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―
O'Neill has heard the rumors, sure.
Problem about rumors O'Neill has heard is that people seldom believed that shit.
Hell, he had this reputation for over-exaggerating, bragging or flat out fabricating things purely to contradict people, be a smart mouth or irritate them and much like the boy who cried 'wolf!' whenever he had something legitimate to say, people brushed it off as some of that 'crap Red had to spew' and something that, in general, is best let in through one ear and let out the other. Maybe why it was so irritating and tense carrying around a sensitive, polarizing and quite bewildering piece of intel that was undoubtedly true as were all things relating to Bob, but which he had no way to outright prove or confirm, feeling a bit like a messenger who had something crucial to declare without nobody there to sincerely listen or accept his report; then again, it isn't every day a guy walks into the barracks and casually drops a bomb like 'Did you all hear Sergeant Barnes got hitched to some broad?' and have people not stare at him like he's motherfucking off his rocker. He tried telling Sanderson, for starters, them being the first two people who arrived and took their respective places around the makeshift table that served as their regular poker den but that asshole was usually to inebriated and out of it to listen. Secondly, he gave it a shot with Bunny and Junior, O'Neill chewing something in his mouth with great distinction as he contentedly attempted to relay the story, feeling somewhat smug, of course, while he told that the Sarge is back from his nuptials and nobody knows, except him and now, in their privileged position, the two of them as trusted trustees. How could he not feel smug? He knew some shit and nobody else did and he could very well pick and choose who he shares it with, maybe with a favour or two in return. Now, he could feel the all importance of being the direct news source of a piece of gossip more salacious than the color of Raquel Welch's panties visible from the first row at the last USO show.
It happened in War Zone C.
Somewhere around the Tay Ninh Province, not even fifty clicks from here.
You got lowered at a checkpoint in an army chopper; you and a handful of nurses, Red Cross workers, journalists and those Donut Dollies. Took a special permit, apparently, for you to be able to enter an active combat zone in the first place as a civilian, but back then, Bob being a man of few words, Red hasn't put two and two together just yet that it was the Sarge you were here for. Took being nosy to start getting to the bottom of the matter, of course and Sergeant Barnes', rather, Bob's separate bungalow was naturally so tidy, so unnervingly clean, so devoid of any personal affects that usually permeated the mess of other living quarters that snooping on the man was genuinely a chore and of course O'Neill understood that if anyone else tried this shit they'd be hit with a code red extramarital beat down or a court martial at worst, but he figured, Bob tolerated him as much as Bob could tolerate a person, so standing in the middle of his hooch, looking around anxiously in the man's absence wasn't as much of a risk for him as it would've been for some overly curious cherry with a death-wish or even someone who had the jurisdiction and the right to conduct a routine inspection, like that shit-for-brains Wolfe. Thing was, Barnes was acting questionably lately, O'Neill concluded; well, questionably in the sense that he often went off to do something privately rather than perpetually, sleeplessly scour the horizon with seemingly lidless eyes day and night and that, for a man like Barnes, was strange. The singular focus of anything but the war was out of the fucking norm for the guy. Sure, O'Neill could expect a greenhorn cheesedick like Gardner or Taylor to sneak off to write to grandma back home, but Barnes, of all people? Red never even particularly discovered if that son of a bitch had anyone to write to or if he would even care to if he had, being one of those Lifers singularly dedicated to nothing but fighting the good fight.
Maybe why discovering clean pieces of paper in a lone drawer was such a surprise.
Nothing written on them, just the fact that they were there.
In the company of an old ballpoint pen, clearly having been used.
A stack of empty manilla envelopes too, neatly folded, with unnerving precision.
Shit, Sarge might just be putting together a hit-list, the intrusive thought comes unbidden into Red's mind as he shifts his weight nervously from one leg to another like the ground beneath his boots alone was threatening to burn him alive if he wasn't careful enough, feeling the onslaught of sweaty bullets lining his forehead spill down the bridge of his nose, the ash residue on his cigarette hanging low enough to be on the verge of tumbling unto the bare ground floor just as his shaking, neurotic fingers are on the verge of reaching a printed, separate document tucked away among the collection of clear, unused stationery with his eyes briefly flicking over the monochromatically printed words that said 'certificate of...'
The titular depiction of that alone is enough to make him jump.
But, he supposes the sight of Bob's own leaning figure in the doorway, casually fiddling with a cigarette produced from his pocket is the final nail in the coffin; he doesn't even seem angry to have caught someone rummaging through his things ---- didn't even particularly seem to have a reaction. It was all more akin to a strange, cool indifference that was so quiet and aloof it inherently appeared shit-your-pants daunting, what with the man not even bothering to lift up his gaze or face to assess him with his eyes and the fact he's caught him red handed. No, instead, Bob was unflinchingly focusing on the wrapping on his tobacco, as soundless as ever. If a vein didn't pop in Red's head there and there, surely, it never would.
He recovers his footing the only way he quickly knew how.
By trying for the sardonic levity of a half-joke.
-"So, uh, Bob-o, who you writing fan mail to, huh?"-
He quips hoping to God in heaven it'll somewhat lighten the mood.
Or at least irritate him enough to where he won't momentarily strangle him.
Barnes never raises his face, popping instead the now smoothened cigarette filter into his scarred mouth, hands on his hips, gaze fixed, seemingly, to the tip of his own boots; O'Neill's cue to start fumbling and immediately produce a lighter as was their usual ritual, pretending he wasn't scared shitless as the man slowly circled him, seemingly deep in thought. Certificate of what, the intrusive thought returns knocking in curious alarm.
-"Something I don't know? Writing to, uh, Ann Margaret?"-
He jests, flicking the zippo dangerously close to the tiger's deceptively calm jaw.
Within a second, the tip engulfs in a swift wave of embers and smoke.
Barnes's eyes move upwards, towards him.
O'Neill feels the piss freeze up inside of his bladder.
-"Look, Sargerooney. Didn't mean to snoop, aright!?"-
He hastily tucks away his lighter, sensing his own hands tremble like leaves.
Pining to endear himself back into his good graces by using a teasing nickname.
Putting his arms up in a gesture of defeat that was anything but feigned.
You just don't feign these things with Bob of all people.
-"Nobody's telling me nothing and a guy's gotta find out some way, huh?"-
Red whines once Barnes takes a step forward, his face enveloped the mist of nicotine.
He puts up his index finger and vigorously shakes it for emphasis.
-"And nuh-uh, you keep such a tight ship around here I can't even dig up a stray needle! Give me a break!"-
He pleads at that point, Barnes close enough to glare him down like one of those well-trained killer bloodhounds that holds you by the scuff of the throat for a few moments before ripping it to pieces, the nervousness he feels big enough where he leans hard unto the wood of the small standing cabinet behind him, his weight pressing unto the pull-out drawer and with a sickening crack, promptly breaking it off of its hinges with a thud, the unused envelopes, clear pieces of paper and the sole document of the bunch tumbling unto the ground, scattered among their boots. There it was. The offending proof of what Bob was up to, in plain black and white.
―
Certificate of Marriage.
November, 1967.
Tay Nihn Province, Vietnam.
Robert E. Lee Barnes.
―
O'Neill's breath hitches.
Your name was right underneath the Sarge's.
-"Geeze Louise! You tied the knot!?"-
-"Eyup. 'Suppose I did?"-
Is all Barnes casually responds, smoke billowing out through flaring nostrils.
Like a fire breathing dragon without a care in the world.
Vaguely challenging the dissent, but too smugly cool to actually commit to it.
Never crossed his mind to tell his best man, John, huh?
Now, the real question was, who were you and where he met you.
How?
"Who's the girl? Huh? Who's the girl, Bob-o?"-
He starts crowding the man verbally, moping, yes --- demanding answers.
All he gets is needle-point stare that pierces right through him.
-"That's Mrs. Barnes to your ass."-
Bob retorts, correcting him, tone dangerously low and oh, O'Neill could see how things were. This was some sort of mail-order wife situation, huh? One of those correspondence programs funded by the higher ups bleeding heart types up in Washington. Good for personnel morale and shit. Like they did in the wild West with Pioneers, early Settlers and news advertisements. This cocksucker got to ship himself in a woman behind everyone's back, real nice and quiet and he couldn't even get days off to go see Patsy after being crammed in this jungle for six months. He was losing his marbles out here. What surprised Red was that Barnes would ever do any of these things, though. Maybe the easiest way he could meet someone, he figures, by doing it the way he does everything else. Ordering for it. Now, you actually flying out here. You must've been a real piece of work too. That, or straight off your rocker to come looking for a husband in an active war zone. Red scoots down, hastily collecting the scattered papers, envelopes and most importantly, the marriage certificate, smoothing the stack out like it's a handful of rare loot collected out of some Gook's chest. Initially, he hesitates, not knowing where to place, so he carefully lowers it on Barnes's bunk, right alongside the drawer O'Neill practically ripped off of its hinges in fear. Barnes just watches him with an unsurprising, remote disdain. Some groombride, huh? Bun won't believe this. He'll make him and Junior do laundry duty for a week in exchange of this particular piece of gossip. Well, mostly Junior. -"Oh, c'mon, Bob, that ain't fair and you know it!"- O'Neill pleads, feeling his own brow furrow up in distress. Married!? He got married!? And here Red thought this cocksucker disappeared for a couple of days for an annual check up of the damage he sustained on his face; a clean up job and all. Injections for the muscles up at some specialized hospital in Saigon they fly out Lifers too to keep them in one piece. Fuck knows what. -"You get to have a full blown ball 'n chain you're dragging around in the short few days you're gone and I don't even get a break every once in a while!? Not fair! Huh!"- He admonishes judgmentally, watching Barnes nonchalantly inhale the cigarette falling askew in his mouth like he was halfway amused at this point, his nose wrinkling with an aloof sort of delight . Sure. Delight. Not unlike a mean-ass dog that just dug a hole in the garden to hide its bone.
Tight-lipped about you, was he?
-"Ain' nothin' fair 'bout it, Red."-
Barnes retorts simply. Too simply.
Like he knew it wasn't right not to tell anyone he tied the knot and didn't quite care regardless.
-"So, how'd you meet the missus, huh!? How'd you meet!"-
Half-way charmed with excitement, halfway accusatory, O'Neill pries.
Met with momentary silence and that glare, he tries again.
Did he as a bare minimum earn the right to be treated for a beer sometime, sheesh!?
-"I at least deserve the fresh scoop!"-
Red verbally digs met with nothing but a stubborn brick wall.
He fidgets with excitement then, shifting his weight from one leg to another once more.
