summary â” y/n and bucky hate each other, that much is obvious. however, after a chat with steve, y/n begins to question whether or not bucky actually does hate her
âYou are absolutely infuriating!â She yelled, storming away from the man with who she had been partnered up with for a mission. It always ended this way, with the two fighting about something petty after hours, or weeks, of bickering back and forth. She mentally cursed Steve and Tony for pairing them up, again. It was like they enjoyed watching them almost kill each other.
Summary: Buckyâs been having difficulties in a certain⊠department. Heâs at a loss, completely ready to give up until he starts theorizing. If you have the ability to heal people, maybe you can help him out. Maybe youâll be able to fix him.
Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x (F) Reader
One-ShotÂ
Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!; unprotected sex (wrap it up, folks!); masturbation; elements of orgasm denial; elements of orgasm delay; handjobs; anal fingering (Bucky receiving); use of sex toys (vibrators - Bucky receiving); prostate massage; coming untouched; blowjobs; dirty talk; painful masturbatory efforts; enhanced Reader (no y/n); pet names (doll, baby); age difference kink; multiple orgasms; strong language; mutual pining; lube, lube, and more lube; CONSENT, ALL THAT LOVELY CONSENT!
Word Count: 12,400+
A/N: I have no excuse for this. Enjoy! xxMoni
~
  Itâs two in the morning and the room is literally cold but Buckyâs body is burning up, clenching and unclenching the miserable coil thatâs been resting inside his heaving stomach since midnight. Heâs sweating, sticking to the cotton sheets below him and even though it feels incredibly uncomfortable, he canât seem to stop himself from grinding down onto the bed. Itâs relaxing and blissful, the pressure of the mattress against his back and bottom, but itâs also the most he can do without absolutely falling over the edge.Â
Description: You were rescued from Hydra by the Avengers, and when Bucky is thrown into living at the compound upon his pardon, he feels rescued by you. Maybe it isn't as bad as he thinks.
warnings: mentions of death, ptsd, trauma, torture, mourning, many emotions. Each chapter will contain it's own warnings as posted.
Summary: (Part 2 of Just Friends) After weeks of dealing with his own realization of his feelings, Bucky decides itâs time to confront his roommate to get her confession.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 7.0k
Warnings: language, two dumbasses in love, threatening language, mentions of nudity, some slightly suggestive language, therapist slander (bc I really hated Buckyâs therapist in TFATWS)
AN: I just wanted to make the set up a little clearer, each time thereâs a break in this fic itâs a separate occasion or day. So thereâs some time passing in this one, nothing too big probably a few days to a week between each break. Gif is not my own credit to original creator
Also, fair warning, I have thrown this ending around several times and Iâm settling on this one even though I feel like it progressed really weird and really fast
Part 1 : Just Friends
Somehow, Bucky just knew that the blasting music on the floor was coming from his apartment. Because it was ABBAâs Man After Midnight and the only person he knew that listened to that band religiously was YN. She was also the only person who was still awake around four in the morning, finding ways to cure mindless, insomnia induced boredom.
As soon as the door slammed behind him, he dropped his bag to the ground. Stretching his arms above his head, aching muscles relieved at the release of tension. He locked the door before sparing a precursory glance around the apartment. Music blaring in the background.
As far as he could tell, everything was still intact. Which was surprising, considering YN had been home alone for a week. There was a pizza box sitting on the kitchen counter and he knew if he opened the fridge, there would be a considerable number of take out boxes waiting there.
YN, however, wasnât in sight.
Following the music, Bucky was led to the bathroom. He pushed the door open. He didnât know what he was expecting but this certainly wasnât it.
YN lay draped in their bathtub, with a Bluetooth speaker and her phone beside her. She was dressed up, a short satiny red dress and heels that were kicked off halfway to the tub. Her legs seemed to stretch for miles, propped against the porcelain. Shimmering, velveteen skin on display.
A bottle of wine dangled from one hand, a pair of sunglasses over her eyes. Bucky very reasonably assumed this was not her first bottle.
âEverything okay?â Bucky tentatively stepped into the bathroom, eyebrows furrowed as he neared. YN lifted her head enough to tilt her glasses up, eyes falling on him and staring for a moment. Gleaming irises moved, undisguised, up and down his frame. Then her glasses fell back down, her head falling back with them. She blew out a large breath, lips buzzing with dramatic flair.
âYeahâŠâ YN sighed, tipping the half empty bottle back. His hand itched- wanting to snatch it away from her. An overwhelming need to care for her boiling over in his stomach. âI was supposed to meet Damien at this restaurant but I got halfway down the hallway and turned back around.â
âYou mean Derek?â Bucky corrected, doing a terrible job of tamping the smile down on his face. It wasnât a funny situation- of course not. His best friend was lying in a bathtub, fully clothed, drunk off her ass.
But then again⊠it was his best friend that he had a massive crush on. Who for some reason ditched her date again. Maybe it was a little funny.
âSame thing.â YN waved her hand. Dismissing his correction. Bucky shook his head, knowing it was useless when she was drunk. The woman was a menace sober.
âWhat was wrong with himâ why didnât you go?â He implored curiously, stripping his belt from the loops. YN groaned loudly, head lolling to the side as she sunk down into the tub.
âBored.â
He wouldnât argue there. Derek had been one of the few guys that YN actually allowed in the apartment. Even then it was only once, only for about ten minutes. Just because he caught her off guard as she was coming home from the gym.
Bucky happened to be home at the time, stretched lazily across the couch when they arrived. YN was going to change out of her gym clothes and clean up. Leaving Derek to flounder in the stiff tension of the living room. Staring very concernedly at the half naked man spread across the living room.
The guy looked like he was straight out of a movie scene- hair quaffed perfectly, the first few buttons on his shirt glamorously undone to show smooth skin underneath. One look and Bucky knew everything he needed to know: the guy was only after a trophy girlfriend.
There was no way YN could ever be one of those. She was much too independent, professed her opinions too clearly. She sure as hell didnât depend on anyone for her emotional survival. There was one chance to impress her, anything after that was a waste of time, and she had no issue displaying that.
There was no competition there. Bucky wasnât too concernedâ the guy would be gone under a week. And clearly, that assumption was accurate.
âRight. Come on, letâs go to bed.â Bucky clapped a hand on her calf, giving her a loose tug. YN whined, sinking lower into the basin. Cradling the bottle closer to her partially exposed chest.
âI donât wanna move.â She muttered, bottom lip poking out adorably. Chin pressed to her chest only amplifying her wishes. He was a sucker for that lookâfor her. She seemed to know it too, pouting even further.
Bucky huffed, gazing down at her, praying his eyes werenât as starry as they felt.
âIâve got to get a shower.â Bucky clarified, pausing for her to get the hint. YN only grunted, and he assumed she rolled her eyes because she always did when he said something stupid.
âOh, please. Like I havenât seen a dick beforeâ your dick, Iâve seen your dick plenty of times.â
Bucky released her ankles immediately, holding his hands up in defeat and backing away. His neck burned with embarrassment. Blazing tendrils tightening their grip, searing into his skin as he avoided glancing to her face.
When they were comfortable with each other, Bucky had no problem walking around the apartment without a shirt (and the very few times he had crossed the hallway from the bathroom to his bedroom stark naked). He didnât have an issue about YN seeing his shoulder, the scars along with it. Because she had seen the worst of him- she had seen those late nights, the ones full of anger and anxiety.
She had seen the random attacks during daylight hours. The panic that seemingly arose from nothing, causing everything around him to crash down all at once.
He didnât have to worry about physical scars with her. YN had been witness to every lashing mark on his soul. Gazing through cigarette smoke and murky night skies. Through panic laced tears, only healed by time and copious amounts of bourbon. She knew him.
That had been before. Before, when her opinion didnât hold such a weighty grip on his mind. Of course he always cared about what she thought, she was the person he took advice from. The one person whom his pride allowed him to seek answers from.
Before he wasnât terrified of losing her for good. Before he realized he loved her more than he could ever express.
âWhy do I even live with you?â Bucky muttered, stripping his shirt from his back. He balled it up and tossed it at YNâs face. The fabric unfurled midair, splaying over her top half, covering her features.
A muted noise of annoyed protest arose but Bucky ignored it, stripping down while she was preoccupied. Slipping into the shower and closing the curtains.
Warm water cascaded down thick muscles, tendons aching as they were soothed. Any residual pain beginning to slide from his shoulders, tension melting and rolling down his back. He took his first full, deep breath since he started his journey home.
âHow was the mission?â YN asked, breaking through his solitary comprehension. Bucky listened to the quiet musings of ABBA, vocalizing with the patter of the shower water on the floor.
âSame old thing. Nothing tragic happened so I guess thatâs a good thing.â He responded. YN hummed a quiet answer, sobriety beginning to crash through her drunken mind. She leaned over and put the bottle down on the outside of the tub. With a sigh, she settled back into her position.
Bucky ran a hand through his dripping hair. In a way, he was grateful that he was sent on that mission alone. Usually the roommates were a package dealâwhere one went, the other followed.
Usually, that wasnât a problem. But ever since that stupid Stark party, ever since YN started being so stupidly, adorably, undeniably attractiveâ Bucky hadnât been able to focus. He couldnât think straight, not with so many variables swirling around in his brain. And he couldnât escape those thoughts about her, because she was always there.
In the kitchen, lying on the living room floor, crashing into his bedroom at five AM, demanding he go on a run with her. They went to work togetherâ they went to the same gym together, for Christâs sakes!
All of those activities were fun at some point in history. Thatâs why they arranged it that way. Now he was just constantly stressed, worrying over stupid details and trying to force his attention elsewhere. Keeping up appearances to keep YN off his trail. It was exhausting being so close to the person he loved, unable to vocalize his feelings. Cursing that he didnât have the courage it took to tell her.
So when the solo mission popped up, Bucky snatched it and took off. It wasnât too suspicious, seeing as the pair were always being sent somewhere. It had just been a while since they had been on solo missionsâ seeing how well they worked together.
Turns out, it was the most clarifying week Bucky experienced since Wakanda. It was though everything began clicking into place- his carousel of a mind slowing down enough he could make sense of things again. By the end of the week, he knew exactly what he wanted and how to approach YN. The only problem being YN herself. She was a notoriously irregular wild card.
âHey, guess who dropped by again today?â YN laughed, wiggling her feet to dangle over the edge. Bucky hummed, a smile tugging his lips. He appreciated that no matter what she was doing, or how fucked up she was, YN always found a way through his thoughts. Worming her way around his brain and getting him out of his comfort zones.
âFucking, Janet.â He guessed, scrubbing shampoo through his dark hair.
âFucking. Janet.â She confirmed, swinging bare feet as she cackled. âYou know it was.â
Bucky grinned, shaking water from damp locks. Janet was their lovely neighbor, probably around fifty years old, and she had an astoundingly obvious crush on Bucky. Every week, at least once while they were home, either Yn or Bucky himself would answer the door and Janet would be standing there. Waiting.
Batting her eyes, all dolled up, just for him.
Every week it was a new task: she canât reach the top shelf, couldnât open a jar, she was out of flourâ any excuse to get Bucky to the door. Her favorite was the lightbulb. It seemed that every two weeks, another bulb had blown and she needed Bucky to reach it, what with her weak ankles and knee replacement.
Every single time Bucky came back in, YN was there ready to make fun of him. He took it in stride, laughing it off with her. He didnât mind helping his neighbors; In fact, Janet reminded him of an elderly woman who was his neighbor in Romania when he was on the run. Bucky always helped her with her groceries, no matter how anxious he was about being caught.
âWhat is thisâ lightbulb seven, eight?â Bucky mused rhetorically. YN snorted, a slurred giggle resonating in their bathroom.
âElevenâ I keep track with the whiteboard on the fridge.â
âI thought that was the number of lighters you dropped from the fire escape.â
âThatâs on a different list.â YN informed him, carefully standing on drunken legs. She clamored over the side, clutching the tub wall. Stumbling toward the shower curtains. Bucky heard her movements, saw her shadow against the waving fabric, and responded by propping his hands on his hips. Staring, anticipating her next move. Which was ripping the curtain back, standing in front of him and offering the bottle to him. âYou want some of this wine?â
âIâm good.â Buckyâs cheeks ached from suppressing his smile, biting down on his lip. YN hummed, shrugging as she began her trek toward the sink. At least he was finished this time.
âSuit yourself, sweetheart.â
Those were the moments he loved most of all. The lighthearted conversation floating through the air. Bucky felt like she gave him permission to be carefree every now and then. He realized that he didnât carry all the weight on his shoulders around her. She didnât expect anything of him. It was relieving, to say the least.
The best part? YN didnât even know she was doing it. She didnât know she was the best part of his day. Though part of him wondered if she really did know, if she felt the same way. He couldnât help but hope she was spilling her guts while she was intoxicated, unaware of her actions.
âAnyone else drop by?â Bucky asked, turning the water off. Wrapping a towel around his waist. Water dripping from his hair, down his chest.
YN froze, bottle halfway to her lips. Eyes trailing, watching the droplets carve paths down his skin. Soaking into the towel at his waist. Her mind divided between the past and present, pulling at her lucid consciousness.
âUhmmmâŠâ
~~~~
~ 4 days earlier: Monday~
âI need to see Bucky.â
YN rolled her eyes, cocking an eyebrow at the blonde standing before her. She thought they had seen the last of the megalomaniac a month prior, when Bucky broke it off. But the blonde had been back twice, both times YN had taken a glimpse through the peep hole and ignored it. But now it was the third time and it was becoming irksome.
âGreat. Come back during business hours.â She snapped, moving to slam the door in Clarissaâs face.
The blonde shoved her handbag between the door and the frame, wedging it open. YNâs eyebrows raised, patience wearing thin as she opened the door wider. Clarissaâs smirk attempted to claim dominance of the situation, gloating almost.
YN wasnât too worried. She had dealt with anything and everything that crossed her path. Evil robots, evil space creatures, evil gods, that one time she saw Clint eat a whole pizza in under six minutes. She could handle this tantrum Clarissa practically begged to throw. Without flinching.
Plus, she had gotten herself out of several very sticky situations with people she dated throughout the years. She was no stranger to a deranged exâ men and women alike.
âListen, you little thief, all I need is to talk to Bucky.â She insisted, words dripping with diluted venom. YN chuckled, disbelief tainting the sound. Unwilling to be pushed over so easily by someone she could snap in two. Clarissa huffed impatiently. âIâve got to get my things I left here.â
âOh do you?â YN drawled, leaning against the door. âThatâs⊠thatâs weird because youâve been here once and if you had left something, it would have been immediately burned.â
Clarissa spluttered, running low on excuses to wiggle her way into the apartment. She wasnât accustomed to dealing with people like YN, ones who didnât care who she was. Didnât care about her daddyâs money. Apathetic to her way of life.
âNow,â YN began again, keeping her foot wedged against the door. A firm hold on the handle to prevent the woman from bulldozing her way in. YN just knew that if that woman laid a red- painted claw on her, she was going back to jail. âI suggest you leave before I get violent.â
âIf you hit me Iâll call the cops.â Clarissa clenched her teeth, anger boiling off her skin. YNâs bottom lip dropped into a mocking pout, eyebrows tilting with false pity.
âYouâd better call the coroner.â She suggested, a devilish smile overtaking her features, breaking through her facade.
