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sergeantxrogers · 2 months

Note

Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you

Request: "Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none, just fluff

Note: hooooly shit guys, i've been gone for way too long. hope you enjoy <3

_____

The jingle of keys in the doorknob had you lifting your eyes from your book, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing softly. The quiet whispers of a jacket being taken off, laces being untied, keys being set on the small table beside the door travelled through the apartment, meeting your ears and bringing a smile to your face.

Soft footsteps padded against the hardwood floor, careful to avoid any creaky spots.

"I'm awake, Buck," you called out softly from the comfort of your bed, and you heard him pause his movements. And then continue, a bit quicker than before.

Brown hair and blue eyes popped around the the edge of the door frame, brows furrowed. "It's midnight. Why are you still awake?"

You shrugged, sitting up in bed and setting your book aside. "Dunno, really. Got caught up reading."

Bucky frowned, and stepped into the room, walking over to the bed. "You can't sleep?"

It was a casual question, but you sensed the undertone of worry laced through it, and smiled to yourself.

"Actually, I spent most of the evening redecorating, so I'll probably start snoring as soon as the lights are off."

Bucky's hands reached for yours, grabbing them and bringing them up to his lips as he stood in front of you. One, two, three kisses along your knuckles. One hand, then the other.

"Redecorating?" he murmured against your skin, and you nodded slyly. His eyes narrowed, partially in amusement, partially in curiosity.

You cleared your throat and pulled your hands back, settling yourself back into the fluffy down of your pillows and blankets. "How was work today?"

At your question, Bucky's jaw ticked.

"It was fine."

You studied him for a few seconds, and cocked your head. "Just fine?"

He let out a heavy sigh, then collapsed atop the comforter at the foot of the bed. On nights like this, when he came home later than usual, the tension in his shoulders a bit more prominent than usual, the bags under his eyes a bit heavier, he found it hard to form sentences adequate enough to explain how he felt or what he needed.

Ever since the government cleared him of all charges and his mandated therapy ended, Bucky had taken up a job at the DCSA.

Defense Counterintelligence and Security Agency.

On paper, James Buchanan Barnes was an ordinary, ex-military security guard working for the Department of Defense and the United States.

In reality, the executive branch of the federal government reached out to him themselves and offered him a job doing what they claimed he did best: making people disappear, and making it seem like an accident. He was hesitant at first, unwilling to be the very thing he tried so hard to run away from being, but soon enough, they had made it very clear he had limited options: accept the position, or get thrown in prison for all the charges they claimed to have dropped.

So, for all his hesitating and hatred, Bucky Barnes was the United States government's own personal hitman, killing anybody who posed a threat to the life of the president, his family, or anybody in the Senate.

At least they paid better than HYDRA, Bucky had once joked. You could see, in his eyes, how much it pained him to revert back to his old ways, once again not having a choice.

Bucky cleared his throat, and glanced at you, blinking away the shadows behind his eyes.

"It's fine, sweetheart. I promise. It could have been worse."

Your heart cracked in your chest and you frowned, burying your cheek even deeper into your pillow as you looked at him. "If you say so."

Bucky pursed his lips to the side, then looked toward the door connecting your bedroom to the bathroom. Without a word, he got up, walking towards the bathroom and simultaneously pulling his shirt over his head. You smiled to yourself as you watched him disappear behind the door, flicking the lights on and letting the soft, yellow glow flood the floor of your room. You listened to him shuffle about, letting out a soft sigh as he unbuckled his belt.

His movements paused.

Your smile grew.

"Y/N?" he called out.

"Yes, babe?"

The door creaked open all the way, and behind it stood Bucky, holding his toothbrush in one hand, with a confused look on his face.

"Why is there a pink bow on my toothbrush?"

It took all your strength not to burst into a fit of giggles immediately as you schooled your face into one of nonchalance, and said, "I told you. I redecorated."

Bucky's bewildered eyes flickered from you, to the toothbrush, then back to you. Then he turned to look at the bathroom. And you saw the exact moment in which he realized there were pink bows everywhere. Big, small, light pink, dark pink, neon pink, cotton, silk, linen. A variety of ribbons tied in bows around everything you could think of: toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo bottles, the soap dispenser, the toilet brush, the towel rack, your skincare bottles, his deodorant and cologne.

"Y/N," Bucky said calmly.

"Yes?" you replied, batting your eyelashes innocently.

"Can you please tell me, why, exactly, you decided on redecorating with pink bows everywhere?"

You hummed, then shrugged. "You know, I'm not exactly sure. I just think they make pretty things look so much prettier. I may have gone a bit overboard, though."

"You think?"

You bit back a grin as you watched him shake his head, as if to snap him from his stupor of amusement, and bend over the sink to brush his teeth. You watched him brush his teeth, wash his face, change out of his jeans and into pajama pants. You tracked him as he turned the lights off and sighed, trudging over to the bed, exhaustion creeping into every one of his movements and pulling at him like gravity. You opened your arms wide, lifting the covers as you did so, and Bucky gladly crawled into them, nuzzling his head into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist and back.

You placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head, and let your arms come loosely around his neck. Bucky said nothing, content to lay in silence and listen to the beat of your heart as it lulled him to sleep.

After a few minutes of you silently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered his name. "Bucky?"

He hummed in answer against your chest.

"You know how I said pink bows make pretty things even prettier?"

You felt, rather than saw, his body pause at the question, and then his head was up and his blue eyes were staring into yours with a puzzled expression. "Yes... why? What's that have to do with anything?"

"Well..."

You paused. All of a sudden, you felt stupid. Bucky's furrowed brows and sleepy eyes urged you to continue.

"I have a pink ribbon under the pillow, actually, and I was... I wanted to..."

"What, honey?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could tie it around your arm."

Bucky paused, blinking up at you slowly, as if he hadn't heard you.

"My arm?"

You nodded.

"Why?"

You shrugged. "Because it's already beautiful, and I want to make it even more so."

He laid there quiet for a moment, and you were about to tell him to forget about it, but then he unwrapped his arms from around you, letting you drop flat onto your back, and shoved a hand beneath your head. Beneath your pillow.

He emerged with a baby pink ribbon in his fingers, the material pliable and soft in his grip, as he handed it to you.

"Go ahead," he said simply.

You gave him a skeptical look. "Really?"

He shrugged with one shoulder. "Why not? Did you think I'd say no?"

You fell quiet, then let out a sigh through your nose, turning over slightly to better reach his arm. His left arm.

You wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, the vibranium cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warm pink silk in your fingers. You looped it through, pulling it taut, then let go. You stared at it for a second, then glanced up at Bucky. Leaning in, you pressed a light kiss to the exposed metal right above the bow.

Bucky let out a shuddering breath, then laid down again, this time face to face with you. His fingers traced soft, swirling patterns against the skin of your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you closed your eyes against the feeling.

"I love you so much," he muttered quietly. "You know that, right?"

You nodded, eyes closed and a smile playing at your lips. "I know. I love you, too. Every part of you."

Bucky loosed a breath that sounded somewhat like a disbelieving breath, and you felt him lean in and press a kiss to your temple.

You fell asleep without even realizing, lulled into dreams by the steady thrum of his heartbeat and his hand stroking your hair.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan fic #the winter soldier #the winter soldier fanfiction #tfatws #tfatws fanfiction

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lunarbuck · 11 months

Text

Dumb Bunny (dark!winter soldier xf!reader)

a dark little red riding hood retelling

pairing: dark!winter soldier x f! reader (any race)

wc: 3.3k

summary: The Wolf sees you walking through the forest on your way to your grandmother's house, and he just can't help himself.

warnings: dark fic, knives, oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), pet names [bunny], degradation, primal play, predator/prey, fear, crying

a/n: this is my entry for @boxofbonesfic's fairytale writing challenge :) I hope you guys enjoy!

beta'd by the amazing @sgt-seabass <3

my masterlist

The sight of your home village warms your heart. You’ve been away for so long and missed so much. It’s good to be back. You pull the hood of your cape up to keep the sun off your face and venture into the heart of the village.

After gathering some sweets and a few loaves of bread, you bid farewell to the friendly faces you pass. As lovely as the village is, you can’t shake the feeling that something is just slightly… wrong.

The edge of the forest calls to you, the familiar sound of songbirds lulling you in. You’ve traveled this path hundreds of times; you know it with your eyes closed, even after all this time. Beautifully bright flowers bloom just off the beaten path. You gaze at them but don’t stop to pick any. Grandmother is expecting you. It’s been so long since you’ve seen her, you feel guilty you haven’t visited sooner.

As you walk, you hear footsteps crunch through the fallen leaves. You turn around, the hem of your cape fluttering with the movement. Behind you, you see a tall mountain of a man. Cloaked in black, the man stalks toward you. You’ve heard whisperings of him in town, the Wolf, they call him.

“Excuse me, miss,” he coos, voice deep and gravelly. “Where are you headed? A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone in these woods,” he whispers. “There is danger around every corner.”

You know what people say about the Wolf, the things he’s rumored to have done. That he’s a killer, that he roams the woods hunting unsuspecting victims. He’s ruthless, coldblooded and animal-like in his violence. You’re sure the rumors are true as you gaze up at his bright eyes. Fear flashes through your mind as you stare at him. His eyes are a stark, beautiful blue. His hair, dark and inky, frames his face, though most of it is covered by a black mask.

“I’m visiting my grandmother’s house,” you tell him, smiling politely. You’ve always been taught to be kind to strangers, and this stranger, in particular, the way he’s looking at you, seems to scream danger. You don’t want to risk slighting him.

“Ah,” the Wolf replies, raising his eyebrows. “And what might you have there in your basket?” You move the cloth, showing the Wolf your various sweets and loaves of bread. You imagine he is licking his lips behind his mask. Images of his lips on you, of him kissing you deeply, of him tasting you, flash through your mind, and you quickly shut your eyes. You try to shake off the heat that’s settled in your belly. You shouldn’t think that way about a stranger.

“Well, I must be going. Grandmother is expecting me.” You nod to the Wolf and cover your basket, returning to the path you’d been following. Each breath feels tight in your chest.

“What a shame,” he calls. “The birds are singing so sweetly.” Your steps slow as you allow yourself to listen to the songs that float through the air, but you continue on. You can always listen to the birds as you walk.

“Ah, but the flowers are so beautiful this time of year. Wouldn’t your grandmother enjoy a bouquet?” The Wolf asks, again halting your walking. You glance at the flowers off the path, practically preening for you in the sunlight. Grandmother has always loved the wildflowers; maybe you could spare a few moments to gather a small bouquet.

“I suppose…” You glance back at the Wolf, finding that he has continued to follow you down the path. He’s so close now that if you breathed deeply, your back would touch his chest. Your heart stutters with fear. How did he move so quickly without you hearing? How did you not feel him approach?

“You don’t want to miss out on all the beauty,” he whispers, leaning down beside your ear. With two long fingers, the Wolf tugs your hood off your head, letting the breeze flutter against your neck. He breathes deeply, and your knees wobble as you feel the heat the Wolf emanates. Something sharp trails down your neck, a stinging pain following close behind, and your eyes widen.

Not even a breath later, he’s gone. You shudder at his sudden absence and quickly dart your eyes around, looking for the Wolf, but he’s disappeared into the shadows.

You try to calm your nerves, focusing instead on the flowers glittering just a few paces away. You kneel down, gathering your skirts to prevent them from getting dirty. The flowers are soft against your fingertips as you pick the perfect ones. All the while, the Wolf’s beautiful blue eyes burn in your mind.

The Wolf

Poor, poor grandmother, I think to myself as I drag the woman out of her woodland home and into the glade. She’ll wake up eventually, but not before I do what I want. Not before I take care of her sweet, beautiful little granddaughter.

I go back into the house and take in the empty space. Photos of my little bunny are everywhere, school photos and memories of vacations. She looks so delectable in her too-small bikini, her bright smile practically blinding me.

Next, I climb the stairs, finding myself in the room I had just dragged her grandmother from. The four-poster bed takes up most of the room, fabric hanging from the top of the frame like a canopy. I grin at the thought of taking my bunny here, her tears staining the blanket. Her screams filling the air. I feel myself hardening in my pants, and I adjust my cock.

When I saw her walking through town, my mouth watered. She looked so beautiful in her red cloak, the sun warming her skin. She looked good enough to fucking eat. I followed her from a distance, but once she entered the forest, I couldn’t hold back any longer. The smell of her when I got close… I could barely hold myself back. I wanted to grab her right then and there. I wanted to fuck her into the dirt. But good things come to those who wait.

I am not a patient man, and I always get what I want. Always.

So, I lay down on the bed, the canopy concealing me well enough, and wait.

And wait, and wait.

Until I hear the door creak open.

“Grandmother?” My bunny calls. I can practically hear the smile on her lips. I grin beneath my mask, fingers itching to touch her. To mark her. I hear her footsteps as she wanders into the house. My heartbeat speeds up, ready for the hunt.

“Grandmother?” She calls again, this time even closer. I see her shadow as she comes up the stairs, and a moment later, she pushes open the bedroom door. “Oh, Grandmother, are you ill?” Through the canopy, I see her set down a vase of flowers, the ones she picked in the woods, and her basket, full of sweets.

Her fingers gently curl around the canopy’s fabric and tug it aside. Her eyes widen, and her lips part on a scream, but I’m already moving. I lunge, grab her, and push her down onto the mattress. My hand presses over her mouth, absorbing her scream.

“So fucking beautiful when you scream, bunny,” I growl, dipping my head into the crook of her neck. I breathe her in, the sweet scent of fear mixing with the floral scent of her perfume.

My bunny writhes and struggles against me, but it’s no use. I’m bigger than her, stronger than her. She’ll never escape me. She heaves her breath behind my hand, so I take it off of her, not minding if she screams. No one will hear her anyways.

“What– what are you doing?” She whimpers, tears streaking down her face.

I don’t answer. Instead, I straddle her hips, pinning her to the bed. I run my hands along her torso and up to her breasts. She fits perfectly in my hands, and I flick my eyes to hers, watching her reaction. I can see the way she struggles with herself. The way she wants to give in to me, but something holds her back.

“Oh, bunny,” I whisper, my hands coming up to curl around her neck. “What a beautiful neck you have.” I squeeze her neck lightly, giving her just a taste of what I want, and I see the way her pupils dilate. Her hips jolt up into mine, and I grin beneath my mask.

She breathes heavily, lips parting into a perfect, soft ‘o’. “And what perfect lips you have.” I move one hand up, running my thumb across her beautiful mouth. I lean down close, cupping her jaw.

I want to taste her, I want to rip this fucking mask off my face and taste my little bunny, but I can’t. Not yet. I need to be patient. I sit up, slipping a knife out of my belt and flicking it open. Her eyes widen at the glinting blade.

