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Nika Samarina

beefybuffybucky

The Chain (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: angst - language - some fluff

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: After being apart from Bucky for some time, you agree to talk things out with him. But will you let him back into your life, or will you shut him out completely? (You can find Pt. 1 on my blog tagged under #my fics)

A/N: Thank you all so much for the feedback on my first fic! A few of you asked for a second part, so here it is! If you’d like, send me some requests or prompts, and feel free to leave some feedback for me!

The atmosphere in the coffee shop is warm and inviting. The tables are packed and baristas move swiftly behind the counter, trying to keep up with the endless amount of drink orders. After ordering a large latte, you give the barista your name and walk away from the counter, the sound of a machine finely grinding espresso and steamers warming milk circling around the air. Loud chatter dances around you, and you finally spot a small open table across the room, nestled in the corner by a large window.

The table stands tall and has raised stools accompanying it. Settling on the stool sitting across from the wall, you dig your phone out of a small pocket in your bag and then tuck it into the small space under the legs of the stool after placing your phone on the table. You take a deep breath, inhaling scents that remind you of fall and the cool autumn breeze. It was nearing the end of September, and with each passing day, the days shortened and the nights extended their reign over the day. You sport a large, comfy scarf, a long sleeve maroon shirt, a black skirt paired with tights and a pair of black combat boots. You thought you could brave the cold in the skirt, but you realized as soon as you stepped outside of your apartment building that you were wrong.

You hear your name being called out above the sea of chatter, light music, and espresso machines, and carefully slide off of your high seat. Walking up to the counter, you thank the barista with a smile and she hurriedly turns away to finish making another drink.

Striding over to your spot, you carefully set the large ceramic mug on the table, the contents of the mug threatening to slosh over the edge at any moment. You push yourself up onto the stool, your feet dangling above the ground, and delicately lift the mug to your lips. Taking a sip, the hot liquid burns your tongue, and you carefully lower your drink. You look at your phone and see one new message notification. Unlocking your phone, Bucky’s contact pops up.

Where are you?

You swallow hard. By the window, in the corner, you type hesitantly.

When Steve had asked you a few days ago if you would agree to speak with Bucky, you reluctantly agreed. The way things ended between you two sent you flying into a frenzy of heartbreak and sorrow. You locked yourself in your room for days, refusing to return to reality and facing the pain of walking out into an empty apartment. Bucky’s absence left a gaping hole in your life, even though he was the one thing that made your life worth living when nothing else did. At the time, you thought it was a great idea to talk with him - you were completely torn between being so desperate to have him back in your life or trying to forget him. But now that the time was here, it took everything in you to not bolt out the door. You swing one ankle over the other to stop your leg from fidgeting and hook the top of your foot behind the bar in the middle of the stool.

“Hey,” a soft, low voice hums. You look up from your phone to see Bucky standing next to you. A soft, barely-there smile plays at his lips. His hair is pulled into a low, loose bun with a few strands dangling against the side of his face. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and a white t-shirt, dark jeans, and light tan boots. Visible bags from a lack of sleep hang below his eyes, and his beard was a bit rougher than usual.

“H-hey, did you uh, order anything?” You choke out.

“Yeah, just a black coffee,” he says gently as he pulls out the other stool and slides into the seat. Even when he’s sitting, it feels like he towers over you.

“David,” a barista calls out above the commotion of the shop.

“Well, that’s me,” Bucky easily slides off his seat and walks up to the counter. David? You chuckle to yourself. You watch as he grabs a mug from the barista, smiling as his mouth forms a “Thank you”.

He walks back over, taking a sip from his coffee and placing it on the table, then settles into the stool again.

“So David, huh?” A light chuckle escapes your lips.

“I was worried about drawing attention if I used ‘Bucky’,” he grins. Bucky can be such a dork sometimes, but he also had a point. With a guy as attractive as him, he gains enough attention as it is. Throw in his name, and it was sure to cause some sort of spontaneous mob of people trying to talk to and get pictures with Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier.

“So…how are you?” He asks with a concerned tone.

“Could be better,” you mumble. “You?” Bucky looks out the window, gazing at something you couldn’t see.

“Things could definitely be better,” he sighs and casts his gaze downwards. Steam rolls of the surface of his black coffee and into the shop air. Neither of you says anything for a few awkward moments. You pick up your mug.