The quip, while being endlessly hilarious to YN, seemed to agitate Clarissa further. Her face turning a darker red, eyes brimming with hellfire. Nose scrunched in anger.
âYou know, you think youâre so high and mighty. Just because you work for the government. Let me tell you somethingââ
YN sighed, a spark of amusement lighting the fuse of her irritation. Sometimes, youâve got to treat crazy with crazy. And YN had a knack for going batshit.
YN released her hold on the door, slamming her hand to the table beside the doorway. Luckily, Bucky left his pistol there on his way out. Always prepared for an intruder, that man. She flicked the safety off of the gun, leveling the barrel on Clarissaâs chest.
âAre you psycho?â The blonde wailed, backing up a few paces.
âWanna stick around to find out?â YN asked, placing her finger on the trigger. Ready to squeeze. Clarissa gasped for air dramatically, tears welling on her lash line. She quickly shouldered her bag, hustling down the hallway. YN grinned, waving with the weapon in hand. Gun metal glinting in the hallway lights. âBuh- bye, now.â
~~~~~~
~Present day~
âMmm⊠nope, not that I can think of.â
It was a lie, Bucky knew it was a lie. YN had an extensively long memoryâ scarily accurate and terrifyingly smart. It wasnât a chance that she forgot something.
Besides, he knew her too well by now to know whether or not she was lying. But still, he couldnât force her to tell the truth, even though she was a pushover drunk. He would feel too guilty of taking advantage of the situation.
âYou ever wonder what itâs like to be a bird?â YN asked, staring at him through the mirror. Bucky snorted, caught off guard by her question. Nearly losing the grip on his towel. YN was just glad the tension in her chest deflated, it was becoming much too warm in the steamy bathroom for her comfort. Her wandering eyes not making anything easier. âMaybe I could ask Sam.â
âItâs way past your bedtime.â
~~~~~~
âYNâ I canât do it! Iâm notââ
âYou can! Hold on, just hold on to me!â
âI canâtâ Iâm slipping! YN!â
Her head shot off the damp pillow, chest heaving and eyes wide. Blinded by the murky darkness of the room. She stumbled off of the bed, the metallic taste of blood coating her tongue. Bile rising in her throat, closing her airway. Lungs constricting against stubborn, atrophied muscles- burning with panic laced fear.
YNâs shoulder smacked into the wall as she fumbled through the doorway. A muffled cry falling from panting lips. Her body felt overheated, sweat dripping from her forehead. Fingertips numb, heart beating out of her chest.
Her foot caught on the coffee table, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Clouding her already darkened vision. Cursing, she shoved away from it, following the only light source she could see: moonlight bouncing off the dull railing of the fire escape.
She threw the window open, clamoring out into the cool night air. The frigid metal prickling her skin, waking her. An unsteady breath left her lungs, jaw clenched tightly as she stared up at the moon.
God, she hated that dream. It only came around a few times a year but when it did, it tormented her for days- weeks even. Leaving her sitting up for days on end, refusing to sleep. Refusing to allow her mind to return to such a hellish place.
YN turned her wrist, exposing the once smooth skin of her forearm. Marred by jagged scars, made by nails dragging down as the man lost his grip. Nearly dragging her over the edge as he fell. Falling. Falling.
She took a sudden, deep breath, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes. Pressing until she saw stars. Attempting to clear her lungs, her mind. She felt dizzy from the head rush- flooded with too many memories and feelings, emotions attached, all bombarding her simultaneously. Springing out of her hunched stance, YN scrabbled blindly along the windowsill, fishing the nearly destroyed pack of cigarettes into her grasp.
Trembling fingers held the stick between her lips as she lit up, watching the flame waver in the breeze. Or perhaps it was the shake in her hands that made the tremble.
As she inhaled, a stillness fell upon the night air. As if every being were holding itâs breath, waiting, watching, to see if she would fall apart. Silent bets placed against her, begging her to fail.
The sound of a deep, hoarse cough burst through the eerie morning. A sobbing, retching noise following it. YN winced, aware that Bucky was now also awake.
She hated to see him so⊠distraught. So haunted and plagued by memories- taking shape of nightmares and terrors waiting to take advantage of his restless form. Waiting for a vulnerability.
They werenât as common anymore, hadnât been for months. But she could recall every vivid detail of the portions she could hear. The screams, muddled words mixing with strained whimpers. Followed by his body thudding against the floorboards, racing to the bathroom, sobbing as he retched. Trying to purge the terrors from his mind.
YNâs heart had always ached when she heard him, shuffling around during the night. The distress palpable in the tense night air. But she never approached him first. As much as she hated herself, she always let him go to her. She knew from experience that people dealt with things in their own way. She kept everything close to her chest. Bucky was similar in some ways, but he could tolerate sharing that weight much better than she could.
Heavy footsteps approached her perching place, an exhausted grunt as Bucky folded himself in half, shoving his body out into the brisk air. He sat back, head against the brick. Staring out before him. Nose burning with emotions he didnât have the energy to express anymore. Throat aching from stomach acid, tattooing the memories into his body.
Without a word, YN flicked the ash from the cigarette, holding it out to him. He accepted gratefully, taking a long draw. The smoke did little to nothing for his nerves, they were already shot to hell.
But it was something. Anything to take the stinging shard of glass from his chest. Something to distract him from the pain.
âBad one again, huh?â YN croaked, her voice harsher than usual. Bucky glanced overâ moonlight soaking her skin. Gleaming off tear dampened cheeks. His throat ached, he knew his voice would be shaky. So he just nodded. Passing the cigarette back.
Her head bobbed in acknowledgement, flicking the burned over remains. Watching the ashes become smaller as they fell. Crushing the filter into the steel railing beside her. A chill creeping through her fingertips.
âCome here.â Bucky commanded, quiet and unsteady. YN turned, eyes full of questions. She was always so curious. But he wanted just one time- just to hold her with no questions. No pressure. He just wanted comfort. He wanted familiar. Craved the feel of her weight pressed against his chest, leveling the waves of anxiety tightening their noose around his lungs. Even if it destroyed the carefully placed barrier heâd built, even if she could see right through his facade.
YN obeyed, sliding closer. Unsure of what he wanted. Bucky guided her body between his thighs, arms wrapping tightly around her midsection. His fingers found purchase in her hair, tangling his hand in it. She pressed her head to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Steady and rhythmic. Constant.
Comfort she never knew she craved. YN had been so accustomed to fleeting affections, never really even giving them the time of day. Ensnaring her prey, toying with them for a while, eventually losing interest and moving on. It was how she had always operatedâ relationships were just something she used to pass time. Amusement.
She wasnât sure what it was with Bucky. Why he stuck around. Why he put up with her. Why he deemed her his best friend. Scalding tears started beading on her cheekbones before she could realize what was happeningâ the salty drops soaking into Buckyâs shirt. He felt the droplets against his skin but he didnât say a word.
Bucky just tilted his face to the stars. Eyes closed tightly, brows furrowing. A crease forming on his forehead. YNâs warmth pressing to his body. A serenity he never thought he could afford. But somehow, always knew YN would bring it.
~~~~~~
Bucky slammed the bedroom door, muttering under his breath. YN glanced up from where she lay, stretched across her bed. She dropped her novel a bit, where she could peek over the top. He was pacing. The way his brows were furrowed and mouth pulled, twisted into a sneer told her he was in a particularly foul mood. It wasnât unusual for a Wednesday afternoon though.
Wednesdayâs were his court mandated therapy days and Bucky hated them with a fury he had never felt before. Every week, he would go into the office building and lie his ass off just to be cleared for parol. Then, he would go home and spill everything from the session to YN, which was technically against the rules but who else was he supposed to tellâ his therapist?
Fuck. No.
She would just write it down in her stupid journal and his mandate would be extended even further. She was none the wiser of his bullshit he told her on the couch anywaysâ believed every word he said. He would take his chances with YN.
âI swear, if she tells me one more timeââ He cut himself off, halting his pacing as he turned to face her. YN closed her book, letting it fall to her chest as irritated, steel blue eyes narrowed. Scrutinizing every aspect of the conversation. âYou know how many times she tells me to put myself out there more? Make an effort to make more friends?â
âYou have friends. Iâm your friend.â YN squinted, unsure why it was an issue to have a small circle. Bucky scoffed, sitting down at the end of her bed.
âShe says youâre a bad influence.â
âThatâs⊠well, thatâs valid.â She admitted, pursing her lips. Bucky frowned, tilting his head. Her influence was the only thing that got him anywhere in the new century. Besides, he wasnât sure if it was all her fault- they seemed to feed off each other in times of chaos. Which, living together, seemed to be all the time.
âIs not.â He countered, nudging her thigh with his foot. YNâs lips pulled into a grin involuntarily, keeping her gaze strictly on the ceiling. âI like our⊠I like us⊠You know, sometimes I think you could do a better job than that quack. Hell, at least I tell you the truth.â
YN hummed, satisfaction running through her systems. She wasnât sure why she felt so happy that he only talked to her. Really talkedâ about things he told no one else. It gave her a sense of purpose, almost.
To be his outletâ his most trusted. His best friend. It was a title she could bear with honor. One she carried with pride, no matter how apathetic she appeared.
âI will gladly take that three fifty an hour sheâs getting paid because I live with you twenty four seven and thatâs a shit ton of extra cashââ
âNot the point.â Bucky interrupted, rolling his eyes and flopping down on the bed. Pushing himself up to lie down beside her. Hair brushing her arm, he could feel the warmth bleeding from her body. Tantalizing skin so close to him, begging him to touch. To confirm his intrusive thoughts, asking how soft it was.
âI know.â She smiled softly, eyes tenderly tracing his features. The dark circles under hauntingly timeless eyes. The stubble he was allowing to grow in, bristly and coarse.
YN enjoyed when he grew his beard out, it made him look so much older. So much more refined. Healthier.
Bucky bit down on his tongue, contemplating bringing up the topic he had been avoiding for weeks. The one on constant rotation around his brain since it was discovered.
âHey, you remember a few weeks ago, morning after Clarissa and I broke up⊠you asked what I was gonna do next?â Bucky cringed, his eye twitching as the words left his mouth. He had just been thinking about saying them- he never meant for them to come out. No turning back nowâŠ
âAnd you answered âyouâll fucking find out when I do?â Uh huh. It was a little aggressive.â YN confirmed, flicking through the pages in her book. Fuck, why was this book so long, she should never have trusted that guy at the book storeâ
âItâs you.â Buckyâs throat barely allowed the words to escape. The anxious fear that sat in his chest boiled into his esophagus, creating a nauseous fume. Lightheadedness cracked through his skull, muscles tense. Awaiting her response.
âUh huh.â She mumbled, lips pulling into a frown. Maybe she shouldâve gotten thatâ wait. The infrastructure of her brain screeched to a grinding halt. Every neuron turning to glance at each other in confusion as the words finally began to process. âWhat?
Buckyâs heart seized- a scalding flush settling over his skin. Perspiration beading on his brow. Had it always been so hot in her room? Was this what a heart attack felt like? He couldnât really feel his left arm that much- well, maybe that wasnât the best indicator.
âItâs always been you.â He repeated. His voice was small, timid and barely recognizable. A blinding contrast to how he usually acted around her. Charismatic yet familiar.
For the first time, it felt as though a veil lifted. She saw him- through her clouded emotions. Wide, hopeful blue eyes, blinding. The power of it radiating off his body seemed to pierce her heart, the organ jumping into her throat to avoid peril. Evaporating every word she had ever spoken. Every thought sheâd ever had.
And she knew. Without him saying a word. She knew everything.
âIâm not high enough for this.â YN swallowed hard, the ache settling at her base of her throat. With a shake of her head, her body rolled abruptly off the bed. Away from the heat of his body, pressed too closely to her own.
She clamored over toward the bookshelf, hands frantically searching for the small box she kept hidden away, fingers trembling so violently she could barely grasp anything. Much less light it.
Her heart pounded with trepidation- a cocktail of mixed emotions intoxicating her senses, drowning anything that resembled rationalism. YN wasnât blind, or oblivious to either of their developing feelings in the past few weeks. But there had always been that attraction, lying dormant under a teasing atmosphere. She never thought either of them would act on it.
âWhat?â Buckyâs forehead creased with confusion, watching her as her search proved futile.
YN spun around, wide eyes searching his face for anything. Anything to suggest it was untrue. A fresh wave of panic rushing her veins as she realized he was serious. The sincerity in the innocent hues, so vulnerable. Susceptible for so much pain.
And she would crush him. YN was not one for consistency in her everyday life, too many things could change in a moment. She just tended to go with the flow of things. Where she was one hundred percent consistent was her ability to destroy relationshipsâ watch them wither as she stood back. Detached from the heartbreaking chaos. Unfazed.
But with Bucky⊠it wouldnât be the same. She didnât want it to be the same. She didnât want to lose him. It was easier to keep him close as a friend than to lose him altogether. Boiling in simmering attraction was better than scalding from the inside out. Unwavering, unbearable tension better than losing her best friend.
She couldnât do it to him. She couldnât be the one to wreck so much havoc on his sweet soul.
âYou put that sentence back in your mouth, right now Barnes.â YN warned, fortifying the defense around her heart. Bracing herself for the heartbreak that was soon to be in his eyes. Praying he would have the sense to do the same. âThatâs⊠you canât⊠Bucky, I cannot even begin to explain why this is a bad idea.â
âBecause you donât have any excuses and you canât make anything up on the fly right now?â He scoffed, a flame of disappointed pain licking up the walls of his heart. Overheating the muscle and threatening to make it burst out of his chest.
He knew that he sent her spinning, reeling off guard, casually shoving the question in to their conversation like it wasnât the heaviest topic they ever breeched. She had already been frazzled and halfway teetering the edgeâ his words only gave her another nudge. But Bucky was certain of one thing: YN never wouldâve brought it up. She was too skittish of relationship talk. She liked the comfortableâ she was a âif it ainât broke, why fix itâ type of person. Most days Bucky approved, agreed wholeheartedly.
But he wanted to be selfish, just for once. Just for her. He wanted more than just late night smokes and dancing around feelings that were so clearly there, so glaringly obvious they rivaled the sun in intensity. He wanted to burn. He wanted her to be selfish, to ruin him, to choose him.
A creeping nausea numbed YNâs throat, her brain scrambling for somethingâ anything plausible enough that he couldnât tear down with an argument. Because she had lived with him long enough to know that the man could argue his way out of a paper bag. Even when she had solid defense he would always win.
âItâs just⊠transference or somethingâ you donât love me.â She insisted, attempting to wave him away. Leaned nonchalantly against the bookcase, her wide eyes attempted a look of dismissal. But he could see her teeth fretting with her cheek, biting down anxiously.
âI should throw you off the fire escape for treason.â His attempt at humor- something that usually lightened the mood when their words delved too deep- fell flat. Only this time, YN didnât take the immediate out, she didnât accept the offering.
âBuckyââ
âYN.â Bucky sighed, shoving himself from the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw YN press herself further into the shelf, panic clear on her face. He didnât comment, pretended he didnât notice, resumed his pacing from before. âIf thereâs one thing that has ever been so abundantly clear in my entire life⊠itâs this. Itâs you.â
YN exhaled sharply, peeling herself from the bookshelf, content with the space between them. Even though it crackled with tension, sparks of attraction, she wanted the space. It was keeping distance between her roiling emotions and unsteady rationality.
