Run-through: King Steve returns to his kingdom; victorious and wounded. The recent battle was a massacre but the King fought bravely. He’s been gone for a while, and when he returns home; he sees some minor changes in his kingdom. For instance, he now has a new manservant named Bucky. And the King quickly finds himself completely spellbound by the latter.
Themes: smut, fluff, Steve x Bucky.
A/N: I’m doing it, I’m finally writing a Steve x Bucky fic. Also, this is kinda long because I got carried away…sorry.
The entire kingdom was in a chaotic state. Everybody was running around, preparing and setting up tents to tend to the wounded soldiers who were expected to return before the evening.
The castle was in a rush as they prepared for celebration to welcome their victorious King back home. Lords and servants alike got busy in preparing for the feast tonight; a ceremony which was held each time something good and prosperous occurred in the kingdom.
“Hi hun so could you please do a bucky reader where you borrow his sweater and then he walks past your room and over sees you masturbating and you are wearing his sweater and he gets so turned on??? Xxx”
Themes: masturbating, smut, dirty talk
A/N: I hope I did well, Anon. ILY!
“Hey Buck! Say, can I borrow a sweater?” you asked, walking into the kitchen.
Bucky looked up from his enormous cup of coffee and simply nodded, flashing you a smile.
“You steal all my clothes. Why?” he asked, not really caring why you did so; he just wanted to talk to you.
A/n written on my phone. Do not copy, rewrite, translate or repost my work.
****
Bucky believes there are only a few things and people in his life worth protecting.
And you are at the top of his list.
His life changed when he met you. So used to violence and death that accompanied his work, he was unprepared for the light, love and softness you would bring in his world.
Before you he was convinced he would spend the rest of his life with women who only cared about his wealth, status or reputation. An endless array of meaningless dalliances that were only going for passing the time until the next encounter.
Bucky is an intelligent man, and he recognizes treasure unlike your ex boyfriend.
Things were going well, you were happy and in turn he was happy.
Until your ex tried to come back in your life.
Bucky suspected something had happened in your past relationship, you were too hesitant with him at first. He swore you sometimes flinched if someone was too loud or moved too quickly towards you.
He kept his observations private, sharing them with his most trusted men. Ordering them to be mindful-careful- around you. The unspoken threats he made more terrifying than his spoken ones. He changed his own brash behavior to make you feel more at ease around him.
He made sure you knew your worth, telling you every day how much he loved you. Showing you through his actions. Showering you in affection, attention and gifts.
And you blossomed. No longer shy, nervous or afraid.
He had never been more proud.
No other accomplishment compared to when you fully trusted him and gave him your heart.
prompt: ( requested ) what good is having all that money if he can't spend it on the woman he loves?
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 4.3k+
warnings: author foams at the mouth for Mafia AUs, overwhelming fluff, cursing, not edited.
"That's the one. That's one we should get!"
"You've said that about the past three dresses, Buck!" You groaned, smoothing your hands over the skirt. "We need to narrow this down, okay? The wedding's in a month!"
"Why did we even agree to go?"
You glared, "'Cause we love my brother and we're supporting him."
"But she's just so - "
"Jen. Her name's Jen."
Bucky nodded, leaning back on the cushioned chair, "Well, Jen's just wrong for him. Literally the definition of toxic."
"Does it count if they're toxic together? To each other?" You sighed, standing on the pedestal and turning to look in the three mirrors beside the dressing room.
"Of course it does," he stood, buttoning his suit jacket out of habit. He approached you, head cocking as he looked your body up and down to get the full view of the gown you tried on. "You're really okay letting him marry her? Turn this way a bit, baby, lemme see the front."
You scoffed, but took his offered hand and twisted on the small platform towards him, "You were there at Christmas, he doesn't listen to reason. So, if Daniel's convinced Jen's for him, as his sister, my only job is be supportive."
"They literally abuse each other," he pointed out.
"Well, he's not changing his mind. Okay? It's been three years, he won't budge, whenever someone brings up them breaking up, he goes into hiding - so, I don't know what else I can do," your hands slapped your thighs when you shrugged, "except just be there for him. Now, focus, please, help me narrow a dress down."
He shook his head as you turned to face the mirrors again, "Actually, you know what? I don't think anything in this store is for us."
The attendant perked up and scurried over, rushing, "Oh, well, we have a much larger selection in the back, Mr. Barnes - "
"That won't be necessary, Barbra, thank you, though," he nodded. "Doll," his hand planted on your waist, head over your shoulder as you still looked yourself over in the mirrors, "go get changed, I know where we need to go."
"Bucky, no, there's plenty of options here," you argued, twisting on the wee little pedestal to face him again. "We don't need to drop a stack on a dress - "
"You let me worry about the price tag," he smirked, leaning in to peck your cheek. "Just go change, pretty girl, c'mon. Step-to!"
You offered Barbra, the attendant, an apologetic smile as you shuffled back into the changing room; quickly stripping from the dress. When you exited in your street clothes, Bucky was tipping the aged woman for her effort in gathering your options, but the moment he saw you, his hand was extending to hold yours tightly.
"What was wrong with that store?" You asked when you stepped onto the noisy and busy street to approach the sleek, tinted car Bucky drove for day-to-day errands.
"We're not shopping at David's fucking Bridal."
"You literally drove us here," you laughed.
"Yeah, and then I had a much better idea," he smirked at you, unlocking the car and opening your passenger door. "C'mon, princess, just gotta trust me."
"Last time you said that - "
"That wasn't my fault," he groaned, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment. When you opened your mouth to retort, he rushed, "Aht, nope, don't say shit. C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere special so get that pretty ass in the car."
He grinned when you laughed and did as bid, feet safely inside when he closed the door after you were settled. Bucky easily jogged around the back of his car, New York busy this time of year as traffic flew past on the street and forced Buck slow. He dropped into the driver's seat, sniffling slightly.
"Reminds me," Bucky smirked as he pulled onto the street, "how would you feel about us going to Aspen this winter?"
You sighed, "Why?"
"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"
"Well, yeah! It's so magical."
"Okay, so, we can go over New Years?"
You sighed, "You know, we don't have to go anywhere..."
"Sweetheart," he cleared his throat, "I actually have some business in Aspen, this will just help determine when I schedule the meetings for."
"Oh," you nodded slowly.
He sighed, "I know my job isn't orthodox, but business is business, right, sugar?”
"No, yeah, yeah, I get it. It sounds kinda nice, maybe we can go skiing."
"You know how to ski?"
"No, but I'm sure someone in Aspen could help teach me."
Bucky grinned. The drive was full of easy conversation, neither you nor Bucky dwelling on his business dealings, always feeling as if it was taboo given his station in the Mafia. So when he pulled up in front of a designer store, you gawked. "Now, if we can't find something here - "
"Um, absolutely not," you laughed. "Bucky, I can't even afford to walk into a place like that!"
"Good thing I'm paying," he smirked. He assisted you out of the car, tossing his keys to one of his security guards who had been following in a separate, tinted vehicle. When you both entered the dimly lit store, you were blown away by the gorgeous minimalist design; warm lighting, open floor space, and racks of different clothing options.
"Ah, Mr. Barnes! Hello, hello, hello!" A new attendant greeted with more enthusiasm than you would've greeted any of your clients, approaching you two. She shook your boyfriend's hand vigorously, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"
Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, "Looking for a dress to wear to a wedding."
She offered you a forced smile, telling your boyfriend swiftly with her teeth on full display, "You came to the right spot!"
"See?" Bucky smirked at you. "All right, Valeria, what's first?"
Valeria waved you both onward to a private changing room, offering complimentary sparkling waters, coffees, teas - even offering to go retrieve anything you two would want from the Starbucks down the block. Valeria took your measurements and dress size, making idle chit-chat with Bucky and making it obvious he was a regular in the store, then scurrying off to collect an armful of options.
"This is - wow," you nodded in impression, petting the material of the display dresses hung along the wall.
"Like it?"
"It's growing on me," you eased with a small shrug, hearing Bucky chuckle and for his phone to chime. You perused the place as he became glued to the little device, sat in front of the dressing rooms.
Valeria returned with another attendant carrying coffees. "Right this way, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria directed you into a changing room, missing the giddy look you sent Bucky over your shoulder at being called his wife. "All right, so," she sighed, hanging up the dresses she selected, "I think these are modest enough for a wedding, but still glamorous to turn a few heads."
You hummed, "They're kinda short, don't know if that's the energy I want to be giving off at my brother's wedding."
"They'll fit differently once on but we can always accommodate," she assured, pulling one from the hanger. "Here we go," she assisted you, zipping you in and looking you over. "Oh, it's just darling on you! Look at that, not a single hair outta place, right?"
You giggled lightly, "It's certainly pretty."
"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"
You nodded, following her out to reveal Bucky sitting on a plush loveseat, sipping his coffee. His eyes widened when he saw you, nodding, "Oh, yeah. This is what I'm talking about."
"Hush, we're only buying one."
His eyes rolled, "I'll buy the whole damn store if I want."
"You don't own it already? Hm," you teased, perking your brows.
"Keep sayin' shit, I'll cut a check right now - "
"Bucky," you tisked, moving to the runway mirrors. "It's a little tight, isn't it?"
"It's snug," Valeria agreed. "Is there a color scheme for the wedding?"
"Um," you paused, "I'm not sure - I just know it's in winter, like, in a month."
"Maybe a pretty powder blue?" She looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Or how about a pale green? Like an olive tone?"
"She looks gorgeous in anything," Bucky smirked from behind you, taking another pull of his coffee.
"What about that brown number?" You asked, ignoring the way his compliments made you feel like the only girl he's ever seen in the world.
"You have a very good eye, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria nodded. She asked her coworker to go find your size, taking you back into the dressing room. You narrowed down the options without changing again, not wanting anything black or dark since it was a wedding and not a funeral. Though, you knew Bucky would disagree.
You showed your boyfriend a pretty little green dress, but he shook his head. "I thought the black was nice," he told you.
"I'm not wearing black to a wedding," you laughed lightly. "It screams bad luck to me, don't you think?"
"Think it's more of a statement, sayin' the entire event is a sham and they shouldn't be doing this," Bucky snickered, the other attendant, Laura, returning with a pretty brown dress. "That satin?" He asked, rubbing the material when it was presented to you both.
"It's very fashionable now," Laura nodded, "and it's not too dark."
"Since when is it a rule to not wear dark colors to a wedding? I miss the memo?" Buck leaned back to his seat.
All three women offered him a small look, you chuckling under your breath before Valeria was leading you back into the changing room. "If I may, Mrs?" She spoke softly, "I've known Mr. Barnes for a number of years but he's never brought anyone into the store. Then, one day, he tells me he needs a new suit because the 'girl of his dreams' had agreed to a date, and every time since then?" She smiled softly at you, "He's sang your praises. I'm very honored you're trusting me with helping you today."
"Oh," you blinked in shock, giggling nervously, "well, thank you very much, Valeria, now I know why his suits are always top of the line." She waved you off, making you add, "And for the record, I'm not Mrs. Barnes, guess that'd be his mother, wouldn't it?"
"Oh," her eyes widened, gasping softly, "oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I just - he talks so highly about you - "
"No, it's okay, it's okay," you rushed, patting her arm. "I actually kind of like it..."
She hummed, zipping you into another dress, "You know, he's the reason my girl and I are together."
"Really? How'd that happen?"
Valeria chuckled, "He's very bold, your man. We were getting coffee one day, discussing his wardrobe for a business trip he had in Hong Kong, when my lady walked in. I went all silly and stupid, and Mr. Barnes just," she shook her head with a fond smile, "brazenly asked her out for me, in front of the whole shop."
"Oh, Jesus, yeah - sounds like him."
"Well, luckily, it worked, else I don't think he would've come back for my assistance. I was so embarrassed, you have no idea, but my lady - Charlie - thought it was charming and cute. Mr. Barnes hasn't let me live it down since. Says he demands an invite to the wedding." She met your eyes through the mirror, offering, "And I'd be really happy to give him a plus one, hmm?"
"You're so sweet," you whispered, turning to survey the dress. You spent the better part of three hours there, trying on dress after dress, nitpicking almost everything as you just weren't sure what to wear. Bucky wasn't much help, he just approved everything.
So, it was up to Valeria and Laura to help you; bringing out iPads and design books, trying to piece something together that best fit your comfort and the vibe of the wedding. You didn't want to look like a walking money bag since your family wasn't by any means wealthy, thinking it would be a slap to their faces since your boyfriend could spend his money without ever thinking about it. You didn't want to give your family any reason to talk behind your back.
"I like the brown satin," Laura offered softly, looking you over in the mirror. "But the blue is just wow, it really looks like it was made for you, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but I think the green compliments her eyes more," Valeria cocked her head in thought. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"
"Up," you answered, trying to mimic the look by pulling your locks off your shoulders, "with thin jewelry, I think."
"Diamonds?"
"Pearls, if I can find a dress that looks nice with it," you smiled, seeing Bucky's reflection in the mirror watching you with a soft smile on his face; head titled in thought before his phone chimed again and warranted his attention. "Maybe we could try the pink dress?" You looked to the two women for an opinion.
"No," Valeria shook her head, "it washes you out. And pink in winter? Oh, sweetie, I'd lose my job if I let you leave here with that. Guess that means you'll have to come back in the spring, right?"
You grinned in response as Laura chimed in, "The green's actually really nice, but the brown looks much better with your body type." Then she turned to Bucky, prompting, "Mr. Barnes? Final decision - which dress?"
Bucky paused, musing, "Lemme see them all again, get one last taste. It's between the green and brown numbers?"
"Or the blue," Valeria nodded. "C'mon, sweetie," she offered her hand to help you off the wee runway you were perched on in front of the magnificent mirrors.
"You look sensational in them all, doll, how the hell am I supposed to choose just one?" Bucky teased, his canines on display from the broad grin that stretched his lips.
"You'll find a way," you answered.
"Awh, telling me Mr. Big-Tough-Manly-Business-Man who makes impossible decisions everyday can't choose a simple piece of fashion?" Valeria tacked on.
