Just a fluffy little thought. A grumpy, moody, broody Bucky, moping and grumbling through the compound with a scowl on his face. He was restless and annoyed the whole jet ride home. He tosses his bags off to the side, throwing off his tactical gear without a care in the world and Sam and Nat are utterly baffled because the mission was a complete success. Bucky's plan worked perfectly, his strategies were what got them in and out, he'd even saved a group of civilians that were unexpected.
Why was he grumpier than usual?
Because something is not right.
Everyone gathers for dinner and he barely takes a bite. He's shifting his food around his a fork before getting up and sitting on the couch instead with his arms across his chest and shoulders tensed. No one breathes a word, letting him storm to himself. Except you. You'd noticed Bucky's less than pleasant attitude but it doesn't scare you and you felt bad seeing him sitting by himself clearly stewing over something.
Maybe you had a crush on the soldier too. Maybe.
"Hey" You give him a soft smile as you take a seat beside him, still giving him space, "You okay?"
He gives you a shrug in response but that was normal with Bucky. You'd check in again and if he still didn't want to talk, you'd leave him alone.
"What's wrong"
Usually his standard answer of telling people to fuck off was easy but not with you. Never with you. Not when you turn him into a pile of mush and fluff. Bucky's grumpy face turns more into a pout as he contemplates telling you what's been making him so mad.
"My tummy hurts" he mumbles and you have to hold every fiber of your body together to keep from melting into a puddle because he could have said he felt unwell. Stomach pain. Stomach ache.Felt sick. Felt off. He could have said absolutely any other variation of what he was feeling but no.
The poor, grumpy, angry soldier was huffy and puffy because of a tummy ache.
"I'm sorry bub" you coo, not even realizing what you'd called him,"What would make you feel better?" You ask but Bucky doesn't actually know the answer. When he usually felt queasy he'd just grit it out until it went away.
"When I was little, my ma would make me some soup" He wasn't sure if it actually cured anything but he remembered it always being the yummiest thing he'd tasted and the one thing that made him feel all better. "But that was for when I had a cold"
"What about for tummy aches" You asked, noting the way the soldiers cheeks turned pink, his fingers fidgeting with each other. Of course he knew what his ma would do for his little achy belly but it's not like you could help...
"Um, sometimes she'd tuck me in bed and then.."
"Then?" You cock your head in curiosity while Bucky's voice dies on his tongue.
"Then she'd rub my tummy till I went to sleep" He rushes out with a small voice while keeping his eyes trained on his hands. His eyes grow wide at the giggle you let out, worried he'd made a complete idiot of himself, what were you to do with that information, it's not like you'd-
"C'mere" You take his hand gently in yours, gauging his reaction before moving him to lay his head on your lap. Bucky's stomach is now a mess of butterflies and whatever was upsetting him, his muscles melting into Jello as soon as you'd touched him. "Is this okay?" Your hand rests closer to his hip than right on his stomach and Bucky is barely able to squeak out a yes along with a quick nod.
You hum, moving your hand to rub soft circles around his tummy, his firm muscles under making you giddy on the inside. You recollect your nerves, focused on soothing motions, your other hand moving to play with Bucky's hair. You card your fingers through his short chestnut locks, smiling at the way he closes his eyes, his breathing starting to slow, muscles releasing their tenison.
"Better?" You whisper, giggling to yourself at the deep purr he made in response, relaxing with your gentle ministrations. He rolls over, smushing his face against your stomach, far too relaxed to care. The soft snores that follow after let you know the remedy certainly worked. As soon as you move your hand away, he blindly reaches out, placing it right back where it belongs and going back to sleep immediately after, tummy ache all gone, flutterly little butterflies replacing them. He's already dreaming of all the ways he could return the favour.
Isn't he an absolute precious baby.
So cute.
Bonus scene:
Of course the team gawk at what they see; the grumpy soldier now happy as a clam on your lap.
"What's wrong with him?"
"Bucky's tummy hurts" You reply with a smile and honestly the answer sends everyone into chaos.
"Awww Buckyyyy"
"So that's why he was so grumpy. Should've known when he kept pouting everytime we had turbulence"
"AWWWW The winter soldier as a widdle tummy ache?" Sam coos, only to silence his cackles when Bucky's eyes shoot open, staring daggers at him. "Don't give me that look when you're curled up on y/n's lap like a cat"
"Does rubbing it help ya feel all better-oh fuck"
Bucky's glare sends everyone scrambling right out, the empty room leaving him all content again.
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, bucky is a bit of an asshole at the start, upset reader, happy ending, bucky realizing he was a dick, worry, enemies to lovers trope, teammates to lovers trope.
Requests: OPEN!
Notes: hey guys the is my first story I'm writing that isn't a headcanon, hope you guys like it
summary: You and Bucky Barnes are teammates on the Thunderbolts, but from the start, he treats you coldly—snapping at you, calling you reckless, and making you feel like a liability. His harsh words echo your past, where people always told you that you weren’t enough. The tension between you grows until, during a mission, you throw yourself into danger and Bucky nearly loses you. Confronted with the thought of your death, he realizes how much his words have hurt you and how deeply he actually cares. After opening up about his own fears of losing people, Bucky softens—slowly shifting from bitter teammate to someone who protects, comforts, and eventually falls in love with you.
The mission was over, but the silence in the safehouse was suffocating. You sat at the edge of the cot, still replaying the gunfire in your head, the way the enemy’s hands had nearly dragged you under. You’d done everything right, but it hadn’t mattered—you’d needed backup. And Bucky had been the one to pull you out.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t been subtle about how he felt about it.
“Could’ve gotten yourself killed out there,” Bucky had snapped the moment the doors shut behind you both. His voice was sharp, biting, the kind of tone that cut deeper than the wounds on your skin. “You think you can just charge in without thinking? You’re a liability when you do shit like that.”
You froze, your chest tightening. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “I didn’t—”
“You didn’t what? Think? You clearly didn’t.” He scoffed, throwing his gloves on the table. “You’re supposed to be on this team, not dragging us all down with your reckless crap.”
His words stung worse than the gash on your arm. You turned away before he could see your eyes glaze over, pretending to fuss with the medkit. You weren’t reckless. You’d trained for this. But he said it with such venom that a small part of you wondered if he was right—if maybe you didn’t belong here at all.
That night, sleep didn’t come easy. Memories from your past clawed up—the nights spent fighting for scraps, the people who told you you’d never make it, never be enough. You’d fought tooth and nail to prove them wrong, and still, here was Bucky Barnes, the man who’d survived the worst of history, confirming every fear you carried.
The next morning, you barely looked at him. And for the first time, Bucky noticed.
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At first, he thought it was a relief. Less bickering, less tension in the air. But when the silence stretched on, when you stopped cracking sarcastic comments at his expense, when you didn’t meet his eyes during briefing—it started to gnaw at him.
And then came the mission two weeks later.
Pinned behind cover, bullets spraying overhead, Bucky glanced over at you. Normally you’d have thrown him a sharp grin, something reckless and infuriating that made him want to strangle you and shield you all at once. But now—your face was blank. Focused, cold. He couldn’t read you anymore, and that scared him more than the firefight.
When you dove forward to draw fire away from the others, his heart stopped. He saw flashes—memories of watching people fall because he hadn’t moved fast enough, hadn’t said the right thing. He sprinted after you, metal arm catching you by the vest and hauling you back just as a bullet grazed where your head had been.
“What the hell was that?!” he shouted once you were safe behind cover.
You looked him dead in the eyes, your voice flat. “Reckless, right? Don’t worry. I’m used to being the liability.”
The words cut through him like a knife. And for once, Bucky had nothing to say.
────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────୨ৎ────
That night, when the team finally got some rest, Bucky couldn’t sit still. He kept pacing the safehouse kitchen, the guilt gnawing at his chest. He’d thought being hard on you would keep you sharp, would keep you safe—but all he’d done was push you away.
When he finally found you, you were sitting alone on the roof, knees tucked to your chest. The night air was cold, but you didn’t flinch when he sat down a few feet away.
For a while, he said nothing.
then..
“I shouldn’t have said those things.”
You kept your eyes on the stars. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” he said quickly said. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration pulling at his features. “I’ve lost too many people already. And the way you threw yourself into danger—I… I panicked. I thought if I pushed you, you’d—hell, I don’t know—stay alive.”
You turned to look at him, your eyes tired. “Bucky, I’ve heard people call me reckless my whole life. I’ve been told I’m not enough more times than I can count. I thought… maybe here, with this team, I could prove otherwise.”
His chest tightened. For a long moment, he just stared at you, seeing past the sharp words and walls you both built. He saw the exhaustion, the weight of a past that looked too much like his own.
