#captainamericafic

[princessmisery666]

Drinking Alone, Together.

Summary: Steve wasn’t looking for anything other than the bottom of a bottle, but fate seems to bring broken souls together.

Warnings: smut, angst, alcohol as a coping mechanism, drinking to forget.

W/C: 1.9k

Rating: E (explicit - 18+)

Characters: Steve Rogers, fem!reader (she/her)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader (she/her - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @anyfandomangstbingo Square Filled: drinking the pain away.

Notes: Set in the missing 5 years of Endgame. Inspired by Carrie Underwood - Drinking Alone. I used some of the lyrics too.

Betas: @writercole // @deanwinchesterswitch // @cockslut-padalecki

Graphics: dividers by @firefly-graphics

Master Lists: Main // Steve Rogers // AF Angst

Steve wasn’t looking for anything other than the bottom of a bottle, or ten. The serum coursing through him meant he couldn’t get drunk, at least not in the traditional sense. But Thor had left three barrels of Asgardian liquor at the compound, and he had filled two hip flasks to mix with the whiskey he ordered at the bar.

His baseball cap and the circular booth at the back of the room offered some privacy. The small wall light, covered by a dark red shade and a visible amount of dust, gave it a smoky, mysterious atmosphere, but he wasn’t there for that either.

Since the snap, he craved noise—any noise. Silence was the enemy; silence nurtured thoughts, and thoughts spawned tendrils of all the mistakes he felt he’d made. Noise and the God of Thunder’s numbing liquid were the remedies.

The booth directly opposite him was occupied by a brunette woman sitting alone. The waitress caught his eye when she came over to ask the patron for her order, and though it wasn’t intentional, he heard the whole exchange.

“Open a tab,” she said, handing the waitress her card. “And bring me a bottle of Jack or Jim or one of their friends, please.”

“You got it, sweetheart.”

The waitress didn’t take long, returning with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a single glass. The brunette smiled her thanks, pouring a double measure into her glass before the waitress had even walked away. She took a sip, eyes falling closed as she swallowed, resting her head on the back of the booth.

Steve didn’t mean to intrude or stare, but she was directly in his line of sight, and he saw when a single tear slipped from her eye. She finished her drink with her eyes closed and tears steadily streaking her cheeks. There was something morbidly enchanting about the silently crying woman. Perhaps it was the reminder that he wasn’t the only one down on his luck, that his heartbreak wasn’t, after all, a lonely endeavor.

She opened her eyes long enough to pour another drink, and she must have felt his enraptured scrutiny because she froze and met his eyes.

He didn’t look away, and she raised her glass with a twitch of her lips that could hardly be classified as a smile, wiping her tear-stained cheeks. He offered her a supportive smile, “Drowning the pain is better with somebody else who has problems.”

She shrugged, “this seat ain’t taken,” motioning to the spot beside her.

He contemplated it while she refilled her empty glass. The solution to their problems wouldn’t be found at the bottom of a bottle. Steve knew that. She probably knew that too. But he didn’t need his problems solved; he needed to forget. Maybe this was fate, bumping into someone seeking refuge in burning liquor, and maybe they should be drinking alone, together.

“Let me make one thing clear. You can buy me a beer,” he pointed a warning finger at her, “but you ain't taking me home.”

She held her hands up, surrendering, “No pick-up lines, promise.”

He softly smiled when he stood up and collected his glass. “Good, ‘cause I came here to shed a few tears of my own,” he said, sliding in next to her.

“Misery loves company,” she clinked her glass against his, and they knocked back their shots.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked after their glasses were no longer empty again.

She shook her head, “not in the slightest. You?”

“No,” Steve said with a heavy sigh. He was all talked out, tired of strategizing, and downright exhausted with failing at every turn to undo what Thanos did.

“All I need is a stranger with a whiskey chaser and a corner booth kiss to make me forget.”

She slid closer and pressed her lips to his. He cupped her cheek, holding her in place and running his tongue along her bottom lip. The mixture of Jack Daniel’s and salty tears on his tongue stirred a macabre desire in Steve. The taste of her sadness distracted him from his own troubles, and he regretted telling her she couldn’t take him home, for he was sure he could help her forget her sorrows, at least until morning.

After a moment, breathlessly, she pulled back, “You said I’m not allowed to take you home, but you can take me home.”

Her kiss had aroused him, and her words made him groan. But he still had some of his senses. He took off his cap and her eyes widened for a moment when recognition dawned. He gave her a second to reconsider or make some remark but she kissed him again.

“What’s your name?” he whispered.

“I’ll tell you if you promise to forget tomorrow.”

Steve chuckled, “deal.”

“It’s,” she paused, then with a sly smile said, “does it really matter?”

The cab had barely pulled away from the curb before Steve’s hands returned to fondle Y/N’s breasts under her blouse and their mouths reconnected.

The poor driver had received quite the show. Though no clothes had been removed, their behavior had become more than inappropriate for their location. She had ended up straddling Steve’s lap. He had buried his head in her neck and alternated between kissing and sucking at her skin to losing himself in her breasts, then returning to her mouth. She’d whined and moaned as she ground down on his erection, scratched her nails down his chest, bit and sucked his ear lobe.

She broke their kiss and turned her back to him to walk up the path. Steve wrapped an arm around her waist, held her against him, and kissed her neck as they stumbled together. Groaning dreamily, she stopped when they reached the front door and laid her head back on his shoulder, and his hand snaked under her shirt to knead her lace-clad breasts again.

She rubbed her ass against his denim-covered dick, and he growled into her neck.

“Damn it,” she cursed, “Steve, you gotta stop,” and she wriggled out of his grasp, taking a step to the left. She chuckled at the childish pout he flashed her, arms held mid-air as if he still held the ghost of her. “Keys.”

Steve shoved his hand in his back pocket and fished out his set of keys. Quickly finding the correct one, he practically leapt forward to push it into the lock. Y/N swiftly stepped up behind him, snaking her arms around his waist to begin unbuckling his belt.

With the door now open, Steve turned in her arms and framed her face with his hands along her jaw. Drawing her mouth toward him as he dipped to capture her lips and pulled her with him through the door.

He guided them far enough past the threshold of the door for Y/N to be able to shove it closed with her foot. The slam of the door was quickly followed by the thud of her bag and the jangle of his keys hitting the hardwood floor. Her hands went back to unfastening the button of his jeans, and Steve pushed her leather jacket off her shoulders.

Once her jacket pooled at her feet, Y/N broke the breathless kiss to yank her blouse over her head, and Steve followed suit, shedding his jacket and shirt.

She paused to drink him in. Had his arms always been that big? She wanted him to squeeze her until she lost her breath and then hold her tighter still. His smooth skin looked as soft as silk under the light, and she couldn’t resist reaching out to run her fingertips from the base of his throat over the curve of his pecs, the defined muscles of his abs that were more prominent now he was panting for breath. His unfastened jeans hung on his hips and sagged enough that her fingers could skim the lines over his hips that curved into his pelvis before disappearing beneath his black boxers. His dick strained at his open fly, and she swallowed a needy whimper as she dragged her eyes back to his face.

Steve’s eyes were closed, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, and he shivered as she scraped her nails along the elasticated waistband of his boxers. She stepped into him, and feeling her proximity, he opened his eyes, awarding her a soft, lust-filled smile as he tilted his head to the left to kiss her.

Y/N pressed her lips firmly to his, and she felt the goosebumps pepper her flesh under Steve’s hand on the small of her back, his fingers lazily drawing patterns along her spine. She needed more, wanted to see if he still tasted like whiskey or if she’d washed the burn from his mouth with her earlier kisses.

Steve pulled away to stare into her eyes, “can we slow down?” he requested.

Her mind reeled for a second. It was a small rejection but a rejection all the same. But she had to laugh off the self-conscious thought. “How slow are you thinking?” she asked, lips ghosting over his neck.

She scraped her teeth over his pulse point and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and boxers. She pressed her lips to his pecs, then sucked and swirled her tongue around the hardening nub of his nipple.

His cock slapped against his stomach as she freed it from its restraints, and it took all her self-control to not instantly drop to her knees. She was eager to taste him, feel his cock heavy on her tongue, pushing deeper and deeper at the back of her throat.

But he wanted to go slow, and she’d give him what he wanted, anything he wanted.

Y/N wrapped a delicate hand around his dick, tight enough that he could feel her, but soft enough that he was the one to thrust his hips to gain more friction.

“Too slow?” she whispered, peppering his abs with kisses. She gazed hungrily up at him as she squatted in front of him; with hooded eyes, she licked her lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “you keep lookin’ at me like that doll, and this is gonna be over in minutes.”

She smirked, tightening her grip and pumping him lazily. “I wanna taste you,” she confessed, licking a long strip south from his navel, along his length, and around his tip.

His head fell back to whisper a curse to the ceiling, and she dropped completely to her knees. Pumping him with one hand, the other gripped his thigh, and she dug her nails into his skin as she swallowed him.

“Fuck!” he growled, his chin dropping to his chest to watch her.

She wanted to keep her focus on his face, watch it contort with desire and lust, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from slipping shut and humming as he touched the back of her throat. He tasted so good, salty with a sweet tang. Her nose bumped his public bone as she pushed and pulled back and forth—his skin smelt of coconut and an earthy tint.

The only measure of time was how breathless she became, but she didn’t stop. She wanted the flavor of him every time she swallowed for hours after she was done.

His hips rocked with her rhythm, and she felt him tense. His thrusts stuttered, but before he gave her what she wanted, he pulled himself free. “I want you, so fuckin’ bad, baby girl,” he whined, a gentle thumb wiping a puddle of saliva from her chin.

“We’ve got all night,” she assured him. Stroking his wet shaft, she lapped up the pre-cum that dribbled from his tip. “Give me all of it,” she all but demanded and returned him to sit thick and heavy on her tongue.

The short break had done nothing to squash his arousal, and after finding their pace again, Steve was shuddering and spilling syrupy hot cum into her mouth.

Master Lists: Main // Steve Rogers // AF Angst

[helloohmarveluniverse]

You and Steve have been a little stand offish of each other since the funeral.

