Bark Bark Bucky

✪ Kye ✪ Any Pronouns ✪ Multifandom (with a clear bias) ✪ Find me on: AO3

[joel-meowller]

And lastly, you do what I say, when I say it.

We clear?

[barkbarkbucky]

If I Lose You, I've Got Nothing: TWO

Bucky was only supposed to be gone for a few months. He was supposed to fight, then come back home. Home to me. He didn’t. But fate has a funny way of working out, and seventy years later, nothing makes sense anymore. The only thing that does is that Bucky is still my home.

Pairings: Bucky x Fem!OC

General Tags: BuckyxOC, Lovers to Strangers to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, No use of y/n, POV First Person, Bucky Barnes uses Doll as a Pet Name

Words: 1.8k

Chapter 2 on AO3

ONE ★ TWO

Chapter 2: Enemies

Bucky's POV

I silently watch Violet stumble over her words as she attempts to make an excuse to leave. The three of us look confused by her abrupt departure, the sudden panic in her voice. I thought it was going fine, we were sitting with a drink, talking, in each other's company, and-

“Alright, Barnes, what did you do?” Tony interrupts my train of thought, glaring at me as he takes a sip of his drink.

I glare back at Tony, slightly offended by his words. “And what makes you think I did anything, Stark?”

“Hmm, let’s think… maybe the fact that Violet, usually one of the most composed people in this compound, just rapidly left the room whilst not being able to get a sentence out. And I know that she has never acted like that around me. So, call me a conspiracy theorist, but I think that has something to do with you. Care to elaborate?”

I run a hand over my face, quietly sighing into my palm. He’s right. I know he is. And, God, do I hate it when he’s right. “I didn’t do anything, Stark,” I grumble, taking a sip of my drink—completely useless. Damned super soldier serum. “Or nothing of significance at least…”

“So there is something,” Tony points out, that stupid cocky smirk returning to his face. My jaw clenches as I hear the amusement in his voice, and I know he’s enjoying the thought of having more drama in the compound.

“Come on, Buck. Give us something to work with,” Steve, the peacemaker he is, stops us from getting off topic before we can.

I stay silent for a moment, placing my drink back onto the countertop, trying to process what happened moments ago. “I don’t know what happened. We were fine before you two turned up. Well, civil enough. We were talking, sharing a drink together. I didn’t do anything that could’ve made her react like that…” I slowly trail off, remembering the way Violet's side lightly grazed mine when we were forced to sit closer together, the way my heart rate accelerated as I felt her warmth against me for the first time in seventy years. That can’t be the reason; she’s too composed and closed off for something that small to bother her.

Tony, for once, doesn’t push for more. “You don’t want to tell us the whole story, or what happened before we returned? Fine. But maybe one of us should go and check on Violet. You know, check she isn’t destroying my lab.”

Tony and Steve look at each other, almost as if having a silent conversation with just their eyes. I look between them, trying to understand what they are saying to each other. I don’t like the idea of Violet leaving so abruptly and having to be alone like that. “Yeah, I suppose someone should go and check on her, make sure she’s alright, you know…”

Steve looks at me like he wants to slap the back of my head. I don’t understand why, I thought they’d want me to agree— “Christ, Bucky, Stark means you. You should be the one to go and check on her.”

I scoff at his words, giving him a look that says ‘You can’t be serious right now’. “Me?! Oh, come on, Steve, what good am I going to do? If I’m the one who caused her to run like that, I doubt she’d be happy seeing me in her space in the lab. I never go into the lab, and everyone knows that. She wouldn’t want me there.”

"Well, if she’s upset with you, maybe it's best for you to talk it through with her.”

Tony nods in agreement at Steve’s words. “Yeah, and if that doesn’t work, at least there will be some drama to keep the rest of the team entertained for a while. Because we all know you two are the epitome of miscommunication,” he mutters the last bit under his breath, but he wasn’t trying to hide what he said, because I understood clearly.

I glare at Tony, ready to argue with him, but the look Steve gives me makes me pause. I take a deep breath. I know he’s right. If Violet’s upset with me, I should at least go, find out why, and see if I can fix it. And it gives me a good excuse to leave and not have to listen to Tony’s sarcasm anymore. “Alright, I’ll go and see if she’s okay. Purely for the fact that I don’t need you or anyone else gossiping more than you already do.”