“You already prove it,”
he said softly, almost desperately.
“Every damn day. And I’ve been too much of an asshole to see it.”
You blinked, thrown by the vulnerability in his voice.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, his jaw tight, his voice raw. “Not to some mission. Not to my own stupidity. You… you matter more than I let myself say.”
Silence stretched between you. Then, slowly, you leaned your head against his shoulder. He stiffened for a second, then melted, letting his arm curl protectively around you.
The stars burned quietly above you, and for the first time in weeks, the heaviness in your chest lifted just enough to breathe.
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From that night on, Bucky softened. He still barked orders on missions, still grumbled when you teased him—but there was something different now. When nightmares dragged you awake, he was there, steady as stone, murmuring that you were safe. When you doubted yourself, he reminded you in his own gruff way that you were stronger than anyone gave you credit for.
And when you finally let him see the cracks in your armor—the same cracks he’d spent years trying to hide—he didn’t turn away. He held them like they were something worth protecting.
Enemies, teammates, lovers—it didn’t happen overnight. But it happened.
Because Bucky Barnes may have been an asshole at the start, but when it came down to it, he couldn’t bear the thought of a world where you weren’t in it. And he’d fight tooth and nail to make sure you knew it.
-the end
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don't forget to comment, like, and reblog ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
hope you guys liked the story, wasn't really sure what I was writing but ended up with a fluffy angsty story which is the 2 things I love the most. Add me on Instagram (only if you are 18 and older) if you want to become closer friends or think about collabing and writing a story together! Instagram: enochsdoll
I promise I’ll be done requesting things soon 😭😭😭 but man you just have a way with words. Okay??? Talent. Pure talent.
anyhow, today we need to see Bucky and a reader who never sleeps. I mean never. And after a particularly hard, brutal, gut-wrenching mission, she falls asleep on his chest. For the first time in months (despite sleeping in the same bed bc. Married!bucky might be the reason I haven’t died yet) reader is actually fully unconscious. Sadly, it happened on the couch, not the bed. So now we get an hourly play-by-play of the seventeen hours Bucky has to keep the other members of the team from waking you up. John nearly ruins it by making a grilled cheese and setting it on fire. Ava just.. stares. Yelena laughs. John laughs too. Bucky nearly murders them all.
and when reader finally wakes up? The cutest, sleepy conversation buckys ever gotten. Full mumbling. “Whys the light there, Buck?” “Because it’s daytime, doll.” “Turn it off.” All the thunderbolts are shocked because reader doesn’t usually grin like she’s high, but alas.
I totally get if you can’t do this!!! Just a thought!! Have a wonderful day and I hope that when you do your laundry you can always find both socks.
:D
First of all: never stop requesting things 😭😭😭 This was an actual delight to write.
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They’d been home three minutes. Maybe four.
Bucky hadn’t even shrugged off his jacket yet—still stained with smoke and dust and a little blood that wasn’t his—when you collapsed onto the couch with a quiet, “I’m fine. Just need a second.”
And then you didn’t move.
Not in the usual “I’m staring into the void” way you did after missions. Not in the tight, coiled, on-edge tension you always carried. You were… still. Breathing soft. Heavy. And your face—god, your face was peaceful. Soft mouth, furrowless brow. The faintest crease from where it pressed against his chest.
You were asleep.
You never slept.
Bucky didn’t move for the first fifteen minutes, afraid even the rise of his chest might jostle you awake. But after twenty, then thirty… then an hour… he realized.
You were out. Dead asleep. For the first time in months.
And there was no way in hell he was going to let anyone mess that up.
Hour 2
Ava walked in, paused mid-step, and tilted her head at you like you were some rare animal on display.
“She breathing?”
Bucky gave her a slow, measured look. “Yes.”
“You look like you’re in pain.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Because if you wake her up, I’ll have to commit a felony.”
She blinked. “Noted.”
Then she sat down on the arm of the couch and just stared. For twenty-six minutes.
Hour 4
Yelena tiptoed in and promptly burst into quiet giggles.
“I can’t believe she’s actually asleep on you,” she whispered.
“Yeah. Me either.” Bucky didn’t even try to hide the awe in his voice.
Yelena leaned in to inspect your face. “She looks stoned.”
“She’s not.”
“She looks it.”
“She’s just happy,” Bucky said softly, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Finally.”
Yelena left—but not before taking a picture. “For science,” she winked.
Hour 6
John Walker tried to make a grilled cheese.
Keyword: tried.
The smoke alarm went off approximately 5.6 seconds after he turned the burner on high and then walked away. Smoke filled the kitchen. Bucky launched off the couch, gently shifting your weight and sprinting to rip the battery out of the alarm.
You stirred. Your brow crinkled.
Bucky swore under his breath.
John appeared in the hallway, holding a slightly charred triangle of cheese-death. “My bad.”
“She was asleep for six hours,” Bucky growled. “Six. Hours. Do you know what kind of miracle that is?”
“I was hungry—”
“She hasn’t slept more than forty-five minutes in weeks.”
“She—wait, she’s asleep?”
Bucky pointed at you, now curled in the blanket Ava had draped over you while he’d been smoke-alarm-wrangling. “You ruined grilled cheese. I will ruin your life.”
John backed away slowly.
Hour 10
You snored. Lightly. Once.
Bucky almost wept.
Hour 13
He hadn’t moved from the couch. At some point, someone had brought him a water bottle and a protein bar like he was a zoo exhibit.
Yelena came back with her laptop and set up across the room.
Ava walked in again, stared for a bit, and whispered, “Do you think she’s dreaming?”
John walked in and whispered, “Do you think I can still make another sandwich?”
Bucky stood.
They left.
Hour 17
You stirred.
Not a full-body jolt. Not a nightmare. Just… the tiniest of shifts.
Your head rolled slightly against Bucky’s chest, lips parted with a soft exhale, and then—
“Whys the light there, Buck?”
His heart swelled so hard he almost choked on it.
He leaned down, brushing his nose against your hair. “Because it’s daytime, doll.”
You grunted. “Turn it off.”
“I can’t turn off the sun, sweetheart.”
“Hmph.”
Your hand found his shirt, fisted in it weakly. You snuggled closer.
A few beats passed. Your voice was so faint it was almost inaudible.
“I missed you.”
“I’m right here,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”
“Mmm. Couch’s dumb.”
“I agree.”
“Take me to bed.”
He stood gently, scooping you up with practiced ease. You curled into his arms like you’d never known tension. Your legs dangled sleep-heavy, arms looped around his neck.
“You smell like mission,” you mumbled into his collar.
“You smell like drool.”
“Rude.”
He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?”
Later
As he eased you under the covers, fresh shirt swapped in, you blinked up at him with bleary eyes.
“That was… a good one,” you whispered.
“A good sleep?”
You nodded. “Best one I’ve had since…” You didn’t finish the sentence. Just smiled. “Thanks for making it quiet.”
“You earned every second.”
Outside the bedroom, a pan clattered to the floor.
Your eyes narrowed.
Bucky kissed your temple. “Want me to kill them?”
“No,” you yawned. “But maybe ban John from cheese.”
“Done.”
You smiled again—drunk with sleep, flushed and happy in a way he hadn’t seen in ages.
He stared at you, awe-struck.
“I love you, Buck.”
“I love you too, doll.”
Then, with one last little murmur—something that sounded vaguely like “sun’s dumb too”—you curled into his chest again and fell back asleep.
Somebody I Was Destined to Meet -- Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader
Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Female Reader(codename Gemini)
Summary: Bucky Barnes doesn’t get you, how you’re so happy…all the time. He’s never been like that, never been all that happy or cheery and yet…you won’t stop. So when the two of you have to spend a week together on a long and drawn out mission, all this sunshine starts to infect him and he doesn’t like the man he’s becoming when you get too close. Happy, carefree and oh so horribly vulnerable.
Tags: grumpy Bucky, sunshine reader, angst, hurt/comfort, mission, close proximity, Bucky has a nightmare, revenge dress(lol), tension, mutual pining, reader calls Bucky doll(I'm serious, it's great).
Warnings: Swearing, implied smut, mentions of experiences with assault and an attempted one(not Bucky), mentions of past torture, injuries and coma.
Words: 8230
AN: Bucky again!! GOD....I love this fic lol and him. I wrote it...in one day haha...I couldn't stop. I got the idea last night after I finished the wife one...didn't stop till it was done and I think it may be my best work. It's also trope central, so many show up and I hope that you enjoy it!!! The reader also has powers, she can copy abilities like Taskmaster but more instant and can read and manipulate emotions! Title is based on the song Granite, by Sleep Token, have a listen!! I feel it fits him quite well.
