#new bucky au

[orions-athenaeumficlibrary]

When You're Smiling- Prologue

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x F!reader

Synopsis: Throughout your life you have been labeled "boring" because of your quiet, thoughtful nature. For example, you weren't a fan of parties, frats or really anything that required you to be around big groups of people. But after being dragged to a party, you meet someone who seems determined to prove that you have an adventurous side as well.

Chapter Warnings: panic attack, anxiety, drinking, sexual harassment

Word Count: 1.5k

Prologue

“Please Y/n. You don’t even have to stay for that long.” Sitting on the floor of your apartment, you continued to track your eyes over the pages of your textbook. You weren’t really retaining any information, you hadn’t been since your roommate Wanda barged in five minutes ago and began pestering you to go to a frat party with her. 

“Seriously, a night out would be good for you. You don’t even have to talk to anyone, but at least leave this apartment. Honestly, it’s getting kinda sad that you just sit here with your books every night-” 

“OK.” You cut off her somewhat offensive rambling by roughly slamming your psychology textbook shut. “If you are so concerned about my social life I will, for forty five minutes, go to this party.” Wanda squealed and threw her arms around you. 

“Thank you, I promise once you get there you’ll have so much fun!” Your face remained neutral but inside your stomach was beginning to twist itself into a tight knot. There was a reason you didn’t really like parties, of course you wouldn’t judge your friends for going to as many as they could, they just weren't your scene. “-oh, I’m gonna call Nat, she can bring over some tops for you to try, let me grab my phone, I’ll be right back.” You didn’t realize you had zoned out long enough for Wanda to bring your other friend Natasha into the equation. When Wanda left the room you tried to distract yourself from spiraling by watching the rain dance against the window. This is “cozy romance novel reading” weather, not “get wasted with a bunch of randos” weather, you thought to yourself, but then instantly shook your head and brushed your glasses up to rub your eyes. Maybe you were in desperate need of a party. Or not. Because frat parties were the worst. The last one you were at was three years ago during your freshman year: you went in excited to try something new, and ended the night drenched in someone else’s beer, with tears running down your cheeks and mascara staining your face. You didn’t know who spilled beer on you, but the tears and mascara combination was courtesy of having to watch the guy you liked make out with not one, but three girls that night. To top it all off, one of your heels had snapped, forcing you to walk home in 30 degree weather with no shoes. So you weren’t a fan of frat parties, and maybe you shouldn’t base your judgements on one awful experience, but you had never been party type before and that night seemed like a sign from the universe confirming, “you and parties do NOT mix.” 

Wanda’s hurried footsteps interrupted the mental storm that had been picking up speed over the time she was absent. 

“Ok, Nat is on her way, and she’s bringing options for shirts, and I have this new pair of heels that would look so-” 

“No. No heels, sorry Wan.” You said somewhat sheepishly. You hadn’t known Wanda yet when you went through the frat debacle a couple years ago and for some reason you had elected to withhold that story from your two closest friends. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t brought it up, maybe you figured they would stop trying to force you to party every weekend, or maybe they would insist you give it another try. The latter is what you were afraid of, and knowing Nat and Wanda, the former was not likely to happen. 

Wanda gave you a curious look, but if she thought something was off she didn’t say anything. Instead, she ran to the door as a buzz sounded on the intercom. 

_________________________________________

An hour later, you were dressed in a long sleeved open back top, baggy jeans, and a pair of well loved (extremely dirty) shoes. Wanda and Nat practically dragged you out of your apartment and down the street, laughing and talking animatedly all while you stayed quiet and counted the yellow taxis that rushed past you.

When the three of you finally made it to the party, an inky darkness had settled over the city. The grass beneath your feet was still damp from that afternoon’s rain and you couldn’t help but frown at how humid it had become, dreading how suffocating it was going to be inside the house. 

“Do you wanna grab something to drink?” Nat yelled over the bass as you tried to squeeze through the crowded entryway. You were immediately overwhelmed, strobe lights were flashing against the walls, music was shaking the floor and hot, sweaty bodies kept bumping up against you. You closed your eyes in an attempt to somehow center yourself. After a few seconds of futilely waiting for a moment of peace, you let your eyelids flutter open and to your annoyance, Nat and Wanda were no longer standing beside you. You knew it wasn’t their fault, and that they would never intentionally leave you alone, but you couldn’t stop the panic that began rising in your chest from the absence of your two friends. Not knowing what else to do, you shouldered your way through the mass of drunk college students, searching for a quiet place to stand and look for Nat and Wanda. You had scouted out a small, unoccupied alcove under the stairs and made your way to it. Two steps and you would have gotten some reprieve from the chaos, but instead a tall body blocked your path and sharp brown eyes eyed you up and down. 

“Haven’t seen you at one of these yet.” His voice was slightly slurred and the mix of alcohol and cheap cologne pouring off of him was almost nauseating. “You lookin’ for someone to spend a little time with?” He asked inching closer and forcing you to press your back against the railing of the staircase. Now your breath was coming much too quick and the familiar numbness sprouting in your fingertips told you that you were on the verge of having a panic attack. You’d been through enough over the past years to recognize when one was coming. You also knew that if you could’t find a calm place to ground yourself in the next few minutes you were going to break down. With your mind in panic mode, you glanced over your shoulder and saw that the staircase you were pinned against led to a seemingly quiet hall. Deciding that was your only option, you shoved the guy’s chest and used his sluggish, drunken state as an opportunity to escape his grasp and head towards the stairs. You jumped over the “Stay Downstairs or Thor Will Kick Your Ass” sign that was haphazardly strung across the bottom entryway and took the stairs two at a time to get to the hall. There were no lights on in the corridor, but the strobes from the party downstairs provided you with enough light to find a doorknob. You desperately pushed on the door, but it was locked, so you ran to the next one, only to find yourself in the same situation. You didn’t notice the faint glow under the third door you tried and you almost cried in relief when the knob turned without any resistance.

You hurried into the room and closed the door, pressing your back against the cool wood and shutting your eyes. Starting at 100, you took a deep breath and exhaled counting backwards by three in your head. In your anxious state, you barely noticed the tears that were rushing down your cheeks. And you really had not noticed that you weren’t alone in this room. 

“Uh, is everything- are you ok?” A baritone voice caused your eyes to shoot open as you desperately tried to figure out its source through your blurred vision. Bringing your hands to your eyes you began to furiously wipe away the tears, ignoring the slight burning caused by the friction from your shirt against your skin. 

“Hey, whoah, hold on, you're gonna hurt yourself.” The voice said again, this time with more urgency. Suddenly, a pair of warm hands wrapped carefully around your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face. You were able to blink back enough tears to make out a head of blonde hair, broad shoulders, and kind blue eyes. The man in front of you continued to coax you down from your panic, and slowly the tears stopped falling while your breaths evened out. As embarrassed as you were that this kind man had to witness your anxiety attack you were grateful for his help. But just as you began to offer your thanks the door was thrown open, and a deep voice shouted over the blaring music downstairs. 

“Steve, what the hell are you doing locked away in your-” his words trailed off as his cerulean blue eyes landed on your tear stained face…

Chapter One coming this week!

tags~

@vicmc624 / @sjsmith56

[johnslittlespoon]

Thinking about the exquisite imagery of Bucky shaving his mustache, while in contrast Buck let’s his scruff grow in. I can see it so clearly: Bucky shaves the ‘stach when they’re in the POW camp as a result of losing a bet (it’s highly probable he lost of purpose because he wants to give the men an opportunity to laugh it up). But it totally goes sideways once it becomes clear how young he looks without it. Buck on the other hand is stressing over this new change enough to forget to shave for a few weeks straight. Is this brain rot due to me thinking about Callum’s look in the Green Room combined with Austin’s look in the Bikeriders? Yes. Please send help.

in case anyone needs a lovely visual! (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

okay, while i PERSONALLY am in love with bucky's stache and feel like shaving it even in fiction would be an absolute travesty, i see the vision and i agree, i could totally see something like that happening.

john does it as a joke/for a bet and figures that hey, they're all gonna be stuck in the camp for a while anyway, chances are it'll grow back by the time it really matters. no big deal, and it gets laughs in a place where those are increasingly rare, even if he has to suffer through relentless teasing about his baby face for a few weeks.

gale does not deal with it nearly as well, however; it throws off any routine he's built and it feels ridiculous because it's just facial hair but it's such a big change after the monotony of day–to–day behind the fence that it's enough to rattle his brain. and letting his own facial hair grow out probably isn't even a conscious choice, almost like a mindless way of falling back into sync with john as both of theirs grows back.

if buckbucky is an established thing in this verse, we all know damn well john would be obsessed with gale's scruff, rubbing his own cheek up against it like a cat, thirsting over it and ogling him 24/7.

and the way it feels against his thighs, stubble burn leaving the sensitive skin a pretty pink when gale's face is between his legs...

john would be devastated and pouty when it comes time for him to finally shave it, but gale would promise him "when we get out, i'll let it grow back for a bit, yeah?" and that would perk him right up. <3

[jakes3resin]

Modern Reincarnation AU

"Sorry," Bucky grins, stepping out of the way. The other man stares up at him, blue eyes wide. "You alright there?" "Coffee for Buck!" The barista calls out behind them, jolting the other man out of his stupor. The man grabs the coffee. He thanks the barista in a rush, barely even looking at his coffee. He turns back to Bucky, lips pursed as he stares at him. His grip on his coffee, Bucky notes, is verging on too tight. The poor cup looks like it's going to crumple. Bucky smiles, gesturing for the other to walk by, but Buck just stands there. "Sorry, this is weird, but you look a lot like a guy I once knew from Wisconsin." Buck says, not once taking his eyes off of Bucky. "Also went by the name Bucky." "Wow," Bucky says. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "What a coincidence!"

You know those reincarnation AUs where one person remembers their shared past while the other doesn't? Well, what if only Buck remembered, and he met Bucky, who didn't?

[navybrat817]

I love them all. I hope you do, too. ❤️

[shamrockqueen]

Predator in the desert

Chapter 1

Pairing : Bucky X reader (Post apocalyptic AU)

Warnings : R18, Kidnapping, Fallout new Vegas vibes, Violence, imminent danger

Word count : 1332

Bucky Masterlist

Scavenging the wasteland was generally frowned upon but not enforced by any laws. Not like there was anyone left to enforce them. But, many people deemed it unsafe and often not worth leaving the limited safety of one’s small shanty town to venture out into the desert wasteland.

You’ve been very lucky thus far, as you’ve broken this rule several times in the hopes of finding useful scraps to trade for enough food to fill your belly for the night. It usually pays off, if only a little. But a little is more than nothing, and it beats starving in the night.

Most of the things to be found were abandoned vehicles and the occasional junk pile that can be taken apart for scrap. Some hauls are better than others, and then there are some days where you don’t find anything. This was one of those days, as nothing popped up on the horizon while you wandered the dusty landscape. You’d hate to waste this trip on nothing, but you couldn’t go much further under this blazing sun.

At some point, you’d just have to call it quits and turn back toward town. You kicked the dust in frustration from the knowledge that you didn’t have a single scrap of food waiting for you back home and not a dime to buy some. You had a bit of water left in your bag that would have to last you the trek back, but you hadn’t the energy to turn around just yet.

You chose instead to hunker down in the shade of a large rock to sip from the near-empty canteen before making the journey back. The feeling of the last drop hitting your tongue was almost as heartbreaking as the lingering metallic taste it left in your mouth.

There wasn’t any time to dwell on it now; instead, you packed your bottle away and got back up.

At the time, it seemed no different than the same old shit life had dealt you every day, but you’d look back on this as a low moment. From here, there would be lower moments, but this one in particular would be the beginning of the end.