“Please,” she whispers, tears brimming in her eyes again. “Please don’t hurt me.” I grin.

“My poor, stupid, little bunny. The more you beg me not to, the more I want to hurt you.” She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and I stifle a moan. I don’t know how I’ve lived so long without her, how I’m going to go on living if I don’t have her by my side.

“What did you do to my grandmother?” She asks, voice wavering.

“You don’t want to know, bunny.” Her tears stream down her cheeks, and she hiccups as she sobs. She’s fucking perfect. I take in the sight of her blood-red cloak stark against the white sheets. I run the knife along the side of her face, not cutting or scratching her but letting her feel the sharp edge.

I slide off the bed, dragging the knife down the center of her sternum between her breasts and down her torso. I see the thoughts running through her pretty little head. I know she wants to run. I hope she does. I step back and watch her fingers twitch before she darts off the bed. Her red cape flutters behind her as she saints down the stairs. I give her a head start before giving chase. My little bunny is more perfect than she could ever know.

After taking a steadying breath, I take off after my bunny. She left the front door open, and I catch sight of the hem of her cape as she dives behind a tree. She ran pretty far, I’ll give her that, but she won’t escape me. Never.

My feet pound on the ground as I chase her, adrenaline coursing through my veins. She keeps running, doing her best to hide as she goes deeper into the forest, but she’s not fast enough. I catch up quickly, making sure she knows just how close I am. Whenever she hears my boots snap a twig, she yelps, tripping over her feet. As we get further away from the house, she loses steam. I grin as she stumbles, constantly looking back to see me hunting her.

Bunny’s cape gets caught on a branch, and she falls, landing hard in the dirt. She tries to crawl away, but she knows it’s no use. I stalk toward her, loving the way she shakes with each breath, and sink to the ground by her head.

I grip her by her hair, lifting her face out of the dirt, and lean down. “You lose, bunny.” She gasps as I bring out my knife, holding it near her cheek as I turn her. Even though she ran and wants to think she’s afraid of me, I know what she wants. I can fucking smell it on her. Can taste it in the air.

“Please,” she whispers, fingers digging into the leaves on the ground. Her thighs rub together beneath her skirts, and my mouth waters. I know she won’t run this time, not when she’s so close to getting what she wants.

I remove my mask, tugging it from my face with my other hand. Her lips part as her eyes search my features. I move between her legs, running a hand along one of her legs. I push up her skirt, exposing her soft skin. With my knife, I run the tip along her leg, up and up, until I reach her panties. She can’t hide how needy she is. My bunny writhes in the dirt, begging me to touch her with her big beautiful eyes. I slide my knife beneath the waistband of her panties, slicing the fabric. I cut a matching slit near her other leg, tugging the material away. She shivers as the cool air hits her cunt.

“What a pretty pussy you have, bunny,” I growl, lowering my face to the crux of her thighs. She watches me with lust-filled eyes, nodding like the dumb little bunny she is. I bite her inner thigh, leaving an imprint of my teeth on her skin.

“What beautiful eyes you have,” she tells me, a small smile on her lips.

“The better to see you with, bunny.” I run my nose along her pussy, and she bites back a moan. My tongue laves along her clit, and I hear her breath hitch.

“What–” she gasps when I press a finger inside her tight cunt. “What a perfect mouth you have.” I groan against her pussy, devouring her like my last meal.

“The better to eat you with,” I mutter into her pussy. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. She tastes so fucking sweet, practically dripping against my lips. I knew my bunny would be perfect, but she’s better than I ever could have dreamed.

“Please, please,” she whimpers, begging for her release. I curl my finger inside of her, looking for the spot that makes her squirm, and brush my teeth over her sensitive clit. My little bunny is so responsive for me, writhing around in the dirt.

“So fucking sweet, bunny, my own little treat.” Her whimpers get higher pitched, and I know she’s close. I’m practically humping the dirt, I’m so hard, but all I can think about is how good my bunny is being and how fucking perfect she’s going to feel wrapped around my cock.

I work her right up to the edge, and when she’s gripping my hair so hard she’s about to pull it out, she breaks. She comes all over my tongue and finger, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I crawl up over her, my tongue running over my lips, gathering her taste. “What a good bunny,” I whisper, taking in the sight of her blissed-out expression. She wants more, though, I can tell.

Her eyes roam over my face, her hands tracing over my features. Her lips part, but she can’t seem to find the words. “Tell me what you want, bunny.” My finger circles her sensitive clit; she jolts.

She shudders but doesn’t speak. “Come on, bunny. I know you’re afraid. I know that you don’t want to admit it. You want my cock? Is that it, bunny? You want me to fuck you here in the dirt?” Her eyebrows pinch together, and fear flashes in her eyes. She knows I’m dangerous; she knows I am unpredictable.

“You wanna be my dirty bunny?” I ask her, nipping at the soft skin of her neck. “You’re my dumb fucking bunny, you know that? You’re gonna let me fuck you into the dirt, and you’re gonna love every second of it, isn’t that right?”

“Oh my god,” she moans, hips bucking against my fingers. “Please.”

“I need to hear you say it, bunny.” I bite her shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and she gasps. “Tell me that you’re my dumb little bunny. Tell me what you want me to do.”

I see the way she hesitates, the way her mind runs through all the reasons she should fight me, but then I see the shift. I see the moment lust takes over, and she succumbs to her primal desires.

“I’m your dumb little bunny,” she whispers. I slide two fingers into her pussy, scissoring my fingers to stretch her. “And–” she sucks in a breath. “And I want– need you to fuck me.”

“Such a good bunny.” I settle back between her legs and pump my fingers, working her up again. I use my other hand to take off my belt. When my pants are down far enough, I palm my cock, moaning. She watches me with hooded, lust-drunk eyes, and I smirk. My dumb little bunny looks so pretty taking my fingers, but she’ll look even better taking my cock.

I take a long look at her pretty face before I grip her hips and turn her over. Hooking my hands underneath her, I position her with her ass high and her head in the dirt. This is how she was meant to be; she was fucking born for this.

I line my cock up with her perfect pussy and tease her clit, loving how she jolts each time. My little bunny has never looked better with her skirt shoved up on her waist and her face pressed against the earth.

“What a perfect bunny for me,” I tell her, spanking her ass. I press my cock into her, groaning as she squeezes me. She’s so fucking tight, so perfect, like she was made for me. Made for this. I slide in, loving how she stretches around my dick. Her face screws up the deeper I get, but I don’t give her time to adjust.

I set a brutal, deep pace, and electricity shoots up my spine. The sounds she’s making, the way her fingers dig into the dirt, are nearly too much for me to handle. The smell of sex and earth floods my nose, and I feel it flood my bloodstream.

She moans and whimpers with each thrust, pressing back with each thrust, egging me on. My little bunny wants me just as much as I want her. I lean down, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and haul her torso up so she’s kneeling, arching against me. I run my tongue along the spot I’d cut earlier when I’d first spoken to her, tasting the sweet tang of her blood.

My little bunny has tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face. Her eyes are screwed shut as she takes my dick.

“Such a good little bunny,” I groan into her ear. “You were fucking made for this. You were fucking born to be my dumb bunny, to take my cock.” Her cunt flutters around my dick, and my hips stutter.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants like a prayer. I drop a hand to her clit and circle it in a way that makes her throw her head back, and bite the cut on her neck. The combination of sensations throws her over the edge, and she convulses on my cock.

I press her back into the dirt and pound into her, slamming into her over and over again. I come on a moan, both of us collapsing. “Good bunny,” I whisper. “Such a good little bunny.”

She falls asleep, drained from the way I used her body, and I grin at the sight. She should know better than to fall asleep next to a predator like me. I brush the dirt from my pants, tucking my cock away, and pick her up. I carry her back to her grandmother’s house and lay her on the four-poster bed.

Next, I retrieve poor old grandmother. She’s still asleep. The drug I gave her will wear off soon. I place her on the couch in the front room. I’ll let my bunny find her when she comes to. I return to the bedroom and stare at my beautiful little bunny.

I don’t clean her up; I don’t even put her dress back. She looks perfect, dirty, and used against the bone-white sheets.

Just the way I like her.

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graceloveswolves · 7 months

Text

Attempting To Escape Yandere Bucky Barnes Would Include...

Honestly, he's probably one of the easier Yandere's to escape from.

You've escaped from him a few dozens of time.

But he's Bucky, a highly trained assassin, he finds you every.single.time.

The longest you've been away from him was a couple of hours.

He doesn't like fighting or any altercations, especially from a his love.

He is already pretty lenient on you to begin with, just trying to get you to like him so you feel better/safer with him.

And so he can stop worrying about the entire situation.

He doesn't try to intimidate you in any means, the last thing he wants is you to be terrified of him.

Although he doesn't let you push him around, he will put his foot down and let you know he is serious and that you will never be with anyone but him.

Most of the time he already knows when you plan on escaping.

The trick to escaping him would to be nice to him, act like you trust him and start warming up to him, then wait for him to let his guard down

The moment he lets you have the slightest bit of freedom, RUN.

He would be very hurt, but not surprised.

He'd obviously have no trouble finding you.

But when you put up a fight when he catches you is when he really struggles.

He'll let you hit, kick, punch, bite, spit on him all you want as he drags you away from public sight.

You can say the most vile things to him as he takes you back to your shared house, he will agree with you.

Will probably low key cry about it later when he's by himself.

No matter how much you act up, he won't punish you harshly.

Man-handling you and chaining you to a bedpost is as far as punishing goes with Bucky.

He will accept any apology, but to make sure to give you twice as much.

Still feeds you, and gives you anything you want aside from freedom.

Rinse. Repeat.

He keeps letting you try, hoping you'll eventually get tired and just accept your fate with him.

Let's you have your space and privacy, and lets you run your mouth as much as you want and vent your anger out.

It's pointless though, he never responds unless he has a valid answer.

But he notice that just makes you angrier so he keeps his comments to himself.

Sometimes he will chain you to the living room couch and make you watch movies with him.

Or when he knows he won't have any distractions, he will let you sit freely on the couch.

But obviously he sets some rules.

In order to stay unchained you have to be in the same room as him within his sight at all times or they go back on.

Pull down gates all over the house.

He'll lock the hallway gate at night and let you roam between your bedroom, his bedroom, and the bathroom.

But he secretly hopes one day you'll lay down in his with him.

If you want something sometimes you will.

Whatever it was, you'd have it the next morning.

He has no problem calling you out when he sees you snooping or trying to find ways to escape.

"You do know I'm not that stupid, right."

"You know I can see you from right here right?"

"Now why am I going to say no to that?"

"Give. It. Now."

"Now see that is exactly why you have to be chained."

"Nope. Chains going back on."

"Hey!"

Has alarms set everywhere.

Once Bucky accidentally set one off at night, disarming it instantly and went to bed, upset that he probably woke you.

He forgot to arm it again and you realized after he went to bed and got out that night.

He walked in your room with a plate of waffles the next morning and about passed out when he realized what he forgot to do.

In total denial at first.

Really thought he had lost you for good.

Had Steve and Sam help him look for you.

You had no idea what Steve looked like, so when he ran into you it didn't raise any alarms.

You just wanted to get as far away as fast as you could

so when this random guy offered you a ride out of town you were in his car in a heartbeat.

You didn't know where you were so you didn't even know he was driving you straight back to Bucky's.

Bucky's place looked a lot different at night in the pitch black.

The random dude offered you to stay at his house.

You rejected, wanting to keep moving until you were at least three states away.

He then pulled up into a driveway and roughly yanked you out of the car and into the house, nowhere as gentle as Bucky was with you.

Once he threw you in, you were actually relieved to see Bucky and have clarity that this stranger wasn't going to kill you.

"Oh thank god. Wait WHAT!"

The only time Bucky has ever yelled at you.

He felt really bad afterwards but didn't apologize.

Steve still never lets you live it down.

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 6 months

Text

Staring Down the Barrel of Your Gun

Bucky teaches you to shoot a gun when he realizes he won't always be there to protect you.

Warnings: all of my work is 18+ only, but language, references to gun usage and gun terminology, mentions of Bucky as the Winter Soldier, Bucky scaring the reader with his actions

A/N: This takes place during the events of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, specifically at Sarah's house in Louisiana. Also I don't know much about guns, so take the terminology as a work of fiction for the sake of the story

"Buck, I'm starving. Can we please take a break?" You groaned, looking over to the porch, the door to Sarah's kitchen wide open so the scent of pancakes wafted through the open air. You had been up since sunrise with your boyfriend running gun handling drills under the cover of the trees behind the Wilson's house Your hands ached from palming the steel grip, your finger on and off the trigger at Bucky's command.

"Pay attention, doll. If you're in danger, you can't afford to lose focus. Now get in your stance." Bucky nodded at the target in front of you about 100 feet away, a blacked out silhouette that was tacked to a far tree, riddled with bullet holes from your previous shots. You wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. Even though it was barely April, the Louisiana humidity made it feel at least 20 degrees warmer, even in the early morning. You let the gun drop to your side as you shook out your sore arms.

"Never point your gun down to the ground like that." His sharp tone startled you into position. Bucky was barking orders and corrections at you, and it was starting to get on your nerves. You grumbled expletives at him, that his super hearing definitely picked up but chose to ignore for the sake of your training. You lifted your arms out in front of you, one hand layered on top of the other as you focused on your target. Stance, Lift, Target, Safety, Trigger. Bucky's words from your previous trainings echoed through your mind. He had drilled the commands into you with repetition.

"Your footings all wrong." You let out a sharp breath, holding your tongue from giving Bucky a piece of your mind as you removed your finger from the trigger. You felt his metal hand on your left hip, his leg forcing your left foot forward so you had a staggered stance. "Stand straight up and the recoil will knock you on your ass." He stood back, examining you like you were under a microscope. "Alright, go."

Again, you planted your footing, going through the motions in your mind.

Stance, Lift, Target, Safety, Trigger.

You felt a warm breeze hit your face, the wind whistling in your ears. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, holding it as you slowly opened your eyes, focusing in on your target. Finally, you allowed the breath to leave your lungs. You were about to pull the trigger when Bucky stopped you again. "Wrong."

"What, now?", you gritted out between clenched teeth. His hands were on your body again, this time at your elbows, pulling your arms back a toward you. "You'll break your arms if you stand rigid", Bucky whispered, his tone gravelly, "you need to be strong, not stiff". His breath against your ear sent a shiver down your spine. Bucky's hands were no stranger to the contours of your body, and usually you welcomed his touch, but out here he was rough with you in a way you didn't like, forcing you into certain positions when he felt like you weren't following his instructions.