“Somebody I Was Destined to Meet”
“Well, I was more than just a body in your passenger seat. And you were more than just somebody I was destined to meet”
For the life of him, James “Bucky” Barnes couldn’t understand how people could be so damn happy. Maybe it was his career in politics that made him such a cynic or reliving all his worst moments in the Void, but for the moment, he was a lot grumpier than normal. The entire team could see it, they’d been walking on eggshells since they were announced as the New Avengers, scared of pissing him off and unlocking a dormant piece of Winter Soldier still lingering in the back of his mind. They also all knew it was getting ridiculous so when Val told them about a mission for two of them in Prague that would last a week, the team came up with a plan and that plan involved you.
You were part of the initial wave of Avengers all the way back in 2012 and were present in the vault when they all found Bob, saw Bucky shoot the limo and were in awe of him like everybody else was. He wasn’t your biggest fan to say the least and while the rest of the team talked to him with bated breath, in fear he was going to snap, you spoke to him like he was a new best friend. A ray of sunshine is what people called you, someone always ready to crack a joke or smile when there really was no reason to and Bucky…hated it. He hated the constant grin on your face, the way you lit up every room you walked into and seemed to radiate sunshine no matter the circumstances.
For he was confused more than anything and couldn’t seem to understand how someone could be that happy all the time. But that was perfect and Yelena, ever the schemer, already had a plan in motion when you mentioned being interested in the mission. You’d always wanted to see Prague and Europe in general, so a week-long pretty straightforward reconnaissance mission felt like the perfect opportunity. Yelena grinned wide when you mentioned it and tracked Bucky down late that afternoon, spotting him reading a book in the library on one of the lower floors, brows furrowed like always.
“I see you,” he muttered and didn’t even look up as she sighed.
“Come on.”
“You’re not subtle,” he said and Yelena sighed as he removed his feet from the other chair so she could sit.
“Well…I wasn’t trying to be.”
“What do you want?”
“We have a mission,” she said and Bucky eyed her, grabbing his phone but she nabbed it first as he glared. “It’s not on the group chat, it’s a special one and only for two people. I signed you up.”
“What is it?”
“A week long reconnaissance mission in Prague to seek out an organized crime syndicate and it all ends with a fancy gala on the last day,” she said and he sighed, not liking the sound of that one bit. “Look…you go in, make nice with the criminals and then waltz your way into their gala/auction and shut it down from the inside.”
“Who’s going? I’m not spending a week with Walker.”
“Trust me, no one wants that,” Yelena muttered and he couldn’t help but agree. “Gemini volunteered.”
Bucky froze. Gemini. He knew that code name, it was yours and he also knew that was worse than being stuck with Walker for a week. Being around someone that happy for that long was going to kill him and he glared as Yelena smiled.
“No.”
“I already signed you up,” she said and Bucky groaned, standing and rotating his metal arm since it had gone a bit stiff. “Come on. It’ll be fun!”
“No it won’t.”
“She’s not that bad,” Yelena shot back and Bucky eyed her.
“Maybe for you.”
“What do you have against happiness?”
“I have something against it when not even the Void seemed to affect her,” he shot back and remembered the look on your face when you got out of the Void, like nothing had even happened.
He was subjected to his worst memories, moments buried so deep they had been turned into fossils in his own memories and yet…the Void brought them back. Falling off that bridge in the 40s, all those moments at HYDRA…even killing Tony Stark’s parents made an appearance. Bucky wasn’t smiling when he got out of that Void, he was just as bitter as he had been before it, even more so and was in no position to smile and joke, look happy. He had no idea what you saw, it could’ve been anything but anyone that could smile after it was messed up in his books and he didn’t feel like spending a week with someone like that.
“Look…she wants to do this, she’s never seen Europe.”
“Tell her it’s beautiful and send Walker,” he shot back and began to walk off when Yelena grabbed his hand.
“Bucky…”
“No.”
“Bucky…please, you need this.”
“Oh yeah, sure.”
“Don’t you see how the team has been acting around you, like you're made of glass and are gonna shatter at any second.”
“Maybe I have…”
“Good, then go, have fun with her and show her Prague. Maybe you’ll even have a good time.”
“And if I don’t…”
“You can be as grumpy as your old man heart desires,” Yelena shot back and patted him on the back before heading out of the library as Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
A week with you. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe the mission would calm the constant cheer and he could catch a break, get out of his head for a week instead. Or it could be horrible and Bucky was under the assumption the latter was a hell of a lot more likely.
Prague, Day One
A mission with Bucky Barnes and only him sounded like a dream to you since you knew Steve and had heard the stories he used to tell people of his old friend and how together they punched a bunch of Nazi’s. You were enamored every time he would ramble about him and getting a chance to see him in person was a dream way back after the vault fiasco. Sure he flipped the limo and tied you all up but it was still impressive and even now you couldn’t help but admire him from afar. Sure he was grumbling about the size of the apartment Val had rented, only a one bedroom and the rest was pretty tiny but even his grumbles were cute.
Cute wasn’t the word that most people used to describe him but you couldn’t help it, it was the first one that came to mind. Sure he looked angry half the time, always frowning or running his metal fingers through his hair but hey…even a frown could be cute. One of your abilities was detecting emotions and you could feel the annoyance radiating off of him when he got close to you or the anger when you attempted to crack a joke and lighten up the situation. Even now, as you dropped a couple bags of groceries on the counter with a wide grin, Bucky was there with an aura of madness hanging around him like a cloud.
“I got all the good stuff,” you said and began to load up the small fridge as he grumbled in acknowledgement. “I got gnocchi, the best pasta, and some pesto and chicken for tonight. And then they had a deal on fresh pasta so we have some of that and steaks since Yelena mentioned you liked them and I can make a mean steak on the stovetop…trust me. We can also order in for one of the days and of course there’s a dinner planned with the guy so that knocks off another meal.” He grumbled again and the annoyance got more prominent as you frowned. “I also got a case of beer since we need something to take the edge off and some snacks, just cause.”
“Great.”
“All that and all I get is a ‘great’?” you asked and he turned.
“Yep.”
“Okay,” you muttered and grabbed one of the beers before claiming the couch and grabbing your Kindle, a truly prized possession. “So…what did Val say the first step was?”
“Watch the apartment building across the street.”
“Okay…for what?”
“Movement.”
“Great, I’ll be zoning out with a book,” you said and held up the Kindle as he grumbled…again. “You know…we could make the time go by faster if you were willing to speak to me.”
“I’m not,” he snapped and you frowned.
“Why not?”
“I have nothing to say.”
“You’ve been alive for close to 120 years and you have nothing to say,” you shot back and he glared at you. “Come on…humour me this once and I’ll never bother you again.”
“Sure you will.”
“I’ll leave you alone for a day,” you offered and he sighed, leaving behind his perch by the window and sitting on the couch as you grinned. “See…I don’t bite.”
“Sure,” he muttered and sighed, running his metal hand through his hair, a hobby you could appreciate, since that hair wasn’t half bad. “What do you want to know?”
“I know most of your story,” you said and remembered looking back and reading about Vienna and Berlin, all the fun you missed out on. “Tell me something that’s not in the news.”
“Like…someone I killed in secret.”
“No…like a fun fact about yourself like a normal person,” you shot back and he sighed.
“Alright…Uh…I really like lemon flavoured things.”
“Really?”
“Cakes, cookies, cocktails…anything with lemon,” he said and you smiled, running off to the kitchen as he eyed you.
You too were a fan of lemons and lemon flavoured things, always had been and would tell anyone that lemon sorbet was a million times better than any ice cream on the planet. So when you spotted a lemon and white chocolate cookie in the nearest Aldi your eyes widened and you grabbed a couple boxes of them. You had no idea that Bucky liked lemons, you knew close to nothing about him so it was a happy accident and you hoped something that could melt his frozen heart just a bit.
“Here,” you said and handed him the bag.
“How’d you know?”
“They’re the best,” you said and he cracked the smallest smile he could before tearing into the pack and grabbing one, handing them over as you did the same.
“So…you were a part of the original Avengers,” he said and you nodded.
“I was.”
“But you weren’t anywhere else,” he observed and you sighed, hoping to keep the horrid backstory for maybe day two or three.
“Yeah…that wasn’t intentional,” you said and he eyed you. “I have the ability to replicate other people’s abilities and I was standing on a rooftop with Clint Barton, having replicated Steve’s strength just in case and some of Clint’s accuracy. It was great, I was killing off chitauri, making a difference…but…the super strength failed me a bit when I stumbled back and right over the edge of the building. I tried to grab onto something, stop myself but I fell close to thirty stories, I didn’t die, I got knocked into a coma and was supposed to wake up in 2018.”
“Then Thanos happened.”
