#winter solder x reader

[thestarkinternship]

Under the Table

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)

Summary: During a team meeting, you decide to have a little out of sight fun with Bucky. The kind that leaves both his mind and body the kind of mess that only you can clear up.

Word Count: 1.5k (no mention of Y/N)

Warnings: profanity, dirty thoughts, exhibitionism (other people unaware in the room), handjob (kinda?), mentions of sex and oral (male receiving). 18+, MINORS DNI

-

Bucky tried to focus. Really, he did. But with the feeling of your hand delicately trailing up and down his thigh underneath the table, his attention was starting to slip.

The sensation was so light at first that Bucky had almost dismissed it entirely. A quick glance at your face showed nothing unusual, and so he tried to refocus on the meeting and the details about the upcoming mission. Tony and the others carried on, none the wiser to Bucky’s confusion at the far end of the table.

But then there it was again. Slightly more pressure, and an inch further up his jeans. No, there was definitely something going on. He looked over at you again, tilting his head in curiosity. Studying you for a moment, Bucky couldn’t help but wonder. You were unusually still, your brows knitted together in keen focus. That wasn’t like you at all. Any other time, you’d be tapping a pen, bouncing your knee, drumming your fingertips on the wooden table. The constant need to fidget or shuffle around in your seat – no matter how much he loved you – drove him crazy. So what was going on? He couldn’t quite work it out.

The longer he looked at you, the more Bucky noticed the mischievous gleam in your eyes. It was the kind that you reserved for when you were alone together. But yet here you were, sat next to him in a meeting with some mysterious scheme running through your mind.

And then the next touch came. This time, a gentle squeeze on his crotch that was unmistakeable. That’s when Bucky realised that your hands were hidden, tucked out of sight.

He swallowed nervously. Oh God. It was you.

You noticed the change in his demeanour from confusion to surprise, as a small smirk played on your lips. You were brave, he had to give you that. He had to hold himself back from laughing at the idea of it all. Bucky was in disbelief at the audacity you had, but he was definitely not in a position to stop you. Keeping your eyes on Tony at the front of the room, you let your hand wander his lower body.  

His cheeks warmed as he felt himself begin to react beneath your touch. Cock stiffening more and more, he strained against the tight fabric of his boxers. Bucky squirmed, adjusting himself in his seat. The tiny movement pushed your hand further up, lingering right on his clothed shaft. Even beneath the thick denim of his jeans, the effect you had on him was becoming a growing problem. One that he couldn’t do a damn thing about. The smirk on your face grew, a fact that didn’t go amiss to Bucky. You were enjoying the control that you had in this situation. His jaw clenched tight at the realisation.

Any other time, you’d be underneath him, whining and whimpering whilst he loomed over you. His dog tags would be dangling in front of your face as he took his sweet time. He’d slip them between your lips, forcing you to be quiet as he teased your aching cunt for as long as he could stand before finally ravishing your body in the way that it deserved.

But now, Bucky was powerless. You knew his body like it was your own by now, and you didn’t need to look to know the way his cock would sit in his jeans. It didn’t take you long to find it, and as you did so your touch increased. You cupped your palm, cradling and squeezing as much of him as you possibly could. He sucked in a sharp breath. The chair legs squeaked whilst Bucky’s hips rutted, pushing his cock further  into your touch. You swiped over the spot where you knew his tip would be, and he mentally cursed at the drop of pre-cum that leaked out. The wet bead dampened his boxers as you spread it around with another gentle rub.

It was taking all of his restraint not to visibly react to what was going on. With darkening eyes, Bucky shot you a warning glare. If you carried on like this, he’d have no choice but to drag you out of your seat and bend you over the table so he could fuck you right here in front of everyone for daring to play with him. The image of him pinning your hands behind your back whilst he kept you in place to keep you from protesting flashed through his mind. These dirty thoughts sent Bucky into a hot spiral.

You slid your hand up and down his lap, squeezing in just the right places. His cock throbbed with a life of its own, yearning for more. Fuck. You weren’t even touching him and yet here he was, silently pleading with you to make him come.

Bucky rutted up into your hand, the head of his cock slipping through your grasp as you maintained steady contact. He wanted nothing more than to feel your soft hand wrapped around him, working up and down in careful strokes. To admire the sight of your pretty red lips parting before taking him deep in your throat. He’d hold your hair back, giving your wet tongue uninterrupted access to him in his most vulnerable state.

The current topic of the meeting was long forgotten as his thoughts revolved around you and only you. His heartbeat sped up, and Bucky could hear it ringing in his ears as the blood rushed from his head to his stiff length. He didn’t know it was possible to be this hard. Just from this small amount of teasing, it was nearly shameful how rock solid he was. Thin veins protruded up and down his swollen cock, rubbing against the cotton of his boxers. You were pushing his body to its limits in the best way.

Running your fingers up and down, his come swelled below the bulging tip. Bucky was so close. One more gentle squeeze of your hand was all that it would take to tip him over that edge you had brought him to.

He looked over at you, eyes glazed over, bottom lip trembling. The tension in his jaw eased as you urged him on to the release that he so desperately needed.

Please. Please let me come, doll.

You understood that pleading look in his eye right away. A subtle nod of your head was all the permission that Bucky needed. His teeth dug into his bottom lip to stifle a moan as he let go. You felt his thighs tense under the table. His hand flew to yours, the tight grip preventing you from overstimulating him in the moment. Bucky held your hand there still, and you felt the warmth of his come as it soaked through the layers of his clothing. And there was just so much of it. Streams of hot, sticky fluid coated his throbbing cock as he came down from the intimate high. For a moment, his eyelids fluttered shut as he revelled in the bliss of his emptied balls.

Finally, he released your hand and you pulled away. Whilst his boxers had caught most of the mess, a few stray beads had seeped through the material and onto your thumb. It shone under the harsh lighting, and Bucky’s eyes fell upon it at the same time that yours did. You looked up at him and without missing a beat, brought your thumb to your lips and sucked it off. The gesture happened too quickly for anyone else to notice, but it was all Bucky could focus on. How your cheeks hollowed out as you cleaned off his come. How wet your lips were as you licked over them. He chuckled softly at the whole ordeal. You were amazing.

His flushed cheeks returned to their normal colour as he relaxed. Letting out a slow breath, his shoulders fell back down, and his quick heart rate steadied. Sitting there in the mess you created, he couldn’t wait for to get you out of this room.

Not soon enough for Bucky’s liking, the meeting came to an end. Everyone began to gather up their things and clear out, but Bucky stayed there. Leaning back in his seat, he watched you talk mindlessly to Natasha like you hadn’t just gotten him off under the entire team’s nose. You said goodbye to Natasha as she left the two of you alone.

“So, what are we doing for the rest of today?” You asked casually, absentmindedly getting ready to leave yourself.

After a quiet moment, Bucky stood up. His hands slid over your hips and pulled you back into him. You gasped a little as he spun you around, keeping one arm tight around you. Lifting his other hand, he cupped your cheek, tearing your focus away from your bag on the table. Tension built in the quiet room at the small gesture. A cool metal finger traced over your bottom lip, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Well, you’re coming with me, and you’re going to clean up the mess you made.”

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 7: Somnophilia - Winter Soldier

Summary: He had been instructed to find you after he had completed his mission for a debrief, but he has needs to be taken care of first.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content!!!, consensual somnophilia, kinda freeuse, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, rough sex, obsessive behaviour, multiple orgasms

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

The Winter Soldier had only been to your home once more, the location of which wasn’t even included in any Hydra files, but he knew. He always seemed to know where you were, seeking to find you in the darkness. He had been your patient and priority for years. Not only were you his Doctor but carer, the person to give him his missions and report back to; you fed him, helped even to wash him on occasions, you had been ordered to look after the Soldier’s every need, by whatever was necessary.

You’d instructed him two days before report to you following the completion of his mission, and tomorrow, in the early hours of the morning, you were to go to the Hydra base and wait for him to arrive. This was why you were shocked, to say the least when he turned up at your home clearly; whatever had occurred during the mission had riled him up, making him desperate for release.

You should have anticipated this with the Winter Soldier, and to be truthful, you, too, needed some sort of a release from how on edge you’d been over the last 36 hours of watching his heartbeat on a monitor to make sure that he was surviving through the mission. Only after he had confirmed the kill and was on his journey back you finally collapsed face-first onto the bed. 

Even though he was your patient, the relationship was significantly blurred as of late as human instinct and the need to find satisfaction through touch had escalated. You weren’t sure when or where, but as he became more unsettled and riled up, his trust in you increased, and he made advances of the sexual kind.

You’d used the excuse that it was to get his frustrations out, which is why you’d allowed it to continue, but in truth, you were just as lonely and in need of human contact, too. The bond the two of you had formed over the years meant that, in an odd way that was inexplainable, you trusted the assassin. There had been enough circumstances that he had lost control and on the warpath, and the only person who would never come to any harm would be you; even after his memory was wiped, he would automatically answer to you and no one else. 

Therefore, now, the Soldier was more unpredictable, needing the warmth of your body but also being fascinated by how you reacted to the point that he’d become obsessed. This was how you got to the situation you were currently in.

You’d been in a deep-sated sleep that was desperately needed, but because of that, you were incredibly disorientated. The bed felt softer than usual; the thump of your heart fluttered against your eardrums, covering up the sounds produced further down the bed.

Your entire body was floating like the bed had disappeared, and you’d somehow landed on a fluffy cloud. Everywhere was warm, comfortable and yet vulnerable; you felt exposed at first but soon realised that the bed sheet must have slipped from your body, exposing your nudity.

The more that time ticked on, the more your surroundings began to unblur. You realised that the warmth of your body was actually a burning in your muscles being held in a specific position by a heavy weight pushing on it.

Taking a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with cool air, you soon came to the realisation that you were moaning deep from the back of your throat. Drowsy, dry moans that continued in a steady flow as you reacted to something even in the depths of sleep.

With a whole body shiver, you attempted to move, to understand why your core was pulsing with pleasure; however, when you tried to stretch your legs, thick leather gloved-covered hands held your thighs back so that your knees were grazing your chest.

“Wha-What’s going on?” you asked, but your throat was so dry and sleep still evident so that your voice was croaky and deeper than usual. Your only answer came in a long hard lick of a tongue from your hole to your clit.

Your back arched with an automatic response, hands moving down to deel whoever was there and was greeted with a clammy forehead and hair that felt long, unwashed and draped over your mound.

A powerful suck to your throbbing bundle of nerves forced your eyes to bolt open; back still arched, but now, you were pushing up on your elbows to half sit up and look at the man you already knew who was there, eating you out like a man wholly starved, like it was his first meal in days. You supposed he probably was hungry, besides from the fact that he’d been travelling for hours, as his high metabolism meant he usually was hungrier quicker than others.

The Winter Soldier was lying on the bed, stomach down against the mattress, his tactical gear still on and only his mask was missing. He was still coated in grim dirt from the mission, even on the gloves that held your thighs in place, but he didn’t care, and neither did you as he helped himself to your pussy. For a moment, you contemplated his night; he must have travelled non-stop to get here and then dropped to his knees and started licking your cunt, probably too hyper-fixated on your nakedness even to bother to wake you.

The moans in the back of your throat increased in volume, the tips of your fingers moving further into his hair to hold him in that position right as his tongue curled deep inside your hole just as you liked it.

The Asset's eyes were closed. However, they always were when he pleasured you, as if he was so in the zone, only wanting to listen to your sweet melodies of moans and taste your unique sweet taste like it was the best and only thing that mattered to him.

“Soldier”, you gasped with a rush of air escaping your mouth as you collapsed back onto the mattress, feet tilting and resting onto his shoulders to help keep him in that same position.

