summary: grief, trauma, and a broken heart is an unstable platform for a relationship to thrive on, and neither you nor bucky ever made it clear what your relationship actually was.
warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, rough/angry sex, angst, hurt, panic attacks, anxiety, misunderstandings, yearning, comfort, shame rooms, depictions of violence and death, thunderbolts semi movie spoilers, timeline is set from end of civil war to thunderbolts, happy ending
word count: 11.5k
a/n: good luck to everyone who reads this!!!
masterlist
ă»ă»ă»ă»ă» Queens, New York; 2023
âThis is what you fucking wanted from me, right?â Bucky grunted from behind you, but you canât speak.Â
You have a million things you want to say to him, but none of them are right. Bucky wouldnât listen to you even if you tried to explain.Â
Youâre shoved into the pillow beneath you, only moans ripping from your throatâ the only sound that you can produce in response to his question.Â
The only other noise between the two of you is the sound of skin slapping against skin as he pounds you from behind. The grip he has on your hips is bruising, and not in the way you usually enjoy it.Â
Heâs mad, and itâs your fault.Â
âI asked you a question. Answer.â
His hand comes down on your ass, smacking it so hard you canât help but moan, knowing that he left a mark on your body that will last. Your body will always react to him, even when you know youâre in the wrongâ when you know you should be apologizing. When you know the last thing the two of you should be doing right now is fucking.Â
You canât help it. Your body will always call for him, always yearn for him, sing when his fingers touch you.Â
âNoâ No,â you finally managed to choke out, tears brimming in your eyes.Â
Youâre not crying because you donât want him. Not because heâs hurting you. Not because itâs too rough. Youâre crying at the realization.Â
You know this is the last time.Â
This will be the last time youâll feel his cock so deep inside youâ the delicious angle of it dragging up and down that sweet spot inside you that he always hits so perfectly. You know you wonât be able to feel his hands all over your body again. He wonât give you a second chance, not after this. Not after the conversation you just had.Â
Despite it all, you canât find it in you to tell him to stop. The pace he has on you is punishing, and you feel guilty for even finding some sort of pleasure in how heâs taking you.Â
This will be the last time that you'll have him near you. This is the last time that he will stand your presence, to even look at you with the last remaining patience left in his body. This is the final time that you will be able to have him, in any sort of way. He'll walk away from you. You'll be alone after this, after he's done.
You know deep down he would stop if you told him to. He would never disrespect you like that. No matter how angry or hurt he is, he would never do anything to hurt you. You saw it in his eyes before he took your clothes offâ the chance to back out. You were the one to remove the first article of fabric, to give him the outlet that he was craving for.Â
âNo?â he echoed, sarcasm dripping in his voice. âYouâre a fucking liar.â
Your fingers curl around the pillow and sheets beneath you for purchaseâ something to hold onto. Heâs fucking into you so deep, barely leaving the tip of his cock in before sinking all the way back in without any hesitation. Thereâs no break.
Bucky rarely had you on your stomach. Itâs his least favorite position, he said. He despised the fact he couldnât see your face. He wanted to see every single emotion of pleasure he brought to you. Bucky hated that you were easily able to hide every single moan and whimper when he took you from behind.
Thereâs no connection, he told you one night as you laid in his arms. He whispered it to you like it was a secret as he ran his hands through your hair. He liked holding you against him, enjoyed the fact he could have easy access to your lips, and lock eyes with you.Â
Yet, he put you like this from the beginning.Â
Bucky was radiating an intense amount of heat, but you had never felt so cold. You were freezing in this room, even though you were both panting and sweating against each other.Â
Your heart was shattering with each thrust of his hips. Youâre craving him. Some sort of intimacy. You want him to hold you, even though you know you messed up. Just something for you to hold onto for the night before he disappears forever.
You know heâs close to the edge. You know his tells like the back of your hand. His thrusts are getting messier. Less rhythmic. His breathing is growing shallower, moans are becoming lower. Thereâs a slight tremble in his body against yours every time he connects with you, and his fingers are digging into your flesh to keep you in place right where he wants you.Â
You weakly try pushing yourself on your elbows, tears finally slipping down your face. Tears that you werenât brave enough to let fall during your conversation earlier. Tears that you knew would take forever to dry up when he finally left you.
âBucky,â you whimpered, your voice coming out broken and raw, âBuckyâ Kiss, pleaseââ
A vibranium hand is roughly tangled in your short hair, shoving your head back into the pillows underneath you.
âShut the fuck up,â he moaned, hips stuttering.Â
You feel the familiar warmth of his release coat your walls in thick spurts. Buckyâs body shudders behind you, but he doesnât blanket you like he usually does after he cums. Noâ he forces himself to pull out of you, leaving you cold, empty, used.Â
Your heart is still racing as you slowly push yourself up. You can feel the remnants of him leaking out of you as you listen to the rustling sound of Bucky beginning to dress himself.Â
âYou donât get to cry now,â Bucky muttered.
You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth to stop yourself from making any noise. You turn your head to look at him, watching him pull his pants over his hips. His back is turned to you. You can see his face through the vanity.Â
âBucky,â you whispered, a breath escaping your lips. âPlease. Iâm sorryââ
âYouâre sorry because you were caught,â he cut you off, looking at you through the mirror. âNot because you actually regret anything.â
âBuck, please. Just hear me out,â you pleaded.Â
âYou donât get to call me that,â he hissed at you, roughly grabbing his jacket from where it was discarded on the edge of the bed. âI donât ever want to see your fucking face again, do you hear me? You disgust me.â
Your lips parted, silent tears dripping down and staining the bed sheets beneath you. You canât breathe. You can only watch him as he moves towards the door to your bedroom.Â
âDo you mean that?â you manage to force out as his hand touches the door knob. Your voice cracked, thick with emotion.
Bucky hesitates, for just a moment. He still hadnât turned to face you. You watched as his shoulders square off, his body becoming guarded against you. .Â
âI meant what I said earlier. Youâre no better than H.Y.D.R.A..â
Youâre left on your bed, naked, alone, with silent tears streaming down your face. Your body is cold, even though he was just here with you moments ago. Your ears are still ringing with the echoing sound of the front door of the apartment slamming shut with his final exit.Â
ă»ă»ă»ă»ă» Wakanda; 2016â2018
The room is below freezing. As a breath escapes your lips, you can see a cloud form before your face. You shook your head in disapproval, rubbing your arms as you went to turn up the thermostat.Â
âBucky?â you called out, watching the numbers hit a comfortable 73 degrees in the room. âDid you eat all your food? Was it enough? Do you want more?â
As per usual, the soldier doesnât answer you. You always try anywayâ you hope that the day will come that heâll talk to you. You let out a sigh as you move throughout the room. Heâs not at the table, but neither is his plate. Your eyebrows furrowed.
Usually, you have to go towards him and badger him to try to eat a little bit more. You have to tell him that itâs okay to eat. He barely eats as it is, and youâre not sure if itâs because he doesnât think itâs okay to eat or if heâs trying to hoard the food for another day.
Your eyes fall on him in the corner of the room. Heâs purposely making himself look smaller as he picks at pieces of the food in front of him. Yet, you see heâs not even touching the walls with his body. Like heâs almost afraid to take space.
You take a few steps, experimental. His eyes flicker to you, and you stop in your place.
âYou know you can eat at the table, right?â you asked, voice soft.
He gives you one single nod.Â
âYou donât want to?â you guessed.Â
Thereâs no gesture of a response this time, but you can assume his answer from his silence. You sighed once more, and moved again. You tried to ignore the way his body stiffened as you came closer to himâ a strangerâ and took a seat beside him, back pressed against the wall, but there was enough space between the two of you so he could still breathe.
You picked up the least appetizing food on the plate, the small loaf of bread, and broke it in half.
âBy the time I finish eating my half, you better be finished eating your food otherwise Iâm telling Steve and Sam to come back early from their mission in Osaka to yell at you,â you warned him, putting the other portion of the bread down on the plate.Â
You keep your eyes off of him, giving him the privacy he may or may not need to eat his lunch. You take small nibbles on your bread, eating slowly on purpose.Â
Out of the corner of your eye, you see him finally move. He takes bigger bites than you.Â
âWhy arenât you in Osaka?â he spoke.Â
Youâre shocked, but you try not to let it show. You give Bucky a smile, then gesture towards your body.
âIâm still injured from Berlin. King T'Challa did a big number on me when I tried to stop him from getting to the Quinjet, remember? Stevie wonât let me be deployed right now. Besides, I don't think our gracious King would let me leave Wakanda until I was fully healed anyways.â
âYouâve worked with Steve for a while?â Bucky asked. He sounded hesitant. Almost afraid of you. It made sense. You were a stranger to him, yet Steve dropped you off to take care of him without any explanation.
