Summary: Bucky gets a new neighbor at the compound and has a battle of wills over the volume of music.
Warnings: Language, nonsense
A/N: My girl, @stuckonjbbarnes has far surpassed the milestone this challenge was celebrating, so we have even more reason to party it up. Congrats again, Dani!
Prompt: Stereo Heart by Gym Class Heroes
The power of ten. It’s an old rule of engagement, one Bucky hadn’t used in quite some time. But he was thinking about reviving it just for you.
You and your stupidly loud music.
The power of ten was the promise of an older brother to make matters much worse for a certain younger sister who had a proclivity for pranks and shenanigans. Rebecca felt his wrath on many an occasion, even once made to pee her pants after an intense bout of tickling. It was always his favorite weapon.
But he couldn’t use that on you. He had only known you for a week.
Nevertheless, the incessant “thump thump thump” of the bass booming out of your speakers in the neighboring apartment had to be stopped. Desperate times and all that.
The first few nights, he tried to ignore it, but his super sonic hearing made that damn near impossible. When it became too much on the fifth night, he left his apartment and slept on the couch in the common area. The crick in his neck the next morning convinced him to never do that again.
That left talking to you. Having an actual conversation. With the new girl. In person.
Bucky finally got the nerve to do it the night before last. He was worried about offending you or hurting your feelings, so his knock on the door was soft, a bit sheepish. After waiting several minutes with no answer, his timidness turned to annoyance which inspired him to bang on your door instead.
Seconds later, the door was ripped from its hinges and you were yelling at him.
“WHAT?!”
The audacity. The gall. The nerve. You were the reason Bucky hadn’t slept in a week, but you were copping an attitude with him? Oh, no. Absolutely not.
“Don’t you think your music is a little loud?” There was an edge in his voice. A restraint on the anger boiling his blood. The smirk on your face definitely didn’t help.
“Easy there, Sergeant Barnes. You’re starting to sound your age, even if you don’t exactly look it.” With a wink and a grin, the door was shut in his face and the volume on the stereo raised higher.
That’s when Bucky decided this meant war.
Lizzo was catchy, he was willing to give you that, but he only knew this because you played her album on repeat until 3am. Electing to stay awake, he kept a watchful eye on his alarm clock, waiting for it to signal the usual morning run.
The one he took every day at the break of dawn.
A lazy and sinister smile crept onto his face when he turned it off. Crawling out of bed, he took a moment to stretch before calling out to the friendly AI. “Good morning, F.R.I.D.A.Y.!”
A soft light poured into the room while the automatic blinds retracted. F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s response was punctual, if not a bit teasing. “Feeling chipper this morning, are we, Sarge?”
He snickered at the Irish-toned taunt, but it wasn’t enough to deter him. He carried on while he made his bed. “Oh, we are, F.R.I.D.A.Y. We are. So chipper, in fact, that I think I need a little music while I get ready for the day. Think ya can help me out with that?”
After a quick back and forth, Bucky and F.R.I.D.A.Y. decided on a hip hop playlist once she suggested it would help energize him for the run. It was in between songs he had never heard while brushing his teeth he caught the knock.
He spit into the sink and rinsed out his mouth. He didn’t rush, there was no hurry. Not really. By the time he finally got to the door, your fists were banging against it and it pleased him. Boy, did it please him.
When he finally opened the door, he was greeted by a very tired looking, very frazzled, you. Leaning against the frame, he folded his arms across his chest and smirked. “Mornin’. You’re up early.”
With a groan and a grimace, you shoved him. Hard. “It’s six in the morning, Barnes! Some of us are trying to sleep!”
Bucky tried to keep a straight face. He wanted to appear unaware and indifferent, but that complaint was just too much. It was hilarious, hysterical even. It was just so...hypocritical. So he laughed in your face.
“Oh, I’m sorry! Did I wake you, sleeping beauty?”
You rolled your eyes and stomped back to your room. Bucky kept the music going for another hour, skipping his run entirely.
Torturing you like this was far more amusing than tormenting his kid sister. He just hadn’t figured out why, yet.
This went on for another week, each of you taking your stunts to the next level with every turn.
You broke into Bucky’s room and cut the wires to the speakers, but that got you in trouble with Tony… something about the team needing to contact Bucky in the event of an emergency?
Bucky convinced Natasha to override F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s protocols so that she wouldn’t play music in your room at all, but that only gave him one night of peace because you bought a boombox the very next day.
It wasn’t until Steve called for a ceasefire that it stopped. The scolding included the two of you being likened to children which then prompted you to stick your tongue out at your neighbor.
Like a five year old.
Which only proved Steve’s point.
The team was leaving for a reconnaissance mission in three days and, supposedly, you people needed sleep to be good at your jobs. So, you both relented. Your music still buzzed through the walls, but it was quieter and silenced at a reasonable hour.
It was all Steve could ask for and, frankly, more than Bucky expected..
The mission, your very first one with the team, was nothing short of a disaster. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, just bad intel, but it still rattled you. Arriving back at the compound early in the afternoon, Bucky watched as you made a beeline for your apartment.
When the thought of checking on you crossed his mind, he quickly brushed it off. The two of you weren’t exactly friends, he didn’t think you would want comforting words from him. And still...he didn’t like the idea of you feeling down.
As the sun set, he kept waiting for the sound of your annoying music. A belted lyric, a guitar riff. Hell, he even would’ve welcomed the bass that rattled the walls. For once, he actually wanted to hear it so he knew you were alright. But it never came.
Again, Bucky found himself at your door, knocking gently this time. That and the soft whisper of your name coaxed you to open it. He was met with tear stained cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and a heartbreaking frown.
“What? No music tonight? It feels so quiet around here.”
The smile you returned was soft, hidden once you ducked your head. Pulling an AirPod out of your ear, you held up your phone. “Figured I’d give you the night off.”
Snatching the phone, Bucky moved past you and into your apartment. “Classical music, huh? How come you never play this through the stereo?”
Joining him on the edge of the bed, you wiped the tears from your face using the sleeve of your t-shirt. Taking a deep sigh, you admitted the truth as if it was obvious. “Well...I couldn’t run the risk of you actually enjoying it.”
When he looked over to you, you each bursted into a fit of laughter - the kind that leaves you breathless and makes your sides ache. Minutes rolled by before either of you could stop.
This time, the tears streaming down your face were happy ones and Bucky didn’t mind them so much. He had them, too. “Ya know, some of your music isn’t so bad.”
A white flag. A truce.
Your smug expression let him know he was done for, but your next move only confirmed it. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. Play some music for me, would ya? Something good. We have to teach grandpa here a thing or two.”
Your eyes shined as you begged him to dance and Bucky was sure he had officially lost this war. His rules of engagement, the power of ten, were no use against you.
This is my (very, very late) submission for @stuckonjbbarnes‘s writing challenge. Congratulations on the milestone! You deserve all the best.
Prompt: I Would by One Direction
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Word Count: 6289
Warnings: Violence, cheating, anger, swearing, character deaths
“Alexander, I’m going into town to do the shopping. Did you want me to pick up anything specific?” You ask, poking your head into your husband’s home office.
He’s on the phone, again. Another call in the span of half an hour. Something’s gone wrong. But you’re not supposed to know. He gestures for you to wait a moment and you lean against the door frame, refusing to leave without an answer. He’ll just have to hurry up on his call.
He speaks in a quiet tone, turned away from you. Keeping secrets. It started a year after you had been married, and for a brief time, you were left wondering if he was cheating on you already. But then you found your own distraction and it didn’t really matter what Alexander Pierce did or does in his spare time. When he’s not screwing over his oil contemporaries and rivals, and the thousands of workers he employs.
He hangs up the phone and turns to you with a sheepish smile that you used to find endearing. Now it just bothers you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. What did you need?” He asks.
“I’m going into town to do the shopping.” You repeat. “I was wondering if you wanted me to get you anything specific.”
“Oh. No, thank you. You’ll be taking Barnes, right?” He looks at you over his glasses, waiting for your answer.
“It’s what you pay him for.” You reply, giving a wave and turning back towards the hallway. “Be back later.” You add before heading for the door that leads to the garage.
James Barnes is already waiting for you. He opens the back door, allowing you to step through first. His cologne swirls around you from the breeze and you murmur a quiet thank you.
He’s silent as he opens the back door of the car and you slide in. Your husband thinks he never speaks. He’s always quiet when he’s in the presence of Alexander.
But you can’t ever seem to get him to stop talking.
He climbs in the driver’s seat and backs out of the garage, turning the car around. “And where are we going today, Mrs. Pierce?” He asks quietly, his blue eyes darting to yours in the rearview mirror.
“Chinatown to start with.” You say, wondering if Alexander has your car bugged. James, Bucky rather, seems to think it’s a possibility. He always acts with the utmost professionalism when you’re in the car.
He has the radio playing on low as he drives. Some slow jazz song and it makes you want to dance with the burly man, wrapped in his muscular arms, safe and sound. Just like you always are with him.
You start to lean forward, just to be close to him, but his eyes catch you with an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
“Don’t forget your seatbelt, ma’am. We’re about to reach city traffic.” He reminds you and you sigh, shifting back.
“You sound like my mother.” You mutter, clicking yourself in, if for no other reason than to restrain yourself from touching him.
It’s been two weeks since you’ve had any time together. Alexander has been surprising you at work by picking you up after your shifts at the bakery, no reason to sneak off with Bucky.
“She sounds like a smart woman.” He replies and you stick your tongue out at him.
He winds his way through the streets, heading for the parking garage you always use, his deep voice humming along to the song.
You close your eyes, content to listen to him. You trust him completely. The sunlight disappears from your face and you open your eyes to see that he’s pulling into the parking garage.
“Here already?” You ask, pushing yourself up straighter.
“Yes, ma’am.” He parks the car and you wait for him to walk around and let you out. He opens your door and offers you his hand. You take it and he squeezes your hand gently as you climb out.
Ever so subtly he brushes your cheek with his thumb. Locking the door behind you, he leads you back down to the ground level.
“I miss you.” You say softly, falling into step next to him.
“I’ve missed you, too.” He replies softly. He glances down at you, his dark hair falling in his face for just a second before he straightens and looks around. He scans the crowd of shoppers, looking for potential threats.