You didn’t see him following you from that high ledge; you didn’t see him climb his way down, stalking you along the rocks, but you did hear something. The light crunch of dirt under boots that weren’t yours rang right through your ears, making you stop in your tracks.

The footsteps stopped too as you stood idle, waiting out the dribble of sweat that ran along your back before whipping your head around to see…nothing.

A bit of weeds and dust blew through the barren tundra, but there was no living soul amongst it. Maybe you were hearing things, or maybe you were just an easier target than you’d thought.

Something was following you that day, something that easily evaded your line of sight just in time to take you out. When you turn back towards your path, your head is immediately knocked in the other direction with a burst of pain at the back of your cranium.

Your lights go out with a grunt before your now-loose limbs collide with the hard, dusty ground. You hit it like a heavy bag of rocks, leaving you aching and yet numb.

He watched you for a second, noticing the shallow breaths you still took and wondering whether he dealt too heavy of a blow.

Small rocks were crunched under his heavy boots as he got closer to kneel down by your side. He slipped two of his bare fingers along your neck before applying pressure near your jugular to feel the soft pulse of your heart still healthily beating.

The light bounced off of his dark goggles, only to be dulled by the rough plastic from the rest of his face mask. He stared back out towards the vast wasteland, watching as the sun still hung high above the dry landscape and burned down on the both of you. When he turned his attention back to you, he slipped his arms under your body to better carry you away.

Strings of light filter through your shaking eyelids every now and again as the world around you swayed back and forth. Few images can come through as you fight the black fog threatening to take over your consciousness. There was this tough gray-brown mass moving in and out of your limited field of vision, back and forth in time with the crunching of the rocky sand.

The blood starts to rush to your already-aching head, making it more and more difficult to force your eyes open. You can’t fight it anymore, and your sight is finally stolen from you. The light will only return when your position shifts and you're laid out on some oddly comforting yet lumpy bedding.

Your mind is cloudy, but you could still feel something wide and warm handling the back of your hair as the spout of a cool bottle is pressed to your lips. The second that the wonderful water hits your tongue, your body is moving upright to follow it and gulp it all up.

When the bottle is pulled away, the air in the room is no longer thin, allowing you to take a deep breath and open your eyes to your new surroundings.

Grayed wood and rusted metal made up a pretty rough but well-put-together room. Your eyes circled the area until they landed on the only moving mass within it. Him.

He was still holding the glass bottle when he came into view. His skin was tanned, save for the slashes of scar tissue that ran along his skin in thin white lines.

His dark hair was thick with sweat as it hung at just his shoulders, and his face still had a slight smear of black camo paint, making his face only half visible in your still blurry vision. You had to blink a few times to get the full picture, only to be left a bit speechless by the full image before you.

His muscles were tight and well defined, like they could snap forward and stop a punch within a split second, and they were on full display even through his dirty tank top. Yet, the sight that you linger on the most was his sharp gaze as it stabbed right through your skin. His eyes were a cutting and inescapable blue that made the blood freeze in your veins and the hair on your arms stand on end.

You’d never seen anyone like this in your life. No one could ever dream to look so healthy, let alone so strong. No, the only people left in the wastelands had hollow eyes that sank deep into their skulls, signifying their early demise. The set staring you down had far too much life inside of them, burning like a blue flame.

The only thing that stole your eyes away from his was the gleam of light that bounced off of the interlocking metal muscles that made up his left arm and hand. If you had the strength to do so, you would have kicked yourself for not noticing it immediately. There were few people left in this world with advanced implements such as that, and even fewer that still carried their emblems of war.

Your body felt numb as you stared into the dulled red star at the arm’s shoulder.

They were old stories told to you by the family you used to have; you never truly believed them, as you’d never seen such a symbol not once in your life...not until now.

All the stories that spoke of the red star ended in genocide and destruction. But, you were still alive.

You adjusted your gaze back to his still-stern face, unable to read much from him as his expression lacked obvious emotion. He’d kept you in one piece this far, but what would happen next?

More Post apocalyptic AU

[gaysindistress]

Cece and Schmidt wish they were us

Bucky x desi!reader mood board

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

[trenchcoatsandtimetravel]

Thinking about what might have happened if Steve never got the serum and wasn't in Italy when he heard of Bucky's capture.

In Brooklyn, November 1943, Steve gets a letter saying Bucky is MIA. That's not dead and his heart clings to that faint glimmer of hope. Not dead, just missing. Bucky's a fighter. The army will find him and eventually he'll come home.

But then Steve reads about how the 107th were captured and that the army is refusing to mount a rescue. Steve would never let an injustice like stand, serum or no. Especially not if there's a chance Bucky is still alive.

He starts making a racket, Bucky's friends and coworkers in their neighbourhood support Steve's efforts and the racket gets heard. He gets arrested for it, but a Cop friend of Bucky's (who used to box at Bucky's gym), let's Steve go without charge; he thinks it's an injustice too.

Steve remembers the Stark Expo and Stark's grand technology claims, and somehow gets himself in front of Stark; making enough noise and showing enough tenacity that Stark is impressed (and amused).

Stark is always looking for an excuse to show the army how superior his tech is, so sure he'll help this guy mount a rescue mission, just think of the press if they succeed! And no one ever needs to know he was involved if it fails.

So Steve, 5 foot something, with asthma and a whole host of other ailments, who the army declared 4F on 4 different occasions, drops into Kreischberg. He manages to sneak through the compound unnoticed and liberates the POWs and (most importantly to Steve) rescues Bucky.

Schmidt isn't aware Steve's there, or who he is, so the compound isn't blown up—not until the POWs set it ablaze on their way out and Schmidt has no time to escape. He and Zola are killed by the explosions of their own bombs.

Steve and Bucky make it back to the US camp. Bucky's injuries and the torture he endured give him the excuse he needs to be discharged and returned home.

Steve isn't military in the first place, so he can't be court martialed. Besides, the press is loving the rescue so instead, Steve's role is hushed up and Stark gets the credit, but Steve doesn't care.

He and Bucky slip back to Brooklyn where they both enjoy a hero's welcome from their neighbours and live out their days in peace.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

New Girl [01]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

(slow burn, endgame, as in you’ll be seeing some short term pairings here and then as well)

MODERN DAY AU

Word count: 5,417

Warning: self-doubt, anxiety, hurt/comfort, cursing

Summary: Life threw you a curve ball when you walked in on  your long term boyfriend making out with someone who definitely wasn’t  you. Since living with him was no longer an option, you’ve ventured out  at the advice of a work friend and found the absolute perfect loft to  reside in. The only issue?

You suddenly have four very odd roommates.

[01]: REBOUND SEX

“Wow, I regret this.” Bucky bobbed his head once and turned to look at Peter who stood in the kitchen with him, “What the fuck did you do to us?”

“How is this my fault??” Peter scoffed.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, “Uh, I think your exact words were, ‘Come on, guys. Models will be crawling around the apartment. This will be an absolute dream.’” He pointed to the living room where you were slumped over on the couch watching the same movie you had put on a week and a half ago. “We have used tissues, a crying girl, and I now have the ability to quote Legally Blonde in my sleep.”

“There are less models than I thought there’d be.” Peter mumbled to himself.

Clint stepped out of his bedroom door, it sat by the kitchen, and clapped his hands, “Legally Blonde is a great movie. Excuse you.”

“Yeah, I agreed until about the 132nd hour of it.” Bucky said between clenched teeth. “We need to do something to stop this nonsense, and by we I mean you.” He turned to point at Peter. “You got us into this. You get us out.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

Bucky crossed his arms, “I don’t know. Crying girls aren’t my specialty.”

“And they’re mine??” Peter scoffed.

Clint shrugged, “We just assumed you make girls cry all the time. Plus, you’re like super tight with Gamora and Mantis, right? They’re girls.”

“What part of who Gamora is makes you think she cries at all?” Peter replied.

“Yeah, but Mantis seems like the type to tear up every other day at the least.” Bucky countered. Well, he wasn’t wrong. Mantis was empathetic to an extreme. He had just watched her cry at a commercial where a dog kept trying to hide a bone, but people kept digging it up. That didn’t mean he wanted this responsibility placed on him though.

Peter’s mouth fell open with a silent argument, but Bucky just glared at him and Clint’s attention was already focused in on the coffee pot. He grumbled under his breath and turned to stalk over to the living room couch where you were sprawled out sniffling.

“Heeeeey.” Peter dragged the word out as chirpily as he could.

You turned your face away from the screen to look at Peter who had just sat down by your feet. He gave you a sheepish smile and began to pat your ankle with his hand at an awkward pace. You assumed he was trying to bring you comfort, that’s probably what the whisper fight in the kitchen had been about, but it didn’t help.

“Hi.” You greeted before blowing your nose. Peter grimaced, but you just slowly sat up and pointed to the screen. “You wanna watch Legally Blonde with me?”

Peter shook his head, “No. No, I really don’t. I’d love to never see this movie ever again. Ever.“

“Sorry.” You deflated. “I know it’s annoying, but Legally Blonde is my breakup movie.”

“Right. I get that.” He paused. “Well, I really don’t actually because I don’t understand how this is your breakup movie.”

You stuck your lower lip out into a pout, “Elle Woods is a strong independent woman who needs no man.”

“Mhmm, okay.” Peter reached out for the remote and paused the TV, “Here’s the thing though. This isn’t going to make you feel better. What we need to do is go out and find you a rebound.”

You shook your head, “I don’t know if I’m ready for a rebound.”

“You’re so ready for a rebound. Sex with strangers fixes everything.”

“I don’t know…” You replied skeptically. For the past three years, you had only been with one guy. In fact, you had mentally already established that he would be the only guy you’d be with for the rest of your life. He had been your future. The thought of going out and trying to find someone new was… daunting. It also sounded a little impossible. Did you even remember how to flirt with a stranger? You grimaced, “I don’t even think I know how—”

“That’s what we’re for!” Peter gave you a broad grin, “You’re coming out with us tonight and we are going to find you someone new.”

“Really?”

Peter nodded and set his hand on your shoulder, “Absolutely. We are going to get you some good, after breakup sex.” He smirked. “Even if I have to knuckle down and get in there myself—”

“Jar!” Bucky and Clint yelled from the kitchen.

Peter cursed under his breath and moved to put money in the jar designed for him. His words hadn’t even fazed you, your time here had gotten you used to some of the things Peter said. He was a really good guy who sometimes slipped into a douchebag headspace. All the guys here were good guys. Clint was a disaster, you found him sitting on the dining room table at 2 AM once chugging coffee from the actual pot and he still used a flip phone for some odd reason, but he was also sweetheart that would sit on the couch with you at some odd time in the morning to watch your comfort movie. Sam seemed the more responsible one in the loft, when he wasn’t trying to one up or mock Bucky, and he reminded you of a caring older brother. Especially when he made you breakfast last week before the two of you left for work and talked to you about one of his worse breakups. Then there was Bucky. Bucky was… well, he was grumpy for lack of a more accurate word. He was kind of like a 100-year-old trapped inside a 26-year-old’s body. You hadn’t gotten to spend much time with him yet but you knew he meant well. He was protective of the loft group.

You sunk in your seat and rolled the thought of going out around your head. The idea of finding someone new was terrifying, but you couldn’t sit on this couch and cry forever. Plus, the boys would be there to make sure you didn’t cave in on yourself. Peter had said so himself. Fortune favored the bold, right?