"You guys can't pick either!" He laughed, "And you do a helluva lot more shopping than I do!"
Laura, Valeria, and you paused to exchange looks, you pointing at Bucky and relenting in a drawl, "Touché."
When you were escorted back into the dressing room, Laura waiting outside the door for your privacy with Valeria, Bucky sat back on the plush loveseat and extended his one arm over the back of the seating. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as if in disbelief - but he was. Bucky was in disbelief.
How did a rugged Mob boss find himself here? Watching his girl like a private fashion show?
His whole life, all he knew was turmoil, pain, drama, and fear. He knew he would inherit his father's well-built organization after he passed and knew what this life would entail; having no preconceived notions about a quiet life. He knew he would have to be tougher than tough, adaptable, intelligent, and confident in his role as the head of the 3-6 Brooklyn Mob. Knowing the idea of a family was farfetched, knowing he'd never know the simple pleasures in life, that he would constantly be on the move - in-able to form real, sentimental, emotional connections. He knew, in this life, he'd remain alone for everyone's best interest and safety, indulging in a series of flings and one-off relationships that couldn't haunt him.
Yet they did. These encounters reminded Bucky how alone, how stranded, how isolated, how different he was. Instead of satisfying an unquenchable thirst, these fleeting partners became heavy anchors to Bucky's reality and reminded him that there was no such thing as love - nor was there any room or logic.
And then... He met you.
Bucky's lips silently spread in a grin as he remembered meeting you at a bakery; purchasing the last slice of coconut cream pie to your absolute chagrin. He thought you were gorgeous, something ethereal and unobtainable; authentic, raw, and unfiltered - things his one night stands could never measure up to. So, he offered you the slice of pie if it meant giving him your number as currency.
After that, it was impossible for Bucky to consider ever being alone again because you were the sun; center of the universe that drew everyone into your orbit. He was smitten, content, excited to date you, turned on by the fact you had no idea who he was - a rare occurrence in the city. You were pure as fresh snow; sweet, kind, affectionate, attentive, and borderline overly empathetic.
Bucky knew he was in love with you after only a few weeks when he had shown up at your apartment, dripping in blood. You didn't panic like he feared you would, just checked up and down the hallway before yanking him into your home. You cleaned him up, tending to wounds, offering a safe space for him to relax in; making mindless conversation to help distract him from the pain he endured.
And now? Now, Bucky was sat in Dior, giving his opinion on your wedding guest dress; wondering how he allowed himself to get to this point of being domestic. Bucky wasn't a man to give his opinion on dresses, what color nail polish you should use, to send fresh bouquets of flowers every other week. Yet here he was, sipping too-expensive coffee, deciding between brown, green, and blue dresses that he never would've batted an eye at.
However, that was just the domino effect you caused in his life. You were sweeter than apple pie, becoming Bucky's one tether to reality that saved him from losing himself in this dark, criminal mindset he adopted. You didn't know it, but you had transformed Bucky from a brooding asshole into a boyfriend; someone you were proud to claim and never hid from - never shied away from. He admired the way you came to terms with his job, knowing it was a hard pill to swallow and yet noting the way you just accepted him as he was.
Bucky realized in that moment that he adored this new aspect of life after thinking it was impossible to obtain. He adored sitting here, offering opinions on dresses, his security left outside instead of hovering over him like a brutal reminder he was seedy. He loved having you to come home to, he loved being part of your mundane world - a person who went to weddings, who drank Starbucks, who asked her boyfriend his opinion about how she looked in dresses. Who thought bouquets of flowers were romantic, who baked him homemade cakes for his birthday, who worked overtime in order to afford his Christmas or birthday presents, who walked to the takeout place instead of paying for delivery.
All that you are, Bucky adored deeply; falling in love with you each and every single day. All he wanted to do was protect you, share his life with you, even pick out outfits for weddings you would attend. He knew if any of the men in his organization knew the extent of his affection, they'd surely weaponize it against him... Or at the very least, tease him relentlessly. Yet he never cared, knowing you wanted to be loved out loud instead of hidden away in a storage closet; but did care if it meant his enemies could use you to get to him. It was a risk, an occupation hazard for loved ones to become targets, but that only made Bucky so much more protective of you.
Laura glanced at Bucky and saw the fond smile soften to let his teeth trap his bottom lip, smiling at the Mob boss looking soft, content, smitten being there. She knew most boyfriends would never put this much effort into helping their girlfriends in the fashion department, thinking he must've been truly in love to look so at-ease. Plus his enthusiasm through the entire ordeal assured her that Bucky was genuinely enjoying himself.
Once again, you slipped into the blue dress and showed Bucky. He hummed and snapped a photo, asking you to turn this way and that. Then you tried the green dress, him taking another photo, and finally, you changed into the brown satin dress, facing Bucky for his final verdict.
Bucky hummed in contemplation, swiping through the photos. "You know what?" He asked, looking at you with a grin. "You look delectable in everything, I can't decide - so, let's just get them all."
"Bucky, no - "
"We'll take all three, Valeria, please," Bucky interrupted you.
You waited until the attendants left you alone with a knowing look shot in your direction to ring up the desired purchases, hip cocking and hands to your hips. With an underlying exasperation, you questioned, "What the hell, Buck?"
He grinned and stood, again, buttoning his suit jacket, "C'mon, princess, this is fun, right? Being spoiled?." His arms wrapped around your waist, looking down at you as if you hung the very sun that sucked him into your orbit. "What's the point of all my money if I can't spend it on you? Huh?"
"You can save it for a rainy day?"
He shrugged, "Not necessary."
"Maybe pay to send some underprivileged kids to go to college?"
"Well, there's a thought," your boyfriend mused, "but I already do that through the Stark Foundation. I sponsor a few scholarships."
"Okay, well, buying all three still doesn't help me decide what to wear," you chuckled, you mimicked his action and wrapped your arms tightly around the base of his ribs. Due to his height, your head had to tip backwards to meet his eyes with a small smile.
You could look at this gorgeous man all day, everyday if God ever permitted such an act. Why wasn't dating a paid activity? You'd be the top earner with the way you were absolutely enthralled with all Bucky Barnes was.
And what an honor it was to earn his mutual adoration.
"We'll figure it out at home. Gotta get you moving in the material to make an honest judgement," he offered softly. "But you look gorgeous in all of them, baby, seriously. Like, drop dead gorgeous that makes every girl brim with jealousy. Shit, doll, you're gonna run the risk of outshining the bride."
You sighed, "Look, Buck, I appreciate what you're doing, but three designer dresses? Where the hell am I ever gonna wear them? What kinda event calls for overpriced fashion statements?"
Buck eased with a soft expression, "Guess I'll just have to take you out so you can put them all to good use, huh?"
"That's not a solution!"
"Is to me," he let a hand drift to roughly palm the meat of your ass cheek over the brown satin; another symptom of him being whipped, his comfort over public displays of affection. "Seriously, doll, how the hell did I get so lucky?"
"Hmm?"
"Just look at you, my girl," he chuckled lightly, "radiant in anything you put on. It's almost unfair, makes me wonder what I did so right to have someone like you I can call my own. I can't wait to show you off in those dresses, just look so Goddamn tantalizing. I mean, damn, baby, I'm gonna have to fight off men with my gun and the jealous women with a stick."
"You do realize we're already dating, you don't have to lay it on so thick."
"And you do realize being with you makes me the luckiest bastard in the city, right? Least I can do is spoil you, I've already got everything else I've ever wanted."
Your heart swelled at his words, sighing gently as your chin rested on his chest to keep your head tilted. Softly, you admitted, "I don't think you're the lucky one, pretty sure the honor's mine. I couldn't ask for anything more in a man - in a partner. I'm so fucking in love with you, Bucky, it honestly doesn't make sense."
He nodded, asking, "Know what else doesn't make sense?"
"What's that?"
"You refusing those dresses, I mean, c'mon!" He laughed, you groaning and releasing your hold; making his tighten to prevent you from escaping. "Those dresses look phenomenal on you, you really gonna reject my gift? C'mon, you know the rules, doll, if you adore her, you Dior her." You were ready to retort, but Bucky smiled, "For the record, I think you should wear the blue dress to the wedding."
"Blue it is," you smiled, lifting onto your toes and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to meet his lips in a scratchy kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," you whispered, feeling his lips spread against yours before he brought you back in for a much-more passionate kiss. "Hm!" You hummed, pulling away to scold, "But no more, all right? You spend too much money on me - I mean, who the hell needs three designer dresses?"
"You do," he whispered, "you deserve all of this, sugar, and I'll do what I can t'spoil you the way you should be. Might as well get used to it, I got no plans on stopping."
Your eyes rolled in good faith, excusing yourself, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Lemme get changed and we can - "
"Nah," he shook his head, petting the skin of your back exposed from the brown satin dress with his fingertips, "know what? Stay in the dress, I wanna take you out and show you off."
Your lips found his in a breath-sucking kiss, trying to convey your appreciation and giddiness over never having been spoiled like this in your entire life - feeling grateful, refreshed, and privileged for a man like Bucky in your life. Whatever greater force there was in this world, you thanked repeatedly for choosing you to love this man and for this man to love you. There was no telling what you did to deserve him, but blessed be those heavenly powers.
warnings: 18+ only. smuuuuuut (mainly m receiving).
words: 2k.
notes: i think i’ve used this gif before but i’m running out of gifs to use lol i’m gonna have to start making my own headers again soon. anyway, this is just a little smutty fic based off a small prompt list i saw recently. (222: “come here.”) i also wrote a very soft drabble based on the same dialogue that may or may not be posted here eventually. okay, anyway, enjoy! thank you in advance for reading and as always, feedback and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated! 🩵
“Come here.”
His words, though they sound like a soft command, are more of a gentle plea as he watches you from where he lies in bed.
A small smile forms on your lips as he speaks. You take a moment to finish rubbing in your moisturizer, your routine done for the night as your eyes move to meet his in the mirror.
You smile bigger and turn around to slowly make your way across the room to him. You can feel his anticipation to get his hands on you grow with your every step. You let your hips sway as you move closer, loving the way his eyes follow your body, his lids falling heavy as he pushes himself to sit up.
You’re wearing his favorite set, the lavender satin against your soft skin.. You were just begging to be touched. In fact, you’d been waiting for him in nothing more than this for hours. But he got home so late, covered in sweat and dirt all over his clothes, you sent him to the shower with just a chaste kiss as his face fell at your dismissal - his hands lingering on you as you slipped away from him to start taking your makeup off and get ready for bed.
He’s been watching you since he got out of the shower, climbing into bed in just his boxers as he waited for you as patiently as he could.
You want to see how much patience Bucky has left.
You watch his tongue dart out over his lip as his fingers twitch along his thighs, bringing your attention to his growing need.
Passing by the bedroom door, you stop to flick the lights out. All three switches. One by one, taking your time.
His impatient whine at your detour has you biting your lip to keep your smile at bay, though he can still spot that amused glint in your eyes, even through the darkened room.
“Sweetheart, please,” he groans, “I haven’t seen you all day, come here.” He coaxes you over, spreading his legs and reaching his arms out for you, a pout forming on his pretty lips.
He was still lit up by the bedside lights, the lights that were guiding you to him.
“Poor baby,” you coo in faux pity, finally standing before him. You let your hand drag up his thigh as you walk closer. You put one knee on the bed as you lean in to place a soft kiss on his pillowy lips.
Bucky tries to deepen it as his arms wrap around you and pull you closer.
You smile against his lips as you crawl fully onto the bed, straddling him as his hands smooth up and down your back now. He stares up at you as you part from him ever so slightly, his blue eyes shining. He looks at you like you’d hung the stars.
“I missed you,” he breaths.
“I can tell.”
You can’t help the smirk that effortlessly forms on your lips as you run your hands over his bare chest. You push your hips back and sit on his clothed erection. A hiss escaping him as he grips your soft waist, his eyes falling shut at the feeling of you on top of him.
“Missed me quite a bit, didn’t you,” your voice teasing.
“Yes,” he answers with a deep moan as you slowly roll your hips over his.
“And now I’m here,” you begin, leaning closer to brush your lips over his, “you’re quite happy, aren’t you.”
“Yes,” he moans again against your lips. They are so, so close to his, he can hardly think straight.
“And if I wasn’t here?” you question, pulling away from him as he chases your touch before you press on his chest, urging him down. Your strength is no match for Bucky’s. You both know he could easily have you on your back in a flash, but he falls to your touch, his pink lips part on an exhale as he watches you atop him, mesmerized.
A shudder runs through him as you let your hand run from his shoulder, down his chest, along his stomach until you get to the band of his underwear, snapping it lightly.
“What would you be doing if I wasn’t here?”
It wasn’t a real question, you both knew that. Bucky opens his mouth to try and formulate a sentence through his lust filled haze but you stop him.
“Don’t tell me. Show me,” you whisper, your dulcet voice laced with desire.
Bucky is stunned as you lift yourself off of him. He watches you settle on your knees beside him before you start pulling his underwear down for him.
“I know you want to,” you rasp, your heavy gaze never leaving his beautiful face as you free his straining cock and rid him of his boxers. You sit back up and kiss his stubbled cheek before whispering in his ear, “Come one, baby. Touch yourself for me.”
He lets out a soft groan as you guide his hand to his cock, wrapping it around himself before you guide it up and down his shaft. You watch his face as his eyes flutter shut at the motion.
You take your hand off of him and he looks at you as you nod, urging him on.
You watch intently as Bucky moves his hand along himself, pumping his shaft slowly but firmly.
You crawl across the bed to your nightstand and grab the nearly empty bottle of lube from your drawer before returning to his side.
You shake the bottle and squeeze the contents into your hand, only a pathetic spurt being released. You tsk before tossing the bottle to the wayside.
“Aaaah,” Bucky breathes as you rub the lube on your palm over his tip while he continues pumping his dick in his hand. You lean over and lift your eyes to meet his as you hollow your cheeks to collect your saliva in your mouth before you spit down on his cock. His thighs tense as your spit eases his strokes. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans as he works himself over a little faster.
