#the look in bucky's eyes in that last one

[bucks-babe]

Change My Ways For You

Pairing: College!Fuckboy!Bucky x college!fem!reader

Summary: One of the only girls in school that didn’t want Bucky Barnes was somehow the one he fell in love with

Warnings: Smut, fluff, reader doesn’t take any of Bucky’s shit, himbo!Bucky, Bucky being a fuckboy,a bit of forced proximity, small part where Bucky is fucking someone else (ew), pinning, Bucky proving himself to be a sweet boy, non consentual kissing, Bucky being tooth rottingly sweet, Bucky calling reader sweets sweetheart and sweetcheeks, Steve is a dick (sorry not sorry), PROTECTED p in v (they are responsible in this one), fingering, fluffy smut, dirty talk, cockwarming?, so much praise, talk about STDs, delayed aftercare, talk about no aftercare, Bucky learns about aftercare so all is good

Word Count: 14.6k This is a long one

A/N: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading and helping with the direction; however, any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. This fic is the most adorable and full of emotions. The angst, the fluff, the feelings and especially Bucky. The way they act around one another — it’s absolutely great and definitely a read worth it!

“I have to admit, some of your grades in this class are less than I expected. Some of you have excelled in my class, but there are quite a few students to which their performance, to put it nicely, has been subpar.” A few students in the room look around, trying to see who looks guilty of having shit grades. You couldn’t care less; you know your grades are great so it’s not your problem if someone else is failing. 

All you want to do is get out of class and go back to your dorm to sleep, having stayed up way too late to finish a research paper for a different class. Your professor walks back over to his desk and leans back on it, sighing and taking off his glasses to wipe them on his sweater. 

“Now, while I understand that this course is not for the faint of heart, I still expect all of you to put in effort, and based on these,” he holds up the essays that were due last week, “I can tell that some of you just don’t care. Not even mentioning those of you who didn’t turn in your paper.”

You hear a scoff a few rows behind you and you know it’s Bucky Barnes without having to turn your head. He is the resident fuckboy, not caring about school or his education, just going to parties and fucking every living thing in sight. Sometimes you think that the only reason he is even in college is to have the “college experience” of “being free and having a bit of fun.” 

He’s never turned your head, rather just been a thorn in your side three times a week when you go to class, always joking with his friends next to him or talking about his latest trist. You don’t want to hear about how loud a random girl screamed when she came on his cock. You were here to get your degree and finally move out of this shitty town you were stuck in.

Honestly, you doubt that Bucky was even giving anyone orgasms. In your experience, men who brag about how good they were in bed were nothing but a disappointment, giving you about 30 seconds of mediocre sex until they came inside a condom and rolled over only to ask you, “did you cum?” The answer was always no. You didn’t have the patience to stroke any man’s ego when they couldn’t even make you wet. 

Bucky did nothing but make you roll your eyes, annoyed by the absolute gall of himself. “Now, because I don’t want my class average to go down because of a few dumbasses, I have sent some of you an email to meet me in my office after hours in which I will pair you up with another student in hopes that it will give you a kick in the ass since I cannot be bothered to spend more time teaching you.” You like your professor, you really do. He was one of the chillest professors you’ve had, but a twinge of fear goes through you. You fucking hope that he doesn’t pick you to help another student, especially Bucky.

You hang on to the sliver of hope that he won’t pick you. He knows that you’re busy, right? Between work and school you don’t have any time to tutor anyone. The topic stays on your mind long after you leave class, delaying looking at your email just in case he picked you to help another student. 

As the hours went by, however, you knew that you had to check it. You cursed when your laptop had battery; if it didn’t, it would have given you an excuse to not show up if you were picked. Nonetheless, you opened your school email, only to find out that you had been picked and you needed to go down to your professors office in a half hour.

Getting dressed, you had the most intense scowl on your face. This was the last thing you needed added onto your plate. You only hoped that he would pair you up with someone who didn’t need that much help, but you were proven wrong when you walked in only to find Bucky sitting down looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

“Take a seat, please.” You huff and sit down, moving your body away from Bucky as much as you could. You didn’t really feel comfortable around him. He’s never done anything to you per say, but you’ve seen his shameless flirting and it makes you uneasy and never want to be on the receiving end of it.

You don’t pay attention to anything your professor says, something about helping Bucky over the next few months until he’s passing or fails out of the course. You’re too lost in thought to care. On top of everything you have going on, now you have to help the one person you can’t stand.

Your professor dismisses the both of you with instructions to meet at least twice a week to study together. Bucky walks out before you and you assume that he has sprinted away to go to another party given that it was late afternoon, but you find him right outside the door. 

“So, sweetcheeks, I guess you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me now.” His eyes run up and down your body, like this was the first time he’s seen you. It makes you shift and wrap your arms around your middle, trying to soothe yourself. Bucky clearly takes this the wrong way and thinks that you like his hungry eyes and steps closer to you. “How about I give you my number and we can meet up, ya know, to study? Or if you ever need something, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

You don’t want to give him your phone, thinking about where his hands have been. Ever since his step closer to you, you can smell the scent of sex on him. If you look closer at his beard you can see the glisten on it, most likely from some girl he ate out right before he came to the meeting. 

“Just tell me your number, James so we can get this over with. I don’t want to help you and you don’t want my help. Clearly you don’t give a shit about this class and you only want to get in my pants.” He raises his eyebrows at your tone, a little shocked that you spoke to him like that. Before he opens his mouth you continue, “I mean, look at you. You’re flirting with me when I can fucking see that someone’s pussy was on your face, and that makes you think that I want to have sex with you?”

He opens his mouth one more time but you aren’t finished, finally able to snap at him for all the times he’s pissed you off. “I’m not going to be one of the girls you add to your roster so you can get that idea out of your head right now. The only time I am going to interact with you is when I have to, okay? Now give me your number so I can go back to my dorm and fucking sleep.”

Bucky is shocked, not having anyone talk to him like that. It pisses him off that you rejected him. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but he has time to change your mind. He can’t lie, your sass was making his pants tighter, but he relents and gives you his number before you walk away while he watches your ass, palming his dick through his pants. 

He needs to relieve the pressure in his groin and he’s sure as hell you’re not going to help him and his hand is nowhere near good as a pussy, so he goes out to Steve’s party, knowing that he can get a girl in minutes.

“Fuck, yeah baby, that pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock. Shit, love that ass too, you gonna let me fuck it? Yeah, I bet you fucking would too.” Bucky doesn’t know how the two of them ended up in the bathroom, fucking each other’s brains out, but he’s not complaining. When she offered to get on her knees and suck his cock he pulled her into the nearest room, cumming on her face before pushing her into the mirror, smearing her makeup and his cum all over the mirror.

The slam of his hips was brutal, surely going to leave bruises on her hips but he didn’t care, as long as she wasn’t complaining, he would do whatever he wanted with her, fucking her like she was a slut. “Fuck, baby, gonna make me fucking cum. Pussy is so fucking tight.” He lets a groan out, close to cumming. 

 Usually he didn’t make much noise during sex other than dirty talk, only breathing heavily and groaning when he was about to cum, but he was always composed. Sex felt great, but he never felt the need to moan. He never understood why men would moan like a slut just over some pussy, and he doubted that he would ever embarrass himself like that during sex.

“Love the way that ass bounces, so fucking hot.” This was the way Bucky fucked - from behind watching the girl’s ass jiggle. He wasn’t one to fuck any other way. Bucky didn’t give a shit to watch her face or look into her eyes, he just wanted to cum as fast as possible so he could move on with the rest of his day. He thought missionary was quite possibly the most boring position ever created, not like he ever made it to a bed anyway.

“Shit, gonna take my cum, bitch? Yeah, you fucking are, just a little fucking cumdump for me, letting me fuck you in a dirty bathroom, too horny for my fat cock.” He was babbling, just wanting to cum so he could go back out to the party and have another drink, maybe even pick another girl up for later.

Bucky lets out a low groan, filling up the condom with his cum. Once his orgasm is finished, he pulls out, taking the rubber off and throwing it away. Pulling his pants back up, the girl turns around, clearly affronted. “I didn’t even cum, baby.” Her voice was high and annoying, making Bucky roll his eyes. 

“Sorry, but your pussy made me bust early.” He chuckles knowing damn well that it was a lie. He just couldn’t be bothered to make her cum. Why would he put in the extra work to make her cum when he was just having fun? If she wanted to cum so bad she could have handled it herself. He wasn’t stopping her from using her own hands. Bucky either ate a girl out until she came to get her nice and wet if he was feeling generous that day or left her to her own devices while he took his own pleasure from her body.

She blushes, “oh, thanks, that’s sweet of you.” Bucky just wants to get the fuck back to the party and she’s talking too fucking much. “Maybe we can do this again.”

He can hear how hopeful she is and he felt just a little bit bad so he decided to humor her. “Sure, Sherry, whenever I’m free. You know college life and all, working hard in classes every day. Gotta keep up that 4.0 GPA.” As he heads for the door, he hears her squeak out, It’s Sally!

The next day is when you’re supposed to meet Bucky in the library to study, but it’s been a half hour and he still hasn’t shown. You decide to study what you need to. If Bucky wanted to fail you weren’t going to go out of your way to help him. You weren’t his mother; he was a grown man and he was responsible for himself. 

Nearly an hour later, Bucky stumbles in, clearly reaping the effects of the alcohol binge he must have been on the night before. It was no wonder  why he was failing his classes. When he sees you, a smile graces his lips, trying to make you forget that he was more than fashionably late. “Heeyyyy, sweetcheeks. You been waitin’ on me long?” The closer he gets the more you can smell the musk of sex and alcohol.

“James, are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” You know he is and you fight the urge to turn your nose up at the offensive smell coming off him.

“Huh? Oh, shit, I am. Well would ya’ look at that?” He laughs before plopping down in the seat next to you, his smell even worse than before. He tries to give you what you assume is a sexy look, but he just looks like he just awoke out of a coma. “How about you help me change them then, sweetcheeks? Maybe even give me a good scrub, make sure I’m real clean? Oh, and sweets, call me Bucky since we’re gonna get real close.”

There is no way that he is trying to have sex with you when his stink is filling up the entire section of the library. Anger bubbles up in your chest. You were here to help him and he is taking this whole thing like a joke. “I don’t have time for this, James. Unlike you, I actually care about my grades and don’t think with what’s in my pants.”

As you go to walk away, Bucky tries to grab your wrist, wanting to mess with you some more, but his motor skills haven’t come back yet and he was too slow. “C’mon, sweetheart, I was just messin’ with ya’, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Bucky holds his tongue about wanting to sniff your panties, not wanting to antagonize you further, but you just keep storming away and soon enough you’re out of Bucky’s sight.

Bucky huffs, annoyed that you walked away from him. Not because he actually wanted to talk to you, no of course not, it’s because no one has ever walked away from him. He walks away from girls after he fucked them, not the other way around. Grabbing his shirt, he lifts it up to smell it, turning his head away when the stench hits him. “Damn, no wonder she fucking sprinted away from you, Barnes.” Bucky stands up, almost falling over when gets lightheaded, the effect of drinking all night with no food catching up to him.

He slowly makes his way back to his dorm to shower and get out of his grimy clothes, feeling it stick to his skin in the worst way possible. He realizes that he only gave you his number and you didn’t give him yours so he has no way of texting you to see when your next session is. Maybe he would have made it on time if you texted him. It wasn’t his fault he was late. Honestly, you should have reminded him since you are supposed to be helping him.

The next day Bucky sees you in class and luckily he doesn’t reek this time. Instead of sitting in his usual seat, he goes down a few rows and plops down next to you. “So, sweetheart, I don’t mean to question your teaching methods, but seems to me like you’re a pretty lackluster teacher, runnin’ out on me like that.” You slowly turn your head, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man. How dare he say anything about you when he showed an hour  late and proceeded to ogle you like a piece of meat?

“Excuse me? You wanna say that again, James? Because I don’t think I heard you right, because you better not have just said that I’m the problem.”

“I was just teasin’ ya, sweets. But if this is gonna work ya gotta help me a little bit. I mean, you’re the teacher and all.” You wanted to slap that smug smirk right off of his face.

“If this is going to work, James, then you need to try. I’m not going to pull my weight and yours so get that idea out of your head right now. I’ll be in the library at 4:30. If you’re so much as a minute late, I’ll tell the professor to get someone else to deal with you.” With that you got up and changed your seat, not wanting to be around him for another second. 

Bucky felt his pants tighten again. He really needs to do something about your attitude, like fuck it out of you. It wasn’t a lie that he found you attractive and the thought of bending you over your desk and watching your ass bounce made his cock even harder. Bucky was contemplating asking the girl next to him for a handjob but the thought of her hands around his cock didn’t seem as good as what he thought your hands would feel like.

So instead of that, Bucky moved his seat to the back of the room so he could jerk off. A man has needs after all and Bucky has never had to worry about someone taking care of his boners until now.

Bucky decides not to push his luck and he actually shows up to the library on time, sans all of his books, but at least he’s there. He sees you in the corner, hunched over your laptop, typing away. You look cute too, with your tongue slightly passed your lips in concentration and eyebrows pulled together. Reading glasses perched on your nose. His sweetheart was working hard. What the fuck, Barnes? Bucky is taken aback by his own thoughts. He has never looked at a girl like that, when none of his thoughts are about how many different ways he could fuck them.

You roll your eyes when you see that Bucky didn’t bring anything with him, just the air of arrogance that seems to follow him wherever he goes. “Would ya’ look at the time, sweets? I’m early. See I happen to take my education very seriously.” You swear, if you roll your eyes anymore because of this man, they’re going to be stuck in the back of your skull. 

“Yeah, yeah. What did the professor say you needed to work on?” You want to get straight to business. The faster you get this done the faster you can leave.

“Uh, well. I don’t exactly know what.” He tries to smile to soften the blow of his incompetence as he sits next to you, but you are almost vibrating in anger at how useless he is.

Huffing, you angrily click at your laptop, going to check the email your professor gave you, knowing that Bucky couldn’t be trusted to remember. “James, please tell me how your grade is a 13% and you’re still in college?” You had no idea that someone could have a grade that low and not be kicked out of the entire course.

“What! No way, let me see that.” You slide the laptop over to him, showing the proof of his negligence. “Well, damn, we have a lotta work to do then, sweetcheeks.” You ignore his comment and pull up his most recent essay, surprised that he turned it in at all, but not shocked to see how terribly he did.

“James, what did you even think this essay was about?”

“Uh, nature and care?” Your mouth drops open and you just stare at him for a minute, making him squirm under your gaze.

“James, this was an essay on Frankenstein, and you were supposed to analyze the difference between nature versus nurture. You wrote about the fucking trees!”

Bucky clearly didn’t understand the problem with his essay. “Yeah, that’s nature!”

“No, James. Nature as in how you are, like how you were born, not how you were raised. You were supposed to compare how Victor was nurtured all his life but was full of hate and spite, but the creature never had any care but he was benevolent until everyone who encountered him abhorred him!”

You were talking too fast and Bucky didn’t understand a word of what you said. You were using words that he had never heard of before. “So, you can fix it, right, sweets?” That same sly smile was on his lips. The look on your face was enough to make him backtrack. “Uh, so we can fix this right? You know, since we’re a team now.”

The resting bitch face you gave him had him shifting his eyes around the library, trying to avoid it. As soon as he did, however, he regretted his decision when his party hook up locked eyes with him. His eyes immediately went to your laptop, typing random words onto the document you pulled up, trying to seem busy.

“So, sweetcheeks, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. So Victor is a bitch and Frankenstein is cool.” The sound of your voice correcting him by calling the creature Frankenstein is drowned out by the shrill voice of his past trist.

“Hey, baby, haven’t seen you since that party. See you're working hard, keeping up that 4.0 I see.” She lets out a giggle and strokes his bicep. You raise an eyebrow but don’t say anything about his supposed GPA. You’re taking great pleasure in watching Bucky squirm, clearly not wanting anything to do with her now that he’s gotten his rocks off. 

“And who is this? I bet my smart baby is helping her study, right? That’s so sweet of you to help out, really. Not everyone would want to help the ugly girl.” You wheeled your head back, about to bite her head off for daring to say shit about your looks when the foundation on her face was three shades lighter than her chest that was almost spilling out of her way too small top. Now you were never one to judge, but if someone comes for your looks, you come right back at them.

Before you got the chance to tear her a new one, Bucky interjected. “Ya’ know me, always helping out where I can, even those less fortunate than me.” His eyes were glued to her chest and you doubted that he even knew what she said to begin with. “Listen, Sandy, how about we catch up after I’m done and I can help you out too?”

The “sexy” look on her face dropped. “My name’s Sally, nevermind, you can have the ugly bitch!” Bucky cringes slightly at getting her name wrong again; he was never good with those. You don’t know why you were involved with their lovers quarrel, but a twinge of hurt sprouts in your heart. You didn’t even do anything to her and she had to come at you for your looks, and Bucky didn’t say a fucking word.

Grabbing your things, you pack them with more force than necessary, but you don’t give a fuck. “Sweetheart, where are ya’ going? Don’t listen to her, she’s just a bit jealous that I’m with ya’.”

How does he not see what he did wrong? You just glare at him before turning on your heels and walking away. There is no way that you’re going to spend anymore time or energy on him when he isn’t going to try. If it was anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t be so hurt, but for just one second you thought that Bucky wasn’t as bad as he made himself out to be.

“Sweets, c’mon, we still have that essay to write.” Was this man really following you down the hall? Yes, yes he was. 

You spin around, eyes ablaze just to walk back up to him and push his chest. “You have an essay to write because I. Am. Done. You don’t give a fuck about this and I refuse to put myself through this for nothing.”

“What did I even do?” Now you were shaking with anger.

“What did you do? You haven’t tried at all, showing up late, trying to get me to fuck you, and worst of all, you let someone talk about me like that right in front of you and didn’t say a fucking word. You know, for a second there I thought you might be a nice guy, but you proved me the fuck wrong.”

Bucky had the nerve to look angry at what you said. Pushing you against the wall, he stares into your eyes. “Sweets, you’re really starting to piss me off. I’m fucking trying and it’s not good enough for ya’. I ought to fuck that attitude right outta ya’.” His eyes drop down to your lips and you’re too stunned to speak, not expecting him to push you up against a wall. 

He was starting to scare you, getting into your space like this, but before you could tell him to back off his lips smashed against yours. It was rough and fast. Your lips stayed still but your eyes were wide open, shocked at what he was doing. You tried to push his chest, but he only got closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, one hand dropping to your ass.

You struggled to free one of your hands, but as soon as you did you slapped Bucky in the face as hard as you could given your angle. He pulls back, shock on his face at the fact that you hit him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing! What made you think that I wanted to kiss you, asshole!” You try to wipe your lips, wanting to get the memory of his lips against yours off.

Bucky just stood there, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know what came over him. You shook your head and practically ran away to your dorm so you could shower and wash his touch off of you. The next day you were glad you didn’t have class with Bucky, but the remains of his kiss were still lingering. You didn’t even want to help him to begin with and this is how it ends up? With him forcing you to kiss him.

You didn’t want to tell anyone what happened, just wanting to forget the whole thing. But you couldn’t avoid Bucky for long since you did have to share a class together. He tried to come up to you, but you saw it out of the corner of your eye and switched seats before he could reach you. The entire hour and a half lecture was spent making sure Bucky wasn’t making his way any closer to you.

Instead of rushing out when class was over, you made your way down to your professors desk. “Professor, could I talk to you in your office for a minute? It’s important.” He might be relaxed most of the time, but your professor always made sure everyone in his class felt like they could talk to him if needed. 

Nodding his head, he leads you to his office and closes the door behind you, but not before you catch a glimpse of Bucky looking like a kicked puppy. He knew what you were about to talk about in that office, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Have a seat and tell me what’s going on. You’ve seemed off the past couple of lessons and I’m starting to get worried.”

You gulped, not knowing why it was so hard to say that you don’t want to tutor Bucky anymore. You didn’t want to let your professor down. Maybe it was because he reminded you of a father that you never had, but you just wanted to make him proud, showing him that you were capable of what he entrusted to you. He was looking at you, waiting to listen.

“Um, well, I have been distracted, but I think that it would be best for James to-” You can’t finish the rest of your sentence when you look at your professor. He trusted you to help Bucky and you can’t throw his trust away. “I think it would be best for James to have a more structured plan and I wanted to discuss that with you.”

The pride in his eyes was undeniable and you forgot about all the shit Bucky has put you through over the last few days. “Of course, what did you have in mind?” When you get out of his office, Bucky is still waiting, most likely missing the next party one of his friends is having.

You don’t even look at him, only grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him with you all the way down to the library. “Sweets, listen, I didn’t mean to make ya’ feel-” Turning around, you cut him off and he stumbles to a stop.

“No, I don’t want to hear it, James. You listen to me. We will meet in this library every other day at this exact time and you will keep your mouth shut and work. Do you hear me?” Bucky feels his pants tighten, but doesn’t say a word about it, slightly scared to talk back to you. 

He just nods his head, finally noticing how beautiful you were. How your eyes weren’t just one color, they had little specks in them. Or how your nose wasn’t completely flat at the bridge, but having a small bump there. Or how your cheeks were just a bit on the chubby side, framing your face perfectly. Or how your lips form a small frown, the sides pulling down giving you an adorable pout.

“A nod is not an answer, James. Use your words.” Bucky swears that he could have cum in his pants at that exact moment. No woman has ever been so dominant with him in or out of the bedroom. 

He gulps before finding his voice again, hoarse but still working. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t let ya’ down again. I swear.” You stare into his eyes for a few seconds longer, determining if you believed him or not, giving Bucky more time to appreciate every part of your face he didn’t notice before.

You let go of his shirt and keep walking and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, eyes downcast to your ass but not being able to see much with your hoodie going down past it. Instead of going to the corner of the library you were at last time, you walk to one of the private study rooms. “Sit and get your shit out.”

Bucky wastes no time following your direction, loving how brazen you were. You sit down next to him, giving him the opportunity to smell your perfume, the light scent intoxicating. “So, teach, what are we working on first?” His eyes are bright and attentive, taking in your facial expressions. He’s trying to butter you up, make you less angry at him.

“We have to fix your atrocious essay. It’s worth the most amount of points so hopefully it will bring your grade up.” You root through his binder, nothing organized at all. When you find it and pull it out you sigh, not knowing where to even start. “Okay, first things first, you need to at least understand what this is about.”

You explain everything to him, stopping to see if he is still following along, surprised to see him paying attention, going so far as to interrupt every so often to ask questions. For the first time since he got to college, Bucky is trying. The two of you sit there for a few hours, going over the essay line by line, fixing his mistakes. To your surprise, his grammar wasn’t too bad. At least he had something going for him.

The next few lessons go by the same way, Bucky working hard to not piss you off, but also to improve his grades. There were no flirty comments, no complaining about you being bossy. He was falling for you, something that Bucky never thought would happen to him.

He didn’t know how it started. Maybe it was that day you told him off, grabbing his shirt and putting him in his place. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. You were so beautiful and smart. God you were smart. It amazed him how easy it was for you to explain the assignments to him. 

Bucky stopped going to parties, too. For once he didn’t find interest in getting shitfaced drunk and sticking his dick in a random girl; although it was giving him his first ever case of blue balls, it just felt wrong to have sex with another girl. He tried once at the last party he went to before he decided to stop going, but her hand on his cock didn’t make him pulse with need. Bucky ended up faking a phone call, saying that his friend was in the hospital and he needed to go see him.

As the weeks pass, Bucky can tell you’re getting soft on him, especially when you called him Bucky for the first time.

 “C’mon, sweets, it can’t be that bad helpin’ me out.” Bucky leans back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered on his face. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, James because from where I stand, I’m losing IQ points by the minute with you.” You still try to sass him but Bucky can tell you’re fighting off a smile. The two of you talk like actual friends now - no more jabs at his promiscuity and no more ogling.

“Ah, I think it’s the other way around. I can feel myself gettin’ smarter with ya’.” Bucky puts his head on the table in front of you, moving so he could look at your face. His eyes glisten, showing the sweet man hidden underneath his tough exterior.

“Oh, give me a break, Bucky, you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll do all the work for you.” You smile, looking down at him with the same adoration he’s giving you. His name leaving your lips felt right, smooth and sweet.

Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting his name to sound so damn good coming from you. He doesn’t say anything in fear of you going back to calling him James. Now that you’ve called him Bucky, he never wants to hear his first name come out of your mouth again. He wants to be your Bucky.

You can’t deny the feelings you’ve developed for Bucky. The man charming his way into your heart, but you know you can’t act on them. You doubt that Bucky has ever been in a serious relationship, only going for one night stands. Even though you’ve seen first hand how sweet of a man he can be, you still aren’t convinced that he would be interested in dating.

But Bucky doesn’t share the same sentiment. Today is the day he’s going to ask you on a date, hoping that you’ll say yes and give him a chance to prove himself to you, prove that he can be the man you deserve. Like always, you’re in the library before him, already set up and waiting. When you see him walking over you wave, the same gorgeous smile he fell for gracing your lips. 

You could tell that he was nervous, stuttering and not meeting your eyes. “Bucky, what’s going on with you? Don’t tell me that you forgot to turn in the essay that we’ve been working on.”

Bucky smiles sheepishly at you. “No, sweets, I remembered to turn it in. I, uh, well, ya’ know. I got a question for ya’.” Mentally slapping himself in the face, Bucky blushed.

Staring at him suspiciously, you pushed your laptop away, giving him your full attention. “Well, sweets, you’ve been so good to me over these past few weeks. Really turned me around. I didn’t think that I would be able to do all this college shit, you know?” It wasn’t a question that he wanted you to answer. “You made me change my ways. I don’t want to go to parties and get blackout drunk anymore. To be honest, I’d much rather spend my time with you.”

Bucky takes a deep breath while you gaze at him with a blank expression on your face, making him even more nervous than before. “Doesn’t matter what we’re doing, s’long as it’s with you I don’t care.”

You cut off his rambling, afraid of where he is going. “Bucky, what are you trying to say to me?” You know what he is trying to say, but you don’t know how to react to it. It’s not like you haven’t imagined what it would be like to go out with him, but that’s just not the man he is.

“I’m tryin’ to be romantic right now, sweets.” He lets out a little giggle, playing with his hands to try to calm himself down. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, would you like to go on a date with me?” Bucky feels his heart drop when you only stare at him, not even blinking. His knee starts to bounce, the anticipation becoming too much for him.

You sigh, thinking about what to say to him. The two of you have a good friendship, one that you never thought you would have, but starting a relationship with him is terrifying. “Bucky, listen.” Just from the way you started your sentence, Bucky regrets saying anything. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I really do, but I can’t deny that your past scares me.”

“What do you mean, sweets?” For a man so observant, he can be a little dumb.

“You don’t do relationships, Bucky. You’re used to no strings attached and dating includes a lot of strings.” Bucky clenches his jaw, of course his past would come back to bite him in the ass.

“I don’t want no strings attached anymore. I want to be with you and only you.” You close your eyes, putting your head down slightly. You want to believe him, you really do, but you don’t want to get your heart broken. Gently, Bucky’s hand grabs your chin, moving you to face him. “Let me prove myself to you, sweets, just give me a chance and if I blow it I give you full permission to kick my ass.”

That brings a small smile to your lips, but you’re still not convinced. “What if you get bored of me? Being with the same person over and over again?” Bucky’s heart aches at your words, not used to seeing you unsure of yourself. How could he ever get tired of you? He knows that he is the one who caused your insecurities. If he didn’t sleep around as much as he did, then you wouldn’t worry about his loyalty.

“Sweetheart, ever since you put me in my place, I haven’t touched another woman, can’t even think about someone who isn’t you touchin’ me. Just one chance is all I’m askin’ and I promise that I will show you how much I care.”

Closing your eyes, you lean into his warm palm, letting yourself feel him. His eyes hold so much vulnerability and you feel yourself losing the ability to say no to him. “Just one chance, Barnes. And if you hurt me I swear to God.” You’ve never seen Bucky smile so wide, pure joy adorning his face. 

The smile never left his face, only growing wider. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweets. What about you come over to my dorm and we can have a movie night? Maybe you could even stay over?” He looks sheepish, worried you’ll turn him down. At the quirk of your brow he rushes to explain himself. “Not like that! Just to hang out.”

You head back to your dorm to get a change of clothes while Bucky waits outside so he could walk with you back to his. As soon as you walk out, he is rushing to grab your bag from you, insisting that he carries it. “Bucky, I can carry my own bag, you know. I’m capable of that much.” He loves your little attitude, never accepting his help.

Throwing an arm over your shoulder, Bucky leads you away, not giving you your bag back. His dorm is just what you expect from a college frat boy: trash can overflowing, clothes on the floor, food left out, bed a complete mess. Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky shyly looks at you. You decide to only give him a little bit of grief for the mess. “Am I allowed on the bed or have you fucked someone here?”

Bucky’s eyes widen, frantically shaking his head. “No, never brought anyone back to my dorm.” Toeing your shoes off, you ask him where the bathroom is, changing your clothes before you flop onto the bed, letting yourself sink into the fluffy mattress. For a minute, Bucky feels his brain malfunction. The sight of you in his bed is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He would give his left arm to have you naked right now, his cock buried deep inside you, your pussy pulsing around his cock, moaning when he rubs little circles on your clit.

“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna put on a movie, loverboy?” Shaking his head, Bucky nods and heads over to grab his laptop before climbing into bed, leaving space in between the two of you in case you didn’t want to be too close. “I didn’t know that hanging off the side of the bed was your style, but if you want to leave me to freeze feel free to do so.”

Bucky doesn’t know how to act around you, this whole dating thing is uncharted territory for him. He just moves over, your thigh pressed to his. Bucky had to will his cock to not get hard, the softness of your body was making it hard to think straight. The fact that he’s only jerked off for the past month isn’t helping either.

You move to get more comfortable, which so happens to include you snuggling into his side, curling your arms around his bicep. Bucky has no clue what the movie is about, the image of all the things he wants to do to you in this bed are too much for him. He doesn’t know what the feeling passing over him is. He likes this. He likes the feeling of your body pressed to his. Not in a sexual way, although he wouldn’t mind that either, but in a completely innocent way. Bucky never stayed around after he came, always getting dressed and leaving. He’s never had a woman press their body against his just to find comfort.

Somehow, Bucky is following along with the plot of the movie, but he knows that it was just because of how you interacted with all the characters like they could hear you. Bucky would usually hate that, he hates when people talk through movies, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. If anything, he was glad that you kept talking, giving him the opportunity to hear your voice.

Halfway through the movie you stop talking. When Bucky looks down he sees that you fell asleep on his chest. Of course at that moment Bucky’s bladder decided that he needed to pee urgently. He tried to hold off for as long as he could, focusing on the part of your mouth and the bit of drool leaking from it. But try as he might, he needed to use the bathroom. 

He tried to maneuver you to not disturb your sleep but you woke up as soon as he moved. “Where you going?” Shit, he’s going to have to pee with a boner because your sleepy voice sent blood right to his cock. 

“Just gotta take a leak, be right back.” You just snuggle deeper into the pillows, humming in understandment. Bucky has to put one hand on the wall in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet at an awkward angle trying to push his erection down with his other hand so he could pee. It took a bit of work, but he was able to go without making a mess. Now, Bucky might be a lot of things, but unhygienic isn’t one of them and before he goes back to bed he washes his hands.

Once he walks back into the room he sees that you’re more awake than before but still laying in bed. He hits the lightswitch on his way over and turns on the lamp, letting the soft glow illuminate your features. “What took you so long? Almost fell back asleep.”

Before he could answer, you wrap your body around his and feel his hard cock through his sweats. Pulling away slightly, your face gets hot. That’s why he took so long. “Shit, sweets, I’m sorry. It’s just, well, you were in my bed, and you look so gorgeous. Not that I’m expecting anything! But the image of you is fucking hot. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Your giggle catches him by surprise. “It’s okay, Bucky. Can’t imagine going from having sex all the time to being abstinent for a month.” With the soft glow of the lamp, you see Bucky’s blush. “Just don’t think I’m going to fix it for you though.” He shakes his head and chuckles lowly, pulling you back into him, keeping his pelvis away from yours even though his dick was begging for release.