The grip on your thighs tightened almost to the point of leaving bruises as he responded to his title, and your walls were beginning to clamp down with more urgency to suck his tongue deeper. Just a little more, a particular flick of his tongue, and you were orgasming, squishing his face by grinding your hips and holding his hair firmly in place as your cunt contracted against his tongue.

The Winter Soldier didn’t stop fucking you with his tongue until your muscles loosened and fingers relaxed, and then dropped back onto the mattress as you stared up at the ceiling in the after-orgasmic bliss.

One minute, you’re grinning like an idiot, blowing out a long, steady breath, and the next, you’re face down on the bed as the Asset twisted your hips, turning you over and rising on the bed himself.

This was usually how it happened, so you had anticipated it, especially to be moved into this position. It was his favourite position to do it from behind, whether it was bending over a desk, countertop, bed or on your knees like you were now, face down and ass up. The conclusion you’d come to that he preferred it this was it wasn’t as personal as face to face, which had happened once, and he’d gone into a complete meltdown to the point that he had needed to be frozen again and Pierce had been beyond fuming after he’d found out what had happened. It was most likely because he’d seen the euphoria on your face during sex and bought back some human emotion for him that the Soldier couldn’t understand.

So now, the fucking was exclusively from behind, but you didn’t mind, especially as it was wild, as he always fucked you so deep from this angle. The Asset only unzipped himself, not bothering to undress any further, finding it unnecessary even to remove his shoes as he wiped his cock up and down your folds to later his tip in your juices.

This was your only warning before he began to fuck you. One sharp thrust in, 5 seconds to adjust and then it was a free-for-all. 

Hard, deep, fast thrusts. Your bed bounced against the wall, smacking noises of both the impact of the bed and your hips being slapped against his as he held tightly onto the flesh, using the momentum to push and pull your body against his.

The Winter Solider’s balls smacked your tender clit, swollen from his mouth. Your fingers fisted into the pillow beneath your face, teeth also having to bite the material so that your poor neighbours didn’t complain about the screaming at whatever late hour that it was.

He was rough, but the Asset needed to be. He needed to feel hard sparking touches as anything else would have been too overstimulating in the sense that he wasn’t used to soft touches, only from you, but when he was in control, he craved it to be like this. The mushroomed tip of his thick cock was fucking repeatedly into your cervix, almost making you see stars with how good and intense it felt. Your juices were making squelching noises with each thrust of his member, and it was so loud and obscene that it covered the sound of your muffled moans.

Not a single noise came from the Asset; he was always silent for the most of it. Only his heavy breathing could be heard, but at least this time, he wasn’t wearing his mask like usual.

However, he decided to mix it up slightly, doing something he hadn’t attempted before as his grip on your hip released so he could take hold of your shoulder, pulling on it until you were entirely on your knees, naked back flush against his tactical gear-clothed chest. The arm on your shoulder then scooped around your front, resting between your breasts and fingers around your neck to ensure you didn’t fall forward. You knew the metal arm was holding you up due to the firm feeling beneath the leather clothes.

His parted lips hovered next to your ear like he would whisper something to you, but no noises or words came. The rolling of his hips slowed, but the thrusts were still just as deep and methodical, the buckles of his belt digging into your bare flesh until you were clawing at his wrist to all of the stimulation.

It felt so good, so god damn good that you were already clinging to him and wanting to scream that you were about to orgasm again. Still, he already knew from how your pussy clutched to him like a lifeline, attempting to milk his cock with his hard it was squeezing his length in flutters. The Soldier continued, not phased or slowing as you shivered and then came, warm wet juices soaking down your thighs as your cunt pulsed around his cock.

Nothing could ever prepare you for his libido, though. He could stay hard for hours due to his super serum, and with how needy and lonely you were, you’d fucked him enough time to get used to the long sessions, knowing by the end, you’d be overstimulated and thoroughly satisfied.

Two more orgasms later, you were a trembling mess, having moved to lie on your side as he spooned close behind, hair drenched from how warm he was, still completely dressed. You were curled around your pillow, pussy sensitive and flooded from all of your orgasms, and he finally made a noise, releasing a deep groan as his seed spilt into your pussy, coating your walls and then leaking out and dripping onto the bed.

You were already half asleep again as he pulled out, standing to clean himself. With half-lidded, heavy eyes, you forced yourself to turn onto your back to follow his movements. It was sometimes hard to remember what your job role was, that it wasn’t some kind of a fling or one-night stand, so with great difficulty, you asked, “Mission report?”

[sarahowritesostucky]

Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago. 

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.” 

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?” 

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared. 

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?” 

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.” 

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear. 

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs. 

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer. 

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no— 

“Looking for this?” 

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.”  He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.” 

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?” 

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?” 

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.” 

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger. 

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger. 

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for. 

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?” 

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.”  He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens. 

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”  

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.” 

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you. 

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat. 

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.” 

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.” 

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you. 

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?” 

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss. 

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?” 

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?” 

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.” 

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.” 

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch. 

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little, 

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?” 

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.” 

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?” 

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him. 

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen. 

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?” 

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there. 

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him. 

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word. 

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

Story Masterlist

Masterlist

🍵Consider tipping your friendly neighborhood starving artist smut author!

✍🏻Commissions: reach out via Tumblr DM or contact here

💖Join the tag list by filling out this form

This has been a fill for:

Event: @anyfandomdarkbingo

Card: sarahyellow / sarah-writes-stucky

Square I3: Gun Kink

Event: @anyfandomgoesbingo (kink bingo)

Card: sarah-writes-stucky

Square B3: Accidental Scent Bonding

Event: @steverogersbingo

Card: SB3088 "stark-contrast"

Square C2: Winter Soldier Steve

Event: @badthingshappenbingo

Card: sarahyellow / sarah-writes-stucky

Square B5: Home Invasion

@lolitsbuckybarnes, @kathy-2005, @stuckysgal, @thenewmissescullen, @sapphirebarnes, @cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01, @ppbhquinn, @myfavbuckyfics, @liannafae, @sadsackssss, @timidquindim, @dakotali, @rayofdawnworld, @wintrsoldrluvr, @lindasweetie, @literaryavenger, @foulpersonahandsvoid, @autumnrose40, @alexakeyloveloki

[buckysugar]

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 | 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

au masterlist

reader has a bad dream and struggles to maintain a balance between her big self and her little self. it doesn't help that all she wants is bucky, the man she wishes to be her daddy.

note: this my first fic so please be kinds !! i hopes you likes n maybe i writes more in the futures? thankies for readings, i lubs you 🎀☁️🫶🏽💗

you were a lonely baby when bucky met you. you had your family, sure, but they weren't there for you in the way you needed them to be. you'd just had a fall out with your best friend and had began isolating yourself from everyone and everything

it wasn't until peter found you at school, crying on a park bench in the rain, that things started to change for you. that was a few months ago. under the false pretence of moving away for college, you left your family and joined peter at the avengers tower after three months.

everyone loved you the moment they met you. you were so kind, so quiet and well-mannered. just so doll-like that no one could pick a bone with you. they hadn't known you were a little, and they still didn't but they wouldn't be surprised to find out. they all protected you and cared for you like you were their own. of course, you felt very out of place considering how quickly everything had happened but they all reassured you that they enjoyed having you around more than you knew. and with peter by your side, things were okay.

the one person who was iffy about you at first was bucky. he was too scared to come close, to taint your innocence with his darkness. over time, he came to realize how similar the two of you were in different ways and he let his wall break down. he opened up to you in the slightest of ways, and so did you. your feelings of hurt and anxiety still resided in your heart, but the avengers made you feel like you finally had a home. especially bucky.

"y/n, peter, what are you still doing up?" tony asked as he barged into the boy's room.

"we're just studying for a test, mr. stark. there's a lot to cram," peter replied in a tired voice, running a hand through his hair as the only light in the room came from his laptop and the bright city outside his window.

"okay, well this isn't the time to be studying, it's 1am. go to sleep," tony looked at him sternly, ready to walk out. "tiny, you look tired. head to bed, alright?"

"y-yes, sir," you nodded softly, giving him a smile.

"goodnight, kiddos. get some rest."

peter huffed, slamming his laptop aggressively. this caused you to flinch from your seat on the bed, making him give you an apologetic smile.

"i didn't realize how late it was," he spoke quietly, moving your book out of your lap. "let's get some rest, bug."

"mkay," you shuffled under the covers and made room for him to come in beside you. peter turned on the night light he kept for you in these instances before sliding into bed, opening his mouth to say something when he noticed the pout on your face.

"what's wrong?"

"i don't have squiggles."

"i got you," he tried easing your worries, pulling you into his chest. "you're safe with me, now close your eyes y/n/n."

"thank you, petey. goodnight."

--

"stop! where's my bucky? where's my daddy? i want him!" you shouted at the man in front of you.

"he's not coming back for you. he's gone, you're all alone like you always have been."

"i wan' him back," you cried, looking around through the foggy crowd of people around you. you didn't know where you were or who you were talking to, but you felt so alone and unsafe.

"you're alone now, y/n. nobody's coming to find you. you're trapped."

--

you woke up to heavy breaths, jolting upwards as you forced yourself awake. you were shaking like a leaf, heart beating rapidly against your chest as you looked down at peter who was sleeping soundly.

"wan' bucky," you whispered through tears, clutching the blanket to your chest. you were feeling so little right now, so scared and vulnerable.

you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to go bother or disturb him. the man rarely ever slept, but what if this time he was? you couldn't do it. but staring at the clock that read 3:14am, you didn't know how much longer you could take it.

he always told you to come to him whenever you needed him. you never did for fear of wasting his precious time but surely he wouldn't mind, if he wasn't asleep at least. you took a deep breath, using the back of your hands to wipe away the stray tears you didn't know had fallen. you carefully hopped over peter's sleeping frame and quietly made your way out of his room.

the hall was dark, making you let out a quiet whimper. your fingers clawed at your neck as you took shallow breaths, wishing you were holding squiggles right now for comfort. he always knew how to cheer you up.

"miss. l/n, you appear to be in distress. shall i alert mr. barnes?" F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice boomed, causing you to jump out of your skin.

"n-no, no, no. F.R.I.D.A.Y, b-be quiet. you'll wake everyone ups," you whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

"i'm sorry, ms. l/n, it appears mr. barnes is already on his way."

"w-what?" your eyes widened, looking around as you heard heavy footsteps walking towards you.

your eyes cracked with tears as you couldn't see a thing, reminding you of your scary dream as a quiet sob made its way out of your mouth.

"hey, y/n/n, don't worry. you're okay, everything's okay, love," you heard the familiar voice.

"b-bucky, you here?" you asked the dark abyss, pulling your thumb into your mouth.

"hun, i'm right here. i'm walking towards you," bucky replied, not missing a beat. his voice didn't sound tired at all. in fact, he sounded more awake than ever.

as he reached you, he heard the little sounds coming from you and his heart ached. he carefully placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump and cry.

"plum, it's just me—"

you quickly ran into his arms and he held your quivering frame tight to his chest. you didn't want to speak, not in the hall where anyone could find you. you wanted to go to his room and let everything out, tell him all your fears and get the reassurance you so dearly needed.

"shh, shh. you're okay, my love, you're alright. i'm right here, i'm not leaving," he comforted, lifting you into his arms and taking you to his bedroom.

he locked the door behind him and sat on the bed, running a soft hand down your back as your tears soaked the skin on his neck.

"what happened, bug? what's got you so worked up?" he asked quietly, pulling you out of his chest.

you made a sound of disapproval before shoving your head back into the crook of his neck, just needing to be close to him.