You sigh quietly, pulling him into the spice shop. You make your way towards the back and he pulls you back to him for a beat.
“I’ve missed you.” He whispers.
“We should wait until we get upstairs. There are cameras.” You remind him, pushing away.
He lets you go but doesn’t stop talking. “I had a dream about us. You escaped your husband and we were somewhere tropical, somewhere where we could be together out in the open. No more danger for you, no looking over our shoulders.” He says, following you up the stairs to one of the apartments above.
“You really think that we would be able to outrun Alexander? He’d find us anywhere.”
“What if he couldn’t?” He backs you against the door of his apartment, leaning down towards you. You’ve missed him so much. You rise on your tiptoes and press your lips to his. The dam breaks and he inhales deeply, breathing you in, kissing you like a man half-starved. His fingers tug at your shirt and you fumble backward to grab the doorknob.
With a twist, you stumble back into the apartment, tearing each other’s clothes off as you make your way to the bedroom.
***
Your head is resting on his chest, slowly lifting with his steady breathing. His fingers are lightly tracing your arm, content to hold you in this moment.
“Do you think it will work?” You ask softly. He has the most dangerous part in this plan, he’s the most at risk. And if something goes wrong, if there’s one misstep, if he gets hurt, it won’t matter anymore what Alexander does to you.
“Yes. I know it will. He doesn’t love you, Y/N, he doesn’t even tell you he loves you. You know what kind of a man he is, you need to get away from him. He’s put you in so much danger and if something happens when I’m not there, or if I’m not quick enough, I wouldn’t be able to handle that.” He shakes his head and you know he’s right. He’s the only thing that’s kept you alive when you go out in public.
“I know. I’m just worried about you.” You turn your face to press a kiss to his chest. “None of this matters at all if I can’t be with you at the end of it.”
“I know.” He looks at his watch and sighs. “We should do your shopping. It’s getting late.” He guides you up, his hand soft on your back. “Christ, I love you.” He mumbles, watching you pull on your shirt.
“I love you, too.” You tell him, squeezing his hand. “We should get going. We’ve been gone for a long time.” You say and he shifts behind you, kneeling as he wraps his arms around you.
“Yeah, but it’s been two weeks and I missed you desperately.” He murmurs, nuzzling into your neck.
“I could tell.” You laugh. You pull your pants back on, tossing him his shirt.
***
You kneel next to your tomato plants and search for any that are ripe.
“Need any help?” Bucky asks behind you. You look over your shoulder at him with a small smile.
“Do you know how to tell if they’re ripe?” You ask.
“Nope. Grew up in a Brooklyn apartment. No gardens.” He shrugs.
You glance up to the house, fairly certain that you can’t be seen from here. “You can sit and keep me company, then.” You say, nodding to the spot next to you.
Bucky lowers himself down and shifts the basket closer to you.
“Who’s on duty today for him?” You ask quietly.
“Sam Wilson.” He says. “He’s a good man. You’d like him.”
“How well do you know him?” You ask.
“Pretty well. We were in the army together and I got him the job for Mr Pierce.”
“And he still considers you a friend?” You raise an eyebrow and he chuckles.
“For now.”
You sit back on your knees, looking over at him. “Bucky,” you start and he shakes his head.
“Stop worrying. I’ve thought of every last detail. You just have to be patient.”
“Maybe this is a bad idea. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Y/N.” Bucky sighs loudly and more guilt roils through your stomach. “Pierce doesn’t love you. After you were attacked, he wasn’t there for you, I was. He didn’t hold you when you had nightmares, I did. He didn’t keep you safe, that was me. When I got assigned to protect you, you told me yourself it had been over two years since he’d even touched you. That’s not love, that’s not a marriage. He doesn’t care about you. We deserve a life together, a chance to be happy. You know I can give you what he won’t. I don’t want to have to keep sneaking around, always worried about what he’s going to do to you if he catches us. It keeps me awake at night.” He stiffens slightly.
“I trust you.” You say, fighting against the tears.
“Doll, please don’t cry. I’m not trying to hurt you. But we have to do this.
“I hope you’re right.” You brush off your face and lean back down to tend to your garden.
“Me, too.” He mumbles.
***
“Ma’am? A package for you.” Sam Wilson says politely, setting the Manila envelope on the kitchen island.
“Thank you.” You nod, picking it up and glancing at him. “Will you stir that for a moment?” You ask, gesturing to the pot of sauce on the stove.
“Sure.” He steps forward and you walk upstairs to your bedroom, opening the package. The contents are to your satisfaction, although you don’t exactly know what you’re looking for. But you trust Bucky.
You place the package in a safe place before going back downstairs to relieve Sam. “Thank you.” You say, taking the wooden spoon from him.
“Of course. Holler if you need anything.” He smiles with a short bow and leaves the kitchen.
***
You check your wallet to make sure your card is in place before setting it in your purse.
“Where are you going today?” Alexander asks behind you.
You clamp down on the flash of irritation before answering. “To find new flowers for the garden.” You pick up your keys and he takes them from you.
“You don’t drive yourself anywhere, remember?” He says.
“I’m going to be hours, I don’t know what I want or what I’m looking for.” You lie. “I don’t want to make your security guy come with me. Nothing is going to happen to me at a plant nursery.” You say.
“As I recall, that’s what you said the last time. I insisted Barnes go with you and you wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t done that.” He says, cupping your face. Your stomach turns at his touch.
Bucky also wouldn’t have had to save you if it weren’t for your husband, but he’s clearly choosing to ignore that.
“Things are different now.” You say, taking your keys back.
“Please? Do this for me?”
You sigh loudly. “Fine, but you owe him a bonus for making him put up with me during this. You won’t even go with me to pick out plants.” You warn, picking up your purse.
He laughs lightly. “That’s fair.”
You sidestep him and head down the stairs. Bucky is waiting at the bottom and you drop the keys into his outstretched hand. “You’re stuck with me.” You say, tossing a glance over your shoulder at your husband standing at the top of the stairs.
“Have fun.” He waves and you head for the garage.
Bucky has to hurry to open the door for you. “Slow down.” He whispers, frowning slightly. “We have plenty of time.”
“Just get me out of here.” You mutter under your breath before sliding in.
He climbs in the driver’s side and backs out of the garage. He slips his hand backward between the seats and holds your hand . His thumb rubs over the back soothingly as he drives. It takes you longer than it should to realize that he’s not heading for your normal spot.
He catches your eye in the rearview mirror and gives a small wink. His very presence, away from your husband, is helping to calm you already. But it’s not enough. You need to feel his arms around you. Keeping in mind the fact that the car might be bugged, you have to come up with a reason for him to pull over.
“Can you pull over? I want to get a picture of that flower to see if the nursery has it.” You say, feeling a little dumb.
“Yes, ma’am.” He replies, pulling off the road into the protection of the trees. He parks and you climb out, walking a good distance away. He jogs after you, catching your arm and pulling you back against him.
You wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into his chest. He rubs your back gently. “Talk to me, doll.” He says.
“He touched me, while taking all the credit for saving my life.” You sigh.
His arms stiffen for a moment. “How did he manage that?”
“Said that it was his idea for you to come with me the day of the accident and if he hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Baby, you know how he thinks. Everything is his idea. It doesn’t mean anything. We’re so close, okay? Just stick with it a little longer.”
“I’m ready.” You say, tipping your head to look back at him.
“You sure?” His thumb strokes your cheek gently.
“Yeah.”
He leans in, kissing you slowly, the kind that aches with an overabundance of love. He pulls away much too soon and you chase after his soft lips. He chuckles and turns you back around.
“Let’s go.” He says, kissing the back of your hand. He helps you get back in the car and heads for the motel near the nursery.
You’re more than ready to get lost in him for an hour or two.
The motel is mostly empty, just a few cars in the parking lot behind the building. Thankfully it’s not visible from the street, just in case Alexander drives by. Not that he would be traveling this way. Most of his crooked oil business dealings take place in town.
Bucky opens your door and leads you up to the room. It’s not much, but it’s alone time, just the two of you. You don’t need the big fancy house, the dirty money from your husband. You have plenty saved away from your job at the bakery, since Alexander has never let you pay for anything yourself.
He pulls you close, kissing you and undressing as you back up towards the bed. Being in a motel, you can’t help but begin to think of your first time with Bucky, the events that led you to this moment.
“Oh, come on. You are allowed to speak, you know.” You sigh, leaning forward.
“If my mouth is moving, my eyes aren’t doing what they should be.” Barnes says from the front seat.
“I bet you’re an excellent multitasker.” You say, poking his shoulder.
“I have to be, don’t I?” He says, flicking those gorgeous blue eyes back to you. “Ma’am, please sit back.”
“Oof, I love it when you call me ‘ma’am’.” You say with a smirk at him in the mirror. You’re rewarded with his handsome face twinging pink. It’s been months since he’s been assigned to protect you and drive you around, and this is the most reaction you’ve managed to get out of him.
His hands are everywhere on you, gripping your thighs as he rocks into you. His face is buried in your neck, breathing in your scent as deeply as he can.
He kisses up your neck, up your jaw before capturing your mouth with his. His beautiful eyes are so dilated, more black than blue.
“Y/N,” he breathes against your lips.
He stops the car at a stoplight and you decide to try again. “What did you do before this?” You ask.
“I was in the military.” He says, his shoulders straightening a little. Still proud.
“Marine?” You ask, having no problem seeing him in dress whites.
His face turns almost offended before he smooths his brow out. “No, army.”
“Do you miss it?” You ask.
He opens his mouth to answer when there’s a sound like a cannon going off and then the car rocks with a thud. You scream in surprise, thinking maybe another car hit you, but the car rocked to the side.
Barnes looks around from his seat and curses when it happens again. “Bullets. We’re taking gunfire. Get down.” He orders, somehow maintaining perfect control. He reaches into the back seat and grabs your wrist, yanking you onto the floorboard of the car. “Better hope your husband didn’t skimp on the bullet-proofing.” He mutters.
Your heart is hammering in your chest as the car rocks again. You can feel the vibration through your back. You whimper, covering your face.
His heavy breathing against your skin is exactly what you crave. Late at night, early in the morning, in the shower. You just can’t get enough of knowing that you make him come undone.
Your nails dig into his muscular back as he stretches you, moves inside you. You exhale his name and he crushes you with a kiss.