The realization hitting him like a stray bullet lodged in the back of his skull.
Oh, fuck, she must've been something for Barnes to want to ship her in.
-"Got a picture, huh?"-
He gleefully rubs his hands together in an imp-like eagerness, swearing he spotted something nameless and twinkling in Barnes' eyes rolled in vexation relent when faced with all the tactical nagging as he turned his head away from him. He did not, in fact, grab him by the collar to strangle him and that alone was a good sign.
―
-"Chickenshit, that's like...something made up, man! You're pulling stuff out of your ass!"-
Bunny's phlegm practically ricochets from the red, swirling dust in front of the lined up wooden latrine cubicles when Red tells him and Junior the story --- all of it --- yelling at each other over the whirling, buzzing sounds of helicopters arriving on the nearby open field, relaying the intel as he knew it from Barnes' own mouth and in part as he pieced it together from context and clues and as figured, nobody believed it. In fact, Bun downright seemed like he was a victim of a very dumb prank and Junior was frankly convinced it is all some conspiracy theory to get them both embroidered in the task of performing menial labour in return of this classified information. The Sarge? Their Sarge? Being part of a matchmaking pen pal program aimed at servicemen who have been in the fray for over a decade and gaining a wife out of it who was then flown in-country, in Tay Ninh, so they could meet in person, make it official under military jurisdiction and avoid the hassle of having a proxy marriage? Seems like you never knew a person entirely, even when you thought you knew them. Bunny's incredulously knit brow weighing his credibility visibly relaxes and his puckered mouth parts, the toothpick he was chewing in it nearly plopping open as he vigorously points with the tip of his button nose into the distance, grabbing Junior, who annoyedly whines at the contact, by the forearm.
There, on the ridge overlooking the base was a chopper.
It only takes half a second to spot the outline of a dress fluttering on the wind.
A patch of swept hair concealed by the robust metal plating of the flying vehicle.
Undoubtedly, feminine hair.
And an arm, guided by none other than Bob, ushering you into the Huey.
Bidding the new Mrs. Barnes goodbye.
It was one of those days Bunny profoundly regretted not having his camera on him.
One of the days O'Neill felt more smug than ever before.
No death-threats for you but how about some Barnes headcanons?🤗
𝘚𝘌𝘙𝘎𝘌𝘈𝘕𝘛 𝘉𝘈𝘙𝘕𝘌𝘚 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘕𝘚
ty for my first ask <3
Headcanons before a relationship;
・Barnes has a quietly obsessive personality. Whatever he wants, he'll exert himself to possess. That is, until it comes to you. You're not an inanimate object he can simply pick up and claim, and despite his raging, seemingly dominating demeanour, if he scared you off he knows he mightn't get a second chance. Instead, he steps carefully around you, like a jaguar waiting for the right time to strike and claim it's prey, not wanting to jump in too soon and ruin the hunt. He has to be patient.
・Like an automatic upgrade to his field of vision, as soon as he begins thinking of you, you are suddenly so much more present around the base. He watches you while in conversation with other people, walking to and fro, entering and leaving the medics' tent. He takes note of when it is you go to sleep, when you wake up, what you eat from the small selection available, if you smoke; what brand of cigarettes you smoke.
・His expression of love languages are hard to decipher from his typical behaviour, because of his inexpressive nature. His favourite one is close proximity, probably because it's the easiest to achieve when you're in the vicinity of each other almost daily.
An example of this would be him walking towards you on a path and intentionally hitting off your shoulder. You'd wince, maybe vocalise some sort of annoyance, turn back to him, but he'd keep on walking, playing a one-sided game of cat and mouse with you where he's toying with the mouse while planning on how to catch it.
・Following up to his obsession with close proximity, his fixation on you builds up inside him like a wildfire. Barnes is afraid of eye-contact never, and oh boy if you didn't know that before you sure know it now.
Too many times to count a shiver will run down your spine; like an animal being spooked by something in the dark only they can sense. Once you look around, you realise Barnes had been staring at your for who knows how long. He doesn't shy from your gaze after being caught either, like a criminal caught red-handed too nonchalant to feel a speck of humility nor shame.
・Your first proper interaction with him would probably be out of necessity. You meet for the first time formally while he's being patched up by you in the medics' den.
Even though he's very capable of beginning conversation, he prefers to stare at you while you're so close to him.
・Barnes has pushed any glimmer of hope into the back of his mind when it comes to you loving him. He is unavoidably, evidently, wholly corruptive in his own opinion of himself. Anything he touches turns to dust, to ashes, to ruin. He has blood on his hands, fresh and haunting. Barnes believes if he ever obtained you, as if you were a trophy, he would destroy you too, even unintentionally.
You are too good for him, but maybe that's why he also contradictorily wants you. He wants to be a dog at your heel, he wants to own you, he wants you to acknowledge his passion; his fervent and sickly devotion.
・Barnes didn't make it through several tours of Vietnam and rise to the rank of Sergeant without learning the language of manipulation. His game plan is to make you think you want him, or more so you need him.
He's not noble enough to be wanted, but he's violent enough to be needed.
・He orchestrates situations to save you from. Tells you to fetch something just beyond the edge of the jungle, and while accompanying you leads you past a rock he knows a snake rests under, which he heroically shields you from.
The longer you go without him believing you reciprocate any feelings, the deeper he sinks into deception. He'll leave a venomous critter; either a snake, tarantula or large insect of some kind loose in your tent, and be conveniently close by when you discover your uninvited roommate to perform pest control for you.
・Although I don't think he would talk often about you to anyone in the platoon, the rare occasions someone brave and friendly enough with him decides to question him about his visible attraction to one of the nurses, he'll adopt the mindset that instead of ignoring or scolding them he'll plant a piece of information, an opinion, a piece of his mind, and let them come up with an opinion about it.
The worst they can do is try wing-man for him; no one was dumb enough to compete against Barnes.
・Outside during one of the late-summer nights, Barnes confessed to you while drunk. There was some sort of celebration going on in the camp; maybe a birthday or milestone.
It was just the two of you, the cool breeze escaping from the east horizon brought relief to your overheated body in the warm early night. Barnes evaluated you; knees pressed together, sat on a fallen log opposite him, leaning in to hear what he had to say whilst simultaneously trying to drown out the hum of sound coming from the celebration happening a couple yards away.
Even while inebriated, Barnes wasn't sloppy. His eyes may have glazed over and his words may have slowed down, but the intoxication that crept through your nervous system didn't solely come from your cider in hand. Between pausing to wait for your reaction, he inched closer until his nose was almost touching yours. He pressed a warm kiss on your lips, one calloused hand trying to caress your shoulder ever so gently, as if you would take off like a startled fawn if his touch was too invasive.
Headcanons during a relationship;
・Gloatful, unavoidant about his behaviour. He's the hunter who's got his prised trophy catch in his grasp and doesn't plan on letting you go.
・Possessive. Even before you're officially together by any means, word spreads around base-camp, and with the information you're suddenly unavailable also comes with it the information Barnes decided so; an uncompromising force.
・Within the polyester-sheet-thick privacy of your tent, one of Robert's favourite things to do is lay his head on your lap. In what little spare time you have, one of your favourite pass times is to read. He enjoys listening to you reading out loud whatever book you're reading for him to listen to.
・Lighting your cigarettes for you, the rest of the platoon think you must of cast a spell on him.
・Giving out to him for his mannish untidiness/etiquette like lying in bed with his boots on, hawking up phlegm whenever he feels like it and endangering everyone in close proximity with a loogie, or shouting while listening to sports on the radio.
・He keeps a piece of you with him where ever he goes. Not a photograph, but rather a lock of you hair, a small trinket like a coin with the year of your birth on it, a lighter with both your initials engraved on it, etc.
He might plan on getting your name or something about you tattooed on him, but only after the war is over. As he puts it, he doesn't want "one of those jack-asses with stick and poke" privates in the platoon to permanently mark his body.
・Likes pulling your hair. Both in intimate moments and casually. If he wants your attention, he might stand directly behind you, waiting to see how long it takes before you notice. If he thinks you're taking too long to acknowledge him, he'll tug at the end of your hair without saying a word to let his presence be known.
・With being Barnes' partner comes the burden of the radio. He's not a musical person, and so nine times out of ten the channel playing on his or your radio is a sports game, news, or briefly the weather channel.
"Nuh uh, no way." He'll say with crossed arms when you go to turn the tuner on the radio. The hidden truth about Barnes is that he doesn't have many soft spots, but you doting on him and amorously giving him attention can change his mind. After several pleases and kisses on his cheek he'll sigh and surrender the radio to you.
・Trying to make him smile, kissing him and doting on him til he cringes enough that he breaks a smiles.
・He's silently proud you've admitted your attracted to his Southern accent, but anything else about him and the South easily ticks him off. If you ask him to say Howdy or Yeehaw or any sort of quote from a western cowboy film he'll be uncooperative. Barnes doesn't have a funny bone in his body.
・When lying on a bed or hammock together, he takes up most of the room unapologetically. He spreads out his form, leaving you to find a comfortable way to curl around him, usually ending up very close together, exactly his plan.
・ Singing to him while he rests his head on your chest, staring at the light a lantern on your bedside table illuminates on the wall of your tent.
・He sees you somewhat like a possession; a priceless ornament he wants to place on a shelf away from the world, as if to preserve you from every poison and bad experience out there.
・When asking Barnes what his plans are after the war, he realises his previous plan to die here would mean someone else could marry you after the war.
The girls were scared of him.
It couldn't have been because of his facial injuries, they'd been here at the city hospital longer than you had after all, seen much worse. You supposed it must have been his rough bedside manner. They loved the sweet boys, the charming ones, and from what you'd witnessed they must have spent half their time flirting and the other half actually providing care. But considering how the boys healed up, the flirting seemed to be part of the healing.
Sergeant Barnes wasn't a flirt then. That suited you just fine. Coleen had shoved his file against your chest as you were restocking one of the operating rooms, making you take him as one of your patients. She barely gave you time to grab the file before the papers could spill out everywhere.
After reading through his rather extensive medical history, you headed to the step down unit with fresh bandages in hand. It was quieter in here than the intensive care wards or the floor units where patients were almost ready to be discharged. When you spotted Sergeant Barnes sitting up on his bed, his eyes were already on you.
He didn't react to the polite smile you gave him as you approached, nor did he respond when you introduced yourself. The laceration on his chin went through his lip, it must have been painful for him to-
“I need a smoke,” he ordered plainly, his hand reacting out, obviously expecting you to have a pack on your person like most of the other nurses did.