You're tempted to stop him now and just wrap your mouth around his cock, but you won’t. You enjoy this too much, his cheeks growing pink and his puffy breaths as he jerks himself off. It’s a sight to behold, truly.
Instead you lay your head in his lap, let your hand rest on his lower abs, enjoying the way he tenses every now and again. Your fingers idly play along his happy trail before tracing the vein that leads to his cock, stopping as you near the base of him as to not interfere with his touching.
Your name can be heard falling from his lips in whimpered pleads before they’re overpowered by his deep groans and growls.
Bucky’s idle hand crawls along your chest and you let him grope your breasts as you watch him still. Your nipples are hard beneath the satin material of your bra and you revel in the feeling of Bucky’s hand on you. You slip your hand under yourself and unclasp the bra, pulling the garment off for him as he moans and runs his thumb over your nipple, earning a moan from you in turn before you decide to grab his hand and sit up. You turn your head and as you see the beads of precum leaking from his tip, you can’t help but lean down and lick them off as Bucky keens.
You move up his body and meet his lips, kissing him hotly. You bring your hand up to his face, caressing his stubbled cheek before working your fingers into his mouth. He obliges you, humming around your digits.You pull them from him before you settle back down into your spot, head on his lap as you lay perpendicular to his body. A breath leaves you as you relax into the mattress, content to watch Bucky get himself off while your hand slips into your panties, your fingers still wet with his spit playing in your own slick before you slide them inside you with a small moan. Your eyes are glued to Bucky as you watch his fist tighten around his dick - his eyes on you as you play with yourself. You can tell he’s close as his neck strains and he bears his teeth. You move further into his lap and stop your play, instead focusing completely on Bucky. Your face in his crotch, you let your tongue slide out and along his balls, a heavy groan falling past his lips as you lick him, his hand moving faster over his cock. You gently suck one into your mouth, letting your tongue massage him before you suck it off and let it go with a gentle pop, taking the other past your swollen lips and paying him the same attention. Bucky’s broken moans and whimpers fall freely from his lips, curses and your name intermingled as he begins to fully lose himself to the pleasure.
You watch as his tongue pokes out past his lips as he tries to hold himself back, a strangled noise leaving his throat as his body tenses. He’s kneading the tip of his cock as you play with his balls.
“Fuck - yes, baby, yes,” he calls out to you, voice tight, “fuck, please, sweetheart,” he begs.
You feel a sense of pride rush over you as you realize he’s asking for your permission. You sit up and get on your knees between his legs as he pants, his groans and growls growing louder the closer he gets.
“Where do you wanna come, baby?” you purr.
“Oh fuck,” he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before he returns his tortured gaze to you. “Oh god,” he moans headily, “fuck, baby, let me come inside you,” he mewls, “please.”
You bite your lip and waste no time in slipping off your panties before you straddle him. You feel his cock pressed against your wet pussy as you grip his length, his hands now grabbing your hips as you line him up to your slick entrance. You slide down on him and moan in sync with Bucky as he fills you perfectly, the way he always does. The stretch of him inside you is intoxicating. You aren’t surprised when you immediately feel his dick throbbing along your walls, his come filling you up as you watch in awe - his beautiful face twisting in his pleasure.
His hands are still gripping your hips as he thrusts up into you, riding out his orgasm before he loosens his hold on your hips and relaxes under you, panting before he starts to catch his breath.
You lean down and press your lips to his, kissing him lovingly as he smiles into it, wrapping his arms around you before flipping you onto your back easily as he hovers above you.
“You did so good, baby,” you praise him as you take his face in your hands, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs.
“Yeah?” he smiles coyly, melting into your soft touch.
“Mhm,” you hum, a contented sigh escaping you as you settle yourself further into the mattress, your hands dropping to the blanket beneath you, getting ready to sit up so you can pull it over your bodies.
Bucky’s deep laugh catches you off guard as you look up into his eyes, still swimming in lust as he licks his lips. He grabs your wrists in his hands and pulls them above your head as he drops his head to your neck, kissing your sweet spot as he nestles himself better between your thighs as you gasp lightly, a small moan tumbling past your lips at his attention.
“What?” he mumbles against your throat before picking his head up, “you think you can just lay down and go to sleep now?”
Bucky lets go of your wrists as he drags his palms over your breasts, squeezing you before he moves down your soft torso, his kisses ceaseless against your skin as you arch into his touch. “I’ve missed you all day, sweetheart. I’m gonna be makin’ up for it all night,” he assures you with his charming, toothy grin as you titter under him with a soft smile of your own. You dutifully spread your legs wider for him, ready and wanting for whatever he has in store.
warnings: angst, fluff, talk of insecurities, talk of rejection, virgin!reader but no smut - just mentioned, mutual pining - requited love - leaning toward idiots in love, hurt/comfort, pet names (sweetheart, doll), happing ending per usual. if i’m missing something important, pls lmk!
words: 4.3k
aspen!!! it’s crazy you sent this bc i was just about to start writing a little bucky fic and what better gif to use than this 😌 lol seriously perfect timing! tysm 🥰🫶🏻
and another huge thank you to you, ray for helping me out with the final edit!! @whatever-lmaoo i appreciate you sm! 🫶🏻
notes: had an idea, saw this gif, and then bam! here we are. yes i was clearly listening to down bad while working on this, but i promise it is not as sad as the song! also this fic is insanely self indulgent and i’m not even a little bit sorry lol. i do hope you enjoy this, and thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so so appreciated! let me know your thoughts 🩵
You’re holding in the emotions threatening to spill out of you as you step off the elevator to the living quarters of the tower. You know no one else is here, everyone out on missions or gone for some downtime out of the city, but still, there are cameras everywhere and you don’t need your impending breakdown to be recorded.
You pull your slipping bra strap up your shoulder and mindlessly pull at the hem of your dress as you walk further into the darkened living room, your heels clicking on the floor as you go.
Your head is down as you near the kitchen so you don’t see the light radiating from the open fridge, but you hear it as the door closes loudly. You startle and whip your head to the kitchen, finding the one person you really don’t need seeing you in your current state staring over at you.
“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathe as you have a hand over your heart. His mouth is open as his eyes scan your body, roving up and down and making you feel even more self conscious than you were before. “What are you doing, I thought I was the only one here for the weekend?”
“Little early for Halloween, isn’t it?” He asks, ignoring your question.
Your brows furrow in confusion, “What?”
“You’re dressed like a clown, aren’t you?”
You’re essentially frozen as you take in his words. The fear that came over you at his surprise appearance had your self pity and consciousness forgotten for a moment but now it was back. And it was worse. You don’t do anything but stare at him for a second, you’re afraid if you speak or even try to move you will break down in tears and - fuck - you can feel your eyes welling as they begin to sting. You take a sharp breath and swallow hard, nodding once as your lips purse and you blink. You turn stiffly and walk away without a response.
He’s right behind you, though and you don’t make it two steps before Bucky grabs your arm.
“Wow, hey, come on, I was joking,” he breathes a disbelieving laugh as he tries to turn you toward him.
You fight him and pull your arm away, “okay,” you huff, just wanting to get away from him before the dam really breaks.
He lets you go but trails behind you as you walk faster down to your room.
You push your door open and don’t turn around as the tears finally begin to fall, trying to shut the door behind you without having to look at him.
He sticks his foot in front of the door as you try shutting it and keeps it open.
“Go away,” you nearly growl through tears, your voice sounding tight and if he hadn’t already caught on to your crying, there was really no way to deny it now.
He doesn’t say anything but he does push your door open enough to slip through it. It falls shut as you stand with your back to him, sniffling and trying desperately to stop the flow of tears that are drowning you, arms crossed over your chest as you work to control your breathing. You just want him to leave you alone so you can cry in peace.
“Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, I really didn’t mean it, I was just kidding,” he begins softly, “but you and I both know I’ve said worse to you before, so,” he hedges, “maybe it wasn’t what I said that made you cry…”
“I dont wanna talk about it, Bucky. Why are you even here? Just leave me alone,” your voice trembles despite yourself.
He sighs heavily and you see him from your mirror as he runs a hand through his hair and takes a cautious step closer to you, “Yeah,” he breathes, “I dont think I’m gonna be able to do that, sweetheart.”
You bristle at the petname and can’t help the sob that leaves you as the reminder of how your date went tonight plays in your head.
“Go away,” you whine as more tears fall and you try to turn further from him - as if that were possible. Your eyes squeeze shut in a futile attempt to stop crying, a pathetic pout on your lips as you try to stifle your sobs.
A gentle pull on your arms has you turning around, you don’t have it in you to stop him as Bucky gingerly pulls you closer. You’re too embarrassed to open your eyes as you cry harder and when you feel his strong arms around you, holding you to him, the tears only come faster. You feel yourself lean into him as you mindlessly bury your face in his chest, hugging him tight like he’s the only thing keeping you upright.
His warm hand is rubbing up and down your back as your walls continue to crumble around him.
“It’s not fair,” you blubber like a child into his shirt.
He doesn’t respond, waiting for you to continue as he keeps rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you, his brows furrowing as he wonders what could’ve happened tonight to cause this.
He’s never seen you this way and he hates it - hates that you’re upset and crying, anyway. The way you feel in his arms, holding onto him like this, well that’s a different story…
He’s keeping his anger at bay until he knows exactly what went down, but he knows you had a date tonight, and the only reason he’s here when he had plans to be out of town this weekend is because you were going to have the place to yourself, and he couldn’t get the idea of you bringing your date back here alone out of his head. Immature, sure, but he didn’t know what else to do but wait around to scare whoever it was you were out with away before they had a chance to so much as see you out of your shoes.
He’s even more grateful now that he decided to change his plans last minute. He was surprised to see you coming in alone, and if he wasn’t so caught up in how damn good you looked tonight, he probably would’ve noticed your mood before he decided to open his stupid mouth. But that’s your thing; the teasing, the bickering, the tit for tats. He was expecting a jab right back, but when he saw your eyes watering at his words, he felt sick. He couldn’t let you walk away crying, he couldn’t stand to see you so upset. Especially because of him. But now, as you stand here in his arms, so uninhabited and vulnerable, he knows it wasn’t because of him. And when he finds out exactly what or who it was that made you so upset… god help them.
“It’s not fair,” you mumble your cry again, “I just,” you hiccup, “why can’t I be pretty,” you sob.
It’s takes a second for the words to register before Bucky can react. “What?” he questions harshly, pulling you away from him, his hands on your arms as your tear streaked face and bleary eyes peer up at him.
Your eyes squeeze shut again as your crying continues and you fall into him again, not wanting to look at him as you make your confession. “I just want,” you cry, “to be pretty. I want someone to like me. To love me,” you eke out, your heartbreak evident in your voice. “No one loves me,” you mutter defeatedly. “No one’s ever loved me and no one is ever gonna love me,” you sob, grabbing his shirt as you cry into his chest harder.
“What exactly did this asshole say to you?” Bucky knows he needs to calm down but what he’s hearing from you right now is going to drive him insane. Why in the world would you ever say or think this about yourself? Your date had to have done or said something, he’s sure of it.
“Nothing,” you dismiss, “I mean, nothing wrong or mean. They were nice about it, I just,” you can’t help but cry more. “I’m not their type. Which is fine,” you try to shake your head and rationalize yourself into stopping crying, “that’s fine, I know I’m not everyone’s type,” you gesture vaguely down your body, “and I wasn’t super into them, either, I was just trying to put myself out there for once and I just, ugh,” you bemoan. “I dont know why I was expecting anything different. It’s never been different, won’t ever be different. I’m just, me. And they said what everyone always thinks, I’m a sweetheart, I’m just not their type,” you shrug before your tears bubble up once more and you let your face fall back into Bucky’s chest.
“If I was skinny, or pretty, or nicer,” you babble before Bucky cuts you off.
“Doll, stop it,” he orders firmly, surprising you as he suddenly lifts you effortlessly off your feet and has you clinging to him as he walks the short distance to sit you on your bed.
You’re stunned silent as tears continue to roll down your cheeks and even more surprised as Bucky kneels before you, making sure you’re looking him in his clear blue eyes. His gaze is intent and penetrating and you couldn’t look away if you wanted to. He’s so close…he’s never been this close to you before and you feel your breath trapped in your chest as you watch him.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says seriously, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and you’re an idiot for ever thinking otherwise.
His sincerity has your stomach twisting and your shame and disbelief has your tears falling again.
Your lips quiver as your pout remains, and you shake your head.
“Don’t do that,” he admonishes, hand gently grabbing your chin and making you look at him again. You swallow hard at the soft touch and the tenderness in his eyes. “Hear me when I say this, doll. You are absolutely beautiful. Exactly the way you are. Fuck ‘type’.”
You wince at his words, and you can’t help but look away again. It’s easy for him to say, he’s goddamn gorgeous and everyone knows it.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but you really just don’t get it,” you shake your head. “You could walk down the street and get anybody you wanted with one look,” you smirk softly. “You’re everybody’s type.”
“You don’t need to be anyone’s ‘type’, sweetheart,” he says.
“Yeah, and I’m not,” you reiterate harshly before taking a breath, not wanting to work yourself up again. This is stupid and you know it and it feels even more mortifying to be talking about this with not only the most attractive man you’ve ever known, but also the man you’ve been down bad for for so long. Deep down you know you don’t really care what most anyone else thinks, there’s really only one person you care about not finding you attractive, and you’ve worked to get over that sting of unrequital for a long while now, but fuck, everything just feels so heavy tonight. It’s not even that it’s just not him, which still gets to you every time you’re reminded of it, it’s that it’s not anyone.
And it’s not that you even want anyone else… you don’t, but knowing there’s really no one interested in you, the very real prospect of being alone forever, it got to you tonight…
“You don’t know that,” he says lowly.
“Bucky,” you roll your eyes, not only in annoyance, but also to keep the threatening renewal of tears at bay.
“So what you’re not some random person you don’t even like’s type,” he dismisses, placing his hands on your thick thighs as he stays kneeled before you, and you aren’t sure if he even realizes he’s doing it as his thumbs rub there softly, “you’re my type,” he defends.