"Now, do it again. Right this time." For the third time, you positioned your feet, Stance, lifted your arms out in front of you, Lift, to the height of your target, Target, closed your eyes and took in a sharp breath as you removed the safety, Safety, and placed your hand on the trigger prepared to pull, Trigger.

Bucky watched you intently as you stood frozen, your chest heaving with each breath. Bucky had been training you for days, and your target was proof that you weren't shy with a gun, but for some reason you couldn't pull the trigger.

"Shoot." You couldn't hear Bucky as he tried to grab your attention, the ringing in your ears drowning out all other sound.

"Shoot the gun." He was shouting against the silence, his patience wearing thin. "Shoot the damn gun, doll."

You blinked and Bucky was standing in front of you, the barrel of the gun pressed against his forehead.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" Your question was just above a whisper. You tried to move, but couldn't, as if you had lost control of your body. "I said shoot the gun." His tone was even, as if he was telling you about his day. He had a vacant stare as he looked through you, and for a second you thought you saw a glimpse of the monster buried just beneath the surface.

"Buck, I'm not going to shoot you." Your voice was shaky, but he was unmoving.

"Shoot the gun, now." He grabbed at the gun with his vibranium limb, holding it to the middle of his forehead. You saw the steel barrel buckle under his grip. Bucky didn't see you as his girlfriend, the love of his life, but as a soldier. A soldier who was disobeying his direct order.

Tears were brimming your eyes, blurring your vision. You felt the heat creep up your neck as your hands went numb from holding your arms up for so long. You weren't sure how you got here, starting the morning training with Bucky, to suddenly being forced to make an impossible decision in front of the Winter Soldier.

"No, Bucky." You dropped your arms, feeling the weight of the gun as you put the safety back on, letting it fall to the ground. He took a step toward you to pick the gun up, and you backed away instinctively, cowering away from him. Bucky's gaze softened as he realized that you were terrified, your hands shaking. "Baby, I-".

"Food's ready, if you two love birds can take a break from your tactical training." You heard Sam's booming voice as he bounded down the stairs of the back porch, quickly reaching the two of you with his wide stride. His smile quickly dropped when he noticed your tears, Bucky's facial expression stoic. He sensed the tension between the two of you, clearing his throat. "Everything okay out here?"

You wiped a stray tear from your cheek, giving him a weak smile. "I've lost my appetite." You quickly turned away, jogging back to the house, falling just out of Bucky's reach as he called out to you. "Doll, wait." He moved to follow after you when Sam stopped him, a hand to his chest.

"What did you do?" Bucky shrugged him off, pushing past Sam.

"Why was she crying?" Sam continued to push, right on Bucky's heels. "Better crying than dead."

Sam stepped in front of Bucky, shoving him hard at the shoulders. Bucky barely stumbled back, but he got the message, stopping in his tracks. "What did you do?" Sam repeated himself, his anger evident.

Bucky collided with Sam, puffing out his chest. "She hesitated. You hesitate, you die. You think for a second too long, you die. I told her to shoot me, and she hesitated." He couldn't make eye contact with Sam, looking just past him toward the house. He needed to make sure you were okay.

"You asked her to shoot you? What are you, psychotic?" Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. Bucky had made so many strides to separate himself from the Soldat; the therapy, working to right his wrongs, and sometimes, the dark side of Bucky would seep out, and Sam wondered if it was all for naught.

"Maybe I am", Bucky edged out, finally looking Sam in the face.

"What are you doing, man?" Sam tried to appeal to Bucky's humanity, the side of him he knew was crazy about you. "You're gonna push her away if you keep doing this."

"Doing what? Trying to protect her? I'm not always going to be around, and-". Sam could see the life return to Bucky's eyes, a sadness washing over him.

"and what, Buck?" Sam continued to push.

"and I can't lose her." Bucky could usually push his feelings to the recesses of his mind, but he felt it all crumbling down around him, the weight crushing on his chest. "The gun drills, the tactical training, they're all so she can protect herself. I know I agreed to be a part of the Avengers, to give up my life to save others, but with all that we've lost, Sam, everyone we've lost, this world just continues to prove that it doesn't play fair. No matter what I do, how I try to protect her, none of it seems to matter. I can't and I will not lose her. So she cannot hesitate. She hesitates, she dies."

Sam sighed as he rested a hand on Bucky's shoulder. He knew that Bucky was right; being an Avenger meant nothing if they couldn't take care of the ones they loved. "Buck, I get it. I've got a sister and two nephews who are always on my mind. I hate the fact that we went from being on the top of the world, to realizing that no one gave a shit about us." He was standing on his convictions, trying to rescue his family's business and save his sister's house all at the same time.

"But there are enough monsters and villains in this world, she doesn't need you to be another one in her life. Fix this, Bucky. Don't lose her like this."

****

The house quieted as Bucky entered the kitchen. AJ and Cass whispered to each other as they pushed the last bites of their pancakes around their plate. Sarah watched Bucky out of the corner of her eye as he circled the room. "There's some food left over, probably cold by now" Sarah muttered as she sunk further into her seat at the dining table, taking a sip of her coffee.

Bucky chose to ignore their response to his spectacle, his focus on you. "Where's Y/N? I need to talk to her first."

Sarah nodded, rolling her eyes at Bucky. "Mhm, you sure do. She's upstairs."

Bucky took the stairs two at a time as he searched the house for you.

You had the parts of the Glock 19 Bucky had given you, organized out on the desk of the guest room you were staying in when Bucky found you down the hall. He stood at the doorway, watching as you cleaned every inch with a cloth, just as he had taught you. A small smile slipped on his face when he realized you had been paying attention.

"If you want me to shoot you, you'll have to wait", you called over your shoulder, not bothering to look at him. Bucky rubbed his jawline as he sat on the edge of the bed behind you.

"I know you don't agree with my methods of teaching-", Bucky started. "Your methods?", you scoffed, dropping the magazine on the desk, the metal clattering against the table. You turned to him, your anger brimming at the surface. "You're tryna justify that stunt you pulled as a teachable moment?" You felt your throat go dry at the memory of holding a gun to your boyfriend's head, momentarily holding his life in your hands.

"I need you to know how to protect yourself. There are people out there, terrible people, who would do anything to get to me, including hurting you." You turned back to the desk, gently placing your hands on your thighs. You closed your eyes again, taking a deep breath. "Doll, are you listening to me?" Bucky tried to grab your attention.

Choosing not to respond, you instead stood and grabbed the grip of your gun, briefly examining the piece before you made quick work of connecting each component to reassemble the gun, the metal clicking as each part connected. Bucky watched in awe as you moved with the precision that he had only seen from soldiers during his time in the military. You slipped the full magazine into the gun, slamming it in place before you pointed the assembled gun at the vintage dresser that Sarah had set up in the corner of the room, in perfect stance, your arms stretched out just enough to brace for the recoil.

"Is that trained enough for you, Sargent Barnes?" You smirked, your words dripping with sarcasm without an ounce of humor in your voice.

"Alright." Bucky snatched at the barrel, taking the gun from you, jogging you out of your trance. "You've made your point." He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans.

You dropped down onto the bed, looking up at Bucky, tears welling in your eyes again. He sat down next you, his arm brushing against yours. You felt him gently squeeze at your thigh, once again feeling the touch that you knew belonged to your Bucky, the Winter Soldier long gone.

"I knew what I was getting into, Buck. I knew who you were, what you had done, and all of the danger that came with being with you." You placed your hand atop his, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. "and if that danger ever comes, you've prepared me to the best of your ability." Bucky cradled the side of your head in his hand, placing a kiss on your temple. You both sat in silence for a moment before you continued.

"But I could-, I would never be able to hold a gun to your head, let alone pull the trigger. If you think I ever could, you don't know me at all." You let out a shaky breath. "Buck, I was terrified. That wasn't you out there." Bucky's back straightened at your words. He retreated into himself, turning his gaze to the floor, trying to pull his hands into his lap, but you wouldn't let him. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "Tell me the truth. Is the Winter Soldier gone for good?"

He wanted desperately to tell you yes, that the only part of him that remained was James Buchanan Barnes, the boy from Brooklyn, friend to Steve Rogers, the man you loved, someone who would never dare to hurt you, but that would be a lie.

"Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, and he's never coming back."

You pulled Bucky in for a kiss by his chin, your lips barely grazing his before he had you in his grasp, his returning kiss passionate, as if he was apologizing in all the ways his words would fall short.

The Winter Soldier was still a part of him for now, but he'd do anything to protect you, even from himself.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #the winter soldier #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction

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urdepressedslut · 10 months

Text

Tears of an Angel

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You’ve been trapped at HYDRA for god knows how long, until the cell next to yours gets someone new. Who is this man, and why is he comforting you? He doesn’t even know you.

♡ Warnings: hydra, bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, hints to sexual assault/abuse, torture, literally this is so sad i’m sorry

main masterlist ✧ part two

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+

You didn’t know why it had hurt that much. He wasn’t anyone special to you to begin with. He was merely a stranger fighting for his life— just like you.

It was a silly gesture that you had let your withered mind believe. You weren’t sure if you held such distaste for him hurting you— or for yourself for allowing it to hurt that badly.

You watched the man shout with anger, dripping into fear— lastly he cried of exhaustion. You watched him shuffle throughout his little room, begging with no one in particular— to set him free. The decent sized hole in the wall separating you two— gave you a front row seat to the man’s episode. The outbursts shouldn’t of interested you, but the glimmer of silver from his arm had caught your attention. This man being different than all the others you’d seen.

He did this frequently, every episode shorter than the last. His voice would grow more hoarse, his shuffling would quiet down, his energy vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Adrenaline would do nothing for him now.

It had been almost a full month of examining the man from your spot in your own cell. Never did you find energy in yourself to say something— comfort him. What was the point, right?

Although the more time that passed, the harder it was to not say something. The man’s faith was thinning right before your eyes. You felt awful for this man’s suffering, all which had been seen by you. You thought you could sit aside, watch him give up— then he’d leave. It’s what you did with all the others, all of them hurting as bad as the last. But this man was a fighter, he was determined— fighting towards something. Maybe someone.

It was only making things worse, the ending would hurt greater than all the others. He was different, he was strong. Knowing that, you knew they would never let him leave. He was their property now.

That’s just how things worked here. Your strength was taken advantage of.

Today he was staring mindlessly at the wall, his eyes dull and lifeless. You didn’t know why you wanted to say something suddenly, but the urge to ask if he was okay— burned at the front of your mind. It was a dumb question— of course he wasn’t.

His hair was longer, having grown out in his time trapped here.

You were about to say something, beginning to clear your throat when your cell door was open suddenly. You were shocked, the gist unexpected— you were starting to think you were forgotten in here. No one having checked your room for quite some time.

But as the guards hoisted you up— easily since you had no fight left in you. They guided you out of the room, down the hall to an eerily familiar room. One that had your stomach knotting up, dreading the pain you were about to receive.

You were so caught up in the moment, you had missed the man’s head glance over to you— through the hole in the wall.

The door swung open, the guards carelessly tossing you inside— causing you to land hard on your hands and knees.

You let out a cry— half pain, half frustration. You were unsure how you we able to endure such amounts of pain. You begged for the darkness to consume you. Letting you limbs fill with ice, your whole body sinking into a cold deep oblivion. An escape.

But it was over— for now.

You pathetically crawled to your spot against the wall, the movement causing pain to shoot up through your body.

You stared blankly at the wall, wishing you could forget the horrid events that had just happened.

Today was bad. Bad not coming close to describing the true agony your endured, the torture that you went through the felt like forever.

Your lower region throbbed painfully, and you wished that you could be numb. Wishing so desperately to not feel anything.

You felt violated— the urge to rip off your own skin. The thought of your own flesh had you revolted, wanting to throw up. You didn’t want to feel your own skin, you couldn’t look at it— you wanted it to all stop. You stayed eerily still, fearing that your deep breaths— the expanding of your chest would cause you pain.

“Hey.” A soft horse voice called.

You sluggishly moved your head towards the voice, your eyes meeting with concerned blue ones.

You stayed silent— furrowing your brows like you wanted to say something, but found your lips sealed. Truthfully, you were afraid to speak. You feared the guards would hear and punish you some more— you just couldn’t deal with even the thought.

“Are you okay?” He tried again.

You scoffed, wanting to bitterly laugh at his question— but ended up crying instead. Your body shook painfully, your hands clutching your lower abdomen. You quietly sobbed, your tears soaking your thighs as you hunched pitifully.

Your mind was chaos, you felt overwhelmed. Your body was alert, ready for the guards to enter at any moment— while your mind was exhausted.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay— I’m here.” He whispered through the gap.

You slowed your cries, the comfort his words brought you felt foreign. He didn’t even know you, you didn’t even know him— yet he was trying to comfort you. Maybe it was because you were in such a vile place, that had you grabbing a hold of the sliver of comfort.

You hugged yourself, glancing back up to his eyes now— surprised to find them filled with worry. His gaze scanning over your form, as if he was searching for the reason of you distress.

“I’m Bucky.” He introduced, now sitting against the wall, keeping his eyes trained on you.

You could finally put a name to the face.

You swallowed, trying to remind yourself that a name didn’t mean anything. You could know someone’s name and not be close with them, the walls could still stay up. Right?

“(Y/n).” You told him, your voice so hoarse— a sound barely came out. Your screams from the torture shredding your vocal cords.

Bucky smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s a pretty name.” He thought out loud, and if you had any room for butterflies— you would’ve been blushing from nerves. All your body could manage was fear— pain.

Bucky watched as your body shook with a particular painful looking wave. His eyes widening in concern when your hands clutched your lower abdomen. Your face scrunched up painfully, squeezing your eyes shut— wishing for this sensation to pass.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay— I know it hurts now but just keep breathing okay? You can—” He paused, slipping his right hand through the gap in the wall. “You can hold my hand if you wa— need to.”

You slowly unscrunched your face, taking deep breaths like he had said— the fresh cool air soothing your lungs. Although it caused slight movement, the deep breaths were calming you.

You stared at his hand— hesitant. A part of you knew you shouldn’t— the fact was you shouldn’t even be talking to him. But the other part of you was desperate for human touch. It had been years since you last felt someone— someone’s gentle touch.

Your hunger won, that’s how you found yourself slowly scooting from your spot on the wall, towards the gap— towards his hand. The movement causes the throbbing to pick back up, a whimper of pain escape. You were close enough and grabbed onto his hand tight, squeezing it in hopes he could make the pain go away.

“I’ve got you— just keep breathing. I’m right here.” He cooed, his voice smooth and calming.

You still didn’t know why he was being so kind, but you decided not to question it any longer. You were grateful, to find comfort in such a place.

You quietly sobbed, holding onto his hand— his thumb occasionally rubbing back and fourth on the back of your hand.