“I need to get you out of here.” He mutters. “Hold on. Don’t you move.” He warns, shifting back in his seat. He slams on the gas and the car shoots forward. You grunt as you’re forced into the back seat.
He speeds through the intersection and the car bumps again. “Jesus, where are they coming from?” He grumbles, whipping around a corner.
He drives recklessly through the streets, every once in a while the car bumping with another shot. Your nerves are frayed, hands shaking. Your eyes are glued to the door.
“Are you breathing?” He asks, glancing back at you. You shake your head and he reaches back to squeeze your hand. “Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me.”
“How are they following us?” You gasp.
“I don’t know.”
You go to let go of his hand but he doesn’t release. “Steer.”
“I can steer.” He says. He turns and the light vanishes. You yelp and he gives your hand a shake. “Parking garage. This will give us some cover to get inside.” He says.
“I don’t like this. My heart isn’t beating.”
“Do you trust me?” He asks, pulling haphazardly into a parking space.
“Yes.” You answer automatically.
“Good. We’re gonna get out.”
“What? No!”
He turns around in the car and cups your face, making you look at him. “We have to get inside. I will keep you safe, I promise.”
The sweat sticks to your skin as you arch up into him. Moans soft as whispers fall from your parted lips.
“So good, baby. You’re taking me so well.” He moans, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he holds you tight.
“-taking fire at the corner of Lamar and Brentwood. Forced to flee in a vehicle.” Barnes says into his phone, taking your hand and pulling you along the wall. “Negative. Couldn’t stay in place. We’re too exposed here.” He says.
You can’t do anything but follow along, trying not to stumble over your own numb feet. He pushes you to your knees behind a big truck while he looks around, getting his bearings.
“We’re in an office building down on Park.” He continues, leaning back against the wall. “No, we’ll be fine. Yeah, just pass my number to the head officer on the scene.” He nods before hanging up.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You groan.
“Nope. No. Hey, look at me. No puking, okay? I’m a sympathetic puker. You puke, I puke, got it? It’s just nerves. They’ll go away.” He grips your shoulders.
“What do we do?”
“I’m gonna find a place to hide you until the police arrive.”
“You’re staying with me, right?”
“I’m not going anywhere. We have to move now, okay?”
You nod and he laces his hand with yours, strong and secure and he takes off, pulling you with him. He heads for the stairs, going down one flight.
He searches the floor until he finds a small interior office and pushes you inside. He shuts the door after him and leans against it.
“Now we wait.” He says and you slide down against the wall. “Still feel like puking?”
“A little.”
“I’m a little surprised you haven’t asked why they were trying to kill you.” He says, sitting next to you.
“I know my husband acts like I’m stupid, but I know what he does. I know what a terrible person he is, how he abuses his employees and swindles his partners.” You shake your head, rubbing your face. “But you getting caught in his crossfire? That’s not fair to you.” You exhale a shaky breath. “What happens to your family if my husband gets you killed?”
“No family to speak of, so no problem there.” He shrugs and your mouth pulls down at the corners.
You’re silent for a few minutes until his phone rings. The police are here.
He guides you over onto your stomach, his fingers trailing blazing fires across your skin. He wraps his arm around you, holding your back against his chest as he takes you so slowly, savoring every stroke.
You can feel the beads of sweat gathering at the column of your spine. He follows it up to the nape of your neck with his tongue, sending shivers down your spine.
With one hand, you’re gripping the sheets so tight you might rip them. With the other, you’re gripping the back of his head, fingers rasping over his scalp.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Alexander asks at the police station, pulling you out of your chair and into a tight hug.
Knowing that this was his fault, that he could have gotten you killed makes your stomach turn to have him touch you. You want to fling his hands off, to shove him away and yell at him. But here in public isn’t the place to do that. You’ll wait until you’re in the privacy of your own home.
Instead, you remain silent, but he wasn’t really looking for an answer from you. “Are we done here?” He asks the officer who had been interviewing you.
“Yeah, just make sure you’re available for more questions.” He answers with a glance at you. You nod mutely.
Alexander leads you out to another car where Barnes is waiting, holding the door open for you. Your husband tries to make you get in the car and for a minute you resist, not wanting to go through this all over again.
“Y/N, please get in, darling. Nothing’s going to happen to you.” He says, lifting you up and pushing you in feet first.
You fight the tears as long as you can. You can feel them burning at the back of your eyes, fighting just as hard to fall. All the way to a hotel where you’re hurried inside and up to a higher floor.
You might have been able to win the fight, until your husband orders just a handful of men to patrol downstairs and only Barnes to stay with you up here.
And then he leaves.
He leaves his wife, who was almost just murdered and is terrified, all alone with strangers for comfort.
Bucky’s breath shudders as he thrusts one last time, finishing inside you. After a long minute he rolls over, never letting go of you. He shifts you against him and you rest your head on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, so steady-always there for you.
You know you made a mistake marrying Pierce, but you can’t regret it too much since it brought you to Bucky, your soulmate.
The love of your life.
It’s a long night, that first night in the hotel. Bucky stays up, talking to you, distracting you for as long as you can. He tells you all kinds of things about himself, asks you about all kinds of things about you.
It’s early in the morning when your eyes finally slide closed, unable to fight the sleep anymore. You shift against him, laying against his big arm and falling asleep.
It should have been your husband there, holding you while you fall asleep. And an hour later, when you wake up screaming from a nightmare, it should have been Alexander there to hold you and tell you it would be alright.
Instead, it’s Bucky there, soothing back your hair, whispering soft nothings until finally humming softly while you cry into his shirt.
That night is the first night you sleep together. It’s sloppy and confusing, both looking for comfort and security in each other. But there’s a layer of affection and caring that’s long been missing from your marriage.
Bucky cups your face, lifting it to look you in the eyes. “I will always love you, Y/N. You know that, right? No matter what happens. I would walk through fire for you.” He promises and you nod, rising to kiss him.
It’s a few minutes more before you have the strength to get up and get dressed. You know you don’t have much time.
You make sure you have everything, that your clothes and hair are straight before you open the door only to come face to face with Brock Rumlow, your husband’s head of security.
Your heart stops dead in your chest, everything seems to stop moving as the world holds its breath. Then it picks up double time, beating faster and harder than it ever has. His face twists into a cruel smirk as he steps back out of the way. You can feel Bucky press in behind you and that gives you the courage to step forward.
The game is up, no more hiding.
You step out into the hallway to find Alexander blocking your way, flanked by Sam Wilson and Jack Rollins. Rumlow takes Bucky’s gun from him. He meets your eyes coldly and part of you wants to shrink back, but after everything he’s done, you’re not ashamed. So you don’t cower before him. Your chin raises a fraction of an inch and you stare back at him.
He shakes his head and turns away, leading everyone back outside. “They’re in my vehicle.” He says quietly to Brock.
You’re poked and prodded in the back until you climb into the SUV. Bucky climbs in next to you, offering you a small, reassuring smile as he sits. Strangely, you don’t feel reassured.
Pierce sits across from you with Sam taking his place next to him. Rumlow is driving and there are another two cars behind yours. Sam shots Bucky a cold, disgusted look.
“Why the look, Wilson?” Your husband asks conversationally.
“He betrayed me. Lied, used me.” Sam shakes his head. “We were brothers and you threw that away, man. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He snaps, glaring at Bucky.
“Some things are worth losing everything for,” Bucky replies softly.
You can only imagine how much Sam’s words hurt him. Your hand is next to his and you twist your pinkies together, just to let him know you’re there.
The vehicles pull up outside of several warehouses and you’re both marched out of the cars and inside one of the buildings. You could get away if it weren’t for the insane amount of firepower Alexander’s men have.
You’re led into a room, barrels of what’s marked explosives are positioned all around you. Rumlow and Rollins tie you and Bucky to a pair of steel chairs. No words are spoken, but you can hear your pulse roaring in your ears.
This is bad.
So bad.
He’s going to kill you.
“You say he betrayed you, Sam. You must want to hit something.” Alexander starts thoughtfully.
“Yeah, actually,” Sam admits. My husband gestures for him to go for it and the man steps forward, arm already swinging. You flinch with every blow to his face. But you’re powerless to stop it.
When Sam finally steps away, Bucky’s face is bloody and bruising, but he’s still alert. He spits blood onto the floor next to him, that look on his face saying he can take more.
Then Alexander steps forward.
His face looks calm, but you can see the underlying tension in his shoulders, the way his hands are gripping the envelope he’s holding just a little too tight. Rage.
“You think I’m an idiot? That I haven’t known about this for over a year?” He rips the envelope open and throws a collection of candids at your feet, including one of him holding you at the Asian market a month ago, and from the garden when you were picking tomatoes a few weeks ago.
Your stomach plummets as you realize he’s been following you this whole time, and you thought you had been so clever. Bucky looks at you, catching your eye and mouths just two little words: I’m sorry.
Pierce catches it and loses his mind. He attacks Bucky with everything he has, punching him in the face and ribs until his head lolls backward, no longer having the strength to hold it up. You’re crying and begging for him to stop, it’s killing you to see Bucky in so much pain because of you. You fight against the ropes holding you down, pulling at your wrists until the rough material bites into them.
Alexander steps back, breathing hard. His fists are bloody and shaking. A sob escapes you as you look at Bucky, your heartbreaking. Your husband moves in front of you but you refuse to look away from Bucky. Not even when Alexander’s big hand slaps across your face. He rains blows down on your body while he screams at you.
“Look at what you’ve done! You’ve turned me into an animal who hits women! If you hadn’t been such a cheating slut, I wouldn’t be forced to do this. Why couldn’t you have just died that day at the stoplight like you were supposed to? That’s what I paid them for and you fucked it up!” He shouts.
Now Bucky is struggling to get free, to protect you. Your face has turned numb with so many strikes, but you know as soon as he stops, you’ll be feeling the pain. Bucky snarls as Pierce lands a particularly heavy blow to your ribs. Your air leaves you in a rush and you double over, gasping for air.
“Y/N,” Bucky calls, fear and concern lacing his voice. You nod, trying to reassure him that you’re okay.
“Time to end this.” Pierce says coldly. “Wilson, kill him. Make her watch. Then you know what to do.”
“No, please? I’ll do whatever you want, Alexander. Take me instead, just please, please let him go.” You beg, pulling at your wrists again.