To no one's surprise, Tony almost looks disappointed. “Well, I guess I should be happy that he wants to talk it out with Violet.”

I notice Steve rolling his eyes at Tony, and I’m glad I'm not the only one annoyed with his sarcasm.  “And Buck, maybe she’s not mad at you. Have you even considered that yet? Maybe you just caught her off guard when you said something or did something, as incomprehensible as that sounds, but considering your ‘relationship’ back in the ‘40s, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Steve mumbles towards the end.

My best friend’s comment makes me pause. I think about earlier and what I could’ve done to make Violet react like that. But what catches me off guard is the mention of the ‘40s. There’s been a silent understanding between us to never talk about what existed between Violet and me back then. Well, until now that is. “What exactly do you mean by that, Steve?”

“This is a form of torture,” Tony grumbles as he reaches for the bottle of alcohol, filling his glass to the brim. Reassuring. “Do we have to spell everything out for you?”

Steve gives Tony a warning look, silently telling him to watch his sarcasm. “All I’m saying is that, back in the ‘40s, you two were smitten with each other. So much so that almost everyone in town knew you were dating. Maybe she’s just scared of getting her hopes up that things could return to what they were like between you two, considering how much you’ve changed since then, after what the war and Hydra put you through.” Steve looks nervous whilst saying this, almost as if he’s struggling to word the situation properly.

“You can’t be serious, Steve. Violet? Scared of her feelings for me? She ran out panicking because of me? That’s bullshit, and you know it. She doesn’t care what people think of her. She says what’s on her mind. She doesn’t panic over feelings.” I shake my head in disbelief, almost laughing at the absurdity of Steve’s suggestion. I look between Steve and Tony, feeling more and more frustrated and… something else I can’t quite place.

I notice the panicked look Steve exchanges with Tony, and it only serves to piss me off more. It’s almost like they think I’m going to snap at them… or there’s more that they aren’t telling me. “Steve… you better start talking, or so help me…”

“Okay, look, I’m not supposed to tell anyone this. Most especially, you,” he says to me, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “So, we’re going to keep this between us three because if Violet finds out I told you… Well, I don’t want to find out what she would do. Understood?”

He waits for both Tony and me to agree before continuing, “Right, well, after what happened back in the war, what Hydra did to her, and what she did for Hydra, she’s terrified of what your perception of her is. So, yes, I think that she’s scared of what you think about her because she doesn’t even know what you think about her. You both have zero communication skills left, apparently, and neither of you know how to express yourselves to each other.” He downs the rest of his drink, placing the empty glass back onto the kitchen island before standing up and pacing around the kitchen.

I have to physically stop my jaw from dropping at this revelation. But once the initial shock wears off, I’m pissed. I stand up, stepping up to Steve, stopping his pacing. My jaw's clenched, and it takes a lot for me not to yell at him. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me any of this before, Steve?” I ask through clenched teeth, my body tense, my hands curled into tight fists.

Tony immediately stands up, stepping between Steve and me, arms stretched out, keeping us apart. “Okay, before one of you gets punched.” He looks at Steve, clearly meaning him. Which is ridiculous, because I wouldn’t punch Steve… I don’t think. “How about we just move away from each other, just a little bit?”

Steve hesitantly takes a step back from me, audibly sighing and runs a hand over his face. “Listen, Buck, it's not that I wanted to keep this from you, it's just… You were going through a lot yourself, so I didn’t see the point in burdening you further. Besides, you’re barely talking to Violet anyway. And she made me promise not to tell you, and in that moment, I didn’t want to know what she would do to me if I told you. She can be… intimidating to say the least.”

I don’t bother to hide my anger now; a muscle in my jaw ticks. “You’re telling me that you didn’t tell me about Violet because you didn’t want to burden me? That’s bullshit, Steve.”

Steve’s frustration begins to grow. It’s evident in the way his arms cross over his chest, and he takes another step back, increasing the distance between us. “Well, what would you have done, Buck? You had your own issues, and so did Violet. You know how hard it is to get her to say anything about how she’s feeling, the way she bottles it up and keeps it to herself so she doesn’t ‘inconvenience’ anyone.” His voice begins to rise, and I hate the tone he uses when talking to me. “I’m surprised she even told me this. And it’s not like you’ve been straightforward with her. You wouldn’t even have a full conversation, expecting her to do all the talking. So, tell me what I was supposed to do?”

