pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: bucky barnes swears on his life that he is not a jealous man.
warnings: 18+ content, MDNI. reader is female. swearing, dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, bucky is possessive as hell and reader loves it. no use of y/n.
wc: 1k
a/n: challenged myself to write a fic with exactly 1000 words! best read by singing along to jealous.
bucky was by no means a jealous man.
or so he said.
he was a secure man, and he trusted the life out of you. bucky had the comfort of knowing you couldnât care less to any man looking at your direction, or trying to say something along the lines of are you free next week? or shitty bare minimum texts of have you eaten? and deeming it as maximum effort.
so when a guy comes up to you in the dimly lit space of this bar, features contorted in a flirtatious manner as he gives out a smile that seemed to ask if you were available for a dateâ he didnât flinch. he just snaked his vibranium arm a little lower to your waist, tilted his head and raised his eyebrow in a taunting way.
his eyes zoomed in on the man who couldnât even properly look at the both of you, let alone carry a conversation with substantial topics. bucky knew guys like himâ who was just desperate to get laid for a night.
he wouldnât admit it, because he had nothing to confess. why would he be jealous when youâre all his?
âwoah, man.â the guy let out a defensive laugh. âjust trying to ask where the bathroom is.â
you chuckled, fingers caressing his stubble as you politely grinned at the person, not even listening to what he had to say because you enjoyed how bucky gripped tighter at your figure when he neared closer, the sense of personal space seemingly nonexistent.
âdown the hall to your left.â he snarled. âthe sign is literally there.â he pointed upward as the guy scurried off in a panicked manner. you really couldnât blame him.
âbe nice, baby.â you said, in an amused manner, to which bucky isnât in responseâ with the way his jaw tightens and how he turns his gaze to you, eyes filled with hunger and desire. and the only warm light in the bar swirls in his orbs, in the most intimate way possible.
âiâm not jealous.â
you raised your eyebrows at him. sure.
âiâm not saying you are.â bucky rolled his eyes when he heard your hearty laugh. âhe was just asking where the bathroom is.â you shrugged as you defended the guy, just to rile your not jealous boyfriend up.
âhe looked at you like you were a feast, sweetheart. didnât even notice me.â
buckyâs act was starting to crumble.
âyou know i love you.â you smiled. âonly you.â
he let out a sigh, taking a swig of beer down his throat. bucky looked at you feverishly as you gave him a kiss on the cheek.
maybe he was, jealous.
because no other man deserved you, he thinks that he does not even deserve you. change has been the only thing that stayed by his side through the decades, and youâve just become the only constant thing by his sideâ he wasnât just going to lose that to a man who couldnât even see where the bathroom is.
no, you deserved actual dates with your favorite flowers and the most expensive thing on the menu in the finest restaurant in the world. or a simple picnic in the middle of nowhere with a breathtaking view of the mountains, or the city skylinesâ whichever you preferred.
so maybe he did feel threatened.
but when you looked at him like heâs the only thing running around your mind, bucky started to calm downâ heart fluttering at how easy it was for you to give him the reassurance he needed.
so, fuck that guy.
âso sweet for me, baby.â bucky groaned softly as you revelled underneath him, letting out chants of his name in strangled moans. âhe canât make you moan like that, can he?â he gave out a smug grin.
his hands were on your hips as you try to grasp the edge of the bathroom sink, the womenâs comfort room in the very same bar bucky had told off a guy a few minutes prior. he had dragged you out of the stool where the both of you sat and religiously kissed your lips as he pressed you against the wall.
âlook at you.â his mouth parted when you looked up to him through the mirror, he found it hot when you challenged the way he maintained eye contact with you. it was even hotter when you did it while he thrusted roughly into you.
skin slick with sweat and insides filled with wetness and spit that bucky used as a lube to push deep inside your glistening cunt as it shined, somehow gripping him tighter than before.
bucky was rougher, meaner, and more intense than he had ever been, markings on your back started to show in red where he trailed his hand, but you had never felt so good.
âshould rile you up even more next time.â you smirked in between breaths, letting out a moan when his vibranium arm pressed down on the back of your neck, you shivered slightly from the cold contact. he did not tighten his grip, it just stayed there to let you know who was in charge.
âyeah?â he chuckled. âthink you can handle that?â
his thrusts did not change its relenting pace, and it seemed that he was getting faster by the minute. his eyes darted on the way your pussy enveloped his length, like it did not want to let go.
âi can handle it.â you nodded, shaking your hips just to tease him more, as if he wasnât already teased out in the maximum level. âcan you?â you added.
he hummed in response. bucky was close. close to killing the guy or cumming? he wasnât sure which to do first.
but when you squirmed underneath him and rolled your eyes at the back of your head, whined his name out loud as the electronic pop music drowned out your pleadsâ he knew not to get jealous of anyone ever again.
Warnings: Jealously from everyone lol, angst (if you could call it that)
Word Count: 845 (without lyrics)
A/N: Jess, @caplansteverogers thank you for letting me do your song fic challenge, I LOVE YOU and if this is bad I am very sorry. Also donât hesitate to let me know if you want to be tagged and feedback is appreciated! Please donât mind any mistakes, I skimmed through this so its kinda unedited.
He stared at her as she looked over her shoulder. She was beautiful, her (y/c/h) hair glistened under the sun. Her (y/c/e) eyes shined as she looked off into the distance. As he followed her gaze it landed on his best friend, Steve Rogers.
OMG Iâm always on and off of tumblr but I saw this. I too think about this series when I hear the song and got its almost been 10 years since I wrote this!! I always say I should go back and finish the for the people but honestly I donât even know how I wanted this story to end. đ„Č
I do hope one day itâll come to me in a eureka moment and I can finally complete this story. But man I havenât written in years toođ
It first started when Lila was teething. In his sleep-deprived state, Bucky let her gnaw on his finger for some relief and also just to stop her from crying. When you both noticed it worked, Bucky became her chew toy for the time being.
You had tried to get her to use something else, but nothing gave her the relief she wanted, and Bucky didn't mind. He found it sweet and gave him a chance to be closer to her.
By the time she was a year old, she started hitting. Every time Bucky was close to her, she beat his metal arm like a drum. Again, you both tried getting her to stop, but the way her face lit up and her giggles filled the room whenever she did it, Bucky caved immediately and let the strange habit continue.
As she got older, her fascination with his arm became less violent as she began tracing the gold lines that ran along it. Whenever he was near her, her hands had to be on him, more specifically, his arm.
When he had to put her down for a nap, she had her fingers dragging along each indent until she eventually lulled herself to sleep.
Then it got to the point where she couldn't sleep without it, and I mean absolutely couldn't. There were so many nights Bucky came into the room with his arm gone and his eyes tired, and all you could think was how a man who was built for war had now become so gentle, giving, utterly and completely hers.
Then she turned three, and all hell broke loose. There wasn't a moment when she wasn't climbing his arm like a tree or wrapped around it like a koala. The sight never failed to give a heart attack. "Bucky put her down", you'd say. "She could fall and get injured", he always brushed off your worries with a kiss and a simple, "I've got her doll."
And he did have her, until he didn't, when she learned how to detach his arm after a trip to Wakanda. So every time he got her 'mad' or just for shits and giggles, she would detach his arm and go running for the hills as her laughs echoed down the hallway, while Bucky reattached his arm for the third time in a row.
So that's where you are now, with a toddler who detaches metal arms to get out of trouble and a grumpy husband with said metal arm. "Doll, I can't take this anymore", Bucky groans as he enters the kitchen, reattaching his arm once again. "All the other things she did with my arm were cute. This one is just horrible". He groaned.
You glanced over your shoulder, trying (and failing) to hide your smile. âSheâs three Buck, her full time job is driving you insane.â He slumped into his chair dramatically, dragging a hand across his face, âShe called me âbad daddyâ because I wouldnât let her put stickers on itâ
You snort, âWell, can you blame her after the birthday incident?â You smile as you move between his legs. He narrows his eyes. âI still have glitter in my elbow joint from thatâ, he muttered, his head now resting on your stomach.
Before you could reply, the soft pattering of feet echoes down the hallway. You both turn to see your daughter; her curls a mess, face all innocent as she twirls the ends of her dress between her fingers.
Bucky smiles softly, âWhatâs the matter, sweet pea?â He asks, still holding onto you as you massage his shoulders. âDaddy, have arm, please?â Her smile is adorably sweet, and Bucky was just about to give in when you intervened.
âNot right now, baby, Daddyâs shoulder is hurting him.â Which wasnât a lie; Buckyâs shoulder was in constant pain from your daughter taking his arm off too much, and he just ignored it to see her happy.
She looked at you like you just told her Santa wasnât real. She sported an Oscar-worthy frown as she folded in on herself, and her eyes welled with crocodile tears. You shifted to lift her into your arms to rest her on your hip.
She pouted, looking just like her father, as she rested her head on your shoulder. You rubbed soothing circles on her back as she let out a tiny sigh, her thumb finding its way to her mouth. "I know, baby", you coo as you gently sway her. "Daddy needs a little break, just for tonight".
She huffs as she cuddles deeper into your chest, and Bucky leans back into his chair, fighting the growing smile on his face. "I'll tell you what," she perks up a little as he continues, "you let me keep the arm tonight so we can help mommy make cookies, and tomorrow we'll play princesses and you can put stickers on daddy's arm, yeah?"
She blinked at him slowly before pulling her thumb out of her mouth, "And glitter?"
Bucky sighed, shaking his head a little, and you can't believe the words that fall from his mouth, "Fine. A little glitter. But none in the elbow joint this time, okay?"
Her face instantly lights up, and her smile just melts your heart. "Okay, daddy!"
She wriggles out of your arms, into Bucky's lap and wraps her arms around his neck. You and Bucky exchange a quiet laugh as he holds her a bit tighter, before she runs off to use her newfound energy elsewhere.
"Tell me why we haven't had a second one yet?" Bucky mutters as his arms find their way around your waist, and his lips travel from your cheeks to your temple.
You smirked. "Because you're arm won't stand a chance against two of them". He scoffs in between kisses, "Don't knock it till you try it, doll," he says smugly before throwing you over his shoulder.
"James!" you shriek, lightly hitting his back as he trudges towards your bedroom, locking the door behind him.
BONUS
A series of giggles and deep belly laughs echo throughout the kitchen. The three of you huddle around a baking tray with some questionably shaped cookie dough, victims of Lila and Bucky's cookie competition that you have the honour of judging.
You watch with a smile as Lila sneaks chocolate chips out of the pack while Bucky figures out how to preheat the oven. "Everything okay over here, Super Soldier?" Your hands wrap around his waist from behind, and you rest your head on his shoulder. "Can you figure this out, please?"
You giggle into his shirt before leading him toward the stove to show him what to do. "Ah! What would I do without you, my love!" He smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.
"Who knows?" You shrug with a smile as you gently take Lila into your arms while Bucky places the tray into the oven.
Summary: Bucky overhears a conversation that makes him worried about your relationship. He acts out of emotion instead of logic.
âIâm just saying, if there are no fights, there is no romance! Itâs just boring!â Yelena spoke firmly as she, Ava, and Walker sat in the back of the armored van.
Buckys ears perked up, he wasnât trying to be nosy, not necessarily. However, that was the only conversation to be heard and now he was helplessly tuned in.
âWhat do you mean? I feel like itâs healthy not to argue! Not everything in life should be a struggle!â Ava rebutted, a smug smirk on her face.
âThere needs to be a balance though, fire and ice!â Walker chimed in and Yelena nodded in agreement.
Bucky smiled to himself, thinking deeply about his relationship with you. The two of you had never argued, never bickered really. There were some slight side comments made here and there but it was never bigger than that.
âI feel like if you never argue youâre too comfortable! Where is the spice? Where is the passion?â Yelena clutched her chest dramatically making both Ava and Walker laugh loudly.
Bucky felt different after hearing that, shifting around in the driver's seat. He always felt safer being the one to drive because it meant he was the one in control. Plus, Alexei was chaotic and his driving made everyone else car-sick.
Alexei was sitting beside Bucky in the passenger seat, munching on a bag of chili-coated peanuts. He eyed Bucky from his peripheral vision, noticing he was now chewing nervously on his bottom lip. âWant snack? You hungry?â He shook the bag of peanuts toward Bucky.
âNo, Iâm fine,â he raised his fingers in protest against the steering wheel, letting out an annoyed sigh as he heard the conversation in the back continuing. Alexei shrugged and went back to looking out the window. He was ready to call it a night as his eyelids felt heavier.
When they got to the watchtower, Bucky was unloading the van with Yelena, and the rest of the team was upstairs making dinner. The two of them grabbed all of the sleeping bags and extra items they used for their weekend mission when Yelena felt Bucky's brooding hit an all-time high.
âOkay, big guy! What is the matter?â Yelena stood with her hand on her hip as Bucky pouted around her. âYou look like someone flushed your fish.â
âFlushed myâŠ? What? Nothing's wrong.â He rolled his eyes, throwing a bulky backpack over his shoulder.
âYou started to drive like Alexei at the end there. We got home 20 minutes before the navigation system said, Youâre not fooling me.â She slammed the back of the armored van shut and started to walk away when Bucky stopped in his tracks.
âY/N and I just never really argue and now Iâm worried.â He mumbled as Yelena kept walking, she heard him but had no plans of slowing down.
âNever?â She asked incredulously.
âNope, never.â Bucky followed her as they took the elevator back to their floor, he stared at his scuffed boots as he waited for her to respond.
âWell, you havenât exactly had an easy go at things. Maybe she is peacekeeping, and thatâs not always a bad thing.â Yelena felt guilty for her words back in the van, knowing Bucky was going to harp on them for the next few days if not, weeks.
âBut you saidâŠ.â Bucky wasnât able to finish before Yelena cut him off.
âI was just talking to pass time! Donât take it so seriously! Y/N is nice girl!â Yelena shrugged before they went their separate ways and Bucky retreated to his bedroom, deciding to skip dinner tonight and go straight to bed instead.