You could curl up into a ball right now and die, there is no way you’re this fucking pathetic you have Bucky Barnes on his knees trying to convince you he thinks you’re pretty. As if this night couldn’t get any worse or more embarrassing.
You’ve seen the people Bucky has brought back here before. He certainly had a type, and you are certainly not it.
“You don’t have to say that, Bucky,” you blink away from his gaze. “It’s nice that you feel bad for me,” you sniffle, wiping at your tears with the sleeves of your dress, “but you really don’t have to.”
“Why do you think I feel bad for you?” He questions, moving to look you in the eyes once more, his confusion clear on his face.
You shrug, turning your head to again avoid eye contact, “I’m pathetic,” you laugh sardonically, wiping at the tears still slipping, slower now but still evident.
“You’re pathetic?,” Bucky chuckles, his soft touches on your thighs ceaseless. He bites his lip as he glances down to his hands, spreading his fingers wide before he squeezes you a bit, and if you aren’t reading into it, you’d say he seems the slightest bit nervous, his hold on you as much to try to comfort you as it is to comfort him, “I’m the one who bailed on guys weekend just to make sure you didn’t bring anyone home tonight,” he admits, causing you to finally look him in the eye again. What did he just say? You’re baffled and it’s evident as your brows furrow and you frown. He continues, “Or if you did, to make sure they wouldn’t stay long,” he half smirks, half grimaces.
“What?” you breathe out.
“Not the most mature move, I know, but,” he says, running a hand through his hair before he rubs the back of his neck, having the decency to at least be a little embarrassed by his plan. “The thought of you with someone else…anyone else,” he shakes his head. “I can’t stand it.”
You can’t possibly be hearing what you’re hearing, right? You don’t move or speak for a long moment as you try to make sense of what Bucky’s saying to you because clearly you’re not hearing correctly.
“You can’t stand…” you process aloud, “the idea of me being with someone?”
He breathes a laugh as you stare at him dumbly, his nervous habit of pushing his long hair back from his face shines again while he chuckles. “Doll, I can’t stand the idea of you being with anybody who isn’t me,” he clarifies.
“What are you-?” you shake your head, “What do you mean?”
His big hands return to your thighs as he gently squeezes you. “I mean that if you had come home with someone tonight, I would’ve made sure they didn’t stay more than a minute to say goodbye.”
You snort a laugh, wiping another tear from your cheek. That’s crazy.
“Please. ‘M not that kinda girl anyway, Buck,” you say. “I uhm,” you clear your throat, clearly a little uncomfortable with what you’re about to say, but fuck, you’ve already embarrassed yourself this much tonight, what’s a little more confessing gonna hurt, “I’ve never…done, anything. With anyone.” You admit, looking down at your hands in your lap.
It’s a moment before Bucky speaks again.
“Never?”
You shake your head slowly side to side, lips pursed, “No,” you murmur.
“That’s impressive,” he breathes.
You quirk a brow at his response.
“Mean, you gotta be batting people off like crazy,” he says, his warm hand once resting on your thigh now thoughtlessly trailing down the soft skin of your leg.
“No,” you state slightly annoyed and ever embarrassed. “Not like anyone’s ever been interested,” you trail off.
Bucky laughs again, not so nervous now, more in disbelief, “You’re so blind,” he muses, “I feel so bad for everyone who has ever been interested in you.”
Your face shows your taken offense but Bucky keeps talking before you can say a word about it.
“If you really think no one’s ever been attracted to you, you’re fucking crazy, sweetheart.”
You gape like a fish for a millisecond, opening and closing your mouth as you blink down at your thighs, his metal hand holding your right thigh softly and the fingers of his right hand dancing along the exposed skin of your left.
“I’m not crazy,” you mutter as his hand slips higher up your leg.
“You are,” he argues lightly, “and you make me crazy,” he says softer, blue eyes gleaming up at you. “Have you not heard a word I’ve said tonight?” He pauses, debating on whether or not he wants to say what he’s about to say before he decides to throw caution to the wind and finally admit his true feelings to you, as clearly as he possibly can this time. “You’re all I ever think about. Not just because of how pretty you are, either,” he smirks, growing more confident now and loving the way you react to his touch as his hands smooth along your soft thighs, goosebumps rising in his wake as he hears your breathing stutter. “It’s so much more than that,” he breaths in, “it’s every single thing about you. Your snark,” he smiles, “your strength. Your bravery, your stubbornness. Your lame jokes,” he pauses to admire the slant of your lips as you fight a soft smile, “your laugh. Your kindness, your friendship. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. The whole damn package, doll. And that’s without even bringing looks into it, because fuck,” he scoffs, “it’s a real shame you don’t see what everyone else sees.”
You dare a glance back at his penetrative gaze, “…And what, exactly, is that?” you reply timidly, but desperately wanting to hear his answer.
“A real life goddess,” he admires as he leans closer to you, his hands now well under the hem of your dress as they inch further and further up your thighs.
Your stomach is in a flurry as a tingle sparks inbetween your legs at his touch.
He leans up to you slowly, testing your waters as he gets closer and closer to your lips. You’re barely breathing when his nose brushes yours and you take a shaky breath when his hands leave your thighs and come to gently hold your face.
“You’re insanely pretty, and likable, and lovable, and you don’t need to be skinny for anyone to find you attractive. You’re gorgeous, inside and out. And I don’t wanna hear you talking about yourself like you were ever again, you hear me?” He questions quietly, intent but caring as he holds your glistening gaze in his.
You nod lightly, knowing tonight you weren’t your typical self. You had a hard night, and you let those old mean, destructive and intrusive thoughts get to you. You really do know better, but you’re human. And everybody has those days. You’re suddenly feeling even more grateful for Bucky’s unexpected presence tonight. If he wasn’t here, you’re sure you’d have spent the night in a spiral of self hatred and pity and would’ve probably cried yourself to sleep.
Your tears are dry now, though. And Bucky is still so close, his touch so gentle as his brilliant blue eyes swim with his care for you. You’ve seen it before, but it’s never felt so real and intimate as it does now, knowing what you know now.
He’s here tonight because of you. For you.
He’s not expecting anything, and you’re not sure how much you’re ready to give, but as he smiles that lopsided smile at you, you can’t help yourself as you lean into him, too. It’s slow and cautious as your lips brush his, and then you let your eyes flutter closed as you finally kiss him. It’s almost embarrassing how many times you’ve dreamed of kissing Bucky, but none of them played out like this, none of them ever came close. His lips are soft, his hands firm as he holds your face and you readily let him lead you as he kisses you back.
It ends all too quickly as he pulls away slightly, his tongue slipping past his lips as he savors the taste of you, his forehead touching yours as he maintains your closeness.
“And just for the record, I don’t think you look like a clown,” he shakes his head while you let out a quiet laugh. “I think your makeup looks great, and this dress,” he sighs with a near groan, moving his hands to settle on your wide hips, squeezing ever so slightly, sending more sparks to light in your core as you almost mewl at his touching, “I know you know you look good,” he smirks. “I was just being stupid wanting your attention.”
“Well,” you start with a slight eye roll, “I mean, who could really blame you?”
He smiles brightly at that, his laugh warming you as he leans in to kiss you again. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs against your lips.
“Your girl?” You ask, a near whisper as his words have your heart skipping a beat, eyes still closed from the kiss before you slowly blink them open. He nods.
“If you wanna be,” he breathes, blue eyes bearing into yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to finally admit how crazy I am for you without making myself look like a complete idiot,” he simpers, his signature smirk on display, “obviously didn’t avoid that, but, now you know. I’m crazy about you, doll.” His thumb rubs your cheek softly as he keeps you close, “I wanna be with you,” he breathes, “in any way you’ll have me. So, if you wanna be my girl,”
You smile softly, nodding as you cut him off, “I wanna be.”
You see his toothy smile before Bucky kisses you hotly as he surges up without warning, hoisting you up with him as you squeak into his mouth, arms clinging around his neck as his own hold you under your bottom. His strength is so effortless it surprises you for a second, but in an instant you get more comfortable in his hold as he continues kissing you. His smile grows on his lips as you kiss him back in kind until you’re forced to break away for a breath.
“I’m not happy you were so upset earlier,” he says as he catches his breath, forehead pressing to yours as you tuck his falling hair behind his ears while he holds you, “but I’m so fucking glad you came back here alone.”
“Well, I’m not happy you were trying to ambush me,” you joke, “but I’m really glad you were here tonight,” you whisper the words as your hands play in his hair, noses brushing, you’re still so close.
You’re staring into each other’s eyes until your gaze falls to his lips. Bucky kisses you again, so much softer than he did before.
“Me too,” he whispers softly. You smile and then pat his shoulders. He gets your message and gently lets you go as your heels touch the floor.
“I know it’s late,” he starts, closing the small distance between you as he takes a step closer, not wanting to be too far from you, already missing your proximity, “but you were expecting a nice date tonight, and you didn’t get one,” he sighs, “I just don’t think that’s right,” he exhales with that ‘hear me out’ purse of his lips. You eye him expectantly, fighting a smile as you wait for him to get it out.
“What do you think about catching a movie and grabbing food at that place you like? With me,” he adds as if it wasn’t obvious, earning a bright laugh from you for the first time tonight. “It’s a Saturday, so you know they’re open late anyway,” he rambles.
You lean into him with your shoulder as you stand so close to each other, getting his attention back on your face as you smile. “I would really like that, Bucky,” you nod. “I’m just gonna,” you wave a hand around your face, “fix this up a bit.”
He laughs as he rubs a streak of black from under your eye, “still beautiful,” he simpers.
Your entire body warms at his touch and his admiration as you grab his hand gently in yours and pull him closer. He seems to read your mind as his arms circle you and he leans in to take your lips in his.
It’s sweet and so natural it’s hard to believe you guys hadn’t done this sooner. The friendship was always there, but you never knew the feelings were too. All this time you convinced yourself your harbored feelings for Bucky were unreciprocated, and all the while, he was trying to figure out how to confess his own to you.
You laugh quietly into the kiss, amusement playing on your lips as you think back on every encounter you’ve had with Bucky that had you falling harder and harder for him.
“What’s funny?” He asks as you part with a grin.
“It’s just, all so obvious now,” you giggle. “I always thought I was reading into things with you, that you were just being nice, just wanted to be friends,” you trail off, swaying closer to him in your heels. “But, this whole time,” you blink up at him, lips parted gently as he keeps your body to his, holding you close.
“This whole time,” he simpers, a soft smile on his lips. “What the hell took us so long?”
“Uhm,” you muse aloud, “probably our combined stupidity,” you joke as he chuckles, his smile never wavering as he keeps his eyes on you, “but, let’s just call it fate,” you shrug on a soft exhale. You lean closer to Bucky even more, letting your lips brush his again, the feeling one you don’t think you’ll ever tire of, “no better time than the present, right?”
warnings: sweetness. tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff fluff fluff. grumpy x grumpy sweethearts who haven’t defined the relationship lol. cuddling. blink and you’ll miss it mention of body insecurities. uhhh if i’m missing something that should be tagged pls let me know!
words: 1.7k
notes: idk where this came from but if you’re noticing repeating themes in my writings - no you’re not.
anyway! thank you in advance for reading, i hope you enjoy. as always, reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated! let me know your thoughts 🩵
“Get out,” you speak, your ever present annoyance clear in your voice while your stone face is completely unaffected as you type on your phone, not bothering to so much as glance at the door. You’re comfy in your bed while your space heater hums and you keep typing away as you hear the door click shut once again.
Your blanket is pulled and your bed shifts beneath you as you type faster, working to finish your thought before it slips away completely. Still not looking at anything but your screen,
“Get off my bed,” you demand to no avail.
“Shut up,” he grumbles, his own constant annoyance audible as he easily wraps you up in his strong arms. Your soft body presses against his as you maintain focus on your phone, rolling into his hold while maneuvering your device from hitting him. One last sentence and you’re done. You hit save and then let your phone drop after locking it.
“What happened to hello?” he asks harshly as he holds you close.
“You were busy,” you shrug matter of factly, face in his chest as you get comfortable.
“Look at me,” he demands, forcing you to angle your face to meet his eye as you sigh with a roll of your eyes.
“What?” you humph. “I’ve been gone three days, you haven’t even had time to miss me.”
“I don’t care if you’ve only been gone three minutes,” he squeezes your jaw a bit, eliciting a sharp breath from you as your gaze softens up at him. “If you’re not right next to me, doll, I’m missing you.”
The sincerity and warmth in his normally icy blue eyes has your heart melting just a little more. He missed you… he really missed you?
It’s atypical for you, but you don’t have anything to say in refute as you stare back at him - a part of you waiting to see something that will give him away and confirm your suspicions that he’s lying. The other just wanting to commit that look in his eyes and the gorgeous color to memory.
He missed you.
No one’s ever missed you before…not really.
He came to your room of his own free will, just to see you? He’s holding you so close and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so warm or welcome.
Or wanted.
And he’s not even trying to get you out of your clothes. He’s just here. To be here. To see you. Because he missed you.
He missed you.
“And for the record,” he continues speaking, interrupting your thoughts, “I won’t ever be too busy for you.” His eyes soften even more as he notices the growing emotion welling in them as you work to maintain your facade of careless, feel nothing, grump. He knows the feeling. He knows you.
He brushes his lips softly on your forehead and he feels your fingers tighten ever so slightly in his shirt as you let yourself relax a bit more into him, “Not for you,” he mumbles his promise.
You fight a shudder as you blink your eyes, batting your lashes in an attempt to fight the sting of welling tears before they have a chance to fall. Damn this man and his uncanny ability to have your walls crumbling around him within mere minutes.
You’re still not even sure how this all started. It was one night together on a mission.
And then another night together back home.
And then another.
And another.
And then an afternoon together. And then a morning.
And then a full day.
Into the next.
And then it was sharing beds every now and again.
And dinners.
And then more and more frequent sleepovers. And now it’s? You aren’t sure.
It went from just desperate late night sex to…to whatever this is.
But, whatever it is, you think it might be for the better. Bucky helps you feel…better.
Safe.
Cared for.
