. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t smile a lot, because of its killer effect? Or is he really just Mr. Grumpy? One or the other.

When you reach your apartment you walk toward the double doors, thanking him for walking you home. Searching for your keys in your bag you end up dropping your phone, bending to pick it up at the same time Bucky does.

You bump heads and he immediately apologizes and rests his hand gently on your forehead.

“You ok?” he asks, rubbing his thumb soothingly.

“Yeah,” you say, slightly breathless.

His gaze drops to your lips and lingers before coming back to your eyes.

“Hey um…” he starts, those beautiful blue eyes studying you, sweeping over your features, as if tallying every little detail he finds.

“Yeah?” you ask, giving him a sweet and reassuring smile.

“Uh, thanks, for the help today. I’ll see you soon.”

You deflate at his quick departure; telling him it was “your pleasure and you’ll see him later.”

You’re not even to your apartment door when your phone chimes. You retrieve it from your pocket and see Bucky’s name on the screen.

You open the text and nearly drop your phone again.

'Do you want to be my date to the fund raiser?'

Like sunshine bursting through a cloud, you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach, a fluttery warning that you’re way in over your head.

“What are you going to wear?” Diana asks as you stand in front of your closet.

“I have no idea!” you sigh. “I asked for a dress code, and he said ‘formal’…and that’s it. Then I asked what he was wearing, and he said, ‘a tux.’”

“Not very chatty, is he?” she mutters.

You shrug at stare at your closet that has nothing appropriate in it.

“Looks like we’re going shopping,” Diana says as she jumps off the bed and grabs her bag. “Come on, we’re gonna find you something that will knock his socks off.”

Bucky picks you up in a town car, and you smile graciously as he opens the door for you, your internal nerves wild as you wait for his reaction to your appearance.

Unfortunately, his reaction isn’t worth the nerves because he stares blankly at you before giving you an abrupt nod of greeting.

All the while you try not to drool over him in a tux.

When you arrive inside you can’t hide your beaming smile. It looks beautiful. All the details having come together perfectly to create an elegant yet comfortable atmosphere.

“You’re really doing wonderful work here,” you tell Bucky.

He holds out his arm for you and smiles. “Thanks doll.”

“You’re here!”

You turn at the familiar voice. Sam hurries over and takes you in.

“Wow,” he says, raising his brows. “Lucky man Barnes.”

He claps Bucky on the shoulder. “Enjoy yourselves. I’ll be around if you need me.”

Bucky places his hand on your lower back and leads you across the room to the table. Your breath catches at the sensation of his hand on your bare skin, but you try to shake it off.

His hand presses deeper into your back, and you follow his guide. People greet him and he says hello, but he doesn’t stop to chat.

“Shouldn’t you be taking the time to talk with these people?” you ask.

“Probably,” he says as he pulls out your chair.

You snort because he sounds like he couldn’t care less.

You’re the first people at the table and you stare at the fancy centerpiece.

“It really does look amazing in here.”

Bucky glances over it all, bemused.

“It does. I guess it’s necessary.”

“What do you mean,” you ask.

“I come to these events for Sam and the veterans. I want to raise money and help but if it were up to me it would all be quiet and low key. This kind of socializing isn’t my first choice.”

Turning to study his handsome face, you smile. “Is any kind of socializing your choice?”

He throws you a dark but amused look. “You’re funny”

You hold back more laughter and touch his knee, giving it a soft squeeze. His eyes meet yours and you swallow around the sudden sensation of your racing heart.

Needing to break the intense eye contact, you turn to observe the room, noting that more people are heading to their tables.

You spot Sam talking to a lovely woman and you feel Bucky’s smile.

“Sam likes her,” Bucky says quietly.

“Who is she?” you ask in a whisper.

He leans into you, his breath tickling your cheek as he murmurs, “the daughter of one of our veterans. They’ve met a few times, and I can tell he’s totally taken with her.”

You turn your head slightly, bringing your faces just inches apart. “She’s lovely. I’m sure she likes him too.”

His attention moves from Sam to you, and his eyes narrow as he realizes how close you are. But he doesn’t move back. Instead, he searches your eyes.

Your heartbeat skips and you’re almost afraid to breathe.                      

Needing to break the tension once again, you wrench your gaze away and find Sam shooting you a quick glance.

“I have the sudden urge to run over there and embarrass him,” you say with a devious smile.

Bucky’s answer is to move away but only because he throws his head back in laughter.

“I’d pay to see that,” he replies, mischief dancing in his eyes.

Before long, your table is filled, and Bucky introduces you to the people he knows. The older couple sitting nearest to you is just smitten with both you and Bucky, peppering you with questions and hanging on your every word.

They tell you their life story too, how they found each other and fell in love and have been together ever since. It warms you and you give his thigh another squeeze under the table.

He places his hand over yours and brushes his thumb across your knuckles.

The food comes and you turn his way, lightly tugging on your hand.

“I need that to eat,” you giggle.

“Oh, right,” he says with one more sweep of his thumb before he releases you with a soft expression.

The food is delicious, and you find yourself smiling between every bite.

“You two look like you’re having a good time.”

Bucky stiffens next to you, and you wait for his move before following his gaze to the older woman standing behind you.

“Don’t you look handsome as always James,” she comments then flits her eyes to you but doesn’t say anything more.

Bucky smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Mrs. Whitman. How are you?”

“Fine, just fine. Now I need to steal you away for a moment.”

Bucky’s eyes lift over Mrs. Whitman’s shoulder and his lips turn down in a frown.

“I can’t, sorry Mrs. Whitman. I’m here with someone.”

He looks at you and smiles.

Mrs. Whitman sighs, clearly annoyed.

“You can’t spare just a moment?” she pleads, trying to appear genuine.

“Sorry,” Bucky says as kindly as he can.

Without a goodbye she huffs off and you wait until she’s far enough away before looking at Bucky. His frown melts away as your gazes lock.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Her husband was a veteran, and he recently passed. She’s been trying to set me up with her daughter since, but I’m not interested.”

“I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble,” you tell him.

“No. Not at all doll. She can be rude sometimes, but I think she’s just struggling with grief and doesn’t know what to do with herself. I feel bad, but like I said. I’m really not interested.”

You smile reassuringly then excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a little air. When you return, you see Bucky hasn’t moved from his seat and his gaze is zeroed in on the hallway to the bathroom.

As you cross the room toward him, his eyes drift down your body. His gaze lingers on your bare shoulders and the sway of your hips and by the time you reach the table, you need another restroom break to cool off.

He doesn’t move out of the way, so you have to brush up against him to sit back down. When your eyes meet, his are heated. You stare at each other, the music and chatter around you fading away.

The lovely old woman next to you breaks you out the haze when she asks where the restroom is. You point her in the right direction, telling her you’ll happily escort her, but she refuses kindly and slowly makes her way through the crowd.

Once she’s safely down the hallway, you look away and find yourself staring at Bucky. His face is close.

Too close.

Or maybe just close enough depending on how you look at it.

His eyes search yours and you ignore the rushing in your ears as you close the distance between you and gently brush your lips over his.

Your mouth tingles from the brief touch as you pull away.

He scowls hard at your mouth, but you’re not sure if it’s because you kissed him or because you barely kissed him.

“What…?” he starts to ask roughly, but a loud banging at the front of the room, startles you and pulls your attention away.

Sam stands at a small podium, a smile on his face as he greets everyone.

Nice timing Sam.

‘How’s work today?’

You smile at you phone and Bucky’s name on the screen.

‘It’s going…’ you type back. ‘How about you? I know you said your day was going to be busy.’

‘Up and down. We made some really good progress with one of our veterans today, but we lost one of our oldest members to cancer.’

‘Oh Bucky. I’m sorry it’s been a tough day. Do you need anything? I can come by on my lunch break.’

‘Thank you doll, I appreciate it. But it’s unfortunately something I’ve gotten used to. Comes with the territory.’

‘I’m here if you need anything.’

‘Thanks.’

You’re just clearing your desk at the end of the day when your phone rings. You smile at the sight of Bucky’s name, and you’re not surprised considering you’d received a text to inform you that your delivery had been successfully made.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hey.” His voice is low, a little hoarse. He clears his throat. “You sent me donuts.’

You grin at how confused he sounds. “I did and cookies.”

In fact, you sent him a dozen glazed- with sprinkles of course- donuts and a box full of assorted cookies from your usual favorite bakery.

“I wanted you to have a little treat after a long day. I know you might be used to it but that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard on you.”

He’s quiet so long you have a horrible feeling that you may have crossed a line. But then he speaks.

“Thank you doll. I really appreciate it.”

You smile and try to quell the butterflies dancing around your stomach. “You’re welcome!”

“I’ve never had so many glazed donuts to myself!” There’s a teasing tone to his confession.

“But you have to share the cookies!” you tell him, trying to sound stern.

“Yeah, I’ll do my best,” he laughs. “But really, thank you.”

“It was nothing,” you say trying to shake off the giddy feeling he’s giving you with a shrug he can’t see.

His voice is gravelly when he promises, “it’s not nothing to me.”

You teeter on your feet. “Well, I’m glad it cheered you up a little. I’m just heading out of work so…”

“So, I’ll let you go.”

Did you hear a smile in his voice?

“I’ll see you this weekend for Sam’s BBQ?”

“Yes! Looking forward to it,” you say.

“Great doll, see you then and I am too.”

With that, he hangs up and you stand at your desk and try to slow the rapid beating of your heart.

Bucky picks you up on his bike and you’re barely ashamed at how excited you are to ride with him.

He revs the engine when he pulls up at the curb where you’re standing and settles the bike with his leg on the sidewalk.

“No helmet?” you ask with a wave.

He sucks in a breath and his eyes are glued to your legs.

“Wrong outfit?” you say as you track his gaze. “I can go…”

“Nope,” he says quickly.

He hops off the bike and offers a hand to help you get on, squeezing his eyes closed when you get close to him and your shoulder brushes against his chest.

“Are you ok?” you ask him, looking up into his blue eyes.

“Yep. All good,” he says, voice strained.

You narrow your eyes at his sharp tone but take his offered hand and help onto the bike. Once you’re wrapped around him and pressed to his back you lean up and say, “what’s going on? You seem grumpy today?”

“Nothing,” he replies before revving the engine and pulling away from the curb.

It doesn’t take long to get to Sam’s and when you arrive Bucky parks his bike and hops off lithely and you wait for him to offer his hand to help you off.

To your surprise he takes you by the waist and lifts you off the bike in one easy movement. Your body is plastered to his as your feet slide to the ground.

You shiver at the contact.

“You cold?” He frowns at you.

“Nope,” you answer, looking away and straightening the bottom of your dress.

Over his shoulder you see Sam walking your way.

“There you two are!” he yells.

You wave and smile.

“You look gorgeous as always,” Sam says.

Sam leads the way to the backyard and Bucky places a hand at your lower back. Your brain fritzes and it’s all you can think about as you walk through the yard saying hello to people as you pass.

When you reach Sarah, Sam’s sister, you greet her with a warm hello, having met her once before at the VA. Bucky joins in the conversation, his fingers still warmly pressed into your skin when he starts to draw little circles on your lower back.