Sam steps forward, ignoring your heartbroken pleas, removes his gun from its holster. Bucky looks at you, his eyes softening as much as they can.
I love you. He mouths at you and your eyes fill with tears, blurring his beautiful face.
“I love you.” You gasp. He smiles softly, eyes staying on you as Sam levels his gun at Bucky. The bang echoes around the warehouse and you scream as the chair tips over backward. Bucky gurgles as he struggles to breathe.
You sob quietly, forced to listen to the man you love dying and there’s nothing you can do.
“Let’s go.” Rumlow orders gruffly, grabbing your arm and dragging you away.
“No! No! Bucky!” You cry, struggling to get back to him. You don’t want him to be alone. They ignore your protests and march you out of the building, across the road and into the warehouse facing the one you just left.
Your husband is there and you want to do nothing more than smash him in the face. He wiggles a remote switch in his hand, showing you what it is.
“Come on, my darling wife. I want to show you something.” He says, gripping your shoulders gently and turning you around to face the big bay doors. You can see the warehouse where Bucky is lying dying. He holds his hand out in front of you and pushes the button on the switch.
You stumble back in shock as the building explodes in a massive fireball, shooting straight into the sky. Planks of wood and debris are falling all around you.
You scream, falling to your knees, sobbing. You’re vaguely aware of Pierce saying something to Sam and Rumlow as he leaves. Sam hauls you to your feet and you lose your mind. You attack him, slapping, hitting, kicking anything you can reach.
“He was your friend! Your brother! You betrayed him!” You scream.
He grabs you by the throat and slams you against the wall, the blow to your head stuns you for a minute. Like a viper, he spins you around, his hand around your neck and the other around the back of your head.
You see what’s about the happen a split second before it actually happens. He snaps your neck with an ugly crunch and your body collapses to the floor.
***
The view overlooking the small Italian village below is stunning. The sight of the gentle water is enough to make any observer catch their breath in wonderment.
Having a cup of hot coffee out on the veranda is an ideal way to start one’s morning.
But what could truly make it perfect would be the two men walking up the cobblestone path right now.
“Y/N!”
You set down your mug and run down the steps. “Bucky!” You cry, launching yourself into his open arms. He holds you tightly as he buries his face in your neck. He kisses you fiercely as he holds you.
An awkward cough from the man next to him and Bucky releases you with a chuckle.
“Hi, Sam.” You grin, pulling him in for a tight hug. He kisses your cheek, pulling back to examine your face. “It looks worse than it is.” You assure him. You take both their hands and lead them up the steps to your new home.
Epilogue
“Wait. I’m confused.” Steve Rogers says, waving his hand. Steve is Sam and Bucky’s friend from the army. Currently, he’s stationed in Italy; he wanted to reconnect so you’re having him over for dinner.
The dinner is delicious, you’re happy to have a reason to cook again, and people to cook for. The boys really seem to enjoy it, having eaten almost the whole thing.
“Confused about what?” Bucky asks, pulling you close against him.
“Only everything. When did you know that Pierce found out?” He asks.
You sip your wine, letting them tell the story. You’re happy to just forget it and move on.
“A couple weeks after I came on. Pierce asked me to do surveillance on his wife, said she was in danger from a stalker. I gave Buck a heads up.” Sam says, pushing his plate away.
“I gave him the okay to give the information to Pierce after we came up with a plan for all of use to get out safely,” Bucky adds.
“So, the three of you hatched a plan? That I get. The fake passports in the package, hidden where?” Steve looks at you.
“Inside the lining of my suitcase, packed and ready to go the day of.” You say.
“Okay. Got that. How did you fake your deaths?”
“Sam got in good with Pierce after that, bonding over betrayal or whatever, made him trust him. He planted the blanks in his gun and Rumlow’s just in case he was asked to kill me, too.” Bucky says.
“That was some first-rate acting, too, Y/N,” Sam says with a chuckle. “Even I believed it was real.”
“Thank you, that was the easy part.”
“The hard part?” Steve prompts.
“Attacking Sam after.”
“And that’s how I injected her with tetrodotoxin b. Knocked her out so that when I ‘snapped her neck’, she wouldn’t have a pulse.”
“Damn,” Steve mutters.
“Oh, that reminds me.” Sam starts. “Since you snuck out of the country two weeks ago, you’ve been declared missing.” He gets up and retrieves a big envelope. “That led to a huge investigation, helped along by all the information you’ve been stealing over the years. Long story short, his whole operation has been taken down, thanks to you.”
“He’s in jail?” You ask, trying really hard not to get your hopes up.
“For the rest of his life. Which means that all of his assets now belong to you.” He hands you the paperwork in the envelope. “Congratulations, you’re free to start a new life.”
Bucky pulls you close, kissing your temple. “Whadda think, doll? You gonna take all his stuff?”
“Would you?” You ask, looking at the love of your life.
This is for @stuckonjbbarnes writing challenge with the song Loving Someone by The 1975.
Summary: In order to protect your heart, you made up the “only fuck once” rule, dictating that you could not sleep with the same person more than once. Then Carol Danvers comes back to the compound, to stay. Will this rule bite you in the ass?
Warnings: Swearing, references to smut, dirty talk?
Paring: Carol x Reader
A/N- I did not edit this.... so sorry
“What are you doing tonight?” Sam asked as you both slowed to an easy jog.
“Probably just gonna go the bar,” you reply easily.
Sam stops abruptly, “How long are you going to stay in denial?” There isn’t any malice or bite to his words, just genuine concern and it makes you feel uneasy. You make some non-committal noise instead of answering and finish jogging to the doors of the compound.
You do your best to avoid Sam the rest of the day, which wasn’t too difficult until it’s time for you to leave for your favorite bat. Except Sam is standing by the door, dressed and ready to go. As you approach, Sam has that look in his eyes and you know you cannot convince him to stay home unless you stay home tonight.
“You driving or are we getting an uber?” You ask, throwing your cropped leather jacket on.
“I’ll drive,” Sam decides, grabbing a random set of keys and you both make your way to the garage.
The bar is only slightly packed, which is, in your humble opinion, optimal. You like to have room to breathe, more specifically though, room to dance with whatever woman consents.
You skip over to the bar and order a rum and coke and chat with your favorite bartender and Sam watches from a booth he’s claimed.
“You know, you are a lot less closed off here,” he casually says while throwing a peanut into his mouth.
“Are you just going to therapize me the entire night?” You (semi) joke.
Sam shrugs and you take a long sip of your drink before moving towards the dancing people.
The night went on how every weekend-night goes. You get pleasantly buzzed/on the edge of drunk, dance with hot women, and eventually, go to either your place or their place where you will (hopefully) ravish each other.
~
You wake up slowly, a faint pressure on your hip. You hear the woman behind you breathe deeply before stretching gently.
“Morning,” she says softly, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. “I’d love to stay for breakfast, er,” she looks at her phone. “Lunch but I’ve got a meeting later.”
You nod and watch her hop around throwing her clothes back on. “I’m just gonna use the bathroom then I’ll be out of your hair,” she says, watching as you sit up and the sheet pools around your waist.
You raise an eyebrow in reply.
Once she’s left (with her phone number written on your mirror with the lipstick she was wearing last night), you throw on a pair of sweats and one of Sam’s shirts before making your way out to the kitchen.
“She was cute,” Sam says, throwing something in the microwave.
You hum in agreement and look through the fridge, eventually settling on an apple.
“Oh, we’ve got a meeting at 3,” Sam informs you. “Captain Marvel is back in town and she has some stuff she needs to brief us on.”
“Captain Marvel is a woman, huh?” You ask Sam, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.
“You do know that not everyone is bisexual, right?” Sam teases. He grabs his bag of popcorn out of the microwave and starts to walk out of the kitchen before turning back. “Uh, maybe don’t have a one night stand with our teammate?”
~~
You are ready to crawl into a hole or have the earth open up and eat you.
“Hey, Y/N,” Carol greets you, a mischievous glint in her light brown eyes.
“Oh, fuck me,” you whisper before composing yourself. “Hey, Carol,” you say, shaking her hand.
“I already did,” Carol states, voice low, before switching gears to get the meeting started.
The entire meeting is spent trying to listen to Carol talk about possible issues outside of the earth’s orbit, but really you just end up staring, flashes from last night taking over when she moves a certain way. The other part is spent sending death glares at Sam and Bucky who are having the time of their lives at your misery.
Carol excuses herself to take a call and you lean forward, finger-pointing at the men across from you.
“You knew!” You whisper scream, “You couldn’t have warned me? What the hell?”
Sam grins, “I just… Listen, I was going to when I realized it was Carol, but then I remembered that it is 5 million times more fun watching you suffer.”
Bucky cocks his head to the side, “Wait, did you hook up with Carol?”
“Some spy you are,” you grumble as Carol walks back in, a slight frown on her face.
“Apparently I’m grounded for the next… well,” Carol pauses, taking a deep breath, “foreseeable future.”
Sam and Bucky high-five under the table, then volunteer you to show Carol around.
~
After showing Carol around the compound you decided you needed to go out again tonight. During the tour, Carol was extremely flirty, which was welcomed- except for the fact that she was a teammate and not a one night stand. To avoid her, you spent the rest of the day hiding in your room and searching your closet for the perfect outfit to wear. You ended up in a crop top with high waisted, wide-legged pants, and after checking yourself in the mirror you walked out of your room with your head held high. Luckily no one was in the kitchen and you were able to leave the compound without anyone noticing, or so you thought.
The club was vibrating with energy as patrons drank too much and danced as much as they could. You downed a shot at the bar then headed into the crowd. At the heart of the masses, you threw your hands in the air and danced, not caring who with. Soon a pair of large hands gripped your hips. Turning your head to the side, you glanced up at the beautiful man before leaning your body into his. Time was non-existent as you danced with the man and you were positive the feeling of his hand on your waist was burned into your skin.
“You want to get out of here,” he asked, lips at the shell of your ear and voice low.
“I’d rather stay here and dance for a little while longer. That good with you?” You replied eyebrow raised.
Instead of saying anything, he rolled his eyes and walked away, attaching those large hands to some other woman.
You rolled your eyes and sighed as you headed back to the bar and ordered a beer. You sat down and took a long drag from the bottle before popping some peanuts into your mouth. A remix of your favorite song came on, causing you to down the rest of the bottle before heading back into the throng.
