Hiii I was thinking an angst thing about loki accidentally hurting reader with his magic? Or something similar? Have a good day!!
Please Forgive Me
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: As an analyst, you're not even supposed to go on missions but when Fury & Steve decide you are needed in the field, Loki accidently volunteers to train you. Despite your best efforts, your crush on the God of Mischief grows and when he finally tells you that you're ready to go with the team, you're filled with nervous excitement. Loki makes you promise you'll stay close to him but his desire to protect you from danger leads to you being injured by his magic.
A/N: Thank you so much for sending in this request! I love a good angst fic! Sorry it took so long for me to write it. It also got away from me a little (a whole lot actually) and I made it about three times as long as I meant to. I hope you like it! 💚
"Congratulations captain, this might be the most absurd plan you have ever come up with," Loki says with an eye roll as he leans back in his chair across from you.
You feel yourself shrinking, trying to be invisible as you sit between Natasha and Clint. Your eyes focus on your open laptop. The notes you had been taking stop mid sentence, leaving off exactly where Captain Rogers announced you were expected to join the team on the next mission. There's no way I should be doing this. I honestly don't think I've ever heard a worse idea in my entire life. I know it and so does the God of Mischief, you keep your anxious thoughts to yourself.
"None of us can access the computers as quickly as Y/N can. And that's not the only issue, one misstep and all the data on those hard drives will be wiped, we can't risk that," Natasha explains calmly.
"Nat's right, we can't complete this mission without Y/N," Clint says, the conversation continues as if you're not in the room and you wish you weren't. "Normally we could just mirror the drives or physically remove them but we can't, they need to be accessed on site."
You bite your lip, trying to find a flaw in their assessment of the situation but you can't find any. This is what I get for being SHIELD's top expert in Hydra's overly complicated computer system. I thought it was a good thing when I figured out how to extract files without triggering their firewalls but it seems like it's working against me now, you think. I guess my boss was right, I really should have gotten around to teaching other analysts to do this too because now they're going to send me to a freaking Hydra base in the middle of nowhere. You sink further down in your chair and debate escaping from the conference room, your eyes drifting towards the door. There's no way I'd make it anyways, every single person in here is faster than I am, you give up on that idea quickly.
"What's your plan then?" Steve asks Loki, folding his arms across his chest.
Your attention is now completely focused on Loki, curious to hear if he actually has a plan but he's still staring down Steve. The Asgardian doesn't look in your direction once, almost at if he doesn't realize your sitting directly across from him. "My plan remains the same, leave her here so she doesn't get herself killed," Loki says and you're quick to note that there's no concern in his tone.
He's not worried for my safety, he's simply stating a fact. I've never been in the field before, never held a gun, never learned to fight and why would I need to? I spend my days as far away from danger as possible, tucked behind a desk in my office on the 73rd floor, you think.
"She won't get killed," Steve says matter of factly but you're not sure you believe him anymore than the god does.
"And you can guarantee her safety?" Loki asks again without even a hint of worry. "You cannot simply send a civilian into an active Hydra base and assume they will not be injured or worse. She needs training-"
His words are cut off suddenly by director Fury who is sitting at the opposite end of the oval table. "That's an excellent idea your highness," he says with a sarcastic tone that makes you nervous and Loki wary.
"What is?" the younger Asgardian furrows his brow and looks at the director. You sit up straighter in your seat, unsure if Fury is on your side or not.
"You're right, Y/N needs field training," he says and you look from Fury back to Loki quickly as your eyes widen when you realize what he means. "You have one month to get her ready, we can postpone the mission until then."
"Wait!" Loki stands in response, ready to argue. "That is not what I was suggesting-"
"This sounds exactly like what you were insisting on," Thor smiles as he stands from his seat next to Loki, patting his younger brother on the back.
"I was not offering to do it myself," Loki argues, pulling away from his touch.
"I think you were," Natasha smirks.
"No, this is absurd," Loki groans. "I do not have time for this mortal-"
"Then make time," Fury says in a tone that leaves the god no room for further arguing.
Loki sighs deeply in defeat as he sits back down, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes drop to his coffee mug. After a brief moment of silence, he lifts his head and looks directly at you for the first time since the meeting began. "Seven o'clock in the East training room tomorrow morning," he states. You nod and he adds sternly, "Do not be late Y/L/N."
(The next morning - evaluation day)
You walk quickly down the hall towards the training room Loki reserved for you this morning having no idea what to expect. You're almost ten minutes early but you could barely sleep and you're terrified of how Loki might react if you are even a few minutes late. Pushing open the heavy metal door, you pause when you see Loki leaning against a nearby wall reading a thick leather bound book.
"Oh, good morning," you say. You didn't think he'd already be here and you attempt to sound cheerful and not overwhelmingly nervous.
The prince looks at you silently, checks his watch then nods seemingly in approval of your timing. The book vanishes into a haze of green mist and he takes a step towards you. "It's good to see you can tell time at the very least Y/L/N," Loki says.
"Y/N is fine," you tell him, trying to ignore what might be the closest thing to a compliment you get from him today.
He looks at you for a moment and you can't read his reaction to you at all. Today is going to be the longest day of my life, you think as you follow him to the center of the empty room.
"Wow," you mumble, you've never seen the training rooms before but you heard they held some of the most impressive technology in the Tower. The large space is covered in what appears to be simple white tiles, the floor, the walls and even the ceiling. The holograms created by the computer program can mimic any setting or environment, even weather conditions. Your eyes travel up to the high ceiling and you bump into Loki after not realizing he stopped walking.
He lets out a deep sigh in annoyance and you apologize, "I'm sorry."
"After you complete the simulations today, I will determine how many times a week we will need to meet and how long the training sessions will be," he says without acknowledging your apology.
You bite your lip anxiously, "So today is a test?"
"Yes, I need to evaluate your current abilities," Loki confirms.
"In that case, I have a really bad feeling we're going to be spending a lot of time together," you mumble when he walks towards the door leading to a side room for observation.
"As do I Y/L/N," he agrees even though you thought he was too far away to hear you. The God of Mischief goes into the observation room and you watch him through the glass that separates you. He takes a seat at the desk and turns on the computers, the lights around you dimming slowly.
"Hey, before we start I just wanted to say thanks," you say and Loki lifts his head, looking at you through the window. "I know you didn't really volunteer but you were the only one who seemed... concerned," you know that's not the right word but it's all you can think of at the moment, "about me going on the mission."
"The super soldier sometimes forgets how weak humans truly are," Loki responds, his voice coming through the speakers into the room.
"Yeah... well," you shrug. "Thanks anyway, I don't actually want to die out there," you laugh awkwardly.
Loki's quiet and you sigh, not expecting him to respond but after a few seconds he says, "You are welcome Y/N."
You smile, hoping the fact that he called you by your first name means he might be warming up to you just a tiny bit. Only a second later, the lights go out completely, your heart suddenly racing as you realize the evaluation has started and you have no idea what's going to happen.
(One month later)
You duck low as a series of bullets fly towards you, hitting the car you're using as cover. Swearing under your breath, you sit up, pressing your back against the car then stand as you turn, returning fire. Each bullet hits it's mark, taking out all three Hydra soldiers and clearing your path. You stay low, your eyes scanning the debris that litters the street as you make your way quickly around the bullet riddled car. You spot another soldier just as he steps out from behind an overturned bus. You fire first, taking him out easily then you run towards the brick building across the street and head through the open door.
As soon as you step over the threshold you squint, shielding your eyes with your hand as everything around you becomes almost blindingly white. The sounds of the harsh wind and distant sirens vanish as suddenly as the unpleasant smells of smoke and blood. You lower your hand, smiling as the training program is fully turned off and Loki walks towards you.
"So... how did I do?" you ask, hopeful as always to have his approval after a training session.
"Very well, darling," Loki smiles warmly at you.
You can't help but blush at the pet name he started using just a few days ago. The first time the annoyingly handsome God called you darling wasn't even in the training room. You were sure you misheard him say 'have a good evening darling' when you stopped by his office briefly with a question but he continued to use the pet name each time he saw you after that.
"I have good news," he tells you while he follows you to get your water. "I think you are officially ready to join the team on the mission."
You take a long drink of water then look at him stunned. "Really?" you ask excitedly.
"You passed every assessment I have thrown at you for the last week," he confirms with a proud smile. "I am no longer worried you will get yourself killed," he laughs a little.
You smile wide, "You know what that means right?"
He sighs deeply. "You truly mean to hold me to that?" he asks, sounding annoyed by the bet you insisted on two weeks ago but you know him better than that, or at least you hope you do.
"Aww don't pretend like you're not super happy about this," you laugh and hold your arms out wide. "You agreed, if I passed your silly little evaluation I got a hug."
"It is not silly," Loki says and you continue to smile at him, your arms still open. "Fine," he caves as he walks up to you, "but this stays between us."
You can barely contain your excitement when he steps close to you and accepts your hug. You had brought up the deal as a joke after watching Loki's pained reaction to Thor trying to give him a hug. You never honestly expected Loki to agree to it and you definitely didn't think he'd actually follow through with it. Now that the moment is finally here, you really don't want him to let go any time soon because you know you might never get another hug.
"This is nice," you tell him, resting your head on his chest as his arms close comfortably around you.
He doesn't respond but you can tell by the way he breaths deeply that he doesn't hate this type of affection as much as he claims to. After much longer than you expected, Loki finally clears his throat and let's go of you. "That is enough of that," he steps away from you, his eyes lowered as he smooths the nonexistent wrinkles from his black dress shirt. You watch him closely and when he looks up, you can see the smile he's fighting to hide.
"When do you think the mission will be?" you decide not to tell Loki that hug was better than you had imagined.
"I will let Fury and Rogers know you are ready at our afternoon briefing," he says. "We could be sent out as early as tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" you ask, your nerves creeping in suddenly. Surviving the training was one thing but actually going on a mission is still a scary thought.
"You will be fine darling," Loki reassures you. "I would never tell the director you were ready if you were not."
"Cause you're worried about me dying," you tease, both of you knowing Loki is in this position because he pretended to be concerned for your safety.
He rolls his eyes at you, "I will neither confirm nor deny that I do not wish for you to die while on the mission."
You giggle, "You always say the sweetest things."
Loki laughs at that, shaking his head lightly as he walks towards the door. You follow closely and pick up your gym bag. He opens the door for you and just before you step into the hallway you say, "I really hope I don't disappoint you when we do finally get to the base."
"You couldn't possibly disappoint me darling," Loki smiles warmly at you.
"That's not what you said a few weeks ago," you remind him, trying not to focus on how much larger his smirk gets when he sees you blush.
"I have been known to be wrong once or twice in the last thousand years," he admits as he steps out into the empty hallway. "But that stays between us."
"Like the hug?" you ask with a giggle.
"What hug?" Loki says before turning to walk in the opposite direction you need to go in.
(Three days later)
You take a deep breath as the target location comes into view, the jet's radar beeping to alert everyone that you're entering the drop zone. Loki sits next to you, squeezing your hand gently, sensing your anxiety rising. He leans close so the others can't hear and whispers, "You are going to be fine. Stay close to me darling."
You nod, thinking back to Loki's promise this morning after the final briefing for the mission. He told you he would keep you safe and in return, he made you promise to stay near him. A few weeks ago, you never would have believed Loki's promise but today you trust him completely.
The pilot gives everyone the signal to get ready and you stand up, following the prince as he walks to the back of the jet. The door opens and a rush of cold wind whistles through the jet. You take a step backwards, your back bumping into Loki's chest as you watch Steve, Natasha and Clint jump to the ground far below.
Loki gently puts his hands on your arms, turning you so you are facing him without a word. There's a small smile on his face when he tugs on the straps of the bag containing your parachute, tightening them slightly then his eyes scan your uniform and belt to make sure all of your gear is in place.
"Just like we practiced darling," he smiles encouragingly, his hand resting lightly on your cheek so you are looking directly at him. "Then wait for me so we can go to the computer lab together," he reminds you again. For a brief moment, you think Loki might lean down and kiss you but instead you tell yourself now isn't the time for your crush on him to surface. He lowers his hand and you can't help but instantly miss his touch.
With another deep breath, you smile at him and nod your head. "I've got this," you say, your nerves calming as you become more confident. You've been working so hard to get to this point and it's finally here. In the last three years of working for SHIELD, you never once had a desire to be in the field but now that you're here, you want to prove to yourself and everyone else that you can do more than just sit behind a desk.
There's another reason you need this mission to go well, you want to make Loki proud of you. He spent so much time with you over the last month, helping you in session after session. Coming in early before his meetings, staying late at night, finding time on the weekends to make sure you were as ready as possible. The prince even made his own deal with you this morning, he said you could have another hug after the mission and that was all the motivation you really needed.
"Yes you do," he agrees, taking a step away from the door. "Ladies first," he chuckles and you laugh, another bit of tension leaving your body.
You step up to the open door, look at Loki briefly over your shoulder and jump from the jet exactly like he had instructed you to.
(Fifteen minutes later)
You pull the chair out quicky and sit behind the steel desk while Loki stands guard at the door that leads from the main hallway into the lab. There is a second door behind you that leads to a much smaller corridor and the prince keeps his eye on it while you get to work.
"I need about fifteen minutes," you tell the team over the comms as the system reboots.
"Try to do it in ten," Steve responds and you look up in time to see Loki roll his eyes at the sound of the captain's voice.
You fight to hold back a smile. Why does he have to be so cute when he's annoyed, you think. The computer beeps as you type in a command then insert the USB to begin pulling data off the servers.
"It will take as long as it takes captain," the God of Mischief answers for you, his tone firm yet he gives you a smile when your eyes met before you look at the screens again.
You continue to copy file after file to the USB as quickly as you can for the next few minutes. The distant sound of gunfire from above keeps you vaguely aware of where the rest of the team is. Their goal is to distract the soldiers for as long as possible while you finish your work which is thankfully almost done. "Two more minutes," you inform the team over the comms, "just a few more-"
The door behind you slams open, your heart pounds rapidly in your chest as your hand moves to the empty holster on your belt. The God of Mischief yells something but you don't hear the words, rising to your feet to reach for your gun across the desk. You had removed it from your belt and placed it there before crawling underneath the desk to move a few cables right after you arrived. As soon as you are on your feet with your hand on the gun, you see the soldiers rush into the room but in an instant their faces fill with fear and you look towards Loki.
Turning your head, all you see is a bright flash of green rushing towards you as Loki's seider reaches across the room and slams into you.
(Later that night)
You groan and open your eyes slowly, squinting at the sudden brightness around you. A faint beeping in time with your heartbeat fills the room as everything comes into focus after blinking a few times. Pale blue walls surround you, the smell of antiseptic and sanitizer makes you scrunch your nose then it hits you. Oh crap, I'm in the infirmary, you realize suddenly.
"Welcome back," says a friendly voice to your left and you feel the light tug of an IV in your arm when you shift on the bed. You turn your head to face the voice but the quick movement makes you dizzy and you close your eyes again with another groan. "I'll get the doctor, try not to move too fast," the nurse tells you.
Breathing slowly, you feel yourself drifting off to sleep until the door opens and closes again. You open your eyes, forcing yourself to stay awake, you're exhausted but you need to know what happened.
"Hi Y/N, I'm Dr. Palmer," she says, looking up from her tablet. "How are you feeling?"
"Everything hurts," you mumble honestly. Your whole body is sore as you try to sit up a little in the bed. When you put your hands down on either side of you for leverage you look down and see a white cast on your left wrist then look up at the doctor.
