#plant!dad bucky
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Rooted in Love
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Plant!Dad Bucky and he's beefy!)
Word Count: 1,740
Summary: You and Bucky run into each other (literally) while plant shopping.
Author's Note: So a few days ago a friend shared the amazing art done by @nalonzooo and I immediately fell in love with her plant!dad bucky! Please go check out her page, it will just make you so happy! Her art was the inspo for this story and will be for the rest of this Universe- which I already plan to do more of! Thank you all so much for reading and thank you @nalonzooo for sharing your beautiful work! And thank you to my lovely friends @witchywithwhiskey @vonalyn and @biteofcherry for your support and help! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰
Warnings: Fluffy sweet fluff, plants and Alpine!
You hand the money to the cashier with a smile and gently cradle your new plant to your body before walking off toward the car. You’re not paying attention to where you’re going because you’re looking down and cooing over your new friend, a spider plant, whom you’ve aptly named Spidey.
Suddenly the sun goes out of view and a shadow falls over you just before you walk straight into what feels like a wall.
“Oof, shit,” you mutter, juggling your spider plant and thankfully managing to hold on to it. “I’m sorry!” you quickly add, now looking up.
You can barely see the person behind all the green leaves and fronds but you do hear a deep voice say, “no doll, I’m sorry! I can barely see where I’m going and should probably have gotten a cart. Are you ok?”
Your giggle escapes without warning but you assure him you’re fine.
“Um, do you want some help? I only have one plant so I can take one or two off your hands.”
He stands there for a moment, clearly contemplating you’re offer. “You know what, that would be great!” he says finally. “Can you grab the two smaller ones here.”
His body shifts so you can take two plants that are resting precariously on his forearm.
“Sure!”
You reach over and carefully take them from him, revealing something you were not at all expecting.
There’s a fluffy white cat curled up in the crook of his arm, it’s blue eyes peering at you with curiosity.
“Oh how cute!” you squeal.
Plant guy chuckles. “That’s Alpine. He’s very friendly so you can say hi if you want.”
Your hand immediately shoots out to rub Alpine gently on the head and then scratch behind his ears.
“He’s so sweet and handsome,” you gush.
After several moments spent doting on Alpine you realize poor plant guy is still standing there holding way too many plants.
“Oh shit,” you mumble. “I’m sorry! You’re totally standing here waiting to go to your car and carrying a whole forest and here I am just petting your cat like it’s nothing.”
“It’s really ok doll,” he says. “I appreciate the help and Alpine loves the attention.”
You try to peek around the large leaves to get a look at this guy’s face but you can’t really make out more than a black hat and the outline of a dark shadow of hair lining his sculpted jaw.
But when he says, “my car is just over here,” and he starts walking to the parking lot you get a better glimpse of the rest of him and can’t help the way your breath hitches.
“Damn…” you whisper to yourself.
He’s tall, with long thick legs and broad shoulders and an ass you already want to grab hold of.
“Well,” he starts. “My keys are in my back pocket and uh…”
You put the plants you’re holding down onto the pavement and hold out your hands. “Here give me a couple more this way you can free up a hand.”
“Good idea,” he says with a chuckle. “I was about to ask you to reach into my pocket but that wouldn’t be appropriate before at least a date right?”
You bite your lip to stifle your laugh, thinking that you wouldn’t have minded at all.
As you take three more plants from him you get a clear view of his face and you can’t help but stare.
Sparkling blue eyes meet yours, framed by long, dark lashes and as your gaze sweeps over the rest of his face you realize he’s literally gorgeous.
“Hi,” you say far too breathily.
“Hey doll,” he answers with a megawatt smile but seemingly oblivious to your obvious appreciation as he opens the trunk and starts to place the plants down.
As he’s lightening the load of foliage Alpine starts to crawl up his arm until he’s settled comfortably on his shoulder.
Once his hands are free he extends one to you. “I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.”