You moved your own body with the mix of bodies around you, circling your hips, running your fingers through your hair. You saw a familiar hand slip around your middle and in your alcohol-induced haze, you thought it would be a good idea to test fate.
Lips crashed together as you both got out of the taxi and headed towards the compound.
“Wait,” you cautioned, “ Gotta make sure no one is up.”
“It’s 3 am, Y/N,” Carol countered, “Who is going to be up?”
You chuckled before heading into the common area, Carol trailing behind you. When you found everything dark and empty, Carol’s voice cut through the silence.
“FRIDAY, are any of our teammates up?”
“No,” FRIDAYS voice replied, volume lowered for how late early it was, “All Avengers except you and Y/N Y/L/N are asleep.”
A mischievous look took over Carol’s features as she stalked towards you, causing you to back into a couch, almost falling over the back of it.
Carol quickly caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing her lips to your neck with open-mouthed kisses, causing a low moan to escape you. She then traced her tongue from the pulse point below your jaw over to your mouth.
“You’ve gotta be quiet, baby,” Carol teased, voice low. “If you can do that, I’ll reward you by taking you to my room and fucking you so hard you can’t help but scream.”
A soft whimper left your lips and you nodded, crashing your lips against hers.
~
When you woke up, the first thing you realized was that you were alone in Carol’s bed. You quickly looked around, finding her room empty.
“God damnit,” you muttered to yourself. “I was supposed to go to the club and find someone else to sleep with.”
Your muttering continued as climbed out of her bed to find your clothes scattered throughout her quarters.
You didn’t notice right away when Carol walked back in, giving her the opportunity to admire your half-dressed form.
You were about to put your bra on when you noticed her, leaning up against her desk with two mugs of coffee in hand. Her lips turned up in a smirk as she saw what she thought looked a lot like relief flood over you.
Standing there, bra hanging around your middle, still staring at the gorgeous woman you’ve slept with twice now, you were overwhelmed with confusion. You quickly shook your head and fixed your bra and Carol pushed off the desk towards you.
“Thought you might want some coffee,” she said, handing it over.
“After last night I’ll probably need a pint,” you whispered, taking a sip.
“What was that?” Carol asked eyebrow raised.
You coughed and looked up at her before clearing your throat. “Uh, I just said I’d probably need a pint after last night.”
Carol smiled, “And why is that?”
“Seriously, Carol? Do you need to hear me say it?” you asked.
“Yes,” she replied simply. “Say it.”
You set the coffee down on the nearest flat surface before stepping closer to her. “I need a goddamn pint of coffee because you fucked me into almost every surface of your room until I couldn’t form a coherent sentence.”
“And I’ll do it anytime you’d like,” she told you, voice husky.
You quickly cleared your throat, then located your shirt and headed towards the door. “I wouldn’t count on it,” you did your best to keep your voice even. “I rarely sleep with the same person more than once.”
~
You spent the following weeks avoiding Carol unless absolutely necessary, which included going to a different bar and staying more sober than you normally would, just to make sure you didn’t accidentally end up back in her arms bed.
“You’ve been drinking less,” Bucky stated with a questioning look on his face.
“And what’s that to ya, bionicle boy?” you responded, taking another bite of leftover pasta.
Bucky shrugged, “ Just curious. I-”
“Not just curious,” Sam interrupted, walking out from around the corner. “There are very few things that can get you to drink less. So what is it?”
You huffed and was about to deny them when Carol walked in, sweaty from the gym. She greeted you and you smiled in response, then did your best to not watch the bead of sweat trail down her neck.
You sighed inwardly when she walked out of the kitchen.
Sam and Bucky shared a look before narrowing in on you.
“You just sighed,” Bucky accused, “What happened between you and Carol?”
“I bet I know,” Sam said. “I bet you slept with Carol a second time, breaking your only fuck once rule.”
You tried to interrupt Sam, but he wouldn’t let you.
“BUT! Not only that, you have a crush on her,” he finished.
“I do not!” You exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed.
“Your voice just went up an octave,” Bucky observed, “Which means you are lying.”
“What do you have to say about that?” Sam questioned.
You could feel your face heat up and you jumped off the counter. “I’d say,” you turn to them, legitimately annoyed now, “That it’s none of your business.”
Instead of stomping off to your room, you walked out the front door and headed in whatever direction your feet took you, ending up at a park. Taking a deep breath you sat down on a nearby bench and let your head fall back so you were looking up at the sky. You stayed like that for a while, just watching the soft clouds roll by, mind empty.
At least, it was empty until you looked up and saw two women holding hands, watching their kid go down the slide.
“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself.
You thought about what Bucky and Sam had accused you of, and you knew they were right. You had a big ole’ fat crush on Carol Danvers, fucking Captain Marvel, the woman who played your body better than anyone ever had. That’s when memories flooded your mind.
Memories about people from your past who you had cared deeply for, and who all betrayed your heart. The last one was just after you dropped out of college, right before the Avengers recruited you. After her, you swore you’d never care for anyone in that way ever again. It was just easier that way. Except, when you looked back up at the couple, you felt a heavy loneliness come over you filled with a special kind of pain.
You looked away and your eyes caught on a woman who looked too much like Carol. You rolled your eyes before scrubbing your hands over your face.
“Y/N?” Carol’s voice called out, causing you to tear your eyes from a spot on the sidewalk, surprise etched into your features. “I was looking for you when Sam told me you walked off, upset. He said you’d probably be here.”
“Oh,” you said quietly.
Carol took that as an invitation to sit down next to you, allowing some space between.
“I was looking for you because I am fed up with you avoiding me,” She stated. “I’ve been tired of it for about a while now, actually.”
You let your eyes slide over to the woman next to you, eyeing her carefully.
“Another reason I came looking for you is because I was worried about you,” she said softly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Well, I’m fine,” you said far too quickly.
“Obviously,” Carol chuckled.
You were both quiet for a few beats too long when Carol spoke up again.
“It would be easy for me to be upset with how you’ve been treating me without acknowledging something probably happened to cause you to react like this,” she said, “So, I’ll just say this once and leave the ball in your court.” She turned her body towards yours and your body turned all on its own to face her. “It sucks that someone, or multiple someones, hurt you so badly in your past that you’ve decided to make your ‘only fuck once’ rule, all to avoid developing any sort of connection or feelings for anybody ever again. It seems like your rule to avoid connection is hurting you more than you thought it would, so I know there’s hope,” Carol stood up abruptly to stand in front of you.
“You should be loving someone,” she finally said. “Just, fucking let yourself love someone.”
You sat there staring at her, heart beating out of your chest because you knew she was right. You stayed silent because you were scared of how much you have already started falling for her, and you were searching for the right thing to say.
Carol hung her head in defeat before turning to walk back down the path she came, pausing like she wanted to say something else, but changed her mind and began walking away from you.
~
“Carol?!” You called as you walked into the common room, “Carol! Where are you?”
“Can you stop yelling,” a gruff voice pleaded from the couch. “She’s not here.”
“Do you know where she is?” you asked, “Buck, I need to find her.”
“I think she went to a bar,” Bucky said with a sigh, realizing he wasn’t going to be able to continue napping.
“Thanks!” You said, running towards your room to change your clothes.
~
You had gotten FRIDAY to disclose which bar Carol was at, and sped through New York traffic on your bike, getting there in record time.
As you walked in, your eyes scanned the room looking for her. You walked over to the bar to ask the bartender if they’d seen her, and they pointed to the far side of the room. You looked her over, noticing how she was leaning up against the wall, talking to some gorgeous woman. It reminded you of the last time you slept together, how sexy she looked leaning up against her desk.
The song changed to Loving Someone by the 1975, bringing you back into the present. You watched her for a moment longer, gathering your courage when she looked past the woman in front of her and locked eyes with you. A smile tugged at her lips giving you the courage you needed to close the distance. You saw her say something to the woman who waved her off before she met you halfway.
You both stopped in the middle of the bar and she looked to you expectantly.
“You were right,” you admitted. “I made that stupid rule to try to protect my heart and I think I honestly caused it to break too many times.”
Carol raised an eyebrow, urging you to continue.
You let out a sigh, “Aaaand I like you and that scares me,” you admitted.
Carol smiled, “Well, then can I buy you a drink?”
You shook your head, pulling the keys out of your pocket, “I’m good. You wanna go for a ride?”
Carol’s smile stretched further over her lips and she nodded, so you took her hand and walked out of the bar.
Summary: Mission complete and you’re hiding out in a mountain cabin awaiting your next extraction window. What better for you and Steve to do to pass the time than fuck each other’s brains out? It’s all going awesomely until you’re interrupted.
Words: 1.4k
A/N: Written for @stuckonjbbarnes 250 follower celebration, dialog prompt: “You whined that he was alive, and you whine now that I killed him.” “There’s just no pleasing you, is there?” (In bold and underline) and combined with @star-spangled-bingo SSB2020 square filled: “I’m just trying to sound tough” (In bold).
Thank you to @sassy-pelican for reading this through for me <3 I had a lot of fun writing this smutfest. I hope you enjoy.
Warnings: INSECTS / MOTHS. Graphic depictions of sex. Rough sex. Mentions of past angst. Bad language. 18+ only!
Ref IMG for Mothra - don't click if you don’t like big ass insects!
Sweat beads in your hair line, threatening to trickle forth on a path that will take it down your temple, over the line of your jaw and down the taut curve of your neck. Breaths are expressed as sighs and moans, your sweat-slicked throat exposed to the breeze from the window, exquisitely cool in contrast to the heat flushing your whole body. Why is a cabin way up in the mountains so damn hot?
Steve tugs harder, his hand fisted in your hair pulling your head back, making you arch into an impossibly acute angle as he pounds you from behind. The depth of his thrusts and his punishing pace is obnoxiously punctuated by the wet slap of his skin meeting yours. He’s so deep it’s painful, the tip of his cock glancing against your sweet spot just enough to make it good for you right before he’s slamming your cervix ruthlessly. You’re sure your ovaries are already mush but it hurts so fucking good all you can do is not piss yourself.