You suck in a breath and trip over your words and then he splays his palm and slides it around to your hip, drawing you into his side.

Your heart stops.

Sarah doesn’t seem to notice or if she does she doesn’t make it known and when Sam calls for her help she rushes off with a promise to come back and chat after.

“You seem to be in a better mood now that we’re here,” you say as you turn your eyes to Bucky.

His eyebrows draw in. “I…you look gorgeous.”

Your lips part and your mouth falls open.

“You always do. You did at the fund raiser. You do today. It’s just…I’m not good at…”

He trails off, his words dying on his lips and his cheeks turning your favorite shade of pink.

His words fill you with relief and you swear that it’s the lingering heat of that barely there kiss from the gala that you can’t seem to forget because the next thing you know you’re grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling his lips down to yours.

You intend it to be a quick kiss, but he brings one of his hands to the back of your neck and the other presses deep into your back as he takes over. Your small gasp turns into a moan, and it ignites him. He deepens the kiss, hungry and desperate and it sets every inch of you on fire.

“Uh, there are children present.”

Sam’s voice cuts through the moment like a bucket of cold water and you move back. Bucky’s hand flexes at the back of your neck as if to stop you from moving away from him. You breathe hard and state at each other.

Best. Kiss. Of. Your. Life.

Bucky appears dazed enough for you to believe maybe it was for him too.

The party around you comes back to life and Sam’s broad smile fills your vision. He claps Bucky hard on the back. “I knew ya had it you Barnes!”

Sam saunters off with some extra pep to his step and you watch him walk back into the house. Bucky’s fingers close around yours and he tugs you away from the crowd.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

He doesn’t answer but just holds tightly to your hand until you reach a small garden enclosed by a low white fence. At the back there’s a wrought iron bench just big enough for two.

“This is so pretty,” you whisper as he walks you through the garden.

When you reach the bench he turns your way.

“You’re really going to share the bench with me?” you ask playfully.

His answer is to lift his hand to cup your jaw, his eyes dropping to your mouth. You hold your breath as he leans in. The first contact he makes is just a brush of his lips over yours. The briefest sweep.

“I’m sorry I was such an ass that first day we met,” he whispers against your lips. “I was having a rough day but it’s no excuse.”

“It’s ok,” you breathe out. “I forgive you.”

He does it again. Sweeps his lips along yours and you hear the quietest moan escape his throat as he leans in closer, pressing his soft, strong mouth to yours and taking your top lip between his.

With a smile forming against your mouth, he tilts his head and kisses you with a heat that rivals the one only minutes ago. His free hand slides around your waist and smooths along the curve of your spine, dragging you up against his body.

Without an audience he kisses you long enough to have you pulling back for need of air.

“Bucky,” you whisper, grabbing his biceps for support.

“I really am sorry,” he murmurs.

“You’re good at that.”

“At what?” he asks, distracted by your mouth again.

“Kissing.”

He hums. “That’s only because I’m kissing you. And I plan to keep kissing you. For as long as you’ll let me.”

“Forever sounds good,” you whisper at the feel of his lips hovering over yours.

“Won’t be long enough but it’s a start doll.”

[4lienat]

“I love you, buddy” 🩷

[starksweasley]

hotel mishap

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: you and bucky can't go five minutes without wanting to slam each other into a wall, so when you're forced into a hotel room with only one bed, years of unresolved tension and bruised pride boil to a breaking point.

wc: 5.1k+

The mission hadn’t been complicated, at least not in theory. Intel retrieval. Get in. Get out. Don’t burn the place down. But when Tony Stark sent you and Bucky Barnes of all people together, the team should’ve known better than to expect anything to go smoothly.

You and Bucky had a history. Not the good kind, not the romantic kind. The infuriating kind. The kind of history carved out of too many close calls and too many missions where one of you almost got the other killed. The kind made of bruises from sparring sessions that always went too far. The kind of history built on snapping at each other across briefing tables, over comms, even in the middle of firefights just to prove a point. It wasn’t that you didn’t work well together. That was the problem: you did. Too well. You always knew what the other was thinking in the field, could fall into rhythm like muscle memory. But the second the mission was over, you were instantly at each other’s throats. You paid too much attention to each other to be indifferent. Your interactions sparked like flint and steel. Every word was a challenge. Every conversation had teeth. And you hated it.

You hated how your eyes always found him the second he walked into a room. How your breath would catch when he rolled up his sleeves or ran a hand through his hair. How his voice, low and rough, always managed to get under your skin no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. You hated how he always found something to criticize. Your gear wasn’t secured tight enough. Your timing was off by two seconds. Your punch was too telegraphed. Your attitude was too cavalier. He always said it like it was tactical, but you could practically taste the irritation that seemed personal.

You told yourself it didn’t matter and that it was mutual loathing. But then there were those other moments: brief, disorienting, soft. The ones where you caught him watching you when he thought you weren’t looking. Not with annoyance. Not with scorn. But with something unreadable. His expression quieter and his eyes gentler, curious, as if he was trying to figure you out. Sometimes it felt like maybe he already had. There was the time on the quinjet when you fell asleep, leaning slightly toward him, exhausted from back-to-back missions. When you jolted awake, you found the blanket he’d sworn had been tucked away now draped over you. He looked away before you could ask. Pretended he was asleep.

Or the time in Bucharest when you'd been limping, your leg aching from a bad landing, and you told him, firmly, that you didn’t need help. He didn’t argue. But you realized later he'd adjusted the whole route back to HQ to avoid stairs. And that night at Stark’s compound, after a celebration mission debrief, drinks flowing, music playing, when the lights were low and you were laughing with Sam. You could feel Bucky's eyes on you from across the room, the way he went quiet, jaw tight. And when Sam leaned in a little too close, you felt the tension spike from across the room like static. You hated that it meant something to you. That he meant something to you. And worse, you hated that part of you was starting to wonder if he hated you, or if he just didn’t know how else to act around you.

Like last month, when you’d gotten grazed by a bullet. You were fine, quickly regrouping after just a scratch. But he’d snapped at you so hard afterward, yanked your arm so fast to check the wound, that you’d ended up shouting at each other for five whole minutes in front of a target that was halfway bleeding out. Or that time in Prague, when you’d both been undercover at the gala. He’d glared at you the whole night because of the backless dress SHIELD made you wear, muttering something about how it was “disrespectful to combat protocols.” You’d glared right back, told him to go marry his tactical gear if he loved it so much.

So now, after a long day of hauling equipment through rain and muck, when you stumbled into the hotel Tony booked for you, it wasn’t surprising that Bucky was already picking a fight before you even reached the elevators.

“Next time, maybe don’t toss the tracker directly at the enemy’s feet,” he muttered, pressing the elevator button with a little too much force.

You whipped your head toward him so fast your hair caught on your lip gloss. “Next time, maybe don’t shoot at the same wall I’m trying to scale, Barnes. It’s called spatial awareness.”

“Maybe if you actually gave a damn about formation, I wouldn’t have to improvise,” he shot back, eyes fixed on the elevator numbers like they’d save him from you.

You scoffed. “Oh, so you playing cowboy with a sniper rifle was improvising? Cute. Let me guess—lone wolf, no attachments, brooding as a personality type?”

“Maybe if you pulled the stick out of your ass, we’d finish a mission without you rolling your eyes every five minutes.”

“Maybe if you didn’t deserve it, I’d stop.”

He turned to look at you finally, brows raised. “You really think you’re the easiest person on this team to work with?”

“I know I am. Ask anyone not named James Barnes.”

He huffed out a dry laugh. “Yeah, maybe I will. Pretty sure Sam has a running list of the ways you drive him insane.”

“Good. Then he can laminate it and hand it out as party favors at the next 'I Survived a Mission With Her’ support group.”

The elevator dinged.

Neither of you moved for a second. The doors opened like an invitation—or a threat.

“This is gonna be a long night,” he muttered, stepping in first.

You followed with a sugar-sweet smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Believe me, I’d rather room with a sewer rat.”

He didn’t look at you, but you heard the sharp exhale through his nose. “Rat might be more cooperative.”

You shrugged, casually brushing dust off your shoulder as you leaned against the mirrored wall. “At least rats don’t mansplain every technical decision I make.”

“At least rats don’t ignore backup calls and then pretend they ‘had it under control’ while bleeding through their damn suit.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Is that concern, Barnes? I’m touched.”

“Don’t be. I just didn’t want to carry your ass out of another warehouse.”

“I never asked you to carry me.”

He turned, stepping just slightly closer. “Oh yeah? Then what was your plan? Bleed dramatically until the enemy got bored and left?”

Your pulse involuntarily kicked up and you dug your nails into the skin of your palm. The elevator beeped again as it passed another floor.

“Well, next time, just let me die. Save yourself the emotional trauma.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Your eyes narrowed, breath a little uneven. “You wouldn’t last a day without someone to argue with.”

He tilted his head, lips twitching with something like amusement. “You think this is arguing?”

You stared at him for one taut second.

And then the elevator dinged again.

You stepped out without another word, not looking back, though you could feel him behind you. 

The walk down the hallway was a gauntlet of mutual grumbling, jabs, and shoulder bumps. He walked too close. You walked too fast. Everything he did grated against your last nerve. When he finally slid the keycard into the lock and pushed open the door, the both of you froze.

There was only one bed.

You cursed Stark in your head so loudly you were sure the walls vibrated.

"Of course," Bucky muttered.

You stepped inside, scanned the room. No couch. No rollout. No armchair. Just one queen-sized bed and the nightstand between it and the window.

"I bet he did this on purpose," you said.

"Tony?"

You nodded. "Sick bastard probably thinks this is funny."

Bucky rolled his eyes and dropped his bag on the nightstand with a thud. "Whatever. I’m not sleeping on the floor."

You walked past him and dropped yourself down onto the hardwood floor beside the bed with exaggerated flair. "Don’t worry. I’ll do it."

He blinked at you. "What? No. I’m not making you sleep on the floor."

"You're not making me," you shot back, already kicking off your boots. "I'm choosing to. Toss me a pillow."

He looked down at the bed, grabbed a pillow, and without a second of hesitation, flung it right at your face. It hit you square in the cheek.

"Ow!"

He shrugged. "You said toss."

You grit your teeth for what felt like the millionth time that day. You were too tired to fight back. Tomorrow. Tomorrow you’d throw him out the window. For now, you laid down, grumbling as the cold from the floorboards seeped into your back.

He climbed into bed with a heavy sigh, muttering, "Stubborn as hell."

"Rich coming from you."

He turned his head to glare down at you. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Talking to you is like talking to a wall. A big, stubborn, bionic wall."

He huffed. "I think you’re forgetting who you’re speaking to."

You scoffed, pulling the pillow tighter under your head. "Oh yeah, the Winter Soldier. Boo hoo. You’re so scary."

"You are an actual menace, you know that?"

"I’m delightful," you replied smugly, shifting your body slightly. And then you mumbled, mostly to yourself, "Fuck, it’s cold. Can you give me a blanket?"

There was a pause. Then the mattress creaked as he leaned over to squint at you. You were clearly shivering. He sighed and peeled the blanket off himself, reaching over the edge and spreading it across your body. "You’re an idiot."

You bristled. "You don’t have to tuck me in like I’m five. I can do it."