You shifted in the booth and tried to readjust the dress you had put on. It felt weird to be in something that wasn’t your pajamas or your work clothes. The bar was crowded, unsurprising on a Friday night, and the atmosphere was comfortable. You hadn’t really found a bar in the city that you liked enough to frequent, but this one was actually kind of nice. It was kind of a mess, not in a super great area of the city, and some would probably use the word ‘sketchy’ or ‘ancient’ or ‘weird, carpeted drinking hole in the wall’ to describe it, but you liked it. This was the bar where Bucky worked and somehow that made sense to you.

“You look great, stop fidgeting.” Peter said from beside you. Sam, on his other side, nodded in agreement and you gave the boys a small smile. It did kind of feel nice to clean up again. “Here comes Buck.”

You glanced over to see your roommate make his way toward the booth with drinks in his hands. Bucky wore jeans with a long sleeve t-shirt and a short sleeve one on top of that. His sleeves were rolled up though and he had a rag thrown over his shoulder casually. “Alright, here.” Bucky set the two beer bottles he was carrying in one hand onto the table in front of Peter and Sam then set a glass of wine in front of you. It was the same as the type you drank at home. “You coach her into finding a winner yet, Quill?”

“I don’t like your tone.” Peter replied then took a swig of his beer. Bucky chuckled once, shook his head, then wandered back to the bar. Peter turned to you, “Alright. Rules of the night. You will speak in short sentences, you will not mention anything about your ex, unless you’re talking about rebound sex, and you will be going home with a date at the very least or my name isn’t Star Lord.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and scoffed, “Your name isn’t Star Lord, dumbass.”

“Stage name, Sam. Jesus. How many times do I have to have this conversation with you people?”

“Okay.” You ignored the argument between them that you definitely had heard before and looked around the bar. There was a cute guy leaning against a pillar talking to some of his friends. He wasn’t half bad. “He’s kind of cute.”

Peter focused back on you, “Go get him, tiger.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Go…talk to him?? Like where he can hear me?”

“Him hearing you is an important part yes.”

Your hand tightened around your glass. Sam cleared his throat and motioned to you with his bottle, “You don’t have to do this. As the self-appointed voice of reason, I think I’m supposed to suggest waiting until you’re ready.”

“Waiting ‘til you’re ready is for pussies.” Peter said.

“Jar.” Sam snapped his gaze to him.

“We aren’t even in the loft! There’s no bar jar!”

You didn’t want to wait. You wanted to be over your shitty ex-boyfriend and if this was how you had to do it then so be it. Without waiting, you threw back half the wine in your glass, Peter and Sam both made noises of surprise, then you stood up and pointed at them, “Rebound sex, bitches.”

Peter and Sam both chuckled and you whipped around to go talk to the cute guy. You could do this. You could do this. You were a fucking catch, and any guy would be lucky to have you. Obviously, your ex didn’t think that when he cheated on you. Apparently, you weren’t good enough for him—no! No, bad thoughts. Just flirty thoughts. You could do this damn it.

Could you do this??

Bucky poured another drink, delivered it, then moved to wipe the bar of any spills. When he looked back up, both Sam and Peter were sitting at the bar in front of him. Clint was at work tonight, which meant they had no idea where he was, but that was the norm for them. Peter leaned onto the bar and clasped his hands together.

“Bucky, I need you to get us into the Stark party.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Bucky replied. Peter gave him a hard look and he rolled his eyes in response, “I am not calling my ex-girlfriend to get you into this dumb party—”

“We go every year! You can’t take this from me. The theme is wild wild west. Do you know how cute of an outlaw I make? We have to go.”

Bucky shook his head, “I am not calling Elektra.”

“Why?” Sam raised an eyebrow at him, “You call her drunk all the time.”

“I do not.” Bucky glared at him.

“You literally called her drunk three days ago.” Peter said. “Now please—”

Bucky shook his head again, “No. I’m not gonna do it.”

“I thought you loved me!”

“Well, like always, you were wrong.” Bucky replied dryly. He glanced around the bar, “Where is little miss rebound sex? Did you idiots leave her alone?”

“She’s fine. She’s picking up a dude right now.” Peter pointed behind him. Bucky leaned to the side to look past his giant head and spotted you leaning against the wall talking to some random guy. From the looks of it you were talking very, very fast, maybe not even breathing, and your hands were flying around as you told whatever story you were telling.Your hand caught the edge of his drink and it spilled back on the dude. Bucky grimaced, Sam flinched, and Peter groaned. “Okay. Maybe she’s not picking up a dude right now.”

Bucky pointed in your direction, “That was painful to watch. Go save her.”

“She’s a big girl. She’s just gotta…brush off the cobwebs. Get back in the groove.” Peter argued.

Sam took a big sip of his beer then set it down and stood, “I’ll go get her.”

“Thank you.” Bucky replied and went to serve another customer. When he came back, Peter was giving him a pleading look that bordered on pathetic and pitiful. “Quill, I said no.”

Peter grumbled, “I can’t believe you’d betray me like this.��

“—and I think it was going okay until I spilled his drink.” You said as Sam motioned for you to take what had been his seat. All three men shook their heads at you, and you groaned in defeat before setting your head down at the bar. God, you were so out of practice.

Peter and Sam said you needed a break and they peeled away to talk to some other friends while you moped at the bar. This was the place for it after all. Someone cleared their throat, and when you looked up Bucky was still in front of you. He had placed a new wine glass by your resting head. You took it with a small smile, “Thanks.” He nodded his head once. You took a long sip then spoke, “Well I guess at the end of the day, I just can’t hide my crazy enough to pick up a guy anymore.”

“I really don’t think you’re trying that hard to hide it, doll.” Bucky shook his head.

You chuckled, “I’ve just…never been good at this.” Sad thoughts began to creep in again. Doubts that you’d ever find someone to put up with for another three years. You took another big sip of your drink and motioned to Bucky, “Well, at least I’m not alone.” He raised an eyebrow at you and you continued. “Just a couple of dumped losers, huh?”

“I’m fine.” Bucky argued with a shake of his head. “It’s been six months.”

“Do you know why she dumped you?”

He shrugged, “Doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Didn’t make a difference.” Bucky grabbed a glass to clear with his rag and gave you a tight lipped, awkward smile, “All I knew was that I wanted to set her trash cans on fire afterwards so…”

“You don’t wonder, like, what you could’ve done differently?” You asked, leaning onto the bar, “Racking your brain at night, wondering what’s wrong with you.” Bucky gave you a skeptical look and you forced another chuckle. “You know what happens when you keep all your emotions bottled up inside like you do?”

Bucky hummed, “What?”

“You become old, and bitter, and sad, and a little weird.”

“Who says I’m not already all of that?” Bucky scoffed.

You pointed at him, “You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen, Barnes.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment, his jaw locked, then he leaned forward with another smile that wasn’t quite a smile, “You’re right. Maybe I should just be more like you. Watching weird movies on repeat and burning through twelve boxes of tissues and talking about it with anyone who stands too close to me.”

“Yes!” You nodded with a smile, “Exactly! Let it out!”

“I’m trying to be mean to you.” Bucky replied. “I’m very obviously not going to do that.”

“Why not??” You asked.

Bucky gave you a deadpanned look, “Because I have a penis.”

You stared back at him for a moment before speaking in a deep, mocking, grumpy tone, “’My name is Bucky Barnes and I have a penis, blah, blah, and I won’t talk about my feelings, blah, blah’,” Bucky’s lips twitched up in the corner to form a smirk, “’And I wanna set trash cans on fire or something, blah.’”

Bucky glanced away, steeling his features, then looked back to you, “Doll, I watched you spill a $30 glass of whiskey on a guy.”

“Jesus, it cost him $30?? Who pays that much for a drink??” You pressed. Bucky tilted his head slightly and you cleared your throat and straightened your back as you spoke with dignity, “I mean, maybe that’s just one of my moves, Barnes.”

Bucky nodded, “Mhmm.”

You gave him a bright grin, but the conversation was interrupted when someone suddenly sat beside you. It was a curly haired guy that you had seen speaking with Peter earlier in the night. One of his friends who was also in a band of some kind or another. He leaned on the bar with a smirk, “Hey.”

“Hi.” You replied nervously, your eyes darted to Bucky who gave you a nod. Encouraged you introduced yourself.

The guy asked if you wanted to find a booth and you rose eagerly and followed his lead. Bucky watched you walk across the bar toward a back booth. He wasn’t crazy about any of Peter’s band friends. They were all assholes, and he was a bit hesitant to let you walk away with one. You suddenly turned and shot him a thumb’s up while mouthing, ‘oh yeah’. When you turned back to the guy, Bucky chuckled to himself with a shake of his head.

To be honest, he was surprised to see how okay you seemed to be. It had been a couple weeks since your boyfriend cheated on you and yet here you were trying to get back on the horse. It had been six months since him and Elektra broke up and he was still drunk dialing her.

Bucky reached under the bar to grab his phone and shot off a brief text asking if Elektra could get them into the Stark party. She was one of the assistants that worked there, and she usually got them in every year.

Ten minutes later, Peter and Sam circled back around, and both were surprised to see you in the corner booth talking to a guy. Peter nodded, “Damn, that’s Jonny. Look at her go. What a pull.”

“Jonny is a tool.” Sam replied.

“Yeah, but rebound sex is rebound sex.” Peter replied. Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Peter whipped around to face Bucky, “One last time. I am begging—”

Bucky interrupted him, “I already texted Elektra. She got us in.” Sam’s eyes widened in surprise before narrowing skeptically. Peter on the other hand let out a squeal of excitement and then lunged his top half over the bar to hug him. Bucky hugged back briefly, but as Peter pulled back, he felt a kiss on his shoulder. Bucky motioned to him, “Did you just kiss me on the arm?”

“Yes.” Peter replied unashamedly. “You deserve it.”

A couple more minutes passed before you ran over while Jonny left. All eyes shot to you and you pumped your fist in excitement, “Guess who has a date!” The men cheered for you and you gave Peter and Sam high fives. “Yeah, I just spoke in short sentences, didn’t wave my arms around, and then I told him I want rebound sex—”

Bucky’s eyes widened, “You what??”

“—and then he asked me out!” You jumped in place. “Tomorrow is date night!”

Peter shook his head and yanked your forward into a hug, “I’m so proud of you. Our little girl is all grown up.”

Jonny wasn’t your soulmate by any means, but a date was a date. This was a very good step in the right direction and you were beyond excited to move your thoughts away from your ex.

The loft was silent as five people sat in the living room staring at one another. Well, more accurately four men were staring at one gorgeous, red headed model. Natasha Romanoff sat in a recliner facing the couch while her best friend’s new roommates sat across from her staring—no, gawking.

She crossed her legs, “Do the shoes fit?”

From your in the back she heard a loud thud then you yelled back that you were alright. Natasha turned her attention back to the men in front of her. The one named Clint gave her a small nod, “You a model or something?”

“Yes.” She replied slowly. “Mostly print right now so…”

Peter, sitting between Bucky and Sam, sat forward, “You said it was Natasha?” She didn’t reply. He smirked and Bucky began to roll his eyes before words even left the blond’s mouth. “Tell me, what are your hopes and dreams?” Natasha narrowed her eyes at him. He shifted in his seat, “Are you—Are you warm? It’s a little—”

“Don’t.” Bucky said firmly, but Peter was already shrugging out of his shirt. “I said—”

Peter threw the shirt behind him, “I’m a little warm right now.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, “Please put your shirt back on. Don’t make me laugh at you.”

“Can i get you a drink? Coffee? Water? Some tea?” Peter questioned. Sam and Bucky were both just staring at him now while Clint just continued to gawk at her in stunned silence. Peter nodded, “Some tea bag action.”

Sam nodded, “There it is. Douchebag.”

“Got it.” Bucky reached over to grab the jar and slapped it into Peter’s chest making him yelp in pain while trying to dig out dollar bill from his jeans.