“We’re gonna get out of here, I just know we will.” He whispered, and you had a feeling he was trying to convince himself.

You noticed he was peppier today, having more fight in his voice. You weren’t sure if he was only faking it for you, either way— you appreciated the motivation. He was relaxing to be around, specifically today. You wouldn’t question the leave you could find in a place like this. Hell.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You whimpered, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. Your lower abdomen starting to burn uncomfortably.

He gave your hand a tight squeeze, rubbing his thumb up and down once more.

“No need. We’ve got each other now— we will be okay.”

Oh how desperately you wanted to believe his words. Well— you did.

Months had passed, you both clung onto each other everyday— that was until he was taken one day and he never returned. You knew it was completely out of his control— but you felt hurt. You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling betrayed.

You didn’t know why it had hurt that much. He wasn’t anyone special to you to begin with. He was merely a stranger fighting for his life— just like you.

He had held your hand, talked you through some bad moments— he showed you that kindness still existed.

It was a silly gesture that you had let your withered mind believe. You weren’t sure if you held such distaste for him hurting you— or for yourself for allowing it to hurt that badly.

So for now, you’d sit against the grimy wall— counting down the days until someone knew took up the other cell. Then the cycle would repeat and you’d wish for the darkness to consume you.

If you want to be added

TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @goldylions

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #sebastian stan #reader insert #buckybarnes #heavy angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #protective bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #beefy bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier fanfiction

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avengersfantasies · 9 months

Text

Strong (Bucky x Reader)

Summary: You aren't feeling good one day, and Bucky finds out what you've been keeping from him.

What to expect: mental health issues

Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist here!

Taglist: @winterslove1917 @natashasilverfox @gojoismysensei @mavrellover91

You lay in bed – having told your boyfriend that you were feeling sick and didn’t feel up to doing anything. Bucky knew you better than that though…you’d been together long enough to read each other like open books.

“Alright, my love,” he spoke softly – rubbing your back as you pulled the blankets up to your nose.

You’d never know it, but he was growing suspicious as to the reason behind your illness. He had seen this before, so he went to look for a possible cause. You fell back asleep in the large, plush bed the two of you shared – the nausea taking over your body. You felt like you were going to throw up…like your entire being was being drowned. Your eyes felt like they wanted to close and stay closed, but you could still hear Bucky looking around the apartment. He looked everywhere for something to make you feel better after not having any luck in finding the cause. He headed for the medicine cabinet in your shared bathroom – hoping there would be something in there to help with the nausea and fatigue. When he opened it up, however, his eyes landed on the familiar orange bottles. Your medicine for your mental health sat there, and to his dismay, the bottles were nearly full. He looked at each of the bottles – calculating how long ago they were filled and how many should be in there if you had been taking them correctly.

Twenty days ago, he told himself as he took out the pills from each bottle – counting them. Theoretically, if you had been taking them correctly, you should have a total of 10 left from your 30 day supply. When he counted them, though, he sighed when he realized you had 28 left in each bottle. Thinking about what to say, Bucky slowly left the bathroom and headed back into the bedroom.

“Hey, babe?” he called out – causing you to open your eyes. You didn’t look at him – looking straight ahead at the mirror that hung above the dresser. Your lack of communication didn’t stop him though. He sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed your back. “Can we talk about this?” he asked softly – holding out the nearly-full medicine bottles for you to see. You still didn’t respond. “Please?”

“What about them?” you finally spoke up – your voice weak and shaky.

“Baby…why haven’t you been taking them?” he asked with a voice filled with concerned. You shrugged in response. “You know you need to take them, right?”

“I shouldn’t have to,” you weakly argued. “Why should I have to take medication every day?”

“Because, baby…you need them so that you feel better.”

“But why?” you scoffed. “Why do I need medication to feel better?”

He reached for your hand and held it gently. “I know it’s not fair,” his voice was soft and caring. “But sometimes, some people need a little help…it’s not always something that can be solved by talking to someone…sometimes, it’s chemical.” The fact that you had been on medication for years was always something you viewed as wrong. When you were first put on it, your parents tried to talk you out of it…saying that you were overreacting and didn’t need medicine to help you…all you needed to do was get your shit together and work hard. Hearing that for years from them somehow affected the way you viewed yourself, and you couldn’t help but think that everyone else thought the same thing. “Baby,” Bucky continued, “taking medication doesn’t mean you're bad or subhuman.”

“You don’t have to take it for your PTSD,” you argued.

He stroked your cheek gently. “We have different brain chemical makeups…talking out my thoughts helps me more than medication…and medication seems to help you more than talking.”

“You don’t think it makes me weak?” your eyes were filling with tears as you looked up at the handsome soldier.

“I think the fight you fight every single day makes you one of the strongest people in the world.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #the winter soldier fanfiction #the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier imagine #bucky barnes fluff

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babyjakes · 8 months

Text

earn it. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | august '23 general requests blurb night

summary | if you want your daddy's cock, you're gonna have to earn it.

pairing | daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader

warnings | ddlg. fairly soft!daddy!bucky but he does force an orgasm out of reader. thigh riding. begging/pleading. fingering/clit play. (implied) multiple orgasms. overstimulation. praise. petnames. squirting. implied p in v.

word count | 308

requested by @vase-of-lilies | I'm excited about your event! If I could request a Bucky fic where the reader is super needy and just wants to ride his cock, but Bucky is a menace so he makes her ride his thigh first, then he takes super good care of her after being such a good girl for him, so she earns lots of overstimulation because she listened to him the first time! I hope that it is not too much or too little! I just love needy!reader and menace to society!Bucky lol!

an | okay soooo i haven't written for bucky in ages but i really really really wanted to write this request for you friend, thank you so much for sending it in 🥺🤍 i looove thigh riding and overstim so this was just the perfect little idea, thank you for sending it in and i hope you enjoy friend!!! <333

"Please Daddy, pretty please!"

"I'll be good for you, Daddy— I'll be sooo good if you let me!"

"Pleeease Daddy, need your cock! Need it in me, please, please, please!"

Your desperate words fall on deaf ears as your daddy bounces you on his bare thigh, his big hands supporting you by the waist as you sniffle and whine into his shoulder. "Shhh, pumpkin. C'mon, give me one more. Cum one more time for Daddy, and then you can have it, sweet girl."

"N-no Daddy, please," you beg again, your little hips jerking as he grinds you down more forcefully against his flexed thigh, the thick bands of his muscles hitting right up against your weakest spots.

"But you're doing so good, baby. So good for me, yeah? Just wanna see you cum one more time. You know how much I love seeing you fall apart like this. Doesn't it feel good, baby doll? Don't you like riding Daddy's thigh?"

"Y-ye-es Daddy, but—"

"Shhh," he shushes you again, reaching a hand down to move things along by rubbing your poor, puffy clit. Your hands dig into his shoulder blades as you squeeze your eyes shut, your head pounding as you hear Bucky whisper, "C'mon, baby. Let go for me. That's it..."

He coos loving praises as you squirt helplessly against his leg. He keeps rocking you on top of him as you ride the waves of your orgasm, letting out the sweetest little hums and moans against the familiar safety of his t-shirt.

"That's my girl," he murmurs proudly, kissing the side of your head as you float back down from your high. "Did so good for Daddy, 'm so proud of you, angel. Now let's get you all spread out on your back and ready for me, hmm? Think you've finally earned a good fucking from Daddy."

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buckybarnesb-tch · 1 year

Text

Random Thought: Bucky Barnes

The Winter Soldier

It wasn’t something that happened very much anymore.

The trigger words had been removed from Bucky like a parasite but he can never forget what happened and he will never forget who he was as The Winter Soldier.

You had spoken about how it still scares him. How he describes still feeling him in his head, as if he’s another person just waiting to take over, and he has done it before. Usually it’s something that only happens in a fight, a really bad one. Occasionally on a mission his mind will slip back into that place it was in when he was the soldier, he describes it almost like someone else taking the reigns when something is too bad. Steve and Natasha had both seen it while on missions with Bucky and they didn’t see it as a problem necessarily as he was mission oriented and focused but it made Bucky scared, terrified one day it would happen when he was around you. You assured him that it wouldn’t happen as long as you didn’t go getting yourself into a fire fight.

Well, one day it did.

You had been out on a date night. It wasn’t something you did all the time as both you and Bucky were much more home bodies but he liked to take you out and treat you once in a while. You had dinner and later went to a bar on the walk home for a few drinks, while Bucky was in the bathroom a few guys had started hitting on you and unfortunately wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. You had tried to brush them off 6 times before you made eye contact with Bucky across the bar, quickly placing your glass down and moving towards him, ready to leave when the largest of the three decided that you were being rude by leaving and that you weren’t going anywhere, grabbing ahold of your arm quite hard.

Bucky had become accustomed to how gentle he had to be with you, especially as a super soldier as you were so sensitive. You may be able to take a pounding but you bruise so easily and he is only willing to see certain kinds of marks on your body. You saw something change in Bucky’s eyes even from 10 feet away as soon as this man touched you and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to stop him, so you didn’t try.

Not even 30 seconds later all 3 guys were laid out on the ground, god knows how many broken bones, all definitely concussed and all anyone in the bar did was cheer for your blue eyed boyfriend, all of the women in here clearly grateful to him for putting them in their place.

Speaking of blue eyes, they were trained on you instantly as soon as the last idiot hit the floor, nearly stormy grey at this point and he stomped towards you immediately. You weren’t scared, you would never be scared of Bucky but you decided to just go along with whatever it was he needed next, seeing that he wasn’t himself at the moment. You knew Bucky better than anyone and that look on his face wasn’t one you recognized.

You were in his arms instantly and he was pulling you from the bar, out the door and down the street. You had a hard time keeping up with his steps, though he didn’t hold you hard or pull you roughly, instead when you first nearly stumbled he paused, turning to you. You started to apologize but he cut you off promptly, swinging you up into his arms, one hand under your butt and keeping your dress from exposing you when your legs wrapped around his waist and the other hand on your back, pressed right between your shoulder blades to hold you to him tightly. ‘Не извиняйся, Маленький Кролик. Отдохни, ты в безопасности.’ (No sorries Little Bunny. Rest your body, you are safe.) He was able to move faster now and he did just that, practically running back to your shared apartment in the tower. You were greeted by Happy when you walked in but he was ignored, though you shouted a quick ‘Goodnight’ just to be polite.

He carried you up the stairs instead of using the elevator and somehow got there faster than the elevator would have, once again ignoring someone on the stairs, though this time it was Pepper and you knew there would be questions tomorrow, hopefully you could pass it off as your soldier being a bit too horny and that’s why he was sprinting with you in his arms up the stairs at 83 Mph. He didn’t put you down until the door was locked and you were safely rested on your bed where he looked around as he had done upon entering the apartment, like he was checking for intruders and you realized he probably was.

This isn’t your Bucky right now, his mind is somewhere else, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not Your Bucky. For someone that everyone is so scared of, someone that Bucky himself is so scared of, he’s kind of a sweetheart to you. ‘Маленький Кролик теперь в безопасности. Не бойся, никто больше не тронет моего маленького зайчика.’ (Little Bunny is safe now. Don’t be afraid, no one will touch my Little Bunny again.) You had learned basic Russian after becoming friends with Natasha to make fun of people that you didn’t like and you thank god for it cause it seems to be coming in handy a bit. “Little Bunny” isn’t something Bucky had ever called you, not once in your lives and upon realizing what he was calling you, you realized how much this man cares for you in any frame of mind he is in.

‘I’m safe. Everything is okay now. Come on, bed time.’ You spoke to him, moving to stand up and step around him to your dresser. You grabbed ahold of a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, slipping the dress up and over your head and dropping it into the hamper, followed by your bra. Just as you were about to pull the tank top on you felt his hands on my your waist. When you didn’t move him he brushed one hand across your stomach and up to your chest, hesitating before cupping your breasts with both hands, his body pressed against your back making you moan embarrassingly loud.

‘Симпатичный кролик. Со мной ты в безопасности. Больше никакой боли, я обещаю.’ (Pretty Bunny. Safe with me. No more pain, I promise.) He took ahold of your wrist and brushed his thumb over the now bruises that were appearing on your skin from that asshole grabbing you.

‘I’m okay. You saved me, thank you baby.’ You turned around, taking ahold of his face in your hands and brushing your fingers through his hair, holding on at the base of his neck and pulling him to kiss you. He hesitated only a second before he was kissing you back, hands now holding your waist before he picked you up, carrying you to the bed and clutching your body to his hard chest. His chest was always hard, muscley but comfortable and still soft, it made him the best snuggle buddy. Right now however, in the arms of this ‘assassin’ as he clutched you to his body almost too tightly, you had never felt safer, more protected, or more cherished in your entire existence.

(I used a translator, I hope the Russian is correct but I wrote down what each thing means)

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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goodgirlofglory · 1 year

Text

Occupied / One-shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2,5k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral (m recieving), blowjob, balls-worship, handjob, a smidge of painplay (concerning the aforementioned balls), some d/s undertones (with Bucky being a sweet subby boy and loving being manhandled), exhibitionist kink, semi-public sex (they're in the loo with a lot of people outside), cumshot in mouth, swallowing cum, a little cum in hair (lol)

Summary: You have dragged Bucky into the handicapable toilet on the main floor of the administrations floor of S.H.I.E.L.D and intend to swallow his cock. Who is he to say no?

Note: Hiyaaa, this is just a short, cheeky little something for those who have a sweet tooth for subby simpy Bucky (ie ME)💞 This excists in the same universe as Ambrosial, my first Bucky fic, and happens sometime after Bucky and reader start getting real comfortable with each other🥰 Hope you enjoy🦋

(Not betaread so all mistakes are mine and i kinda can't be arsed to care🤷‍♀️😘)

Replies, reblogs, likes and asks are amazing💫💕

«Hnngh!»

The choked groan escaped Bucky’s gritted teeth despite his uttermost efforts to keep it in. A low hum came in answer from below, either in agreement or appreciation - or a mix of both. Bucky could hear the continuous buzz of people milling about outside the handicapped toilet. He didn’t really need his enhanced hearing to hear how busy it was, but his heightened senses almost made it seem like the crowd was inside the room with the two of you. It was on the main floor of the administration's wing for God’s sake - and you were on your knees at Bucky’s feet, softly nuzzling the hard bulge that had formed in his pants during the last thirty seconds since you pulled him into the single lavatory room and flipped the lock to “occupied”.