"okay, okay. that's okay you can stay there," he rocked you slowly. "but can you please be the good girl i know you are and tell me what's wrong?"

you hiccupped, nodding your head. "t-the.. the guy t-took me.. n.. n you was gone!"

you balled his shirt in your fist, sobbing so hard your chest began to hurt. "was— was all 'lones n he.. he saids you wasn't gonna come backs."

"aw, my love," it clicked that you had a bad dream, the hurt in your voice tugging at his heartstrings. "i'm right here, i promise you i'll always find you wherever you are."

"was s-so scareds d.. da.. mm," you shook your head and stopped, finally taking the moment to actually realize where you were. you were with bucky, you couldn't call him daddy. but you were safe, no one was going to take him away from you and he wasn't going to leave you.

"thought.. thought you were g-gones," your voice cracked at the memory. a string of snot clung to his shirt through your cries and you wanted to laugh but you couldn't.

he kissed the top of your head, deciding again to try to get you to peak out from your hiding spot. he cupped your face in his hands, observing your red and teary eyes. he wiped the tears away softly before kissing both your cheeks as you hiccupped again. your lips were plump from the crying, and he continued looking down to notice scratches on the skin of your collarbone.

he'd have to talk to you about that in the morning, but for now he needed to get you back to sleep.

"you need a tissue," he mumbled, reaching over to his bedside table and grabbing one. he placed it on your nose. "blow."

you listened like you always do, silent wetness still dripping from your cheeks but they were beginning to slow down. he through out the tissue after humming in satisfaction. his hands moved down to your neck, using his thumbs to rub soft circles under your ears as you sniffled. it felt good, really good. you closed your eyes, his touch being more than enough to bring you back down to earth.

"you feeling a little better, baby?"

"mhm," you nodded, wiping your face aggressively. "m sorry."

"no, no. don't ever be sorry. you're okay, my baby's alright. bucky's here, you'll never be alone, hm? it's all going to be okay," he pulled you back into his chest, cradling your head ever so gently.

"t-thank you, bubby."

he smiled at the nickname. "no thank you's. now, lets get the little one back to sleep, how does that sound?"

"sounds good," you whispered.

"good girl," he turned off the lamp by his bedside table and got himself into bed with you clinging to him like a koala bear.

he simply chuckled as you looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he could feel your heart beating against his chest, it was still a bit quick but not as fast as it was before which was a good sign. no more words were spoken from you but he kept uttering words of reassurance until your breathing slowed. his delicate voice and the feeling of his hand tapping your side lulled you to sleep in no time.

[glossysoap]

ready to comply - prologue

warnings: canon typical violence, injuries, weapons, switching povs between your thoughts and the boys’ thoughts. appearance of a major marvel character, you’ll know when you read it.

note: russian will be written in bolded italics. eng translation for russian sentences will be written in non bolded italics directly after said russian sentence. simon/johnny will be used interchangeably with ghost/soap.

inclusivity note: no mention of flushing or hair type. the woman can drag you/lift you because she has super serum, so you can imagine any body type for the reader.

up to date masterlist here!

ex: пример. example.

word count: 3,092

The 141 was on a mission in Moscow, Russia in the dead of winter. The battlefield was covered in a thick blanket of snow as flurries fell from the sky.

The rest of 141 was raiding a nearby warehouse for supplies and intel while you, their head surgeon, was waiting in the medical tent with a few residents and scrub nurses to assist you in any emergency surgeries that may arise.

Betadine, rubbing alcohol, suture kits, needles, gauze pads, bandages, forceps, ambu-bags, defibrillators. Pulse oximeters, intubation kits, casts, IV bags.

You made a mental tally of all of the supplies you had as you sifted through them. Bins were arranged on a large folding table in the middle of the tent, every bin allocated to each type of item. All suture kits in one bin, all gauze pads in another, and so on. You prided yourself in having an efficient, organized system that made triaging simple and less overwhelming.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when a sharp gust of wind blew into the tent.

Your arms and back prickled with goosebumps as a shiver racked through your body at the sudden temperature change. You thought you had bundled up appropriately for the weather but the task force wasn’t expecting such a harsh blizzard.

You turned to look at who unzipped the tent to see Johnny bustling in, dragging Simon behind him. A grin pulled at your lips at the sight of your two best friends.

Both of them were covered in snow, down to their clothes and tactical gear. Johnny's usually tan cheeks were flushed pink from the biting cold and his mohawk was dusted with snowflakes. You’d bet that if Simon didn’t have his mask on, his face would probably be red too.

“What brings you in, boys?” You ask, eyes surveying both of their forms for injuries. As they bounded to the beds closest to you, you could see crimson staining Johnny's shoulder and Simon's wrist.

“Got some grazes-” “Dinnae fash about it, Doc!” Johnny interrupts Simon with a cheeky smile, sending you a wink with his baby blues.

“English, Mactavish.” Simon grunted, yet not sounding the slightest bit bothered. You and Simon shared a look before rolling your eyes at Johnny's antics.

“Don’t worry about it, Doc.” The corners of your lips quirked up in an amused grin at the Scots’ translation.

“Yeah? I’ll be the judge of that. Sit, you two.” You ordered, nodding to some medical beds.

They chose to sit on the same bed you were standing in front of, one of them sitting on either side of you. Caging you in between their two big, broad forms. Johnny was sitting to your right and Simon to your left, both of them already removing a layer of gear for you to be able to patch them up.

When the two men were so close to you, you were suddenly reminded of their broad shoulders and towering height. They weren’t that much shorter than you even as they sat down on the bed.

You tried to ignore the way Simon's hand brushed your left arm and Soap’s hand grazed your right arm. You also tried to ignore the warmth that bubbled in your stomach and how your heart fluttered at even the smallest amount of contact from them.

Sometimes you found yourself forgetting that Simon and Johnny were already together because of all the attention and affection they give you. Inevitably though, a pit opens back up in the bottom of your stomach when you catch them looking at each other with that look that they reserved for the other man.

As you began treating their injuries, their touching only escalated. When you were treating Simon's injury, he had taken to holding your left forearm and rubbing slow circles into your skin as you patched his injury up with your other hand.

Johnny wasn’t much better, ever the overly affectionate one. You needed to be closer to Johnny due to the location of his injury so you leaned a bit closer to him. You let out a surprised yelp as the Scot pulled you in even closer so you were almost sitting in his lap — and you could’ve sworn that sparing a glance down at his thick thighs for a split second gave you heart palpitations.

If that wasn’t bad enough, his warm hand rested on the small of your back to keep you close and secure in his grip. Like Simon, he was also tracing small circles with his thumb. After testing the waters, Johnny began to slip his hand up the back of your top, resting it on the small of your back again — this time against your bare skin. You knew he ran hot but you never felt it so up close and personal. The almost burning warmth of his palm against your skin was a pleasant contrast from the freezing cold.

Your heartbeat was thrumming in your ears at the feeling of Johnny's rough, callused yet gentle hands. As he put more pressure on the small of your back to pull you closer, a tingle ran down your spine. You gulped.

This entire time that you were stitching up Johnny's grazed shoulder, you could feel his cerulean eyes burning into you. Searching your face for any reaction, committing every detail to memory — down to your long lashes fluttering against your cheek when you blinked and how you took your bottom lip between your teeth when you were concentrating.

You could feel Simon's honeyed brown eyes on you but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Johnny's wound to see for yourself.

Simon's intense eyes were drinking you in. Every fucking inch he could get his eyes on. Starting at your nimble, working fingers stitching up his lover’s shoulder with such care and attention. Then going to your bare, exposed neck that was on full display given that your hair was put up and out of your face. As he stared at the expanse of your neck and the throbbing pulse point at your jugular, it took all of his strength not to jump up from the bed right then and there and claim you. He could only picture your neck littered with teeth mark indentations, the exact same way Johnny's back is.

Meanwhile, every single lingering touch and burning gaze only made you more conflicted. Every single touch made the pit in the bottom of your stomach worsen. You could only relish in their kindness and casual touches for so long before it chipped away at you. It’s not even that you were jealous of either of them, far from it. They deserved each other. They completed each other. You just wanted to be let out of it, to be spared from all the attention.

Suddenly, two of your residents peeked their heads into the medical tent to yell for you. “Doc, you’re needed out here!” You let out a sigh of relief at the much needed opportunity to get away from the two brute men.

Sparing a brief glance at the men, you handed them off to another doctor that could handle the rest, “He’ll take care of you two from here.”

As you walked to hand the other doctor their medical files, you didn’t see Soap’s longing glance your direction and the way Ghost’s hand was still reaching towards where you were a moment ago. Reaching to keep you there.

You clapped the doctor on the shoulder as you jogged past him and out of the medical tent. Immediately you felt a weight lift off your shoulders as you left the tent, escaping from the empty touches that left your heart aching for more. Aching for what you knew would never happen — could never happen.

“What do we got?” You asked, looking at your residents as you pulled new medical gloves on. When you started preparing for a new patient, you felt any previous thoughts melting away, being replaced by the familiar adrenaline high of surgery.

“Caucasian female, approximately early to mid thirties. Suspected pneumonia. Possible internal bleeding, possible concussion and ruptured right eardrum, along with some gashes on her arms.” One of your residents began listing symptoms while you made your way to the patient.

You grimaced as they spoke, already imagining what the patient must look like in that condition.

You and your residents arrived at the patients gurney where the woman laid, holding her bloody abdomen. She was supervised by two nurses that helped to keep her stable until you got there.

Your eyes scanned her shaking form, looking for any other injuries. Her emerald eyes were wide and glossy with tears, there were tear streaks running down her cheeks as well. Her lips were plump and red, the bottom lip was almost split from her biting it to try and stifle the pain. Her hair was vibrant red, thankfully not from any blood, and it flowed in messy waves down past her shoulders. She writhed and thrashed with every wave of pain that washed over her, her hands clawing into the sheet of the gurney. You could hear her teeth chattering from how cold she was as well.

“She’s been nonverbal so far and we suspect she can’t speak English. If she’s a civilian, she’ll be a native Russian speaker.” A nurse informed you.

You nodded to yourself, a beat passing as you evaluated the situation at hand.

You pulled out your tablet and searched for Russian translations, only coming up with the bare minimum phrases for the Russian language. Pursing your lips, you decided that while it wasn’t the best or most detailed, it would have to do.

Turning towards the patient again, you grabbed her hand with both of yours and squeezed it gently.

“Мне нужно осмотреть вас на наличие травм.” I need to examine you for injuries. You told her, trying your best to pronounce everything accurately.

“Все в порядке?” Is that alright? You asked, trying to make her comfortable by asking for her consent before touching her.

She nodded rapidly, eyes squeezed shut.

Immediately you and your team started triaging. One resident began a neurological exam, another administered more IV medications, and you began examining her abdomen, feeling for broken ribs and inflamed tissue. Using your stethoscope, you checked her breath sounds and heart rate. Clear and steady.

After clearing her of any cardiac injuries, you grabbed some warmed blankets and wrapped them around her, taking care as to not press hard on any injuries. She exhaled in relief at the slightest bit of warmth.

You and another resident then worked on patching up the wounds on her arms, starting by cleansing the wounds and dressing them with gauze pads and bandage wrapping.

You moved on to join your neurological resident with their examination. Her pupils were reactive but one was slightly dilated more than the other. Her head was throbbing and she was experiencing tinnitus in one ear, and the other ear had a busted eardrum. Another concerning sign was her feeling of nausea. Due to being out in the field, there was no way to tell if it was due to a brain bleed or if it was from trauma of all of the injuries.

You shared a knowing look with your team; you all knew how fatal a brain bleed could become. You all knew how quickly a patient could deteriorate if a brain bleed isn’t diagnosed quick enough.

She needed to be moved to a warm, well stocked hospital with the means to diagnose and treat her.