Bucky doesn’t say anything back, but his hand moves to your waist, resting over your shirt. His thumb rubs small circles before he trails his hand up to your ribs and you can feel the heat of his palm through your shirt. For a few minutes he keeps his hand there, feeling your heartbeat, all the while moving his face closer.

He can feel your heartbeat pick up the closer he gets. You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and inviting. You’ve never been this close to his face, seeing all of his freckles up close. You don’t want him to pull away, not when your whole body is thrumming with need. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that Bucky could be this gentle.

He moves his hand up to your arm, delicately trailing his fingertips up and down, giving you goosebumps. Bucky is waiting for you to make the first move this time. The first time he kissed you was crass and unwarranted. The little gasp that leaves your lips when his palm rests on your cheek makes his cock jump.

Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in first. His plump lips meet yours and you moan into his mouth, not expecting his lips to be so soft and warm. You move your hands to his chest, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel his whole body pressed to yours. You ignore the erection pressed against your stomach, completely lost in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

Bucky frees his other hand from under him and wraps it around your waist, pulling you on top of him. The pressure of his hand caused you to arch your back, gasping when your core meets his hard dick. Bucky doesn’t waste the opportunity to put his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste. He has to use every bit of self control in his body not to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t have to because you grind down onto him, searching for friction. The harder you kiss him, the more his will slips from him and he was the first to break the kiss, a trail of saliva still connecting you to him.

Both of you gasp for breath, having deprived yourselves of oxygen for too long. “Why’d you stop?” God, you were perfect. Eyes wide, pupils blown, kiss swollen lips - Bucky knew that he wanted to keep you like this all the time, having you look at him like that was addicting and he was already hooked.

“If we keep going I won’t be able to control myself and I told you that I’m going to prove to you that I’m in this. That I don’t want you just for sex. I’m going to treat you right, make sure you know how much I care first.” You have to bite your lip to stop the moan leaving you. That was the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. The fact that Bucky, the resident fuckboy, is denying sex because he wants to show you what you mean to him first has your cunt clenching around nothing.

You can’t think of words to convey how much that means to you, so you just slam your lips against his, kissing him with as much passion as you possibly could. Bucky has to use every morsel of restraint to move you off of him. “Sweets, you’re going to kill me with this.” The giggle you let out makes leaving his throbbing dick alone worth it, but you take pity on him and ask if he wants to go to the bathroom to fix his issue.

At first he declines, but he eventually caves and goes into the bathroom, shuts the door and handles his business. You scroll on your phone for a bit but you’re surprised when he comes back so fast. “Loverboy, this better not be a sign that you don’t last in bed, because when we do have sex, I want you to fuck me properly.”

As he flops back down on the bed, he groans. When, you said when, not if, when. “Sweets, if I hadn’t just came my dick would be rock hard again. You can’t say shit like that to me.” He rolls over, stradling you. “And sweets, I promise you, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name.”

You just raise your eyebrows, choosing to tease him a bit. “Well, based on the time you spent touching yourself, I’m not convinced. Hope your reputation hasn’t gone to your head because I’ll be honest if you can’t fuck me right.”

Bucky squints his eyes at you before leaning down, like he was going to kiss you again, but at the last moment, he pulls back and tickles your sides. Your laughter is easily one of his favorite sounds. “Bucky! Stop or else I’ll never have sex with you.” That makes him pause, even though he knew it was an empty threat and lays back down next to you.

“Okay, okay, sweets, I’ll leave you be. But I wouldn’t be opposed to you tickling me.” 

“What, is this a kink that you have, being tickled?” He scrunches his nose while he laughs, knowing what he was going to say next.

“No, but I would love it if you would tickle my pickle.” He smirks like it was the best joke ever told, proud of himself. You groan and turn away from him so he can’t see your smile. “C’mon, sweets, that was a good one.”

If you turn around you know you’ll see his puppy dog eyes. “Buck, that was the worst joke in the history of jokes.” 

“Ah, ah, I can hear your smile. You loved it.” You don’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you liked his joke. It’s silent for a moment and you are about to turn back around but Bucky talks before you can. “Do you mind if we spoon? I mean, you don’t have to stay overnight, but if you want to, ya’ know.”

“Well, it is pretty cold outside, and I would hate to have to walk all the way back. And who knows, I could freeze to death at my dorm. Better be safe than sorry.” Bucky knows what you're doing and plays along.

“Of course, sweets, can’t have my girl freeze. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t keep my girl warm.” You skooch back, pressing against his chest and his arms circle your waist, chin resting on your head. “Night, sweets, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Only if I don’t run away, loverboy.” You feel the vibrations of his chest as he chuckles before leaning back to turn the lamp off, falling asleep with your soft body pressed to his.

Over the next few months, Bucky proves himself to be the perfect boyfriend, always asking you how your day was, remembering all the little things about you, kissing you and holding your hand around campus, not giving a single fuck who saw the two of you. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he was whipped.

“Buck, c’mon, this is the best fucking party of the year, you have to go. It’s gonna be packed with girls in slutty costumes, Halloween man, everyone wants to fuck everyone.” Bucky only rolls his eyes at Steve.

“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, parties aren’t for me anymore. Hangovers suck dick and I have better things to do in my free time.” Steve doesn’t seem to understand how much Bucky loved you. He’s never said it, at least not yet. 

“Like what, hanging out with the nerd who hasn’t put out in three months? C’mon, I know you want some pussy and it’s gonna be on a fucking platter tonight.” Bucky sees red, not giving a shit that Steve is his best friend. No one talks about his girl like that, no one.

“Steve, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but you fucking know how much I care about her. If I ever hear you call her that shit again, I’ll put you in the fucking hospital. I couldn’t give less of a shit about how long I have to wait for her to know that I don’t just want a pussy to fuck, not anymore. I’m done with the parties and the random girls, okay. So get that through your thick skull.”

He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, storming out of Steve’s dorm and walking away, not even caring where he was headed. He doesn’t know how he got there, but he stands outside of your door, raising his hand to knock. You always answer the door for him and this time is no different.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You were so tuned into him, reading him like a book. Without waiting you pull him into your dorm, shutting and locking the door behind him, leading him to your bed. His jaw was clenched, eyes set. If he was a cartoon, steam would be pouring from his ears.

“Fucking Steve.” He kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable in your bed, you following right after. You would go anywhere he goes.

Cuddling up to him, you pull him into you and his muscles relax at your touch, body responding to yours without thought. “What about Steve? You two get into a fight?” You never really liked Steve, but he was Bucky’s friend and you would listen to whatever he had to say about Steve. He was just like Bucky was before he met you.

“Being a fucking asshole. You wanna know what he said to me?” Bucky doesn’t wait for you to answer, only turning his head to see you better before continuing. “Wanted me to go to the Halloween party tonight, talking about all the girls that want to fuck as if he doesn’t know that I’m with you.” That doesn’t seem as bad as you thought, thinking that they got into a fist fight. It doesn’t surprise you that Steve was still trying to convince Bucky to go back to his playboy ways.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. “He had the fucking nerve to say that I should go because we haven’t had sex yet, like I give a shit about that. Fucking disrespected you right to my face.” You couldn’t deny that you were turned on by the fact that Bucky was defending your honor even when you weren’t there, not letting anyone bad mouth you.

“And what did you say, Buck?” Fuck, your voice was breathing, heartrate picking up. You wanted to hear what he said, how he told his best friend off. Bucky didn’t seem to pick up on your arousal, still too heated from his argument.

“Fucking told his ass that if he ever says that shit again, I’ll fuck him up. No one talks about my girl like that, don’t give a shit who it is.” You swear you could cum right now. Why was that so hot? Maybe it was because you’ve never had a man that didn’t let anyone disrespect you, or maybe you just liked to see him mad.

“I want you, Bucky. Want you to fuck me.” It just comes out, shocking the both of you. Bucky whips his head around, eyes as wide as your own.

“What?” 

“I want you to fuck me. I’m ready, know you don’t just want to use me.” Bucky’s dick is rock hard in seconds, all the anger in his body disapparating instantly. 

“Are you sure you want this, sweets? Because I have no problem waiting.” Throughout the course of your dating, Bucky can’t count the amount of times that he’s been hard and left his cock untouched. It’s gotten to the point where the two of you knew he was going to get hard when he was around you, not that it bothered you, knowing how much you were affecting him, but Bucky’s used to ignoring his erection now and he has no problem waiting for it to go away if you don’t want to have sex with him.

“Yes, Bucky, I think I’ve made you wait long enough. And to be honest, if I make you wait any longer I don’t think you’ll last more than a minute.” The mouth on you marvels Bucky every time. 

“Excuse me, sweets, but I’ll have you know I’m no two pump chump.” You only raise an eyebrow and Bucky huffs before kissing you again. It’s slow and hot. Bucky’s never kissed like this before, but with you he just can’t help but savor the feeling of your lips on his. He doesn’t want to rush, if he could he would kiss you forever, stuck in limbo, floating with only your touch to ground him.

You whine, hands pulling at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. Bucky moves back, smirking at you. “Desperate, aren’t we? Just wanna feel me ‘gainst you, huh?” Teasing hasn’t been something Bucky really did, always hurrying to the main event, but he wants to make you crave him as much as he does you. 

The glare you give him holds no heat, not able to be mad at him when he’s looking so damn hot above you. Bucky relents, just this once, and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach. He sucks a breath in through his teeth when your hands land on his abs. “Holy hell, woman! Your hands are fucking ice cubes!” You giggle but don’t pull away, sitting up and moving your hands across his back, slipping them into his sweats, finding his bare ass and squeezing.

“Well, loverboy, warm them up for me.” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief, chuckling at you. He takes your hands out of his pants and lays you back down, letting his warm palms circle the soft skin of your belly under your shirt. 

“Can I take this off, sweetheart? Gonna let me see those pretty tits?” Your cunt pulses at his words. Men that you’ve been with before haven’t talked to you like this, making you yearn for them.

“I mean, you can take it off but they’re not that pretty.” Bucky wheels his head back, clearly offended by your statement. For the first time, you shy away from his gaze. You weren’t exactly insecure about your body, but you also weren’t the most confident and you doubt that your body is better than the surplus of girls Bucky’s had.

“I beg your fucking pardon, sweets. I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.” Bucky lowers his face to yours, and you’re sure he is looking right through you. 

“Well, I doubt they’re the best pair you’ve seen, Buck. Don’t roll your eyes at me either.” You catch the eye roll Bucky gave you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, but rather the words you were saying.

“I can’t believe my ears, sweets. The smartest girl I’ve ever met is saying what is quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve heard. And that’s coming from the guy who is friends with Sam.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes and instead of saying anything back to him, you grab the bottom of your shirt and take it off, revealing your naked chest to him, foregoing a bra.

Like any man, Bucky gets distracted by the sight of your breasts on display for him. It takes him a second, but he shakes his head and comes back from his daze. “Fuck, sweetheart, you got the prettiest set of tits I’ve ever fuckin’ seen. Fucking perfect.” Bucky isn’t lying either, he really does think that you’re the most beautiful woman on the entire planet, every part of your body is perfection. “Should be a model, sweets, let everyone see how gorgeous you are.”

You feel the heat creep up your neck and rest on your cheeks. You aren’t used to being looked at like this. The look he’s giving you is so much different from when you first started working with him. It’s not filled with lust, although you can tell it’s there, but filled with awe and love. “Uh, uh, don’t look away from me. Want you to look at me while I make you cum.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before moving down to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot that he found the first time you made out. The little gasps and whines that leave your lips has his cock begging to be touched, but right now it isn’t about him, it’s about you.

You arch your back, pressing your soft breasts against his solid chest, drawing his attention away from your neck and to your tits. Trailing kisses down your chest, he swirls his tongue around your right breast, purposely avoiding your sensitive nipple. He doesn’t listen to any of your protests so you take matters into your own hands and grab a fistfull of his hair and jerk his head to where you want him to be. 

 The moan that leaves Bucky is pornographic, having no idea he liked his hair pulled that much. Bucky abides and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. “Oh, Bucky, just like that, feels good.” Bucky has to buck his hips into yours, never hearing something so sexy in all his life.

His other hand comes up to grab your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, every so often switching to give each one the attention they deserve. The longer he plays with your breasts, the more you feel your panties soak and you can’t take it anymore, needing some type of release.

Bucky pulls away with a pop, the cool air hitting your wet nipples makes you gasp. “Baby, I need you to touch me.” You can sense the words about to leave his mouth and answer his unspoken question. “Touch my pussy.”

Letting out a deep groan, Bucky grabs the hem of your sleep shorts, pulling them and your panties down when you nod. Your hand jets down to cover your pussy when you remember that you haven’t shaved, not expecting to have sex with Bucky tonight. “Wait, I have hair right now, maybe we shouldn’t.”

Bucky just blinks at you. He can’t believe that you would deprive him of your pussy because of a little hair. “Sweets, I have been a patient man, but I swear to God if you don’t move your hand and let me see my pretty pussy I’m going to lose my mind. You really think I give a shit if you have some fucking hair?”

You just smile sheepishly at him before removing your hand. “There she is. Look at her, so beautiful ain’t she? Yeah, she’s dripping for me, knows who she belongs to.” Fuck, you didn’t expect him to be so enamored with your cunt. “Ya gonna let me touch my pretty girl?”

You gulp before giving a breathy yes and Bucky spreads your legs a little wider and brings his right hand up to your pussy lips, gently tracing them making you twitch and giggle. “Bucky, that tickles.” Bucky smiles and his nose scrunches before his thumb goes from your hole up to your clit. “Fuck, Bucky, rub my clit.”

He just stops his movement, resting his thumb on your bundle of nerves. “This is where I’m in charge, sweets, and I don’t think that was a very polite way of talking to the man who is touching you.” You huff, not used to taking orders from anyone, but you want him to keep touching you so you relent.

“Will you please, rub my clit, loverboy.”

Bucky clicks his tongue at you. “Now, sweets, that didn’t sound very genuine but I’ll let it slide this time because I want to see this pretty pussy soak my sheets.” 

He starts to rub your clit from side to side, making you jerk your hips away. “Don’t fucking DJ my cunt. Circles, Buck, circles. You’re making me lose faith in you, babe.” Heat makes its way up his neck, his selfishness finally catching up to him. He doesn’t say anything, but switches up his method to what you said and you giggle at his confidence wavering.

His little slip up doesn’t slow him down, though, quickly finding the pace and pressure that seems to work best and draws those pretty sounds from your lips. Bucky knows that he isn’t going to be able to get enough of this, of you laid out on his bed consumed by the pleasure he is giving you. 

“You want my fingers inside ya? Cause I wanna feel my pretty girl cum around my fingers.” You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten to the edge this fast. All you can do is nod, moans and gasps the only sounds leaving your lips.

When his first finger slips inside you, your back arches and somehow the moans leaving you get even sexier and Bucky slips another finger in. “That’s it, pretty girl, suck my fingers in. Doing so good for me, knew you’d treat me so well. Don’t ya think, sweets?” The way he talks to your pussy has you leaking more arousal out.

“Please, Bucky, don’t stop, keep going just like that. M’gonna cum.”

A jolt of excitement shoots up Bucky’s spine. He wanted to see you cum so bad. Using every bit of self control in his body not to speed up, Bucky kept the same pace, curling his fingers to find that spongy patch. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, sweets, need to feel my pretty girl cum on my fingers. Promise I’ll feed her my cock after.”

Bucky groans with each clench of your cunt around his fingers, more desperate than you for your orgasm. “C’mon, sweets, give it to me. Can feel your clit pulsing. Be my good girl and give me what I want.” That was all you needed to fall off the edge, trusting that Bucky would catch you. 

Bucky’s sure that the sight of you cumming is the greatest thing in the world. He couldn’t dream of fucking you and not seeing you fall apart for him. He never stops moving his fingers, riding out your orgasm, only relenting when you push his hand away. It takes a few minutes, but you come back down, an open mouth smile on your face, eyes closed and Bucky falls even harder for you.

Blindly, you search for his pants, wanting to see his cock. “Bring him out, Buck, wanna see my new friend.” If it wasn’t for the orgasm he just gave you, Bucky would have been positive that you were drunk off your ass. Doubling over, Bucky cackles, not expecting to hear that come out of your mouth. “Don’t you laugh at me, loverboy, know your cock is huge. Let me meet him. Wanna put him in my mouth.” You give him a lopsided smirk.

“Don’t worry, sweets, you can meet him.” Bucky struggles to hold back his laugh. In all fairness, he did refer to your pussy as her, but the thought of you calling his dick him is hilarious. Nonetheless, Bucky strips the rest of his clothes off and you practically drool at the sight of his dick.

A little over average length, but thick as hell. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a cock that thick and you know he is going to destroy your cunt. Under his cock, his balls were heavy and full, the amount of cum in there building up just for you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him into you and Bucky has to catch himself with his arms so he doesn’t crush you with his weight. 

You both gasp when his bare cock rubs against your soaking cunt. Bucky has to close his eyes and think about all the assignments he still has to complete to stop himself from cumming on the spot. “Want it inside me, please, Buck, give it to me.” Bucky is near the verge of crying when you grind your cunt on him.

All you want is for him to fuck you until you can’t see straight and so does Bucky, but it takes everything in him to put away, knowing that the next words to come out of his mouth aren’t going to be sexy. “Hold on, sweets. I have to get a condom first.”

You don’t like that one bit, wanting to feel him inside you with no barrier. “Don’t need one, ‘m on the pill.” That has Bucky about to cum all over his sheets and your pussy. He knows that he needs to be responsible, not only for him, but for you too.

“Sweets, I, well, I haven’t been tested since my last partner. I’ve never done it without a condom, but I don’t want to risk it until I get tested.” He hangs his head in shame, yet again his promiscuity is coming back to bite him in the ass. What he wouldn’t give to feel your sopping cunt choke his dick, hell only knows, but his statement seems to sober you up.

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably for the best.” You can’t meet his eyes, the conversation awkward enough even if you weren’t about to fuck. Bucky takes in a deep breath and huffs out, clearly not knowing what to do next so you decide to lighten the mood. “Well, loverboy, you better wrap that bad boy up so you can prove that you can actually fuck me like you said you would.”

You got Bucky to crack a smile before he gave a small smack to your thigh and walked over to his nightstand to get a condom. You wolf whistled when you saw his toned ass. “Damn, baby, you’ve been holding out on me?”

Bucky wheels around and says some clever retort, but you don’t hear it, not when his cock swings around with him, bobbing at the sudden change of direction. Not only that, but with each step he takes, his dick bounces up and down. “Sweetheart, it’s all yours. Stare all you want but close your mouth before I put somethin’ in there.”

Bucky rolls the condom down his length, giving it a few pumps while he admires you laid out on his bed, naked and ready for him to fuck you. Before he climbs back into bed, you stop him. “Wait, loverboy, do a little spin for me, let me see him move.”

Throwing his head back, Bucky lets out a belly laugh, and he just so happens to make his cock and balls bounce. “C’mon, s’all I want.” When he calms down, Bucky relents and circles his hips a few times, his cock, although stiff, moves with his hips and you have to close your legs to try to relieve the ache in your core. “Fuck, need you now, Bucky.”

“Yeah, sweets, you need my cock? Does my pretty girl need to be stuffed with my cock?” No smart retort comes to your mind, only the need to have him fill you up. It’s been way too long since you’ve had sex and you know Bucky’s cock is going to ruin you for anyone else.

“Please, Buck.” Fuck, the way you’re looking at him, with wide, pleading eyes, and a pout on your lips has Bucky’s dick pulsing. He climbs on the bed, in between your legs. “How do you want me?” You’ve overheard Bucky relive his one night stands more than once in class, before he fell for you. He was always adamant that the only positions worth doing were the ones where he could see the girl’s ass, and how boring positions where he could see her face were. 

Bucky stares at you for a second, cupping your face and leaning down to give you a tender kiss. “Want you just like this, sweets, wanna see you.” You swallow hard, willing yourself not to cry at how intimate he’s being. Despite your best efforts, tears well up in your eyes, making Bucky panic.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” His eyes hold so much love, something Bucky never thought he would feel for a partner. You wrap your legs and arms around him, clinging like a koala.

“Not a damn thing, Buck, just love you. Love you so fucking much it hurts.” Bucky feels his heart swell. If this is what it felt like to love and be loved, Bucky would spend the rest of his life trying to keep you, show you how perfect you are, love you as hard as he can and then some.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even put into words how much I fucking love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, made me change from the asshole I was.” Bucky had his own tears welling up in his waterline.

“Buck, make love to me, show me how much you love me.” Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his dick, drawing a gasp from his lips, and line him up with your pussy. He presses his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes as he pushes in, cock stretching your cunt with every inch.

Crashing his lips into yours, Bucky tries to hide his moan, whiny and long, never feeling such intense pleasure. Neither of you can kiss, just gasping into the other’s mouth. When his hips are flush with yours, balls resting against your ass, Bucky has to stop. If he moves he’ll cum; he knows it. He’s never felt like he would cum on the first stroke, but the way your cunt hugs him has him doubting that he’ll last more than a few minutes.

You can’t handle it, the stretch of his cock almost too much, but you needed him to move. “Please, baby, move, need it.” The moan that leaves him is sinful and you involuntarily clench around him.

“Sweets, can’t. Need a minute.” His arms go to your waist, and he pulls you up, groaning when his cock shifts deeper inside you, and sits with his back against the headboard, keeping you wrapped in his arms, bodies pressed so close together you could feel every muscle. Bucky closes his eyes, resting his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and relishing in the intimacy of the moment, with your breasts squished against his chest, feeling every breath you take, loving your soft hands scratching his scalp.

“Do this with all the girls, loverboy?” The breathiness in your voice has his cock pulsing against your walls.

“Never, sweetheart, never. You feel so fucking good.” Bucky sounded like he was about to cry with how hard he was trying not to cum.

You wanted him to fuck you, pussy leaking down his thighs. You decided that if you annoy him enough he might just fuck you dumb. “Guess I was right then, loverboy can’t last in bed. Gonna tell everyone how I broke your cock, how fast you came for me.”

That seemed to strike a nerve and Bucky rolled over, pining you to the bed with his body. You gasped at the quick motion and the jostle of his cock. “Sweets, now is not the time to tease me. Use your mouth for something better.” He could already hear your, like what, so he cut you off before you could get anything out. “Like moaning my name while I fuck you.”

He doesn’t pull his cock out far, wanting to stay as close to you as possible. Pushing back in, he groans, having to will himself not to cum. You feel so good, pussy wrapped around him perfectly. “Sweets, love you so much, never wanna leave this pussy.” You whine, a jolt of pleasure going through your clit at his words. 

“Love you too, Buck. Want to stay like this forever, want you.” It’s Bucky’s turn to whine, rutting into you, the coarse curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, the sensation of your breasts pressed to him new to him. 

He can’t help it, you just look too pretty underneath him, grabbing both of your hands in his, lacing them together and putting them above your head and pressing his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes. His lips meet yours, both of your whines and moans mix together. 

The constant roll of his hips is pushing you to the edge faster than ever before. You take one of your hands, still laced with his, and place it over his heart, feeling the erratic beat. The coil in your stomach is curling tighter and tighter. “C’mon, sweets, can feel you clenching ‘round me. Give it to me, cum on my cock.” 

Bucky is doing his best to hold on, wanting this moment to last, to relish in the bubble the two of you have created. His moans get louder, his own orgasm creeping up on him. Wiggling your other hand out of his grasp, you run your fingers over the back of his head, crashing your lips on his before you fall off the edge, eyes rolling back and body quivering, his body the only thing grounding you.

He had to pull out, your pussy almost milking his cum out, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wants to make you cum again, this time while he looks at your face, seeing it scrunch up in pleasure. You didn’t seem too happy at him for pulling out, needing him to be as close as possible. “Keep fucking me, Bucky. I need you to cum for me.”

Bucky groans before guiding his cock back home, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your pussy somehow got even tighter. Not wasting any time, he starts thrusting again, this time much faster, still rolling his hips, hitting your sweet spot every time.

Pulling his body away from yours, Bucky sits up, resting your thighs over his, keeping his dick inside of you, not missing a single thrust. With the new position, he can see your breasts bounce, but more importantly, how beautiful your face looks screwed in ecstasy. “So fucking beautiful for me, sweets. Love the way your pretty tits jiggle, look gorgeous when your getting fucked dumb on my cock, gonna keep you like this all the time.” 

In this position, your clit is being neglected so you reach one hand down, desperate to cum again. Bucky quickly swats your hand away, replacing it with his own. “Ah, ah, I’m gonna make my girl cum. Just want you to lay there and look pretty for me. Can you do that for me?” You just moan in response, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit, bringing you to the edge again. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes! I’ll do anything you want.” You feel Bucky’s cock pulsing inside of you, thrusts becoming sloppy and losing their rhythm. “Cum for me, Bucky, fill me up with your cum.” You both know that he is wearing a condom, but the thought of his cum rushing into your pussy, stuffing you to the brim, is enough to have Bucky emptying his balls into the rubber.

He can’t stop thrusting into you, still rubbing your clit, desperate for you to cum around him. “Sweets, so much fucking cum for you, know you can take it. Fuck, cum for me, milk my cock, get every drop out.” Bucky was right, you looked absolutely divine when you came. At that moment you’ve never looked prettier.

Bucky never felt an orgasm that intense, leaving him weak in the knees. Collapsing onto your chest, not able to hold his own weight up.You huff, air being pushed out of your lungs, but you don’t mind, his weight soothing, helping to bring you back down from the highs of your orgasms. You both lay there, hands stroking each other until you fully come back to reality.

“Gonna pull out, sweets, okay?” Bucky has never had his cock in a girl this long after he’s came, and it was getting too sensitive. Words don’t come to mind and you just nod your head dumbly, both of you hissing at the sensation.

Without a word, Bucky gets up and heads to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. All of a sudden tears well up in your eyes, body cold and craving his touch. He’s been so sweet to you for the past months, proving that he didn’t just want sex with you, but now he’s walking away as soon as you’re done. 

The buzzing of your body goes away, dread filling you. Rolling over, you burrito yourself under the covers, facing away from the bathroom, not able to stop the tears from streaming down your face. It only takes a few minutes, but to you it feels like a lifetime, until Bucky comes back, sliding under the covers himself. 

“So, sweets, what do ya’ want to do? I could go for a bit to eat myself. Don’t know when the last time you ate was though.” Bucky, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of the best sex of his life, already thinking about all the things he could do with you, all the ways he could get you to cum for him.

When you don’t respond right away, Bucky thinks you fell asleep. Leaving a kiss to the back of your head, he gets up and puts his boxers on, not bothering with anything else and heads to your kitchen. He doesn’t feel like making a full meal so he decides to just make a quick sandwich and head back to bed after eating.

You burst into full blown sobs when Bucky leaves, assuming that he left your dorm all together, having no idea that he was just outside. How could you have been so stupid to think that he really wanted you? Bucky goes to take a bite out of his snack when he hears your sobs, immediately thinking the worst - he hurt you, did something you didn’t like.

Rushing back into the room, Bucky climbs back into bed, rolling you over without warning. “What are you still doing here? Thought you left?” How could you ever think that he would leave you?

“No, sweets, just went to make a sandwich. What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Bucky has never been so fucking scared in all his life, terrified that he hurt you.

“Thought you left after you got what you wanted. You just left me in the bed after we were done.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting you to say that. He doesn’t know what he did wrong. He’s never stuck around after sex, confused at what’s going on with you.

“Sweets, I’m so sorry that I made you think that, but I don’t know what’s going on. Need you to talk to me. I don’t want you to think I don’t care.” Your bottom lip wobbled, of course he didn’t know about aftercare. It wasn’t his fault that he never had a relationship like this. It meant so much to you that he was asking how to fix his mistake.

“I get really sensitive after sex. It’s annoying actually, but I need to be held and told that you still love me.” You avoid his gaze, more tears making their way down your face, Bucky wiping them away. How could his perfect girl think that her needs were annoying or an inconvenience to him.

“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” Bucky pulls you into his lap, almost petting your hair. “You did so good for me, you know that? I love you so fucking much and nothing is going to change that, okay?” He pulls your head back to look into your eyes.

“It’s just that my last boyfriend said that he couldn’t look at me after sex, said he couldn’t see me the same way.” What in the fuck. 

“Sweetheart, I need you to understand that I know that I’m the fucking luckiest man alive to be able to be with you any way you let me. When I look at you I’m so proud to call you mine.”

You bury your head in his shoulder, letting him hold you and whisper sweet words in your ear. For his first time doing aftercare, Bucky is doing great and soon you come all the way down. Pulling away from him you giggle. “Love you too, Buck. Thank you for that. I know some men don’t care about that. After they get what they want they leave.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, thinking about all the girls he made feel like they were worthless. “I know that you did the same thing, but the fact that you were so willing to change means a lot to me.”

Bucky knows that there’s a lot he has to learn about being in a relationship, but he wants to learn it all to be the man you deserve. He is going to treat you like the goddess you are for the rest of his life, he knows it, already planning on picking out a ring, because he’s gonna love you for a long, long time.

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The Only Truth... | Part Four

The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x POW Flight Nurse!Female Reader

The day Stalag VIIA is liberated ought to be one of pure celebration. Unfortunately, fate has other plans in store.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Death, Blood, Brief Battle, Serious Reader Injury [gunshot wound], POW Camp Setting, SS Officers, Mental Health Struggles, References to Christianity, Reader Scars, Hospital Setting, Kissing, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Rating - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: Thank you all ever so much for your patience! At last we come to the end of our tale. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 6267

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The morning of Sunday, April 29, 1945, dawned cloudy but bright. The chill of early spring still hung in the air, your breath hanging from your lips as you ducked out into the tent to collect the clean yet still-unfolded laundry that had been awaiting your attention throughout the drama of the rainstorm. You had just managed to tuck it away into your room when Fitzgibbons arrived with a new book for you to read, a more recently published fantasy novel called The Hobbit, though you had other priorities before diving into it.

You had almost gotten away with your clandestine chores, rags folded, and three-quarters of the bandages rolled, when your former surgical technician appeared at your door, knocking on the frame with an admonishing look on his face.

“I see you’re taking it easy on your day off, Ma’am.”

Huffing in irritation at being caught, you shook your head. “I’m off my feet, Fitz, can’t we just call a truce?”

He made a non-committal noise before cracking a grin. “Actually came to ask a favor, so I’m thinking we can come to an agreement. Menzies,” his deliberate mispronunciation of the British Captain’s name made you roll your eyes affectionately, “ordered me to flush a wound using your make-shift tools and honestly, I cannot make heads or tails of what you’ve jerry-rigged.”

Biting back a laugh, you nodded quickly, well aware that your cobbled-together system was more than a little unorthodox and not at all surprised Menzies had not taken the time to ensure Fitzgibbons knew how it worked. “Certainly, let me walk you through it.”

Grabbing the laundry you had thus far folded, you made your way down the hall to collect the items from the supply desk and followed him to the bedside of a new patient. Introducing yourself warmly, you learned the man’s name was Michaels and he hailed from the frigid wilds of Canada.

“Fitz and I are going to use this here to flush that wound, alright?” You nodded to the nasty laceration on his calf, your makeshift instruments cradled in your arms.

“Sounds fine, Ma’am.” He nodded patiently, vowels clipped remarkably short in that efficient Canuck way of speaking.

“Alright so if you take this, Fitz.” You held out a funnel with a piece of tubing secured to it, watching the tech take it carefully.

The mundane calm of the morning was shattered by the sudden hum of an airplane engine, your eyes shooting to meet Fitzgibbons’ sharply moments before the eruption of gunfire.

“Everyone get down!” He shouted and you both lurched into motion to begin helping your patients from their cots onto the wooden planks of the tent platform, abandoning your instruments on Michaels’ cot.

Panic rising as you once again found yourself in a wildly unsafe place while under fire, you urged the men from their beds to get low, presenting smaller targets for the errant bullets that were punching holes through the canvas of the tent every so often. The cacophony outside only increased with the rumble of approaching vehicles – tanks quite possible given the depth of sound that carried across the camp – and you nearly tripped over your own feet in an effort to reach the last two patients who simply could not move on their own.