"You didn’t seem to be doing a great job whining on the floor like a big baby."

"You’re the baby."

"Real mature."

You looked back up at the bed, at him now lying there with just the pillow. And your stomach sank. He was curled onto his side, arms tucked in close like he was trying to conserve body heat, the thin fabric of his shirt doing nothing to stop the cold. His metal arm was half-buried under the pillow, and the way his shoulders hunched in made him look smaller. Uncomfortable. Still and tense like he refused to shiver.

"Wait. There was only one blanket?"

He didn’t answer. You swore. "Fuck. I’m sorry. Here. Take it back."

He rolled onto his back, waving a hand. "No. It’s fine. You need it more than I do."

You narrowed your eyes and tossed the blanket back on top of him. "Shut up. Take it."

He pulled it up over his chest but muttered anyway, "Happy?"

"No. I’m cold."

He turned to face you, a scowl painting his features. "Oh my God. Just come up here then."

"I’m scared you’ll kill me in my sleep."

"You’re ridiculous. I won’t kill you. I’d be dumb to kill the one person whose job is to watch my six."

"I’m fine," you said, despite the fact your teeth were actually starting to chatter.

He rolled his eyes, clearly done with your shit. In one swift motion, he got out of bed, crouched down, and hooked an arm around your waist.

"Hey! What the hell?!" You flailed, but it was too late. He tossed you onto the bed like you weighed nothing.

He climbed back under the blanket. "Suck it up so we can both be warm."

You shot back upright, indignant, glaring at him. "You caveman! What if I wanted to be cold?"

He didn’t look at you. "Then you shouldn’t have said anything."

You grumbled under your breath, but the bed was warmer. And soft. And smelled like fresh linen and frustration. You both laid there in silence. The tension still sat between you, but the warmth slowly began to bleed the edge off your anger. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was sheer desperation. But lying there next to Bucky Barnes, with the bed radiating more tension than heat, your body rebelled.

You pushed off the mattress, intending to throw yourself right back onto the floor, cold be damned. But before you could even swing your leg off the bed, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

“What the hell—” you hissed, struggling.

He pulled you back, firm and unrelenting, dragging you against the mattress. “Stop being a brat,” he muttered.

“Get off me!”

“Jesus, woman—will you stop—”

You twisted, kicked back, trying to wiggle free. His grip never tightened, not enough to hurt, but it was firm, anchored.

“Bucky!” you snapped, yanking your arm. “I can’t sleep with you next to me!”

He let out a noise between a growl and a groan, dragging a hand down his face. “I can’t let you freeze to death, don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not being stupid!” Your voice cracked. “I have my reasons.”

His grip softened. He wasn’t looking at you like he wanted to fight anymore. Just…confused. Tired. “Whatever they are,” he said, “I’d still rather you sleep on the bed.”

You swatted at his arm, slipping from his hold and scrambling upright in one defiant motion. “No, Bucky. I just—I can’t be around you this much.”

That did it.

His calm, already on thin ice, finally cracked.

He sat up, blanket falling into his lap as he glared at you, voice raised. “What the hell are you talking about? We have to work together.”

“It’s too hard,” you said, arms crossed tight over your chest.

“What’s too hard?” he demanded. “We’re on a goddamn mission. Missions aren’t supposed to be comfortable!”

You shook your head, voice rising now too. “No. I can do missions in my sleep. But doing it with you—I just—I—I—”

He blinked, voice quieter. “You just what?”

You snapped.

“You make me feel horrible, Bucky!”

The room fell to a choking silence. You were trembling.

“You just…you make me feel so small. And I’m tough, I don’t care what people think, not usually. But you—you obviously hate me and you make it obvious every chance you get. Every snide comment, every look, every time you act like I’m a burden—you make me feel insignificant and stupid and just so fucking small.”

You were standing now, arms wrapped around the pillow like it could shield you. Your voice broke, your breathing shallow. “And I wouldn’t care, I really wouldn’t, but I just…”

Bucky had gone still. His hands rubbed at his temples like he was trying to will the moment away, trying to piece together how the hell he had messed this up so badly.

“I don’t hate you,” he muttered. “I don’t think you’re insignificant or stupid. I don’t think any of those things.”

You scoffed bitterly. “I know you do. You don’t have to pretend. Not now.”

“I’m not pretending.” He stood now, too, but didn’t move toward you. Just watched as you gripped the pillow tighter like it was the only thing keeping you from breaking apart completely.

You looked up at him, blinking hard. “And I can’t ignore it because I feel—”

You stopped yourself. Too much. You’d already said too much.

His brow creased. “You feel what?”

Your hand flew to your mouth. “Just…forget it.”

“No,” he said, voice sharp now. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut down on me. Finish the goddamn sentence.”

“Fuck you,” you spat, eyes wide and watery. “Leave me alone, Bucky!”

“No, I’m not leaving you alone.” He was stalking toward you now. “You’re gonna say what you were gonna say. Finish that damn sentence!”

You flung the pillow at him like a shield, full force. He caught it easily (of course he did) and tossed it aside, stepping forward.

You took a step back. “Leave me alone,” you begged, your voice too high, too desperate.

“No.” He was in front of you now. “No, I’m not leaving you alone.”

His hand caught your wrist again with intention. “Finish. That. Sentence.”

You jerked against him. “Don’t tell me what to do!”

His jaw clenched. “Stop being such a pain in my ass,” he snapped, exasperated. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you’re being so damn difficult. Why are you like this?”

You cried out, the frustration boiling over. “I said more than I meant to say! Just leave me alone!”

But instead of backing off, he pulled you in closer. His hand still around your wrist, his other now pressed to the small of your back. His voice was lower now, ragged.

“I’m not going to let you go until you finish that sentence.”

Your breath hitched. You tried to pull away again, but the fight was dissolving out of you. The words clawed their way up your throat.

“You wanna know what’s on my mind?” you shouted, voice hoarse. “Fine. Fine. I can’t ignore you hating me because I have feelings for you, god damn it!”

The air sucked out of the room.

His grip loosened instantly.

You pulled your wrist away, free again, but too stunned to move. You couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t do anything except stand there and breathe too fast.

He was staring at you as if he was just really seeing you for the first time. 

“You… you what?” he whispered.

You turned away, face burning. “Just leave me alone.”

But of course he didn’t. 

“You have feelings for me?” he said again, like he couldn’t believe the words.

“Stop,” you pleaded, quietly.

His voice softened, but it didn’t waver. “We’re not done talking about this.”

“Yes we are.”

“No,” he said, and now his hand was on your shoulder, gentle. “We’re not.”

You looked up at him then—eyes red, face guarded. “You’re just going to reject me. I know how this goes, Bucky. Just save me the embarrassment. Please.”

He shook his head slowly, expression shifting—open, raw, almost pained. “Why would I reject you?”

You let out a laugh that was half-sob. “I see how you talk to me. How you treat me different from everyone else. You hate me.”

He gripped both your shoulders now, making you look at him directly.

“I don’t hate you,” he said. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but I don’t hate you.”

You flinched at the intensity of his voice. “Your actions say otherwise.”

He exhaled, eyes closing like he needed to collect every ounce of patience in his body. Then he opened them, stepping even closer, and for the first time all night, his voice dropped into something achingly vulnerable.

“I know,” he murmured. “I know, doll.”

Your breath hitched at the nickname.

“I know I’ve been harsh,” he said. “I’ll admit it. But it’s because—”

You don’t wait to hear it. You pull out of his hold and drop back down onto your makeshift floor bed with a soft thud, your back to him. Every muscle in your body coils tight.

He watches you in silence. And then, finally, he speaks, voice filled with something between concern and devastation.

“Will you please just look at me?”

“I’m tired,” you whisper. Your voice trembles.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “If you’re tired, you’ll sleep better on the bed.”

You flinch like he’s offered violence instead of comfort.

“Bucky, I can’t look at you,” you snap. “Just leave me alone.”

His voice sharpens. “I’m not leaving you alone until you get your stubborn ass up on this bed.”

You don’t move. Not a breath. Not a twitch.

He doesn’t warn you before he steps over, leans down, and wraps his arm around your waist again. “Alright. You asked for it.”

“Bucky—”

He lifts you, but you jerk halfway through, and pain slices up your side.

“Fuck, ouch!”

He stops cold. Sets you down on the edge of the bed, carefully this time. His face folds into immediate concern.

“Talk to me. Please,” he says again, crouching in front of you now. He lowers himself carefully, balancing on the balls of his feet, arms resting on his thighs. He looks like he’s explaining something to a scared kid rather than someone who’s spent years arguing with him. His eyes are so unbearably tender, aching in a way you’ve never seen, that you could sink into them and cry until there was nothing left.

“Just talk to me.”

You turn your head away, blinking hard. “I did. I told you everything.”

“And I’m not going to shoot you down,” he says. “So stop acting like I already have. Just please. Help me out here. Listen to me.”

There’s something raw in his voice. Something ragged. It softens the wall around your chest just enough to make you turn your head. He straightens up, slowly, voice calm but firm.

“I don’t hate you. I don’t think you’re stupid. I don’t think you’re insignificant. God, why do you insist on thinking all this bullshit?”

You stare at him, the words catching in your throat. “Because you never look at me with anything other than a glare. You never talk to me unless you have to. You always jump in front of me on missions like I’m too weak to do it myself. And you treat everyone else so much better.”

His eyes flare. “Are you kidding me?”

You blink.

“It’s not because I think you’re weak.” His tone shifts, full of disbelief. “It’s the opposite. I don’t sit next to you because I get too goddamn distracted. You walk into a room, and my head goes to shit.”

You say nothing.

He inches his chest closer.

“And of course I’m going to jump in front of you on missions. That’s not because I think you can’t handle it. It’s because I can’t fucking handle the thought of something happening to you.”

Your breath leaves your lungs in one soft exhale.

You shake your head. “Then what, Bucky? You just—you make me feel so shitty. And you treat everyone else so kindly.”

“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again,” he interrupts, eyes shining with something he’s clearly been holding back. “I don’t treat you like the others because… because I’m different around you, okay?”

You’re stunned.

“You make me feel different,” he continues, voice quieter now. “You change me. You get under my skin. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a really long time. And it scares the hell out of me.”

You don’t move. You don’t breathe. Because if you do, you’ll fall apart.

He’s watching you now. Carefully. Like if he says the wrong word, you’ll bolt again.

You’re looking at him like you’re waiting for him to laugh, to flinch, to take it all back. He doesn’t. He just stares. Silent. Waiting. Heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

“You’re not making any sense, Bucky.”

He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair, then throws it down at his side. “What do you want me to say, huh?” His voice breaks. “I told you that you make me feel different! That you make me feel things I haven’t felt in a very long time! What more do you want from me?”

You yell back before you can stop yourself, “What the fuck does that even mean?!”

He looks down at his hands. His shoulders rise and fall with a slow, heavy breath, like he’s trying to pull himself together before he falls apart entirely. Like this is the most terrifying thing he’s ever had to explain. And then, softly, steadily, he tries again.

“It means that when I’m around you, I feel things I haven’t felt in years. Intense things. Emotions I thought I didn’t have anymore. It’s like—like something in me sparks to life when you’re near. Something that’s been dormant for so damn long I forgot what it felt like.”