Loved.
You push that thought away. That’s just…too much.
Isn’t it?
You cuddle into him despite yourself, nuzzling into his chest for comfort.
“Sorry.”
It’s nearly a whisper, but he hears you. His big hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back as he keeps you to him.
“I wan-,” you bite your tongue, swallowing the lump growing in your throat.
I wanted to, you were going to say, to see you first. Just didn’t want to bug you.
You hear his response in your mind as you thoughtlessly press your lips. ‘You’re not a bug. You’re not a burden.’ You know what he’ll say, and you want to believe him. But you don’t think you can hear him say it right now without the damn breaking.
You try to clear your throat as you let your hands wander him and speak a little louder now,
“I missed you.”
He’s smiling softly, not that you can see it, as he grabs your hand gently caressing his side and brings it to his lips. Your gaze follows the movement curiously before you watch him kiss your hand. Your stomach flutters at the small act of affection.
Bucky tugs you closer and you lift your leg to hook over his, just wanting to be closer, to feel him more.
“And how dare you try to kick me out of my own room,” he scolds.
You laugh, real and true as you shove him a bit. “This is not your room,” you deny.
His toothy grin is infectious as he eyes you. “Oh yeah?” he says, reaching behind you to grab something, “then what’s my pillow doing in here?”
You freeze for half a second, he notices but doesn’t mention it, as your eyes widen ever so slightly. No, you think, you definitely put that back before you left.
You quirk a brow as you turn to see his pillow in his hand before he drops it back on the bed. You know you put his pillow back, and wait…that wasn’t even the pillow you had.
Why would his pillow be in here, unless…
“You slept in here?” you ask, your voice much softer than you intended as you look in his eyes.
His smirk has lightened drastically, but still gently tugs on the corner of his lips as he tries to read your thoughts. He nods a little, breaking eye contact for a quick moment as he wets his lips out of habit,
“I missed you.”
Your own lips quirk at the corner as you feel your heart swell.
“And you were due back here at four this morning,” he adds.
He was waiting for you.
You knew someone at the tower was monitoring the flight itinerary but you’d assumed it was Stark or Fury. Now you know it was him. And your heart somehow feels like it’s gonna burst out of your chest as your tummy tingles with something you don’t think you can actually name.
But it’s good.
Better than good.
Oh god.
Maybe it is love…
He turns to lay on his back and takes you with him as he does.
You groan a bit and try to shuffle off him, not wanting to crush him despite his super soldier status. He doesn’t let you, not that you’re surprised. He keeps his hands on you, one on your bent thigh and the other around your back, resting protectively on the curve of your waist meeting your hip.
He loves the feeling of your body on his, revels in your weight resting on top of him - in every circumstance. Your curves, your softness, your warmth.
You.
“Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles, letting his eyes close as he relaxes into the mattress. You sigh, staring at his contented face while his hands gently squeeze you comfortingly.
You watch him for a while, enraptured by his peaceful rest until you really feel his breaths even out. He’s sleeping like a baby as you lay on top of him and you can’t help your disbelieving titter. How this is comfortable for him, you’ll never know.
You let a hand touch his cheek gently, your fingers brushing his five o’clock shadow. You angle yourself to put a delicate kiss on his stubbly jaw. You don’t notice his nose twitch a bit or the tiniest furrow of his brow as you pull away.
Your fingers card through his hair as you admire him. You take a deep breath. If you can feel it, you can say it…
Another stuttered breath. “I,” you start, “I love you,” you murmur softly, sure he can’t hear you. You lean just a touch closer, lips just brushing his cheek. “I really love you.”
You feel a little proud of yourself as you pull away. You said it. You don’t know the last time you told someone you loved them. Can’t remember the last time you really felt it, or felt safe enough to say it. Sure, he’s sleeping, but still. You said it. And if you said it now, you know you can say it again. One day. When he’s awake. When you’re ready. You smile to yourself before you let your head rest on his chest, content now to sleep for a bit too in the comfort of his presence.
Bucky’s heart is beating so damn loudly he’s a little terrified you’ll hear it as you make yourself more comfortable atop him. He wants to squeeze you and tell you how much he loves you too, to kiss you til you’re dizzy and make sure you really understand just how deeply in love with you he is.
But he knows he wasn’t really meant to hear that just now. And despite that, he’s really glad that he did.
Because you love him.
You really love him.
He knows this is new to you, and you’re still trying to get used to it, to figure it all out, despite the fact that there’s no mystery here for you to solve. But he doesn’t mind moving at whatever pace you want or need. After so long, he never thought he’d find this. Never thought he’d feel this again.
And then came you.
You’re his perfect match. And his best friend.
And you love him.
Bucky’s never really felt lucky in his life. But here and now, with you starting to mumble softly as you lay on his chest, trusting him, loving him, well he’d consider himself the luckiest man in the world.
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (soulmate au)
warnings: really nothing but fluff. mentions of light baking burns. lmk if something needs to be tagged.
words: 2.3k
notes: this is my entry for @lunarbuck’s soulmate challenge. i used the prompt: you cannot feel pain until you meet your soulmate.🩵 and thank you to @dreamlandcreations for beta reading/editing my first draft!
Mmm, you hummed mindlessly.
The sweet, warm aroma of your latest batch of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies swirled through your small bakery, filling your nose and eliciting a smile from you as you walked to the back counter, setting down the hot tray you were holding.
You slid off the oven mit you wore and tossed it carelessly before you spun around to get the last tray of dough in the oven.
Your fingers brushed the hot grate of the oven as you slipped the tray in, and though you couldn’t feel the pain or burn of it, you still mentally chided yourself for not being more careful.
It was mid-September, that time of year when summer was still the season, but fall was all around.
You had been messing with some seasonal recipes for the past few days and had most of your impending fall lineup set. You were going to start slow with the roll out, and today was the first day you’d have these cookies out in the display.
You were a bit overly excited, but you hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that today would be a great day since you’d gotten up. Even Nickie calling to let you know she’d be late for her shift hadn’t dampened your mood.
You sipped from the straw of your cold brew, floating aimlessly around the quaint space while you were waiting for the cookies to cool, the oven to go off, or a customer to walk in. You’d swept the floor and cleaned the counters and tables a good three times now despite their already pristine state. It was a slow day, but you knew not to expect many people until after noon.
You eventually found yourself staring out the large glass window at the front of the shop, looking out onto the picturesque town street, watching the few passersby and the leaves that were blowing around; the branches of the trees that lined the streets swaying gently in the late summer breeze.
You weren’t sure why, but as you stood there gazing out the window, you suddenly found yourself growing eager, a sense of excitement coming over you. You felt like you were waiting for something…someone.
Just as the feelings were put into words in your mind, the ringing of the entrance bell sounded and pulled you from your thoughts. You tutted quietly at yourself before you turned and went to greet whoever it was.
You stopped short on your hello when you saw Nickie pulling off her cardigan.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” you said with a teasing smirk and a raised brow.
Nicki smiled guiltily, “Sorry,” she offered through a nervous titter, “Eli’s alarm didn’t go off, so we were both scrambling this morning.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you brushed off her apology, “it’s been pretty quiet so far.”
“It smells amazing in here, did you make the pumpkin cookies?”
“Last batch is in the oven right now,” you nodded with a grin. “There’s some in the display case already, grab one, tell me what you think,” you said, walking over to meet her behind the counter.
You grasped your hands together while you leaned against the side of the register, anxious to get her thoughts.
Nickie grabbed a cookie and just as she was about to take a bite, the bell on the door rang again. You turned, smiling to offer your usual, “Hello, welcome in!”, but your voice caught in your throat when you did, only managing out a half hello.
Your eyes met steel blue as the man who had just entered stalled in his path for a brief second. He blinked then and seemed to correct his posture, clearing his throat, eyes never leaving yours, “Hi,” he offered.
“Welcome in,” you breathed, voice much quieter than you intended it to be.
You couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him as he approached the counter. He was tall, well built with dark hair, and god, those eyes. You could swim in them, they were so blue. He looked effortlessly cool, wearing a dark canvas jacket with the collar popped ever so slightly over a plain charcoal henley, his black jeans and boots completing the outfit as a chain of silver showed a bit from above his shirt collar. The dark color scheme worked well for the weather and for his features. The blue of his eyes even more emphasized by the color of his clothing. His jaw was square and sharp, and the structure of his cheekbones brought attention to the bags under his eyes. But they, along with his five o’clock shadow, only added to his aesthetic. You wondered if he knew that, if he was aware. You’d seen many a man who wore the same style, but it was so clearly put on. This seemed to be very him. Not that you knew him, of course, but still it was evident.
It occurred to you though, as cool as he seemed, there was the tiniest bit of pink coloring his cheeks as he slyly rubbed his neck, before he finally stood before you, that betrayed his air of cool.
Nickie looked between the two of you with a quirked brow as you began taking the man’s order.
Your fingers twiddled over the screen in your nervousness while he looked over the menu, musing aloud before he moved to walk the display case.
“What’s your favorite?” he asked, a wave of self assurance growing over him as he casually shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to watch you as you forced your own hands to still before standing up a bit straighter at the question. It was innocent enough, despite the smoothness of his words and the smile that played on the corner of his lips as he recognized your fidgeting for what it is - your own nerves bounding around you.
“Oh, um,” you took a breath, thinking for a second, “I’m pretty partial to the classics, actually,” you said with a small smile, moving down a bit to be closer to where he stood, a bit of your own self assurance coming over you in turn. “The pink sugar cookie and the chocolate chip are probably the biggest sellers, too. But, in my humble opinion, you really can’t go wrong with whatever you choose.”
He smiled at you as you let your own gaze drift down to the case of treats before you.
“If you want to try anything, we do samples, so-” you were about to start rambling when the oven went off, both of you looking over at the sound.
“I’ll get it,” Nickie called from the small kitchen, just past the back counter, where she had gone to eat her cookie.
You turned back to the man and were met with his eyes already on you, both of your brows raising in quiet surprise. He was closer to you now than he was a moment again, and you tittered. You couldn’t fight the small smile that cracked on your face, and he returned a soft one of his own.
“Did you wanna-” you were cut off by Nickie as she looked around, growing a little frantic.
“Do you know where the oven mit is?”
“Oh, I had it..” you tried to think where it could have landed when you’d tossed it earlier, making a face as you came up empty, moving to search the area with her. “Ahhh. I don’t.. Damn,” you breathed.
You took another quick glance around before you moved to the oven. You really didn’t want them to burn.
“I’ll just grab it really fast,” you told Nickie as you pulled the oven door open.
She cringed at the thought, “I know you can’t feel it, but still, you shouldn’t do that,” she warned.
“I’ll be fine,” you assured her, “I’ll put them down super quick, can you just clear the counter and then we’ll move them to the rack in a minute.”
You could feel the man’s eyes on you still, and as you reached to grab the tray, you turned to speak to him, “Sorry. If you want to try anything, just let me know.”
As you were turning and talking, you blindly grabbed the tray.
It took a second for it to hit you but then all at once you felt the burn.
You quickly let go, pulling your hand back with a harsh gasp before you could get the cookies out. You grasped onto your wrist out of instinct as the pain burned through you.
“Fuck,” you cursed as you gripped your hand.
“Are you okay?” both the man and Nickie asked in unison, watching you with concern.
You flicked your eyes up to the man before looking over at Nickie.
“It.. it hurts,” you said, confused by the fact that you felt it at all, and yet knowing full well what that had to mean.
“Oh,” she breathed in response, her gaze flicking over to the man still standing at the counter, but getting closer, all the while keeping his eyes on you. She blinked, eyes rounding slightly as she looked at you once more, “I’ll get a towel or something.”
She rushed away while you groaned softly. Both at the stinging burn and the fact that your cookies were definitely getting too baked.
“Just grab whatever will work,” you called to her, “they’re gonna burn if we leave them any longer.”
“I can grab them for you,” the man offered as he approached you, coming around the counter to where you were. “I uh, I haven’t met my soulmate, so…” he seemed a little embarrassed by the confession as you stared at him dumbly.
Your mind was racing with all the things you wanted to say to him, but your tongue was refusing to move as you stood there holding your hand.
He stepped closer, and it seemed he was waiting for your permission as he nodded to the oven. You looked at him and then to the tray of cookies waiting to be taken out. You took a step back and gave him room to get to the tray. A part of you wanted to warn him that you’d thought the same thing when you’d grabbed it, only to be proven wrong, but another wanted to confirm that... that it was him.
You watched intently as he reached into the oven. It felt like he was moving in slow motion while you waited for his hand to make contact with the metal tray.
He grasped it and his forehead creased, brows furrowing as he quickly moved from the oven to drop it onto the back counter. You were holding your breath and almost deflated until you realized he was cursing under his when he was holding the tray.
“Shit,” he cursed once more, shaking out his hand, his brows still drawn together. You were staring at him with rounded eyes as you continued clutching your own burn.
You offered him your name and you stepped closer, your voice making him lift his gaze from examining the burn on his hand, up to you.
His brilliant eyes seemed to twinkle in understanding as he met your own. He breathed a smile, mirroring your movements and taking a step to you in turn.
“James. You can call me Bucky,” he simpered.
“Bucky,” you nodded as your lips curled into a soft smile of your own. “Thank you, for saving the cookies,” you offered.
“You’re welcome. Should maybe invest in some more oven mitts, though,” he joked with a mirthful smirk playing on his lips.
“I should,” you agreed with a nod and a light laugh. “Sorry about your hand.. I uhm, I have a first aid kit in the back,” you gestured with your head, “burn cream included.”
“That’d be good,” he said, “and you have nothing to be sorry about, I offered,” he continued, trailing you to the back. Nickie passed you sheepishly, though she gave you a small, knowing smile as she went to watch the front.
You swallowed hard and cleared your throat of your nerves as you worked to collect yourself, gathering your bearings with this turn of events.
“So... Bucky, huh?” you said as you grabbed the stuff you needed from the kit and watched him lean against the empty counter. You walked back over to him as he waited for you.