You made a judgement call and reached for your radio attached to your scrub top, pressing the audio button to call Captain Price.

“Captain, this is Doc. I need an emergency med-evac, ASAP!” You shouted into your radio, making sure Price could hear you over the howling wind.

“Copy that, Doc. Exfil will be there shortly!”

Your team immediately started heading for the helipad, wheeling her gurney and bringing all of the same medical supplies she needed. You wrapped some more warmed blankets over her as you waited for the med-evac.

As the helicopter approached the helipad, the already blistering wind became even colder. Once the helicopter landed, your team lifted up her gurney and wheeled it into the helicopter.

You gathered your duffel bag of supplies and said goodbye to the rest your team before climbing into the helicopter. As you were clipping your seatbelt on, the pilot leaned his head back to introduce himself.

“You’re the 141’s surgeon, I presume? Nikolai at your service.” His voice was muffled by the whirring of the helicopter blades but you could still make it out.

“Yeah, Captain Price talks about you a lot! It’s nice to have a friend in high places.” You grinned as you reached to close the helicopter doors.

He threw a salute back to you before preparing to lift off the helipad. The helicopter began shaking from the turbulence, making you grip the armrest tighter.

A whimper from the injured woman brought you out of your conversation, making you look down at her. The shaking had jostled her awake and pulled a cry of pain deep from her chest when her body shifted even the slightest bit. The movement made the throbbing in her head worsen too.

You reached down to hold her hand in sympathy, looking down at the redhead with furrowed brows and a sad smile on your lips.

Her eyes opened after a moment, immediately finding yours. Something was different about her gaze but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Something was.. off.

Suddenly she sat up and yanked your arm to pull you closer, making your eyes widen at her newfound strength. Something glinted in your periphery before she whispered in your ear, “Мне жаль. Я бы хотел, чтобы мне не пришлось этого делать.” I am sorry. I wish I didn’t have to do this.

Before you could process what she said, let alone translate it, she twisted your left arm into an impossible angle until you heard a crack. You cried out in pain and shock. Your arm fell limp at your side and pain radiated from your shoulder down to the tips of your fingers.

That pain was nothing compared to having a knife plunged into your chest right between your rib cage and into your sternum.

Pain bloomed in your chest, and you let out a bloodcurdling scream. Your shaky breaths came out in huffs as you looked down to your stomach, seeing a knife sticking out of your abdomen. Blood was seeping through your gear, crimson quickly staining the white fabric.

The woman yanked the knife out with a twist causing you to wail in agony. Once the knife was pulled, there was nothing to stop you from bleeding out in the middle of that helicopter. With a shaky hand, you reached into your duffel bag and retrieve some gauze pads. You carefully stuffed them against the wound before zipping up your tactical jacket to hold the gauze in place.

Every inhale you took felt like you were getting stabbed all over again, and every exhale you took sounded like a labored wheeze.

Nikolai turned to look back at you after you screamed, letting out a string of curses into his comms. He leaned out of his seat to get a closer look at you, giving the woman the perfect shot to throw that same knife and hit him square in the chest.

Your eyes widened in panic as you realized that she had just killed Nikolai, the Captain's close friend and the pilot of the damn helicopter.

She jumped out of the gurney and grabbed a parachute that was laying next to you before putting it on. Once she secured it, she pulled you up from your seat by your arms and used rappelling rope to tie you to her.

Throughout all of this, blood loss was taking a toll on you. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and your head was spinning from dizziness. Your limbs felt heavy and sluggish, so when you tried to escape her hold, it was useless. Almost laughable.

She then slid open the helicopter door and wrapped her arms around you from behind. Black dots began flooding your vision as you started to feel faint.

Before you could process anything, she jumped out of the falling helicopter with you in her arms. Both of you were rapidly descending to the dark, choppy ocean. She reached around and pulled the pin from the parachute, releasing the canopy. Once the canopy got caught on the billowing wind, your descent to the water below slowed down.

You inhaled a deep breath and held it.

When the two of you hit the freezing water, the currents immediately pulled you under the surface of the waves. Your left arm was definitely dislocated and you wouldn’t be surprised if something was broken as well. You tried using your right arm to push yourself up towards the surface.

Your lungs burned with every second that you fought to hold your breath. Your chest felt crushed and your throat felt like it was wrapped in barbed wire. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, thump, thump, thump.

You thrashed, trying to find something, anything to find purchase on. Anything that could act as a float while you caught your breath. No luck.

With every passing moment, your willpower dwindled and you soon found yourself giving in to the urge to breathe. Just as you were about to take a breath, you felt yourself get pulled from the water.

The second your head came above the surface, you gasped for air. You took deep, desperate breaths until your lungs weren’t on fire anymore. Until you could feel the barbed wire wrapped around your throat loosen.

You looked up to see who was pulling you out of the water and to the shore, only to see the same red hair from the woman that attacked you in the helicopter. You didn’t have the energy to fight anymore, and you knew that you would probably bleed out soon anyways. You relented, letting your body go limp as she dragged you to land.

Blackness flooded your vision until your heavy eyelids finally dropped, giving into the heavy exhaustion.

The last thing you heard before losing consciousness was the woman speaking in quiet Russian. “цель успешно захвачена. мы прибудем в ближайшее время.” Target captured successfully. We will arrive shortly.

next chapter

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

So I saw that you're writing for Marvel now. I was thinking about jealousy. Specifically Bucky being ✨Jealous✨. Like the reader is just chatting away with someone about this guy she likes (bucky) but she knows he doesnt like her back (he soooo does) and (everyone else can see it too) so he gets hella jealous and finally just snaps. And kisses her like he is gonna die if he doesnt. The kind of kiss that makes you forget everything else in the world kiss.

Anywayyyyyyysssss

LYSM❤️ 

Author note: The "bad guy" of this story is named Luke so I'm sorry if you are Luke or you're friends with a Luke.

Triggers: Nothing? I think it's just fluff, a little of Bucky angst but nothing bad!

Bucky didn't mean to eavesdrop, he swears! All he wanted to do was get more tea!

But....when he heard your voice, your giggle, maybe just maybe he stayed hidden on purpose.

Who is making her giggle so much?? He wondered feeling emotions he hasn't felt in a while. Anger, confusion, insecure.

He overhears a few things that makes his ears ring.

"He's just so sweet you know? Like he is always trying to be there for me and he's so pretty! Like those eyes!" You playfully groan, "He's just perfect." Bucky stops listening after those few sentences passed your lips. Who is she talking about? Who is there for her, I thought I was that person... He goes back to his room with his empty mug and decides to spend the rest of the morning pouting in his room.

Bucky was dreading tonight.

Why the hell did he promise Sam that he would go to this party??? He knew you were going to be there, my god what if that "perfect" guy was going to be there with her? Is he going to have to deal with you be hanging all over this mystery guy? As his mind races with the idea of you being with someone else it begins to wander away with the idea of you. What will you being wearing? Will your hair be down or up? If it's down it usually means you were struggling more today than usual, does that "perfect" guy know that? "fucking doubt it" He grumbles as he walks out the door.

Sam is over this damn attitude Bucky has been giving out today. "What the hell is wrong with you tonight?" Sam asked fed up, "I know this isn't like your thing but you were improving on at least fixing your face when you're in a mood. I think if you glare at that guy anymore he will drop dead, go over and talk to her, get your girl or leave them be and fix your face." All he got in response was an eye roll.

Bucky had enough. Who the hell does this guy think he is! Your attention has been on this 'Luke' guy all night. Bucky hasn't been able to get you alone for at least a conversation for hours now and he was done. Finishing his drink he leaves the table and goes over to you, walking with a purpose. He doesn't notice the way your eyes light up and how a smile graces your face when you see him coming your way but he does notice how you seem to giggle and lean into Luke to whisper something to him and he certainly noticed Luke rubbing your arm before walking away.

"Bucky! I've been wanting to talk to you abo-" You get cut off by his lips pressing against yours with a passion. You gasps slightly, completely caught off guard. Sure people were saying Bucky was into you but you didn't really believe it. The two of you pull away slowly, wanting to stay in your own little world. Bucky smile softly, feeling a sense of relief from feeling you so close to him, but that was quickly overshadowed by a sense of fear washing over him. What if you weren't into him like that? What if he overstepped? What if he just ruined your relationship? What if Luke wanted to kick his ass now?...well I could totally take Luke.

"I-I um I know I didn't, I should've asked before kissing you but you don't understand how awful it has been watching you with that guy..." he trailed off feeling embarrassed by his previous actions. "I think I should probably just get going" he announced before he is stopped by your hands softly gracing his face. When he got the nerve to look back up at you it was his turn to gasp against your lips as you kiss him with a passion.

Who would've thought everyone was right when they said you guys were into each other. Bucky definitely wishes he listened sooner if it meant he got to feel your lips against his.

I hope you loved! I loved writing it! I'm finally getting back into the groove with writing so if you have any request I would love to try and write it for you! I do fluff, I'm trying my hand out in smut and angst too

[louwaffles]

Y/N: Buck?

Bucky: 

Y/N: Bucky?

Bucky: 

Y/N: James?

Bucky: God, I love you. Yes?

[preciousbarnes]

Promises | Part 1/3

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: When your parents are murdered in cold blood, you turn to the most feared man on the east coast for answers.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: Violence, discussion of murder, graphic scene, hurt/comfort (it was a murder yall, its not pretty but I dont think I described it too graphically), Google translate used for the Russian, mafia themes.

You found yourself in a dark and quiet bar tonight, the smell of top shelf liquor and cigar smoke prominent the second you walked through the door. You were anxious of course, but anyone with a shred of common sense would be nervous about meeting the one known as the Winter Soldier. At least, you hoped to talk to him tonight. You slowly approached the bar, remembering the code your father had once told you, in case you ever found yourself in this position.

“Я ищу зимнего солдата” you softly say to the bartender, earning a subtly surprised expression. I’m looking for the winter solder, you had said.

The bartender sets down the glass he was drying, and walks away and through a back door, which you’re certain leads to the the office of the man you seek. After a few moments, the bartender returns, followed by a tall, blonde man. He was strong, all muscle, his face serious but had an undertone of friendliness. You were unsure if it was genuine or not. You never can be sure about mobsters, despite how kindly your father had always spoken of the Winter Mob. Especially now, that your family had been wronged so brutally.

“What is your business here, miss? We don’t see many women around these places,” He says, voice smooth like velvet, carrying the whispers of a Brooklyn accent.

“Mr. Barnes knows my parents. They’re the owners of the bakery on the corner of Southeast Avenue. Something happened, and I need to speak with Mr. Barnes. I need answers.” You say, voice surprisingly stern even though your insides felt like they were shaking like a leaf.

Once you mention the establishment your parents ran, the tall blondes eyes light with understanding.

“Ah yes, your parents are very good people. We know them well. You must be their daughter. If it is truly something serious, please, follow me,” He says, stepping aside as he holds the door for you. You walk down a long and dimly lit corridor in silence, being led by the man. This is when you notice the weapons strapped to his hips. He is dressed in the mobs characteristic all black clothing they were known for, with two guns, one on each him, strapped to him. He also wore a shoulder holster, holding a smaller pistol and two knives. He looked lethal, but had surprised you with his professional but friendly manner.

As you get closer to the door at the end of the hall, you hear the soft tones of jazz coming from inside the office, a deep and quiet hum accompanying it. The unnamed blonde knocks softly, before opening the door.

The office is also dimly lit only by a small desk lap. There were stacks metal file cabinets around the room, holding what you were sure to be decades of files on everything mob related you could imagine. The Winter Mob was known for their organization and wide depth of knowledge. The floor was a deep, rich wood, the wallpaper elaborate and stunning. Everything about the office screamed luxury.