Natasha just watched the interaction and wondered what exactly you had gotten yourself into. The red head uncrossed her legs and leaned forward slightly, with a smile she knew was more menacing than charming, “Listen to me. That girl back there is my best friend. The greatest person to walk this planet. An angel.” She laced her fingers together while Bucky took the, now one dollar heavier, jar and placed it back on the shelf. “If you guys let anything happen to her, if you hurt her, I am going to come here and crazy murder you.”

The men all bobbed their heads in agreement. Sam respected the loyalty, Bucky was a little fearful because the woman definitely had eyes that screamed, ‘I’ve killed someone before’, Clint fell a little more in love, and Peter… well, Peter.

“I’m gonna be honest with you.” Their resident idiot started again. “I did not hear a word you said because I can kind of see your party hats right now through that dress.”

Bucky sighed, “There we go.” He leaned over to grab the jar and gave it back to Peter. “Just hold onto that until she leaves, yeah?”

Natasha called out for you and stood to seek you out. She distinctly heard Sam question why Peter was talking this way while she walked out. When she opened the first door on the right in the hallway she came face to face with you lying sprawled out on the floor wearing pajamas and her heels.

You sat up partially to see Natasha standing in the door staring at you quizzically. You gave her a tight smile, “Nat! I fell and I can’t get up. I think I live here now.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Natasha walked over and helped you sit up. “You okay?”

“No.” You groaned and buried your face into your hands, “I can’t go on a date. What if it’s horrible?? What if I have nothing to talk about??”

Natasha reached forward to grip your chin, “Then you go to the bathroom, you call me, and  I show up to rescue you.”

“Maybe I just shouldn’t go.” You mumbled. The excitement from last night had simmered as you sobered up and all day today your nerves just grew and grew and grew.

“Babe, you got hurt.” Natasha replied. “That doesn’t mean you stop trying.”

Natasha was right. She was always right. From the moment you met her in the 7th grade, you knew she was right. The red head been there for you through thick and thin and you had been there for her. It took several days to convince her not to actually murder your ex-boyfriend because you didn’t want to have to hang out with her in jail instead of your favorite coffee place.

She looped her arm through yours and dragged you into your closet to change. Fifteen minutes later, you were all dolled up and feeling confident. Your friend had a very good way of turning your mess into something special. Natasha was gorgeous, and an amazing model, but you always felt like her talents were wasted. She’d make such a good stylist or designer. You turned to her and gave her a tight lip smile, “Thanks, Nat. You’re the best.”

“I know.” She replied with a quick hug. “Now go knock your date dead and if he hurts you—”

“You’ll knock him dead. I know, I know.” You laughed.

Stark parties were known for being loud, crowded, and wild. The billionaire knew how to throw them that was for damn sure. For someone like Peter who thrived on huge crowds and large music, it was paradise. For someone like Bucky who liked day drinking in an uncrowded bar, this was kind of a nightmare. Still, his friends enjoyed it and he could usually have a good time as long as his friends did. Maybe he could be a little more like you and find a rebound himself.

The theme tonight was ‘Wild, Wild West’. Bucky wore his normal clothes, Sam wore his normal clothes, but with a cowboy hat, Clint had a bundle of rope wrapped around his torso which made him look more like a rock climber than a cowboy, and Peter was decked out in full outlaw costume.

“Oh, there she is. Go get us in.” Peter slapped his chest and Bucky shot him a glare.

Like Peter had said, his ex-girlfriend stood outside the doors by the line waiting for them. She looked great tonight. Elektra hadn’t dressed in costume. Instead she had on a tight, red mini dress with her dark hair pulled up into a long ponytail. Bucky swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and wandered over. His friends stayed a few steps back.

“El.” He greeted awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Bucky.” She beamed. “It’s nice to see you. I was happy to get a text from you while you were sober rather than a 3 AM drunk dial.”

Bucky waved off her words, “Drunk dial? No. You must be getting pranked or something. That wasn’t me.”

“I have caller ID, Buck.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Anyways, so the party?”

“Let me go talk to the bouncer and I’ll get you guys in.” She gave him a soft look, “Then maybe me and you can catch up?”

The logical side of him said that was a bad idea, but every single other side was thrilled. He nodded and watched her walk over to the bouncer. As he turned around to let the others know what was going on, some of Peter’s asshole buddies wandered up. The two loud men greeted them, and Bucky suddenly recognized one of them.

“You’re Jonny.”

“That’s me! What up, my man—”

Bucky demanded to know where you were. The others stiffened while all eyes shot to the curly haired man. “Did your date already end or did you bring her?”

Jonny shook his head, cowboy hat nearly falling off, “Who?”

Sam snapped your name at the man, then added, “The girl from last night.”

“Ohhh, yeah.” He laughed, “Look, I was just looking for a hook up. She was texting me all day long. Constantly. I didn’t want nothing to do with that.”

Clint crossed his arms, “And you told her this?”

“No. Why would I?”

“So, she’s just at the restaurant alone waiting for you?!” Sam cried out.

Jonny shrugged and Bucky had to physically resist the urge to punch the man. God, this was awful. Your had been so excited for the date. Your friend had gotten you all dressed up and now you were alone somewhere being stood up. Bucky shook his head, “Come on, guys. We gotta go.”

“But—But the party?” Peter motioned behind him.

“Pete.” Clint said. The outlaw of a man nodded once in agreement. Bucky glanced over his shoulder, spotting Elektra still talking to the bouncer, then sighed. You needed them and they didn’t leave a roommate behind.

You sat at the table, eating your third basket of bread, and wondering if your water glass was deep enough to drown yourself in. This was probably one of the more pathetic moments of your life. Stood up by a guy who played tambourine in whatever band he was in. Jonny hadn’t been your type, but a rebound was just about getting back on the bike, right? Well, you had jumped onto the bike only to immediately ride out into traffic and get hit by a semi.

The waitress began to make her way back to you and you couldn’t help but sink in your seat a little. Maybe she wouldn’t see you. The woman stopped in front of you and picked up the empty bread basket with a frown, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to ask you to give up the table now.”

“Can I get…one more bread basket?” You mumbled.

“No.”

You nodded in understanding and went to grab your purse. Before you could stand from your chair though, you heard yelling at the front and suddenly four familiar faces ran into the upscale restaurant. Sam was in a cowboy hat, Clint was carrying rope around his chest, and Peter was literally dressed like a space cowboy of some kind. Bucky looked like Bucky though. The four of them ran over to your table yelling that they were here and you laughed.

“We’re here. Sorry we’re late.” Bucky said to the waitress.

“You’re her date? All of you?”

Sam nodded, “Yes. We are her boyfriends.”

“One isn’t enough for her.” Clint shrugged. “We’re sister wives, but the male version.”

“Brother husbands?” Peter supplied.

You chuckled, but you could feel your eyes watering at the sight of them. Bucky leaned his hands on the chair in front of you and shook his head, “Doll, that guy was an asshole.” The other guys nodded and chimed in agreement. “He’s missing out.”

“You guys skipped your party to come and see me?”

“Course.” Bucky answered. “We care about you. We like you.”

Sam nodded and sat down at the chair to your left, “You’re family. Whether you like it or not.”

“I do like it.” You said, holding back tears. “I like it a lot.”

Peter dropped down into the chair on your right, “Besides, it’s Stark. He’ll always throw another party. It’s kind of what the guy is known for.”

Clint pulled a chair away from a table beside you, ignoring the glares from the couple sitting there, and brought it to the table to sit while Bucky took the chair he had his hands on. The guys picked up menus and began to look them over and you felt your chest swell in happiness. You didn’t think it was possible to be so happy considering how sad you had been just moments before. You liked these guys, and knowing they liked you enough to take care of you like this just made you so soft.

Bucky caught your eye, and he gave you a smile. Not a tense one, not an awkward one or a half grimace like you had seen, he gave you a real smile that made his entire face brighten. The kind that up until now you only saw the guys pull out of him. It made you feel like you belonged, “We got your back, doll.”

“Hey, guys.” Clint said slowly and looked up from his menu, “Yeah, I can only afford the tap water here.”

Sam flipped his menu over and his eyes widened, “Jesus, that’s excessive for a salad.”

You nodded, “It’s stupid expensive. That’s why I’ve only eaten the bread.”

“Alright,” Bucky tossed the menu onto the table, “Pizza at the loft?”

There was a chorus of agreements and everyone rose from the table. You stood and when Sam held one arm out to you, you didn’t hesitate to fold into his side for a hug. The boys walked you out of the restaurant while Clint told some story about his odd job yesterday and while the others laughed at his expense all you could do was bask in the warmth they radiated. You always thought the best part of the loft was the open floor plan, but as it turns out, the best part was the adopted family you accidentally fell into.

[bigtreefest]

I’m so happy for the attention, I swear I’m a whore for it, but sometimes I feel like a teacher on zoom where everyone else has their cameras off.

Either way, love y’all, hope you enjoy what I’ve put my heart into and are as excited as me for the ‘Outta Nowhere AU.’ It’ll be a good time🤗🤠

[buckysimp101]

Everything the Light Touches (18+) - Chapter Fifteen

Mafia!Bucky x F!Reader

chapter warnings: a lil tension, angst, language, threat of violence  (the threat is dark too tbh. And it’s the bold & italicized part btw)

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR Y’ALL! I figured we’d start 2023 off with a lovely little chapter of ETLT! I am so so sorry it has been so long since my last update but life has been crazy between work, my birthday, the holidays and trying to figure out where my family is living in the next month (we figured it out btw)! But craziness aside, thank you all for sticking with me! I hope this chapter tides you over for a bit!

Series Masterlist 

WARNING! WARNING! BRAIN EXPLOSION INCOMING. SELF DESTRUCT IN THREE…TWO…ONE! 

Bucky Barnes could not get his brain to calm down. Alarm bells were going off and he was barely able to pay attention to the words coming out of your mouth as you talked to his parents. You’d called him Jamie. For the first time in a decade. And while a small part of his brain was telling him that was a good thing and that it meant more than you’d let on, judging by the slight look of bewilderment in your eyes after speaking it, a small part of his brain couldn’t help but remind him that he 100% was not worthy of that nickname. At least not yet. It wasn’t long into that self-reflection that he managed to hear a throat clear from across the room that pulled him out of his thoughts. At some point you’d all taken seats and everyone was staring at him expectantly, Winnie and George’s faces equally concerned while you pinned him with a raised brow. He’d been so caught up in the revelation of you calling him Jamie that he’d completely zoned out of the conversation.

Way to go idiot, you definitely don’t deserve to be called Jamie. Look at you. You can’t even pay fucking attention.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts Bucky cleared his own throat and timidly spoke, “sorry, I missed that, what was the question?”

You huffed out a laugh that you covered with a cough, avoiding his eyes as George raised his brow in turn and began to speak.

“Y/N was just telling us how she was in on the plan to tell everyone at The Underworld, and that the two of you went on knowing what you were doing and that this was how you wanted to break the news to the city. I was just asking you, if that was true?”

Bucky’s eyes darted towards you and he noted the serious look in your eyes and the almost imperceptible nod of your head telling him to go with it, so he nodded his own and responded, “that’s right. We wanted to make a statement and we figured, well, we figured this was the best way.”

George looked at his son carefully with slightly squinted eyes as if he was trying to read Bucky’s mind but he must have been somewhat pleased with the answer because he sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair rubbing his head with his hand.

“Well, the two of you made a statement that’s for sure. I doubt that it will take very long before Pierce, Stinson and the L/N’s find out about it and want blood.”