Hands gripping the crumpled sheets that have seen too much action in the last two days to be sanitary, thighs quaking as you ride the ridge between euphoria and the strained tension of seeking it. You’re a mess, but you’re his mess. He hasn’t said so much but you’ve been together for months. The chemistry between you before the Chitari attack on New York exploded in a frenzied rut afterwards. It was as much survivor’s guilt as it was a celebration of your continued existence, and you’d been fucking ever since.
Steve grunts. A momentary break in the rhythm of his thrusts tells you he’s getting close, the swell of his cock against the heat of your cunt a prelude to your next orgasm; it’s been building for a while, struggling against the numbness of previous orgasms but it’s almost there now, right on the edge.
You cry out, a breath held too long escapes like a wail and your pleasure climbs further, crawling under your skin until there are tears in your eyes. It hurts but it’s exquisite and he knows he has you, he knows you’ll come when he does and that drives him crazy. That connection you have, that symmetry, it’s always been there in the way you work together, the way you fight, the way you take his cock like no one else ever has. It’s not love, but he needs you and he knows you need him too, and that’s enough.
“You like that? Huh?” He grinds out through gritted teeth, the aggression left over from your last mission is still there, not quite fucked away, yet. “You like it when I fuck you raw?”
You do. You like anything he gives you. From the tender care and caress of love-making to the sharp pain of pinched and slapped skin, and being used and fucked so hard you can’t remember your own name.
“Sir, yes Sir!” You wail through the pleasure, unable to stifle the noise the way he has you arched back. Breath ragged and throat raw from panting, you grin when he loses control; a surprised gasp of pleasure – you have never called him ‘Sir’ before, but he seems to like it.
“Fuck yes! Take my cock!” He all but roars as he makes you feel every inch of him.
The spasms start and you’re almost there, grunting and growling together as he starts to come. You can feel it, the pressure of his spunk being forced deeper with each thrust. You tighten even more, cresting the wave of pleasure with a high-pitched keening noise you never knew you could make.
Suddenly you’re pitched face-first into the mattress, empty and panicked as your orgasm slips away like water down a drain. Steve is spluttering and flapping his hands in the air, knocking the light so it casts erratic shadows around the room.
“JESUS-FUCK!” He shouts, hoarse and angry. You’ve never heard Steve swear anywhere except when he’s buried in you balls deep.
Tears are filling your eyes; the come-down from your failed euphoric high isn’t pretty. “What the FUCK, Steve?”
You watch him stumble off the bed and crash to the floor, struggling backward with his glistening erection slapping his thighs as he shuffles on his hands and ass. He looks terrified, backed up against the cabin wall scanning for some unknown horror. Anger gives way to your autonomic danger response. Purely on instinct you snatch up your handgun and aim where he’s pointing.
“It’s still alive!” He wheezes, wide-eyed with terror.
“What is?” You search frantically past the swinging lightbulb, anything that has him this scared can’t be good. “I can’t see anything!”
“Up there!” He squeals, cowering behind his arms and you finally see the beast; mottled brown and entirely too big to be natural.
It takes flight, dusty wings carrying it towards Steve once more in a slow attack that has him panicking more. He’s petrified and static, frozen by fright. Who knew Steve Rogers was afraid of moths?
You jump into action. Scooping up on of Steve’s discarded gauntlets you wield it like a flail, the stiff leather of the forearm acting as the beater. It’s a swing for the S&M hall of fame, and you strike the winged demon with as much force as you can muster. Pitching the huge critter out of the air, you won’t forget the dull smack it makes against the leather, nor the thump against cabin wall it hits right after.
Pouncing, you pulverise the giant moth against the wood floor with Steve’s blue leather until it’s nothing but dust and mangled limbs. Even dead it’s a chilling sight. A shiver slinks down your spine. You aren’t afraid of wildlife but that grotesque monstrosity gave you a case of the heebie-jeebies.
“You didn’t kill him, did you?” Steve asks curiously as he peeks at the dead moth.
“No, Steve,” you say flatly as you scoop the corpse up with Steve’s gauntlet, “Mothra over here is just taking a beauty nap – of course I killed him!”
“Poor thing.”
“Are you serious?” You’re shocked by his sudden compassion.
“I never said to kill him.”
“You whined that he was alive, and you whine now that I killed him.” You scoff incredulously. “There’s no pleasing you is there?”
“Well-”
“Should I try to revive him?” You thrust the corpse of Mothra towards Steve, who scrambles to his feet.
“No-no-no” he cautiously moves aside, “I’m just trying to sound tough, or at least tougher.”
“I’m totally convinced.” You chuckle as you dump Mothra out the window unceremoniously. “And now I think you owe me.” You smirk as an idea pops into your head.
“But-”
“Twice!” You stalk him backwards towards the bed, a predatory glint in your eyes.
“I don’t-”
“Once for the moth,” you back him up until his calves hit the frame, “and once for the ruined orgasm.” You push him and he falls, bouncing on the mattress with a wolfish grin. The realisation of what’s to come exciting him once more.
“Alright soldier,” Steve props himself up on his elbows to watch you climb up his body, “I’ll give you what you want.”
“Not this time.” You crawl up him until you’re straddling his chest. “This time I take what I want.”
He moans as you settle yourself on his face, his mouth smothered by your mound. The mess between your thighs is slicking his jaw and cheeks but he doesn’t seem to care as you grind yourself on him.
Licking and sucking and eager to please you, Steve devours you like his last meal. And as you look down the flat plane of your stomach to watch him you can’t help but smirk at the embellishment he’s sporting; a shimmery dusting of grey on his left cheek - Mothra’s kiss.
A light laugh escapes your lips as you race towards your climax. One final thought before you lose all coherent thought: Captain America is afraid of moths.
Summary: Sam will do anything to make you his, he’s tired of the back and forth and the fact you’re always taken. He just wants you to be his girl.
Warnings: fluff, alcohol, swearing, thats it.
Word Count: 1,484
A/N: This is a VERY late submission to Dani’s 250 writing challenge @stuckonjbbarnes I apologise for the lateness I love you lots and I hope this makes up for it (i promise I have more fluff for you to come) LOVE YOU BABE
Masterlist
~~~~~~~
“Are they fighting again?” Steve turns to Sam behind his cup of coffee, raising an eyebrow at his friend as they watch you rolling your eyes to whoever, they assume is your current boyfriend, at the table.
“Aren’t they always,” he sighs back.
“I can’t...I told you Zac I can't. I'm busy...I can do things WITHOUT YOU!...Does it matter?...I’m hanging out with Sam and the gang,” you bit your lip and tried not to look up at the men who you knew are in the kitchen.
Sam’s eyes widened as Steve looked at him as if to question if you did actually have plans together, you didn’t and Sam shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.
“What are we going to do?! You’re going to play video games all night with your friends and I’ll just sit there on my phone feeling like shit. I’m staying in tonight to hang out with my roommates okay. End of. Text me when you’ve stopped being a dick.”
~~~~~~~
“She used you as an excuse not to hang out with her boyfriend?” Bucky questions Sam as he spins in his desk chair while Sam is sprawled out across Bucky’s bed with a slight smile on his face.
“Yea! I was surprised that she used me because we didn’t have anything planned first of all, but I also don’t think she likes me that much like we have a sort of, I would say-”
“Banter, you two banter.” Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam and spun around again.
“I was going to call it a cute back and forth,” Sam points out.
“Get out of my room.”
“What’d I do?!”
“You’re being stupid. She has a boyfriend Sam,” Bucky was getting sick of this, he knew Sam had a crush on you. He also was aware you had a boyfriend, even if no one liked him. And Bucky knew that you were conflicted about the man in your life already. You didn’t need Sam making it any more complicated.
“Yea but he’s a dick, I could and would treat her better than him. I’m not going to stop Bucky, I’m going to make her mine. I’m going to make her my girl.” Sam was determined, you deserved the best and if it were up to him the best is what you would get. He wasn’t crazy like Bucky or Steve thought. There was something there between the two of you he knew that, you knew that. You just wouldn’t admit it. Why? Because you were roommates. Because you’d known each other since college. Because if anything happened and it blew up in your face you wouldn’t forgive yourself. Because you were with Zac, even if you were realising he was a piece of shit. They were always pieces of shit.
“Good luck.”
“I think you mean break a leg.”
“Please leave me alone.”
~~~~~~~~
A cute back and forth was a pretty good way to describe what you and Sam had. You had nicknames for each other, you always called him Sam I am and he always called you honey-pie. Always. You teased and went back and forth constantly. Whenever you talked there was never an opportunity for someone else to join the conversation because it moved so quickly and fluidly between you.
Sitting on Zac’s couch while he went on about something you had lost interest in twenty minutes ago you realised that it was so much better talking to Sam. Sam asked you about your day as soon as he saw you, he asked how you were doing, he remembered the things you told him about, he actually listened to you. He wanted you to talk to him, he encouraged you to be a part of conversations and as someone who was more of a listener than a talker you appreciated that. He always stopped and let you collect your thoughts before you talked. He made you feel listened to, made you feel that what you had to say, as random as it was, was important. Zac never did any of that.
You’d only been dating a few months but when you realised that, you called it quits. This isn’t how you should be feeling in a relationship and especially not this early. You didn’t tell the boys though. No one really mentioned it when you stopped going out twice a week to see him. Nobody pressed you for information. When the flat’s Halloween was being planned and they asked (mainly to confirm what they already knew) you simply told them.
“We broke up, no need to invite him,” and that was the end of that. You didn’t make a move with Sam, he didn’t make a move with you. You figured if it was going to happen it would. It didn’t.
The party came along and it was in full swing by midnight. The music blasting, drinking games going on in every other room.
“You don’t look like you’re having a good time,” Sam came up behind you as you leaned against the wall watching Bucky play beer pong against T’Challa. His front pressed against you as he watched over your shoulder.
“Two jocks going at it over beer pong? Pretty sure I’ve seen this before,” you joked and Sam chuckled, his head falling to your shoulder briefly.
“Come on honey-pie what’s on your mind that’s got you so blue?” You smirked as you turned to face him and Sam gladly smirked back, his hand on your hip. “That’s not the smile I was hoping for but I’ll take it. Come on, let’s get some snacks.”
He pulled you through the crowd into the kitchen and you sat on the bench with a bowl of pretzels on your lap and fed Sam while he refilled your drinks. The music shifted and you jumped off, starting to sway with the beat. Sam grabbed your hand and spun you as the lyrics started.