You don't know if he's doing that because he's still in grief or if he's changed his mind about you.

A week later, still the same thing. Him averting his eyes from you and making his way away from you.

You have had enough....you corner him. You call him into your office.

"I understand that this has been rough for you, but what the hell is going on?!"

Slamming your hands down on your desk. He jumps a little...

"I am sick and tired of trying to figure you out and what is going on through your head. But if you tell me to wait a little while longer....darling....idk if I can,"

Steve's head is in his hands. You hear him take a deep breath. Did you say too much? Oh no, you went over board...

You walk past him to grab a drink from your stash and his hand grabs your wrist.

You turn towards him, and he's already up on his feet. Now he's backing you into a corner.

Face to face, you can feel his breath on your skin....the smell of sandalwood and leather is eminating from him.

He's pressing himself into you...

"I didn't want to start anything, and now, I don't want to lose you for the way I have been acting. I'm sorry,"

Feeling his arms wrap around your waist, his head rests on the side of your neck. Instinctively wrapping your arms around him. You both stand there like that until he breathes in your ear...

"Let me love you...please,"

He presses himself into you more, tracing his lips up your neck, across your cheek, and merely moments away from your lips...

"The door is locked? Right?" He says smiling at you...

[kittenwritesstuff]

Russian roulette

Fandom: MARVEL Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Avenger)reader Genres: angst, injury, fluff Words: 1.555 Summary: Based on an imagine: “Imagine taking a bullet for Bucky in order to save him” - requested by Anonymous

Until this moment, this split of a second you never realized how meaningless your life has been. Sure, you have joined the Avengers, you have saved the world along them more than once, but you never meant something in someone else’s life. Just an ordinary young woman, with extra abilities and a training that most of people would not survive.

But, not even once, have you heard that you mean something.

And up until now, you didn’t think you would want it. Up until now, being ordinary woman working with the Avengers was enough. It was something.

But it wasn’t it.

______

When Bucky arrived, it all changed. Everyone else tiptoed around him, was gentle and cautious, even Natasha. But not you. You didn’t bother yourself with too much sickening, exasperated kindness and carefulness. You treated him like any other member of the team, not afraid to criticize or tell straight away when you didn’t like something.

It seemed to be exactly what he needed. Not taking it easy on him, as if he would broke at any given moment, but treat him as an equal, regular guy. With a metal arm, but hey, who were you to judge? Sam had removable wings and it was quite a normal thing around there.

Ironically, you never even talked to Bucky longer than few sentences. When you walked onto him in the morning in the kitchen, we’d ask how did you sleep, you’d ask the same and both of you would lie that it was well. Neither of the Avengers wanted to talk about their nightmares, really. It was something you all avoided.

But there wasn’t an uncomfortable, hostile tension between you and Bucky. You worked well together. Every mission you two went on was a success and one time you overheard Steve complaining to Nat that he was jealous that you and Bucky completed each other on missions better than him and Bucky. Nat just laughed it off.

You knew the secret behind it.

Neither you nor Bucky meant a thing to one another. Of course, you were teammates, of course you felt at least a bit of sympathy to each other but that was it. No deeper feelings were involved.

Or were they?

______

A split of second. It’s enough to change one’s life. You always thought that life-changing decision are well-thought, long and tough, fateful and irreversible.

Well, it that case, only last two words are a match.

Time seems to slow down but only for you. You can see Bucky eyeing the other side of the room, his back turned to you. You can hear water leaking from a faucet in an adjacent room. You can smell a stench of rot, of stale air, of a space that hasn’t been properly cleaned in ages.

There is a metallic taste in your mouth, your blood pumping in your ears, your body tensed and ready.

Bucky thinks that he’s safe, that you’re safe, and if you do nothing, he will die with that conviction.

The attacker moves noiselessly and you have noticed him only by some kind of miracle. If it wasn’t for that, both of you would surely be dead in a heartbeat. But luckily for Bucky, you saw the man sneaking up on him, with his gun pointed directly at Bucky’s head.

And you don’t hesitate as you jump to cover your partner when the attacker pulls the trigger.

You hit the ground with a loud thud, air being punched out of your lungs, a piercing overwhelming pain spreading from your stomach. You hear a gunshot and the attacker’s body hits the floor. Then, a call of your name and a sound of somebody next to you, a cold hand pressed to your belly.

Your eyelids feel heavy, too heavy to keep them open and the darkness seems so alluring, promising, without pain.

“Stark, send a medic, or somebody. Y/N’s shot. No, I can’t do it on my own. Just send that damn doctor!”

“Y/N, stay with me, hey, don’t close your eyes,” Bucky says softly, too softly and so you will your head to turn to the side. You try to frown but a jolting ache courses through your body and you arch your back, stifling a scream.

“Help’s gonna be here any moment,” he assures but you don’t believe in it. It’s impossible for anyone to arrive at time and lord, can someone take that pain away? It’s too much to handle, too much to consciously bare, and so, ignoring Bucky’s words, you close your eyes.

And greet the darkness with a relief.

_____

The room is filled with an electronic ticking of machines. A harsh light of halogen lamps attacks your eyes as you try to open them, squeezing them shut in an instant.

You moan as your mind comes to consciousness, numbed by the dose of meds that are pumped into your system by the tubes attached to your body.

There’s a sigh of relief coming from your left and with great effort you slide your head to the direction and open your eyes slightly.

Your vision is blurry but you can’t mistake the messy brown hair and ocean eyes for anybody else.

“You’re dumb, you know it?”

“Nice to see you, too,” you croak, your voice harsh, your throat filling as if it’s full of broken glass.

Bucky sighs again, but in next moment you feel a lip of a plastic cup pressed against our mouth as he helps you take a sip of water. It tastes delicious.

You blink a few times, adjusting to the lights.

“How bad is it?”

“You’ll pull through.”

“Why do I have a feeling it’s not good?” you jest but Bucky doesn’t smile. His expression is hard to read, emotionless almost.

“Natasha said she’d kill you if you died. Steve hadn’t slept since you were brought in here.”

“Had you?”

“No.”

A silence falls between the two of you, both of you only staring at each other, trying to figure out what to say next. Your mind is racing. Was it not a right thing to do, to take a bullet for your partner? Did they blame you for trying to save Bucky?

“He’d kill you if I didn’t do it.”

“So you decided to die for me?”

“I decided to save you.”

“Why?”

“Bucky, does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

You take a breath, your chest aching a little as you do so.

“You mean more to them than me.”

He lets out a surprised scoff.

“That’s the biggest bullshit I’ve ever heard. And believe me, I heard plenty.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Y/N, I don’t get it.”

“Which part you don’t get?”

“The one when you decided I mean more than you. Why? Why am I more important?”

“Didn’t you see the lengths Steve went to get you back?”

“He’d do the same for you.”

“Natasha won’t admit it, but she’d kill anybody that threatened you.”

“And she wouldn’t if you were in danger? Y/N, every single one in the team would-“

“Would what? Miss me if I’ll die?”

“Yes,” he states firmly, the sureness in his voice and certainty in his eyes making you speechless. This time you don’t think he’s laying. This time it’s genuine and it strikes you just how recklessly you acted. And how blind you were.

“I, for that matter, wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you died saving me. So don’t do it again. Ever.”

“But what if-“

“No what-ifs, Y/N. Next time we’re on a mission, I will make sure you don’t do something that stupid.”

“Bucky-“

“No, listen to me,” he leans in and reaches for your hand, taking it gently into his bionic one. He knows you’re not repulsed by it.

“I am not letting you die while trying to save me, or anyone else. You do not deserve it, okay? We have our backs but you’re not allowed to risk your life.”

“And you’re going to make sure of it.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t bear losing you,” he admits quietly and as his words sink in you finally realize why he seemed to be so angry with you.

The tension in the room is heavy, almost palpable and Bucky hangs his head low, pursing his lips. He messed up. He should’ve waited, shouldn’t have thrown it that fast, that unexpectedly.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“You said you didn’t sleep for quite some time.”

“Yes, why?”

“Do you think-“ you swallow a lump in your throat and gaze shyly into his eyes. “Do you think you can lay with me for a while? I think I’m gonna fall asleep soon, too much sedatives.”

He freezes only for a few seconds, and then he stands up and walks to the opposite side of bed. You gingerly scoot to the left to make him more place and he cautiously climbs into the bed, laying still, waiting for you to get comfortable.

You reach back for his arm and wrap it around your waist as you carefully press your back to his side. He rolls onto his side, and you feel his warm breath fanning over your neck.

You mean something. You finally mean something to someone. And that someone means something to you, too.

He means everything.

[helloohmarveluniverse]

Alrighty, thinking of some smut writing again....

It's either going to be

Or....

I'm still thinkin...

[helloohmarveluniverse]

Captain America w/reader part 1... (want more let me know!)

You walk into the Avengers building, not exactly sure on where to go.

Hell you weren’t from this realm in the first place. Everything is strange to you. The people, the way they dress, the sounds outside.....everything.

You walk onto the ground floor as a woman behind a tall counter is quickly talking to someone that you gather is a friend of hers by pointing out her tone and giddiness of her voice.

“Oh my goodness, you should have seen him today, it was GLORIOUS! He was in his uniform, all red, white and blue and it accentuated every curvy muscle he had. Let me tell ya girl, it took everything I had not to squeal at the sight of him. What I would give for a riiiiiiiiiide, ya know? I mean he is a God among men...” she stops as she looks at you.

“Hang on a minute girl, Yes ma’am can I help you?”

“Yes I was ordered by my father Odin to seek out the one they call Stark,”

“Well, um, do you have an appointment?”

“An appointment?”

“Yeah, a meeting with him set up?” as she rolled her eyes at what she thought would have been a stupid question.

“No I do not have one of those, tell him....the unspoken sister of Thor is here to see him,”

Her jaw dropped. She was completely speechless for a moment, “You mean God of Thunder, blonde hair, blue eyed and buff, brother of Loki? That Thor?!”

“Yes, is there a problem?”

“No ma’am please have a seat, and I will call someone down to take you to him,”

“Thank you,” as you look back to where she was pointing, such uncomfortable looking chairs, so small and weak. You didn’t want to sit down thinking that you could possibly break one by the shear weight of your armor.