“When I've finished changing-”
“Now.” You blinked at his blunt interruption, suddenly understanding why Coleen had forced him on you.
“Alright,” you replied slowly, placing down the bandages on the bedside table. He spoke again when you turned around.
“You ain't got none?”
“I. . .I don't smoke.”
“You will,” he replied, his words nothing but a promise. You rushed off out of the unit, managing to plead for two cigarettes from Dorrie before hurrying back to him. He pointedly took both of them, tucking one on top of his ear. It was as if he was silently chastising you for not having them in the first place.
“Well?” He was giving you an expectant look. You stared back helplessly. The hostility of his demeanour was putting you out of sorts. “What. . .you thought the passion of you wanting to help heal folk and such was gonna light this here cigarette?”
Your gut rolled with embarrassment and you felt your cheeks redden. You mumbled an apology and left the unit once more, this time in search for a lighter. Thankfully you bumped into Dr. Foreman who lent you his lighter, appearing understanding when you mentioned who your patient was.
You sucked in a deep breath before walking back to Sergeant Barnes in an attempt to compose yourself. Rather than taking the lighter from you, he jutted out his chin with the cigarette pressed between his lips, expectant and waiting impatiently. You lit it for him and he thankfully didn't criticise you any further as you got to work taking off the old bandage. The stitches looked messier than they should have been and the thick scabs on his upper and lower lips were bleeding slightly.
While you cleaned the wound carefully, you were surprised he didn't blow the smoke right into your eyes. His jaw twitched, he must have been in pain. You slowed even further.
"I ain't a damn china cup," he commented in annoyance. You ignored him and continued at the same pace, concerned that the future scar on his chin and his lips would be as prominent as the one going around his brow. He suddenly grabbed your wrist and wrenched you forwards, your nose almost bumping against his.
"What did I just say?" He murmured softly, his voice juxtaposed the vicious grip he had on you.
"You're in pain," you explained, almost letting out a whimper.
"I can take the pain. You hurry on up and get to the other men, there's plenty of them, ain't there?"
"You're my-"
"I don't take back talk. That's your first and only warning. Now get to work." You stared at him for a brief moment when he released your hand, there was something almost hypnotic about his eyes and his cool, controlling demeanour that compelled you to obey.
You resumed your work at pace, as he had commanded you to. Your hands were getting unsteady as Sergeant Barnes watched you intently while he smoked. Would he chastise you once more? Would he grab you again? Were you going fast enough?
After applying a fresh bandage on his chin, you examined his swollen ankle and put an additional pillow underneath it to raise it even higher. He didn't seem to like that but said nothing on the matter, nor did he comment as you completed the nursing observations, timed his pulse and respiratory rate, checked his temperature and blood pressure. He'd finished the second cigarette by the time you got to the pain score. You purposefully left it until last, wanting to avoid further conversation with him.
He gave you a one out of ten for his face and also for his ankle. You hesitated to note down his answers because he wasn't telling you the truth.
“If I uhh put down a one for your ankle, that means you can walk. . .but you can't just yet, not for at least a couple more days. How. . .how about a three?” You tried to negotiate with him, the Sergeant silently considered your attempt before nodding in reply so you quickly noted down a three.
“Thank you, Sergeant,” you told him, managing to take back the lighter without protest and you hurried out of the unit, wishing that Coleen had cornered someone else before you.
- - -
The next day you were prepared for Sergeant Barnes.
You purchased a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, two of which were promptly returned to Dorrie, and you immediately had one lit before guiding it in between his lips. He thankfully said nothing as you got to work once more.
When you'd returned Dr. Foreman's lighter yesterday, you expressed the need for Sergeant Barnes' pain relief to be reviewed. The doctor had merely chuckled at you, replying that Barnes had always denied pain medication and it wasn't worth the bother. You wanted to refute the notion, explain that the Sergeant was worth the bother, but you knew that you couldn't force the pain relief on him.
From what he'd said yesterday, you assumed that he'd give some justification that the other men needed it rather than him. You wondered what was fostering that mindset. There were plenty of supplies here in the city hospital, there wouldn't be so many when you headed to the front next week.
The swelling of his ankle was subsiding, another two days and you'd like to see whether he could put some weight on it. His pain score remained the same and you jotted down the results from your routine observations. He offered no critic or chastisement. Perhaps he was having a particularly bad day yesterday.
On your visit the next day, when you had replaced his bandage he pulled off the bedsheets and swung his legs off the bed.
“You said two days,” he told you before you could protest at his sudden movement.
“Please could you wait for a moment?” You pleaded as you knelt at his feet, hands gently running over his ankle. Though the swelling was going down nicely, you'd prefer him to rest until tomorrow to be sure. But Sergeant Barnes was seemingly adverse to standard medical practice. As the thought crossed your mind, you felt his hand press down on your shoulder, he rose to stand on one foot and slowly began to put weight on the bad ankle. You stayed on your knees, conscious that moving would mean he'd be placing all of his weight on his feet rather than using you as a crutch.
He was rather good at hiding the pain, and yet it was still evident as you observed him closely. There was tension in his jaw, his eyes flicked from the floor, across the ward, to the ceiling, he leaned even more against your shoulder. Considering what you knew about him, he'd probably start trying to walk around the unit.
“Maybe. . .I can come back later today and we can get you back on your feet again? If you'd like?” You asked softly, trying to walk the fine line between placating him and not wanting to push his body too far.
He gazed down at you for what felt like the longest time before he sat back down on the bed.
“I'll hold you to it.”
- - -
Surprisingly you got used to Sergeant Barnes. You obeyed his previous commands, provided him with cigarettes on every visit and kept focused on your work, on helping him to his feet. He left you well enough alone, commenting only here and there about hurrying up.
He wasn't like the other patients, he was all business. He didn't chat, he didn't gossip, he didn't regal his stories of battle and glory. He didn't confide in you, he didn't attempt to persuade you to get him extra rations, he didn't try his luck trying to steal a kiss from you. It was almost as if he was waiting to get back to the front. He constantly pushed himself to recover as quickly as humanly possible. No matter his pain.
The others dreaded the front, they'd push the thought of it from their mind, they'd chat with you and the other girls about their lives beyond the war, about what they'd be doing during their rest and recuperation time, about learning how to surf in Hawaii, going to the dance halls and partying through the night.
Sergeant Barnes was fully focused on recovering and getting back. There was something. . .robotic about him, something relentless, something not quite human. You supposed it should have unsettled you more than it did.
The day came when you traded your pristine white nurse uniform for fatigues. It was standard issue for medical personnel at the front, both male and female. You liked it in some ways, that it was looser and more comfortable to wear, that the men might see you more as an equal. And yet it dawned on you that were about to truly enter a war zone. Nurses before you had been killed, blown to bits by artillery fire. You supposed if you were gonna go, you'd hope it be quick.
You told Sergeant Barnes that this would be your last visit with him, that you were flying out to the border area first thing in the morning and that another nurse would see out the rest of his recovery.
“Tomorrow hmm?” He murmured and you nodded in reply. It was the only thing he said. You finished up your observations in the usual silence of his company and bid your goodbyes.
You didn't sleep at all that night, mind filled with what was to come. At dawn, you were waiting at the back of the line with Dorrie to get into the truck, your one bag of possessions in hand. You and Dorrie were the only nurses heading out, the rest were soldiers. Two of them seemed to be competing for Dorrie as they both helped her climb up into the truck and were trying to convince her to sit next to them.
You looked at the back of the truck with a sigh, wondering how you were going to climb up so high without breaking your neck. A hand reached then reached out, Sergeant Barnes was staring down at you. He wasn't wearing a bandage on his face. What was he doing here?
“Up ya get, cherry,” he prompted. You held out your hand and he helped you up into the back of the truck, guiding you to the bench opposite him. Your knees brushed against his as you sat down, there was barely any space inside, you wondered how so many people could fit in such a small space. A duffel bag was on the bench next to you, so thankfully you were leaning right up against that rather than someone else.
With your bag resting on your lap, you kept your legs pressed together. Sergeant Barnes' legs were spread, his knees either side of yours. You almost jumped when the back of the truck got closed up half way, you were too distracted.
As the truck got moving, your eyes flickered over to Sergeant Barnes who was already looking at you.
“What are you doing here, Sergeant?” You asked him, having to raise your voice slightly because there must have been at least five different conversations going on. Dorrie was already laughing loudly.
“Got discharged.”
“But. . .I didn't recommend that.”
“So?” He replied dismissively, shrugging a shoulder at you.
“Well usually there needs to be a nurse recommendation and a doctor's authorisation for personnel to be discharged.”
“Well. . .guess I skipped the unnecessary part and just got the authorisation.” There was an uncomfortable twinge in your chest at his harsh words. Was he purposefully trying to insult you by insinuating that you were unnecessary? Nothing on his expression helped you to determine his meaning.
You didn't respond to him, and turned your attention to the view out the back of the truck as the city passed by. If only Dorrie had stayed with you, maybe you could have chatted together, make the journey go a bit quicker.
In your peripheral vision, you saw him pull a cap out of his pocket. He put it on before pulling it down over his eyes and crossed his arms. That was something of a relief, to not have Sergeant Barnes stare at you the whole way. Every now and then, you'd glance over at him, taking in a detail here and there, looking at the watch on his left wrist.
The roads started to get windier as you headed out into the countryside, rice field after rice field rolling past. His knee would knock into you when the truck turned. After an hour or so, one of his knees remained pressed up against you and he continued his leisurely nap, oblivious to what he was doing. Rain began to pelt down onto the top of the truck and Sergeant Barnes remained unperturbed.
As the truck went around another bend, his other knee knocked against you, but then it didn't move away again. He had both of his knees pressed against yours, effectively boxing you in. For a moment, you thought about saying something, but the last thing you wanted to do was disturb him. Who knew what kind of wrath you could awaken if you woke him up? No, you wouldn't do that, you'd simply remain uncomfortable as you were.
The rain had been over for a good half an hour when the truck arrived at the airbase. Three helicopters would take you the rest of the way to the base camp which you'd call home for the next six months. Sergeant Barnes pulled off the cap a few moments before the truck pulled up, finally moving his knees away from yours.
Synopsis: Your company crosses paths with Bravo’s you meet the boys creating some tension, controversy and new found curiosity. Either way you were on a path leading to trouble…
The jungle was dense. You'd think walking in the jungle under the shaded trees would provide some relief to the unforgiving rays but it doesn’t. It's hot, a constant battle between heat exhaustion and mental fatigue. Your company hadn’t slept well in days, though the boys were tough they could handle anything.