âI donât want⊠youâve seen our track records. Weâre just gonna end up hurt.â She warned, heart stuttering as she allowed herself to immerse in the possibility. A wiggling thought of âit could be better than youâd ever imaginedâ breaking through the hesitation that relationships always implicated.
It was all too quickly drowned out, fear looming over the small voice. Pulverizing it into dust.
Bucky hated that he had to convince her he actually cared. That he wasnât trying to hurt her by admitting his feelings. But she knew that already. Somehow, Bucky was aware of her feelings as well. She wouldnât put up so much push back if she didnât care. Her eyes wouldnât show that hesitance.
âBut you do like me.â He clarified, stepping closer. YN fell back a step, swallowing hard. Cursing that she hadnât sprinted from the room as soon as he uttered the first words. The fallout from that wouldâve been a hell of a lot easier to clean up than the mess they were about to make. âDo you love me?â
âThatâs not a fair question. You know I doââ
âYou know what I mean.â Bucky interrupted gently. âI know youâre scared. Relationships have meant nothing but pain for so long. Then theyâre just toys. But⊠if you love me, and I love you⊠we should mean more than some stupid track record. Be more.â
The silence after his words was stifling. Downright oppressing. Both of their chests feeling the pressure.
She knew it was wrong to make him wait in the silence, only prolonging his anxiety. But YN was stunnedâ for once, she was stunned into silence. By Bucky Barnes of all people, her best friend who had seen more of her than anyone else. Confided in her more than anyone she knew.
She ran back over their relationship in her mind. All those times she checked him out secretly, small glances at his physic. Every time he did something for her, where she tried not to read too much into the actions.
She had always loved him. Even through times when it may not have been clear. He had always been her best friend. Would always be her best friend. No matter how uncertain she was, Bucky would always be there to soothe the ache.
And that meant she would have to tease him like a best friend no matter how heavy the circumstances. Especially if that best friend just admitted something like feelings.
YN kissed her teeth, leaning back against the bookshelf again. Tilting her chin as she grinned across the room. Her thoughts clearing away like storm clouds breaking up when the sun reappeared.
âHow long did you have that speech on hand for?â
Buckyâs lungs stuttered. Synapses misfiring at her question. YN bit her lip, pressing a laugh back. The man sighed, wiping a hand down his face exasperatedly. Chuckling in disbelief as the metal appendage rested against the back of his neck.
She played him. Of course she did.
âChrist, YN. Here I am pouring my heart out for you and you make a joke. Real mature.â Bucky snipped, feeling a smile threaten to crack his own expression. âWere you just making a scene earlier?â
YN exhaled, the tension snapping like a branch in gale winds. A vial of relief flushing through her veins, dousing her chest in cool water. Steam rising to heat her cheeks with embarrassment. Watching Buckyâs face turn red as he realized he had been rambling too deeply.
âIâm sorry.â YN pressed her lips together, fending off an urgent smile.
It was her way of cracking the tension, relieving the pressurized air from the room. Deflecting some of the awkward stiffness permeating their surroundings. No doubt, she felt the same way he did but she wasnât as good with words as he was. She couldnât just⊠say it. They got all tangled in her throat, refusing to move one way or another. She couldnât deal with emotions.
âYouâre not.â Bucky declared, snapping her back into their conversation. He watched the devilish smirk reappear on her lips, brow quirking in amusement. Although he was glad she wasnât truly upset about the fact, Bucky had a feeling there was a little more truth in her words than she let on. Because he knew her and humor was always her go to anxiety relief. âI hate you. I hate you so much. You are an asshole. Seriouslyâ youâre a dick. I donât know why I live here under these conditions.â
âYou shouldâve seen your face.â YN snickered, a hand pressed to her chest. Bucky rolled his eyes, which only caused her to double over, laughter finally spilling from her body.
He watched in amusement, listening to the sound he adored. Smiling at her dramatic antics. For some reason, her indifference about expressing emotions wasnât annoying. He understood it. For some reason, it didnât make him anxious at all.
Finally, the smile began melting from her features. The smile dulling only an increment as she began tempting her tongue with words she shouldâve left unspoken.
âIâve never, Iâm not kind to people I dateâ or care about in general, I just⊠donât want you to get caught up in crossfire. If this crashes, if we burn⊠I wonât have anyone left.â
Buckyâs heart melted, puddling in his boots at her puppy dog eyes. She had never had anything besides physical, superficial relationships. But he was an exception. He saw everything she gave him, protected everything she said. Watched her six.
She let him in, trusted him with blood stained hands. Gave him a chance. But he did the same. She cleaned up that blood, patched him up in kidâs bandaids. Gave him reasons to see through the shadows of his room.
âYouâve always cared about me. This is just⊠caring about me and kissing.â
And just like that, YNâs chest snapped shut. Her heart no longer on display for him to see. She gagged playfully, a shiver running down her spine at the thought of kissing her best friend. Her conscious cleaving in two, opposite pulls yanking her in separate directions.
âDonât say it like that, dude.â YN moaned, too many feelings rushing over her body at the mention of kissing Bucky Barnes. The heat in her cheeks burst intensely again; She cleared her throat to avoid detection. But of course, Bucky was never one to let a detail slip by without noticing.
Deciding he wanted payback for her leading him on earlier, Bucky pressed closer to her. Crowding her space. Listening as her heartbeat skyrocketedâ a pride welled up inside him, the likes he had never before seen.
âWould you like to hear about some of our other options?â He offered, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. A chuckle rumbled through his chest when YN groaned, rolling her eyes.
âIâm agreeing to date you, alrightâshut up now before this gets any weirder.â YN shoved his chest, eyes burning a hole into the rug at their feet. Her skin burned with the admissionâit felt different saying the words out loud. It was a good embarrassment, though; A relieving pressure lifting from her body. The tiniest of smiles tugging at her lips, threatening to shatter the nonchalant facade she had constructed.
Bucky feigned injury, stumbling back a few steps and clutching his chest. A dopey grin overtaking his features, refusing to shake away. His eyes softened, soaking up the glory of her presence. Roaming freely over her figure for the first timeâ unabashedly. Reveling in the view.
âEven if we do crash, Iâll be on you like glue. Iâm not going anywhere.â Bucky murmured, shoving his hands into his pockets bashfully. YNâs eyes trailed up his abdomen, brushing over his dark, gleaming hair. Falling over his eyes, already staring into her own.
Full of pure adoration. Shimmering, showing everything he couldnât hide.
âEven when it gets awkward? Because it will get super awkward at times.â YN tested. Bucky nodded decidedly, having already given his all to her. Not one to back out at the finish line. YN held her hand out, pinky finger extended to him as an irrevocable contract. âPinky swear?â
âPinky swear.â Bucky wrapped his finger around hers, bringing their conjoined hands to his lips. Pausing right before he pressed them to her skin, a better thought flitting across his mind. âWould you like to seal the deal with a kiss?â
YNâs face flamed, heat flaring under her skin. She ripped her hand away as Bucky snickered, content with the composure she had finally broken.
Summary: Bucky has dated woman after woman- none of them seemed to really fit. The only person who really stuck around for him was his roommate and best friend- until she becomes more to him.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 4113
Warnings: language
AN: GIF is not my own, credit to original creator.
âOh, dude⊠you are so fuckedâŠâ YN snickered, peeking over her arm into the landing cameras of the Quinjet. Bucky groaned, following her gaze.
Clarissa, his most recent fling, stood waiting for the jet to land. Her weight was on one foot, hip popped out in annoyance. An unwavering pout sat firm on her lips.
âShitâŠâ He mentally began preparing himself for the lashing he would receive from the woman. She was going to tear him a new one.
Bucky had been supposed to go to some stupid party with her, a friendâs baby shower if he remembered correctly. But then, YN had approached him twenty seven hours before the party. She needed backup for a three day mission. And Bucky was off like a rocket.
It wasnât that he didnât care for Clarissa, he did, but he really did not want to go to a baby shower. He didnât want to be in a room full of strangers who all knew each other. He would be the outsider and everyone would ask every question ever. He didnât have that kind of social patience.
Plus, YN was his best friend. He couldnât leave her without backup on a mission. If he left her to fend for herself and she came back injured, or worse, Bucky would never forgive himself.
âCover for me?â He asked, flipping switches as they landed the jet. YN laughed, it was one of his favorite sounds. Even though she sounded like a dying cat, it always brought a smile to his face. No matter the circumstances. Even now, Bucky smiled so broadly his cheeks ached.
âNo way in hell.â YN nudged his ribs, removing the headset from her ears. She patted his shoulder as she passed by on her way out of the flight deck. âIâve covered enough of your ass with the other girls. And Iâm not doing it again.â
Bucky scoffed, following suit. He snatched his duffel bag from a jump seat, standing beside YN as the landing ramp lowered. He couldnât deny the facts- he had asked YN several times to cover him when one of his girls would show up, asking for him. Successfully allowing him to duck their questioning for the time being.
His flings wouldnât stick around long, temporary attempts at finding his footing in a new century. With the help of YN, Bucky had been through half the women of New York, none of them lasted longer than two weeks.
Bucky had found himself âghostingâ women left and right. Self sabotaging every single relationship that came across his path. Cutting them off before they could go too deep, before they could hurt him. Before they knew too much.
âAt least soften the blow a little- help me limp out so I can tell her I got shot or something.â Bucky suggested, turning to face her. YNâs nose scrunched, eyes cutting over to his face.
âI didnât know you were such a terrible boyfriend, Barnes.â She commented, beginning to walk down the ramp. For some reason, the comment stung. A shard of ice pricking his heart. He knew she didnât mean it, but it still left an ache he couldnât explain.
âYouâre one to talk- Iâve seen you literally ditch a date by crawling out of a bathroom air vent.â Bucky retorted, shouldering his bag. He followed her down the metal at close range, where he could still speak in lowered tones. âYouâre not even gonna help out a little?â
âNo- Iâve got shit to do.â YN spun around, shooting him finger guns as she walked backwards. âSee you around, if youâre alive later.â Buckyâs middle finger flicked up before he could stop it. She only grinned, spinning on her heel. âHey, there, Clarissa.â
âYeah, hi.â The tall blonde woman marched her way over to Bucky, pouting as she passed YN. He sighed. It was gonna be a long day.
~~~~~~
Bucky slammed the apartment door, shuffling toward the living room. Kicking off untied boots as he went. YN stared at him as he flipped over the back of the couch, groaning loudly into a pillow. She scooted over a little, huddling into the opposite side as she munched on a spoonful of cereal.
âWhat the hell is your problem?â She swallowed her mouthful, dipping her spoon back into the bowl. Buckyâs torso slid down the seat, flopping onto the cushions. His socked feet swinging over her head and directly into her lap. âDude- Iâm fucking eating here!â
âI think I dug myself a deeper hole with Clarissa.â He mumbled, tired blue eyes scanning her features. YN shrugged, shoveling more food into her mouth.
âSo? Howâs this my problem?â Bucky cringed slightly as she spoke around the soggy cereal. His nose crinkled, watching her eat. YN was not perfect, by any definition of the word.
He took it as a compliment, that she was comfortable enough around him she forgot her manners sometimes. She wasnât the neatest person he had ever shared housing with, either. Her mess was mostly contained to her bedroom, presenting itself as scattered clothes and belongings. The occasional tactical weapon, ammunition scattered from mission bags. Every now and then, after particularly extended missions, it would creep into the living room or kitchen. The kitchen was safe, for the most part, until she decided to try her hand at cooking again.
Though, he was really no better, Bucky would walk through their shared apartment naked on occasion, even when she was home. If he was panicked or exhausted, clothes ended up on the bathroom floor. He rarely left plates on the kitchen counter.
The mess didnât really bother him, not as he thought it would. He was a perpetual neat freak, motions ingrained through the military. Every morning was the same routine. Make his bed, take a shower, start on breakfast, wait for YN to roll off of the couch and join him for the day.
If she was out, Bucky would take the liberty to clean up behind her. After missions without him, YN would return home to a spotless apartment. Every time she told him it wasnât necessary, Bucky would ignore her. YN figured it was a way of healing. Something to keep him busy. Keep his mind from straying too far.
At first, he had been slightly apprehensive of living with a woman that he wasnât at least dating. It went against every word his mother spoke. But in the end, Bucky gave in. Staying with his best friend. He wasnât complaining though- they shared responsibilities, she was home just about as much as him, which wasnât often. And she didnât comment on his nightmares. Didnât go through his notebooks or his room. And she was endlessly entertaining.
She had also helped him out of several situations where women were in involved. YN was helpful to have around. It didnât hurt that she was a knock out, literally and figuratively.
âI invited her to Starkâs party.â Bucky admitted, wiping a hand down his face. YN choked, coughing to dislodge the cereal from her throat. He smirked, despite the predicament he presented her with.
âWhy would you do that?â She demanded, her voice slightly raspy and hoarse. YN put her bowl down, muting the television. All attention on Bucky. He sighed again, stretching out further across her lap.
âI mean- sheâs technically my girlfriend, I should invite her to things.â Bucky reasoned, brows marching together in thought. YN hummed, leaning back against the cushion.
âYou donât sound sure about that.â She noted. Buckyâs eyes flicked over to meet hers, sinking deeper into the chair in shame. âIâve told you before, Iâll tell you again: If you donât think itâs working out, you donât have to stay. Talk to Clarissa and then decide whatâs best.â
âYeah,â Bucky scoffed. âCause thatâll get so far. Youâve tried talking to the girl- when has the conversation ever not been about herself?â
âWhich is the reason I donât think her at a Stark party will blow over well.â YN explained, shoving his feet off her lap. Snatching her cereal bowl. âYour funeral.â
He slumped down further into the crease of the sofa. Staring at the side of her face. Maybe, admittedly, YN wasnât exactly the best person to ask for dating advice. She breezed through relationships like she had a job doing it. And she almost never brought them to the apartment, never initiated a conversation about them. Almost as if they never existed.
But he would be damned if he asked Sam Wilson for help. Or Steve- hell, Bucky practically taught Steve how to talk to women when they were younger. There was no way he was going to those two idiots. He had made a few acquaintances around the VA or the Tower. They werenât friends, though, not in the sense that she was. YN knew everything about him, he knew everything about her. They were comfortable. She was comfortable.
Like most aspects of his life, Bucky was stuck with YN for information. Hoping she didnât lead him astray.
~~~~~~
âYN- weâre gonna be late!â Bucky shouted, fingers fiddling with the clasp of his cufflink. He would have the most difficult shit to put on when they were running behind. His luck.
âHold your fucking horses, Barnes, Christ!â She returned the same volume from across the apartment. He rolled his eyes, turning to Clarissa.
The blonde had chosen a dark red dress for the evening, floor length and neckline plunging. Dazzling with jewels along her midriff and chest, a matching piece in her styled hair. Stilettos made her almost Buckyâs height, falling a couple inches too short.
âIs she always that⊠coarse?â Clarissa asked, nose wrinkling in distaste. She had worn the same expression since she walked in ten minutes earlier. Sure, their place was kind of a wreck but it wasnât the worst he had ever seen. Especially not for their apartment.