Oh who was he kidding, he’d been sporting a semi since you gave him that low-lidded glance in the strategy meeting an hour back. He would recognise that look anywhere, anytime and it always went right to his cock like an adrenaline shock. Now all his blood was rushing south so fast he almost felt faint. Faint with anticipation at what you apparently intended to do mere meters away from the whole administration of S.H.I.E.L.D – and faint with nerves at you doing this mere meters away from the whole administrations office of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Fuuuck,” Bucky grated out, biting his fist to stop himself from groaning louder as your nimble fingers undid his pants and let his cock bounce free of its restraints. Bucky’s breath was out of fucking control, huffing unevenly as his muscles ached to grab at you, to bring you closer, to bend you over the sink or throw you over his shoulder and make the escape to one of your rooms. He wasn’t really picky about the places he took you, but this? This was kind of insane, even for him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it, he fucking lived for your hands on his body, and your mouth on his cock was the highlight of any week whenever you graciously gifted it to him. But…but shit, this was really fucking close to a lot of fucking people, and Bucky was always way too fucking loud for this kind of sneaking around. Sweat beaded his brow as he strained to keep still and keep quiet, burning arousal mixing with anxiety to a heady concoction inside him.

You didn’t seem to share his concerns at all, slowly taking his shaft in your hand, pumping his foreskin up and down his cock languidly, staring hungrily at his leaky head like it was your favorite thing in the world. Your cheeks were flushed pink, your eyes wide and blown out with lust and oh god, you looked so fucking good on your knees like that, the sight made Bucky’s own knees wobble. He reached out with his hand to clutch the shelf of extra towels and toilet paper next to him, the wood groaning in protest at his grip.

“Y-you sure about this?” he asked for probably the half-dozenth time, voice low and gravelly even as he tried to whisper.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, shining with mischief, and you nodded, a sickly sweet “mhm” sounding in your throat. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck, Bucky could deny you nothing when you did that. When you looked so cute and excited. When you so sweetly – and literally – took him by the cock and simply let him know you would have your way with him now. There was no way he would stop you on his own, he was completely powerless against you and his cock throbbed in your hand at the knowledge.

You leaned forward and Bucky stared helplessly as you stretched your pink tongue out and licked over where a thick drop of precum beaded at the tip of his cock, eyes looking up at him. His breath rushed out of him at the sensation, your wet and soft mouth closing around the head of his cock. Shivers wracked up his spine and he clutched the shelf tighter to ground himself as the pleasure coursed over him like a tidal wave, goosebumps rising on the back of his neck at the way you teased his sensitive tip with your tongue - the way that made his jaw go all slack and his mind quiet down to a pleasant buzz, empty of all but you, you, you.

It hadn’t taken Bucky long to realize you had a little exhibitionism kink in you. Nothing seemed to turn you on more than the threat of being caught. Or maybe it was the way Bucky got flustered and nervous at the risk of being caught that excited you. Maybe you were a sadist. If so, Bucky might be a masochist, for his cock was never harder than when he was fraught with the anxious anticipation of the humiliation at being caught with his cock out. The one thing that helped was that he couldn’t stave off his orgasm for very long whenever you went to your knees for him. It was like his cock went into overdrive and pounced over the edge like a freight train. He could feel it now, his balls tingling already, drawing closer to his body just from the sheer image of you taking his cock further into your mouth, lovingly and thoroughly laving it in spit and dragging your swollen red lips over it again and again, letting the head move to the back of your mouth and tickle your throat.

You swirled your tongue around his head on the way back, kissing his slit with an open mouth and a lot of tongue and Bucky’s head thumped back into the tiles of the wall.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he growled low as his hips bucked in your hand, cock seeking your mouth.

“You have to be quiet, baby,” you murmured from below, seemingly completely calm and collected, a teasing lilt in your voice.

You might’ve fooled Bucky into thinking you were unaffected if it wasn’t for the mouth-watering scent of your arousal permeating the air, drifting up to clog Bucky’s nose, adding to the sizzling goosebumps spreading all over his skin. The scent that drove him mad. His very own private aphrodisiac. The air was thick with it now, making his cock throb again as it anticipated the tight, wet heat of your cunt, Bucky’s very favorite place to bury it.

Bucky raked his hand through his hair, laughing helplessly and a bit deliriously, a raspy, thin wheeze.

“Fucking e-easy for you to say, doll. You’re not about to ex-explode,” Bucky choked out in a whisper, tugging on his own hair to try and gain some semblance of control over his body. Explode or implode, he couldn’t really be sure. Having to be quiet like this had him so wound up he feared he’d have a heart attack if his enhanced body would allow it.

“I’m not?” you quietly murmured after a moment, words muffled by the way your mouth moved down his shaft in sloppy kisses while you massaged his cockhead in your fist.

Bucky bit back a moan, the image of you coming from sucking him off filling his mind, picturing your pussy drooling and clenching around nothing, soiling your panties while he soiled your face. Bucky inhaled a broken gasp, grabbing the sink to his left with his metal arm, holding on for dear life as your mouth reached his ballsack, greedily sucking a testicle into your wet, hot mouth and –

“Holy fuck, just like that, please,” Bucky begged shamelessly, eyes clenching shut as his whole frame shuddered. The way you massaged his ball with your tongue had him nearly crumbling to the floor in pleasure.

You hummed in appreciation and/or agreement again, and the light vibrations it sent through his balls had his cock spitting precum into your hand.

“Ah shit, yes,” he groaned, voice coming out raspy and growling and you popped off his ball to grab his sack with your free hand just a bit too tightly. Pain shot up Bucky's body.

“Quiet,” you admonished.

Bucky felt himself go all loopy with the mix of pain and pleasure, mouth hanging open, panting, and his sight slightly hazy, the most mind-blowing sensations wracking around his body. Oh yeah, he might just be a masochist. You were definitely a sadist, and Bucky felt simultaneously exhilarated and completely safe and calm as you manhandled him. He fucking loved it when you took control, when you toyed and teased and used him exactly as you pleased. He never felt more seen or content or well-loved as when you were like this. It was almost overwhelming and at the same time so intoxicating, he couldn’t help but need more.

You returned your lips to his balls, taking the other testicle into your mouth, suckling on it while your hand worked the spit and precum around the purple head of his cock faster and faster.

He was already so close, he bit his lips to keep from groaning and the sink and shelf held tightly in his hands groaned instead from the way his grip tightened as he barreled down towards release.

Your thumb brushed against his frenulum and white-hot pleasure shot up his spine. Fuck, he was going to cum, he was –

Your thumb stroked up and teased the hole on the tip of his dick and the wooden shelf shattered in his grip as he pommeled over the edge. He had no time to warn you, choking on air as he was before cum shot out of his cock and splayed in a stripe over the top of your head. You reacted quickly, popping your mouth off his ball and immediately putting it over the head of his cock, catching the next spurt of cum inside your mouth. The tip of your tongue stroked his frenulum and spitting hole, coaxing the cum to shoot out in pulse after pulse. Bucky’s body shuddered violently, eyes clenching shut and mouth opening to choke on air. Fuck, you always made him cum so fucking hard it was almost painful.

Your hand stroked his shaft, wringing the orgasm out of him. The sink gave a screeching groan as his metal hand bent the steel, and Bucky’s body trembled like a leaf as his orgasm diminished and then mellowed out to a pleasant, numbing buzzing deep in his very bones.

You gently released his cock, still hard and twitching faintly, giving the tip a loving kiss before getting to your feet elegantly. Bucky still panted like a dog when you pulled him by his shirt down to kiss him on his mouth. He eagerly parted his lips to your prodding tongue, and though he found you’d swallowed every bit of cum you’d sucked from him, he could still taste the faint, salty essence of himself on your tongue. It made him hot all over again, his cheeks flushed with heat at the intimate knowledge of what you’d so generously done for him, his chest warming with a satisfied, preening sort of possessiveness. God, you were such a fucking gift and Bucky still questioned what good he had done in his life to deserve you…

Breaking the kiss, you gave Bucky a slow, pleased smile, hand absently reaching down to hold his still hard cock in a gentle, distinctly casual grip. It had Bucky flushing for entirely new reasons. He was almost embarrassed to admit how much he liked you holding him so proprietarily, with such confident ownership, like he was nothing but an extension of your own natural form.

Your eyes caught on something off to the left and then widened comically. Bucky followed your gaze and saw the unnatural, twisted shape of the sink basin he’d clutched while coming. He carefully opened and extracted his vibranium hand from the tangle of molded metal, an almost comical hand print left behind.

“I’m fairly certain this is incriminating evidence,” you teased, not bothering to keep the wicked glee out of your voice.

Bucky shot you a glare, and he knew his cheeks must be blazing red. People might not catch on to the specifics of the situation the sink was ruined in, but they would definitely know it was him (there weren’t many people on the base capable of bending steel with their hands and no one would suspect America’s golden punk Steve before Bucky). Furthermore he would look like a half-animal with little to no self-control. Which, admittedly, he kinda was around you. But still!

You giggled at Bucky’s glare and planted a kiss to his chest before quickly washing your hands in the sink that now looked more like one of those modern art sculptures you insisted on showing Bucky whenever you went into the city. Picking up your phone, you tapped it a couple of times before putting it back in your pocket.

“Nat’s on the case,” you said with an easy-going smile as you looked back up on Bucky. You turned to leave, spotting yourself in the mirror above the sink and quickly wiping some of Bucky’s cum out of your hair and away from the corner of your mouth while Bucky stared, transfixed by it, not really surprised when his cock gave a twitch of interest at the sight. Just when you turned to slip out, Bucky caught you around the wrist and pulled you back against him, nuzzling your neck from behind while pushing his half-hard cock against your tights-clad ass.

“What about you?” he murmured as he kissed the spot just below your jaw he knew was extra sensitive. He could still smell how wet you were, and brought his hand forward and down to cup you between your legs. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as he felt the heated, damp clothing covering your cunt. Your breath hitched and you grinded down into his hand for a moment before turning your head to whisper against his mouth.

“Meet me at mine? I’m free the rest of the day,” you said, breath tickling Bucky’s cheek and he shivered, cock starting to harden for real again at the proposition. He bit down on your shoulder to keep from growling outright. You were a too fucking perfect.

He nodded against your skin, still collecting himself from the onslaught of lust your invitation brought forward - he was gonna fucking ruin you for this, that was a promise. You nuzzled his cheek and giggled softly, before promptly slipping out of his arms and then the toilet, leaving him to make his own exit of profound embarrassment. Bucky stayed put until Nat came and rescued him God knew how many minutes later, giving him a knowing look that made his face heat like a fucking furnace. He had to keep himself from outright sprinting to your room, all the while plotting all the different ways he was going to make you cum before even slipping his cock inside you. It was gonna be a long night.

Bucky did ruin you, getting back at you quite thoroughly. Even so, Bucky had to duck his flushing face for days after as he passed the handicap toilet with it’s promptly made “out of use”- sign, both out of humiliation of what you’d so obviously done in there, and from the memory of how fucking good it’d felt.

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x f!reader #Bucky Barnes x y/n #The Winter Soldier fanfiction #The Winter Soldier fanfic #The Winter Soldier x reader #The Winter Soldier x you #The Winter Soldier x y/n #The Winter Soldier x f!reader #Ambrosial #Occupied #Bucky Barnes smut #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes smut

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eddiemuonson · 8 months

Text

Break Free - Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: You were an infiltrated nurse working for HYDRA and takes care of Bucky Barnes, who's still triggered and being used as The Winter Soldier.

Warnings: blood and some kind of violence

Word count: 1.7k

You watched as they brought the Winter Soldier into the briefing room after a long battle of something you were yet to find out about. As a HYDRA’S nurse, you learned to not give fully attention to what actually happened inside the department, but it's not like you actually would. You just wouldn’t be able to talk about that with anyone else as much as you wanted to. He sat on a chair, all sweaty and still panting. He was shirtless, and you could see his chest going up and down with the rhythm of his heart beating.

He was bruised, his left brow was split open, and he had many cuts from what appeared to be from a knife all over his arms and his chest. Alexander Pierce asked for the mission report, but Barnes could barely stand, he had trouble breathing after all. Standing in a corner, you could see his blue eyes were darker and carried something else rather than rage, maybe it was remorse or pain, but you couldn’t tell.

Pierce snapped his face with a sharp slap, and the Winter Soldier kept his head low. “Mission report, Barnes”, he said, his voice was louder, but the man stood still and didn’t say a word.

“The target ran away”, James responded under his breath. He wasn’t panting anymore after a few long minutes, but he had blood running down his face and his neck, along with the fresh cuts from the knife. Alexander let out a scoff and gripped his face aggressively, making him look at his eyes. His hand has a tight grip on his chin, which made Barnes groan over the angriness.

“If you don't do your part, I can't do mine, and HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves. Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time”, the man said.

As soon as he dropped James’ head, the Winter Soldier kept his gaze at an empty space. You knew what he used to do every time he went back from a mission, but in the back of your mind you had some sort of compassion for him. You knew the man in front of you was being controlled by the organization you most feared, but being there to gather as much information as you could might end up helping Barnes somehow.

You just had no idea how you could swallow everything you’ve seen inside that building without regretting that, but maybe it’s the fact that taking down HYDRA would be the most important step for you at the moment.

Pierce demanded them to prep him, but he was out of cryo-freeze for too long. “Then wipe him and start over”. God, that was hard to watch, you’ve seen that before. He just loses his memories from the day once again. As the scientists place a teeth shield in his mouth, they begin the process of wiping his brain as he screams in pain. The sound is terrifying, and try to keep yourself stable for the next part.

You’re in an ER as you wait for James to show up and finally patch him and give him stitches. The man looks miserable, paler than you’ve ever noticed, his hands are still shaking, and his chest is compressed for trying to hold back the pain from the brain machine.

He sits on a stretcher as you prepare to clean his cuts, and you finally look at him in the eyes. They look a mixture of foggy, confusion, pain and anger. Bringing your hand close to his face, Barnes holds tight on your wrist with his metal arm.

“I don’t really need that”, he said. He always speaks with a lower tone, and you can barely hear what he says. You almost let out a scoff, but you’re too intimidated by him, he always has a killer look, and you didn’t want to be his next victim.

“You’re a super soldier, but you’re gonna bleed out if I don’t give you those stitches”, you respond. You carefully place a wet cotton on his brow, and he doesn’t flinch or make any noise, but you kind of understand how he manages to not feel the pain since he’s too used to that. Being too closed to him makes you wonder how that happened to him, because you never really learned about his life or his past, what he used to do and how he ended up there. You only knew about Steve Rogers, but mostly because he was already famous.

With his eyes closed, you can see his expression changes a little with your warm touch, but it could also be because that brings him some kind of comfort. You patch him and start taking care of the superficial cuts on his arms, learning that every inch of his body carries some scars, either they’re deep or small, they’re still there. As soon as you finish everything, you take your gloves off and throw everything in the trash. Behind you, Barnes stands up feeling some sort of dizziness, and you hold him still, making him sit back again on the stretcher.