(You look rather Asgardian, but have something else about you that no one can really put their finger on. You’re tall and slightly built, yet still very feminine. You do take pride in your look, dealing with your hair a makeup like any normal woman would. You had to make yourself look presentable of course. Hair down to your waist, various braids adorn with metal coiling and some gems. You weren’t a blonde like Thor, but had a beautiful dark shade of red no less. Curvy figure but still built. Many a men have gone after you, and no suited your needs or wants. But now wasn’t the time to think about that)

“Hello ma’am,” apparently the buff blonde the woman was talking about earlier came to greet you...

“My name is...” you hold up your hand to stop him...

“I know who you are, the woman behind the counter has such a fascination with you. But, no time for small talk, I am here to see Stark. Please tell me you will be able to help,”

“Ma’am I would be all to willing to help, would you follow me please?”

You nod your head and follow him without question, but still keeping on your guard.

[helloohmarveluniverse]

A shocking revelation...

You arrive on the Quinjet after being sent to a remote location for some spec ops mission.

Just a quick mission right? WRONG! The minute you landed in this remote area of the world. Everything goes to shit!

Almost literally! You were spotted the minute you jump off the helicopter. Cap is standing there next to you making sure all the gear is being unloaded and then a faint whistle is heard and BOOM!!

Both of you and your team of five are running for cover, having RPGs whizzing past your heads. You turn back to look and see one coming right for the back of Cap’s head and without thinking you push him to the ground, landing right on top of him.

At that split second you noticed that you were hidden in some pretty tall grass and few tree trunks were in the way too. Cap goes to say something to you but you put his hand over his mouth and motion for him to be quiet. He nods his head in agreement.

You slowly start to push yourself up, using his chest to brace yourself. You take a small peak and see three people, all reloading.

You whip your head around to him “I’m going to move, 12, 2 and 10, got it?”

He pulls his gun and nods again.

POP POP POP!! All three are down and then you and Cap book it again trying to find out where the others went.

Cap notices some recently flatten grass and you and him both follow. For a few seconds all was quiet....

Your ears perk, you hear whistling again....”Get down!!” you scream as you dive out of the way of the on coming RPG. Cap is laying there next to you tapping your shoulder, you give him the sign that you’re okay. You lay there for a minute.....listening.

You and him hear the crunching of grass and twigs as someone is slowly walking to you. You motion for him to shush again and point to your ear. He nods again, as he’s pulling out a small mirror from one of his pockets.

Laying on his stomach, he raises the mirror high enough for him to see the guy standing there looking around for you, Cap and your team.

All of the sudden the guy gets launched into the air by several small rockets. With the explosions going off, Cap covers your protectively...

“Well damn Cap, if you wanted alone time you should have said something,” Stark says as he glides down to both of you.

With Cap’s face turning red, “Thanks for the back up Tony,”

“Well I figured something was going on when no one checked in,”

“Yeah thanks Tony, here I was having fun and then you had to go an fuck it up,” as you smile at Cap. He’s giving you a bit of a dirty look, and you raise your hands up. “I know I know, language. I apologize,”

“Thank you,” Cap says as he winks at you......damn.....that’s a first. He’s never done that to you before. You kind of smirk at him as you, Tony, and Cap go and search for the rest of your team.

Back on the Quinjet:

“Please tell me that this flying fortress has a set of showers hidden somewhere?!” As you walk into the meeting room, everyone there realizes that you and Cap are covered head to toe in dirt, mud, and God know what else.

Clint is sitting there snickering “Well, it seems like you and Cap got a little down and dirty,” you look at his face, he just couldn’t resist. There goes Cap’s face again, and all you had to do was waive your arm in his direction so mud would fly at his face with a splat.

“Oh Clint honey, if we did....he’d be out of breath by now,” as you elbow Cap. You notice he’s even more red in the face now and he can’t even look at you.

Fury walks into the meeting room “Alright, alright what did we find out?”

“Other than Clint’s a little jealous right now? Not a damn thing, we had to get out of there quick. They knew we were going to be there!” as you exclaim rather loudly, “There’s a leak somewhere and we need to find that out first before we send anyone else back down there,” you lean forward and you put both hands down on the table in front of you.

“But first,” Fury leans on the glass wall, “You two need to get cleaned up, showers are on the second rung, left of the elevator,”

You and Cap look at each other, you look back,”Thanks boss,”

[kittenwritesstuff]

Color me happy

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Maximoff)reader Genres: insecurity, mild angst, super fluff Words: 1.710 Summary: You feel insecure and useless because of your lack of special abilities. Bucky notices it and comforts you - requested by Anonymous

Late evening finds you in the kitchen area, making yourself yet another cup of tea. It’s your pick-me-up drink – green tea with honey and you usually make it when your mood is down.

Which is almost every day lately.

You’re ordinary. And it wouldn’t be that bad if you were surrounded by similar ordinary non-special people. But you, being a Maximoff, are living with a team of skilled, gifted people, the Avengers, which makes you feel like a not needed obstacle at times.

Wanda and Pietro never did anything to make you feel unwanted. When you were at Strucker’s base, during the experiments, you were fairly convinced that you, too, would show a sign of mutation, just as they did.

It turned out that the scepter did not affect you in a way it did your sibling, making you nothing more but a rubbish. Only Wanda’s angry protests resulted in you being kept there. Strucker was ready to get rid of you when an occasion occurred, since you were useless, having manifested no mutation.

You had no idea why you failed at it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Wanda and Pietro were twins, maybe it was because they were older. Nobody knew.

And since the day the Avengers came and destroyed the base you were only proven that you were only Wanda’s and Pietro’s sister and only because of it they allowed you to live with at the compound.

Sure, you were clever and sometimes helpful, especially during an emergency rescue missions when everything had to be settled immediately, within a few minutes. You knew how to stay focused and organized and there were times when Tony didn’t even touch anything because you had everything handled within seconds.

Still, you were not irreplaceable. If you left, they would surely do well without you.

Heaving out a sigh, you take the cup and make to the living area. You plan on watching a comedy or something of that sorts, in hopes that it will cheer you up.

You have the entire place to yourself – the rest is on the mission. Only Bucky, Steve’s friend, was left at the compound. Usually, the two of you would just mind one another’s business, even while being in the same room; sometimes you’d spent hours on talking. You wouldn’t call it friendship but you enjoyed being around him. He was quiet, but once he opened his mouth,  you could be sure he’d throw a joke here and there or tell you something he had recalled about 40s.

But today you want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to anybody, don’t want to see anyone, just you and your tea. And maybe a movie.

Once you reach the living area, you carefully place the cup on the table and reach for the remote while making yourself comfortable on the couch. You curl up in the couch’s end, your knees almost touching your chin. You are aware that you look miserable but it’s not like anyone will notice. Maybe Wanda, if she was here, would sense that you were upset.

Shuffling through the channels you have yet to find anything interesting and because of the noise the TV makes you don’t hear Bucky entering the place. You notice his presence only when he lets out a small huff while sitting down.

You jerk your head, quite startled and Bucky smiles softly.

“Sorry, Y/N, didn’t want to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shrugging and turn your attention to the screen. Finally, you find a Friends marathon and decide to watch it.

Frankly, you don’t pay too much attention to what is happening in the show. You just stare at the screen blindly, your mind occupied with the thoughts of being in the way, of being unneeded and useless.

You tug on sleeves of your sweater. It’s oversized, so you’re able to cover your entire palms, which you do, hugging your legs to your chest. You don’t see it but Bucky’s glancing at you every now and then, he’s face concerned. Yes, he noticed that you were out of sorts pretty often but usually a bit of jesting would make you smile and you were always up for a conversation. But not today. Today you seem oddly detached, unsure and utterly sad.

“Y/N,” he calls your name quietly, not wanting to prod too much. You don’t seem to hear it so he calls again, a bit louder this time.

“Hm?” you absentmindedly answer, not even looking at him and Bucky shifts a bit closer.

“I’m wearing Sam’s boxers.”

“That’s cool,” you say emotionlessly, like a robot and for a moment Bucky fears that something really bad happened to you. You sound almost like him while he was under HYDRA’s control.  

“Y/N, can you look at me?”

“No, I’m busy. I’m watching the show.”

“Commercial break is on right now,” he states and you blink. When did it happen?

“Oh,” you pant and turn your gaze at him. Was he so close before or you didn’t even notice when he scooted closer?

“You okay?” he inquires, his voice soft, his eyes sympathetic and you find yourself unable to bottle it up any longer.

“No, Bucky. What am I even doing here?” you whine, tears filling your eyes and you bite at your lower lip to prevent them from falling.

“Right now we’re sitting in a dark room, watching ice cream commercial. But that’s not what you meant, is it?”

You shake your head and sniffle. Bucky reaches to the table to give you a tissue box before you start crying. You can’t hold it back anymore – the insecurities you kept hidden have clawed their way out and you can’t do much about it now.

“I’m useless,” you stutter between cries and Bucky knits his brows, a look of disbelief clear on his face.

“That’s bullshit, doll.”

“No, Bucky. I don’t do anything here. There’s nothing special about me.”

“You’re wrong, Y/N.”

“I’m not. I’m just a girl who’s here because my sister can do stuff with her mind and my brother runs super fast.”

“Maybe that’s what special about you, okay? That you didn’t let the scepter change you?”

“Bucky, that doesn’t make sense,” you protest as you wipe at your cheeks and Bucky smirks.

“No, it does. Just hear me out. You’re so wonderful and strong inside that the scepter couldn’t break you.”

You frown, not really following his logic. Is he really suggesting that you sibling was too weak to fight back the scepter’s power but you succeeded? How could he even think of it that way?

“Look, the only special person around here is Thor. He’s a God, like a legit, real God, but the rest? We’re all just a bunch of people who were given a serum or something. Tony’s a genius, nothing very special about it –“ you snort and Bucky gives you an amused look. “- Sam’s got his wings but without them he’s just a regular guys. Nat was trained since young to be an assassin. Steve and I got a super-soldier juice. Bruce, well… Bruce is, uhm, different.”