Bucky noticed your breathing stutter and your eyes widen at the mention of your parents and he knew it was his turn to stick up for you. Bucky slid next to you on the couch and slowly slid his hand into yours, offering a light, almost testing, squeeze which you returned slowly alongside a deep exhale. Bucky knew that breath, it was your calming breath. All these years and some things never changed. Bucky turned to face you, making sure to look in your eyes as he spoke.

“I will not let them hurt you. They will never be able to hurt you again. You have my word. You have my life.” He placed extra emphasis on the last word, hoping you would understand that he meant everything he was saying with every fiber of his being. While he knew his actions from ten years ago made it seem like he didn’t care that wasn’t the case. James Buchanan Barnes would kill for you. And he would die for you. And he needed you to know that. He watched you take in his words, your eyes widening at his meaning and your throat bobbing with a gulp. Before you could say anything to the contrary or ask him to rethink his words he shook his head and added, “I fucked up all those years ago. I’ve spent the last ten years without you and being a massive dick. Your safety, your wellbeing, your life is worth at least ten of mine. And I will do everything in my power to protect you. Do you understand?”

He could have heard a pin drop in that space. You and Winnie had twin looks of disbelief and fear on your faces at the impact of his words. George, meanwhile, looked at his son with softened features, taking in the words he’d spoken and letting them sit as his eyes roved slowly over to you. All was silent for a moment, but that silence was broken by a soft chirp of a meow as Alpine jumped onto the couch in between you and Bucky and stretched out so her head was in your lap and her body was in Bucky’s. He noticed a soft smile grow on your lips as your attention was pulled to the pile of white fluff and he took a moment to sit in the silence that followed.

That was until George spoke again.

“As I mentioned, what you two did definitely made a statement,” his voice was softer this time as if he was preparing the two of you for what he was going to say next, “and while originally I said this wedding would happen by the end of the month your actions have…changed that plan slightly. We have to move it to the end of next week.”

Your head swiveled sharply from Bucky to George, your eyes bulging as your mouth opened as if to speak. But you seemed to think about it for a second and merely nodded your head solemnly, turning your attention back to Alpine as Bucky swore he saw you shake off a tear that had formed in your eye. Intense feelings of guilt washed over him.

Bucky had done this. It was Bucky’s fault the two of you were in this situation. If he’d used his brain years ago neither of you would be in this specific mess. Hell if Tony Stark hadn’t taken you under his wing when you went to California it’s likely you’d have been able to cut off your parents and never return to New York. A sinking feeling made Bucky shake himself out of his thoughts. It wouldn’t do any good to dwell on the past. He needed to act. And he needed to everything in his power to protect you.

“We understand,” Bucky spoke quietly, earning a soft nod from you in agreement and a soft ‘good’ from his father. At that, Winnie and George stood up, prepared to make their leave. His mother pressed a kiss on his cheek and wrapped him in a warm hug before doing the same to you, whispering something in your ear before making her way to the front door of his home. George was the last one out, looking over the two of you with a mix of fondness and pity in his eyes before turning to Bucky sharply.

“You take care of her.”

“I will,” Bucky responded quietly, lowering his head as a sign of deference to his boss, his father, and to his future wife. George nodded once more before pulling Bucky in for a hug and then doing the same to you. When the door to the apartment finally shut and Bucky locked up behind them he could hear sniffling from the living room. When he rounded the corner he found you curled up on the couch with Alpine snuggling in the crook of your legs, with tears streaming down your face. When you caught sight of him you rushed to wipe them away but Bucky merely sank down to his knees in front of you and wiped them away softly and reverently himself. 

Your breathing stuttered when Bucky’s hand first cupped your face but the hyperventilation and the sniffles calmed down after a moment. Neither of you said anything, just sat there staring at one another, his hand on your jaw and his gaze on yours, until Alpine nudged her head in between the two of you for more attention. You huffed out a laugh at the little hellion and leaned back ever so slightly to accommodate her, your action was rewarded by loud purrs. Bucky took that moment to speak.

“Why’d you lie for me? Why’d you…stick up for me. You could’ve just let them ream me out for my actions. I was stupid and I was…well I was jealous. I saw you dancing with Steve and Natasha…and I was trying to get this girl to leave me alone,” at the mention of another woman your eyes flashed with something Bucky couldn’t quite read so he continued, “and so I…well I just reacted. I wanted everyone in that club to know you’re mine. And that wasn’t my place. And now what I did may have just jeopardized this whole thing. So to reiterate my question, why?”

You looked at Bucky thoughtfully for a while, he could practically see the gears turning in your brain as you carefully chose your words before responding.

“It was the right thing to do. Even if I was upset initially with your actions, I don’t know if I would have ever been able to tell my parents that we were engaged or going to be married. And while yes, you did essentially force my hand with that announcement and that kiss,” your face faltered slightly at the mention of the quite public kiss he’d given you in The Underworld before shaking yourself out of your thoughts and continuing, “I genuinely think it would have been worse if they just… found out. So that’s why I stood up for you. That’s why I told your parents I was in on it. That’s my story, James.”

He nodded his head slowly, taking in the words you were saying and willing himself not to cringe as he noticed that you’d returned to calling him James again and not Jamie. You’re not worthy of that nickname. Not yet. He shook himself out of his thoughts and cleared his voice, “I appreciate that. I appreciate what you did. I don’t deserve your support.”

You watched him carefully before one side of your mouth quirked into a small smirk, “No. No you don’t. But you’re my only path to freedom and safety. And I quite like both of those things.”

It was Bucky’s turn to huff out a laugh as the tension in the room slowly waned. The two of you sat in silence a moment longer before you asked, “now what’s with this girl? A scorned lover? Side piece? Employee?” You practically wiggled your brows making Bucky laugh but he could see something simmering beneath the surface. His initial reaction was to respond suggestively but he decided against it, best not to poke the bear.

“Ah, Megan she’s…someone I’ve…well. She’s…” it was like he couldn’t find the words and Bucky swore he felt a blush creeping up the back of his neck. You must have noticed it as well because you threw your head back and cackled, startling Alpine.

“Oh this is hilarious, come on Barnes. You can tell me about Megannnnn,” oh that wasn’t a simmer behind your eyes anymore, that was a full on boil despite the fact that your tone was teasing. So Bucky approached the topic slowly, his words more clear this time.

“Megan and I have…messed around for quite a bit. I haven’t seen her since the night I first saw you again. Intentionally,” he added the last part with a firm voice before continuing, “and tonight I told her that I was getting married and she offered to be my mistress.” He spat out the last bit, the bitterness of the word singeing his tongue. “But I told her no. Absolutely not. And she…well she didn’t like that and started freaking out on me and that’s when I found you.”

Silence must have been the name of the game this evening because it draped itself comfortably around the two of you. It took a few minutes before you spoke in response.

“She’s not going to be a problem…is she?” You asked your question slowly as if insinuating multiple meanings in your question.

Bucky shook his head and responded, “No. That ship has sailed. Megan won’t bother us if she knows what’s good for her.”

You seemed to be somewhat okay with that answer as you gave Alpine a couple more scratches before stretching and standing up. “Okay. Well. Now that all of that is settled, I think it’s time to go to bed. I’ve got a lot of work to do if we’re getting married in a week,” the last part of the sentence ending in duel cringes from both of you before you turned to face him one last time.

“Good night, Bucky.”

As you turned around to go to your room his eyes softened and he whispered so softly, “good night, sweetheart.”

The weekend ended on a quiet note. Natasha came over to hang out with you and Bucky went over to hang out with Steve. Both of them were not shy about telling him how much of a fuck up he was. And he knew they were both justified in their statements. Bucky didn’t have the heart to tell Steve about the confrontation with you after his parents left, and he just drifted through the weekend in comfortable silence. 

And then Monday came. In the early hours of Monday morning Bucky received a phone call from Sam stating that he needed to get to one of their warehouses immediately. Flinging himself out of bed, Bucky hurried to put on clothes, grab a gun, and run to his car, throwing it into drive and zooming out into the streets of Manhattan. Bucky saw the smoke before he even arrived at the warehouse. It was one of their arms facilities. Or at least it had been. Now all that was left of it was a brick exterior, some ash and billowing smoke. The fire department was already there but Bucky’s father had them on his payroll. The fire chief came up to him and told him they believed it was arson, but luckily nobody was inside when the bomb exploded. Bucky told him to keep it quiet, the chief choosing that time to show Bucky an envelope that had been found in pristine condition not far from the scene, addressed to him.

Bucky stepped away and opened it slowly as he perused the contents, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the letter inside tightly. 

Barnes,

We know. All of Manhattan knows. We will have her. You cannot protect her and your family forever. There will be blood. And it will be hers. I cannot wait to mark her up. She’d look so nice with twin slashes on her cheeks. Blood spilling down her throat. Maybe he will let me get a nice look at her, all of her, before we punish her.

This is war.

-C.S.

Bucky had to take a number of breaths to calm himself down before reaching into his phone and dialing Natasha’s number as fast he could, practically barking at her to get to his apartment and not leave until he returned. He’d left you alone and after this letter he would not make that mistake again. 

Rushing through the formalities of covering up the warehouse explosion as a gas line leak, Bucky rushed home and practically flung open the door to find you sitting on the couch, bleary eyed with an on-alert Natasha pointing a gun at him. After realizing who was in front of her she put the gun down immediately and stepped aside, a silent way of showing him you were safe. Bucky let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as his hands went to his pocket, touching the edges of the letter folded up there. He wouldn’t let you see it. The threat alone was enough to make his stomach roil and he wasn’t about to show it to you. So he blew out a breath and took a step towards you, noting Alpine curled up in your grasp. 

“What is it Buck? Nat wouldn’t tell me but she just barged in here and woke me up…is everything okay? What’s wrong?” Your questions were slightly muddled with sleep but he could tell you were waking up more and more as your sentence continued.

He looked between the two of you, your eyes wide and fearful, Nat’s own questioning and boring a hole into him before he spoke, “we’re officially at war, Y/N. And it’s going to be my job to keep you safe. This I swear to you.”

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[zenaidamacrouras1]

“Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor, and like enough to consent."

Pursued by Bear

by: Zenaidamacrouras1

Chapter 1 of 4

Will be posting over the next few days. I did a thing. It's a Christmas miracle! It has a lot of Shakespeare quotes and is inspired by the tweet below.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Brave New World: Part 12

A/N: Trigger warnings for mentions of misogyny, sexism towards women, forceful confinement

It was the sharp cry that pierced the dark wing that had initially woken you up. It was a sharp and startling sound that broke you from your slumber, drawing you upright in your bed with a sudden jolt.

Immediately, you reached for the sides of your bed and curled your fingers in the sheets as a method to ground yourself. To hold yourself to the thin and old mattress, one with springs that were poking through your equally thin nightgown.

You have recently been thrown into a new yet seemingly endless, hellish environment. The move from a private room to the shared room was necessary to make space for another influx of omegas who had been brought to the facility.

Through the thin walls of the shared women’s ward you were thrown into, it was glaringly obvious that some pregnant omegas, used as surrogates and breeding machines, had given birth early.

There was an urgency to give birth before the due date, a necessity to try to save both mother and child from a fate that was unfair for both of them, however, the child would fare much better than she would.

“Shut up! Shut up!” One of the other omegas on this crowded floor raised her voice harshly, caring neither for the other woman in another room nor the consequences that would come to the poor mother.

You reacted quickly and threw the blankets off you, stumbling and falling to your hand and knees due to the process of them administering more drugs to your body. As your knees and hands had banged against the creaky wood, another sharp cry had been heard through the walls of this place.

Your weariness had made you crawl, initially, and as you traversed your way to the next rows of beds, that same woman screamed again, thrashing against the holds that kept her in place.