Surprisingly, it was a good day for their place. The woman scoffed, heels clicking over the floors as she approached the windowsill. âAre these cigarettes? You donât smoke.â
âThose are YNâs.â He lied, snatching them from her red painted claws. Technically it wasnât a lie- they were YNâs pack. This time, at least.
It had become something of a routine. When one of them would wake up from a nightmare and couldnât sleep, they would go sit on the fire escape and smoke a couple. Just to take the edge off. A few times, the pair had sat together on the windowsill, passing cigarettes before lighting separate sticks. Each of them replaced the pack when it was empty.
âThat is disgusting.â Clarissa shook her head, holding her hands up. Like something would give her a disease. Buckyâs jaw ticked as he observed her repulsed actions. âI canât believe you live like this⊠next week, weâre packing up your stuff and youâre moving in with me.â
Bucky felt indignant anger burst out of his chest, nostrils flaring at her words. It wasnât her choice- she knew how much YN meant to him, why was she acting so⊠condescending?
Just as he went to bite out a response, a different tone of clicking heels came from down the hallway. The swooshing of material on an evening gown. Hurried footsteps echoing against the walls.
YN emerged, knocking the breath from Buckyâs lungs. Dressed in a navy blue gown, flowing sleeves that draped elegantly across her curves. Hair braided and twisted into graceful slopes, small flowers pinned carefully between locks. Her makeup was flawless, as usual.
âIâm done- you can stop your bitching, Barnes.â She griped, snatching a small handbag from the coffee table, shoving her phone down into it. Her eyes met his, lip curling as her brows furrowed. âWhat?â
He realized he hadnât been breathing since she entered, exhaling quietly. Eyes trailing back up her body not so discreetly. Buckyâs fingers twisted into his jacket, a smile slowly tugging his lips. He shook his head, unable to move his eyes.
âI justâŠâ He exhaled sharply, kissing his teeth and tilting his head. âI think I prefer you in sweatpants is all.â
âMmhm- I think I prefer you in nothing at all.â YN rolled her eyes, allowing their banter to slide off her shoulders. He grinned broadly, eyes glued to hers. They glittered with a teasing glint, devilish.
Bucky blinked, realizing he had done the whole show in front of his, soon to be ex, girlfriend. His face flushed with heat, eyes averting to the ground. He cleared his throat, fingers finding the door handle. Holding the door open for the women.
âWeâre taking my car, right?â YN asked, digging through her bag for keys. Clarissa scoffed, strutting down the main hallway as Bucky locked the door. Triple checking the system before following.
âAs if- weâll call an Uber or something.â She explained, instantly tapping away on her phone. YN blinked, slowly pulling her keys from her bag. Clarissa barely glanced up at the jingling noise, a mocking smirk on her lips. âBut you go ahead, if you want.â
âWhatâs wrong with her car?â Bucky asked, eyebrows furrowed. Clarissa sent him a foul glare, nonverbally scolding him as her typing ceased. YNâs car was a little dated- an older model SUV but he had seen the vehicle do ninety eight on a highway, while YN ate fries and changed music stations. He was pretty sure it would survive a commute across town.
âYou donât show up at events like a Tony Stark party, driving yourself. Or in a crappy little car. God, I thought you two had done this stuff before.â She replied, annoyed at their lack of knowledge.
YN exhaled behind him, causing Bucky to glance back to her. Her eyes were wide as she rolled them, pursing her lips. Clearly pissed with the blonde. As if he werenât already confused by his reaction to her earlier, the current situation only made his chest ache more. He wasnât sure what to do anymore.
âRight⊠well, you two have fun in a car service, I will be jamming all the way to Stark Tower.â YN grinned, shaking her keys in Clarissaâs face. Shoving past her to the elevator. âSee you later, losers.â
Buckyâs chest felt hollow as he watched the doors close, whisking his matching half away from him. He was always less nervous around her, YN calmed his nerves. But tonight, he wasnât sure if she was helping or not. There were too many emotions, threatening domination over his brain. His body. He was frozen. Panic beginning to set up in his chest at the overstimulation.
Clarissa huffed angrily, curling her arms under Buckyâs. Yanking his close. He could smell the perfume she had applied for the evening- overbearing and headstrong. Clouding his functions.
âFinally- some alone time. Thought weâd be stuck with her all evening.â She complained, cuddling close to Bucky. âLetâs hope she breaks down and doesnât even make it there.â
âHey,â Bucky interrupted, finally finding his tongue. It felt numb, his brain was unhelpful. Flashing images of YN before his eyes on repeat. âDonât talk about her like that, please. Itâs not⊠sheâs my best friend.â
Clarissa narrowed her eyes at him but didnât respond. Instead, exhaling a small âhmpfâ, letting him off the hook for now. Bucky swallowed, the hard ball of emotion still sitting in his throat. Refusing to move. Choking him slowly. And it was only the beginning of the evening.
~~~~~~
Bucky slinked out of the main room, cursing under his breath. Clarissaâs eyes swept across the expanse of the crowded room, narrowed in search of him. He needed to get a grip on himself- break up with her so he could leave. But he knew she would cause a scene in the middle of everyone.
And if there was anything he tended to avoid, it would be sobbing, hysterical women amongst a crowd of high fluent people.
So he would avoid his girlfriend as much as he could for the time being.
He would also avoid YN, until further notice. It was an odd experience, maneuvering a party without her beside him. It was boring for one, stressful as well. Everywhere he turned, he would run into one of them or Steve or Sam. He thought Stark Tower had more than enough square footage to keep himself separated.
Bucky exhaled sharply, becoming increasingly relieved the further away from the crowds he got. He could finally think again- hear himself at least. His thoughts were moving too fast to even catch drift of what they were about.
He found a quiet corner, at the end of the hallway. Leaning against the wall, head tilted back. He just needed to focus- that was all. He had been thrown off his rhythm earlier and hadnât had time to gather himself.
But as much as he tried, and concentrated, all he could see was YN. Her bright, infectious smile as he exploded a microwave, raucous laughter as he slipped on freshly mopped floors. Her somber eyes as they shared a cigarette on their fire escape. Why was he thinking like this- he had never thought of her this much. Never like this. He never knew he took in so many details of her.
âWhats going on with you- youâve been jumpy all night.â An even voice jolted Bucky from his thoughts, eyes flying open. Steve stood before him, staring down curiously into a tumbler of whiskey. âNow here you are, hidden in a hallway. You alright?â
Bucky pushed his hands through his hair, raking it back. Strands falling back into his eyes. So much for his hopes of internalizing problems.
âI donât knowâŠâ Bucky admitted, watching Steve lean on the wall opposite of him. The blonde remained quiet, waiting for him to continue. He didnât really know where to start. âIâm breaking up with Clarissa.â
âReally.â Steveâs eyebrows raised, faux astonishment lacing his words. âHere I thought you were getting married. You two seem to love each other so much.â Bucky rolled his eyes, scoffing at the manâs sarcasm. âEveryone could see it Bucky. You two didnât exactly keep arguments quiet. Doesnât help that youâre out here while sheâs in there at a party. Alone.â
âI⊠I just thought that if I was in a relationship it would⊠make me feel normal? Like I used to. Or maybe it would distract me.â Bucky reasoned, exasperated at himself. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunching. âAs many women Iâve dated by now- none of them stick around for long.â
âExcept YN.â Steve interrupted, knocking back a third of his glass in one go. Buckyâs eyebrows marched together, furrowing in confusion. âSheâs stuck around longer than anyone else.â
âIâm not⊠we arenât dating.â Bucky stammered, warmth creeping up his neck. Body heating up uncomfortably in the stuffy suit he wore. Steveâs brow lifted, the corners of his lips tugging into a frown. âYN- sheâs⊠my best friend. That hasnât changed.â
âItâs clear your feelings for her have.â Buckyâs face felt even warmer, the words fueling the fire under his shirt collar. âIâm not one to tell you how to live but I wouldnât waste any more time on worrying. She could be long gone by the time you get your head out of your ass.â Steve shoved his glass into Buckyâs hands, slapping his shoulder as he passed. âKnock that back. Wouldnât hurt to have a little liquid courage.â
âI wonât even feel it, punk.â Bucky felt his lips pull into a grin, the first of the night. Steve shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. Glancing over his shoulder at his old friend.
âEh, placebo effect.â He grinned, the smile Bucky remembered from long ago. That shit eating grin that would get them both into trouble. âGo get em, tiger.â
Bucky took a deep breath, watching Steveâs retreating back. He didnât even question his friendâs new knowledge of relationships. It was probably better not to ask, anyways. He did as directed, throwing the liquor back, the burn at the back of his throat a mere tickle.
A plan. He needed a plan.
Bucky slipped the tumbler glass onto a nearby table as he ducked back into the crowded party scene. First step was to find Clarissa. If he was lucky, she would be in a private area. They could do this quietly.
His eyes scanned the tops of partygoers heads, looking for tall blonde women. Finally laying eyes on her standing near the bar. Making a beeline toward her.
âClarissa-â Bucky slipped into the empty place beside her, hand holding her elbow and tugging her away. âI think we need to talk.â
âAbout what, Bucky?â She sighed, rolling her eyes. âYou bringing me here after several occasions you ditched me for, then when we get here, you avoid me. I donât know what I did to deserve this from you but I donât think itâs fair.â
Bucky swallowed, guilt pooling in his chest. Her eyes would be full of irritated fury if he looked up, he could picture them. Feel them burning into his skin. Branding him in scarlet ink. But he did it anyways- locking eyes with her. Not backing down.
âThis doesnât work. Iâm sorry.â He stepped back, pleading silently that she would accept it. Agree with it and move on.
âAre you fucking serious right now?â Clarissa hissed, nails sinking into his flesh wrist. Bucky clenched his jaw. His teeth grinding at the unannounced touch. âYou just string me along for weeks then make an idiot out of me at a party?â
âWell that last part is up to you.â He responded coolly, voice at a low, steady murmur. Her olive green eyes melted holes into his skull. The anger rolling off her body in waves. âWe Can act civically or you can have a tantrum on the floor. Itâs only going to embarrass you.â
âYouâre a piece of shit, you know that?â She spat, face going red. Bucky exhaled, a content smile on his face. It seemed to only make her more upset. Steam practically blowing from her ears.
âHave a nice night, Clarissa.â Bucky slipped his wrist from her weak hold, turning away. Not daring to look back. His eyes set on a new target. One who stood amongst a group of what looked to be cadet agents, who all looked mildly impressed and disgustingly horrified at the same time.
âThereâs always several easy ways to deal with this when youâre on the field, though- and it will happen at least once so prepare for it now because you will be caught off guard when thereâs a giant - oh hey.â Bucky interrupted her supposedly crude story with a small gesture, turning to speak quietly with her. Sighs of relief fell from the lips of the cadets, managing to slip away with the distraction of the super soldier as cover.
âYou wanna get out of here?â
YN hummed, eyebrows scrunching as she gave it short contemplation. After a few moments, she nodded with a tilt of her head.
âI could eat.â
~~~~~~
âSorry I pulled you away from our fancy party.â Bucky stated, breaking their quiet solitude. YN shrugged, licking stray sauce from her thumb. He frowned, pulling one of their napkins from his pocket, taking her wrist and wiping her hand off.
âWeâre sitting outside a twenty four hour grocery store at midnight eating hot wings. How much fancier can you get?â She grinned, swiping the napkin from between his fingers.
Buckyâs smile was soft, as he watched her devour another wing. He took a bite of his own, observing cars drive past them. No doubt questioning why two people dressed in extremely fancy clothing were sitting on a curb eating chicken. He couldnât blame them- he would be curious too. But he truly couldnât find it in himself to care.
Not when his heart beat so fast it could burst from his chest at any moment. Bucky ran sentences through his mind, desperate to find an opener. Some way to start. He couldnât just blurt it out- could he?
âYou know- Iâve traveled all over the place. You just canât beat New York Buffalo hot wings.â YN commented, sipping her drink. Bucky chuckled distractedly, only half listening.
âYou ever think about slowinâ down some day?â He asked, twisting his napkin into a tight spiral.
Yn didnât bat an eye at the sudden change of topic. It happened so often with them it didnât phase her at all. She hummed, leaning her forearms on her knees.
âEventually Iâll have to. Old age and such. What about you?â
Bucky sighed, copying her stance. His eyes scanned the parking lot, watchful. Wary. Paranoid.
âI wouldnât even know where to begin-â He admitted, tilting his fingers. The streetlight gleaming off the obsidian metal. Gold veins glimmering between plates. âI never thought I would make it this far.â
âMakes two of us pal.â A low chuckle escaped as she responded. Her lips pulled to the side, eyes downcast to the gravel. A rush of heat flooded his system at her words. Jaw clenching tightly.
Bucky knew she struggled, she would tell him of her time in foster homes in her teen years on late nights. He knew she was in a better place now but it didnât stop the anger he felt, the rage and sadness that washed over his already overstimulated neurons when she spoke like that.
It took everything in him not to track the bastards down and take care of them. But it wasnât his choice. He wouldnât do that to her. Not to the woman who put up with his shit, twenty four hours a day. Who cared enough for him to make sure he ate and slept. Made sure he felt cared for. Kept him alive most days.
Buckyâs eyes cut over, peeking at the woman. Even in the low light of the street, an ethereal glow of neon from the buzzing window signs casting shadows across her features, she was gloriously, imperfectly, beautifully⊠her.
The decision was made.
âYou know Iâve always got your back, right?â Bucky mumbled, watching a smile grace her lips. Eyes meeting his. It was the closest thing he could get to an âI love youâ for now. It would have to do.
âyou recently broke up with your partner, who cheated on you. knowing that you're upset and pissed, your enemy shows up at your house. you claim you don't want them there, and as you open the door, insinuating that you want them to leave, your enemy slams it shut and says ''use me.'' you know they mean in bed. and you know it's wrong. and you know you shouldn't. and you know you'll regret it. and you end up sleeping with them the same night.â
concept: after being cheated on by steve, his best friend shows up at your apartment to make good on his behalf
pairing: bucky x fem!reader, past steve x fem!reader, mentioned nat x steve, mentioned bucky x nat
warnings: asshole!bucky. smut. unprotected sex. dirty talk. choking. face slaps. cunnilingus, fingering. rough sex, lowkey kind of hate sex? itâs enemies to lovers fuckers so this is a real ride (literally). unexpected voyuerism/exhibitionism due to a surprise appearance â kind of cuckolding? male masterbation
word count: 2.8k
eighteen plus only â by choosing to âkeep readingâ, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. do not interact with this story if you are a minor.
âCâmon sweetheart,â you hear the honeyed, raspy voice of the brunette behind your front door, âI went out of my way just to come check up on yaâ.â
Check up on you, your eyes roll, asshole.
âFuck off, Barnes!â you shout back at him through the wood, âYou, and your best friend can both go to hell!â
The chuckle he emits only serves to irritate you further, âLook, I drove all the way here-â
âYou live fives minutes away, you couldâve walked.â
Bucky sighs, why were you so difficult? âJust open the damn door.â
âIf I open it, will you finally piss off?â
âSergeantâs honour, mâlady,â and you hate the way it makes you snort.