ââââââââ
The next morning Bucky couldnât shake the conversation that Yelena and he had and decided that he was going to try and start an argument with you. He knew it was silly, and that heâd come to regret it but he was desperate to know if you refrained from expressing your feelings to keep him comfortable.
Bucky picked his phone up from his nightstand, it was charging overnight and he was eager to hear your voice even if he was in his head at the moment. He called you, letting out a heavy sigh as the phone rang.
âHey, handsome! Iâm so glad youâre finally home. I missed you!â Your voice was soft, cheery, and everything he needed right now. He was however laser-focused on starting a fight and didnât want to waste any time trying.
âHey! Why didnât you call me last night? I had sent you a message when we got back.â He tried his hardest to sound frustrated, straining his voice to sound raspier than usual.
âOh! I assumed you wanted your sleep! You usually come home, eat, and sleep so I didnât want to throw off your schedule, Iâm sorry baby!â Your voice was caring, kind, and gentle as always. You were also 100% right, and he knew it.
âRight, rightâ he mumbled, trying to think of something additional to say to change the trajectory of the conversation.
âAre you alright?â You knew by the sound of his voice that he had something on his mind.
âNo, Iâm reallyâŠ.â He couldnât believe he was doing this, Was he an overly emotional teenage girl? His emotions were suddenly heightened, and his head was spinning. âIâm actually really upset that you didnât check in with me, it made me feel like you werenât the least bit concerned.â
âBucky? Baby? Iâm always concerned about you! Where is this coming from?â He could hear the sudden tremble in your voice, making his stomach drop with guilt.
âLately I just donât feel so sureâ he lied, he knew he was lying but he couldnât stop himself, he wanted you to fight back, say something that would flip this conversation on its ass but instead you just started to profusely apologize.
âIâm so sorry honey! I never meant to make you feel like that. I always care, I love you. So much!â You sniffled and thatâs when he knew he couldnât continue the charade.
âWell, I gotta go.â he hung up the phone, turning it off before throwing it haphazardly on his bed and throwing his head back into his pillows in frustration.
Twenty minutes later he heard a sudden knock on his bedroom door, and outside of it stood a very irritated Yelena Belova.
âBarnes, open up or Iâll knock this damn door down!â
Bucky groaned as he got out of bed, unlocking his door and stepping aside to let Yelena in. He assumed she must have heard everything that had just gone on, and wanted to yell at him for it.
âNow, why in the hell would you do that?â She stood with her hand on her hip as Bucky sat back down on his bed. âYour girlfriend has been texting me nonstop for the last fifteen minutes asking me if something happened to you.â She scrolled through the numerous texts you had sent her for proof âI knew the conversation had gotten into your pea-sized brain but you really tried to start an argument with her?â
âWhat conversation?â Your voice trembled as both Bucky and Yelena hadnât heard you enter the room. Bob stood beside you for a moment before going to hide in the corner in his favorite beanbag chair.
You had crumbs of mascara littered across your cheeks, your eyes were red like they had been freshly washed with soap and Bucky felt an immediate wave of guilt wash over him.
âDoll? Shouldnât you be at work?â He wasnât sure why he said that maybe it was a startled reaction to seeing you but Yelena turned to him âYou wanted a fight, I think youâre going to get one.â She audibly scoffed as she stepped out of his room, shaking her head obviously as she stepped out of your way.
âThatâs all youâre going to say to me? After you accused me of not caring about you?â You had the attention of all of his teammates, they had stopped in their tracks as they watched the dramatic sight unfold around them.
Bucky stepped toward you, he felt like the worldâs worst person right now and he wanted to fix it immediately but as soon as he stepped toward you, you stepped back and further away.
âWhat is Yelena talking about? What conversation Bucky?â You had your arms folded, and now your sadness flickered to anger and Bucky could feel the heat radiating off of you.
âI donât knowâŠâ he quietly mumbled as he looked around at his teammates who were all tuned into the drama.
You turned to Ava, Yelena, and Walker who were whispering to one another. âWhat the fuck is going on? Someone speak! Now!â
None of the team had ever seen you upset, for as long as youâd been around them they had known you to be shy, and reserved. Alexei laughed to himself knowing never to make a woman especially a woman who loves you angry, and Bucky had really done it now.
âYelena said that people in relationships who never argue are boring, and I guess that got into his head. Which might I add is pretty easy to do, am I right?â Walker laughed obnoxiously, trying to ease the tension in the room.
âUncalled forâ you scoffed and rolled your eyes. âIâm mad at him right now but that was still a low blow even for you.â
Yelena and Ava mirrored wide-eyed expressions at one another as Walker took that as a sign to be quiet.ïżŒ
Bucky fought back a smile knowing how much Walker got under your skin, and even if you were pissed at him right now youâd still defend him. âPlease? Come into my room and we can talk.â His eyes were pleading, and you knew he hated every second of this very emotional outburst happening in front of everyone.
You followed him into his room, sitting on his bed as he paced in front of you.
âTalkâ your tone was rough, still obviously frustrated.
âYelena suggested that maybe we didnât argue because you were trying to peace keep, and it made me feel like maybe when things bother you, you donât want to tell me. Maybe you think I canât handle it? I just wanted to push the boundaries today and I shouldnât have.â He had run his hand through his hair about ten times just getting all of that out to you, and now he was standing still like a statue waiting for you to respond.
âYouâre right, you shouldnât have. We donât argue because youâve never upset me until today. I thought we were good at communicating and then you said you felt like I didnât care. Bucky, if anything I care too much!â Your voice cracked and Bucky felt like his heart did too.
âIâm sorry for what I said, honey. I swear I didnât mean it. I know you care about me, and I never question that. I guess I just didnât want you to think what we have is boring or think you couldnât talk to me.â He sat down beside you, reaching for your hand cautiously.
You let out a chuckle, a small breathy one but Bucky still heard it. You grabbed his hand, setting it on your lap as your fingers intertwined. âYou think, that I would ever consider you or our relationship as boring? I mean look where we are right now.â
âI mean, I donât know. I donât know why I let it bother me so much.â He nervously chuckled, feeling you ease up beside him. âI love you and Iâm sorry for that, it was immature and I shouldâve just talked to you. I never meant to make you cry, and Iâm sorry for that too.â
You leaned over, kissing his cheek softly. âI love you too, and yeah next time just talk to me instead of being a teenage girl about it.â He knew you were teasing but his cheeks still grew warm with embarrassment.
âFor what itâs worth, can I say something?â He was holding back a laugh, and you could tell by the way his lips were tightly pressed together.
âJust say itâ you smiled knowing what was coming next just by the way he was looking at you.
âYouâre sexy when youâre mad. It was doing something to me.â He knew that would make you smile, but wasnât necessarily a lie either.
âYou like that I put Walker in his place, donât you?â
âYeah, yeah I didâ Bucky chuckled before leaning over taking your face in his cupped hands to passionately kiss your lips like a man starved.
âGood because if he keeps making jokes like that Iâm going to put poison ivy in his suitâ you mumbled between kisses.
âOoooh- promise?â Bucky chuckled as the two of you flopped down on his bed to continue kissing, your legs wrapped around his.
Summary: You crossed a line to finish the mission. Bucky saw it. Now heâs going to remind you who that pussy belongs toâwith his mouth, his cock, and his name on your lips.
Disclaimer: 18+ (mdni!), explicit smut content, p in v (doggy + missionary), oral (f receiving & m receiving), facial + cumplay, overstimulation, marking, possessive!bucky, jealousy sex, creampie, shower aftercare, dominance (non-degrading), soft switch tension
Word Count: 5.9k
Author's Note: Hope you'll love my take on Bucky's more dominant side too. Thanks for reading đ
âJust get the intel,â Bucky muttered, catching your wrist before you could step out of the SUV.
His grip wasnât hardâbut it stopped you. That said everything.
You turned, your eyes dropping to the flesh fingers wrapped around your wrist, then rising to meet his face. His jaw flexed. Tension rolled off him, held back behind stubble and armor and a soldierâs discipline he wore like a second skin. But it was more than that.
He knew how this worked. You both did. Sometimes missions blurred into seduction. Sometimes flirtation was the weapon.
Stillâhe breathed out, voice dropping. âI know what this is. I know youâve gotta flirt. Play the part. Thatâs fine.â
You held his gaze, silent.
âBut Iâm gonna be in that room too,â he added, quieter now, almost like it hurt to say. âWatching him look at you. Listening to every word you say in my goddamn ear. And I can take a lot, but Iâm still a man, alright?â
His thumb brushed across your pulseâgentle now. âJust donât overdo it. Donât give him more than whatâs needed. Donât make me sit there and hear you moan in his ear like it doesnât fucking ruin me.â
The last part nearly broke in his throat. It wasnât anger. It was something else. Something hot and human, coated in restraint.
You softened.
âI know,â you said, quieter. âItâs just a means to an end, Bucky. You have my word. Iâll do just enough.â
His eyes searched yours like he needed to be sure. Needed it anchored.
You gave him a small nod.
But deep inside, you knew.
These missions never stuck to plan. Sometimes the target needed a little push. Sometimesâwhen the drug took too long, when the man was strong, when timing burned too fastâyou had to exaggerate. Make it look real.
And maybe, just maybeâŠ
tonight would cross that line.
â
The club slammed into your sensesâbass pounding through the floor, lights slicing in deep violet and strobe white. The air smelled like sweat, spilled liquor, and desperate heat. You walked in wrapped in that second-skin black silk, your dress clinging to every curve like it had been poured on. Short. Low-cut. Slick with sin.
You didnât head to the target right away. You let yourself exist firstâmoving through the room like your heels wrote every beat of the music. You knew the asset was watching. You felt his eyes from the second you crossed the threshold.
Two tables behind, you knew Bucky was watching, too. Close enough to cover you. Far enough to let you work. His voice echoed in your head even now: âDonât make me sit there and hear you moan in his ear like it doesnât fucking ruin me.â
You swallowed it down. Focused.
The asset looked exactly as briefedâex-military bulk softened by money and whiskey. Sharp eyes. Thick hands. Smiling like he already owned the room.
His men came to you, one leaning in just enough to graze your hip. âHeâd like to meet you.â
You smiled. Innocent. Deadly. âThatâs sweet. But I like to make the first move.â
You crossed the space, hips swaying. His gaze never left your legs.
In your hand: a glass of vodka, clear as a lie. Laced. Fast-acting. Measured.
You slid into the booth beside him, placing the drink between you.
âDidnât think a man like you would have to send others to flirt for him,â you said, voice like warm smoke.
He chuckled, slow. âI like efficiency.â
You stirred the vodka with your fingerâsmooth, teasingâthen pulled it back and offered the glass with a smirk. âSo do I.â
He took it. Drank. Eyes never leaving the curve of your mouth.
You leaned in, just close enough for your perfume to do the talking. âThis kind of attention you always get, or am I just special?â
He let his gaze drop, soaking in the cleavage framed perfectly by the dress. âYouâre not like the girls I usually see here.â
âIâm not a girl,â you murmured. âAnd youâre not just some guy, either.â
You let it linger in the air. Heavy. Coded.
He shifted closer. âYou speak in riddles?â
âI speak in trades,â you said, voice low. âYou look like a man who deals in things that shouldnât be touched.â
He smiled, drunk on youâbut not drunk enough. The serum shouldâve hit harder by now. Shouldâve softened his eyes, loosened his tongue. But he was sharp. Solid. The clock was ticking.
You glanced toward Buckyâs table.
He didnât move. Didnât speak. But your skin burned under the weight of his stare.
You knew what you were about to do would hurt him.
But this wasnât a game anymore.
So you swung a leg over the assetâs lap and settled down, smooth and slow. The hem of your dress barely covered your ass now, riding up just enough to reveal the snug stretch of your tactical shortsâblack, skin-tight, regulation-issue but cut scandalously high for mobility. His eyes dipped lower, breath catching as the illusion unraveled.
Your shorts pressed flush against the bulge already forming beneath him, the fabric thin but secureâbarrier, not invitation. His breath hitched. His hands landed at your waist, eager and clumsy, fingertips brushing the edge of nylon instead of skin. You let your hips roll once, slow, deliberateânot to tease, but to extract. Mechanical. Controlled. Just enough friction to fry his brain and loosen his tongue.
âWhat are you guarding so tight?â you whispered in his ear. âWhere does it sleep? Who tucks it in?â
He groaned, breath hitching. âRed Hook⊠basement level⊠old biotech clinicâfrontâs shut down. Back entrance behind the deli. Third keypad to the left⊠codeâs three-nine-alphaâŠâ
You tilted your head to let him nibble your earlobe while he spoke, your hands running lazily over his chest. You hated it. Hated every second. But your face didnât show it.
Not until his words slurred. His grip slackened. And his head dropped back.
Out cold.
The drink finally worked.
You climbed off slowly, fixing your dress with careful fingers.
And when you stood?
You didnât need to look.
You felt Buckyâs stare drilling into your spine. Hot. Furious. Silent.
Youâd done what you promised.
Just enough.
Barely.
But the line had been razor-thin.
And the aftermath?
It was coming for you.
â
Bucky didnât say a word when you stepped away from the asset.
Didnât look at you.
Didnât nod.
Didnât even breathe your direction.
He just turned. Shoulders drawn tight. Vibranium fist clenched. He moved fast, controlled, vanishing through the back exit of the club like he couldnât stand to be in the same room as you one second longer.
The comm in your ear clicked off.
That silence hit harder than any slap.
You stood there for a breathâdress still slightly hiked, heart hammering against your ribsâbefore forcing your legs to move. Every step down the hallway felt heavier. Guilt wrapped around your spine like ice. You hadnât wanted to go that far. But youâd known the second the serum lagged that it was either that grind⊠or let the op slip through your fingers.
You pushed through the alley door into the night.