At the desk in the center of the room sat the most dangerous man on the East Coast. Bucky Barnes, head of the Winter Mob. He wore a fitted black suit, with a black dress shirt as well. His hair was short, and he had a slight stubble on his jaw. He was a handsome man, but for every bit he was handsome, you knew he was also deadly. You involuntarily shivered at the thought of all he is involved with, and now here you were, on a mission for information.

He looked up, eyes taking you in, trailing over your face, then down your body, and back up before he spoke.

“What can I do for you, doll? Bad boyfriend you want taken care of?” He asks in a deep voice, with a slight chuckle, already making assumptions about you. It wouldn’t have been the first time a young woman had come to him for help getting out of a relationship. Little did you know, he always helped in those situations, for no cost. He was raised to respect women, to cherish them. Whenever he could, he would help women get away from men who didn’t understand that.

“No, Mr. Barnes. You know my parents. You helped them with a loan, to keep their bakery afloat. The little one on the corner of Southeast Avenue,” You explain, hoping that he will know who you’re talking about. You know he works and helps a lot of different people, so it’s hard to say if he will specifically know your parents. All you can do is hope.

At the mention of the bakery, Bucky gives a small but honest smile.

“Yeah, I do. They make the best cream puffs on this side of the U.S, I swear. How are they?” He asks you, as he leans back a bit in his chair.

“They’re dead.” You say, voice breaking on the word ‘dead’. It was still a raw wound on your heart, and still difficult to say out loud. It still felt like you were in a bad dream.

His visibly shocks Bucky. His eyebrows furrow together and his jaw drops open slightly.

“What?” He asks, softly. Unknown to you, since you were mostly away in the big city working, Bucky really loved your parents. He thought they were good, honest people. He himself stopped in twice a week to visit, always ordering a small black coffee and two cream puffs. Your mother and father reminded him of his own, who he dearly missed. It was a shellshock to him to hear the two were gone so suddenly.

His blatant shock surprised you. You really thought he knew. How did he not?

“You mean, you didn’t know? I thought it was one of your goons who took them out?” You ask, confused.

Bucky and the blonde man who had led you in snorted in slight laughter at you calling his workers and family “goons”.

“Steve, will you grab the ledger book for her families loan for me?” Bucky asked, thanking the blonde who you now knew was Steve as he handed a thin bound book over to the boss.

“Doll, come here, I want to show you something,” The boss called to you, beckoning you over with a motion of his hand, as the other flipped through the pages of the small book, before coming to the end of the writing in the book.

“See here? Their debt was paid back in full to me, two years before the deadline I had set. They’ve had me paid off for a while now. They swore to me I’d see my money back, with interest, and they kept their promise to me in full. I’d have no reason to put a hit out on them, and I never would,” The mobster told you, a surprisingly soft and gentle tone contrasting his strong and tough exterior.

“I- I don’t understand. I thought surely, they must have been behind on the loan, or made you angry somehow or something. I just wanted some answers. Who- who killed my parents?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes. You thought you had originally had at least part of the answer, being who was responsible, and now you didn’t even have that.

“I don’t know, doll. But we’re going to figure it out,” He promises you, confusing you once again. This man was full of surprises to you.

“Why? Why do you want to help me?” You ask him. When you ask, he looks to you with a fire in his eyes.

“They were family. No one gets by with hurting family, doll,” His voice tells you, a dangerous edge to it.

The mafia boss quickly tells Steve to pull his car around for you both after learning you had gotten to their bar by bus. As he waited, he asked a bit about you. He wanted to know where you were staying, to which you told him the hotel. He was satisfied in knowing it was one he secretly owned. You told him about your job in New York, which you had taken a leave of absence from to come home to Brooklyn to figure this out. He nodded as you spoke, listening as you watched him grab his gun from his desk drawer, loading it before putting it in the holster strapped to his hip. He then grabbed his wallet, thick with cash you could clearly see making it bulge, shoving it in his pocket. You both turned to Steve when he returned, telling his boss the car was ready, before leading you both outside.  

You both climbed into the Escalade, Steve opening and closing your door for you. After you’re both buckled in, he begins to drive.

“Where did it happen?” He asks you, eyes focused on the road.

“Their home, off of 56th street, if you turn here, you’ll want to-“ You’re suddenly cut off.

“I know where it is, doll, your mother was sweet enough to invite me and the boys to dinner a couple times. A sweet woman, she was,” He told you, voice sounding like silk as he fondly remembered the meals and memories he shared with your parents. They had been good to him, and his closest family members; the boys who were part of his administration, the top level of the mob, the ones he worked with the most.

“I didn’t realize you all were that close?” You question, still surprised.

Bucky sends you a kind smile, not bothered by your confused and uncertain tone.

“Your parents were good people. Kind people. Nothing like the company we usually keep. They just needed help, and we were happy to help them. For our assistance, they made sure we knew how grateful they were, which isn’t something that happens for us often. Most are afraid of us, but for some reason they never were. We respected that.” He tells you, his own respect for your parents clear in his tone.

“They really meant something to you,” You conclude, still seeing a hint of sadness in his voice where he had to use past tense when talking about your parents now.

“They did. They treated me like their own, which I’m sure you know how good that is,” He tells you, voice soft again.

You smile sadly, nodding. Your parents had been so good to you, always your number one fan. To know they had been good to a mobster too, having hearts full enough to see past the tough exterior and treat Bucky’s family like their own, made your own heart swell. They really were good people. You were blessed to have come from them, but that made you want justice for them even more. They didn’t deserve the fate they had been given.

You both pulled up outside of their small home. It was modest, but charming all the same. A small brick two-story house with white shutters. There were small window boxes hanging off of each window, holding flower beds your mother had planted little wildflowers in, a beautiful bright contrast to the brick building. There was police tape surrounding the property, with an officer stationed outside on the porch.

Bucky puts the car in park, parking behind the police car out front. As he unbuckles, he turns to face you, surprised to see you also unbuckling.

“Doll, stay here, I don’t think you’ll want to see this,” He commands, voice not leaving room for argument. You’ve always been stubborn, so you argue anyway.

“I want to come with you, Mr. Barnes. I deserve to know. I want to see it too,” You plead with him.

He sighs, taking in your stern tone and resiliency clear on your face. He nods begrudgingly.

“First, call me Bucky. Second, okay. But, don’t say anything to the officer, and do not touch anything, okay?” He orders you, earning him a small smile and a nod from you.

You both get out of the car, walking up the sidewalk, only to be stopped by the officer.

Bucky quickly pulls out a wad of cash, silencing the officers demands for you both to leave. Pocketing the cash, he holds the police tape up for you and Bucky to crouch under to enter the property. You pull out your key to your family home, unlocking the door and moving to walk in the door until Bucky stops you.

“Let me go first doll,” He tells you, making you step back to let him enter first.

The first thing you notice is a pungent smell of iron hitting you both. You grimace. You hadn’t been told much by police, only that it had been quite a gruesome scene. The medical examiner had already informed you that you would have to have a closed casket service, and had advised you as gently as possible that it would be best if you didn’t see their bodies in the state they were now in. It hurt your heart. But all of that still didn’t prepare you for the scene you both saw in the living room.

Blood was everywhere. The floors, the walls, the couches, the curtains. It was obvious there had been a struggle from the trail of blood around the room. The room looked like a scene out of a horror film. In the center of the room laid a large and sharp knife, also covered in blood. In the light, gleamed an inscription you couldn’t make out. Bucky crouched down next to it for a closer look, and you couldn’t stop it anymore. Sobs wracked your body, vision blurring from your tears. You hug your midsection, wishing for comfort. It shockingly comes.

Bucky stands from his couched position in the middle of the room and strides back over to you, carefully wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, дорогая” He whispers in your ear, holding you close to him as your head comes to rest on his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist. Sweetheart is what he called you. His voice was also heavy with emotion, hating the scene in front of you both. It was a scene of two people who had fought hard, but nevertheless had a horrifying and painful death.

“I think I know who is responsible,” He informs you, after your tears slowly come to a stop, now just enjoying the comfort his strong arms brought you.

“You do? Who?” You timidly ask, fearful of hearing who could have done something so violent, so horrid and animalistic, to people as sweet and kind as your parents who wouldn’t hurt anyone for anything in the world.

“His name is Zemo,” His voice darkly tells you, taking your hand and leading you out of the house and back to the Escalade.

Part 2: Coming Soon

[thestarkinternship]

Masterlist

Masterlist of all my writing!

One Shots:

Mine (Smut)

Gorgeous (Smut)

Crossing the Line (Smut)

Under the Table (Smut)

10 Minutes (Smut)

Whenever, Wherever (Angst)

Drabble:

On Your Knees (Smut)

Touchy (Fluff)

If Bucky Could Get Drunk (Fluff)

The Red Henley (Fluff)

Ghost of You (Angst)

[zombiiegrr]

Brooklyn Baby. (๑>◡<๑)

a dbf! bucky x afab! reader.

word count : 3130

honestly everything is the same but Bucky is like healed happy and he more like amazing soldier then winter solder lol and jazz thanos didn’t happen causes it’s not marvel it’s more like real army idk with Tony still bring a billionaire + vision being ‘normal’ like wandavison and wanda acting like that aswell :)

cw: y/n is down so bad, cocky!bucky, slightly toxic! bucky not at first, age gaps (y/n is 21 while bucky is 38), cursing, smut. jealously, secret relationship. mentions of skin tone doesn’t exist here. daddy issues, slight mommy issues idk characters pick up the reader theyre all STRONG ass men so dont think the reader is supposed to be petite or anything!! ALSO there’s mention of recent readers 21 birthday ok I’m a june 3 gemini so… idk… ur birthday but it’s technically going to be hot in the fanfic so summer but I won’t say birthdates

Your mother had you at 17 leading to your father going into the military at 18 leaving you and your mother, fighting for his country meeting friends turning into family including bucky

i've always thought when someone watches someone growup then bangs them is kinda sooooo odd.. so bucky was never really around the reader when she was a kid he was on duty and when he was around the reader was way to nervous to even be downstairs when he was there so its not like that!!!!!!

music i listened to while writing. some song fit ill tell u to play them

new chapter

this is a series! comment to be added to the tag list

@aemondmylove @arilevinsonhavemybabies @masturbucky @alwayshungryforramen @yvonneeeee

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Now landing in New York! enjoy your holiday or welcome home!” The flight attendant says waking you up. You stood gain the feeling back in your legs, got your suitcase from above you wait for the people in front of you to get their items.

Your phone finally gained service flooding in texts from your roommate asking if you got on the flight safe. a bit from your mother telling you to make your dad get you things and more family telling you to have fun and say hi to your father for them. after reading most you finally got to your father's texts telling you his friends were coming to the airport to get you and to be “nice to them”

Just great. You loved your dads' friends the only thing was you had a crush on about every one of them realizing how attractive they are when you hit puberty making you shy around them leading to them thinking you dislike them. It had been 8 years since you left to California to live with your mother for school/the social life (Californian here!) Visiting during summers, Christmas, Thanksgivings and or your father's birthday. After 18 you choose spending summers and most holidays with your father and mother sometimes coming with.

Your fathers' main friends. Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, San Wilson, Thor Odinson, Clint Barton, James Rhodes. James “Bucky” Barnes, & Scott Lang. Your father had a lot of friends from all over and They were all handsome, but Bucky was breathtaking. You hadn’t seen him in 8 years well you seen him but hadn't even had a full convo you would avoid him like the plague being so embarrassed of the things you talked about with your friends when they pointed him out in family vacation photos.

You finally fully got off the plane moving quicky not wanting to be late and make them wait outside as you arrive outside blinded by the brightness of the sun as you wait for your eyes to adjust. As you finally get the hang of the brightness you hear some walking fast behind you “NO WAY SAME AIRPORT!?” Scott says as he walks over holding cassies hand as she waves aggressively with her other hand you smile wide knowing Scott lived above you in California , San Francisco. So it made sense landing in the same airport.