“Bucky,” you repeat, then give him your name. “How did you get that from James?”
He huffs out a laugh. “James Buchanan Barnes is my full name and my family shortened the middle and stuck with it.”
“That makes sense then,” you say lightly.
“Thanks again for the help. I’d probably still be wandering around the parking lot looking for my car if it weren’t for you,” he admits, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.
“Glad I could help,” you say, meaning it. “You must have a lot of space for all these.”
You sweep your arm out, motioning to his trunk full of plants.
“Yeah, well…I mean sorta. It’s kinda gettin’ like a Tetris game, but I’ll make it work.”
He looks down at your feet, just now noticing your plant.
“I see you got a spider plant,” he says. “New plant parent?”
You nod before starting to bend down and pick it up. He stops you with a soft hand to your shoulder. “I’ll get it and let me walk you to your car at least.”
He grabs the plant and you see Alpine cling tighter to his shirt and shoulder. A few strands of hair fall loose from his hat and around his ear and when he stands again Alpine starts batting at them.
You cover your mouth, hoping your giggle won’t be heard but Bucky narrows his eyes playfully before explaining, “this cat is a menace.”
“Does he behave around all your plants?” you ask. “I bet they’re fun to bat around.”
You start to walk toward your car which is on the other side of the parking lot, chatting as you go.
“Actually, he does. I rescued him when he was just a kitten and started collecting plants around the same time so he’s used to them and knows he’s not allowed to mess around.”
You reach up and give Alpine a soft pat, cooing at him before you continue.
“I really hope I don’t kill this one,” you sigh, now glancing over at Spidey. “I love plants but they don’t love me.”
“That was me too,” he tells you. “It actually took me two spider plants before I got the hang of it. I still feel bad about the first two.”
“This is my third,” you say quietly, making a face. “Third plant. Not spider plant specifically. But to be fair the first two were definitely not starter plants. I don’t know what I was thinking…well, I do. They were really pretty, with these beautiful flowers- I love flowers- and I wanted them so…”
“I get it doll,” he says, “we all like pretty things.”
He looks at you, holding your stare and when you smile knowingly you see the pink creep along his cheeks again.
“So how many plants do you have?” you ask with a smirk.
“Umm,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s see…I mean there’s the kitchen and that’s probably one, two, three, four…and then the living room…one, two, three, four, five…” he continues on, talking mostly to himself as he counts and lifts his left hand to finish.
You notice he’s wearing a leather glove and when he’s done getting his final count he looks from you to where your eyes are focused.
“So if I’m counting right that’s over twenty-five plants,” he says sheepishly. “And uh…old war injury.” He twinkles the fingers on his left hand at you with a lopsided smirk.
“A plant connoisseur and a war hero,” you say, hoping your tone comes off as genuine as you mean it. “And you have the best cat!”
He brightens at your words and tugs Alpine from his shoulder, cradling him in the crook of his arm. His tight Henley does nothing to hide the bulge of his bicep and the best you can do is try to focus on how cute the cat is so you don’t blurt out any of the lascivious thoughts racing through your mind.
“He is the best cat!” Bucky boasts.
Bucky leans closer to you, as if he’s telling you a deep, dark secret, his voice low. “I have this plant on my balcony that attracts a lot of butterflies and he’s so good that he won’t even try to swat at them. He just sits on my chair and watches them all afternoon! But never goes after one.”
“Best. Cat. Ever.” You proclaim, scratching under Alpine’s chin. “And I bet they are beautiful to watch.”
“If you love flowers you’d love the plants on my balcony!” he says excitedly. “It’s like a rainbow. And I have this indoor desert rose plant that’s just incredible and my gardenia’s not only look amazing but they smell amazing too.”
Your smile only grows as he continues chattering on about all his flowering plants but he must realize he’s been rambling because he suddenly trails off and his eyes get wide.
“Oh man,” he stammers. “Shit, doll. I’m sorry. That was a lot.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot.