"I rehabbed Steve," you shrugged. "When he came out of the ice, I brought him up to speed with the new world around him. I was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, not an Avenger, but S.H.I.E.L.D. went to shit so I just... did some odd jobs for a bit. Steve asked me for help when the Avengers went to shit⊠and since Iâm on the run for helping him, and have nothing better to do, I figured I might as well rehab you, too."
âWhy?â
You turned your head to look at him, finding that heâs already looking at you. You give him a smile, leaning your head back against the wall.
âI was given a second chance in life,â you tell him. âYou deserve one, too. And a third. And a fourth. Iâll give you as many chances as you need, so donât stress out too much, Buck. Life is good. When youâre well, Iâll take you to my favorite bakery in New York.â
Buckyâs looking at you with confusion in his eyes. Thereâs a mixture of disbelief and distrust as well, but you donât blame him. Steve gave you the full rundown on Buckyâs entire past. Thereâs nothing that you donât know about the man.
You know every detail. The nitty, gritty, gory details that you know Bucky wouldn't tell you himself. You read the files yourself. Steve gave you the option to back out, and he said there would be no judgement if you thought you wouldn't be able to handle the amount of trauma that Bucky had.
You gave Steve a smile, and said that Bucky would be in good hands, and Steve could do what he needed out in the world.
You stay by Bucky's side the entire time, giving him the space that he silently requests for. You don't push when he pulls away from you. You don't question where he stops answering. You simply give him the options that he never had before.
And it seems to confuse him all the more.
âWhy do you try so hard for me?â Bucky asked again. A longer, fuller sentence this time, but he was still asking the same thing he did before.Â
You were sitting in his room. It wasnât a mealtime. You were here of your own volition, with your computer in your lap. You were doing some background work for Steve and Sam, feeding them information while they were on the field.Â
Bucky was watching you from his place on the ground. He still wasnât comfortable enough to use his bedâ so you made him a cot on the floor. Just a simple spread of two blankets, and one pillow. He started using it after two weeks.Â
You lowered your laptop screen, looking at him.Â
âIs there a reason I shouldnât?â you asked, flipping the script on him.
You watched as his face contorted with surprise. Buckyâs lips parted, eyebrows furrowing. His mouth closed as he took in a deep breath, and swallowed thickly.Â
âIâm not a good person,â he said, his voice thick.Â
âNeither am I,â you replied, smiling at him. âI think the only good person amongst us is Steve. Sam, too. But thatâs a bit of a debatable fact.â
Buckyâs lip twitched slightly in what almost became a smile, and you mentally celebrated the improvement. The flicker of new emotion, even if it was subtle and brief.Â
âIâm sure Iâve done worse than you,â he said after a few moments, looking down at his hand. He clenched his fist opened and closed, and you were sure he was reliving some sort of memory or nightmare in the few seconds that passed between you two.
You shrugged. âItâs all relative. Iâve committed horrors that some people will never be able to forgive. That I wonât be able to forgive myself for. But that doesnât mean others canât forgive you.â
Bucky stayed silent for the rest of the day, and youâre sure heâs thinking about your words until late in the night.
The next morning, you exit your room to find him standing in your hall. He doesnât say a word, but he follows you as you go on your early morning walk.
From there, the two of you spend more time together. Bucky started to seek you out on his own, looking for you when you donât come to him first.Â
In the beginning, your time together is spent in silence.Â
Your walks turn into full on hikes with the healing soldier. The only noise between you two is the nature of the native animals of Wakanda. You two sat together on cliffs, looking over the city as you would eat breakfast that you had stolen from the kitchen before you left on your walk. You both keep walking through the plains without any sort of plan or routeâ and you often get lost.Â
When itâs time to head back to the palace, itâs Bucky that takes you by the hand and leads you towards the right path.Â
Bucky started to eat meals with you at the table. Not just snacking, but full meals. The first time he asked you if there was more food in the kitchens, you jumped to your feet, and ran down the hall with tears in your eyes.Â
You ate seconds with him, silent tears streaming down your face. Bucky let out the first laugh youâd ever heard from him during that meal.Â
âWhy are you crying?â he asked.
âShut the fuck up and eat!â you sniffled, wiping away your tears quickly.Â
Bucky would watch you train with the Dora Milaje once Shuri cleared you of your injury. He watched you get your ass handed to you multiple times over as you tried to get your footing against these warriors, raising an eyebrow at you when you returned to him with bruises and scrapes.Â
âDonât laugh,â you muttered as he handed you an ice pack.Â
âWell, theyâre not holding back on you, and the worst youâre getting is a bruise,â he said.
âWhy do you sound impressed? Are you messing with me right now?â you accused, digging your fingers into a developing knot in your shoulder.Â
âI am impressed,â he told you, making you stop and look at him with suspicion. âI didnât really see you fight in Berlin. I understand why Steve asked you for help.â
Bucky would give you pointers with just the two of you alone. Even with just one arm, Bucky was a force to be reckoned with. He was itching to move, and he was more than happy to help you out.Â
There weren't many places where you needed help, he said. You were simply out of practice from the injuries you sustained. You also had small tells that he noticedâ things that you were shocked he caught onto. Bucky taught you how to fix those tells so no one would be able to use them against you again. Your sparring matches with the Dora Milaje got longer, harderâ and you gained their respect almost overnight thanks to Bucky.
You still couldnât believe Buckyâs sharp eyes when it came to your movements. The last person who noticed your weaknesses was your sister, who studied your moves like her life depended on it.Â
Because it did. For her, at least.Â
The first time you left on a mission, you didnât tell Bucky. It slipped your mind. Steve came into your room in the middle of the night, waking you up. You didnât even know he returned, but he and Sam needed you. You barely had a chance to brush your teeth before you were shoving your body into your gear, meeting them at the launchpads to leave.Â
You received a high pitched static through your earpiece barely an hour on the field. You almost thought the mission was compromised, and all three of you were royally fucked. Well, you were compromised. You were just lucky it wasnât anyone that wanted to harm you.Â
âYou didnât tell me you were leaving,â he said, voice distorted slightly from wherever he had hijacked the frequency from.Â
âBucky?! What the hellââ
âWhy didnât you say you were leaving?â he cut you off.Â
âWhy are you on my channel right now?â you hissed, trying to keep your voice low and avoid raising attention to yourselves.Â
âWhen will you be back?âÂ
You paused. Even through the distortion, you could hear it. The vulnerability thick in his voice.Â
âFour days,â you answered.Â
âIâll wait three.â
The static finally cleared the comms, and Steve and Sam raised an eyebrow at you. They all heard it. You were in as much disbelief as they were.Â
When you returned in two and a half days, you brought a digital calendar for his room. You started marking down your mission dates the second you heard you would be out, and would update it remotely if something ever changed. You didnât want Bucky to panic on you again.
You watched as Wakanda healed Bucky in a way that you didnât know was possible. Two years in this place brought peace to a man who knew seventy years of war.Â
You were able to see as a smile would slowly grow on his face, as he began to talk more on his own. As the title of White Wolf was bestowed upon him by the Wakandans.
You enjoyed festivals with Bucky many times over. You dragged him down the streets of Wakanda, the two of you wide eyed and completely innocent to the culture around you. Both of you would dress in cultural garb, gifted to you by Shuri and T'Challa so you would blend in with the crowds around you. You would stay out late into the night, sometimes until the sun rose into the next day.
You would share different foods together. By this point, the locals all knew the two of you. They would give you discounts upon discounts for foods and different items of wares, or forego charging you all together. They would joke for you to tell the King about their shops in exchange for their services.
Bucky would watch as you would get your hair braided by the local girls in the village during these festivals, sitting beside you as flowers were woven into your hair.Â
âItâs a shame,â he murmured, touching your hair as you walked away from the girls.Â
âWhat is?â you asked, hands clasped behind your back.