“He’s a green mountain of rage,” you say, your voice playful and Bucky cracks a grin.

“If you put it this way… But you know what I mean? You’re the most special from all of us. You wanna know why?”

“Yeah.”

“Because even though you don’t have ‘super powers’ you put up with all this madness which is living with us and without a word of comply you give your time to bake us cookies or read Clint a book when he’s beefing that he’s so very tired after a mission. You listen to my rumbling. You always say good stuff about Steve’s sketches. Nat told me that you’re best when it comes to picking an outfit for a night out.”

“No, I’m not,” you try to protest but Bucky taps your nose which makes you wrinkle it.

“Don’t downgrade yourself, doll. We’d be lost without you, really. I know I would!” he assures and cup your cheeks, suddenly feeling bashful. You never looked at it the way Bucky just presented. To you, it seemed your presence was bothering everyone and they were nice only out of courtesy.

“I’m really that important?”

“Hell yes! Remember when you told Tony he should turn the project upside down to look for faults? He actually ended up making it that way because it was better. And he stated, out loud and in front of witnesses, that you’re smarter than him.”

“Shut up, Bucky.”

“Do I see a blush there?” he teases and you hide your face in your hands to cover it. He damn sure saw you blushing very clearly.

“Y/N, doll, please, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you mumble from behind your hands and Bucky chuckles airily as he reaches to uncover your face. You shiver slightly at the contrast of temperature of his hands but it’s not unpleasant. You always found it fascinating.

“That’s better,” he says and smiles brightly when you look at him, your hands squeezed in his. It’s hard to not smile while Bucky’s face is lit up and so you do, readily throwing yourself in his embrace when he opens his arms for you.

He quickly scoops you up his lap, his arms wrapped around your frame, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your back. You feel so at easy, so peaceful that you nuzzle your face into his neck, almost melting into him.

He doesn’t seem to mind, his arms tightening slightly around you. You sigh contently, closing your eyes as Bucky tilts his head to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

Paradoxically, the man who was the most distant and quiet, was the one to pick you up and help you look at yourself in a totally new light. And with a newly gained confidence about yourself you decide to say something you buried so deep that even your sister couldn’t find it.

“I like you, Bucky,” you state simply and you feel Buck’s lips curl up in a smile.

“I like you, too, Y/N.”

And simple as that, your previously grey, shadowy world begins to fill with colors again.  

[kittenwritesstuff]

Touch it off

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Genres: tiny bit of angst, fluff, humor Words: 2.260 Summary: A sudden turn on a mission forces Bucky and reader to seek a place to hide. During the wait Bucky has a surprising request - requested by Anonymous

You have been on countless missions, easy and difficult ones, short and long, dangerous and exhausting.  You were paired up with all of the team, yet nothing could ever prepare you for what you have been faced with now.

A god-only-knows how much time, locked in what looked like storage, with your very good friend. Sure, you wouldn’t be panicking if it was somebody else, but Bucky… Bucky makes your blood boil every time you’re near him.

And no, not in a bad way. He doesn’t annoy you and heavens know you are not scared of him because of what HYDRA made him do. You have met him when he was recovering, trying to regain his memories. You, Sam and Steve had traveled to Romania to save Bucky and you weren’t thinking about anything else than to get everybody somewhere safe.

But then, as the conflict was, more or less, solved and you were staying at Wakanda, you and Bucky have become more than just teammates. You had been supporting Steve where Bucky was in cryo, and then when he was awoken, you had helped him readjust.

Quickly, Bucky and you become friends. Hours spent on talking strengthen the bond between the two of you gradually, and much to your happiness, there were times when Bucky favored your company over Steve’s.

Still, you made sure than two old friends were around each other frequently enough, more often than not ending up as the third participant of movie nights, pranking Sam or simply reading books while cuddling.

Yet, somewhere along the way, when your mind was at ease, when there was nothing threatening, you noticed that Bucky has become significantly more important. You couldn’t imagine not seeing him, even once a day. You had waited for him to knock on your door where a nightmare woke him up in the middle of the night. When something happened, Bucky was the first person you wanted to tell.

It happened quietly, as if you were always meant to fall in love with him, you just needed time to grow to it, just as Bucky. It was easy to be around him and forget about all your worries when he started to joke or sing a song from his past. It wasn’t hard to lose yourself in his stories about old times, or when enthusiasm lit up his ocean-like eyes when he kept rambling about a new thing he discovered.

Of course, you read about soulmates in many books. However, it never occurred to you that the term might be real, might be reflected in your own life. It seemed impossible to feel something that strong, something that fulfilling and earth-shattering to other person.

It all changed when you got to know Bucky. When you realized that you truly thought that his and yours soul were the same.

Or, because to you Bucky’s mind and soul were as rich and beautiful as a galaxy, you and him were made from the same star.

You didn’t utter a word to anyone. Although you were sure that Nat knew (she always knows, nothing can be a secret for too long around her), nobody was to know about what you truly felt for Bucky.

Simply because you did not think he would feel the same way about you. What else could you be to him but a supportive, kind friend?

“Y/N? You okay?” Bucky whispers close to your ear, bringing you back to the present moment. Your situation is problematic, to say the least.

The two of you were supposed to sneak in to a probable HYDRA facility and retrieve the Red Notebook, which somehow got into their hands again. Bucky’s brain was fixed, but better safe than sorry, right?

Well, sure, it was going perfectly until you stumbled upon a room, filled with dozens of armed HYDRA soldiers, looking as if they were waiting for a certain someone to come in. You assumed it was most likely Bucky they were waiting for.

So, you and Bucky did one thing you could at the moment. You ran to a nearest empty place which happened to be a storage. You have sent a message to T’challa, asking for help and now you are stuck in a small space with your crush, who is pressed in a weird position against your back. His arms are propped on a wall in front of you, just above your head, his feet on the floor between your slightly parted legs. And for some reason he’s been trying not to touch the opposite wall, but you didn’t have time to sneak a peak of what’s there.

You rest your forehead on a cold wall, heaving out a sigh.

“I’m fine, Buck. You?”

“You don’t seem fine,” he remarks seriously but you can hear concern in his voice.

“I’m very much fine, really. I just don’t like this place.”

“Yeah, me neither. How long Kitty King said it would take him?”

You roll your eyes, happy that Bucky can’t see you. No matter how long he and T’challa spent with one another, they couldn’t stop picking on each other. The bickering seemed to their way of communication and various sarcastic nicknames soon subbed for their real names.

“An hour, more or less. I’m counting on less.”

“Same here, doll. I don’t think I can bear much.”

“What, you’re not happy to be in my company?” you tease, glancing at his over your shoulder. You can hardly see more than his jaw and his lips, which are curled up in a smirk.

“Nope, that’s a huge perk of being stuck here. It’s just that- you won’t panic, will you Y/N?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine but you brace yourself and shake your head.

“Good, ‘cause there’s a loaded grenade launcher behind my back.”

“A what?!” you shriek, suddenly very fond of the wall as you press yourself further into it, folding your arms on your chest. You place your palms flat onto the wall, your head resting on them.

Bucky shifts a bit closer to you, gaining a small, yet oh so important distance from the weapon.

“Why the hell is it loaded?”

“Dunno, Y/N.”

“Who keeps a loaded grenade launcher in a tiny storage?”

“Maybe they wanted to have it close at hand?”

“Bucky!”your voice rises an octave and Bucky shushes you.

“Just breathe, doll. T’challa is going to rescue us and we’re going to get out alive from here.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

“Alright,” you smile softly as Bucky leans in and kisses the top of your head. Of course, dread doesn’t leave you mind, it skyrockets as you realize that Bucky would be the first one to het the blow.

Damn him and his gentlemanly manners.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“If we get out of here, I’ll make you a pile of pancakes.”

“When we get out of here, Y/N.”

“Okay, when we’re out of here, I’ll make you pancakes.”

“Sounds great. With maple syrup and marshmallows?”

“Sure, whatever you want. By the way, how can you stomach so much sweetness it’s beyond me.”

He shrugs a little, a small movement that sends tickles over body.

“It’s yummy and I love it.”

“Super-soldiers,” you mumble with mocked disbelief, but there’s fondness in your voice and it makes Bucky chuckle soundlessly, his chest vibrating against your back.

You can’t stop a shiver from coursing through your body.

“You’re cold?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Buck?”

“This may be our last moment alive - ”

“You’re such an optimist, James.”

“Let me finish, doll. As I was saying, this may be our last moment alive, which is way I want to ask you something.”

His voice sounds oddly bashful and you want to turn around and look at him, but you know you can’t. The launcher could fire, depriving Bucky of a chance to say what he has in mind.

Bucky takes a deep breath and only now you realize how nervous he is. The jesting and lighthearted tone was only a façade, most likely meant for you to stop panicking. But the truth was – Bucky was beyond anxious, stuck in a small space with you, the girl who made him believe in love again, who made him want to share his every waking moment with her, who he wanted to see the first thing in the morning and the last at night.

Sure, for a very long time he only thought of you as a great friend and frankly, never even considered a possibility that you might want something more, yet now, when he was face to face with the possibility of missing his chance, Bucky decided that there he couldn’t wait anymore.

“Can I kiss you?”

Time freezes, for both of you. Bucky’s afraid that with that question he’s ruined your friendship and you frown, unable to believe your own ears.

Has your mind tricked you?

“W-what?” you cleverly ask, shifting a little to be able to gaze at him.

Bucky’s tongue glides over his bottom lip as his eyes drop at your parted mouth.

“I know I never gave you a sign, doll, but damn, now I know I should. I was a blind idiot, so forgive me for wasting so much time.”

“O-okay,” you mutter and Bucky nods.

“So, I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Sure,” you smile and tilt your head to the side when Bucky leans in. Your lips meet and even though the position is not very comfortable, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

The kiss is tender and chaste only at the beginning. It quickly turns into an intense, hungry one, both of you desperate to taste one another and you moan breathlessly when Bucky’s tongue rubs against yours in the second you part your lips.