Being a part of recon special ops had its perks. You were the few, proud elite single units, spoilt, well taken care of sent out to get the job done with the lower ranks fuck up.
You still couldn’t stand the shit, mud, rats, snakes, god damn booby traps you wanted out the faster the better. You were a small group. Typical recon teams consist of 6 - 8 members. There was you Sergeant, a respectable man, not perfect but enough to keep the others in line. You were a the second head Sgt doubling as a point man and observer. The eyes and ears assisting in decision making and long rang sharp shooter. The other guys, Automatic Rifleman was a beast bing hunk of muscle dealing with suppression fire and enemy detection, your demolitions expert madman never says not to stirring trouble , corpsman or doc an intelligent man with a level head and radio telecom…the cherry new guy. He was keeping up but still you still had to keep an eye on him…
You and your Sergeant push on past the scrubs as you walk threw the jungle like ghosts. You had five unspoken rules, no talking, no sound, no reflection and don’t die. So it didn’t take long for you to notice Bravo Company 25th Infantry division. The hollering, smell of tobacco and gun powder lingering, metal sweat intertwined and a lingering scent of alcohol amongst other things…
It wasn’t uncommon for recon or special forces to cross paths with marine core companies. Your Sgt locked eyes with presumably theirs. There squad was large estimating maybe 30 men or more give or take.
It wasn’t uncommon for recon or special forces to cross paths with marine core companies. Your Sgt locked eyes with presumably theirs. Their squad was large, estimating maybe 30 men or more give or take.
Barnes: “State your business.”
Sgt Sullivan : “Classified, Black ops, recon we are just passing threw…”
The air got tense quickly. The man with heavy scars looked like the boss, very direct, somewhat passive aggressive in nature as your Sgt position was tilling the power scales. Recon isn’t just about enemy info, you have total authority over lower ranks enforcing law in order where needed, your mission needs were also priorities overall else. So Sgt Barnes thought you were a bunch of spoiled military brats, good for nothin’s having not spent time in any real combat. Always having the easy shit…
Sgt Elias: “We are traveling back to home base your welcome to hump with.”
The power dynamic was very one sided. A man hardened, scared and too far gone. Another feeble, weak and reliant on power another copy just like him with red hair and finally the one that spoke warm, soft with good morals still a man. You unintentionally catch Barnes' killing stare as you were analyzing each other. All companies picking you apart with their judgemental gazes. You wore a black water proof hoodie the last thing you needed were the other recruits figuring out you were a woman… It had its perks and its pains.
Sgt Sullivan: “Black ops will follow you at a distance.”
Sgt O’neil: “Your recon guys think you're too good for us!?”
Y/n: “No. Your company is like sitting ducks out here. A sharp shooter's dream.”
Sgt Barnes: “No one gave you permission to speak, recruit!”
Y/n: “That's Sgt Riggs to you. Second to Sgt Sullivan, head of recon.” You try your best not to smirk. You secretly loved pissed off weak men with your presence. With that your company slowly migrated towards base camp. You are always thankful Sgt Sullivan made sure to keep you out of any trouble. You could have sworn one of them was eyeing up a cherry looking guy, fresh out, another with a crazy smile and poorly draw bugs bunny tatt on his inner forearm.
At base camp you had a decent bunkie hall made out ready for you all when you arrived allowing for very privileged comfort of good sleep and very clean conditions. The special treatment definitely didn’t go unnoticed. Barnes company looks on in the distance and you and your men slowly moved their gear into the new head quarters.
Junior: “Look at those guys…”
Bunny: “Tell me bout stuck up assholes. They ain’t killed no gooks or seen action like good old big boy barnes. Ah Barnes”
Barnes: “...”
O’neil: “...they have a women in there company…” All the boys hostel and cheer loudly eager to hear more of this women.
O’neil: “She sounds like a piece of work tho…”
Bunny: “Trust me the bitchy ones are better, more fun to Red.”
O’neil: “Good luck she's a Sgt. I saw her arm badge.”
Bunny: “Barn’s what do you think about that cunts got themselves a female Sgt.”
Barnes: “Women shouldn't be in the military…its a man’s world.”
O’neil: “Bob’s right no way a women should be here unless she cooking on cleaning AH HA HA A” The boys snicker and giggle into O’neil’s joke. Lieutenant Wolfie walked in to check in on his company as he usually did before crawling back into his office.
Lieutenant wolfie: “Mind if I catch in on the Joke Red.” He smiles. They boys from Barnes company never really spectect or paid any attention to Wolfie they choose Sgt Barnes over him any day.
O’neil: “We were talking about the woman recon got.”
Wolfie: “We don’t know that for sure.” The last thing Wolfie wanted was more problems and a woman was going to create problems.
O’neil: “Nah Nah Nah You heard the voice and the bitchy remark definitely a pussy for sure.” O’neil takes a hit of his cigarette.
Wolfie: “Well I best be off and make some calls….” Wolfie awkwardly walks away from the conversation.
In another part of the came the men were also chatting away about the supposed women in recon company. It was becoming a very hot topic even a rumor around the men of base camp and other companies.
Charlie: “Did you really think recon have a chick on board?”
Crawford: “For surree no way can a man sass and seduce another man at the same time.”
King: “AWWww tell me bout it shes got a nice voice I wonder if she can sing.”
Raha: “What you three so cherrie bout.”
Crawford: “Recon in that new building over there they got a woman and she's a Sgt!”
King: “AYE Elias you were close did you get a look at her what did she look like!?
Elias: “I didn’t see much but I can tell ya she's got a nose and nice lips ahaha. But definitely the mysterious type. Sgt Riggs”
Raha: “I like the sound of this Riggs.”
Learner: “Sooo how are we gonna get her into the under world!?”
Elias: “I couldn’t tell yah.”
Crawford: “Dude! There she is!!!” Crawford points to you emerging from the new quarters your hood still on you walked around the camp.
Raha: “...that ain’t no woman! You guys shittin me!”
Crawford: “NO I swear that’s her! Elias you should do show her around base camp!” He smirks. Elias was hesitant it has been a while, approaching woman was not an easy thing. But it was better him then you got into trouble.
“SGT RIGGS!” Elias called out as he jogged up to you catch up with you pace. The men didn’t appear to really take notice of you keeping to themselves as you liked it.
Y/n: “Sgt…I have met you before.”
Elais: “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself before I’m Sgt Elias bravo company but you can call me Elias. I thought I’d offer to show you around base camp…”
Y/n: “...Thank you Elias, that would be a great help.” Elias was happy to hear the smile and tone of your light hearted, sweet voice. He felt proud puff his chest a little as he guided you around the camp.
Thanks like for more parts. I will leave a link when part comes our and attach it to this post follow by a links up idk we will see how it goes. Love you all x
Prompt: I actually had writers block and decided to look through some unfinished stuff and came across this it started at 1k words and I decided to see where my idea's took me...It got out of hand. This is the biggest one-shot I've actually ever done. its over 7k and its my first Bucky fic I'm excited to hear every ones thoughts. (if you don't like don't read)
Warnings: Smut, there fluff lots of it, I have a minor fetish or kink for like Bucky's arm so that may leak in this story. (oops)
Description: You’re a sci-fi writer who happens to support Sergeant Barnes rather publicly in an interview for your latest book, which somehow ends with you being asked to help boost the Sergeants PR.
Thank you to my beta who gave this a quick edit last night @lets-imagine-fanfics
*******
“So, Y/N, as a successful writer of a sci-fi book series everyone is wondering who is your favourite Avenger?” The interviewer asked with a bright white smile that was beyond fake in your eyes.
“That depends on what reason? I mean I know everyone wants me to say Captain America because the hero of my book is noble and righteous much like our good Captain, but to be honest; I most admire Sergeant Barnes.” You replied easily clearly shocking the interviewer as her jaw dropped immediately.
“You mean The Winter Solider?” The interviewer asked sceptically.
“No, HYDRA created The Winter Solider by torturing a good man that fought for this country over 70 years ago. The man who now helps the Avengers and their cause is not the assassin they created but the Sergeant finally getting his life back and once again serving his country despite having every right to retire and live a normal life.” You answered easily, your smile finally real as you spoke passionately about your beliefs on the subject.
“So, you believe that the Sergeant shouldn’t be treated like a terrorist and a killer despite his wrongdoings?” The interviewer sassed back making your face drop instantly.
“I’m sorry…so if Miss Wanda Maximoff came in here and made you kill everyone in this room…would you think it fair to get charged for the murders?” You asked causing her to splutter.
“I think this interview is over and I don’t think I will be taking any more interviews from this station. Oh, one more thing…” You started before staring into the camera.
“Sergeant Barnes, if you are watching this, thank you for your service.” You spoke sweetly into the camera making everyone chuckle under their breaths before you took your exit out of the studio, your manager following you with a panicked expression.
As you stepped outside of the building, your manager tried to keep the paparazzi away but pictures were still being taken and their questions were relentless, so you decided to answer some of their inquiries. Holding your hand up they easily quietened down but continued to take pictures.
“Miss Y/L/N, is it true that your favourite avenger is Mr Barnes or was it a publicity stunt?” You shot the person a glare before crossing your arms.
“No, I truly admire Mr Barnes.” You answered with gritted teeth.
“Do you know Mr Barnes personally?” Someone asked in the back.
“No, but I would absolutely love to meet him one day.” You replied with a happy nod and as you did your manager started tugging on your jacket with wide eyes.
As her words flowed into your ear your jaw hit the floor and everyone started screaming questions again, but you couldn’t breathe, everything you had just said was being watched live from a few News stations and Captain America had seen it all.
“That’s the end of the questions today, thank you so much for your patience’s and thank you to my fans who never stop giving.” You muttered robotically as your manager dragged you away from the crowd straight into a black car that was waiting next to the pavement.
As the car drove, you stared at the floor wishing you knew how this had happened but you knew how… you were the only person to ever speak up about the hardships and horrors Mr Barnes must’ve been through… however you never expected to get so much from it, you had just wanted to share your opinion.
“We’re here, Miss Y/L/N.” The driver stated as you stared up at the Stark tower with wide eyes.
Everything from the entrance to the top floor was a blur, your mind couldn’t function knowing you were about to meet an Avenger. As you entered the room you saw three faces that looked familiar and four that didn’t, but you held your head high hoping your nerves weren’t obvious.
“Miss Y/L/N, thank you for meeting with us on such short notice.” The most famous man in America spoke, making your eyes widen comically.
“Well, when Captain America asks to meet you…you can hardly say no, Sir.” You chuckled nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear before straightening out your dress.