A car horn makes you all look over quickly seeing an Chrysler 300 with a metal arm out the window meeting the glasses of a guy smirking at you and before you could react someone busts open the back door making your face light up realizing who it was.

“DOUNTTTTT!!!!!” Clint screamed getting looks from other people there as you ran to him aswell

“HAWKEYE!!!” Clint had earned the name hawkeye when he had been the only one approved to use a bow and arrow with guns on the field and according to your dad he moved and had the eyes of a hawk giving him the nickname “Hawkeye” which you loved as a child still using now when he called to check on you helping you during fails and letting you stay with his family during fights with your mom.

"Geez you look all different kid had to make sure it was you." Clint says as he hugged you tightly giving you a kiss on the forehead while taking your suitcase in the other arm.

"Is that really you superstar you got taller or is something else different?" A kind smile meets your eyes as Sam reaches over the driver's seat "Well, I'm 21 now! last time you seen me I was like what 17?" Clint nods his head as he puts your suitcase in the back of the car.

“WHATS UP TINY” Sam says as he gets out the car to run and hug Cassie earning a giggle from Cassie as he lifts her up “oh you brought your father” sam jokes as he puts her down “Yeah ok Sam it’s great to see you to” Scott laughs as he hugs him and Clint

"Hello ladybug" Bucky says removing his glasses. he called you ladybug when he came home from duty to you welcoming him home with your dad in a ladybug outfit and when you dyed your hair red and black and always wore black and white. You liked ladybugs and liked that the few times you spoken; he had called you one.

"James-" he laughed slightly at your formality reminding you that bucky was fine making your stomach fluttery at the eye contact "Almost drove past you bug. You look beautiful you father talks about you like you're still a kid hiding from us on the stairs. But then I seen Scott your a lifesaver Scott " Bucky eyes you making you feel small under his gaze.

"Woah lay off the charm handsome" Scott laughs out loud not causing Bucky to break eye contact just smirk a bit more.

You get in the car begging bucky to drive you home fast He laughs and jokes about how insane Californians are with driving. OfCourse the two in the car start agreeing and shit talking Californians. You laugh seeing as you were literally in NEW YORK and so were they. and in an argument between the worst driving between New York and Cali? New York takes the cake or at least in your opinion.

you see scott putting his stuff in the back and you asking if Scott and Cassie were getting a ride then you got confirmation that Scott was invited by your father and you would be going to the same place!

the car ride was a bit quiet besides humming from you or clint. Many questions from Cassie before she passed out knocked out after 5 minutes. Bucky did ask about school, housing, and asked how your mom was doing. You answered all happily just happy to talk to anyone other then your roommate or your mom. Sam starts to ask the ‘good’ questions asking if you had had a drink yet since you had (recently) turned 21 extremely quietly looking over at Cassie You answered half ass knowing you truthfully had only had a few cocktails and maybe a beer while at a party only enough to get tipsy nothing getting you drunk.

You Start to pull up to the house watching your father standing outside with Tony talking about something noticing us pulling in.

“OH YOUR HOME” you father says LOUDLY gaining a very blank stare from Tony covering his ear rolling his eyes. He parks and you run out to hug your father being too broke to see him but not wanting to ask others to pay for a ticket you hugged him for a while before tony ask how long it’s been since you had seen each other.

“6 Months. Longest time since I was on duty.” You father answers gaining a frown from you. “College payment. I went broke and tried working overtime but my car-“your father cut you off with another hug reminding you that you’re here now daddy issue go crazy.

It had taken a while to repair the relationship with your father dealing with the damage of what he did and how his cheating broke up your family and how he ‘parented you’ due to his own issues and ‘shell shock’ from the years at service you could recognize he was trying so hard to change and heal.

“not to ruin the moment but I have a surprise or well we have a surprise let’s go inside” you dad says as you watch Clint grab your bag so you start walking in with your dad.

Steve, and Rhodes were talking in the kitchen looking over and noticing you. “Hell kid you sure grew up” Steve walks over giving you a big hug seen as those are common today sorry if you hate hugs Rhodes behind also giving you a hug.

“Ok give me the floor please lady’s and gentlemen. I and Darren have decided to force all of you to go on a family trip with us and before any of you say shit like ‘work’ or ‘kids’ or whatever I will slap you i cleared everything for you guys cause I’m me. But yeah kids are coming with causes it a damn huge lake house” Tony says as he pulls his laptop out to pull up the lake house Information.

“We and I mean WE ALL will be staying at Twin Oaks At The Chapin Estate for the summer because I own that place and it sits there collecting dust. HEY, Clint your kids they will have a room with bunk beds and Scott you okay with Cassie bunking them and Morgan?” Scott said it was perfectly fine with him if It was okay with Cassie who was nodding. Tony continued “it’s me and pepper of course Darren already claimed his room Nat and banner are gonna visit but not stay, Vision, Wanda, their kids and Thor will be staying in a place that they decided to rent like a seven-minute walk away from away from us so that’s cool. So that’s three more rooms any takers?

Everyone was kind of collecting information. You were overjoyed about going out to the lake and the family restaurants in that area. Sam said that he was fine with a couch and really didn’t need a room which a few people without rooms started to agree with.

As everyone started talking about rooms and stays and everything else your mind starts to wander to Bucky and the thought you and him staying in the same place overnight although you did feel a bit silly getting so excited over that. You didn’t even realize he was sitting right in front of you at the table smiling at you making you feel warm you stupidly thought if he could hear your thoughts. You thought about asking your dad to put you both in the same room cringing at the look your father would give you.

“hey ladybug” bucky whispers making you look at him making eye contact for the first time in a bit. “Hm?” You ask trying not to express any nervousness especially not around everyone else and especially not in front of him. “excited? I haven’t been on a trip in forever even if we’re staying in New York that place is expensive knowing Tony” you agreed saying you were excited just nervous about getting bored or homesick he laughed a bit and reminded you he won’t let you get bored locking eye contact feeling his knee slightly hit yours before he his smirk slightly grew.

“Okay final decision. Me and pepper, Clint and Laura, The kids, Darren, y/n, Rhodes, and Steve. And for some reason the rest of you prefer the couches? I dont know but I don’t care it’s figured out. Also shit I told the kids I’m sponsoring that he can bring his friends out to the lake and the pool and the gym and all that they aren’t staying but heads up.”

“Parker?” Darren asks. Tony nodded his head as he closed his computer. Everyone looked happy and it make you happy. Bucky would be using a couch which seemed like something he would do but being honest he’ll probably share a room with Steve falling asleep on the couch in Steve’s room of choice. You were fine with him sneaking in your room though

When the thought came to your head your looked at him right away giggling and squeezing your legs together like a teenager everyone looked at your confused and you father asked what was so funny backed up by bucky wondering as-well you laughed again apologizing and changing the subject saying you would be going shopping to pack for the trip backed up by Scott asking if you would be so kind to pick up a bathing suit for Cassie which you agreed

“Do you even remember where everything is?” Bucky teased. Why was he being so flirty? Were you being delusional?? Were you misinterpreting everything? Was he flirting or just hot and talking .

“yeah. Wanna go with just incase I forgot?” Smoothhhh you thought to yourself begging that no one else will invite themselves attempting to keep his invitation quiet.

“Don’t mind if I do. I have the ugliest swim trunks so I have to get new ones hun” he replied getting up saying he would get his keys

Everyone else said it would be smart to go Home and pack or something all deciding to meet up here again the next morning at 7am to start the drive over seeing as it would take a few hours did my research frfr

about 30 minutes later! (>ω^)

“sooo adult Life? How do you like it? I asked this before but in a car full of people and a kid so is it the same answer?” Bucky asked as walked around the clothing store you laughed knowing you did change your answer cause of the people in the car

“It’s shit. My mom forgets I’m a adult and cussed me out because i went to “way to many parties in one week” and posted “things” when I knew people from church view my story so she took my car which caused me to spend everything on a new one which is why I couldn’t pay to come out here” you could feel the words pouring out of you and Bucky was an amazing listener he followed every word you spoke feeling and reading you emotions and you could tell that made your heart pound.

“Man im sorry kid. Why didn’t you reach out? Dumb question I know it can be hard but your ‘uncle’ is a billionaire he would have happily got you a ticket to visit and your dad missed you like crazy he would have definitely helped.”

you frowned again. “oh no ladybug I didn’t mean like you did something wrong I’m just saying we’re here for you. We care and if you ever need to come out here for anything we will happily help. excuse me I’m not the best with words”

“you’re great. thank you bucky.” you said as you hugged his arm he pulled you away a bit which made you confused but then he gave you a full hug in the middle of the store which made you laugh in embarrassment, but you wouldn’t let him go. He smelt so good and covered so much of you he held on to you so tightly and easy it make you shake.

“Woah you're shaking to hard of a hug. Sorry kid” you held on before he could let go and reassured him that you were fine and just a bit touch starved, he let out an attractive laugh whispering take all the time you need. You could feel the change in your panties as you grew wetter in his hold as he whispered asking If you were alright. Making you hold him tighting nodding you head.

You finally let go shaking embarrassed that you were this into a hug for crying out loud. You locked eye contact he was smirkingly as usual looking down at your basket asking if you got everything you needed you nodded asking if he did Aswell seeing as he had nothing.

“Oh no sweetheart I just wanted a excuse to come with” you genuinely felt like you had a flood in your panties you felt so shameless for getting so wet over that over everything he did or said you nodded and smiled at him walking away before you did something stupid.

While in line Bucky was clearly eyeing your basket. The underwear the bikini THE everything or maybe he was just looking over? Unless he asked “isn't that a bit small?” pointing at the bikini “your daddy isn't gonna like that”

“I don’t care what daddy thinks or says I want the bikini”

for once Bucky looked surprised or well for a few seconds before he had a different look on his face he looked so good like he liked whatever I said I didn’t want to jump to conclusions but you’re sure it had something with saying daddy.

“Move in line y/n” once again whispering in your ear you did once again feeling that pulse in your panties. If he whispered in your ear one more time you were gonna-

“You total is $226.88 cash credit? Debit? Or Apple Pay” The cashier snapped you out of it with that total as you were so confused how you got that much stuff for a 1-and-a-half-month trip. Before you could think Bucky puts his Card in being way to buff for you to cross over and cancel you just stood there saying nonooooooooo i GOT it when you definitely didn’t have it but Bucky did. Tony slipped him a card

He grabbed your bags grabbing your hand aswell leading you out saying let’s go.

“Bucky that was a lot of money.” He ignores you as you both get back into the car as you keep repeating that he didn’t need to and that you needed to look at everything to see if it was even worth it and he still wasnt repling until he did.

“Y/n i GOT it. Please kid don’t worry about me we’re gonna have so much fun and spend a lot of time together if thats alright with you and if you would stop stressing about some money right now we could start having fun right sweetheart? Thank you.” He said calmly just sternly making me sit back into lt seat

“Atta girl thank you” you almost whimpered outloud he was very leading and it made you weak he probably knew so much things you don’t you want him to teach you

“hellllllllo you’re Home ladybug” you look around seeing that youre in your driveway and start to freak out nervous to ask for his number. “Thank you so much. Is there anyway we could talk? Instagram? Number? Email? Sorry that’s silly.“ you were mixing all of your words up again. he nodded and took his phone out handing his phone to you as you put you phone number in you felt his eyes on you.

“Thank you i was going to ask someone for you number but easy if you did First” you GOT nervous at THE idea that he fought of you.

“good night Bucky don’t forget tomorrow” You said as you got your bags and got out the card.