Opening the door, you offer him a barely contained grimace as you step aside, âBarnes.â
âAh, there she is. Donât you look as terrible as ever.â As he walks over the threshold, and into your apartment you canât help but flick his ear, âOw! What is with the violence?â
You leave the door open as you turn to him, âWhy the fuck are you here?â
âYou can put the claws away, kitten, Iâm just here to see how youâre doinâ,â he offers you a false grin, âJust couldnât bear the thought of you all lonely, grieving your relationship.â
Rolling your eyes you ask, âDo you just like, choose to be the worst person to exist? Or did your parents not love you enough as a child?â
âLow blow, sweetheart,â you eye as he walks around your apartment, huffing out small laughs as he notices all the missing frames, âAlready redecorating?â
âIs there a reason for this visit, Barnes? Because Iâd rather deal with Natasha right now,â your eyes narrow, âAnd sheâs the one who fucked him.â
Bucky turns around, looking at you as he shrugs, âNatâs a lousy lay anyways.â
âAnd of course you would know,â seemingly defeated, you close the front door before walking over to the 6â3 man, annoyance showing on your features as you question, âSeriously, why are you here?â
The mischievous smirk he gives sends goosebumps down your spine, âIâm here for reparations, sweetheart.â
âWhy? You gonna let me punch you in the face on Steveâs behalf?â
âNo,â and you try to pretend that your heart doesnât jump as you feel his breath fan over your lips, âIâm gonna let you fuck me.â
You snort, âOh, you are?â
âSeems fair, doesnât it?â Buckyâs hand cups your jaw, his thumb tracing a line as he says, âHe fucks your best friend, so you fuck his. Iâd say fair is fair.â
You raise an eyebrow, âAnd this has nothing to do with the fact that Nat was fucking you on the side?â
ââCourse not,â his eyes harden, âLike I said, âa lousy layâ.â
Chuckling you say, âGod, youâre an asshole, Barnes.â
âCâmon kitten,â his mouth moves to your ear, hot and wanton as he says, âUse me.â
Maybe if you were stronger youâd have pushed him away, but youâd be lying if you said the thought didnât appeal to you. Besides, itâs not like this would be the first time youâd sleep with Bucky.
âDonât you remember, sweetheart?â and you can hear his smile, âMade you cum so many times that night.â
You hold back a smirk, âHm, donât think I do. What was it, like three years ago?â
âYou can pretend all you want, but Iâve always wondered,â and his lips latch onto your neck, sucking at a spot he knows all too well, âDid you ever think of me, when you fucked him?â
It makes your core burn, but youâd never give him the pleasure of knowing, âDid you ever think of me, when you fucked her?â
He stills, pulling back before saying, âEvery single fuckinâ time, sweetheart.â
And thatâs when your lips meet in a frenzied, passionate kiss â driven by all the pent up emotions that had now risen to the surface.
âFuck,â Bucky groans against your lips, hands falling to your hips as he forces your cloth covered cunt against his denim, âYou sound so pretty for me, sweetheart.â
Breaking away from his lips, your hands go around his neck as you tell him, âYou gonna let me use you, James?â
His cock hardens even more than it already has at the use of his given name falling like sin from your wicked tongue, âYeah, kitten. âM yours, so do your worst.â
The sharp slap across his cheeks takes him by surprise, head moving to the side as a huff of air leaves him before your hand is gripping his chin and pulling him back to focus on you. âThen get on your fucking knees for me, baby.â
There was nothing more arousing than the sight of this beefy, burly man looking up at you. Taking your finger, you trail it down his forehead, his nose, before eventually settling in between his lips â tapping once, and feeling a fire ignite in your core at the way he greedily sucks it in.
You feel his tongue swirl around your digit, his eyes flashing with something dark before you pull it away, âCâmon kitten, thought I told you to use me.â He grins, âOr are you really so fuckinâ pathetic, you canât even do that?â
The sting on his skin feels good, and he knows that by the time the two of you are done, heâs going to have the prettiest pink imprint of your hand on his face.
Gripping the back of his head, you bring him towards you, âYou really just donât know when to shut the fuck up, do you Barnes?â
Bucky doesnât get the chance to respond before his mouth is pushed against your cunt, and he groans at the wetness that seeps through the fabric. His tongue immediately massages your slit, groaning at the taste of your nectar.
Hands reach under your sundress, getting a hold of your underwear before tugging them down in a haste. And as soon as theyâre off, Buckyâs got his tongue buried in your cunt.
âFuck!â you squeal as your hands fist his short locks, a leg thrown over his shoulder as you try to balance yourself, âJames!â
âPussy taste so sweet, kitten,â he growls against you, and you look down to catch his eyes already on yours, âGo on, grind down on my face, use my tongue to make yourself cum.â
His tongue licks a fat stripe up your folds, the action being repeated as his large hands grip your soft thighs, slapping down when he feels you cry out from the way he takes the bundle of nerves into his mouth, âShit, Bucky!â
Lapping at your juices, his tongue moves further down before itâs teasing your empty hole, âThatâs it sweetheart, ride my tongue, câmon.â
His thumb comes over to rub at your swollen clit, working in tandem with his tongue, and you feel the coil threatening to snap as you hear the wet sounds of your juices, ââM gonna cum, oh my fucking god - âm so close!â
It spurs him on, deciding to switch tactics, he replaces his tongue in your cunt with two of his fingers â pumping them roughly as his tongue greets your nub again. âThatâs it kitten, can feel you clenching down on my fingers, let go for me, use me.â
His name leaves your lips in a loud cry, your nails digging into his scalp and Bucky canât help but groan in pleasure from the pain it brings. Your orgasm floods his mouth, sweet and salty as he drinks it down.
Bucky gives one last kiss to your core before he pulls away, grinning up at you, and even with shaky limbs, you still manage to roll your eyes at the obvious ego boost.
âFeel better now, sweetheart?â His arrogant tone is enough to make you almost kick him out â but the sound of your phone ringing depletes that idea, recognising who was calling, ââS that him?â
It gives you a new sense of vigor, leaning down to connect your lips against the brunettes, moaning as you taste yourself on his tongue, âBedroom,â you instruct him. âNow.â
The walk to your bedroom is hurried, tearing off each otherâs clothing before making your way in, and pushing Bucky onto the bed. It doesnât take you long to straddle him, leaning down so that you can kiss him â all the while your hand wanders down his chest before rubbing over the trail of hairs that lead to his groin.
âMm,â you moan against his lips as you feel his cock leak against your folds, âYouâre so fucking hard, baby.â
âWanna feel you wrapped âround my cock, sweetheart,â his voice is strained with lust, âNeed to feel this tight pussy take me.â
You tuck his member between your wet folds, rubbing along his shaft as you lubricate him with your juices, grinning down at the way he sucks in harsh breaths from the feeling. âYou like that, baby? Like the way it feels against your cock?â
âYouâre a fuckinâ cunt,â he growls as he tries to catch his cock on your hole, only to snarl when you pick yourself up off him.
âCâmon, Bucky baby, whyâre you being so mean?â your head tilts to the side, faux innocence oozing from you, ââM letting you have what I know youâre so desperate for, so why are you acting like such a spoiled dick?â
âIf my dick doesnât get in you-â
You cut him off with a laugh, âYouâll what?â and before he has a chance to respond, youâre taking hold of his cock and lining it up with your entrance.
The two of you let out cries as the feeling of your walls squeeze around him, almost protesting the intrusion, âFuck,â he wheezes beneath you. âSo fuckinâ tight, kitten.â
ââS big, Bucky,â you gasp at the full feeling his dick provides, âSo fucking thick, oh my god!â
âWhoâs fuckinâ desperate for it now?â the grip on your waist is harsh, almost painful as he pistons his hip up inside of you.
Your hands fall to his neck, a smirk forming as you tell him, âYâknow, I like you better when youâre quiet.â
The feeling of your hands wrapped tightly around his throat has Bucky twitching inside of you, his balls threatening a release as he watches you with wild eyes.
You give yourself a moment to adjust on his cock, a throb already aching as you force yourself to take it. But he was just so big â his length was thick and lean, just like the rest of him.
The first roll of your hips has you choking on a moan, you can feel him everywhere. Bucky hits a spot inside of you that has you wondering how you ever only let yourself have one night with him.
Slowly, you begin to rise and fall on his member, letting yourself take control of the pace, âFuck, baby. Youâre so deep inside me.â
You ride him faster, chasing the release youâre on the precipice of â head thrown back as your eyes close as the lust overwhelming your sense with a moan of his name leaving your lips, so loud that you miss the sound of the front door opening.
âThatâs it, kittenâ Buckyâs voice is hoarse as you remove your hands, fingernails digging into his broad chest, âCream my fuckinâ dick, thatâs it.â
You gush around his cock, still rolling your hips as your body tingles with heat from the intensity of your orgasm â you barely have time to readjust as Bucky flips you onto your back, fucking into you with total abandonment.
âFuuuuuck, sweetheartâ the man rasps, âLook how good you take my cock, fuckinâ made for it. Shouldâve fucked you sooner.â
âYes, yes, yes! Shit, Bucky, baby, please!â
He chuckles, âSo fuckinâ greedy for it arent ya? Just desperate for some good dick, that right?â
Your eyes are barely open as you clutch onto his biceps, your legs around his waist as you bring him in deeper.
âFeel me in yaâ guts, donât yaâ, kitten?â Bucky grins salaciously as he catches the figure in the corner of his eye, âMilkinâ my fuckinâ cock like you own it.â
âBucky!â it seems like thatâs the only coherent word you can string together while heâs hitting that spot inside of you over, and over again.
He bites down on your neck, a bruising kiss as he licks it over before admiring his work â god, you were so fucking pretty.
âDonât know how that punk was so stupid,â he groans as he feels you clench down on him, âLettinâ you go so easy, what a dickhead.â
âNo?â he tuts, âBut heâs right here, kitten. Lookinâ at you like he still wants yaâ.â
It makes you pause, as though ice cold water has been poured over you as your eyes open and meet those of your ex-boyfriend, âWhat the fuck!â
But he doesnât answer you, too focused on the way your cunt swallows his best friendâs dick, âGive him a show, sweetheart.â Buckyâs lips are by your ear, âShow him what heâll never get again, this perfect fuckinâ pussy.â
And if that wasnât a driving force â you didnât know what was.
You keep your eyes on Steve, a devious expression threatening to take over at the obvious stain thatâs forming on the front of his pants as he watches you be taken apart, âHey!â Buckyâs hand strikes your cheek before grabbing hold of your jaw harshly, pulling you back to look at him, âIs it my dick in your pussy?â
Nodding, you make sure you agree with him.
âYeah? Then keep your fuckinâ eyes on meâ and you feel your wetness dripping onto the sheets at the rough display of dominance, âGot it?â
You lean up so that you can catch his lips with yours, an apology as you push your tongue into his mouth in a hot, filthy kiss as you promise that you will.
It makes him grin, how compliant you are under his command, âDamn Steve, you really gave up pussy this good?â
The words make heat flood your veins, Buckyâs taunting only making you squeeze him harder.
âGo on, Stevieâ the brunette urges, âTake out your dick, thisâll be the last time you see her like this.â
âLook at him sweetheart, look at how pathetic he is,â and youâre surprised when you realise the blonde made no objection to his best friendâs demand. Fisting himself quickly as he keeps his eyes on where you, and Bucky connect. âStroking his dick as he watches me fuck this little hole.â
You canât lie and say your mouth doesnât water at the sight.
âYou gonna cum, kitten?â Bucky wonders, but the crease between your eyebrows is indication enough â not to mention the way your nails dig into his flesh, or the way your eyelashes are fluttering.
âYeah! Yes, Bucky - shit - âm so close,â you welcome his tongue into your mouth again, âGonna cum for you, gonna cum again, oh fuck!â
He can feel his own balls tightening, and he drives his cock in and out of your cunt with rough, deep strokes, âFuck, câmon sweetheart. Cum all over my cock, and Iâll fill you up, make you full of me.â
âYes!â your legs shake as your orgasm pulses through you, your core tightening as the pleasure engulfs your body in flames, âOh fuck, Bucky! So fuckinâ good, you fuck me so good, shit!â
âFuck âm gonna cum too, kittenâ he swears, hand still on your chin as he forces you to keep looking at him, âGonna cum so deep in this cunt, youâre gonna be leakinâ for days.â
As your orgasm subsides, you move your hands up to Buckyâs hair, willing him to come down so you can whisper into his ear, âI did.â
âWha-â
âWhen he was fucking me, I thought about you,â and with an unexpected tender kiss to his lips, Buckyâs grunting as he releases inside of you. His warm seed coating your walls as his balls pulse, your pussy truly milking him for all that heâs worth â he almost forgets about the guest.
The two of you look over when you hear the whine, eyes falling onto Steve as he cums all over his hand, and clothes. And just like that, that dark expression youâd come to enjoy crosses Buckyâs features.
You bite your lip as he extracts himself from you, âHold it in, sweetheart.â And with a wink, Buckyâs getting off the bed and walking over to Steve, tapping his cheek with the palm of his hand before saying, âYou wanna make it up to her, Stevie?â
And your thighs squeeze together as your mixed release threatens to spill even more than it already has.
Once the blonde nods, Bucky grins at you both wickedly, âThen go over there, and clean my cum outta her pussy.â
Hiii! Just saw that youâre requests are open! I domt know if you have a list of things to write down but could you write a very fluffy bucky one shot based on Sebâs last two posts on ig (the video and the xmas tree). It would be amazing seeing how bucky would handle all the xmas situation đ„°đ„° Thank you, love â€ïž
pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader
warnings: just a whole lotta fluff, and two pining idiots in love, one swear is used - this is also sorta from buckyâs pov
word count: 2k
from the author: hi beautiful!! thank you for sending in a request for this <3 iâm so sorry that this was posted after christmas, i meant for this to be up a little earlier but was unable to!!
eighteen plus only â by choosing to âkeep readingâ, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. do not interact with this story if you are a minor.
âCâmon man, just pick a damn tree!â Sam groans, shaking in his five layers of clothing as he waits on a certain super soldier who canât seem to make up his mind.
Bucky ignores him as he walks around the field, rigorously searching to find the perfect Christmas tree. He hadnât celebrated since the winter of â40, so to say he was a little overwhelmed, would be an understatement.
It wasnât until he heard you kindly call his name that he felt a little bit of his nerves ease. âYeah, doll?â he answers back, eyes searching the plethora of green surrounding him until he finds you â a cheeky grin plastered on your face that has his stomach fluttering.
âYo, think you can handle following Tin Man âround? I promised Misty Iâd be home by 3. Iâve gotta help prep the food for dinner tomorrow night.â Sam explains, rubbing his eyes. âI canât miss out again, plus with the baby on the way...â
âItâs okay, Sammy. We can handle it from here.â You turn to the other man with a gentle smile. âRight, Buck?â
âAll covered.â
Sam grins with his thanks. âSee you two lovebirds later.â
Sheepishly, the two of you watch as he walks away, silence overtaking the space between you.
âJust the two of us,â Bucky says, letting out an awkward cough.
âWe can make it if we tried,â you sing with a hiccup of giggles.
And okay, maybe your singing voice wasnât as melodious as when you say his name but Bucky still thinks itâs pretty great, if the goofy grin on his face is anything to go by.
âLetâs find your tree and get it home so we can decorate.â Your hand reaches out, holding onto one of Buckyâs before heâs pulling back, and your left wondering whatâs wrong.