“Please call me Steve. I asked to meet you to thank you for what you said about Bucky in your interview today. You’re the first person I have seen speak about him with such admiration.” Steve stated happily, his smile lighting up the room in a way no one else probably could.
“It was only the truth, S-Steve.” You stuttered shyly your cheeks flushing as you noticed Tony Stark rolling his eyes which made your eyes narrow.
“I’m sorry, do excuse me but is there an issue, Mr Stark?” You huffed with much more attitude than you probably should’ve been aiming at him.
“I just think your ‘opinion’ is wrong.” He stated with an arrogant smirk.
“And I think you married way out of your league and personally think you have a narcissistic personality, but I kept that part to myself when I spoke of the avengers. No offence to your genius and well achieved wife.” You stated as you gave Pepper a nod of apologies.
“None taken, Miss Y/L/N. However, I believe your admiration for Mr Barnes is actually a good thing…he doesn’t get a lot of good publicity and I think you are good for his PR.” Pepper stated making you nod in agreement.
“The Sergeant hasn’t seen that interview, has he?” You asked your face turning bright red as you assessed the room full of people.
“Actually, he’s being shown it as we speak…he should be done in about… oh here he is now.” Steve stated as the man you’d defended walked through the door.
“Oh, for the love of Thor.” You whispered in embarrassment, your hand covering your face as you shot your manager a panicked look.
“Bucky, this is Y/N Y/L/N from the interview… she’s a big fan.” Steve teased, his smirk not going unnoticed by you.
“I must say, Captain, you are much more of an asshole than I thought… and your arms are way bigger than they look on pictures…” You rambled clearly your filter had completely vanished.
“I am so sorry… when I get nervous, I tend to lose my mouth filter just tell me to shut up…Okay…big fan Sergeant.” You added with a bright red face as you turn towards Bucky and held your hand out for him to shake.
“Thanks… Why am I here, Steve?” He huffed with a very uncomfortable half smile as he shook your hand awkwardly.
“I think you and Y/N should spend some time together in public places…I think it would boost your PR and also make you less antisocial.” Steve snorted making Bucky glare at his longtime friend.
“I am not antisocial, I just don’t like most people, and everything is different… even dating is done on the internet now, it’s stupid.” Bucky rolled his eyes before looking at you with a more focused gaze.
“I appreciate your words, Doll, but I’m not about to force you to spend time with me because you don’t hate me like the rest of America.” Bucky spoke to you, and you shook your head.
“I’m actually a big fan genuinely… I think you’re amazing also I agree, online dating is stupid.” You stated his words had made you smile in a way you hadn’t in a while.
“You’re an interesting woman, I’ll give you that, sweetheart.” Bucky chuckled sending you a panty melting smile that made you literally clutch your metaphorical pearls.
“Bucky used to be quite the ladies' man, back in the day.” Steve snorted suddenly making your eyes shoot towards him.
“I was, until this asshole grew muscles, and no woman would pick me over him.” Bucky huffed playfully with an eye roll.
“No offence, Captain, but I think I’d choose the Sergeant…” You whispered to Steve earning a smile from him.
“I can hear you, Doll.” Bucky whispered teasingly causing your face to flush.
“Well… moving on. I would be happy to spend some time with you, if you wouldn’t mind of course. It would be great to get to know you.” You mumbled in embarrassment your cheeks turning bright pink.
“I guess. What could go wrong?”
Everyone’s famous last words.
RENOWNED SCI-FI AUTHOR DATING THE WINTER SOLDIER!
Those words were sprawled across the front page of the New York Times. It wasn’t that people were assuming you’d date Mr Barnes, but more that you’re embarrassed for Mr Barnes because anyone is crazy if they think that man would want to date a silly Sci-Fi author.
“I really hope he doesn’t think I had anything to do with this.” You muttered to your manager, as you rode the elevator up to the Stark PR Office.
“In what world would you want to date a 100 year old man?” She chuckled making you shoot a glare straight at her.
“In every world wouldn’t I date Mr Barnes. He’s charming, handsome and a gentleman.” You snapped back at your manager, making her look down in shame.
You slapped down the paper as you threw your head back in frustration. You had only been on a few outings with Mr Barnes but somehow the sleaze bag journalists deemed that enough to assume you were dating. Your work phone had been ringing none stop all morning with people asking for quote on your supposed new relationship.
You had finally turned your phone off after sending a text to Steve with your personal phone number. The calls were getting too much, and your head was pounding. Your personal phone started ringing so you hurried to answer the call.
“Doll?” The sergeants voice rang out over the speaker making you jolt up straight as you took speaker mode off and pressed the phone to your ear.
“Hi, Mr Barnes.” You muttered sweetly, making him groan.
“I told you to call me Bucky, Doll.” He chuckled making you flush bright red.
“I’m so sorry about the paper, Bucky.” You sighed softly making your manager roll her eyes.
“It’s hardly your fault, sweetheart. It doesn’t bother me let them assume whatever they want. I hope it doesn’t bother you.” He chuckled darkly making you frown.
“It doesn’t. I was more worried you’d be bothered, kind of puts a damper on your single status.” You giggled making him laugh.
“Hey there are worse things. Steve says it’s good PR.” He mumbles causing you to nod only to realise he couldn’t see you.
“I’m popping to the farmers market later would you like to come? Maybe we could go for lunch after?” You asked quietly hoping he would say yes.
“You sure? People might think we’re married next.” He teased making you giggle.
“There are worse things.” You sassed his own words back at him causing another chuckle from the older man.
“Okay, I’ll pick you soon. You okay with bikes?” He asked softly making your heart flutter.
“Hell yes!” You exclaimed happily as you hung up and sent a text with your address.
You quickly ran to get dressed. Sliding on a pair of black skintight cargo pants, khaki green long sleeved cropped Henley with your black leather lace up heels and your teddy bear fur collared leather jacket.
Your hair was curled loosely, your makeup was simple with a glowing base. You deemed the outfit acceptable for the market and a bike ride.
You gave yourself a nod in the mirror, just as you received a text from Bucky telling you he was here. You bid your manager goodbye, telling her to lock up when she left, before running out the house with a smile. You spotted Bucky immediately stood next to his bike with a very serious scowl on his face.
When he spotted you, his scowl was replaced by a grin as he took you in, his eyes scanning you up and down. You flushed softly as his arm brushed you when you were close enough.
“You look beautiful.” He stated awkwardly as he hopped on his bike passing you a helmet which you glared at him for since he didn’t look like he was about to put one on.
“Thank you. Though these are my casual clothes.” You giggled before putting on the helmet.
He held out his hand helping you onto the bike behind him. You were unsure of where to put your hands, so you just gripped onto the back of his leather jacket, however he seemed unsatisfied with that, so he grabbed your hands and looped them around his waist. You linked your fingers together tightly trying not to let your mind stray to how solid his abdomen was.
He soon sped off causing your heart to pound in your chest. You loved bikes but you were always too scared to get your own so you enjoyed it while you could. He sped around cars carefully until finally, much to your dismay, you arrived at the farmer's market.
He helped you off the parked bike before hopping off himself. He looked around noticing a few stares causing you to glare at some of them. You ignored them as you looped your arm with his metal one which appeared to shock him as he immediately tensed up.
He gradually relaxed, sending you a grateful smile as he patted your hand that was gripping his bicep with his human one. You both began strolling through the market until you spotted a stall with fresh fruit. You tugged him towards the stall with a soft giggle as he rolled his eyes.
“What’s your favourite?” You asked as you scanned the contents of the stall.
“Plums, I guess.” He grumbled in his usual grumpy tone.
“Is being out with me that bad?” You asked with a sad frown as you began letting go of his arm.
His eyes widened as his hand shot out to keep your arm around his bicep. He shook his head silently before pulling you closer.
“I can hear them talking.” He explains and suddenly you felt awful for forgetting he could hear better than you.
“Ignore them. Let’s get some plums and, Hmm how about strawberry and cherries?” You muttered casually as you pulled him towards the strawberries.
“Whatever you want, Doll.” He chuckled softly as he allowed you to tug him along.
You finally let go so you could go pay but Bucky beat you to it paying for everything in the bag as you stood off to one side with a pout on your face. Once he’s done paying, he turned around to face you but suddenly his eyes flicked behind you widening.
Before you knew what was happening Bucky grabbed you by the waist and spun you to the other side of himself just in time to see a guy on a moped speed past Bucky. He’s just saved your life your eyes brimmed with tears from the shock but as Bucky saw this, he must’ve thought he’d hurt you because he instantly pulled away.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you, Doll.” He whispered; guilt evident in his voice.
“No, you didn’t. You saved my life.” You sniffled with a pout as you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.
“Are you okay?” He asked gently as a few people were watching the both of you.
“Mhmm, thank you, Bucky.” You whispered against his solid chest.
“Come on, let go get some lunch.” He muttered into your hair before pulling away. Though he kept his arm around your shoulder as you kept yours around his waist.
You strolled down the sidewalk before leading Bucky into a little café that you enjoyed. You spent a lot of time writing in this café so sometimes fans would find you here, but you ignored the stares as you made your way to the checkout. You ordered your usual as Bucky read over the drink and food options, in the end he ordered the same as you before you both found a little table just outside the café.
“So, your book must be quite popular?” He asked softly making you smile proudly.
“Yeah, I just published my second one in the series.” You replied happily.
Just as he was about to reply a young girl came up to the table holding a copy of your book which made you smile widely. She seemed a little scared to talk so you helped her by starting the conversation.
“How are you liking the second one?” You asked softly with a bright smile still on your face.
“Hi, I’m Veronica, It’s amazing! I’m such a big fan I used to read your work on Wattpad before you published. You’re so talented.” She rambled excitedly her enthusiasm making you chuckle.
“Oh, thank you, that’s so sweet.” You laughed happily as Bucky watched the exchange quietly.
“Is it true that you two are dating?” She suddenly asked making you glance at Bucky who seemed to stiffen in his seat.
“Sorry, that was really inappropriate. Well either way your true fans are totally routing for you! It’s nice to meet you, Sergeant Barnes.” She suddenly said before you could answer.
“It’s nice to meet you too.” Bucky replied politely with a small nod.
“Can I get a picture with both of you?” She asked rather shyly.
You glanced at Bucky who gave you a nod before you looked towards Veronica and gave her an affirmative nod. You both stood up one on either side of her before she pulled out her camera. Bucky had a straight face as she aimed the front camera upwards.
“Smile, Bucky.” You snorted as you nudged his metal arm.
“Sorry, Doll.” Bucky huffed with a playful eye roll which made Veronica laugh.