âYour hair would be prettier like this if it was longer,â he told you, his hand dropping to his side.Â
You paused, trying to push away the pounding feeling in your chest. You looked away from himâ ignoring the look of contentment and peace on his features. He looked so happy at that moment.Â
âI cut it for missions,â you murmured.Â
âThatâs why itâs a shame,â he said, nodding. âYouâd look nice with longer hair.â
From that point, Bucky started picking flowers during your morning walks together. He would present them to you, and you would carry them with you.Â
You don't remember when it happened, but Bucky stopped handing you flowers. He began to put them directly into your hair with a small smile on his face. If there was another flower that caught his eye during your hike, he would add it to your hair. If any of the flowers began to slip, he would stop you and adjust them before you both continued onwards.Â
You had an entire drawer of dried flowers saved from your walks together. Preserved in time, each one carrying more emotion than the other. Each flower contained a different memory of him.Â
A memory of not just someone you were helping out because Steve asked you to, but someone you considered as your friend. Someone that relied on you for guidance and support. Someone that you turned to for assistance when you couldnât ask Ayo for help. Someone that you went to because you simply felt like it. Someone you wanted to spend time with because you enjoyed his presence.Â
Someone that you felt guilty for falling in love with.Â
Bucky was a man that was healing.Â
Falling in love with him nowâ taking advantage of him at his most vulnerable would be fucking shameful of you. You wouldnât let your emotions show, you wouldnât let him know. You didnât want to cloud his judgement as he was finally getting a grasp on who he was as a person, as he was finally gaining autonomy over himself.Â
You hid your heart under your sleeve, continuing to spend your days with him with chains and locks tightly guarding the feelings that you desperately wanted to let free. You wouldnât allow them to come out.Â
Not when Bucky finally knew peace, not when he finally felt okay with himself. You wouldnât throw a curveball in his direction, and betray him. You wanted him to view you as someone safe, someone he could trust. You didnât want him to think you expected anything from him.
If the timing was right, if he had ever expressed interest on his ownâ maybe. Just maybe, you would allow yourself to melt into his embrace. Only if he made the move first, if he decided that he wanted it. Wanted you.Â
You never got the chance to find out.Â
The Outrider soldier you were fighting with had just vanished into nothing before you. Dread filled your stomach, and you turned to sprint across the battlefield. You needed to be sure. Terror was clawing at your every sense.
You ignored the deep gash in your torso, white, hot pain burning through your body. It didnât matter right now. Bucky met your gaze.Â
Bucky, who was disintegrating before your eyes. Bucky, who was staring at you with wide eyes. You could feel everything. You saw the panic on his face, the fear.Â
Then, he was gone.Â
Steve wrapped his arms around you before you could fall to your knees at Buckyâs ashes, his body shaking as if he was afraid that you would disappear next.Â
You both sat there, trembling. Hearts racing, the two of you watched as dust began to float around you in the wind.Â
ă»ă»ă»ă»ă» Present, 2027
âWake up!â Yelena hissed at you, hitting your leg with her foot.Â
Your eyebrows furrowed as your face twisted with discomfort. Your head was pounding. Not just from the explosion, but from everything that came before that. The guards that filtered through the vault. Having to climb up an elevator shaft with strangers that you had attempted to kill moments prior. The sonic cannon that assaulted your ears. The impending doom of almost being incinerated. The strange battle between assassins and soldiers that had varying targets.
You forced your eyes open, momentarily discombobulated as you took in the scene around you. Your hands shoved into the cement beneath you before you took a sitting position. Your vision steadied after a few moments, and you froze.Â
You looked down at yourself, then at the others. The rope that had been used to âtieâ you up was so loose that you could just slip out of it. The others were tied together tightly, wrists bound. Alexei was even secured with a metal pipe.Â
âBucky, do you really think putting a piece of string around her body was really enough?â John sarcastically asked.
Suddenly, you remembered what even put you in this position in the first place.Â
He blew up your fucking get away car.
You donât look at him, keeping your head down. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face, watching you. Waiting to see what youâll do or say. You wonât do a single thingâ not to him, at least. You owe him that much.
âThey are both Avengers, that is why! He gives her the respect she is due!â Alexei boomed.Â
Your eyes snap at the super soldier, and you give him a single warning look. You shake your head once. He doesnât seem to understand.
âYou fought together during what seemed to be the end of the world, yes? You, especially! With my little Natasha! I saw you on the news a few times.â
âI wasnâtâ Iâm not an Avenger. Never was,â you grunted.
âCan we talk about something else?â Yelena cut him off. âLike the fact that we need to find Bob?â
You let the others do the speaking, trying to calm down your thundering heart. You couldnât hear their words. It was being filtered out, muffled by the sound of erratic beating between your ears as you kept your eyes trained on your feet. Even staring at the ground was difficult. Your vision was getting shaky.
When was the last time you were in the same room as Bucky? When was the last time he was this close to you? It had been almost five years at this point, you think. Four years and ten months if you were to be precise.Â
Bucky warned youâ told you to stay out of his line of sight. Is that why he blew up the fucking limo with the people that you just gained a kinship with?
It was the only reason why you ended up working for Fontaine as one of her fucking agents, doing her dirty workâ doing what you did best and getting paid for it. You were a machine for these past handful of years. The perfect soldier, just as you were raised to be. You were certain your parents were singing your praises from the seventh circle in hell.Â
Best of all, you could stay out of the light. Just as Bucky told you to do. Out of the light, where he was. Where he was meant to beâ just like you always told him he should be.Â
This was supposed to be your last mission. You found some cabin in the woods in Oregon that you were going to move to. Remote, out of the way. Something that reminded you of Wakanda without the people and the culture. You had saved enough money, lived frugally enough to be able to live comfortably for the rest of your days. You worked out a plan with Val that if she needed you, you could be pulled back onto the field every once in a while for more expensive hit missions again.
You can only follow everyone else numbly when they start shifting towards the jet that Bucky had brought, and you distinctly hear that youâre heading back to New York.Â
In the jet, everyoneâs flittering about.Â
Alexeiâs messing with tech that heâs in awe about seeing, Yelena is whacking his hands away and telling him not to focus before going back to Bucky to help him navigate.Â
Walker is going through the rations, muttering about being starving while Ava looks at him with disgust when he offers her some food. She settles for a med kit, deciding to take care of her scrapes and cuts instead.Â
You werenât even tied up, but the walls were closing in on you. Your skin didnât feel like your own, and your gear was beginning to melt into your body in a way that you couldnât claw off fast enough. Your heart was outside of your body, and your lungs were in a different continent.Â
You clenched your fists, trying to ground yourself as your fingernails dug crescent shaped indents into your palm, but it was to no avail. Your hands werenât your own. You werenât seeing through your own eyes. Your body wasnât yours, and you couldnât stop the encroaching feeling of helplessness that you desperately tried to pretend wasnât there.
âHey.â
Your head snapped up, seeing Ava in front you.
âAre you coming or what?â she asked, eyebrows furrowed at you.
Vaguely, you noticed everyone was already moving outsideâ and you forced yourself to suck in a breath of air. You could only give her a small nod before moving your weight onto your feet, following her out the jet and towards the tarmac. You didnât even realize the jet had touched the ground.Â
Youâre moving to board the back with Ava when Alexei rounds the corner, grinning at you.
âAvengers should catch up!â he said, a hand coming down to your shoulder, pushing you to the carriage. âIt is nice to talk with an old buddy!â
âWhat?â you breathed. âNo, Alexei, itâs fine. Youâll be more comfortable sitting up thereââ
âGo, sit with your friend!â he exclaimed happily, shoving you to the front. âI will sit back here with my daughter and her friends!â
You barely had any time to protest before Ava closed the doors to the back of the truck, locked it, and phased into the back. You stood out there, the vehicleâs engine coming to life.Â
You have no choice. Thereâs a mission that needs to be done, and one hour of discomfort isnât a reasonable explanation to put lives in danger.Â
You pull open the door, sliding into the seat beside him. Once youâre situated, Bucky finally takes off down the road towards New York.Â
You keep your gaze trained out your window, elbow against the door as you cover your mouth and nose with your hand. Youâre trying not to breathe so loud, in fear that heâll hear you. Hell, youâre not trying to breathe at all. Thereâs a high chance that heâll throw you out of a moving vehicle. Blow this truck up, too, if youâre really unlucky.Â
You force your body to sit still, even though all you want to do is bounce your leg up and down anxiously. Under your gear, your skin is prickled with goosebumps. Youâre still trying to get your body back. It still doesnât feel like yours. Itâs probably left in the vault, incinerated with the rest of Valâs shit.Â
Bucky smelled exactly the same as you remembered. Even with you trying not to breathe, even with your palm covering your nose, you can smell him.Â
In this enclosed carriage, with the AC running, you were surrounded by the scent of Bucky. The familiar smell of cedarwood mixed with honeyed soap and a hint of coffee. Thereâs the extra layer of leather and metal that he always carries around with him that you adore, and the underlying nostalgic scent of his natural skinâ the heady scent of musk and salty sweat after the theatrics he had pulled on the road hours ago.
Gunpowder clings onto him faintly, and you can feel heat softly radiating from his bodyâ the vibranium arm attached to his left side is still cooling down. It takes longer on hotter days like this. You wonder when the last time he calibrated it, or if he even remembered to get that done. He would always forget. You used to do it for him.
Thereâs one smell thatâs missing.
The scent of you on his skin.