"I'm sure it does," she says, looking back down at the tablet to skim your records. "Seems like you were thrown pretty far."
"Thrown?" you ask, rubbing your temple gently when you feel a bit of gauze and wince.
"Careful," she reaches out to lower your hand away from your injury. "I'm not surprised you don't remember the incident."
"The incident?" you repeat her, looking down at your hands as you think and suddenly remember seeing a flash of green light before everything went black. "Loki?" you ask, looking up quickly which causes you to become dizzy and close your eyes again until the room stops spinning.
She waits for you to look at her again before answering. "According to the field report, the room was breached by Hydra soldiers and Loki failed to make sure you were out of the way. He threw the soldiers and you into the concrete wall at the far end of the lab."
You listen to her in silence, pieces of your memory slowly returning. The soldiers were coming... I tried to reach for my gun... no, I had gotten it, I remember feeling the metal grip in my hand... Loki yelled something at me... Loki's magic. You close your eyes tight, pushing away the fear that surfaces with the memory of seeing his seider spreading towards you so fast there was no time to react.
"I remember bits and pieces," you clear your throat and look up at Dr Palmer.
"You're memory will most likely return slowly over the next few days. You have a mild concussion, some bruises, a fractured wrist and several stitches," the doctor informs you. "You'll need to stay here tonight so we can keep an eye on you but you should be able to go home tomorrow. I want you to rest for the next week, then you should be able to return to work."
"Thanks," you mumble, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying the last few minutes of the mission you remember.
Dr. Palmer watches you quietly for a moment then pats your leg gently to get your attention, "Get some rest Y/N. I told the team they can visit you in the morning before you're discharged."
"Thanks," you respond again, barely listening to her. She turns and walks out of the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your mind wanders back to when you first began training with Loki and you wonder if his first impression of you was right, you never should have been in the field.
(One month ago - first day of training)
You slam to the floor hard on your side, groaning in pain as the bright lights come back on and the room resets. "Shit," you mumble when you hear the observation door opening fast enough for it to hit the wall. It's the fourth time in a row you've failed at the same point in the simulation and you don't need Loki to tell you this isn't a good start to your training.
Loki's footsteps are not rushed but the heaviness of his leather boots on the tiles makes you get off the floor much faster than your body wants to. "I'm trying," you say in your defense before he utters a word.
"Not hard enough it seems," he counters in a harsh tone. "Honestly, am I wasting my time Y/L/N?"
You sigh at Loki's use of your last name, the little bit of progress you were making with him yesterday was gone as soon as you failed the simulation the first time. "No," you say, folding your arms over your chest despite how sore your elbow is. "I can do this I-"
"Possibly, if we had several months," he cuts you off, "but we have only one."
"I know," you look at the ground near where you had fallen most recently.
"As heartless as the team thinks I am, I do not actually wish for you to get killed on this mission," Loki says and you look up at him immediately. His expression is stern but his voice softens just enough for you to believe his concern for you might be real. "If you are not capable of succeeding, I suggest we put an end to this now. I do not enjoy watching you continually hurt yourself," he gestures to the bruise already forming on your cheek from a previous fall.
"I can do this, Loki," you tell him, more insistently this time. Sometime between 3 and 4 this morning you decided you were going to get this right no matter what. Your newfound determination was based mostly on your fear of failing but you were also desperate to prove Loki wrong. "Let me try it one more time," you bargain with the prince. "If I don't die in the simulation this time, you keep training me."
"And when you do die?" he asks, already expecting you to fail a fifth time.
"Then you give up on me," you tell him with a shrug. "Tell the director you were right and I'm not good enough to go out in the field."
"Very well," Loki easily agrees to your terms, turning to walk back towards the observation room. You wait for him to wish you good luck or tell you he does want you to succeed but he doesn't say a word. Instead, he simply closes the door to the observation room, takes a seat at the controls and turns the simulation back on.
(Present - the next afternoon)
A knock on the door of the small room sends a wave of hope through you, your heart telling you Loki is finally here to visit you. You know the prince won't come but you can't stop yourself from watching the door as your excitement rises slightly. You had a lot of free time today and you spent most of it trying to figure out why Loki is the only one who hasn't visited yet.
Three potential reasons stick with you, each more upsetting than the last. Your first thought is that Loki is so disappointed in you and he doesn't even want to speak to you. The second idea you reasoned out is that he is too busy gloating and telling the team he was right about you not being capable of succeeding in the field. The third idea is the most hurtful but it's the one you feel is more likely then the others. Loki isn't going to visit because he never actually cared if you got hurt. Calling you darling and seeming like he enjoyed being with you was just an act by the trickster god to get you to train harder, pushing you through pain and exhaustion.
"Hi Y/N," Thor smiles at you warmly when he opens the door and sees you standing by the bed, picking up the bag with your belongings the nurse brought it. "Glad to see you back on your feet so quickly."
"Thanks," you give him the same forced smile you gave Steve, Natasha and Clint when they visited earlier. The three of them stopped by only briefly but it was long enough to reassure them that you were fine. You honestly didn't mind them only staying for a few minutes, you were still tired and it was hard to pretend you weren't let down that Loki wasn't with them.
"Dr. Palmer said I'm doing better than expected so she discharged me," you tell him then walk towards the door.
"Heading home?" he asks, holding the door open for you.
"Yeah, I'll be back in a week," you tell him as you walk through the infirmary together. "Oh, actually I should probably stop by Steve's office before I leave right? I didn't get to write up my report on the mission, obviously, but I can do it from home."
"He already filed the case notes, I just came from the debriefing," Thor informs you.
"Wait, how?" you ask when he opens the door to the infirmary that leads back to the main building. "I thought he needed a report from everyone who was in the field."
"Loki explained what happened," he says, not looking at you as you make your way down the hallway. He sighs, "My brother is on probation again and he's lucky it's only three weeks. Tony was pushing for longer but-"
"Why is he on probation?" you stop walking.
"Because of what happened," Thor says as if that should be obvious. He gestures to your broken wrist, "He could have killed you."
"It wasn't his fault," you defend Loki without even thinking.
"He said it was," Thor starts walking slowly again and you stay with him. "We listened to the recordings of your comms, we could hear Loki yell for you to get down and only a few seconds later we heard him attack the Hydra soldiers and unfortunately you as well. Even if he had not admitted to being at fault, it's clear he did not make sure you were out of harms way before unleashing his magic."
"But that's not what happened," you grab his arm to stop him from walking towards the elevators again and he gives you a confused look. "I heard Loki say something right after the door slammed open but I was distracted looking for my gun. I got up to get it-"
Thor shakes his head, "You got up? You weren't already standing between him and the soldiers?"
"No, I was sitting. I stood up after the door opened, after he yelled," you explain, both of you heading to the elevators.
"And he knew that?" Thor asks, pushing the button on the wall.
"Yeah, he was literally looking right at me when they broke into the room," you tell him remembering the smile Loki gave you when you told them you were almost done. "Steve told me I was supposed to listen to Loki and instead of getting down like he said, I stood up. I got right in the path of his magic."
"Why would he lie about that?" Thor asks when you both get in the waiting elevator, you shrug in response. "This is truly odd. My brother rarely accepts blame for things he has been caught doing," he says, pushing the button to take you down. "I do not understand why he would insist this was his fault if what you say is true."
"I don't know why either but I'm going to ask him," you look up at Thor.
"He is in his room," Thor tells you. "He did not want to speak to me or anyone else after the meeting, I doubt he will come out anytime soon."
"How do I get there?" you've never been to the Avenger's quarters before and you don't want to wander around until you find him.
Thor smiles as he gestures towards the elevator panel and it's then you realize he didn't push the button for the ground floor like you had assumed. "I had a feeling you would want to speak with him," he says.
You walk down the hall, counting doors until you get to the one Thor told you belongs to his brother. Before you can lose your nerve, you clear your throat and you knock loudly. Loki opens the door a moment later and stares at you in silence, clearly not expecting you to have been the one knocking.
"Y/N, what are-" he tries to form a sentence but it dies off when you walk past him into his room without saying a word. He stands at the door watching you take a seat on his couch with a mixture of confusion and anxiousness. Loki closes the door but remains near it, almost as if he's afraid to come too close to you.
"Are you okay?" he asks when you still don't speak. His eyes focus on your broken wrist for a long moment before he sees the gauze covering the stitches on your temple.
"I'm fine," you respond vaguely then ask him what you really want to know. "Why did you lie about what happened?"
"I did not lie, Y/N," he says, still standing by the door. His eyes fall from yours to a space on the floor between you. "I hurt you, I should be help accountable for my actions."
"You know it wasn't your fault," you tell him and he shakes his head. "I wasn't standing in between you and the soldiers until after you warned me, I know you remember that."
"The specifics do not matter," Loki insists.
"Why not?" you ask, standing as you get annoyed with his refusal to answer your questions openly. "Do you think you need to take all the blame because you're the one who said I was ready for the mission? Or do you think you're helping me by trying to hide how stupid of a mistake I made?"
"Please, let it go," the prince says, his back almost against the door as you take a step towards him.
"Let it go, seriously? Loki, they put on probation because we miscommunicated. I can just tell Fury and Steve the truth and then you won't be in trouble," you suggest, feeling guilty that he's been punished.
"It is not necessary," the God shakes his head with no explanation which only annoys you more.
"Loki," you try again, taking a few more steps in his direction. "You just got off probation last year. You shouldn't be back on it cause of-"
"Just stop," his voice is stern you look at him, stunned into silence. He runs his fingers through his long hair and you bite your lip, thinking it was a mistake to come here. "I am sorry I just... Y/N, I have bigger concerns right now than my status on the team. I do not care about the probation."
"What's a bigger concern?" you ask, he finally moves away from the wall, closing the distance between you.
His eyes fall to your cast briefly then he looks into your eyes. Loki sighs, "You are."
"Me?" the word leaves your mouth quickly in disbelief. "If you were so worried, why didn't you visit me? Everyone else did, even Thor came."
"I wanted to but I honestly thought I would be the last person you wanted to see," he gives you an answer that never even crossed your mind.
"Loki, you were the only one I wanted to see," you tell him and now it's the god's turn to look at you in disbelief. You reach out and take his hand, "Every time the door opened, I hoped it was you. I just wanted to see you."
He squeezes your hand gently, "Darling, I am sorry I did not visit."
You can't help but smile a little when he calls you darling. "It's okay," you say but he shakes his head.
"None of this is okay," Loki let's go of your hand then strokes your cheek lightly. "Y/N, I am so sorry for hurting you. I promised to keep you protect you, to keep you safe while we were in the field and I failed to do so, I am the reason you are injured. I can not apologize enough darling. Please forgive me."
"I know you didn't hurt me on purpose," you put your hand over his. "And I promise, I really am okay. It's just a broken wrist and a few stitches, it's not a big deal," you decide to leave out the mild concussion to not make him feel worse. "You can ask Dr. Palmer if you don't believe me," you smile more sincerely than you have all day.
You watch him finally relax as his hand lowers and he smiles a little, "I believe you."
"Good," you sound more excited than you meant to and he chuckles lightly. "And before I forget, you owe me something and I plan on collecting."
"What do I owe you?" he furrows his brow.
"A hug," you smile wider. "You said I could have another one after the mission."
His expression changes quickly, a smile replacing his confusion. "A debt I am more than happy to pay," he says and you giggle.
You don't waste a second, pressing your body against his as you wrap your arms around him tightly. Your cheek rests on his chest and you close your eyes as you relax. He's quiet, one of his hands holding you around your lower back while his other hand moves slowly up and down your back. After a few seconds, you feel him press his lips to the top of your head lightly and blush instantly.
You lean back just enough to look up at him and he smiles but you can almost feel his sudden nervousness. Without thinking, you move and kiss him lightly but as soon as you feel his lips against yours, your body fills with panic. You try to pull away from the hug completely but Loki holds you in place against his body.
"I'm sorry, that was-" you don't look at him, embarrassed that you acted on impulse. You have wanted to kiss Loki for weeks, ever since your crush became more intense but this was absolutely not a good idea.
"You should be sorry darling," he says in a tone you recognize. It was the voice he used when you couldn't help but think he was flirting with you even though you tried to convince yourself he wasn't. You lift your head and look up at him, swallowing nervously when he smirks. "I wanted to kiss you first," the prince explains.
"You wanted to-" you try to repeat his words but they don't make any sense. You put your hands on his chest and distance yourself slightly but he keeps you gently in place. "I'm sorry. I've got a concussion, it almost sounded like you wanted to kiss me first," you giggle awkwardly as you look up at him.
He looks at you with concern, his smile fading quicky, "You did not tell me you had a head injury. Are you certain you should be out of bed?"
"Oh... right, yeah. I guess I left that out. I just didn't want to make you feel any worse but it's fine. It's just like a teeny tiny concussion," you tell him quickly. "Wait... no, don't get me off topic. That's not what I wanted to talk about. Why would you say that? You wanted to kiss me?"
He chuckles, "You are so cute when you are like this."
You blush deeply when he calls you cute and you press your cheek to his chest to hide again. Just a second later, you feel Loki's hand on your warm cheek as he tilts your head up. "You heard me correctly darling, head injury or not," the prince answers your question with another smirk. Before you can respond, Loki bends down slightly, pressing his lips to yours. He holds your body tightly and you give into the kiss easily, closing your eyes as your hands grip the fabric on the back of his shirt.
When he finally pulls back to break the kiss you can't do anything but giggle and he laughs while he plays with the ends of your hair. "So... you think I'm cute?" you ask him.
"I think you are truly stunning and I am amazed by you," Loki says with a smile that causes you to blush even deeper than before. "I had planned on asking you out on a date after the mission, when you came to get the hug I owed you but then I hurt-"
You place a soft kiss to Loki's lips, "Don't you dare blame yourself again."
He gives you a warm smile, "If I keep doing it, will you keep kissing me like that?"
"No," you laugh. "I'll probably tickle you or something."
"I would like to see you try darling," he smirks, taking your hand to pull you towards the couch.
"Oh, I should probably still talk to Steve and Fury," you tell him. "So you're not in trouble or on probation anymore."
"Absolutely not," he sits down and shakes his head.
You sit next to him and he puts his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. "Why not?" you ask as you cuddle against him as if you've done it dozens of times.
"Because now I will have more free time to spend with you," he smiles and kisses the top of your head.
"I do like how that sounds," you kiss his cheek and lean on him comfortably. "Especially since I have the next week off, doctor's orders."
I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
Summary: Having a harmless crush on Bucky Barnes is nothing. The fact that you have to work with him is no big deal! But when Val thinks it would be good PR for him to have a "girlfriend", you definitely don't freak out and say you're already dating. No, you handle it like a professional.
Warnings: language, spoilers for Thunderbolts*
AN: I'm going to be uploading this one every Friday, my goal is to not leave y'all hanging when I'm having ✨uncreative✨ days since I've already got a few chapters lined up lol
Summary: You get insecure about your body. Bucky’s not having that.
Warnings: insecure!reader; body shame; reader is mean to herself (but it’s okay ‘cause our boy makes sure to let her know that her mean thoughts are just bullshit); a tiny bit of angst; Bucky’s just a sweetheart; slightly suggestive at the and (you have to squint though); nothing special just a whole lot of fluff; lmk if I forgot something.
MY BLOG IS +18. MINORS DNI.
WC: 2k
I do not consent to have my fics translated, copied or posted to any other sites/apps. Don’t steal my work.