His flesh hand lands on your hip, the metal one remains propped onto the wall as you reach to hold onto it while your other hand tangles into his hair, pulling him closer.

You only break the kiss for a short moment when the two of you need a breath, but as soon as your lungs are refilled with air, your lips are locked again, not having enough of each other.

The two of you are way too lost in one another to hear the sound of shooting, quickened footsteps and shouting in Russian. Surely, with your senses invaded and focused only on Bucky, you are too overwhelmed to fathom that the facility is very quiet.

Much to your surprise, the door to the storage is swung open and you pull away from Bucky with a yelp, covering your mouth with the hand you had in Bucky’s hair.

“They’re fine. Found them making out in a storage at the back,” Sam reports into his com, amusement evident in his voice and you wish that the Earth opened up and swallowed you.

Of course, nothing of that sorts happens and you have to walk past snickering Sam as, with Bucky’s help, you squeeze yourself out of the small room. Before you close the door, you look in the opposite corner and your eyes grow wide, your blood boiling with not lust but anger.

“James Buchanan Barnes!” you growl, spinning around and marching towards the man.

“Y-yes, babydoll?” you got to admit, he tries to keep his cool, despite looking more than frightened.

“Are your eyes fine? I mean, do you maybe need glasses?” you sync your steps with his, being now at his side as you stare at him with feign worry.

“No, why are you asking, my beautiful angel?”

“Don’t sugar me, the launcher wasn’t loaded.”

“You told her it was loaded?!” Sam gives in to the laughter, cackling loudly as he pats Bucky’s back while passing him. Bucky gulps and tries to sport an innocent look.

“Y/N, please-“

“Stop with puppy eyes, you’re in so much trouble once we’re back in Wakanda.”

“But pancakes?” he whines and you throw your arms in the air.

“No pancakes for you. No cuddles and no Eskimo kisses either.”

“Y/N, doll, please!”

“No, Bucky,” you say sternly and climb into a quinjet, Bucky following  suit. Before you can take a seat next to Sam, who’s the pilot, Bucky drops onto his knees in front of you and wraps his arms tightly around your hips. You roll your eyes at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“You better be.”

“I’m a fool.”

“There’s no denying it.”

“I’m only a fool for you,” he murmurs and pouts adorably and you can feel yourself melting at the sight.

“You guys are so fucking sappy,” Sam mumbles, though he doesn’t sound disgusted. There’s an odd fondness in his voice. “Y/N, he meant well, he’s just incapable of showing his emotions without life-threatening danger looming over his head. He created favorable circumstances.”

“Is that true?” you quirk up a brow and Bucky nods his head fervently.

“Are you comfortable in this position?” you ask, spinning your finger over your lower half and Bucky.

“Yes, why?” he knits his brows a little although the sparkles in his eyes tell you that he knows what you meant.

“You’re gonna be in it a lot tonight,” you announce and laugh when Sam lets out a heavy sight, mumbling something about not being paid enough to deal with this shit.

You giggle when you feel Bucky’s head pressing against your stomach and you comb your fingers through his hair.

Even if the danger wasn’t real, what Bucky said was, and you think you can forgive the little antic.

After all, you gained a whole lot more.  

[kittenwritesstuff]

He’s such a charmer

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (nurse)reader Genres: fluff Words: 1.165 Summary: based on this Fluffy Friday ask sent by @still-another-dreamer to @bucky-plums-barnes​

You’re in the middle of preparing instruments for another patient when a barely audible knocking makes you turn your head towards the door to your room.

„H-hi, I was called for a check up,” a tall, dark-haired man speaks up, standing at the door as if he doesn’t know if he should walk in or run for his life.

You flash him a soft smile.

„Yes, please come in,” you encourage him, patting a settee on your left and, forcing out a tight smile, he slowly approaches it, sliding up on it. He lets out a shaky breath.

„My name’s Y/N, and as you probably figured I’m team’s nurse. It’s a standard procedure, just a normal check up. Nothing invasive, I promise.”

“Yeah, I know, Steve told me,” he mutters, watching as you take out a file and open it.

“Mister Barnes, yes?”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Alright then, Bucky, can we begin?”

He nods, rubbing his flesh hand on his sweatpants  as you gently put a barometer around his bicep.

“Try to relax, Bucky, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know, it’s just...” he swallows thickly, his gaze flickering to a trace with the instruments, focusing on a  syringe. “I’m not fond of needles. Been stung so many times it’s probably enough for a few lifetimes,” he tries to joke but it’s pretty evident that the thought of needles makes him nervous and anxious.

He’s not the first one to reach that way at the sight of syringe.

When you first came to work as a nurse for the Avengers you were prepared for a team of fearless people, who would not get scared by a prospect of taking blood samples. Contrary to your assumptions, most of them freaked out, more or less.

Natasha was always composed, she only wanted to be done with it as quick as possible. Thor and Vision were both fascinated and asked you a lot of questions about everything you were doing. It was a great occasion to revise your knowledge.

Bruce knew it was necessary but that didn’t mean he liked it. He always flinched when you took his blood.

Only Tony and Steve were never stressed out. They walked in, chatted with you as you did your job, Tony usually trying to flirt with you. Apparently, they were used to needles, but given their life experience you weren’t surprised.

“Now, don’t talk for a while. This will vibrate a little.”

“I’m kinda used to vibrating stuff,” he says, waving his metal hand at you and you smile warmly before pressing a start on the barometer.

Bucky falls silent, yet you can still see how fidgety he is. His eyes wander every now and then on your tray and you wonder how to trick him and occupy him while you’ll be taking his blood.

An idea pops up in your mind when you remember Steve’s recent visit. He told about how he and Bucky used to kill time in the 40s, how different the world was and what improved since then. Maybe chatting Bucky up is a good way to take his mind off the needles?

The barometers makes a quiet ‘ding’ sound and so you quickly note the result down in Bucky’s file and remove it from his bicep.

“A bit quickened but let’s say it’s because of the serum,” you say confidentially and Bucky gives you a lopsided smile.

You move to the tray and, putting on latex gloves, ready the syringe after unwrapping a clean needle.  Bucky takes a deep breath and you began to feel sorry for him. God only knows what it does remind him of.

“So, Steve told me you were quite a charmer back in the 40s?” you say as you pour a peroxide on a cotton wad and then press it in the crook of his elbow.

“He can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?” Bucky laughs through his nose and you nod, throwing the wad into the trash can.

“He was such a chatterbox, little Stevie,” he muses and you smirk, hoping that your scheme will work just fine. You glance at Bucky, glad to see that his gaze is fixed on a window, giving you an opportunity to do your job, hopefully unnoticed.

You place a rubber tie above his elbow so that the veins become prominent, and dab below his elbow a few times, checking if he noticed. He seems to be lost in his thoughts as a fond smile appears on his face.

“He was constantly bubbling, getting all excited about stuff. New sketchbook? Stevie would give you a detailed review why was it good or bad. Same when he got new pencils. His mom used to joke that she wished Steve had an off switch. Sometimes, he was really too much.”

“Same around girls?” you ask, taking a syringe and when you press the needle against his skin, Bucky doesn’t even move. Points to you.

“No, that punk would stutter like an idiot near girls! He couldn’t say a word, couldn’t speak a sentence, I had to do all the talking for him. It was like his mouth didn’t cooperate with his brain,” he chuckles and you use that moment to sink the needle in his vein, taking the blood in no time.

“But the 40s were great, I guess. Though, Steve still gets into trouble way too easily. Back then, I used to tease him that he should’ve changed his middle name to ‘trouble’, ‘cause he always found it. It followed him like a shadow, really. Like he had this radar in his head that scanned the surroundings and always spotted a path with drunk guys or something like that on it.”

You dispose the needle into a trash can and quickly prepare a wad, which you press against the sting, unwrapping the tie and bending Bucky’s arm.

“Thank you for cooperation, Bucky. We’re done here,” you announce happily and Bucky blinks a few times, gazing at you.

“Wait, you did-? I didn’t feel anything!” he marvels, looking at his arms with disbelief. You grin as you take off the gloves and throw them as well.

“You’re not my first patient who’s afraid of needles. I know how to do my job.”

“Holy cow, you’re amazing, doll,” he says with wide opened eyes and you shrug. You’re happy that you managed to not cause him any pain, physical or mental.

“When do you finish your shift?” he asks out of sudden as he stands up, making you jerk your head to look at him, caught off guard.

“Err...In two hours,” you answer, excitement bubbling in your chest as you realize that he’ll most likely ask you out.

“Okay,” he nods his head, flashing you a wide smile. “I’ll pick you up then, Y/N.”

“I’d love that.”

He heads out, giving you one last bright smile and once he’s gone, you cup your cheek, not even surprised when you find it warm.

A charmer, indeed.  

[kittenwritesstuff]

Till the end of the line - part II

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Steve’s sister)reader Genres: angst, fluff Words: 2.190 Summary: Bucky finally comes to terms with his feeling for reader - requested on AO3 Part I 

To this day, you are convinced that Natasha is secretly some kind of goddess, not only regarding her strength and abilities but mainly because of the speediness she has gotten Bucky’s files.

They were helpful, of course, but mostly they caused you further heartache. The first time you had read them, you cried your eyes out, weeping over Bucky’s fate, filled with horrors nobody should ever endure. Every single torture he had to suffer was a cut to your heart, and for a very long time you have mourned the young boy you once knew, the one you fell in love with, the one that HYDRA turned into a terrifying weapon.

Steve had somehow gotten over it and accepted it sooner than you, urging you to start looking for Bucky, keen to throw himself into action as fast as possible. He was even ready to forgo his duties as Captain of the Avengers, but you and Sam convinced him to focus on it, while you and him would care of searching.

Unfortunately, Bucky had been trained well and he knew how to hide in plain sight, how to lay low and avoid being seen or recognized and so you and Sam had a lot of troubles in finding him despite your great efforts and skills.

The search remained fruitless, until the tragedy in Vienna and possible Soldier’s involvement. Of course, you never even thought that Bucky did it, you were sure that, more than anything, he wanted to stay unbothered, to be left at peace.