The air outside was sharp and sourâwet asphalt, exhaust, the dull hum of street noise. The black SUV waited by the curb, engine already running. Bucky sat behind the wheel, face cast in the glow of the dash lights. Vibranium hand flexed once on the wheel. Then again.
You approached carefully, like he might shatter if you spoke too soon.
You slid into the passenger seat. Closed the door softly.
He didnât look at you. Didnât speak.
Just stared straight ahead, jaw locked, teeth clenched so tight it looked painful. The city passed in silence as he pulled out onto the road, hands steady, eyes burning holes in the traffic.
You glanced down at your lap, fingers fidgeting. âI had to get him talking before the serum kicked in,â you said quietly. âHe was resisting it harder than expected.â
Still nothing.
âBuckyâŠâ
He exhaledâthrough his nose. Sharp. Barely contained.
âI know why you did it.â
His voice came out flat. Controlled.
You turned toward him, catching the hard line of his jaw, the way that vein in his neck was still ticking.
âI justâhe was slipping under, and I knew if I didnât do something, Iâd lose him. I wasnât enjoying itââ
âBut you fucking ground your hips on him,â Bucky snapped, eyes finally cutting to you. His voice didnât rise, but it cracked, broken glass under velvet. âYou pressed your body against another manâs cock like it wasnât mine youâre supposed to be riding.â
Your breath hitched. Shame curled in your stomach like fire.
âI didnât want to,â you said. âIt was only ever for you.â
He looked away again, jaw flexing hard.
âI get it,â he said, after a moment. âI do.â
But it didnât sound like understanding.
It sounded like restraint.
He said nothing else.
Just kept driving.
Until his right handâthe flesh oneâleft the gear shift and slid onto your thigh. Slowly. Hot.
You blinked, heart skipping. His palm moved up, lifting your dress inch by inch until the tactical shorts underneath came into viewâthin, black, still dry against your skin. A reminder: that entire act, that entire grind? It meant nothing. No arousal. No pleasure. Just strategy.
But when his fingers slid under the waistband?
When his knuckles brushed your heat?
Thatâs when your breath hitched.
Because you started getting wet thenâonly then. Your body responding to him, and no one else.
He paused for half a second. Felt the shift. The slow bloom of warmth between your thighs.
A low growl rumbled from his chest.
âLook at that,â he muttered, voice low, dark, possessive. âYouâre only getting wet now, sweetheart. Not for him. Not up there in his fucking lap.â
You whimpered, your thighs tensing, hips twitching toward his touch.
âThis?â His fingers pushed deeper. âThis is mine. No one gets this but me.â
âOnly you,â you breathed, voice barely holding. âOnly you, Buck.â
His fingers pumped slow at firstâtwo⊠then three. His thumb flicked your clit in lazy circles while the pads of his fingers curled up, hitting that spot that made your mouth fall open in a gasp.
You moaned. Soft. Stifled.
But not enough.
âSay my name,â he growled. âSay it like it fucking means something.â
You tried. Choked on it.
He fucked his fingers in deeper.
âSay it.â
âBucky,â you gasped, the sound breaking free as your head tipped back. âBuckyâpleaseââ
He swerved hard into a side street. Then another. Pulled into an alley dark as sin, hidden behind crates and dumpsters and silence. He slammed the car into park. Killed the lights.
Turned toward you with that fire in his eyes.
â
âBack seat,â he ordered. âShorts off. Now.â
You didnât question it.
Didnât ask.
You scrambled over the center console, breath caught in your chest, heat pooling between your thighs. The dress was already bunched around your waist, riding high. You leaned back against the cold window, knees bent on the seat, and finally hooked your fingers under the edge of your tactical shortsâstill clinging to your thighs, still damp with your own guilt.
You peeled your shorts down, slow but shaky, skin prickling as you dragged them past your knees and tossed them aside. The leather was cold beneath you, but your body burned hot. You shifted, leaned back against the SUV window, legs parting instinctively in the tight space.
Through the tinted glass, you saw Bucky climb out of the front seat, jaw tight, eyes stormy.
He slammed the door behind him, hard enough to rattle the frameâthen opened the rear passenger side.
And when he stepped in, he filled the entire space.
Broad shoulders ducked low, head nearly brushing the ceiling, body moving with purpose as he sank into the backseat with you. The air between you thickened instantlyâhot, electric, inevitable.
He was everywhere. The space felt smaller with him inside itâbroad shoulders brushing the roof, body folding awkwardly in the tight quarters, but he made it work. He always did. And now, he was on his knees between your thighs, crouched over you, arms braced on either side like a man caging whatâs his.
âNo more pretending,â he rasped, breath thick, eyes locked on your dripping heat.
He gripped your thighs, calloused fingers digging in, spreading you wide open.
âNo more acting.â
Then his breath hit your folds. Hot. Possessive.
âAnd no one,â he growled, voice dark and deadly, âwill ever make you come the way I do.â
Then he buried his face in your pussy like it was his fucking prize.
Not soft.
Not slow.
But god, not careless either.
He licked you like he needed it to breatheâtongue flat and strong, dragging up your slit and latching onto your clit like he was starving for it. He sucked hard. Claimed it. The sound of itâwet, lewd, hungryâfilled the cramped SUV, echoing off the windows.
You moaned, legs already trembling, head thudding softly against the glass.
He groaned into youâtongue flicking, circling, devouringâlike he knew exactly how your body worked and wanted to remind you who trained it. His nose brushed your mound, his chin soaked with you, his mouth relentless.
It wasnât just need.
It was marking.
Like he was writing his name in your cunt with every lick, letting the whole damn city know whose you were.
You squirmed, overwhelmed, but he locked your hips in place.
âStay still,â he warned, voice raw against your skin. âTake it. You owe me this.â
You gasped, back arching, nails digging into his scalp.
âJamesâfuckââ
âSay it louder,â he growled, licking harder now. âI want it echoing in your fucking skull the next time you let someone else touch whatâs mine.â
âBucky,â you choked out. âBucky, pleaseâIâmââ
Your voice shattered as the orgasm slammed through youâhot, fast, brutal. You came on his mouth with your thighs trembling and his name torn from your throat like it was ripped from the center of you.
But he didnât stop.
Even as you cried out, shaking, spentâhe kept going.
He licked you through it, slow and thorough. Cleaning you up. Tasting you like you were the only thing that could calm the fire still burning in his chest. His mouth dragged along your folds like he needed more. Like heâd never get enough.
When he finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, chin soaked, eyes burning.
He leaned up, voice rough and quiet.
âMine.â
Then he backed out of the seat and got behind the wheel againâstill hard, still silent, cock straining against his pants as he shifted back into drive.
He didnât look at you.
Didnât have to.
You were panting in the passenger seat, legs still spread, cunt still aching from his mouth.
And the safehouse?
Ten minutes away.
You werenât going to walk out of that room.
You were going to crawl.
â
Bucky killed the engine like it had offended him. His hands were still tight on the wheel. His cock was straining, painful in his pants, his breath ragged from holding back ever since he licked you raw in the backseat.
He got out firstâdoor slamming shut behind himâthen moved to the rear.
The moment the back door opened, you blinked up at him, legs still parted slightly, the hem of your black dress bunched indecently high on your hips. Your tactical shorts were somewhere on the floorboard. Forgotten.
His jaw ticked hard.
Without a word, he reached inâgripped your waist, fingers biting into your skinâand pulled you out like you weighed nothing. You gasped, hands flying to his shoulders, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
You could feel his cock through the rough fabric of his pantsâthick, hot, pressed right between your thighs.
Your lips crashed into his before either of you could think.
It was rough. All tongue and teeth. No rhythm. Just claiming. His vibranium hand gripped your waist to keep you balanced, fingers pressing through the dress. His flesh hand slipped lowâcupping your bare ass under the hem, gripping, kneading.
You moaned against his mouth, and he answered with a groan that rumbled from deep in his chest.
He carried you like thatâmouth on yours, kissing like he was branding youâtoward the front door of the safehouse. His back hit the wall as he fumbled for the keypad, keying in the code with fast, practiced taps. The lock clicked.
The door opened.
He stepped inside, still holding you up, the door swinging shut behind with a deep slam that vibrated through the floor.
You didnât stop kissing.
You couldnât stop.
He walked you deeper inside, mouth never leaving yours, breath hot, cock twitching against the heat of you. Each step toward the bedroom felt like another second he was barely keeping it together.
By the time he reached the doorway, you were gasping into his mouthâdesperate, wrecked, clinging.
He broke the kiss with a heavy breath. Set you down slowly, like he was restraining the urge to throw you on the bed and rip the rest of your clothes off in one go.
His eyes dropped, dragging down your body.
Then he spokeâvoice low, rough, possessive.
âStrip. All of it.â
You didnât hesitate. Hands went to the hem of your dress, still clinging to your skinâwrinkled from the SUV, soaked with heat and sweat. The black silk slipped up your body in one smooth pull, dragging across your hips, your waist, your breasts.
The backless cut slid over your shoulders like a final sigh before you tossed it aside.
No bra. Just bare skin. Breasts flushed and rising with your breath. Nipples tight. Still sensitive from the way youâd been edged on the drive here.
Buckyâs jaw flexed. His eyes droppedâdrank in everything.
He knew. Heâd seen the way the fucker had looked at you. Had seen his eyes drop to your cleavage over and over again. Had heard the bastard groan when your pussy rubbed against his lap.
And now here you wereânaked in front of him.
And he was the only one who got to touch.
As you stood there naked, his hands went to the buttons of his shirt. He popped them open one by oneâquick, clean. Then peeled it off and let it drop to the floor behind him.
His pants?
He unbuttoned them. That was it. He met your gaze as he pushed the waistband down just an inchâenough to reveal the shadow of V-lines and the thick bulge still fighting for release.
He stepped closer, low voice sharp and steady:
âYou started this.â
His gaze dropped to your still-wet cunt.
âNow youâre gonna take everything Iâve got.â
â
Buckyâs pants were already unbuttoned, low on his hips, the thick shape of him straining against black boxer briefs. He looked down at you, chest rising and falling, eyes dark and hungry.
âOn your knees,â he rasped. âYou wanna make it up to me, sweetheart? Start there.â
You dropped instantlyâknees hitting the hardwood, palms sliding up his thighs.
He hissed through his teeth when you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and dragged them down just enough.
His cock sprang free.
Hard. Thick. Flushed deep red at the tip and already leaking. Your mouth watered.
He watched you watch him. Smirked like he was reading your mind.
âLike what you see?â he murmured. âIs this what you were thinking about while grinding on that fuckerâs lap?â
You shook your head, breath shallow, voice barely a whisper. âOnly ever think about yours.â
He stepped closer, cock inches from your lips. âSay it again.â
âOnly want your cock,â you said, eyes locked on his. âAlways.â
âYeah?â He reached down, wrapped his metal hand around the base, gave it one slow stroke. âYou want it in that pretty mouth?â
You didnât answer. You just opened your mouth and took him.
The first inch made his hips stutter. The next made him groan.
âFuuuck, babyâŠâ
You slid your tongue along the underside, hollowing your cheeks as you sank lowerâtaking more, deeper, until your nose brushed his pelvis and spit started to drip down your chin. You bobbed your head with purpose, working him like youâd done this a hundred timesâlike his cock was the only thing you were meant to swallow.
He hissed, one hand gripping your hair, the other braced against the wall behind him.
âGod damnâyou look so fucking good with my cock in your mouth.â His voice was gravel now. âSo fuckinâ perfect⊠every inch of it.â
You moaned around himâon purposeâtongue curling just right, letting the sound vibrate through his shaft.
His hips jerked forward and he groaned. Deep. Raw.
âOh, you like that, huh?â he growled. âYou like the taste of my cock? Like how it fills that needy little throat?â
You moaned again, this time louder, eyes fluttering shut as you sucked harderâlips tight around him, spit pooling at the corners.
âLook at you,â he panted. âSo desperate to please me. All that shit back there, and now youâre here⊠gagging for it.â
You swallowed around him once. Then again.
He let out a broken, wrecked sound that made your thighs clench.
âMy cock,â he muttered, voice gone low and fucked-out. âAlways gonna be yours, baby. No one else gets it. No one else deserves it.â
â
Your throat was wrecked from the effortâslick with spit, lips swollen around his cock as you sucked him deeper, faster, like you couldnât get enough of the taste of him.
Buckyâs hips twitched, breath hissing through his teeth, every muscle in his thighs taut.
âFuckâdonât stop, baby. Donât you fuckinâ stopââ
You moaned around him again, greedy and soft, and that was it.
His grip in your hair tightenedâhis thighs lockedâand then his cock pulsed once, twice, and he let go with a deep, broken groan.
Hot, thick ropes of cum painted your face.
Across your cheek. Your lips. Your chin. A drip landed at the corner of your mouth, warm and heavy. He held your head still, letting it happen. Letting you take it.
âFuckinâ perfect,â he panted. âJust like that.â
You stayed there, kneeling, breath shallow and mouth partedâcum dripping down your skin, cooling in the air. Dazed. Ruined.
But he wasnât done admiring you.
He reached down, cupped your jaw in both handsâflesh and vibraniumâguiding you up, slow, until you were standing again, swaying slightly on your feet. His thumbs dragged through the mess he left, smearing it across your flushed cheeks, his eyes devouring every inch.
Then he leaned in.
And licked it off your skin.
His tongue dragged up your cheekâslow, filthyâthen circled the corner of your mouth. He moaned low, like the taste of his own cum on your skin satisfied something animal in him.
âMine,â he growled, voice dark and reverent. âYou wear it so fuckinâ well.â
You whimpered, eyes half-lidded as his tongue lapped once moreâthis time over your bottom lip.
Then, without warning, his arms wrapped around your thighs and lifted you clean off the floor.
You gasped as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, arms clutching his shoulders. His cock, still hard and leaking, pressed between your soaked foldsâbarely touching, just there, heavy and teasing as he walked you across the room toward the bed.
You felt itâevery stepâthe way your slick coated his length, the head of him bumping your clit, sliding through your folds as he carried you.