You closed your eyes, pushing the revelation far away from your mind. Your eyes are beginning to sting with unshed tears that you thought had long been cried away. You didnât think being close to him like this would have this kind of effect on you again.
âYour hair is longer.â
Your breath gets caught in your throat, your eyebrows furrowing. You slowly turn your head to look at him. To really look at him.
Youâve seen him on the news. On your phone, in articles. You would smile to yourself before moving on with your day, happy that he seemed to find his place in the world. But right nowâ he looked miserable.
The years had seemed to take a toll on him. There were lines on his face that werenât there before. Slight bags under his eyes that indicated he hadnât slept well in a while. His skin was duller, less life to them.Â
You wonder briefly if itâs because of dealing with the government in the way he is. Politics arenât an easy feat, but heâs Bucky. You donât doubt that heâs doing well, that he can manage somehow. He was always the better one between the two of you.Â
Buckyâs hair was a bit messy, but you would give him the benefit of the doubt, and say it was from the fact he just rode in on a motorcycle and took down several military vehicles by himself. The dark brown locks are longer, too. Not short, like the way you had cut them in your bathroom in Brooklyn after Steve left.Â
How he trusted you with scissors close to his face and neck, and closed his eyes while you carefully took care of him. You even shaved down his beard, and he had stubble for a while. It had all grown out now.Â
Yet, Bucky was more handsome than you could recall.Â
The years of absence had only made your heart grow fonder for him. You wanted nothing more than to smooth the line between his eyebrows. You wanted to slap a face mask on his face, dose him with melatonin, and ask him why the hell he hadnât been sleeping. You want to wrap him up with blankets and play with his hair, run your fingers against his scalp, and cradle his face in your hands as you hold him close.Â
You donât tell him that. You donât have any right to.Â
âThatâs what happens when you donât cut it,â is what you said instead.
A smile cracked onto his lips, and a small chuckle rumbled through his body. âYou donât say?â
You take in a breath so slow it doesnât shake, and return your eyes back to your window. You donât trust yourself to keep looking at him. Your tears might fall if you do. You swallowed the lump in your throat, and cleared your throat softly.Â
âYou look good,â Bucky said after a few more moments, breaking the silence once again.
âI was just in a car that got blown up, so I donât really believe that,â you muttered, fighting the smile that threatened to creep up on your face.Â
âI didnât know you were in there,â he said, almost sounding defensive.Â
âIf you did, would you have used that disc grenade?â you murmured.Â
âOf course not,â he replied immediately.Â
You paused, confusion settling deep into your bones. Why not? This man was supposed to hate you. He made that clear when he walked away from you. The words were caught on your throat, a million scenarios racing through your mind as you tried to pick apart your last conversation. You couldnât make sense of him.Â
âI didnât know you worked for Val,â he said, changing the topic. Then, a deep sigh escaped from his lips. âWell, I didnât know where you went at all. No one did.â
âYou told me to get lost,â you reminded him, your voice so soft you were certain a normal person wouldnât have been able to hear you. But he wasnât normal. He was your Bucky, and he was always able to pick up every single shift in your mood.Â
âI didnâtââ he cut himself off, swallowing thickly. âI was mad. I didnât mean it.â
Youâre numb. Your chest hurt. Your sternum was caving in on itself, you think. It had to be. Or your head was finally experiencing some sort of tumor pressing on your brain, and this was your last hallucination before you died.
Bucky wouldnât say these words to you. There was no reality that you would exist in where he would even tolerate speaking to you again, let alone admit that he took back the words he spat in your face with pure malice.Â
âThatâs not what you said when you walked away,â you managed to force out.Â
âI know what I said.â The grip Bucky had on the steering wheel tightened at the same time his jaw clenched.Â
Heavy silence sits like a wall between the two of you. You donât respond. You donât know what to say. He continues to drive, not another word leaving his lips. The two of you listen to the muffle conversation from the group in the back, listening to them bond over the weapons they carry on their persons.Â
You lean your head against the headrest, closing your eyes tight. You forced air to enter and exit your lungs.Â
One more mission. Just one more, and you can leave. Maybe Oregon would be too localâ Buckyâs reach would be able to grab you from there. Youâll leave the country as a whole.Â
Buckyâs eyes fell on everyone in the attic, heart erratic in his chest. His eyebrows furrowed, taking a quick headcount. He barely whispered out your name, a bit breathless from having to fight his way out to even get to Bobâs room.Â
âWhere is she?â he asked, everyone turning to him. Theyâre all still trying to process their own horrors.Â
âIâ I havenât seen her yet,â Walker stuttered, still disoriented.
âSheâs here?â Bob asked, surprise all over his features.Â
âFuck,â Bucky cursed, turning back towards the mirror that he came from, ignoring the shouts from the group he left behind. âJust wait there!â
Bucky raced back through his rooms, trying to find an entrance towards yours. He ignored his horrorsâ heâd already made his peace and settled with himself. He knew you still struggled.Â
Back in Wakanda, when he finally managed to find his voice, heâd asked you why you spent so much time helping him. You told him that there was no one there to help you. Over time, he learned.Â
You opened up to him about your militaristic freak of a family back in Wakanda. You told him about how you were raised in a camp, not a home.Â
You grew up with drills that your parents put you through from the second you could walk. You had a gun in your hand the moment your hands were strong enough to grip the metal.Â
You were the middle child of three, and the three of you were raised to see each other as competition. You fought each other daily. You were tested and tortured. Whoever was deemed the winner of the day was spared the punishment of your parents. The two losers would be subjected to horrors that you couldnât even repeat to Bucky. He never asked you to elaborate.Â
One day, without warning, your parents dropped you all in the middle of the forest. Another training exercise, you all thought. You were wrong.Â
Only one would survive this testâ this sick and twisted game. You never told Bucky the details of how you came out the winner, of how everything went down. He knew the aftermath.Â
How you killed your own parents out of revenge, grief, angerâ and how they both praised you for it. They told you you were perfect. You were the best soldier they raisedâ that this was the outcome they wanted. That their death was exactly what they planned for. You fell right into their trap without knowing it.Â
Bucky finally reached the first room, eyes focused on the woods. He would get the backstory today, it seemed. His eyes fell on you.
You were younger. Your hair was longer than it was right now, braided back into two and reaching down to your hips. You were dressed in camo, face painted to blend in with the woods. You had a sniper rifle strapped to your shoulder, and a pistol in your hand. Your jaw was clenched tight, your breaths slow and even.Â
Another dead body lay right beside youâ your older brotherâs body. He just tried killing your little sister by stabbing her to death with his brute strength. You shot him clean in the head. His eyes were still wide open, his blood soaking into the dirt of the forest beneath him.
You saved your little sister from him, but for what? You two were in a standoff. Both of you, guns drawn, pointed at each other. All for a fucking game. A hunt. All because your parents pit you together because you had the misfortune of being born into this kind of family.
Your little sister was the spitting image of you. Her cheeks were slightly fuller, eyes a bit rounder. She looked a little bit more innocent.Â
Her hand was shaking. Her breaths were a bit more shallow than yours. There was a hesitant look in her eyes, and you saw it. You saw the way your sister lowered her gun, just slightly.Â
âI canât do it,â you whispered, a tear sliding down your face and ruining the camouflage paint. Quickly, you shifted your gun to point at your own temple.
Bucky watched as your sisterâs eyeâs filled with pure panic, fearâ and her hand shifted slightly. She raised her gun once more. Her trajectory changed, and two gunshots filled the forest.Â
One, to shoot your gun out of your hand. The second, to shoot herself.Â
Grief immediately filled your features as a scream ripped through your throat. Birds were disrupted from their hiding places in the trees, rustling out of the leaves and taking to the sky.Â
Her body dropped to the forest floor as you rushed to grab her, pressing your hand to her wound as you cried. You were trying to stop the bleeding, even though you knew nothing you did would work. You knew she was dying in your arms.
âNo, no, no, no!â you kept repeating, taking the pack off your back to try and find something to help her.Â
Your sister grabbed your hands with the last of her strength, stopping you. You both knew your attempts were useless. You both studied the anatomy of the bodyâ she knew exactly where she shot was fatal.