She took her picture and thanked you both before running off back to her table where her friends were waiting. You glanced at Bucky who seemed awkward after the encounter, but you nudged him before you both took your seats.
“You could’ve said we weren’t dating.” He said suddenly making you frown.
“Would you prefer I told them that?” You asked seriously.
“No, but you don’t have to let people think you’d date me just to spare me.” He sighed softly making you pout a little.
“I would totally date you.” You blurted out making both yours and his eyes widen. You covered your face as it began heating up with a blush.
“Hey, Doll?” Bucky whispered as he pried your hands away. “I’d totally date you too.” He teased making you hide behind your hands again.
“I know you haven’t danced since the 40s, however there’s a really cool bar that plays stuff from 1930-1960s, if you’d like to go with me tonight?” You asked as you lowered your hands, once again not daring to look him in the eyes.
“You asking me to go dancing with you, Doll?” He chuckled playfully as our food and drinks arrived.
“Yes.” You giggled softly as you pulled out your phone and passed it to him once you’d found the video you wanted. It was a video of you dancing at the same bar with your grandad.
“That’s my grandad, he taught me how to swing dance.” You chuckled as Bucky watched the video.
“You look like you jumped right out of my era.” He laughed as he seemed to be enjoying the video.
“What’s this song? It’s quite good.” He asked with a small smile on his face.
“One of the greatest musicians of the 50s and 60s Elvis Presley. The song is Jailhouse Rock.” You replied casually as to not make him feel bad for not knowing.
“I would love to go dancing with you. Although I don’t know how good I’ll be now.” He grumbled awkwardly as he seemed to shrink a little.
“We’ll start slow and if you don’t wanna dance, that’s fine too.” You said trying to ease his tension.
“Deal. Thank you, Doll.” He chuckled his mood lightening instantly.
**************
You were wearing a taffeta midnight blue, a line dress that had a wrap style around the bust, paired with cream leather original Mary Jane heels. A cream lace snap handbag with pearl earrings for accessories.
Your makeup was simple with a black wing and red lips, which you checked for the fifth time making your mother roll her eyes. You ignored it as you turned to your grandmother with a concerned frown.
“Are you sure I can borrow great nana’s stuff?” You asked your grandmother for the third time.
“Honey, I’m hardly going to wear that stuff now. Plus, with that hunk of a man as your date, who would say no.” She whispered making you laugh at her words.
“Hey, that’s my hunk, even if he is older than you.” You laughed making her join you as your mother just shook her head at your antics.
Just then there was a knock on your front door making you freeze as you look at your grandmother who seemed to be contemplating running for the door. Your shot her a glare before making a break for it, you ran rather fast for someone in heels, but you hurried to grab your bag and keys before bolting out of the apartment.
“Woah! You okay there, Doll?” Bucky laughed as you ran right into him.
“My mom and Nana are in there.” You whispered shyly making his eyes widen.
“My nana brought round my great nana’s dress.” You added as he finally took in your outfit as he stepped back.
“Wow.” He whispered under his breath before clearing his throat and standing up straight as you took in his appearance.
He was wearing a black double-breasted suit with a white shirt and black satin tie. He had black shiny shoes too match his hair has been cut too which made you both sad and excited all at the same time. You’d miss his long hair, but you couldn’t argue he looked hotter than hell with short hair.
“Fucking hell.” You whisper under your breath as you tried to stop your heart from beating out of your chest.
“My sentiments exactly.” Bucky chuckled as he scanned you up and down once again.
“I keep forgetting you can hear better than me.” You laughed awkwardly as you held your small bag tightly in your hands.
“It’s fine. Come on, I borrowed Steve’s car so you wouldn’t have to ride the bike in a dress.” He stated as he held his left arm out for you.
You were happy he finally warmed up to touching you with his metal arm, usually he tried to use his right arm whenever he touched you. Unless you made the first move.
You drove to the bar in silence as Bucky drummed away on the steering wheel as if trying to bat away whatever anxiety was eating away at him. You reached over to grasp his hand in yours, giving him a soft smile, silently telling him you were here.
“We can turn around, Buck.” You whispered gently, your face softening.
“No. No, I can do this.” He replied just as softly.
He released your hand before opening the driver's side door and stepping out. He ran around to the passenger door to open it for you, holding out his hand for you, his leather gloves still on much to your disappointment. You took his hand with a vibrant grin taking over your face.
As you walked inside Bucky must’ve been expecting to be stared at again because he kept his head down and his other hand in his pocket. However, when you nudged him, he finally looked up only for his eyes to widen as he looked around.
“Is that my face?” He asked as his jaw hit the floor.
“Yeah, the walls are covered with historical war figures. The owner, Sal, has had that picture up here since the world found out, said and I quote ‘These government bastards take everything and give nothing.’” You chuckled as he glanced up to find everyone staring, not in malice but in respect.
Once everyone had given a nod of respect, they went back to their nights. You pulled Bucky to the bar as he seemed to relax a lot more now. He was glancing around in awe of everything, what you didn’t realise was that for Bucky, you’d just given him a second to remember who he used to be.
“You’re amazing.” He suddenly blurted out making you jump a little.
“I think the same thing about you, Sergeant.” You giggled as you order a whiskey and a martini.
You sat chatting over two drinks before jailhouse rock came on and Bucky stood from his seat, holding out his hand silently and you took it happily.
He spun around as you reached to dance floor before his feet started moving subtly at first until he finally gave into it and letting his muscle memory from the 40s take him back. You were both so in sync with each other even when he did the first lift, thank you God you’d worn the booty shorts underneath. You were having so much fun that 4 songs went by before finally you both decided to get a drink.
“I’ve not danced like this since 1942.” He pants a little making you chuckle as you sipped a coke.
“You dance very well, Sergeant Barnes.” You flirted, batting your lashes at him.
“As do you, Miss Y/L/N.” Bucky chuckled equally as flirty.
You chatted for the rest of the night until it got to 2am when Sal finally announced he was closing. You and Bucky said goodnight to those who were leaving too, before making your way to the car. You didn’t want the night to end but you had to sleep eventually.
You held Bucky’s hand all the way home, occasionally smiling over at the older man who would smirk but never take his eyes off the road. You hadn’t ever felt this connected to someone before, it felt like how they described love in books.
You both walked up the stairs your arms wrapped around his bicep enjoying the feeling as he remained rather silent. You leaned your head against his bicep as you arrived at your front door.
“I had so much fun tonight.” You whispered shyly making him glance down at you with a pleased smile on his face.
“Me too.” He responded quietly; his eyes full of adoration.
“I would very much like to do this again.” You stated calmly as you pulled away, your back now facing your front door.
“That can be arranged.” He chuckled as he stepped a little closer causing you back to press against the door.
You stared into each other’s eyes longingly as your heart began racing against your chest. You never wanted to kiss someone as badly as you did at that moment. His eyes were slightly dazed as they drifted to your lips, until finally he granted your silent wish.
His surprisingly soft lips were on your red ones. Thank God you’d worn your good lipstick. His hand came up so carefully to touch your cheek as he urged you closer. It was then that you had realised he didn’t have gloves on, and it was his metal hand on your face.
You let out a soft gasp at the feeling of the cold metal on your bare skin. He must’ve thought something different because he pulled back looking guilty about something, which confused you until he tried putting his gloves back on. You instantly snatched the leather out of his hands before grabbing his metal hand and being back to your face.
“I made that noise because I wasn’t expecting it and I definitely wasn’t expecting how turned on I got from your metal hand touching me.” You chuckled awkwardly making his eyes widen a little before he was suddenly on you again. His lips kissing you with much more passion and less innocence than the first one.
He backed you up until finally your back hit the door and your hands flew around his neck, pulling him closer - if it was even possible. His flesh hand was on the door at the side of your head, whilst his metal one was cupping your cheek.
You both got lost in the kiss for a few more minutes until you were out of breath. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. He looked down at you with hooded eyes as his metal thumb brushed across your bottom lip.
“God, you’re making it really hard to be gentleman right now.” He whispered against you lips like he was trying to do anything to distract himself.
“You're not using me for a lay, are you?” You asked softly making his face sober up instantly.
“No, I would never do that to you, Doll.” He replied seriously making you grin from ear to ear.
“Then this is the 21st century, Buck, women can do what they want. So, Sergeant…would you like to come in for some coffee?” You asked in a sultry voice that instantly brought back that same dazed look.
“I don’t know what kind of idiot would say no to you.” He chuckled huskily as he placed open mouthed kiss on your lips before pulling back completely.
You took that opportunity to spin around and unlock your door silently. When you got inside the apartment Bucky trudged behind you slowly, as if waiting for you to change your mind. You weren’t going to, granted you wouldn’t usually bring a first date home, but it wasn’t like Bucky was a stranger. You had been friends for a few weeks, coffee dates and lunch plans even a movie at one point, so you had no regrets inviting this sweet man in.
He rarely allowed you to pay for anything, always held the door open for you, always helped you up and downstairs like you were a lady. You were a woman sure but a ‘lady’ you weren’t graceful or polite enough to be one. But that didn’t matter to Bucky because he always treated you like one. Yes, it’s slightly outdated but he also respects your opinions and values them. He really listens when you talk even about things he doesn’t understand.
“Would you like me to make the coffee while you sit down. Dancing in heels can’t be kind to your feet?” He asks gently leaving you smiling like an idiot.
“Coffee is for the morning, Sergent.” You whispered seductively as you grabbed his metal hand and started pulling him towards the bedroom.
“You are a minx.” Bucky chuckled as he followed you until you came to your bedroom.
“I-I haven’t…” he started but strayed from his own words as he contemplated how to say it.
“You haven’t had sex in a while?” You finished for him making his eyes lower to the ground.
“We can wait, if you want?” You asked softly as you cupped both his cheeks making him look at you.
“No, it’s not that, I just don’t want to disappoint you.” He mumbled shyly making your heart literally stutter in your chest.
“You could never disappoint me unless you ever forced yourself to do something you weren’t comfortable with.” You whispered soothingly making a smile tug at his lips. You stepped back and confidently undid you dress before letting it fall to the floor leaving you in underwear and boots shorts.
“You’re one of a kind, Y/N Y/L/N.” He whispers against your lips before you began helping him remove his jacket and tie.
“So are you. You quite literally just turned me on saying my name.” You teased, your tone flirty as your hands tugged at the short hairs at the back of his head, sliding them down until you were at the buttons of his shirt. You began undoing each button until he finally shed the damn thing.
“Well, I do apologise, Miss Y/L/N, let me rectify that.” He replied playfully as he grabbed the back of your thigh, pulling you up and wrapping your legs around him. He then carried you over to the bed with ease as his hand gripped at your thighs.