âFuck,â he muttered, smirking against your neck. âYouâre dripping for me only, arenât you?â
His flesh hand gripped your ass tight, fingers spreading across the soft skin like he owned it.
âYou dirty little slut,â he growledâvoice smug, filthy, hungry. âAll this mess, and youâre still so fucking wet for me.â
You moaned against his throat, clinging to him tighter.
âYou think sucking me off makes it even?â he breathed. âNah. Youâre not off the hook, sweetheart. Not âtil Iâve fucked that grind out of your memory.â
He reached the bed.
Dropped you onto the mattress with a low grunt, his chest heaving.
â
You looked up just in time to see him wrap one hand around his cockâthick, flushed, still slick with your spit and the mess between your thighs. He stroked himself once, slow, his jaw clenching tight as his hand glided over the length.
Your slick made every sound wetter, filthier. And he watched you like you were prey.
âTurn around,â he saidâvoice low, gravel-wrapped filth. âBack to me.â
You obeyed instantly.
Rolled over, lifted your hips, and grabbed the nearest pillowâpropping yourself up just right. Your chest sank into the sheets as your ass rose high, knees spread wide to accommodate for his size, your folds glistening and parted, waiting for him.
You heard it. That sound. That moan he didnât even try to hold back.
âFuck, look at you,â he breathed. âSo perfect. So fucking obedient for me.â
You arched deeper, giving him more. Offering yourself the way he likedâcompletely. Without hesitation.
He stepped between your legs and ran the thick head of his cock through your foldsâgathering slick, bumping your clit once, twice, making you whimper into the sheets.
âYouâre soaked,â he muttered, voice low and tight. âDripping all over me.â
Then he pushed in.
Slow.
Deep.
Thick.
The stretch made your mouth fall open, eyes squeezed shut as he filled you with one steady thrustâyour cunt sucking him in, clenching around every inch.
âGoddamn,â he groaned, hands gripping your hips. âYou were made for this cock.â
You whimpered, body tensing, back arching deeper.
âYeah⊠thatâs it, baby,â he murmured, rocking in just a little more. âFeel that? Feel how tight you are around me? Fuckinâ gripping me.â
He bottomed out, hips pressed against your ass, and let out a low, broken moan.
âShit. So fucking good. This pussyâthis cuntâwas made to take me.â
Then he started moving.
Thrusting hard. Controlled. Not roughâbut not gentle either. A rhythm built for branding, for claiming, every movement steady and deliberate. His cock slammed into you with that perfect dragâthick and hot, sliding through soaked walls that welcomed every inch like it belonged there.
You moaned into the pillow, fingers gripping the sheets, your thighs trembling as he fucked you deeper.
âLook at you,â he rasped. âAss up, knees wide, taking every fucking inch like a good little slut.â
You whimperedâbecause it wrecked you when he said it like that. Not to degrade, but to own. To punish you in pleasure.
âMy good girl,â he moaned. âYouâre so fucking wet for me. Clenching like you need it.â
Each thrust slammed your hips forward, his grip unrelenting, cock buried in you over and over again, the sound of skin on skin filthy and perfect.
And he wasnât even close to done.
â
You were moaning into the pillow, fingers clawing at the sheets, every thrust dragging you closer to the edge.
âBuckyâfuckâIâm gonna come,â you gasped, voice high and wrecked, thighs trembling under the force of him.
But his hands didnât slow.
If anything, they tightened on your hips.
âNot yet,â he growled. âNot the fucking time, baby.â
His hand tangled in your hair, tugging your head backânot too rough, just firm, in chargeâuntil your spine arched and your mouth fell open in a cry.
Then he slammed into you harder. Deeper.
You could barely breathe. His cock pounded into you from behind, thick and relentless, dragging over every perfect spot inside you. Your slick made it loud, each thrust a wet slap that echoed through the room.
You sobbed, close, body twitching.
âPlease, BuckyâI canâtââ
He yanked your hair againâharder this timeâuntil you were upright, your back flush to his chest, ass pressed against his hips. You whimpered, the new angle hitting you even deeper, your cunt fluttering around him as your orgasm crashed through you with violent, blinding heat.
You squirted, soaking his cock, the sheets, everything.
And Bucky? Fucking smirked.
âGoddamn,â he grunted, cock twitching inside you. âLook at that mess, baby. Look at what you gave me. No oneâs ever made you come like that.â
You were shaking, limp in his armsâbut he didnât let go.
Didnât stop.
He kept goingâfucking you through the aftershocks, through the overstimulation, through the trembling cries that spilled from your mouth as your pussy clenched again and again.
âBuckyâJames pleaseâtoo muchââ
Your voice broke, hoarse, desperate, head falling back onto his shoulder.
But he just moaned into your ear, voice filthy and breathless.
âNo, baby. You donât get to tap out yet.â
His teeth grazed your jaw as he drove into you again, rougher now, cock dragging through your soaked walls like he was trying to ruin them.
âThisâs what happens,â he growled, âwhen you grind your pretty little pussy on another manâs lap.â
You sobbed again, your cunt fluttering around him uncontrollably.
âYou let him feel it,â he panted, hips slamming up into you. âNow I get to remind it who the fuck it belongs to.â
You whimpered, hands slipping off your thighs, too weak to hold yourself up.
He caught you, arm locked under your chest, still fucking into you like it was the only language he spoke.
âThis pussy,â he whispered, voice low and dangerous, âis mine. Say it.â
â
Your voice broke againââBuckyâtoo muchâpleaseââ
And this time, instead of pleading the word, you meant it.
You reached back, tapping his thigh gently, hips squirming away as your overstimulated cunt fluttered helplessly around him. Your hand slid to his, guiding it away, your body trembling in the cradle of his chest.
He got the message.
He slowed.
Breathed heavy against your back⊠and finally let you go.
He pulled out with a low, drawn-out groanâhis cock slick, flushed, twitching from the effort not to come right there. He sat back on his knees, then dropped off the bed, standing at the foot now, watching you like something sacred.
You moved slow. Gently flipped onto your back, thighs still shaking. You folded your knees up, spread them apart, presenting yourself with your head tipped to the side, hair messy against the sheets. Your fingers slipped between your folds, teasing yourselfâwet, messy, flushed from being pounded raw. You looked at him through heavy, lidded eyes.
âMy pretty little pussyâs only for you, baby.â
His mouth parted.
His body twitched.
âFuuucking Christ,â he muttered, voice half-broken, hand running down his face. âYouâre gonna fucking kill me.â
He climbed back onto the bedâover you nowâknees braced to either side of your hips, cock bobbing near your entrance but not touching yet. He leaned in and kissed youâreally kissed you. Slow. Deep. Tongue sliding against yours with a reverence that made your chest ache.
He pulled back just enough to pant against your lips. âI fucking love you,â he moaned. âEvery part of you. Every inch. You know that, right?â
You nodded, dazed, breathless. âI know. I love you too.â
He kissed you againâone hand cradling your face, the other made of vibranium, cold but careful as it slid down your chest. He cupped your breast, thumb teasing the peak, fingers squeezing gently. Your nipple twitched under the metal and he smirked against your mouth.
âSo sensitive,â he whispered.
Then he slid down your body, vibranium fingers trailing from your breast to your slick heat. He circled your clit gently, slow and patient nowâjust enough pressure to make your hips jerk. You were so wet still. So open.
One vibranium finger slipped in.
You gasped.
He groaned.
âStill clenching,â he murmured. âStill so fucking tight for me.â
He thrust it slowly once, twice, and then pulled it outâwatching your walls twitch around the loss.
Then he grabbed his cockâthick, veined, soakedâand lined himself up again. He braced one hand on the mattress, the other at your thigh, and pushed back insideâslow and deep, his moan shaking through your chest.
Not rough this time.
Not punishing.
But no less intense.
He fucked you with love nowâhips rolling into yours, cock dragging over every sensitive spot like he knew the shape of you from the inside out.
Every thrust said: youâre mine. I love you. Youâre safe.
And your pussy soaked it in like it never wanted anything else.
â
Buckyâs thrusts were slow and deep now, rolling through you like wavesâhis hands sliding under your thighs to press your legs higher, folding you up just the way he knew drove you wild.
âHold them here,â he whispered, voice rough and reverent as he guided your knees up toward your chest. âLet me in deeper, baby.â
You obeyed, trembling slightly as your knees framed your chest, and he slid in all the wayâhis cock dragging through your dripping, overstimulated walls with a rhythm that felt like he was fucking straight into your soul.
He leaned down, pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to your throat, your collarboneâthen sucked, just enough to leave hickeys blooming across your skin.
Marks.
Proof.
His.
âI love you,â he murmured between kisses. âLove your body. Love this pussy. Love you.â
His thrusts deepened, hips rocking harder nowâcontrolled but urgent.
âYou love me too, right?â he whispered near your ear, voice quieter now. âYou only act like that with me, yeah? Only mine, baby?â
You nodded, breath catching, hands gripping his shoulders. âOnly you, Bucky. Always you.â
That broke him.
âFuck,â he groanedâjust as your orgasm slammed through you again.
You clenched around him, crying out his name, and he came with youâcock pulsing deep inside as he filled you with heat, hips jerking forward in short, frantic bucks. His moans were wrecked, low and filthy against your neck.
Even after he emptied everything into you, he didnât move.
Didnât pull out.
He shifted, carefullyâsliding one arm under your back, the other under your thighâuntil he could lay beside you in that tight fit of tangled limbs. His cock still inside, your bodies joined. Your walls fluttered around him in soft, pulsing squeezes, but they were easing now, slowing. Content.
You exhaled, eyes closed, lips parted.
Done.
So full of him.
So full of love.
He left soft, fluttery kisses on your cheek. Then a plush one on your lips.
You smiled against his mouth.
âBaby,â he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. âWe gotta clean you up. We still need to shower.â
You hummed, too tired to lift your head. âYou carry me. I canât feel my legs.â
He chuckled. âI got you.â
â
The water was warm, steam curling around your bodies. Bucky stood behind you, gently massaging shampoo into your hair with careful fingers, rinsing you like you were made of something breakable. His cock had softened, finally, resting against your lower back.
âIâm sorry,â he mumbled into your wet shoulder. âIf I was too rough. If I hurt you.â
You shook your head lightly, water cascading down your back. âIâd do the same if you were the one grinding on another woman.â
He stilled behind you.
You added, voice soft but dark, âActually⊠Iâd probably do worse. Maybe a little dick-chopping.â
Silence.
ThenââJesus fuck,â Bucky muttered, stepping back half a step. âYouâre not joking.â
You turned your head slightly, smirking. âI donât joke about that kind of thing.â
He grabbed your shoulders gently to turn you around. The shampoo dripped down your temples, eyes squinted closed as you faced him.
He cradled your cheeks in his palms, kissed your nose once, then said with absolute sincerity:
âI swear on my long-ass life⊠I will never, ever test that.â
You both laughedâsoft and tiredâyour foreheads resting against each other under the water.
Summary: A quiet afternoon turns chaotic when Bucky tries to fix the kitchen sink with help from his daughter , only for a hilarious miscommunication through the window with his wife to turn into something unexpectedly tender.
Word count: 1.6K+
Content: nothing but fluff , slight but cute miscommunication , mentions of pregnancy , kissing / flirting (you and bucky)
a/n: ummmm so I just wrote chapter 11 for muscle memory and made myself cry , its the roughest and hardest chapter yet and now needs a trigger warning đ so heres this as i needed something to heal my sadness from writing ch. 11.
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âOkay , Bug , go ahead and hand me the wrench. The little silver one , please.â
Rebecca squinted her blue eyes , her little tongue poking out in concentration as she dug through the open red toolbox beside her tiny feet.Â
She wore her purple tutu over jeansâbecause she liked to be both princess fancy and ready for any emergencies; hint the jeans âand a green t-shirt with a smiling cartoon flower on it. Her wild curls were tucked under a sparkly headband with a crooked plastic tiara hot glued right on top.
âThis one , Daddy?â She held up a tool she thought was right.
âNope , thatâs the pliers. Try again.â He peeked from under the sink.
She gave an exaggerated huff , rummaging through the box dramatically. Bucky chuckled from where he lay half-under the kitchen sink , the lower half of his torso sticking out like a mechanic rolled under a car on his back.Â
His t-shirt was slightly damp now , his hands and arms slick with water , and his face was already dotted with smudges from the gunk hiding under the pipes. This job had not gone the way he planned.
âYou okay down there?â Ladybug , as they affectionately called their daughter asked , squatting beside him , peering upside down into his face.
The nickname was thought of when her mom was nine months pregnant with her and as she was outside watering her roses a small ladybug landed on the skin where her round belly poked out from under one of Bucky's flannels. And after that the name just stuck.
âLiving the dream , sweetheart ,â Bucky deadpanned sarcastically. âCovered in sink crud and existential dread.â
âWhatâs âex-etn-sescialâŠ.â She carried on stumbling over the hard to say word.
Bucky laughed , shaking his head. âSomething Daddy gets when he thinks he can fix stuff in one hour. Gimme the wrench and Iâll explain it later.â
She passed the right one this time , smiling proudly when he gave her an approving nod.
âYou know,â she began , watching him tighten the bolt , âMommyâs outside with the flowers. Youâre missing it.â
âI know ,â he groaned , making a loud thunk sound come from where he was working. âShe escaped before the chaos began.â
Lady Bug tilted her head at him , chewing on her bottom lip. âWhen you were gone today at the store , I asked Mommy if you were a superhero or  a plumber.â
Bucky turned his head , raising an eyebrow at her. âWhatâd she say?â
âShe said you were the only man she trusted to fix her sink and her heart.â
Bucky blinked , momentarily stunned at such deep words coming from such a tiny girl. âShe said that?â
Lady Bug nodded , too young to understand how much that had just melted her dad and cracked his heart wide open. âAnd then she made the blush face. Like thisââ She pulled her cheeks in together and fluttered her lashes dramatically mocking her mom.