âItâs okay,â she forced out, meeting your eyes.Â
âIâm sorry,â you babbled to her, cradling her face. âIâm so sorryâ Iâm sorryââ
âI love you,â she croaked, giving you a smile.Â
You only sobbed louder, watching the light die out of her eyes. You collapsed over her body, trembling, and holding her tight against you until her blood stained your bones and mixed into your own.Â
And the scene replayed.Â
Bucky moved into the next room. He pausedâ he recognized this room. This was Steveâs apartment. He went through Steveâs things after the last battle, after Steve made his choice.Â
The sound of the door opening caught his attention, and he turned.Â
âIâm just saying, doll,â Steve said, letting you in first before he followed in behind you, âthe movie was good. Youâre just not a hopeless romantic.â
âI am a hopeless romantic,â you fired back, taking your shoes off and putting them on the rack. âIt just wasnât realistic. She chose a broke man for what, Steve? Made no sense.â
âShe chose the one she loved, baby,â Steve corrected.Â
âAnd heâs broke,â you replied.Â
Steve sighed, shaking his head. Still, he had a smile on his face as he watched you. There was pure love in his eyes for you.
You had a bouquet of flowers in your hand that Steve took from you as you shrugged your jacket off. You smiled at him, grateful. When you took the flowers back, you stepped up on your toes to press a kiss onto his lips.
Steveâs hand came around the small of your back, holding you tight against him. Your free hand came around to hold the side of his neck, stabilizing yourself against him. There were smiles on both of your faces. When you parted, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you hummed in happiness.Â
Bucky tried to ignore the way his chest tightened at the sight.Â
You moved towards the kitchen, looking for a vase as Steve turned on the lights of your shared apartment. A normal night for the two of you. You arranged the flowers beautifully, looking happy with yourself as you placed them at the center of the dining table.
Bucky was momentarily confused. It looked normal enough. What was so shameful about this night? The two of you looked happy. You both got ready for the night, changed into pajamas, and met back onto the couch.
You were cuddled up against his side as he watched TV, scrolling through your phone. His arm was around you, rubbing circles into your hip.Â
âYou really think youâre a hopeless romantic?â Steve suddenly asked you.
âWhy are you bringing this up again?â you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice. You shifted your head to look up at him.Â
âI mean⊠I just donât see it,â he said softly. âIâm not saying youâre not romantic. I know you love me, but⊠I canât help but feelââ
âSteve,â you cut him off, sitting up. His arm slid off of you and he turned to look you in the eyes. âAre we talking about this again? Seriously?â
âWe never even really talked about it,â he argued, his voice a bit weak. He knew you were getting upset. âYou always dodge the topic. You donât want to talk about it.â
âBecause thereâs nothing to talk about!â you exclaimed, putting your phone down to give him your full attention. âI donât want to argue about what ifâs with my boyfriend on our third year anniversary!â
âYou donât even cut your hair anymore,â he said. âNatasha told me that you drunkenly confessed to her one time that you donât want to cut your hair because he once told you he wanted to see your hair longââ
âSteve, didnât you hear what I just said to you? I donât want to argue with you on our anniversary!â you stressed, almost begging him. âCan you please drop it? On any other night, I will talk about this with you. Literally any other night. Just not tonight, please.â
âTell me the truth,â he said, his voice hard as he ignored your pleas. âIf Bucky were still here, would you still be with me? Or would you have chosen him instead?â
âWould you choose me or Peggy if you had the option?â you immediately demanded from him.
Steveâs eyes widened. Your apartment was silent for a few moments, save for the background noise of the television that was forgotten by the two of you. You both stared at each other. Steve in disbelief, you with stubbornness in your eyes.Â
âThatâsâ thatâs not fair,â he whispered, swallowing thickly.Â
Your exterior cracked instantly. Stubbornness vanished, and your shoulders slumped. You let out a sigh, burying your face in your hands for a moment as you tried to calm yourself down. You were about to cry.Â
âYouâre right. Itâs not,â you admitted, your voice cracking. You lowered your hands, looking him in the eyes once again. âWhy donât you understand me, Steve? I love you so much. I wouldnât be with you if I didnât love you. I do. I really do. Andâ and I know you love her. I have accepted that you will always love her the same way that I will always love him. I loved him in utter silence. From afar. I watched him heal and get better. I loved a broken man that never looked my way and I was okay with that. I made my peace with it. And heâs not coming back. He never fucking will, Steve. Iâm trying to move on with my life. Can you stop rubbing it in my face?â
Steveâs staring at you, the weight of your words sinking into his soul. He looks horrible, regret all over his face for even opening up this conversation.
You let out a shaking breath, your chest rising and falling erratically as tears fall from your eyes. You angrily wipe them away, getting up from the couch.Â
Steve whispers your name, reaching to grab your wrist, to stop youâ to try to comfort you. It comes out pained, but you canât even look at him. You snatch your hand back from him, making your way to the bedroom you share with Steve, to just get away from him for a moment as more tears continue to fall.
Bucky observes Steve for just a moment, watching his friend bury his face in his hands and let out slow, deep breaths. Then, Bucky moves to follow you.
Youâre sitting in front of your vanity, rifling through your drawer. A pair of scissors are in your hands after a moment of searching. You hesitate, for just a moment. Then, you grab a piece of hair, chopping it off above your shoulders as your tears stain your cheeks.Â
Bucky forces his feet to walk on, mind racing as he breaks a window into the next room. He knows this place. He instantly recognizes the faint smell of vanilla and flowers.Â
His eyes fall onto the glass case of pressed Wakandan flowers that are on the wall, proudly on display. Thereâs mementos of the Avengers somewhere in your apartment. You have Steveâs art book on the coffee table. Natashaâs widow bites are on the mantle. One of Tonyâs first Iron Man helmets are on the shelf.Â
Your friends, people that you have loved and lost, all here with you, in your little apartment in Queens.Â
And youâre there. Not just the remnants of the past. You.
Youâre sitting on the couch of your old Queens apartment in your gear. Your lip is busted from the Sentry throwing you around in the Watchtower not too long ago. Thereâs a cut above your eyebrow from colliding with John too hard and hitting his gear the wrong way, and maybe a thousand other injuries that he canât see under the thick material of your tactical gear.Â
Your knees are pulled to your chest, arms wrapped around your legs. You look small right now, eyes trained on the movement before you. Unable to tear your gaze away, stuck in the shame and regret of your past.Â
And he knows exactly what this night is.Â
Bucky doesnât make a sound as he goes to your side. The couch dips as he takes a seat beside you, eyes on the side of your face. You donât acknowledge him, donât even give him the time of day. His chest hurts, but he canât blame you.Â
The stage resets.Â
Buckyâs opening your door with a key to your apartment that heâs had for a while nowâ you have one to his, too. It was for safety at first. Over time, it had turned into easy access to each other for your nightly escapades with each other.Â
You jolted at the sudden appearance. You were at the dining table, watching videos on your phone as you ate takeout by yourself. A simple dinner for a quiet night alone.Â
Bucky didnât text you. He didnât tell you that he was coming over. Normally, he would let you know that he was on his way. Even if the two of you didnât end up doing anything, he would at least give you a heads up.
âHey,â you said with a smile, turning to face him. âI thought you were hanging out with Sam tonightââ
âSo you fuck me to get over my best friend? Is that it? Is that all Iâm good for?â he demanded, and your smile fell. âAnswer me!â
âWhat?â you whispered, taken aback. âBuck, slow downââ
âYou couldnât even have the decency to tell me that you two were together?â he asked, running a hand through his hair. âI had to find out from fucking Sam?â
âHow the hell did Sam know?â you asked, shocked. âEveryone who knew isââ
âDead? Gone? Off the grid?â he cut you off, a hollow laugh escaping his lips. âYeah. So you thought you could hide it.â
âHang on. I wasnât hiding anything,â you said, standing to face him fully. Â
âDo you think you can just use me?â Bucky demanded, shocking you.Â
Your eyes widened at the raw emotion. Your lips parted, and you reached a hand out to him. To touch his hand. To try to comfort him, to do somethingâ anything. He smacked it away instantly, shocking you.
âDonât fucking touch me,â he growled at you, and you recoiled instantly, taking a step back.
âBucky,â you muttered, your voice shaking. âLetâs talk. Please. Thereâs a misunderstanding here. I wasnât hidingâ Thereâs nothing to hide.â
âI was at my fucking lowest when Steve left. I thoughtâ I thought it was the same for you. That your friend left you, too. That you were also trying to cope with the grief of losing everyoneâ everything.â Bucky was shaking, anger coursing through his veins. âThat you got no fucking answersâ but no. You were fucking me because you were mad that your boyfriend chose a woman he kissed once in the forties over you. And you know what? I donât blame him.â
You stared at him, mouth agape. Hurt and pain were all over your features. You were trembling, too. But not from anger. You were in shock.Â
âAm I disposable to you?â he whispered, your eyes widening.
âNo! Of course notââ
âWorthless, then?â he cut you off, voice rising.Â
âBucky, neverââ
âBecause I feel pretty fucking worthless right now,â he told you, meeting your eyes. His voice was trembling, eyes glistening with unshed tears.Â
You canât speak a single word to him. Your eyes are searching all over his face, and youâre silently pleading with him to try to understand you. To remind him that he knows you. That he knows who you are and that you would neverâ
âYou used me,â he said, swallowing thickly.Â
âNo,â you denied, your voice small.