Heaving one, Sidhu from India, out of his cot and depositing him onto the floor, you were just sliding your arms beneath the shoulders of the last, Hernandez from Texas, when searing heat and pain punched into your side. Your arms and legs gave out beneath you instantly, your body collapsing atop the poor boy still on his cot, both of you gasping for breath. With a grunt of annoyance, you flung a hand back to your hip, eyes widening as your fingertips were quickly covered in a warm, slick fluid.

“M…Ma’am?!” Hernandez warbled from beneath you, watching as you lifted your fingers to inspect just what was going on, his face blanching at the unmistakable scarlet of blood. “Doc?! Medic!! Help!!!” He began to shriek all the words he knew to summon assistance, making you wince at the racket as you forced yourself to roll off him, crashing to the floor in a pile of uncooperative limbs.

Taking a moment to try and catch your breath, pulse rocketing at an alarming rate, you began to realize that no matter how long you lay there, things were not improving. In fact the situation was growing a lot more serious as a deep ache was settling into your right side and you could feel your clothes growing damper with blood by the second. Rolling onto your stomach, you had just begun to feebly pull yourself across the floor of the tent when the racket outside subsided momentarily, Hernandez’s cries summoning several sets of boots to run in your direction.

A great, external cheer erupted in the same moment you were lifted by many hands onto one of the recently vacated cots, Chalmers, Menzies and Fitzgibbons all hovering above you as they yanked at your shirt and pants to get at your wound. The striking similarity between your plight and that of Simms set your teeth on edge, tears brimming in your eyes at the sudden thought that this could really be it. You might very well die here in these filthy, mud-covered clothes while the rest of the camp cheered on outside.

“Keep breathing for me, Nurse. You’ve got an entry and an exit wound, you just stay with us now.” Chalmers barked firmly and you managed a brief nod despite the shakes that seemed to want to rattle your bones. “Fitz go find out if they’ve got a Medic with them – we need sulfa and plasma, and she needs an aid station and surgery.”

“Sir!” He replied before you heard his frantic footfalls leave the tent.

Menzies applied a ruthless amount of pressure to the front and back of your hip and it was all you could do not to wail pathetically at the lances of pain that shot through you. “I know, Nurse, I know. For your own good, now. Why’d you have to go and get yourself shot in the middle of our liberation, hm?”

“Libe.r.ation?” It was difficult to form the word, your mouth clumsy and filled with cotton, head buzzing with adrenaline and pain.

Your heart was beginning to lose its rhythm, stuttering and skipping beats every so often. Your medical training offered a whispered explanation of ‘blood loss’ which did nothing for the suffocating feeling of panic in your chest.

“Looks like your American Army showed up to bring you home, so let’s make sure you can get there alright?” Chalmers added firmly and you nodded again, trying to take deep breaths.

You were so close. They were right there.

What had started as a frigid day seemed to be growing colder, your fingers tips positively icy by the time you heard Fitzgibbons return, giving someone a rundown. The familiarity of it made your heart ache for a simpler time when the two of you were the ones saving people, taking them from danger to safety. Now you were the one in peril, finding it remarkably difficult to keep your eyes open. The unfamiliar face of a young man in an Army helmet came into view before you felt the sting of sulfa on your wounds.

Your left sleeve was rolled up, your nonsensical protests going unheeded as the man began to search for a vein, inserting an IV for the bottle of cheery yellow plasma – the bright color anachronistic to the monochromatic color palette that pervaded the Stalag. Bandages were wrapped tightly around your middle once more and they were just about to lift you, cot and all, when another set of heavy footfalls sounded on the floorboards.

“Jesus christ…angelfish…” Bucky’s voice was unmistakable, though anguished, and you rolled your head to the side to look at him with a weak smile.

“Bucky.” You managed to form his nickname at a volume no more than a whisper, vision narrowing in on his pinched, tight features, the normally rosy hue completely drained from his cheeks.

Suddenly everything tilted and whirled as your cot was hoisted onto the shoulders of Chalmers, Menzies, Fitzgibbons, and the Medic.

“Take the plasma, Egan. Hold it up, keep pace.” Chalmers ordered sharply and the ceiling of the tent began to blur as they rushed out into the daylight, your vision going completely white before all was darkness.

------------

The morning had seemed like any other, crowded around a small campfire trying to keep warm, trading suppositions about the end of the war with Jefferson, when the unmistakable sound of an aircraft engine had broken through the din of the camp.

“Hey Macon, that’s a P-51!” Jefferson had shouted and instantly the entire population was on their feet, cheering on the pilot as he took out on of the guard towers.

Their elation was short lived, the abrupt sound of incoming artillery sending all the prisoners into the dirt as every single German soldier seemed to open fire as one, the camp instantly an active battlefield. Bucky’s eyes strayed to the hospital tent, its canvas walls helplessly pinned between the encroaching American tanks and the defending German guards. They needed to put a stop to this from the inside before any more lives were needlessly lost. Even as this thought crossed his mind, men were falling all around him.

“Fellas! Take out the tower!” Bucky shouted as he ran for the tent where the majority of the Americans were sheltering, seeking out the homemade stars and stripes they had carefully crafted and transported from camp to camp, kept hidden from goons, just for such an occasion.

It took a few tries before Jefferson successfully came up with the flag, passing it to him quickly. Dashing through the chaos of prisoners running hither and thither through the camp, some fleeing, some fighting guards, Bucky was boosted onto the roof of the administration building. The flagpole was less than sturdy as he climbed it but as he removed the Nazi war flag and tossed it to the cheering crowd below, the guns fell quiet. Securing the ragtag American flag, watching the breeze immediately catch and fly it high, an immense feeling of relief wash through him and after taking a moment to celebrate, he pressed his forehead to the hand-hewn timber of the pole to soak in his gratitude for making it this far. Though the ragged appearance of his country’s flag undoubtedly mirrored his own.

As he carefully climbed down the rickety pole, his eyes caught on a somewhat familiar figure running frantically through the crowd toward the gate, moving against the flow of those milling around the yard, celebrating. The man’s shouts carried intermittently on the wind across the crowd and Bucky managed to pick out “Medic,” his heartrate picking up at the word “Nurse.” His stomach dropped when the word “shot” reached his ears.

“Angelfish.” He whispered and quickly scrambled his way off the roof, wincing a little at his rough landing, before he began to shove his own way through the oblivious celebrants towards the hospital.

Skidding to a stop on the threshold of the tent, he was startled to find all the patients cowering beneath their cots while you lay on one of their abandoned beds, a bloody mess surrounded by men frantically trying to save you.

“Jesus christ…angelfish…” He choked out, throat clenching painfully as your head lolled to the side, slightly unfocused eyes meeting his.

“Bucky.” Your faint whisper of his name propelled him forward, a frown settling over his features at the state of your clothes, wanting nothing more than to cover up the expanse of your abdomen and the scar on your arm – you surely hated to have that so prominently on display.

Chalmers’ sudden directive for him to manage the plasma grabbed his attention and he quickly grasped the glass bottle, holding it high as they lifted the entire bed to begin carrying you out of there.

“Just hold on, angelfish.” He rasped, heart lurching painfully as your eyes rolled back in your head, your body going slack.

Running alongside you to the gate despite the way his lungs ached, the crowd mercifully parted before their odd little group. A jeep was waiting with a stretcher strapped to the back, and Bucky watched helplessly as your unsettlingly limp form was transferred from the cot, the bottle of plasma wrenched from his fingers by the Medic before he perched atop your legs. As the vehicle took off, the Lieutenant Colonel of the armored division strode over sternly.

“How the devil did a nurse end up as a POW?” He demanded as Lieutenant Colonel Clark came to stand on Bucky’s right.

Chalmer’s sighed deeply before sharing what he knew of your story, of your arrival back in January including the fact that the Red Cross was informed through the usual process, and how you were housed separately in the hospital. As Fitzgibbons, the very same surgical technician you had earned your burns pulling out of your plane, filled in the rest of your service history, Bucky could only reflect on how little he really knew you. How short his time with you had actually amounted to be. Hell, he would not have even known your squadron number if it was not for that conversation right then.

“What a SNAFU.” The man muttered and Bucky could certainly see the resemblance of the man’s commanding officer, Patton, in him. “Well, let’s get this formal surrender over with so we can get these boys home.”

Clark nodded in return and Bucky shuffled back to sit heavily amongst the men of the 100th, waving off Brady’s look of concern. Watching the salutes and handshakes, he was completely numb, his thoughts miles away with wherever they had taken you, only able to hope against hope that their aid station was of the highest calibre.

Bucky had not resorted to prayer often throughout the war. Sure he had worn a crucifix and crossed himself reflexively when flying into a hail of flak, but conversations with higher beings had never been something he had put much stock in. Faced, now, with this gnawing feeling of helplessness, your very survival in the balance, it seemed like the only tool left at his disposal.

Crammed into the tent that night, shoulder-to-shoulder with his neighbors, he felt rusty and self-conscious as he addressed the god of his childhood Sunday school and fairly begged for you to make it. He stopped short of bargaining his own life away, but barely, before sleep overtook his aching body, the exertions of the day overtaking him.

As he found himself jostling in the back of a transport truck on his way to Paris the next day, handpicked by Lieutenant Colonel Clark to be among the first sent back to England, he could not help but feel as though he was being driven further and further away from you. It was near night by the time they pulled into the base and Bucky took his first warm shower in over a year, changing into a fresh uniform and feeling almost human. They were served white bread that might as well have been cake, with steak and eggs that were too rich for him to endure more than a few bites before he crawled into a remarkably clean bed and slept deeply, exhaustion winning out over his continuous concern for your well being.

Climbing into the belly of a B-17 for the first time in over eighteen months felt awkward and painful, the crew from the 100th consisting of unfamiliar replacements, the space feeling more cramped than it ever had as he wedged himself into the cockpit behind the pilot. The deep-seated terror he had desperately been trying to supress, his fear that Buck had not made it to safety despite their planning and the beating he had taken to distract the guards, surged to the fore of his mind. It competed ruthlessly with his anxiety over whether you were still drawing breath, the fact that he may have to face the truth of losing both of you leaving him silent and withdrawn as the plane took flight.

There was no immediate answer awaiting him at Thorpe Abbotts either, no familiar faces lining the tarmac – not even Lemmons was around, which struck him as unsettlingly odd. Making his way to the CO’s hut, his eyes at last landed on a familiar face as Herrmann emerged from one the equipment sheds.

“Hey Winks! Where is everybody? Guy comes back after a year-and-a-half and no one’s around?” He plastered on a playful smirk as the boy’s face broke out into a grin of astonishment, shaking his hand vigorously as he rushed over.

“Buck took Rosie, Douglass, Croz, and Kenny up on one of those mercy missions they’ve been practicing for, they should be back any time now, sir. Gosh it’s great to see you back here.”

Bucky’s attention immediately snagged on the first name Herrmann mentioned, finding it immensely difficult to continue listening as he exhaled half of the tension that had strangled him all the way across the English Chanel. “Good to be back, Winks. Think you can give me a lift?” He raised an eyebrow, desperate for a moment of levity.

With a quick nod, Herrmann was promptly driving him towards the control tower. The most difficult part of getting up there was making it past all the congratulatory pats and handshakes, but Bucky was able to pull off his surprise, the sound of Cleven’s voice over the radio going a long way to mending some of the deep wounds he was still sporting.

More handshakes and pats-on-the-back awaited him at the hardstand and it finally felt like he was back amongst the familiar faces of these men. He did not miss the way Cleven’s eyes were quietly scrutinizing him, however. The gratingly familiar feeling that his friend was looking right through him was undeniable as he joked and smiled with the boys who had never been imprisoned. Who had not endured the things they had. As the crowd around them thinned out, Bucky turned to watch Cleven pull out one of his toothpicks, sliding it between his molars in a familiar yet long-lost motion.

“So what you been up to since I left?” His friend asked.

Bucky swallowed and shrugged a little walking over to the jeep, Cleven immediately sliding into the passenger’s seat out of habit.

“That terrible, huh?” Cleven muttered and Bucky sighed as the vehicle roared to life.

“Ended up in Moosburg.” He started out slow, with simple facts. “Got a little hurt on the way, so Brady and Hambone took me to the hospital. Turns out there was a Nurse there, POW since January.”

The look of shock on his friend’s face registered in the corner of his eye and Bucky did not have the heart to fully face him.

“The German’s held a woman prisoner?” Cleven shook his head with a sigh of dismay.

“She got shot during the liberation, stray bullet. Medics from the armored division took her and I have no idea if she made it.” Now that he had started telling the story it all just came pouring out of him.

“You care about her more than just on moral grounds.” Cleven stated matter-of-factly and Bucky sighed as he pulled up in front of what used to be their hut.

Who knew if it still was.

“Yes.” He begrudgingly admitted, though his admission was addressed to the steering wheel.

There was a long, drawn-out silence, the incessant chirping of sparrows filling in the gap in conversation and Bucky realized he had not really heard a bird his entire time in captivity. His head snapped sharply to look at Cleven as he suddenly spoke again.

“If anyone can find someone in the chain of evacuation it’ll be Smokey.”

Bucky furrowed his brows a moment before it clicked. “Doc Stover? You think?”

Cleven shrugged. “He’s our best shot I guess.”

“Our…”

“Are you going to drive us to the hospital, or should I?”

A grin pulled at Bucky’s lips as he started the jeep back up and took a sharp U-turn, heading for the base hospital. He pretended not to notice the way his friend’s eyes lingered on the stiff movement of his body as he climbed out of the jeep – he was definitely sore but was most certainly not going to admit to it. The wards were just as populated as they had been in 1943, something he found rather infuriating. It was another feeling he tucked into a neat little package and shoved down to be ignored until a more convenient time. Or perhaps never to be acknowledged again.

Stover was easy to find, dressed in his white coat, just finishing his rounds.

“Majors, what can I do for you?” He gestured for them to follow him into his office and Bucky sank down into a chair heavily, once again ignoring another man’s assessing gaze on him.

“Well it’s an odd request really but…” He trailed off, hesitating as he smoothed his too-long hair, reflecting once again that he needed a proper haircut.

“We’re wondering if you might be able to track someone down for us. Someone who was injured at a camp in Moosburg and evacuated to an aid station.

Stover raised an eyebrow curiously. “One of your fellow POWs?”

“Something like…. well yeah, she is.” Bucky corrected himself midway through, watching the doctor’s eyebrows shoot up dramatically. “Flight Nurse from the 802nd MAES, POW at Moosburg since January of ’45, shot during liberation and taken to the aid station of Patton’s 3rd Army – armored division. Which division I don’t know.”

They watched as Stover quickly grabbed a pen and started jotting down the important details, including your name.

“How bad was she hurt?” Stover asked and Bucky swallowed tightly.

“I didn’t see it happen but there was a gunshot to her stomach somewhere. They got her on plasma quickly.” He added hopefully but Stover’s face remained grim.

“I can’t promise you anything Major Egan, it doesn’t sound particularly hopeful either, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Doc.” He nodded, leveraging himself out of the chair with a barely concealed wince.

“And what do you have going on?” Stover stayed seated, eyeing him expectantly.

Bucky noticed Cleven had not budged either, the bastard. Emptying his lungs with a heavy exhale, Bucky put his hands on his hips and shrugged.

“Couple of broken ribs, I’ll be alright.” He replied nonchalantly.

“And how old are these broken ribs?” Stover prodded and Bucky ignored Cleven’s pointed look up at him.

“Couple weeks, I’m halfway mended, just overdid it getting in the fort to come back.”

Stover rose from behind his desk and opened a cabinet, fetching a bottle and holding it out to him. “Aspirin, to keep you comfortable. Take two every four hours as long as you need. Come back if you run out.”

Bucky accepted the bottle with a nod of thanks, the memory of you scrounging up two rare pills for him in the Stalag flooding back, furrowing his brows. The things you could have done in a place like this with limitless supply.

“Thanks again, Doc.” Cleven’s expression of gratitude pierced through his reminiscing and Bucky nodded quickly, tucking the pills into his pocket before heading out quietly.

Accommodations were procured and there was not much for him to do around base aside from rest and learn how to eat properly once more. It took several days for any news of your condition to reach him, via Stover’s connections, but when the man pulled him into his office on the morning of the May 5, he was stunned to learn that not only were you alive, but that you had been air evacuated to Redgrave Hospital just thirty minutes away from Thorpe Abbotts.

You were safe. You were close.

“Seems they weren’t quite certain what to do with her, but as she serves under the Army Air Force, they sent her to our main hospital.” Bucky realized Stover was still talking and he shot him a warm grin before grasping his hand to shake firmly.

“Well I really appreciate your help, Doc. I’ve gotta…” Bucky glanced over his shoulder at the door, desperate to make his way to you.

“Yeah, go…” He chuckled and shooed him out of his office.

No longer a squadron commander, Bucky technically did not have a jeep of his own to disappear with off base and so he was in the process of grabbing one of the stray bikes outside the control tower when Crosby emerged into the daylight, eyes squinting in fatigue at the brightness.

“Where are you off to Major?”

“Redgrave Hospital!” He replied brightly, watching the younger man blink.

“Sir that’s a good eleven miles, that’s a terrible idea with your ribs.”

Word seemed to have spread fast…

“Take my jeep, I’m not gonna need it today.”

“Croz, you are a lifesaver.” Bucky dropped the bike he had been wrangling to slap him on the back before diving into the jeep allotted for use by the Group Navigator. “I’ll be back!” He shouted, taking off in a spray of dust and gravel.

Turning onto the two-hundred-acre country estate, Redgrave Hospital, consisting of nearly forty Nissen huts, stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the trees and landscaped green. As he pulled up to the headquarters of the hospital, Bucky quickly realized that the staff there were not nearly as excited to see him. In fact, they were downright reluctant to allow him in to visit you, but assured him that while you were ‘heavily medicated and resting’ you were still ‘on the mend.’

While relief still permeated his system, it was a new agony to have you so very close and yet still out of his reach. If they were not going to permit him as a regular visitor, Bucky realized he was going to have to get a lot more creative in order to lay his eyes on you, and until he did, there would be not real peace.

------------

Moments of clarity punctured through the blackness – a blur of trees, the flurry of activity of an aid station, the masked face of a surgeon speaking to you reassuringly, the heartbreakingly familiar interior of a C-47 – but it was not until you were settled in a bed inside a hospital with four walls, windows, and nurses that true cognizance really returned to you. Casting your eyes around the sterile, white space, you noted you were situated at the end of a row and walled off from other patients with a set of privacy screens. The most striking feature of this hospital was the very stern-faced Bucky parked in a chair to the left of your bed.

As you began to stir, his eyes lifted quickly to meet yours, some of the tension easing from his frame. “Have a good rest, angelfish?” he whispered, and you furrowed your brows up at him, so full of questions. “They got you on the good stuff don’t they.” He chuckled fondly, reaching out to brush his fingertips across your cheek tenderly.

“Kick a girl when she’s down, why don’t you.” You sighed, speech slightly slurred from pain medication and the dryness in your mouth, but still capable of using his own lines against him.

His resulting grin contained all the brilliance of the sun and made you look down with a self-satisfied smirk. Your eyes immediately fell on your exposed arms laying atop the blanket, the scarring along your left forearm lain bare for all to see. Jerking your hands back roughly, you clumsily tried to shove them beneath the covers despite the warmth on the ward. Bucky’s gentle tut before his hand came to rest atop yours halted your attempt.

“Shhh, you’re just fine you brave, beautiful woman. Stay right there.” He murmured as he laced his fingers with yours, pinning your arm to rest above the blanket. “You have nothing to hide or be ashamed of.”

Swallowing thickly, you slowly lifted your gaze to meet his. “I think I’ve acquired a few more…” You sighed, the feeling of thick bandages padding your hip acutely registering as you spoke.

“Probably.” He nodded softly. “You also probably saved that boy Hernandez by taking the bullet, so I’d say they were well earned. Besides, they’ll make an excellent target for my mouth one day.”

Your soft smile transformed into a look of disbelief, your free hand rising to whack his shoulder gently. “John Clarence Egan.” You chided half-heartedly and he pressed his face to the side of your head where it lay propped up against several pillows, his heavy exhale ruffling through your hair. “We are in a hospital, and you are making inappropriate jokes.”

“Mmmm.” He hummed in agreement, stroking his thumb against yours affectionately.

“Which hospital is this, anyway?” You asked curiously, finding its curved roof and white walls lacked distinguishing features.

“Redgrave Hospital, you serve in the Army Air Force after all.” He pulled back slightly to answer.

“Redgrave…” you repeated thoughtfully. “Sounds awfully English.”

“Hit the nail on the head, angelfish. We made it.” Bucky’s lips brushed against your temple, and you smiled softly. “Despite our best efforts.” His teasing made you laugh softly, and you shook your head.

“If we’re in England, where’s the King?” You raised an eyebrow expectantly and he smirked, shaking his head.

“No King, unfortunately, but I did bring you this?” He reached behind him, pulling out a newspaper to lay across your lap.

“Victory in Europe.” You read the headline aloud, pausing a moment as the words sunk in before gasping and looking to him wide-eyed. “Truly?”

A look of solemn earnestness overtook his features and he nodded softly. “Truly. German army surrendered yesterday.”

You gulped roughly and looked back to ready to date of May 8, 1945, on the top of the paper – you had lost nearly nine days. You really had been so close, everyone had. And the fact that you were here, and others were not seemed so very arbitrary. Sighing heavily, you squeezed his hand gently.

“By the skin of our teeth.” You murmured thickly, looking up as a nurse shuffled past with a faint nod of acknowledgement before making a sharp about-face to come and check your vitals.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked you and you nodded slowly.

“I’m alright, thank you. Bit foggy but things are the clearest they’ve been in days.”

“I’m going to fetch the Doctor.” The nurse turned to eye Bucky sharply. “You’d best make yourself scarce.” She commented before continuing on her way.

“How on earth did you get in here?” You raised an eyebrow as you came to realize how unusual his presence was.

“Bought my way in with a few bottles of champagne – your flightless comrades are quite friendly if one knows the price.”

You coughed out a laugh as the comment made Nurses sound like some species of bird and his lips twitched into a smile, your eyes unable to look away from the soft, rosy skin of his mouth.

“Hey before you go…”

“Hmmm?” He turned to you, half risen from his chair.

“I don’t have the mental capacity to think of something self-deprecating right now, so can I just get a kiss?” You murmured before pursing your lips shyly.

His face transformed into a warm smile, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as the tips of his ears flushed pink. “I always said you just had to ask, angelfish.”

Echoing his smile, you turned your lips up expectantly as he braced his hand on the pillow beside your head, leaning in to gently brush his lips against yours, drawing a contented sigh from deep beneath your breastbone. Bucky’s lips pressed closer, a tender hum rumbling from his throat just as a sharp cough sounded from the end of the bed and he slowly pulled back with a rueful huff.

“Just checking her breathing, Doc.” Bucky grinned wolfishly as the man raised an eyebrow sharply. “She’s doing great.”

“Hn.” The doctor intoned, clearly unimpressed. “And how are your ribs doing, Major Egan?”

Inhaling sharply, you looked him over quickly, the litany of his injuries flooding back to you from your sub-conscious.

“Much better, thank you Doc. Who knew Smokey was such a gossip. Well, angelfish,” he brushed his knuckles down your cheek, “guess that’s my cue.”

Nodding slowly, wondering who on earth Smokey might be, you watched him leave before your Doctor took over, running through numerous checks with you before discussing the extent of your injury and the surgeries that had been performed to save your life. It was nothing short of remarkable, what they had thrown at you to prevent your death, the conversation a very sobering one. It would be a long road to recovery, and one, it turned out, you would mostly be taking back home in the United States.

After a week or so in Redgrave Hospital, you were deemed fit enough for transport back to the Zone of Interior for convalescence and recovery in a domestic hospital. Though the sympathetic nurses had not seen fit to permit Bucky onto the ward again, they had taken a shakily written note, the loss of strength you had suffered in just over a week was startling, and promised to deliver it to him. The trip via Prestwick to Greenland, then Newfoundland, and ultimately Grenier Field in New Hampshire felt luxurious on the much more spacious C-54. You were admitted to the Station Hospital there to continue your recovery and rehabilitation, enjoying phone calls with your family instead of delayed correspondence for a change.

It took two months for you to be fully back on your feet, back to yourself. The same amount of time, it seemed, for the 100th bomb group to be repatriated stateside. Freshly discharged and clad in a brand-new olive drab dress uniform, proudly bearing your silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia following your promotion and the ribbons from your two purple hearts, you had sweet-talked your way back onto the base. One of the more sympathetic MPs who had heard your story – admittedly there were few in New Hampshire who had not heard your story at this point – had not even protested your request. It seemed that fate saw fit to land Major John Egan in your life a second time, with Grenier Field the destination for his bomb group on their return flight.

Standing in the warm summer breeze, watching the sky for the silhouettes of their planes, it honestly felt odd to be wearing a skirt. The complexity of affixing your stockings to the straps of your garter belt had briefly made you long for the convenience of slacks, but with your properly cut and styled hair and feminine clothing you felt like an entirely new woman as you stood outside on the grass with the ground crew. Would Bucky even recognize you?

At last the distant droning of aircraft engines reached your, and everyone around you’s, ears, the shapes of B-17s multiplying on the horizon before they began to circle in for a landing. Honestly, there were so many of them you briefly doubted you would be able to find him with any manner of efficiency. Clamping a hand over your officer’s cap to hold it in place as a plane taxied onto a nearby hardstand, your eyes began to scan the crowd of men as they filtered past, surely headed for the mess hall or officer’s club. Catch a glimpse of those unmistakable ears, you stepped forward and called out to him.

“John Clarence Egan!”

His head whipped around so fast he nearly took out the man walking beside him.

“Do I really look so different in a skirt that you would walk right by me?” You teased fondly.

“Angelfish!”

His flight bag hit the asphalt with a sickening ‘crunch’ that had you worried for its contents, but the impact of his body against yours drove that thought quickly from your mind. Wrenching his cap from his head he tilted his face to nestle beneath the brim of yours and kiss you soundly. Distantly, you were aware of all manner of cheers and wolf-whistles from his comrades, but you were too busy clutching at his shoulders to truly mind.

“How did you-? What are you-? God, it’s good to see you.” He rambled before pressing his mouth against yours firmly, not even giving you the opportunity to reply.

Laughing brightly into the kiss, you became vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps approaching much nearer and pulled back slowly, smiling fondly as Bucky’s lips made as if to chase yours, but his friend’s question interrupted him.

“You gonna introduce us, John?” A tall blond man with striking blue eyes and a pair of unsettlingly symmetrical facial scars asked sardonically.

Bucky cleared his throat and stepped back, though you noted his arm slid around your waist in a rather proprietary move. You found you did not mind in the least, particularly as your fully healed wound gave no protest of pain whatsoever.

“Angelfish, this Gale Cleven – call him Buck, Robert Rosenthal – Rosie, and Harry Crosby – Croz.” He followed up by introducing you by your full name.

“He give you that nickname, too?” The one he told you to call ‘Buck’ raised an eyebrow and you laughed.

“It’s a long story….”

-------------------------

The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @luminouslywriting, @softspeirs, @sunny747, @storysimp, @slowsweetlove, @httpsmoon, @buckysegan, @justheretoreadthxxs, @precious-little-scoundrel, @jointherebellion215, @timetowastetime8, @mads-weasley

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (Prologue)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time

A/N: We start slow to get to know them and their backstory. In this part it's Bucky.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes lost so much in his life that he doesn’t even know how he keeps on going. 

He lost his family. 

He lost his life. 

He lost his arm.

He lost his freedom. 

He lost himself. 

He lost his best friend. Steve Rogers - the only person connecting his past with his present. The one promising him till the end of the line. Well, the line wasn’t very long he thinks ever so often.

He walks the streets in a place he doesn’t recognize anymore. In a world that is so different from the one he used to know.

Before Hydra everything was simple.

Now, strangers stare at him, whispering behind his back while others ignore him. 

Bucky is not the most social person. He mostly stays to himself. Who wants to befriend the former winter soldier anyway? 

In his opinion, it’s for the best to not even try. This doesn’t mean that he never feels lonely. He often strolls through town and watches people with their families.

Bucky wishes he could’ve someone by his side too. A woman who doesn’t judge him for his past, or for the issues he still has.

How does a super-soldier and former brainwashed killer find such a woman? 

No woman will ever let him protect and spoil her. That’s all he wants. Find a pretty doll to take care of.

“Coffee. Black,” Bucky gruffly tells the barista his order. All the different drinks on their menu confuse the super-soldier. Why drink an iced coffee with some crazy flavor if you can have the best drink in the world? Black coffee.

The barista smiles at him. Her cheeks dimple and she batts her long fake lashes when Bucky holds her gaze for a moment.

“Thanks,” he pays and tips her well. Bucky may be a lot of things, but he isn’t the kind of person who does not appreciate other people’s work.

“Have a good day,” the woman chirps when he turns around to leave the cafe. Bucky doesn’t react. He stops in his tracks as someone else catches his attention. 

“Doll,” Bucky gasps loudly. The woman passing the coffee shop by is the one he almost ran into last month. This must be fate. Right? 

He walks out of the coffee shop, to follow the woman. She’s greeting the elderly owner of the bookstore Bucky discovered a few weeks ago. 

The man immediately smiles and straightens his back. He makes a joke and calls her by her name. “Hello Y/N!” The man says and waves back.

“Y/N,” Bucky murmurs your name. “Wow…doll…” He’s taken aback. His heart sped up for a second seeing you again. Now that he has heard your voice, he wants it to be the only sound he’ll hear for the rest of his life.

He strolls past the bookstore and follows you along the street. Whenever you stop to look at the window display at the different stores you must pass by to reach your home, he stops too and pretends to be interested in the products he’ll never buy.

At the end of the street, Bucky tilts his head to watch you walk away. He’ll wait a little longer to follow you. The experienced super-soldier doesn’t want to draw attention toward him. He doesn't want to scare you off. All he wants is to get to know you better…

Right across the street. You live right across the street. 

Bucky’s heart did somersaults when he followed you to your home only to realize that you were living in the building across the street. 

He didn’t try to make friends or to get to know his neighbors. This way he missed that he could look inside your windows.

It’s five hours later that he’s sitting on a chair, in a dark room to watch you talk on the phone. You wrinkle your forehead and close your eyes.

“Hmm…I think she’s having a bad day, Alpine,” Bucky tells his cat while following your every move with his brand-new binoculars. “Maybe we should do something nice for her. Like finding out who made her sad…”

And just like that, Bucky has a new mission...

Part 1

Tags in reblog.

[aurumacadicus]

159 or 139 for the ficlet please!

(Also, do these numbers correspond or a prompt or are we just winging it here, curious minds would like to know how this lottery is working 🧐)

These numbers correspond to a prompt set which I can post a link to after this is done but I wanted the randomness of it. No offense but you guys always go for the same prompts (which don't get me wrong, make sense for the characters/my writing) but I wanted to stretch some writing muscles!!!! So I anonymized the list :3c

--

Steve groaned when he realized he couldn't ignore the constant pinging of his phone anymore. It had well and truly rung through his half-dozing state. He pushed himself up, popping each vertebrae as he attempted to blink the sleep out of his eyes, then yawned, loud, and scrubbed at his eyes.

He took a glance around his room, then squinted in confusion when he saw his lamp had been knocked off the bedside table, there was a... sock? On the ceiling fan? And the ceiling fan was askew, the edges of the blades scraping the paint off on one side and nearly low enough to clip his hair on the other. He stared at it, mouth hanging open in confusion, especially as it finally registered that it was not a sock hanging from the fan, but a ripped pair of tights.

Steve grabbed his phone, still staring at the tights, as he wondered how, exactly, they'd been ripped right down the middle of the crotch and where, exactly, the other half was. He found it as he rolled onto his back to check his phone, one end tied to the foot board of his bed, the other tied around his ankle. He blinked slowly, then thumbed his phone open, peering at the notifications.

[Bucky] If you don't respond, I'm calling the cops

Steve blinked again, then sent a simple 'responding' and scrolled up to see what was going on. He came to the conclusion that he'd disappeared halfway through a party. Bucky and Natasha's engagement party, maybe? They were celebrating something, he remembered. The first messages has been teasing, calling him a curmudgeonly old man, then jokes about him getting lucky, then concern as he'd never replied to any of them. He flipped back to Bucky's messages.