The idea that somebody was causing all this only to get to Bucky came to your mind as soon as the power was shut down and, not even waiting for anyone, you darted out of the room, heading to where Bucky was kept.

Steve knew how emotional you were around Bucky so he told you to stay behind while he and Sam went to Romania. But now, as there was a serious threat that the doctor wanted for Bucky to relapse and go into Winter Soldier mode, you didn’t let anyone stop you.

Unfortunately, you were too late and Bucky was already forced to become a weapon, so his first instinct was to attack you and get you off his way. He advanced at you with a fearsome expression and your blood froze in your veins. You were mortified, ready to defend yourself from the man you loved and most likely hurting him in the process but Bucky stopped in his tracks right in front of you.

He blinked a few times as if trying to figure out why he did stop, his brows furrowed, his lips pursed and you held your breath, waiting for something, anything.

Bucky let out a shaky breath as he searched your face frantically, his palms balling into fists. You hesitantly lifted your palm and reached to his face but before you could touch him, Steve stormed in and Soldier’s instincts kicked in, pushing him into a fight.

And you – you were frozen, trying to figure out why didn’t he attack you. Bucky was gone, turned into the Soldier who shouldn’t know you, shouldn’t recognize you.

Yet, he did.

Did it mean that Steve was right? That you really could be the one to crack the Soldier’s code and bring Bucky back?    

________

When the conflict between Steve and Tony worsened and you realized that the only solution for it would be a fight between the Avengers you decided to step back. You didn’t want to be a part of the clash, and so you cursed at your brother for being so stubborn and told him to leave you alone so that you could actually get to the real issue here, which was Bucky’s well-being.

Although, for some reason you couldn’t stand being with him in one room, too hurt to know that he only recalled your name and that you were Steve’s sister. It was too painful for you to see your friends fight with each other just because every single one of them was too headstrong to find a middle ground, to compromise.

You needed time to recover, to come to terms with the fact that Bucky might be himself again, but he wasn’t the same anymore. The Winter Soldier would be always present, corrupting his mind and poisoning his thoughts.

Only when it was over, when Bucky was brought back to Wakanda, you decided to meet him. You asked T’challa for some alone time with him before he would be put back into cryo.

“Hey,” you say simply, shoving your hands into jeans’ pockets, looking at Bucky unsurely. You don’t know how to react, how to approach him after all this.

“Wise choice, to stay away from that fight,” he states and you give him a lopsided smile.

“It wasn’t my fight,” you shrug. “Had enough of them in my life.”

“That’s true,” he chuckles airily, his eyes lighting up with what looks like amusement. “I remember when you were trying to reason little Steve. Or me, from time to time.”

“Y-you remember?” your eyes widen a little and Bucky nods slowly.

“Not everything, though. Some memories are back, some need more time, I guess.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

He rolls his eyes and for a moment you see his old self, you see Bucky from before the war and your chest tightens a little.

“The best for now. Until they find a way to fix my head.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, not really having anything to say. He’s made up his mind, and deep inside you know it’s a good choice.

“Steve tried it too, y’know. And I told him the same thing. I can’t trust my own mind.”

“I get it, Bucky,” you assure him and when one of the doctors peaks in, Bucky gives him a nod.

You step out of the room, unable to look at it. Just a thought was heartbreaking for you, an image would be too much.

Hour later the door to your room opens and Steve slides in, quickly gathering you into his arms, silently letting you cry the pain away.

There isn’t much you can do now. Only wait.

_______

“Steve, how many times do I have to tell you that confessing my feelings wouldn’t magically fix Bucky’s head?”

“Yeah, but hear me out-“

“You’ve read too much fairytales.”

“Those are called romances, Y/N.”

“Whatever,” you mumble as you place the last pancake on top of the pile, meant to be your brother’s breakfast.

“And every time true love wins. You and Bucky, you two belong to each other, Y/N, why don’t you wanna see it?”

“Because it’s not real. Steve, those are books, they’re made up, there’s no true love. Enjoy,” you add as you put the plate in front of him and Steve beams at you before taking a huge bite of the pancake.

“Thanks. Anyway, Bucky will be out of the cryo soon, and you should tell him.”

“Where do you have a ‘stop’ button, you jerk?”

“Huh, it’s my secret, sweetheart. Not telling you.”

“You won’t stop bugging me, will ya?”

“Never, Y/N.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he grins and shoves another large portion of his meal as you roll your eyes, asking heavens what have you ever done to deserve such an insufferable brother?

_____

You supported T’challa’s idea without thinking twice, knowing that it was a pretty good idea. He proposed that you and Steve would, only for some time, not interact with Bucky to prevent triggering memories from resurfacing. T’challa trusted his doctors yet precautions had to be taken.

Steve did rebel, of course he did. He couldn’t bear the idea that Bucky would be left alone despite T’challa convincing him that there were specialists to take care of Bucky and his fragile mind.

Natasha was assigned to keep an eye on Bucky while he was recovering and, during short moments when she visited you, you knew that he was doing well.

“He remembers you. A lot about you. It’s like you’re some kind of solid rock or something.”

“You know that I don’t want to hear it?”

“Y/N, who do you want to fool? Steve? Me? Or yourself?”

“I’m not fooling anyone,” you say through gritted teeth as Nat smirks, the all-knowing look on her face. She’s too observant, you think, she knows too much.

“You’ll see for yourself. Soon.”

_________

The nightmares aren’t something that you were told you would have to suffer from when you signed the papers before the experiment. Various side effects were listed, yes, but nightmares?

Then again, one does not have them after being given a serum, right? They come from traumas, from life events that are too much to handle, too much to come to terms with, too painful and haunting.

Natasha said once that for most of the nights, she dreamt about the Red Room. Sam dreams about his military service, about his friend. Steve, which is easy to guess, dreams about losing you or Bucky. It still haunts him, making him feel guilty that he wasn’t fast enough on that train.

You, apart from dreaming about never seeing Steve or Bucky again, often times re-live the moment of falling into the water. The plane on fire, Steve by your side and the endless water before you.

You can’t scream, you can’t move, you can do nothing.

The powerlessness is what you fear the most, and it’s a common topic of your night terrors.

Tonight is no different and once you grounded yourself in reality, repeating like a mantra that you are alive and well, Steve and Bucky are too, that you’re safe in Wakanda, you are sitting on your bed, knowing damn well that there is no chance of getting any more sleep that night.

A fearless fighter too scared of going back to sleep. Ironic, yet real. And not only describing you, sadly.

You can hear tossing and turning in other rooms. You hear muffled groaning or whimpering, but you can’t force yourself to move. Sometimes it’s best to let them wake up by themselves.

There are hurried footsteps, thumping on the floor of the corridor but you pay no attention to them. It happened more than once, more than a hundred times. You assume it’s Steve, rushing to the gym to try and take his mind off the nightmares by running or punching the training bag.

But, much to your shock, the footsteps near your room and in next moment your door are swung open with a force that almost takes it off its hinges and a panting Bucky halts in the doorway, his feverish gaze locked on you.

“Y/N, you’re… I saw you… there was so much blood…” he mumbles and you stand up, reaching for his flesh hand. Thanks to T’challa, Bucky was given a brand new metal arm, but you are still reluctant to touch it.    

He grabs your hand firmly, stroking the skin, squeezing as if checking if it’s truly real. You pull him in gently and he whimpers when he feels your other hand brushing his hair away from his face. His sweating and shaking.

“They took you, Y/N. They tied you and make me watch it. I couldn’t… I’m sorry I wasn’t-“

“Shh, Buck, it wasn’t real,” you coo, trying to soothe him. He looks tormented and he lets go of your hand to place his flesh one on your cheek.

“I know you,” he states after long seconds of absolute silence and your heart skyrockets. Your lips part slightly as you watch him smile tenderly at you. It’s a surprising change and you’re not sure what caused it.

“You’re Y/N, Stevie’s sister. That I know. You looked after us. We… I didn’t have guts then,” he says bashfully and you move both of your hands to cup his face. much to your shock, he lets out a relieved sigh and nuzzles into your touch.

“Bucky, what are you talking about?”

“I couldn’t understand why looking at you make me feel… certain things. Even when I was the Soldier, you had an effect on me and I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Until recently. Until I started dreaming about seeing as you were taken away from me. Until Natasha suggested that I was denying myself the reason because I was a coward.”

“She was right, I gotta admit. I was a coward but I don’t wanna be one now. You’re Y/N. My Y/N. And I know you.”

You swallow thickly to get rid of the lump in your throat and lean in to rest your forehead against his. You fell tears streaming down your cheeks but you don’t mind them. After so many years, so much pain and suffering, he’s here, he’s back and it’s all that matters right now.

You snake an arm around his middle and pull him closer to you and Bucky carefully wraps his metal arm around your waist. You smile gently at him Bucky’s lips curl up a little in a small but joyful smile.

“I know you, too, James.”

[kittenwritesstuff]

Till the end of the line

Fandom: Marvel Pairings: Steve x (sister)reader, slight Bucky x reader Genres: so. much. angst, tiny bit of fluff Words: 2.810 Summary: Not wanting to leave her brother’s side, reader insists on getting the serum as well. She lives through it all, fights by his side and eventually comes face to face with Bucky, the man she fell in love with, who’s now HYDRA’s weapon - requested by @hopelessgarbage

Your eyes grow wide as you stare at your brother, trying to fully understand what he’s just said. A sickening feeling takes residence in your guts, filling you with nauseous dread.

“Stevie, please, tell me it’s just a joke.”

“No, Y/N, I’ve got enlisted. Legally.”

“B-but… how?”

“A doctor, who was examining me, told me that they have a special program and that I can participate, if I want to. I do want to. I’ll join the army, help the country-“

“No, Steve, no!” you whine, cupping your face as you lower your head, squeezing your eyes shut. It can’t be real, it can’t be happening. What kind of insane doctor looked at Steve and deemed him healthy to any kind of activities? Your brother is too small, suffers from asthma and heart problems, how could anyone agree on him joining the army?

“It’s too much, I can’t…”

“Y/N, I’m gonna be fine. Maybe they’ll fix me,” he shrugs, smiling weakly as if it’s not a possibly experimental treatment he’s signed up for. Steve looks too calm, too certain of this whole thing and you start to regret not cuffing him to a radiator as you said when he first mentioned enlisting.