“Yeah. It’s uh,” he stifled a small hiss as you smeared some ointment onto his burn, gently holding his hand as you did. There was something about the soft touch that you couldn’t quite explain. The way it makes you feel, something you’ve never felt before. It wasn’t like the pain, it was more like a comfort, but still it was new. “It’s usually reserved for friends...family, but I think soulmate fits in there, too,” he smiled charmingly at you before taking the tube of cream from your hand. “Unless you like James more,” he offered, “honestly, I’d probably answer to whatever you wanted to call me,” he flirted easily.
You held your breath at the touch, and let out a soft titter at his words, a spark stemming from his hold as you let him put some ointment on your small burn.
“I think I’ll go with Bucky for now,” you smiled, meeting his brilliant blue gaze.
“So I- I’m not too sure how this goes…” he started, a self-deprecating smile sitting crooked on his lips while he let go of your hand, somewhat reluctantly, once he was done with the cream, setting the tube on the counter before looking back at you, “but I was thinking we could start with dinner.”
There was a twinkle in his eye again, hope shining through, and you were sure your gaze held much the same as you waited for him to ask. “Are you free tonight?”
I’m hooked on biker/bartender bucky(even tattoo artist bucky) with fucking Tats right now and I’d totally love if you could maybe write him and chubby/plus sized reader having a flirty relationship, maybe they’re like a fling or something. She works at his bar/tattoo shop, whichever au you pick, and they’re just fucking flirty and so naughty together lol
Smut is always welcomed!!
Thank u bby in advance<3 mwahhh🥺💋
about how it started..
pairing: bartender!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. pining. flirting. smut. a little tiny hint of voyeurism/exhibitionism. if i’m missing something pls lmk!
words: 3.1k
notes: thank you, mickey, for sending this and sorry it took so long! i kind of wanted to incorporate more mention of his tattoos but i felt like i kept screwing it up so i kept it very vague - i’m sorry. but i hope you like this! i really love the idea and i’d love to do more with them in the future, too (including more of his tattoos too 🥴), so thank you, thank you, thank you!! 🥰
also this gif isn’t necessarily the bucky i was picturing but the visible tattoo feels right so whatever 😌
i hope you guys enjoy this! thank you in advance for reading and reblogging. as always, feedback and comments are always welcome and so appreciated! 🖤
You know you should be checking tables right now. You know. But goddamn if you can’t take your eyes off of the brawny, blue eyed, six foot something beauty that is Bucky Barnes.
You’re leaning against the far end of the bar, eyes fixed on him with no plans of trailing anywhere else.
He’s making another Sex on the Beach for the less than subtle, leggy, bleach blonde who’s been fawning over him since she got here. When she and the other college girls showed up, seeming to have already been pregaming, you knew tonight wouldn’t be uneventful.
You could obsess over the fact that the twenty one year old, who looked like she stepped right off a runway, was currently pushing her chest out and twirling her perfectly styled hair as she continued rambling on and on to Bucky, but his disinterest was clear to you as he kept a polite smile and entertained her as he finished the drink.
That, and because you had no right or reason to obsess over who was flirting with him and when.
Right?
You pushed the thoughts away as you admired Bucky’s profile. The way some of his hair had fallen out of his bun and hung around his perfectly sculpted face. How his brilliantly blue eyes shone still through the dark strands. And god did you envy his perfectly shaped nose. Your eyes fell to his lips as he smiled at something the girl said, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care, you were so caught up in the beauty of it. He gave her the drink before he tucked the loose hair behind his ears.
You watched as the girl held out a twenty with a sultry smile and a wink before Bucky took it with a small laugh as she sauntered off back to her friends.
He put it in the cash box and then pushed up his sleeves as he took the time to count out how much the bar had made so far tonight.
You swear your mouth went dry as his tattoos were on display now. The dark ink that told story after story lining his forearm, and though you couldn’t see them right now, led all the way up his strong arm only added to the endless list of things that made him attractive. The artwork was mesmerizing. Just like him.
“You just gonna stare at me your whole shift, sweetheart?” he says to you without looking over, a smirk playing on his lips.
You take in a breath before pushing off the bar and walk over to meet him where he stands.
“Who says I was staring at you?” you question and lean over just slightly to glance at Torres who was pouring shots at the other end of the bar.
Bucky turns to follow your gaze and gives a laugh when he sees who you’re referring to.
“You and Torres, huh?” he plays along, smirk never faltering. He finishes his count and tucks the box back under the bar before he turns fully to you, blocking your view of the younger man completely, not that you cared.
Bucky walks into you, backing you up until you’re forced into the dead corner of the bar. You nearly stop breathing when he leans into you, his cologne invading your senses, his warmth surrounding you as he keeps you trapped between him and the bar, his thick arms on either side of you. Your lips part on an inaudible gasp when his lips brush against your ear.
“He know I was guts deep inside you last night? How you were screaming my name, begging me not to pull out? So fuckin’ desperate to be full‘a me,” he reminds you as his hands find your waist and he squeezes your softness before pulling you flush against him and letting his hands slide down to your ass. “How many times did you come again? I think I lost count,” he taunts as he leans over you and gropes you shamelessly.
You can see out past his shoulder as he nearly nuzzles into your neck, your eyes growing heavy with desire as your lips stay parted in heated awe.
Your eyes meet the blonde Bucky had just served as she looks on in a bit of a stupor before blinking and turning away with a hint of a blush warming her cheeks.
“Watch it, Barnes. You’re gonna lose out on tips if you’re not careful,” you warn playfully, if not a bit breathily.
When he starts kissing your neck, your knees become unsteady as a warmth starts to grow in your tummy.. and lower. Your hands latch onto the front of his shirt in an effort to stay steady.
You’ve noticed he’s been getting more brazen every day, more teasing and touching when he knows full well people can see, and the fact that he really doesn’t seem to care sparks a bit of hope that maybe this could grow into something more than what it started as.
But as Bucky nips and then gently kisses your pulse point, all thoughts fly right out the window as your main focus is solely on not melting into a puddle right then and there.
“Don’t care,” he says against your delicate skin, placing another kiss to your neck before you push him back just slightly. “What?” he asks as a half smile adorns his face when he stands up straight again, looking down at you.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish right now,” you say as you hold his smoldering gaze.
“You think I won’t fuck you right now?” he challenges, his seriousness sending a thrill up your spine.
You let out a nervous, disbelieving laugh as you push him to turn around. “I think you have some patrons waiting for your attention,” you say, ignoring the desire burning deep within at his words.
He sucks his teeth as he walks back over to the lively area of the bar, but not before eyeing you with a look that promises he isn’t done with you tonight.
You watch him back before spinning around and coming out from behind the bar to start checking tables.
—
You’re leaning over a newly emptied table close to the bar when you feel his heavy gaze on you.
The low cut scoop neck of your top already offered a generous view of your cleavage, but as you’re leaning over to wipe the table down, you’re sure he can see right down your shirt. You hide your smirk as you walk around the table and make a show of leaning over once more, your tight black skirt that hugs your tummy riding up your thick thighs as you do. You’d forgone underwear under your opaque black tights and wonder for a second how much he can see as you bend further over the table.
You don’t have much time to wonder as suddenly Bucky is right up behind you. You stand up against him, your ass brushing against his crotch. His hands are on your skirt as he adjusts it back down for you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, voice low and husky.
“Cleaning a table,” you answer innocently as you stay where you are, enjoying the feeling of his large hands on your wide hips and his solid chest at your back.
“Yeah? Cuz from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re purposely being a little tease.”
“Me?” you say in faux offense, turning to face him. “I’d never. Just doing my job, boss.”
He pushes you back against the table just slightly, “So, you’re telling me you haven’t been thinking about how hot it’d be if I came up behind you, ripped your tights open and fucked you stupid right here on this table?”
You swallow hard as you feel yourself growing wet at the scene that plays out in your mind. The bar is near empty as you’re both getting ready to close up but the idea of Bucky taking you right here and now, onlookers be damned, has heat creeping up your skin.
“Say I have. What are you gonna do about it?” you whisper wantonly, eyes swimming with lust.
A sinful growl escapes him as he presses himself closer to you. You can feel his growing bulge against you and it takes everything in you to not let out the whimper that threatens to slip past your lips.
Joaquin left twenty minutes ago after him and Bucky served last call, so it’s just you two and the lingerers who are slowly making their way out.
“What am I gonna do about it?” he repeats as his hand comes up to hold your chin. He leans down, face to face with you as he continues headily, never taking his eyes off yours, “I’m gonna fuck you stupid. Right here. On this table,” he breathes each sentence before he finally takes your lips in his. It’s gentler than you expect as your eyes flutter shut and the sound of the entrance door closing behind the last patron signals that you’re alone now.
You sigh into his mouth before you pull him closer, the kiss growing more heated with each moment that passes.
You let Bucky ruck up your skirt as your hands fumble with his belt before you start working on his button and zipper. You stop him for just a second, grabbing his hand, “You rip ‘em, you buy ‘em,” you tell him, earning a grin from him.
“Deal,” he says before easily tearing your tights and turning you around, forcing you down against the table.
“No underwear, huh?” he taunts as he rips your tights even more, his thick fingers wasting no time in playing with your wetness on full display for him.
Your legs are spread as you moan at the delightful feeling of his fingers pushing into your sex, opening you up for him as he scissors his fingers inside your tight heat before curling them the way he knows you like.
“Fuck, Bucky, please,” you whine as you clutch onto the table, pushing your hips backs and trying to fuck yourself on his hand.
“Jesus, fuck, you’re perfect,” he swears before landing a stinging slap to your ass and pulling his fingers out. He quickly tugs down his jeans and frees himself from his boxers, his erection hot, heavy, and throbbing.
“Make me so fuckin’ hard, you know that?”
You only mewl in response as he runs the head of his cock through your folds, teasing you. He doesn’t have as much patience as he normally does, though. He’s been thinking of you nonstop since you left his apartment this morning. Been wanting you close again from the second you left his bed.
He knows this was just supposed to be a fun fling, but from the first time he kissed you, he knew he was done for. He knew he’d only want more.
And he was right.
He wanted all of it with you, not just sex. He wanted to spend his days cuddling you in his bed, watching movies, talking about nothing; hell, he even had to stop himself from texting you the other day to see if you were busy when he had to go get groceries because he wanted your company.
He was hooked on you completely.
But this “fling” was your idea and he didn’t want to run you off with the idea of commitment so soon. So for now, this would have to do. And who was he to complain about the nights he got to spend flirting with you, teasing you, taking you apart only to put you back together in his arms come morning.
He’s pulled from his thoughts as the head of his cock catches along your slick entrance, a hiss emanating from him as you gasp at the feeling.
He slowly lets himself push in, deeper and deeper until his hips are flush against your ass and he’s filling you completely.
Your soft moans urge him on as he begins to fuck you, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass filling the quiet of the empty bar. As he starts to thrust harder, the squelching noises of your fucking grow louder and louder as you moan without care, your hips hitting the edge of the table over and over with his every thrust.
His hands frame your waist as he holds you tight, rutting ever deeper inside of you, his cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly as you whine and gasp in pure pleasure, the coil in your belly tightening with each glide of his cock along your walls and every nudge against your g-spot. Bucky slips a hand down and finds your puffy clit, circling it as he feels you getting closer, your walls squeezing him tighter and tighter.
Your toes are curling in your shoes as your feet arch and slip against the floor when the muscles in your legs and core tighten and strain as your walls clench down on his thick cock and your orgasm hits you hard.
In the same instance, Bucky growls as the swinging of the entrance door sounds. You don’t even bother to look up as you’re lost in the euphoria of your high.
“We’re closed,” Bucky barks, his hips never faltering as he continues to fuck you while your eyes screw shut in overwhelming pleasure.
You vaguely hear a fumbling apology and the door closing once more as Bucky buries himself inside of you, leaning over your bent body and rutting into you as his groans and moans tumble heavily from his lips. With one more thrust, you sigh breathily as you feel him spill inside of you.
The weight of his body on top of yours is a comfort you can’t help but revel in as he holds you still and gets all of his release out, your velvety walls milking his cock as he fills you with his hot come.
He’s breathing heavily as he comes down from his orgasm and gently pulls his cock out of you. You instinctively press your legs together, your thick thighs making it easy. You push yourself up off the table after a moment and turn around, fixing your skirt as you do.
“Fuck,” you breathe under your breath happily. “Maybe lock the door next time?” you suggest playfully, “Or, at least turn the ‘OPEN’ light off.”
“Next time?” Bucky says with a raised brow and a smirk as he fixes his pants. “You like getting fucked in the bar that much?”
“Well, you did say something about fucking me stupid.. And not that that was bad at all, but, I’m not feeling very stupid right now.”
He licks his lips as he takes you in, taking your hands in his and tugging you close. “Why don’t you come home with me and I’ll get you there,” he says smoothly.
“That’d make it three nights in a row,” you say, a little unsure. “You sure you wanna risk it? I might not wanna leave.”
“I might not want you to,” he says, surprising you by how soft and sincere his voice is.
You meet his eye and swear you could drown in the glimmering blues as he smiles that schoolboy smile. You let out a shaky, nervous laugh.
“You fallin’ for me, Barnes?” you tease playfully - just a hint of hope laced in your tone.
He surprises you again as he takes hold of your chin, peering deep into your eyes, before he brushes his nose against your, his lips inches away from your own as you breath each other in for a second.
And then he kisses you.
Soft, yet firm and as you lose yourself in it, a deep yearning for Bucky that you’ve kept down from day one rears her head once more.
You part for a second to breathe before you crash your lips into his again, pulling him closer to you by the front of his shirt.
Your tongues glide against one another as he slips his in expertly before kissing you deeply.
He lets his forehead fall to yours as he parts from you.
You're breathless as he wears a nervous smile you’ve never seen on him before.
“Say I have. What are you gonna do about it?” he repeats your earlier taunt, trying to hide his anxiousness as he waits for you to respond.
You suck your lip as you consider him, biting back the smile threatening to take over your face.
“I’d tell you that, maybe, I’ve fallen for you, too,” you admit shyly, looking up to see his cocksure smile back in full force, just the way it always is.