“You may wanna lie down here and get some rest, your head is still sensitive from the wiping”, you watch him groan and get rid of your touch, but doesn’t complain. James closes his eyes and tries to rest his head on the pillow, but finds it too hard to actually keep his cool as his brain is confused.

“I don’t want to rest”, he whispers. As a nurse, you have the right to give him some medicine for the pain, but you opt to actually make him sleep only for the night. He should be fine, you thought. Pierce and the STRIKE guys wouldn’t show up until the next day.

It was still the middle of the night when Barnes woke up, still feeling his head a bit heavy and his body aching. His temples were pounding, and he found it hard to get his body up from the stretcher, even though he was given painkillers. Funny, a super soldier getting pills for the pain, huh? He went to the bathroom and decided to wash his face, taking a look at himself in the mirror.

The Winter Soldier realized he wasn’t looking his very best in a long time, but that was the third time he had his memory wiped in less than two weeks, and sometimes just couldn’t handle how much it actually hurt. He had no idea what had happened before he lost his memory, he had trouble trying to gather everything inside his head, but he could remember the delicate touch while being taken care of before blacking out.

He realized it was one of the few times he was actually being treated nicely, but then it hit him that it had been a long time since he wasn’t his James self. He knew he wasn’t like that. He knew he was triggered but had no idea how they did that, he only knew it was difficult for him to understand what made him that way, and when he was self-conscious, Barnes also knew he didn’t like that about him.

As soon as he came to his senses after waking up, James gathered his gun and knives and left the building. He went out looking for the target Pierce made sure he wanted out of the picture as soon as possible, and he couldn’t wait to take them down and end the mission before having his mind wiped out once again.

He was sitting at a café next to the apartment lot he learned it was of his victim, where they should be awake soon. Leaned against the chair on a table, the man was hiding his metal arm on a hoodie trying to disguise himself, but the look on his face didn’t give much appreciation to the waiter that came near him to offer him the menu, which he denied.

Not long after he got there, the woman left her place wearing common jeans and a shirt, carrying a purse where she would look for her badge from work. The Winter Soldier left the café and walked towards her, not looking both sides when he crossed the street as fast as he could.

Passing by an alley, he took the chance to drag her to a corner, covering her mouth with his flesh hand, while with the metal hand he made sure she wouldn’t let go of him. Even if she tried, he had a tight grip. You’ve had many self-defense classes over the last year, but nothing prepared you to actually be assaulted at daylight next to your house, which left you feeling hopeless as you didn’t have any moves in mind at the moment.

The man held a knife next to your face but didn’t say a word, until you decided to try and knock your head back on his. You heard a loud thud and figured out he hit his head on the wall, falling on the floor, unconscious, behind you. Not only weren’t you prepared for being harassed, but you also weren’t prepared when you turned around and saw James still blacked out.

“Barnes?”, you asked under your breath as your hands started shaking. You felt like you were spinning around and still had trouble figuring a way out of that. “Ok, ok. Shit, okay”, you tried to keep calm, but you felt like you were numb, your skin was pinching and your stomach was sinking inside your body.

You kneeled next to him and cupped his face, trying to wake up him. Did you kill the Winter Soldier, banging his head on a wall? Was that all that needed? If you actually killed him, what the fuck would HYDRA do to you? What if that was actually planned, and he knew what he was doing? After several minutes, you decided to use your taser on him, only enough to make him wake up. James suddenly opened his eyes and let out a loud gasp as he tried to catch his breath. He looked beyond confused, his eyes were searching for some sense, and he acted terrified.

“Hey, James. Hey, it’s me. It’s (Y/N)”, you tried to calm him, but he was still panting and couldn’t actually understand what was happening.

“Where the hell am I?”, he asked. When he finally looked at you for an actual answer, you realized it wasn’t the Winter Soldier talking to you. You just weren’t sure what just happened and how you would deal with him.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction #the winter soldier fanfic #userashe #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier imagine #marvelouslizzie

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onceuponastory · 10 months

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ghost story - the winter soldier x reader - series masterlist

As she got older, Y/N stopped believing in ghost stories. That is… until she finds one fast asleep and bleeding out on her grandma’s couch. The Winter Soldier was taught never to leave any witnesses, and he intends to follow his training… until he finds Y/N staring down the barrel of his gun.

Last Updated and Completed September 2nd.

Chapter One: Ghost Story

Chapter Two: If You Believe in Me

Chapter Three: Trust Your Gut

Chapter Four: Survival Tactics

Chapter Five: Give Me Thunder, Give Me Lightning

Epilogue

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sergeantxrogers · 1 year

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| something that we’re not |

Summary: Just don’t fall in love. That was the only rule. It was literally the only rule, and it was already broken.

Pairing: fwb!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Angst, swearing, alcohol consumption (if you don’t drink just pretend it’s juice xx), kissing, yearning, fluff at the end

Note: heyy y’all... i know it’s been a while and i also know i have a shit ton of unfinished stuff and a couple requests but this idea popped into my head like two days ago and i was gonna explode if i didn’t write it since i’m basically going through the same thing (just without the fluffy ending yet) i’ve been very very busy with college and studying and life in general, i miss you all like crazy tho, i hope you enjoy this :)

_______________

“So, I guess our best option would be moving to Quantico?”

“Do we really wanna be associated with the FBI, though?”

“Well, I just thought-”

“We need to look at more options.”

Your eyes bounced back and forth across the board room, landing on Sam, then Torres, then Fury. You tried staying focused, you really did.

But it was proving difficult with Bucky’s eyes searing into the side of your face, making you acutely aware of every movement you made and every breath you took. You shifted in your chair, eyes flickering towards him, and you saw his jaw clench with his lips pulled back in a subtle smirk. He moved his gaze away from you, instead opting to watch Fury as he spoke about... whatever he was speaking about. Something about finding new headquarters, or working out of multiple areas. Sam would give you the run-down later.

Bucky’s eyes would be the death of you.

You spent the remaining half hour of the meeting avoiding them altogether, biting your tongue and trying to keep your foot still and your breathing even.

“Y/N,” Fury’s voice boomed, and you jolted slightly.

All eyes turned to you.

“Any thoughts? You seem quiet today,” Fury observed, head tilted slightly.

You shook your head. “No, I just- No. Nothing to add, sir. I’m okay.”

You gave him an awkward smile as he stared at you a bit longer. Eventually, he decided he had grilled you enough, and called the meeting to an end.

You let out a long, quiet sigh, and turned your chair to face the glass table in front of you, papers and files askew and messy. You cleared your throat as your eyes followed everyone through the door as they left, dragging your hands slowly as you collected your papers. Sam left first, dropping a heavy hand on your shoulder as he went by. Torres went next, giving you a boyish smile, and Fury left after him without a word.

Your fingers tingled as you slammed your binder shut, trying to keep your smile at bay. You refused to look up, because you knew if you did, you’d be met with those eyes that got you to do anything they wanted.

“Problem?”

You shook your head nonchalantly, keeping your eyes glued to the plastic cover of your binder. “Not on my side. You could’ve tried being a bit more subtle with the staring, though.”

You heard him chuckle, and finally, you lifted your gaze to rest on him. A mischievous smile rested on his lips, his tongue dragging across his bottom teeth as he stared at you, slowly making his way around the table.

You stared back, unwilling to let him know how fazed you truly were with his proximity, even though it felt like your skin was on fire, a heavy, slow beat thundering in your ears and through your veins, travelling it’s course throughout your body and finding home deep in your core. You shifted your hips slightly. Bucky noticed.

He stopped walking only when he was a foot away from you. You swore if he was half an inch closer you would’ve fell to your knees in front of him, his gravitational pull too strong to avoid.

He was the sun, bright, burning, and energetic, and you were the singular, lone planet orbiting him, never able to pull away far enough to forget him, but never close enough to really, truly, have him. You just went in circles around him, over and over again, day in, day out, and he watched you and laughed. At least, that was what it felt like sometimes.

Bucky studied your eyes, gaze dropping to your lips, before lifting to meet your eyes again. Your chest rose and fell unsteadily no matter how much you tried to keep it in check.

“Come over tonight?” he whispered, eyes drinking in the way your pupils dilated at the sound of his voice.

You felt a tinge of sadness, buried somewhere deep inside your heart; a place you had closed off and locked up for good a long time ago in order to keep from breaking altogether. You kicked it down, swatting it away like an annoying fly before Bucky began to notice your hesitation.

“Okay,” you said softly, nodding. The smile on his face was almost worth the pain that singular word stabbed you with.

__________

One Year Earlier

You set the extra beers on the table with a soft grunt. Sarah turned, almost poking you with the barbeque fork in her hand, and gave you a grateful smile.

“You’re a sweetheart, Y/N,” she cooed, and you brushed her off with a wave of your hand, despite the blush on your cheeks.

“No biggie, you know I’m always down to help.”

Sarah leaned over the table, abandoning the grill for a second to place a kiss on your forehead. “You can go now, have some fun.”

You smiled and turned to walk away before she grabbed your wrist.

“Take one, honey,” Sarah said, pointing to the beers in front of you. “You’re a guest, too, ya know.”

You hummed with a happy smile before pulling out a beer from the package, then pausing. Before your judgment got the better of you, you pulled out another one, cold against your fingers as the droplets of condensation rolled over them.

“See ya, Sar!” you called out over your shoulder, and she waved the fork over her head in goodbye.

You weaved through the sparse crowd of people, saying hi to a few and smiling at some others. Sam was nowhere to be found, but you figured he was the one responsible for the children screaming with laughter somewhere near the end of the dock, so you decided you would look for him later. The water splashed gently against the wooden dock, the sound of the waves bringing you a sense of peace as you squinted behind your sunglasses against the sunset and looked for Bucky.

Finally, you saw a figure, dark and shoulders wide against the orange expanse of the sky, sitting on the hard top above the helm of Sam and Sarah’s boat. His feet were hanging over the glass windows, and you knew Sam would throw a fit if he saw him dirtying the glass with his shoes.

You smiled to yourself before gathering the courage to clamber onto the boat, holding on to the two beers for dear life as you did so.

“That you, dolly?” he called down, and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Who else would it be, dumbass,” you replied, holding up the beers and letting him take them before you grabbed onto the small ladder and hauled yourself up.

He scooted to the side, making room for you as you sat down beside him with a huff.

Bucky had opened the beers with his hand as you were climbing up, so you took one from him with a soft ‘thanks’, pushing your glasses up onto your head.

The two of you sipped in silence for a couple of minutes, your eyes scanning the open water, sparkling in the red and pink hues of the setting sun. It wasn’t as hot here, near the water, as it was back on the dock with the people and the food and the laughter. Everything seemed quieter, behind you, in another world. The boat back and forth softly.

“What gave you this idea?” you asked, breaking the silence.

Bucky was silent for a moment, tapping a finger against the glass of his beer, before shrugging and turning to look at you, squinting an eye against the sun.

“It’s peaceful,” he said, and you nodded.

You held your own beer between your legs and leaned back to rest on the palms of your hands. “You feelin’ okay, Buck?”

He took in a deep breath as he looked out ahead, staring at the water before just nodding his head.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Yeah, I’m good, actually. I just needed a moment to clear my head. Nothing bad, just... I’m grateful, is all.”

“Grateful for having such amazing best friends like Sam and me? Or grateful for being able to open beer without an opener? Or maybe grateful for Sarah’s world-famous barbeque chicken?” you teased, and he snorted a laugh, shaking his head.

He turned to look at you and shrugged. “All of it, I guess.”

He had said it so softly, and so truthfully, that your first reflex was to sit up straight, bringing yourself closer to him. You brought a leg up and folded it underneath the other one, left hanging beside his, so you were turned to face him completely. Your beer was left getting warmer in your lap, but you didn’t mind, because the way Bucky was staring at you right now made nothing else matter. It made you believe everything was gonna be okay eventually.

And you didn’t know what came over you. Maybe it was the soft waves rocking the boat, or maybe it was the cool summer breeze that danced across your arms. Maybe it was the call of a seagull somewhere in the distance and the soft murmur of the party back on the dock that made you close your eyes and lean into him. And he did the same, connecting your lips with a soft sigh that made you wonder if he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

Bucky tasted like beer and peppermint gum. His lips were soft, and warm, and a bit salty, as if he had come up out of the ocean himself, some form of Poseidon sent to seduce you and take you back underwater with him forever. And you would gladly let him if it meant he would keep kissing you like this.

You heard a soft rolling, and then a bang and a crash before realizing Bucky’s beer had rolled off the hard top and crashed onto floor of the boat. And he didn’t care, opting to now use his free hands to pull you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. This sent your own beer following his, the sound of glass breaking making you giggle against his lips.

“Sam’s gonna kill us,” you muttered, and he smiled into the kiss.

“I don’t care,” he whispered, hands travelling underneath your cotton shirt and leaving trails of fire wherever his fingers passed.

He pulled away, and you brought your hands up to tangle your fingers in his messy hair. He looked so beautiful, lips red and puffy, cheeks painted by a soft blush, eyes hooded and dark.

“I could get used to this,” he said, voice hoarse, and it sent chills down your spine.

You merely nodded. “Me too.”

Bucky brought a hand up to your neck and pulled you down into him for another kiss, and you melted into his touch.

“This is- this is good,” he mumbled against your mouth, and you just sighed and hummed in agreement.

“We should do this more,” he said, hands gripping your hips and moving you against him slightly. “We should do this a lot more.”

You bit your lip and stared into his eyes as you tried catching your breath. One of your hands found its way from his hair to his face, your finger tracing the worry lines between his brows softly, then dropping to travel across the bridge of his nose. “We should.”

Bucky nodded, and gave your hips another squeeze.

“Just don’t fall in love,” he said, a teasing tone lilting his voice, and the breath in your throat hitched.

“What?” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Just don’t fall in love,” he repeated, nipping softly at your neck as he spoke.

You scoffed. “Not a problem, trust me.”

Bucky lifted his head from your neck to look up at you. He gave you a boyish smile, and you rolled your eyes at him in return.

You hoped he couldn’t sense the way your heart split open, flooding with sadness and heartbreak at the realization that he didn’t love you the way you loved him. You hoped he couldn’t read the desperation in your eyes and on your tongue as each kiss dimmed your soul a bit more.

You hoped he wouldn’t notice the fact that you were madly in love with him already, but decided to pretend not to be, because having him in any way was better than not having him at all.

__________

“I just don’t know how much longer I can keep going.”

Sarah hummed in contemplation, wiping down the glass in her hand and setting it in the overhead cabinet.

“Well, have you talked to him about it?”

You scoffed. “No fucking way. I’d rather suffer in silence than lose him completely.”

Sarah threw the rag in her hand over her shoulder and rested her hip on the counter. She crossed her arms and gave you one of those looks of hers where she just knew you were bullshitting her.