âOh my God ,â Bucky groaned , grinning like a lovestruck idiot. âOkay , Lady Bug , go get Daddy a towel before I start flooding the kitchen.â
âAye aye , Daddy!â She scurried off down the hall , pink socks skidding on the wooden hardwood floor.
Bucky exhaled and began to wiggle out from under the cabinet , but the second he sat uprightâcrackâhe slammed the top of his head directly into the underside of the sink.
âShitâ!â
He winced and pressed a palm to his head , eyes watering looking around making sure his daughter wasn't nearby to hear the curse he let slip. Through the pain , he noticed the kitchen faucet was finally cooperatingâno longer leaking like a waterfall. But now he needed a towel more than ever. His shirt was sopping wet , his head stung , and water was beginning to drip down into the baseboards from the leftover condensation.
Lady Bug hadnât come back yet.
He glanced toward the window above the sink and saw you out in the yard , kneeling in the garden bed , arms buried in soil as you coaxed life from the dirt and earth. You wore a loose fitting tank top and Buckyâs old sweatpants , your hair up in a messy twist , and the sun kissed your skin in a way that made his mouth go dry. Then he saw your daughter outside with you. Spinning around chasing a butterfly.Â
âTraitorâ he whispered to himself letting out a breathy laugh.
You glanced up from the flower bed wiping sweat from your forehead and smiled when you saw him through the kitchen window.
Bucky raised his hand and mimed : washing his hands , scrubbing at the air, then held up two fingers , mouthing, âTwo towels.â
You tilted your head at his gestures.
Then⊠waved.
He blinked. âNo, noââ He repeated the gestures: fake-scrubbing , then a two-finger peace sign. Two towels.
You giggled and waved again , this time holding up a peace sign of your own.
He shook his head , smirking despite himself , then mouthed slowly, âTWO TOWELS.â
You pressed a hand to your heart. Then pointed at him and mouthed back, âI love you too.â
He stared through the glass in disbelief. âNoâbabyââ he said aloud , laughing now. âWhat is your mom doing?â
âWhoâs doing what?â Lady Bug had returned from outside , holding two hand towels in triumph she grabbed from her way back inside. âI got light pink and yellow. The best colors.â
Bucky took the towels with a grateful sigh and pointed toward the window. âYour mom thinks Iâm doing some kind of weird love confession out here throwing up peace signs.â
Lady Bug climbed up on the little stool beside the counter with the help from her dad and and peered out. âAw sheâs doing the heart hands!â
Sure enough , you were making a heart shape with your fingers , your grin wide as a summer sky sending air kisses to your two loves inside.
Bucky laughed , wiping his arms and shirt down with the towels trying to get dry. âShe thinks I was doing a peace sign and mouthing âI love you.â I mean , sheâs not wrongâŠâ He dragged out his words.
Lady Bug turned and looked up at him with wide eyes. âWait , were you not telling Mommy you love her?â
âI mean , I always am , in general,â Bucky said , wringing out the towel, âbut this time I just really needed her to throw me some dry cloth.â
Lady Bug stared at him very seriously. âYou know what this means?â
âWhat?â
âYou gotta go kiss her after this. Otherwise sheâll think youâre ignoring her love heart handsâ
Bucky smirked. âHer, what now?â
âShe did a love heart with her hands.â She got serious hands on her little hips staring at her father.
Bucky gave a mock salute. âYes , maâam. Operation Love Mommy is acknowledged.â
By the time he dried off fully , put the tools and box away , and triple-checked that the sink no longer sounded like it was coughing up a lung , Lady Bug had migrated outside to join you againârunning barefoot through the grass and singing some made-up theme song.
Bucky stood in the doorway for a moment , arms crossed , just watching the two of you.
You looked up from your rows of lavender when you heard the screen door creak open with a squeal.
âWell hello there , handyman,â you teased, brushing your hands on your- his pants..
He wandered out , damp towel slung over his shoulder. âYouâre lucky youâre cute.â
âThat I am , very very lucky ,â you grinned , standing popping ut your hip with a tease.Â
He walked up and wrapped an arm around your wais t, pulling you in to him. âYou know I wasnât peace-signing a love message earlier , right?âÂ
âI figured that , eventually,â you smirked, âbut the way your face was all serious? I thought you were trying to tell me , like, âPeace , woman. Iâm dying under the sink but I love you.ââ
Bucky burst out laughing and nuzzled his face in your neck to high the toothy smile he had plastered on his face. Leaving a few kisses there before pulling back.
âDid you at least get the towels?â
âYes I did , your tiny sidekick saved the day.â
Lady Bug came skipping up just then at her mention , holding a slightly bent flower in each hand. âMommy! Daddy! I made a bouquet for you!â
You knelt down to her height , smiling. âItâs beautiful , bug.â
âMommy! Did you see I fixed the sink? It's all happy and not leaky anymore!â She squeaked giving a cheeky grin to her dad.
Bucky reached over , picked her up effortlessly , and cradled her upside down as she squealed in delight.
âAlright , bug,â he said , spinning her gently, âtell the truth. Who fixed the sink?â
âI supervised! Thatâs more important!â
You clapped slowly , mock-serious. âSheâs not wrong.â
Bucky set her down as she ran off again in the filed and he leaned in close , lips brushing your ear.
âYou really said that? About me fixing the sink and your heart?â
You blushed immediately. âThat little lady talks too much.â
âShe talks just enough,â he murmured , brushing dirt from your jaw.Â
You turned to him , voice soft now. âI mean it, you know. Youâve fixed and healed things in me I didnât know were broken or bruised.â
He held your gaze for a long moment , blue eyes tender. âSame here , honey.â
Lady Bug appeared between you both , holding up her new bouquet of manly grass this time.
âKiss Mommy!â she squealed looking up at you two like you hung the stars.Â
You laughed , and Bucky didnât hesitate.
He leaned in and kissed you sweet and slowâdirt-smudged , towel-draped , and barefoot on the lawn with your daughter cheering like she won the biggest prize at the fair.
When he finally , reluctantly pulled back , you smiled up at him holding up two fingers and whispered, âTwo kissesâ He laughed again immediately cupping your face , kissing you again.
-end
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synopsis - after a mission, you and Bucky were forced to stay in a cabin until Steve and the others arrived. In the middle of a small argument, you said something you regretted⊠or did you?
pairing - bucky barnes x avenger! reader
warnings - SMUT +18, enemies to ..?, small argument, one bed trope, dom!bucky, overstimulation, creampie, squirting, dirty talk, p in v, (y/n) mentioned once
notes - inspired by that one fic of duncan vizla i read here ^_^ divider by enchanthings-a
main masterlist | marvel masterlist
For how many months was the Avengers' primary mission to locate the small Hydra bases around the world? It's not exactly a new task for you. You and Bucky were assigned to this mission, which involved searching Romanian woods for a batch of super-soldier serum.
It painted the white, cold snow, and the bodies of the Hydra soldiers covered in blood adorned the area outside the small base.
âWe got âem, Cap,â you said as you touched your earpiece, breathing hard after you just fought the last Hydra men.Â
âGood. You two must stay put first while the others continue to locate bases in the area. There is a bunker in that location. You and Bucky can stop by there until everyone is done with their mission and then weâll pick you up.â Steve replied on the comms.Â
A frown replaced your smile. What do you mean stay on put? With Bucky?Â
It's not really the kind of person you get along with, Bucky Barnes. Heâs mysterious, cold, distantâ everything. You donât exactly have a good relationship with him. The both of you often argue with the smallest thingsâ from a box of cereal, when training, just every single interaction you had with him.Â
It felt more like divine retribution than an assignment when Steve revealed that you and Bucky would be working together on the mission. Like the universe had looked you dead in the eye and said, âYeah, suffer.â
Out of all the people they couldâve assigned, they gave him Bucky. The one person you swore youâd never work with.Â
What a wonderful day right!
"Aw, come on! We retrieved the serums already. Can we just go home and call it a day?â you groaned.
âYeah, Steve. Iâd rather go home. Or into a coma. Whichever gets me out of this faster,â Bucky muttered.
You didnât bother hiding your annoyance, eyes rolling before Bucky even finished his sentence. It was exhausting to be around him, as if seven years of your life were being chipped away by every second. But heâs right, youâd rather get out of this mess immediately.Â
The both of you heard Steve chuckled from the comms, âIâm sorry, lovebirds. You guys really gotta wait. Make this a perfect moment to stop fighting each other and offer peace.â
Lovebirds
Fuck that.
âWhatever. Just send us the coordinates.â
âSending now.â
~
It took almost an hour to find the bunker. Every step felt slow and heavy, and the entire trail was blanketed in thick snow that was at least a foot deep. The cold wind blew through the trees, and everything was quiet except for the sound of your boots crunching the snow.
When you finally saw it, the bunker looked small â way smaller than you expected. It was hidden at the edge of the clearing, almost buried under snow. The walls were old and rusty, and the roof looked like it might cave in if it snowed any harder.
âWhat a nice AirBnB huh,â you sarcastically commented as soon as you saw it.Â
Bucky didnât mutter a single word and went inside right away. You hurriedly followed him, not wanting to get locked outside. As soon as he opened the door, your mouth hung open.
One bed.
âYouâve got to be kidding me.â
You put your go-bag on the little table in front of the bed, exhausted and defeated, while Bucky locked the door firmly and looked for items the S.H.I.E.L.D. had left behind. You removed your black parka jacket and folded it beside your bag. On the other hand, Bucky found two guns covered in a plastic zip-lock that was placed under the bed.Â
âYou gonna shower?â you asked, looking up at him. âYou can go first. Iâm still arranging my stuffs.â
Bucky simply nodded, not having the strength to argue anymore. He grabbed his whole bag and brought it with him to the bathroom. You sighed, getting up and grabbed the guns. Ripping the plastic open, you inspected them carefully before putting the bullets in then placed both on the nightstand. One for you, one for Bucky.
The mattress was supringsly soft but still small for the both of you. Your head was clouded with thoughts as soon as you sat on the bed. The both of you fight. A lot. Practically every time the both of you talk. And yet⊠sometimes, you wish we could just sit down and have a real conversation. Just talk. But you know itâs not that easyâespecially not with someone like him. Heâs so quiet, so withdrawn, like heâs always trying to disappear into the background. You get it. They broke him and made him into something he never wanted to be, and you know what Hydra did to him. Everyone talks about the Winter Soldier as if he were just that. But you donât care about that. I want to know James. Bucky. The man. Not the myth, not the weapon. Just⊠him
Your thoughts were interrupted as soon as you heard the knob twisted from the bathroom. Bucky got out of the shower with some new clothes on. The sight was.. something for you to feel things.
The tight active dry shirt was hugging his biceps so much. He was also wearing a plain shirt and his hair.. oh god his hair. It was still a bit wet but god he looks good.
âYou can go next,â Bucky said while he wiped his hair with a white towel that was sitting on his shoulders.Â
You instantly grabbed your clothes and towel to cover up the blush that had appeared on your cheek. Closing the bag, you walked past him and went inside the bathroom.
It was small but itâll do. It was a miracle that it has a heaterâ definitely canât find that in a cabin like this. As you started rubbing soap all over your body, you canât help but thought of Bucky again. Are you actually having a crush on him?Â
Heâs smart, tall, strong.. and definitely handsome. He might be cold and harsh but there are some times that heâll ask you if you're okay after debfreifing and he never doubted your skillsâ which is a big thing for you.Â
After you finished taking a shower, you found Bucky reading his own copy of The Hobbit. His face looked calm, collected, and.. hot?
"What is up with you and that book?" you asked.
"Huh?"
You rolled your eyes. "That's the 1937 book, right? The one that you've been bragging and literal is old like you."
"I'm not that old," he sighed, putting the book on top of the night stand.
"You're like 120 yeaâ"
"107."
"Same thing! You even got that old man's attitude."
"Oh really now?"
âYouâre so old I bet it wonât even stand up anymore,â you bit.Â
Oh shit.
You definitely did not dodge a damn missile on that one.
Bucky paused for a bit. He looked at your eyes and god you were terrified. You thought that maybe you slipped through the line with that joke. You were mentally punching yourself. You were waiting for a slap on your face or even a gun but nothing. Why the fuck did you even say that?
It wasnât nothing.
But his lips on yours.
Buckyâs hands suddenly grabbed your face, firm and desperate, and before you could breatheâhe kissed you. Hard. Your heart slammed against your chest, wild and thunderous, like it was trying to answer him.
"You really need to shut that mouth of yours, huh?" he murmured.
Your mouth parted when his tongue brushed your lips, asking for an entranceâ wait asking? He didn't need to. He did it right away. Bucky's rough palms guided towards your neck, titling it to taste you more.
"Mmmâ" you moaned.
He didn't hesitate to slide his fingers down to your stomach then to your shorts, toying with the garter as he continued playing his lips with your mouth. He swiftly removed your black shorts, together with your pantiesâ soaking wetâ, and tossed them somewhere the room.
You whimpered when you felt his fingers brushed your pussy, making a slick of wetness sound. You arched your back and clenched your fists around the bed linens.
"Jesusâ you're soaking," he teased.
Bucky's vibranium arm left your face and started to unzip his pants swiftly. His cock sprung free. Hard. And definitely big. Pre-cum leaking out from his swollen tip.
Aligning himself, he began to slide it inâ swiftly. Bucky smirked at the sight.
"Oh my god. Fuckâ my dick fits perfectly inside you, huh?"
"Bucky! Wa-itâ!" you choked.
Bucky was stretching your hole so much that it hurt. You didn't expect for him to be bigâ THAT big. You can feel his veins kissing your walls, his tip meeting your pelvis aggressively. Your eyes rolled so much you felt like your eyes were facing backwards now.
"You take me so well, doll. You're squeezing me like your pussy knows me, so don't even pretend you don't like this."