“I don’t mind at all,” you tell him honestly. “I think it’s wonderful. Actually, I’m hoping you can give me some tips to keep Spidey alive.”
You pat the plant pot and then delicately rub one of the long, thin leaves.
“Spidey,” he says with a big smile. “I love that. And I name mine too.”
“Phew,” you say. “Thought I was going to be the weird one on that.”
“Tell you what,” he says. “I’d love to help you keep Spidey alive but only if you agree to meet me for coffee this weekend.”
You tap your finger to your chin, pretending to think it over. “What do you think Alpine?”
The cat blinks at you then meows loudly.
“He said you should,” Bucky interjects. “That was definitely a yes.”
“In that case, definitely a yes,” you say.
“That’s great doll!” Bucky replies with a grin. “How about Saturday?”
“Sounds perfect.”
After you exchange numbers and agree on a coffee shop between your two apartments you say goodbye.
“Thanks again for your help and I’m really looking forward to our coffee date,” he says, then clamps his mouth shut.
He stares at you with wide eyes again. “I uh…I didn’t mean date…what I meant was…”
“It’s ok,” you say softly, stepping closer and kissing his cheek. “I’m looking forward to our date too.”
@randomfandompenguin @book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @sebstanwhore @goldylions @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @lookiamtrying
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#beefy!bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#beefy bucky#plant!dad bucky#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#plant!dad bucky x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes au
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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 2)
Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader
Word Count: 3900+
A/N Note: You guys... Thank you for the overwhelming support on this series. You guys are the sweetest :) I've loved reading your series and promise I love them; just haven't had the chance to respond! Again, thank you for the love, as it's all turned back to you!
As for the chapter... Let's make it more fun (otherwise known as interesting) ;)
_________________
Bucky’s POV
Hidden bugs weren’t new business to us, so after disposing of the picture frame, they gifted us with a note saying, “For your new home, and your first picture in it! ;)”... It was an easy ‘accidental’ drop.
However, quickly after that, wouldn’t you know it? A new basket showed up on our porch with another set of welcome-to-the-neighborhood gifts from the whole neighborhood this time…
Y/N had ‘accidentally’ placed the newly potted plant, that they had somehow added a very impressively hidden camera on, too close to the edge of the entryway table, so when she came through the door quickly with her arms full of more boxes, the pot was no longer usable. Shame… We did buy our own pot for said plant, so we still got a new piece of greenery without the bugs.
After those two failed attempts, we hoped our show of clumsiness warded off the assholes and made us less intimidating. And yes, I use that word because I could read easily from our first meeting that they were sizing us up. Analyzing our act and manipulating themselves into our lives in a careful yet planned manner.
For extra measure on the clumsy showcase, Y/N drove into the trashcans I had forgotten to pull to the curb, making a public display of her character’s clumsiness. Though I later learned she was actually just pissed that I forgot to put them out and found a way for me to pay the consequences in our squabble on the lawn.
A squabble that started out a hundred percent authentic and then turned into a fake makeup season when the neighbors peaked their heads out.
“This jughead would forget his head if it weren’t on his shoulders,” Y/N slapped my chest before patting it harshly and smiling at the seventy-year-old next-door neighbor, Gertrude, who always happened to find her rose bushes interesting, only when people were outside.
She smiled and laughed at Y/N’s wide grin before waving her on as she snipped a few thorns.
“God, I hate it here,” Y/N said through her teeth, holding her fake smile as she walked past me into the house.
A few more preplanned acts happened while we were outside to show the community that our accidental breaking of their bugs was just that—accidental. It was not planned and discovered at all.
It had been two weeks so far, and we’d already been invited to a food truck social, a street parade for a family leaving the neighborhood, and an outdoor movie night. All events you would have thought had the same planning committee as the MET Gala with how thorough they were… At least, that's what Y/N said, and I choose to believe that it holds some form of significance.