âUh, sorry, doll...â he begins, not really knowing what to say. âYou were reaching for my metal hand and I didnât want you to get colder.â
From the look in your eyes, he knows you donât believe his terrible lie. âWell Ihave gloves on so...â you trail off as you hold his hand again. Beaming with a smile you say, âSee? Perfect.â
And as your fingers squeeze his gently, pulling him into the direction of your favourite tree, he agrees â perfect.
Youâre belly laughing at seeing Bucky attempt to bring the Christmas tree up the apartment stairs.
âYou shouldâve just said yes when the guy asked if you wanted someone to bring it up!â You lean over the railing slightly to see him still trudging along.
Bucky would roll his eyes if he didnât like the sound of your amused snorting as much as he did â before quickly reminding the butterflies in his stomach that the two of you were just friends.
Friends who occasionally lingered touches, or caught each otherâs eyes no matter where you were. The late night cuddles during your movie nights â alright so maybe friends wasnât even the right term to label whatever it is that the two of you share. Because really, you were both stuck in the in-between.
âYou couldâve helped, yaâknow!â Though he tries to sound stern, his resounding grin gives it away.
You raise your eyebrows. âOh really? Because I totally didnât try to in the lobby, huh?â
And okay youâve got him there, but Bucky thought he wouldnât be much of a gentleman if he had asked you to help carry a 7ft tree up six flights of stairs.
The brunette just huffs as he continues on his journey with only a flight left.
When he finally reaches the top, the sound of your cheerful squeal makes the sweat pooling on his forehead worth it.
âNo, dude! We have a theme going, yaâknow what a theme is, hm? Itâs all the shades of blue and pearly whites remember?â
The attempt he makes ar defiance is poor, even to him.
âIt was your idea, Big Guy.â Itâs the third time youâve reminded him as he tries to sneak red baubles.
He sighs, âI know, I know. But now that weâre actually decorating, itâs just not very...â
âFestive?â you answer for him.
âYeah! I mean, I thought a break from tradition might be good but I think I sort of miss it.â Bucky explains, and your heart clenches at the far-away look in his eyes.
Shyly, you tell him, âActually, I think I might have something to help with that.â
With an intrigued look from the man, you walk over to the couch where you had thrown your overnight bag earlier in the afternoon.
âI remembered the story you were telling me a couple of months ago about your Ma and your sistersâ.
And though you canât see him, Bucky nods for you to continue while you rummage through your bag.
âAbout how you guys never really had much to decorate with but always managed to find your own pine cones to paint for the tree, and well.â The noise you make is close to a celebratory squeal. âI thought we could do the same?â
Bucky didnât think his heart could pound any louder in his chest â but the sight of you pulling out a box of art supplies, along with two pines comes has his chest throbbing.
âDoll, thatâs...â he trails off as he continues to stare in disbelief at your kindness. âThatâs incredible, thank you.â
As soon as his appreciation is uttered, youâre jumping on your tippy toes and walking back over to him. âHere ya go!â
The two of you sit on the floor together, close to the tree. Itâs when youâre rambling as you pull out the paintbrushes that Bucky realises how genuinely happy he is.
With the soft crackle of the fire and the little light dusts that dance around the room with the sunlight streaming, he realises that what he feels for you is much deeper than he once thought. And it has him gnawing on his lip in worry as he overthinks â because how could he ever be good enough for you?
You, with your sharp wit and knowing eyes. Always willing to help a stranger without a second thought and making sure to always turn up and be there for the people that you love. The way that you laugh at beer commercials and always crying during Titanic, no matter how many times youâve seen it.
But itâs also the small things that you do when you think no one is watching; like the drop of your shoulders when you can finally steal a moment away for yourself, how you close your eyes for a just few seconds too long when standing under the golden sun â smiling at how its warmth flutters across your skin.
Buckyâs always seen himself as desolate, never bright enough to have the gift of being in your presence. But maybe, he thinks â maybe he is good enough.
Because youâre here, with him.
Itâs the sound of your voice that brings him back from his overwhelming thoughts. âYou okay, Buck?â
He wants to mumble apologies as concern crosses your features. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he assures you, âYeah, doll. Just thinkinâ âbout how much bettaâ my pine coneâll beâ.
You push his shoulder with yours playfully. âYouâre on, Sarge!â
Itâs just past seven when the tree is finally complete. Both of your pine cones shining like a prize at the front next to each other; looking as though they were decorated by kindergarteners.
But his thoughts arenât focused on that anymore â not when youâre quoting every second line of the Grinch. Bucky feels content, letting you snuggle up into the side of his body as you enjoy the movie.
He doesnât realise he hasnât been paying attention, until he notices your eyes are staring directly into his. With a shy smile, you tell him, âIâm gonna get some more wineâ.
âIâll get it for you, doll, youâre the guest hereâ.
âI think Iâve passed guest status, Iâm here almost every day, Buckâ.
He laughs, agreeing as he scoots you to sit up properly before taking the glass from your hands. âIâll be back, darling.â
Itâs not until he has a moment to himself in the kitchen does he realise the endearment he used â darling â intimate and soft.
Bucky breathes deeply in an attempt to ground himself, trying to shake off whatever heâs feeling because heâs unsure of where youâre at. Because, though there are moments he thinks that maybe you feel the same way, his self doubt is much stronger than the belief that you could return his feelings.
Realising heâs taking a little long, he quickly pours your wine. Turning, heâs caught off-guard by the sight of you standing in the archway. Buckyâs cheeks feel warm as you say, âYou were taking a while, thought Iâd come see if you were okay.â
Heâs quick to assure you, âIâm good, doll.â
You donât look as though you believe him as you move closer. âYou like traditions, right?â
When Bucky nods, he watches as you point to the roof before becoming as red as the wine that stains your lips.
âWhatâs this one mean?â
âDoll..â Itâs only when you give him a small smile that he continues, âWell, the Ancient Greeks would kiss under a mistletoe because of itâs association with fertility â but if you spoke to the Romanâs, enemies at war used it to reconcile their differences, believing that it represented peace.â His nose brushes yours gently. âBut most people use it nowadays as an excuse to kiss the person they likeâ.
You nod thoughtfully. ââS that so?â
âYup.â
âSo, that probably means you should kiss me, yeah?â The way you ask is nonchalant but Bucky feels like his brain has stopped working.
He tries to stutter out a reply, but his mind is short circuiting and nothing comes out.
âCâmon Buck, weâve been going âround in circles for too long. Honestly I thought youâd finally realise how I felt about you after the pine cones, but apparently, youâre still a man who needs someone to spell it out for himâ.
âWh-what?â is all he can manage.
You step closer to him and he swears your perfume makes him dizzy. âI like you, and I for a while now. But since youâre not making any of the moves here, I thought Iâd try.â
The answer you receive is one of completely silence.
âUnless Iâve read this all wrong, and in that case-â
âNo, you havenât.â At the inquisitive tilt of your head, he adds, âYou arenât reading this wrong. Itâs just â youâre one of my closest friends, and I didnât want to fuck that up.â
âYou couldnât, trust me.â
He finds himself reaching out to hold your cheek in his palm, inching closer to you. As your breath hitches he asks, âIs this okay?â.
âAbsolutely.â And he wants to groan at the way your breath hitches in anticipation.
Bucky doesnât need further convincing as he pulls you closer, finally presses his lips against yours. Itâd been a long time coming â this moment. The taste of your strawberry lips has him grinning into the kiss.
You return his passion with just as much fervour, bringing your hands up to tangle themselves in his hair as you pull him closer to you.
After a moment, the two of you break away with love-struck expressions.
âYaâknow, I was totally gonna ask you out tonight.â
âSure you were, Buck.â
âI was!â
The two of you are laughing, arms wrapped around each other.
âYouâre such a dork,â you say through a grin so wide itâs making your eyes crinkle and nose scrunch â he decides there, that itâs his favourite of all your smiles.
Bucky doesnât get the chance to argue as you pull him back in for another blissful kiss.
waitttt iâm curious.. in forever and a day au what would bucky do when say astra is old enough to go to pre k and all the other dads gawk over you / what you would do if the moms were gawking over bucky
notes: grace, i love this!! first half is how bucky reacts, and the second is how reader does. i hope you enjoy it xo
au masterlist
âDoes he do that often?â Derek, the father of the five year old boy playing with your daughter asks, an apprehensive glance toward your husband who stands across the classroom.
âHm?â Your eyes drift over to the brunette, biting back a laugh at the annoyance that shows on his face. âOh, Bucky? Donât worry, you get used to it.â
It doesnât take long for the man in question to make his way over to you, hand coming to rest on your lower back with a false smile. âHi sweetheart, whoâs this?â
âThis is Derekââ
âDavid,â he interjects sheepishly.
Itâs then you feel Bucky relax, when you hadnât even bothered to remember the guyâs name.
âRight, David.â You nudge your husbandâs side playfully when you hear him snicker. âIf my head wasnât screwed on, yâknow?â
âItâs totally fine, no offence taken.â
Bucky covers his mouth with a hand, trying to not show his amusement â to which you grab his arm and begin pulling him away.
âNice meeting you, Dean!â He calls over his shoulder.
âYouâre an ass,â you mutter under your breath, trying to hold back your laughter.
Leaning down to your ear, Bucky teases. âYou love my ass.â
When Astraâs teacher rang one Saturday afternoon, you found it odd when she assumed Bucky would answer the phone. Still, you thought nothing of it as you agreed to a meeting with her to discuss your daughterâs progress.
âItâs so great of you to invite us to talk about Astra, weâve been so nervous having her start early.â You explain, feeling Bucky interlock your fingers with his.
She nods, though her eyes remain on your husband â light and cheery as she runs her fingers through her hair.
âSheâs a great kid,â Miss Ryder compliments. âVery bright, and inquisitive.â
Bucky grins as he looks over at you. âOur little star gets that from her mother.â
Before you can reply, the other woman interjects, âOh donât sell yourself short, Mr. Barnes.â
Itâs not that youâre a jealous person â far from it. But the airy tittle that leaves her has you close to taking on an infamous Barnes glare.
âIâm not,â his tone is sweet as he squeezes your hand. âBut my wife definitely has one over me, sheâs getting her P.H.D â gonna be Dr. Barnes soon enough.â
You know Bucky wouldnât have picked up on her flirting; the man was useless when it came to reading women, but it warmed your heart to hear him praise you.
It sure pulled that bottom lip out from between her teeth.
âSays the man whose saved the universe countless times.â Maybe it was silly, but you still leant over to press a kiss to his stubble.
Bucky turns back to the teacher. âWe make a great team.â He tells her kindly before adding, âSo, was there anything else about Astra you wanted to mention?â
Miss Ryder crosses her arms, chest rising. âNope. That was all.â
âThank you,â you keep your voice sincere. âAstraâs lucky to have a teacher who cares so much about her well-being, we appreciate it.â
Her smile is sharp. âNo problem, thank you for coming.â
âFunny,â Bucky quirks a brow at you. âThatâs exactly what Iâll be saying later tonight.â
Oh, so maybe he did realise.
You push him towards the door with a beaming smile. âMen, what can you do?â
How about a reader who is literally the female version of Bucky
Grumpy One and Grumpy Two
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word Count: 1,492
Summary: You and Bucky are both grumpy...but not to each other because hey...you get it and so does he.
Author's Note: Hey anon! Thanks a bunch for this request. I immediately thought of my fav grumpy Bucky and this just took on a life of it's own. Hope you enjoy it! Have a great day! HUGS! Thank you all so very much for reading! Much love always! â€â€â€ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf
Warnings: some soft fluff, cuteness, little flirting, teasing, grumpiness and a spicy ending, one curse I think lol
Gif NOT MINE: Credit goes to @ransomflanagan Thank you so much!
You walk into the kitchen, sighing at the smell of warm coffee and grab a mug. Bucky sits at the counter, his mug to his lips and his eyes on his book. You donât say a word, an unspoken understanding that no one talks this early and definitely not before coffee.
You prepare your coffee and sit beside him, taking out your phone and scrolling through messages as you sip. The silence is comfortable.
âMorninâ you two!â Sam chimes, his smile bright.
You and Bucky look up and grunt in unison. Sam looks from you to Bucky and back to you.
âYea. Ok then,â he says with a roll of his eyes. âWhat is this? The grumpy breakfast club?â
Neither of you acknowledge his jab and he glares. With a shake of his head and a loud scoff he pours his own cup and leaves.
You finish your coffee and as youâre walking out you give Bucky a soft smile. He smiles back and wiggles his fingers in a goodbye.
The next morning you arrive in the kitchen first and make your coffee. You make sure to keep the pot hot for when Bucky comes in. He shows up shortly after and gets his usual mug. He prepares his coffee and sits next to you.
His leg bounces against the cabinet and you can see the tension drawn tight in his face. You want to ask him if heâs ok but you know the quiet is better for now. Instead, you get up and search for paper. When you find a pack of post its in the drawer you take one out and write him a small note.
You wash your cup then turn his way and stick the post it on the counter in front of him before smiling and walking out.
âHope you have a good day! <3â
Bucky reads it and his smile grows. He neatly folds it up and sticks it in his back pocket.
Later than afternoon youâre sitting in the living room and reading. Bucky walks in and sits down next to you on the couch.
âMind if I join you?â he asks quietly.
âNot at all,â you tell him.
After reading for a while your stomach grumbles and you giggle, getting up and walking into the kitchen. You make yourself a sandwich and make Bucky one too.
You come back to the couch and place the plate in front of him with a smile.
âThank you,â he whispers. âHow did you know I was hungry?â
âArenât you always hungry?â you reply with a sideways smirk.
âYep,â he says, popping the p. âYou also made my favorite. How did you know?â
âLucky guess,â you say with a wink.
He looks over at your sandwich and sees itâs the same as his. He smiles and takes a bite.
âSo good,â he mumbles.
You nod in agreement and curl up with your sandwich and book. The next thing you know you wake up to the warmth and smell of Bucky. You sit up with a start and almost knock over your sandwich plate. Bucky is nowhere to be found but his Henley is draped over you and your book has a small post it stuck to the cover.
âYou fell asleep. Thought you might get cold and I had to leave to help Sam <3â
You smooth out the post it and giggle, rubbing your finger over the little heart he drew.
Bucky and Sam leave early the next morning for a mission so when you go to make your coffee and see his post it note you smile and stick it to your shirt.
âHave a good day doll. I left the pot on for ya <3â
They are gone for the entire day and late into the night so when morning comes and youâre back in the kitchen itâs no surprise Bucky isnât up yet. You decide to prepare his coffee for him and also write him a little note.
You get his favorite mug and the cream and sugar and leave it all out and ready for him.
âHope the mission went well, see you later <3â
Youâre gone for most of the day with errands and when you return and see a bright pink post it on your door you rush over.
âDinner? Iâll make the sandwiches! <3â
After cleaning up and changing into comfortable clothes you go to the kitchen and find Bucky sitting at the island in his usual spot. He looks up at the sound of your feet and smiles softly.
âNice shirt,â he murmurs.
âThanks. Itâs warm. I like it,â you say as you brush your hands over his blue Henley.
He winks at you and gets up to make the sandwiches.
The two of you are happily munching away when Sam strolls in and as usual, heâs smiling.
âAnyone make me a sandwich?â he asks, looking at your plates.
âNah,â Bucky mumbles.
Sam turns to you.