As he sank farther, your legs locked with his. You whimpered, groaned, and repeatedly chanted his name as if it were a damned prayer. You never imagined for this to feel good and to be doing this with.. Bucky. Someone who gives you a cold glare. Someone who doesn't even talk to you. Someone you never thought you'd fall for.
Bucky looked at you. Your eyes.
Not with lust.
But a hint of love.
It was wrong, and he knew it. It was wrong for someone like him to fall to a woman like you. He's a murderer. A criminal. A monster. But he shook his head mentally, ignore all the negative thoughts for now.
"F-feels good, Bucky.. aahâ"
Bucky's arms were beside you, holding himself as he thrusted in and out. The silver dog tags on his neck moved crazily. His biceps were flexed at his pace. He leaned forward to you until his face was just half a inch apart from you. You can feel his hot breath whenever he groans. You can see how his eyebrows furrowed everytime you clench on him.
You broke the distance; kissing him up. It was sloppy. Wet. Lusful. An action that speaks to continue and pace up. Both of your lips were glossy. You heard him groan again as he went inside deeper. Bucky was hitting the spots that your fingers cannot even reachâ and damn he is good at it.
He looked at you with that dumb smirk of his and broke the kiss, leaving a trail of saliva between your lips and his.
"Didn't know that a damn insult is all that you need for me to fuck you like this, hm?"
"Mmpâ! F-fuck you, Barnes."
"I am, doll."
Bucky straightened his posture. His metal arm grabbed your left leg and then placed it on his shoulder, allowing himself to push himself even further. You let out a loud moan when you felt him fucking the spongy spot. His head rolled back and eyes were closed from the pleasure.
"Please.. Bucky," you beg as a knot forms in your stomach.
"Please what, doll?"
"'m so closeâ I think I'm gonna cum.. Oh god!" you writhed.
He let out a chuckle. His pace going faster, harder. More desperate. More power. More possessive.
"Yeah? My girl's gonna come? Go on, doll."
After a few more thrusts, the knot on your lower stomach finally ripped off. You clenched on him as you came hard. You were a moaning mess.
But Bucky didn't pulled out just yet. You felt a cold touch on your clit; his finger circling figure of eights with his thumb. You whined and whined from the continuous pleasure until you felt like it was too much. Too hard to handle. Too good.
"Noâ wait! Too much, Bucky! I can't!" you whimpered.
"Shh.. I know, doll. But I can't just stop especially when you're still squeezing me."
You curled up your toes, arching your back, and gripped the pillows tightly as the pleasure became too much. You were overstimulated and overwhelmed. The sound of your bodies slamming into each other echoed all over the small cabin. His finger flicking your clit so fast and well until you felt another wave of orgasm incoming.
"Aah!â Too much.. too much! Mmpâ"
You finally squirted. Your juices were all over his cock as he continued pumping inside you. A wet puddle started to soak on the white bedsheets.
"Jesus Christ, dollâ So good for me. Look at you so vulnerable, so addicted."
Your eyes closed again from the overstimulation. Your legs were trembling. Bucky's pace slowly slowed down and turned sloppy. His moans and grunts were getting louder and louder.
"You were talking shit about me earlier and now I'm cumming inside you," he teased.
With one final deep thrust, he spurted all of his cum inside youâ rope after rope after rope, filling you. His head rested on your shoulder for a bit, waiting every drop to store inside your fucked pussy.
Your legs collapsed. Your chest violently heaved up and down. Bucky then pulled out slowly and when he did, his cum dripped down on your ached hole. Letting out a choked moan, you clench on nothing; suffering from the phantom cock.
"All you need is pissing me off so I can fuck you? Very smart idea, doll."
~
The next morning came. The both of you finished packing. After a few more minutes, the sound of the Quinjet rang into both of your ears. The door opened, revealing Steve and Natasha.
Bucky walked first, holding his black backpack that was hanging on his left shoulder. He greeted Steve and looked at you. You grabbed your go-bag and wobbled to Natasha.
"Woah, (y/n). Are you injured?" the red hair woman asked as she offered her hand to you. "What happened? We'll bring you to the Medbay as soon as we arâ"
"Oh trust me, she's fine. She just did cardio last night," Bucky replied with a smirk forming on his lips before going to the Quinjet.
Steve's eyebrows furrowed. "How can she do cardio in the middle of the niâ OH."
A/N: You know that moment when you realize "being in the shower with Bucky would solve all my problems"? Yeah... that's what prompted this. I think I've had this idea in my head for around a year and then like two days ago my brain literally started writing it all and I finally got around to it. This was proofread by my dog, if there are any mistakes... ignore them I guess. Enjoy xx
Pairing:Â Tunderbolts Bucky Barnes x Thunderbolts f!reader
Word count:Â 2.7k
CW:Â MNI / 18+ Mentions of canon-related danger and being close to death (no one dies), and angsty feelings over that, anxious Bucky, mentions of blood and injuries, established situationship (i guess?), nudity, unprotected shower sex, oral (f receiving), p in v, reader and Bucky comforting each other, aftercare, Bucky being the sweetest.
Also available to read on AO3
The whole team had looked at you with worry, but you didnât look back at them. You entered to your assigned room, rushing to the bathroom before anyone could see you breaking, or see how scared you still were. You heard Bucky far away, asking if you were okay from the entrance of your room. âYes, I am,â was all you replied, and shut the door of the bathroom behind you.
You welcomed the warm water when it hit against your skin, soothing your tense muscles as it traveled down your body. The mission had been rough, intense; you couldnât remember one that had ended with your body screaming at you to stop as this one had. But being ambushed does that, you suppose, it pushes you over the limit. And maybe a cramped motel shower was not the best place to wind down and recover, but it was what you had for now, and at least you had warm water.
Bucky and you had taken most of the attack, being caught in the middle and covering each otherâs backs. He was as battered as you were; super serum healing and all, you could see his hurt in the way he held himself after, in how his hand held onto his ribs and the bright red wound on his forearm. But, yet again, he had the serum running through his veins to help him recover faster. He wouldnât mind if you took the shower first.
The water turned brown under your feet as you scrubbed your aching body, feeling some relief as your fingers massaged the sore spots until there was no more grime on your skin, standing under the warm water and finally, taking a deep breath, begging your body to calm down the shakiness it still carried. You were alive, you had made it out, and Bucky had too, even when it started to seem that you wouldnât.Â
You had been so caught up in your own thoughts that you didnât hear Bucky knocking - twice, he had done it, and not once had you replied. You only heard him as the door creaked open. âYou all right?â He asked, his voice careful and quiet.
âIâm fine,â Your voice almost said otherwise, as it cracked against the words. âIâll be out in a minute.â You had been in the shower for a while, you realized. And he deserved hot water too. You wondered, then, if anyone had seen him walk inside after you, if anyone else knew you were sharing a room, or if you even cared if they found out.
John would be an ass about it, and Yelena would tease you endlessly. Still, you didnât care, not right now.
Buckyâs tall frame still lingered on the other side of the shower screen, his silhouette fidgety, moving inside the small bathroom. You didnât mind, as long as you could stay in the warm water, he could do whatever he needed out there.
And you didnât mind, either, when the door slid open to reveal him standing there. His shirt had already been discarded, as well as his shoes, letting you look at him properly, at his already-healing bruises and hits, painting his middle and his arms with dried blood and swollen scars.
His skin was ashen as he looked at your beaten body, his features remained neutral as you met his eyes again. He was still shaken, too, but not for himself, you realized, when a sharp breath came out of his nose and his eyes softened for barely a second. Bucky stared at you with something more than just lust, with something that looked like worry behind his eyes as if he wanted to see, with his own eyes, that you were as fine as you claimed to be; as if he couldnât wait until you got out of the shower to confirm; as if he were still scared too, still on edge after the mission.
His body being so close to yours wasnât new, but the way he was looking at you was. Buckyâs eyes roamed across your body and parked on your ribcage, where a set of fresh bruises coloured your skin purple and red. His eyes were not intrusive, they never were. You stood under the stream of water, letting it crash against your elbows and chest while keeping your eyes clear so you could see him.
âBuck,â You whispered his name, just realizing then how quickly you couldâve lost each other back then.
There were no labels to what you two were, it had started way too casually, when the tension of training under each other had finally snapped. You wished it was just that, tension, but with every encounter, with every moment his body had found yours for the past few months, it was clear to you there was so much more. But you knew Bucky wasnât ready - or you assumed so, at least - so you would remain like that. Casual encounters on lonely nights, shared rooms during missions, hidden kisses before heading into danger, and before saying goodnight, too. But no formalities, no labels, just sex - just closeness.
Which is why the look in his eyes sent your heart into a frantic beating, the longing in them that wanted to make sure you were okay, almost making your head spin.
Without a word, he removed the rest of his clothes and stepped into the shower. Soft fingertips made their way to the bruises on your body, caressing them softly as if that would make them go away. âDoes it hurt?â his gravely voice asked, his eyes not leaving that spot.
You shook your head with a soft ânoâ, which seemed to be enough for him. Bucky closed the distance, standing impossibly closer to you, and hovered his lips against yours. He did it slowly, at first, his mouth slightly open and chest heaving, almost waiting for any confirmation, until he couldnât hold himself any longer. Buckyâs lips crashed against yours hungry, impatiently, ravenous for your taste and the feeling of your skin against his. There, you were there with him. His hands remained soft, thumbs holding your sides as if you would slip away with the soap if he let you go.
âNever do that again,â He said against your skin, with feather-like kisses against every scar, every scrape, and every bruise, old and new.
âDonât do what?â Your fingers pushed his hair back, as the water had pushed it over his face, and you rested your hands behind his neck. Buckyâs half smile was barely visible when he turned to kiss your palm, in his lifted eyebrow a knowing look that said you know what you did. âOh⊠you mean saving your life?â
âI mean, putting yourself in front of danger,â
âBucky, I swear Iâm alright-â
âYou got hurt.â He cut you off, giving you a long kiss afterwards. âYou got hurt because of me.â His voice shook as his eyes went back to the bruises on your skin, the ones he felt so guilty for, even though he had nothing to do with them. You froze under his stare, his eyes pining you to the cold tiles behind you, not knowing how to calm his anxious mind down.
âBucky,â You whispered his name again, hoping that would make him look up at you. And he did, for a brief second, looking up at you from under his eyelashes, before he dived to your neck and kissed you there.
His kisses were soft as they traveled from your neck, to your collarbone, to your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his lips and sucking on it lightly. You couldnât help but arch towards him with a gasp of pleasure, letting him kiss the places that needed to be healed, the softness of his touch a contrast against the aching spots. He needed to feel you, to taste you, to make sure his mind was not playing any games with him and that you had made it out with him.
Bucky kept going down, down, down⊠kissing every inch he could until he reached your hips. He trailed kisses down your belly as he placed your leg on his shoulder, his kisses mixing with the warm water and heating you more than it. His eyes never left yours as his mouth found your center, tasting you and sending waves of growing pleasure all over your body with his expert tongue. You held onto his hair as you rode against his mouth, soft moans escaping your lips and his name like a prayer on your lips.
âCome on,â Bucky murmured against your clit. âI want to taste you.â He never stopped. Not for a second. Stars blurred your vision when a metal finger pushed inside you and curled against the spot he expertly found every time.Â
âBucky,â You moaned, your head thrown back as a whimper left the back of your throat. Â
Another finger went inside you, his own moans from your arousal against his lips making your legs shake. It was enough to bring you over the edge, his mouth and fingers guiding you through it.
You only knew Bucky stood up when his lips found yours again, whimpers still leaving your lips as his tongue tangled with yours. Bucky still held onto your lifted leg as he pushed you further back to the tiles, his metal hand grasping your waist softly as he looked into your eyes. The water splashed against his broad back as it towered over you.
Never, in the months in which you had become closer in whatever agreement you both had, had you ever looked at each other like that, with such a softness that made your knees weak in a completely different way in which his mouth had just done.
He wrapped your leg around his waist, grinding his hips against yours and letting you feel how hard he was. You both moaned at the touch, your hands flying to his shoulders to keep you on your feet. Your eyes never left each other, letting the fear of almost losing this, almost losing him, sink in and wash away at the same time.Â
Bucky smirked at the feeling of your hand traveling down his chest and the hard lines of his body until it reached in between the two of you, aligning him to your entrance as you stroked him, his groan a delicious sound against your lips.
You sank onto him at the same time he thrusted into you, the sound of your combined pleasure echoing in the shower. His metal fingers held your waist in place carefully as he pushed against you; his touch, usually hard and hungry, was softer than ever, as if not wanting to give your skin any more bruises to deal with.
âI got you,â Bucky said against your jaw, his breathing getting more laboured. âI got you, and Iâm never gonna let you go.â He found your lips as he said that, at the same time his fingers found your clit and began rubbing it. He claimed the little whimpers of pleasure you were letting out, almost bouncing on him as his hips began moving faster. âI got you, you hear that?â
You knew where his words were coming from, the need to make himself sure that he had you as much as you had him. As much as you could hear him, you couldnât remember your own name, as it was only his that clouded your every thought, let alone any other words. âYes, Buck,â You finally replied to his pleading. âIâm yours.â
âFuck, say that again, doll,â His breath sent goosebumps around your neck before he kissed the skin softly.Â
âIâm yours,â His head was buried in your neck when you spoke it into the foggy bathroom, the warmth of the pooling pleasure and from his body pressed against yours almost too much for you to be able to form coherent words.
Bucky let out a noise, something between a fuck and a grunt. His thrust became sloppy, but he never once stopped rubbing your swollen clit. You whimpered his name, meeting him halfway as you chased both of your climaxes.
âCum, baby. Cum with me.â He grunted, his lips crashing on you again. âWanna feel you all over me.â
When he lifted your leg higher over his waist, reaching a spot further inside, you were sure you were going to die in his arms. You didnât know what you were saying, what noises were coming out of your mouth, you only knew you were urging him to never stop, a new kind of death clouding your sight as you finally let it explode.