He lowered you down so gently you wished he’d be rougher, but you knew he’d have to work up to that, just like with his metal arm. You stared into his eyes before running your hand over his chest and all the way to his metal arm. He stiffened for a second before smirking at you.
“You appear to have some sort of fetish for my arm, Doll.” He whispered
“It’s called a kink and 100%.” You giggled making him roll his eyes.
“You strike me as a woman who likes romance and gentle acts, but I have a feeling I’m wrong.” He chuckled making you smirk.
“Oh yeah, I love romance too but without sounding too crude, Sergeant, I’d rather you fuck me like an unhinged animal.” You stated confidently making his eyes widen.
“Fuck…can’t say shit like that, baby.” He groaned as he buried his head in your bare collar bone. The new nickname had your heart practically out of your chest as you let out a little whimper.
“Fuck me, Sergeant.” You whimpered a hint of desperation in your voice as you clutched at both of his biceps.
“Need to do something first.” He growled as he started down the bed and before you could ask, your panties and shorts were off, and Bucky was on you.
His lips leaving kisses and nibbles wherever he went. You had no doubt the inside of your thighs would be covered in love bites by the end, but you didn’t care. When he licked a stripe up the top of your inner thigh a breath away from you heat, your back arched off the bed as your hands gripped at the sheets.
“You don’t have to, Buck.” You whispered sweetly despite that being the opposite of what you actually wanted.
“Oh, I know but I’ve been thinking about doing this all week, baby. Need to taste you.” He said his tone pleading, before finally his lips were on your clit dropping a small kiss there.
His tongue licked up your slit with the happiest groan you’d ever heard before. His tongue began drawing small shapes on the tiny bundle of nerves. You bit you lip to contain the noises that were coming out your mouth, but when Bucky saw this his flesh hand came down on the outside of your thigh. The sensation had you gripping his hair with both of your hands.
“Dirty girl.” He whispered into your heat before his tongue was back on you.
His flesh fingers came down to join as he slid two inside you at an agonisingly slow pace. You half wished he’d use his metal hand, but you were sure if that would be as fun as it sounded in your head. He immediately curled his fingers upwards making you practically see stars.
“Oh, fuck yes, Buck.” You moaned as he sucked lightly on your bundle of nerves.
“God, you taste like heaven.” Bucky groaned as he starts lapping away at you like a mad man. You screamed out unable to hold it back anymore as you began practically humping his face.
His metal hand gripped your thigh and suddenly you felt yourself building up to that high. He slid the warmed metal up your torso up to your bra before he ripped it off, the two cups no longer sewn together. You couldn’t even be angry because it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.
“So close…please, Bucky.” You moaned as your back once again arched off your bed.
“I got you…cum for me, baby.” He muttered huskily, his breath fanning across your clit before he started his ministrations back up.
His tongue felt so wet and soft it was making your head spin, how he was eating you like a man starved. It sounded dirty but the noise only served to drive you closer to the edge. He started thrusting his two fingers harshly into your g-spot making your eyes roll back into your skull.
“B-Bucky.” You stuttered between moans as you finally fell over the edge. You thrust against his face riding out your high until it became too sensitive to do so.
“Need you, Buck, p-please.” You whimpered as you began undoing his slacks.
“You’re so pretty when you beg, baby.” He chuckled teasingly as he pulled himself up, wiping his stubble covered face as he smirked down at you.
“If you want me to beg, Sergeant, I’ll beg.” You whispered in a sultry tone.
“Please, Sergeant, need your cock…need it so bad please, sir.” You begged prettily, batting your eye relishes at him with a hint of faux innocence.
“Fuck, baby.” Bucky groaned as you pulled down his pants and threw them to one side with his boxers.
You glanced down at his member it was thick. He was big too, but his thickness was beyond anything’s you’d had before. God that was gonna fill you up. You bit your lower lip as you tried to not moan just from the sight of his painfully hard member.
His metal fingers wound around your neck softly not wanting to hurt you but just the feeling of the fast-cooling metal had your head spinning. You leaned into his touch making his eyes darken as he squeezed once before going back to resting it there.
“Not gonna last long, baby.” He whispered as he lined his member up with your entrance.
“Don’t care just need to feel you. Can cum inside - on contraception.” You stated desperately, the words seemed to make him beyond enthusiastic.
He slid inside you, stretching you a little leaving a slight burn in its wake but you relished in it. You’d never felt so full, it was bliss. Your arms around him, dragging your nails down his back with enough force he groaned into your ear.
“You feel so good.” He moaned deeply into your neck as he left a small bite there.
“Fuck me, Bucky.” You pleaded as you left small kisses trailing down his face until you finally got to his lips, bringing him in for a heated kiss.
He began thrusting in and out of your heat, grunting and groaning into your mouth as you battled for dominance. You knew you’d hand it over in an instant but the little battle you were having was spurring him to go faster and deeper.
His metal hand was still on your throat as he completely took over your every sense. You could feel yourself building again, you’d never came from penetration before, but you felt so good right now. You whimpered into the kiss before pulling away to look into his eyes.
“Bucky.” You moaned quietly as his thrusting became stuttered. You began thrusting your hips inwards as you felt you peak nearing once again.
“Cum with me, Y/N.” He groaned as he stared into your eyes.
With a few more well times thrusts from both parties, you both came together, clinging to one another as you both rode out your orgasms. Bucky finally stilled as he stared down at you with a new emotion that you hadn’t ever seen in his face, but you decided at that moment it was the prettiest face you’d ever seen.
“You’re going to steal my heart, Sergeant Barnes.” You whispered breathlessly against his lips as your eyes flickered between his lips and eyes.
“I’ll keep it safe.” He replied sweetly as he seemed to catch his breath back.
Bucky tried to clean you but you stated you’d need to pee anyway, so you didn’t get a UTI which he understood. He slid his boxers on after giving himself a wipe as you finally finished and ran back to bed in his white shirt that had been discarded on the floor.
“You look tiny in my clothes.” He chuckled as he pulled you into his arms the second you were on the bed.
You let out a giggle as you snuggled into his chest happily. This was more than you could ever ask for, this man had worked his way into your thoughts and life like he was always supposed to be there. And you didn’t have a single complaint.
“Night, Buck.” You whispered as he pulled the covers over both of you.
“Night, Doll.” He replied softly as he pressed a kiss to your hair.
*********
It was sometime in the early morning when the sound of broken whimpers dragged you from your slumber. You sat up, grogginess still resonating as you glanced down at Bucky was gripping the sheets in a deadly grip. You immediately knew what this was. Your father had PTSD after 10 years of serving his country and you knew what a night terror looked like.
You knew you shouldn’t wake him because he could get violent especially if you touched him. So, you decided to get up and make coffee. It was 6am which was an acceptable time, so you got out of bed despite wanting desperately to wake him up.
You walked to the kitchen and began preparing the coffee machine. Once everything was prepped you started the machine and made you way to the bedroom with no intention of being quiet. You dug around your closet for a pair of joggers that used to be your brothers that you figured would fit before turning around.
“Babe!” You shouted towards the bed but there was no change.
You glanced down at his face that was still scrunched in a pained face and you decided you didn’t care if he hurt you, you couldn’t leave him like that.
You decided a gentle approach might work so you slipped into bed and began kissing his naked chest. It was around the time you pressed one just under his ear his whimpers of pain turned into needy groans.
“Doll?” He groaned as you nibbled in ear lobe before pulling away.
“Morning, Buck, coffees on.” You giggled as he arms wrapped around you.
“It’s still early baby what are you doing up?” He asked softly since you’d only had 3 hours of sleep.
“You we’re having a night terror, but I knew I shouldn’t wake you cos obviously it’s dangerous but you wouldn’t wake up even when I stomped around the house like an elephant. So, I kissed you awake.” You replied gently hoping not to make him feel bad.
“I’m so sorry, Doll.” He muttered as he sat up, staring at bed with a scowl on his face.
“My dad served for 10 years. He finally retired when I was in high school…but he still has some night terrors even now.” You supplied before taking his metal hand in yours.
“It’s normal to have them when you were forced to do things you didn’t want to do, Buck. I don’t mind I just hate that you have to suffer through them.” You whispered sadly as you climbed into his quilt covered lap.
“You’re too sweet to me Doll.” He muttered shyly into your chest; his head buried completely in your breast.
You ran your fingers through his short hair making him sigh happily as his waist wrapped around you tightly. He eventually pulled away his eyes boring into yours as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
“How did I get so lucky?” He chuckled as you preened from the compliment.
“It’s not luck. I think I was made for you.” You whispered jokingly making him roll his eyes.
“Mmm, that would make sense.” He laughed as you climbed off his lap.
“I found you some of my brother's joggers for you.” You stated as you passed him the joggers.
“Thank you, Doll. I’m surprised you don’t want me gone yet. We practically spent a full 24 hours together.” He laughed as he stepped out the bed and slid into the comfy pants.
“You’re very goo-”
Suddenly your phone was blowing up with notifications from messages and Google alerts that told you when something was published about you. You glanced down at the newest article but this one actually brought a smile to your face.
“What’s going on?” He asked cautiously as he glanced over your shoulder.
‘Secretly sweeter than Cap?’ Was the caption written across the New York Times digital paper today.
‘It appears our most hated avenger may be our new favourite. James was seen with our favourite sci-fi author at the market yesterday morning buying fruit when a bike almost ran her over and according to my sources was quickly spun out of harms way by the Sergeant himself. (How very rom-com of you, Mr Barnes.) Later that morning the couple was spotted talking to a fan of Y/N’s and even taking pictures with her. (Picture below.)
Now as I was editing this article it came to my attention that they were also found to have gone dancing later that day which was apparently filmed by one of the Sergeants few fans. (Link below)
This may be our new favourite couple. We wish you the best Ship/Name!’
You couldn’t believe it finally people were warming to him, and you couldn’t be happier. You glanced at him to see his eyes widened but you could see a small smile forming on his lips. As he glanced at the pictures that had been taken of you both.
“I like these pictures.” He stated seriously making you giggle.
That’s when Bucky’s phone started going off. He quickly answered the phone before putting it on speaker as soon as he knew it was Steve.
“You didn’t come home last night.” He said first making you giggle again which you tried to cover up with your hand.
“On the first date, Bucky?” Steve whispered like it was beyond scandalous.
“It’s the 21st century, Cap!” You huffed as you began walking to the kitchen, Bucky following you closely behind.
“Yes, I’m aware. Times have changed.” He grumbled rather childishly.