âHe made mine,â you mutter, pointing your half-eaten sandwich at Bucky.
âWaitâŠhe,â Sam starts, pointing a finger at Bucky, âmade youâŠa sandwich?â
âYeaaaa,â you say with sass, narrowing your eyes.
Sam stares.
âAnd no one made me a sandwich?â Sam continues.
Both you and Bucky shrug your shoulders in answer. Sam drops his head and mutters under his breath. You watch him walk to the refrigerator and gather the ingredients to make himself one. He turns the light on above the sink and blows out a raspberry when both you and Bucky curse.
âYou guys are ridiculous,â he huffs.
You get up to drop your plate into the sink and Sam does a double take. He grabs your shoulder and turns you around to face him.
âIs that Buckyâs Henley?â he asks, his face filled with shock.
You look down and then back up, your mouth opening and closing before an answer comes out.
âIt is. I was coldâŠâ you trail off, suddenly feeling defensive.
âYea! She was COLD,â Bucky reiterates, âand Iâm a gentleman.â
Samâs mouth lifts into a mischievous smirk. âYea. Iâm sure thatâs all it was. No way you two are doing the dirty. If you were, neither of you would be so grumpy.â
âIâM NOT GRUMPY!â you and Bucky shout simultaneously.
Sam blows an obnoxiously loud raspberry and takes his sandwich to go.
âYea. Ok. Whatever you guys say,â Sam teases on his way out.
You watch him leave, then spin on your heels and stomp back to your seat.
âGrumpy! He doesnât know what heâs talking about!â you grumble.
âI know!â Bucky agrees. âWhat? Weâre grumpy just because we want peace and quiet in the morning?!â
âExactly!â you say, throwing your hands up. âI guess we have to be super smiley with sunshine coming out our asses all the time.â
âShit,â Bucky scoffs. âAnd I canât believe he thinks that if weâŠ.â and he motions between the two of you, âwere ya knowâŠit would make us less grumpyâŠâ
âI mean it doesnât even matter even if we wereâŠ,â you begin, then wave your hand between your bodies, âyou knowâŠweâre not grumpy!â you declare.
âWeâre not,â Bucky states, clearing his throat. âHeâs the one who needs to get laid.â
âRIGHT!â you snort. âHe should talk.â
You take a long drink of your water, swallowing hard when you catch Bucky staring.
âWhat?â you ask in a breathy whisper.
âYou look really cute in my Henley,â he answers as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.
âOh, well, thanks. Itâs really comfy,â you tell him.
The air is heavy with tension and you try to avert your eyes but his intense stare keeps you rooted to the spot, your skin heating.
âWanna come byâŠâ he starts.
âMaybe we could watchâŠâ you say at the same time.
Laughter fills the room and you see a light dusting of pink on his cheeks.
âIâd love to hang out,â you say, grabbing your water.
âGreat,â he smiles.
You start to walk toward his room and your fingers brush along his, the contact sending a zip of electricity across your skin. You suck in a breath but before you can recover he takes your hand and spins you, pinning you against his door.
âWhat do you say we skip the movie?â he simpers, pressing his hips into yours.
âFuck the movie and fuck me instead,â you whisper, biting your bottom lip.
He lifts his hand and smooths his thumb over your lip, pulling it free of your teeth.
âOh, Iâm gonna baby doll. So good,â he promises.
He dips his head, leaning in closer and brushing his lips across your cheek until they meet the skin just below your ear. You clutch his biceps, holding yourself steady as his nose runs down your neck. He pulls away just enough to look in your eyes, his own dark and full of hunger.
âI already feel less grumpy,â you purr before pressing your lips to his.
Summary:Â The Baron, a powerful member of the High Table and the Sokovian aristocracy, takes you for his bride, despite your objections.
Warnings: This has dark themes and as such is 18+ only. Bucky is not a bad guy here (although he does bad things), but the Baron is. There are references to forced marriage, nonconsensual sex (although this is not depicted in the story), and abusive and controlling behavior. Violence, murder, and death.
Word count: 1.9K
A/N: I don't think I've ever ventured into dark fic territory before and I didn't even realize I was doing it until I was like "oh, yeah, that's kind of dark"đ€ŁAlso, way back when, I had the idea that this picture of Bucky felt like a mafia henchman who was in love with the boss's woman. I sent an ask to that end to the amazing @angrythingstarlight and she wrote up a drabble using the idea. My story was not inspired by her drabble (but I did reach out to her before I wrote it) and any similarities are unintentional. Finally, this is not officially a John Wick AU but the High Table is a reference to that world, as is the mention of the "boogeyman". Oh! And the Baron is never mentioned by name but it's someone we all know. Divider by the ever talented @whimsicalrogers Thanks for reading!
Every little girl dreams of this day.
That's they told you when you were young. What they didnât say was how sometimes that dream is a nightmare.
You dig your fingers like claws into the bedspread beneath you. His ring has slipped sideways on your finger and a prong catches on the fine fabric. You should care- the bedding is delicate and costs more than the rent for your old apartment- but you donât. Because itâs his, just like everything else in the room, and you hate it just as much as you hate him.
Your clenched jaw tics as you flick your eyes to the large clock against the wall. He will be here soon.
Your eyes prick, but you refuse to cry. You wonât give him your tears. Not after heâs taken everything else from you.
You stretch your neck up and square your shoulders. You draw in measured breaths, ignoring how much you hate the way the nightgown he chose for you clings to your body. Itâs a flimsy thing but feels just as restrictive as your heavy, corseted gown had been.
For a moment, when youâd taken the wretched thing off, you felt the briefest sense of relief- if only because you could breathe properly again. But it did not last, not when you found the attendants waiting for you. Waiting to primp and prep you just to his liking for your âspecialâ night.
Your teeth grind together once again and your fingers tighten. You held off the inevitable as long as you could, hoping that you could somehow talk your way out of it. When that failed, you hoped for a miracle. But it didn't come. It was never going to come; you were a fool to ever even hope for such a thing.
When your father first told you heâd arranged your engagement, you'd laughed in his face. Until he backhanded yours.
No one says ânoâ to the Baron. Not that your father would have anyways. The Baron wanted you, and your father was all too willing to take the power and position he was offering in trade. All of your objections fell on deaf ears. And when you dared to refuse flat out, he quickly disabused you of the notion that you had any choice in the matter.
Because if you didnât do it, heâd offer the Baron someone else. Someone you cared about. Someone more fragile. Someone less capable of weathering the Baronâs moods. Or his appetites.
The time ticks closer to the hour of his arrival and despite your best efforts, your heart rate quickens. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip and squeeze your eyes closed, willing your pulse to slow itself, to not betray you.
You almost manage it when muted shouting sounds from somewhere outside the door. You jump to standing when a bang reverberates through the wall and your heart crashes painfully against your ribs.
A shock of terror rips through you as the door slams open, bouncing hard against the wall. Your lips part to let loose a scream, but the sound never makes its way past your lips. Because a moment later, a figure stumbles through and pulls to an abrupt stop before you.
A feeling that you shouldn't feel washes over you.
You shouldn't feel it because the man before you is the most dangerous of them all.
They call him deadly. They call him soulless. They call him cold as winter and just as harsh. He is the boogeyman that even killers fear.
But you're relieved nonetheless.
Because they may call him Winter Soldier but there's sadness in his eyes.
Sadness so much like your own that your chest aches every time he looks at you. He's just as much a prisoner as you, of that you are sure. Heâs never spoken to you, but you know. Only someone who knows what he means to be bound could look at you like that.
But thereâs no sadness in the look he gives you now..
Now, his eyes are focused and clear, with a kind of purpose you've never seen in them before, not even when the Baron sent him out to do his dirty work.
He says nothing, but you know why he's here. After a long heartbeat, he tears his gaze away as he kicks the door closed behind him and stalks towards the walk-in closet you were to share with your new husband.
You follow him quickly, striping the gauzy nightgown off as you go.
"Just take the essentials.â
Youâve never heard him speak before. His voice is raw and low and stirs something deep in your belly. The hand that grabs your overnight bag is slick with blood.
"And be quick."
"Yes," you breathe out as you nod.
Heading into the deepest corner of the closet, you jerk the lowest drawer open. Digging deep, your fingers close around a pair of jeans. The only pair to survive the Baron's purge of your clothing. Youâre certain the only reason he had you pack in the first place was so that he could make you watch him throw everything away. Just one more reminder of his control over you.
When you realized what was happening, you managed to hide this one pair away without him seeing. They aren't your favorite but at least they're yours. Some part of yourself that he has yet to taint or steal from you.
As you pull them up over your thighs and hips, you nearly sob. You haven't felt this much like yourself in months. You want to relish in it, but thereâs no time for that now.
Made more for pageantry than function, barely any of your new clothes are suitable for the task ahead. But with the Soldierâs help, you are able to scrape together a small collection of things that will serve you until you can replace them.
You pull the plainest shirt you can find over your head and grab a black jacket. You slip your feet into the only pair of sneakers the Baron would allow you to own. And only then so that you could adhere to the grueling workout routine he insisted you follow to keep your figure the way he likes it.
"Grab any cash you can find." The Soldier says as he shoulders your bag.
You shake your head. "He doesn't let me have any."
His jaw clenches in anger.
"Fucker," he breathes out so quietly, you almost don't hear him. The corner of your mouth quirks up. Grim as it is, itâs the closest thing to a smile that's graced your lips in months.
When he catches you watching him, he clears his throat.
"Never mind, I can steal whatever you'll need."
You nod gratefully, but something about his words nudges you uncomfortably. You can't quite put your finger on why. Before you can chase the thought, he's speaking again.
âI know of a place. Somewhere you can be safe, with people who can help you start a new life.â
There it is again- that unease- but this time you know why. It's his emphasis "you" not "we" that disturbs you so.
âYouâre going there too, right?â
âIâm taking you there.â
You shake your head. "That's not what- that's not the sa-"
He interrupts you before you can finish.
Reaching into his jacket he pulls out a Beretta and holds it out to you.
"You know how to use one of these?"
You look down at the M9 and memory stirs uncomfortably in your stomach. Itâs just like the one your old body guard, Isaiah, taught you how to use when you were 15. Determined to make sure you could take care of yourself, and with all the loving patience your own father never showed you, he walked you through lesson after lesson until your technique and aim were perfect.
"Yes," you reply as you reach for it. As your hand closes around the grip, your throat tightens.
"Good. I've cleared the hall, but they'll be sending more and you need to be ready.
Heat and anger rise in your chest as an image of Isaiah flashes through your mind. You'll never forget the look on his face when the Baron told him his services would no longer be needed, as if he was just another belonging of yours to be disposed of in the purge.
The Soldier watches you from the side of his eye.
Mistaking your silence, he carefully places a light hand on your elbow.
"You won't have to do much,â he says gently. âI'll do most of the work. Just watch my back and be ready just in case."
You lift startled eyes to him. The look he offers is soft and reassuring. He lightly slides his hand down your arm and clasps your free hand in his own.
"Don't worry, I'll get you out of here."
Your emotions twist and burn through your chest. All of the frustration and anger, all of the sorrow and loss youâve been swallowing down for months rises up and catches in your throat.
You shake your head adamantly.
"Us," you choke out.
The Soldierâs brow wrinkles in confusion.
"What?"
"Weâll get us out of here. You keep saying you're going to take me somewhere safe, you're going to get me out, but what about you? What happens to you after all this?"
His eyes widen in surprise for just a moment before a shadow passes over his features. He turns his face away with a shake of his head.
âThatâs not important.â
Your lips part in protest but no sound comes out. Though his face is turned away, he stands resolute, the hard press of his lips is grim and unwavering.
You sputter out a reply. âThat- Itâs important to me!â
He snaps his head up abruptly. The shadow is gone from his gaze and you can see right through. Uncertainty swims in his blue eyes. And fear. And longing.
You step closer. You drop your voice instinctively, afraid that you'll frighten him away.
"Itâs important to me," you repeat. He searches your face. Instinctively, you lean in, your voice barely more than a whisper. "What happens to you matters to me. We're in this together."
The corners of his mouth tug downward and he swallows tightly. You can see that he's afraid to believe you, but you see, too, the soft and fragile spark of hope.
"Wherever you go, I go too." You add, making each word a promise.
He says nothing, only continues to stare as turmoil rages in his ocean eyes.
After a long minute, he shifts his grip in your hand and laces your fingers together. Warmth rushes through you when he nods.
"We should go now," his voice is low and he turns towards the door, but the corner of his mouth tics upwards for just a moment as he dips his head away.
An impulse in you begs you to kiss that timid curve of his lips, but you know now is not the time. Instead, you follow where he leads as he moves towards the door.
Just as his hand closes around the handle, he pauses. He turns his head back, making sure you can hear him.
"I should tell you... you're a widow now."
Your breath leaves you so abruptly you nearly pitch forward. To steady yourself, you lean your forehead against his back. The leather of his jacket is soft and smells of blood and gunpowder.
You draw in a measured breath, filling your lungs with the scent of him. You sigh as you breathe it out again.
"Thank you. James."
You feel him start for just a moment before the sudden tension eases from his shoulders. You feel the shift of muscle as he nods.
âReady?â
Breathing in deep, you raise your head and straighten your back. You squeeze the grip of the gun in one hand, tighten your fingers around his with the other.
Summary: Reader is at a premiere for her new film. Sebastian is featured in it, but also has a massive crush on her, and proclaims he is her biggest fan.
Warnings: NoneÂ
Words: 733
â
â(Y/N)!â The photographers yelled, catching your attention. You grinned, spinning around in their direction, flashing a confident smile. Hands resting on your hips, you plumped your lips outward at the camera, giving the look every manâs knees weak. Especially one particular gentleman who was on the red carpet himself.
On the sidelines, Sebastian Stan was eyeing you intently. Everywhere you moved, his eyes would follow. He had that nervous feeling erupt in the center of his stomach. Usually a feeling he hardly ever received, especially out on the red carpet for movies premiering.
Caught in the Middle ă Sebastian Stan x OFC x Tom Hiddleston (chapter one)
a/n: here is the official first chapter of Caught in the Middle! I hope you guys enjoy! If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know! đ
**any mistakes are my own and I apologize! sometimes i miss over details even when i sit down to edit, so bear with me y'all đ**
summary: Madelyn Pine, known by friends and family as Maddie is the daughter of Robert Downey Jr., and the best friend of Chris Evans, but chose to create a name for herself rather than live in the shadows of her father, becoming an artist. Tattooed, edgy, and overall dangerous exterior, Maddie is not the type of woman you want to play with. However, after a party game that leaves her confused upon reeling from a recent breakup and suddenly caught in the middle of two of the hottest men, Tom Hiddleston and Sebastian Stan, her life is turned crazy. The two men are vying for her attention, one taking her to London while the other whisks her away to Romania. Struggling to decide, she finds herself in love with both of them and has to choose one. But how can she... when she wants both?
pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC, Sebastian Stan x OFC
warnings: mature language, angst, smut, heavy themes
word count: 2.6k
Chapter One ă Welcome Back
âCan we please talk about this? I was stupid, Iâm sorry.â
Madelyn, known to her closest friends and family as Maddie, re-read the text message. With the roll of her eyes, she pushed a breath from between her glossed lips, rubbing her hand across her tattooed sleeve that donned her left arm. She outstretched her fingers, wiggling them, contemplating on the simple idea of texting that sleaze back. Just as she was about to possibly make a mistake, she felt a hand rest on hers.