“How long?” Your words are firm, unwavering. Bucky leans slightly over the table, supporting himself by placing his forearms on the smooth black table top. His arms are long enough to reach more than halfway across the table, holding the mug of coffee between his rough hands - his metal arm was masked by a sort of technological sleeve Tony had made for him awhile ago that mimics the look of skin, disguising the vibranium. He only wears it when he feels overwhelmed and needs a sense of normalcy.

The inches of distance between you two is the closest you’ve been to him in at least two weeks. A flick of desire to reach out to him and take his hands in yours and beg for him to come home burns in your chest, prompting you to tightly cross your arms. Your chin sinks into your large scarf, and you wish none of this ever happened in the first place. A part of you screams to take him back, but another part continuously begs you to not let him worm his way into your life again so easily.

“What do you -,” Bucky closes his mouth as he processes your question.

His eyes drag up from the coffee in his hands to your face. His brows were knit together in worry, and you could see some tears beginning to well in the corner of his eyes. He looks away again, out the window that your table has been pushed against. Quickly, he purses his lips and runs his tongue along his bottom lip before biting it.

“Three -,” his voice breaks and his head dips. Your heart feels as if it’s dangling by a single thread, and at any moment, the Fates would snip at the frail lifeline with razor sharp tools, sending your world into a never-ending, downward spiral of Hell and heartbreak once again. Bucky brings a closed fist to his mouth and clears his throat, then lowers his arm, slowly rubbing the side of the mug with his thumb.

“Three months,” his whispers.

Snip.

“Three…three months?” Your voice trembles in disbelief. Contrary to your former belief, that time frame was much, much longer. That was three months of him sneaking around your back, hooking up with other girls. Three months of you spending sleepless nights worrying about him while he was away on missions, but in reality, who knows how many “missions” he really went on.

Gradually, the surroundings of the bustling coffee shop fade away into nothingness. The commotion and chatter of people that mix with the sounds of espresso machines transitions into one solid, buzzing noise. Your peripheral vision blurs, leaving only Bucky in your line of sight.

It’s you, Bucky, and the unspoken truth between you. It feels so quiet in the room that you could hear a pin drop and bounce on the tile floor.

“What - I mean, w-why…,” your thoughts trail off into silence. Your mouth hangs slightly open, and your brain moves at a million miles per hour trying to reprocess what he had done to you and what you should say to him. You want to scream at him, but can barely find air to simply breathe.

“There’s nothing I want more in the world than to be able to take it all fucking back,” Bucky sniffles, suddenly bringing you out of your daze. Your attention snaps to him. His gray eyes are lightly rimmed with a delicate red. “I-I don’t know why it even started in the first place, I just…,” his voice stalls as he promptly sits up, leaning against the wall behind him as he drags a hand down his face. His nose scrunches when he sniffles.

“Do you know what this did to me?” Your voice a barely audible whisper. “What your actions did to me?” It feels like stones are pulling on your body, preventing you from making a run for it. A wave of anger shoots through your body as searing tears begin to gather in your eyes. Bucky’s focus shifts intensely to you.

“I didn’t sleep…Or eat…O-or even leave our -,” your breath lodges in your throat. “M-my fucking room for almost a damn week...all because of you, James,” you spat at him. He cringes at your use of his name, and it feels as if your jaw has been welded shut. A few tears escape and slowly cascade down your face. Your breathing is shaky, and your lungs feel like they’re being squeezed. “You destroyed my life,” your violent whisper hisses through your teeth as you lean over the table. You’re so close to him now, you were sure he could hear your heart beating erratically from your pent-up anger. “I trusted you with all my damn heart, and you suddenly decided that it didn’t matter? Do you even know what it feels like? W-what it feels like to lose -,”

“Everything? Yeah, I do. I lost you, Y/N,” Bucky’s gaze remains unmoving from yours. The air around you lays heavy and claustrophobic. “I’m just…I’m so, so insanely sorry. You have no clue how fucking sorry I am,” he faintly whispers.

A prick of desperation jolts you. An increasingly large part of you craves to have him back - back in your arms, back in your bed, back in your life - but there’s still a part of you that continues to remind yourself that what he did should be unforgivable and that he’s never to be trusted again. You’ve been through this before, and you know that second chances rarely ever work out.

But…what if this one did?

“I know,” you manage calmly. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and feel your heart rate slow down. “You hurt me, Bucky,” the quiver in your voice sends a shiver down your body. Bucky sits up in his seat, covering his face with his hands. A few moments pass before he drops his hands into his lap.