“Turns out coma patients weren’t exempt from the snap and I woke up in 2024, shortly after you defeated the Flag Smashers with Sam. Everyone I knew was either dead or gone…Steve, Tony, Nat…It was just me,” you said and sighed. “Val offered me a job since it was the CIA that got custody of me and I agreed, arriving at that vault with the intention of killing Ava. But of course…that didn’t happen and we ended up on a team, like old times.”
“Why are you so happy though?” Bucky asked and you nearly choked on your cookie.
“I need a reason to be happy?”
“You got stuck in a coma for twelve years and all your friends died, I wouldn’t be happy,” he said and you shrugged.
“I guess I just remember when we were a team and how fun it was,” you said and smiled, thinking of Nat and Steve arguing about fighting techniques and Tony being a massive peacock all the time. “Besides…I missed twelve years like you said…I’m not gonna miss anymore.”
You smiled and caught a change in his demeanor, something had lightened and you couldn’t feel as much annoyance in the air as before. Maybe hearing all that got to him and Bucky sighed as he sealed up the small bag of cookies and returned to the window, stopping and turning to you.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For telling me all of that.”
“It’s just me, it’s my story.”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” he muttered and turned back to the window as you smiled, grabbing the kindle and feeling the air in the room lighten even more.
Day Three
The next two days of the mission were pretty boring, nothing but watching the building across the street for any movement…whatever that meant. You tried to convince Bucky to take a break but he was stubborn as expected and you found yourself exploring Prague alone, which was fine, the city was beautiful. A day full of exploring had made you pretty tired and you were just lounging in bed late on the evening of your third, nearly fourth day when a sound caught your ear.
Bucky had denied your offer of sharing the bed with a pillow between you two and had made himself something akin to a nest in the living room with an extra mattress and a pile of blankets and you hated to admit he looked pretty comfy. But still, sharing a bed would’ve been interesting to say the least but you didn’t press him, you knew how he felt and didn’t want to make him feel any worse. But when the noise got louder and you felt panic spread throughout the small apartment, curiosity got the better of you and you crept outside, peeking around the corner at his little pile.
Bucky was partially asleep, metal arm above his head but you could tell it wasn’t restful, he was tossing and turning, muttering something in Russian, heart beating hard and fast like he was running from something. It had to be a nightmare, you knew he got them, the whole team did and you were seconds away from pulling him out of it when he shot up, screaming.
“Bucky…”
“Sorry,” he muttered and ran a hand down his face as you stepped further into the room. “Did I wake you up?”
“I was awake,” you muttered and he glanced at a clock that was reading ten minutes past 3am. “I don’t sleep much, only a few hours…I keep thinking I won’t wake up.”
“Fair…But still…you need it.”
“So do you,” you shot back and he scoffed. “Seriously. We might be doing nothing tomorrow…or something horribly exciting might happen and we need to be rested.”
“Yeah, I’m used to only getting a few hours,” he muttered and you moved further into the room, sitting on the edge of his little nest, your cheeks flushed since you had a solution…an interesting one.
“There’s something I can do,” you admitted and he eyed you. “As you know…My second ability allows me to read and manipulate emotions and it can work on other people. I used to calm down Steve when he couldn’t sleep and I’ve done it to myself a lot as well.”
“How?”
“I focus on the emotion I want you to feel…and you feel it,” you said and he nodded. “One catch…”
“What?”
“I need to be touching you,” you muttered and eyed the blanket, knowing your cheeks were red as tomatoes.
Not only were you offering to basically snuggle him but he slept shirtless and his toned, yet scarred chest was on full display, not to mention the mechanism that allowed his arm to attach to the rest of his body. Your eyes lingered on it, the scarring and the mangled flesh allowing the vibranium to stay attached and you wondered how much he had to go through to get it like that. Steve mentioned falling off the bridge and you read about HYDRA and their original metal arm, this one being a Wakanda exclusive but the before all this must’ve been torture. You wanted to ask about it and Bucky caught your eyes lingering but you didn’t break the silence as he moved so you could snuggle up next to him, mildly perturbed he chose the floor not the bed. But the nest thing was warm and actually comfy, not to mention despite it all, he too was warm.
“Alright, so…you’ll feel it pretty quick and be warned…it might feel funny,” you said and Bucky nodded, relaxing a bit as you awkwardly wrapped an arm around him since he was large, much larger than you. “Also…ummm…this isn’t the best position.”
“Too small to be the big spoon?” he asked and you caught the amusement as your cheeks flushed deeper which you didn’t think was possible.
“Maybe.”
“Fine,” he muttered and spun himself around with ease, pulling you against him as the breath was ripped from your lungs, eyes widening further.
Bucky didn’t hesitate to wrap that metal arm around you and sure it was cold but it got balanced out by how hot the rest of him was, literally in this moment. You tried not to freak out as he pulled you close, body pressed against yours and you just knew your face was gonna implode with how hot your cheeks felt. The super sexy super soldier who you had been harbouring a mild crush on since he flipped that limo was now snuggling you, it felt like a dream, something you only read about and it was hard to push aside your feelings and make him feel calm and not in love with you…which would’ve been horribly awkward.
“Alright…ready?” you squeaked and hoped that he didn’t notice.
“Sure.”
You thought of ocean waves, the ones that lapped at the shore and the sound of them filled your mind, calm and peaceful like you hoped to get Bucky to feel in that moment. A peaceful night in flashed through your mind, curling up on the couch with a thick blanket and sweet hot cocoa and listening to one another’s heartbeat, embracing a moment of reprieve. You steered it away from anything to loving and focused on the easiest way to make someone calm, just the steady beat of a heart, chests pressed tight to each other and willed his own mind to feel that. To feel yours as it calmed and you caught it working, Bucky sinking a bit further into the blankets, his breathing becoming laboured and yours following as you hated to admit he was pretty damn comfy.
The idea worked and he slept through the rest of the night, you following and your own tricks had carried over to your mind, calming you and lulling you to a decent night’s sleep for the first time since you woke up. There was no fear of getting pulled back into that coma, of losing yourself to a decade plus of darkness when there was an arm wrapped around you and the steady beat of a heart pressed against your back. This was what you both needed, a reminder that despite it all…there were still people out there willing to make you feel less alone.
Day Five
Finally…you had reached a day where there was something to do and the two of you could get out of the apartment which was starting to become quite suffocating. The moment on the floor was lingering in the back of both your minds and while you hadn’t had to offer it to him again, you wanted to and hated to admit it was the best sleep of your life. But you also didn’t want to push him into cuddling every night and covered your yawn with a hand as you stepped out of the taxi, ogling the mansion in front of you. The leader of the crime syndicate you were after, a man named Demitri, had set up a dinner for all possible clients that was pretty exclusive but thanks to Val, you both had invitations and a bigger goal in mind, get invited to his gala. This was the one shot and charming Demitri enough to get him to invite you was top priority and Bucky had an idea, one you didn’t like.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, this is the only way.”
“Right…the only way,” you muttered and adjusted the hem of your little black dress, not liking the lack of length. “I just don’t think our only option should be me seducing him.”
“Why not?”
“What if it fails?” you asked and he scoffed.
“It won’t,” he assured and you knew you should be thrilled that he was so confident, that one Bucky Barnes found you sexy enough to pull off his little seduction plan.
That part was being forced down by the rest of you that was nervous and jumpy, unsure of how Demitri would even react and not wanting to be near him if his reaction was poor. But Bucky had a hand on your back as he guided you towards the front door and that calmed you down a small bit. It was simple, easy and would mean nothing in the long run, especially if you managed to get an invite to the gala.
“Okay…”
“I’ll be there the whole time, nearby,” he assured and you made your way inside, stopping before a good looking man in a pressed black suit whose eyes widened when he saw you.
“Well…I’ll be,” he said in an accent that was thick but understandable.
“Erica and Jack, the Americans,” Bucky informed, using your codenames as you smiled at Demitri and held out a hand.
“Charmed. Please enjoy.”
He spread his arm out towards the rest of the room and the two of you journeyed further inside, catching sight of a few other guests, all dressed nicely and mingling with champagne flutes in their hands. Bucky grabbed two off the nearest waiter and held one out to you as you nodded in thanks and clinked them together, giving him a smile that he easily returned. The mood between you two changed after that night, he was less annoyed and more calm around you and had stopped grumbling in annoyance whenever you walked in the room. It helped that you tried to keep up that aura of calm around him, especially at night but it was failing you at the moment and your stomach was a bundle of nerves.
“Alright, I’ll stay off to the side,” Bucky said and perched in the corner, adding a small earpiece to your ear, his fingers brushing your cheek. “I’ll be with you the whole time…I promise.”