“Then I’d tell you to take me back to your apartment,” you say, leaning into him for another sultry kiss. “So you can fuck me stupid,” you breathe against his lips, “as many times as you want.”
You nearly squeal as you're taken off your feet in the next second, Bucky’s strong arms holding you securely as you wrap your own around him.
“That I will happily comply with,” he says, kissing you hotly as you smile into it. You pull away just slightly to speak.
“We didn’t finish closing,” you laugh.
“Don't care,” he says, kissing you again as he easily walks to the bar, holding you with surprising ease that you aren’t sure you’ll ever get used to before he sets you down. “We can do it tomorrow,” he excuses, grabbing his keys from behind the bar and flicking the lights out. You grab your jacket and bag from the shelf you kept them on and follow behind Bucky as he locks the doors, escorting you out and to his car.
Before you get there, he turns on you, both of you stopping in your spots.
“We really doing this?” he asks, wanting to make sure this is really what you want, too.
You smile and nod.
“Yeah,” you whisper.
He lets himself smile in return.
“So I can call you mine, now?” he asks, grabbing your hand, pulling you to him.
“I’d be good with that.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“You sure? Cuz once we make this official, I’m gonna let everyone know. I might never shut up about it.”
You can’t help but laugh at how excited and proud he sounds. “I think I’m okay with that,” you smile up at him, meeting his lips in another kiss before he leads you to the car and opens the door for you to get in.
You know you’re okay with that. It’s what you’d been hoping for from the first time you’d kissed, for this to lead to something real, something more. Now here you were.
He wanted to officially call you his, and Bucky was finally, truly yours.
warnings: 18+ only. domestic violence. retelling of abuse and battery. minor character death mentioned. angst. sweet and protective bucky. fluff. not sure if this qualifies as a slow burn or not 👀. smut. there’s a happy ending! (as per usual)
last updated: 03/13/25
status: complete
part one
part two - (!!! tw: explicit dv, abuse, battery, and minor character death all from reader’s pov retelling of events !!!)
summary: who'd ever imagine that the big bad mob boss would be such a softie when it comes to a defiant flower shop owner
mob boss bucky barnes x fem flower shop owner reader
warnings: curse words, reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n (thats it I think?)
this is my first fic i'm actually putting on here and i'm scared icl
word count: 4.7k words
This shop was everything to you. You’d bought it just under a month ago, the old owner was more than happy to hand over the keys, something about having family in a different state. The walls that were once decorated in peeling wallpaper were now filled with flowers, arranged on different shelves.
Sure, it took a few weeks to fix up, but after only a few days, business was bustling. Old couples came in to pick some tulips to brighten their sitting rooms, teenagers picked bouquets of roses and lilies for their first dates, it was just as you’d imagined.
The area was lovely too, the owner of the bakery from the other side of the street was a frequent visitor. You quickly became friends, Wanda would often buy flowers from your store and set them on her counter, and you would always buy your lunch from her, bringing back pastries and cupcakes to eat in your quieter moments.
The only strange thing you’d noticed was the kid who seemed to linger out the front of your store. He couldn’t be more than nineteen, and he often paced out the front of the store, head down as he paced back and forth, as if rehearsing a speech. At first, you’d figured he must just be anxious, but as he returned for the fourth time, your concern grew.
Truth be told, everybody you’d met so far had been so kind, asking how you were, checking up on you. Wanda was always especially adamant about asking if you’d seen anybody suspicious during the day and messaging you on a night to make sure you’d locked all your doors and windows. You’d never bothered to mention the kid outside, he still looked like a baby really and didn’t seem as though he would cause any harm.
The fourth day he appeared outside was different though. As soon as you opened the shutters of the shop, he was on the other side of the street dressed in all black, leaning against a building as he looked down at his phone. He hadn’t been here this early before. In the first hour of the sign on your door reading ‘open’, he moved around, inching closer but still not close enough. That was until mid-day.
After waving off the last person from the store, you were free to sit down on the swivel chair in the corner and let your eyes rest just for a second. A car alarm had been going off all night about a street away from your apartment about the bakery meaning you hadn’t caught a wink of sleep. However, your moment of peace and quiet didn’t last long as the small bell you’d installed above the door rang out again.
You quickly stood up, placing a smile on your face as you turned, unable to see the visitor due to the arrangement you had in the middle of the store. You walked through the plants, frowning as you noticed a particularly droopy looking fressia. “Hello, are you looking for anything…” Your voice trailed off as you took in the visitor. The kid from outside, his hood now up as he pinched at his fingers. “...in particular?”
He looked up, hand going to lower his hood before seemingly second guessing the action and lowering his hand so it now hovered awkwardly by his head. “Erm, I’m P- wait no, I’m not supposed to introduce myself.” You frowned as he muttered, scrunching his face. “I’m here on behalf of the Barnes family. We’re aware you recently moved to the area and we’re… we offer, uhm, we offer protection for a price.” His voice got progressively quieter the more he talked.
“I’m sorry, who are the Barnes family, do they need flowers for something?” You questioned, eyebrows hunched together as the kid groaned.
“No, no it’s, we’re like, has nobody really told you about this? You’ve been here a few weeks now and-” He stopped seeing as you shrugged and he seemed to say "Bad things happen to people who don’t pay us, okay?”
“But why am I paying you?”
“For protection.” He reiterated.
“Protection from whom?” You asked, fiddling with the corner of your cardigan sleeve.
“Us and them, the other mobs, mostly the other guys, well sort of, sometimes the boss-”
“You’re in a mob?” You cut him off mid sentence as you took him in. His hands were now awkwardly stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie, eyes wide as he looked at you. “How old are you? Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”
His face flushed pink as he yanked his hood down, “No, we… this is my first job and I’m supposed to collect the first amount today, and if I don’t then I don’t-”
You sighed, picking up an arrangement from the left of you and placing the pot in his hands, pausing his rambling. “Look, I’m not paying you anything. Take the flowers, they’re on the house I guess, I can protect myself, kid.” You smiled sincerely as you placed your hands on his shoulders ,which had hunched up towards his head, and led him out of the shop. “Have a nice day!” You said cheerily as he landed on the pavement, blinking in confusion as you waved and let the blue door shut.
You took a deep breath in as you flipped the small sign in the glass window around to show you were closed before shaking your head. You distracted yourself from the fact you apparently needed protection by clipping the fressia from before, reopening the store half an hour later.
Wanda found herself in your shop as you were both closing up that night, a bag of leftovers in her hand as she opened the door, meeting you with a smile. “Where were you today?” She questioned, placing the bag down on the countertop. “You haven’t found somewhere better for lunch have you?”
You appeared from the back quickly, a smile forming at the smell of the baked goods. “Of course not, just had a weird… thing happen over lunch.”
Her ever present grin dropped at that, “Oh yeah, who was it?” She asked cautiously, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear.
After rifling through the bag to find a cookie, you glanced up at her, “Somebody about protection or something like that.” You quickly dismissed it with a shake of your head, but Wanda continued to watch you carefully.
“You agreed, right?”
You screwed up your face at her, taking a bite from one of the cookies, “No, obviously not, I can protect myself.” Her mouth fell open as you groaned at the baked goods. “This is so good, Wan!”
“Uh uh.” She shook her head, glancing out the window as she said your name once over, “You can’t protect yourself from these people, the last dude that owned this place missed out on two payments so he sold this place to pay it off and left as quick as possible.”
“Well, these people haven’t met me yet, and I’m not paying them shit.” She sighed again, taking the bag off the counter and turning towards the door, “Hey, where’re you going?”
“You’re staying at mine tonight.” She declared. “Close up the shop and lock everything, I mean it.”
[⭐]
“I’m so sorry Mr Barnes, I don’t even know what happened, I just, she gave me the flowers and I-”
Peter stood in the centre of the room, eyes wide and frantic as he obviously feared getting into trouble with his boss. After all, Bucky Barnes wasn’t somebody you wanted to dislike you.
In fact, Bucky Barnes wasn’t somebody most wanted to be associated with. He was feared by most, including most of his people. He was known for being ruthless and cold blooded, a job was a job in his eyes.
Which is what made Peter so twitchy, this was his first time going on a mission and even though he wasn’t necessarily sure about what to do or how to intimidate people, it seemed he’d drawn the short stick and had been handed with a defiant mission. People who went against Barnes’ orders didn’t usually end up in a good condition, sometimes there wasn’t a condition at all.
“Peter.” He shut up quickly as Bucky said his name, fingers massaging his temple. “So she just… gave you flowers and you left?” His voice drawled around the empty room as he leant back into his chair. His frown was deep, people didn’t usually say no to this sort of thing, and whether he could pin it on Peter’s age or this woman’s sheer pride, he couldn’t tell.
“Well, she put her hands on my shoulders and like, walked me out of there?” Peter questioned his own words as his head tilted, “She told me she wouldn’t pay us but the flowers were on the house, so, there’s that.”
Steve couldn’t hold in a chuckle as he looked to Bucky, “I can go down tomorrow if you want.” He offered, white teeth flashing in a smile. Steve was the only person Bucky trusted- really trusted. This had all been passed down to him, this life had all been in his family for generations, but Steve didn’t know that when they were children, neither of them had any idea what his father was up to, and more importantly, Steve had no idea who Bucky would become.
Their friendship was genuine, something that had become a rarity as time went on and they grew up.
He shook his head, taking a sip of amber from the glass, “I’ll handle it.”
“Buck,” Steve started, raising his eyebrows, “I don’t think-”
“It’s been quiet, and I’m getting bored of sitting in this room all day. It’ll do some good for me.” He downed the rest of his drink as Steve nodded, Peter still stood, hands fidgeting. “Peter, go home, get some rest. I’m going to partner you with someone more senior next time. Maybe Stark?” He mumbled the last part to himself as Peter opened the mahogany doors and made himself scarce.
Bucky lent across the table, sliding the photo of your shop into his view as he squinted, seeing your figure through the window, standing with a customer, holding up a bouquet. He flipped it over, tracing the information for your name, running it over his tongue once.
“I don’t think she’ll agree easily.” Steve stated, eyes flickering over your picture, “Sounded pretty stubborn according to Peter.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, standing up from his chair. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”
[⭐]
Wanda was reluctant to even let you leave her apartment that morning, let alone go across the street, but you’d quickly reassured her that you would be fine. In fact, you’d be more than fine, the bat by your desk and nine years of karate weren't for nothing after all.
It had been a normal day, sweet customers, one angry woman who found flowers from your shop her husband had bought for his side piece, the usual, and no sight of the kid. Wanda came to check on you every hour, leaving her brother, Pietro, in charge of the tills, even though he mostly just flirted with the customers in her absence.
But seemingly, trouble had latched itself onto your door and by the time three o’clock struck, disaster came calling. You first noticed something was happening when the couple you were talking to exited the shop, stopping your conversation. Then, the others all filtered out with wide eyes until it was just you and a single other man in the shop.
His hair was combed back, jacket thrown over a button up shirt left unbuttoned at the top. As you approached him, he fiddled with an alstroemeria between his thumb and forefinger. The door shut as the last customer shut it behind them.
He turned to face you with a smirk, faltering slightly as he took in your appearance, the flower in between his thumb and forefinger pausing as he looked you up and down. You looked backwards towards the door, exasperated at the sudden abandonment of your shop. “Hi there, is there anything I can help you with, Sir?” You asked with a wary smile, eyes flickering to where you know you kept your bat.
He was a handsome man, you’d be blind not to notice that, in fact, as your eyes met his steel blue ones, you felt your breath escape you for a second. His voice was deep as he said your name, never tearing his eyes from yours, “You have a lovely place here.”
“Thank you.” You smiled, feeling yourself relax a little as a smile clawed at the corner of his lips. “It’s still new, but it’s going good so far.” He hummed, staring intently at your face as you shifted on your feet, face flushing at the attention. “Is there anything that’s caught your eye?”
He blinked twice quickly, the hint of a smile playing at his lips quickly dropping, “I’m not here about the flowers, sugar.”
Your heart fluttered at the pet name before frowning, processing his words. “If you're here about the kid yesterday, I’m going to tell you the exact same thing, I’m afraid.” You pursed your lips, “I can look after myself.”
“I don’t think you really understand.” He said, taking a step closer.
“I think I do, and if that’s all you're here for, I suggest you leave quickly.”
He looked down at you, watching as your breath hitched at the proximity, “There are bad things that happen around here, bad people that do bad things. All you have to do is pay me and I make sure you're safe, doll. That’s how it works around here.”
His head bent down as you looked up at him, swallowing and holding your nerve, “What, you gonna hurt me?”
He frowned at that, something that you didn’t fully expect after what the kid had said yesterday. You were expecting a laugh or something, not for his forehead to crease and eyebrows to pull together. “No, no. Couldn’t ruin a pretty face like that.” He seemed to catch himself as he stared at your lips, raising his head and taking a step back, face returning to a neutral expression as you could see the cogs turning in his head.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m still not going to pay you.”
The bell on the door rang as Wanda’s voice rang out, “You all-”
You turned around to see Wanda stood, a foot in the door as she stared at the two of you, eyes narrowed at the man in front of you.
He looked between you and Wanda, tongue in cheek before stepping further away from you, still clutching the flower as he made his way out the door, Wanda side-stepped out of his way as he looked at the flower, glancing back at you in the doorway. “Be careful.”
His voice held a sort of sincerity you weren’t expecting, a warning but not necessarily meant towards him. The door shut as Wanda quickly hurried over to you, “Shit, holy fucking shit, please tell me you agreed to pay them.”
You frowned as he disappeared from your sight through the window before looking back to Wanda, “Huh?”
She cursed under her breath once more, “That was Bucky Barnes, you know that right?” Your eyes squinted in recognition at the surname. “That’s the guy you're supposed to be paying, and he did a home visit, he doesn’t do that. He has people to do that for him, Jesus Christ, please tell me you just nodded along.”
You shook your head, letting out a shocked laugh, “No, I said the same thing as yesterday. I won’t be bullied into paying him, no Wanda!” She groaned loudly as your speech, hand resting on the top of her hair, “He didn’t seem, I don’t know, threatening or whatever.”