“Is there anything I could possibly do to make this better?” He questions with a tilt of his head. A trace of burning desperation laced itself into his wavering voice. You gaze drops to your latte and bring it to your lips, taking another sip of the bitter drink. What you wouldn’t give for this to be liquor right now.

“You know I don’t give second chances,” you quietly state as you lower your drink. Raising your gaze, you watch as Bucky purses his lips, nodding. A tear silently slides down his face, getting lost in his beard.

“That’s…understandable,” he whispers unevenly. He draws in a shaky breath and starts to rise. “Well, uh…thank you for agreeing to talk any-”

“But for you, I’d make an exception,” you cut him off. Bucky blinks at you and slides back onto his stool. “For the past few years I’ve known you, I’ve built my life around you. What you did was so insanely stupid, idiotic, and sure as hell reckless, but I think we can…rebuild.”

Bucky says nothing and continues to stare at you, absorbing your words. You shift in your seat and breathe in an uneven breath through your mouth. A chill roams your body as you realize what you had just admitted. The excitement begins to build in you as you realize that this second chance was your ticket to being able to live again.

As long as you’ve known him, Bucky Barnes has always been the one that’s talked you through anxiety attacks, came to your rescue when random people would try and hook-up with you at bars, and was the person that offered to walk you home at night when you didn’t want to be alone. You have countless memories with him, ranging from hardcore jam session on an evening drive to pranking other members of the Avengers when you would visit the compound.

He was your world, and nothing could change that.

Bucky takes in a quick, sharp breath.

“A-are you being serious?” His face transitions into a look of pure hope and desperation. You reach across the table and place your hand on top of his, giving his a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, I am,” you assure him as a small, sincere smile blossoms on your face. Bucky’s eyes light up as he smiles.

“Thank you, I-I don’t really know wh-what to say I’m just so -,” he stops as another tear threatens to spill over. “Thank you,” he whispers with excitement and a hint of disbelief.

“If you ever, ever do anything like this again, I will kill you myself,” you warn him.

“Understood,” he chuckles as another smile slowly spreads across your face. “But I have a feeling Steve may beat you to the punch.”

Tags: @dcandmarvelimagines @buckyisloved @isaxhorror @awinterloveuniverse @hollycornish

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine

queermarvelfan

On, Wisconsin! (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: Hey kids! This is my first fic, and there will be a second part. Please feel free to leave any sort of feedback (I’ve never written anything like this before so any and all feedback would help tremendously)!

Summary: You’re assigned to go on a mission with just the man you’ve been trying to avoid catching feelings for: Bucky Barnes. Nothing can predict what will happen during a mission to your home state. It doesn’t help that you two have to pretend to be a couple.

Warnings: There’s like two swears - just fluff and semi-flirty Bucky.

Word Count: Almost 1.3K

Wisconsin has always held a special place in your heart. When you were told during the mission briefing that you would be sent to Wisconsin to track some possible HYRDA activity, childhood memories flooded your vision. You had grown up in a small town in the southern part of the state in the middle of the country. Halfway through a memory of your favorite trip up north, you were snapped out of your trance by Tony saying your name. You blinked and looked around, being met by the stares of not only Tony, but Steve and Bucky, too.

“Y/N? You still with us,” Tony asked. You could feel the annoyance in his stare.

“Yeah, sorry, just making some mental notes,” you managed.

Steve and Tony turned their attention back to whatever map or chart or whatever they were rambling on about. Bucky cleared his throat from across the table and you shot him a quick side glance. He always loved to tease you, especially when you were flustered.

Ever since you joined the team, you and Bucky have had a certain connection. It was purely flirtatious and fun, with a hint of danger. Lately, you to have been growing close - closer than you’ve let yourself get to anyone in a long time, and you still haven’t decided if it was a good thing or not. At this moment, you chose it probably wasn’t a good thing. You’d rather spend time prepping for your mission rather than letting yourself be overcome with your thoughts and fantasies of Bucky.

A sly smirk slowly crept up the right side of his face. You looked down at your mug of coffee and notepad. A small, folded piece of paper had appeared on top of one of your doodles. You quickly glanced at Bucky, then delicately grabbed the note and opened it.

Ready for some fun? You crumpled the small note.

It was obvious Bucky wrote the note, being especially evident from his horrible handwriting. Even Steve had better handwriting.

You look back up at Tony and Steve, attempting to divert my eyes for Bucky’s sly glances.