“Okay,” you said and he squeezed your hand before you made your way over to Demitri who was chatting up a young woman dressed in an even shorter dress than yours, which you had assumed was impossible. “Demitri.”
“Oh…Erica?” he asked and you nodded. “What can I do for you?”
“Just wanted to talk,” you said and tried your best to look desirable.
“Very well, talk away,” he said and grabbed your elbow, leading you deeper into the mansion as your heartrate sped up.
“This place is incredible.”
“Thank you, it was my fathers, he left it to me when he died.”
“Sorry to hear.”
“Between you and me…criminal to criminal…I killed him,” he said and your eyes widened as you coughed to stave off the surprise.
“Oh.”
“He deserved it,” Demitri said and your heartbeat quickened. “I’m sure you know people that also deserve it.”
“Oh…of course,” you agreed and hoped that he didn’t notice the shake in your voice.
“Charm him.”
You nearly jumped when Bucky started talking, not used to having his voice in your ear but you didn’t let Demitri catch it and sported a more seductive smile than before.
“So, you must be the most powerful man you know,” you observed and wondered if he’d find that charming.
“Wow…Maybe I was wrong.”
“Oh I am, there’s no one that comes close to me, I mean…look at me.”
“Good…he’s a peacock…use that.”
“Yes, for sure, the best,” you agreed and absolutely hated it but Demitri looked like he was in love.
“I’m so happy I found someone who agrees,” he muttered and reached up, brushing a hand along your cheek and hair, eyes narrowing. “Oh…you have help.”
Your eyes widened when he pulled back with the earpiece in hand and you could hear Bucky’s voice through it as he asked what happened and why you weren’t responding. Demitri crushed it, cutting off your lifeline and you suddenly felt a whole lot worse about agreeing to this stupid plan, thinking you could be okay with this. There was a part of your past before the Avengers that you had yet to mention and only Steve Rogers knew but he was gone and you’d been too scared to say it again, to spill your secrets. It’s why you brushed off the Void when Bucky brought it up, claimed your rooms were normal and made him think that that whole fiasco was just something you brushed off.
But not even you, a woman known for lighting up every room she walked into, could light up the darkness present in the Void. It was too much…too dark and your powers failed you, the emotions didn’t come and all you felt was a gut wrenching, spine tingling amount of fear. Those memories played out like that moment in the hall when he pushed forward, pressing your back against a hallway table and smiling down at you, eyes alight with mischief. Demitri didn’t seem to be a fan of having his private conversations shared and not even Bucky’s support towards you seducing him could get you out of this. You were trapped and suddenly couldn’t even breathe right.
“What was your plan?” he cooed and ran a hand along your cheek as you shuttered. “I can see that you were trying to seduce me…but why.”
Demitri stepped closer, knee pressed against your torso since he had managed to spread your legs apart and you could feel tears in your eyes, running down your cheek. It was a shame room without the Void, a real life amalgamation of all your biggest fears and your brain was trying its hardest to not just shut down and let it happen. This wasn’t the Void where you could sit and wait for the others to come get you and sure Bucky was around but he wasn’t there and Demitri was closing in, hands on both your shoulders as he kept you in place.
“No reason…just wanted an invite to that gala,” you said and kept your voice as level as it could go, which wasn’t that level and the shake caused him to smirk.
“Oh…is that so?”
“Yes…only that.”
“Only,” he muttered and his fingertips brushed the hem of your dress, thigh included as your breath hitched. “I think it was more than that.”
“No…it wasn’t,” you assured and tried to move but he had trapped you, a tighter hold taking over as you cringed in pain. “Please…let me go.”
“Why?”
“Because she said so.”
You both turned, Bucky appearing at the end of the hall, his suit jacket shed and his sleeves rolled up to reveal the metal arm, catching on the light of the chandeliers in the hall as Demitri raised a brow. He didn’t look all that concerned and ignored him, going back to you as Bucky got closer, appearing at your side in mere moments and grabbing him by the throat, dangling him a good foot off the ground.
“Did he do anything?” Bucky asked and you shook your head as he nodded. “Good…he’s not going to die then. But he won’t be up for a while.”
Using the full power of that vibranium arm he launched Demitri down the hall and he screamed, his back hitting the far wall and his head lolled to the side, the man down for the count as you sighed in relief. Bucky immediately turned to you, grabbing your arm and helping you up as your fear was replaced by anger and you slapped his hand away.
“Hey…are you…”
“No, shut it,” you said and his eyes widened. “I told you this was a bad idea.”
“Gemini…”
“No, I said I didn’t want to do it!” you shouted and he cringed, grabbing you again and shoving you through the nearest door which led into a library. “I claimed I couldn’t do it, Bucky! I told you and yet…you insisted, even encouraged it.”
“Hey, calm down.”
“I’m not gonna fucking calm down,” you said and channeled all that happiness into anger. “You saw what happened.”
“I didn’t think he’d do that, he found the earpiece.”
“He…”
“He wouldn’t have, I told you I was right there.”
“Oh so that’s your excuse,” you snapped and he eyed you. “You were around the corner so I was safe with that pig of a man.”
“Hey…d--”
“No!” you shot back and cut him off before he could use that endearment he seemed so damn fond of. “Don’t you fucking doll me. You know what, you’re the fucking doll and I’m not gonna sit here and swoon over your stupid excuses. You should’ve listened to me.”
“You didn’t tell me why,” he shot back and that shut you up because he was right. “I would’ve never suggested it if I knew why you didn’t want to do it.”
“Do I need a reason?”
“You agreed after I brought up you didn’t have one,” Bucky shot back and you sighed, knowing he was right.
“I know…”
“Do you?”
“I do,” you muttered and he stepped a bit closer, grabbing your hand and you let him.
“Tell me.”
“I joined the Avengers because Steve found me at a decommissioned SHIELD base that they assumed was being run by rejected HYDRA scientists and they were correct,” you said and leaned against the bookshelf as Bucky stayed rooted in place in front of you. “My powers are from a successful genetic testing experiment that was carried out by my own father after my mother died and he decided parenting was too hard. I stayed there for close to fifteen years after it worked when I was seven and when I turned eighteen, one of the scientists who was about twenty decided that I was no longer just a test subject, but a woman…under their control.”
“Did he…”
“Twice,” you muttered and could feel Bucky’s grip around your hand tighten. “I discovered that when you think of the feeling of death, when you project that feeling onto someone…they make it their goal to die too. And he did and no one ever did it again. Steve found me when I turned twenty and for six months, life was great, I had them and him and you know what happened after.”
“You only got six months,” he said and you saw the pity on his face. “God…Is that what you saw in the Void.”
“That…the fall, waking up and learning they were all gone, all of it.”
“When we got out, you were smiling.”
“Bob was also smiling, I borrowed his happiness and buried that horrible place far beneath it.”
“Why?” he asked and your breath hitched, unsure if you really wanted to be this vulnerable.
But Bucky had been absentmindedly rubbing his fingers along yours and you liked the feeling, you liked having him so close and feeling the reassurance radiate off him like happiness normally radiated off you.
“If I let myself feel all of what happened in the void…If I let it infect me, then I’ll shatter and collapse and no one will ever be able to put me back together,” you admitted and felt the tears on your cheeks. “So I choose to radiate happiness, for both myself and for others.”
“It sounds crazy, too hard,” he muttered and you chuckled, nodding in agreement.
“It gets easier when you focus on all the other emotions surrounding you, the happiness that people feel when I go for walks or the love couples share in Central Park,” you said and eyed him, seeing him soften a bit. “The relief the team feels after a mission and the amusement that radiates off of Bob. Yelena is always cheerful, Ava is caring and Walker is an idiot but even he shows his respect towards a job well done. I see you and Alexei, bonding like the old super soldiers you both are. I focus on that, draw that in and everything else…it fades for a little while.”
“I had attributed your happiness to being crazy, you were lying to yourself and didn’t really feel it and yet…you were feeling all of it and more.”
“I try,” you said and he nodded, rubbing a hand along your cheek and you let him, feeling safe under the gentle caress of his embrace, so light it was like he assumed he could shatter you.
“I got worried there for a second, I couldn’t feel it.”
“You missed it?”
“I think I did,” he muttered and looked conflicted. “Maybe I should pay attention more, see what’s around me and I like what I see.”
You caught the shift when he changed his footing to allow himself to step closer, his other hand traveling to your waist and you let it, leaning into the feeling as Bucky’s eyes lingered on your lips. He licked his own and you did the same, wishing he’d close the gap already, do what you knew he wanted and he got close…face hovering just above yours, breath brushing against your lips, a ghostly touch but nothing tangible. Nothing real…not yet. You wanted to tilt up, not even an inch to close that stupid gap but before you could he blinked and stepped back, hands all but shooting back to his side as the room’s tension dissipated and you sighed.