You scoff, your voice still shaky, still guarded. “What? More hatred?”

He looks up at you so fast, eyes blazing. “Listen to me right now,” he nearly growls. “I do not hate you. I have never hated you. I’ve been trying to tell you that for so goddamn long, but you won’t listen to me, will you? No. Instead, you just keep deciding what I think. You insist on believing these bullshit stories in your head instead of what I’m saying to you right now.”

You shake your head, eyes stinging. You know you’re being ridiculous but you can’t bring yourself to believe the words flooding out of his mouth. “You’re being so vague, Bucky.”

He throws his hands up, finally snapping. “What the hell do you want me to say? You want me to spell it out for you? Fine. I will.”

His hands fly to grab the sides of your face and you jolt, deeply aware of the way your heartbeat is thudding in your ears.

“You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a very damn long time. You make me feel things like… like happiness. Joy. Excitement. You make me feel alive, and it scares the shit out of me because I don’t know how to deal with it. I haven’t known how to deal with it for a long fucking time. But you? You make me want to try, because I have all these damn feelings for you!” He shook his head slightly, almost breathless. “And for the life of me, I can’t figure out why, because all we ever do is fight, and I’ve never done this before, and you drive me insane, and somehow, still... it’s you.”

Your breath catches. Your hands fall limp at your sides.

He watches you closely, expression taut with vulnerability. “What?” he murmurs. “You’re silent now?”

You bite your lip hard. It trembles. “So I guess you don’t hate me.”

“No, doll. I don’t hate you.”

He pushes his face even closer to yours. Your bodies are just centimeters apart now. The heat between you hums with something quieter than anger. Something real. Heavy.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but his finger gently presses against your lips.

“No,” he says, voice thick. “Stop being stubborn. Just for one second.”

He drops his hand, but his gaze doesn’t leave your mouth. And you know. You know he wants to kiss you.

You know because you want to kiss him.

His eyes flick up to yours again, and your heart beats so fast you think it might shake out of your chest.

“I-It’s just…” you whisper, voice cracking, “it’s so hard to believe you right now.”

His hands cradle your elbows now. Not pulling. Just holding.

“What do I do,” he asks quietly, “to make you believe that I’m in love with you?”

You blink, shoulders coming up in a shrug. 

“I’m falling in love with you.”

There’s no dramatics in the way he says it. No fanfare. Just truth. Sharp. Clear. Like it’s been there the whole time, waiting for someone to ask. Your knees nearly buckle.

“You’re falling in love with me?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

“I am,” he says, stepping even closer. “I’ve been an asshole about it. I’ve fought it. I’ve buried it under a pile of sarcasm and bad moods and shitty timing, but I’ve been falling for a long time. Since that day you fell asleep next to me on that mission, curled up like you trusted me not to hurt you, and I realized I’d kill for you before I’d let anyone try.”

You don’t know when your hands came up to his chest. They’re just there now, fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt like he’s the only thing holding you up.

“I thought you couldn’t stand me,” you whisper. “I thought I was just the annoying one.”

He chuckles, but it’s hoarse. “You are annoying. And smart. And infuriating. And capable. And goddamn brilliant. And you drive me crazy, but it’s not the kind of crazy I can walk away from.”

Your laugh is wet, disbelieving. “I don’t know what to say.”

He leans in until his forehead rests gently against yours. “You don’t have to say anything.”

You close your eyes.

And for a moment, you just breathe.

The warmth of him, the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling against yours, the sheer weight of everything unsaid that’s finally come to light. It's almost too much.

Then, softly, you whisper, “You can kiss me, if you want.”

He goes still, just for a second. Like he’s checking to make sure he heard you right. Like he’s trying to stop the world from tilting under his feet. And then he moves. No hesitation. No questions.

His mouth crashes into yours, and it’s not gentle. It’s not slow. It’s everything. It’s the snap of a rubber band stretched too far. The break in a storm. The kind of kiss that burns through skin, through bone, through everything you thought you knew about what this was.

His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing just beneath your cheekbone with a tenderness that shouldn’t belong in a kiss this desperate. He kisses you like he’s trying to memorize you, like the shape of your mouth might slip through his fingers if he’s not careful. Like he’s scared you’ll disappear.

Your fingers tangle in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, anchoring yourself to him like you’re drowning. And maybe you are, because this is too much, too fast, too real. Years of biting remarks and furious glances collapse into heat.

You tilt your head, deepen the kiss, and his breath hitches. He responds instantly, his other hand sliding around your waist, dragging you into him until there’s no space left between you. The fabric of your clothes is too thin, too irritating, too in the way. You gasp softly when his lips leave yours for just a heartbeat and trail down the edge of your jaw, his nose brushing your skin, breath hot and unsteady.

“Fuck,” he whispers against your neck, voice hoarse. “You drive me crazy.”

You laugh, a sound that’s shaky, breathless, a little wild. His lips find yours again, slower this time. Deeper. Less fire, more gravity. Like now that he has you, he’s trying to learn every inch of the moment.

And you let him.

When you finally break apart, your breath hitches again. This time not from fear. This time, it’s hope. It’s exhilaration. 

He presses his forehead back to yours, voice a little breathless.

“We’re still gonna fight all the time, aren’t we?”

You grin widely, chest still heaving. “Absolutely.”

He chuckles, thumb brushing your cheek.

“But I love you anyway,” you whisper.

He looks at you like you just saved his life.

And this time, when he pulls you into the bed beside him, you don’t fight him.

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.

Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.

She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.

Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.

-

You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; she’d also become a good friend after your many visits.

The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.

“Come in!” You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- “Oh my God!!” You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.

"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.

"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"

"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"

"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.

"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.

"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.

"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"

"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.

"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.

"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"

"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.

“Shit” you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.

It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...

"Better stop making those sounds"

"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.

"Princess..."

"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"

-

You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.

"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"

You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.

"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"

You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.

"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"

"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"

"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.

"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"

-

"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.

"You alright angel?"

"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.

"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.

"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.

"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"

Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.

"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.

"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.

-

"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.

"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.

"Wasn't me"

-

just an idea.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Like a Phoenix - Masterlist

Pairing: Mercenary!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Series Summary: An attack on your palace thrusts your only hope for survival into the hands of a mercenary who is forced to protect you, all due to a vow he made many years before. Though, those are circumstances neither of you have chosen.

Word Count: 92.2k

Warnings: enemies to lovers; slow burn; Bucky is harsh on reader for a while; mentions of murder, fire, death, knives, blood; loss of parents; violence; injuries; fever; sexism; prejudices; knife throwing; theft; crying; classism; manhandling; self-loathing; talk of betrayal; talk of arranged marriage; suggestive themes; kissing; protective!Bucky

Author’s Note: This is the story that received the highest number of votes in last month's WIP poll. I inquired through another poll if you all preferred this to be a series or a one-shot, and well, here we are. I don’t know how long this will end up being, but I guess about 6-7 chapters. Hope you'll enjoy! ♡

Masterlist

♡ This series is complete ♡

Requests for bonus chapters are open

~ Chapters ~

• part one

• part two

• part three

• part four

• part five

• part six

• part seven

• part eight

• part nine

• part ten

• epilogue

“And just as the Phoenix rose from the ashes, she too will rise. Returning from the flames, clothed in nothing but her strength, more beautiful than ever before.”

- ShannenHeartzs

[justkending]

It's just a papercut... (Drabble)

Summary: Mission one-on-one with Bucky? It's been done before. So why is this one different? Why is he acting weird and not letting me storm off in a rage at his cold shoulder? Also, was the one bed necessary?

Pairing: Grumpy Bucky x Avenger Reader (Enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 7000+ (It's a long one...)

A/N: I've been spending a lot of my time on Character ChatGPT AI, and a secret agent conversation made me say, " Yeah, I need to put this into a Bucky fanfic." So here we are🥰 Did it turn a lot more emotional than I planned? Yes. Do I regret it? No. Enjoy, my loves!!

_____

"Jesus! The goal is to survive the mission! And from the likes of it, bullets aren't even going to be the thing that finishes the job!" I shout over the whipping wind as Bucky maneuvers through cars in the foreign country while outrunning the guards we just escaped from on a motorcycle he stole in front of a shop.

"Shut it!" he shouts back, taking another sharp turn that has me clutching on as if one wrong blow of the wind will have me ending this chase with a case of road rash on my entire body. "I'm losing them."

"And likely me with them," I grumble, and he shoots me a quick look in the rearview mirror, showing that he heard my remark and didn't care for it.

I look behind us and see one of the jackasses we were running from has joined us in motorcycle theft, and I curse under my breath as I come up with a plan.

"Goon, five o'clock!" I announce as I dig into my boot for a small handgun I keep hidden.

Bucky looks around and clocks him. His teeth grit together as he kicks the speed up, weaves through a few cars, and turns down a new street, but the man following seems to be just as skilled in bike chases.

"Still on you!" I shout and let out an annoyed groan, realizing that at some point in our mission, I'd lost my backup weapon.

"I see that!" Bucky groans, and as we pass a fruit stand on the street, he knocks it over with his metal hand, causing a traffic stop and the motorcyclist to have to drive over apples and pears, making him lose his balance some.

However, it wasn't effective enough. "I got it," I sigh as Bucky takes another sharp turn, and I clutch onto him. "Do me a favor and try and stay straight for longer than 3 seconds!" I complain, and he complies, although begrudgingly.

I point my fist towards the bike, and as the man makes mean eyes at me, I wiggle my fingers at him with a grin before shooting a taser shock out of the widow bite Nat gifted me.

They shoot across and cause his entire bike to seize at the overload of electricity. He flies off the bike as it stutters and gives Bucky and me a clean escape down an alley.

A few alleys later and a quiet spot away from the chaos that had just ensued, Bucky and I hop off the bike and hide it behind a dumpster. I catch my breath as I throw my backpack over my shoulder and watch as he covers the bike more with the lid of the trash before grabbing his own pack.

"We need to lay low for the night," I note, adjusting my backpack and looking into the dead-end alley.

He sighed, taking in the area, and I could see the pistons firing in his head. "There's a hotel not far from here that'll work. Not shitty, but also not anything fancy." He immediately starts stalking away, not waiting for me to follow.

I huff in annoyance as he leaves me, and I fasten my backpack, buckling it across my chest before jogging to catch up with his long strides.

We don't say much as we get to the hotel- both of our minds coming down from the adrenaline and running through the last pieces of the mission.

While in the lobby of the hotel, I get a call and move to take it, seeing it's Steve checking in, and I leave Bucky to handle the check-in process.

"Got it. We'll head to the airport in the morning," I nod and turn around to see Bucky confirming something with the clerk, and I turn back to the phone.

When he finishes checking in (fake IDs with real payment thanks to Stark's ways), he turns and waves his hand toward the elevator in a quick hand gesture.

"Yeah. We're fine," I note, feeling a stitch in my side but not wanting to check just how bad the damage is until I'm behind a closed door. "He's being a dick as per usual," I chuckle lightly as I start my walk to the elevators. "No, Steve. I don't need you to call him and reprimand him. You know-... Seriously, Steve. Leave it... I said it as a joke more than anything-" He cuts me off again, ready to always put Bucky in his place with the cold shoulder he seems to love to give to only me.