Tonight, we went over to another couple's house that was high up in the HOA group for a neighborhood barbeque, one where Y/N’s damn lilac tennis dress she had worn to workout with a neighbor, made more than half the dads and men too old and married to be staring, struggle to keep their eyes off her.
I had told her that keeping a hand on her during most of the party was for the act, but genuinely, I didn’t care for how the men of the group gawked at her. Something gave me a bad feeling about it. And I didn’t understand why Y/N wasn’t phased at all or even slightly uneasy, considering she was just as trained as me to assess and sense all that attention.
As soon as we were behind closed doors back in our secure home, my first question was, “Did you really not feel their eyes on you?”
She was in the middle of taking off her shoes, talking about some information she had gotten from a group of stay-at-home wives, something related to our mission, but I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around how unphased she was with the unnerving type of attention she was getting there.
“What?” She paused as she bent to take off a tennis shoe.
“All those guys, the husbands, and pervs at the cookout. You didn’t notice them staring at you?” I asked again, rolling my sleeves of button-down I had on up to my elbow.
She stared at me for a moment and then rolled her eyes as if she had figured out where I was going with this. Spoiler: she was far off the mark.
“Listen, if you’re saying that thanks to this dress, which, yes, is a little short, but who the hell cares, is the reason why men were,” she straightened, kicking off both her shoes fluently, now only in socks. “Gawking at me, as you put it-.”
“I didn’t say that,” I straightened, furrowing my eyebrows.
“Oh, but you did,” she sassed with a shrug, continuing. “Under your breath when you came up, and you staked your claim by never taking your arm away from my waist for the night.”
“I didn’t say that,” I shook my head. I said it in my head, but I hadn’t said that out loud… Had I?
“Ugh, whether you did or didn’t, I could tell you were judging,” she huffed, rolled her shoulders, and walked past me to the kitchen, going straight to the fridge.
It took me a minute, but I figured out where her mind had gone. “I was judging them, Y/N,” I shook my head. “I was judging the horny, married, and dusty-ass men that couldn’t keep their damn tongue from falling to the floor with you in the vicinity. Like their wives had deprived them of any kind of physical touch for the last decade, and they couldn’t keep it in their pants any longer.”
I realized I may have explained more of my thought process than I intended, but she shut the fridge door she had hidden behind and turned to me, scanning, assessing.
“You were jealous.” The corner of her lip raised at her statement.
“What?” I scoffed. “No, loser,” I scoffed again, and clearly, I wasn’t selling my answer because she didn’t lose her growing grin. “I just took notice of how much attention you got, and it concerned me that the ideas most of those men were having were far from civil ones.”
She stared at me for a minute, and I felt uncomfortable in my own skin as she weighed her options regarding how she wanted to react. We still had plenty of fights, but they have been somewhat decreasing lately, and I was hoping we could keep that streak going.
Her assessing stopped, and her grin grew again. “Awe, the Tinman does have a heart.”
And she ruined it. Surprise, surprise.
“It’s sweet that you care, old man,” she twisted the lid to the drink she had pulled out of the fridge and took a swig before looking at me. “But that’s just a day in the life of a woman. Nothing new to me or anyone with the double X chromosomes.” She shrugged nonchalantly.
“I mean, obviously, people look at you,” I started, and she balanced her elbows on the counter before resting her chin on her fist. I continued before I realized my wording. “Before you-”
“Obviously?” She emphasized my word choice. “Keeping notes on an awful lot of things lately, huh, Buck?” she whispered my name like it was a secret, and I knew it was for the odd case someone could hear us, but something about her tone made my chest freeze. “Tell me, what else do you notice…?” She tilted her head one way as she stared at me.
I wasn’t going to lie and say her words didn’t flustered me, but as a reflex, I jumped back into the normal banter.
“You’re not funny, jackass,” I deadpanned and turned on my heel to walk away.