A/N: this is my first request and I absolutely loved the idea! I hope you like it @chocolateeclairsmoralbackbone <3
If you like my story, please consider reblogging and/or leaving feedback.
Everything started with a simple picture.
Your girlfriends wanted to know about the mysterious guy you’ve been dating for the past year and a half, and you also wanted to tell them, so you all met up for coffee. You didn’t mention the details about who he really is or his past, as he asked you not to, but you told them everything they wanted to know about the relationship – how’d you two met? Is he handsome? How did he ask you out? Are you guys serious? – and the conversation was great.
At some point, one of them suggested you take a picture, since the four of you almost never see each other. You weren’t feeling particularly pretty that day, but you also didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, so you posed for the damn phone.
As you were about to hit the “send” button to show Bucky the picture – ‘cause you two shared photos of everything you did during the day – you hesitated. You couldn’t help but notice how all your other friends looked so much thinner next to you.
I’ll just send the picture later, you thought. Later turned into never.
When Bucky stopped by to pick you up, he instantly noticed your mood, but when he asked, you just shrugged it off.
You’ve never been the “skinny girl,” even when you first met Bucky. But since you started dating him, you did notice a few extra pounds on your body. It became evident as your favorite jeans started feeling snug and some of your old shirts went to the bottom of your wardrobe since they no longer hid the belly that was now more pronounced.
But that picture lingered in the back of your mind, gnawing at your self-esteem and fueling your insecurities. It became a constant reminder of the fact that Bucky, that walking Greek god of a man, could very easily find someone prettier than you.
Your doubts and insecurities grew more and more everyday, causing you to withdraw. You became distant, avoiding Bucky’s touch, covering your body with oversized clothes, never sending him pictures anymore, calling it a night before your kisses and caresses could escalate to a situation where you’d have to be completely exposed to him. None of this went unnoticed by the soldier, but everytime he asked you’d shrug it off as if he was overthinking things.
The breaking point arrived on a particular evening in Louisiana. Sam invited both of you to join his family for lunch, which eventually led to everyone deciding to go for a swim. As you went upstairs to change into your bikini, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection for God knows how long. Your eyes trailed up and down your body, those doubts coming to the surface every time you looked at how your thighs glued together, almost like if they were competing for space, or how your stomach was accentuated by the lack of more clothes, or how the fabric of the bikini was so stretched around your curves that it could easily rip. You didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face until Bucky opened the door, calling for you.
He had noticed something was off a long time ago, but today was even harder for him to let it go. He thought this trip would be good for you, you loved every time he brought you here, but when you barely touched your food and didn’t go play with Sam’s nephews like you always do, he started to worry even more. You, obviously, denied every time he asked if something was wrong. But when you took more than twenty minutes to change into your bikinis, he couldn't take it anymore.
As soon as Bucky opens the door and sees you quickly cover yourself with the beach robe as tears streamed down your face, his heart breaks a little. Coming closer, he asks once again what’s wrong.
“Everything’s fine,” you evade the question one more time, and the way you hunch your shoulders, as if trying to make yourself smaller, makes his chest ache.
His thumbs graze above your cheeks, touching you softly to not startle you. He brushes your tears away, though your eyes remain glossy. Then his fingers trail down your arms until he’s squeezing your elbows, gently coaxing you to let go of the robe and reveal yourself. But you only clutch your fingers tightly to the fabric, denying his silent request.
“You won’t let me see you, doll?” He asks, his voice soft, though you can notice the hurt in his words. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” You reply instantly, biting your lower lip.
He calls your name softly, but you don’t answer. You know you and Bucky promised to always tell each other things, but what if you tell him about your insecurities and he agrees with them? What if finally verbalizing your doubts about your body made him realize all of them are true and then he leaves you?
With a mix of uncertainty and concern, he continues. "Is it me? Am I the problem?"
"What?" Your head snaps towards him, surprise evident in your eyes. "No, you're not– what makes you think that?"
"You've been acting distant lately. You won't let me touch you, or see you. You're always sad," he explains, his words pouring out in a rush. "You've barely looked at me or touched your food today. I know you, I can see something's wrong, but every time I ask you don’t tell me anything." His voice quivers with a mix of frustration and hurt. "Do I not make you happy anymore? Do you want to break up with me? Please, tell me something."
His last words strike a chord within you, awakening a pang of guilt and realization. You’re not sure if it is the sadness in his beautiful blue eyes, the pain in his voice or the raw vulnerability he’s displaying, but something tugs at your heartstrings.
"Bucky, you're not the problem, okay?" you assure him, your voice laced with sincerity and frustration. "It's just... hard to explain."
"Then what is it?" he pleads, desperation seeping into his tone as his hold on your elbow becomes a little stronger, like he’s unconsciously clinging to you. "What's wrong, doll? You're my... you're my everything. Just tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."
“You can’t fix it,” you whisper.
"Try me," he replies without hesitation, you don’t know if it’s out of his natural stubbornness or just his current desperation to make you happy again. Maybe both.
You stop for a moment. How do you even begin?
"It's just... my thighs," you finally managed to utter. You huff, frustrated with your struggle to articulate your feelings.
"Your... thighs?" he repeated, confusion clouding his face for a moment. "Is there something wrong with them?"
"Yes, there is, Bucky! There's something wrong with all of me! I’m fat!" you exclaim, in a lack of words to describe your insecurities. You step away from him and squeeze your eyes shut, wishing you could disappear. "And my thighs are so gross, and my stomach, and... ugh!"
His brows furrow, a mix of concern and confusion etched on his face. Is he really hearing what he thinks he's hearing?
Each word escapes your lips with a tinge of sadness and defeat. "You're so handsome, and your body... I just don't understand why you're with me."
For a moment, Bucky stands there, processing your words. Then, without hesitation, he steps closer to you, his touch once again finding its way to your skin, trailing up and down your arms. "Look at me," he pleads gently, his tone laced with kindness. When you don’t comply, he insists, “baby doll, look at me.”
Reluctantly, you open your eyes, meeting his gaze.
His voice is filled with affection as he whispers, “I love you, all of you.”
A wave of memories floods your mind. You remember the countless times you whispered those exact same words to Bucky, showering him with reassurance when he was still self-conscious about his arm and scars and his past. You remember how you whispered sweet nothings into his ear, slowly crushing his insecurities until he began to believe you. And he remembers it all too, now’s his turn to remind you of his love. He places a tender kiss on your forehead, his lips trailing down to your temple and then your cheek, where he kisses the remaining tears away.
"You want to know why I'm with you?" he asks, a serious undertone in his voice, his eyes sparkling with genuine adoration. "Among other things, because you make me happy. Even when I thought there was no more happiness left for me in this world." Then, a playful smirk tugs at his lips. “And because you're hot."
"Don't lie–" you start to protest, but he interrupts you, pointing out the obvious.
"I'm not lying," his grip on your arms is firm but gentle as he forces them away from your body, allowing the beach robe to open slightly. You open your mouth to protest, but he’s quick to silence you. "Shh. Let me appreciate my girl," he scolds playfully, his eyes roaming all over your body with admiration. "So beautiful. So fucking sexy. Look at you."
A warm flush spreads across your cheeks as Bucky's words sink in.
“I mean, you seriously believe all those mean things you just said about yourself?” He sighs, shaking his head, and then surprises you by dropping to his knees before you.
Bucky Barnes, on his knees, for you.
His hands find their place on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. "You mean this belly right here and those thighs, they're the problem?" he teases, emphasizing his words by holding and squeezing the areas he mentioned.
A mischievous smirk finds its way to his lips. Then, with a mixture of tenderness and playfulness, he starts placing kisses and little bites on your stomach and thighs, eliciting a weak giggle from you. The touch of his lips awakens a warmth within your chest, and for the first time in weeks you feel genuinely loved.
“I think I’ve been doing a poor job as your boyfriend if you think you are anything but the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He says between kisses. “But in case you haven’t noticed,” he squeezes your hips firmly, but not enough to hurt, “these thick thighs, your perfect belly? Those are the best fucking things about you, baby. You have no idea how much I love them,” he affirms, his voice laced with conviction.
You bite your lower lip, finding it hard to completely believe his words.
Getting back on his feet, he cups your face between his hands, demanding your attention, and asks seriously, "you hear me?"
"Yeah, yeah. I hear you," you respond, your voice tinged with the tiniest bit of hope.
"You're perfect. My perfect, beautiful, sexy doll. Alright?" he asserts, his tone gentle yet firm.
You nod, the sadness and the doubts no longer clouding your eyes.
Without any warning, he smacks your ass, and you yelp, your widen eyes snapping at him just to see that mischievous grin playing on his lips.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to show you how sexy you are later. But right now we have a party to go back to, yeah?” He lifts one eyebrow.
You smile at the promise and nod again. Satisfied, Bucky steps behind you, removing your robe. When he’s done, he lightly taps your thigh three times, silently asking you to move. “C’mon, baby, they’re waiting for us.”
As you walk back to your friends, Bucky’s body glued to your back, those insecurities slowly fade away. Maybe you’re not the skinniest of girls, but you know now that the same way you love Bucky’s scars, he adores and cheriches every single curve of yours. And, honestly, that’s what matters to you.
Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 10 (FINAL PART)
Bucky Barnes x Reader
*Read parts 1-9 first for the full effect!*
Summary: Everything is out in the open between you and Bucky now, but there are two rules for your new secret relationship.
Warnings: unprotected sex, teasing, possessive!Bucky (hehehe), maybe fluff (?), profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 2.2k
Author's Note: We've finally reached the end. I think I'll miss this version of Bucky and reader but I'm pretty excited about the work that I'm planning on putting out here next. Hopefully everyone's okay with the conclusion of this, I didn't want to have anyone riding off into the sunset or anything, but I also didn't want to have a horribly sad ending, so this felt right. You guys should totally let me know in the comments what kind of things you'd like to see from me soon! I don't know if I'll take specific requests anytime soon, but I'd love to at least find out what might get you all excited. Thanks for the umpteenth time to @littlemiss-yeehaw for being the best cheerleader and warnings-writer out there. She also draws some unbelievable shots of Bucky based on scenes in these fics.
In the shower, on the hotel bed, in the chair by the window, hell, even on the floor when the two of you rolled off of the bed in the heat of the moment. You’d successfully christened every surface of your hotel room before the clock ever struck midnight. You hadn’t meant to go at it like horny teenagers who found themselves home alone for the first time, but that’s what happened. It’s like you were both thinking about how this may not continue once you get back to the compound tomorrow morning, so you fit as much as you could all in one night.
Now, you’re laying side by side in bed. Your most recent tryst involved you on your hands and knees with Bucky doing all of the right things behind you, and it thoroughly winded you both. You listen as your collective breaths fill the air, the two of you each coming down from your post-orgasmic highs.
“Do you think Dr. Raynor will figure this out?” You ask softly, raising a hand and wiping a bit of sweat from your brow. Bucky laughs and turns his head to look at you. He still can’t get past how pretty you look after doing such dirty, animalistic things with him. Even without the super soldier serum decreasing his refractory period to mere minutes, he thinks he’d be recovered and ready for round five just from looking at you like this.
“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
“It’s on my mind, yeah.” You admit. You’re probably more worried about it than you should be, but deep down, Bucky’s worried too.
“So, how do you want to handle it?” Bucky asks, fully rolling onto his side to face you.
“Maybe we just wait and see what she has to say after observing tonight’s mission and then go from there. I don’t want to say anything first and give her anything to use against us.” He’s listening to your words, honestly, he is. He doesn’t think he could ever miss a word you say. But he can’t stop himself from reaching over and running his fingertips along your flushed cheek. You turn to look at him and his lets his fingers ghost over your lips, down the column of your throat, until he reaches the notch between your collarbones. His eyes linger there for a moment. Something’s missing.
“You never gave me my dog tags back.” He whispers. You’re not wearing them, and neither is he. So, where are they?
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure when to give them back.”
“Bullshit, you wanted to keep them.” Bucky teases. You push his hand away from your neck at the accusation, but can’t stop the smile that’s creeping over your features. Fuck, he’s so into you. He closes the distance between the two of you and places his body carefully over yours under the covers, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Even just kissing you sets off fireworks inside of him.
“They’re sitting on my nightstand, back in the compound.” You tell him, hoping it doesn’t make you sound too obsessed. You had planned to give them back all week, but avoiding him made that a little difficult, so instead you left them sitting beside your bed. It was sort of comforting to see his name every night before you fell asleep, and every morning when you woke up.
“Keep them.” He insists, pressing another kiss to your soft, soft lips. You get lost in the moment, focusing on the feeling of his tongue working against yours, his scent enveloping you in the most consuming way, and his weight keeping you pinned to the mattress. You could stay like this forever.
This, of course, is when Bucky’s phone would ring. He groans in annoyance as he breaks the kiss and touches his forehead to yours, looking down into your eyes.
“Tell me not to answer it.” He pleads. You purse your lips, knowing it’s probably someone from the team calling with some kind of update or new order. Bucky groans again before rolling off of you and snatching his phone off of the bedside table. He answers it and puts it on speaker, confirming that it’s someone from the team.
“Hey, sorry to call so late. The threat has been neutralized so you guys can head back now and get some sleep, we’ll debrief in the morning.” Sam sounds tired but calm, so it must have been more of a nuisance situation than a major threat. Bucky closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with his vibranium hand.
“Sounds good, we’ll be back soon.” He grumbles. You can tell he’s annoyed that you won’t be staying the night here. When he hangs up the call, he lets out a deep sigh before sitting up on the side of the bed, with the covers gathering around his waist. Without thinking, you crawl up behind him and wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him from behind. He stiffens as if he didn’t expect your touch, but that just makes you lean into him more, resting your chin on his shoulder. You feel him slowly relax and having that effect on him warms you to the center of your being
“We’re going to go home, get some rest, and debrief in the morning like this was any other mission.” You say, attempting to be reassuring.
“That’s what you want? To pretend like this was any other mission?” He questions, running his hands over where your arms are wrapped around his abs.
“I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant we don’t have to run in and tell everyone that something might be going on between us.”
“Might?” He chuckles. You feel his abs shake beneath your hands as the melodious sound leaves his lips. You never heard him laugh much before, and you didn’t expect to like it as much as you do.
“Hey, I told you that I fell for you, and you said fuck, I’m cumming. How am I supposed to know you feel the same way?” You tease, letting go of him and laying back on the bed, drawing the covers up over your naked body. He turns a bit to face you and starts pulling the covers away from you slowly.
“Y/n…” He says your name with so much genuine feeling that it sends tingles throughout your body. Has he always said your name like that and you just never noticed before? Yes. “I made you wear my dog tags while I fucked you.” What the hell does that have to do with what you just said? He can see the confusion on your face and it brings a smile to his. He slides back under the covers next to you and begins peppering kisses across your shoulder and collarbone.
“Bucky…” Fuck, if you start saying his name again there’s no way either of you will make it back to the compound tonight. He quickly makes his way up to your face, attaching his lips to yours for a moment and then tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away. It’s the nicest way anyone has ever shut you up.
“I wanted to be able to pretend like you were mine. I fell way before you did.” He whispers against your lips. Holy shit. He feels the same way. Bucky Barnes feels the same way about you as you feel about him.
You know that you have orders to head back to the compound, and neither of you are the type to disobey orders from above, but how are you supposed to pack up and head out after finding out that you have feelings for each other? You can’t stand the thought of traveling back to the compound tonight knowing that you’ll have to put on a show and pretend like nothing happened here. So, why not delay a bit and take what you want one more time?