My temper flares at his words, my own voice rises to match his. “I don’t care, Steve! You should’ve told me. You know I still care, I would’ve appreciated knowing so I could deal with her problems. So I could deal with her!”

Only when I finish snapping at him do I realise that Steve isn’t listening to me, and Tony is staring at the doorway. My heart hammers against my chest, and my stomach drops. My anger immediately dissipates, and it’s replaced with an overwhelming amount of guilt when I see what they’re looking at. Violet.

[joel-meowller]

[barkbarkbucky]

These are so cute 🥹

[barkbarkbucky]

If I Lose You, I've Got Nothing: ONE

Bucky was only supposed to be gone for a few months. He was supposed to fight, then come back home. Home to me. He didn’t. But fate has a funny way of working out, and seventy years later, nothing makes sense anymore. The only thing that does is that Bucky is still my home.

Pairings: Bucky x Fem!OC

General Tags: BuckyxOC, Lovers to Strangers to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, No use of y/n, POV First Person, Bucky Barnes uses Doll as a Pet Name

Words: 1.4k

Chapter 1 on AO3

ONE ★ TWO

Chapter 1: Never Not

Violet's POV

Finally, the Avengers complex to myself. With the team out on a mission, I was finally able to enjoy a bit of time to myself without their eyes constantly tracking my every move. Well, as free as I can be with JARVIS still keeping tabs on me.

There’s a bit of time before they return, so I rush down the stairs, humming to myself, with one destination in mind—the kitchen. I've been craving a sweet treat all day, and I’ve been thinking about making brownies for weeks, but I've never had a moment when the kitchen would be empty.

Just as I turn the corner, I see him. Grumpy as ever, glaring as usual.

“Oh, umm- hey…” I stutter, my excitement of having an empty kitchen gone, a heavy atmosphere falling over us. And all I get from him is a single eyebrow raise. I don’t need anything else to know he’s asking me what I’m doing here, and that he’s evidently annoyed.

“Sorry, I didn’t think there was anyone still here. I thought you—well, everyone, really—was out. Doesn’t matter. I’ll leave you to…” I never really know what Bucky does. He tends to just… be there, “carry on with whatever it is you are doing.”

As I’m turning to leave, my mind already working to make new plans on what I can do today, he interrupts my thoughts.

“Wait, Violet,” his voice, low and gruff, making me turn back to face him. Something so familiar, but feels so foreign at the same time.

Before I can do anything, he gestures to the empty chairs at the kitchen island next to where he is sitting.

I should say no. I should make up any excuse. Tell him my fish just died and I need to hold a very elaborate funeral and mourn the loss of Sir Goldie the Third- Yeah, no, who am I kidding? I don’t have a fish, and he knows that.

I bite the inside of my cheek as I head closer to the kitchen island, taking a seat furthest from him, which, considering how big the kitchen is, isn’t very far and only allows one seat between us.

His gaze lingers on me for a moment, giving me a quick look up and down, and his eyebrow raises. Instinctively, that makes me look down at myself. Now, whether he gave me that eyebrow raise because of my mismatched pyjama top and shorts or because of my choice of seat, I’ll never know. But either way… rude, much?

He reaches out for the whiskey bottle sitting in front of him, finishing the remaining liquid in a single large chug.

“Could’ve saved some for me,” I murmur sarcastically. I’m not really expecting a response from him, maybe a glare or a grunt—that’s all he seems to be giving me these days. But when I see the faint smirk pulling on his lips, I’m almost proud of myself.

Bucky sets the empty bottle back down onto the table, his eyes never leaving mine. “Maybe if you asked nicely, I would’ve shared it with you.”

I raise a brow at his words. ‘Nice’? Seriously? He’s telling me I should be nice. “Oh, really? And why would I have done that for an almost empty bottle of whiskey?”

The corner of his mouth twitches up, clearly not expecting a sassy comment from me, but he’s amused nonetheless. “You know, I remember you being a lot sweeter.”