[Me] Yo what happened My lamp's broken? And my ceiling fan? I'm tied to the bed kinda.

He looked around again just for good measure, then did a double-take at his sheets. He snapped a picture and sent it along as well.

[Me] Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.

Bucky's response came only a few seconds later.

[Bucky] Oh my god the stripper??????????????! I wondered what happened to him!!!!!!

"The stripper?" Steve asked, squinting at the screen in confusion.

The door to his bathroom opened, and a man stepped out, naked as the day he was born. He was beautifully damp. He had a towel wrapped around his hair. Steve understood, suddenly, why half a pair of tights were on the ceiling fan. He immediately wanted to fuck this man so athletically that the other half snapped off his leg and flew onto the ceiling fan too.

"I ordered breakfast," the man said casually, pulling a duffel bag from... somewhere. "It should be here in about fifteen minutes. I'm Tony, by the way," he added, picking a pair of briefs out of the bag.

"You don't have to put those on, Tony," Steve offered, instead of doing the polite thing of offering his name back, or asking if he wanted anything else.

Tony let out a bark of laughter. "Just as charming as last night," he teased, shaking his head.

God, Steve hoped he'd been charming last night. "So... were we introduced last night?" he asked carefully. "And you thought I forgot your name?"

"I was introduced as Bambi last night," Tony said, offering him a smirk. "And you waxed poetic about my big brown eyes until I basically had no choice but to fall into bed with you."

"Bambi," Steve repeated, and then, louder, "Ooooh, Bambi." Suddenly he remembered exactly what had happened last night, up to and including how his room had gotten messed up, and it had started with Tony finally asking, 'Does that make you Faline? Or are you more of a Ronno?' and Steve just picking him up and carrying him toward the door as Tony giggled in his arms.

Well. Food was coming. He'd have time to convince Tony he was more than just a fan of brown eyes. Tony had a cheeky smile. He found those always seemed to get him into trouble in the best way.

[upontherisers]

in the cold spring

a/n: i'm in a writing mood recently! disclaimer: i haven't read mota or on a wing and a prayer yet so i do not know anything about jack kidd's life beside what is available on the 100th bomb group's website, so consider some details ~exaggerated for dramatic effect~. title is from ml burch's "i feel like giving you things" and this fic is about neither the cold or the spring, but it fits.

Goddamn Air Exec. 

Jack says goddamn Air Exec from the moment Bucky tells him that Hughlin recommended him, through two rounds of meetings with Harding—call me Chick—and Bowman—call me Red, through moving into the ops barracks, through shaking a thousand hands, and through getting a desk. Goddamn Air Exec. Goddamn Egan, goddamn Hughlin, and goddamn Air Exec.

His crew, his fort, and his dignity all because Bucky purposely flunked out of the tower. And Buck vouched for him! Goddamn Cleven and goddamn Air Exec. All of his training out the window for a desk in a corner office. He can’t even see the runway through the blinds, just the backroads of East Anglia and occasionally the Land Army girls and their cows. Five hundred hours of flight school for a desk in a corner office and a secretary.

“A secretary?” he asks as Harding points at a small station outside Jack’s newly-labeled office.

Chick nods. “Yes, Lieutenant Keene.” He looks around the busy floor, eventually settling on who he’s searching for. “There she is… Hazel!”

A head pops up from the mass of moving bodies and paper and a woman quickly makes her way across the room, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. As she approaches, she’s smiling with a brightness that goes all the way to her warm, round brown eyes, hand outstretched for another yet another handshake. Goddamn Air Exec, but he’s less bitter about it.

“Jack, I assume you’ve met Lieutenant Keene—”

“Hazel, I insist.” Her grip is firm and as warm as her eyes.

They met the few times when he had to go to Bucky’s office—his office now—and she was waiting at her station outside. He remembers her as polite but busy, inoffensively curt. Not one of the staff who blathers away, overly chipper and overly interested in the reason for his visit, but also not one of the ones who snaps at him to sit and wait and then ignores him like he’s the reason they’re losing the war. Hazel’s friendly and effective, a good temperament for a C.O. He wonders why she’s in here and not up in the air.

“Good to see you again.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Jack, I insist.”

Her smile widens just so, and he has a feeling that they’re going to work well together.

She turns to Chick and nods to where she came from. “Last of the after actions for the 418th—” Jack pretends that doesn't hurt to hear. He should’ve been up there with his boys. Goddamn Air Exec. “—I’ll have ‘em to Sheila in fifteen, and I’ll be at my desk after that, in case you need anythin’.”

It takes him a moment to realize she’s speaking to him, and he mumbles an ‘of course’ at his shoes. He’s a man who gets waited on now; it would take some time to get used to. She departs with another smile and heads back into the fray.

As Chick leads Jack around the rest of the space, showing him charts and maps and a million other semi-familiar faces, he remains acutely aware of Hazel. She’s speaking to a WAC as they go over some maps, marking here and there, her encouraging smile no doubt prompting stellar work from the younger girl. He’s reminded of Ev, the way his friend’s genial countenance can turn a boring day kicking around the hard stand into a respite and a rough flight home from a mission into a night at a comedy club.

Then he misses his friends—Ev, Dougie, Crosby and the man the navigator has become since getting kicked off of the Crash Wagon. He misses hearing DeMarco and Cleven bicker as they climb into their fort, that damn dog never far behind as Lemmons likes to sneak him out onto the hard stand. He misses the feeling of sitting in his seat and the controls roaring to life under his fingers as he hears his crew get ready at their guns. He misses looking out the window to see Ginny settling into her cockpit to his right, grinning like it’s Christmas morning and popping her gum into her headset receiver to set off Knick Knack at her navigator’s seat.

He even misses Bucky and his plane-to-plane chatter, always vigilant, always watching out for his squadron, his group, and the rest of the wing. He misses the man Bucky can be in the air as opposed to the faux-apologetic fast-talker that landed Jack at a desk in the first place. Goddamn Air Exec.

But then he comes back to Hazel and the scrunch of her nose as she stretches her arms above her head with a yawn. She slumps back onto the desk she’s sitting on, looking around the room curiously before meeting Jack’s eyes and nodding. He nods back before Chick drags him off to some new wonder.

She’s at her desk in fifteen minutes like she told him she would be and sticks her head into his office with a smile. She smiles a lot. “I’m back. Holler if you need anything.”

By the time he can look up from the file he’s puzzling over, she breezes back to her desk and immediately busies herself at her typewriter.

He doesn’t know what to do with her. The other C.O.’s have their secretaries do the standard—take memos, keep their schedules, make coffees—but that seems insulting. She’s here to win a war; he wasn’t going to send her scrambling for sugar. On the other hand, it’s insulting not to utilize her, as sharp and reliable as she is. His father would find her a task and a ring, which he had with his last three secretaries. Jack had no intention of using his rank like that. He’ll find something for Hazel to do. It just has to be the right thing.

And he searches for too long, it seems, because after three days of greeting her when he arrives in the morning and occasionally asking her where certain stationery was stored, she steps into his office post-lunch and plops down in the chair in front of his desk with a sigh. Her eyebrows raise and she wears a bemused smile as she folds her hands in her lap. She reminds him of Bucky for a moment.

“Was it something I said?”

He shakes his head. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t notice his lack of engagement, or perhaps would lean into not having much on her plate. “I’ve never had a secretary before.”

“Most men haven’t.” She leans forward and starts picking at a chip in the wood of his desk. “Your job is my job, too.”

“You seem busy enough.” She does. Every time he looks out into the hall, she’s up to something, whether it’s at her desk, in the filing cabinets along the walls behind her, or somewhere on the ops floor. She knows what she’s doing; he’s the one who’s lost.

Her mouth purses. “Not for long. I’ll be done with the backlog Bucky left by EOD.��

“I’m sorry he left so much—”

Her exaggerated eye roll surprises him. “That’s the point, Jack. It’s too much work for any one man.”

Goddamn Air Exec.

“But that’s why you got me. We’re a team… so,” she raps his desk twice, “put me in, Coach.”

He wants to say something, to have an important Air Exec order or some example for her to follow, but as he looks into her expectant face, he comes up short. He hasn’t eaten yet today, but he’d shoot himself in the foot before he ever made her go to the mess for him. She reads him like a book, which only further rankles his sense of command.

“Well, what’s all this?” She spreads her hands over the papers in front of her.

“Interrogation logs, new crew files—” He points at a pile Chick’s aide had delivered that morning. “I need to get those back to Harding as soon as I sign them.”

“Sign ‘em now and I’ll run ‘em over.”

“No.” This is exactly what he’s been avoiding, assigning her utter tedium. 

She pushes the papers toward him. “C’mon.”

He blinks at her before opening the file. It’s some report or inventory request, or both or neither, which he has no idea why he has to sign, but he’ll do it because that’s job along with waiting around and going to briefings and briefings about briefings. Not even a week in and he was ready to crawl out of his skin or at least out the window. Chick denied both his requests to fly so he’s truly stuck in this office for who knows how long. Goddamn Air Exec.

Two signatures, three, four, five—Hazel points to hidden dotted lines, flipping through the pages without a second glance, and Jack can’t help but feel like she’s tying his shoes. That probably flew with Bucky, but it wouldn’t with him. They gave him the promotion because they knew he could do the job well and he agreed. This is something he could be good at. A team of subordinates was a perk of the job, expected for a man of such a station, and he’s grateful that folks were will to help out, but he’d grown up watching secretaries turn from aides to mother-wives and he doesn’t want that for anyone, especially a gal as nice as Hazel. He’ll find something for her to do.

He signs the last page and closes the file as Hazel stands, hand outstretched. Pausing for a moment, he doesn’t pass it over quite yet. “I don’t want you being my errand girl.”

She reaches across the desk and plucks the file from him. “It’s my job.”

She turns on a graceful heel and heads out across the floor, making it to Harding’s office and back before he could find it in him to stop staring at her confident, unaffronted gait. Bright laughter—the brightest he’s ever heard—bubbles out of her as she tucks her skirt under her thighs and takes a seat at her desk.

“You could’ve signed three more reports in the time that took me. Now I’m gonna have to wait for you.” She tsked. “Wastin’ both our time.”

She’s tying his shoes again and that lights a fire under his ass for the rest of the day. He clears the files that had accumulated on his desk plus two rounds of parts inventory from the hard stand and he gets a memo off to London requesting more birds. He feels satisfied by the time he flicks off the light and gathers his jacket and coat. It sure wasn’t flying, but it felt like making a difference all the time. He didn’t know he could do that from behind a desk.

It takes some soul-searching, but he manages to light his own fire for the rest of the week. He maintains his composure through the worst of it, a long fog delay that had half his pilots climbing into the tower to beg him for clearance, a ‘misplaced’ delivery of Mae Wests that somehow ended up with the 418th before they came to ops, and another declined request to fly from Harding. Goddamn Air Exec. 

The job gets easier each day, especially with Hazel right outside the door. It does feel more like a team than subordination as they move around each other, trading reports and memos without having to speak. Still, she’s a few steps ahead of him—coming through the door before he can call her to pick up a file, finding this or that form before he can realize he’s misplaced it—but he’s determined to catch up. He comes in early on Saturday and has the summarized after action reports in Chick’s office before Hazel’s arrived for the day. It’s a good feeling when her eyes go wide in surprise and her cheery mouth finds its usual smile.

“Well, I suppose we’re even now.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “not even close.”

If they’re really going to be a team, he’s going to even the playing field. No more having her play governess. Neither of them are here to clean up after someone else.

That evening, Hazel is leaning into Chick’s doorway as Jack leaves for the day, chatting with Sheila. 

He mumbles a ‘pardon me’ as he passes and her face lifts at the sight of him. “Major Kidd! We were just talkin’ about you.”

“You were?” he asks as they fall into lockstep on their way out. 

“We were sayin’ how nice it is to have an Air Exec who knows what he’s doin’.”

“Bucky tried his best.” He’s lying.

She knows it and she snorts. “He was fun to have around, certainly.”

It’s quiet as they walk. The flights have stopped for the day and if he strains his ears he’d be able to hear the crews working away on the hard stand, but there’s no need for that now. That’s another thing he’s learning—when he’s doing the job and when he’s not. With the warm evening air and the blazing sunset in front of them, he’s grateful for the time off the clock.

He looks at Hazel and is struck by the sight. The light washes her dark cherrywood skin in a velvet glow, sending shadows of her lashes and her nose across her face. He’s suddenly jealous of Bucky and he doesn't know why. She catches his eye and smiles. Blanching, he clears his throat and stares at the ground. His boots are the cleanest they’ve been since he’s been in England now that he’s out of the grease and dust of the planes. Goddamn Air Exec.

They’re nearly at the ops barracks when he realizes that he doesn’t know where she’s going. Does she live in the barracks? Is she one of the girls who’s at a billet in town? Why doesn’t he know? Shouldn’t he know? She’s never in the mess and is so rarely at the Silver Wings. He wonders what she does with her time. He realizes he doesn’t know much about her at all, not her hometown, her family, where she was before the Air Force. The Oberlin pennant on the wall in his office had prompted her to ask into his life, but that’s because she’s always where he is, but he’s never where she is. He wants to be.

“Where’re you headed?”

She comes to a stop. “Home.”

“Where’s that?”

Her wry smile makes his heart skip a beat as she turns down the path leading toward the enlisted barracks. “Good evening, Major.” She never calls him that.

“Some of us’ll be at the pub tonight—Chick, Red, Bucky… it’d be good to see you.” He takes a half-step toward her so as not to yell the offer, maybe she’ll take it if he’s gentle. Part of him hopes she’ll say yes. He wants time with her outside of keeping the group on its feet, just an hour to hear her laugh, to ask her where she gets that charming accent from, to ask her for a dance. Part of him hopes she’ll give him one more good smile and walk away, that she’ll remind him there are rules, lines to be maintained. He’s not going to become his father.

“Good evening,” she repeats and he watches her go. He doesn’t have time to dwell on the ache in his chest as Cros yells at him from across the way. He’ll have his night and she’ll have hers.

He’s not sure if he should apologize for being out of turn when he sees her next, clear the air and make it clear that he’s not… he isn’t going to be that man. He reasons to himself that wants to know her as a teammate, in the same way he’d come to know the members of his crew. It’s what any good leader does. There’s a short speech ready to go when he enters HQ Monday morning after seeing the forts off.

She greets him as politely as she always has, but he gets the feeling he probably wouldn’t be able to tell if she’s upset. Her cards are meticulously close to her chest while she learns about the people around her. It’d be a good quality in a C.O. He thinks of all the women he’d just sent to Norway—Ginny, Vera, Amelie, Suzanne. Hazel would fit right in.

There’s a small box on his desk, no sender address upon investigation. “Hazel?”

“Yeah?” she asks as she gets up from her desk.

“Do you know who this is from?” He’s popping open one end with his letter opener.

“Oh, well,” she starts, folding her arms and leaning against the doorframe, “it’s from my momma” Her inflection is that of an embarrassed and entertained daughter. 

A swath of white silk flutters to the floor and he picks it up. It’s a scarf decorated with rows of small and large flowers. From… from her mother?

“I—I, uh, I wrote her about you and she insisted on sending it. Bucky got one, too, when he started.”

He couldn’t recall Bucky ever wearing a scarf. “What’d he do with it?”

She scoffs. “God knows. I don’t think he remembers getting it. It was one of his… one of his mornings.”

“Hungover?”

“Still drunk.”

Closing distance, she takes the scarf from him gently and tosses it around his shoulders. She’s so near now as she starts tying it and he can look at her while she concentrates, her eyes glittering with that hope that never seems to fade. Does her mother have the same eyes? The same round apples of her cheeks, the lovely point of her chin? And her perfume, the faint hint of roses he occasionally gets during the day now in full force as she works. He feels flush and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands or where to put his eyes or what to say. A woman who’d only heard about him in letters sent her daughter to war and is sending him beautiful scarves. That’s the kind of woman who would raise Hazel.

“I always tell her that this is unnecessary, that y’all have mommas of your own to fuss over ya,” she says as she adjusts the knot at his neck and smoothes her hands over his shoulders.

“I—I don’t,” he stammers out. 

Her eyes widen and he hates the kick in his chest. “Oh, I’m—I’m so sorry, Jack, I had no idea.”

He waves her off but can’t quite find the words. There’s a yearning suddenly, one he left in the dark years ago, and he doesn’t know what’ll come out if he tries to name it. Hazel puts a comforting hand on his arm and looks at him sympathetically. “Well, I’ll tell my momma to keep sending scarves… only if—if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I could use a few more of these,” he says, glancing down at the knot at his neck. He probably looks ridiculous wearing it without the rest of his flight gear, but the accomplished smile on Hazel’s face is worth it. He’ll bear all the stares in the world if it keeps her smiling. 

She gives him one more once over before returning to her desk. “It’s a good color on you.”

“Matches my eyes?”

“Something like that.” She winks. 

His stomach flips; he thinks of his father and three weddings. 

“Oh,” she calls, “you can keep it on.”

He raises an interested eyebrow.

“The Telergma mission, you’re going. Chick sent authorization this morning.”

Three days later, Ev’s the only one who comments on Jack’s new gear after they finally get the all-clear for engine start.

“That from Franny?” his co-pilot asks. It’s a good guess; his sister would send something like it. 

“Lieutenant Keene’s mother sent it.”

Ev scoffs with a shake of his head. “Your secretary’s mother is sending you scarves? Goddamn Air Exec.”

Yeah, Jack thinks, smirking out the window and sitting a little taller. Goddamn Air Exec.

[manestjerne]

The book of regrets part one

Summary: You're an avenger, Tony's younger sister. When things finally get quiet, Bucky reaches out for you to help him.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: guns, swearing, a little angst, mentions of mental disorders, angry behavior, injuries, lying

A/N: Okay, so Steve is gone, but the endgame never happened, no one's dead, I can't cope with that, okay?

It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I lost it after around 4k words, so there'll be more parts, that's why I finally created a

masterlist

I was sitting at my desk, going through some of the newest research Bruce sent me when my phone buzzed lightly. I moved my head slightly, my thoughts still on the research shimmering on my laptop’s screen.

You up?

I locked my eyes on the notification from an unknown number, knowing it usually means trouble. I slowly wrapped my fingers around the phone and picked it up, ready to look for some info about the number, but my hand clenched tighter when it started buzzing again. I stared at the screen for a few seconds before picking up and moving it slowly to my ear, not saying anything. 

„Hey, hope I’m not bothering you too much.”

„Bucky?”

I felt my shoulders relax, not even realizing how tensed I was a moment before. The familiar voice echoed lightly in my head, he was the last person I was expecting. 

„I’m sorry.” He paused for a second and I could almost hear how his jaw clenched before he started talking again. „Remember when you said I can count on you if I need anything? That’s a perfect moment for that.”

„What did you do?” 

I whined quietly in response, knowing he’s in real bad trouble if he’s asking me for help. He never did that, it was always Nat or Wanda, sometimes the others, but he never asked me, to not put me in danger. I was wondering why did he change his mind suddenly. 

„Look, you don’t have to come, but I’d appreciate that…” He paused again like he was struggling to just talk to me. „…asshole. I’ll send you the details if you’re interested.”

I smiled to myself at the insult, knowing he’s just trying to show me that he doesn’t care if I come. I looked at my phone again when he hang up, waiting for some sort information about what he wanted me to do, but only an address and time showed up on the screen when I felt the little buzz. I looked at the clock. 

„Two hours, great.”

I mumbled to myself, realizing the drive will take me about an hour and a half. I stood up rapidly putting all the necessities I my bag. I was prepared for that, honestly I was waiting for something like that to happen. After Steve left, things among the Avengers got pretty quiet and I missed the rush of adrenaline I got during missions. After 15 minutes my duffel was packed and I glanced at the room one more time to make sure I didn’t forget anything. I walked out through the kitchen when I heard a voice behind my back.

„Where are you going?”

Tony asked not lifting his eyes, still focused on whatever calculations he was working on. 

„Nat’s” I shrugged my shoulders like it was supposed to get the blame of lying to him out of my head. „I’m staying for the whole weekend.”

„Just don’t get into any trouble. Love you.”

He still wasn’t looking at me, and thank God he was so focused on his work. I felt guilt crawling up my spine and folding my mind with his last words, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. He wasn’t really fond of Bucky and we would argue, which I didn’t have time for. As a brother he was just trying to protect me and I was glad he did, but he was really overreactive sometimes and I needed a break from staying at home for so long.

„Love you too.”

I mumbled before rushing to the elevator.

„Hey Nat, what are you up to?”

I asked through the hand-free set as I was driving, checking the gps way too often. 

„Not much, why?"

She laughed at my directness. 

„If anyone asks, I’m staying at your place for the weekend, okay?”

I wasn’t planning on hiding anything from her, I knew she wouldn’t snitch about it, so I just chose to say exactly what’s on my mind.

„Oh, you fucking troublemaker. What are you up to now?”

I knew she rolled her eyes as she said this. I smirked at her reaction.

„Not sure, but some grumpy old man asked for my help and I’m too bored of sitting on my ass, since you stopped taking me on missions.”

„Bucky reached out to you?” She sounded surprised, which wasn’t a common emotion for her. „Is it about the whole New Captain America shit?”

„About what?”

I froze, realizing I’m not up to speed. I spent the last few days isolated in my room, trying to help Bruce with his research, it was really time-consuming. She laughed at my reaction and I promised to give her an update when I knew more. I spent most of my ride talking to her, which was one of my favorite things. Either listening to music or talking with Natasha while driving was a perfect way to clear my mind, one of my favorite ways to escape the reality. 

„Okay, I guess I’m here.” I said when I parked my car at an empty parking lot. „I’ll update you when I know anything. Just don’t rat on me, love you.” 

„Just don’t get yourself killed, love you too.” 

She hang up as I reached for my bag and left the car, slowly looking around. It seemed like I was alone, when I spotted a warehouse in the distance. A large field was separating from what I guessed was our meeting spot, so I couldn’t get any closer with my car and decided to walk on foot, cursing under my breath when I realized how far away it was. My breathing was getting heavier with each step when I reached the warehouse, still not seeing anyone, when a firm voice behind my back snapped me back to reality.

„I didn’t think you’d come.” 

I jumped, forgetting how smooth he can be. He snuck up on be from behind without any trouble, but I blamed the exhausting walk for my distraction. 

„Why’d you call me then?”

I rolled my eyes, looking at his face as he furrowed his brows thinking about a satisfying answer. 

„Because I knew you won’t freak out.”

What he said wasn’t even a bit of a satisfying answer, I still knew shit, but I turned my back to him when I heard the large door opening, realizing we’re not alone. Seeing a familiar face put me off guard and in a second I had my gun pointed at Zemo, without even thinking about it.

„The fuck is this?”

I scoffed not lowering my gaze, feeling the blood boil in my veins. Last time I saw Bucky, I helped him chase Zemo and now he brought me straight to him.

„Relax.” He said softly behind my back. „We need him just as much as we need you. Put the gun down, murderer.”

„We?” 

I asked, but as an answer, a tall man walked out of the warehouse, going through some notes he was holding. 

„Okay, we’re all set. Are we still waiting for her or is she-„ He stopped mid-sentence when he looked up and saw me, my fist still clenching on the gun I was pointing at Zemo seconds before he came here. „Shit, sorry. Didn’t know you’re already here. Nice to see you again.”

„Uh-huh, and you are…?”

I asked carelessly and heard Bucky sigh, as he was now standing next to me. 

„Girl, we’ve literally spent like three days together when we were trying to get him his mind back.”

He said with a scowl, nodding his head in Bucky’s direction.

„Oh, yeah. Sam.” I said when I finally remembered where do I know him from. „Sorry, I wasn’t really focused on making new friends then, kinda busy with some family drama.” 

The Civil War was an awful memory for me, as I betrayed Tony by getting on Steve’s side. We worked it out after a while, well, in the end I supported the Socovia Accords, distracting the whole team and letting them go after Zemo. I spent so much time helping Steve find Bucky and then continued to risk my life by helping him, only to find out, he's the person who killed my parents. Well, not exactly, I knew the difference between Bucky and the Winter Soldier, that’s why I got over it much quicker than Tony, but it still ached my heart. I would probably do it again, I knew he deserved my help, but I wish they told me before Zemo did.

„We should get going.”

Bucky said and took the bag off my shoulder in one, smooth motion. I let him do that, now fully focused on the private jet we were walking towards. It wasn’t anything new for me, as a Stark I was used to this kind of luxury but I had to ask.

„Where’d you get that?”

„It’s mine.” 

Zemo replied calmly when we were walking up the stairs.

„Oh.”

I mumbled quietly, loosing any further interest in the jet.

I sat on the seat I found the most comfortable and Bucky threw my bag at my feet before sitting down opposite and piercing me with his gaze. I smiled softly in reply, knowing it’ll piss him off, and it worked perfectly as he rolled his eyes once I did that.

„Can you now tell me where we’re going?” 

I looked closely at Bucky for the first time I saw him. He looked pretty miserable, but that wasn’t anything new, I was more worried about the bruises and scratches all over his face, now clearly visible in the bright light. And I knew there were more, hidden under his thick layers of clothing. I flinched when Sam threw a file on my knees. I opened it up and looked through the papers. It took me some time to read it all carefully, trying to remember any details that might be useful later. My eyes were flickering between the lines, comparing a few pages at once, trying to figure out more connections than they’ve already found, but their research was pretty solid. 

„Karli Morgenthau? That kid kicked your asses?” 

I looked at Sam before trying to figure out Bucky’s expression, but none of them replied.

„Why me? Why am I so perfect for this?”

I asked pretty annoyed, since they stopped replying any of my questions. 

„Because we saw, that you know how to fight a super soldier. You proved it more than once.”

Bucky said after a minute of awkward silence. I replied him with a blank stare, knowing he’s referring to me fighting Steve, when he went too harsh on Tony, that night in Siberia.

„You don’t have to do that, we can get you a flight back as soon as we land.”

He rolled his eyes with that and I replied with a huff, bringing my knees to my chest to shift into a more comfortable position, knowing we’re going have a long flight. I closed my eyes and tried to sink in the silence, but I was feeling quite uncomfortable, so I decided to take a guess. 

„Stop staring at me, freak.”

I knew I was right, when I opened my eyes and saw the grimace on his face. Bingo. 

„I told you to stop doing that Buck, it’s freaking people out.”

Sam chuckled from the sit on my right, but my eyes were still on Bucky. He looked at Sam for a quick second, before catching my gaze again. 

„She’s not freaked out because of my staring, just geniually afraid.”

He said with a teasing grin, but I knew he was waiting for an honest answer, hoping I won’t figure that out.

„Good point, I usually don’t trust people who shot me in the past.” 

My response was calm, my hands resting in the pocket of my jumper to hide the trembling. He got abashed by that, now wondering if that’s the truth, or maybe I knew what answer he was hoping for. He was praying in his mind for me to deny, knowing we all went through a lot with him as the Winter Soldier. But in his eyes I was the most fragile one, never been on a real war, just a spoiled little girl. He gave me one more careful look, but I did everything in my power to not let him know that I’m lying. I wasn’t afraid of him, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me now. I was sure about that, but if he wanted to play that game, acting like he doesn’t care? I had no point proving him otherwise. 

„So is her name in your book too?”

Zemo was first to break the silence. Bucky snapped his head in his direction, but I said nothing, acting like I don’t care what they’re talking about. 

„It’s not.”

Bucky hissed in response. I decided to not ask any more questions, just closed my eyes and rested my head on my shoulder, hugging my knees close to my chest. I felt that I started drifting away, giving up and deciding to ask more questions about the Flag Smashers when we reach our destination. I flinched and opened my eyes, feeling a soft material suddenly landing over my head. I took it off and looked at Bucky questioningly.

„Take a nap, we have some real shit to work out.”

I responded him with a smile and covered myself with the blanket he just threw at me, but he rolled his eyes and looked away. We didn’t hate each other, it wasn’t the point, but neither of us was going to give up and we only pushed ourselves further with all the teasing. I knew he’d do a lot for me, to protect me. But still we played our characters well, acting like we hate each other, when there was no need to care. I wasn’t sure why tho, sometimes I felt like I’m just fooling myself that he actually cares about me. That I’m too worried about him, to realize that I’m not important to him at all, trying to protect my bruised ego. I let my head fall back and closed my eyes again, hoping no one will interrupt this time. 

It felt like I just fell asleep, when a strong hand landed firmly on my shoulder.

„We’re almost there.”

Sam said in a soft voice when I opened my eyes. I looked around and realized everyone is looking at me.

„What? Was I snoring?”

I asked rolling my eyes before folding the blanket and putting it back under the table.

„We were just wondering…” Zemo started slowly, I forgot how annoying his accent was. „… how many guns did you take with you?”

„What kind of a stupid fucking question is that?” I snorted „Enough, but I believe they won’t be necessary.”

„What do you mean?” 

Zemo asked confused, but I was focused on Sam, his impression turned sad quickly, lowering his gaze to the ground and shaking his head slowly.

„They’re just a bunch of kids, you’re not planning on killing them, are you?” I huffed. „I’m not an assassin, that’s not why you called me. There must be another way.”

„So you’re just going to talk them out of killing innocent people? Sounds like a good plan.”

Bucky snorted, but I knew he was on my side here.

„She’s right.” Sam said quietly when we started landing, but we all could see Zemo’s impression, he was not pleased about what we've just said. „We just have to take control of the situation and calm everything down, killing them won’t solve the problem, there’ll be more.”

„But that way we could teach them a lesson.” Zemo said carelessly. „The car is waiting.”

„Where the hell are we?” 

I asked when we left the plane. The weather confused me as the warm breeze grazed my face.

„Riga.” 

Zemo replied peacefully when we were walking towards the car.

„It’s Donya Madani’s funeral today, that’s our chance to find them.”

Sam added to dispel my doubts. The ride wasn’t long, but very quiet, too quiet for me. Living in the Avengers Tower and being so close with Tony made me used to loud surroundings. I was always complaining about that, only missing it when the silence was too long, too loud. I took my phone out of my pocket and opened the chat with Natasha.

Just tracking a bunch of rebellian kids, I’ll be fine:)

I shut down the screen and started fidgeting with my phone, when Sam finally broke the silence. 

„How’s Wanda, she was pretty broken the last time I saw her.”

I turned my head his way before noticing Zemo’s stare in the rare mirror, but I ignored it.

„She’s better now, not fine, but better. Found her peace in Vision I guess, little traitor moved out.”

He chuckled at my answer and I let out a sigh of relieve as the car wasn’t so quiet finally. 

„How’s your sister, you have one, right?”

He looked at me confused, but then probably remembered I’m a Stark, I can get information on anybody, whenever I want. He smiled softly and nodded his head. 

„Having some trouble now, but we’re trying to figure it out, only getting better.”

„I didn’t know you have a sister.”

Bucky looked at us over his shoulder, he sounded a little offended. 

„Wondering why, you two are such besties, should know everything about each other.”

I answered sarcastically and Sam snorted again. The rest of our ride was quiet again, but the atmosphere wasn’t so tensed, letting me enjoy it more, before Zemo parked in a narrow street, in front of an old, but luxury looking tenement. I lazily got out of the car, letting Sam take my bag. Our walk to the building was short, but my attention was brought by a small, silverfish ball laying at the side of the street. I took a look around carefully when we were getting closer to the entrance door, when Bucky spoke up.

„I’m gonna take a walk.”

He said casually, but I knew what his destination was. Sam and Zemo nodded, opening the door. Sam gave me a questioning stare before entering, but I didn’t move, just replied with a meaningful smile and he nodded again, closing the door behind him. I turned around when Bucky was squatting, taking a closer look to the object that brought my attention earlier.

„It’s about Zemo, isn’t it?”

He flinched at my voice, not knowing I stayed outside. 

„Go inside, I’ll do the talk.”

He rolled his eyes and turned his back my way again, starting to walk towards the nearest corner. I sighed and followed him, almost running for a moment, before catching up.

„You shouldn’t have done that Bucky, that’s too much.”

I said firmly and brought my head up to look at him, but he didn’t mind looking back.

„You think it’s not too much for me?” He sighed before honoring me with a quick glance. „We need him, he got us closer than we could’ve gone alone.”