“Oh, stop being such a baby,” she shouted after me, and I heard her sock-clad feet slide on the hardwoods to catch up with me. “Listen, I think it’s nice you’re taking notice of stuff like this. Most men never pay attention to those kinds of things because they don’t have to. It’s not really a normal day-to-day experience for them, so they don’t get it. They don’t HAVE to get it.”
I stopped and turned in my march, and she slid into me from just two steps behind me. I caught her easily, bracing my hands on her biceps to steady her. She let out a huff of air as our chests flushed to each other and then looked up at me.
“You’re murder strut is too fast for me to keep up with,” she mumbled, scrunching her nose in a relaxed way.
I closed my eyes for a minute but didn’t let go of her before I channeled back my seriousness.
“I’ve learned men are assholes, trust me. In this field, we come across some of the worst misogynistic weasels to exist. Wear whatever you want. You have scary dog privileges now. The attire issue isn't what I was getting at,” I replied, thinking of the reference the Parker kid had explained to me recently.
Her smile was unlike any I had the pleasure to be on the receiving end of, and I immediately mentally captured it, worried that I’d never experience the genuineness she was sharing with me in this moment again.
“Scary dog privileges, huh? Someone’s been brushing up on their TikTok trends.” She laughed, scanning my face as I scanned hers. “Peter finally invested in his version of Duolingo? This one labeled new-age-slang-for-100-years-and-older?”
“Actually called, Born-in-1910’s-and-on-the-comeback-of-a-70-year-coma-new-age-lingo. Very helpful,” I retorted, and the surprise on her face as she laughed at me made my grip on her soften, my thumb unconsciously running over the bone on her wrist.
The action brought both of our eyes to the feeling, and in the next second, we had three feet between us.
“I’m going to go take a shower.” Her rush to get around me in the narrow hall caused her to brush along my arm, and it was like the sparks that ignited when I held her tried to reach out for each other again in the brief contact.
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” I grumbled, walking quickly in the opposite direction.
____________________
Y/N’s POV
The last two weeks have been frustrating, but somehow, Bucky and I have learned we work together surprisingly well. We still had our bickering fights and annoying quarrels, but stick us in a house for a few weeks, and we realized we did well at balancing each other out.
Where I hated doing the dishes, he made sure they were done every night. Where he hated doing laundry, I folded and sorted the linens and clothes. I hated cooking, and he somehow was really good at it. I loved to bake when we had free time, and he loved to taste test. I sucked at most things gardening-wise, and he had shown me how to prune overgrown flowers in our gardening bed. Bucky sucked at interior decorating, so I was in charge of making our fake abode look like a real one.
Overall, we do pretty well, considering we hate each other's guts. Ok, well… I don’t necessarily hate his guts, even if I act it. I just have a very low tolerance for his bullshit and don’t mask my frustrations when they hit their limits. As for being a fake wife to him where he has to treat me well… He’s been a picture-perfect husband from a suburban wife’s perspective.
The only thing we’ve successfully avoided that I was worried about is sharing the same bed.
After confirming with the higher-ups that our house was bug-free, we claimed our own rooms (me in the master, of course) and set up our own space. Keeping the facade of a happy married couple outside of those rooms and the house was easy, but I dreaded the day we would have to show more affection and closeness than what we already had.
So far, a kiss on the cheek, holding hands, a hug from behind, and a normal amount of PDA that showed we were in our honeymoon phase yet did not want to make others fully uncomfortable did the job enough. But after Bethanne commented about when we planned on having kids, I figured we might need to bump up our act since she gave a passive comment about us being ‘rather tamed for a newlywed couple.’
Before I could bring up the comment to Bucky once we got home, he seemed more bothered by the men at the party than anything.
I didn’t expect him to notice such a minute thing, but if there was one thing I had learned about Bucky these last few weeks, it’s that he’s very attentive to details I wouldn’t expect him to be on.