“Oh i wouldn’t miss it for the world ladybug” he said as he watching you making sure you got into the house safely

until next time sweetheart.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

I hope you guys liked this!!! took so long im so sorry plz plz let me know how you guy liked it also Lmk for tag list this is a series.

[sebastiansluts]

Request: both bucky and the winter soldier make you lick their sweaty bodies( balls,armpits,pecs,feet) and force you to drink their piss

this one is more thots written out than a full on fic

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Winter Solder x Reader; dub/non-con; sweat kink, body worship- balls, armpits, pecs, feet; piss kink- piss drinking,

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

Okay but being held down by the winter soldier while bucky is holding your head into his pecs? Bucky is straddling your hips, his legs holding yours down effortlessly, his hands on his pecs, framing them and pushing them together around your head, smothering you. Your hands were held down by the impossible grip of the winter soldier. He held you immobile as you licked desperately at bucky’s chest. 

Bucky finally letting you breathe, but only for a moment before he’s got you buried in his armpit, smelling his sweat and breathing in his stink as you licked at him. Until the winter soldier gets impatient, and he shoves bucky aside, dragging his balls over your face, teabagging you as you scrambled to reach for something, anything, finding bucky’s hands. He grips yours hands tightly keeping you where he wants you, letting the soldier do what he wants. The soldier sits back and pushes his feet into your face, dragging the soles of them over your tongue, forcing you to lick in between his toes, pressing down on your tongue with his big toe. 

Both of them kneeling on your arms, up by your head, not letting you up, or control anything. They both grip their dicks, the soldier using his metal hand to reach down and grab your chin, forcing your mouth open. They put the tips of their dicks in your mouth and being pissing, your mouth filling until you swallow, and swallow and swallow, over and over again, bucky and the winter soldier are pissing, forcing you to drink it all.

[buckysugar]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐝’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

peter befriends a lonely little girl who becomes the light of the avengers' life; especially the one with the metal arm — this is their story.

disclaimers: agegap!au (reader is in college), daddy!bucky x little!reader, agere.

♡︎ baby's bad dream reader has a bad dream and struggles to maintain a balance between her big self and her little self. it doesn't help that all she wants is bucky, the man she wishes to be her daddy.

[nekoannie-chan]

Week 48 Reblog Masterlist

Welcome to Week 48 2023 or Week 204, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2023 here.

♥ You can check my November reblog masterlist 2023 here.

♥ You can check my December reblog masterlist 2023 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ

🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ

❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ

💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 48 2023:

Kinktober day 17 (Stucky X Reader) by @lillian-gallows ❤️

Fic (Brock Rumlow X Reader, Winter Solder X Reader) by @itwasthereaminuteago🖤❤️

Say it back (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @fandoms-writings 💙

Learn my lesson (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @cockslutpadalecki ❤️

Kinktober day 18 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @lilacliquors ❤️

Halloween is the perfect time for tricks—and treats (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @witchywithwhiskey 🖤❤️

Dating pre-serum Steve Rogers would include (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms💚

This love part 3 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @lives-in-midgard💚

Seven minutes part II (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @anika-ann❤️

Inside her fantasy part I (Ransom Drysdale X Reader) by @georgiapeach30513 💚❤️

An old life (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @astyrial💚

Fic (Stucky X Reader) by @madeforstarker💚

Forbidden fruit (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sebastianstanisahotmf ❤️

Dysfunction or wrong direction (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @l1tw1ck ❤️

Drean a little dream of me part 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @paperweight91💙

Happy ending (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @imtryingbuck💙

Real life tasks with Ransom Drysdale (Ransom Drysdale X Reader) by @wiypt-writes ❤️

As sweet as cake 6.1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sunvmars 💚❤️

Dark nights (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @kinanabinks 🖤❤️

We’ll always protect you (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @nicoline1998enilocin 💙

Kinktober day 18 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @gatorbites-imagines❤️

Morning glory (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @lavykitty❤️

If I could give you the moon (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sunvmars 💙❤️

Promises left behind part 2 (Sirius Black X Reader) by @moim0i 💚💙

All I want for Christmas is you (Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @there-goes-thefighter 💚

My knight in white (Marc Spector X Reader) by @flightlessangelwings ❤️

Steve fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @biteofcherry❤️

Back and forth prologue: flash forward (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @anika-ann 💚💙

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Bucky forcing you to take a day off after he finds out you're overworked and you're aching from working

Authors note: I swear someone requested this! I don't remember who though 😭Anyways I hope you enjoy! I love writing for Bucky so please send in request!!

Bucky knew you were a very independent person, it's one of the many things he loves about you, but he is hating that part of you right now. He can tell you're tired, exhausted even and not only is it physically exhausted but it's emotionally and mentally too. Even though it is obvious you need a break you are refusing to miss a day of work. He's tried everything but you just won't allow yourself to relax.

Today was his final straw though. You came home last night with a limp, and when he asked what happened you tried to brush it off knowing he'd be concerned when he finds out you got hurt at work. "I'm fine Buck" he scoffs "doll you're clearly hurt please tell me what happened." You sigh and begin explain to him that it was a simple accident at work today.

After you're done explaining Bucky sighs "Okay well you're taking the day off tomorrow so you can rest and your body can relax and I will not take no for an answer Doll. If you don't call off I will for you." You nod knowing he means business.

The next morning you wake up naturally, no alarm clock goes off, the sun didn't shine in your eyes, it was amazing until you saw it was passed noon. You freaked out thinking you overslept until you remember Bucky had you call off for the day. You relax and get out of bed to make food and as soon as you get out of bed, Bucky comes into the room with food and nothing but his boxers on. "Get back into bed doll what are you doing out of bed anyway?" He tsks as he sits the plates on the nightstand.

You sit up to take a sneak peek at what he made and you nearly tear up when you see he made your favorite. "Buck you really don't have to do all this I'm okay" He just shakes his head in disagreement. "You are taking a day off, I am a servant for you today. Whatever you want I'll go get for you and whatever you want to do we will do" He reassures you by kissing your head and handing you the remote before sitting in bed next to you. "So what are we watching?" he asks as he begins to eat. As you turn on a movie you could feel yourself truly relax for the first time in a long time.

[missbeautyandherbeast]

Ways to My Heart

Donatello X Reader

Summary: Request: Originally based on “Ways to Break My Heart” by Ed Sheeran but it got healthier

A/n: Apparently I appear every Christmas and rewrite an old prompt. And now that I'm older and healthier, it's kinda fun. And y'all were right, we're not about to be a rebound. So, for my dear @witchancunin, I hope you don't mind that it's been four years.

Autumn was settling in. With the wave after wave of rain that we had, there were little colors to the dying trees. Some scientific reason about fungi and decay. Donnie had explained it, but I barely payed attention. 

Not that I wasn’t paying attention to him: I was too focused. We were working on a new lego set and I had one to many to drink to pit the small plastic pieces together so he took over and his fingers though larger than mine, were so nimble and they pursued the legos with ease as he assembled a BD-1 droid: my present to him after we finished The Fallen Order together. 

The thought of us playing made me smile. I played through most of the game, getting my Star Wars fix, but when it became too difficult, I’d get so frustrated and Donnie would laugh and take the controller from me and defeat whatever stood in my way. I loved and hated him for it. 

But that didn’t change the fact that New York was wet and colorless.

I took the hidden alley, now slick with today’s chilled rain, and followed the path down to his home and the warmth it offered. And when winter came and I missed the heat of my hometown—which was safe and sound in the middle of Georgia—four brothers did their best to keep me temperate: Mikey was all hugs; Raphael actually knitted me a sweater last winter (yes it was purple, no I don’t want to talk about it); Leo let me invade his space now and again if he was meditating; and Donnie… well there was no place warmer than his lab. Between the tech and the constant blush he knew how to get on my face and down my neck… it was where I spent most of my time. 

“Still no color,” I sighed, shrugging off my coat and hanging it in my usual spot by his door. 

“I told you there wouldn’t bet be,” His eyes flashed to mine before returning to his project. 

“A girl can dream,” A smile touched my lips as I wandered over to see what he was working on. 

In front of him was a circuit board and he was soldering wires to the metal with such precision. I left him to it, having no idea the plans in his head of creation, and I found my book on one of his other work stations. Picking it up, I resumed reading—a romance novel I let myself indulge in now and again when I was over stressed. This one was about chess and it was set in Jersey, which I found hysterical. 

I must have made a sound, or a face, or some sort of tell because I heard his voice pulling me from the fictional world. 

“What did Nolan do now?” Donnie asked, pushing back from his desk and over to where I was curled up. 

“Not Nolan,” the story’s main guy. “It’s Oz. He’s definitely telling off Mallory right now,” 

“Oooo what did she do?” I had his full attention. And it wasn’t the first time. He insisted that every time I read a book I tell him about it, despite the many insistings that he read them himself. 

“I like your perspective,” He told me once. “Books are dull, dry, but you bring them alive,” 

So, I launched into the tale, weaving the complexities of the plot with my words and gestures, the poor book being waved around. And all the while his eyes stayed on mine, and he gave the softest smile that belonged to only me. 

He always kept me warm. 

When it go late enough, and we had joined his family in having pizza and watching tv (we were currently going through the newer She-Ra on Netflix), I had to trek back out into the cold. 

“Let me take you home,” Donnie piped up, seeing me get my coat and boots. 

“I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” I rolled my eyes. 

“I know,” He said with such certainty. “Let me do it anyway.” There was that warmth again. 

“Okay,” 

Raph gave me a knowing look but I ignored him. 

And like greeting an old friend, we had our routine. Donnie would stay, and we’d curl up on my couch and watch old reruns of Doctor Who until we were both asleep in the comfort of my apartment. 

And it was warm. 

……………………………….

Then April came. 

And God it was so nice to have a friend who was in on the secret. We explored New York together, had movie nights, and so many girl talks that may have involved some alcohol. 

But it meant I had to watch Donnie fall head over heels for her—from my usual spot in his lab, as he showed her all of his projects, chattering happily. 

I told myself it didn’t bother me. And it didn’t. 

Sorta. 

Maybe? 

Shut up. 

Hiding it from Donnie was easy. Hiding it from the rest of his family? Not so much. 

“You okay kid?” Raph asked, standing beside me as Donnie explained the entire Shell-Razer to April. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” My voice was low. 

“Because my brother’s an ass,” 

I laughed humorlessly. “We weren’t together Raph.” A shrug fell from my shoulders as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to fight off the lingering chill. “It’s fine. I’m—fine.” 

It was a few weeks later that I came to the lair; always having an excuse to not accompany April. I could see it in her eyes that she knew something was up, but she didn’t call me out on it—yet. 

“Miss Y/n,” Splinter stopped me as I entered. 

“Master Splinter,” I gave a small head nod. 

“Let’s talk child,” His words caught me off guard. 

“Um. Okay,” I followed him to the meditation room that was lit softly with sparse candles. 

“You have not been coming around as often.” It was a statement. Not a question. 

“Yeah,” I knew no excuse would work on the old master, and the father of four boys. 

“Is everything alright?” He rose an eyebrow and I gave a feeble lie: 

“Yeah,” 

He nodded. “Let’s try that again. Everything is not alright.” 

Tears glossed my vision and the familiar pain flooded my chest like ice. I tilted my chin back, holding my head high. 

“Master, there’s nothing I can do.” I opened my mouth to continue trying to find the courage. “I care deeply for him,” My eyes trained on a candle flame. “But I never told him and… that’s my consequence to live with,” 

“I see,” His wise voice held so much understanding that it washed over me. “And because of that choice, you do not come around as often?” 

“It hurts less,” That was the simple fact. “I don’t have to watch him…” 

“Chase after April?” Splinter filled in knowing. 

“Yeah.” 