That very rational thinking is what inspires you to slide your hand between the two of you and wrap your first around Bucky’s already-hardening cock. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your small, soft hand wrapping tightly around him, and he wonders how he went so long without having you this way. You’ve been right across the hall from him all of this time. You’ve been going on missions with him for the last two months, giving each other shit nearly every waking moment, and completely missing what had been there the whole time. Love. He won’t say it out loud yet, he doesn’t want to scare you off, but that’s what it is. He’s sure of it. He loves you. He may not say it but he can damn well express it.
That’s how Bucky finds himself, for the fifth time tonight, guiding the tip of his cock inside of your perfect cunt. He’s done this enough times now that he knows as soon as he bottoms out inside of you, you’ll tense up and scrunch your eyes closed, trying your hardest to adjust to his size. He watches as you do just that, and then he feels your entire body relax beneath him and he knows you’re ready. He pulls one of your legs up and over his hip as he begins fucking you into the mattress. When your eyes flutter open to meet his, he has to go completely still inside you so he won’t cum right then and there. You laugh to yourself. You know what eye contact does to him and you love it.
“What’s the matter, James? Keep going.” You taunt, wiggling your hips and forcing his cock to slide into you another inch. He’s only halfway inside of you. He breathes out a slow, calming breath before leaning down and nuzzling his face into your neck, letting his cock sink into you slower than it ever has before.
“You like rushing me, don’t you?” He asks, giving your cunt gentle thrusts. A soft hum leaves your lips at the pleasure that’s beginning to build in your lower stomach. You’re so focused on the feeling that you don’t even acknowledge his question. “Don’t rush me tonight.” He buries himself to the hilt before stilling once more, drawing a whine from your lips. “We’re making love, not fucking, sweetheart.”
---
A few hours later that same morning, a very uneventful debrief took place in the conference room at the compound. You and Bucky turned in your mission reports, leaving out the details of what happened in the hotel room, and then you were dismissed to have a few hours of freedom before having to meet with Dr. Raynor.
Everyone probably assumed that the two of you went off to your respective rooms upstairs, but it took little convincing to get Bucky to sneak over into yours. When he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, the first thing he noticed was his dog tags, right where you said they were.
You kick your shoes off by the door and walk over to sit on one of the small gray chairs that you have off to the side of the room, feeling surprisingly nervous that Bucky Barnes is seeing your room for the first time. Nervous. After everything the two of you have done this week? You’re ridiculous. You watch him as he crosses the room and scoops the dog tags off of your nightstand. He gazes at them in his palm for a moment, and for a second you worry that he might pocket them. However, when he turns to you with a soft smile and a mischievous glint in his eye, your fears are assuaged.
“Do you have any rules? For this thing that we’ve got going on?” Bucky asks, taking the free chair across from you and setting the dog tags flat on the coffee table separating the two of you. You tilt your head to the side, studying him closely. You see what he’s doing. The first night, while under the influence of that chemical, you gave him one rule: no kissing. He returned with his own rule: wear his dog tags while he fucks you.
“I have one. We keep this a secret, just between us, for as long as we can.” You respond, letting your eyes trail over his physique. He’s sitting in your chair the same way he sat in the chair in the hotel room last night. The man knows how to demand attention without saying a damn word. You watch as his licks his bottom lip and then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of him.
“Fine. It’s a secret.” He agrees, his gaze briefly lingering on your neck. “But I have one rule too.” He reaches out with his flesh hand and begins sliding the dog tags across the table toward you. “You’ll never take these off again.”
Summary: You and Bucky find yourselves stuck in a hotel room for the night after being tailed on the way back to the compound. Your game of teasing escalates to something a little more serious than just a game.
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 2.3k
Author's Note: We're getting very close to the end now. I don't know how I feel about it all yet. Thanks again to everyone who's been liking/commenting on/reblogging this series, your support means so much and I'm truly blown away by the love I've received on here over the last few days. I still don't know how the heck it happened but here we all are. Special thanks again to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with warnings for this series and saving my ass, and also for reading my trash before I post it lmao.
Bucky doesn’t know when he fell for you. He doesn’t know when his feelings of annoyance turned into feelings of near infatuation. He almost wishes he knew the exact moment, so he could use some kind of Stark technology to go back in time and undo it, but he’s sure you’d just as easily make him fall for you again. He sits silently in a chair in your shared hotel room, watching you intently as you make your way over to him. The straps of your dress hang loosely off your shoulders, your breasts are spilling over the top of the fabric and threatening to escape, and your hair is still a little mussed up from the physical demands of tonight’s mission. With all of that in front of him, he still can’t seem to tear his gaze away from your face. The way you smile as you laugh so softly, your lips parting and the corners turning upward just for him, it makes him feel like he’s just coming out of cryo for the first time. For a moment, the game the two of you have been playing all week is totally forgotten by him. He lets himself pretend just for a moment that you belong to him, that you’re here in this hotel room of your own free will, and you’re walking over to him right now as a girl who wants nothing else but him.
“No answer?” You ask teasingly, coming to a standing stop between his legs. Bucky’s tongue flicks out, wetting his bottom lip before sucking it between his teeth and biting down on it. His eyes stray from your face, and he takes a few seconds to admire the entirety of you. You see it this time. The pure adoration in his eyes. He isn’t looking at you with some kind of superficial lust or temporary need. No, he’s looking at you with something that screams commitment. He wants you. He wants you beyond one night in a safe house, beyond one night in a hotel after a mission-gone-sideways. You see it in his eyes and yet, you don’t hear that familiar voice in your head telling you to run for the hills. You feel something between the two of you, tugging you closer and closer.
Bucky realizes he’s been staring. He realizes that you’ve been watching him stare. He should probably say something to answer your question. You asked him if he was still hard. But why answer it out loud when he doesn’t have to? He leans forward in the chair suddenly, trailing his fingertips up the sides of your thighs as he looks up with you. Fuck, when he looks up at you like that you could just melt right into the floor. The room is beginning to feel way too hot, but its contrasting with the cool temperature of his vibranium fingertips on your skin and you kind of like it. Bucky lets his hands slide behind your thighs now, and you know exactly what he’s about to do. You brace your hands on his shoulders as he pulls you forward by his hold on the backs of your thighs, guiding you to spread your legs and straddle his lap in the chair. Every single nerve ending in your skin is on fire, so much so that you hear fire alarms going off in your mind. What the hell are the two of you doing? There’s no chemical influencing you this time, no severe pain forcing you to keep going just to find some relief. So, why are you straddling your almost completely naked partner in a hotel room right now?
Because you fucking want to.
You fully relax on his lap now, and that’s when you feel just how hard he is beneath you. You can make out the outline of his cock as it presses firmly against your still bare pussy. Your panties are still sitting on top of his suit jacket in the bathroom, thankfully. Bucky runs his hands up and down your thighs, his fingertips grazing over the hem of your dress.
“You’re sitting on your answer.” His voice is low and tense, full of anticipation. He knows where he wants this to go, but he doesn’t know where your head is really at right now. Do you want the same thing? Do you want him in the same way that he wants you or are you just playing the game? He’s dying to know, but the man sucks at emotional communication. He’d never outright ask you. Thus, he’s determined to fuck it out of you.
“I am.” You respond breathily. You know you shouldn’t do it, but you can’t help yourself. You tighten your grasp on his shoulders and grind down against his cock, closing your eyes as you focus on how good the sudden friction feels between your legs. As much as he wants to throw you down on the bed and do whatever it takes to make you scream his name, he lets you have control for now. He watches you closely as you continue grinding your wet cunt back and forth along his clothed cock, your face contorting with pleasure, your chest rising and falling quickly as you let out the quietest little moans.
“Is that all you need?” Bucky asks, sliding his hands up until they’re resting on your hips. You want to say yes but fuck it, why lie?
“No…” Your voice comes out soft and gentle. You slow your grinding movements as you lean down and press your lips to his jawline. “I need more.” Bucky clenches his jaw and you feel the muscle there contracting beneath your kisses. Will he give you more? Of course he fucking will. He’ll give you anything.
“You need more…” His voice trails off and you feel his flesh hand leaving your hip, ghosting over your thigh, and finding its way beneath the thin fabric of your dress between your legs. “Here?” He asks, letting his fingertips glide over your clit. You feel the sensitive nerves there igniting and joining the rest of your body in flames. Nodding your head, your grind down against his hand, losing your mind over how good it feels.
“Fuck.” You moan the word out slowly. Bucky’s in heaven. Or almost in heaven. He sits there underneath you, watching as you get yourself off on his hand, using your pretty voice to tell him how good it feels. He’s teetering on the edge of obsession at this point. In one swift move, he steals his hand away from where you need it most and grips your thighs as he rises from the chair. His name leaves your lips in a squeal as he lays you back on the bed, crawling over you so he doesn’t have a chance to miss the feeling of your body against his.
“Have you thought about this as much as I have?” His question alone feeds the fire inside you. You let your hands travel up his sides until they find their way to his jawline, then you pull him down to your mouth. Holy shit. You forgot how good he tastes. You forgot how good he is with his tongue. You refuse to stop kissing him even to take a breath. When he finally pulls back from you, you gasp for air, your cheeks and nose blushing pink as he stares down at you.
“I’ve thought about this every single day.” You admit, trying to pull him back down for another kiss. He fights your advance, and instead pushes himself off of the bed.
“Get up.” He orders you, taking a few steps toward the bathroom but keeping his eyes on you. You prop yourself up on your elbows, narrowing your eyes at him. What the fuck is he up to?
“Was all of that seriously just a tease?” You demand to know. There’s no way he did all of that and he’s just going to walk away from you now, all as a part of that fucking teasing game you’ve been playing all week.
“No, I’m going to fuck you in the shower.” He says plainly, tilting his head toward the door. Your eyes widen as the sound of the running water meets your ears. You totally forgot you left it running a few minutes earlier. He gives you every chance to refuse, but a refusal never once crosses your mind as you push yourself up off of the bed and follow him into the bathroom.
---
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Profanities play on repeat in your mind as you’re pinned against the shower wall, with one of your legs hitched up around Bucky’s hip and his cock driving into you like it’s the first time he’s been with a woman in this century and he’s been starved of pleasure. You’re trying so hard to stay upright against him, but he’s been fucking you so hard for so long that you’re already one orgasm in and he’s yet to come undone inside you.
“I’m not going to let you fall, baby. Trust me.” Bucky whispers against your ear, letting his forehead rest on the tiled shower wall beside your head. How is he always reading your mind? He slows his thrusts and starts focusing on his depth and angle instead of his speed. Suddenly, he hits a spot inside you that has you crying out his name with such desperation that he feels his cock twitch harder than it ever has before. “Shit, I need to hear that again.” He groans, thrusting into you in the exact same way he did a second before. His name begins falling from your lips like a prayer as you pepper kisses across his neck and shoulder. Your second orgasm is closing in when he slows once more, feeling how tight your walls are clenching around him and knowing you’re close.
“Bucky, stop being a tease.” You moan, pushing your forehead against his shoulder in exasperation. He chuckles and it sends a chill down your spine.
“I’m not teasing you. I’m dragging this out because…” He stops mid-sentence to thrust into you, hard. You gasp and bite down on his shoulder before he stills himself again. “I’ve thought about doing this to you the whole damn week.”
“Why didn’t you just do it?” You ask. Why didn’t he? He never once knocked on your door or made a real move. He just teased you and acted annoyed with your avoidance of him all week. “I live right across the hall from you.”
“Fuck, I know. But you’ve been avoiding me, acting like you were scared that I was falling in love with you since that night.” Bucky starts grinding his cock into you in slow circles, just feeling you. His hands are balled up in fists against the shower wall beside your head. Right. You forgot that that’s why he thought you were avoiding him. Truly though, it never really crossed your mind that he might’ve been falling for you. You were just scared that you were falling for him.
“I’m sorry.” That’s the first time he’s ever heard an apology leave your lips, meant just for him. Not that you’ve ever owed him one before, but something about seeing your walls broken down in front of him like this scratches at his heart. He doesn’t ever want to hear you apologize again. Besides, you don’t need to be saying sorry right now. He was falling in love with you. If that’s why you were avoiding him, then you were right, and he didn’t see any reason why you should be apologizing.
“No, no, don’t say that.” He mumbles against your shoulder. He starts thrusting his cock into you with the most shallow thrusts, and it’s driving you insane. What he wants to say next is you were right, I was falling in love with you. But of course, he doesn’t say that. Instead, he straightens up and crashes his lips into yours, saying everything that he wants to say with a passionate, burning kiss. The moment escalates to Bucky holding you up, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and his cock fucking you into the shower wall so hard that you’re seeing stars behind your tightly closed eyes. You lose every inhibition as you climb the mountain to your second orgasm, you lose every fucking thought in your head that would keep you from saying the most vulnerable, revealing thing you could possibly say as you both race toward a breaking dam.
“I’ve been falling since that night.” You say between moans. The words float around the air between the two of you and for a moment, you’re not even sure if they actually came out of your mouth. Your voice sounded so far away when you said it. You expect Bucky to slow down, maybe even to stop fucking you entirely, since you’ve just done the stupid emotional thing and mixed sex with feelings. However, Bucky only speeds up, thrusting into you with so much need and want that his orgasm comes barreling at him before he has a chance to pull out.
“Fuck, I’m cumming.” He groans against your lips, pressing soft kisses against them after the words have left his mouth. He continues to move his hips into you, coaxing your orgasm right to the edge before snaking his hand between the two of you and rubbing small circles against your clit until you cum so hard that he can feel your entire body shaking between him and the wall.
I’ve been falling since that night. Fuck, that’s everything he wanted to hear.
Summary: You and Bucky go on your first mission since the one where you were exposed to the sex pollen. Only this time, you have a professional babysitter observing you both and a game that neither of you is willing to stop playing.
Warnings: mentions of previous smut and prelude to upcoming smut, profanity, teasing, brief mention of drug use as an analogy, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 6.3k
Author's Note: Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for giving this a read earlier today and convincing me not to scrap it, and for going back through my blog and listing out the warnings that I might've been missing. A true angel.
It’s been 7 days since your chemically-induced lust-filled night with Bucky in the safehouse. 7 days since he had his hands on you, since he was inside you, since he last kissed you. It’s been 4 days since your first partner talk session with Dr. Raynor. 4 days spent wondering what might happen if she comes to a sure conclusion that the two of you really did have sex that night. Will she suggest to Fury that your partnership be terminated? Will she spill the secret to the rest of the team? You don’t even know what you want the outcome to be, but thinking about it puts you on edge.
Meanwhile, you and Bucky have been playing a very dangerous game. After that tense moment in the gym showers on Monday evening, you had a fairly normal team dinner upstairs. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Until the dinner turned into everyone piling into the main living area to watch some movie that Sam insisted was an absolutely necessary nightcap. Somehow, you ended up seated next to Bucky on one end of the sectional. You did a great job keeping your focus on the movie for the first thirty minutes. It wasn’t until Bucky very intentionally manspread on the couch that you felt like you were going to be needing an emergency exit. He made sure that the side of his thigh was pressed against the side of yours for the next ten minutes, and that alone made your body temperature increase to an uncomfortable degree. You tried nudging him with your knee, to get him to scoot away from you, but it only encouraged him to be bolder. He did the typical relaxed-male thing and rested his arm along the back of the couch behind you. The movement enveloped you in his scent and it was too much to handle. You were quick to excuse yourself and not come back to finish the movie. No one questioned it though. You’d had a lot of early nights since you came back from the HYDRA facility mission. Everyone else chalked it up to you recovering from the chemical exposure or maybe jetlag, but Bucky knew what you were doing. Avoiding him. He was having so much fun playing your little game, waiting for you to cave and give into your desires. You were kind of cheating by keeping yourself away from him. That’s not how the game is supposed to be played.