“We should leave,” he muttered and you nodded, not wanting to dig any deeper.
It was so close…not even an inch…an inch. One measly little inch between you and him and he just wouldn’t close it. One god damn stupid inch the size of the grand canyon and you hated every single long and drawn out second of it.
Day Seven
To say you were mad at Bucky Barnes for not kissing you was an understatement…you were furious. Sure it felt a bit weird to wish for a man to kiss you after having just escaped one but there was a mountain of space between Bucky and Demitri. One was trash incarnate and the other…the other made you wish you could just throw him away. He was so close…so god damn close and you made it your goal to make him rue that moment for as long as he wanted to keep stuffing his head up his ass. So yesterday, before the auction that Val got you access to you bought the best looking red dress you could find and made sure he knew how much that moment didn’t bother you. All a lie of course but you liked the look on his face when you met him at the mansion where the auction was since you had chosen to be occupied before it began.
“Bucky,” you greeted and grabbed his hand, ignoring the way his breath caught.
“You look nice,” he muttered and you nodded in thanks.
“Thank you, I wasn’t trying,” you said and he nodded, swallowing hard. “So…after all that we still got a ticket.”
You both moved past the guy at the main door, names on the list thanks to Val and an OXE agent who was already in the building and basically running the operation now. The stunt you both pulled with Demitri was not OXE approved so you were around just as backup and were told to linger in the shadows and wait to see if the trained operatives needed you. You didn’t mind, the mission was pretty much complete and there was enough OXE around to fumble any large arms deal and you knew they wouldn’t need you, you were just there to bug the hell out of Bucky.
“So…do you think OXE will intervene?” you asked and leaned against the railing of the second floor.
“Probably, there’s enough guys here.”
“Yeah, they brought an army.”
“I guess as soon as they clear it all we can head back and pack it up.”
“Just like that,” you said and he nodded. “Feels like a week has gone by.”
“Very funny.”
“Do we just go back to normalcy after this?”
“What else would we go back to?” he asked and turned, his face getting a bit close which reminded you of that stupid gap.
“I don’t know,” you muttered and sighed, moving away from him as you frowned.
The auction was halted before it could begin and a couple dozen OXE operatives appeared, arresting Demitri who was spotting a black eye from his altercation with Bucky. They dragged him off, kicking and screaming about being set up by some whack job American named Jack as you chuckled and got the okay on your comm from the main operative in the building.
“Alright…shall we?” you asked and Bucky nodded, taking one last look at the auction before following you out and all the way back to the apartment, the walk there shared in silence.
“So…” he began once you made your way in.
“Pack it up,” you muttered and moved to grab your duffle as he nodded.
“Alright,” he said and sighed, grabbing a couple shirts that got tossed across various chairs. “Look…”
“What?”
“What is this?”
“What is what?”
“Why are you standing there in that dress and acting like this all normal,” he said and you turned, crossing your arms.
“Your point.”
“Something changed, I can feel it.”
“Good, you're not stupid,” you said and he rolled his eyes.
“What changed?” he asked and you scoffed.
“I take it back.”
“Come on…tell me, I want to know. I need to know,” he pleaded and you sighed, hoping he got the declaration.
“You didn’t close the gap,” you deadpanned and Bucky eyed you.
“What?”
“The gap, you didn’t kiss me at Demitri’s.”
“I didn’t know you wanted it,” he shot back and tossed the shirt in the duffle as you scoffed.
“You stick your lips an inch from mine and don’t expect me to want it.”
“Kissing you after that felt wrong.”
“It wouldn’t have been.”
“I save you from the asshole and kiss you, what kind of guy does that make me.”
“A better one,” you shot back and he turned to you. “A good one. You’re not him and I never thought you were. That moment…I wasn’t mad…I was eager. I wanted it.”
“Do you still?”
“Are we changing? Is this changing our dynamic?”
“Maybe it is,” he said and moved closer, eyes drinking in your red dress. “Why?”
“Why do you want it to change? You've hated me for so long.”
“I felt that happiness you radiate, I didn’t like it…didn’t like the way it made me feel like I could relax and release all this tension in my shoulders, I didn’t want to go that far.”
“But this mission…”
“This mission ruined all of it,” he said and you smiled. “It ruined that because now, I want nothing more than to be wrapped up in that feeling forever. To let these walls down and let you infect me.”
“You make it sound so romantic,” you said and Bucky got ever closer, hands on your arms as he slowly backed you up against the wall.
“Don’t you want that?”
“I want nothing more,” you said and he once again put himself an inch away from your lips.
“Can I call you doll if we go any further?”
“Maybe…”
“Maybe?”
“I think it works better for you.”
“I’m not a doll.”
“Aren’t you, doll?” you whispered and noticed how it made him jump. “Oh…do you like that? I can feel that emotion I’ll have you know.”
“Which?”
“All of them and more,” you muttered and reached out, hands on his chest as his body lurched towards yours, being led by his hips and you smiled. “One big doll.”
“You gotta stop that.”
“Hmmm…stop, doll?” you asked and he bit his lip, still that inch away. “Close it, Bucky.”
“What?”
“Every gap you can,” you breathed out and his lips were on yours before you could finish.
A week of pining in one kiss was a lot to bear and you felt him push you further into the wall, hands moving from your arms to your hips as he locked on, keeping you locked in place. But it wasn’t like he was forcing you to be there, there was none of that with this man, it was gentle in a way you didn’t know was possible. You could tell he was still worried about breaking you, that feather touch was still there and you wanted him to know he could go deeper, you weren’t gonna break, you had him.
“I…I don’t know…”
“It’s okay,” you muttered, breathless and knew he had reservations. “I found something after my coma…you’re not the first.”
“That isn’t very romantic.”
“It’s me telling you I’m not scared,” you shot back and he smiled.
“Really?”
“I never could be, you’re you.”
“Even back when I was an ass?”
“Makes it even better to prove you wrong,” you shot back and he smirked, kissing you again, deeper this time as his hands clawed at the hem of the dress that had been taunting him all night.
To your surprise you noticed a slight hesitation and glanced down, his hands having stopped and his face searching yours to make sure this was okay. It was a hell of a change from all the guys before, their need to push and pull till they got what they want but not Bucky, this was a moment for the both of you and he wanted you to savour it as much as he did.
“Do it,” you muttered and he caught your eye.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I trust you,” you said and he smiled, pulling the hem up, the dress coming up over your shoulders and soon piled in a heap on the floor.
Bucky stepped back, chest heaving as he drank you in, looking intently at every curve and dip of your body, every small little speck of something he could latch his eyes onto. The scars from your time in that lab, all the IV port markings from the coma, even a scrape on your hip from childhood, a memory of a time before it all that left a thin white line as a reminder of what could’ve been. His fingers found it, tracing the line across the curve of your hip as you tried your hardest to keep from melting against that wall before the real fun could begin. He let his hands fall before pulling his own shirt off, adding it to the pile and your eyes gave his body the same treatment, more scars to linger on and more memories but you didn’t care, they all held a certain beauty.
Bucky and you…you were both canvases that painted a picture of a life scarred and together you’d patch it, fix up the cracks and imperfections with lips dragged across every inch of skin they could find. He started his quest by moving to your neck, sucking some of the skin as you moaned, wanting more and he chuckled, moving your little escapade to the single bed in the other room and shedding more clothes as he went. He laid you back, admiring it all as he went and stopped, awaiting approval which you gave and he smiled, hopping up and caging you within those strong arms.
“Still trust me?” he asked and you nodded.
“Forever more,” you agreed and he smiled, dipping his head down, capturing your lips in a kiss.
The feelings of the room were a tad bit overwhelming and you copied his strength just in case things went for a tad bit longer than either of you intended. You weren’t worried, he was a man in love at the moment and you were the woman of his dreams, he was going to make all the waiting worth it, you had no doubt. And he did, as the night raged on and the feelings only got more intense, the room filling itself with a mirage of different colours and sensations. You felt all of him for the first time but it felt like the fifth. It was a love that only deepened the further it went and at the moment, it was the deepest it could go.
Two broken people, broken from memories long since buried and moments tucked into deep corners had found a shot at being themselves with another person, being who they wanted to be while being wanted all the same. You had a lot of regrets, a lot of shame and not enough rooms to contain them all but there in that moment they all didn’t matter. They were behind you and this man was in front of you and loved every minute of it.
“I love you,” he whispered and you grinned.
“I love you too.”
“Shall we extend this mission?”
“I would like to see more of Europe.”
“Good, I would too,” he agreed and you snuggled against him, radiating calm like that night at the beginning of the mission.