When I make it to the elevator, where Bucky is holding the door impatiently for me, I quickly say, "Losing you! Getting in an elevator so I can't-" There's a protest on the other end. "What was that? It's cutting out." I say in stuttered beats to play it off before hanging up. "Steve says hi," I say to Bucky as I lock my phone and shove it in my back pocket.

"Sure," he says back, and I'm not sure if it's unconvinced or unbothered... or both. Either way, his face is still stoic.

"You really need to lighten up," I sigh in a deep breath, annoyed that he never relents his tough guy act around me.

"Don't feel like."

"Do you ever?"

The elevator is silent. The only sound is the mechanics of the metal box moving up. It eventually dings, and as I go to step forward, I grimace slightly so as I step wrong, causing pain to go up my side, but I quickly brush it off.

"What was that?" Bucky says behind me as he steps off the elevator last.

"What was what?" I ask, looking carefully at the room numbers and acting ignorant.

"That look. You flinched."

"Yeah, no," I shake my head. "Your eyesight must be getting worse with age."

"My eyesight is fine," he grumbles, pulling my arm back as I pass the room, realizing he never told me the number. "We're here," he turns to the door and presses the key card to it. The color changes from red to green, giving us access.

"I call the shower first," I shout, shoving him out of the way and unbuckling my backpack as I rush into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it.

All I hear is an exasperated sigh on the other side and a shuffle of footsteps as he shuts the door, locks up, and moves into the room.

I let out a sigh of exhaustion and relief to be done for the day and move to warm up the water. If there is one thing I've learned about going on missions with Bucky, it's that the man's superhearing is just an excuse for him to be nosy. He listens to almost EVERYTHING.

So, with the water running and him hopefully distracted by the hotel views, I undress and focus on the shower. As soon as I took my shirt off, I was shown exactly what I worried was the problem.

Down my side is a semi-jagged cut going up my rib cage. Close to four inches long, if not less, but angry and red. I hiss and quickly bite my lip to muffle my pain. It's not bleeding anymore, which tells me it's not deep, so with the proper cleaning and care, it'll be fine in a few days. I use my time in the shower to clean it and wash the rest of the day away with it.

When I come out, I rummage through my bag for a first aid kit. I usually pack a travel-size one, given the job, but I can't find it. I change into a pair of clean shorts and a tank top I packed (light and takes up minimal space) before checking in the mirror to make sure my cut wasn't prominent through the light-colored tank. When I feel comfortable enough that Bucky won't ask questions, I straighten and fight the soreness that's taking over my body now that I'm not going 100mph.

I walk out, and when I see that Bucky is lying back, arms over his eyes on a king-size bed, I immediately take in the fact that it's the only bed in the room. The sound of cheers from baseball on the TV is quickly tuned out.

"Um," I start, hands out as I assess the space. "What's this?" I ask.

"A bed," Bucky answers simply and sits up tiredly as he looks at me, leaning back on his forearms. "You ran straight into the bathroom before I could tell you, or you saw for yourself."

I cross my arms and flinch when I graze my cut but quickly roll my shoulders as if the full-body soreness was the only issue.

"Well, did they not give us another option or maybe a second room we could have-"

"What was that?" he cuts me off.

"Hm, what was what? What do you mean-?" I look right at him and furrow my eyebrows, hands on my hips.

"You made that face again."

I roll my eyes. "I'm sore," I shrug, scoffing and even I know I'm a horrible actress right now, so I don't make eye contact.

"That's not a sore grimace. That's something else," he sits up straight now and tilts his head down, assessing me in almost a predatory way.

"Stop that." My arms move from my hips to my chest and around me, and my discomfort only makes a smirk appear. "Stop. It's weird."

"No, what's weird is why you're being so weird," he remarks with a sassy face.

I blink at him a few times, feeling much less intimidated thanks to his comeback. "Good one," I said, turning and going to his backpack now.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He stands quickly from the bed and looks at me over my shoulder as I unzip his bag.

"I think I put something of mine in here. I can't find it in my bag," I note, dunking my hand into his things. He steps up, pulling my shoulders to get away.

"Stop going through my stuff. You're worse than Sam," he notes, tugging me away, although gentler than how he is typically.

"I just need-" I feel the small plastic box I'm looking for and tug it out, quickly holding it behind my back. "Nevermind. I found it."

"What are you talking about-"

"Nothing! Just give me one minute. I need to brush my teeth," I jab a thumb behind my shoulder as I walk backward to the bathroom, his steps matching mine. "I'll be out in five minutes," I note quickly as I turn on my heel and run back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it again.

Instead of seeing the door handle budge like I expected, he bangs a fist on the wooden barrier.

"Y/N, open the damn door! What the hell did you take out of my bag?"

"My toothbrush!" I lie. Why didn't I say toothpaste? That would make so much more sense... "I must have gotten our bags mixed up when I packed them." I cringe at myself.

"How could you do that? Yours is brown, and mine's black," he notes.

"A very dark brown," I argue, lifting my tank top and sitting on the bathroom counter to get a better look in the mirror of my cut. "Just give me a second-"

"You're being weirder than normal," he groans in frustration on the other side.

"Yeah, well, get used to it," I hiss as I put the sanitizer spray on it and bite my knuckle to suppress the pained groan I want to let out. "Jesus," I mumble under my breath, but the next thing I know, the door is swinging open, and Bucky's staring at its handle that's hanging on by a thread before back at me. "Hey!" I look at the door and back at him. "They're going to charge us for that."

His eyes immediately go from annoyed and over it to concerned and confused.

"What the hell is that?" He points at my stomach, where I'm frozen on top of the counter, shirt lifted, showing my entire torso and cut on full display.

"A paper cut." Dear God. What the hell happened to my logical excuses?

His concerned face drops some, and he deadpans from my injury to my eyes before marching to me and turning me at my shoulders to face him and get a better view.

"When did this happen?"

"Wild guess, but likely when the guards we fought to get out pulled a knife on me and played dirty," I sigh, realizing I wasn't talking myself out of this one anytime soon. "But that could be a stretch," I add.

He again looks up at me from my injury with an incredulous and agitated look.

"Let me see," he sighs, bending down to get a better view and looking at the injury from a head-on angle.

"It's just a scratch, Barnes. I'll be good as new after a little disinfectant and ointment. Nothing a bandaid can't fix," I brush off, turning on the counter to grab the kit.

He stops me in my turn by placing a hand on my knee and turning me back around to where my legs hang off the counter. I'm sitting with him in between my legs.

"They used a serrated knife," he notes, taking the first aid kit out of my hand and opening it, instantly getting to work as if I wasn't doing it myself two seconds ago.

"Um, excuse me, but I can-"

"I know the things you can do, Y/N. You don't have to tell me," he says sternly, grabbing gauze and another bottle of something I didn't know the contents of and tipping it onto the gauze before bending down again. This time, his eyes found mine as he looked up at me from his now crouched position. "This is going to sting. That sanitizer you were using before is shit. This one actually does the job," he notes, and I'm a little stunned by the turn of events. "Ready?"

Never in my life did I think Bucky Barnes would be this gentle and considerate with me, but I'm not going to stop a good thing from happening.

"I don't think it can hurt more than the knife itself," I smirk and nod when he gives me a look. "Yeah, yeah. Do your thing, Doc." I gesture to him, looking up at the ceiling as I prepare for the sting.

I don't feel it instantly, and just as I'm about to ask what was taking him so long, the cool liquid hits my cut, and I hiss, grabbing his wrist in a tight hold out of instinct to hold him back. "Jesus H. Christ," I grit through my teeth. "What the hell kind of acid did you just put in-?" I let out a slow breath through my lips and quietly say, "I'd pick the knife again. I'd pick the knife again. The knife for sure."

"It's Banner-strength disinfectant," he says with a stupid little prideful smirk, yet is dabbing the cut ever so gently as I hold his wrist. His touch is soft, but the sting is anything but. "You grabbed my first aid kit. I had him make it since you tend to get hurt easily, and we're not in the cleanest country." He's fully concentrated on my cut.

"What?" I asked, surprised, grabbing the kit's container and seeing that it indeed was not mine. I brush over the fact he had Bruce specifically make it and pack it for me as I look over at my bag, still slumped against the wall from my rush to take a shower, and realize I must have forgotten mine.

"Relax. Tensing doesn't help," he adds, bringing his free hand to my thigh and giving a light squeeze to distract me. I hiss again as he pads over an agitated area.

All sense of humor drops slowly from his face, and he gives me a look. "Y/N, why didn't you tell me about this as soon as you knew? This was not far from being infected in a way that could have been a lot worse than just an irritating sting."

"When was I supposed to tell you?" I sass, throwing my head back on the mirror as I focus on anything but the sharp stings. "As soon as we got off the bike, we headed here. You didn't say a word to me, and I was in my own head. Honestly, I didn't even realize it was there until we were checking in and I was on the phone with Steve. Adrenaline must have kept me from realizing it."

He mumbles something under his breath, and I hear the word, reckless in the middle of it.

"Watch yourself," I warn, kicking my leg a touch, skimming his rib cage. "There can easily be two injured people in this room."

"No need for both of us to get stupid injuries," he grumbles.

I scoff and shove his hand away from me, jumping off the counter as he stands and glares at me.

"Sorry for getting stabbed," I sneer up at him, stepping into his space. "I'll make sure to ask the assholes shooting and swinging at me next time to keep the knives at home. Oh! Or better yet," I exaggerate. "I'll tell them my partner said I'm not allowed to get into fights with men triple my size, so if they can just play gentle so I don't end up with any battle scars, that would be greatly appreciated." I smile wide and fake before dropping it and brushing by him to the bedroom.

I catch the tail end of his eyes rolling before I hear him stomping behind me.

"I need to finish patching you up. If it's not done properly, you can get sick." He comes up behind me, but I stop abruptly, and he runs into my back before holding my shoulders to steady himself. I turn to him, not breaking the space.

"I know how injuries work, Barnes. This isn't my first time in the field, although I'm sure you believe otherwise," I scoff in anger. "Just," I put my hands up, stepping away in frustration and groaning. "I'm going to get some air," I try and push past him to leave, but his hand wraps around my arm and holds me shoulder to shoulder by his side before I can get my feet past him.

"No. You're going to let me finish patching you up. Now..." he stares at me with his Sergeant's eyes. "Sit. Down." I struggle to fight my stubborn retort, but he sees it brewing and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

I groan in protest loudly and pull my arm out of my grip before moving to the edge of the bed and sulkingly wait for him to finish his job- that I didn't ask him to even start, by the way!

"Good girl," he mutters with a smartass smirk, and I take a breath in to yell something at him, but he goes back to the bathroom to grab the kit we left behind.

"Cyborg headed-ass, caveman, son of a bit-" I mumble, and he comes back in, shooting me a look that says, 'really?'. "Oh, sorry, did you hear that?" I say with fake regret.

He rolls his eyes and crouches again by my knees to get a better angle at the cut, and I lean back, my hands flat against the comforter as he works quietly, and I stare up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the warmth of his hands on my stomach when he's been nothing but cold to me.

As he's patting the tape over the piece of gauze he fashioned over my cut, I look at him calculatingly. He notices my gaze on him and awkwardly starts putting his things up, sneaking glances at my stare here and there.