Then, to further my confusion about the situation, something seemed different in our intimate hallway space run-in, and both of us scurried away as if the touch of each other burned.
After my shower, I got dressed in my pajamas and heard the TV still on in the living room, where Bucky tended to station himself for a few hours before bed. Well, his bedtime. Another thing about us was that I wasn’t much of a night owl, but I did appreciate knowing someone was on alert while I slept. And even if he didn’t do it for that reason, I’m sure, I liked hearing the TV still on when I tended to wake up in the middle of the night. I felt safer…
“Hey,” I leaned against the wall coming into the living room and saw that he had Brooklyn Nine-Nine on with a computer sat in his lap.
He looked up and gave me a quick head nod before going back to the screen in front of him. “What’s up?”
“Just needed to fill you in on some of the things I learned at the cookout,” I let out a yawn as the day caught up with me and moved to the single chair across from him on the couch.
“Hit me,” he rolled his shoulders back, never looking away from the blue light.
“Don’t ask for things you don’t really want,” I teased, and he looked above the screen at me with a glance that seemed to be holding back a smile before rolling his eyes.
“What’d you learn?” he followed up with.
I went on to tell him about the neighborhood drama. All things that may or may not have any major plays to our mission, but information nonetheless.
“Did you ask any of them about work?” Bucky asked once I had covered most everything.
Our undercover jobs were simple. I worked from home as a data entry clerk. Something boring that Charolette Hunt has been hoping to get out of and find her passion. All this led to me asking around about job connections and if there was anything I could swap over to for a ‘more exciting work life,’ otherwise known as drug trafficking jobs if they were available.
As for Beau Hunt, Bucky’s cover, he was the owner of a transportation company. Considering how well he was doing, he took the last two weeks off to move into his first home with his new wife before having to get back into the work ethic he had been thriving in the last ten years.
All perfect pieces to get the answers and resources from our sketchy neighbors we came here for.
“I asked Katrina, one of the wives of a guy who works closely alongside Reggie. I figured that was a good seed to plant,” I answered, pulling my legs up to my chest and resting my chin on my knees as I watched Jake Peralta chase a bad guy down the streets of New York. I missed the homeland. “She said she’d ask around, which is what I needed. What about you? Any of the 'dusty-ass husbands' have fun details to share?”
“Nothing more than statistics of sports teams and rookie starters for the state college basketball team,” he sighed, and I turned over to see him staring at me before turning back to his computer quickly. “Reggie was giving me a hard time, though.”
“Oh yeah?” I hummed, angling myself to him. “Bethanne was giving me a hard time, too.”
“Think it’s related to the same thing?” Bucky chuckled, looking back at me, but whatever was in his eyes just seconds ago was gone now.
“Say on the count of three?” I smirked.
“One,” he nodded.
“Two.”
“Three.”
“When we’re going to consider joining parenthood,” Bucky said.
“When we’re having kids,” I said at the same time. “Almost a jinx if you didn’t word it so damn robotically. Did fucking Vision channel into your damn cyborg brain?” I laughed, and I heard a slight scoff from his direction before I rolled my head back and looked up at the ceiling. I stayed quiet until Bucky broke me out of my thoughts twenty seconds later.
“What are you thinking?” I heard the computer shut and then be placed on the cushion next to him. “I can hear the gears working past their limit.” His weak version of a retort.
I lulled my stare at him and deadpanned a bitchface at him. “You talking to yourself again?” He rolled his eyes at my comeback, and I decided to bypass the banter. “I think we need to step our game up. Ms. Bethanne thinks we’re ‘tamed’ for a newlywed couple. In other words, she thinks we’re prudes.”
“We’ve hit the PDA marks we need to,” Bucky stiffened just enough for a trained eye to see, but he tried to brush it off as getting comfortable in his spot.
“Hmm, so maybe one of us is a prude,” I shrugged, moving my legs under me and leaning on one side of the chair.