„You could’ve just called me earlier, you know I could help.”

He stopped unexpectedly and looked me in the eyes. 

„I hoped it won’t be necessary at all, I don’t want to put you at risk again.”

„Stop acting like anything that happened there was your fault. I’m not a damn kid, I know what and when I can handle, it was my choice to help Steve and I regret nothing.”

The words coming out of my mouth quickly, he was annoying me with trying to blame himself for everything, protecting me when it wasn’t needed. 

„You should regret that, I killed your parents.” 

He replied harshly before walking away. He confused me with his words, I needed to process what he said for a few seconds before following him again. 

„You didn’t, that was the Winter Soldier and we both know the difference, so stop fucking whining, I thought you went to the therapy to work on your PTSD.”

My answer was unexpected for both of us, his flesh fingers wrapped around my jaw as I stopped talking, but I couldn’t blame him. 

„You know shit about the difference, and you’re the one whining at the moment, so just go to the apartment and let me talk to them before I lose my temper.”

His hand left my face as soon as he stopped talking, but he didn’t move, still staring at me with his cold eyes, surprisingly filled with guilt, not anger. 

„Should’ve used the metal arm, you’re not going to scare me that way.”

I shrugged my shoulders and continue walking in the direction he chose.

„I’m not trying to scare you, just stop being such a fucking tease, damn it.”

I shook my head in response when we took the corner.

„Ayo.”

I noded at her slowly.

„Miss Stark.” 

She replied politely before turning to Bucky.

„I’m here for Zemo.”

„We need him.”

I replied without hesitation, ignoring Bucky’s annoyed look.

„You shouldn’t have done that, he still has his debt to pay.”

She wasn’t looking at me and I saw a muscle in Bucky’s jaw twitch before he answered.

„I apprecieate everything you did for me, he is just a means to an end.”

His voice was calm and respectful, his eyes fully focused on the tall figure in front of us. I never saw him talking with anybody like that, wondering what exactly happened during his stay in Wakanda. 

„He killed king T’Chaka and now you set him free? After all you went through to free yourself? You chose a wrong way here.”

I saw how she brought him down with just once sentence, still acting confident, but we both saw as he just wanted to shrink and disappear to avoid continuing this conversation.

„T’Challa chose for him to live and I’ll put him back in prison myself when we’re finished.”

I responded firmly, trying to take over and not make Bucky do anything he wanted to escape at that moment.

„No.” Ayo cut me off harshly. „We’ll take care of him now. In Wakanda. Eight hours.” 

She emphasized her last words and I felt shivers crawling up my spine. As much as I respected the whole Dora Milaje, how grateful I was for what Shuri ever did for us and how much I wanted to appreciate what the last king and his whole tribe did for me when I needed it, I was scared. Their help proved how devoted they were to just live in peace, they made me respect them and all their work. I turned my back to her and started walking away, Bucky following not long after me. 

When we reached the building I rested my back on the wall near the door and went through my pockets to find a pack of cigarettes, before putting one in my mouth and lightning it. I inhaled the smoke searching for some kind of relief as it spreaded through my lungs.

„I’ll catch up.”

I noded at Bucky, but he didn’t leave, looking at me closely. 

„I thought you quit.”

He furrowed his brows and crossed his arm on his chest.

„Nasty habit.” I shrugged, letting the silence last for a few more seconds before speaking up. „I started again when Steve left.”

His gaze felt to the ground immediately, I knew how much it hurt him. They only person who really cared all these years, his only chance of finding comfort, believing he was something more than just HYDRA’s weapon, leaving as suddenly as he appeared in his life again.

„He left me something.” I said slowly putting my hand I my pocket, grabbing the cold, thin metal with my fingers, hesitating if I should do it, but I knew he deserved this piece of him back. „Here.”

His eyes widened as he saw the dog tag I was holding. Taking a closer look he could see his name engraved on it. 

„I wanted to give you this earlier, but well, never had a chance to do it.”

My fingers clenched tighter on the chain for a second, before I let him take it. He examined it closely before opening his mouth.

„Where did he got it? Why did he gave it to you, not me?” 

I knew there were much more questions in his head, but I didn’t know the answer to any of them. I sighed softly before taking another drag.

„I don’t t know. We’ll never know.”

I looked at the cigarette between my fingers, realizing I finished it much faster than I expected. I put it out in a bin and gave Bucky one more reassuring look, while he was still turning the little sheet of metal between his fingers.

„Let’s go.” I squeezed his arm softly before entering the building. 

We didn’t know how Zemo got any information about the address, but we were finally standing in front of the building, the memorial was supposed to happen in. I heard a soft, friendly voice behind my back, when we all turned to face it.

„Bucky! Sam!” The blonde man paused for a second taking a closer look at me „Miss Stark? Woah, what an honor.”

I raised my eyebrow and looked at Bucky who rolled his eyes, looking more annoyed than I’ve ever seen him.

„Who the fuck are you?”

My eyes wandered all over his body, feeling my fists clench, seeing another man wearing Captain’s America suit. He had no right to do that, he had no right to put his hands on the shield. I thought about what Nat told me earlier, the whole New Captain America shit. I never thought she’s so serious about it.

„My apologies, I never introduced myself, people mostly know me now.” He smiled showing his white teeth and I felt a grimace of disgust forming on my lips. „I’m John Walker, Captain America. This is Battlestar.”

I snorted at the little nickname his friend got for himself.

„You’re not Captain America, you’ll never be.” My voice filled with hate and disrespect wiped his smile away for a second. „And you still have the nerve to walk around with that shield on your back, you have no self respect, do you?”

I felt quiet chuckles coming from both Bucky and Sam as my anger was starting to grow every second I kept looking at the muppet standing in front of me. 

„I knew I’ll enjoy their first meeting.”

Sam whispered, but I couldn’t focus on their reactions, my knuckles starting to turn white from how hard I was clenching my fists.

„Basically, this shield is a government property, and well” he chuckled proudly „since I’m the government, I have all rights to use it.”

„This shield was made by my father and the government took the rights illegally after his death, so basically you should shut the fuck up before I lose my temper.”

Bucky groaned proudly as I repeated his words from earlier, I turned his way completely ignoring the farce behind my back.

„You’re not cooperating with them, are you?”

„Well, basically…” John started „…you have to do that, government orders.”

„You’re such a dog for mister president, huh?” I grinned through my teeth „Little muppet just following him around and completing all the orders. Just don’t get in my way or I’ll have to get rid of you, and I really worked hard on my reputation for the last few years, don’t make me ruined it again.”

I started walking towards the building, Bucky and Sam following me closely until me met with Zemo, after entering through the back door.

„Now, you don’t get in my way, or I’ll take the necessary measures.” 

He followed us inside, probably thinking of a come back the whole time.

„Yeah, arrest me, whatever. Just shut your mouth before I help you.”

I took my gun out checking again if it’s loaded, praying I won’t have to use it. 

„Excuse me” I groaned turning his way, as he had he audacity to open his mouth again. „Did you break out a prisoner? How dumb are you, bringing him to me? What is he doing here?”

„He’s definitely being less annoying than you.” I got a quiet chuckle even from Zemo this time. „He escaped alone, we had nothing to with it and you shouldn’t be worried about that.” 

„I demand your respect, you can’t treat me like that. I’m taking care of the order now, wether you like it or not, so you better-"

I cut him off with a loud laugh, but Bucky and Sam got defensive immediately, taking a step closer to him.

„She better what?”

 „Okay, you know what?” His impression turned into a fake, friendly smile again. „We should just work this out together and then I’ll arrest him. I won’t take you if you cooperate with me. So what’s the plan?”

I rolled my eyes and looked at Sam, he was the one to speak up first. 

„I’ll go talk to her, just don’t interrupt us, there has to be more than just a murderer in her, I’ll get it out.”

His words were calm and firm. He knew what he was talking about, before becoming an Avenger he used to run a therapy group for veterans, he just knew how to deal with people like her. 

„I’ll go with you, but we do that alone, no interruptions, no help, unless we say we need it. Let’s not get these kids killed.”

„He’s an ex-soldier, used to this kind of situations, who are you, thinking you can handle it?” 

John asked irritated, I knew it was only because I made demands, he was just trying to putt me off guard.

„I’m a woman, so believe me, I can talk to people better than any of you.”

I said carelessly and Bucky scoffed, I rolled my eyes at him.

„Ten minutes.”  John said taking out his handcuffs and walking towards Zemo. „And he stays here, I’ll deal with it when we’re finished.”

I followed Sam to the main hall, where Karli was standing alone, probably aware that we’re coming.

„We’re sorry for your loss.” 

Sam started when we came closer to her.

„No, you’re not.”

She scoffed angrily, taking a step back.

„Karli, we’re just here to talk, please listen what we want to say.”

„I know who you are. You’re not fond of talking, none of the Avengers are. You don’t understand what we’re doing, what we’re fighting for.”

She was frustrated and probably scared. I knew there were people watching us, making sure she’s safe. But they were hiding for now, giving us the space to continue. 

„You can’t fight for your rights by hurting other people, we’re here to help, just let us.”

I continued slowly, taking a step towards her once more, and she didn’t back off this time, I saw it as a good sign. 

„People who are getting hurt deserve it. You should know how it works.”

I sighed, I knew how many innocent people were hurt by the Avengers, by us trying to save the word, sometimes just causing more damage. I understood clearly what she was referring to. 

„You’re not making the word a better place by doing all this. We can go through it together, not killing anyone.”

She was looking less tensed as Sam was speaking, gently resting her hips on the table behind her.

„How would you like to do that? There’s no place for us, there won’t be without a war I’m about to start.”

„I'm the one to help you here.” My words were careful, trying not to offend her, but firm at the same time. „I have all you need, I have money. I understand your point of view, you’ve been abandoned after the blip, and I honestly understand what you’re fighting for, your point of view isn’t so strange to me. But there don’t have to be so many victims. Innocent victims.”

I emphasized the last words as she was listening to me more carefully now, but still not convinced by anything I’ve said. 

„That money is covered in blood, I’m not taking charity. I’m fighting for more people than you can imagine, they need me. They need my help.”

„Right now, your hands are covered in blood Karli, is that what you’re fighting for?”

She got quiet after Sam’s words. She needed a moment to process it, but she was trusting us slowly, I could see the change in her impression. I rested on the table next to her, still giving her the space to think about it, to leave it all and accept our help. Try to figure it out together, without violence and hate. Suddenly I heard loud footsteps approaching us, realizing it’s over, she won’t trust us, not now, not after what she sees. The door swung open as John entered the room.

„You traitors! I almost believed you.” 

She shouted as more people started flooding the room. She pushed me from the table I was sitting on and I landed on the ground, completely giving up, covering my face so her punches wouldn’t reach it.

„You don’t understand Karli. We’re not working with him, he’s trying to bring us down to, just listen!”

I screamed at her, refusing to his her back, not wanting to fight her. I tangled my leg with hers, bringing her to the floor as I stood up.

„Just listen.”

She looked behind me, seeing John coming our way as she jumped up and started running. 

„You fucking idiot!”

I yelled, trying to run after her, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I looked around, seeing Bucky and Sam handling it pretty well, I decided to go after John and Karli, but it was too late. I found John standing in a corridor alone, panting heavily next to a broken window.

„She’s gone.” He said between deep breaths. „She’s gone and it’s your fault.”

„We almost had it, she was talking to us, she was willing to trust us. You fucked it, not me.”

I said turning away and walking back to the main hall.

„I won’t hesitate next time I see her.”

I ignored him, walking into now almost empty room. 

„You alright?”

Sam asked when I gave him a hand to help him get up.

„Perfect.”

The three of us were walking back to the apartment alone, knowing Zemo is probably waiting for us there. Sam was walking faster, a few steps ahead of me and Bucky.

„Why didn’t you fight her back?”

Bucky asked quietly, not looking at me, but his brows were furrowed as always. I knew he was blaming himself for fighting them, when he saw me just giving up on Karli.

„Steve did the same with you, when you were the Winter Soldier. I was there to help her, not to fight her.”

He hummed in response, probably thinking about the time when he had to fight Steve, when he had the urge to kill him, but something stopped him from doing that.

„I think that’s why he gave it to me.” He was now looking at me, as I pointed my finger at the silver dog tag on his neck, shimmering lightly in the bright rays of the sun. „He wanted me to remember who you really are, to help you if you need it when he’s not around.”

„Then why’d you give it to me?”

He looked at me confused, but a soft smile started forming on his lips.

„I don’t need a reminder of who you are, but I think you do.”

[lostloveletters]

Crimson and Clover (Bucky Egan x OC)

Summary: Bucky expects a lot of things when he arrives at Thorpe Abbotts, but Holly Dean isn't one of them. He's not complaining, though.

Word count: 5.1k

Note: I wrote most of this in a notebook over the past 3 days so my hand hates me, but I hope y’all like this! This fic covers pretty much from when Holly and Bucky meet to about Damn Yankees (mid-May to mid-June). Title comes from the song (Joan Jett version, we're bisexuals here). Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Warnings: Inevitable historical and technical inaccuracies (I’m playing a little fast and loose with who was at Thorpe Abbotts early with Bucky). Depictions of grief and depression. Period typical attitudes.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Bucky asked.

“Some of the Air Exec girls are having another typing contest,” Dye said.

“Who’s the favorite to win?”

“Dean’s won the past two, but Spinelli’s pretty good.”

He was glad to have caught Lieutenant Glenn Dye when he did. The guy had been making a beeline to the Air Exec office when Bucky joined him. His first night there, and already some kind of action—socially, at least. No one had been able to tell him when exactly he’d actually get to join McDaniels’ crew on a mission, but he was itching to get up there, even despite the weariness McDaniels carried with him.

He looked a lot more relaxed in the Air Exec office, standing toward the front of the bustling chaos with Duvall, his navigator. Bucky and Dye pushed their way through the people packed in like sardines to witness the typing contest. Dread fell over Bucky for a split second. What if that was the most exciting thing going on at Thorpe Abbotts?

A shout carried over the conversations. “Last chance to place your bets, ladies and gents!”

“Over here!” Duvall fished a quarter from his pocket. “I’m in on Pinkowsky.”

“You’re throwing your money away,” McDaniels said.

Bucky pulled a crumpled dollar bill out of his pocket and placed it in the outstretched hat next to Duvall. “Put a dollar on Dean for me.”

A young woman with blonde hair in messy twin braids and oil-stained coveralls rushed over, nearly knocking into Duvall. “Hey, did I miss it?”

“Just about to start. Hey Major, have you met Woody yet?” Duvall asked.

Bucky shook his head. “Don’t believe I have.”

“Private Woodward—Woody,” she said. “I’d shake your hand, Major, but I’d probably stain it.” She held up her right hand, covered in black grime that she made some effort to scrub out before arriving.

“Major John Egan, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he said, before gesturing to the women sitting around the office. “So who’s who in this thing?”

Of the Air Exec typists, three were competing in the typing contest that night. Nancy Pinkowsky, a Floridian, sat a little toward the back of the room, as she applied red lipstick in a small compact mirror. Leona Spinelli of Newark, New Jersey, had her heels—sleek black pumps, not regulation—kicked up on the desk of one Holly Dean, straight from the nation’s capital with the brightest smile and sparkling brown eyes Bucky had ever seen in his life.

“He bet a buck on Holly to win,” Dye said.

“You bet on Holly, and you haven’t even met her yet?” Woody asked.

Bucky grinned. “Intuition. I got a good feeling about her.”

“You’re right about that.” Woody smiled. “She’s my best friend.”

His eyes scanned the room as he tried to commit faces to memory, but his gaze kept drifting back to Holly until she caught him staring and responded with a smile that he couldn’t help but return. He moved to make his way over and say something to her, but his introduction was interrupted by the announcement for the competing Air Exec girls to get to their desks, and all spectators to shut the hell up.

Holly’s eyes met his again, only to fall to the blank page in front of her when he blinked. From the sound of just three typewriters clicking away incessantly, Bucky could tell he’d end up with a headache if he stayed stuck as Air Exec, and that would be on top of the inevitable hangovers. 

Her fingers moved fluidly across the keys, her face calm and focused, no evidence of her smile to be seen. 

He finally tore his gaze from her to glance at Woody at his side, the mechanic silently bouncing back and forth on her feet, bottom lip between her teeth. Her focus was fixed on Holly, too.

“Finished!” Holly shouted to a cacophony of cheers and groans.

Two guys walked over, one of whom had been collecting everyone's bets. Scanned the paper and muttered between themselves for an agonizing minute before one of them announced Holly had, in fact, won with no mistakes and an impressive word per minute count.

Woody bounced back and forth on her feet, excitedly grabbing Bucky’s arm. “Beat her own record!”

“Attagirl, Holly!” Bucky shouted.

Just as soon as the chaos began, it promptly ended with Holly’s win. No reason to stick around after hours any more. Don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here, as Bucky had heard many a bartender say at last call. People slowly filtered out of the office.

A few bills and some change were shoved into his hand. “Here’s your cut. $4.50.”

He raised his eyebrows, slipping the money into his pocket. Not bad for his first night in East Anglia.

Holly didn’t recognize the man standing next to Woody, but something about him seemed familiar, comforting without the ache that usually accompanied thoughts of home, of…she figured it best not to spoil the rush of her win before she even reached Woody and met the man smiling her way. 

Woody threw her arms around Holly in congratulations, their embrace lasting a few seconds before remembering they weren’t alone.

“Oh, Holly! This is Major John Egan. Just landed a few hours ago,” Woody said, her arm around Holly. “Major, this is Sergeant Holly Dean, typing queen.”

“Quit it!” Holly laughed. “You’re the new Air Exec officer, aren’t you?” She extended her hand. “Good to meet you, Major.”

Bucky shook her hand. “Looks like you’re batting 300, Sarge. I gotta keep you on my roster.”

“Starting lineup?” she asked.

“You bet,” he said. “You’re from DC, aren’t you? You must be a Nats fan.”

“Sure am,” she said, with all the foolhardy pride of someone devoted to an ever-struggling team. “How about you?”

“Yankees.”

“So you’re from New York!”

He shook his head. “Manitowoc, Wisconsin.”

“How does a man from Wisconsin end up a Yankees fan, Major?”

“I know winners when I see ‘em,” he said with a wink. “And call me Bucky.”

“Alright, Bucky.”

The two women leaned into each other, sharing an expression Bucky couldn’t quite read. Their closeness palpable, he found himself missing Buck. Probably would’ve had something to say about his betting on a typing contest, and Bucky would astutely point out typing wasn’t a sport, receiving an eye roll accompanied by a movie star smile of amusement in return.

“I hate to be that person,” Woody said apologetically, “but we should be heading back now.” 

He nodded. "Right, well it was nice meeting you, Woody. I’ll see you tomorrow, Holly.”

“Bright and early, Bucky.”

——

Despite being in East Anglia for less than 24 hours, Bucky knew Thorpe Abbotts wasn’t anything to write home about, even if he had someone to write home to. The Rip Van Winkle village was only woken up from its slumber by the arrival of the United States Army Air Force and Red Cross. Local farmers were forced to trade a rooster’s morning crow for the roar of bomber planes as their alarm clocks. The English and Irish laborers who worked around the base considered their American compatriots novel and exotic—or a nuisance, depending on who he was talking to.

Found out there was a pub in town. Headed over with some of the other pilots and local laborers the night before. Good drinks, fun company, and a pretty barmaid. At least he wouldn’t have to rely on typing contests and the officers’ club exclusively to get his kicks. Though, if the typing contests happened regularly enough, he’d be looking at a decent payday if he kept betting on Holly to win. A guy the previous night had argued that Spinelli would win often enough, but Bucky, in all of his misguided superstition, figured there must have been something to going into the damn thing blind and making the best bet.

When Bucky got to the office, he almost couldn’t believe it was the same place that had been bursting at the seams the night before. Nancy Pinkowsky’s lips bore no trace of the bold red she painted on them. Leona Spinelli wore WAAC-issued heels, clacking across the floor as she walked over to a file cabinet. And Holly Dean’s brown eyes were dull, framed by light purple crescents below them.

Bucky frowned, making his way over to her.

“Morning, Sergeant,” he said.

“Good morning, Major.”

“Rough night?”

She gave him a tired smile. “Something like that. Did you get a chance to meet Corporal Pinkowsky or Sergeant Spinelli last night, sir?”

“Afraid I didn’t,” he said, a charming smile spreading across his face. “I’m sure we’ll all get to know each other pretty well. Major John Egan, but you can call me Bucky.”

They all seemed more controlled, stifled in contrast to the night before as they introduced themselves. Women always had personas to shift in and out of, social chameleons depending on the situation. Bucky had gotten along just fine without watering himself down for anybody, but as an old paramour of his had pointed out to him, he had the distinct advantage of being a man, and the world was far more forgiving to men with character than women, who had to shrink themselves to fit into perfume bottles, lipstick tubes, or in the cases of Holly, Nancy, and Leona, ribbons of typewriter ink.

“Looking forward to working with you, Major,” Nancy said, her long, dark eyelashes fluttering. She desperately wanted to be a flirt, but lacked the nerve to follow through. 

Always sharp, Leona hardly missed a thing. Her attention could be unsettling, too intimidating for some people unless they knew her well enough. “Nice to meet you, sir.” 

Bucky shifted his weight on his feet, looking away from Leona. 

“Oh, Colonel Huglin’s looking for you,” Holly said.

He sighed. “That sounds about right. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Major.”

As soon as the door to Huglin’s office shut behind him, Nancy and Leona’s focus turned squarely to Holly, their attention weighing her down. She knew exactly what they were going to ask, anticipating their disappointment at her answer that no, she didn’t know if the handsome Major was taken. She would have been surprised if he were.

“So, what’s his deal?” Nancy asked.

Leona leaned over her desk. “Yeah, I saw you talking with him last night.”

“Well, he’s from Wisconsin, but he’s a Yankees fan.”

Nancy groaned. “You know what baseball team he likes, but you didn’t find out if he has a girlfriend?”

“What, you wanna make your move after flopping last night?” Leona teased, her cat-like gaze drifting over to Holly. “Besides, he’s got his sights set on you, Holly Dean.”

Holly shook her head. “I’m not ready to even consider anything romantic. You know that. I’ll never say ‘no’ to making a friend, though.”

“He might,” Nancy said.

“Well then you ask him if he’s getting his dick wet, if you’re so curious,” Leona said, snickering at the way Nancy’s face paled. “See, you need someone more your speed. Hey Holly, he say when the other flyboys were getting in?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t mention it.”

“Geez, maybe Nancy’s got a point. Is baseball all you talked about with the guy?” Leona asked.

The women’s chattering fell to whispers when Bucky stepped out of Huglin’s office a few minutes later. Perhaps Holly hadn’t noticed it sooner, caught up in the throes of her own exhaustion following a near sleepless night, but Bucky was quite clearly hungover. He certainly hadn’t kept his aviators on inside for style, that much became abundantly clear as he rubbed his forehead. The three typists shared wordless side glances at the state of him. First day on the job and probably got chewed out already.

“Any of you know where a guy can get aspirin?” he asked. 

“There’s a first aid kit in the cabinet over there. Should be some,” Holly said.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, sir.”

They went back to typing, silently, slowly, glancing up every now and then to watch Bucky rifle through the first aid kit and promptly dry swallow two aspirin pills. He haphazardly shoved the contents back inside the box and closed it, shoving the first aid kit back into the cabinet. He retreated into his own office, presumably to sleep off whatever ailed him.

“Forget him,” Nancy whispered, only loud enough for her compatriots to hear. “He hasn’t even been here a day and he’s hungover. That’s sick.”

Holly gave her a pointed look. “Don’t be rude, Nance.”

“And he made a mess of the first aid kit.”

“I got it,” Leona huffed, getting up from her desk. “You’re such a baby sometimes.”

Nancy stuck her tongue out at Leona as soon as her back was to them. 

Holly liked them both well enough, at least more than some of the other women in the Air Exec office. Considered them friends, close enough to go out with, share some drinks and laughs, but she never quite clicked with them on the same level she did Woody. Some kind of disconnect emotionally, never quite able to meet her energy the way she needed.

The two had met in San Francisco a little over a year prior, the weekend Stan was being sent off to the Pacific. Holly went with him, glad she had in hindsight, and among the mischief they got up to their last weekend together, one of Stan’s Navy buddies, Frank, invited them to a party. Woody had been Frank’s date, and in a city bustling with women who'd signed up to help Navy or Marines, the two WAAC women bonded right away. Like the stars aligned. The best weekend of their lives. Nothing short of a relief when they were both stationed at Thorpe Abbotts.

She wasn’t quite sure how to describe her relationship with Woody. Friends didn’t encapsulate the complexity of how deeply she felt for her, the certainty with which she knew she could rely on her. She found herself hard pressed to find anyone who understood her the way Woody did.

Holly didn’t see Bucky for a few more hours, and wondered how he could possibly get shut-eye with all of the commotion. If it wasn’t the combined clicking of half a dozen typewriters, it was the talking, a whirlwind of new reports and telegrams and projects to be started and those subsequently scrapped near completion because something had changed, which then affected everything else and brought everyone back to square one.

Quite different from the law firm she worked for as a typist prior to the war. Typically kept up case files and typed up minutes and summaries for various meetings. Sometimes, the lawyers would bring her with them on the cases that went to trial instead of being settled out of court, needing a typist to sit in and record testimonies. While her knowledge of shorthand helped back then, learning the United States Army Air Force acronyms and jargon was like learning another language, not to mention the plethora of accents she had to interpret on top of that.

At least it was interesting work, important work. Kept her on her toes, like she figured Bucky would, as around noon, when she made her leave to get lunch, he emerged from his office and rushed over to her just as she was walking out the door.

“Mind if I join you? I’m still learning my way around,” he said.

“Isn’t half your job knowing where you’re going, Major?” she joked.

He grinned. “That’s the navigator’s job. I’m a pilot, doll.”

“Well, I’m no navigator, but I think I can get us to mess in one piece, as long as you don’t mind walking.”

“Not at all.”

“You won’t be saying that for long, believe me. It rains so much here, you’d think you’d need a rowboat to get around.”

“Know where I can find one of those?”

She shook her head. “What you need is a bike. They’re hard to get a hold of, but since you’re a Major and all, you can probably get your hands on one easier than most.”

“See? I’m learning from you already.”

On their walk over, it became clear Bucky’s fanaticism for the Yankees rivaled Holly’s feverish devotion to the Nationals, and when he made a joke at their expense, he almost thought she took it as a personal offense. She also made a passing remark about how if she had any doubts about city life, it had been snuffed out after a mere two weeks in Thorpe Abbotts, the countryside charm wearing off rather quickly for her. Bucky agreed, neglecting to mention he hadn’t experienced much of fast-paced, city living himself, but he knew he’d thrive in it given the opportunity. 

“So, you writing to anyone back home?” he asked when they found a table to sit at.

“Just my parents and a few friends.”

“No boyfriend?”

Her lips pressed together in a thin line. “No.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. I mean, I don’t have a girlfriend or anything.”

“It’s not that. I was engaged but…he died.”

“Was he a pilot?”

She shook her head. “Navy. Was killed at Midway last year. His name was Stan.”

“Shit, yeah,” he said softly, “I remember watching the newsreels from that.”

“I could never bring myself to watch ‘em.”

Biggest naval battle in history. The headlines screamed it. Boisterous radio and newsreel announcers regaled the public on the heroic exploits of the members of the Navy and Marines who took on and triumphed over their formidable Japanese enemies. He remembered the restless envy that tore through his gut with each newspaper article, each newsreel—not over the coverage or accolades, but of the action. Lucky bastards got to give the enemy a taste of their own medicine while the 100th was still running practice missions. He hadn’t considered the losses very much. Didn’t have reason to until then.

“Jesus, I’m sorry, Holly. I feel like a real jerk.”

She shrugged, a weak smile spreading across her lips. “Don’t apologize, you couldn’t have known. Just make sure you hit ‘em where it hurts when you’re up there. Doesn’t matter what continent. It’s all the same.”

He nodded. “You got it, Sarge. I’m goin’ up in two days. We’ll give ‘em hell.”

“Good,” she said. Cleared her throat, tried to shake off the sadness that slithered through her like a snake. “So, where’s the rest of the 100th?”

“Got lost coming over here,” Bucky said, laughing when her eyes widened. “Hey, I’m kidding! They’re still training stateside. They’ll be here in a few weeks. June, probably.”

“Anyone single?” Holly asked, quickly adding, “Leona and Nancy wanted me to ask.”

“Off the top of my head? Crank, Douglass, Brady, DeMarco…” He grinned. “Hey, maybe you can type up a list for me.”

She laughed. “Sure I can.”

“You gotta meet Buck. I think you’d really like him.”

His best buddy. Second best pilot in the 100th, only following him, of course. The one of the greatest storytellers she would ever meet. Pretty much inseparable since they met at basic. Didn’t mention how being the focus of Buck’s attention felt like being on top of the world, could send him even higher than any of the forts did. Couldn’t think of a time he felt that way about anyone else.

“He sounds terrific.”

“Pretty square, though—“

“Square?”

“The guy doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t like sports, including baseball, and he’s been dating the same dame since high school.”

“You make the last one sound like a bad thing.”

“Well, it will be for Nancy and Leona’s list.”

“Are we seriously going to make one?”

Bucky snickered, increasingly amused with the idea the more he thought about it. “Why not?”

——

If Holly minded Bucky’s company, she never said anything about it. Didn’t bat an eye when he’d tag along to wherever she was headed to every now and then. Sometimes on her own, but she spent a lot of time with Woody, and the more he was around the two of them, the more he was itching for Buck to finally make it over.

The Wilhelmshaven mission rattled Bucky. His first. Poor Duvall caught the bad end of flak and was covered in blood and barely hanging on when the fort landed back at the air base. Woody’s voice wavered when she told Holly about it, the state of the navigator. Woody was friends or friendly enough with most of the bomber boys by virtue of working on their forts, their babies, really. Being ground crew meant she also had the unfortunate burden of witnessing firsthand the aftermath of the brutality the bomber crews faced in the skies.

Suddenly, Bucky carried the same weariness Holly had seen the other men wrestle with in their own ways. She was hardly surprised when Bucky drowned his in alcohol at the village pub, inviting her and Woody along to join him and some of his fellow pilots for a nightcap, a celebration of Bucky’s first mission.

“Mark my words, Holly,” Bucky said, well into his fourth beer. “If there’s gonna be two pilots left in the sky by the end of this war, it’s gonna be Buck and me. I’d bet anything on it.”

His certainty caught in his throat when her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. 

“That’s hopeful.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing.”

“It’s not,” she said softly. “Sometimes I think too much about what could go wrong. I’m sorry, Bucky.”

A stormy melancholy hung above Holly once in a while, and though it never poured, she withdrew within herself. Some mornings, she greeted him with a shadow of the smile he always looked for as soon as he walked into the office. On those days especially, he reached out, tried to bridge the gap between them with whatever story or one-sided conversation he could think of.

He had asked Woody about it, knowing she’d be able to explain it to him better than anyone else. Only started after Stan died. Unnerved some people, annoyed others who thought she was being too dramatic, moping for so long over the man. Her behavior could be erratic, mostly self-isolating, occasionally self-destructive, but that aspect hadn’t reared its ugly head for some time. 

“I wish you knew her before,” Woody had told him quietly. “She wasn’t always like this.”

“I like her just fine now,” he’d answered, almost defensively.

“Good. She thinks the world of you, Bucky.”

His heart had jumped. Stopped himself from saying the same. 

Now, however, sitting with Holly in the small pub, He smiled, smacking his palm against the table, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “I know what’ll cheer you up. How about a song?”

“You can sing?”

“Nope.”

But he did anyway. Blue Skies. Enthusiastic. Off-key. Loud. Ran around the place like someone lit a fire under his ass while the pub erupted in cheers and heckling at his performance. 

“What the hell is he doing?” Woody asked, sitting down next to Holly, half-drunk glass of beer in hand.

“Trying to cheer me up."

Singing certainly wasn’t his forte, and adding dancing to the mix only served to make the performance worse. He crashed into a nearby table, sending glasses to the ground with shrill shatters that cut through his song. Holly’s hand flew to her mouth as she tried to stifle her laughter at the mess and the fact that he kept going. Pulled the exasperated barmaid in for a twirl, and she nearly hit him with her tray.