Ooh, girl, don't you stop
Don't you stop 'til you get enough, honey
Oh, honey, honey-pie, honey, honey, honey-pie
You spun and jumped with him to the song, your song as he called it, the reason he called you honey-pie because of the week straight you spent humming and playing it throughout the apartment.
As the first verse started Sam pulled you into him so your back was against his front and his arm around your waist holding your hand and he sang the lyrics in your ear.
“Ooh girl don’t you stop. Till you’re my girl, girl, and I won’t stop until you’re mine, girl. And you can’t stop until you’re mine, girl. And I can’t find out what you want, what you got. I got that honey-pie, come bite it.” He sang, his lips brushing over the skin behind your ear, your head moving to give him more access to your neck as his teeth scrapped down your pulse after the last line. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your jaw, his lips on your ear. “Oh honey-pie.”
You turned your body in his arms, his hands on your hips as your fingers crept up his chest and neck until they lingered on his jaw and then his lips were on yours and he was pressing you against the side of the fridge.
“Sam,” you breathed out as people pushed past the two of you causing him to press against you further. His thigh pushing between your legs until his entire body was touching yours.
“Honey-p” but he couldn’t get out his sentence before you were kissing him again. His hands moving all over, up your back, under your shirt until someone cleared their throat behind him and you jumped apart.
“Look I’m happy for the two of you, but get a fucking room. You have two to choose from just please don’t fuck in my kitchen!” Bucky grabbed a beer out of the fridge and rolled his eyes at the two of you while you held back a giggle in Sam’s arms.
“We pay rent too!” Sam quipped back but you were already pulling him down the hallway towards your room and as you pushed him into the room with a laugh from both of you you heard Bucky call out.
“I OWN THE HOUSE!”
Sam sat on the edge of the bed and pulled your hand until you sat on his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck loosely and his around your waist. He wore a goofy smile as he looked at you and his fingers ran under your shirt.
“What are you smiling at?” You asked him, tracing his cheekbones and Sam placed soft kisses on your palm as he hummed.
“My honey-pie,” and he leaned forward and kissed your collarbone, nuzzling into your neck.
Summary: Reader and Steve were dating for a long time until he decided to break things off with her because he felt like he was being suffocated.
Warnings: cuss words, angst, jealousy, and depression (I don't know what else)
Word Count: 1,423
A/N: Hello! Sorry I haven’t written in a while life has been interesting yet stressful, but I am trying to push myself into writing again because I miss it. Special thanks to @stuckonjbbarnes for letting my enter her 250 Writing Challenge, if you don’t already follower her please do because she is an awesome and amazing writer. Anyways please let me know if you wanna be tagged (or off this tag) and feedback is very much appreciated! Also this is unedited like always because I’m to lazy to quadruple check my work...
Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air?
“I don’t get why he has to be all touchy feely with you when I’m standing right next to you?!” Steve yelled slamming the door as you both entered your shared apartment.
You huffed with a hand over your forehead replying, “Steve I’ve told you this before me and Wesley are just coworkers. There’s no need for you to act up!”
“You don’t get it Y/N, I don’t want to see some guy being so close to my girlfriend.” he yelled back with his hands in the air.
“STEVE, Wesley is harmless!” you yelled back dropping you purse onto the couch.
“How am I supposed to know that he is harmless and whatever. What if his main purpose to get close to you is to fuck you?!” he said following your trail loosening his tie.
“He’s fucking gay Steve!” you yelled at him walking over to the kitchen.
“Fuck that he was trying to cop a feel Y/N! I saw it with my own eyes!” he exclaimed, walking towards the counter.
“Steve nothing is going on between me and Wesley for the thousandth time.” you said sighing rubbing your temples as a migraine starts to form.
“I find that hard to believe Y/N. You’re always getting home late from work because of all these quote un quote meetings with your team.” he says while using air quotes.
“Steve what the fuck am I suppose to do then? Huh? Quit my job and stay at home doing nothing with my life?” you yelled at your boyfriend.
“Peggy would have stayed done that.” he said under his breath thinking you wouldn’t her him.
“The fuck did you just say?” you looked at him dead in the eye. “Are you comparing me to your ex-girlfriend AGAIN, Steve?” he looked up at you with anger in his eyes.
“You know what, yes. You fucking heard me right Y/N.” He replied quickly to you fuming. “You’re always too fucking clingy when you get home from wherever you go. It's like I’m being suffocated by you. I can’t breathe whenever you’re near me.” he yelled staring at you.
Tears forming in your eyes and you refuse to let them fall down as you stare at the man you love. You look down at the counter in defeat and look back to him. Taking a deep breath you walk away from him to your room and gather all the necessary belongings you need. Steve still enraged looks at you and follows in your footsteps.
If I should die before I wake
It's 'cause you took my breath away
Losing you is like living in a world with no air, oh
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks with a strong tone.
“I’m leaving Steve because I can’t take this anymore. You accuse me of being what was it, oh right, clingy and you’re always comparing me to your beloved ex. So why don’t you call her and I'll leave you two be. How does that sound?” you yell at him finally gathering all your stuff and trying to wipe away the tears that have fallen down your face. You exit the bedroom walking towards the main door.
“Fine go then. I don’t need you.” Steve yells as he stops following you and sits on the couch staring at the blank TV screen.
“Fuck you Steve Rogers. I hope you have a happy life.” you yell while slamming the front door walking away from your once beloved apartment.
The sound of the door echoes throughout the entire apartment and that's what set Steve back into reality. What the fuck did I just do. He says to himself looking at his hands.
I'm here alone, didn't wanna leave
My heart won't move, it's incomplete
Is there a way I could make you understand?
“I fucked up Bucky” Steve said through the phone rubbing his temples.
“Steve, breathe. Just call (Y/N) back in the morning. Let her sleep it off.” Bucky replied to his friend.
“Fine. Whatever.” Steve said. “I’ll text you later.” he sighed and laid in his bed thinking of how upset he made you.
But how
Do you expect me, to live alone with just me?
'Cause my world revolves around you
It's so hard for me to breathe
*a month later*
Steve was a mess. He was trying to keep his cool around his friends, but on the inside he felt empty. Whenever his friends would ask about (Y/N) he kept to himself saying that the two of you weren’t meant to be, but that was a lie. He knew it was a lie. Right after you left he felt like his world collapsed. He felt so stupid mentioning Peggy yet another time. He knew whenever he talked about her that you would always get pissed off. Steve knew what ticked you off the most and used that against you. He fucked up hard. He felt like he was actually suffocating because you weren’t there with him. You were his world and fucked up so much. Why did I have to be such a dick? He said to himself.
Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air?
Can't live, can't breathe with no air
That's how I feel whenever you ain't there
There's no air, no air
*seven months later*
Steve was an even bigger mess than before. He isolated himself in his apartment still torn by the fact that he never called or texted you right after the fight. How could I be so stupid? He said over and over to himself. He knew he should stop thinking about you. He was the one that broke your heart. He was the one that fucked up. Bucky had been calling and texting him for the past months. Steve never answered and didn’t want to talk. It wasn’t until Bucky came to Steve’s apartment to checkup on his friend. Luckily he has a spare key just in case Steve forgot his. Bucky saw how trashed and gloomy Steve's apartment was.
“Shit. Steve?” Bucky said looking for his friend. Maneuvering around the mess walking towards his friend’s room. “Steve? You in there?” he asked while knocking on the door. No answer. He knocked again. “I’m coming in man. You better not be naked.” he joked pushing the closed door. He saw his friend covered in layers of blankets. “Fuck. Steve you gotta get up man.” No reply. “Right, well don’t let this get to you punk. Just please get out of here once in a while. It's too dark and depressing here. Get some fresh air.” Still no answer. “Well I’ll see you around Steve.” Bucky said as he exited the apartment.
Steve sighed as he sat up in his bed. Bucky was right, his life seemed life a mess. He should get out of the stupid apartment. He went into his bathroom and stared at his reflection. Man he looked like shit. He sighed staring at himself and turned around to turn on his shower.
After he made himself look more presentable than usual he walked to one of the nearby restaurants. Actually he went to the one that you cherished the most since they had the best waffles in all of Brooklyn. While walking to the small restaurant he passed a fancy one that he almost took you to. He looked through the windows and saw something. Someone. (Y/N). You were sitting at a table wearing an elegant dress, smiling at the person next to you. You looked like you were shining, you seemed so happy. You seemed happy. The man who was next to you grabbed your hand and smiled. His blue eyes staring at you with adoration and brought your hand to his lips giving it a gentle kiss. Steve stared at the two of you with tears in his eyes. You and your date (A/N: alright the man is Henry Cavill because i’ve been obsessed with the Witcher and oof him shirtless my lord. alright back to the story) looked so in love and peaceful. Steve couldn’t top that when he was with you. He couldn’t be the man you wanted him to be. He couldn’t be the one who would protect you, shelter you, love you. He wanted to do those things when he was with you. He tried his best to do all these things for you, but his stupid mouth got in the way. He hurt you. He drew you away. He made you leave. He needed to leave. He needed to not see you. So he ran.
I walked, I ran, I jumped, I flew right off
The ground and float to you
There's no gravity to hold me down, for real
He ran to the nearest bridge sitting on the edge. Tears slipping down his face. He couldn’t take it anymore. The pain was unbearable. He just wanted to stop feeling so empty, so alone, so alone. He looked down at the water staring at the reflection of the sky and himself. He wanted the pain to end. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Standing up and crossing over the railing, he leaned over the edge. One breath in. One breath out. He let go. He let go of everything. All of his emotions towards you, everyone else and himself. He let go of trying to love you, trying to forgive himself, trying to forget you. He let go and there was darkness.
Got me here out in the water so deep
Tell me how you goin' be without me?
If you ain't here I just can't breathe
There's no air, no air
A/N: so sorry for that lol. I’m thinking of making this a mini series possibly so a second part will come sometime in the future showing the readers POV. I don't know who wanted to be tagged so I just put those who were on my previous tags...Anyways if you wanna be tagged let me know and I’ll add you!
Summary: The summer fling you really could have done without
Warnings: language, issa lil angsty
AN: this was written for @stuckonjbbarnes & her first challenge, but im late pls forgive me 😭
Masterlist | Part Two
“Get out, Quill!”