"What?" he finally asks. "Stop staring at me."

Instead of an answer, I just stare harder and raise an eyebrow, tilting my head to the side as I analyze him deeper.

"Cut it out," he growls, standing and moving to put the kit on the counter. "You're creeping me out."

I let out a single laugh and shake my head before lowering my tank top and looking out the window. "You're so fucking confusing," I state, standing as I straighten my clothes.

"I'm confusing?" he asked rhetorically. "You're fucking confusing."

"Come up with your own lines," I throw an exasperated hand out, waving him off. "I'm getting air."

I don't know what provokes him, but he steps in front of me, his towering figure shadowing over me.

"No," he says, looking at me sternly.

"There wasn't a question mark at the end of that sentence, asshole," I sidestep him and move to the door. I manage to open it maybe a foot before it's slammed in my face, and I feel Bucky's chest pressed to my back. I look up, and his hand is splayed flat on the door.

"I said no," he says lowly. His voice is just over my shoulder, and I hold back the shiver that threatens to take over my body.

"And I said, fuck off," I say just as lowly, looking up at him, tilting my head back. "Move."

"We need to talk."

"And I need to put a good three blocks of this city between us so I don't add another person to the stabbed today club. I'd rather stay on Steve's good side." I jut my arm back to elbow him in the ribs, but he dodges it with a huff of an annoyed laugh.

"Real mature," he sasses, and I can see a touch of playfulness in his features, and that makes me even more furious.

"You're one to fucking talk!" I turn and shove him in the chest, and he relents, putting his hands up in the air as I shove repeatedly in vexation. Each shove and each curse I send his way has him taking one slight step back with a grin. "Stop smiling!" I grunt as I push him harder, and he laughs. He fucking laughs!

My eye twitches, and my hits become more forceful. Nothing close to what I'm capable of, but I'm not looking for a full-on brawl. I just want to smack him enough to wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

"Y/N," he says calmly in between hits to his rock-solid chest. A chest, I'm sure, will give me bruises if I keep this up.

"No! You don't get to talk!" I point at him after shoving him one more time and successfully making him falter a few steps back at the power behind it. "I'm walking out of this room to get some air, and you're going to stay right fucking there. Right there!" I point to the floor under his feet. "And not keep me from leaving this God damn suffocating room. Got it?"

I know my eyes are wild, and I know the emotions I'm feeling are written clear as day on my face because his sly smirk falters, and he takes a deep breath in, hands still up in surrender.

"I'm sorry," he mutters out as his gaze falls to his feet.

"What?" I ask, shocked and slightly out of breath from exerting myself.

"I'm sorry," he says a touch more clearly as he clears his throat and looks up, hands coming down and eyes avoiding mine.

I blink a few times and throw my hands up. "I can't do this." I let out a breath and turned back to the door.

"Y/N, please don't," he says, and I stop. I surprise myself, but I stop, turning back to him slowly.

"Why?" There's a long pause that follows my question, and I wonder whether Bucky even knows why he's asking this. "Genuinely Bucky... Why are you so insistent on me staying in this room right now?"

He runs a nervous hand over his beard and shifts his weight to one foot as he throws one hand up in a single wave.

"I don't need you getting hurt again," he states, still avoiding eye contact.

My eyebrows narrow in confusion, and I cross my arms, popping my hip to the side as I stare at him. "We're in a hotel. Not a battlefield."

"It's better we stay in here than wander around. The guys who were after us are likely still hunting us, and it's best we don't show our faces in public spaces," he notes.

Ok, that's a logical reason, but something tells me this is a more emotional reason on his end. He's not sharing everything, though...

"Ok..." I drag out and look at the balcony. "Then I'll go out there."

I walk promptly to the balcony, surprisingly not being stopped by him as I brush past him and jiggle the door handle, finding it stuck. "Fucking hell," I grumble under my breath as I pull the handle and push it up and down to try and get it to work.

A hand comes behind me and takes the door handle for me. I stare at it, not turning to acknowledge how Bucky expertly pushes it just right for it to open.

"I had the same issue," he says, pulling his hand back and nodding his head to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower." He steps back, quiet and sinking back into his usual stand-offish behavior, but now with more nerves and awkwardness.

I give a grunt in acknowledgment and shut the balcony door behind me before sitting in a shitty lawn chair. I don't turn to see if he's still standing there watching me, but instead, I focus on the city view in front of me. It's not a well-off country, so the views aren't more than rundown buildings and vendors in the street shouting for people to buy their things over their neighbors, but it's fresh air away from the man that makes my blood boil.

Fifteen minutes later, I feel a little calmer. Although still annoyed, I'm more confused than anything. Why the hell was he acting so strange, and why do I feel like some kind of serious conversation was going to-

"Y/N?" I hear the door open with a creak and turn to see Bucky with wet hair, a change of clothes, and soft eyes focusing on the door that's obviously broken. "God, this place has gone down in quality," he notes, leaving the door cracked as he comes onto the balcony with me.

"Been here before?" I ask, turning back to the view ahead.

"Once like 8 years ago," he nods and moves to stand by the railing, his arms crossed over the edge of it, and his gaze now focused on the same place mine is. "Must have gotten new management."

It's silent for almost five minutes after that. No words, no looks, no sounds. Just silence outside of the city noise. I debate, standing and going back into the room if he's going to continue to go radio silent and not explain his strange behavior earlier, but just before I stand, he speaks up.

"I don't know why," he says, and a crease forms between my eyebrows. He continues to stare off into the city. I wait a few moments, and he continues. "I don't know why you stress me out more than the others."

Great. So that's how this is going to go.

I stand and silently move to go back into the room, but his hand clasps around my wrist.

"Please, just let me find the words," he asks, and I can hear the plea in his voice.

I look back and up at him and his eyes are in the puppy dog form I've seen only a select few times. Ones that have never been directed at me but have held no truer emotion than requisition.

"Ok..." I drag out, moving back to the lawn chair and sitting quietly as he drops my wrist almost hesitantly and leans against the railing, fidgeting with his hands. I've never seen him like this, so I give him the space.

He takes a deep breath through his nose and closes his eyes before just unloading everything.

"I don't like seeing you get hurt," he starts. "I mean, I don't like seeing any of my friends get hurt. It's no decent person's interest to watch friends and family get harmed, but it's like a nagging in my head. No," he shakes his head, trying to find the right words. "It's like having pins and needles surrounding your lungs, and every time you try and take a breath to come down from the terror- the pain of seeing them hurt- the needles poke and stab. Making it nearly impossible to take a deep breath and ground yourself. And that's only a part of the pain that comes with it."

I stare up at him. My eyes are likely wide as I take in what he's saying. He glances at me once before looking back at his hands.

"I know I'm an asshole to you. I know that," he says, cringing as if the truth behind it hurts him. "I don't know why. At least, I say that to make myself not think about it longer than I can probably handle, but I've talked to my therapist about it, and she says it's a protective technique my brain finds more plausible than just dealing with the confusing feelings I have towards you."

My eyes shift back and forth as if trying to understand the words.

"Feelings towards me?" I repeat. "Like annoyance?"

"No," he sighs, and then he chuckles a soft laugh under his breath. "Well, yes. Sometimes you can be annoying, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't find it endearing most of the time."

My eyebrows raise at that. Where the hell is all this coming from?

I shake my head in disbelief and lean back in my chair. "Barnes, you're giving me a bit of whiplash, and I'm not sure-"

"I like you."

My mouth is still open from where my sentence was going, and I blink once. Then twice. Then, a third time, as I tried to understand if I just heard him right. Because if he meant it as a friend, I'm shocked. But if he meant it otherwise... I'm hallucinating.

His eyes find mine, and this time, he doesn't look away. He keeps eye contact, and I can feel him trying to read me.

"I-Is there more to that sentence?" I ask, my brain trying to make sense of the situation and short-circuiting ultimately.

"Yes, but from the looks of it, you're still trying to translate those three words."

"Good observation," I nod, pursing my lips and sinking into my chair.

"I've been known to make them," he smiles a tight-lipped smile. I'm actually grateful for his quip at this moment.

"Bucky, you have to understand that those words don't make sense with how you treat me-"

"I know, and I'm sorry," he pushes off the railing and steps forward just in front of my chair. "God, I'm so sorry. I don't even know why it's taken me this long to apologize for the way I've acted this long, but for some reason... When we were fighting today, I saw a man get the jump on you. I was seconds from leaving my own fight and coming straight to you to handle it for you, but you quickly turned the situation around. It wasn't the first time I'd seen you in that scenario, yet something about it..." He pauses, looking up at the sky, throwing a hand through his hair. "It freaked me out. It freaked me out far more than it has in the past."

He looks at me in a sincere way and moves to sit in the busted up, rusted, and metal patio chair that looks like it very well could have been here when he came 8 years ago. It creaks as he turns it in and angles his body toward mine. His elbows rest on his knees, and he looks down at his hands again. And as he talks, I realize he's breaking it down not just for me but for himself—these emotions and sudden changes.

"Maybe it's because I knew if I didn't get to you, you were on your own. We didn't have a backup. I couldn't call Steve or Nat, or Wanda to come in and help where I couldn't. And then the actualization that if I couldn't get to you, if no one was there to back you up, there was a chance I'd end up regretting everything all because I can't seem to come to terms with my feelings." His eyes find mine again. "And then that cut," his eyes drag from mine down my torso to where my knife wound lays under my tank top. "It was like a final piece to knock some sense into my head."

He looks at me, and I can't explain it, but I want to hold him when he looks at me like that.

"Seeing you hurt reminded me... You're human. You aren't invincible even if you can take on three men triple your size attacking you at once. It's a skill I'm glad and impressed that you have, but it doesn't guarantee someone won't get the jump on you again, and I'm not sure I can handle that."

I stay in silence for a moment, taking in the information and processing it all. I must have been quiet for a while because a soft "Y/N?" makes me look up from where I've been staring blankly at the balcony.

"You ok?" he asks gently, carefully.

I nod and run a hand up and down my arm from a slight breeze blowing with the sun setting in the distance.

"Trying to..." I started, but I didn't know what words were meant to follow. "I'm a little shocked," I say, eventually looking at him.

"I can't say I blame you. It's a 180 from our normal conversations," he takes a deep breath and smiles softly at him. "Do you need a minute?"

I shake my head. "No..." Then I scrunch my nose. "Well, maybe."

"That's ok," he nods, sitting back in his chair, and it weakly groans in protest. He takes in the fact my legs are up to my chest now, and I've wrapped my arms around myself. "We should go inside. It'll get cold soon." He stands and motions for me to head in first, then offers a hand to help me stand up.

I look at it before taking it, standing, and walking in with my arms still around my middle. As soon as we're in, I turn and catch us both off guard by being chest-to-chest with him after he shuts the balcony door. I don't move, though, and neither does he.

"Since honesty seems to be the theme of the night," I look up at him. "I've always admired you..." His face softens at that. "But I'd be lying to both of us if I said how you treated me didn't affect that original feeling." He nods in understanding and slightly cringes to himself.

"I wouldn't hold it against you."

"Why did you- Why did you not like me at first?"