He nodded. “Perhaps you and April should talk,” 

“Look, I don’t—“ 

“Y/n,” He cut me off and I pursed my lips. “April is your best friend, and I have a feeling she wants to help you,” 

“I know,” He was right, and maybe hearing git gave me the courage to say something after all. A smile touched my lips. “Thanks Sensei.” 

“I care about my family,” He said. “And that includes my daughters,” 

Tears stung my eyes again as he gave me a hug. 

“Thank you,” 

“Of course, child,” 

……………………………………….

April and I did sit down and talk. More of she called me out on moping and avoiding the subject. So, we sat on our fire escape and talked. About everything. 

She knew when she first got there that there was something going on between Donnie and me. And though she loved the brothers, she didn’t like Donnie that way. She also knew that was the reason I was avoiding going to the lair. 

“I’m sorry,” She said. 

“For what?” I almost laughed. 

“Because, before I came, there would have been no doubt that you and Donnie would be together by now,” 

“Hey I wouldn’t trade you for anything,” I smiled. “And if… if Donnie wants to be… whatever the heck this is, I can handle it.” 

“But you shouldn’t have to,” April said. “I want you to be happy Y/n. And I want you back at the lair. I… I just want you to have your life back,” 

“It wouldn’t be as fun without you.” 

“I know,” She laughed. “But I am going to talk to Donnie,” She must have seen the horror on my face. “Not about you! God no! But I’m gonna tell him that I don’t feel that way about him, and hopefully he gets the message,” 

I nodded. “Thanks April,” 

When April had told me that Donnie took their talk semi-well, I still gave it a few weeks before I headed to the lair, not wanting to have to pick up the aftermath of his shattered fantasy. 

With end of Spring, I had my family back. 

There was a cool distance between Donnie and I that was slowly thawing until I was back in his lab reading and he was fidgeting with his tools. It took another week for him to ask me about my book. And another week for him to take me home. And a few more days for his smile to be back. And a couple more for mine to stay. I wrestled with what had happened in the winter and spring, trying to look for the other shoe to drop. 

But when the six of us played a board game, or watched movies or even had dinner, all that was felt was camaraderie. Donnie didn’t notice April anymore and he backed down. Raph kept a careful eye just like I did. When he caught my stare, Raph rose an eyebrow at me, glancing to Donnie. I shrugged and smiled. 

I didn’t know. 

And I think that was okay. 

I think I was okay.

With summer, meant my birthday. June 14th. The boys and April insisted on throwing a big party for me in the lair with cake and presents and music and dancing. I hadn’t laughed so much in months. 

Donnie offered to walk me home, like always. Like old times. Like now. 

We were standing on my roof, all I had to do was climb down the fire escape to the apartment April and I shared. 

“Happy birthday,” His smile was back, and God I had missed it. All of the careful walls I had built around myself came crashing down at the simple gesture. 

“Thanks Donnie,” 

And in the starlight of the roof, alone with the city alive beneath us, he leaned in and his lips were on mine. A stolen kiss that had me wrecked. 

Donnie pulled away, wonder in my eyes, and confusion in his. 

“I—I’m sorry,” He stammered out, his brows pulling together. 

“It’s… it’s okay,” I managed a smile. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, backing away. “That… I didn’t mean—it was a mistake,” He choked out. 

My body jerked back with the rejection that crashed over it. 

“What?” My voice was as cold as ice. 

“I—I don’t know why I did that.”

“Oh, okay,” I managed.

He was gone like a shadow in the night and I stood there frozen. 

…………………………………

I must have been up there for too long, because April came up to find me. 

“Hey are you okay?” Her voice was concerned. 

“Um,” Was all I could manage. 

“What happened? Donnie came back and he’s not talking. He’s barricaded himself in his lab.” 

“Um.” I said again. “He… he kissed me.” 

“Oh my God that’s amazing!” April celebrated, but paused when she saw the dread in my eyes. “Then what happened?” 

“He. Um. Said it was a mistake.” I choked out. 

“I—I’m—I’m actually going to kill him,” April said. “He said that? To you!? After kissing you!?” She was outraged, and maybe I should have been too, but it was like my entire body had gone into a comatose. She took my hands into hers. I met her eyes. Tears finally thawed and started to fall. 

“Oh, honey come here,” She pulled me into a hug and I started crying. Every tear I had denied finally rushed forward, and soon I was sobbing on that roof. 

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked her, miserable. We had made it back to the flat, and we were curled up on my bed. 

“No, honey, you didn’t.” April soothed, petting my hair. 

The next morning he was standing in my living room. The two of us. Standing like we had not twenty four hours ago. But the morning was different. Now I couldn’t bare to be near him. It was only because April said I should at least get closure this time that I was even out here.

I stared at him, my lips pursed, waiting for him to say something. 

“I’m sorry,” He blurted out. “That—what I said, it wasn’t what I meant.” He started pacing anxiously. “Look, I know that I hurt you with that whole April thing, and I haven’t apologized for that and I really should and I want to!” His words began tumbling together in his nervousness. “And I wanted to do that before I ever did anything else, and God definitely before kissing you, but you were there so close on that roof and you were just beautiful, and I—I’m so sorry,” 

I blinked. My face when through a series of expressions before settling on shocked confusion. 

“I know!” Donnie insisted. “God, I know and I’m so sorry Y/n. Especially for not explaining last night. But I was panicking and—“ He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for chasing after April like I did. I genuinely thought that you’d never want me like that. And that was a dick thing for me to do. And I’m sorry for hurting you for so long.” He smiled a bit. “And I’m sorry for crossing your boundaries last night. And for not sticking around and explaining. Also a dick move on my part. So… yeah,” He nodded, not daring to meet my eyes. 

“Um. Okay,” I managed. “Uh… wow.” 

“I know it’s a lot. I’m sorry,” He said. 

“You can stop apologizing Donnie,” I gave a small laugh. “That’s um… alright. Thanks? I think?” 

“Are you mad?” His eyes met mine. “I don’t know…” I confessed. “Um I think I need a minute. Or two,” 

“Right! Yeah! Of course! Take as much time as you need!” He said backing away. “Um—I’m gonna go and give you space, but you can come over or call or anything anytime—we are still having game night tonight, so if you want to come—not that you have to!” He was an anxious mess again. 

I placed my hand on his arm to stop him. “Thank you,” I smiled pointedly. 

“Right, um… I’ll just be off then,” He nodded, backing away. “Bye.” 

“Bye?” I laughed. And like that he was gone again. “Hey April?” I called, knowing she heard all of that. 

She emerged from her room. 

“You heard all of that right?” I clarified. 

“Every word,” She was grinning. 

“Why does it all feel so weird?” I asked. “Like really weird.”

“Because that my dear,” April said. “Was emotional maturity.” 

“Is that what that looks like?” 

“For the most part,” April nodded. “So, what are you feeling?”  

“That, it all makes sense? And I want to believe him? And that its still really weird,” 

“All fair feelings,” April said. 

The hours ticked by until game night at the lair. April and I had gone back and forth about going or not. And when it came time to it… I was putting on my sneakers and grabbing my bag. 

I walked into the lair and I felt every stare on me. I was only looking for one gaze though. 

“Hey,” He said, getting up, looking genuinely surprised that I was there. 

“Hey.��� I smiled. “Can we talk?” 

Tags: @brightlotusmoon@boatloadsofheart@legandarybeauty@crazywritingbug@bitch-kms@ravn-87@just-a-casual-fangirl-011@unicornjoos @stuckoutsideofthebox@ilikestuffproductions@whygz@coffee-addicti@sugarspooks15@leslieebee@serperiorkb@blossom-skies@fantastical-67impala-fangirl@coresan@big-banging-red@iceprincess2019@raphaeladdict@thirstyforvenom @merindagriese@depressedemo-152@bengewatch@corabmarie@bitemebro522@tmnt-queen@muleka-loka@violet-sky-96 @curadopordeus@artemismohr18​ @thewhisperpen @xjupitermoonsx@bisexualbumblebeesstuf f @merindagriese @oceans-daughter-3​ @dixonreedusfangirlforever@shanidenise@thegayestfish441@lovelyyroseee@yourlieberhoe@dolphincommander@molzies-fanfics@fuzzy-panda@msmcsmutt​ @zombiesnips-blog

[bitchysoulwasteland]

No one but you.

Bucky Barnes X Vamp!Reader

A/n: my Queen obsession once again reveals itself, but, hey, I’m happy, so who cares?

You and Bucky had known each other back in the 1970s when you had been the front woman of Queen. Back then, of course, he was the Winter Soldier and you were an unknown singer when you met in 1968 with a struggling band desperate to find a frontman and a bassist. It was just you, Roger Taylor and Brian May back then. You were all still college students in your final year in the band ‘Smile’, which was before Freddie’s flamboyant changing of the band’s name.

You had met the Winter Solder at a pub in London. You had brought him a drink after you saw him outside, looking physically beaten up. From then, he hung out with you and the band. He had been there when Freddie and Deacy joined. When you had recorded your first song. When you had left Trident Studios and joined EMI.

But, he then disappeared. He was gone without a trace which left a gaping hole of longing within your soul itself.

This was when your songs started to be discarded from albums. They began to not even be recorded. You had lost your muse, seemingly your reason for life itself. The lads in the band noticed this before anyone else did.

It was a few years of heartbreak before everyone lost you. More than metaphorically, of course.

It was 1975 when you disappeared. You wrote a note to the band, apologising for your absence, resigned from the contract with EMI and moved to America.

You had given up with your life, so you were pray to those who would try to harm you. You were vulnerable and loved a good alcoholic drink, so it was easy for the sod that turned you into a vampire to do so. You didn’t really remember it, but you did know that you had been fending for yourself since then.

The only good thing to come of it, was that you no longer had to worry about how your soldier left you. You didn’t have to. You pushed it to the back of your mind and tried to forget about it.

You had your mansion, your alcohol and your memories of Queen to get you through. You had also befriended a vampire called Damon Salvatore and another called Stefan Salvatore who lived a few roads away from you.

It got to the point where you were basically living in their place more than your own. You and Damon often got blackout drunk and would go around Mystic Falls just for the hell of it, which would then result in Stefan having to clear up your mess.

Present day: Mystic Falls

The Quinjet landed in a field beside a mansion. There had been a system failure, so Steve had to land it. The Avengers walked out of the jet, Bucky at the back. They walked to the door and Steve knocked on the oak.

Inside, you got up from the sofa and answered the door, somewhat shocked the Captain America was there.

“Win?” You said, seeing the soldier behind Steve.

“Y/n? You’re alive?”

“Un-bloody-fortunately, yeah. Come in, all of you.” You said, letting them in.

“I thought you’d died, doll.”

“I couldn’t do it after you left.”

“Do what?”

“Queen, life, any of it. I gave up. I wrote the lads a note before I left…. It hurt Win. It hurt so fucking much.” You said as Bucky wrapped his arms around you.

��I’m sorry, doll.” Bucky said, slightly tightening his embrace.

“It wasn’t your fault. With the whole Hydra and mind wipe thing I knew it would come eventually. Just maybe not so soon.”

A knock came from the door. “Y/n, I brought Jack Daniels.” It was Damon, there for the monthly drown your sorrows meeting you two would have.

“I guess you found someone else, huh doll?” Bucky said before letting go of you and walking into the living room as you answered the door, letting Damon in. You left the door open and vamp speeded to Bucky.

“It’s not like that, Win. It has never been like that. Not with him and not with anyone else, alright? And if you don’t believe me, you can ask him.”

Bucky looked you in your eyes. “You sure, doll?”

“There’s no one, Win. No one but you.”

Bucky smiled, embracing you once again. Damon stood in the doorway, happy that you had found Bucky again.