âYouâre no fucking better than H.Y.D.R.A.. Using my body for what you want, just to throw me away later.â
âNo,â you said again, begging. âBucky, noââ
âIâll show you what itâs like to be used.â
Bucky grabbed you by the arm, dragging you into your bedroom. The door slammed shut a moment later, and it started all over again.Â
On the couch, Bucky takes a moment to look at you. You have your chin on your knees. Youâre exhausted.Â
âHow many times have you watched this?â Bucky finally asked you, leaning back against the couch cushions.Â
âI donât know,â you whispered, and Bucky feels his heart shattering in his chest.Â
He drags a hand down his face, taking a deep breath before he forces himself to his feet. He stepped in front of you, blocking your view from himself as the memory of a younger, stupider him started to blame you for shit that he couldnât work out on his own.Â
Bucky kneels down, going eye level with you. You still were looking past him, watching the last fight between the two of you.
âLetâs go,â he said, his voice soft.Â
âWhere?â
âTo save the world. Where else?â he tried joking with you.
âIâm not interested in saving the world, Bucky,â you whispered back, shaking your head. âIâm so tired.â
Bucky let out a sigh, closing his eyes for just a moment. He looks down at the floor, racking his brain for something. Anything.Â
âHow about the bakery we used to go to every Sunday morning?â he offered, then saw your eyes flicker towards his direction. âThey have a new mocha cake flavor. I havenât tried it yet. Have you?â
âI havenât been there in years,â you revealed. Your fingers absentmindedly picked at your thigh holsters, just to busy yourself a little bit. One of your anxious habits.Â
Bucky moved to rest his hand over yours, forcing your eyes to meet his once more. Forcing you to look at him again.Â
âReally? I go there all the time,â he told you. âI sit there and drink an iced coffee and order that loaded croissant you first got me when we went together. You knowâ the one with the jalapeños and bacon bits.â
â⊠Why?â you asked, eyebrows furrowing.Â
âBecause I miss you,â he answered, the confession leaving his lips without any hesitation. âYou⊠You left so fast. I came back here two days later. Your apartment was already up for lease. Your number was disconnected. Your cards were turned off. Itâs like you never existed.â
âI donât get why you would care so much,â you muttered, looking away from him as you pulled your hand away.
Bucky caught it once again, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your name fell from his lips, your eyes meeting his in surprise. He said it so tenderly. So gently. With affection that he had kept guarded in a box locked up and tucked away.
âCan I get another chance, please?â he whispered, and your eyes widened slightly. Bucky wet his lips, letting out a shaking breath. âYou told me that you would give me as many chances as I needed. And I fucked up badly on this night.â
âIt was my fault for not telling you,â you whispered back. âYou felt betrayed. Iâ I didnât tell you.â
âI didnât hear you out,â he said, shaking his head. âI shouldâve.â
You stared at him. Bucky watched as you searched his face for answers that you needed years ago, answers that he should have provided you with when he had the chance, when he had you in his arms but was too afraid to tell you how he felt.Â
âI will repent for the rest of my life for what I said and did to you,â he promised, squeezing your hand. âThis will be the last battle, I swear. If you want me to leave you alone after this, I will. But we have to go. I canât leave you in here to watch this shit show over and over again.â
Relief surged through his body as you shifted, your feet moving to touch the ground. You stood, and Bucky led you out of your last shame room, and back towards everyone else.Â
âLet me do it,â Bucky sighed, taking the antiseptic from your shaking hands. âSit down on the bench.â
You didnât fight him. You had no more fight left in your body. From pulling Bob out of the void, to the press monstrosity outsideâ you were completely spent.Â
The Watchtower was a mess. Glass was everywhere, furniture was broken, but at least there was a well functioning medical bay. The entire group of you were in here, all of you licking your wounds as you all tried to make sense of the last twenty-four hours of your life.Â
The stinging pain of alcohol pulled you out of your thoughts as Bucky pressed the cleaning agent into your wounds, and your eyebrow furrowed in pain.
âSorry,â he muttered.
âItâs fine. Are⊠are you okay?â you asked, mustering the courage to look up at his face.Â
Truth be told, his injuries had mostly cleared up by now. Just as they always had. But youâre not asking about that, and he knows youâre not.
âIâll probably enroll into therapy again, if you want me to set you up with someone, too,â he joked.Â
âI didn't even tell you everything,â you said, frowning at him. âWhat makes you think Iâll tell a stranger?â
âWell, I didnât even tell my therapist everything. I was thinking of dumping everything on Sam, actually. Make it his problem,â Bucky shrugged.Â
You paused, thinking it over. âSounds like a good idea, actually. I havenât talked to him in a while⊠Might be good for me to reach out.â
âYou should. He asks about you, every once in a while. Asked if Iâve heard from youâ even if itâs a whisper or a rumor,â Bucky said, his voice soft. âHe misses you, too.â
âI didnât exactly trust Sam to keep my location a secret after he blurted out to you that I was in a relationship with Steve,â you muttered, a scoff escaping your lips. âHe knew that we were sleeping together, too. He knew that you and I were doing it because we needed an outlet after everything we lost.â
Buckyâs hands stopped, and he pulled back to look you in the eyes. Shock is all over his face.Â
âHe knew?â he asked, in disbelief.Â
âBuckyâ I knew Sam longer than Iâve known you. Of course I told him,â you frowned at him. âAnd then the asshole went around telling shit that wasnât his to tell. I still don't know how he knew me and Steve were together, if I'm being honest."
âWould you have told me?â Bucky asked you, and itâs your turn to pause.Â
You weigh his words carefully, taking in the look on his face. Heâs not mad. Not upset with you. Heâs not looking at you the same way Steve did on your anniversary. Itâs not accusatory. Buckyâs curious.Â
âI wouldâve,â you whispered honestly, nodding. âBut I didnât think we would ever progress past just the⊠sleeping together. So I didnât think it was worth mentioning. I didnât want to ruin the little of you that I managed to have. I didnât realize that I would lose all of you in the process.â
Bucky let out a breath, dragging a hand down his face. Momentarily, you believe youâve pissed him off with your response. That youâll get a repeat of that night in your apartment.Â
You watched him carefully, your lungs stopping in your chest as you waited for his response. You wait for the explosion, for the yelling, the accusationsâ then, he looked at you. His eyes meet yours.
Buckyâs still not upset with you. In fact, thereâs affection in his eyes that you canât believe youâre seeing again. He looks the same way he always did when he hovered above you, murmuring praises about how good you were to him. It was the same way he looked when he held you afterwards, making sure that he didnât hurt you during the time you spent together.Â
This was the same way his eyes would light up when you came over to his apartment with food from his favorite restaurant after a particularly bad therapy session. How he sighed in delight and told you that you were the best, and how you always read his mind.Â
And, without you knowing, the same way he looked at you in Wakanda as you walked ahead of him with your hair full of flowers that he picked. Flowers that he deemed were good enough to decorate your head, but still not more beautiful than you.
âCan we start over?â Bucky whispered to you, hands moving to cover yours.Â
âStart over and do what?â you whispered back, trying to will your voice to stay even.Â
âI think that we have a good chance to do this right. You and me,â he said, releasing a breath. âWithout grief or trauma defining⊠us. Defining our relationshipâ what we are to each other.â
âIf thereâs no trauma or grief, then what is there?â
âLove, sweetheart. You donât believe in love? You were pretty adamant when you told Steve you were a hopeless romantic, you know,â he said, a soft teasing tone in his voice as he squeezed your hands.Â
You could only let out a laugh in response, shaking your head. You cringed, unable to stop your body from the visceral reaction. You hated that memory- hated that night. You and Steve didn't talk for two days after that fight.