âMaddie, donât.â
Christopher Robert Evans. Maddieâs closest confidant and ultimately brother from another mother gazed at her from the driverâs seat of his car.
Maddie and Chris had found themselves stumbling upon each other during the first Avengers film.
She was helping out on set, using the extra money to help pay for her tuition in college because she denied any help from her father, while her mother chose not to be in the picture at all. Chris had remembered when his blue eyes first settled on Madelyn to him at the time, she only had a few tattoos dancing across her skin as well as a studded nose ring.
She was edgier than ever.
If only the 2012 version of Chris could meet her now, his jaw would drop in shock.
Maddie became ultimately close with only one person on the entire Avengers cast and that was none other than Mr. Evans himself. The two had found themselves talking quite frequently during breaks when they had a spare moment. Chris was also the first one who picked up on the fact Maddie suffered from social anxiety, something he related to easily.
But he was also the first and only person to pick up on something...
Chris noticed the startling resemblance between her and his fellow cast-mate, Robert Downey Jr.
Chris remembered, just jokingly, nudging Maddie.
âI would swear you belonged to RDJ if I didnât know any betterâŠâ
It was when Maddieâs green eyes gazed up at Chris. Her face contorted into such emotion, she looked like the female version of Robert.
âFunny you say thatâŠ'' She trailed with a gentle laugh but was quick to tell Chris no one should know.
Madelyn resulted from a one-night stand shared between Chelsea Pine and Robert. The two werenât but twenty-eight, RDJâs career truly starting. When Chelsea confided in RDJ about the pregnancy, of course, he stayed. But when Maddie was born, Chelsea seemingly packed up and left. She never wanted to be a mother.
Chelsea had never once tried to reach out to her daughter, although Maddie tried desperately to reach her, but was denied every single time. Robert raised the young girl by himself and now Maddie saw Robertâs wife, Susan, like her mother.
With his eyebrows knitted in pure confusion, he stared at her in wonder. Why would she not want people to know that?
But it was for a good reason.
âIf people knew my dad was RDJ, theyâd treat me differently. I want my career based on my talent, not what my father does. Hence why I have my motherâs last name, Pine, although she isnât even in the picture.â She explained. Soon after, Chris understood entirely and promised her that he wouldnât tell a soul.
But of course, people began to find out as time passed and her career seemingly took off. She couldnât hide it for long.
When the MCU family had started to discover the news that Iron Man had a secret daughter, Madelyn found herself adamant that they never treat her any differently. She wanted to be her own person, not living in the shadows of who Robert Downey Jr. was.
Maddie had told Chris about her dreams of one day becoming a singer. She had a very unique voice and fortunately, she was discovered and added to a record label, awkwardly the one her exâs band was currently signed to.
She may have to change that when she gets back home.
âIs that why youâre covering your body with tattoos? To try and hide the fact you look like RDJ?â He chuckled, Maddie, shaking her head with a gentle smile.
âI look cool.â She winked.
Believe it or not, nothing ever aspired between the two.
Chris saw Maddie as nothing but a best friend, little sister, and then Robertâs daughter. He wouldnât dream of crossing any lines with her. They both even asked the other if they had feelings one night they were drunk, which resulted in one serious look before they seemingly busted at the seams, crying in laughter at the simple idea.
This is why Chris chose to protect Maddie at all costs. And as he gazed over her shoulder, noticing Andyâs name flashing across her screen, he shook his head.
âHe cheated on you, remember that.â He took her phone out of her hand, the twenty-eight-year-old whining. Breathing out a heavy sigh, she told herself she was done crying over him. He wanted another woman.
His loss, right?
âI was an idiot to get this,â Maddie groaned, staring down at the tattoo dancing across her wrist with Andyâs initials, ADB in black lettering, and a heart surrounding it. Andy had a matching one, but with MGP which stood for Madelyn Grace Pine.
âI couldâve told you not to get your boyfriendâs name tattooed on your skinâŠâ Chris trailed to which Maddie punched his arm.
âWanna get a matching tattoo with me this weekend?â She nudged with a simple wink. Once Chris began increasing his tattoo collection, he and Maddie had a pact.
Always go together.
Although she of course had much more than him and was there when her entire left arm was covered, they were tattoo buddies.
Chris wiggled his eyebrows, pulling the cuffs of his shirt up towards his shoulders, examining empty space before eyeing the road again.
âWhy not?â He shrugged.
Maddie clapped her hands together, smiling widely. She gazed out of the window, watching as they drove past Mulholland Drive, headed straight for the destination of the biggest Fourth of July party in Southern California.
âYour dad is excited to see you,â Chris whispered to her, his hand wrapped in hers. Maddie couldnât help but smile.
âI havenât seen dad since I got back from tour⊠I feel bad for it.â She sighed, shaking her head. Her long dark hair was curled, falling right beneath her shoulders. She wore a tight pair of skinny jeans that accented her curves, a pair of heels, and a white v-neck. Her fingers had rings covering them while her wrists donned bracelets, one of which Chris gifted her for their friendship anniversary four years ago.
Because they believed in celebrating friendship anniversaries.
âYou know,â Maddie pondered in serious thought. âI havenât seen any of the Marvel family since End Game?â She chuckled, Chris, smiling at her.
âYou havenât missed much.â
~
âMaddie!â Elizabeth suddenly leaped out of her seat, rushing over when she saw the familiar face enter the front door of the party that was being co-hosted by Robert and Jake Gyllenhaal.
âLizzie!â She chimed out, feeling as they wrapped their arms around the other.
âGeez, thanks,â Chris scoffed, Elizabeth rolling her eyes before smiling and hugging him.
âIs that Maddie?!â Tom Hollandâs voice rang aloud, his eyes widening when they rested on her.
Although they all knew now she was Robâs daughter, she became the favorite long before and all she had done was helped out with assistant roles through each of the movies, again to get by in college before her music career took off.
And they all gladly agreed to not treat her any different considering who she belonged to.
Tom and Maddie shared a hug. âWhereâs dad?â She asked.
âRight here, kiddo.â Robertâs voice called out, his figure appearing in the hallway. Maddieâs eyes widened as she rushed over and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Robert pressed a kiss against her cheek.
âHow was your tour?â He immediately asked.
Maddie sighed happily as she pulled back, lips stretched into a wide grin, gazing up at him. âIt was really good. Tiring, but so much fun.â
âMaddie?!â Susan soon appeared. âCome here, beautiful!â She nearly shoved her husband out of the way to reach her stepdaughter, causing Maddie to bust into a fit of giggles.
She then gazed over her shoulder, noting Chris, but not a certain someone.
âWhereâs Andy?â Susan suddenly asked, furrowing her brows. When she saw Maddieâs smile drop and her face contort with a pained expression, Susan already knew.
âYeah,â Maddie huffed a sigh and clapped her hands together. âBut who cares about him? I need a drink.â She held her hand up, immediately walking into the kitchen, everyone following closely behind.
âThere you are,â Jake smirked, already having a drink in his hand for Maddie to take. She grasped it and took a long sip.
Oh, the taste of alcohol somehow numbed the pain.
Just a touch.
âIs everyone here?â She asked, taking another long sip.
âSebastian and Tom just got here,â Lizzie spoke up.
âIâm right here.â Tom Holland cleared his throat, making Lizzie roll his eyes.
âHiddleston,â She slapped his shoulder playfully.
Maddie chuckled. She hadnât seen Sebastian or Tom in quite some time. They were very nice guys, she enjoyed talking to them, but while she was in a committed relationship with Andy, she mainly stayed away from any guy in general.
âDid I hear my name?â That familiar voice called out, the one she hadnât heard in a long time. Walking into the kitchen where Maddie stood was none other than dark-haired, blue-eyed, Sebastian Stan.
âYeah, we said you had a big ass forehead.â Anthony Mackie suddenly appeared out of nowhere, making Maddie squeal.
âMackie!â Maddie called out, Anthony hugging her.
He gazed down at her uncovered sleeves, eyeing the tattoos.
âDamn girl, your whole right arm is about to be covered,â He chuckled, making Madelyn bustle a laugh.
Sebastian rolled his eyes but smiled, his orbs beginning to settle on her. The last time he had ever laid eyes on her was the filming of End Game and that was a short amount due to her leaving for a tour before shooting was over. He had always found Maddie gorgeous. She was unlike any other female he had come across, with the edgy exterior, her body-colored with ink and a few piercings.
Definitely couldnât tell she was RDJâs blood.
âSebastian, will you ever stop him from the forehead jokes?â Maddie stared up at him. Sebastian chuckled, licking his lips until she winked. âBut the more I look at it⊠you do have a big ass forehead.â She shrugged her shoulders, picking the drink up and bringing it to her lips.
âVery funny, Maddie,â Sebastian said with a glint in his eye that Chris caught onto. He stood beside his dear friend, giving him a good clasp on the back, his eyes warning him to stop. He had seen the way Sebastian looked at women, he knew the looks. So far only this small group excluding Seb and Anthony, knew that Madelyn and Andy were no longer together, but he didnât want Seb making a move.
âIs Scar here?â Maddie asked, pushing herself out of her seat. She walked out onto the back patio where the massive pool was. Red, white, and blue were everywhere. This party would be something else, Maddie already knew of it.
When she made her way towards the crystal blue water that ripped underneath the almost setting sun, she saw Scarlett was talking to none other than Tom Hiddleston. Again, another face she hadnât seen since the filming of End Game before her own tour started. While she wasnât having to work as assistants to the cast members, she just wanted to be there for fun.
Also, the Russo brothers enjoyed her company and any ideas she could throw for scenes. She was on the talented side. Musically and artistically.
âScar, Tommy,â Maddie made her presence known. Tom, upon hearing that endearing nickname only she had given him, couldnât help but smile.
And for some odd reason, the exact way Sebastian felt inside of the kitchen?
Was the way he felt as his blue eyes pierced her image.
Her hair was much longer than usual and of course, he noted the additions of ink plastering her tanned skin.
âMaddie,â Tomâs accent rang thick in her ears, reaching out for her hand. Maddie easily placed it into his hand, feeling as he kissed the back of her hand. She always adored Tomâs romantic side, even if it were just under friendly circumstances. Plus, she also was enthralled heavily with his accent.
Made her wonder why she didnât choose someone British first, rather than the rockstar who hailed from Cincinnati, Ohio.
âI didnât know you were coming tonight,â Scarlett looked at Maddie. Her green eyes dazzled and Tom found himself nearly losing his sense in them. He watched as Maddie opened her mouth to answer, her features contorting beautifully as she pondered in thought.
Tom pulled himself out of his daze when the topic of Andy came up. He knew she was dating someone. She was dating Andy even during the filming of End Game.
âYeah, not a good situation,â Maddie informed Scar who tilted her head.
âIâm sorry,â She reached out and rubbed her shoulder. Maddie shook her head.
âHis loss, trust me.â She laughed, downing the rest of her drink.
By the time the night was growing dark, Chris had found himself at Maddieâs side. Everyone had a drink in their hand, some may be more wasted than others. The whole party was laughing about who knows what in life before Mr. Holland himself raised a hearty game of Truth or Dare.
âThatâs it, Iâm going inside. Goodnight everyone!â Robert announced, taking it as his cue to leave.
Tom Holland was definitely drunk off of his ass.
And it was absolutely hilarious.
âSpider-kid, what are we? Sixteen?â Maddie asked him, tossing her head back. Tom glared at her.
âWhy canât we be sixteen for the night?â Sebastian called out, staring at the beautiful woman, his eyebrows wiggling.
âYouâre drunk, too, Seb.â Maddie pointed a finger at him.
âOh, youâre just saying that because youâre scared.â Anthony stared at Maddie, now joining Sebastian and Tomâs side.
âYou just told Sebastian not even four hours ago he had a big ass forehead!â Maddie threw Mackieâs words.
Chris busted out laughing.
âIâm in⊠weâre all buzzed anyway.â He shrugged his shoulders. âHiddleston,â He pointed a finger over at the tall man who was just walking out with a drink in his hand. âGet your ass over here, weâre being sixteen again.â Chris somewhat slurred.
Tomâs eyebrows furrowed.
âPlease tell me weâre not playing Truth or Dare.â He groaned.
âAw, is Hiddles scared?â Maddie suddenly looked over at him, the alcohol seeping from her voice.
âMaddieeee, you just told me the idea was stupid!â Holland stared at her.
Maddieâs head averted in his direction.
âI did not say that,â She countered. âI just asked if we were sixteen?â
With that, Holland shook his head, Sebastian laughing.
âHolland, it was your idea, so youâre first. Truth or dare?â Seb asked him.
âDo I have time to leave?â Hiddleston prompted next, to which Maddie turned and glared at him, sticking her tongue out.
âCome on, Tommy, for me?â She batted her eyelashes and Sebastian noticed, glancing at her.
Tom rolled his eyes, straightening out his pants.
âI already feel stupid.â
Little did Madelyn Pine know, her life would change forever upon a simple yet stupid party game.
Request: fic where reader and bucky canât stand each other bu then they get into a heated argument and theyâre like locked in a small closet or something and then they start to make out
A/N; Hi, anon! So⊠I took your idea and vamped it up. This has a bit of smut in it. I loved the idea of being locked in a small space together and well⊠an elevator seemed pretty good⊠I had to go drink some water after this one⊠enjoy!Â
Warnings: yelling, little smutty,
Pushing hard against his shoulder, you made your way out of the hotel, Bucky rolling his eyes. âYou know itâs common courtesy to say âexcuse meâ, right?â He peered at you. Shaking your head, you huffed. âNot when scum is in the way.â You smiled a toothy grin, Sam mouthing an ouch in Buckyâs direction.Â
You noticed out the corner of your eye, Bucky tucking his tongue deep into his cheek, his hands resting on his hips. You and Bucky Barnes never had the easiest relationship. You two came from polar opposite worlds and neither of you figured out how to function amongst one another. Sam, Steve, Tony, everybody tried to patch up the holes but none of them could get you and Bucky eye-to-eye.Â
âSam, can we just go?â You asked. Sam simply nodded his head.Â
The three of you walked alongside, you at the very front. Bucky lagged behind, his mind still fuming with ways he could irritate you. He couldnât stand you even in the slightest bit. Sam noticed the extreme tension that brewed between you two and he sighed. âCan you two please be nice for today?â
âThat demon? Absolutely not.â Bucky snarled. You rolled your eyes.
âAt least Iâm not in therapy.âÂ
Bucky growled at that one. â(Y/N), thatâs harsh.â Sam snapped at you.
You shrugged your shoulders.Â
âDonât call me a demon again.âÂ
The three of you continued the walk silently, approaching the elevator shortly that would lead you to the lobby. As you pressed the call button, Sam sighed heavily. âGuys, I left my wallet back in the hotel. You guys go ahead, Iâll meet you in the lobby.â
âYouâre leaving me with her?â - âYouâre leaving me with him?â
You and Bucky said it in unison, both of you grumbling. Sam scoffed. âItâs five minutes max! You two really need to grow up.â He shook his head as he stalked off back to the room. The elevator doors opened and you crossed your arms over your chest.
âLadies first,â Bucky snapped.Â
âYou first, metal-boy.â
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