You could see her struggling, the latest douse of serum altering her brain chemistry and inducing temporary psychosis. Despite her aggression toward the mother and child in the birthing unit, you wished the other omega luck on getting past this debilitation. You knew full well that if she hadn’t recovered from this aftereffect, she would have been thrown into one of the many pleasure houses and used as a toy.

If she hadn’t recovered, she would be discarded as if she was nothing more than a heat receptacle for alphas.

“Please, you have to be quite. Please, if you don’t they’ll come down on all of us!”

There was a steady thud of her back against the bed as she violently rocked herself back and forth, creating her own despotism hold of her world as she saw it. She was so far in her head and in her madness created by this last bout of the serum, she hadn’t realized that rocking back and forth as violently as she had would create more hell for you all.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” She screamed three more times before another omega had risen to her feet, stumbling just as you had, and started toward the bed.

With the one omega woman behind dealt with, you felt secure enough to rise to your feet after reaching for one of the rails of the metal bed. Your hands gripped the end of the footboard, and you slowly pushed yourself to stand, your legs and feet aching to the point where it felt like they were burning.

Still, despite the aching in your bones, you pushed yourself further. You took every step cautiously, fearing that at any point one of the guards would come for you, for all of you, to deliver swift punishment. It wasn’t just you that would suffer for being out of bed, rather harsh consequences would come to every omega.

Even those that were sleeping.

“Shut that thing up!” there were hurried whispers in the room that followed an outburst, the direct order coming from the oldest omega in the room and focused on the woman in a mental break. “Shut her up, or we’ll all get it!”

You paid no mind to the order and focused on getting out of the room you were in, to head to the birthing ward. While you had known the door would be locked and access was denied to you and anyone else in the room, you also knew that one of the panels on the left-hand side of the wall was fabricated and easy to remove.

With the thinness of the walls and this falsified covering, you could easily slip from one room to another, and once you’d gotten to the other room you could help the omega who just gave birth. Or at least you could attempt to help, you could attempt to console her and her child, make an effort to extend what little kindness you could while being trapped here.

“I said shut her up!” The oldest omega yelled again, her voice carrying as you removed the panel and began to slip into the crawl space, keeping yourself as small as possible in order to make your way from one room to the other.

A shiver ran up your spine when your feet hit the other panel, the cold metal piercing your skin through the soles of your feet. The sensation was temporary, it had evaporated the moment you kicked the panel loose and managed to pull yourself through, coming into the other room.

You struggled to stand, a shake to your knees and thighs had almost made you tumble back to the floor, your hand already outstretched before you caught yourself.

The newborn was hastily wrapped in a thin blanket, squirming and still squawking with a great set of lungs that would have aided a career in entertainment further down their life. You had heard the omegas in the other room struggling to stop the maddened omega from raising too much of a complaint while this poor woman had just given birth.

Your approach was slow and calculated. You didn’t dare try to cause another sound to alert the betas and controlled alphas who ran this facility. You were already on their radar, already someone they wanted to study and watch, an omega who they had wanted to get rid of.

“Please,” she pleaded with you, simpering soft voice almost a wail, “they’ll take my baby. If they hear…”

The chirp of an alarm somewhere else in the facility prickled your skin, your stomach bubbling with unease and caution.

“Shh,” she rocked her child, her eyes wide and her lips parted with every attempt at quieting her child, “please…please-!”

“You’re a breeder,” you already knew she was and yet, it felt as if this reality was just hitting you, “they’re supposed to be coming for you but-”

“— I gave birth early, without medication. Without-”

Your heart nearly leapt from your chest as another bang had resounded somewhere in the building, a ghostly echo of something nefarious happening somewhere else. You stepped closer to her, hands shaking and your eyes growing wide in size, unable to truly think or react to what was going on around you.

Women, omegas, restrained to beds with what had once been softened cuffs but had now become rough, were lining the room from one end to the next. They were laying on nothing more than tufts of stuffing bound in thin canvas, a state that even cattle wouldn’t be permitted to lay on.

“They’ll take my baby, help me.” The omega was whimpering, and it wasn’t until now that you’d realized she was weakened by giving birth.

It hadn’t been until that moment that you’d even been aware that she was bleeding. The tang of copper hits your nose, mixing disgustingly with the smell of mildew and stale dust.

“You’re dying.” You crept closer and sank to your knees beside her bed, your hands curling against the cheap canvas bed. “You don’t have time.”

“Take my baby,” she turned to look at you, eyes losing their light and her breathing becoming shallow, “don’t let them have her. Don’t let her fall to the fate.”

“I can’t, don’t give her to me. I can’t take her. I can’t keep her, I can’t-” you stumbled over your words, fumbling as you tried to speak and make your case for not taking the child, for not taking the baby to be punished.

“Find someone, please promise me-” the babe was pushed into your arms, instincts leading you to cradle the child, and with a purpose thrust upon you, you rose to your feet and balanced tenderly.

“Thank you, Y/N. You,” the omega heaved, desperately fighting for breath, “you’re my family…my sister-”

Hours bled into days, and days had shifted into the next week.

While your heat had come and gone, while you had been marked and mated, you had never let go of the expectation that you would become pregnant. It was what you had been altered to do, to become a vessel for pups to boost the population that was faltering.

Whether it was this reality or the one you had escaped from, the result was the same. Your body and your DNA, your every genome, was geared toward fertility and pregnancy.

Even now, you could feel it.

Even now, only a week after you had been marked and mated, you knew your body was flush with life. You had narily placed your hand upon your belly, still unaffected by your growing child, and knew you were expecting.

If it hadn’t been the nesting you had done when you expressed your anxiety about being a mother, to the empathy of your mates, then this would have been every indication that it had happened.

Your stomach turned once, just once, and your sense of smell had increased with the changes in your body, and you knew. It was obvious, it was painstakingly clear that you were now doing what they had always intended you to do, only now it was by your choice.

Now, you have the decision to keep the child while in a safe and loving environment.

It’s the soft rapping on the door that audibly announces their presence on the other side of the door, but it’s hardly the first indicator that they were going to find you. With your new heightened senses, already increased from the serum before you were pregnant, you already knew.

It was their scent that carried, it was the sounds they made as they walked around and throughout the cabin. It was the soft mumbling of Bucky as he reiterated his annoyance and temporarily forgetting where he put things, and Steve whispering to himself as he sketched or painted.

You could hear it all; you could smell every shifting difference in the cabin.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Steve was the first to speak, the first to come and sit beside you.

You had negated to look at him immediately. Instead, you curled tighter on the outdoor chaise, tucking the blanket you took up and under your feet. You pressed yourself against the back of the lounger before you tucked your chin into your chest, and then you spoke.

“I’ve been thinking. A lot.” You spoke to them, addressing Steve verbally, and Bucky physically.

“Are you okay?” Steve was on your right, Bucky was on your left, both had been figuratively shielding you from a nonexistent threat. “Omega-“

“I’m pregnant.” Stagnant silence, unwavering quietude and the bubbling intensifying gleam of hopefulness and want had clashed in the middle, as if two beasts had represented the two sides of an emotional state of mind, with teeth and claws.

“Y/N,” Bucky crept in, a smile bursting on his face with eyes wide and vibrantly pulsing, “omega…this is everything we’ve ever wanted, this…”

Their happiness was unbounded. Their dreams of becoming fathers and having an omega was finally and wholly a completed reality. Puzzle pieces that hadn’t been set had finally clicked into place, with everything they’d wished and longed for becoming theirs.

There was a short time between you three wherein Bucky and Steve had let their raw emotions out to air, their happiness and loving statements settling upon you like the warmth of the sun and the soft breeze of summer.

It was further removing the corrupted chill you felt had been running through your veins, extinguishing the final clutch the organization, that wanted to make you a possession, had on you.

With Steve and Bucky, you were freed. Your baby was safe, your baby would grow up happy and healthy in a world that cherished it.

And you.

“I want this, I’ve decided. I want this baby, but…” you bit down on your bottom lip, teeth digging into your flesh while your eyes had become instructed by fat tears. “You may want to get that.”

The phone rang clear through your ears, a sharp yet melodic chime breaking the conversation, and you waited with bated breath as Steve walked to his phone and picked up the call, eyes locked on you.

“Cap,” Sam’s voice hit your ears, and you knew, “we need you back here.”

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐑𝐮𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐩𝐡

You know Dasher and Dancer, Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid, and Donner and Blitzen, sure, but do you recall the most famous reindeer of all? Bucky.  It’s Bucky. 

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✰ Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✰ 2.8k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✰ Tooth rotting fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✰ Gotta thank @duckybarnes1917 for her help with this one. ✰ I based this idea on an event that I went to all throughout my childhood called the 'Toy Run', it was a biking event where local clubs would band together and deliver literally thousands of toys to kids in hospitals around where I live — will always be one of my fondest memories watching thousands of bikes ride past with toys and tinsel somehow attached.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✰ Merry Fuckin' Christmas — Masterlist

𝑶𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔, 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆; 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒓...

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Babe!” Bucky called, staring confusedly at the very spot in the garage where his helmet would normally sit, but it wasn’t there. And, to make matters worse, he was already dressed up - bells, whistles, and all. “Babe, c’mere!”

“What?” He heard you yell, the patter of your feet against the linoleum floor of the kitchen a welcome sound. The door swung open and you poked your head out, smiling widely at the sight of your tough President boyfriend decked out in tinsel and glitter - you also couldn't help but snigger at the baubles on his belt. “Where’s the fire?”

“My helmet.”

“What about it?” You inquired, the picture of absolute innocence. 

“Where is it?”

Bucky stared at you, almost exasperated at your little game, but you were not going to back down easily. “I dunno,” you answered, closing the door with your head bowed towards the floor - that smile would give it all away. 

“Sweetheart, I need my helmet, I have to head back so I can make sure those knuckleheads are ready,” Bucky said simply, his heavy boot jamming itself between the door and the threshold before it could completely close. “Please.”

“Since you asked me so nicely, Bucky,” you simpered, reaching out a hand to pull him forward by the lapels of his kutte. “Come with me.”

Bucky sighed and swung the door open, following close behind you until you reached the laundry room. “Why the fuck would my helmet be in here, doll?”

You could not help it, the laugh you had tried so hard to cage broke free and Bucky rolled his eyes. A loud creak sounded when the door swung open and Bucky stood there, frozen in place, at what lay before him. 

His helmet, a once pristine and shiny black, was brown. Brown. And there were fucking antlers sticking out from the sides, with a shiny red ball at the very front - a fucking nose.

“What the fuck?” Bucky breathed. “What the fuck have you done?”

If it weren’t for the creeping smile on Bucky’s face, you would have run for the hills in fear of how furious he would normally be. “You’re gonna be Rudolph,” you explained excitedly, carefully lifting the helmet from its mantle on the now brown newspaper. “For the kids. You’re the President, and you’re always in the lead, just like Rudolph!”

Bucky’s laugh echoed down the hallway, the joyous sound unrestrained by the shock that flooded his system only seconds ago. 

His arms, covered by the sleeves of his red henley and circled with tinsel, lifted you from the ground and you squealed. “Bucky!” He ignored you and pulled you close to his chest, while you held the helmet up and away from his crushing embrace. “Careful!”

Finally, after spinning you only once, Bucky set you down carefully on your feet and beamed at you, his smile brighter than the midday sun. “Thank you, you cheeky-”

You cut him off with a quick kiss and placed the helmet atop his head. “Hang on,” you muttered, and you stuck the tip of your tongue out in concentration while you pushed the helmet down onto his head, mindful of the antlers and shining nose. It slipped on with little resistance, and you buckled it in place with a broad grin of victory. 

“Are you done?” Bucky deadpanned, a faux look of annoyance now on his handsome features.