âYou saw that? Did youâ You saw the whole thing?â
âI saw the entire thing,â he confirmed, nodding. âAnd Iâm sorry. I⊠I told you that you were using me, and I didnât even know that you loved me from the start.â
âI hid it from you,â you murmured. âThat isnât your fault.â
âThen letâs call it an oversight on both our ends,â he said, giving you a small smile.Â
âDo you really think this could work?â you asked, sighing deeply. âUs?âÂ
âHypothetically speaking, yes. Realistically speaking? A thousand percent. But only if you want it. Only if you want me. Only if youâll allow me to love you in the way that I definitely do not deserve to have you.â
Just like that.Â
Bucky isnât pleading with you. There is no pressure. He had simply opened the door to his heart, and heâs standing on the other side for you to join him.Â
The answer is on the tip of your tongue as you feel your eyes sting with emotion. Youâve cried so much in the past day, youâre surprised you havenât passed out from dehydration.Â
Your vision is beginning to blur from your tears as you look at himâ look at his face.Â
Heâs patient. Watching your every move with bated breath. His gaze is gentle, as if he is anticipating and ready to forgive you for rejecting him.Â
Your throat is locked up as a tear finally slips down your cheek. Buckyâs eyes never leave yours, but his hand moves to cradle your face. His thumb brushes away the wetness, clearing your face.Â
And you nod. Small, subtle, but you know he sees it. He always sees it. He always sees your every move.Â
Buckyâs shoulders drop, relaxed as he reaches for you, arms wrapping around you. Heâs holding you to his chest, and you can hear itâ the inconsistent sound of his heart beating in his chest. You can feel the anxiety in his bones as he keeps you firm in his grasp, head tucked under his chin.Â
A moment later, you bring your own arms around his torso, fingers clutching onto his shirt tight. Bucky shifts, pressing a series of kisses to the top of your head.Â
You close your eyes, allowing yourself to finally melt into his arms. Years of yearning and silent love has brought you here, with him. The pain is still present, but is beginning to chip away with each of his words as you listen to him whisper to youâ
âIâm so sorry.â
âIâll make you happy this time.â
âThank you. I don't deserve you- but thank you.â
Summary: One year being married to your husband, Your dinner reservation is forgotten the second heâs on his knees and looking up at you with his steel blue, pleading eyes
Warnings: Pure smut. Oral (f receiving), face sitting/riding, usage of bondage (handcuffs, on Bucky), unprotected P in V, kind of dry humping?, Dom! Reader Sub!Bucky (but they kinda switch), Reader is a tease, Bucky wanting to be covered in your release (is that a kink? Idk), doggy style, kind of choking but not really?, Dog tag mention! (Always), fluff at the end ;)
Word Count: 3.2k
(UmmâŠkinda liked doing the photo collage thing, but I think Iâll stick with gifs and only do the collage on smaller fics! đ«¶)
When the ocean swarms your feet at the beach- the way the waves cascade in crowds
How pretty the baby blue sky looks with clouds dotting along, counting numbers and creating faces and shapes- animals and objects
But mostly? Your favourite shade of blue?
The ones between your legs. Looking up at you though eyelashes that flutter with barley restrained lust
Love and devotion cloud his pupils- his mouth worshipping your knee as he slowly straps up the small belt on your heels
You know you wonât even make it out the front door before he snaps- before his blue disappears into a pit of desperate need and heâll be pulling you back into his chest just to show you how much heâd rather have you for dinner instead of whatever fancy restaurant Sam had suggested for your one year wedding anniversary
You try to step away- god do you try- but his hands- one flesh, the other metal, grip your hips and pull you right back against his face- nearly falling back until his fingers dig into your ribs
You donât have a chance to protest- to compromise- because he already has you sitting on his face, tongue tracing your folds though the thin white panties he had only just gifted you with today
âB-Bucky-â You whine, hands desperately reaching out to clutch any part of him. You fall empty handed, having to opt for placing your hands on top of his own while his nose nudges your panties just a enough to the side to finally taste you
His wedding ring digs deliciously into your skin, metal hand pressing down firmly on your stomach to create pressure. Your eyes keep drifting to the gold band welded into the metal- at the way it shines so brightly because he cleans it at least five times a day
His other hand- flesh and so perfectly warm- moves down enough just to grip your thigh to open you up more for him
His tongue traces your slit, groans vibrating against you as he eats you out like heâs been starving ever since you put on the red dress and acted as if you were ever going to make it out of this house without him doing exactly this
The only way to coax him from this- is to bribe him with more
âCome on B-Buck letâs just m-â You moan, eyes squeezing shut â-Make it to d-dinner and-â
â-and what?â He asks, pausing for a moment beneath you- breath warm against your slick âAnd youâll touch me later? Let me taste you later?â
You donât even notice youâre dripping down his face until he helps you onto your feet and stands up, picking you up and carrying you right back to the bedroom, face slick with your wetness- unashamed and definitely ready to continue
âDidnât even make it past the entrywayâ You mumble weakly as he sets you on the bed to undo his suit tie, blue eyes never leaving yours
âDonât lie Sweetheart, you never planned on itâ He replies earnestly, leaning down to cup your jaw âNow. Am I allowed to appreciate my wife on our one year anniversary or are you going to have to make me beg?â
Your lips part in thought- and he kisses you before you can reply with the second option just to tease him
You pull back with a grin, only faltering when you notice him walking towards your secret drawer and pulling out the two pairâs of blue fluffy handcuffs you brought as a joke when you first started dating- that are now so prominent in the bedroom that theyâre basically apart of your sex life
âBucky-â
â-I get too greedyâ He says, gathering your hands- placing them beside eachother and placing the handcuffs in to the palms of your hands slowly, giving you all the control âNeed you to tie me downâ
You watch as he lies down on the bed, dress shirt- pants- everything except his suit jacket and tie and shoes that he never even put on in the first place still on
âWhatâs your colour?â You ask, tugging on the handcuffs, feeling the weight and fluffiness of them in your hands
His cock twitches in his boxers and pants as he licks his lips, already spreading himself ready for you
âGreen doll, so fucking greenâ
You start with his metal hand, handcuffing it to the headboard slowly, watching the way he eyes your breasts like his favourite meal, chest heaving beneath his dress shirt
âToo tight?â
âFeels perfectâ He corrects, tugging gently- even though he could break it in a split second- he likes pretending he canât. You slip off your heels and let them fall to the ground
You move to his flesh hand, spreading your legs on his forearm- he greedily moves it up- letting your clothed heat rub against his skin
You moan before you can stop yourself and you hear his metal hand tug on the handcuff- instinctively reaching for you like he always does
âNaughty boyâ You warn. Handcuffing his hand and moving back down to straddle his lap- gripping his chin âDid you ask permission to do that?â
âNoâ He whines- already. Chest heaving faster, and you already miss the blue in his eyes that are now pure blown with his pupils- only focused on you âCouldnât help myselfâ
You move down to his crotch before he can continue blabbering about how badly he needed to feel some part of you- grinding your clothed heat agaisnt the prominent bulge- slowly and devastating- the way he groans- the way his fingers wrap around the chains of the handcuffs- it almost makes you cum on the spot
But you know better
âYou disobeyed me. You donât get to cumâ You speak, watching the way his eyes squint with pleasure- how he tries to sit up- not getting very far
He watches you through lidded eyes as you strip off your panties- leaving you in nothing but your dress that youâre already bunching up to your thighs, and thatâs when he looses control
âFuck doll-â He groans, arching his hips to try and chase friction youâre neglecting him with âCome ride my face- pleaseâ He begs, hands strained- chest heaving- eyes blown so wide that you wouldnât be surprised if heâs blown the colour right out of them, but still, he lies there- desperate and ravenous, hands cuffed to the headboard, dress shirt tight against his muscles âRuin my fucking shirtâ
How can you deny such a beautiful man? Wearing his wedding ring with nothing but devotion for you written in his stars?
Plus, he started this didnât he? Heâs been begging for it all night.
He lets out what seems to be a sigh of relief when you finally remove your panties, tucking them into his pocket making him lick his lips with arousal. His chest slows beneath you when you finally reach his neck- his lips sucking into your thighs with a kind of anguish thatâs impossible to ignore- and then when you finally hover just above his face- all bets are off
You know better the to hold back when it comes to this. Your hands grip the headboard as his tongue dips inside you, ass settling on his chin as you plant yourself on his face
He groans like a man possessed, hands tugging at the cuffs, tongue so deep inside you that it feels like one of his fingers- nose purposely nudging your clit like it was carved just to do so
He knows just how to taste you- how to make you twitch and squeeze your thighs around his head how he wants you too.