“Star Lord.” he tried.
“That’s not cute anymore.” you deadpanned, “You’re also not a lord, you’re a thief.”
A few months ago you met Peter Quill, a non-alien alien womanizer, who you were finally realizing was a grade A asshole. He told you he came back to Earth for business, which you knew to be true, but he stayed for you. Which, in hindsight, wasn’t an absolute lie.
You were a trust fund baby, and it wasn’t like you went around bragging about it, but when you just so happen to attend a party hosted by Tony Stark and half the guest list saved the entire fucking universe, it was easy for Quill to get all the information he needed.
At first, he was just going to try and sleep with you, because what’s there to lose? But when Rocket found out about how much you worth and the connections you had, they both decided a Summer in New York probably wasn’t the worst idea.
“Yeah at first, but then I got to kno-” he tried pleading, but you weren’t hearing it.
“Don’t you even think about finishing that sentence! You’re standing in front of my safe, which is open, holding my favorite necklace… nothing you say is going to change that.” you moved out of the door way and pointed, telling him one last time he needed to leave.
Walking over to the safe, you pick up the jewelry Peter dropped, saving the necklace for last. It was more of a dainty choker, really, just a string of diamonds. There wasn’t anything special about it, but it was your favorite, you wore it everywhere. Which is probably why he thought it was so valuable. I should have listened to Tony. I shouldn’t have ignored the signs. I should have trusted my head and not my heart. This called for two things: ice cream and self-loathing, aka “Let’s look back on all the times you were a dumbass, YN”.
He won you over just by talking about his adventures in space, conveniently leaving out how illegal most of them were.You didn’t know about any of that until Tony noticed you hanging around Peter more, “This guys a professional con artist, YN. Just keep your eyes open and keep the rosey glasses off, okay?” “Yeah, well. I hope you’re wrong.” “Me too, kid.”
A few weeks later held one of the hottest days of the summer, so what else was there to do than host a small cookout? You invited a few friends from college, an avenger or two, Peter who refused to be called an avenger because iM gUaRdIaN oF tHe gAlaXy and his friends. But like every other time you invited them, they didn’t show up. Peter insisted it was because they would miss you too much when it was time for them to leave, but that wasn’t stopping him?
Skip to later that afternoon, you were laying on a pool floaty listening to Bucky chat up your old roommate. That’s right Bucky, chat up the history buff, feed that ego. But your attention was brought to your kitchen, “Hey Peter, come here.” He was eating still, and sitting right by the kitchen, maybe he heard something?
“Miss me already, beautiful?” he winked, sitting at the edge of the pool.
“In your dreams Quill.”
“tsk tsk, Starlord.” he corrected.
“Ah, yes, Starlord, this is probably more a job for you anyways.” you laugh, swimming over to him. “But seriously, I coulda sworn I saw something move in my kitchen. You were right there, did you hear anything? I’m worried an animal accidently got in, it’s happened before.”
“I didn’t, but I can go check if you want me to?”
“You’d do that?”
“I’d do anything for you, YN.”
He eventually came back and said if something got in, there wasn’t any sign of it. But what you didn’t know was that it was actually Rocket you saw. He was scoping out the inside of your house, looking for all your hiding spots, figuring what he was going to take and how he was going to take it.
And of course you didn’t know that, Peter wouldn’t have told you that he found his friend in your house. Because that would mean telling you the truth about everything, but that would mean telling you the truth. That, yeah, he has feelings for you..now. But he wasn’t ready to tell you that you were a job, and he couldn’t only be half honest with you. Either all of it was a lie or none of it was.
After that night, you started noticing things going missing over the week, weird things. A watermelon, your bottle of conditioner, half of your knives, and one of your charm bracelets were missing from your dresser. When you checked your security cameras and nothing came up, you decided it was time to call Tony. He informed you that someone hacked your security feed, but that he could fix and improve it for you.
Which is how you found yourself here, eating ice cream out of the carton, crying over your kinda boyfriend from space.
You had been out all day running errands, and thankfully you were getting home sooner that planned. Which means Peter can come over sooner, too. When you were pulling into your neighborhood though, you got an alert that your security feed was being tampered with again. Tony made it to where you could see live, and whoever was hacking it would think they were getting away with it still. When you opened the live feed of your bedroom, you never expected to see Peter opening your safe (on his first try) and take out your belongings.
It wasn’t even worth fighting him about, you were a love drunk idiot who let him con his way into your life and it was time for you to just sober up and pretend he didn’t exist.
And you should probably call Tony and see if he could just help you find a new house, one where Peter wouldn’t be able to find you.
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: Language, Bucky having a mood.
A/N: Submitting this for @stuckonjbbarnes 250 writing challenge!! Had so much fun writing this, and pleased to be finally posting it!!
Prompt: “I’m funny how? Funny like I’m a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh? I’m here to fucking amuse you? What do you mean funny? Funny how? How am I funny?”
Taglist is open // Requests are open // Masterlist
Another day in the office, another day in the compound surrounded by superheroes who did nothing but argue with each other the entire day.
And by each other, it was usually you and Mr. Barnes.
You rubbed your temples trying to ease the headache. You were actually used to being Bucky's target. He would find any reason to scream at you. Last week you were yelled at by him because you forgot to wash your dishes and he ended up doing them for you. Unfortunately, you were known for your occasional pranks and saw an opportunity you couldn't resist.
Eggs were out of date by a week, Sam was flying around testing his new suit upgrade when you childishly threw the rotten eggs at him, but you missed and the eggs smashed in Bucky's face and trapped in between the plates of his metal arm. You had a long lecture from Bucky but made no attempts to stifle your laughter while he yelled inches from your face earning a cold glare from Bucky.
You were currently seated on the comfortable large corner couch Tony had very generously bought (and one side was already broken from when an argument between Bucky and Sam heated up), with your legs tucked underneath you trying to concentrate on the words from your book in front of you. Instead, you have read the same lines over and over again and still not registering what they said.
Bucky walked into the kitchen and you could tell by his strut he was in one of his bad moods. It didn't help that you might have pulled yet another prank and switched his coffee for gravy. After he spat the fluids out, he turned into a hulk, immediately locking eyes on your sitting form.
"Y/N!!!" He roared. "You're the most annoying person in this fucking tower!" Bucky kept yelling.
Don't provoke him, don't provoke him Y/N just say you're sorry.
"You're the most annoying person in this fucking tower." You mimicked him in a high-pitched childish voice.
Ugh, well-done Y/N.
His nostrils flared, and good god if looks could kill he would have killed you months ago.
"SHUT UP Y/N AND STOP ACTING LIKE A FUCKING CHILD! DO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?" He stalked closer waving his empty mug around and threw it against the wall behind you, and you would have been scared and jumped over the back of the couch by now but you were aware Steve was in the kitchen keeping an eye on things, he would interfere if Bucky got too physical towards you.
But that's what surprised you, Bucky told you every single day he hated you and you annoyed the shit out of him without even trying, going as far as telling you how worthless you are to the team. You kept your head high but his words did hurt and you didn't know what you did to make him so volatile towards you. You kind of figured if he was allowed and there were no restrictions, he would kill you with no hesitation.
"I thought the coffee prank was very funny." You mumbled but he heard you.
He stalked closer, hands scrunched up into fists by his side. He was right in front of you and you kept your glance on his stomach.
"Buck, stop," Steve called out as a warning.
Bucky stepped back, not realizing the table in the middle of the room was so close behind him, and he ended up falling backwards into it, shattering the once beautiful piece of furniture into broken pieces.
That probably wasn't funny, he could have hurt himself, but his face of utter shock and surprise was priceless, his senses should have picked up these kinds of things so he wouldn't alert his enemies. Your stifled laugh turned into a snort and when Bucky was helped up by Steve he glared at you again.
"I'm sorry." You apologized, hands up in surrender. "You're just funny, I can't help it." You smirked.
His nostrils flared open like a hippo’s, clenching and unclenching his fist as his voice dripped with such venom, "I'm funny how? Funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh? I'm here to fucking amuse you? Funny how? How am I funny? Because I don't fucking understand Y/N, how is putting pink hair dye in my shampoo funny? Or putting hair remover in my shower gel? Or me falling into a wooden fucking table funny to you? If I’m so fucking amusing to you, maybe I should find a career in the fucking comedy business." He ranted. Steve holding him by the shoulder to keep the distance, but you could tell Steve was doing his best to hide his grin at the pranks Bucky just listed.
Your eyebrow quirked up. And then you remembered it. How could you not? It was one of your favorite movies.
"Did you just....did you just quote Goodfellas?" You smirked.
Bucky blinks for a moment, shaking Steve from his shoulder and assuring him he's okay now.
Not that Bucky would ever physically hurt you. He saw you as his annoying little sibling who seemed to go out of their way to piss him off.
"I uh..no." he blushed. Wait he blushed?
"Oh my GOD you did! That's one of my favorite movies." You had a grin on your face and for once it was genuinely for Bucky.
He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and sighed.
"It's mine too." He said loud enough for you to hear.
Nodding your head and keeping a smile, you thought for a moment and you couldn't believe the words that were about to leave your mouth, but you wanted this constant-old-married-couple fighting to stop, you were tired.
"Do you maybe wanna watch it sometime? Together?" You asked nervously, fidgeting with the corner of the page from your book.
You can see the hesitation in his face. You don't get along, of course, he doesn't.
"Sure." He smiled, nodding his head.
You went to his room to watch the movie and for a good while it was going great until he went into his bathroom to brush his teeth. You cleared up the candy wrappers on the bed and threw them in the trash when he screamed your name.
Your eyes were wide with shock. What did I do now?
He strutted from the bathroom, his face red with anger.
"Did you fucking put moisturizer in my toothpaste?!" He gritted through his teeth.
Oh. My. God. You had totally forgotten that. He turned his back for a minute when you seized the opportunity to run for the door. Only you couldn't outrun the super-soldier, his arms grabbed your waist as you sprinted past and pressed your back tight to his stomach seeing he was taller than you. Your hands gripped his that were firmly holding you to him, you were visibly shaking because he has never been physical, but you were alone with him and Steve wasn't here to help you.
"Bucky, please please I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You tried pleading before and knew it doesn't work on him.
He chuckled in your ear, "Oh, doll you’re in trouble now."