“Y/N,” she sighed as she stepped over to the dining table where you were sat with your chin in your hand. “I’m begging you to think this through. You know I only want what’s best for you.”

You give her an unamused side eye and shrug your shoulders. You kept your focus on the placemat in front of you, picking at the edge with your finger.

Sarah pulled out the chair next to you and took a seat, bringing a hand up to squeeze your forearm.

“It’s been a year of you hurting after him and him not giving a damn. Now, I love Bucky, just as much as I love Sam, but he can be so dumb sometimes. It’s like he misses social cues on purpose.”

Her exasperated tone pulled a smile to your lips and you quirked your brow in agreement. Sarah continued.

“I love seeing the two of you together, believe me, if anyone wants you to end up together officially, it’s me. But if you’re too afraid to talk to him about it because you’re worried you’ll lose him, then there’s only one thing you can do, honey.”

You gave her a look, and she gave you an apologetic smile in return. “This friends with benefits thing just isn’t cutting it anymore, I fear. You have to let him go.”

You took in a deep breath to try and keep the tears at bay, because no matter how much you avoided it, you knew Sarah was right. You had two options: risk talking to Bucky about it and potentially ruining whatever semblance of friendship you had left. Or, you could stop giving in to him and running whenever he called just to feel a sliver of something bigger.

You let out a frustrated groan and let your head hit the table. Neither option sounded appealing, but you supposed if you had to pick one, you’d rather it be the latter. Ignoring someone was always the easy way out.

Or so you thought.

Three weeks later, and you were about to implode. It was difficult to go no-contact when all Bucky did was contact you.

Dozens of his calls left to voicemail and ignored text messages, you thought he would’ve gotten the message by now. However, he only seemed to be getting worse.

You left Sarah’s every time Sam called to say he was dropping by with Bucky. You asked Fury to put you on assignments with Torres instead of Bucky. You were doing your very hardest to come up with excuses as to why you couldn’t come over every time Bucky managed to corner you in a hallway or text you to stop by.

You thought it would get easier over time, yet your heart only ached more and more each day you woke up and remembered: it wasn’t the same anymore. Those first two seconds after waking up, before that sinking feeling of realization hit, were something you treasured more than life itself.

You wondered if he noticed. If he asked himself what had happened, or if everything was okay. He hadn’t come to visit, though, so you supposed he was just ready to move on to the next one after all.

__________

Bucky tried focusing on whatever Sam was saying. He really, truly was. But it was proving difficult when his thoughts kept pulling him back to you. Or rather, the lack of you these days.

It didn’t help that everywhere he looked and everything he saw reminded him of you in some way. The fishing nets Sam made him help haul over the bow? He smiled to himself at the memory of your foot getting tangled in them, making you trip and fall with a swear. The gulls flying above them? Almost like that time one flew down and stole a huge bite of your burger, leaving you wide eyed in shock. And God forbid he looked up, at the hard top above the helm. The first time you ever kissed him, soft hands and soft touch, marked to this day by the beer stains on the floorboards of the ship.

“Buck?”

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted to go out fishing with me later since Sarah’s busy with the kids. The babysitter cancelled on her, and you know she can’t leave those boys alone in the house for longer than five minutes.”

Bucky smiled fondly and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

Sam threw a rag at him, wet and dripping with soapy water.

“How about you actually help clean something for once, Barnes?”

Bucky rolled his eyes but obliged, turning to his side to start wiping down the hull as far as he could reach. As he wiped, he cleared his throat.

“Have you, uh, seen Y/N lately?”

Sam paused his mopping, letting out a sigh and resting his elbow on the mop handle. “Yeah, man, she’s at Sarah’s, like, all the time. Why?”

Bucky’s heart sank at Sam’s words, and he tried getting rid of the uncomfortable feeling in his chest as he shifted on his feet nonchalantly.

“Oh.”

“Why?” Sam repeated.

Bucky shrugged, still avoiding Sam’s eyes. “I dunno. I get the feeling she’s been avoiding me these days.”

Sam stayed quiet, and that prompted Bucky to look up from his wiping and make eye contact with him. He gave him a knowing look, leaning against the mop.

“What?” Bucky asked defensively.

“Does she have any reason to be avoiding you?” Sam asked him, and Bucky paused.

“I don’t think so,” he replied after a moment.

Sam scoffed and shook his head disbelievingly. “Alright man. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Bucky threw his hands up and turned towards him. “What is it? Do you know something I don’t?”

“You’re really stupid sometimes. You know that, right?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yes, actually, you’ve told me multiple times.”

“Good,” Sam said with a satisfied smile and clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Just makin’ sure you didn’t forget.”

Suddenly, his smile dropped and he lowered his voice. “But seriously dude, just go and check on her. Don’t be a jackass.”

Bucky stood still, even after Sam turned to continue mopping the deck, staring at the back of his head. He nodded slowly, to himself, and squeezed the rag in his hand a little tighter.

__________

The knock on your door had you groaning in annoyance, prompting you to push yourself up off your bed where you had been rotting away over the weekend. You had told Sarah you weren’t feeling very well, and it wasn’t a lie. You had just omitted the fact that you were emotionally unwell.

A chill ran through your body as you made your way to the door, making you wrap your robe a little tighter around your body. You heaved out a heavy sigh as you unlocked the door.

“Sarah, I already told you I don’t need any-”

It wasn’t Sarah at the door. Sarah’s eyes weren’t that specific shade of blue that made you want to sink into them and never come back out. Only one person had eyes like that-

“Bucky?”

“Y/N.”

“What... what are you doing here?”

“What, I can’t visit my best friend?”

A tiny, needle-like tinge pierced your heart at his words, yet another reminder that you were just that to him: his friend.

You stuttered, tripping over your words as he sidestepped you, making his way into your place.

“How have you been?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks, so I was wondering if you were okay,” Bucky clarified, shrugging.

You stared at him, standing in the middle of your living room, black t-shirt and black jeans so out of place in the midst of all your pink and grey furniture and decorations. Yet somehow, he looked like he was exactly where he belonged.

You shook your head, trying to brush him off with a slight chuckle. “I’m fine, Buck, I don’t... I don’t know what you mean-”

“Yes you do,” he interrupted you, cutting straight to the chase. “Why won’t you answer my calls? Why haven’t you been returning my texts? Why do you leave Sarah’s the moment you find out I’m coming over? You’ve been ignoring me, Y/N, and I wanna know what I did to deserve that.”

You stood flabbergasted, opening and closing your mouth, at a loss for words.

“I just- I,” you stuttered, shaking your head. “I have no idea what you’re talk-”

“Y/N,” he pressed, and in two long strides he was right in front of you, towering over you with his supersoldier frame. His hands came up to hold your face, his eyes searching yours for an answer. “Please don’t make a fool of me.”

Your bottom lip immediately began to quiver, and Bucky’s eyes softened.

“Bucky I-”

“Shit,” he swore softly, leading you over to the couch where he sat you down, kneeling on his knees in front of you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, dolly.”

You shook your head, even as the tears spilled over your lash line, because it was so stupid. The whole thing was just so stupid.

Bucky’s lips pressed against yours feverishly as he tried to kiss the tears away, covering your lips and cheeks in soft pecks. You tried pulling away, his actions only making the tears fall harder.

“Bucky, please,” you whispered hoarsely, and he pulled back to take a good look at you, his thumbs stroking your wet cheeks. He looked pained to see you in tears, which only made it harder for you to push him away.

“Y/N....”

You shook your head firmly, reaching your hands up to wrap around his wrists. “No.”

“What?”

“No,” you repeated. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Bucky looked slightly taken aback, and he dropped his hands from your face. “Do what?”

You shrugged and sniffled, gesturing between the two of you. “This... whatever this is.”

“What do you mean?”

Bucky looked genuinely confused, and it only made a sob tear through your chest.

“It hurts too much, Buck. I can’t stand to be the one you call only when you’re bored, or horny, or frustrated after a bad date. I shouldn’t have let it get this far in the first place but I’m just so fucking stupid because I kept thinking... maybe it’ll change... maybe he’ll realize. God, Bucky, I love you so much. I would do anything for you, including bring myself to fucking ruins if it means being able to hold you and touch you, even for just a little bit. You’re hurting me, Bucky. I can’t breathe when I’m around you.”

You took in a choppy breath after you finished your small rant, squeezing your eyes shut and letting fresh tears streak your cheeks. Bucky was quiet, and you were too afraid to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him with your eyes closed.

You felt his fingers brush the tears from your jaw. “Sorry for what?”

You swallowed heavily. “Sorry for falling in love with you.”

The silence surrounding you was deafening. It was threatening to suffocate you, pounding in your ears and clawing at your throat.

“Dolly,” Bucky whispered, and you whimpered.

“Look at me,” he said softly, and you refused, shaking your head like a little child. “Look at me, please.”

He grabbed your face and forced your head up. You opened your eyes to find his staring back.

“I love you, too,” he began, but you started to pull away.

“No, no, Bucky, you’re being mean-”

“Baby, please-”

“Bucky! You love me as your friend! You love me... you love me the way you loved Steve, or the way you love Sam. I’m in love with you, Buck, to the point where I would jump off a cliff if it meant helping you, or saving you, or even making you fucking smile.”

“Listen to me!” Bucky snapped, shaking your head in his hands slightly. You ran silent, punctuating his sentence with a teary hiccup as you studied his face.

He looked more distraught than you had ever seen him. His eyes were glinting with unshed tears of his own under the soft living room lights, and his brows were creased together in worry.

“What you don’t understand, Y/N, is that I am in love with you. And I always have been. And I... I think I always will be.”

You stared at him.

His fingers twitched against your face as you began shaking your head.

“But that... that doesn’t make any sense,” you retorted, and Bucky let out a sigh.

“I know,” he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them. “I only warned you not to fall in love because I... I wanted you to find someone better than me. Someone with less baggage. Someone who could give you the life you deserve. Not me. Never me. But I was just selfish.”

“Bucky...”

You let a teary laugh.

He looked up at you through his lashes.

“It’s always you. It’s always gonna be you. I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me sooner,” you cooed, bringing a hand up to brush his hair back from his forehead.

“I was just... I was afraid you only wanted something physical, so I pretended it didn’t bother me. I just liked being near you any way I could.”

You stared at him for a moment before a genuine laugh bubbled out your throat.

“We’re both so fucking stupid,” you said with a teary smile, tracing the shape of his lips with your fingertips.

He smiled against your feather-light touch and let out a content sigh.

“I love you, truly. I’m sorry I ever made you feel otherwise,” he whispered into your palm, placing a kiss to it.

“Doesn’t matter anymore. We get a fresh start now.”

_______________

TAGLIST:

@maatsim @a-ngeli-que @agirlinherhead @s-katergorl @ace-27749 @leyannrae @tailsoflightning @acidwidow @angelofthorr @gallysonegoodlung @creatingjana @i-loveyoubutyourenotmine @rosedpetal @inlovewfictionalmen826 @multinci @peaches1958 @loaksmuntxa @seitmai @writing-for-marvel

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lunarbuck · 1 month

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Anything/Everything

a/n: this is literally incoherent rambling... sorry. this is mostly just coming from the fact that i feel very lost rn so sorry in advance for that

not beta'd and barely edited, any and all mistakes are my own

bucky barnes & f!reader (any race) have a conversation on a fire escape

no warnings apply

my masterlist | @lunarbucklibrary

The air is crisp and cold as you climb out the window and onto the fire escape. The metal railing is cool against your palms, grounding you to the moment. There’s too much smog in the city to see any stars other than the North Star.

Tonight, just like every night, you make a wish. You wish for things to be different, for someone to come sweep you off your feet and take you to Neverland. To take you away from all of this. And tonight, just like every night, you know that won’t happen. That doesn’t keep you from wishing, though. From gazing up at that bright ball of light in the smoky sky and wishing with all your might, for someone. Anyone, to come save you.

Your fire escape is small, but there’s enough room for a little picnic chair, which you settle into after making your wish. The sounds of the city echo and muddle together into a familiar symphony, the background to your nightly ruminating.

There’s just enough light coming from your bedroom window to journal by, and though summer is fading to fall, you can bear the cooler temperatures for long enough to do tonight’s entry. You pop the cap off your pen, flip to an open page and jot down the date.

Just as you start writing your entry, you hear the familiar sound of boots on the fire escape below you. You don’t need to peek down to know who it is. Well, technically, you don’t know his name, but you know his face. Those piercing blue eyes, that dimpled chin.

He moved in last month but no one in the building knows his name. He’s like a ghost. But you’ve come to think of him as your ghost, since every night, he comes out just like you do. You’ve come up with your own story of him, that he’s wishing on the stars just like you are. That he’s just as lost, just as confused, as you are.

You return your focus to your journal, scratching out your thoughts as they pour out of your head. You’re so focused that you miss the ghost from downstairs walking up toward you. You miss him taking a seat a few steps away from the top. You miss the way his familiar blue eyes trace your features, committing them to memory, and the small smile that graces his lips for just a moment.

“What do you wish for?” He asks, his voice cutting through the night. You jolt. The timbre of his voice makes you shiver, it sends electricity sparking through every nerve in your body.

All you can do is stare at the ghostly man in front of you.

“What do you wish for,” he asks again, this time more gently.

“Anything,” you whisper.

“What do you write about?” You tip your head from the man up to the sky.

“Everything.” Silence falls between the two of you before you take a deep breath, returning your gaze to the man. “How did you know I was making wishes?” A whisper of a grin that disappears as quickly as it came crosses his lips.

“Because I’m making wishes too.” If this was anyone else, you’d make a joke, break the fierce tension that’s fallen in the space between you and the ghost. But you can’t help but feel like he can see right through you, right down to your soul.

Now, it’s your turn to ask, “What do you wish for?”

His eyes trace your face leaving a burning trail in their wake. “Someone.”

You slide off your chair, letting the chill of metal seep through your pajama pants. The ghost stays put.

“Who?” His blue eyes shift to your surroundings, the sky, eventually settling on the moon.

“I’m not sure anymore.” This moment, so full of vulnerability, makes your throat tighten. “I lost him a long time ago, I think. I guess I just thought he’d come back. He always came back.” The ghost in front of you looks more human with every passing second.

His dark hair, clipped close on the sides, is ruffled like he can’t stop running his fingers through it. His shirt is wrinkled and has signs of loose threads at the seams from years of wear and work. His eyes crinkle in the corners, frown lines litter his forehead.

“I hope your wish comes true,” you reply, meaning it. The ghost shakes his head.

“It won’t, but thank you.”

“So why do you keep wishing if you know it won’t come true?”

“Just in case.”

Just in case.