“You’ll head out tomorrow. Your location and other mission information are in these folders,” Tony explained as he dealt out the two manilla folders. “Y/N and Bucky, you guys will be heading out tomorrow morning, bright and early, to catch your flight. Try not to forget to use your new aliases and at least attempt to play up your roles as a couple.” Wait, what? He turned to head out of the meeting room, then looked back over his shoulder before making his final exit. “Oh, and try not to keep at least somewhat professional.” Steve blinked and gently shook his head, then cleared his throat. Without saying anything, he got up and trailed Tony out of the room and into the corridor that led to the elevator. Great. Now I’m stuck with Bucky…by myself.

You could feel heat beginning to rise in your face. Bucky let out a low chuckle that gradually turned into a yawn, and shifted in his chair to look at you, stretching his arms above his head. You watch as the muscles beneath his shirt twisted, begging for freedom against his sleeves. His shirt lifted just enough to reveal his navel and his hardened stomach. You also caught a little glimpse of a treasure trail. Damn this man.

He reached down and put his hands on the edge of the table, pushing his chair away and rising to his feet.

“Well doll, guess I’ll see ya in the mornin’. Do you take cream and sugar with your coffee?” He questioned with a slightly raised eyebrow. You gathered up your notepad and coffee mug as you stood from the table. Your now cold coffee sloshed over the side a little bit and onto your notepad, but you tried to not pay any attention to it as you tucked the notepad under your arm to brush a curl out of your face.

“Nope. But I can grab my own coffee before the flight, thanks,” you say as you turn to towards the door. Right now, all you wanted to do was try to avoid conversation and make it back to your room without any trouble. A few steps down the corridor to the elevator, you heard the heavy steps of boots approach from behind. Soon enough, you felt Bucky brush against your shoulder, quickly falling in stride with your steps.

“Ya know doll, we’ll be spending a lot of time together on this mission. You’re gonna have to talk to me at some point,” he said calmly.

“We are talking, right now. What else do you want?” You question with a slight edge to your tone. More coffee sloshed over the edge of your mug and onto your chest. Oh, great. You stopped in front of the elevator and tucked your notepad under your arm again to press the “up” button. You turned to say goodbye to Bucky but noticed his gaze had dropped below your face, directly to the coffee on your chest. He flicked his eyes back to yours.

“You have somethin’ on your shirt,” he said lowly through a smirk. Here comes that heat again. Just what you needed right now.

The elevator door opened before either of you could say anything else, and you quickly stepped inside.

“I noticed,” you muttered. The heat continued to creep up into your cheeks. You quickly hit the button to your floor, and Bucky stepped into the elevator. Usually, you didn’t mind that you and Bucky lived on the same floor. In fact, you loved it. Living on the same floor just gave you more time to admire him. But right now, you were dreading it.

Time in the elevator felt like it passed slower than molasses. You could feel the awkward tension growing by the second. Bucky cleared his throat.

“Did I do something wrong?” Bucky stared forward. The question kind of took you by surprise.

“N-no, you didn’t. I’ve just been uh…,” you paused. “Going through some stuff lately.” Bucky isn’t an idiot and probably saw right through your shitty lie. The elevator dinged, and the doors quietly slid open. Bucky extended his arms and raised an eyebrow as if to say, “Ladies first”.

You muttered a quiet “thank you” and walked down the hall, passing your room on the right and heading into the kitchen. You dumped the rest of your coffee down the sink and put the mug in the dishwasher. You heard Bucky quietly walk up behind you, and you turned around, coming face-to-face with him. His grey-blue eyes were staring through you, and he put his hands on the counter on either side of your waist. You tried to back up at least a few inches, but instead just felt the cool kiss of the granite counter through your thin shirt. You’re pretty sure you’ve never felt this intimidated before - but in a weird, sexy way.

“It feels like you’re tryin’ to ignore me, and honestly, I feel kind of hurt,” Bucky said quietly with a slight tilt of his head. “If I did somethin’ wrong, I want you to tell me, doll.” You take a deep breath. You can smell something minty and earthy radiating from him. It feels like it’s overtaking your senses, and you fight to not let yourself give-in to the urge to kiss him, right then and there.

“Trust me, you haven’t done anything wrong,” you barely choke out. “It’s what we might do that I’m worried about.” You quickly duck under his arm and round the corner to your room, shutting your door firmly behind you. Nice going, asshat. Now you’ve really complicated things.