He groans appreciatively when you begin to rock your hips- smearing him mercilessly with your heat- knowing that all youâre giving him is all heâd give himself if his hands were free
He sucks on your clit, tongue circling it as if he knows every way to make it twitch in his mouth, only growing more relentless with every rock of your hips
âJust like thatâ You moan out, head falling back, eyes closed in pleasure. One hand moves to tangle your fingers in his hair, rocking your hips faster and harder. He groans loudly into you, legs now bent on the bed to stop himself from snapping the handcuffs clean off his wrists and taking you just how he wants you too
You sit up for a minute to tease- immediately regretting it by the pure desperation in his eyes, the frown on his mouth and the way your juices are completely smeared across his nose, lips, jaw and chin, even dripping down to his neck
âGet the fuck back on me before I break these cuffs dollâ He warns, bulge so incredibly hard it might burst
âJust wanted to look at you covered in meâ You say cruelly, watching his mouth open and tongue dart out to lick wherever on his face he can reach âSure you donât want to switch it up?â
âNot until my shirt is covered in you.â
Youâre back on him before he can say another word and itâs not long before you feel yourself already close, clit pulsing on his nose and tongue squeezing around his tongue
âOn my shirtâ He mumbles into your heat- breathing steadily when you pull back just to cum, rocking your hips back and forth on his chest- smearing the shirt until itâs see through with your own release
Bucky watches with nothing but pure lust and worship, utterly silent as you cover him with yourself- not stopping until your thighs are shaking and your chest is heaving with overstimulation
Thereâs a wet patch in his dress pants from all the pre cum heâs leaking, and he doesnât even care at all, too busy watching you take ownership- too busy worshipping the ground you walk on as if you carved it with your bare hands
He doesnât fight the restraints anymore. Doesnât buck his hips or lick his lips like the greedy man he is. Just stares. Silent. Waiting, carving every moan and twitch into his mind- the way your hair falls over your face and your mouth opens with moans that refuse to exit
âNo.â He says immediately as he realises youâre reaching for the key to the cuffs, lifting his hip to gently tug you away from it
âNo?â
âRide me. Iâm begging youâ
Smeared with your juices. Shirt covered in your cum. Handcuffed to the headboard. Wet patch on his pants and heâs STILL asking for more?
Youâre definitely going to end up sucking his cock dry before the night is over by how fucking much heâs turning you on
âSo patheticâ You coo, already unbuckling his belt as you pull your dress off with ease
âFuckâ He draws out, eyes rolling back at the sight of you
âColour, baby?â You ask, leaning down to suck on the wet spot on his pants making him moan loudly and buck his hips
âF-fuck GREEN!â He shouts out in pleasure, panting when you pull back with a smirk âEvilâ He mutters non-heartedly as you pull his pants and boxers down in one, hands moving to unbutton his shirt but he shakes his head âWant to stay covered in youâ
You lean down to kiss him, tasting yourself all over his lips and tongue, nipping at his bottom lip and pulling back only to settle on his hips
âLook at youâ He praises, forearms bulging as his hands twitch to hold you- touch you- cherish you. âShow me that pretty pussy baby. Show me everythingâ
The whine in his voice sends your clit throbbing again and you spread your vulva with your fingers- his cock already hardening and leaking angrily from his red tip. He hisses out in pleasure when you barley rub your clit along his tip- smearing it in his cum
âYou wanted this?â You ask, biting your bottom lip âYour cock sure looks like it didâ
âMe and my cock are a team here dollâ He groans out though gritted teeth âGonna- gonna-â
â-Already?â You mock, rocking slower against him âI havenât even touched youâ
From the amount of times heâs cum just from eating you out- youâre shocked he hasnât cum yet, but this? The fact that heâs reduced to a tied up mess with nothing but whimpers and eyes rolling back- you fucking love it, love the way he trusts you to take control
You slowly sink onto his cock, watching the way his chest heaves with sobs of pleasure and his throat bobs with moans caught in it. Your fingers find his chin, tilting his head forward until heâs forced to meet your own eyes
âD-Dollâ He moans, hips meeting yours âPleaseâ He begs, desperate and completely yours.
âWatch me.â You demand quietly, beginning to ride him âAnd donât you dare cum until I say soâ
Heâs reduced to a half nod as his eyes blur with pleasure, never taking them off of you
The way your hands find his chest- how your lips part with breaths that are ragged, how his cock slides in and out with every roll of your hips- he almost explodes when you begin spelling his name with the roll of your hips, eyes daring him to disobey you
âHoly fuck-â
â-Language babyâ You coo mockingly, really slowing down with the âKâ and âYâ at the end of his name
âPlease- god please-â
â-Please what?â You slow even further and he whimpers out in protest, cock twitching, hips desperate to move- cuffs dinging with protest at how hard heâs tugging on them
âPleaseâ He pants, balls so tight heâs sure heâs about to cum a whole fucking river âIâm yours. Yours.â
The words unlock something inside you, and you begin moving with purpose, with remorse
He groans with every bounce- his balls hitting your ass perfectly, clit nudging his shaft with every thrusts
His hips meeting yours with each thrust, aligning perfectly in union as you fuck eachother with purpose
âAre you ready?â You ask, nails scratching his chest as he nods dumbly, already leaking inside you
One more roll- one more lip bite, one more-
âBucky-â And you both cum, chests halting with shock at the pleasure. Cum drips down his shaft and out of you as you slowly slide down his shaft, settling
âOh my godâŠ.â He whispers, cum continuing to fill you up until you lean down to kiss his chest tenderly- almost apologetically
âThatâs it, let it all outâ You coo, not moving until his cock twitches with relief
You pull off of him slowly, sighing at the loss of him inside you, and silently stare at him- covered in you from head to abdomen
âColour?â
âGreen.â
You smile lovingly like nothing had happened, finally undoing his cuffs. He rubs his wrists first and then pulls you onto his chest, kissing you tenderly, thumb brushing your cheek
âTastes like meâ You mumble, pulling back to look into his steel blue eyes again, smiling at the colour youâre so in love with
âHope soâ He says, kissing you one last time before sitting up and pulling you up too, already making up his mind âAlright, ass up, letâs goâ He demands, the dynamic switching almost instantly now that his hands are free.
You donât even fight back when he positions you on your hands and knees infront of him, hands bracketing your hips and hips bumping yours, the hem of his dress shirt nudging your back
âAgain?â You tease- gasping when he thrusts into you mercilessly- tip nudging your spot almost immediately making your eyes roll back and mouth stutter with moans
âYes A-fucking-gainâ He hisses out, thrusting fast and hard- dog tag hitting his chest beneath his dress shirt- only slowing once he sees how youâre still twitching from your last orgasm âWhatâs a matter? Canât handle how badly I want to fuck you?â
âBucky-â
â-How I always want to fuck you?â He continues, balls slapping your ass as your head falls forward with pleasure. The way his hands are spreading your ass to watch himself pound into you from behind âHow today has only made me more relentless? How my cock is a fucking sucubuss for your pussy?â
âI thought it was your mouth-â
â-DONâT interrupt meâ He thrusts particularly hard, pulling you up until your back is to his chest and his metal hand is around your throat, not squeezing- only stroking âNot when Iâm reminding my wife how badly I need herâ
You babble out a moan as he kisses your neck. Hands moving to knead your breasts as he thrusts into you slowly, your hips rolling in time with his own. His cock fills you perfectly at this angle, too nudging your spot with every thrust, fingers brushing over your nipples making them sensitive and hard
He cums inside you again after a few more minute of thrusting and groaning into your skin, and you cum too- moaning softly and letting your head fall back to his shoulder, breaths mingling and his chest heaving against your back
He lets you collapse forward slowly, hands steadying you as he falls beside you too, kissing your forehead softly. His lips trailing along your face, hands holding you close as if apologising for how he took you. He only pulls out of you when you smile and quickly gets up to walk away.
He opens the drawer beside your bed, smiling to himself at his dress shirt heâs still wearing, slowly pulling it off and setting it aside on the floor revealing his shiny dog tag. He watches as your panties fall out of his pocket and canât help but smile to himself at how quickly they were taken off after just having given them to you
He pulls out a box and lies back beside you, handing it to you with a kiss to your knuckles, thumbs stroking your wrists so tenderly it feels feather light
âWhatâs this?â You ask, sore but satisfied, looking at your husband with a smile
âAnniversary giftâ He murmurs affectionately, completely and utterly ruined and so dangerously in love âYou okay?â He asks and you nod which makes him sigh with relief.
Opening it- your breath hitches at the diamond necklace inside, steel blue gem in the middle, delicate and immediately you know Buckyâs chosen this because he knows how much you love and adore the colour of his eyes- his Henleyâs and the handcuffs, the ocean, the sky and the colour of his suits. All blue- all things that remind you of him.
âI love youâ He murmurs, already moving to clasp the necklace around your neck. Leaning down to kiss between your breasts and then the necklace itself, pulling back to look into your eyes âHappy anniversary doll, you look so fucking breathtakingâ
âHappy anniversaryâ You smile, one hand moving to the necklace and the other over his heart.
His eyes never leave yours, and you know now that blue isnât just a rising favourite. It is your favourite of all time. Your forever feeling and favourite flavour. Because itâs all him. Steel blue- a man once who knew only cold and cruelty, now reduced to puppy dog eyes and a wife who would swim across an ocean for him
âThankyou for choosing meâ He says, holding you tighter, kissing you tenderly
âAnytime.â You whisper back against his lips, necklace brushing his dog tag âAny universe.â