“You don’t need fixing, Steve. You’re not flawed. I’ve already lost Bucky to the war, I can’t willingly let you go. Who knows if you ever come back to me?”

“Silly, of course I’ll be back. As will Bucky.”

“Both of you treat it like an ordinary camp. It’s war, Steve, kill or get killed.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he asks rhetorically, his tone turning serious and you lift your gaze to meet his big blue eyes. He’s made up his mind, you know you can’t reason with him. Nothing you can say will change his decision, and it breaks your heart.

“And Y/N, if you said a word, Bucky wouldn’t go. If you only told him…”

“No, don’t start with it again. I didn’t because it wouldn’t change a damn thing. He’d go and you’re well aware of it. I don’t need what-ifs and you-should-haves. Bucky’s gone and I… I need to deal with it somehow.”

Steve rises from his seat and comes to your side, putting his skinny arms around you and hugging you tightly. You never actually spoke about what you feel for Bucky but Steve is way too observant to not notice it. He didn’t prod, didn’t bug you to tell James, and you’re grateful for that.

It’s always been the three of you, since your childhood. You, Steve and Bucky. Together or not at all. As you grew up, however, your feelings for Bucky changed, became deeper but since Bucky didn’t show any sign of feeling something more, you remained silent about your affection. Steve was positive Bucky reciprocates your feelings but you were too scared of losing him to utter a word.

And now, when the war came, you lost him anyway. How cruel and ironic.

You bite on your lower lip to will away a sob as you realize that soon, you’ll be on your own. Alone, in a flat shared with Steve, waiting for your boys to come home, hoping that they’ll return in one piece. Foolishly, during last evening with Bucky, you promised yourself that you’ll confess once the war is over and he’s back but now, it all seems impossible.

Inevitably, the fate will gift you with a broken heart, regardless the outcome. Because you are sure that miracles don’t happen and either one of them, or – worse – both will get hurt and won’t return to you.

Unless…

“I’m your big sister, Steve, you’re gonna draw me in.”

“W-what?!”

“I’m coming with you. Or you’re not coming at all. End of the discussion. I promised mom to keep an eye on you and I intend to hold on to that promise no matter what. I’m coming with you.”

______

Steve knew better than to argue with you. You’d win, as per usual. You had more common sense than him, but equally lot of courage and so when Steve took you to doctor Abraham Erskine, the medic only smiled and gave you papers. You quirked an eyebrow but assumed that Steve was already kind enough to tell the doctor about his ‘overprotective’ sister, and you signed the papers.

The doctor then examined you and explained what kind of program you’d just signed in. Project Rebirth, as it was called, was a secret experiment to create America’s Perfect Soldier, someone who would lead and inspire the troops to keep fighting for freedom. He wasn’t convinced that bringing a woman to this program was a good idea but when you jested that nothing fuels men more than a pretty lady, he admitted that you might be right.

The training was harder than you anticipated. You realized they’d push you to your limits, just as they did with Steve, but neither of you gave up or even complied. It was a necessary step, despite all of the catcalling and teasing you received. More than once, you proved yourself worthy more than the men, prompting a smile to appear on Peggy Carter’s face and an expression of approval and slight surprise on Colonel Phillips’s.

You were happy when the day of injecting the serum came. It meant that, only in few days, you’d be fighting for freedom, for your country. You’d lie if you said that those ideals didn’t flood your head when you were training, backed up by Steve’s proud words.

Yet, concern for your brother stayed glued to your heart, no matter how many times he succeeded, no matter how many time he bested those bigger and stronger than him. He was still your little brother, your Stevie and you would protect him with all your might, small or big.

‘Taller’ wasn’t the word you’d use to describe how you felt after stepping out of the reactor. Steve went first and you prayed to whatever deity was listening that he’d walked out really ‘fixed’. Peggy held your hand reassuringly as the procedure was performed on your brother, surely doing the same for him when your turn came.

Admittedly, you didn’t grow taller. Of course, you gained muscles but what changed the most was the feeling of undefeatable, unstoppable strength, a sort of energy pumping through your veins. It came with a modesty, too, a respect of what was given to you and the sense that it should be only used for good, never for bad.

And so, you were utterly crestfallen that, after doctor Erskine’s violent death, you were proposed, almost ordered, to perform for people, turning Steve into Captain America and you into Miss America, the country’s role model sibling. You were to be symbols of hope and strength, to promote and encourage participation in war.

It wasn’t what you were supposed to do and soon, Steve and you decided to run away and serve in the army, as you were meant to be. Fortunately, Peggy was on your side and supported you through your breakdowns. You didn’t know what you would do without her.

Scared to death after finding out about HYDRA, an organization of power-abusing and ill-driven monsters, you fought with all your might with it. Knowing that it must be destroyed by all means necessary, to save Americans and whole world, you did what you had to and never hesitated.

You jumped onto the plate alongside your brother, not questioning this decision. It had to be done.

You reached for his hand when he piloted the jet, holding it firmly as you directed into the water.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Steve muttered after connection with Peggy was lost and tears pricked at your eyes but you smiled regardless.

“Don’t be. I knew what I was signing for.”

Bucky’s grey-blue eyes was the last thing you saw before you hit the water.

_______

It gave you hope, to become a part of a team. Amongst the Avengers you found new friends, people who helped you with adjust to modern times and who gave you a sense of belonging, so much needed after you and Steve were awoken from the ice.

What you did not expect, what never even crossed your mind during dark times was that HYDRA was still growing, still alive, despite your efforts to take it down. It had its claws everywhere, even in something so safe and transparent as SHIELD.

Once again, Steve and you were fighting with it. Once again, you were trying to rid the world of its ideals, its drive to control every aspect of people’s lives and ignite fear. It had to be stopped so, with Steve, Natasha and newly met Sam, you are now running away from a chase, not even slightly prepared for what comes next.

A figure lands on the top of the car with a loud thud and before you can act, Sitwell is grabbed roughly and pulled out of the vehicle, a metal arm the only thing you managed to catch with your eyes. The steering wheel is ripped as well, giving you no choice but to abandon the car whatsoever. You grab your shield, Steve takes his and by some miracle, you jump off relatively unharmed, although scattered about the highway.

You land on lower level, on a car’s top and you groan when you roll underneath it, shouting at people to get as far away as they can run. A dull ache in your back briefly makes you unable to move but as Natasha darts in the distance, you jump on your feet, fishing out your gun. At least, you’re armed.

She manages to hit the metal armed assassin and then runs for her life, a hopeful look in her away as she passes you by.

“Get help, I’ll cover you!” you shout after her and dare a look over your shoulder to check on Steve. He’s unwounded, it seems, and so you position yourself, shooting at the men clad in black as they slide down on their lines, taking them down one by one. Steve stands next to you, using his shield to strike off their bullets as he slowly closes the distance between them.

And that’s when the Soldier makes an appearance.

Your brother hides behind a car and you do what you always do – you join him.

“Y/N, he’s too strong.”

“Bullshit. Okay, maybe. You go, Sam will cover you. I’ll be right behind you.”

Steve nods and doesn’t waste any second as he runs off. True to your prediction, Sam keeps the Soldier occupied for a moment and you use it to take off as well, creating as much distance as you can and crouch behind a car, immediately noticing Natasha’s phone.

“Clever,” you mumble as you realize it’s a recording and the Widow herself is stationed behind a car across the street.

The Soldier comes into the view again, preparing his gun. You watch him walking exactly when Nat wanted and when he rolls a bomb you know he caught the bait. Before you can even move, Natasha jumps and wraps her thighs around his neck, putting a line on his throat.

She’s not as successful as she wishes to be, however, because the Soldier sends her crashing against a car, giving her no time to recover. You do what comes up first in your head – you send your shield at his legs, making him lose his balance and Natasha uses that chance to flee, ushering remaining people to run for their lives, still she doesn’t run fast enough – a bullet reaches her, knocking her down.

With anger boiling in your blood, you decide to go against the Soldier. Hand in hand combat is a rather stupid idea but his gun isn’t prepared and when you reach him, you kick in it, disarming him. Then, you aim for his crotch but he backs away just in time, punching you in your stomach. You collapse onto the ground but, luckily, Steve is there on time – next punch collides with his shield and the sound resonates straight into your core.

Once you recover, you stand up and, working with Steve, you try to stop the Soldier. He seems to be undefeatable, even for the two of you fighting in sync, but somehow Steve manages to send the Soldier flipping over, losing his mask in the result.

Holding on your middle, where you believe you have a broken rib, you stumble to stand next to Steve as the assassin straightens up and turns around to face you.

Your mouth falls agape as a breath gets caught in your throat, your heart sinking and a cold shiver runs down your spine. You know him. You’d recognize him everywhere, even with long hair and that terrifying metal limb.

“Bucky?” Steve says out loud what your mind already knows, his voice thick and breathless.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” the Soldier says and his words are enough to completely beat you up, better than any gun can. It pains, more than all those hits he directed at you, more than anything ever, even seeing him fall from that bloody train.

You can’t quite make up anything after that moment. Somewhere from behind you Natasha shots at the Soldier – at Bucky – after Sam knocks him down. The assassin flees and then you’re taken by the Strike Unit, by HYDRA and you don’t know how but you’re driving in the van, most likely to a place you’ll be killed off.

You hear what Sam and Steve are talking about but you can’t really understand it. How is it possible? How did this happen? Why did they turn Bucky into the Winter Soldier?

“Y/N?”

“Y/N, please, say something.”

“He doesn’t know me.”

“He doesn’t know me either, Y/N,” Steve mutters, his voice filled with sadness and you bit harshly to not sob out loud.

“It’s okay, you can cry,” Sam sooths although you’re sure he doesn’t really get why Steve and you are so shaken. He didn’t know Bucky before the war. He didn’t know the caring, selfless man who often spent sleepless night with you when Steve was sick and you were afraid that it was it, that he would not wake up. He didn’t know the witty, funny guy who often said jokes just to make you laugh.