You can’t avoid him today. Today, you’ve both been called in to be briefed on your first partner mission since the HYRDA facility one. Sam didn’t offer many details about it when he first asked you both to be in the conference room at noon today, so neither of you really know what you’re walking into. If it’s anything like your usual missions, it’ll be some breaking and entering or a smash-and-grab type situation. It’s what you and Bucky are best at. Getting in quietly, getting what you need, and getting out. And of course, you’re undeniably good at working together to take down any obstacles along the way.
You step out of the elevator and make your way down the hall to the conference room, arriving twenty minutes before noon so you won’t immediately be thrown into the bustle of a briefing. You always show up early enough to read any mission files that have already been set out on the table for the upcoming op. You don’t like to go into these meetings completely blind. As you scan your palm to gain access to the room, you hear the sound of a chair scraping across the floor as it’s pulled away from the table. Seems like you aren’t the only one who decided to show up early today. You don’t know who you were expecting to find behind the closed door, but it sure as hell wasn’t Dr. Raynor.
“Y/n, it’s nice to see you again.” Her voice is calm and collected, like she isn’t surprised at all that you’re standing right in front of her. You stare at her with a hint of confusion spreading across your face. Are you in the wrong conference room? No, there’s only one conference room on this floor of the compound. She must be in the wrong room. Dr. Raynor can see the wheels in your head turning as you try to figure out why she’s here. She decides to save you the trouble. “I’m observing your missions, remember?”
Ah, so this is the beginning of the babysitting.
---
Bucky wouldn’t say that he’s ever particularly nervous before going out in the field. If anything, he’s more calm than usual. He operates best when he’s under pressure, when he has tasks to complete. He can’t stand doing nothing for extended periods of time. He gets far too consumed with his thoughts when he lets his mind go idle. Yet, today he finds himself on edge. He doesn’t have to think too hard to figure out why, not with Dr. Raynor standing amongst the various SHIELD agents and analysts, watching as you both equip your in-ear monitors and get ready to make the drive to the gala that you’ll be attending undercover tonight. She puts him on edge, and not in a good way like you do. She makes him second-guess his decisions, she makes him more self-conscious. That can be a good thing at times, like when he’s being self-destructive. But in the field? He doesn’t need to be second-guessing himself when both of your lives are on the line.
As Sam drones on, reminding you both of the main tasks to be completed during the mission tonight, your mind is elsewhere. Bucky seems so distant. He’s standing right beside you but he isn’t quite himself. He’s a little too quiet, a little too unfocused. You can’t tell what’s eating at him but you fear it’s the stupid teasing game you’ve both been playing all week. Maybe he let it get to his head.
“Why do I feel like neither one of you are listening to me?” Sam suddenly asks, snapping his fingers around in the air to get your attention. You and Bucky both focus in on him.
“It’s a simple op, Sam. Get in, put on a show, slip into the elevator, plug the device into the computer in the home office upstairs, then slip back out.” Bucky reiterates the plan, proving he didn’t really need to be paying all that much attention. Sam rolls his eyes, holding out a device that looks like a little USB drive. Bucky takes it and drops it into one of the pockets of his suit jacket. He looks good tonight. Who are you kidding? He always looks good. But tonight, he’s dressed in a black suit, complete with a black button-up shirt underneath and a black tie. Of course, he’s wearing his black gloves as well. As Sam tells him how important it is that he not lose that tiny little device, you find your eyes lingering on Bucky’s thighs. His pants hug them just right, exemplifying the toned muscles there and reminding you of how good he looks without any clothing obstructing your view of him. Fuck. You keep forgetting that Dr. Raynor is just a few feet away, analyzing your every move.
It only takes a few more minutes of discussion before you and Bucky are climbing into a sleek black car and heading out of the garage of the compound. As soon as you’re out and onto the interstate, you let out a deep sigh, sinking back into your seat. You’re wearing the tiniest black dress that you own, it’s one of your favorites really. You don’t get many occasions to show it off, so you chose to put it on tonight. You don’t notice it at first, but when you lean back in the seat, your dress rides higher up your thigh and Bucky’s grip on the steering wheel tightens so much that his flesh knuckles turn white on one hand and his vibranium hand nearly leaves a dent. He needs to cool down.
Neither of you have your in-ear monitors on yet. You won’t turn them on until you’re nearing the gala, since it’s a forty-minute drive there. There’s no point in listening to Sam chat up whoever happens to be sitting near him, he’ll do that just fine without the two of you having to suffer through it. You love Sam like family, but the man likes to talk more than a teenage schoolgirl.
“Where are you tonight?” You ask, referring to the way Bucky seemed so out of focus and distant back in the garage.
“I’m here.” He says quietly, keeping his eyes on the road. You sigh and cross your legs. This time, you don’t miss the way Bucky’s gaze darts over to you, running up your legs as your dress slides impossibly higher up your thigh. Any higher and he might be able to tell what color panties you’re wearing tonight. He adjusts himself in his seat, shifting his hips a little and pressing his head back against the headrest. He looks uncomfortable, and when you let your eyes scan down his body, you quickly find out why. He’s hard. Not even slightly hard. Fully erect and clearly testing the strength of his pant seams. In a split second, you make a decision to continue the game. You were going to give it a rest tonight. With Dr. Raynor watching you both so closely and already thinking that you’ve had sex, you didn’t think it’d be smart to push your luck. But you got all dressed up. Why let it go to waste?
“Bucky…” You say, in a sultry tone. Bucky’s knuckles go white again at the sound of you saying his name. You notice it this time. He fucking hates how easy it is for you to get a rise out of him. It’s not even his own fault. You avoided him so much the last couple of days. Seeing you now, dressed like this? It’s like he’s an addict and he’s been without his drug of choice for too long. He’s in the beginning stages of withdrawal and his next fix is staring right at him, calling his fucking name. “What are the boundaries tonight?” You ask. Though the question itself sounds professional, the way you delivered it is anything but. You asked it in a way that implies you want to know so you can test whatever boundaries he lays out. You have all of the power in this moment and he can’t stand it. Do you think he doesn’t know what game you’re playing?
“We need boundaries?” He asks, flipping the script on you. You lose your wits for a moment, unsure of what the hell to say back to him. He was supposed to lay out a few boundaries like no kissing with tongue or hands below the belt, so then you could cross the lines anyway just to fuck with him. He wasn’t supposed to make it a free-for-all. You’re silent for a few seconds too long and he can’t stand it. “I asked you a question.”
Holy fuck. Where does he get off being so demanding with you? You hate it and love it all at the same time. It sends a raging heat straight to your core and you feel your panties dampening with arousal. Your mind follows your body’s cues and answers him the way he expects to be answered: promptly.
“Yes.” You muster the words up, but they come out soft. He zapped your confident demeanor away with one little phrase. He tsks now, relaxing in his seat. He’s gained control back and he’s relishing in it. He steers with only his left hand now, moving to rest his flesh hand over the gear shift between the two of you.
“What boundaries do you need tonight?” He questions. Your mind immediately goes back to the two rules you had in the safehouse that night, though you only ever said one of them out loud. No kissing, and no using his name. You broke both of those rules before the sun ever came up. Obviously your first rule won’t fly in this situation, given the nature of the mission. Your second rule could be useful, considering Bucky’s cover name is simply going to be his real first name: James.
“I don’t know.” You admit, after careful consideration.
“You’re not going to tell me not to kiss you this time?”
“I don’t think we could get away with not kissing when we’re supposed to be convincing everyone there that we want to fuck.” You point out. Bucky laughs lightly, moving the car into the left lane to pass a very slowly traveling Kia.
“We wanted to fuck last week but we didn’t kiss until it had already happened a few times.”
He really just said that.
“We wanted to or we needed to?” You ask, just to clarify. He chuckles under his breath as he moves the car back into the right lane.
“Wanted to, needed to, we can go with whichever makes you feel better.”
“You’re such an ass.” You scoff, crossing your arms. This small act pushes your breasts up a bit and Bucky can tell out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t dare to peel his eyes away from the road and steal a look, because if he does, he’ll crash this damn car when he can’t stop looking at you.
“No kissing tonight.” He says. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he still doesn’t give you so much as a sideways glance.
“Bucky, there’s no way we can pull off an assignment like this without kissing.” It’s not that you want to kiss him, but how else will you make it obvious that you want to fuck? You can’t risk botching the mission as part of your stupid little side game.
“You can kiss anywhere except my lips.” He offers, acting like that’s some sort of compromise. As much as you want to argue with him, there is no fucking way you’re going to sit here in this car and plead for him to let you kiss his lips tonight. There isn’t a chance in hell.
The rest of the car ride went by fairly quickly. Bucky pulled the car into the dramatic gated entrance of a mansion and stopped at the valet. You knew he’d already gotten into character when he turned to you before getting out of the driver’s seat and told you to stay put. He then waved the valet away from your side of the car, before calmly walking over and opening the door for you himself. It was almost attractive. But you know that wasn’t something he normally would’ve done. He’s just playing the part.
Bucky holds out a gloved hand for you, which you accept, and then he helps you out of the car. Once you’re standing in front of him on your favorite black ankle-strap heels, he pushes the car door shut behind you and rests his left hand on your lower back. You tug the hem of your dress a little further down your thighs, since it rode up so much in the car, and surprisingly, Bucky appreciates that. Though he loved getting to see so much of your skin, he didn’t want everyone surveilling the mission to see it too. He also didn’t know if he could continue to think straight with how short your dress was becoming.
As he guides you up the front steps of the mansion and into the double doors, his hand slips a little lower so it’s resting just millimeters above your ass. You feel your cheeks warming and butterflies waking up within you, but you tamp them down fast. This isn’t real. Fake it, get the intel you’re here for, and then get home and get the hell away from Bucky. That’s what you keep telling yourself.
The only problem you were having was that Bucky was way too fucking good at faking it. He walked you right into the gala and wasted no time grabbing you a glass of champagne from a passing server. He found the two of you a nice corner to cozy up in, but made sure it was one that everyone could clearly see. He made sure that you weren’t hidden from plain sight. Then, as you took the first sip of champagne, he started in on step one.
“You’re staring.” You whisper, his blue eyes following your every move. He’s standing close in front of you, the glass of champagne in his hand looking almost miniature, and his breath fanning across your lips.
“I’m staring.” He agrees. Why is your heart racing? Jesus. This mission was a bad call. You turn away from him, taking the moment to scan the room. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. Everyone is dressed beautifully, drinking champagne and chatting away. Most of these guests probably have no idea that the owner of this house is the type of criminal that he is.
Dr. Raynor is watching the live surveillance footage of the mission play out before her from her seat in the conference room of the tower. She’s jotting down notes as she observes you and Bucky, thoroughly surprised by what she’s seeing. Bucky is excelling at feigning the attraction and making it seem like he wants you. You, however, look anxious. You’ve barely even spoken since entering the gala three minutes ago and she’s starting to wonder if you’re going to wash the entire op down the drain.
Bucky keeps his eyes focused on you as you now stand in front of him. He can tell how tense you are. What he can’t tell is if it’s because you don’t want to have to do this with him or if it’s because you do, and that makes you nervous as hell. Of course, the latter is right.
“Come on, you two. Let’s get things moving.” Sam speaks through your in-ear monitors. Bucky takes a step forward now, stepping so close to you that his chest brushes against your back and your cascading, softly curled hair tickles his chin. You smell like strawberries. It’s the same intoxicating scent that he had to wash off of his skin after your night together.
“It’s just me.” He breathes the words out next to your ear, trying to ease your nerves. You let yourself relax against him a little, taking another sip of champagne and closing your eyes for a moment. It’s just him. The guy that’s saved your ass in the field so many times that you’ve lost count. The guy that you’d trust above anyone else, even as you give him shit just for the hell of it. The guy that gave you the best sex of your life, not just once, but five fucking times in a row. It's just him.
“Okay…” You whisper, deciding that you can be as calm and level-headed as he’s being right now. This is going to be easy. You’re a professional, after all.
It’s not until you find yourself with your back against a wall and Bucky’s hands on your waist that you think you might be in over your head. It started out slow, light touches and seemingly innocent whispers in each other’s ears while standing at the very busy bar. After quite a few people started to give the two of you looks, Bucky led you over to an area where a handful of couples were gathered, chatting amongst themselves. That’s where he chose to make a display of grabbing your ass with his vibranium hand, making you gasp and lean into his chest. Trying to play off the gasp as being intentional, you immediately attached your lips to his neck. Kissing and sucking on the soft skin there. Even his skin tastes fucking good. You can’t help yourself when you start having flashbacks to the night you spent together. Once you start thinking about how good it felt with him that night, you begin chasing that feeling. You want him all over you, you want him inside you again. Though you know you can’t have that, you know you can get pretty damn close to it before this mission ends. So, you up your game. This time, you don’t have to hide any evidence of what you’re doing, because you were assigned to do this. You use that as your excuse for sucking a little mark on the side of Bucky’s neck, leaving him with something to find in the mirror later. As your lips leave his neck, one of his hands travels quickly up your back and he tangles his fingers in your hair at the back of your head. He tilts your head back until you’re looking up into his eyes. You can feel the stares of the couples around you, but you remind yourself that those stares are exactly why you’re doing what you’re both doing right now.
Bucky’s eyes dart from your eyes down to your lips. Your fucking lips. God, he wants to kiss you. He remembers how sweet your mouth tasted the first time you kissed him. Like he could ever forget that. He bites his bottom lip in restraint before leaning down and kissing your neck instead, licking and sucking along the curve of your jaw, making his way up to your ear.
“I think we’ve put on enough of a show, don’t you?” He asks softly, his lips tickling the shell of your ear. Your eyes flutter closed at the sound of his voice, hating that that he’s right. It’s time to make your way upstairs, which means that the touching and riling each other up is nearly over with. You nod your head, but Bucky doesn’t like that. He likes when you speak up and answer him. He likes hearing how breathy your voice sounds when you’re worked up like this. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
Shit. You feel a wave of heat spreading from where his lips are against your ear all the way down to your cunt. You take a deep breath, forcing your eyes open and looking over his shoulder. You see plenty of people in the crowded room taking their turns staring at the two of you.
“I think so.” You say quietly, placing a shaky hand on Bucky’s chest and pushing him back gently. You turn on your heel, reaching back and taking his hand in yours, before leading the way to the back of the large, open living area.
“Nice work. You’re going to find the opening to a big hallway at the back of the room. It’ll be dark, you’ll go all the way to the end and take the elevator to the fifth floor. Jesus, this place is huge. Why anyone needs to a home with five floors to themself is beyond you. You reach the hallway quickly, and Bucky holds onto your hand firmly, letting you guide him. The hallway itself has to be at least fifty-feet long, but eventually you reach the elevator. Bucky steps forward, letting his front press against your back as he presses the button to call the elevator with his free hand, his other hand still clasped in yours. Instead of stepping away from you after pressing the button, he stays flush against you. You feel his free hand land on your hip and pull you against him with such a slight movement that it’s almost unnoticeable.
You immediately feel it. His hard cock pressing into your ass.