Bucky didn’t need it, he already felt quite at peace and you looked down, eyes widening and a smile etching across your face when you noticed that he was smiling wide.
“Happy?” you asked and he chuckled.
“Quite,” he agreed and you snuggled in closer.
“Good, I’m very glad.”
“I have a lot to smile about,” he said and you nodded in agreement. “A lot to be thankful for…a lot to look forward to…a lot…of everything.”
“I like everything, it sounds doable.”
“It sounds perfect.”
“Who is this guy?” you asked and sat up a bit as he chuckled.
“Just a man…”
“Just a man,” you mocked and he shrugged.
“Just a man in love,” he said and kissed you deep once again, savouring every second of it and preventing another one inch gap of separation.
***
Back at the Watchtower, Yelena Belova had gotten word that the mission was a success and despite some bumps in the road, they arrested Demitri before his auction could begin and Bucky and Gemini had made it. She was proud to say the least, proud of the fact that you didn’t end up killing each other and maybe something good came out of shoving you two together for a whole ass week. Two people, destined to murder each other and existing in a one-bedroom apartment that she had told Val you requested to be closer to your partner. It was a ruse, she just wanted to force some connection and her brows raised at the text she got late that morning.
The mission went awry, staying a few more weeks, might need to see a few more places to really get all the intel we need. -Bucky
“Bullshit,” Yelena said and smiled, wide as a second came in.
Thank you. You were right. -Bucky
“Hey, any word from the two, have they killed each other?” Walker asked, leaning against the doorframe and Yelena smiled, jumping up and running over to show him the text. “What is this?”
“They fell in love.”
“Bullshit.”
“Val told me the mission went perfect and yet, he tells me it went horribly wrong and they need to extend it.”
“So…”
“So…he’s taking his new girlfriend on a European vacation.”
“You have no proof,” Walker said and Yelena grinned at another new message, this one a photo of you and Bucky in front of the Eiffel Tower, his lips pressed against your cheek.
Show it to Walker. -Bucky
“Look,” she said and Walker frowned.
“God I hate that guy.”
“You owe me twenty bucks!” Yelena exclaimed and texted back as many kissy face emojis as she could fit in one message, a wide grin on her face.
Sooooooooo…Was I right or was I right?
Maybe I’m not that grumpy. -Bucky
“Oh yeah, I was right!” Yelena shouted and knew that she’d never let you two live this down once you got back.
Grumpy Bucky was no more and had been replaced with a love drunk fool that had a gorgeous woman to keep him company as he showed her a life she should’ve gotten years ago. It was all you and him could ever ask for, a life together, no gaps, no regrets and no chance at ever escaping Yelena ever again.
Warnings: themes of PTSD, medical violence, torture.
Summary: Bucky searches for comfort in coffee and Alpine after a night of terrors.
Pairing: None
Word count: 571
A/N: First original fic of mine that I've written in a very long time. But as someone with medical C-PTSD it was cathartic. If you like it, please reblog!
My masterlist can be found here.
Frigid metal at his back and cutting into his skin. Sweat cooling on his forehead. But both were a harsh contrast to the fire burning through his veins as if molten.
He opened his mouth to scream. Why couldn't he scream? "Barnes, James. Sergeant. 32557038…" he barely whispered. Still, he said it over and over. "Barnes. James. Sergeant…" Every syllable was a struggle, and his mind eviscerated them before they'd even left his cracked lips.
His right eye had been crusted shut with blood. He didn't know what from. Dull waves of pain radiated from his left cheek in time with his heartbeat. It had to be broken. If that was broken, what else?
Leather straps dug into his skin and held him immobile. Exhaustion had caused him to stop fighting them hours ago… or was it days? Years? His throat hurt, but he didn't know if it was from screaming or if it was from someone throttling him. What was more horrifying: the fact that it didn't even matter to him anymore.
The dim lighting did nothing to hide the acrid smell of piss and fear that hung heavy in the air, making it difficult to breathe: that, and the sharp ache between his ribs that blossomed with every breath.
Somewhere, a door creaked open, and the lights flickered to life. Fear gripped him, and a voice that made his stomach churn called out, "Are we ready, Sergeant?"
------
Bucky sat straight up, gasping as he looked wildly around the bare apartment. Darkness. Only a slight ache in his bones, but no real pain. Alone. He didn't dare close his eyes; the lab was always there, hiding in the dark. He slowly stood to turn on a light. "Yeah, well, I wanted to get up." That's what he was determined to tell himself. And his therapist.
"Mrowr." Bucky flinched at the sound, even as Alpine wound his way around his legs. He took a steadying breath and tried to hide the slight tremor in his hands from the fading adrenaline. "Mrowr," the cat repeated with insistence.
Bucky grunted in response, still measuring out coffee grounds. "It's 3 am, you can wait a bit for breakfast. Me? I need coffee." The cat silently hopped up onto the counter and sat, flicking her tail. Bucky tried to ignore her, he really did, but he gave in and got the cat her breakfast when he glanced at her over his first sip of coffee. Big mistake. With a heavy sigh and an annoyed glare at the cat, he set about filling her bowl. The food made a grotesque plop as it hit the ceramic before he unceremoniously offered it to her. The cat tilted her head, and he rolled his eyes before grabbing a sardine from the fridge that he kept especially for her.
"There, happy?" She only purred in reply. The fluffy feline all but pounced on the food when he set it in front of her. The corner of his mouth twitched as he turned the water on, momentarily distracted by his companion.
Cold water hit his hands, and for a split second, he was in Zola's lab. He blinked hard, and he was home, he was alone. Always alone. "Yeah, well," Bucky shrugged and took another sip of coffee. The heat was grounding, even if it was still too hot. Nonsuicidal self-harm, his therapist called it. Bucky called it survival.
Summary: In the world of New York’s underworld, James “Bucky” Barnes is a man who always gets what he wants — except, maybe, his wife’s compliance. After a risky deal made behind her back, the night spirals into a slow, dangerous dance of defiance and desire. From a tense car ride to a charged encounter upstairs, neither of them is willing to back down. In a marriage built on power, loyalty, and just a little bit of danger, every look is a challenge… and every touch could be a promise.
Warnings: mob au, power play, dom themes, possessive!bucky, slow burn, sexual tension, jealous!bucky, mentions of violence, swears I think that’s it but please let me know if I’ve forgotten anything
Word count: 2367 ♡
Tag list ♡ Fic recs ♡ Requests
The hum of the engine was the only sound in the car.
Even the city outside seemed to sense you were in no mood for noise, muffling its chaos behind tinted glass and leather upholstery.
Bucky sat beside you, his broad shoulders filling more space than necessary, one arm stretched lazily along the back of the seat as though the silence was his idea. A silver watch winked on his wrist, catching the passing streetlights. His other hand rested on his thigh — gloved, steady, dangerous — like it always did when he was working through something.
And Bucky Barnes was always working through something.
You didn’t look at him. You’d made that mistake once already tonight — during the meeting — and caught the faintest twitch of his mouth when he’d said something that made your jaw tighten. A deal struck without you, a risk taken without your say, and just enough smugness to make your blood simmer.
“You gonna give me the silent treatment all night, doll?” His voice was low, velvet-wrapped steel, as if you were discussing the weather instead of the fact you wanted to throw him out of the moving car.
You kept your gaze out the window. “I was under the impression you prefer when I’m quiet.”
“Not this kind of quiet.” His tone curled at the edges, dangerous in its amusement. “This is the kind where you’re plotting, and you’ve got that little crease between your brows. Means I’m in trouble.”
“Sharp observation,” you said flatly. “Almost like you’ve been married to me long enough to notice.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his smirk. “Four years, two months, and seventeen days,” he said without hesitation.
Your fingers curled against your clutch. Damn him.
The car eased to a stop, the driver waiting for the signal. Bucky’s hand brushed yours for just a second — a test, a reminder, a challenge — before he pushed the door open and stepped out into the cool night air. The dim glow of the streetlamps turned the edges of his dark suit to silver, his shadow long against the pavement.
You saw him walk around the back of the car, slow and unhurried, like a king making his way to the throne.
The door beside you opened, and there he was — hand extended, head tilted in that infuriating mix of old-world courtesy and unapologetic command.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured.
Your spine stayed straight, chin high. And then, without a word, you shifted across the seat, your dress whispering against the leather, and slipped out the opposite side.
The night air kissed your skin, cool and sharp. You didn’t look at him — didn’t need to — because you could feel his eyes on you, that heavy-lidded gaze that had once made your knees weak but tonight only fueled your stubbornness.
When you finally glanced back, he was leaning an arm against the open door, smirking at you like you’d just told him a joke.
His head shook once, slow, amused. “Unbelievable,” he said under his breath, and you could swear the bastard sounded proud.