He saw only the HYDRA’s weapon, not the man you loved underneath it.

Steve answer the unasked question before you can open your mouth to stop him.

“Y/N and Bucky-“

“There was no me and Bucky, Steve.”

“I know, but you-“

“I still do.”

“Y/N-“

“No, Steve. Just don’t say it.”

_____

“I knew them. The two on the bridge.”

“You’ve met them earlier this week on another assignment.”

“But I knew her. I knew him. She’s…”

“Prep him.”

_____

After Maria rescued you and brought to Nick, you couldn’t do much. You were indifferent, deep in your thoughts. You only told you’d do anything Steve would agree on and so they gave you a part in taking down the Hellicarriers as a backup on the ground, in case Sam or Steve were unable to reach the panels.

You were glad that you didn’t have to face Bucky once again. The first encounter with him already did a damage and you’re not sure if you’ll ever recover from it. It’s way too much for you handle at the moment.    

It was even more heartbreaking when you got to Steve and he mumbled that it was Bucky who pulled him from the river. That he cracked the code, that Bucky remembered. You couldn’t believe it and you’re still not convinced if you should.

Despite your doubts, you are now standing by your brother’s side, looking at the file Natasha gave him. Everything’s there, all the answers and your heart starts racing at the mere thought that you’ll find out what happened to your Bucky.

“I said your name and he hesitated.”

“Steve, don’t torture me. I don’t wanna know about this.”

“Y/N, stop. I don’t want to hurt you but I think… I think you’re the one who can bring him back.”

“You’re going after him, aren’t you?” Sam asks as he approaches the two of you and you nod at him. He smiles, obviously already knowing the answer.

“You don’t have to do this,” Steve adds gently, giving Sam an opportunity to give up the case but the latter only smiles wider.

“I know. When do we start?”

“Y/N? You’re in?”

“Are you serious? Of course I am.”

“Thought so.”

“How can you ask? You know the line, Steve,” you squeeze a smirk, your eyes however remain sad and desperate.

Steve wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into a hug, kissing your temple.

“I know, Y/N. Together or not at all.”

[kittenwritesstuff]

Sweet as sugar

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Genres: super fluff, suggestive themes Words: 828 (sorry it’s so short :/)  Summary: based on a imagine: “Imagine waking Bucky up with a kiss” - requested by Anonymous

You stir and huff, opening one of your eyes. The room is illuminated by sneaky rays of sun that managed to squeeze their way through the blinds, cascading an orange glow over the floor, the nightstand, the bad and a solid body laying next to you.

Bucky looks as if he’s wearing a halo and you gasp at the sheer beauty. He always looks so peaceful, so serene unlike those times in the middle of the night when he screams with terror and tosses in bed.

The devil may chase him in his dreams, but in the morning Bucky is still an angel, ready to give his heart away should it be needed. And you are so damn lucky to be loved by him.

With both eyes opened and wrinkled eyes from a fond smile that curls up your lips, you fidget a little in attempt to get closer to him. You frown slightly when you notice something stopping you.

His metal arm. It’s draped across your middle, keeping you still. You can turn to your side, however, and that’s what you do, fixing your eyes on Bucky’s handsome face. Your smile broadens when you remember the reason behind being held by his bionic arms rather than the flesh one. “Metal’s more solid,” he’s said, “you can’t slide away from me in the night while I hold you with it.”

As if you would ever want to be away from Bucky.

Carefully, you shift your position and rest your palms on his chest, being now face to face with your boyfriend. You ponder for a moment – is it really okay to kiss him and wake him up in the process, or should you just let him sleep for a bit longer? Will he be angry at you for awaking him or rather pleased by such a way? You glance at his lips, slightly puckered and looking irresistibly soft, and you give in.

Slowly, you lean to him and peck his lips briefly, waiting for his reaction. He creases his nose, but doesn’t wake up so you decide to press your lips against his once more, this time firmer and fonder.

And this time, you are met with matching affection as Bucky sprawls his metal hand over your back and brings you closer, his mouth moving against yours leisurely.  

Morning breath be damned, you can’t stop right now, not when Bucky pokes his tongue out, teasing your bottom lip. You love those sweet mornings, when neither of you rushes to get ready for the day, even if you have duties waiting to be tended to. The world can wait, especially when Bucky’s in a mood for more than kisses and cuddled.

Eventually, you part for a breath and Bucky gazes at you, his eyelid still heavy.

“Morning, doll,” he says, his voice hoarse from sleep and you grin, tangling one of your hands into his silky hair.

“Morning, hot shot. What’s our plan for today?”

“Lazy morning sex,” he answers matter-of-factly and you giggle, feeling his wander underneath your shirt – well, his shirt, to be frank.

“Is that so?” you tease, quirking up your brow and Bucky gives you an innocent look.

“Baby, you woke me up with a kiss, sex is what usually follows.”

“But I have to go to work.”

“No, you don’t,” he snorts and within seconds, flips you onto your back, his broad frame hovering above you.

“Yes, I do,” you say sternly, although the fact that Bucky starts pressing open mouth kisses to neck doesn’t help steady your voice. “Tony came up with a new project, and I need to do some calculations...”

“Boring,” Bucky states, gradually covering your skin with the touch of his lips and you moan softly when he rolls your shirt up and over your head, your stomach being the next place of his sweet assault.

“It’s my job, Bucky, I can’t just… show up late… when he expects me-“

Bucky stops in his tracks down your stomach and looks at you with furrowed brows.

“I’ll call him,” he announces and before you can even protest, Bucky grabs your phone and dials the number. You watch him with mortified expression and pale face, much to his amusement.

“Stark, it’s Bucky. Y/N’s gonna be late. No, she’s not sick, I’ll just… she’ll be busy with me.”

And with that he end the call and puts your phone away, a smug smirk appearing on his face.

“Tony will tease me forever.”

“I’ll beat the shit out of him if he dares.”

“He’s my boss and your teammate, babe, you can’t just punch him.”

“I can if he says something wrong to my girl,” Bucky says seriously and leans in to lock his lips with yours, positively drawing your attention to him and him only.

You yelp when he rips your panties from you but you don’t mind. Truth be told, you had it in mind when you decided to kiss him, right?

[helloohmarveluniverse]

A shocking revelation Part 2

You and Cap are making your down to the showers....in the elevator you both get a good look at yourselves in the reflection...then the giggling ensues.

He starts picking things out of your hair, and you start unwedging leaves that are caught in his armor. Your hand moves for the latch that’s holding his helmet in place and flick the lock.

“Oh lordy I didn’t mean to push you into the dirt and muck that much Cap,” as you remove his helmet and see that he has a line across his face from where mud met helmet.

“Its Steve, and don’t worry about it! I think you had fun pushing me down,” His ears had gotten a bit pinker when he said that but those blue eyes....they sparkled. You smile at him giving him a wink. Then you stare at each other for a moment. It was like you two were having your own private conversation....and then the jerk of the elevator knocks you out of it.....damn it! You were enjoying that view too. Those blue eyes accompanied with that half smile. Watching him get a little shy and trying to look away.....ugh that damn door

Steve holds open the elevator door “Ladies first,”

“Oh why thank you,” You smile and give a wink back, and getting a hint of his reddening ears as you walk past.

(Okay your in a catsuit, yep those kind that are pretty much stuck to you. Its purple but only when the light hits it. It looks black from a distance. Now your figure is one that could rival Jessica Rabbit. Yeah, Steve doesn’t know who she is but you do. And let’s face folks your waist isn’t going to get that tiny. But you do look healthy and feel that way to. Unlike Nat, your hair is longer and tied up. But since you decided to roll around with Cap....its a mess and you cannot wait to get it undone, and by the way...your a redhead ;) )

You start a brisk walk to the showers, you start to undo your hair. And as you let it fall you start to unzip the front of your suit. Finally! The girls can breathe a little. You hear boot falls matching pace.

“Hey I was wond....” as he matches your pace but then gets a good look at what you’ve unleashed. Of course you don’t really notice as you are trying to get to your locker and get a fresh suit and undies....

“What’s up Steve, what were you wondering?”

“Ummm....” he makes his way to his locker and starts unloading clothes...

“Well, *clears throat* I was wondering if you have a late night tonight?”

Strange question, but you shrug it off, “Probably since we were ambushed, have to help keep as eye on things down there,”

“Right I understand, um....so....I was....um....going to ask....if.....uhhh,” you hear the nerves in his voice get the best of him. You look over and he’s shaking just a bit. Adorable.

“nerves getting the best of ya there?” as you giggle it out. You shut your locker and walk over to him. “I could always use the company, and another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt either,” as you whisper in his ear. He smirks and lets out a bit of a snort.

“Okay, I’ll bring some coffee by later, how’s that?”

“Bring some food too and then I’ll let ya in,” as he look at you while you wink again at him.

“Deal,” as he smiles brightly. You turn on your heal as fast as you can, that smile is making you weak kneed...gotta act cool.

“See ya in the showers Steve,” as you walk out the door you hear something thunk on the floor. You stifle a laugh and bolt to the women’s shower room. You didn’t think he was going to take that seriously. But this is Steve Rogers we are talking about here.

You open the door to the showers and you start to strip. You didn’t even hear the door close. You were too busy getting those damn boots off.

Half way unzipping your boots you completely forget that you have knives stowed away. You grr at yourself and make your way out the shower door yet again because you need to put them back....

You walk back into the locker room and find Steve there, shirtless, pants-less, and with only a set of boxers on....tights ones.....Oh you feel your face start to flush at the sight. Still making your way back to your locker, he hears you

“Forget something?”

“Yeah, forgot to unload my boots,” as you are remembering more and more things that you have tucked away. He turns around to watch.

“How much are you holding in there?”

With a small smirk you look at him, “Top or bottom?”

His ears get red again, looking away and smiling “ Depends on what holds what,”

“Well, in my boots I can carry two knives, four extra mags and a few little tricks for the treaters that we meet. Up top, well as long as I look natural, anything goes,” He turns back around to face you and your now standing there with your hands on your hips.

Smiling brightly “It all looks good from here (Y/N),”

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing Steve,” as you strut out of the locker room for the second time...