“There’s one camera in the elevator, so keep up the show.” Sam instructs, just as the elevator is arriving and the doors are sliding open in front of you. The lights inside are dim and the walls are a shiny metal, but not fully reflective. Before you have a chance to step in, Bucky is pushing you forward with the hold he has on your hip. He wastes no time in turning you around. It’s exciting, the way he can so easily move you and handle you. It’s as if it takes little effort or thought for him to do exactly what he wants with you. He walks you backward until your ass hits the wall, and then he looks down into your eyes, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Don’t move.” He says lowly, before stepping away and hitting the button to carry you both up to the fifth floor. As the doors close, he positions himself back against you, tugging on your hair and kissing your neck once more. You sigh as you secretly enjoy his touch, praying that he doesn’t realize just how real your heavy breathing and soft whimpers are. But Bucky knows they’re real. He’s heard you just like this before…whimpering, panting underneath him as he fucked his cock into you. It’s what’s driving him to leave marks all along your collarbone right now. It’s what has his cock so fucking hard that he worries his suit pants won’t survive the mission.
Temporarily forgetting that this is supposed to be an act, Bucky presses his hips into you, nibbling on your earlobe as you take in the feeling of his hard cock resting against your stomach.
“James…” You breathe his name out and he freezes. You feel his cock twitch in his pants and a devious smile plays on your lips. You’re so damn lucky that they let him use his real first name for this mission. You don’t know it yet, but you can have anything you want when you say his name like that. Any. Damn. Thing. He’s about to say fuck it and shove his tongue into your mouth when the elevator dings and the doors open to the fifth floor, revealing a dark home office. You push his chest lightly and he gets moving, turning around and leading the way out of the elevator.
“Security does a sweep of every floor once every ten minutes. If our timing is right, you should have about eight minutes to finish this. Just plug the device into the laptop and leave it for three minutes. It has to be plugged in for at least three minutes to complete the download. Then you’re all clear and you guys can get out of there.” Torres reminds you both through your in-ears. Bucky makes a beeline for the desk at the far back wall of the room, reaching in his pocket for the device and quickly finding the USB port of the laptop. He plugs it in and it lights up with a pale green glow as the intel begins downloading. You both stand there in silence, watching the device as if that will make it download any faster. After about thirty seconds, Sam speaks up again, a slight panic rising in his tone.
“You’ve got company in thirty seconds, security decided to sweep early.”
“Shit.” You mumble, your mind suddenly moving at a hundred miles an hour. Bucky turns to you and meets your gaze, and you immediately know that you’re on the same wavelength. You reach beneath the hem of your dress, tugging your black panties down and holding onto the edge of the desk as you quickly step out of them. You drape them over the device to cover up the green glow of the light, and then turn to face Bucky.
“Sit on the edge of the desk.” He tells you in a hushed tone, as his eyes dart to the fabric of your panties beside the laptop. You find yourself listening without second-guessing his demand. He steps in between your legs and you can hear the whirring of the elevator as it’s called down to one of the lower floors, likely to pick up the security guards that will be sweeping the office any minute now. You’re running out of time. Bucky begins loosening his tie around his neck, and then unbuttons the top three buttons of his shirt in record time, as you reach your hands out and begin unbuckling his belt. Fuck, he’s enjoying this so much more than he should. When you unzip his pants, you nearly moan at the way you see his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. You only get a peek though, because you don’t push his pants down even a little bit. Bucky looks you over quickly as he deftly slides the straps of your dress off of your shoulders. His eyes meet yours and you both know exactly what you need to do. You lay back on the desk and he pulls your thighs around his hips, leaving your dress in place so you’re still fully covered. Suddenly, you feel his clothed, hard cock pushing against your bare clit and you unintentionally arch your back off the cold desk, biting your lip and letting your eyes fall closed. Anyone seeing this on the SHIELD surveillance footage right now would think that you’re just really good at your job, really good at faking things undercover. Only Bucky knows that he just drew real pleasure from you.
“Get loud for me, we have to sell it.” He encourages you, bucking his hips into yours and leaving one hand on your right thigh while his other hand wraps gently around your throat.
“Fuck, James.” You moan loudly, hoping the security guards can already hear you from the elevator shaft. “Right there, baby, oh my god.” This earns a loud groan from Bucky and his grip on your thigh tightens so much that you think you might be left with a bruise in the shape of his hand. The friction of him rutting against you like this is so fucking good that you let out another very real moan right as the elevator dings and the doors slide open behind Bucky. You both pretend not to notice them, trying to give the device more time to do its job. Bucky continues to mimic the actions of a guy slamming his cock into his girl, moans falling from your lips and perfectly timed grunts mixed in with dirty praises falling from his.
“Hey!” A deep voice yells out, and you both gasp for show. You push yourself up on your elbows and look over Bucky’s shoulder. He keeps his body firmly planted where it is to shield you from the men who stand by the elevator. He’d be damned if he’d let them see you this way. “You two can’t be up here.” The man’s voice is serious and authoritative, but his security guard buddy has an amused smile on his face.
“Oh my god, James, you said we wouldn’t get caught.” Your voice is full of fake embarrassment as you cover your face with one hand. He laughs before looking over his shoulder at the guards.
“Just thirty more seconds.” Sam calls out.
“I’d apologize but I’m really not sorry about this.” Bucky says to the two guards, making the amused one laugh and the authoritative one shoot his partner a warning glance. “Can we just have a few seconds to get ourselves together?” Bucky asks kindly, tilting his head in your direction as if to remind them that you’re a lady. The security guards are silent for a second, assessing the situation and scanning the rest of the office for anything in disarray besides the two of you.
“You have thirty seconds to situate yourselves and get in the elevator.” The first guard barks, turning around to face away from you and gesturing for his buddy to do the same. Bucky steps back from you and you lower yourself to the floor, pulling your dress down and sliding the straps back onto your shoulders. Bucky quickly fixes his pants and belt before moving on to his tie and shirt buttons. You smooth down your hair a bit, leaving it at least a little messy for evidence.
“Got it, you’re good to go.” Sam gives the all clear to remove the device.
Bucky smirks at you and as the guards turn back around to face the both of you, he leans in close, reaching past you to grab your panties off of the desk. He skillfully grips the device within them, pulling it out of the laptop and shoving both the panties and device into his suit jacket pocket, making sure the guards witness his move.
“Alright you two, time to head out.” One of the guards calls out, waving you toward the elevator. Bucky takes your hand in his and leads the way, the cocky smile that you’ve become so familiar with never leaving his lips.
Though the guards would’ve allowed you to stay at the gala, it only made sense for you to leave, acting like you were heading out early to finish what you started in the home office upstairs. Bucky stands behind you, peppering kisses up and down the side of your neck while you wait for the valet to bring your car around. As the car comes into view, he cheekily slides his hand from your hip down to the slit in your dress, tracing the triangular outline with his index finger. You have to tell yourself a million times that this is just part of the job.
---
Of course, the mission couldn’t possibly go fully according to plan. Do they ever? When Bucky began to drive you both back to the compound, you soon realized that you were being tailed. Sam was quick to direct you to a hotel, arranging to have a team of SHIELD operatives nearby for protection in case of any kind of ambush. You were sure that the guards didn’t see the device, but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t want to check you out and make sure you were really just some lusty young couple.
That’s how you ended up where you are now: laying on your stomach, still in your dress and heels, on a very comfortable luxury bed while Bucky showers. You have to fight the dirty thoughts flooding your mind, which is really fucking hard to do when the man that you want to do dirty things with is naked just a few feet away in the bathroom. Forcing your mind to stay empty leads to you drifting off to sleep as you wait for him to finish showering so you can have your turn.
You’re startled out of your extremely light slumber by the feel of Bucky’s hands on one of your ankles. You realize that he’s undoing the straps of your heels as you lay on the bed.
“Do you have the device still?” You mumble the question, not moving from your position or trying to stop his movements.
“Mhm, I have your panties too.” He answers, sounding so pleased with himself. You think about kicking him, you could easily do it in the position that you’re currently in, but you’re secretly really glad that he’s taking your heels off for you so you let his teasing slide.
“Yeah, that was a nice move back there, grabbing them and the device the way you did.” He hmms in response, taking off your second heel and setting them both on the floor at the foot of the bed. You feel his hand softly pat the side of one of your thighs before he steps away from the bed and sits in the chair by the window. You roll onto your back and push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning back on your hands. You don’t know what you expected him to be wearing, but it sure as hell wasn’t only his boxers.
“Like what you see?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you and flashing you a suggestive smile. He’s relaxed in the chair, a bit slouched with his arms on the arm rests and his legs spread apart. You do like what you see, but he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you say it out loud. You roll your eyes and push yourself off of the bed, dragging yourself into the bathroom where you find his suit jacket laid across the counter. You reach into the right pocket and pull out your panties.
“They were wet.” He calls out, his voice carrying above the noise of the running water as you turn on the shower. You step back out of the bathroom and make eye contact with him, narrowing your eyes.
“What?”
“Your panties, they were wet.” He smirks. You feel your cheeks heating up and for a moment, you’re embarrassed. Meanwhile, he’s basically beaming with pride. Fuck him. Why are you even embarrassed? He was rock hard, that’s no different than you being wet. You let out a deep sigh and start sliding the straps of your dress down your arms. His eyes follow the movement of your hands and his smug smile falters when he realizes you’re not going back into the bathroom to undress. Honestly, you’re getting sick of this game.
“And your dick was hard.” You retort, staring at him. He shrugs his shoulders, acting nonchalant, but his gaze is still trained on your now bare shoulders.
“Occupational hazard.” He says calmly. He’s such a fucking ass.
“So, now that the job is over, you’re not hard anymore, right?” You question, letting your eyes travel down his tanned, muscular torso and settle on his lap, where he's most definitely still hard. He doesn’t respond but continues staring at you. For once, you’ve shut him up. His silence gives you a newfound boldness, and you start sauntering over to him. You see him stiffen in the chair and a small giggle leaves your lips. God, you’re so fucking pretty and you sound so innocent when you laugh like that. It almost makes him forget about the ways you let him destroy your body a few nights ago. Almost.
Summary: Bucky thinks you're avoiding him because you're worried that he caught feelings for you after the night you shared, but he couldn't be more wrong.
Warnings: mentions of previous smut, profanity, MINORS DNI!!!
Word Count: 5k
Author's Note: Where the hell am I going with this? Is it possible for it to get even smuttier before this ends? I think that's where I'm going, down a very smutty rabbit hole. I need to be stopped.
You expected to feel so guilty and distraught after the night that you had with Bucky. You slept with your partner not just once, but five times. All in the same night. Inexplicably, you feel almost completely fine, with your only issues being how sore you are now and figuring out when’s the right moment to give his dog tags back. You’re sure he didn’t expect you to keep them. You’ve barely managed to get along for the past two months that you’ve worked together. There’s no way he’d want you to keep one of his most sacred possessions just because you spent a night together. You’ll give them back sometime today, when the time is right.
You put the tags out of your mind as you finish packing up your small duffel bag. The team sent the quinjet to bring you and Bucky back home after confirming that you were both fine and that the chemical had seemingly cleared your systems. Banner initially wanted to have the two of you enter quarantine when you return to the compound later today, but after a brief conference call with a few biomedical experts in the field, he decided it was overkill. You probably would’ve fought it anyway. After the last 24 hours, all you want is to be back in your suite at the tower, to take a long, hot shower, and then to sleep for twelve hours straight in your own familiar bed. Bucky, however, is on a different page.
His mind hasn’t stopped doing cartwheels since the phone call from Sam that woke you both up an hour ago. You’d played the situation off well, telling Sam that Bucky didn’t answer his phone because he was showering. Sam didn’t question it. Why would he? Everyone on the team is fully aware of yours and Bucky’s working relationship. You’re just barely civil with each other when it’s paramount to the success a mission, or when your lives depend on it, but outside of that? Well, let’s just say that neither of you go out of your way to do any sort of partner bonding.
Bucky finished packing his duffel bag fifteen minutes ago, but he can hear that you’re still working on yours. He wants to walk across the hall and sit on your bed while you pack. He wants to just sit there and have a conversation with you, or if you don’t want to talk, he’d be content just to be around you at this point. He didn’t realize how starved he had been for human connection until last night and now he feels too alone sitting in this room by himself. His thoughts are too loud, the whirring of his vibranium arm is too noticeable, and there’s the looming threat of last night’s events replaying in his mind. If he lets himself think about last night and earlier this morning, he’ll end up with a hard-on. If he ends up with a hard-on, you’ll likely notice and he won’t be able to blame it on the fucking HYDRA chemical from hell this time. For the first time in a while, Bucky doesn’t know what to do with himself.
---
You’re definitely avoiding him. Bucky expected some kind of conversation on the flight back home, but you were quick to seclude yourself into a corner seat to work on typing out your mission report from the last 24 hours. He sat in the row of seats across from you and a little to your right, occasionally glancing over to see you still fully concentrated on your laptop screen, typing away. What were you typing anyway? He was sure that you weren’t going to be putting the full truth in your report, so why were you so concerned with getting it finished before landing in New York?
After the first hour of the flight, he was desperate for you to say just one word to him. Leaning forward in his seat, he rests his elbows on his knees and traces the lines of the palm of his vibranium hand with the index finger of his flesh hand. He could ask you if you slept well those last few hours this morning before Sam called. No, that just sounds like small talk. He could ask you something related to the mission, maybe something about the samples you’re bringing back for testing. That’s what he’ll start with. He sits back once again and focuses his gaze on you, clearing his throat in preparation for starting the conversation, when you suddenly sit up a little straighter and look right at him.
“You should read my report, see if it’s the story we want to go with or if I need to make any changes.” You say pointedly, your eyes meeting his. He looks surprised that you’re speaking to him. After a moment of silence, the two of you awkwardly staring at each other, you reach across the space between the two of you to pass him your laptop. He meets you halfway, reaching out to grab it, and then settles back into his seat. You watch him carefully as he narrows his eyes at the screen, reading everything that you’ve spent the last hour working on. You tried to keep it simple. You wrote the full truth of what happened in the lab, explaining what you did that triggered the release of the chemical into the air and how the two of you destroyed the entire facility before leaving via motorcycle afterward. The lies only start when you get to the point where your conference call with Banner and Stark ended. That’s where you write that you and Bucky locked yourselves in separate bedrooms and remained separated for the rest of the night. It's not a very long report, so why it’s taken Bucky more than three minutes to read it is beyond you.
“What do you think?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He stares at the screen for a few more seconds before tearing his eyes away from it and looking over at you.
“It’s fine.” It’s the first time you’ve heard his standard grumpy tone in more than twelve hours. You should feel relieved that he’s acting like his usual self, but for some reason you feel bothered. You didn’t expect him to suddenly act like the two of you are close, but god, would it kill him to act like you weren’t the last person he wanted to be around?
As Bucky passes the laptop to you, he doesn’t miss the way you avoid making eye contact with him.
“So, that’s our story then.” You say matter-of-factly, saving the report and closing your laptop. You’ll finalize it and submit it after the debrief that you’re sure to have with Fury and a whole host of other SHIELD agents and admins later today.
“Guess so.” Bucky mumbles. You want to throw the laptop at his perfect face.
---
“What did you do?” Sam throws the question at Bucky with an overly accusatory tone as he enters Bucky’s suite without so much as a single knock in warning. Bucky had been unpacking his suitcase, but now he drops his folded tactical pants on the bed, turning to face Sam.