Wanda quickly studied your face, hands resting on your shoulders, “Nope, that is a mob boss, we are not doing the whole cutesy blushing over a man in a suit.” She gently shook your shoulders as you laughed.
“I’m not doing that.” You shook your head with a smile, picking a flower from that morning’s delivery that you hadn’t had a chance to sort through yet and placing it in her hair, smiling as she gave you a knowing look.
It was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous how you just couldn’t stop thinking about that goddamn flower, or more importantly, how it looked in between his fingers. How the bright colours offset his dark suit, the grin on his lips as he looked at you with the sort of intensity that made your stomach feel like it was on the verge of erupting. And his eyes, oh the eyes spoke for themselves. Every movement, every thought could be seen just by the smallest of movements.
He had perfect eyes, you thought.
You blinked at the sound of Wanda’s voice, snapping from your gaze as she stood at the door, “I have to get back before Pietro offers to take somebody else on a ‘private tour’ around the bakery.” She rolled her eyes as you could just make out her brother through the window, staring at a woman intently as he leant up against the counter, arms crossed.
“Have fun!” You teased as you watched her walk across the street, wrapping her long, multicoloured cardigan around her body.
You couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to him and the way his voice sounded and the way he walked and the way he looked- everything about him, truthfully. Every time you heard the bell chime, a part of you hoped it would be him, even if that probably didn’t mean anything remotely good.
Instead, you helped a woman -Natasha - pick out some flowers for her sister, who’d just moved into a new apartment somewhere downtown, and a girl named Kate who’d broken something or other valuable of her mother’s and thought flowers might soften the blow. And who could forget your favourite customer, Stan, an elderly man who came in mostly just for a chat, but also to pick out his own flowers and have her arrange them as they talked over a tub of biscuits.
But none of them could fully distract you, not even when Wanda forced you to sleep over at hers, or her and Pietro’s constant bickering over what TV show they should watch, even though they both know he’d give in eventually and agree to whatever Wanda wanted. And especially not as you lied on a mattress in Wanda’s room, her soft breathing the only sound that filled the room as your imagination went wild, your mind filling with what you would do or say if he appeared on your doorstep the next morning, or even right now, and what if he was wearing a giant croissant costume, and what if he had a pet iguana named Tom, and what if Tom could talk…
Eventually, you drifted off with the promise of Bucky Barnes showing up at your shop’s door dressed in all manner of strange costumes with a whole gang of talking animal sidekicks.
Yet, when you exited the bakery the next morning and found an all too familiar looking man standing outside, glancing at his watch every few seconds, you were all but too sure that he could show up in a tracksuit and cap and your stomach would still make the strange fluttery feeling. It didn’t really matter about his costume or masses of talking pets, your excitement seemed to rest in seeing him.
“The shop doesn’t open for another half an hour, Mr Barnes.” You said as you walked across the street, feeling for your keys in your pocket.
His head raised at the sound of your voice, a wide smile adorning his features, saying your name like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. “You sure you can’t let me in a smidge early.” He held his fingers up, pinching them fairly close together as you paused opening the door.
“That depends, are you here to buy flowers or here to tell me to pay you?” You questioned, letting your keychain rattle against the door. He felt closer than he actually was as you let your tongue run over your tongue.
He seemed to smirk at your question, tilting his head so you could see him from the corner of your eye, looking you up and down once, “Well, what if I just wanted to come see you?” He asked, shifting on his feet as he let his hands bury themselves in his pockets, eyes never straying from the side of your face.
“And why would you wanna do that?” You challenged, keeping your face forward as he neared your ear, trying to keep your smile at bay and breaths even. He was supposed to be the big bad wolf, so why couldn’t he stop making your heart beat faster than a race car?
It wasn’t even as if he was your type. Back home, you’d dated the perfect jock, high school football team captain, straight A student and hair reminiscent of the sun. That was until he broke your heart into a million pieces and you’d sworn off men after graduation and after years of saving, you’d finally moved here. Yet here you were, feeling as though his stare could make you melt into a puddle.
“Maybe because I couldn’t keep your pretty face out of my dreams.” He smiled, lips close to your ear as his warm breath fanned your face, the cool temperature finally catching up to you as you tugged on the sleeves of your jacket and unlocked the door with a twist of your keys.
“We open in half an hour Mr Barnes.” You giggle as you slip inside, watching through the window as his mouth formed a small circle before licking his lips and waving at you through the glass as you shut the blinds, disappearing around the arrangements and resting your arms on the desk.
Breathe, you repeat to yourself, it’s not as if the guy you only met yesterday just tried to flirt with you. And it’s not as if he’s currently standing outside.
Oh you were screwed.
By the time it came to opening, you opened the blinds, finding him leant against the wall beside the window outside, looking down at his watch again. He turned to you almost immediately, tugging down his sleeve as you flipped the sign over, signalling you were open as he pretended to queue in front of the door, rocking back and forth on his feet as you opened the door with a grin.
“You’re thirty-two seconds late, doll.” He smirked, biting his bottom lip as you moved to one side to let him in. He thanked you politely as he stepped in, inhaling deeply as you watched him expectantly, the door shutting. “I do have a bone to pick with you.”
He leant up against the wall as you swallowed thickly. Truth be told, your pride wasn;t the only reason you were against paying him, between bills and running the shop, after your first week, you weren’t exactly in a position to be giving anybody anything.
“It’s not about money, don’t you worry about that.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand, shaking his head as he saw your worried expression. “You’ve picked up a nasty habit of calling me Mr Barnes.” He said the name mockingly, pushing off the wall and taking a step closer to you.
You struggled to hide your surprise. Wanda had definitely said Bucky Barnes, that had been his name, you were sure of it. “My friend Wanda said that you-”
“Well, your friend Wanda isn’t you.” He said, placing his hand on your shoulder, his fingers going to the collar of your t-shirt and fiddling with the hem, “You call me Bucky.”
You were lost for words as you took in the name. You absentmindedly leant into his touch on your shoulder. He hummed in response, letting his thumb run over your shoulder. “That seems awfully informal for a man who was attempting to get me to pay him yesterday.”
He paused, absorbing your words, seemingly surprised by your response. “I like that about you.” Bucky stated, hand pausing as he attempted to find your eyes which still avoided his, instead tracing over the shelves behind him. “You’re not afraid to speak your mind, but I guess it makes it better when you have a voice as sweet as yours.”
You look down, lips struggling not to grin widely at his flirty comments, instead you bite the inside of your cheek before glancing back up at him. “So you’re not here to try and sweet talk me into paying you?”
He chuckled at that, and god was his laugh something you’d try to commit to memory. “That’s what my people think I’m here to do.”
“Well, what do you think you’re here to do?” You were careful to keep your voice levelled.
“I think I’m here to see a beautiful flower shop owner-” His voice trailed off as the doorbell chimed and you took a step back seeing the girl from yesterday, Kate, walk in. Your body missed his hand on your shoulder instantly, but you forced your legs to move anyway, rounding the corner to see her in a long purple coat.
“I’m gonna need more flowers.” She stated with a sigh as you laughed softly at her annoyed expression. You showed her to a small section, spotting Bucky watching you intently from the corner behind Kate.
He was holding two bouquets of flowers, one in each hand as they nearly covered his face. You shook your head, telling Kate you’d be back in a minute before wandering over to his side. “Are you using them to hide behind or are you making a purchase?” You questioned with a light laugh seeing his chin poke up between the two.
“I’m making a purchase, doll. Thought these would brighten up my kitchen nicely.” He exclaimed with a smile, walking over to your desk with the till on it.
“Aren’t you supposed to be collecting my money, not giving me it?” You asked hesitantly as he put the flowers down on the desk and rummaged through his pocket for a wallet before holding his hand full of far too much cash out to you. It was more than enough for the two bouquets, probably more than enough for ten, and as much as you weren’t one for turning down generous amounts, this all felt a little too good to be true.
“What did I say earlier, sugar, you don’t need to worry about that money thing, I’ll take care of it, on one condition.” He added the last part in a whisper as you took the money and put it in the till, leaning against the counter with a small smile on your face.
“And what’s that, Mr Barnes?” You asked, squinting playfully at him as he picked up the colourful bouquets.
“You have to call me Bucky.”
You laughed, standing up from the counter, “Okay then, Bucky.”
His head leant backwards as you said his name, scrunching his nose as he grinned, “You say it like that and I might just have to come back.”
You walked towards the door with him, silently offering to carry one of the bouquets as you outstretched your hands, but he quickly shook his head and insisted he could do it himself until you finally got to the door, holding it open so he could exit. “Whatever you say, Bucky.”
His grin was impossibly wide as he turned backwards on the sidewalk, parting the flowers as much as possible to spot you through the masses of colours. “I’ll see you soon, doll.” He said, turning around and walking back down the street. He looked quite the sight, carrying the abundances of flowers down the path until you couldn’t spot him anymore, leaving you wondering how exactly he was going to get anywhere if he had to carry them all the way.
You let the door shut as you shook your head to yourself. “Who was that?” Kate asked curiously, wiggling her eyebrows as you grinned, hand tracing over your shoulder where his had been moments ago.
prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
collection masterlist: Clingy Baby
word count: 5.1k+
note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.
warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.
Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.
You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.
Rooted.
But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.
You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.
This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.
You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?
Curiosity, indeed.
Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...
"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."
"And the jalapeños?"
"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."
"Cream cheese?"
"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."
Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."
"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"
"Lemme pick you up."
"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."
He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"
"Let's do a white tonight, please."
"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "
"Hang on," you pleaded.
"What's wrong?"
"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"
"We haven't been to Paris in months."
You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."
Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."
"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"
"So, is that a yes?"
"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"
"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"
"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."
"I'll bring the camera."
"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"
"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.
"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"
"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"
There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "
"It's 15," he growled.
"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."
"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "
"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."
"Don't hurt her - "
"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."
The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.
He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).
For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.
"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."
You sniffled, unable to respond.
He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"
You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."
The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."
"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."
"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."
You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.
At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.
"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.
"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"
You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.
Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.
And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.
You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.
Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.
Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.
So now... To hear this... You were devastated.
You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.
You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.
"She's different, man."
"How so?" Sam wondered.
"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "
"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.
"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."
"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.
"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."
"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."
"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"
Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"
"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."
"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."
"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.
"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."
"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."
"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"
There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.
So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."
"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"
You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.
"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.
"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"
"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."
"Peach - "
"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.
"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"
"Sure."
Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"
You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.
Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest.
Got shopping done on Amazon.
Browsed through Target's online selection.
Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade.
Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.
Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?
You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"
"Out with Nat," you eased.
He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"
"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."
His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."
"I know."
"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.
And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.
When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."
The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.
You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.
Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.
Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.
Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.
After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.
"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.
"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.
"What?"
"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"
"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."
"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"
"About...?"
"Me."
"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."
Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.
"Huh?" Nat wondered.
"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.
"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."
Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"
"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"
"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."
"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.
"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."
"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."
"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."
"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."
"They can take it."
"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"
"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.
"Bucky," she growled.
He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."
"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."
"Why lie, then?"
"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."
"No shit."
"Well, did you get into a fight?"
"No."
"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"
He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."
"You had to do something."
"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."
Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"
Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."
"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."
"I didn't mean - "
"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."
Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"
"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"
Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.
The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.
Clingy...
You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...
His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.
When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"
You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.
He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."
"I'm here."
"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.
"What's wrong?"
"You. You're what's wrong."
"What the fuck does that - "
"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."
You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.
"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "
"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."
"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."
You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "
"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."
You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."
"It's not."
"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."
He nodded, "What else can I do?"
"Nothing - "
"Peach."
You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"
"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.
"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"
"All right... Sure, okay..."
"And face masks."
He sighed, "Okay."
"And mani-pedis."
"Baby."
"You said you were making it up to me, right?"
He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."
"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."
"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."
"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."
"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."
You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.
Felt okay.
Appeared okay.
And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.
Headcanon:
Steve doing little acts of service… meaning he’d give people working at the Avengers Tower who are jerks a taste of their own medicine in almost innocent ways. And maybe entertaining you, the girl he had an eye on for a while, in the process.
When you’re the one bullied though… there’s no innocent way. That man is going to pay.
Warnings: brief violence and death threat, language, men being lying idiots (no offense), Steve being the biggest sweetheart and little shit you don’t wanna mess with
A/N: There’s one gif from Arrow, not Steve, but exactly what I have in mind 🤭
Summary:
Being a SHIELD recruit was a dream come true, especially with people like Sergeant Barnes or Captain Rogers offering an input to your class’ training.
It was also hard work for many different reasons. One of them being all those guys around; not all of them were exactly fit to become heroes, simply because they were not good people.
Maybe you shouldn’t have pointed it out so openly though. Then again, what would the world turn into if you kept your mouth shut when feeling like speaking up?
WARNINGS: so-so graphic description of assault almost turned sexual, violence and a bit of blood, boys being boys in a real bad way, language
A/N: Steve Rogers vs assholes, round 2. Also, ‘you’ vs. assholes. And Bucky in the mix.
A/N: This was originally posted as a miniseries on AO3, but now edited, I decided to thrown it in as a long, sort-of three part one-shot. Enjoy and mind the warnings.
(gif source dailymcugifs, divider by firefly-graphics)
Summary:
Kissing under the mistletoe is one of the most famous Christmas traditions; so obviously, it is not Christmas without it at the Tower.
Unfortunately for the occupants, you are not fond of the tradition – at all.
…or are you?
Warnings: cliché trope, pushy Pietro, discussion of dub-con I guess, language, fluff
A/N: Idea born from this video where John Mulaney says: “If any decoration needs to be MeToo’ed…” and goes on.
Beatiful divider by firefly-graphics
1.
You were no Grinch.
In fact, you actually liked Christmas and the Holiday season, you enjoyed both giving and receiving and you appreciated when people found time to spend it together, whether in their own family circle or with their chosen one.
But. There was one significant ‘but’.
And with this being your first Christmas with the Avengers, Sam Wilson was about to learn about the said but first-hand, because that sweet kind-hearted dumbass with a sass streak walked right into it.
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