He shrugs a touch, but there's no uncertainty behind it. "I saw you as young and naive. I saw you as someone who seemed to make almost anyone love you, and all you had to do was exist around them. I think a broken part of me was envious and confused by that trait, and I used it as a reason to be hateful to you instead of taking advantage of the kindness you freely give and allowing myself the gift of that. I didn't think I deserved that." He sighs, his hands going into the pockets of his sweats. "I convinced myself that your kindness was nativity when I've learned quite quickly that you're anything but naive."

I sigh, nodding my head as I turn and move to sit on the edge of the bed. "You wouldn't be the first person to misinterpret my kindness. It's why I tend to fall into becoming a stubborn ass when people don't appreciate that kindness. Hence why I haven't been the perfect person in this relationship myself," I motion between us. "I should have recognized where you could have been coming from and continued to kill you with pleasantries, but you didn't seem to respond well to it."

"It wasn't your job to recognize that or fix it. It was mine to stop being a stubborn ass myself and talk to you rather than make assumptions," he shifts on his feet. "I thought I was self-preserving when I was actually self-sabotaging. Something I'm still working on recognizing."

"It's a process," I sigh, knowing the steps well enough myself. I consider the conversation and take a deep breath, relaxing in my spot as I come to my conclusion. "Bucky?" He looks at me, hopeful and attentive. "I forgive you."

I watch as his body stiffens at the declaration before slowly relaxing.

"I don't expect you to just be fine with everything I've done the last-"

"Many years?" I chuckle, lighting the mood. "Yeah, but why would I want to waste any more time when I get it? I get your reasoning, and I can't say I blame you."

"But you should blame me," he moves to sit on the comforter next to me, our knees brushing.

I shrug, turning to face him better. "But I don't." He starts to talk, and I cover his mouth with my hand. His icy blue eyes looked down at the motion before back at me. "I swear to God, Barnes. You take two steps forward, and it's like you feel guilty for making progress and regress." He flinches slightly at my words, and I feel I struck a nerve. "Sorry, I shouldn't-" I take my hand back.

"No, you're right. It's something I'm still working on. I mean, small things are easy to accept and move on, but this," he gestures to me. "A part of me doesn't believe I deserve your forgiveness after the caseload of shit I've given you, but-"

"But it's my forgiveness to give, so I'll decide if I want to give it..." I look at him as if waiting for him to connect the dots. He smiles and nods as he looks down at his hands. "You catching on?"

"I'm catching on," he looks up at him again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

We look at each other for a little while, and the atmosphere is new. It's not tense. It's not awkward. It's not uncomfortable. It's like we've come to a point we've been actively avoiding for years, and it turned out to be a really nice point.

"So..." he starts, and I decide to break the seriousness of it all.

"Why is there only one bed, Bucky?" I ask with a look meant to lighten up the mood, turning and patting the comforter we're sitting on.

He looks at it with me and smiles with a laugh. "It wasn't intentional, if that's what you're asking."

"Feels a touch intentional. Not letting me leave the room or demanding I stay close kinda plays into the fact you'd be forced into sharing a bed with me. Another way to secure my proximity," I tease.

"Or..." he drags out, and his hand comes up, pushing a wayward hair behind my ear and casually taking his hand back. "The receptionist told me they didn't have any two-bedroom rooms available right now because there is a festival in town this weekend, and they're booked up."

"Seems legit, but not sure if I believe you," I grin a touch bashful and look around at the room as if I'm surveying it and not slightly melting at his touch.

"Believe me or not," he shrugs, standing and stretching. "Either way, we're sharing a bed tonight, sweetheart." He winks. He fucking winks at me and moves to the other side of the bed, getting his side ready for sleep.

This new side of him is not one I was ready for, but seeing it makes me think about what I haven't gotten to experience sooner. So I say that.

"I knew you were a lady's man back in the day, but I never thought I'd see the flirt you were rumored to be," I turn in my spot on the bed and look at him from the end of the bed.

"I don't flirt with everyone," he says, throwing the blanket back and adjusting the pillows.

"Well, yeah, obviously, but-"

"Just people I'm attracted to," he says, cutting me off with a telling grin. "And to women, I'd like to have flirt back."

My mouth drops, and I let out a laugh. A genuine laugh. "Was that a move? Did you just make a move on me?" I smile like a teenager at him, partially in disbelief and partially in interest.

"Did it work?" he chuckles, sitting on the edge and scooting into the bed but not fully getting in it.

I shake my head with a smile and laugh again. "Honestly, I have to say yes."

His smile widens at my confession, and he leans back on the headboard, two pillows propped behind him.

"So you're saying I have a chance if I keep it up?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, cowboy. It's not going to take just a flashy wink and a flirty comment to get my attention fully. I like to be sought after."

"Good to know."

"Is it?" I ask incredulously with a smirk as I move to my side of the bed and throw the covers back enough to sneak under them.

"Can't give away all my plans," he shakes his head, and I turn off my bedside lamp.

"Wouldn't want you to. I like being surprised," I lay down and nuzzled into my pillow before turning on my side and looking up at him. "Must say, your surprise tonight was a pretty good start."

"You think?"

"I think," I nod and debate on my next idea, but I decide what the hell? Who's it hurting? "Feel free to say no, but if we are sharing the same bed, I tend to be a cuddler unconsciously, so if we-"

"Yes," he says simply a large grin he doesn't seem to care to hide marks his handsome features. "Yes, please." He nods, moving under the blanket.

"That answer was a little too fast to believe that this hotel didn't have other beds."

"I don't know what you mean," he shimmies under the blanket, and I feel his leg brush mine.

"Listen, normally I wouldn't, but I learn I sleep best when I'm with another person, so-"

"You don't have to give me a reason, doll. I'm happy to lend the support." His arms are quickly wrapped around my middle and I'm turned to where my back is pressed against his front and I'm not going to lie... It's a perfect fit. "Night, Y/N."

"Night, Bucky." I smile putting my hands on his around my middle and laying back into him.

This was a good start to something possibly more...

Want to keep reading? (Part 2 of 2)

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[cassiemaebarnes]

The Morning After

Bucky x reader, enemies to lovers

Summary: The morning after a night out with the Avengers, you wake up with Bucky in your bed. But you don't remember a thing.

Word Count: 3478

When you woke up, your head was pounding and your stomach was turning. You know you and the other Avengers had gone out last night, but you didn’t remember anything.

You groaned and brought your hands to your face, only to realize there was someone else in the bed. You stiffened, not knowing who it was or what happened. You never thought you’d be the type of girl to get drunk and have a one-night stand, but here you were. You knew you were in your room, so you knew you would get drilled with questions by the other Avengers the second he left.

You tried to shift out of his arms, but they instinctively tightened around you. That’s when you felt it.

One of his arms was way harder than the other. That could only mean one thing.

You had hooked up with Bucky.

You froze, not knowing how the hell this happened. You and Bucky hated each other. You were always at each other’s throats and never agreed on anything. And now he was in your bed after a night out? What was happening?

You laid there for a couple minutes, trying to figure out what to do, when finally, Bucky woke up. He stretched a little bit, but kept his arms around you. Does he realize who he’s laying with? Does he remember anything?

You finally worked up the courage to turn around and face him, and when you did, he was sleepily smiling down at you. His smile quickly faded when he saw your face.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

Okay, so clearly he knows what happened and doesn’t realize you don’t.

You just laid there, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that you were both naked under the blanket, and didn’t say a word.

“Are you gonna be sick?” he asked, sitting up slightly and putting a hand on your shoulder.

You just shook your head, still trying to find the words to say. How do you tell the guy you just hooked up with that you don’t remember anything?

You glanced at his hand on your shoulder, then back at him, worry covering his face.

“I, uh – well I,” you stumbled over your words, then sighed, realizing you just had to come right out with it. “I don’t remember anything about last night.”

His face went from worry, to confusion, to fear in just a matter of seconds. “You don’t remember anything?”

“No,” you replied, more embarrassed than ever.

“Like…nothing at all?”

“Uhh, no.”

His eyes went wide and he slowly nodded his head. “Uhh, okay. Well – that’s okay.” He looked freaked out and slowly scooted back to the edge of the bed. You didn’t know what to say but he could tell you were just as freaked out as him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I mean – I knew you were really drunk, but I – I mean I didn’t think,” he stumbled over his words, not knowing exactly what to say.

“No, I’m sorry. This is my fault,” you said.

“No, no, that’s okay. I just – don’t want you to think that I like…” He trailed off, and you suddenly realized why he was so scared.

He thought that you thought he took advantage of you. Or maybe worse, drugged you. Although you seemed to be enemies, you knew he would never do something like that. You knew deep down he cared about you too much to let anything happen to you, and would never do anything that would possibly hurt you.

Your eyes went wide with the realization as you spoke. “Oh, no, I know you didn’t do anything. I guess I just didn’t realize how drunk I really was.”

He relaxed a little bit, and you tried to sit up to face him better, but your head disagreed. It immediately started pounding and you winced, grabbing your head as you slowly laid back down.

This was going to be one hell of a hangover. For more reasons than one.

Bucky reached out to put his hand on your shoulder when you winced, but pulled back, obviously not sure what to do. “Do you want me to get you medicine?”

“Yes, please,” you groaned.

Bucky slipped out of the bed and pulled his boxers on as he walked over to the door. He cracked open the door and looked out, making sure the coast was clear, though you didn’t know whether it was for his sake or yours.

You wanted to put some clothes on, for obvious reasons, but every time you so much as lifted your head off the pillow, you felt like your head was getting stabbed. You finally gave up, figuring he wouldn’t care if you didn’t get dressed since he obviously already saw you naked.

You closed your eyes again, squeezing them shut as hard as you could to try to distract yourself from the pain. A couple minutes later, your door opened and shut as Bucky came back in.

He had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, holding your favorite water bottle, a bottle of ibuprofen, a sleeve of saltines, and a Gatorade.

You closed your eyes again, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes.

He set everything on the nightstand, then grabbed your hands. “You gotta sit up a little bit, doll.”

Doll?

“I can’t,” you whispered.

“Yes you can, I’ll help you.” He slid his metal arm under the blanket and around your waist and the other behind your head. “I’m just gonna scoot you up a little bit, okay? Tell me if I need to stop.”

He slowly scooted you up so the top of your back was resting against the headboard. The blanket had slid down in the process, exposing your chest, but you didn’t even care at this point. Your hands remained on your face.

Bucky, however, lifted the blanket up for you, then walked over to your closet and opened the door. “Do you want a t-shirt or sweatshirt?”

“Sweatshirt,” you mumbled.

Bucky walked back over, sitting on the bed facing you. He carefully put the sweatshirt over your head and helped you put your arms in the sleeves. He then gently lifted your back off the headboard to pull the sweatshirt the rest of the way down.

He reached over and pulled the ibuprofen off the nightstand, twisting the cap off and pouring some out. You winced at the sound of the pills rattling because it felt ten times louder for you. Bucky noticed, and very slowly tilted the bottle back upright, careful not to make any noise.

Bucky took your hand and set three pills in it. You popped them in your mouth while he held your water bottle up to your mouth so you could drink from the straw.

“How does your stomach feel?”

“Like I could throw up,” you groaned.