“He’s nuts,” Woody laughed.

Holly grinned, clapping enthusiastically when Bucky concluded the song, half out of breath, perspiration on his forehead. “Yeah, he is.”

“How about another round and an encore?” he asked when he returned to the table, pleased with himself at how big Holly’s smile was.

“Yes to another round!” Woody exclaimed. “Hold the encore.”

——

June didn’t offer a reprieve from the incessant English rain, but by the second week of the month, it brought Buck Cleven, and as far as Bucky was concerned, things were as right with the world as they could be, all things considered.

He tried not to think about the possibility of Buck not liking Holly. Knew he wouldn’t show it even if he somehow weren’t all that fond of her, ever the gentleman, good ol’ Buck. But Bucky had heard one too many guys make some snide remark about Holly and her odd behavior, her grief, to leave him with more than a few healthy grudges. Still, he wasn’t shocked at Buck’s incredulous attitude when he brought up Holly.

“Where are we going?” Buck asked from the passenger seat of the jeep.

“Quick pit stop to the Air Exec office,” Bucky said. “You gotta meet her—Sergeant Holly Dean, best typist you’ll ever see in your life.”

“Bucky—“

“C’mon, I talked you up to her! She’s keen to meet you.”

Buck shook his head. “You want me to humor your little girlfriend?”

“It’s not—Buck, come on.” Bucky scoffed. “What, I can’t have friends now?”

Buck hummed. “Sure. Friends.”

“She’s great, Buck. We should all go out sometime. You’ll see.”

“You know, Marge went to the trouble of introducing you to Peggy—”

“Holly’s fun! She makes the desk job less boring.”

“Whatever you say,” Buck said as the office came into view.

Holly swore she heard Nancy whisper “oh my god” when Bucky walked into the Air Exec office with whom she could only assume was Buck Cleven. She took in a deep breath in an attempt to even out her palpitating heartbeat. He almost looked like he walked off of a movie set. 

Then he took off his cap and smiled at them, introduced himself to Nancy first, who managed a quiet “Hello Major,” and then to Leona, whose deep eyes almost bore a hole through the pilot. Holly swallowed roughly when he made his way over to her.

“You must be Holly, then,” he said. “Buck Cleven, it's nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too," she said, glancing between him and Bucky. "I already know I’m gonna get your names mixed up, so I’m sorry in advance, sir.”

Buck smiled. “My first name is Gale, if that helps.”

“Gale’s a great name. Why go by Buck?”

“On account of this one,” Buck said, gesturing to Bucky. “He doesn’t have any manners, if you haven’t noticed.”

“He’s swell,” Holly said. “Best Air Exec we’ve had yet.”

“Heard you’ve been keeping an eye on him for me.”

“Trying my best, sir.”

“Well, he’s in one piece, so you’re doin’ a pretty good job.”

Kind and handsome—and woefully taken. But not perfect. Didn’t like booze or baseball, pretty much non-negotiables as far as she was concerned. Nancy and Leona didn’t know that, though. Neither of them had Bucky’s insider knowledge the way she did. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered to them all that much, anyway. Most importantly, she wasn’t ready to date again. Ignored who came to mind when she thought of where she’d like to start, though. Probably ruin a damn good thing if she did.

“It was nice meeting you ladies. I’m sure we’ll see each other around,” Buck said kindly.

“Don’t be a stranger, Major,” Leona said.

Nancy nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

“You girls behave while I’m gone,” Bucky joked.

As soon as the door closed behind them, the three typists shared dazed expressions.

“Was he on that list you gave us?” Nancy asked.

“Not a chance,” Holly said. “Bucky says Buck is hopelessly devoted to his girl back home.”

Leona groaned. “That was the most gorgeously unavailable man I’ve ever seen in my life. I need to have a drink or four over it tonight.”

——

The day of Buck’s first mission, Bucky clung to Holly the way a child would a blanket during a bad thunderstorm. He felt ridiculous making the comparison between himself and her, but he knew she’d understand the uncertainty, the waiting. Didn’t say anything when he found lame excuses to keep her working in his office, unsure of how else to express that he didn’t want to be alone with himself, with his thoughts.

The practice missions were just that—practice. Though Buck took them on with all of the focus and skill of real missions, there wasn’t much risk involved. Death couldn’t reach out its cold hands and touch them quite yet, but on his first mission, Bucky swore he felt its frigid grip on his shoulder, trying to pull him away with it somehow. Learned how to ignore it by his second mission, not to see its face behind his eyes every time he blinked or hear it calling for him with each burst of flak. But he couldn’t tell Buck, no way for him to understand until he was up there and experienced it for himself. Maybe that was why Holly sometimes retreated into silence when it came to Stan.

Wondered how she felt before she got the news about Stan. Was she expecting it? Had a gut feeling that she hoped was indigestion? Blindsided and crushed? He couldn’t bring himself to ask. Wasn’t sure he could handle knowing her answer. 

Instead, they talked baseball, as she’d given him a Lou Gehrig card she got from an old pack of Big League Chewing Gum, having inexplicably brought her modest collection of baseball cards over to England with her. Had a Yankee among her more treasured cards and didn’t think twice about giving it to him. So Lou found his home among Bucky’s two rosaries and various homegrown talismans that carried his hope and superstition. Took the place of his lucky deuce which he’d given to Buck that morning, not that he’d dream of biting a corner off of it.

He scratched the bridge of his nose, avoiding eye contact with her as he said, “Thanks for putting up with me.”

“What do you mean ‘putting up with you’?” she asked. “I like being with you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He almost couldn’t believe how close they’d become in the weeks since they met. So close that every so often, they’d be asked if they were a couple, brushing off the assumptions with laughter and the answer that no, they weren’t. Hell, even Buck assumed it before he met Holly. But really, he couldn’t think of how much would change between them if they were. Didn’t matter. He knew things would be okay if he had Holly around, no matter how that looked.

“Hey, shouldn’t they be getting back soon?”

“Shit, you’re right. I’ll see you later, Holly.”

“See you, Bucky,” she said, taking his hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “Take care.”

He nodded silently, slipping the hand she held into his jacket pocket when he turned to leave, wanting the warm, comforting feeling to last until he could see ‘Our Baby’ approaching and finally relax. A smile spread across his face, but there was no way for her to have seen it.

[jemgirl86]

So… my AU for the “Ghosts” prompt for the anniversary event has turned into a whole thing, as usual 😬. Who knows when it’ll be done. It’s already over 6500 words, and I’m not even sure how I’m going to end it yet lol. So, have a snippet ‘cause it might not be finished for another two weeks, or another two months 🤷🏾‍♀️

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you look it,” Bucky said, sarcastically.

“If you have something to say, Bucky, then just say it.”

“Okay.” Bucky nodded, steeling himself. “You’ve been killing yourself, and me by association, ‘cause you’ve been trying to distract yourself with work since the second Sam left. It’s finally starting to catch up to you though — to both of us really. We’ve both been running on nothing but fumes and adrenaline for months now. And if we don’t cut it out soon, somebody is gonna get hurt. You, me, hell, maybe one of the poor bastards we’re trying to save, is gonna get killed, if we. Don’t. Slow. Down.”

“We’re fine,” Steve bit out. “We’ve been getting the job done fine.”

“Barely,” Bucky snapped back. “Damn it, Stevie. That zombie almost had you last night. A freaking zombie. They’re some of the slowest, easiest to kill monsters we come across, and one almost took you out yesterday, ‘cause you’re off your game. Your head isn’t in it, and your heart really isn’t in it, and it hasn’t been for a long time now.”

Steve had to seriously fight the urge to roll his eyes and say something smart. Of course his heart wasn’t in it anymore. His heart was wherever Sam had disappeared to when he’d decided that hunting wasn’t for him anymore, and worse, that Steve wasn’t for him anymore, and dropped off the face of the earth.

Sam’s regular cell was cut off, and so was his backup. He must’ve started permanently using one of his aliases too, because Steve had searched and searched, but hadn’t been able to find a trace of Sam since he’d called things quits between them and broken Steve’s heart in the process.

Steve still didn’t know why it had happened, or what he’d done.

[lanabuckybarnes]

This is a little headcanon of how I believe Bucky got Alpine in my lil universe

Bucky’s treatment in Wakanda was almost up, he’d finally get to go back to the US and live out his retirement back in his hometown. He was pleased to go home, he missed the hustle and bustle of NYC but there was one thing here he'd miss most of all. His stray cat.

It was one hot day while he was out feeding his goats when a ball of white in the field caught his attention. Strange? That was never there before. Thinking that maybe one of his pregnant goats had given birth he paced forwards and crouched to inspect further.

It was then he came face to face with a tiny white cat with big blue eyes. The small feline was warm, unnaturally so, its white fur being cooked in the hot Wakandan sun. He couldn’t leave it to die.

The day after, once he’d made sure the cat was healthy and fed, it disappeared. He was a little sad but he understood, it looked like it had spent its entire life as a stray so it would’ve been extremely unsure around humans, he reasoned.

This day had been particularly rough, his treatment had gone slightly wrong and had made him ill. He’d just about managed to pull himself out of his small cot and cook some dinner.

Deciding that fresh air may be of some good, he sat by the river to eat his dinner listening to the flowing water and the birds flying through the air. He almost missed the small meow that came from his left side, it was the little white cat. It was more plump than he’d last seen it, its sapphire doll-like eyes staring at the cooked fish in his hand.

“Don’t look at me like that” he murmured, resisting the urge to give in to its demands. He was doing a good job until he wasn’t. The mass of white fur meowed again and reached up, placing an outstretched paw on his chest. He sighed in defeat, pulling some of the fish from the stick with his teeth and dropping it on the blanket he’d laid before.

“There we go” A rare smile crossed his face when the feline scarfed down the food, blinking up at him again for more.

“Come on now I don’t have much” but instead of begging anymore it rubbed itself up his left side, cuddling up next to his hip.

The cat never left him after that day, they became a sort of duo. Wherever Bucky was it was sure to follow. He even named it, little Alpine.

Bucky would miss the much bigger cat now that he was returning home. He didn’t want to take the cat from where it knew, fearing that it may do more harm than good.

The journey on the quinjet was long. Bucky, now with a new vibranium arm, dozed off once to the soothing thrum of the engines. When they had arrived Bucky was instantly shown to his room, where his bags had been taken before. What he didn’t expect amongst the small pile was a large ball of white fur.

“Alpine?” He questioned.

The cat jumped awake with a chirp at his voice, stretching its long body off the bed to the carpeted floor before rubbing itself on Bucky’s ankles.

Bucky never did find out how the cat got there, he guessed that it had something to do with a little statement Shuri had made before he left.

“You’ve named it, it’s yours now” She’d smiled at the burly figure with the snow-coloured cat in his lap.

He was happy he’d have a friend, albeit one who would steal his food and take up most of his bed.

—

Definitely not posting this because all I have in the drafts is smut 👀

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 2

A slightly shorter chapter...much more to come! Any Viking/Norse words were found on Google, so if it's incorrect please educate me!!

Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

The morning sun shown on her face, waking her slowly.  She was no longer being held and she begrudgingly opened her eyes to the bright light.  She sat up and looked around.  No one was sleeping next to her, the men and Bucky had gone back to their rowing tasks or milling about the ship, passing out food and water to the others.  She stretched her arms and legs then rubbed her face.  The other ships were still next to theirs, never missing a beat.

“Ah, you’re up,” Bucky said, walking over to her.  He held out some bread, some kind of meat jerky, berries and a canteen to her.  “I know it’s not exactly a royal feast, but it’s the best we’ve got for now.”

“Thank you,” Y/N smiled at him as she took the offering.  Bucky sat next to her as she chewed on the meat first.  

“Did you sleep well?” Bucky ventured a conversation with her.

“I did, thank you.  I’m sorry if I woke you,” Y/N said sheepishly.

“It’s alright,” Bucky smirked.  He held up his metal arm.  “It’s a bit strange, I know.”

Y/N watched his arm as it shifted when he moved.  “Do you mind me asking–”

“How I got it?  How it was made? What happened to my arm?” he flashed a lopsided smile at her.  “I lost my arm in a battle ten years ago.  The healers melted a special metal from swords given to us by a friendly country in Alkebulan called Wakanda.  They used it and some magic to create this,” he wiggled his metal fingers and flicked the arm with his flesh fingers, “and adhered it to my body.”

“That all sounds very painful,” Y/N said, looking concerned.

“It was,” Bucky said.  “But at least I have an arm back.  It still functions as a regular arm, but it’s nearly indestructible, stronger than my normal one. I could crush a man’s skull with just this,” he held his hand out to her.  She looked at it with a mix of wonder and horror.  The black plates and the gold inner workings glittered in the sunlight.  

“It is strangely beautiful,” Y/N said wistfully.  

“I think I’ll keep it,” he joked, nudging her shoulder.  Y/N snorted at him as she drank from the canteen.

The routine stayed about the same each day of the journey until the last day.  Y/N woke up suddenly that morning, her body wide awake.  Her eyes searched the horizon as she felt a strange pull coming from the direction they were heading.  

“What?  What is it?” Bucky stirred as she shot up out of the furs.  Y/N walked down the length of the boat, avoiding the oars and the men’s elbows and shoulders as she reached the other side.  She held onto the side of the bow with one hand, the other reaching out into thin air.  “What are you doing?” Bucky grunted as he followed her to the front.  He watched the green light glow from her hand, and as it grew, glowing green veins of light seeped through the ocean towards whatever was beyond the hazy horizon.

“Land ho!” one of the men called.

Y/N felt hot tears trail down her face as she laughed.  She could feel the power, the magic, flowing to her from the land beyond.  “You said you had magic at home,” she whispered as the veins seemed to rise up and lick around her fingers.

Bucky watched on in awe.  “I-I did.”

“I can feel it,” Y/N breathed as she closed her palm, the green disappearing.  “It’s…ancient.”  She turned to Bucky as a wide smile spread across her face.  “It feels like home.”

Bucky took her hands into his and raised them to his mouth, kissing each finger softly.  “Welcome home Drottning.”

The people met them at the shore, singing what sounded like victorious tunes and chants, helping to pull the ships in and unload the spoils.   Once she was escorted off the boat the people seemed to hush as they watched her walk along the rocky beach.  Bucky brought her over to a grassy knoll that had stones facing up in a circle, rising tall above them pointing towards the sky.  Markings were carved into the stones, and in the middle of the area was a ring of small white rocks.  Y/N could feel the energy around her, her fingertips glowing green and occasional sparkles falling from them and into the earth, making the grass sway with her as she walked.  

Standing near the circle was an older woman.  Her long white and gray hair was braided and styled intricately, a headdress made of bent twigs, feathers and an animal skull atop her head.  She wore a long, white linen dress that was layered with a sandy colored pelt held together with more bones and fabric.  She held a long staff in her hand.  Her face was covered in a kind of white makeup across her eyes and red splotches on her forehead and her chin.  Y/N had never seen anything like it before and ogled the woman as they approached.

“Modir,” Bucky greeted her, bowing his head and then making a motion with his hands like he was splashing his face and head with water.  The woman did the same back to him before walking up to him and holding his face in her hands for a moment.

“You bring us peace…and a gift,” the woman stated, looking towards Y/N.

“I believe so,” he smiled at her.  He then walked behind Y/N, pushing her forward towards the woman.  “Y/N, this is my mother, Winnifred Brynhilde Barnes.  She is our Volve, or seer.”

Y/N did as Bucky had and bowed her head, mimicking the motion with her hands.  “Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”  Winnifred studied her for a moment before cupping Y/N’s face in her hands.  Y/N stood still, recognizing the same piercing blue eyes of her son.

“Yes…” Winnifred’s hands shook as her eyes glazed over as she stared at Y/N.  “She is one of the lost daughters of Freya.”  Bucky and many of the people surrounding them gasped audibly.  “My child,” Winnifred’s eyes cleared as she gazed at Y/N.  “Your power is from Freya, the goddess of love, beauty, fertility, even war, death, wealth, and magic,” she smiled warmly at her.  “Through the years of war we lost those with your power to the English, during one of the many raids I suspect.  But you have survived, even into the royal family.  Your power could never grow there,” she explained, seeing the question in Y/N’s face, “because it was lost to them long ago.  You freed Thor who told us about the English witch, and James recognized the gift and brought you home to us.”  Y/N didn’t know why, but she felt a strong emotional reaction to Winnifred’s words.  “Come to the circle, my child, and claim your home.”  She led Y/N over to the circle of white rocks.  Winnifred stopped at the edge of the circle and gestured for Y/N to enter it.

Y/N stepped into the circle and stood in the middle of it.  She looked at Winnifred for instruction.  “Show us,” Winnifred encouraged her.  Y/N took a deep breath, unsure of what to do.  She glanced at Bucky standing behind his mother watching her.  He gave her his signature smirk and a nod of his head.  Y/N lifted her hands and looked down at them.  She flattened her fingers and let the power run through her.  It glowed in her palms and then did the same veiny pattern as it seemed to leak from her fingertips into the ground below.  Once the power hit the soil it pulsed like a heartbeat, and small purple flowers began springing up from the area around her feet.  Y/N’s eyes widened as she watched it.  She could feel the earth, feel the blades of grass, feel the trees swaying in the wind, could even hear the wind speaking to her in little whispers of delight.  She laughed and bent down and dug her fingers into the dirt.  A deep vibrating hum erupted from the ground beneath them.  It was winter in Danmark and yet as her power seeped into the earth the snow started melting around them, the leaves started sprouting on the trees and flowers popped up early.  The grass was greener and fuller, the wind warmer, and there was a groaning sound as rocks moved into their rightful places from where they’d fallen, the large stones around the circle that were starting to crumble suddenly being made whole again.  

The power even seeped into the surrounding people. The men who had been hurt in battle suddenly healed quickly and the ailments others had been suffering from for years lessened.  Bucky’s arm whirred as the power met him, the scarring along the area where it had been attached to his flesh mending better than the healers had been able to, and the heaviness of the arm seemed to lessen, the strain on his back disappearing and making him feel lighter than he had in years.  Winnifred’s aged back straightened right in front of him.  He watched in astonishment at the true power his new wife held.

Y/N was crying hard now as she felt the pulses of euphoria through her entire body.  Her parents had tried to dim her light, to squash her power, make her feel small and unwanted, like a tool, and yet she was so much more.  The acceptance from Bucky’s people, from him, from this new land, had her feeling like she was floating as she healed not just the earth and its people, but herself.

She pulled her fingers out of the earth and clutched her hands to her chest, the wind dying down as the power receded back into her hands.  She sobbed heavily at the pure freedom she felt.  Bucky walked towards her and kneeled in front of her.  He pulled her hands away and cleaned off her fingers with his coat, then did as he had done on the ship and brought them each to his mouth, kissing them fondly.  His eyes were teary as he smiled at her.  “My Drottning, my Asynja.”

Y/N gave him a puzzled look.  “My queen, my goddess,” he whispered.

Winnifred kneeled before her.  “Come, Drottning, we must bring you to the hof.”

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

@wintrsoldrluvr

[berrys-hide-out]

Through thunderstorms and arguments- Call for help!

Summary; Peter finds Thor and Loki training and ends up wanting to see the cool move! Too bad the god of thunder has been hanging out too much with his mischievous little brother and things take a hysterical turn.

A/N; I changed a few things from the original ask which was sent by @inneedofsupervision but I desperately hope it turned out to your liking! (Apologies again for the wait! Still recovering 🩷🫂) ENJOY!!! ✨

Warnings; tickles and a lil fancy swearing form Loki!

———————-

It was storming outside, hail clattered against the windows of cars and houses, raindrops fell like someone was dumping buckets of water onto earth and the wind changed the direction of it all every few minutes.

Peter watched in silence as the white pieces fell past the huge windows of the 100th floor of SI. He watched the clouds that sometimes lit up which was followed by crackling thunder.

It was loud, sure. Being so close to the clouds and roof; things always sounded a little louder but the soundproofed walls gave a bit of relief to it all.

The thunder could be unsettling after awhile.. you’d think he’d have gotten used to his sensibilities by now but in truth it wasn’t something that he could just ignore.

His mind wandered as he watched the spectacle, Thor and Loki were currently in the tower..

Thinking of Thor and Loki, where were they anyways? His eyes lifted and flew over the rather quiet common room.

Steve and Bucky were watching TV on the couch, Natasha and Tony sat by the table, the billionaire busy with something on his hologram while the super spy was halfheartedly watching the Tv.

“Where are Loki and Thor?” He asked as his feet took him towards the table. His voice seemed weirdly loud.. It felt almost criminal to disturb the silence.

Natasha looked at him „Probably training while the training room isn’t occupied“ Tony looked up as well „Yeah, pretty sure point break and reindeer games are trying to get along a little better.“ he stated in a bored tone, probably having heard the two gods bickering earlier today.

If Tony didn’t hear them Peter was positive Friday warned him about it.

„Alright I’ll go have a look then.“ „yep, don’t get between them Pete!“ Steve called after him wich earned him a chuckle and a two finger salute „Sure thing captn‘!“ he called before turning around, putting his hands into his pockets and heading off towards the training room.

He was two corners away from his destination when he already heard bickering. Peter chuckled, how can two gods bicker so much? They’ve been at it for hours!

„THOR! Let me down this instant!“ „Brother, stop struggling already or we won’t be able to do get help!“

Peter’s curiosity instantly spiked and he jogged the last steps, head poking into the room.

Sure enough he saw Thor holding Loki up, ready to throw while the younger squirmed uselessly.

„You will not throw me you insolent oaf!“ Loki yelled before getting tossed onto the mats, taking out the smaller ones that were standing up mere seconds before.

„I still hate it.“ Loki grumbled as he sat up. „I find it rather amusing.“ Thor grinned at his brother who sent him a dirty look „no it is not. It’s humiliating.“

Peter sniggered, earning their immediate attention. „Little spider!“ Thor grinned happily „hey kid.“

„heya! That was an awesome move!“ he grinned as he walked in, his grin widened when he saw Loki roll his eyes.

„Indeed! I am glad you’ve decided to join us on the matter! Loki doesn’t seem to be on the same page as us..“ Thor grinned and eyed Loki shortly. Peter nodded animatedly „can you show me? The whole move I mean?“

„I am not doing that again.“ Loki growled at his brother who was already looking at him with expectancy and a playful grin. The boy huffed „aw, why not? It’s such an awesome move!“ he gushed.

Loki squinted at him, seemingly trying to figure out if he was joking or not. Then his eyes caught Thors and he saw his own mischief twinkle right back at him.

Peter was about to ask something else only to gasp when Thor picked him up by sneaking under his arm „Let’s reenact the move together then litte spider!” He grinned.

The boy however could only huff. His feet were slightly off the ground and no matter how far he tried to bend his feet for his toes to reach the ground it just wasn’t enough.

With slight shock and bit of embarrassment he came to realise that was hanging there like a slack sack of potatoes.

An awkward slack sack of potatoes.

He was halfheartedly hanging over Thors neck and slightly his shoulder. The gods hand supported him by the ribs and the other held the arm that was draped over him.

Peter huffed at his predicament “can you lower me slightly? Please?” Loki sniggered at his question and shook his head as he stood up “Don’t worry Peter, it’ll get better” he reassured.

Peter did not feel reassured. The playful gleam in the tricksters eyes and the sly grin did nothing to reassure him- in fact his nerves lit up instantly and he shook his head. “No I’m su-HURE!”

The boy was interrupted by his own squeak and jump when the strong hand squeezed the spot by his ribs and he snapped to look at Thor with wide eyes and a betrayed glare. The god however just grinned down at him and winked.

Peter blushed- they were not actually about to team up on him after bickering the whole day through! Right!?

Peter heard the tricksters dark laugh rumble through his chest- if he wouldn’t have super hearing he’d only see him holding back his amusement.

“You have to stay committed little spider!” Thor announced happily as he nudged Peter’s ribs again, this time with a lot more intent as his knuckles rushed past his ribs.

Peter sputtered a laugh and he forced his legs up quickly to try and curl up. Loki grinned and shared an amused glance with Thor. “ahAhaha! nOhO! ThoHOhor!” The kid squeaked out between laughs.

Thor laughed with him and let up on the tickling. Peter’s legs lowered but before he could shoot Thor a dirty glare Loki walked closer to them “honestly Thor, don’t torture Starks kid” he mused and then squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “You need to call out for help to make it seem authentic”

Peter squinted at Loki “shouldn’t Thor be calling for help? I’m supposed to play the victim!” He argued. He was not about to call for help! Plus! He told Captain Rogers he wouldn’t get between them which basically translates do not get into trouble with them!

Loki clicked his tongue. “Details, details” he waved Peter off and went behind them.

The boy tried craning his neck as much as he could in his position but Loki positively vanished behind them.

“Y-You know what?” Peter blabbed nervously with a small grin “mihister stark said youhu were aharguing today morning-NA-HO!” He squeaked and batted at Lokis hands that were now right by his sides “come on guys I’m nohot calling for help!”

Thor hummed “Let’s help him out then why won’t we Loki?” The god in question sniggered darkly “Oh we definitely should brother”

Peter shook his head but the silly grin on his face only encouraged Thor with his and his brothers shenanigans.

“Nohoooo, come oh-HON! NoHOho!” The boy tensed and pulled his legs up again the second Lokis nimble fingers sprung into action, skittering over his sides over the thin shirt that Pete was now dearly regretting to have worn today.

“Come on Peter, just call for help and we can continue with the move” Thor tried to encourage, Peter cursed internally at the amusement in the gods voice. How dare he!

“Mmhm-noHOho!” He giggled, trying to at least make this hard for the gods by trying to hold his giggles, but alas it was all in vain as Lokis fingers sought out the spot that made him react most.

Peter shook his head and squealed when the trickster dug into his highest rib. “LOHOKIEHEE!” “My, my, seems I’ve found a sweet spot.” The god chuckled into his ear. “EHEhEYEE! nOHOh YOuhUHu HaHAveHEhen’t!” “Hmno? You’re saying there’s a spot worse than… this?” Peter bucked again when the god dug in with a lot more precision then before “NOAHA! IHI DiHIhidn’T SAHAhay ThAHAHat!”

“I don’t know young spiderling! Sure sounded like it!” Thor chuckled as he kept the boy off the ground. It was quite a task with all his squirming. Peter shook his head through bursts of laughter. Loki sniggered and let one of his hand slip to Peter’s hip.

The boy kicked out harshly and hit the poor god of thunder’s shin. The god grunted and hissed, kneeling down slightly. Loki halted before falling into mused chuckling.

“ohoho god IHi’m sohoho sohohorry!” Peter giggled as the god made his theatrics about his shin and let the kid go. Thor rubbed his shin with a soft groan “you have quite the kick little spider!” He goaded.

Peter gave a giddy smile and opened his mouth to say something before the god smirked “but not quite to take down a god yet!” He boasted and jumped the kid.

Peter screeched and grappled with Thor over the mats.

Loki shook his head at their antics. “Really brother? We had him perfectly trapped and great for the move!” He reminded and walked along the mats, watching as Thor gave the giggly kid little chance of winning.

“We still have to encourage the little spider brother! I’m sure this will be beneficial!” The god boasted.

Peter giggled wildly and fended off the gods hands as best he could “NOho! iHIhi’m not cAHalling for help!” Thor sniggered with him, the kid had a soft blush on his cheeks and playfulness was written all over his face. “But you have to! The move won’t be complete otherwise young Stark!”

Peter kicked out when Thor almost managed to pinch his ribs “THoHO-AAH!” He yelled in surprise when his leg was pulled and his knee was squeezed “LOhOKI!” He scolded playfully, sending the god a glare- but the god simply sent him a sly grin- damn his own traitorous smile!

With the short distraction Thor squeezed his ribs. “NAHAO! ThIHIHis IHIs UnfAHAhair! aHAAhAhahA!” Loki chuckled as he traced the boys knee, sending ticklish shocks through his whole system while Thor was on a journey down to his sides. “How do you mortals say, Pete? All is fair in love and war?” The trickster mused and swiped a finger up Peter’s sole at which the boy tugged at his leg harshly.

“nAA-HA! LOhOHOki!- ThOHoHOr! THIHiHIs IhIsnt fAhaHair!” Peter exclaimed again, his hands latching onto Thors wrists- yet he barely pulled at them.

“Cohome on Young spiderling! You just have to call out for help and that’s it” his amusement of the situation grew when Peter shook his head- what a stubborn little mortal..

“Alright.. well then..”

“NAHA! THOHOAHAR! CHEHEAHATEHEHER!” Peter threw his head back, fighting with his instincts to squeeze the god’s hands there which only seemed to make it worse- or try to grapple at them- which resulted in hilarious flailing.

Loki sniggered, but he couldn’t let his brother win this, mischief was his thing after all.

His slender fingers wrapped around Peter’s knee and his fingers scribbled along the backs of them.

The reaction was immediate, Peter’s leg slammed down on the mat only to jump back up with a high pitched yelp. “Oh? Are you hiding something Peter?” Loki mused and Thor let up on his tickles “what have you found brother?” “He- hehe found nohothing!” Peter protested but the two gods ignored him “See here..” Loki said which followed by his fingers squeezing and slightly wiggling into the spot. “NAHAO! LOHOKI! WehEHe can TAHAhalk Ahabout thIHIHIhis!”

The gods sniggered at the volume change each time Loki decided to continue his little game. “Aw, but we did talk Peter. You call for help and this aaaaall stops.” To let the kid talk he let up slightly The boy pouted at the god, his brown locks more disheveled then he’s ever seen them and slightly red cheeks. Loki sighed “I believe, brother, I should teach you a few things on tickling.” He stated, a sly smirk threatening to pull on his face when Peter’s cheeks flushed a tone deeper.

Thor chuckled “alright, have it your way.”

Peter gaped at him. NO WAY were they just AGREEING!

“W-Wait- Lohoki, come ohon we can fihigure this out- look youhu’re gettihing ahalong too! Mahaybe you can make uhup now??” peter blabbed as Loki moved closer and Thor away.

Loki chuckled darkly “your futile attempts of distractions are not working” peter couldn’t help the high pitched anticipatory giggle that slipped him as the god hovered over him.

“Ehe- you know- I-HAY!” Peter almost jumped out of his skin as Lokis hand rushed towards him.

“What happened Pete?” The boys eyes grew wide- oh. Oh.

He huffed and stared challengingly at the god. He’s heard of the wrath of the god of mischief. But.. he could handle it, he’s won Mister Stark’s attacks!

His challenging glare didn’t last long as the mischief practically dripped from the god. “What are you afraid of the tickles?” Loki asked as if it were like any other conversation.

Peter shook his head with a high pitched giggle. “N-no!” “No? So you shouldn’t mind..” Loki stopped above Peter’s stomach- surprised that the boy already flinched away.

Despite himself he moved his hand towards his side and flexed it- Peter, to his delight jumped again and moved closer to the god and away from the hand.

“Peter.” Loki stated and gained the boys attention.

“Whahat?”

“Are you by chance…. Air ticklish?”

.

.

.

“uh oh” muttered Peter in utter disbelief before a steady stream of giggles escaped him. Loki’s collected expression turned to one of pure delight and mischief “oh boy.. this just got a lot more entertaining.”

Peter squeaked when the younger god made claws. “NOhOho!” The boy whined through his flustered and giggly predicament.

Thor suddenly jumped from next to Loki.

“EHEEE!”

The squeal echoed through the training room much to the gods amused and adoration at the boy- the boy himself- as if finally remembering he was free, turned around and tried crawling away.

He squeaked when a strong hand wrapped around his ankle “now hold on little spiderling!” Thor chuckled. Peter laughed at the silliness- before he could however think of how to make this harder for the gods, arms wrapped around his torso “Now I gotcha!” Loki growled and flung the boy back as if he weighted nothing.

Peter laughed without either of them even touching him- “are you laughing at us young Stark!?” Thor asked in disbelief and crossed his arms. “NOhOho!” Peter tried to reassure but failed expertly. Loki sniggered “I believe he is dear brother.. better give him something to laugh about huh?”

Thor grinned “I do believe you’re right brother” he mused.