He reached it as soon as you did, sounds of pleasure mixing and reverberating in the cramped bathroom. His body all but melted under your fingertips, still clinging to each other as you came back from whatever paradise Bucky had just made you see. Because he always did, always made sure you felt like you never had before.
âYou are always so good, always take me so good.â He kissed your shoulder, then your neck, and your jaw, before looking for your eyes and staying there for a few seconds, looking at each other and taking you both in âYou good?â He confirmed, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
Your head was still spinning, but your smile and nod were enough for him to smile back with a soft laugh, and kiss your lips with so much love. Because thatâs what it was, love, even if neither of you were brave enough to risk it all to admit it.
He let you go then, only to grab the cheap-smelling soap and rub it all over your body, even if you were already clean. Even with the lukewarm water, you stood there and let yourself be washed up again. It was your turn after, you took the soap from his hands and rubbed it all over his body, focusing on the swollen places, on the ones that were still burning red. You kissed every spot you could reach: the bruises on his back, the cuts on his arms, the soft skin in between shoulder and metal. All yours to have and to hold, to kiss and mend.
Bucky was quick to wrap you in a towel once he turned off the water, his hands moving up and down your arms to dry you off and to keep you warm. Ever so gently, he rubbed lotion on your ribs and back with a soft massage. You leaned against his touch, your back to his chest as his hands moved up and down your body.Â
He guided you to the bedroom, found the softest Henley for you to wear, and made you sit on the bed, putting every pillow and cushion against the headboard so you could be comfortable. You didnât need all that, since the moment he sat next to you, you collapsed into his shoulder.Â
Bucky held you there, with an arm around your waist to keep you close. âIâm glad you are okay,â He whispered against your neck, placing a kiss there.
Your hand reached back to his jaw, holding him close to you. When you looked back at him, you saw that same look in his eyes from before, the one that caught you by surprise in the shower, for there were words that had never been said between you, words that you could see in his eyes as clearly as the blue in them.Â
âIâm alright, I promise.â You reassured him, since a speck of worry kept looming over his face as he looked you up and down again.
âI just- I donÂŽt like seeing you hurt.â
âWell then, you better be more careful on the next mission.â You smiled at him, sleepily now, but hoping he could see in your gaze what you found in his. âBecause I donât like seeing you hurt, either.â
His jaw clenched, but he smiled nonetheless when your eyes found each other. He knew better than to get into the I-care-about-you-more argument, he had learned the hard way. So he simply did what he was best at: Bucky pulled you into his arms and tucked you both into the covers, holding you close to his chest, as it was the place he knew he could keep you safe.Â
synopsis : You hate Bob Reynolds. Or at least, thatâs what you keep telling yourself â ever since he pulled away and got closer to Yelena. Now you spend most of your time ranting about him to BuckyâŠ
Meanwhile, Bob spends most of his time avoiding you. (Because heâs pretty sure you like Bucky. And heâs very sure heâs in love with you.)
pairing : robert 'bob' reynolds x reader / sentry x reader
content : pure fluff (again lol don't hate me on this), slight enemiestolovers!au , friendstolovers!au , jealous!bobreynolds
warning/s : kinda cheesy idk
word count : 4.6k
You hate Bob Reynolds.
You hate the way he walks into a room and wonât look at you. You hate the way his eyes flicker toward you when he thinks youâre not watching. You hate how he always chooses the furthest seat from yours now, even though (once) you were the person he chose first.
And worst of all?
You hate how much you still want him to come sit next to you.
The common room smells like popcorn and vaguely burnt pizza. Avaâs cracked the windows again, letting in the cool night air from the New York sky outside. Dim overhead bulbs cast the room in warm yellow light that barely competes with the flickering horror movie on screen.
Yelena is curled on a beanbag chair with her legs tucked under her like a smug cat, hoodie two sizes too big. Johnâs hogging the recliner, a beer in one hand and his dumb Stars-and-Stripes socks visible from where his boots sit discarded nearby. Avaâs lounging in the corner with a bowl of gummy worms and a knowing smirk.
You walk in behind Bucky, both of you still talking about a mission briefing that had somehow turned into a discussion about raccoons with knives.
âDo not pretend a raccoon could take you down,â you mutter as Bucky snorts.
âIâm just saying, itâs more dangerous than you think,â Bucky deadpans. âEspecially with a butter knife.â
âYouâre ridiculous.â
He shrugs. âIâm not the one who got chased through a compound last week by a genetically engineered goose.â
âThat goose had rage in its soul,â you hiss, before realizing the entire room is listening. Yelena snorts into her sleeve. Ava just shakes her head.
You clear your throat, cheeks warm. Your eyes instinctively scan the roomâand stop.
There. Couch. Right side.
Bob.
Heâs sitting low, one leg crossed over the other knee, navy-blue sweater sleeves bunched up his forearms. His posture is slouched, but his eyes are sharp, focused on the screen, until you catch the briefest glance your way.
Your stomach tightens.
He looks back at the screen before you can even smile.
You hesitate, then move toward the couch. The big popcorn bowl is balanced between him and Bucky. You think about sitting next to Bob, think about all the nights you used to sit shoulder to shoulder, knees brushing, fingers grazing accidentally over the same handful of popcorn.
Maybe you can fix this. Maybe heâll say something. Maybe this silence heâs been giving you for weeks will finally end.
You hover by the bowl. âHey,â you say, careful and light. âCan I grab some?â
Bob doesnât look at you. His hand tenses slightly on the bowlâs rim. He shifts it toward you in silence.
Your fingers brush his.
He pulls back like heâs touched a hot stove.
You feel it like a slap.
You grab the popcorn, mutter a stiff, âThanks,â and move to sit next to Bucky instead.
Bucky shifts slightly to give you room. You slump beside him, chewing angrily.
âWell that was painful,â Bucky mutters under his breath.
You donât respond.
âHe flinched,â Bucky continues, almost in awe. âLike your fingers were poison.â
You keep your eyes on the screen. âMaybe they are.â
âStrike four,â he whispers.
You glance at him. âYouâve been keeping count?â
âOf every tragic interaction, yes.â
You throw a kernel of popcorn at him. He catches it mid-air.
You lean in slightly, voice low. âDo you think heâs mad at me?â
âI think heâs a dumbass.â
You smile, but itâs hollow.
âI justâdonât get it. We used to talk. Like⊠a lot. He used to laugh at my dumb jokes. Now he acts like I stole his dog.â
âMaybe you did.â
You blink. âWhat?â
âMaybe you stole his metaphorical dog.â
You stare at him. âThatâs the worst theory Iâve ever heard.â
âItâs still better than yours,â Bucky mutters.
From across the couch, you feel Bob shift. You glanceâheâs still watching the screen, but his fingers have stopped moving. The popcorn bowl rests untouched now, perfectly still in his lap.
The movie flickers into a tense silence.
Then John, voice flat, says, âCan the lovebirds quiet down?â
Your entire spine stiffens.
âExcuse me?â you hiss.
âShh,â John says, not even turning.
You stare ahead, cheeks burning. Bucky looks halfway between smug and offended.
âLovebirds,â he whispers, amused.
âDonât evenââ
âI mean, if the shoe fitsâŠâ
You elbow him sharply. âI hate you.â
âYou donât,â he says, still smiling.
You risk another glance toward Bob.
His jaw is tight. His eyes are still on the screen. But thereâs a twitch in his cheek. The kind he gets when somethingâs bothering him.
He doesnât look at you.
You look away first.
The meeting room is too cold.
The A/Câs on full blast, humming above the fluorescent lights. You swear Val keeps it that way just to remind you sheâs in charge of everythingâincluding your blood circulation.
Youâre running late.
You shove the door open with a muttered apology, the metal creaking slightly, and step insideâboots still muddy from training. Your hairâs barely dry from your post-mission shower, damp strands sticking to your neck. You tug at the collar of your jacket, feeling both underdressed and overstimulated.
Everyoneâs already seated.
Yelenaâs halfway through a protein bar and somehow still managing to lounge in a government-grade steel chair like itâs a beanbag. Avaâs scrolling her tablet, boots on the table despite multiple prior threats from Val. Walkerâs twirling a pen and looking like heâs about to make a comment no one asked for.
Then your eyes land on him.
Bob.
Second from the right. Notebook closed in front of him. Shoulders hunched slightly like heâs trying to make himself smaller, or maybe disappear altogether.
Two empty chairs beside him.
You hesitate.
The little voice in your headâthe one thatâs gotten crueler latelyâsays, Donât bother. But you ignore it.
You step around the table, slow but deliberate.
Your pulse kicks up as you approach. You wonderâstupidly, hopefullyâif maybe this is the moment. Maybe today, heâll look up. Maybe heâll say âHey,â like he used to, voice low and warm. Maybe youâll sit beside him and feel something like before.
You stop beside the chair next to him.
Bob looks up.
Your breath catches.
And thenâ
He blinks. His mouth twitches. Not a smile. Not even close.
He closes his notebook.
And he stands.
Your eyes widen. He murmurs something to Yelenaâtoo low for you to hearâbut she raises one eyebrow and gives him a look that says Seriously? Bob says nothing else. He walks around the back of the table, silent and swift, and drops into a chair across the room.
Your throat tightens.
You sit down heavily in the now-empty chair next to Bucky.
You just shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. âWhat the hell was that?â
Bucky leans in. âHe looked like you were holding a knife.â
âMaybe I should start holding one.â
Val walks in, clapping her hands once. âAlright, Thunderbolts. Everyone awake? Good. Letâs make this quick. Iâve got meetings stacked higher than Walkerâs ego.â
Walker scoffs. âHilarious.â
âQuiet, star-spangled disaster,â Val says dryly.
You try to focus. Val drones on about the last missionâerrors, improvements, recon notes. Words blur into static.
Bob doesnât look at you. Not once.
You glance at himâheâs leaning back, hands clasped in his lap, eyes fixed on the slide deck like it owes him something. Heâs not scribbling notes like he usually does. Heâs not twirling his pen. Heâs not moving.
You grit your teeth and turn to Bucky.
âHeâs ignoring me again.â
Bucky side-eyes you. âWeâre mid-briefing.â
âIâm going to strangle him with his own hoodie.â
âThatâs dramatic. Effective, though.â
Val clicks to the next slide.
You whisper, âWhy is he like this? He used to talk to me.â
âUsed to eat lunch with you too,â Bucky murmurs. âUsed to laugh.â
âI know that.â
âAnd now heâs pretending you donât exist.â
âExactly!â
âYou think maybe⊠thatâs the opposite of whatâs happening?â
You blink. âWhat?â
Bucky just smirks.
Thenâ
Val slaps a hand on the table. âHey. Lovebirds. Try keeping the domestic bickering to a whisper?â
Your soul leaves your body.
You blink. âIâm sorryâwhat?â
Walker snorts. Ava doesnât even look up from her tablet.
Val waves a hand. âWhatever. Just pay attention. Iâm not repeating myself for your unresolved sexual tension.â
The room falls quiet.
Bucky leans into his hand, elbow on the table. âI think weâve just been outed.â
You bury your face in your hands. âThis is a nightmare.â
You chance a glance at Bob.
He hasnât moved.
Heâs staring at the table. Not at you. But his knuckles are white where they rest on his knee.
Youâre too stunned to say anything.
The rest of the debrief is a blur.
The training room smells like rubber mats and frustration.
Sweat beads at the back of your neck as you pace toward the punching dummies, your left ankle throbbing with every step. You rolled it badâstupidlyâduring a dodging drill with Ava and Walker. Youâd laughed it off at the time, brushing dirt off your shoulder like it was nothing.
But now that the adrenalineâs fading, it hurts.
The sunâs just beginning to dip behind the compoundâs reinforced windows, casting the entire gym in a low, orange haze. Yelena is by the far wall, throwing knives at a wooden dummyâs face like sheâs flirting with murder. Avaâs perched on a bench with her headphones in, scrolling through footage on her tablet. Walkerâs long gone, probably off to inflate his ego somewhere else.
And thereâs Bob. Across the room.
Heâs standing by the free weights, curling a bar like it weighs nothing. His hairâs damp at the edges, sticking slightly to his temples. Heâs in his navy long-sleeve againâhis favorite, the one thatâs worn thin at the elbows. His eyes flick toward you as you limp slightly past.
Your breath catches.
Itâs the first time heâs looked at you today.
You feel it. That familiar flutter in your chest that you keep trying to kill.
You open your mouthâto say anythingâbut hesitate. He looks like he might say something, too. Like heâs going to take a step forward. His fingers twitch slightly against the bar.
And then you hear it:
âYou alright?â
You turn.
Buckyâs walking over from the hallway, towel slung around his shoulders, brow furrowed as he catches your limp.
âOh. Yeah. Just twisted it earlier. Itâs not bad.â You wave a hand like that makes it true.
âLet me see,â he says, already crouching down beside the bench. âSit.â
You hesitate. âI was gonnaââ You glance back toward Bob.
But heâs still standing there. Still watching. Frozen in place.
Whatever he was going to sayâif he was going to say itâdies.
He takes one slow step back.
You sigh, quietly, and sit down beside Bucky instead.
He pulls your boot off gently, inspecting the swollen ankle.
You wince. âIâve had worse.â
âDoesnât mean you should ignore it.â Bucky digs in a nearby locker for an ice pack. âYou planning on training through this like a moron, or letting me tape it?â
You roll your eyes, but smile. âFine. Doctor Barnes.â
âIâll add that to the list of titles I never asked for.â
Across the room, Bob hasnât moved.
His jawâs tight. His hands open and close once, then again. He watches the two of you quietly, unreadable.
He takes a breath, like heâs about to come over anyway.
But Yelena appears behind him without warning. âYouâre glaring again,â she mutters.
Bob startles, just barely. âIâm not.â
âYou are.â
âI wasnâtââ He glances over at you and Bucky. Buckyâs crouched now, wrapping your ankle in gauze, your hand on his shoulder to keep balance. You laugh at something he says.
Bob turns away.