“I didn’t do anything.” He answers, though his face isn’t as convincing as his lie. Truthfully, he can’t think of anything that he did or said this morning to have pissed you off. But, in the back of his mind, he knows he did plenty of crossing the lines last night. Maybe you just thought things over in the light of day and realized that you made a huge mistake with him last night and early this morning. Whatever it is that you did between the time you both woke up and the time you boarded the quinjet for the flight home, it put you in a very untalkative mood. You were silent for most of the flight home, and then when you arrived back at the compound, you basically beelined for your room.
“Bullshit. The two of you couldn’t get along for just twenty-four hours? Actually, not even twenty-four hours, because the two of you were locked away from each other all last night. So, what did you do to piss her off?” Sam’s interrogation is the last thing Bucky wants to be dealing with right now. He wants to finish unpacking, shower your fucking intoxicating scent off of every inch of his skin that it seems to be clinging onto, and then get the mission debrief over with.
“We got along fine.”
“Fine doesn’t sound like you two.”
“Okay, we got along as well as we normally do. It was just a rough night, Sam. What do you want me to say? We were in a bad situation.” Bucky sighs, scooping his tactical pants up again and putting them away in a dresser drawer. Sam studies him closely as he moves around the room, putting away various personal items. He’d like to think that he knows Bucky well enough at this point to read his mind, but he doesn’t. Not most of the time, anyway. Maybe he’ll have more luck going directly to you and asking why you’re so off today. He knows he should give you both a break. It was probably a night filled with physical torment and anguish with that chemical compound running through your veins.
“Fine. I’m sorry, man. We really didn’t know what we were sending the two of you into.” Sam apologizes, uncrossing his arms and hoping Bucky will respond a little less defensively.
“It doesn’t matter. We made it out and now we’re back home and…it doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.” Bucky mutters. Sam knows that’s about as good of an acceptance as he’ll get from Bucky, so he takes it. As he leaves Bucky’s suite, he walks the few steps across the hall and knocks on your door. No answer.
---
This is one of those moments where you find yourself wondering how the hell you ended up in a situation like this. The current situation being you and Bucky, seated in Dr. Raynor’s office. There’s a wall behind you covered with an image of tall, skinny trees. You can tell that it’s meant to be relaxing, but it just makes you feel like you’re in a pediatrician’s office that’s decorated with nature scenes to keep kids distracted from the needles and physical exams. You pick at the fraying threads on the knee of your distressed jeans, trying to occupy your mind before it occupies itself with thoughts of the man sitting next to you. Bucky sits a mere foot and a half away from you. Both of you are seated on opposite ends of the small gray couch. Why does it feel like you’re about to start couples therapy?
Bucky feels even more on-edge than you do. Dr. Raynor knows him too well. She can see straight through him most of the time, and now that he’s sitting here next to you, he’s scared to death of what she might see. His heart is racing in his chest, threatening to break through his navy blue Henley tee and dark jacket. The two of you rode here together, Bucky offered to drive as a small act of kindness, a peace offering, if you will. He also didn’t want the two of you to arrive separately and set off any alarms in Dr. Raynor’s head. She reads too far into everything. On the ride over, Bucky asked if you were still going to keep up the story about what happened three nights ago in the safehouse. You said yes, and that was that. You would both be lying to Dr. Raynor today.
“Sorry, I had a little situation I had to handle downstairs.” Dr. Raynor says with a sigh as she enters the room quickly. Neither of you turn to look at her as she closes the door behind herself and makes her way to her chair across from the couch. This is your first time meeting her. You’ve never been sent to therapy like this before. Sure, you’ve had routine psych evals, and once after a bit of a missing-in-action situation you had to go through the mandatory ten sessions with a shrink. But now? You really don’t even know why Fury sent the two of you here for this. You and Bucky have never really been close, why is that lack of closeness a problem now? “I appreciate the kind greetings.” Dr. Raynor quips sarcastically. She seats herself in her chair, settling her notebook and pen on her lap, before studying you both. You feel the tension in the air rising and Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Do you know why you’re here?”
Unsure of which one of you she’s directing the question to, you both stay silent.
“I didn’t expect your partner to be as quiet as you, James.” Dr. Raynor says, focusing her gaze on him. This relieves you a little. You don’t feel like you’re the one under scrutiny if she’s addressing at him, even though she’s talking about you.
“She’s not quiet.” Bucky huffs, tracing the lines on his vibranium palm. You’re starting to notice he does that when he doesn’t have much to say, or maybe it’s when he has a lot to say but doesn’t want to say it.
“Oh?” Dr. Raynor turns to you now.
“I don’t know why we’re here.” You answer her previous question, making sure that you don’t sound as moody as Bucky.
“The fact that neither of you can get along, and everyone that you work with knows this about your partnership, you don’t think that that might be the reason why you were sent here today?”
“We’ve been partners for two months and we’ve never been sent here before.” You point out. Bucky’s gaze is flitting between you and Dr. Raynor. He almost seems amused by the exchange. It’s a bit exciting for him to see someone else under Dr. Raynor’s microscope, and it’s especially exciting to him that’s it’s you.
“Right. So, what change happened this week that landed you both in my office?”
That’s a loaded question. You turn your head to steal a glance at Bucky but find him already looking over at you. Somehow, the two of you communicate with just a look. A look that says something along the lines of we both know what changed, but we aren’t going to say a damn thing about it here.
“Nothing.” You both say at the same time, breaking eye contact. Dr. Raynor is immediately interested in the exchange that she just witnessed.
“What was that?” She questions.
“What was what?” Bucky plays dumb, scrunching his eyes at her. She waves her pen between the two of you.
“That, that look.”
“It was just a look, doc.” Bucky lies.
“Okay, we can do this one of two ways.” Dr. Raynor straightens up in her chair, once again resting the pen on the notebook. “You both tell me what really happened on the trip to the HYDRA lab three days ago and I help you fix whatever rift it caused in your working relationship, or you continue acting like nothing happened while this thing festers like an open wound.” You kind of like her. She gets to the point, and though you don’t know her at all, she does seem trustworthy. Still, you can’t just tell her that you and Bucky slept together. That’s a fast track to getting your partnership suspended. Wait, since when do you care so much about your partnership? A week ago, you would’ve happily traded Bucky for a new partner, or even gone back to working solo missions if you were given the option to. Why does the idea of working without Bucky bother you now?
“Did Fury give you a copy of our mission reports?” You ask, drawing Bucky’s attention straight back to your face. He wonders where you’re going with this. Dr. Raynor nods slowly, analyzing you both before speaking.
“Yes, and I feel like they’re missing about twelve hours worth of details.” She responds. She’s good.
“You don’t think we locked ourselves in separate bedrooms.” You make your words a statement, rather than posing another question. Dr. Raynor shrugs.
“I think your reports lacked detail, especially compared to any of your previous mission reports. What possibly could have happened that night that would make you both want to be as vague as possible in a mission report?” Her question isn’t for either of you to answer, but you both know that she knows. You swallow hard and clasp your hands together in your lap, fighting the urge to get a running start and jump out of the window that’s on Bucky’s side of the room. “Let me pose a hypothetical. Let’s say that you both were exposed to a chemical agent that’s designed to make super soldiers reproduce. You get exposed, you both go back to the safehouse, and you lock yourselves in separate rooms like you said. Y/n, with your medical background, how long do you think either of you would be able to stay in a locked room before having to at least use the restroom? According to your reports, you locked in around 9 pm and didn’t leave your rooms again until at least 7:30 am.”
“I don’t like hypotheticals.” You retort, crossing your arms over your chest like a child. You feel silly. You know you look ridiculous sitting here with a frown on your face and your arms crossed, you know that you do. But her line of questioning is quickly approaching the truth and you don’t want to give her anymore fuel than she already has. She sees you shutting down and turns her attention to Bucky.
“James?”
“I didn’t have to pee.” He mumbles.
“You had sex.” Dr. Raynor states. There isn’t a hint of questioning in her tone now. Suddenly, the room falls silent. So silent that Bucky can hear the way your heart is pounding in your chest and the way you’ve suddenly began holding your breath.
“That doesn’t sound like something that two people who can’t stand each other would do.” Bucky responds on your behalf. Mentally, you’re thanking him. You didn’t have a single word in your mind to use to formulate a response.
“Right. But if you think about it, it does. And not only does it sound like something those two people would do, but it sounds smart, if you think about it.”
“Smart?” Bucky’s confused now. Is Dr. Raynor trying to say that it was smart of the two of you to fuck?
“Let’s say that two people who don’t get along are stuck in a situation where they have these primal, innate biological feelings to reproduce. They decide to have sex to lessen their suffering at the hands of the chemical that they were exposed to, knowing that because they don’t get along, they aren’t risking much by crossing that line together. They wouldn’t have cared if they were found out and their partnership was terminated, because they didn’t like working together in the first place. And if no one found out and their partnership remained intact, neither of them have feelings for each other so it wouldn’t matter anyway, they could continue working together like they normally would. That makes it sound like the smart thing to do, don’t you think?”
It does sound smart when she words it like that. But you and Bucky both know that it’s not an accurate representation of your situation. No, you don’t really get along and you never have, but you didn’t have sex while simultaneously not giving a shit about what happened to your partnership. All you could think about at first was how it would ruin your partnership. Then you had a night full of sex that was so good you’ve been thinking about it nonstop since, which led to you avoiding Bucky in the compound so you could give yourself a chance to stop thinking about him in such a non-platonic way. That’s what landed you here, on Dr. Raynor’s little therapy couch in her little therapy office. Fuck. It’s your fault that you’re both here.
“I’m not necessarily accusing the two of you of anything. No one knows what happened that night except for you, though I have my suspicions. I’d like you both to feel comfortable enough to tell me what happened, but if you don’t feel like you can do that right now, I’ll respect it. However, I do want to observe the two of you interacting in the field over the next few missions. Fury is sure that this partnership is the best thing he’s ever created. After reading through each of your files, I’m not as convinced.”
Great. Now you and Bucky have a babysitter.
---
After finishing your very brief and unproductive session with Dr. Raynor, Bucky drove you both back to the compound. The silence was a little more bearable this time. Neither of you wanted to talk about what had just happened in the session or about how Dr. Raynor seems to know that you fucked. When you arrived back at the compound, you went your separate ways. Bucky went upstairs, presumably to skulk around in his room until dinnertime, and you hit the gym. You gave yourself a rest day after coming back from the mission-from-hell, but now you need the high that you get from a good workout. You need it because your thoughts are still consumed with Bucky. With the way he fit so perfectly inside of you, with the way he looked at you with so much awe when you were coming undone on his cock in front of the mirror, and for fuck’s sake, the way you felt like he owned you when his dog tags were around your neck. You want it. You want him. Bad. You’ve been taking a lot of cold showers lately. Now, you’re turning to the gym to try to get him out of your system.
After a nice four-mile evening run and a core workout on the mats in the gym, you decide to take a shower in the gym downstairs instead of going up to your room and risking running into Bucky. You don’t want to ruin your current streak of one hour without thinking about him naked. “FRIDAY, play my workout playlist.” You call out as you enter the shower room and grab a clean towel from one of the shelves by the door. You sling the towel over one of the shower doors and step inside, stripping your clothes off and tossing them over the door before turning the water on. FRIDAY begins playing your playlist at full volume, which is how you always like to have it when you’re showering down here after a workout. With the music blasting and hot water streaming down your skin, you’re safe from any thoughts about Bucky. You wash away all of the stress of the day, imagining all of the bad things in your life flowing down into the drain at your feet.
Suddenly, you hear the door to the shower room swing open and then fall shut again with a resounding click. You continue lathering your skin with soap, listening intently for an announcement of some sort from whoever is intruding on your personal time.
“FRIDAY, turn the volume down to 10%.” Bucky’s voice rings out and you take a deep breath, feeling your bad mood crawl out of the shower drain and back up into your body. How dare he? His next move only further pisses you off, as your towel quickly disappears from the glass door of the shower.
“Barnes—”
“I want to talk.” He interrupts you, and you can see the silhouette of him pacing slowly back and forth through the distorted glass door.
“You have until I finish this shower.” You say through clenched teeth. “Then, I’m getting out and strangling you with that towel.”
“You’re going to get out without a towel?” You see his figure pause as your words still him.
“My naked body will be the last thing you see. You have sixty seconds.” He chuckles at your words, and you can hear the movement of him slinging the towel over his shoulder as he stands outside of the shower, clearly amused.
“Dr. Raynor knows.” He states.
“Yeah, no shit.” You say sarcastically, truly dumbfounded that he felt the need to say it out loud. Obviously, she knows.
“She’s going to be analyzing us on every mission until she confirms it.” He continues. Does he think you were totally zoned out during the session in her office earlier? You know she’s going to be babysitting the both of you in the field for the forseeable future.
“Is there a point to this conversation?” You ask, rinsing all of the soap bubbles off of your skin and watching them slip across the shower floor. Bucky audibly sighs. What is with your fucking attitude tonight? You avoided him all day yesterday. He knows you had some errands to run at SHIELD’s headquarters, so you were there most of the morning, but even when you came back to the compound around lunch it was obvious that you were doing everything you could just to stay out of his sight. He’s fucking sick of it.
“Yeah, I want to know when you’re going to stop acting like fucking made me fall in love with you.” Bucky says flatly. On the inside, he’s angry. That’s why you’ve been avoiding him, right? Because you’re scared that he caught feelings for you somewhere in the midst of all of the mind-blowing sex. That’s the only reason he can imagine that you have for avoiding him the way you have been, and for the way that you’re talking to him now. He, however, couldn’t be more wrong. You were scared that you were catching feelings. It’s why you didn’t want to say his name or kiss him when you fucked. You knew that if you did either of those things, it would feel too real. It’d be too hard to pretend it meant nothing to you.
When are you going to stop acting like fucking made him fall in love with you? Jesus, he thinks he has you all figured out, doesn’t he? You catch yourself laughing. You reach over and turn off the water. You’re just about to tell Bucky that he can fuck off with his demands to know anything from you, when you hear the shower room door open once again, followed by a set of footsteps.
“Hey, Y/n, dinner is going to be ready in—” Sam stops short when his eyes fall on Bucky, who stands outside of your shower door, holding your towel in his vibranium hand. “What’s…are you holding her hostage in the shower? Give me that damn towel, man.” You hear a soft commotion that you can only assume is the two men scuffling over your stolen towel. The towel finds its way back over the glass door, courtesy of Sam, and you quickly snatch it up, patting yourself dry before wrapping it around your body. “Dinner is ready in fifteen minutes, if you two want to eat.” Sam announces. Bucky gives him a steely look for returning the towel to you, but Sam ignores it, turning on his heel and walking out. You’re surprised that he didn’t have anything to say about the unusual situation he stumbled into here. Maybe he’s saving it for later.
Bucky’s just about to ask his question again, the one about when you’ll stop acting like he’s in love with you, when you push the shower door open and step out in front of him. Covered only by that damn towel. He wants to pretend like he’s unbothered, but the way a tent is forming in his jeans throws that plan out the window. You have an effect on him and you’re fully aware of it.