Loki sniggered “ready to call for help yet Petey?” He muttered into his ear and the boy scrunched up with a barking a laugh “NEhEhEVER!” He declared boldly.

Loki tutted and looked at his brother. “Stark said his thighs and knees are ticklish.”

Thor chuckled at the protest of a shriek that came from Peter which though was quickly drowned by hysterical laughter as Lokis fingers went into his pits.

The god of thunder didn’t wait long for his own entrance and squeezed the boys thigh which, amusingly enough, with each squeeze they gained a higher squeal out of the boy.

Loki chuckled and shook his head, the boy could lean left or right and roll off, he could even put up a fight with his strength.. and yet..

“AHYEHE! OHOKAY!” Peter barked out and the gods let up.

Loki raised an eyebrow “you’ll call for help?” He mused and waited as the boy caught his breath.

Peter stifled most of his giggles before his hand went to squeeze Lokis own side.

To the boys surprise and glee Loki jumped.

The god sent him a warning glare “peter I’d truly advise against that” “why?” The boy grinned up at the god. “May I remind you that I am a god?”

Peter’s own mischief twinkled in his eyes “Thor will probably help me..” he mused. Loki raised an eyebrow “probably?” He mused “my brother is worse than me Buddy.”

Peter’s eyes widened at that “b-but we’ll be two!” He smiled timidly. Loki huffed “Are you going to call for help or not?”

The boy’s shoulders jumped as he chuckled through his nose.

Loki grinned “Unbelievable..” he hushed and looked at Thor. “You know, there’s a specific technique that got Thor to give in when we were children.” He said and watched as his brothers confusion morphed into surprise and glee.

Peter swallowed nervously and giggled “Thihis isn’t one ohof your Ahasgardian things right?” Loki laughed “No, this works all too perfectly on mortals”

Peter shivered at the sly grin. His silly grin fought its way right back onto his face “n-now hold on, no need for drastic- MEASURES!” He yelped when Loki suddenly rapidly squeezed and scribbled his side which sent sparks through his whole body. “HEHEY!” He squeaked and leaned away- falling onto the mats, front first, the gods hand on his back. “Uh-huh- Loki?” Peter asked and hoisted himself onto his elbows as he slowly understood his position- his face would lay awkwardly on the mats if he tried to shield his armpits. But if he kept his face from squeezing onto the mats they’d be open wide.

Loki chuckled at the giddy expression on the boys face. “You gonna call for help?”

Again. Peter shook his head.

It was fair to say that the god was not only surprised at the will to play but also at the stamina of the kid.

“Oh you’re asking for it.” He smirked down at the boy.

Peter squeaked in surprise at the demeanour change but didn’t get to dwell on it as the hands plummeted into his armpits.

“LOHOKIEHEHEEE!” Peter kicked his legs into the mats to try and relieve the tickle shocks even if only just lightly- Lokis nimble fingers found the sweet spot with practiced ease and vibrated on one armpit while on the other he scribbles.

Peter was probably loosing his lil head in the playful moment but the raging storm outside was positively forgotten.

“NAHAHAY! TOHOHOR!” Peter’s new protest made Loki look back and find Thors bold hands tickle the soles of the poor kid.

Chuckles from the door which ripped Lokis attention away from his attack and his hands slowed down enough for Peter to crank an eye open. “MIHIST- EHEY!” The boy scolded through his laughter and turned to look at Thor.

The billionaire in the doorway laughed “alright you two, let the kid up. I still need him today for lab time” Thor chuckled “do not worry stark! You’ll have young Stark with you in no time.” He mused. Loki rolled his eyes and sniggered “you good kid?”

Peter laughed but nodded and pushed Loki playfully “ahabout the move; IHi’m soho on your side- but I aham also so gehetting you back someday”

Loki raised a challenging eyebrow and then slowly, his ‘claws’.

Peter squeaked and rolled away “nohot today!” He laughed and got to his feet, hands in front of his body to protect himself.

The men laughed in choir.

“Loki we should continue training.” Thor stated, full of new enthusiasm. Loki glared at him “we are not doing get help” Thor grinned at him “we should.” Loki frowned “Peter—“

“NOPE! YOU GOT THIS!” Peter yelled with a laugh as he rushed out of the room.

The two gods laughed heartedly at the boys exit with Stark and got up. Maybe they could get along for awhile every now and again.

Meanwhile let’s hope Steve will be just as merciful as mister Stark was on Peter.

“Don’t get in trouble with them, huh?” His mentor asked with his smirk obvious in his voice.

Peter rolled his eyes with an obvious smile and flushed cheeks, his hand going through his disheveled hair.

Never mind..

[mrsbarnesblog]

firewood

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help.

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: +18❗️smut, hot neighbor bucky is a fucking warning, kinda size kink, rough sex, protected sex, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: this is one of my favorite works, so I hope everyone who hasn't read it before will like it too (it's hard to not fall for lumberjack Bucky, tbh🤷‍♀️)

“Hey, do you need help?” You stopped what you were doing. You breathed heavily, your arms ached, and you were already sweating. The man, your neighbor, whom you already saw a few times when you arrived home, was standing before you with his hands in his jeans pockets. 

He was attractive. Really handsome. Probably 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and visibly a lot of muscles under the clothes. Yeah, that red henley left nothing for your imagination. His dark hair was put in a low bun, and he had a little stubble on his face. But you mostly noticed his bright blue eyes, which looked straight at you very attentively.

“Sorry, what?” You said as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt. 

“I asked if you needed help. Sorry, but it seems like you have some troubles.” He smiled at you almost shyly, and you couldn’t even make yourself mad at his words. 

“Um, It’s my first time doing it.” You awkwardly smiled back, finally putting a big ax to the ground. “But I need wood for my fireplace, so I have to work with what I have.”

“I see… but don’t you have a boyfriend or a husband? I mean, it’s not really easy to do for a woman, and you seem pretty... petite for this?” It almost sounded like a question. “I wanted to say that I can help you if you allow me, because that thing might be really dangerous if you don’t know how to work with it, and I'm a lumberjack, so... it’s not a problem for me.” He awkwardly started to rub his neck. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“For a woman?” You playfully arched an eyebrow. “So you think that only men can do this?” You saw how his eyes widened, and you tried to hold your laughter.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He lifted both hands in the air. “It’s just gonna take you forever to do, and as I said before, It’s not the safest work. And since this is my job, I could’ve helped you. As a neighbor, you know?” 

“Relax, I’m just joking.” You softly smiled at him. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/N.” You reached out your hand. Bucky’s face relaxed, but then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“I like you.” He said, as he shook your hand. His grip was tight, and you felt that he really did a lot of physical work with his hands.

“Oh… thanks?” 

“Soo, do you need help?” He asked again.

“Um, honestly, I don’t know. I can’t just let you work for me for free. Can I pay you?”

“Doll, I have enough money, and I don’t need yours. I don’t think that you need tons of firewood, so it would be easy work for me.”

“Okay, but maybe I can give you food? Pastry? I really love to cook, and everyone said that I’m good at it.” You nervously played with your sleeve while Bucky was staring directly at you.

“Deal. I would honestly die for homemade food, ‘cause last time I ate it was at my ma’s and I really miss it. But you don’t have to do this, okay?”

“And you don’t have to help me.” You shot back.

Bucky’s smile grew wider, and he started shaking his head. “You have some temper, doll... Friday is okay?” 

“Yeah, totally, any time you’re free.” 

“Deal. I should probably go, and you better start training to cook food for me. I am really picky, and you insisted on paying me with it.” He said and started to walk back.

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed. “I know what I’m doing; don’t underestimate me!” 

“Fine. See ya, doll.” Bucky waved at you with the biggest smile on his face and finally walked away.

Well, it’s gonna be interesting. 

For the next almost two months, Bucky had been “working” for you, and you paid him with your food every single time because you couldn’t leave that man starving after he just got home from work and then willingly helped you. 

You two got closer. Bucky was a really good man; you found out it while you were sitting in your backyard looking at how his muscles were moving with every swing of the ax. He was right that it wasn't a big deal for him—the job that you would’ve been doing for several hours he did in twenty or thirty minutes. 

The conversation with Bucky was easy, he was a pretty reserved person, but he still told you everything about his job and his friends and asked you things about your life. It was hard not to fall for him. Especially when he gave you this boyish smile every time it was time to say goodbye or when you brought him your homemade food. 

Usually he comes to your house every Friday after work around 6 p.m., but today it was already 8 and he still didn’t show up. There was no light in his windows either, so you became really worried that something serious had happened. 

You were nervously sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen while your dinner was getting cold on the stove. You really had no appetite. What if he got injured from his dangerous work? Or maybe you were just overreacting and he went on a date with someone? You really had no reason to be worried that much because Bucky probably didn’t even think of you as a close friend, and you were just a too dramatic person with attachment issues. 

The light knock on the door scared you a little bit, but you still jumped out of your seat to open it. 

Bucky was standing there, visually perfectly fine and without any injuries, and you sighed with relief. 

“Bucky, oh my god, hi. Are you okay? I was really worried about you, and I don’t even have your phone number to text or call.” You mumbled as your eyes studied his face. 

“Hey, doll.” Bucky softly smiled at you, but it was obvious that he wasn’t really in the mood. “I’m fine. Just a shitty day at work. My boss went fucking crazy over nothing, and it was just a mess.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “But I have to do your firewood, so I'll go change and be back in a few minutes, ‘kay?”

He started to go back, but you caught him by his wrist. “No, Buck, wait. You don’t have to do it right now, really. I have enough wood, and you’re really exhausted. Come in; I have fresh lasagna and chocolate muffins.” 

“Um—are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to.” He mumbled. You noticed that you were still holding his wrist, but decided to leave it that way. 

“Don’t worry, I have enough food, and you look like you really need it. C’mon, don’t you want to eat something homemade and still hot after a bad day at work?” You gave him your best smile, and it was obvious in his eyes that he already agreed to your idea. 

“Okay, we can do that. Honestly, I feel like I’m able to eat a fucking elephant.” 

You both shared a laugh before you almost dragged him into your house and closed the door. Only at that moment did you realize that even though you gave Bucky a lot of food, he had never been at your place before. For some reason, you felt really excited to feed him and spend some time together. 

“Sit here while I’m heating the food.” Bucky obediently took a seat, looking with a soft smile at how you were moving around in your little kitchen.

You looked so domestic and soft in the warm yellow lights of the room in the cute pink cotton dress with little flowers all over it. The concentration was written all over your face as you tried to perfectly set plates and cutlery on the table and then put steaming lasagna on it.

“Fuck, it smells so good; you’re going to kill me, doll.” He wasn’t able to handle the amazing smell of food right in front of him. 

Your cheeks heated, and you waved your hand at him. “It’s just lasagna, Buck; don’t be dramatic.” You took a place near him, and you both started to eat your food. 

“I’m not being dramatic. I already told you that, besides my ma, you have the best food in the world. I could’ve eaten it three times a day for the rest of my life and not gotten tired of it.” He took another big bite, moaning as the taste filled his mouth. 

“You’re making me blush. No one ever told me this.”

“That’s my intention, doll. What, none of your boyfriends complemented your skills? Because I would’ve put the ring on that finger way too fast.” You looked at each other for a few seconds until you noticed that he had already finished his portion. 

“Do you want more?” Ignoring his previous words, you stood up and took his plate to give him some extra food. The dress gently flew around your thighs, drawing Bucky’s attention to your legs when you turned around. “Anyway, what happened at work? You mentioned your boss.”

“Ugh, Pierce is a fucking dipshit. Everyone there hates him, but he has too much money, so we can’t do anything. Me and Steve have really been on bad terms with him since the first day. He tries to tell us how to do our work, but his head is so far up in his ass that he can’t even listen to what we say.” You returned to your place and put a plate in front of Bucky again. The frown took place on his face while he was talking about Pierce, so you put a hand on top of his without even thinking. 

“He sounds like a total asshole. I’m sorry that you guys have to work for him.” Bucky’s face softened at your action. He flipped his hand so he could interlace your fingers, and you felt the warm feeling all over your body. 

You both definitely felt something, but you still stayed silent, enjoying the connection. It was obvious that you had feelings for each other. It was just hard to admit out loud, and, honestly, Bucky was so scared that you might think that he did all of this just to get into your pants. Which is not true. Well, he doesn’t mind, but it’s not his only intention. He wants to treat you right and ask you out on a date. 

Back then, he felt so bold and offered to help you with the firewood with the hope of getting to know you better. Steve and Sam obviously knew about his new “work” and teased him about it all day long. Unfortunately, he still didn’t find the right moment to ask you out. Those times when he came to you on Friday evenings and you were watching him work in your cute dresses or little pajamas were Bucky’s favorites. You looked so soft, cozy, and domestic that he wished to see you like this every day. 

After the last piece of a chocolate muffin disappeared in Bucky’s mouth and he let out a moan of satisfaction, he sat in your kitchen with closed eyes and a smile on his face. 

“If I had to have a shitty day just to get this type of meal at the end of the day, I’m ready for it.”

“Bucky!” You laughed at his dramatic words. “You don’t have to have a bad day. I can feed you just because.” 

“Well, you said it yourself. Now you won’t get rid of me.” You both laughed. Then he suddenly got up and started to put plates in the sink. “You sit, and I’ll wash the dishes.”

“No, Bucky, that’s not how it works!” You got up and caught him by his bicep. Really hard and big bicep. 

“Yes, it is. You’re cooking, then I’m cleaning.” He tried to get away from your grip to turn on the water, but you only held him stronger, now with both of your hands on his arms. 

“Bucky.” When he was standing so close to you, you realized your size and height difference, and it made you shiver. You turned your head up to look him in the eyes. “You are my guest; you shouldn’t do this.”

“My mother taught me to always help women because they are not our maids.” He stepped a little bit closer. “But if you’re saying this only because you want me to leave, I can do that.”

You were both looking at each other, and what you saw in his eyes made you weak in the knees. 

“No, no, I don’t want you to leave.” Your hands moved higher and fell on the sides of his neck. It was everything Bucky needed to finally kiss you.

Two large and rough hands took your face to bring your lips closer to Bucky’s height. He was gentle yet so passionate, and he slowly moved his lips against yours. It was mind-blowing how desperately you wanted him to devour you, to destroy you. While your hands were discovering his broad chest and shoulders, you felt that your body was suddenly lifted in the air and then placed on the kitchen counter.

Now that Bucky didn’t have to lean over to your height, it was easier to kiss you properly. His tongue brushed over your lips to ask for entrance, which you happily gave. Bucky felt too addicted to your taste, your smell, and the feeling of your smaller body against him. It drove him crazy.

“I've wanted to do that since the day I looked at you.” The hands on your hips tightened and moved you closer to his body. “You look so pretty, God.” Bucky’s eyes are running all over your face, trying to memorize every little thing.

“Bucky...” You dragged him closer again, desperate to connect your lips. His large hands wandered all over your body, slightly pulling up your dress and then moving higher and cupping your breasts in them. “I thought you were tired.” His large erection was obvious through his jeans, and you wanted to tease him. 

“I’m never tired for you, doll.” He mumbled against your lips. “I could’ve fucked you right on this table, but I’ll leave it for the next time. Where’s your bedroom?” You didn’t miss the promise to fuck you again, and your body felt ecstatic just because of this thought.

“Up the stairs, second door from the right.” 

Bucky didn’t say a word before your world suddenly moved, and you ended up hanging from his shoulder. Your bare ass was probably right near his face, and you couldn’t help but blush. 

He stormed up the stairs with one hand on your thigh, as if your weight on his shoulder was nothing, and then walked into your main bedroom. 

You were thrown onto your bed, and Bucky stayed in front of you for a few seconds to remember this picture. Swollen lips, eyes full of need, a short dress that pulled up and showed a glimpsing of your white underwear. Yes, you were perfect, and only for him. 

“Come here, Buck.” You raised your hands in his direction, and he obediently climbed on top of you with a smirk on his face.

He sat between your legs, moving his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs.

“Such a pretty doll for me, in this cute lil’ dress, mm?” His body was hovering over you, and when he found a zipper on the back of your dress, you ended up lying under him only in your white lingerie set in less than a minute. 

The pair of the most beautiful blue eyes devoured your naked body as soon as the piece of clothing was removed, and you had never seen a man look at you this way. Like you were the most beautiful, delicious, and priceless thing in the world. Bucky’s hands gently touched your body from the shoulders to your legs, and you swear that you heard a moan while he was doing it.

“Sweetheart.” He mumbled and leaned to gently kiss the soft skin of your belly, moving with little kisses higher until he reached your lips. “You’re killing me, you know that?” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Barnes.” It was impossible to think straight when his pretty face was right in front of you and his muscular body pushed you deeper into the mattress of your bed. He kissed you as you asked, but it didn’t last long before he pulled away with a grin on his face. You gently brushed his brown locks out of his face and tucked them behind his ears.

“So bossy, dollface... Do I have to fuck this attitude out of you?”

“Mmm, undress, and we’ll see what you are capable of.” You shot back at him, and he just moved away with a smirk on his face. 

In a few seconds, a red henley was thrown somewhere on the floor, and you were face to face with a body that was probably made by the Greek gods. Muscles on muscles, with tanned skin and freckles from the work under the sun. Now you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

“Like what you see?” His smirk became wider as he saw the look on your face: slightly parted lips and darkened eyes that were looking at him up and down. Bucky's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, and with the last movement, he was standing in your almost dark bedroom completely naked. 

You almost choked on your saliva when he pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time. He was thick and long, with an angry red head. 

“No way this is gonna fit me…”

“It will, doll. I’ll take care of it. I bet this pretty little pussy will just suck me in.” 

It was over for you. You knew that. A handsome, respectful man with a perfect body and dirty mouth? Yes, he can do whatever he wants with you.

He returned to your bed, sitting in between your spread legs. He didn’t waste any more time when he reached behind your back and unbuttoned your bra. Bucky stood on his knees so perfectly that his dick landed on your covered pussy, and it made you both moan out loud. 

“Look at this, doll. ‘M gonna destroy her.” His hips slightly moved, and because your panties were soaking wet, it was so smooth and perfect. “Can you imagine that? I will stretch you out so well that I’ll ruin any other men for you. Make you–and her– mine.” He reached with one of his hands to your tits and squeezed your nipple between his fingers, while the other one was keeping your legs apart so he would be able to move his hips. 

You tried to close your legs by instinct. The tip of his cock again and again brushed right on your clit, and the slight pain from your nipple made you desperately moan and clench your bedsheets.

“Are you going to cum, pretty girl? Im not even inside of you, and you’re already a fucking mess.” Bucky’s rough voice was so sexy that it made you even wetter, if that was possible. He saw that you were close: by the way your breathing changed and how your eyes rolled back in your head. “C'mon, just let it go. Soak those panties even more.” His movements on your most sensitive parts of the body didn’t stop, and it threw you over the edge.

You were squeezing around nothing, and the most inappropriate and dirty moan escaped your mouth. It was something that you'd never experienced before, and it was so intense that you needed some time to get over it.

“Good girl.” Bucky grabbed your face and connected your lips, giving you another wet and sloppy kiss. 

Then, without hesitation, Bucky’s hands took off the last piece of your clothing, leaving you completely naked for his hungry eyes. He stared at your body up and down for a few seconds and then closed his eyes to take a deep breath and calm himself down. 

“Bucky, please, I need you so much.” You almost cried, trying to grab him and put his body on top of yours, but Bucky was much larger than you, so it was almost impossible.

Bucky finally calmed down a little bit, and he interlaced his right hand with your left, pinning it above your head. His body softly landed on you, and skin-to-skin contact sent shivers down your spine. He was now looking you right in the eyes, and judging by his facial expressions, he either wanted to fuck you lifeless or cuddle and hold you closely.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Bucky’s soft side came out again, and you slightly nodded, giving him permission to continue. The little silver square appeared in his hand out of nowhere before he ripped the package with his teeth and put a condom on. 

You honestly tried to hold back the little bit of disappointment you felt when he decided to use protection. It was smart. You weren’t longtime partners, it was a question of your safety. But the tiny voice in your head told you that you would’ve let him fuck you without it. To feel his perfect d–

Your thoughts were cut off with a deep chuckle. “You look like you’re sad that I put on a condom, doll.” You swear that his eyes darkened when you stayed silent. “If you want it later, I’ll fuck you raw, ‘kay? But now neither of us can think straight.” 

“Are you a perfect man?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, let’s find out.” Your smile faded as soon as you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so when Bucky started teasing you again, rubbing you up and down to cover himself in your slick, you nearly lost it. 

“Bucky, please.” You whine, grabbing the side of his torso with your free hand. “Don’t tease me, please, I can’t—” 

Your words died as Bucky finally pushed inside of you. Your head fell deeper into your soft bed, and Bucky’s body tensed on top of you, trying to hold back a deep moan. 

It was overwhelming. He stretched you out so deliciously that you felt pain and inexplicable pleasure. No one ever made you feel this way—like you were on cloud nine and the man on top of you didn’t even actually fuck you yet. 

“You’re squeezing me so hard that I might cum like a teenager—fuck!” He groaned, squeezing your hand harder. “Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to relax as much as you could with a dick buried deep inside of you, and Bucky was finally able to move.

Well, if it felt good earlier, then the first movement of his hips probably sent you right to heaven. Bucky cupped your face with his left hand, locking your eyes together, when he started thrusting at a slow pace. 

“So pretty for me, doll. You feel my cock in your stomach, huh?” Bucky’s lips almost touched yours when he talked, but it felt like he was too far away from you. “Good girl, take me so well. Knew that this pussy would be my death.” 

“More... harder, please, fuck me harder.” You spoke in between moans, gazing intently at Bucky's pretty face.

He started fucking you harder. Your bed was slamming your wall, but it didn’t bother you as much as the fact that he was hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You were a fucking whining mess under him, with a slightly open mouth and a drunk-looking face.

“Suck it like a good girl you are.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, and you moaned, doing as he said. “Your pussy is already sucking the shit out of me. Are you going to cum, baby? Going to make a mess on my cock while I fuck you? Imagine if I fucked you raw and filled you up with my load. I bet you’d like that.” The finger went deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You nodded your head as much as you could at Bucky’s words because you were already ready to cum.

“Give it to me, baby.” Bucky growled, sucking on your neck. His hips slammed into yours, making the nastiest noise, but it turned you on even more. A finger slipped out of your mouth, and Bucky’s face was in front of you again. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“M-m, B-bucky! Don't stop, pl– ahhh!” The wave of the best orgasm of your fucking life washed over you. You swear the stars started dancing behind your closed eyes as you endlessly squeezed Bucky’s cock and his body.

The way you were moaning, how your eyes rolled back, and how your whole body trembled pushed Bucky over the edge. A few last movements in your soaking wet pussy and he came, feeling almost lifeless, as if you had sucked the whole energy out of him.

He let go of your hand, which this whole time he held above your head, and cupped your face with both of his hands, kissing away the tears you didn’t even notice.

“Y/N? Baby? Are you okay?” He whispered and moved your head a little bit so your eyes were directed at him. You looked like you were high or really drunk, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that you were the prettiest woman on earth.

“I– it’s like I don't feel my body anymore.” You lazily mumbled and closed your eyes. “No one ever fucked me like this.” 

“Glad to hear that, doll.” Bucky leaned closer and kissed your soft lips with more delicacy and tenderness. “Do you need anything? Food, water, bath?”

“No… Can you just hug me and stay here for the night?” You asked, now afraid that he would leave since he got what he wanted.

“Sure, just let me get rid of this thing, and I’ll still get you some water.” He kissed you on the forehead before carefully untangling his body from yours. You hissed at the new empty and a little bit aching feeling inside of you. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

Bucky threw a condom in the basket under your table and, putting on only his boxers, came down to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water. But when he came back, he saw that you had already fallen asleep.

You looked so cute—still naked, with a peaceful expression on your face, laying in the middle of your messy bed. He thought about whether he should disturb your sleep or not, but you asked him to stay, right? Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then came closer to you, placed the bottle on the nightstand, and carefully scooped you into his hands, pushing away the covers. He put you back down, and then you opened your eyes. 

“C’mere…” You mumbled, still sleepy, and grabbed his hand.

Bucky quietly chuckled and got under the cover, hugging you from the back. You happily sighed before drifting back to sleep. Bucky kissed you in the hair, hugged you harder, and fell to sleep with you in his arms.

You woke up a little bit disoriented, trying to figure out what happened last night. 

The bed beside you was empty, but the aching feeling between your legs proved that it wasn’t a dream. You, in fact, fucked your hot lumberjack neighbor. But where did he go?

You found some random oversized t-shirt and walked down the stairs. Everything was silent; your kitchen was empty but crystal clean. Did Bucky just leave? 

Wait a minute. 

Yesterday there was a mess from your cooking and dinner with Bucky.

Now the room was almost shining. 

You looked around in confusion until you noticed a piece of paper on the table. 

All of your bad thoughts disappeared as soon as you read it, and you felt butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

[buckyalpine]

40's baby Bucky & baby Reader, Present Bucky x Reader, all the flufff, a lil angst but it just adds to the fluff, promise

Bucky sat under the tree with a very prominent pout on his chubby face, his arms crossed against his chest with his brows pulled together. He wasn't happy. Not one bit. Not after his favorite ball was kicked over a fence by the other neighborhood boys.

"Bucky, do you want to play with me?" You toddled over to your best friend hoping to lift his spirits after seeing him so grumpy only to be met with a huff.

"No! Go play with Stevie instead. Leave me alone!" He frowned, brushing you off and turning his back at you to sulk facing the tree instead.

"But-

"I don't want to play with you" Bucky grumbled. Your bottom lip wobbled, dropping your shoulders as you walked off and sat by yourself under some shade on your porch. You didn't have many friends being the youngest and only little girl on your street; Bucky and Steve being the only two who included you in their games.

"Bucky's mean" You picked up one of your dolls, setting her up beside you while you toyed with a wild flowers, doing your best to keep from sniffling after he shooed you away. You knew he was upset but you wanted to make him feel better!

Of course it didn't take long for Bucky to feel bad, peeking over to see your fallen face sitting all alone on the steps of your house, eyes wet with tears which you were desperately blinking back. He got a bad feeling in his little pudgy belly, knowing he wasn't very nice to you. He knew his ma wouldn't be very happy if she heard how he'd spoken to you, especially after you were just trying to brighten his mood. He got up from his place on the grass, nicking a few flowers from his garden before shuffling over to you only to be met with your now grumpy face, crossing your arms and turning away just like he did.

"I'm sorry y/n" Bucky came and plopped beside you, moving the doll away, while clutching onto a few pink tulips. You didn't respond, still mad at him for being mean to you when you'd done nothing wrong. "C'mon jellybean, pwease?"

His baby blues were shining bright as he gave you his best puppy eyes, hoping you'd forgive him. You felt a giddy at the name he called you, one he'd given you because he thought you were sweet like one. You turned to face him while he gave you a shy little smile, placing the flowers onto your lap.

"I brought you flowers" He stated proudly, happy at the giggle you let out, setting them aside before tugging at his hand to run off and play.

-

"Y'promise you'll come back?" your eyes were wet with tears again although you were now 20 years older and the chubby boy you grew up with had grown into a very handsome soldier. He stood before you in his clean and pressed uniform, his face shaven, hair neatly cropped.

"Of course doll" He whispered affectionately, letting his thumbs swipe across your cheeks, kissing away the tears that fell. "I'll always come back to you jellybean"

"You better" You sniffled, standing on your toes to chase more of his lips as he pressed them to yours, his hands wrapping around your waist, picking you up with ease.

"M'gonna come right back to you, safe n'sound" He held you for as long as he could, rocking you close to his chest while you fought back a sob, giving him a brave smile instead.

"I love you Jamie"

"I love you jellybean"

That was the last time you saw him.

-

"This is a bad idea"

"When have I ever had a bad idea" Tony scoffed, continuing to tinker with his quantum portal while Bruce looked over numbers.

"It's not stable enough Tony, if we send someone through this, they could get stuck in an alternate timeline or we could end up changing the future-

"Yea, yea, stop worrying, hand me that spanner"

Bruce sighed, handing over the tool while contemplating on the safest way to test the machine. It wasn't ready to handle anyone actually travelling through time but at the very least they could potentially open portals to the past.

"We gotta put in a location to see if this works-how about-" Tony contemplated on a location, his eyes growing wide with excitement when he spotted Steve's diary that he'd left behind in the lab, "Let's see if Captain has any interesting places from the 40's"

"Why wouldn't you just see if we could get to the compound garden" Bruce groaned while Tony flipped through the pages, typing in an address that had been scribbled in. It was from a list of places Steve wanted to visit again from when he was a child, the address of the person listed under friends. There was only one other person listed there other than Bucky.

"Alright, call the others, let's see if this baby works"

"You're going to get us all killed" Bruce shook his head while calling for everyone to come to the lab. By now everyone was used to Tony's antics; the only one who was genuinely giddy with excitement was surprisingly Bucky. One thing he'd always loved was science; even his stoic expression couldn't hide the twinkle in his eye every time he got to see another Stark experiment.

"Glad you all made it. Now, thanks to Cap, we're going to see if we can open a portal that travels back to the 1940's. I suggest you all stand back since I haven't actually tested this before"

"Why are you like this" Nat snorted while Tony waved her off, pushing a few more buttons before hitting start. Bucky watched from the safe sidelines of the lab as the machine began to vibrate, a low buzz growing louder until a portal roared to life that lead to the inside of someone's home. Bucky and Steve were both stunned from shock seeing a flash of a very familiar living room for no longer than a second before the whole thing closed with a bang and a large puff of smoke in its place.

"Well done Mr. Playboy billionaire dumbass" Sam wheezed while the team was left coughing, the room cloudy as the loud buzz began to dull. "What was the location you even put in-

Sam stopped talking midway when he heard another voice coughing followed by mumbling coming from the place where the portal closed. The smoke hadn't yet dissipated but the shadow of a person was slowly becoming visible. Everyone froze when they realized there was someone on the platform, wondering who could've been sucked through.

"Bruce, turn on the fan-" Bruce hit the lab fan which pulled helped with the smoke revealing a young woman in a flower printed dress. An apron was still tied around her waist, flour streaked across her cheeks, a rolling pin still in her hand. "What the-

"JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES"

Bucky thought he was going to collapse as soon as he saw who was on the platform, his heart fluttering madly in his chest. He couldn't control the blush that crept up on his cheeks, butterflies bursting in his tummy, just as they did all those years ago. The young woman stormed up to the soldier, face full of fury as her palm smacked his cheek (Not hard enough to actually hurt him of course).

"HOW DARE YOU"

Everyone else in the lab silently congregated to one side watching curiously though Steve was still utterly frozen seeing-

"Y-y/n? Doll?"

"Don't you doll me" you whacked his arm with your rolling pin, huffing when it clanged back after hitting metal. That didn't seem to faze you as you switched and hit the other arm instead, making Bucky yelp. "You lied!"

You dropped your makeshift weapon to the floor, moving your hands to your hips instead, looking up and down at the man you loved with your entire heart, the man who you mourned for years after you were told he was dead. He looked much different from when you'd last seen him, the most obvious difference being an entirely new arm. His cheeks were scruffy and it was clear some form of time travel had taken place but none of that mattered. None of that mattered when the love of your life was standing right there, alive and well.

"Oh baby, no-

"Absolutely not Barnes" you huffed at the pet name he gave you, crossing your arms over your chest and Bucky thought he'd melt into an absolute puddle at the sight. He was thrown back to when you were both no more than 4 years old, with a cute little frown on your face whenever you'd get upset. "You left! I thought you-I thought you died!"

The sound of your voice cracking broke Bucky's heart, his hands itching to wrap you up and pull you close to his chest the way you loved. He could see your eyes twinkle with tears threatening to spill out while you rapidly tried to blink them away. You chewed on your bottom lip to keep from wobbling and it only made Bucky yearn to hold you and never let go.

"Sweetheart please, I didn't mean to leave you doll, I promise" He stepped closer to you, hesitantly reaching out to take your hand in his, not feeling the slightest bit conscious about his metal arm. The coolness of his hand calmed your racing heart while you sniffled, still refusing to meet his eyes as you stared down at your feet instead.

The day you'd been told he'd never come back had been the worst day of your life. You wept for months on end, losing the man you were waiting to marry. The only person you'd been in love with since you were 4 years old.