“My wishes never come true,” you confess. “But I can’t stop myself from coming out here anyways, I can’t help but feel the pull.” The ghost nods his understanding.

“Just in case.”

“Just in case.” Your eyes lock with his, and for a moment, you feel the world stop spinning. You feel time freeze. Everything slows, blurs, disappears, until it is just you and him.

“Who are you?” He whispers, brows furrowing.

“I don’t know anymore,” you reply. “Who are you?” You barely even hear the words as they leave your lips.

“I’m trying to remember.”

I am discontinuing my taglist. please follow @lunarbucklibrary and turn on notifications to be notified when I post new fics.

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captnvbarnes · 3 months

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➼ 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹’𝑺 𝑩𝑰𝑵𝑫 | (17+) 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

theme — mcu zombie au!

pairings — bucky barnes x fem!reader, steve rogers x fem!reader

warnings — graphic gore, language, angst, undead themes, apocalypse (twd inspired zombies), substance abuse, graphic violence, use of weaponry, cannibalism, slight fluff, smut, character deaths, forbidden love, slow burn, inspiration taken from twd universe

summary — the outbreak had happened as quick as the first bite. one, then two, then 1/3 of the population became 2/3’s. before any of the avengers could comprehend this threat, it overcame them with new york’s rising population becoming undead. bucky is your protector, not by choice but by chance he was there just in time to save you. you two flew the compound, leaving the life you knew. leaving your husband to rot. as you two grapple what this new world has become, everything became too much. the world depended on you guys to save them, but how could you save anyone now? and when the blood runs and the nights become colder, who will save you?

This story is best suited for a mature audience, so read at your own discretion.

➽────────────────────❥

PROLOUGE

OUTBREAK DAY

RUN AWAY

LEAVE IT

FIRST GLANCE

THIS IS HOME?

ATHEN

TRIGGER BANG BANG

ASSISTANCE

CAMP HELLFIRE

SINNERS

MAROON SKY

STRAYING

I CAN’T GO ON WITHOUT YOU

GHOST IN THE WIND

A SHINY PEARL

WELCOME HOME

SAVOR THIS

IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE

RAPTURE

HOW ARE YOU GOING TO BREAK?

SAVE YOURSELF FOR SOMEONE ELSE

SALVATION

EPILOUGE

➽────────────────────❥

tag list <3

@buckystevelove @frombkjar

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #marvel zombie au #Bucky Barnes zombie au #bucky barnes angst #Bucky Barnes slow burn #bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x reader smut #zombie apocolypse au

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urdepressedslut · 10 months

Text

Tears of an Angel ❝part two❞

♡ Pairing: The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Unbeknownst to you, lots of time has passed and Bucky still hasn’t come back. You begin to wonder if he was ever real in the first place. There’s someone new. The Soldat— who is he?

♡ Warnings: HEAVY ANGST, some fluff, hydra, bucky’s trauma, torture, needles, abuse, hints to sexual assault

part one ✧ main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+

You wondered how many times you could count the amount of stones on the walls before a guard approached your cell again— dragging you into the horrific room. The room that only held vile memories— ones that had you shuddering.

Ever since you had been left alone again— ever since Bucky was gone— you had lost track of time completely. Everyday blurring into one another, there wasn’t a pause in time. Every morning leaked into the night without recognition. It was disorienting and made you feel out of touch.

You rarely talked— the only sound of your screams ever escaping your lips. You would go so many days without uttering a sound— the slightest talking ached your throat. Your voice hoarse at the end of the day, with only six words leaving your lips.

You could hear the manic laughter as the guards teased you about being mute. Cackling sinisterly at the idea that they had broken you. In a way they had.

You weren’t sure why you were still here, and what your purpose was. You were sure you had an idea one time in your life— but with how things are now. You remember nothing, know nothing— are nothing. Well, you remember nothing but him.

Even after all this time, you still pathetically clung to Bucky. Hoping in your sick and demented mind that he’d come back for you one day— that he’d remember you just as you had him. But as the days melted into the other, you weren’t sure if that would ever be the case. But what harm would it bring you to hold onto the tiny hope.

The door unlocking to your cell had you jumping in surprise, having been lost in your head it spooked you. But otherwise, you sat still— even if the pain didn’t even start, you wished for it to end already.

You heard the door open completely and the sound of two footsteps enter.

“Soldat— take her to Room C.” One of the guards instructed, and you wanted to furrow your brows at the name.

Soldat?

“да сэр (yes sir).” A thick russian accent answered, and you risked a glance up.

You were disappointed to meet a half covered face, forehead curtained by thick brunette locks. It was definitely a man considering how deep the voice was. His lower half was muzzled— like a dog. But the look was certainly intimidating.

The Soldat grabbed your arm harshly, yanking you up— not giving you a second to steady yourself. You whined, the bruise on your collarbone shifting from the movement.

Ignoring your sounds, he dragged you out of your cell and down the hall towards the room of nightmares. You weren’t sure how much more pain you could take— you wish the darkness would just consume you already.

The guard had disappeared by now, leaving you and the Soldat alone. You weren’t sure if you should celebrate or not. The guards were harsh— mean. The Soldat so far has been aggressive— but you guessed that was nothing new.

“Please— don’t!” You whimpered when you could see the door to the room ahead.

You felt eyes on you, and you glanced to the side— your glossy eyes meeting with his dull ones. His stare gave you goosebumps, the fury hidden behind his eyes. Towards you? You weren’t sure— if so, why?

He didn’t respond, snapping his focus back ahead of him. Pulling you more aggressively towards the doorway. You could smell the room from here— even many steps away. You felt sick to your stomach, knowing what was to come.

“I’ll do anything, please! Don’t take me in there!” You cried quietly, as you tried to pull away from him— your feet attempting to plant you in your spot.

The Soldat whipped his muzzled face to you, his eyes wide with anger and something else. He wastes no time in trying to come up with a response— instead scooping you into his arms.

You gasped at the sudden movement, and didn’t try to wiggle out of his hold— as he was much stronger than you. You crying and walking to the room was already draining you of all your energy. With your weeks spent sitting in your cell— the walk from your cell to your room was tiring.

You continued to cry quietly, and noticed how close you were to him. He smelled of sweat and gunpowder— but also a familiar musk. A particular gust of the scent wafted into your face. It had you stopping your cries, looking up at him. At the same time he glanced down.

You blamed it on your delirious state— but you swore you saw his eyes.

Bucky.

Your mind wandered to the memories of his face through the gap. The way he held onto your hand— the feeling of comfort in this hell. The way you believed he was going to save you. Fuck— he couldn’t even save himself. You hated him, but you missed him more.

All too soon, the flashes of memories faded away into the abyss that was your mind. Coming back to reality, you felt the Soldat lower you onto the steel table. You immediately panicked, thrashing your limbs about.

“No! Please please!” You begged, grabbing his wrist in a tight grip. “Don’t leave me here!”

You weren’t sure why you begged this man for help when he was the one who brought you here. Meanwhile, the Soldat was confused. Your begging was sparking something inside of him. Something foreign yet familiar— it made him uncomfortable.

You watched as the Soldat grabbed your wrist— to the hand that held onto him tightly. He squeezed painfully, prying your hand off him. With a cry you had released him— your wrist throbbing from his hold.

He escaped your hold, turning to the right to exit the room— and that’s when you saw it. The sickly familiar flash of silver— his metal arm.

It’s Bucky… it has to be. Bucky.

Your cries went silent, your body going into shock that Bucky was so close. He was standing in front of you, in the flesh. He had held you— touched you. You were right when you had seen his eyes— you knew it was his eyes. The familiar smell. The familiarity that was his whole aura. He was here… so why was he treating you like a prisoner?

“Bucky?” You tried, desperate for his comfort as you had back in your cell.

He didn’t budge, simply continuing to walk out of the room. Leaving you alone in the torturous space. Your heart broke at him ignoring you— if he had heard you.

You wanted to call out again, but was interrupted by the door slamming shut. It was Bucky— he was here. You just needed to know what happened to him. Why he was acting like he didn’t know you.

You were left in shock, unaware of the scrawny doctors entering the room. You were stuck in a state of confusion— but also knowing just what was going on.

You didn’t want to believe it, he wouldn’t. Hydra wouldn’t. Yeah right.

A prick into your arm had you jumping, whipping your wide eyes to the doctors.

“Sleep now— you’ll wake soon.” The nasal voice whispered to you.

You weren’t sure if the fact that you’d be unconscious during your torture would be worse— not knowing what body part they’d be prodding. A part of you knew this was a true gift— not being able to feel and experience the pain. You’d be violated, yes. But you’d escape the agony— and that’s all you cared about.

The room spun for a little bit, until everything faded into darkness. You could only hope that it was the permanent darkness you’d been praying for— but you were never that lucky.

The sounds of metal clinking together had you jolting in your sleep hazed mind, the fog heavy in your brain. Your limbs felt heavy, like someone had tied weights onto your arms and legs. Your body was sore, even the slightest movement uncomfortable.

The metal clinking had you jumping again, and it was the sound of shoes shuffling against the floor that made you realize that you weren’t alone. Forcing your eyelids to lift, you could only see a blurry silhouette of someone standing over you.

You groaned in pain, as your body shook violently in agony.

What had they done to you?

The thought of not knowing had your skin crawling, the same feeling of wanting to rip your flesh off— coming back full force.

The longer you kept your eyes open, the blurriness started to clear, and soon you were staring into the eyes of him. Bucky.

But was it really him? You had assumed it was a him because of the metal arm— as no one else had one in this facility. Or so you knew of. But you still had that sliver of unknowing with him wearing the mask

His gaze was intense, his eyes full of a certain fury— but it wasn't towards you. His eyebrows were almost stuck in a furrowed manner, like he was always disturbed. He didn't shy away from your stare, if anything he held your gaze in a pleading manner— almost like he wanted you to see something hidden behind the striking blue.

"Bu—" You attempted but broke out into a cough, caused by the dryness in your throat, " Bucky... it's you."

His blues darted down to your mouth, watching the words slip past your lips. His eyes burned with confusion, like the simple spoken words were so confusing.

To you, it wasn't confusing. To him— he couldn't quite understand this nagging feeling that threatened to split his brain apart.

Who was Bucky? He thought.

It was a mixture of fear of the unknown feeling, but with that came an odd wave of comfort. He didn't understand why a prisoner like you would bring him anything of comfort.

You watched the war enrage in his mind, and you could almost hear the internal battle happening. His eyes flashed with pain, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips frantically.

"Bucky, please stop acting like you don't remember me— I'm scared! Please!" You begged, forgetting your condition. You'd be nothing but dead weight with your limp body, as you were unable to sit up by yourself.

His eyes grew practically red with anger, and turned away towards the cell door. His metal arm whirred by his side, his flesh hand twitching in frustration. You felt the fear fill your body as he turned away, his body facing the door— you didn't want him to leave you.

"Don't leave... please." You whispered, your voice breaking at the end.

He slowly turned his body to face you, the desperation in your voice sparking something yet again within him. He hated it but clung to it at the same time. Without controlling himself, he had kneeled in front of you. Without uttering a word— he stared. Taking in every detail etched into your face. Your skin, the lines, the indents— everything that he was sure he'd forget by the next mission.

He found himself memorizing your features, and he wasn't sure why. He was shocked to find your features familiar— the nagging feeling coming full force. Knocking the air from his lungs as he struggled to breathe through the muzzle.

"Thank you." You whispered, your eyelids feeling heavy again and you were afraid to shut them— worried he'd be gone the next time you open them.

He didn't say anything back as he just stared at you with a longing gaze— his breathing heavy and fanning through the muzzle.

You wanted to ask him why he was here with you in your cell, seeing as there was no point. But instead, you found yourself lifting your frail hand— hovering your fingertips above the mask.

He instinctively flinched away, his head jolting back from your reach. You paused your hand in mid air— staring at him with glossy eyes. Watching him cower away from your touch, the way his eyes held fear. The blue in his eyes stormy— haunted.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you— don't think I could if I tried." You tried to joke through the tightness in your throat.

His eyes widened slightly at your words, and you quickly clarified.

"But I won't hurt you— I won't even try." You promised to him, holding his eyes with such genuineness it had shocked him.

He sucked in a quiet breath, easing his head back to your hand. You kept your hand still, waiting patiently as he leaned into your fingertips— deepening his push until your entire hand palmed his muzzled face.

As he waited for the pain to come from your touch— he found the pain had never come. He was leaned against you and he felt comforted. Your touch was soft, and even through the muzzle he could feel the warmth coming from your clammy hand.

"See... I'm not hurting you." You whispered weakly, your body curling inwards— throbbing with a wave of pain.

The brunette's eyes widened in panic, darting all over your body— frantically searching your being for the cause of your pain.

You recovered quickly, the pain passing as fast as it had arrived. Now it had left you weak and sluggish— the tensing of your muscles tiring your already frail body. You met his worried eyes again, the sight refreshing— to know he had a soul after all. His empty behavior was worrying you for the longest time— unsure if he was even your Bucky still.

"M'fine... just tired." You mumbled, unsure if he could even understand you— but you were too tired to care.

Your eyes shut only for a few seconds, and thats when you heard the sound of buckles unfastening. The sound had you cracking your eyes back open, a gasp of surprise escaping your lips at the sight of his fully exposed face. He had taken off the muzzle.

It was your Bucky.

Your dry and cracked lips broke into a smile, one that would never reach your eyes. Despite the hollow look he sported, and the way he didn't even look like himself in little glimpses— you were happy to see him. Enjoying the quiet moment— the peace that came with his company. It all came flooding back into this cell as it did in the last one. The gap in the wall that had you two connecting— clinging to each other.

A sharp inhale had you snapping from your daydream, your eyes focusing back on his face. His blues were shining with unshed tears— almost like he was unable to let them fall. He crawled closer to your crumpled form on the bench in the cell— his hands resting near your body, but just enough where his knuckles could brush against you.

His lip quivered in frustration, needing to say so much— but knowing he didn't have enough time.

"It's okay... I've got you." You mirrored from the very first time he had comforted you through the gap.

His breathing slowed and he looked like he had instantly relaxed— letting his guard just slightly. But with that, came the flood of tears that ached to be freed. The emotions he had muted, painfully burning from him. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

He sobbed, leaning his forehead down to your arm. Bowing before you in a way— hiding his face away by smushing into you.

You just sat still, keeping your arms by your side— unsure if your affection would be welcomed. His cries broke your heart— his whimpers making your stomach knot up. You were broken beyond repair, but if you could you'd take away all his pain.

Both of you were stuck— trapped in what felt like an enteral hell. There was no end to the tortuous tunnel and you both knew that.

At least with each other— you wouldn't suffer alone.

A/N: sorry if there is spelling errors, i did a quick proof read once but it was awhile ago🤍

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