Your heels clicked against the pavement, the sound sharp in the stillness of the street. Ahead, the club’s entrance glowed gold and crimson, a velvet rope swaying lazily in the warm night breeze.
You didn’t slow when Bucky fell into step beside you. You knew that walk — predatory, fluid, the kind that made people clear his path without a word. His hand brushed the small of your back once. Not a guiding touch. A claim.
“You keep ignoring me, and people are gonna start thinking we’re having marital problems,” he said lightly, his voice pitched low enough for only you to hear.
“People already think that,” you replied.
Out of the corner of your vision, you saw his mouth twitch. “Yeah, but they don’t usually get a show.”
You wanted to tell him exactly what kind of show you’d like to give him — preferably involving throwing your drink in his face — but the doorman was already unhooking the rope, dipping his head in respect.
Inside, the world shifted.
Warm light spilled over crystal glasses and dark wood, laughter curling through the air like smoke. A jazz trio played in the corner, the sultry notes winding between low conversations and the clink of expensive liquor.
The crowd turned — subtly, but you felt it — when Bucky entered. They always did.
Men straightened. Women glanced twice. And Bucky? He absorbed it like oxygen.
His hand found your waist again, firmer this time, guiding you through the throng. “Smile, doll,” he murmured. “Makes me look good.”
You didn’t give him the satisfaction, though your lips curved just enough to pass for polite.
“Better,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.
Halfway across the room, you caught the eye of a man leaning against the polished bar — tall, tailored suit, the kind of handsome that came with sharp teeth hidden behind a charming smile. He raised his glass in your direction.
You felt Bucky still beside you.
“That’s Nicolai,” he said without looking. “From the Petrovs. Likes to think he’s got taste.”
“Mm.” You took a step toward the bar. “Maybe he does.”
The glint in Bucky’s eye when he looked at you then could have melted glass. Dangerous, yes, but wrapped in something else — something dark and possessive that made your pulse skip.
He didn’t stop you from moving closer to Nicolai, though. That was the thing about Bucky. He’d let you play your little games… right up until the moment he decided he’d had enough.
You could feel his gaze burning between your shoulder blades as you greeted Nicolai, his polite smirk hiding the storm brewing behind him.
Nicolai leaned in slightly, speaking just loud enough for you to hear over the music. “And who might you be, beautiful?”
Before you could answer, Bucky’s voice slid between you like a blade wrapped in silk.
“She’s my wife.”
When you glanced back, he was already there, standing close enough that his arm brushed yours, his eyes fixed on Nicolai with a calmness that was anything but.
The air between the three of you stretched tight, the music still playing like nothing at all was wrong.
Nicolai chuckled softly, but it lacked weight now. His smile faltered under the weight of Bucky’s stare.
“Barnes,” he said, lifting his glass in a mock toast. “Didn’t realize you’d be gracing us tonight.”
Bucky’s lips curved, but it wasn’t kindness. “You should always assume I’m watching, Nicolai.”
There was nothing overtly threatening in the words — no raised voice, no obvious menace — but the other man’s hand tightened around his glass all the same.
Bucky didn’t look at him again. Instead, he angled his head toward you, brushing a knuckle against your waist like you were a jewel he was making sure was still in place. “Drink, doll?”
You tilted your head, meeting his eyes just long enough for your pulse to betray you. “Don’t order for me.”
His smirk deepened. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The bartender appeared as if summoned, and you ordered something cold and sharp, keeping your gaze anywhere but Bucky’s.
While you sipped, he leaned an elbow on the bar, turning slightly to survey the room. His presence was… gravitational. People flowed around him, some greeting him with careful smiles, others keeping their distance. You knew the type — the ones who owed him favors, money, or silence.
You let him work the room while you slipped away — just far enough to mingle, not far enough for him to lose sight of you. A cluster of well-dressed guests drew you into polite conversation, and for a few minutes, you almost forgot the sting of his earlier stunt. Almost.
But every time you laughed, you felt it — the weight of his gaze from across the room. The way he’d tip his glass just slightly when your eyes met, as if reminding you whose side you were on.
The current between you built with every stolen glance, every unspoken challenge.
Then you caught him moving — slow, deliberate — cutting through the crowd with that easy, predatory stride. You’d seen him approach rivals like that. Deals, too. The kind that ended with someone shaking his hand… or leaving in the back of a different car.
He came to stand just behind you, his voice low against your ear. “Having fun, sweetheart?”
You turned, letting the corner of your mouth curve in the faintest smile. “Loads.”
One dark brow lifted. “You flirting with trouble?”
“Depends.” You sipped your drink, watching him over the rim. “Are you trouble?”
He didn’t answer — just stepped closer, close enough that the faint scent of his cologne and the heat radiating from him filled your senses. His hand brushed the small of your back again, this time lingering, thumb moving in a slow, idle circle that felt like a promise and a warning all at once.
“You know I am,” he murmured.
You didn’t remember deciding to follow him.
One moment, you were in the middle of a conversation you barely heard, the next, you were catching sight of Bucky slipping through a side door, glancing back once as if to check whether you’d take the bait.
You did.
The hallway was quieter, the music from the main room a distant hum. Plush carpet muted your footsteps as you followed him past a line of closed doors until he stopped at one near the end. A key turned in the lock, and then the door swung open to reveal a dimly lit office — leather, mahogany, shadows pooling in the corners.
He didn’t speak until you were inside, the click of the door locking behind you sending a prickle down your spine.
“You wanna tell me what that little stunt was back there?” he asked, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it onto the back of a chair.
You crossed your arms, leaning against the desk. “Which stunt? The one where I refused to play obedient little wife, or the one where I made Nicolai smile at me?”
His gaze sharpened. “You think that’s funny?”
You tilted your chin. “I think it’s interesting that you can make deals behind my back, but I can’t have a conversation without you circling like a shark.”
He took a slow step toward you, then another, his presence thick in the air. “That deal kept you safe, doll.”
You laughed, low and disbelieving. “Safe? Or quiet?”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. “You know the difference.”
“Do I?”
His hand braced on the desk beside your hip, the other sliding into his pocket, casual in a way that made you more aware of the heat between you. “You think I don’t notice when you’re angry? You think I don’t see it in every little thing you do?”
You swallowed, refusing to look away. “You enjoy it.”
That smirk finally appeared, slow and deliberate. “I do.”
It was infuriating — and yet the admission made your pulse jump.
He leaned in, voice dropping. “You’re gorgeous when you’re mad. Makes me wanna…” His gaze dipped to your mouth for half a beat before flicking back up. “…test how far you’ll go.”
Your breath caught, but you refused to step back. “Careful. You might find out.”
His chuckle was low, dark, curling in your gut. “That’s the idea, sweetheart.”
For a long moment, neither of you moved. The space between you was thick with the same unspoken thing it had been all night — not quite a threat, not quite a promise, but something that made the air feel too warm.
Finally, he stepped back, breaking the tension with a sharp flick of his gaze toward the door. “We should get back before they start thinking I’m negotiating upstairs.”
“And what are we doing?” you asked, voice lighter than you felt.
His smirk deepened. “Something a hell of a lot more dangerous.”
You made it back to the main room with him close at your side, his hand resting lightly against your back as though nothing had happened upstairs.
Only you knew better.
The crowd was still buzzing, deals being whispered over tumblers of amber liquor, but Bucky didn’t linger. He murmured a few words to a man in a dark suit, got a nod in return, and steered you toward the exit.
The night air outside was cooler now, crisp against your skin after the low heat of the venue. The car was already waiting, headlights pooling white across the pavement.
Bucky walked ahead a few paces, his silhouette sharp against the streetlight glow. Then, just like before, he rounded the back of the car, came to your side, and pulled the door open.
His eyes caught yours in the dim light, that same unreadable mix of amusement and challenge. “C’mon, doll,” he said softly, the exact same words as earlier.
You stood still for a moment, your gaze flicking from the open door to his hand — that steady, gloved hand extended toward you.
For a second, you considered sliding across the seat again just to prove you still could. But the memory of his voice upstairs — low, dangerous, deliciously sure of himself — made you pause.
You stepped forward and let his hand brush yours as you slid into the car. Not quite surrender. Not quite forgiveness. Just… something.
He leaned in, one hand braced on the roof, close enough that you could feel his breath against your cheek. “That’s my girl,” he murmured.
And before you could answer — before you could tell him you weren’t doing this for him — he shut the door, circling to his side with that same infuriating, satisfied smirk.
The engine purred to life, the city lights sliding across his face as the car pulled away. You didn’t speak. Neither did he. But the silence between you wasn’t the same as before.
It was warmer now. Thicker.
And you knew, with absolute certainty, that the game was far from over.