“No,” you said, and you pulled your phone from your pants pocket. Bucky widened his eyes and opened his mouth to protest. “Ah! This is for me,” you assured, and he pouted. “Only for me, I promise.”

“Fine, it does not leave your damn gallery,” Bucky conceded and you grinned again, holding your phone up and snapping the picture that you would of course never let see the light of day…

Much to your surprise, Bucky had let you spruce up his bike for the impromptu pageant, and in the Christmas spirit - you had not held back at all. The once black and gold Indian Scout now sat proud with red tinsel around the handlebars, gold baubles hung from the pannier, and - you couldn’t resist - a giant set of antlers attached on the inside of both mirrors. 

Bucky truly was the new Rudolph. A man that didn’t truly fit in, but he still led the way with conviction and a mettle not afforded to many other men. He was a leader - born to be at the head of the table, and the leader of his band of misfits. Just like Rudolph from the stories of your childhood. 

“You best get going, Rudolph,” you snickered, pushing Bucky backwards and out of the laundry room. “You’ve got a pack of misfits to lead, after all.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Bucky whispered, his breath fanning over your lips as he leant in close. “Don’t be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sergeant,” you whispered back, smiling as you pecked him on the lips and pushed at his shoulder. “Now go.”

Bucky walked to the front door and you smiled at the sound of the jingling bells and the rustle of tinsel. “Ride safe!” You called, and Bucky turned as he reached the door, a wide grin on his face as he threw you a salute. The door closed behind him and you sighed.

Time to get to work. 

Ten minutes later, you were in your car with the final touches for your idea packed away in boxes filling the trunk. It was a sunny day, perfect for the pageant slash cruise, if you discounted the chilly air and frost on the trees. Thank god the boys were somewhat sensible in wearing long sleeves and thermal wear. 

The clubhouse lot was packed with bikes, they were parked in two rows - Bucky’s was in front, and Steve’s Harley was right next to it, to which you had to do a double take after you parked your car in the corner. Steve, arguably the most festive bastard of the lot of them, had tricked his Harley out into looking like a snowman. 

“Oh my God,” you huffed, staring in awe at the placement and craftsmanship of making that work. You opened the car door, stepped out, and rushed over to his bike, your grin not fading in the slightest. “Stevie!” 

“Yeah, darlin’?” He answered, appearing out of thin air at your shoulder. 

You stared at him in shock and you chuckled. “This is impressive, Rogers,” you rushed, looking between his bike and Bucky’s, both their helmets hung carefully from the handlebars. “You two are the perfect pair!”

“Take that back, sweetheart,” a voice purred from behind you and you jumped in fright. 

“Bucky!” 

Steve doubled over with laughter and Bucky smirked, the cheeky glint in his eye bright in the morning sunlight. “Yes?”

“You fucking asshole,” you breathed, hand still pressed against your chest to calm the hammering of your heart. Bucky only laughed and shook his head. “Just for that, you can lug the boxes from the trunk,” you ordered, and Steve sniggered. 

“Yes, boss,” Bucky replied, rolling his eyes. He began to walk towards your car, but he paused and turned to face you once again. “Why do we even need more?” 

You stared at him, your steely gaze penetrated past his tough exterior down to his very core until he held his hands up in an act of placation and surrender. “Because I fucking said so,” your tone left no room for argument and Steve howled with laughter beside you. Bucky dropped his shoulders and pouted like he was a toddler having a tantrum. “Do as you’re told.”

Something flashed across Bucky’s eyes before you could discern what it was, and you raised a brow in challenge. Without any further protest, he turned back around and popped the trunk of your car, and Steve walked forward to help. 

A few of the boxes held even more tinsel, while the others held toys of all kinds; soft and fluffy teddy bears, puzzles, crayons and paper, and, finally, a note of encouragement - all of which were for the children staying at the local hospital. 

A toy drive, a toy cruise - a perfect way to bring even a small amount of joy to their lives, even when they were stuck in hospital for the holidays. 

“Where do you want them, boss?” Bucky huffed, shuffling three of the boxes in his arms. 

You pointed towards the van parked at the back of the bikes. “Over there, please, I have to finish decorating the van as well.” Steve rolled his eyes at that and you tutted. “Can never be too festive, Rogers.”

Bucky chortled and started to walk towards the van, Steve following close behind. 

An hour later, the van was covered in tinsel in beautiful straight lines and festive shapes, thanks to Nat’s sharp eye - who had arrived just in time to save you from an exasperated Steve and his demand that, “there was enough fuckin’ tinsel.” 

“Thanks,” you said, smiling at your saviour while she glared at Steve. “There can never be enough tinsel.”

“Exactly,” she agreed. The passenger door opened with a creak and she threw her bag inside. You would be driving the van at the back of the pack, with a few other riders behind you. “I think it’s time we get going.”

Bucky walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. The tinsel on his sleeves tickled your palms as you placed them on his forearms. 

A loud whistle blasted from beside you and you looked over, Sam had appeared from the garage and he looked just as festive as everyone else with a green sweater. He looked like a Christmas tree with knitted baubles and lights wrapping around his chest and stomach, and his helmet had a sparkling yellow star on top. Classic.

Bucky felt the laugh rumble through your chest and you looked over at him when he squeezed your middle. “Look at that boy glow,” you whispered and Bucky snorted. 

“Listen up!” Sam yelled, and an unnatural hush fell over the crowd. You took the chance to look at all the men gathered - some were from neighbouring charters, others were from clubs you hadn’t even heard of. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us since we’re taking the main roads,” Sam continued, his sharp gaze meeting every eye with a warning glare. “We cannot afford to stir trouble, you stick to the law by the damn letter.”

There was a loud murmuring of agreement, and Bucky released you to stand tall next to Sam. You watched as his President facade cloaked his aura - a man who meant business, and he was not to be crossed, even over some damn toys. 

“Sam’s right,” Bucky said loudly, and another hush fell. You moved to stand next to Natasha and threw your arm over her shoulder. “I won’t tolerate any fuckin’ shit stirring,” he growled and the gathered men remained silent. “This is not the time to measure our dicks, this is not for any of us. There are gonna be kids lining the streets on the way there, this is for them, and I swear, if any of you ruin this,” he trailed off, a threat that he need not complete when all of the men gathered nodded in understanding. 

“All right, fellas,” Steve said, just as loud as Bucky. “Time to head out,” he pointed at a man with long hair, and a faded denim kutte. “Get your lot organised first, you’ll be trailing behind Sweets and Nat.” The man looked at you and smiled, you waved back happily. 

The group of men dispersed until it was just the 107th left. Of which, you noticed Peter was absent. 

“Where’s Peter?” You asked Bucky.

Bucky looked at you and gestured to the bikes, Peter’s Dyna was parked behind Sam’s. “I sent him out earlier to grab some,” he trailed off and glanced at Steve, who smirked. “Stuff.”

“Stuff?” You echoed. What?

A car engine roared down the street and Bucky smiled. “That’ll be him!” He grabbed your hand and pulled you along towards the front gates. 

“Bucky, what?” You rushed, almost jogging to keep up with his wide strides. Damn him and his long legs. “What did you do?”

The car in question pulled up to the curb and you gasped in shock. A giant reindeer teddy - it must have been almost five feet long - was stuffed into the back seat, and Peter, as happy as ever, bounded from the parked car with the biggest grin. “I got it, boss!” 

“That you did,” Bucky laughed, letting go of your hand so he could walk to the car and pull free the giant teddy. “Fuckin’ Christ,” he grunted as he tugged at the head of the toy. “How did you manage this, Peter?”

You laughed and Peter rolled his eyes, discreetly. “Because I’m a wizard,” Peter whispered and Bucky’s gaze shot up, a playful glare dancing across his features. Peter froze with fear and you rested a hand on his shoulder.

“There is no such thing,” another grunt as Bucky shuffled his feet to have better leverage. “As wizards!”

Peter laughed and jogged back to help, and you grinned. This was perfect. 

Before long, the reindeer was sitting - somehow - in the back of the van so its giant head was visible in the front seat, where the kids would see it. 

You grabbed Bucky’s arm as he stepped back from the van, and he turned to look at you. “Thank you, babe,” you whispered and leant in to kiss him, which he obliged, the smile never leaving his lips. 

“You’re welcome,” Bucky winked. “Now, we better get goin’,” he looked towards Steve and nodded and Steve whistled again. A symphony of bikes rumbling to life echoed in the lot and Bucky sighed happily. “Stay close,” he said. 

“Always,” you grinned. Bucky handed you his helmet and you helped him put it on, making sure the antlers and nose were still in place. “There we go.”

With a grin that left you breathless, Bucky turned and jogged to his bike amongst the maze of riders. You could still hear the bells and baubles of his outfit jangling over the chaos.

“C’mon, lovebird,” Natasha urged and you scowled playfully. The two of you got into the van and you turned the ignition with a bubbling excitement, all those kids, all those smiles - just for your boys. 

You watched as Bucky turned in his seat to look over his shoulder at all the riders. He raised an arm, three fingers extended, then two, then one, and he turned forward to lead the charge. Steve followed, and then all the others, the ornaments and decorations covering their bikes blowing in the wind from the momentum. 

“Let’s go make some kids happy,” you said, and Natasha whooped, reaching forward to turn the stereo up as the Christmas carols you had lined up in a playlist began. 

The boys rounded the corner to the main road of town, and they slowed to a crawl, the rumble and sputter of their bikes echoing off the buildings. You watched as the kids lining the road stood up, the smiles on their faces so wide and cheerful that you felt your own lips follow suit.

Happiness, joy, elation - it was contagious. 

Gleeful shouts sounded over the bikes as they rode closer and Bucky waved to the kids, the rest following suit. Natasha suddenly moved beside you and you turned to see her pull free two huge buckets of candy from the back. “Throw these to the kids!”

“Oh hell yes,” you gushed, adjusting your grip on the steering wheel so you could throw handfuls of candy into eager hands. 

Marvel Cafe came into view and you waved frantically at Carol, who was standing with her back to the road next to a group of parents. “Carol!” You shouted, and she turned just in time to see you approach. 

“Hey, girl!” Carol yelled back, waving enthusiastically. “Merry Christmas!”

Kids were following the van at a run, their smiles never faltering in size and one of them even caught up to Peter. “Hey little man!” Peter shouted, offering his hand for a high-five that the kid eagerly returned. 

The members of the 107th kept their bikes at a crawling speed until they reached the end of the road, where the kids fell back and waved and their parents walked up behind them, joining in the farewell. 

“It’s the only time they treat us with some decency,” you observed, and Natasha snorted.

“The community spirit is strong, at Christmas, anyway.”

You heard Bucky’s bike over the rest as it revved, and he started pulling away, the signal that it was time to hit the road. 

“I can’t wait!” You squealed, and Natasha laughed. “We’re going to make so many kids happy, Nat.”

“That we are, Sweets,” she sighed happily, and you could feel her gaze on the side of your head. “That we are.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[navybrat817]

Me: I can't start posting about a new AU until I catch up on my other-

*Sees an amazing edit for the new AU*

*opens a new doc* 😂🤣😭

[abbatoirablaze]

Deal With The Devil, Chapter 5

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: mentions of strip clubs, oral (M receiving), ball play, cheating, mentions of war/injury. 

“AND TO MY BESST MAN FOR PREPARING THE BEST BACHELOR PARTY EVER!” Steve yelled over the roar of the club’s music, “THE BACHELOR PARTY TO END ALL BACHELOR PARTIES!”

“AND HERE’S TO THE LUCKY GROOM!” Sam yelled, adding his own toast in, “MAY HE MARRY AND STILL CONTINUE TO GET ALL THE PUSSY HE WANTS ON THE SIDE WHILE HE RULES BROOKLYN WITH AN IRON FIST!”