Seeing you standing there before him stirred feelings in Bucky h never thought he'd feel again. Having a home. A beautiful wife. Little chubby babies. All with his dream girl he'd loved all his life. There wasn't a day that had gone by where he didn't think about her. He didn't think he'd ever get the chance again but here you were, dusted in flour like you always were whenever you were in the kitchen, in a pretty dress he loved so much, fighting your cries after desperately missing him. He softly cupped your cheeks, swiping away at your tears, his forehead coming down to softly rest against yours. He smiled through watery eyes at your stubborn nature, still keeping your arms crossed while his nose bumped with yours.

"Jellybean" Bucky whispered, your heart melting at the name, swallowing the lump in your throat, "Please? I-I'll- I'll bring you flowers" He said with a shaky voice, nearly toppling over when you flung yourself into his arms. He caught you, squeezing you right back and lifting you off the floor to cradle you nice and tight before pulling back to smash his lips against yours. The collective sniffles and whistles from the team were drowned out by your soft giggles and warm lips.

"I missed you so much" you buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the one that comforted yo the most.

"You have no idea how much I missed you jellybean, never letting you go again"

"Terminator, you wanna introduce us?" Tony was the first to speak up, not so subtly wiping away at his eyes while Bucky continued to look at you with heard eyes, introducing you to everyone. You could only wrap your head around so much at a time but nothing truly mattered now that you were back with your soldier.

And of course your other best friend.

"Steve" You giggled as Steve lifted you up with ease into a tight hug, grinning at his two friends finally getting the life they deserved together.

Seriously imagine how sickeningly cute these two would be. Bucky is so excited to teach you all about the future. He gets to show you how to use all the new technology around the compound. He's so naughty about it too, teasingly telling you he'd be happy to help you in the shower if there's any questions you has about water temperature.

He doesn't waste any time with asking to marry you. Its everything you've ever dreamed of and more considering Tony took the bill and ran. Bucky can't put into words how happy he is finally getting the life he thought was ripped from his hands.

On your wedding night, Bucky spends hours loving on you like there's no tomorrow which is why a few months later, your belly is swollen with your first baby. Bucky is thankful for the future because as excited as he is to start a family, he's scared shitless something could happen to his jellybean.

"Bucky, I'm fine-

"Absolutely not, why are you up Jellybean, go sit down, I'll bring breakfast to you"

"I can still walk y'know-

"Nope. You stay right there, don't move mama, just rest"

When you do have to move around, he's there holding your baby bump, feeling giddy over becoming a dad. He can't wait to meet his little baby that he's made with his dream girl.

After his son is born, he waits for your body to heal but no ones surprised to see you with a new bump not too long after.

Two baby boys are no match for all the avengers but they all happily share their god father and god mother duties.

Your third is a little girl and she's going to be spoiled by everyone.

Somewhere along the way, you get a white fluffy cat.

Bucky's life has never been better.

[marvelouslizzie]

One More Night

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, friends with benefits, idiots in love, unspoken feelings, miscommunication/misunderstandings, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.4K

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

It is one of those days when you feel absolutely worthless. It wasn’t something you felt often before but now…. It is starting to feel like your new normal. You know it’s your fault, and it just makes you feel even worse. You let this happen when you let Bucky Barnes walk into your life without any consequences. Now he just has a free pass to destroy you anytime he wants. 

It was supposed to be just fun. Something casual because you know he has no intention of settling down. Especially not with you. Not that he said any of those words but he doesn’t need to. You just know it. 

He’s one of the popular guys in your college. It’s not surprising considering how handsome and charming he is. He’s also talented and hard-working. He takes school seriously unlike a lot of people around you. So when it comes to his free time, he just wants to have some fun, no strings attached and you were fine with this arrangement. You wanted to be close to him and this is the price: Your heart breaks every time. 

You don’t blame him but you definitely blame yourself because you put yourself in this position. If you weren’t so pathetic, you could simply say no and this regularly hooking-up arrangement of yours would have ended. Yet you never said no and he never stopped coming back to you. Probably because it’s convenient, you can’t come up with any other reason. Like who says no to an easy fuck, right? That is what you are. An easy fuck. Still, it’s breaking your heart every time he leaves your bed. You say to yourself “This is gonna be the last time” but when the next text or call comes, you fold once again. 

That’s how you ended up here. Your face is buried in the pillow while Bucky is pounding you from behind. It feels good. Actually, it feels pretty amazing. It always does but this time your emotions are overshadowing the physical pleasure. Tears are streaming down your face and you are grateful that he can’t see it thanks to this position. Then a sob escapes your mouth and you feel betrayed by your own body.

“Does it feel that good, doll?” He sounds smug but you can’t answer him. Not while trying to hold the rest of your sobs back. That seems to worry him. He suddenly stops and when he takes a closer look sees that your eyes are filled with tears.

“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” He sounds genuinely worried. You try to say something but instead, more sobs come out. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”

He didn’t physically hurt you, yet you are hurt. You don’t know how to explain this to him. You feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. You pride yourself on how good you are at hiding your emotions. You don’t want anyone to see you cry. You don’t want anyone’s pity. Yet here you are. Eyes filled with tears, sobs escaping your lips and your heart is shattered.

“Please talk to me!” His desperate tone snaps you out of your thoughts. You try to turn on your back and quickly dry your tears. 

“It’s fine. Sorry for killing the mood. I just…” You hesitate for a second but no, you won’t back down this time. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s fine.” That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “You know it’s okay right?” His worry is so apparent in his voice. “You can always tell me to stop.” What is he talking about? “If you don’t like something or you don’t feel like it anymore… Just tell me next time and I will just stop.”

“There’s no next time Bucky.” The words come out of your mouth before you can process them. You didn’t intend to be so harsh but it came out so definite.

“What?”

“I’m telling you that I can’t do this…” You wave your hand between you two. “...anymore. I’m done. We are done.” 

“What…” He sounds shocked and hurt at the same time. You try to avoid looking at his eyes while he struggles to find the right words. “What are you talking about? Did I do something?”

“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault.” You have no intention to blame him. You know it’s on you. He never promised you anything.

“I don’t understand.” He sounds so lost. “Just help me understand what happened, okay? I thought everything was okay.”

“They were, for you. It was never okay for me.” 

You watch how his expression changes into something that breaks your heart even more. You never thought he would care this much but… apparently, he does. Maybe he’s not used to being rejected. Especially in the middle of sex.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” He looks at your face and then around. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

“What I wanted?” You repeat his words without missing a beat. “I never wanted this. This is what you wanted and that’s why we kept doing it. I was just…” You hesitate for a second because you hate to admit it. “weak.”

“Weak? You are never weak.”

“Oh, I am weak. This is why I kept saying ‘one more night’ to myself whenever you called or texted me. I’m weak as fuck and it makes me angry, okay? I shouldn’t be like this.”

“Doll, what are you talking about?”

His confusion confuses you as well. Can’t he see how much he’s hurting you? Is he really that blind or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“This arrangement might be working for you but it’s not working for me, okay?”

“But… this is what you wanted.”

“I never wanted this.”

“You said we can’t get emotions involved!” He sounds somewhat angry this time.

“Because you didn’t want emotions involved!” Your answer comes instantly.

“When did I ever say that?”

His question makes you stop for a second. He never said that but did he really have to? You know how popular he is. Everybody loves him. He has the prettiest face you have ever seen. You desperately wanted to be with him. You didn’t care how.

“Just look at you.”

“What does that even mean?” Is he doing this on purpose? He surely knows everybody wants him. Why does he have to hear it from you?

“It means you didn’t have to say it.”

“How does… I really don’t understand you.” His confusion is written all over his face. The way he hesitates makes you realize you have to say it out loud to make him understand.

“You are handsome. You are talented. Everybody loves you.” He keeps looking at you with confusion. He really doesn’t get it, does he? “You can have anybody you want!”

“Apparently not.” Why does he sound broken?

“Oh, come on!” Your reaction is instant. “You know you can. Don’t act humble. I’m just easier.”

“Easier?” You don’t miss the disbelief in his voice. “Easier?” This time it comes out more angry. “You were never easy!”

“You know what I mean. An easy fu-”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” The tone of his voice startles you. You never heard him talk like this. “I never wanted just an easy fuck. Especially not with you but that was all I could get!” Your head flinches back slightly. What is he talking about? 

“Bucky…” He doesn’t let you continue. 

“I don’t know what has gotten into you because this… what you called it? Arrangement, yes, was never my idea! You were the one who didn’t want to involve emotions. You were the one who said anything more than this would affect our friendship. I never said that!”

“I was trying to protect myself!”

“You never showed any interest to me!”

You blink a couple of times, trying to process that information. What did he think you were doing with him?

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You never showed any interest in staying over. You never wanted to do anything outside the bedroom or wherever the fuck we were fucking. Whenever I tried to take you on a date, you came up with a lazy excuse.”

“Uh… what?”

“I tried so many times, sweetheart. You never let me in. You were only interested in sex and now you are blaming me for it. No. Be honest. If you wanna end this thing, it’s fine. You don’t need any lies. I get it. I knew it would happen eventually.” He’s speaking so fast, you can’t even find any opportunity to interrupt him until he stops.

“You tried to take me on dates?” He squishes his eyebrows together like he can’t believe you are focusing on that part.

“Many times. I suggested study dates, tried to take you on that concert, then that one comedy club thing…”

“I thought…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence.

“You thought what? You knew what I was trying to do and you weren’t interested, so I finally gave up.”

“No, no, no.” You jump from your awkward position on the bed. “I never realized.”

“What did you think I was doing?”

“I thought… they were activities with other… people. Not dates.”

“Why would I take other people to a concert with us?” Oh, he really doesn’t get it.

“I thought… you had plans with your friends and… you were… inviting me as well. Just to show… we are nothing more than friends.”

“Oh, dear god.” He covers his face with both of his hands. “Seriously? Why would you even think that?”

You mimic him and cover your face with embarrassment. You don’t want to say it. Especially not to him.

“I… just never thought…” You don’t know how to say it without making him realize how low you think of yourself. “You were interested in anything more than sex.”

“I’m handsome. I’m popular. Everybody loves me. Is that why?” He repeats your words with that god-awful mocking tone and it hurts to hear. What you don’t realize is that he’s making fun of himself.

“Yeah.” Your response comes out so weakly but he hears it.

He starts to laugh all of a sudden and all you can do is give him a confused look. 

“God you are so blind.”

“Hey!” You instantly respond.

“Have you ever looked in the mirror?” You make a face but it just spurs him. “You are gorgeous and smart. I always thought you were way out of my league.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You are out of my league.”

“Come on… That’s-” He interrupts you again.

“Please.” The way he says it makes you stop talking. “I have been struggling to come to terms with you not liking me. I just told myself, you have done everything you can. You tried so many times. It’s a miracle she still wants to fuck you. I convinced myself this was all I could get so I tried to make peace with it. Now you are telling me you don’t want to keep doing this. What did you think I was gonna think?”

He just baffles you with every word coming out of his mouth. You look at him, not knowing what to say or what to think, even.

“And you thought you were just an easy fuck? Jesus, doll. Do you have any idea how many times I prepared myself for rejection? Every time I called you, I thought you weren’t gonna pick up. Every time I texted you, I prepared myself to hear ‘no’, and every time it did not come, I was the happiest man on earth because I had one more night with you!”

You don’t know when it started but you start to feel tears filling your eyes.

“Please don’t cry anymore.” He moves his hand on your face and catches a tear before it drops on your cheeks.

“I…” It’s so hard to speak normally. “I never thought…”

“What?” This time it comes out softer. You know he wants to hear it because he needs that assurance as much as you do.

“You would actually like me.”

“Like you? Oh, doll… I don’t like you. The word like doesn’t even cover it.” The smile he gives you ignites something inside you. Something you tried to push down for a long time. Suddenly you push him back a little bit and his mouth falls open but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything. You just sit on his lap, taking him back inside you and it slips right back in so easily. It makes you want to moan out loud but instead, you wrap your legs around his torso and trap him there.

“Oh fuck…” His moan is like music to your ears. It’s so raw and unfiltered.

You don’t say anything. Your hand wraps around his neck before you start to move. His hand quickly finds your breasts, squeezing them a lot harder than he ever did before. 

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your neck and his lips attach to your neck as if he knows what you want. He starts gently. First, he sucks the skin and makes you whimper. Then his teeth graze the sore skin. When he finally bites the same spot, you realize he was just giving you some time to protest but it never came. His bite pulls a groan out of you and the way it hurts falters your rhythm.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He licks the same spot, trying to soothe the pain. “There’s a part of me…” He tries to find the right word. “...that wants to mark you. Show the world that you’re mine.” Fuck, is he serious? He stops for another second to ask “Are you mine, doll?” He sounds so nervous yet possessive.

“I am.” You move a little back and look into his eyes while saying that. “I have been for a long time.”

He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, making you burn with passion.

“I’m yours, too. I think I always have been.” 

It’s your turn to show how much those words mean to you. You start to move again on his lap. This time it’s faster than before and it just makes both of you moan loudly. He wraps his arms around your body while he supports your movement by grabbing your ass and moving you a bit faster than before.

“Shit!” It feels good but it also restricts your range of movement and he realizes it quickly.

“Sorry. I just want to feel you all over me.”

You want to say it’s alright but he’s a lot faster than you. Suddenly you find yourself on your back. Bucky’s still between your legs. He never left inside you while changing the position. 

“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” 

God, the way he says it sounds like a soft order. You can practically feel the desire running through your veins. Your legs are automatically wrapped around his ass while he starts to move but he doesn’t put any distance between you. His whole body is pressed against yours while he’s kissing and licking all over your neck.

Sex with Bucky never felt like this. It was always good. You don’t remember any occasion you didn’t enjoy it or reach orgasm. Yet this feels like real intimacy. The way he’s making you feel is indescribable. You can feel everything he said before while he moves inside you. How much he wants you, how much he adores you… The way he clings to you fills you with love. All of it enhances the physical pleasure. Loud moans escape your lips.

“So… All this time…” Bucky starts to talk. “You thought I was here because this is easy.”

Ah, fuck. He isn’t gonna let that go, is he? You should’ve known that. You roll your eyes in response but he doesn’t see it. His head is still buried in the crook of your neck.

“All this time… I was where I wanted to be.” Your annoyance quickly fades away as he keeps talking. “Underneath your body.”

“You weren’t always underneath me.” You answer him with a playful tone.

“As long as I’m inside you, the position doesn’t matter.”

“So…” You try to ask as quickly as possible before your sudden courage disappears. “You haven’t been sleeping around with anyone else.”

He raises his head just to look into your eyes. 

“All this time, you thought I was fucking other people?”

“I mean…” You were just friends with benefits. What else you were supposed to assume?

“Were you?”

“Was I what?”

“Fucking other people?” His question is a lot more blunt than yours.

“I asked first!” You sound so defensive all of a sudden.

“I can’t live without touching you, smelling you, feeling you… I have been craving you non-stop, only stopping myself from calling you every day, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and you are asking me if I have been fucking other people. Jesus Christ, doll. How blind are you?”

You are questioning the same thing yourself, to be honest. How blind were you? While trying to surpass your feelings, you were overlooking his, as well. It’s just unbelievable.

“Doll?” You didn’t realize you were lost in thoughts. “It’s fine if you have been.” It doesn’t sound fine at all. It sounds like he’s trying to rationalize it so it would hurt less. “I’m not saying I won’t be jealous but it’s not like we were actually together.”

You start to laugh and he gives you a strange look.

“You are such an idiot and you call me blind.”

“What?”

“I only ever wanted you, you moron.” 

His smile is so big and bright, it’s worth everything you two went through. His happiness is practically radiating. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you like a madman.

“You’re only mine.” He starts to move inside you again and you can feel how close you are to coming.

“Only yours.” Your words make him groan loudly. 

“Fuck that mouth of yours. You’re gonna make me come before you.”

“You can do that later.” You tease him while moving your hips to meet him.

“Is that a promise?”

“It can be. Only if you fuck me just a little harder so I can finally come!”

That makes him move away from you. He stands up and without losing any time, pulls you on the edge of the bed. You know what’s coming and it makes you smile like a fool. He positions himself between your legs while pushing your knees on your chest. In a couple of seconds, he’s back inside you but the position feels so much better this time. A loud moan leaves your lips every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.

“Harder, huh?”

“Yeah. Just like that.” It’s so hard to not roll your eyes with the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s familiar yet it feels so different this time.

“My girl wants it rough. Why didn’t you just say so?” He sounds cocky there’s also a hint of eagerness in his voice. You can tell he’s close.

“Do I have to tell you everything?” 

“From now on, yes. You have to tell me everything.” That authoritative tone pushes you over the edge. “Every fucking thing you feel, okay? Every fucking thing you want. I wanna know everything!”

“Yes!” You practically scream. You don’t know if you are answering him or just screaming because of the way he makes you feel. Your legs are shaking violently while your whole body tightens up. “Fuck yes. Please, please, please, don’t stop!” Your eyes are closed while you are riding your high.

That makes him groan so loudly. Even though you can’t directly look at his face anymore, you just know he’s about to come. He starts to pound on you so forcefully, it just unlocks another level of orgasm for you. Both of your moans fill the room and he keeps going until he empties himself inside you. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of you and lays right next to you.

“Fuck, that was…” The struggles to find the right word.

“On another level?” You offer to end the sentence for him. That’s exactly how you feel.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “We should’ve talked to each other before.”

“We were busy doing other stuff.” You smile and he smiles back, knowing exactly what you mean.

“I guess we did everything other than talking things through, huh?”

[pellucid-constellations]

Faking It

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was in love with his girl—disgustingly, annoyingly so. Enough to start fights on the ice just to make sure he saw her after a game.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: This is FLUFF!! With HOCKEY MAN

a/n:​​​ This was originally something completely different but then I hated it so now it's all fluff and now I do not hate it. Pleaseeeee let me know what you think and if you enjoy it!! I love you thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist

~~

“Jesus Christ, Buck. Again?” 

Bucky grinned, split lip tightening uncomfortably. When he turned to his captain, he had the gall to act oblivious. “What do you mean, captain?” 

Steve gave him a disapproving look. “Give it up, pal. There was no need to pick a fight with that guy and you know it.” 

“He was talking shit about the team!” 

“They’ll always be a player talking shit about the team.” 

“Then why’re you breathing down my neck right now, huh? We won. Be happy, Cap,” Bucky encouraged, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Steve raised a brow back at him but was clearly fighting back a smirk. Bucky could tell by the way his eyes lifted, contrasting his deep—albeit fake—frown. 

In truth, Bucky had been looking for a fight. He’d been looking for a plethora of fights since the start of the season, and was usually quite successful with his venture. It had garnered him quite the reputation, but where the crowd saw it as a short-fuse on a large man, Steve saw it for what it really was. 

An opportunity to see you. 

And while Steve could appreciate the dedication, it made one of his best players ride out unnecessary time in the penalty box. 

“I am happy. Just not with you,” Steve clarified, knocking Bucky’s arm away. 

Bucky let out a sound close to a scoff. “Even with my extra time in the sin bin I still helped carry. It’s just part of the game, Steve. Gotta protect the team’s pride.” 

“Yeah,” Steve drawled sarcastically, stopping in front of the locker room doors. “I’m sure that was your reasoning. What was it last game? Someone said something about your ma?” 

“Hey, he did.” 

“They always do.”

Heavy footsteps created a commotion in the hall, the rest of the team finally catching up with the pair. They funneled their way into the room for showers and a fresh change of clothes, and Steve stood with his crossed arms leaning against the wall, somehow still directing an admonishing look towards Bucky amidst the crowd. Bucky did his best to look baffled by the unspoken accusation, but then Sam Wilson passed by and Bucky’s ploy was disintegrated. 

“Hey man,” Sam greeted, slapping a friendly hand against Bucky’s arm as he passed. “You let someone beat the shit out of you again so you could go see your girl?” 

Bucky’s scoff returned, but this time Steve was having none of it. He kicked off of the wall and went to follow the rest of the team into the locker room. Bucky watched with a grimace, not only caught, but put on display.

“You know,” Steve called over his shoulder, not expecting Bucky to follow. “You’re dating the girl now. You don’t gotta keep up with this whole schtick.” 

“I don’t have a schtick,” he called back. At the responding laugh from Steve, Bucky yelled, “I don’t!” but no one was listening to him. Or believing him. 

But fine. If his schtick involved you, in any capacity, Bucky would admit to having one. 

Some of what Steve said was right. Bucky was dating you now. You were his girl and that would imply total access to you all the time, whenever he wanted. He didn’t need to pick fights or feign injuries anymore (the latter never really worked anyways), because he had a key to your apartment. And you were in his bed more weekends than not. 

But, damn, were you busy right now. 

Bucky had never really considered how much schooling went into becoming a physical therapist until he met you. You were typically swamped with papers and tests and requests from Dr. Cho, but this past month had been exponentially worse thanks to finals. He had seen you about once a week if he was lucky, and that was a generous estimation. Add your crazy schedule to the alarming amount of away games he had over the past few weeks and he was champing at the bit to see you. 

Bucky just prayed it was you in the training room today and not Dr. Cho. His odds were pretty favorable considering the team’s main trainer didn’t usually stick around after games if there were no major injuries, but there was always the off chance she let her interns go home early. But, knowing you, you would be in that room until the rink lights went off. 

God, he loved you. Every overworked, high-strung bit of you. 

He even loved the scolding look you shot him as he pushed open the training room doors, his bruises and cuts on full display. You dropped the pen you were tapping against an overflowing notebook and rocketed out of your rolling stool, and Bucky adored the way you stomped over to him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the curse you clearly wanted to let free. 

“Hey, baby,” Bucky smiled, this time ignoring the sting in his lip. “Funny seeing you here.” 

You huffed, bringing careful fingers up to his chin. “Not very funny,” you mumbled. “Not when you look like someone hit you with their car.” 

Bucky let you fuss for a moment, following your touch as you turned his head back and forth and examined his split knuckles. This was your job, so obviously he let you do it, but he enjoyed watching you. So he didn’t stop you from lifting his jersey up to inspect his middle, because how else would he catch the cute way you scrunch your nose up in concentration? If he pulled his hands away when you started testing the range of motion in his wrists, when else would he be able to track your lips as you softly counted and mouthed gentle confirmations? 

Never. Because you were so damn busy. 

“Missed you,” Bucky said after sneaking a kiss on your forehead while you were prodding at the bruise on his collarbone. “I’ve been missing you a lot.” 

You let a small smile interrupt the disgruntlement on your face. Bucky grinned at the change, pressing another kiss to your hair while he still could. 

“Did you miss me enough to send a right hook into that guy’s jaw?” 

“Yes.” 

Your smile was gone again. Now you looked aghast. “Bucky.” 

“What?” he exclaimed, sliding his torn hands from your healing ones to wrap you in his embrace. “You want me to lie instead? Okay, fine. No, sweetheart, I didn’t start a fight just to have an excuse to see you. That guy got all these punches in on me because I’m out of practice, is all. I don’t think about you every waking second of my life, and while we’re at it, no I did not use your shampoo this morning because I miss how—”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, resting your forehead on the divot in his chest. “I get it. Thanks for being truthful.” 

Bucky relished in the feel of you. He had been slightly worried that his state would cause you to be more upset than anything. If you weren’t so tired right now, there was a high chance you’d be yelling at him because of his recklessness instead of resting against his chest. So Bucky jumped at the opportunity, trailing one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. He craned his neck down, burying his face into the juncture of your neck. 

He hadn’t been lying about the shampoo. 

“I miss you too. Even if you act like an idiot sometimes,” you mumbled against his jersey. 

Something in Bucky felt lighter, warm. “Acting like an idiot’s the only way I get to see my girl.” 

You hummed. “Sorry ‘m so busy.” 

You had to be exhausted. Not even a single reprimand had tumbled from your mouth. Bucky had expected at least three. 

“When’s the last time you slept, baby?” Bucky kept his voice low, his thumb making unconscious circles against your hair. 

“I don’t know. In the night.” 

“Okay, thanks smart ass.” Bucky jostled you a bit until your eyes met his. “I meant when did you last take a break? Get a good night’s sleep?” 

You sighed, gaze trailing over his face. “Let me fix you up. Then we can play twenty questions.” 

“Baby—”

“No, Buck, this is the training room, if you haven’t noticed,” you quipped, stepping back and rifling through a few drawers. “Take a seat and I’ll fix you. That’s my job.” 

“Well, what about my job?” he grumbled back. 

“You have failed at your job. Your job is hockey and you instead played human punching bag.” 

“Not that job. My other job. The one where I take care of you.” 

You spun on your heel, a basket of supplies resting on your hip. The sweater that engulfed your frame had the university’s logo stamped across the front, but instead of jeans or slacks—the usual uniform for PT interns—you wore leggings. Your hair was pulled back in the most endearing, pretty mess, and Bucky’s chest hurt as he looked at you. 

“My tired girl,” he hummed, bringing his hand up to your cheek as you pushed him down on the exam chair. He sat if only to appease you, his feet still flat on the floor even with the tall seat.

“I’m only a little tired,” you weakly fought. Bucky chuckled in response, sanitary paper crinkling beneath him. “Now let me clean you up.” 

You snapped gloves onto your hands and Bucky fought back a petulant whine. If he had been any other member of the team, those gloves would have been on the second they walked in the door. He should be grateful, then, that you only put them on when it was time to tend to his wounds, but he wasn’t. He missed you too much to feel latex instead of your skin. 

Bucky’s lip stung as you cleaned it, but he hardly flinched. If he moved, he would miss the pretty way you bit into your lip as you stared at him. 

“Remember when I’d be in here all the time?” he asked when you turned back down to grab antibiotic cream. 

You let out a tired laugh. “How could I forget? You picked a fight every game. If that didn't work you’d come stumbling in here complaining about a torn ACL or whatever. Big liar.” 

“I wouldn’t call it lying.” 

The smile you gave him was replicated on his own face. 

“You were literally lying.” You dabbed the cream on his lip, and then moved to the cut on his cheek. “You would come limping in here and then I’d see you an hour later running out to the parking lot.” 

“You wouldn’t look at me if I wasn’t injured.” 

“It was my job, Bucky!” you laughed, eyes giving away your amusement. “I wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with the players. I’m pretty sure Cho only lets us be together because you wouldn’t leave her alone otherwise.” 

Bucky moved his hands from his thighs to your waist, tugging you closer as you worked. “Hey, sometimes drastic measures are needed.” 

“You called her multiple times a day… bought her an edible arrangement. Wait, didn’t you offer to drive her kids to school a few times?” 

“It worked, didn’t it,” he posed, nudging his nose against your cheek. You giggled, lightly slapping his arm to get away. 

“The edible arrangement was a good touch,” you relented. 

Bucky released you as you wiggled from his grip, flitting around the training room to put supplies back. He spotted your backpack in the corner of the room, unzipped with the water bottle tipping out. When you sat down at the computer to document his care, which he found a bit ridiculous (you only put a bandaid on his face), Bucky walked over and gathered your things. He did so slowly so you wouldn’t notice; you probably had plans to stay at the rink for another few hours, and that was not okay with him. 

With a final zip and your water bottle now standing upright, Bucky meandered over to your seated position. He hooked his chin over your shoulder as you worked, leaning over and tapping your phone screen for the time. His heart twisted warmly in his chest when he saw a picture of himself smiling under the 8:00 pm displayed on the homescreen. 

After all the pining and work it took to get you, Bucky often felt this wasn’t real. 

God, he loved you. 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” you whispered, clicking away at the computer. “I still have some charting to do. Peter hit his head yesterday and I have to do the follow up work.” 

Still in his uniform, Bucky wrapped you up from behind. Now you would both need a shower and he could get you to leave. He kissed the back of your head, and then your temple, and then your cheek as he craned his neck to watch you work. You smelled like fresh laundry and books and the subtle hint of your perfume.

“Parker’s fine. He was up and playing today. Let’s go home, baby,” Bucky murmured, most of his words spoken against your skin. 

“I know he’s okay. But head injuries are a completely different protocol and I have to—” 

“I miss you,” he reiterated. “And you’re working too hard. All the lights are off in the rink ‘cept for this one. Come back to my place. Let me take care of you.” 

“Why don’t you shower and change first? I’ll leave with you once you finish.” 

Bucky spun your stool around suddenly, one hand on your waist, the other reaching back to steady himself on the desk now at your back. “Oh no, don’t try to pull that on me. I get back in here, you’re gonna tell me you started something new you can only finish on the PT computer and you can’t leave for another hour. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

You let out a quick sigh, caught. “Well, what about—” 

“Nope,” Bucky interrupted. He used his far hand to shut the facility computer and then guided you up. “You’re coming home with me. You’re gonna sit in the car while I drive you to my apartment and then we’re gonna take a shower together and I’m gonna make you feel so good you don’t even remember what a concussion is.” 

“Bucky,” you chastised, hiding your face in his shoulder. 

His laugh shook your head. “Still so damn shy.” He reached down to grab your bag, slinging it over his shoulder and placing a hand on the back of your neck, meeting your averted gaze. “Just me in here, baby.” 

“I know. But you don’t have to be so vulgar.” 

“Vulgar? Sweetheart, if you want vulgar I’ll tell you exactly what I’m gonna do to you the second we—” 

You slapped your hand over his mouth, careful for the delicate skin there. Still, Bucky was sure you could feel his smile against your skin, and he fought back an even bigger one when he saw the embarrassed twist of your brow. 

Slowly, he pried your wrist down, kissing the palm of your hand on the way. “Sorry,” he whispered, not sorry in the slightest.

You pursed your lips, flustered. “You’re such an antagonizer.”

Bucky could do this every day and never grow tired of it. It had been months now and he found himself only wanting you more. 

“Can’t help it. I love you.”

Your faux annoyance morphed into a bashful smile, the kind Bucky remembered from his time faking injuries. It was reminiscent of when you were trying not to laugh at his jokes, or smile at his flirting, or give him any reaction he was looking for. 

But he always got what he wanted in the end. 

And, more than anything, he wanted you. 

“That one do the trick?” Bucky asked. “Am I finally getting my girl to come home with me?” 

When you looked up at him with raised brows and a smile twisted up at the corners, he knew you’d given up. Perfect timing, too, because—in all honesty—Bucky had been punched in the side during his on-ice tussle, and his ribs were starting to hurt. You were going to be pissed when you saw the bruise form tomorrow morning, but you would be pissed in his bed, so it was worth it to Bucky.

“I have to get a little bit of homework done when we get there,” you reasoned, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend. 

He threw his hands up in surrender, dropping one down over your shoulders as you both walked out. “Okay, okay. Homework at my place, I got it.” 

“That comes first, Bucky. Before anything else. Shower, then homework, and then… other things.” 

“I know what first means, baby.” 

“Good.” 

But Bucky had other plans, and they did not involve homework. He was pretty sure you were ahead, anyways. Like, weeks ahead, actually. 

“You eat dinner yet?” he asked, fishing his keys from his pocket. 

You looked up at him, incredulous. “What did I just say?” 

“What?” he defended, tugging you closer as the wind in the parking lot whipped at your clothes. “I can’t make sure my girl’s had dinner? What am I allowed to do?”

You only scoffed, tucking yourself further into his side. “Keep me warm.” 

“Always, baby.” 

[navybrat817]

I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺

I know the feeling, nonnie.

Check Yes or No

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”

He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.

One glance and he belonged to you completely.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.

“I’m Bucky.”

Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.

Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”

Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.

He suddenly wished he was funnier.

“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.

Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.

“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”

You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”

“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”

“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.

How did he miss you already?

Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.

Which made him happy.

While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.

“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.

Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.

Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.

The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?

He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.

When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”

He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.

He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.

“Lunch again next week?” You offered.

“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.

But it wasn't a date.

It was time to change that.

Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.

“Meow.”

Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.

Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.

“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”

He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.

Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.

Except for him.

“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”

His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.

He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?

To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.

“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”

Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.

Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair

Maybe one day.

Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.

Until you smiled again.

“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.

His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.

After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.

“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”

The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.

That was all he wanted.

You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”

The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”

“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”

Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.

“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”

“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”

Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.

Not once.

Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.

“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” you smiled.

“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.

“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”

Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”

He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.

For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.

We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

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