“Fucking didn’t make you fall in love with me?” You ask innocently, standing just six inches in front of him and looking up into his eyes. His eyes leave yours for a moment, his gaze raking down your body and leaving heat in its wake. He takes in your messy bun, the way the towel is so tightly hugged around your curves, and the way water is dripping down your legs. Fuck, he wants to lick every single drop off of your skin. He wants to start at your ankles and kiss, lick, and suck his way up to your inner thighs. When he meets your stare once again, you’re smirking at him. “Answer the question, Barnes.” You use a specific tone of voice this time, one that you usually reserve for seductive purposes in the field. It makes him swallow hard and you note the way his jaw flexes. Hmm, you’ve seen his jaw flex like that before. You take one step forward, closing the minimal space between the two of you, letting your towel-covered chest lightly brush against him as you begin trailing your fingertips down the right sleeve of his Henley tee. He’s temporarily frozen in place, his eyes watching the movements of your hand closely, before he quickly steps back and tsks at you. He shakes his head as annoyed look takes over his features.
“Don’t fuck with me, Y/n. Dr. Raynor isn’t here to supervise the tension.” His words send heat rushing through your body, a heat that settles in your cheeks and between your legs. You hate how the threatening tone of his voice combined with his choice of words makes you long to be underneath him again, but you’re sure he’s just playing a sick game with you. You wish the horny part of you would remember that, that this is just a fucked up game. It isn’t real. But you know what? If he wants to play this fucked up game, you’ll make sure you win it. He can act like he doesn’t want you, but his reactions to everything you do sends a different message.
You’ll just have to play this game until he admits that he wants you as much as you want him. Maybe you'll give him his dog tags back as a consolation prize when you win.
Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.
Word Count: 3.3k
Author's Note: AHHHH ngl I had butterflies down deeep while writing certain parts of this, I hope it was worth the wait for y'all. For the millionth time this week, thank you for all of the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, EVERYTHING. I wouldn't be writing this without you amazing people.
Everything hurts. You feel like you ran a marathon, hit the gym, and then rolled down a mountainside. After a few seconds of being completely still, you realize it isn’t pain from the chemical compound. No, it’s just the after effects of the night that you’ve had. It’s the kind of soreness that you should expect to have after a night of sex with someone like Bucky, and after all of the intense physiological chaos that the chemical exposure caused. You don’t feel any cramping, stinging, or unbearable discomfort anymore. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you focus in on your current position. You lay on your side, dressed in only your t-shirt and Bucky’s dog tags, with his body so close behind you that you can feel the increasingly familiar warmth of breath fanning across the side of your neck. You’re worried that the way you’re feeling right now might be temporary. What if the chemical hasn’t fully cleared out of your system yet? Or worse, what if it has? What happens when Bucky wakes up and you both have to face each other after everything that’s happened tonight?
You shake the anxiety-laden thoughts from your mind and decide the best way to soothe yourself is to check the time. Time is going to be the best indicator of how likely it is that the chemical has run its course for you. Unbeknownst to you, when you lean over and retrieve your phone from the bedside table, you moving those mere three inches away from Bucky interrupts his slumber. He blinks his eyes a few times as the dim screen of your phone becomes visible over your shoulder. 5:03 am. It’s been nine hours since you were both exposed. You recall Banner’s estimates, remembering him saying that it could last 8-10 hours for you and 8-12 hours for Bucky. How you’re feeling combined with it having been nine hours since exposure, you’re sure now that it’s worn off for you. Or at least worn off enough that you won’t be jumping your partner anymore. You set your phone back down on the table and rest your head on your pillow once more, remaining on your side. Maybe you can get another two or three hours of sleep before the team starts calling to check in with you both.
Bucky, however, won’t be going back to sleep. Though he lays behind you with his eyes shut and his face giving the impression that he’s asleep, his lower half is very much awake and it’s keeping the rest of him awake now. He doesn’t know for sure if it’s worn off for you yet, but if it hasn’t, it will very soon. Why does the thought of that make him almost sad? He shouldn’t want more of what went down tonight. God, he wishes he didn’t want more. But with you lying inches away from him, wearing that damn t-shirt and his dog tags, and your panties probably still on the bathroom floor…all he can think about is repeating every second of the last time he was inside of you. It replays in his mind in flashes. You let him slide into your tight, wet cunt when you’d barely woken up and then you moaned his name before he was even fully inside you. You let him take his time, you didn’t rush him one bit as he memorized the way your pussy gripped his shaft and drew him in for more every time he tried to pull out. And fucking hell, when you leaned back into him and hooked your leg over his, giving him the perfect angle to please you. Yet somehow, all of that was background noise when you kissed him. You kissed him. He thought working his name out of your pretty little mouth was the triumph of the night, until he tasted your lips.
He can’t ignore how hard he is any longer. Not when you’re lying there without anything underneath your t-shirt and especially not when his mind is giving him a slow-motion replay of the events that occurred just over an hour ago. He wants to find his relief in you, but he fears that you’re no longer under the influence of the chemical that gifted him with the best night of his life. He won’t take advantage. With it being so close to the ten-hour mark, he can’t bring himself to ask you for anything more than what you’ve already given him. He’ll take care of this one himself.
You feel Bucky shift on the bed behind you a few minutes after you’ve set your phone back down on the bedside table. You stay still, hoping he’s just moving in his sleep to get more comfortable and that he isn’t really waking up after so little sleep. He has to be exhausted at least as much as you are, if not more. He needs sleep. When you feel cool air seeping into the covers, you know he’s not lying behind you anymore. You sit up quickly, turning your head to see Bucky standing beside the bed, pulling his boxers on in the dark. The feeling that spreads over you can only be described as dread. Did it wear off early for him? Is he going back to his bed to sleep through the rest of the morning now that he has no need for you anymore? Why does it bother you so damn much that he’s about to walk out of this room?
“Bucky?” He freezes at the sound of his name leaving your lips in such a soft, timid tone. You sound worried and he hates it. His back is to you so you haven’t seen the way his cock is once again fighting to escape the confines of his boxers, you don’t see the way his cheeks are flushed or the way sweat is glistening across his forehead. He can make it out of here before you notice any of it.
“Go back to sleep. You can probably get a few more hours in before Sam and Fury want to hear from us.” Why does he sound so distant? And why the hell won’t he turn around and look at you? You feel utterly sick now. After what you both did last night, he can’t even look at you. Can you blame him? God, you were so fucking stupid. Where did all of your self-control go? You were supposed to lock yourself in the bedroom and ride it out alone, not ride it out on him. Suddenly, his dog tags feel heavy around your neck. Bucky takes two steps toward the door, still refusing to look at you.
“Wait.” You remove the dog tags from around your neck, holding the chain in your palm as you climb out of bed. He sighs but still doesn’t turn to you. What a fucking ass. “These are yours.” You say softly, walking to the foot of the bed and holding them out. He takes two more steps forward, stopping once he’s in front of you. You hold out the dog tags, studying them as they sway above his open palm. As you watch the metal tags collide with his skin, you feel hollow inside. You can be as cool and as calloused as him, you decide. You’re about to turn on your heel and climb back into bed, alone, when you mistakenly let your eyes drift down to the front of his tented boxers. The chemical hasn’t cleared his system yet.
He knows you know now. He watches as your expression changes from one that he couldn’t quite decipher to one that he’s become fond of tonight: need. It’s different this time though. You don’t need him to fuck you. Instead, you feel the need to take care of him. You don’t want him to suffer through these last couple of hours. You can’t let him suffer after all of the ways he helped you.
“Bucky...” Your voice trails off as you turn your gaze up to his face. He’s looking into your eyes but instead of seeing his blue irises painted on with a lust-tinged brush, you see the hard, stoic look he’s always had around you.
“I said you should go back to sleep.” He reminds you, his fist tightening around the dog tags that remain in his flesh hand. Why is he acting like this now? You should feel hurt, maybe even embarrassed that this is how he’s treating you after everything you did with him, but the only thing you feel is anger that he’d walk away now. That he’d walk away when he’s so clearly in need of something that you can give him. You’re contemplating what to say to start the argument that’s about to take place, but you know words won’t be enough to make him stay. Not when he has that cold look in his eye.
Bucky’s frozen in place when you get down on your knees.
“Y/n…” His warning tone doesn’t do shit to stop you. You’re already on the floor, sliding your hands from his knees, up the fronts of his thighs, and then lightly raking your fingertips back down to where you started. You think you can almost feel him trembling at your touch. “You don’t need to do this.”
“Everything else I did tonight was because I needed to do it. I’m doing this because I want to.”
That was it. Somehow, he thinks that’s the best thing you’ve ever said to him. Now, as you pull his boxers down at a painstakingly slow pace, that lust-filled look is back where it belongs, clouding his gaze as he watches you intently. You maintain eye contact as you wrap your hand around his thick length, stroking it once, twice, three times before leaning forward and dragging your tongue over his slit. He watches as you taste his precum. It lights a fire within him that he fears will only be stoked by every fucking thing that you do from now on. He never would’ve thought that the mouth that gives him shit on a daily basis would be wrapped around his cock like it is now. You work your hand over the base of his shaft as you take him further and further into your mouth. You were going to stop halfway and pull back, planning to give him a nice, clean blowjob. But when you make it halfway and look up at him through your eyelashes, the way he’s looking back down at you causes every thought to flee your mind. You relax your throat and take the last few inches in slowly, until you feel your nose brush against his lower stomach and his cock hit the back of your throat. The groan that rips from his chest encourages you to pull back and do it again. You’re about to do it a third time when he fists his vibranium hand in your hair and pulls your head back, forcing his cock out of your mouth. As he looks down at you, your cheeks and nose pink, your eyes watering ever so slightly, his dog tags feel heavy in his right hand. He loosens his grip in your hair and lets his vibranium hand slide over to the side of your face. He runs his thumb across your cheekbone.
You stare up at him with lust and longing written all over your features. Can anyone really blame him for what he’s about to do? Fucking hell, he can’t help himself. He stops stroking your cheek with this thumb and you watch carefully as he fingers the chain of his dog tags in front of your face. Your eyes catch onto the inscription that you’ve rubbed your thumb over so many times tonight: James B Barnes. He gently places the chain back around your neck and then hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him again.
“So fucking pretty with my name around your neck.” He breathes out the words. Now you’re the one trembling. When his hand falls away from your chin, you lose the last shreds of self-control you were clutching onto and place your hands on his thighs as you take him back into your mouth. You bob your head back and forth eagerly, loving the breathy groans and curses that fall from his lips every time he hits the back of your throat. Still, you want to give him more. You reach up and grab his flesh hand, guiding it to the back of your head as you still yourself with only the tip of his cock resting in your mouth. He narrows his eyes at you, knowing what you’re about to let him do but not completely sure that you can take it. He was just about to ask you if you were sure, when you gave him the most innocent look that he’s ever seen, and then he was ruined. He tangles his fingers in the hair at the crown of your head and forces you to take every inch of him in. He holds you there for two seconds, trying harder than he ever has to keep from cumming when he feels your throat tighten as you gag on his cock. You let him take complete control, guiding your head back and forth at the pace he chooses. It takes less than a minute for him to nearly come undone. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and you don’t have any plans to make him stop. You hope he’ll cum in your mouth. Of course, he abruptly pulls your head back before he finishes. But he doesn’t stop there. He pulls you to your feet using his hold on your hair and shoves you onto the bed.
“Shirt off, now.” He commands, his chest heaving as he runs a hand through his messy hair. In an instant, your shirt is on the floor and you’re sitting on the bed with your weight resting back on your hands. He crawls over you while stroking his cock in his right hand, and you follow your instincts, lying down underneath him as he leaves you no other choice. Your legs spread and you find yourselves in the missionary position, just like the first time you fucked. “You were going to let me cum in your mouth, weren’t you?” He asks, bracing himself with his arms on the bed on either side of your head and leaning in close to you. He leaves wet kisses just underneath your jaw as he patiently waits for a response.
“Yes.” You answer honestly. Your eyes are nearly rolling back in your head at how good he is with his mouth. His lips feel so soft against your skin and you just want to taste him again. You let your hands travel up his sides, over his chest, and then you rest them along the sides of his jaw, pulling his mouth to yours. He captures your lips with his, your mouths moving in tandem as heat begins to spread throughout your body.
“Would you have swallowed?” Bucky wonders aloud, breaking the kiss to look into your eyes. You stare up at him as a playful smile turns up the corners of your lips.
“Every drop.”
The words have barely left your mouth when you feel Bucky lining his cock up with your entrance. You moan before he’s even inside of you and he can’t stop the smirk that spreads across his face. He has you wrapped around his finger in this perfect, unforgettable moment. He forces his cock inside you, his head falling down to the crook of your neck as he bottoms out.
“Fuck, Y/n. It’s so good, I can’t…” His voice is tense as his sentence goes unfinished. He’s not even thrusting into you, he’s just grinding his hips in circles, letting his cock rub against the walls of your pussy. “I just want to stay like this.” He groans. For a second, you wonder if he means that he wants to physically stay like this or if he means something else entirely.
“God, Bucky…” You start grinding up into him just like he’s grinding down into you and within seconds, you’re a wreck beneath him. “Please, fuck me.” He can’t deny you. He starts fucking his cock into you, obsessed with the way you pull him tighter against your chest with every thrust. Bucky was already seconds away from cumming when you were sucking him off, but now he’s hanging so far over the edge that he can feel himself losing control. You can sense how far gone he is as he buries his cock in you with what can only be described as pure primal need.
“Shit. Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, nipping at your collarbone as the headboard begins to knock against the wall. You wrap your legs around his waist and snake your hand down between the two of you, rubbing your clit to ensure that you’ll cum at the exact same time as him. You want him to feel the way you clench around him, the way your walls flutter as aftershocks tear through you.
“Oh my god, Bucky. Cum inside me, please fucking cum for me, baby.” The words fall from your lips so freely that someone overhearing would think you’ve been sleeping with each other for months. “Don’t pull out.” Your last words flip a switch inside him and he starts driving his cock into you with so much force that you hear the headboard crack. When he cums inside you just a second later, you fall over the edge right along with him, your orgasm so strong that tears form in the corners of your eyes as he fucks you through it.
That. That was earth-shattering, life-altering sex.
You stay connected like that, with Bucky on top of you and his cum trapped inside of your cunt by his still hard dick, until you both drift off to sleep.
---
There aren’t many things that you hate more than being woken up by your phone ringing. It’s always immediately put you in a bad mood. However, when you wake up this morning to the sound of your phone ringing and vibrating on the bedside table, you find yourself tangled up with Bucky. Completely naked.
Fuck. You’re facing each other, with your leg hitched over his hip and his thigh pressed against your wet pussy. Wet? Holy shit, it’s his cum. His cum has been steadily dripping out of you since you fucked earlier, and with the position you’re in, it’s been dripping out of you and onto the skin of his thigh. With the light of early morning starting to peek through the curtains across the room, you can see Bucky clearly now. He’s scrunching up his face in annoyance at the sound of your phone ringing. Shit, your phone. You twist your upper body and retrieve your phone from the bedside table, tapping on the screen to answer it before checking to see who’s calling.
“Tell me you both made it through the night.” Sam’s voice fills your ear and Bucky must hear it too, because his eyes snap open in an instant. He doesn’t move and you can see the wheels in his mind turning as he goes through the same mental gymnastics you just went through about your positions and what exactly is on his thigh right now. You bite your lip so you won’t let out a laugh.
“We made it through the night.” You tell Sam, your voice raspy from the various moans and screams you let out last night.
“And you’re both okay?” He asks.
“We’re fine.”
“I tried calling Bucky first because I know he never sleeps, but he didn’t answer.” Bucky’s eyes widen as he overhears Sam’s words. He didn’t answer because he slept in your bed, and his phone is still back in his own bedroom.
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