Bucky got up and brought your trash can over, just in case you did throw up. “Your trash can’s right here, let me know if you need it.”

Bucky sat back down on the bed to face you, then took your face in his hands. He started to rub his thumbs over your temples, putting enough pressure on them to feel good, but not enough to hurt.

You just sighed, feeling a little relief with the pressure. You didn’t know how long you sat there with him doing that, but after a while, the sharp pain began to subside, leaving a dull ache in its place.

You slowly opened your eyes, looking up at Bucky. He gently smiled back at you, not stopping his hands. “Feeling any better?” he asked.

“A little,” you murmured.

“Do you want to try to eat a few crackers? It might help your stomach.”

“Okay.”

He pulled his hands from your face, leaving your head aching for his touch again. He opened the crackers as quietly as possible, handing you a few.

You took a couple small bites, your stomach seeming to respond well. Bucky grabbed the Gatorade and twisted it open. “Here, drink some of this. It will help.”

You grabbed the bottle, taking a couple of sips before handing it back to him.

After a few more crackers and about half of the Gatorade bottle, you were starting to feel somewhat okay.

“I have to pee,” you said.

“Okay, do you want me to help you up?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky put his arm around your shoulders, gently helping you sit up fully. You stopped for a second to allow the pain to pass, then started to slide your legs to the edge of the bed. Bucky pulled the blanket back, sliding his arm under your legs to scoot you to the edge of the bed. You swung your legs over onto the floor, feet landing on the pile of last night’s discarded outfits.

You sat there for a moment as Bucky let you go, taking a step back. “Umm, where’s your underwear drawer?” he asked.

“Top drawer.”

He walked over and pulled the drawer open, choosing a pair then kneeling in front of you. He guided your feet through the holes, then pulled them up to your thighs. “Are you okay to stand up?”

“Yeah.”

He held onto your arms as he slowly helped you stand. While you regained your strength, Bucky slid your underwear the rest of the way up. “What pants do you want?”

“Shorts, third drawer.”

He walked back over to your dresser and pulled open the drawer. He grabbed a pair and started to turn, before he put them back and grabbed a different pair. Your favorite pair. Apparently he knows me better than I thought.

You sat back down on the edge of the bed as he kneeled in front of you once again, putting your shorts on for you, then helping you stand again. “Do you need help walking?”

“Umm, maybe,” you said, slowly taking a few steps.

Bucky slid his arm around your waist and set his other hand on your shoulder as you walked. Once you got to the door and opened it, you knew you had enough strength to get to the bathroom on your own. “I got it from here.”

“You sure?” he said, sounding concerned.

“Yeah.”

You slowly but surely made your way down the hallway and finally got to the bathroom. After you washed your hands, you looked at yourself in the mirror, and wow did you look awful.

Your hair was knotted and pointing in every direction, makeup was smeared all over your face, and you had dark bags under your bloodshot eyes. Yikes.

You grabbed your brush and pulled it through your hair, then pulled it back into a ponytail to wash your face. Finally, you brushed your teeth, feeling a little better as you walked back to your room.

When you walked in, Bucky had picked up the pile of clothes, putting yours in your laundry basket and his were folded up, laying on your desk. Bucky was awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

He looked up when he heard the door. “Hey. You okay?”

You nodded, though the pounding in your head was still very much there. “Yeah. I mean, I still feel like I got hit by a truck, but I’m better.”

He gave you a half-smile. “That’s good. I, uh... I picked up your stuff. Hope that’s okay.”

You glanced at the laundry basket, then the folded clothes on the desk. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Silence.

You slowly walked over to the bed and sat down, trying not to look as unsure as you felt. Bucky shifted his weight from one foot to the other like he was debating something.

“So…” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just to, you know – clarify – you really don’t remember anything?”

You winced a little. “Bits and pieces. Like, I think there was karaoke?”

“There was,” he said, nodding quickly. “You did a very enthusiastic version of ‘Toxic.’”

Your face dropped into your hands. “Oh my God.”

“It wasn’t bad,” he offered, like he was trying to help. “You hit most of the notes.”

“Most of them?” you groaned into your palms.

He smiled, more genuinely this time, and sat down next to you - keeping just enough distance that you knew he wasn’t trying to push anything. “Look, I know things between us are usually...tense. And I don’t know what last night meant to you - or, well, what it would’ve meant if you remembered it.”

You looked at him. “Do you know what it meant?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “I mean…yeah? I didn’t just sleep with you to win an argument.”

You snorted despite yourself. “That does sound like something we’d do, though.”

“Right?” he chuckled. “Honestly, I thought maybe we’d wake up and start yelling at each other immediately.”

You gave a small smile. “Tempting.”

He paused. “I get it if this was a one-time thing. It was weird circumstances, and I know you probably feel like crap, and maybe you want to chalk it all up to drunk stupidity, but...I don’t think I do.”

You turned your head to look at him, heart pounding in your chest like you were about to jump off a ledge. “Okay, but – hypothetically - if I also didn’t want to chalk it up to that...what do we do? Start being nice to each other? That sounds terrifying.”

He nodded, straight-faced. “Yeah, absolutely awful.”

“But maybe...we could try being slightly less mean?” you offered, half-joking.

He smirked. “Like, only insult each other half the time?”

“Exactly,” you said. “A healthy compromise.”

There was a beat of silence before he added, “So...should I, like, go? Or do you want company while you recover from near-death?”

You looked down at the bed, then back at him. “You already saw me at my worst. Might as well stick around.”

He smiled again, then leaned back against the headboard, settling in next to you.

You started to think about what he thought about the whole thing. Then suddenly, you just blurted out, “do you regret it?”

He looked at you for a second before giving you a slight smile. “No.”

You looked at him, heart skipping. “You don’t?”

He shook his head, turning to meet your eyes. “I know we fight a lot. And maybe we’re not exactly the poster couple for healthy communication. But…I like you. I think I’ve liked you for a while. And last night just kinda…dragged it into the light, I guess.”

You stared at him, stunned. “You…like me?”

He gave you a dry look. “I literally put your underwear and pants on for you this morning. That’s love, doll.”

You laughed, warmth blooming in your chest despite everything.

“I like you too,” you said, softer this time. “Even when you’re being a pain in the ass.”

He grinned, leaning back on his hands. “Especially then.”

You rolled your eyes, then scooted closer, tucking yourself against his side. He immediately shifted to wrap an arm around you, pulling you in like it was second nature.

And just like that, the most chaotic morning of your life turned into something almost… kind of nice. Awkward, but nice.

You were just starting to relax again when the door burst open without warning.

“Y/n! Are you alive?” Sam yelled as he walked in. “You’re late for team brunch and-”

He froze mid-sentence.

You froze.

Bucky froze.

There was a beat of silence where you could literally hear the sound of your soul leaving your body.

Sam’s eyes scanned the room: Bucky with his arm around you in bed, your sweatshirt about three sizes too big, Bucky’s folded clothes on the desk, the saltines and Gatorade on the nightstand, and the very obvious fact that you both looked like you’d been through a war.

“Ohhh hell no,” Sam said, backing up a step with a slow shake of his head. “Nope. Nope. Nope.”

You pulled the blanket up to your chin like it might make you disappear, as Bucky slipped his arm out from around you. “Sam, wait - don’t-”

“Don’t what? Don’t ask why the two people who usually threaten each other with kitchen knives are now cuddled up like it’s Sunday morning cartoons?”

“We’re not cuddling!” Bucky blurted out at the exact same time you said, “It’s not what it looks like!”

Sam raised a very skeptical eyebrow. “It looks like Bucky finally wore you down with his brooding charm and now you’ve achieved the enemies-to-lovers plot arc we all saw coming.”

You stared at him. “We all saw coming?”

“Oh please,” he scoffed. “We’ve been taking bets. Steve’s gonna lose his mind when he finds out he missed this.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the pillow. “I want to die.”

Bucky rubbed a hand down his face. “Can you please leave?”

“I could,” Sam said, taking a dramatic step back toward the door. “But then I’d miss the next round of ‘why did this happen and what now?’ which is honestly better than half the shows I watch.”

You threw a pillow at him.

He caught it effortlessly, grinning. “Okay, okay - I’m going. But you better believe this is going in the group chat.”

“Sam!” you both shouted.

He was already halfway down the hall. “You’re welcome!” he called, followed by the sound of him laughing all the way to the kitchen.

You stared at the ceiling, mortified. “Well. That happened.”

Bucky sighed beside you, flopping back next to you with a grunt. “Wanna fake our deaths and start new lives in Canada?”

“Honestly? Tempting.”

And as you both lay there in shared secondhand embarrassment, Bucky reached over, laced his fingers with yours, and whispered, “We’re never gonna hear the end of this, are we?”

“Not a chance.”

But weirdly, you didn’t mind.

After another ten minutes of mutually wallowing in embarrassment, you and Bucky decided you couldn’t hide out in your room forever. Well - you decided. Bucky tried to argue in favor of faking your deaths again.

But eventually, you both shuffled out, slowly making your way to the kitchen where the others were already gathered around the long dining table for the infamous Sunday team brunch.

The second you stepped into the room, the conversation immediately died. Forks paused halfway to mouths. Heads turned. All eyes locked on the two of you.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Bucky leaned in and whispered, “We can still turn around.”

“Nope. Too late. We’re in too deep,” you muttered back.

Then Sam, of course, stood up and clapped like he was introducing royalty. “And there they are, folks! The stars of last night’s drunk rom-com with a bonus mystery blackout plotline!”

You groaned out loud and buried your face in your hands. Bucky just sighed like he’d aged ten years in five seconds.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee with a smirk. “So, is this a walk of shame or a victory lap?”

“Let them sit down first,” Steve said mildly, though the amused twitch in his jaw gave him away.

You shuffled to the only two open seats - next to each other, of course - and sat down as quietly as possible, like if you didn’t make eye contact, the moment would pass.

“Y/n,” Tony said, chin propped on his hand, “just for the record, karaoke was your idea. But you can’t blame Bucky for going along with it. You practically tackled him during that duet.”

You looked up, absolutely horrified. “We duetted?”

“‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough,’” Bruce said. “Honestly? Pretty good harmony.”

You turned to Bucky, eyes wide. “You sang?”

Bucky shrugged, clearly resigned. “You pulled me up. I panicked. I blacked out emotionally.”

Clint leaned in across the table. “Did you black out before or after she sat in your lap for half the song?”

Bucky let his head fall into his hands.

You smacked your forehead against the table.

“Okay, we get it,” you groaned. “It was a mess. We’re embarrassed. Let’s just eat in shame and move on, please.”

There was a pause - merciful silence - then Wanda smiled gently and pushed a plate of pancakes your way.

“At least eat something before you die of secondhand embarrassment.”

You both quietly loaded your plates. For a blessed few minutes, everyone seemed to let it go.

But then Sam leaned over to Bucky with a grin and whispered just loud enough for the table to hear:

“So…when’s the wedding?”

Bucky choked on his orange juice.

You launched a grape at his face.

Chaos resumed.

But somehow, even with the teasing, the stares, and your face stuck in a permanent blush…you looked over at Bucky, and he was smiling at you.

And, weirdly, you found yourself smiling back.

Maybe this wasn’t just a disaster after all.