“Don’t be sad, Cap. You need to loosen up. Get laid.” You teased making Bucky laugh whole heartedly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“I’m done with this conversation. Have a good day we’ve got no work today so come back whenever.” He groaned with what you imagined was an eye roll.
“Oh, I will definitely have a good day. Bye, Steve.” Bucky chuckled as he brought you in for a heated kiss.
“Let’s get you fed and some coffee then we’re going back to your bedroom.” He growled playfully making you flush softly.
“Yes, Sergeant.” You moaned against his lips before running to get coffee as Bucky started cooking.
miss birbs... im losing my mind ab you writing duck and cover again 🥺 it’s how i found your writing and it still stands out as one of the most well done atmospheric pieces of fiction i’ve ever read—not just fanfic 🥺🥺 im so excited 🥺🥺 you’re a phenomenal writer 🥺 that’s all goodnight miss birbs ✨💞
sway ; duck and cover ; b.b.
medic!reader and sergeant barnes share a dance. the war is far away. everything will be alright. for now. a duck and cover piece.
rating: T, pining & tenderness & lovesickness
pairing: sniper!bucky x medic!reader, established here
word count: 1k, a short one
a/n: i missed these two dearly. i hope this makes some of you smile today. remember to drink some water. enjoy.
You step out of that bustling bar, out into the evening air, and it's like crashing through a wave. The calm swallows you whole.
The music fades away with the jeers and laughs and for a short moment, the only sound on that street is the rush of a breath that the chill steals from you. You're drunk enough that the cold doesn't bother you much — just knocks at your knees through your stockings.
Your eyes roam along the entrance to the bar. There are a few folks out here, lingering for a quiet smoke before heading back into the rabble. It's calm; the haze of smoke hanging under the moonlight. Voices mingle, and you find your eyes swimming with a bleary sense of drunkenness.
The world tips like a cradle being lulled. Slow. Steady. Gentle.
Around you are men in uniform, girls in dancing dresses. Above, the stars glimmer.
You'd come out here to find the one Bucky Barnes — but now, the quiet has settled you into a thankful pass of a moment.
Right now, under the moon and stuck in the middle of the sidewalk, there is peace. The war is far away; the usual ring in your ears isn't so loud now, and you don't feel that lead weight in your heart. The echoes of the last few months quiet down, and you can feel a gentle smile tug at your cheeks.
Everything will be alright.
And when the war is over...
Your eyes turn to the sky — and then there's a clearing of a throat behind you.
You whirl, face split from bliss, and ready to offer an apology to the person you'd no doubt been blocking in the doorway. But, instead, you come face-to-face with the very man you'd followed after.
Bucky's expression is tender.
Your words are like he's swept the air from your lungs. In a way, he has. He always does. You hate it.
"Thought you went for a walk."
"M' a slow mover."
You hum.
Had he been hoping you'd follow?
"Y' alright?" he asks, brows tugging tight together as he steps up beside you on the sidewalk. His shoulders brush yours. He takes a long drag of his cigarette. Slowly, he lifts his chin, trying to see what you'd been staring at up in the inky black of the sky.
Your eyes are stuck to him the entire way.
The warm light from the bar's windows paint him hues of vanilla and caramel. His dress uniform looks softer, now. All of him does.
The war is far away.
Everything will be alright.
You huff a laugh as you slip your eyes shut.
"Yea," you say quietly, "M' alright."
Bucky eyes you, dark gaze flicking across your face as you stand there and sway gently on your heels. The bar's merriment carries on. Couples brush past you both. The two of you stay rooted, two worlds orbiting around one another.
The sniper offers you his cigarette.
You slip it between your lips.
When you hand it back to Bucky, your red lipstick adorns the Lucky Strike. Bitterly, he takes a drag. There will be your rouge on his lips — but not from a kiss. The thought makes his lungs burn.
Your fingers brush his sleeve.
There's quiet again.
The stars are still dancing. Slower now.
"Why'd you come out here, doc?" Bucky asks finally, words slow as molasses and laden with tender curiosity. His jaw tenses; the whiskey in his belly makes him feel like whatever your next words will be, he can handle it.
In truth, he isn't expecting you to shatter his whole world with a smile that's enough to make him believe in God again.
"You ran out before I could ask y' for a dance, Sergeant."
Christ alive, he laughs — a bright guffaw that riles a proud smile out of you. It's a rarity, and it has the tall Sergeant shaking his head as he toes out the bud of his cigarette as he swallows down the dimpled smile on his face.
There it is again — the quiet. But this time, it's only you two on that street. His eyes are stuck to yours, and you fidget with your fingers as you match his gaze. The smiles there, warm and bright, are enough to spur you both into another bought of quieted chuckles.
And that's how he finds himself here now, with you in his arms and his feet carrying him to the slow, crooner's tune that a British Airmen plays on the keys in the back corner.
You sway, easy and gentle; your cheek lays against his shoulder. The wool itches your cheek. His hand is settled neatly on the small of your back. Bucky's hand holds yours, warm and calloused.
(Now, the ever-present stain of blood and grime that has settled into the lifelines of your palms is gone. After all, the war is far away. And everything will be alright.)
The bar has begun to empty, and still — you and Bucky dance.
A small promise of peace.
And when the piano finally stops, when you've finally ridden out your buzz and sleep has crawled into its place, you find that Bucky Barnes looks different than before.
If you weren't so bleary-eyed, maybe you'd have known it as lovesickness. The same sort of chronic condition that's seeped into the sinews of your heart.
But for now, you bury your wishful thinking and take his hand when he says softly:
Summary: Sergeant Barnes is too much of a distraction and you get caught...
Author’s Note: This is for the continuation of the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabbles and the awesome prompt below sent in by @prunes-said-bucky and the week of kinks and 2k follower celebration! Today I went with choking and metal arm kink...I mean. Yea. Hope you all enjoy this and thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤
Warnings: metal arm/choking kink, implied smut, an angry Sgt. Barnes, cursing.
Week of Kinks Masterlist
Day 1: Bow tie and neck: Keep Quiet
Day 2: Beard and floofy hair: Plum Lovin’
Day 3: Knife and hands: An Edge in the Kitchen
Training with Bucky had always been physically challenging. You didn’t mind it, not at all. In fact, you enjoyed it. But this. This was different. Every mistake you made was pointed out loud and clear for everyone to hear. You felt like he was picking on you and every time you had to say the words, “yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you wanted to punch him.
It was hard to pinpoint when the change happened, Bucky typically happy with your work ethic and progress, but you knew you had made a big mistake earlier in the week. He had you pinned to the mat, a killing stroke only seconds away and you got distracted. You didn’t mean to, but you let your attraction for the man cloud your focus.
Bucky knew you were distracted, and he was pissed. Whether or not he knew the reason behind it you weren’t sure, but you were determined to not let it happen again. That is, until today. This time you’re pinned against the wall by Bucky’s hard body, his hot breath fanning your cheek as his metal hand squeezes around your throat.
He isn’t squeezing hard; he would never hurt you. It’s just enough to get his point across. You’re in a bad spot again. You try to think of the right move to use to get out of his hold, but your mind is foggy from his closeness and the feel of his hand around your neck.
Grazing his lips to your ear he whispers, “what are you gonna do now, soldier?” Your body involuntarily trembles, a quiet moan escaping your lips and Bucky growls. He releases you, stomping away before turning on his heel and getting in your face once again. “You better get your head out of your ass. Do you think this is some kind of game?”
You jam your finger into his chest, nostrils flaring. “You know what Barnes. Why don’t you get off my ass!?! Maybe if you weren’t acting like such an asshole I could concentrate better!” Before he can give you a retort you stomp off, cursing under your breath.
When you get to your room you open the door with enough force to knock a picture off the wall. Without looking you grab the edge and go to slam it shut only to hear the wood crack against something metal. “What the…” you mumble as you turn around, your eyes landing on an angry looking Sergeant Barnes.
“Did you come here to yell at me some more?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Bucky slams the door shut, rattling it on its hinges and prowling toward you. “What do you think you’re doing? You can’t get distracted out there! It could cost you your life!” With a huff you march toward him until you’re standing toe to toe. “You don’t think I know that! It’s just…I can’t…it’s not my fault.”
You say the last part with much less heat, your head dropping to look at your feet. His metal finger hooks under your chin, lifting your eyes to his. “What is this about?” he asks, his voice much softer. You try to hold his gaze, your tongue darting out to lick your lips before you speak. “I uh...it’s nothing.”
He pulls you closer, grazing his fingers over your chin and tucking a stray stand of hair behind your ear. Your breath hitches at the feel of his metal hand on your skin, trying desperately to calm your heart rate as your body thrums with want. You watch as understanding flits over his features and his lips turn up into a smirk.
“Oh doll, you should have said something sooner.” As the words pass his lips his hand creeps down your neck, the quiet vibrations of his arm only making your heart beat faster. “Is this what you want?” he whispers against your mouth, his hand slowly closing around your throat.
You close your eyes, relishing in the feel of his hands on you. “Yes,” you whimper, running one hand up and over the metal plates of his arm to grab his wrist. He adds a little more pressure and you moan out his name. “Fuck, baby. Are you gonna follow your Sergeants orders this time? I need your full attention if we’re gonna do this the right way.”
Barnes and Elias (Platoon) Fighting Over You Would Include
Elias would see you and immediately want to approach you, telling you how beautiful you are
Barnes would be more reserved about it, and though he’d feel a little bitter that Elias approached you first, he’d pretend he didn’t care
You’re equally attracted to both. You think they’re both the most attractive men in the camp
The only thing that you don’t know, is the two men are practically sworn enemies, and you’re caught between a war within a war
You’d spend an evening stargazing with Elias in the jungle. He’d kiss you, and it would be amazing-- he would taste like honey and just the faintest bit of pot
After that, you would find Barnes. He’d tell you to run back to your ‘water walker’ but you’d tell him that you don’t belong to Elias
This would lead to a slow kiss behind a dug out sleeping hole. Barnes would taste like Jack Daniels and cigarettes, but it’s unique and perfect too
You get so confused and conflicted over your feelings for both men
One day, you see them having a verbal battle over you in the barracks, Cpt. Harris trying to break it up to no avail
Elias is yelling at Barnes, telling him he doesn’t know how to treat a girl right, and Barnes is yelling back that Elias is one to talk, he’s probably never had a girlfriend love him back after his last one
Elias would take that super personally, and you would follow him, assuring him you do have feelings for him.
Then Barnes would see, and assume you’ve picked a side... but you haven’t. You still can’t choose between the two men vying for your affection.