Yelena raises an eyebrow. âYou gonna keep lying or just explode already?â
âShut up,â Bob mutters.
âSure,â she says, biting into an energy bar. âJust let me know when youâre done pining like a 17-year-old Victorian widow.â
He shoots her a look, but sheâs already walking away.
He turns back toward you, just in time to see you toss Bucky an appreciative smile and say, âThanks, Buck.â
And then youâre goneâhobbling off toward the lockers with Bucky trailing beside you.
Bob stares at the door long after youâve disappeared.
Bobâs hands have been sitting still for too long.
One of them rests on the disassembled sidearm laid out in front of him, the other curled tight against his jaw as he leans on the table. His brow is furrowed. His brain hasnât registered a single thing in the last fifteen minutes. The room is quiet, except for the distant hum of the overhead lights and the occasional thud of Yelena dropping gear somewhere behind him.
He stares at the gun like itâll reassemble his thoughts for him.
âYouâre sulking again,â comes her voice, sharp and dry as vodka.
He doesnât look up. âIâm not.â
âYouâre brooding in the dark, surrounded by dangerous objects,â she replies, stepping closer and leaning against the metal counter with a crunch of her granola bar. âThatâs called sulking, Bob.â
âIâm fine.â
âYouâre lying.â
He exhales, long and slow. âIâm just⊠thinking.â
âAbout her?â Yelena chews. âOr are we pretending you donât do that every three hours?â
He doesnât answer. Just picks up a screwdriver, flips it once in his palm, then puts it back down like itâs too heavy to hold.
She softens a little. âWhat happened this time?â
He doesnât know where to start. He could say, I saw her ankle give out and didnât move fast enough. Or maybe, I saw her smile at Bucky again and it felt like a kick to the ribs. But none of that explains how badly he wants to rewind everything. Go back to when you used to wait for him after missions. When youâd lean on his shoulder while teasing Walker or smirking at Yelena like you were in on some inside joke Bob would never understand.
He remembers the sound of your laugh. That full-bodied, uncaring laugh that only came out when you felt safe. You used to laugh like that around him.
âI think she hates me,â he says eventually, voice low.
âShe doesnât,â Yelena says without hesitation.
âShe used to talk to me,â he mutters, running a hand through his hair. âEvery day. About random stuffâTV shows, your neighborâs dog, the vending machine being rigged. And I was stupid enough to think it would last.â
Yelena quirks an eyebrow. âWhat changed?â
âI did.â
And he did. Somewhere in the space between trusting you and falling for you, he got weird. He started pulling back, dodging eye contact, brushing off conversations before they could start. He didnât know how to handle itâhow to want you without scaring you away.
So instead, he scared himself into silence.
Youâd walked into the common room that night with Bucky at your side, your laugh trailing behind you like perfume. You were trying to get popcornâjust a normal thingâbut then your hand brushed his and his whole body tensed like heâd touched fire. He pulled back before he even thought about it.
Your smile faded so fast it made his stomach turn.
He shouldâve said something. Sorry. I didnât mean toâ
But instead, he just froze, watching you walk away, bowl in hand, settling on the couch next to Bucky like that was where you belonged now.
He couldnât focus on the movie. He couldnât even hear it over the pounding in his ears. Every time you leaned into Buckyâs side, something bitter tightened in his throat. You didnât even look his way after that. Why would you?
He hadnât just pulled away. Heâd disappeared.
Yelena watches him quietly now, like she knows where his mind is drifting. âDid something else happen?â
He nods. âDebrief, a few days ago.â
She waits.
âI walked in and saw her scanning the room,â he says. âShe looked like she was gonna sit next to me. She almost did. But I⊠I moved.â
âYou ran.â
He winces. âWalked. Quickly. To the other side of the table.â
âCoward.â
âI know.â He leans back, eyes flicking to the ceiling. âI couldnât do it. I was going to say hi. Ask about her shoulderâshe took a hit on the last missionâbut I panicked.â
Yelena hums in that way she does when sheâs judging him quietly.
âShe sat next to Bucky instead. Again,â Bob adds, bitterness creeping into his voice. âThey were whispering to each other, laughing during Valâs rundown, and then Val saysââ His voice shifts, mocking: ââCan the lovebirds pay attention?ââ
Yelena snorts.
âShe didnât deny it,â Bob says quickly, like he needs her to know this part. âDidnât laugh, didnât say, weâre not a thing. Just turned red and glared at Val, like it was a thing and she was embarrassed about it.â
Yelena doesnât answer right away.
Bob lets his head drop forward into his hands. âI know it sounds stupid. It is stupid. But I keep seeing them together, and itâs not just the proximity. Itâs the way she looks at him. Talks to him.â
âYou mean the way she used to talk to you?"
He goes still.
Yelena softens, voice less teasing. âBob⊠maybe sheâs just trying to fill the space you left.â
He doesnât know what to say to that.
Then yesterday happened.
He saw you limp into the gym and his entire nervous system lit up. You were trying to play it cool, but he knew that lookâyou were in pain and trying not to show it.
He took one step forward, almost called your name.
But Bucky beat him to it.
Hey, you alright?
Bob watched, rooted in place, as you let Bucky guide you to the bench. Watched you let him take off your boot. Wrap your ankle. You laughed at something he said again, that same sound Bob used to hear on accidentâwhen you were scrolling your phone on the couch beside him, or teasing him over his âweird cult-leaderâ handwriting.
Bobâs hands had clenched. His chest felt hollow.
And still, he hadnât moved.
âEvery time I try to fix it, I mess it up more,â he says now, his voice ragged with frustration. âAnd every time I donât fix it, I lose her a little more.â
Yelena tosses her granola wrapper in the bin. âSo what, youâre just going to keep watching her from across the room like some tragic Regency novel?â
Bob glares weakly. âI just⊠I donât know what she wants anymore.â
âWell,â Yelena stands, dusting off her pants. âMaybe she doesnât either. Youâve given her nothing to work with.â
He swallows.
Sheâs right.
He remembers the way you used to look at himâeyes full of challenge, of trust. You donât look at him like that anymore.
Now, when you glance his way, thereâs hurt in your eyes. And confusion. And maybeâjust maybeâa little hope you havenât managed to kill off completely.
Bob wants to believe it isnât too late.
But he also knows heâs running out of chances to find out.
The med bay is quiet except for the gentle whir of the portable stim unit on your ankle. You should be focusing on your recovery, on resting, but your mindâs pacing in circles. Restless. Itâs been days since the last mission. Days since you sprained your ankle and Bob almost helped you.
Almost.
The sound of that one step he took toward you is burned into your skull. You heard it. Saw the flicker of concern in his expression. The way he looked like he might finally say something. But he didnât. Again.
Instead, Bucky helped you. Like he always does.
And maybe youâre just exhaustedâmentally, emotionally, physicallyâbut tonight, as the pain pulses dully through your foot and frustration simmers in your chest, you decide youâve had enough.
Youâre done letting Bob hide behind silence.
You leave the med bay the moment your foot can bear weight and stalk the halls with too much purpose for someone supposed to be recovering. You know exactly where heâll be. The observation deck. He always retreats there after missions, like heâs hoping the stars will answer something the rest of you canât.
Sure enough, you spot him through the glass, silhouetted in the cool blue glow of the night sky beyond. Hood up. Shoulders hunched. Like the worldâs sitting on his back.
He doesnât hear you enter. Or maybe he does and chooses not to turn.
You stop a few feet behind him.
âWhy do you keep avoiding me?â
His shoulders stiffen.
No greeting. No pleasantries. You donât have the patience for any of it.
He doesnât turn.
You take another step closer. âSeriously, Bob. What the hell did I do to make you act like Iâm some kind of ghost?â
Nothing.
You force a breath. Your voice cracks. âYou used to be my best friend.â
That finally gets him. Slowly, he turns, the hood dropping back just enough to let you see the guilt carved into his features. He looks tired. Paler than usual. And yet somehow still impossible to read.
âIâm not avoiding you,â he says, too quiet to be convincing.
You scoff. âBullshit. You canât even look me in the eye anymore. I try to talk to you, you bolt. I reach for the popcorn and you practically teleport away. You leave the room when I sit down. You change training shifts to avoid me.â
âI didnât mean toââ
âYou didnât mean to, or you didnât want to be around me?â
He winces. His mouth opens like he wants to explain. But nothing comes out.
You hate how much it hurts.
âDo you hate me now?â you ask, voice barely above a whisper.
He jolts. âWhat?â
âJust tell me,â you snap, covering your pain with anger. âIf I did something wrongâif I messed this up somehowâjust say it.â
âThen why?â Youâre breathing harder now. âWhy did you just⊠drop me? You let me think I was crazy for feeling the distance when you were the one building it!â
âI had to,â he mutters.
You step closer. âWhy?â
He shakes his head. âItâs complicated.â
âNo, itâs not. You either care or you donât.â
âI do care,â he blurts, suddenly louder, voice cracking like thunder off the glass.
Silence falls between you. Heavy. Fragile.
You blink. âThen why do you treat me like I donât exist?â
Bob runs both hands through his hair, pacing away from you, then back, like heâs coming apart.
âBecause itâs easier than wanting something I canât have,â he finally breathes.
You stare.
He exhales like heâs been holding that in for months. âYou and Bucky⊠I see the way you look at him. I hear the way you talk to him. I thought maybe if I backed off, I could deal with it. But every time I see you with him, itâs like my ribs are caving in.â
Youâre stunned.
âBobââ
âAnd then Val calls you âlovebirds,â and you donât deny it. You blushed. I thoughtâŠâ He trails off, swallowing hard. âI thought I missed my chance. That Iâd already messed it up. And if I couldnât be what you wanted, the least I could do was get out of your way.â
Your voice comes out gentler. âYou thought I was with Bucky?â
âArenât you?â
You stare at him. âNo. Of course not.â
He blinks. âBut youâre always with him. Laughing. Whispering. You lean on him.â
âBecause he listens. Because you wouldnât.â
âI was trying to protect myself.â
âAnd I was trying to understand why the person I care about most started treating me like a stranger!â
That lands like a punch. Bobâs shoulders sag. He looks like heâs about to fold in on himself.
You step forward. Hesitate. Then place a hand on his chestâjust over his heart.
âYou idiot,â you whisper. âYou really thought I wanted Bucky?â
Bob doesnât answer. His eyes are wide, vulnerable. Your touch stills him completely.
âI wanted you.â You say it quietly. Gently. Like itâs the simplest truth in the world.
He exhales shakily. His hands twitch at his sides, then liftâhesitant, slowâas if heâs terrified touching you might break the moment.
But when he finally presses his palm over yours, the tension breaks.
Neither of you says a word for a long time.
Then, finally, he leans forward, forehead resting against yours, breath shallow.
âIâm sorry,â he murmurs.
You close your eyes.
âI missed you,â you whisper.
His breath hitches. âI never stopped.â
You werenât planning on sitting next to him. Not really. You told yourself youâd play it cool. Casual. Normal. You were going to walk in, nod politely, and take your usual spot next to Bucky like the last three weeks.
But tonight⊠you hesitate at the door.
Bobâs already there. Hood down, for once. Jacket draped over the back of the couch. Heâs wearing that old faded band tee you once teased him aboutâthe one you said made him look like a roadie, not a superhero. And heâs looking around the room like heâs searching for something.
For someone.
Your pulse kicks up.
Yelenaâs on the far couch, legs tucked under her, already spoon-deep into a pint of ice cream. Johnâs half asleep in the armchair with a beer balanced precariously on his thigh. Ava is floating just above the beanbag pile, watching the screen like sheâs trying to decipher code. Buckyâs leaning against the back wall with crossed arms, waiting to see where you sit before he picks a seat.
And Bob⊠Bob catches your eye and doesnât look away.
Not for a second.
Itâs nothing like before.
Thereâs no flinching. No retreat. Just that soft, unsure gravity youâd missed so badly.
Your feet move before you think about it. You take the empty spot beside him like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
It feels terrifying.
And then Bob shifts, ever so slightly, to give you more space. Or maybe to meet you halfway. His thigh brushes yours. He doesnât pull back.
You glance sideways. His fingers twitch against the blanket on his lap.
Yelena lets out an exaggerated gasp.
âOh my God.â
You freeze.
John jerks upright. âWhat?â
Bucky just huffs a quiet chuckle and takes the nearest beanbag. âTook them long enough.â
You blink. âWhat are youââ
âOh, please,â Yelena drawls. âThis has been a six-act drama and weâre finally at the resolution. Do not deny me this.â
Bob lets out a groan and sinks lower into the couch.
Val, from somewhere in the hallway, calls out without even looking in: âIf anyone makes out during the opening credits, Iâm kicking you off the mission roster.â
You bury your face in your hands.
Bob coughs into a laugh beside you.
Bucky leans over and mutters, âSo, whenâs the wedding?â
You elbow him, face burning.
Bobâs hand brushes yoursâlight, hesitantâand then doesnât move. Fingers barely touching. Like a promise heâs still too shy to make out loud.
The movie starts. Everyone settles.
You stay exactly where you are, shoulder to shoulder with the man you thought you lost. The man who is still here.
And even with the teasing, the knowing glances, and the smug looks from across the roomâyouâre smiling.
Finally.
A/N : another blurb before i do a request and continue finishing psyche 3 (i just have no creative juice to squeeze anymore)
A/N 2 : i love bob so much i want to write him in every trope there is LMAOO
A/N 3 : bucky barnes one shot, anyone? non-smut because i physically cannot bring myself to write smut i get very uncomfortable while writing and they end up being SO BAD
The scene where Bob is beating the shit out of the dark version of himself and Yelena risks it all to run across the room to hold him, the others following suit shortly after, is easily one of the most powerful scenes in a marvel movie literally ever like itâs so important
my favorite thing about bucky barnes is that sebastian stan chose to walk in a way that shows how heavy buckyâs arm is. like you can see that his metal arm is physically weighing his left side down because of how heavy it is
Iâm Here For The Angst @buckys-other-punk - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