“Well,” I sigh, standing up from my seat, walking around the kitchen island to a cupboard where Tony keeps his alcohol. “Clearly, things have changed, and you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” I grab two glasses from another cupboard and pour us each a glass, sliding one over to him.

I notice the way Bucky’s smirk falters slightly, but I choose to ignore it and pretend that I didn’t notice.

Bucky’s fingers wrap around the glass, bringing it up to his lips. “Being a brat isn’t going to get you very far,” he mumbles into the glass before taking a sip.

“Well, it’s gotten me this far, and I’d like to see how far it’ll get me.” I walk back around the kitchen island. But instead of sitting back in the seat I was in earlier, I take the one directly next to him, significantly closer than I was before. Why I chose to sit that close to him, I don’t know. Should I sit this close to him? Absolutely not. But it’s Bucky, and he always makes me do irrational things, hence why I’ve been avoiding him for months, ever since I’ve been brought to the compound.

His eyes follow my every movement. His smirk returns, and he turns to face me full on. I am painfully aware that our knees are almost brushing against each other, but his words catch me off guard. “Be careful what you wish for, Violet. Your words might come back to bite you one day.”

Before I get a chance to respond, there’s a commotion in the hallway outside the kitchen. It doesn’t take a genius to know that the rest of the Avengers have returned from whatever mission they were assigned.

There goes my free time.

I shuffle my stool back from Bucky, creating more space between us, just before Steve and Tony walk in. “Hey, Steve. How did your mission go?”

“Not bad. It was just a quick job. Probably would’ve been quicker if Tony wasn’t adamant about making a show of everything,” he grumbles, giving Tony a pointed look.

Tony gives an unamused scoff in response to Steve’s words. “I do not 'make a show of everything'. I just make sure we look cooler and keep everything more exciting. Wouldn’t want Barton falling asleep halfway through the mission, now, would we?”

Steve rolls his eyes at Tony’s sarcasm, clearly losing his patience after being stuck with him all day.

“And what are you two up to?” Tony asks, completely ignoring Steve’s eye roll, looking between me and Bucky instead. “I wasn’t aware you two knew how to communicate with one another.”

I can feel my cheeks heating at Tony’s words, and quickly get up from my seat to grab two more glasses. “Just having a drink. Care to join?”

Steve raises an eyebrow, unamused and knowing that there must be something more to it than ‘just a drink’. “At eleven in the morning?” Steve asks, whilst Tony responds at the same time with an enthusiastic, “absolutely.”

As I pour Tony and Steve a glass each, Tony brings the empty stools closer together into a circle. I don’t doubt that it was intentional because the chair they left for me is closest to Bucky. So close that my side presses against his. My posture is stiff, and from what I can tell, Bucky’s also uncomfortable. But then again, he always seems to be somewhat uncomfortable with me. So much so that he usually makes excuses to never be in the same room as me. Today seems to be the exception.

The three of them talk amongst themselves, but I zone out almost immediately. I take small sips of my drink despite knowing it won’t do anything to me, and sit silently as they talk. My mind is a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. This is the first time I’ve touched Bucky since we were last together. Properly. First time since the 1940s, before everything went to shit. Back when it was ‘Bucky and Violet.’ Back when it was simply us. Back when we were perfect for each other and we weren’t broken.

I feel overwhelmed. This is too much: being around Bucky, pretending that there wasn’t a history, pretending that there isn’t something. I abruptly stand up, placing my drink down onto the kitchen island with more force than necessary, causing all eyes to turn to me.

“You alright, Katniss?” My focus snaps to Tony as he calls me by that nickname. He gave it to me, saying something about my aim and my personality being ‘prickly’. I still don’t know who ‘Katniss’ is to this day.

“Yes, perfectly fine.” The words rapidly stumble out of my mouth, and I hate that Bucky is the cause of that. “Just had an- umm… idea for a- uhh… project. I’m just going to… head down to the lab.” I quickly turn, leaving the kitchen to hurry down to the lab, needing as much space from them—Bucky, more specifically—as possible.

CHAPTER TWO

End Notes: I have never written before, and I have no idea what I’m doing. English and creative writing have never been a strong point of mine, but I've had so many ideas in my head, and I really want to learn and improve my writing.

[rogersrival]

that pose is everything