Steve’s men cheered along to the best man’s toast, as they lifted their shots and downed their drinks. 

A few women giggled as they mingled with the party, their bodies writhing along with the music. 

“Ladies, I’m about to be ar-a married man!” Steve slurred as another woman slid against him and started grinding against him.  The blonde turned and pulled Steve in by the back of his neck, kissing him fast and hard. 

Steve tossed the bottle of whiskey down on the ground.  The glass broke and the liquid sprayed out around them as he gripped the mostly nude woman by the hips and kissed her back, allowing himself to get swept up in her body glitter and the smell of overly ripe cherries.

He broke the kiss only when a hand reached for the zipper on his pants. 

He was surprised to see another woman and he lifted his brow.

“Let us take care of you, bachelor boy!” the woman who was kissing him smiled, “gotta make sure we give you a night for that spank bank when your new little wife holds out…gotta remind you of the good old days of not being tide down before it happens.”

“You wanna go somewhere more private?” the girl with the hand on his zipper asked. 

He smiled and shook his head and the two girls grinned.  The first one unzipped his pants, and the second girl pushed him back onto one of the chairs. 

A few of Steve’s men began to cheer when they saw the women both getting on their knees. 

“GET IT, BOSS!”

“HELL YA!”

“SOMEONE GET ME ANOTHER BOTTLE!” Steve yelled over the roar of the strip club. 

He watched as the woman’s mouths sandwiched his hardened length, each of their tongues lapping up every bit of precum and running along his cock.

“That’s right!” Steve growled happily.  He spread his thighs a little more to allow the girls a little more room, and one of them reached up and cupped his balls, “you.  Suck em while she blows me.”

The girls looked at each other and giggled before following his instructions.

“You didn’t have to stay here with me you know,” she sighed as she gave Bucky yet another guilty look.  He continued to ignore her pathetic attempt at an apology, “James…”

“I’m not a partier!” he said simply with a shrug, “there’s too much booze and not enough level-headed people.  And anyways, someone had to stay behind and make sure you were safe.  You’re Steve’s fiancé.”

“It-it wasn’t my choice…” she frowned, “to keep you here, I mean…I-I know what it must look like, with the bookstore and you being the only one that couldn’t go out with his men, but I’m not that kind of person.  I-“

Bucky looked across the kitchen island at her and frowned, “we probably shouldn’t talk about that, Inez…”

“We-we’re going to have to eventually, don’t you think?” she asked softly.  He looked back away from her, and she made her way around the island.  She reached out and touched his flesh hand, “I-I mean…I met you at the bookstore first…and you know that I’m attracted to you.  That wasn’t a secret.  I left you my number in the cover of that book for a reason.”

“And now you’re about to be Steve’s wife, Inez…”

She frowned, and took a step back, creating some distance between the two of them.  Her hand slipped off of his, “I don’t care about Steve.  I know that you can see that.  It’s just a business arrangement that I had no choice in.  Whatever Tony and Steve-”  

He looked back up and his eyes met hers, “Inez…stop”

“I’m sorry…you-you’re right…you’re one of Steve’s men…I-I Just-“

She was cut off in an instant.  She felt the cool metal from Bucky’s prosthetic on one side of her face, and the warmth of his flesh hand on the other side. 

His lips were unbelievably soft against the smallest bit of stubble that prickled against her face.  She whimpered against his lips as fireworks went off in her mind.  Instinctively she leaned into him, and he spun the two of them until her back bumped against the counter. 

And then a knock at the door made the two of them split apart as though they’d been struck by lightning. 

Her throat felt dry as her eyes had snapped towards the direction of the door. 

Bucky stepped forward, his own instincts taking over as he innately put himself between her and the door.  She noticed him tensing up as one hand reached for the gun she knew was on his hip. 

“James…i-it’s probably just Pepper…” she reminded him, “remember?”

She saw him relax as he processed her words.   He turned back towards her, and she whimpered again, seeing how puffy his lips already were from the few simple moments of kissing him. 

“Y-you can’t make those kinds of sounds with me, doll.”

Another whimper left her throat at the pet name and she felt like she was going to swoon with the huskiness in his voice.  

“Then you can’t go kissing me the way that you did and be all super protective because it’s doing things to me, James…” she admitted, “and the way your voice sounds right now…you’re dangerous for me.”

He smirked for a second, before turning his attention to the door once more, when Pepper knocked yet again, “I-I suppose I should get that.  You get your snacks and I’ll let in your guest…for your bachelorette party…”

“Is it really a party if there’s only me and her watching a movie while you guard us?” she asked, “and does any of this really count if I don’t want to marry Steve in the first place?”

“Bucky, can you get me and Inez another drink?”

Bucky bit his lip and looked at her.  She nodded, “we’ll be fine, James…”

Pepper lifted her brow but said nothing.  She watched as Bucky made his way out of the home theater in the basement before she looked back at her sister-in-law, “what was that, Inez?”

“What?” she asked, “James?  He’s protecting me…”

“Looks like he’s protecting something,” she teasingly smiled, “I see the way he’s been looking at you all night…he likes you.”

A blush rose to her cheeks, and she shook her head, “Pepper, stop.”

“You know who he is…” she said slowly, “he’s one of the five family’s sons…His father ruled Staten Island before the Allfather took it from him.”

“Pepper…” she sighed, shaking her head, “I-I don’t want to go into it…”

“But that’s Bucky Barnes, Inez.”   She said quickly, “his family was the family that came to help mine…that’s why Tony helped him with the prosthetic.”

“What?”

“How much has Tony told you about the last war?” she asked, “the one where my family and the Barnes family fell?”

“Not much,” she shrugged, “only that Tony helped Peter fortify Queens…he tried to keep me away from everything after mom and dad were killed.  That was dad’s wish…to keep me away from the business.  You know I’ve never met anyone else from the other families before you and Peter.”

“Well, Bucky Barnes is the reason that I’m alive,” she admitted with a frown as she thought about everything that had happened, “Barton and his crew came in and tried to overthrow my father…Bucky’s dad was sick, but he gave all of his people to help…what he didn’t realize was that it was a ploy for the Allfather to overthrow him.  While Bucky was getting me to Tony, he left his father defenseless, and they killed him.  When he came back, Thor and his father had taken over.  They took Bucky’s arm and said they were going to keep his mom and sisters.  They dumped him on Tony’s door.  Tony made sure that he was patched up and taken care of, and got him the best medical treatment that was available because of his sacrifices…”

“James helped Tony?”

“He helped me,” she said with a simple smile, “Our fathers were close…so close that Bucky was supposed to marry me.  But he knew that I was in love with Tony…so when he saw his chance, he told his dad that he was going to protect me, when really, he was just getting me to Tony���Clint would have forced me to marry him as a way of legitimizing himself.”

“And he lost his arm because of it…”

“It was well worth it!” a voice said from the entrance.  Inez jumped and Bucky frowned as he made his way in with a few drinks.  He passed one to Pepper and sat the other one beside her.  Bucky gave Pepper a sad smile, “besides us having no real chemistry because we weren’t in love with each other and you were in love with Tony, you were too old for me anyways, Potts…”

Pepper laughed and sipped on her drink, “looks like you found someone better, Barnes.  You know, I think Tony would have liked to have you as a brother-in-law more than Rogers…”

“She’s marrying Steve!” he said solemnly, “her and I have had this discussion and we both know what is happening…despite our obvious attraction to one another.”

“Funny,” Pepper mused as she downed the drink, “your lips say that, but your eyes say something else entirely.”

“And what do my eyes say, Pepper?”

“That it’s far too late for me, and I should get home before Tony starts to worry,” she said smartly, ignoring the question from the cool and collected man.  She stood up and hugged Inez, who was quick to her feet, “you be safe, you understand me?  Things are about to get really messy in the boroughs when Thor and Clint find out that you’re marrying Steve…and Bucky?”

“Yeah, Pepper?”

“Take care of Inny…” she said softly as she brushed some of the ringlets away from her face, “and don’t lose your other arm in the process of protecting this damsel.”

Bucky nodded, and the pair started back towards the entrance so that they could see her out.  The three of them walked in relative silence, but Bucky stopped her when he noticed that none of Tony’s men were with her.

“What’s wrong, Barnes?”

“No Happy?”

She shook her head, “my husband knows where I am…”

“We shouldn’t let you go alone.”

“Don’t worry,” she smiled, pointing to the sky, “Tony’s got satellites everywhere, Barnes.  Chances are he’s been watching the house the whole night, and now that he sees the porch light on and me coming out, he’ll have Happy probably meeting me somewhere near-“

But before she could finish her sentence a car was pulling up the drive and beeping to let her know that he was there. 

Inez giggled. 

“What’s so funny?”

She pointed to Happy pulling around.  Bucky’s brow rose, “that was quick.”

“He probably had him lurking somewhere nearby, Barnes.”

“Just when you think the guy doesn’t give a damn….”

Pepper smiled as Happy got out and opened the backseat up for her, “my husband is many things, Bucky, but he cares far too much.  Ask Inny…he’s a big teddy bear for the people he loves.”

“Tell Tony I miss him?”

Pepper nodded and kissed her sister-in-law on the cheek, “I will…but call him.  He’s going insane from not hearing from you.  I think he might think you’re madder at him than you actually are.  And while I know that being hard-headed is a trademark Stark characteristic, you’re the more sensible of the two of you.”

She nodded, and Bucky instinctively wrapped his arm around Inez’ waist, pulling her close to his frame, while Pepper joined Happy in the car.  The two of them watched him drive back down the long path, before disappearing to the right. 

“You know…this feels right!” she admitted softly, looking over her shoulder and into his silvery eyes, “you and me…standing here…waving our guest off for the evening…”

“Inez…”

She bit her lip and nodded, pulling away from the man she had feelings for.  She chose to walk back into the house, and towards the grand staircase, “you’ll stay with me until Steve gets home, right?”

He nodded, “I’ll stay as long as you want me to, Inez…”

“What if I don’t want you to leave, James?” she asked, pausing at the bottom of the steps. 

He walked up to her, pausing when it was only the railing between the two of them.  He reached up and gently stroked her face, “we shouldn’t get any closer, Inez…I know you think you want to play this flirty little game, but it’s not a game to me.  I have some real feelings for you that developed in that bookstore.  And the path I walk never turns out good for those who try to walk it with me…”

“D-do you feel anything for me?” she asked softly, “I mean, you know that I-“

“I kissed you, Inez,” he recalled, cutting her off with a chuckle and a nod, “I think if anything’s safe to say, it’s that I do have feelings for you too.  But you’re supposed to marry Steve…”

“You were supposed to marry Pepper,” she reminded him as she leaned towards his face, “What if I am supposed to end up with you?  What if-”

Bucky felt his heart hammering in his chest.  He was tempted to give in to her kiss, but at the last second he turned away, “Inez…I-“

The two jumped away from one another as the door was nearly kicked open. 

Inez’ eyes went wide when her fiancé was surrounded by a gaggle of five women, all of whom were plastered beyond belief as they stumbled past them without so much as an acknowledgement. 

The two of them stood in silence as they heard the party going up the stairs and down the hall, undoubtedly to the master bedroom.  Music came blaring from down the hall and Bucky frowned when he heard the over exaggerated moans from women starting up. 

“Looks like he wants this marriage as much as I do…” she said thoughtfully, giving him another longing glance, James…I-“

“I’m sorry, Inez…I should go!” he apologized as he quickly made his way out the door, knowing that if he stayed, he was going to take her future vows as seriously as her fiancé upstairs, by fucking her brains out in the entryway.

Chapter 6

Tag List:  @teambarnes72, @prokey16, @lohnes16

[textsfromtheavengers]