We hadn't kissed, although I would peck one on his cheek, and he would place one on top of my head. But that's as far as either of us had been willing to go.
I know our job may require us to go beyond that, and I was willing to keep it strictly professional even if necessary, but Bucky seemed to want to avoid it by all means. Message received.
“I’m not a prude. I just don’t understand why people have to be so touchy in public. It makes everyone uncomfortable,” he argued.
“Not everyone finds discomfort in those acts. A lot of people think it’s cute.”
“I’m not one of those fucking people.”
“Well, you better figure out pretty fucking quick how to become one of those people because this operation kinda depends on it.” I sighed, standing up and stretching. “Listen, I know you hate me and all, but if we’re going to get this done and over with, we need to-”
“I’ve never said I hate you,” Bucky interrupted. I looked down and saw him staring at me with stern eyes.
“Actions have convinced me otherwise.”
“The same could be said for you.”
“I don’t hate you,” I clarified after carefully studying him for lies.
It was an intense stare-off, but not one where I felt like I had to win it. One where I felt we were both taking a step into new territory, and neither of us knew what to expect.
Bucky’s burner phone rang right before I could follow up with my peace offering, and we saw it was the fake caller ID Steve was under. He picked it up and put it on speaker.
“What’s up, punk?” he answered, and Steve scoffed on the other end.
“Just your biweekly check-in. Anything interesting enough to make this phone call longer than 5 minutes?” he asked.
“Don’t think so,” Bucky sighed and filled him in on the steps we had taken to further the investigation. Planting our gossip seeds where necessary and waiting for the garden to grow.
The call ended with Steve informing Bucky that he ‘started back at work’ tomorrow and would need to go to a specific meeting spot for updates. A way for us to get news that couldn’t be tracked with phone calls and messages. And after two weeks of gathering information and only four check-ins in that time, things were meant to pick up now.
I had decided to head back to my room when a normal conversation between the two started up and strayed from the mission talk. Then, about 10 minutes later, Bucky was in my doorway as I got ready for bed.
“Sorry, Steve wanted to know if we had torn each other’s heads off yet. Nat and him have a bet going,” he said, leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms over his chest.
I shrugged, pulling the comforter back on the bed. “No need to apologize. And who’s winning?”
“Steve gave it 3 weeks, so he’s still in the running.”
“He’s being generous,” I laughed, fluffing a pillow before sitting on the edge and looking at him.
“I don’t know. I think we’ve managed to stay surprisingly civil given our relationship,” he smiled softly as if the conversation wasn’t dangerous grounds and could easily go one way or the other.
“Helps that we have to act for most of it,” I fiddled with my nails.
“Would you rather we didn’t get along?” he asked, and I could see the start of our normal frustration with each other trickle back into his tone.
I stared at him for a minute. Not sure what my goal was here, but it definitely had flipped from wanting to make every minute with him, his own personal hell.
“Fighting has become tiresome. I’m content tolerating the situation.” A bit of a hypocritical response, sounding robotic, but there was no lie behind it.
He stared at me like I had to him.
“Right. Tolerating,” he nodded with pursed lips, pushing off the door frame and walking down the hall to his room.
Something about his attitude made it hard for me to brush off the change in tension. I stood up and walked down the hall. When he was already in his room, I was taking up as much space as I could in his doorway now.
“What’s with the annoyance?” I asked, looking at him as he arranged some things on his nightstand. He turned around, body lax and almost defeated looking.
“I’m not annoyed. Why would I be annoyed with you ‘tolerating me’?” he said nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I don’t know, but you clearly are,” I gestured to him and crossed my arms. “Would you rather I treat you how I have before this? I mean, we can go back to-”
“Obviously not, Y/N,” he cut me off with a scoff, and I was shocked at the sheer anger that I would suggest such a thing. His use of obviously made my brain scramble as well… The second time, that word had messed with me tonight.
“You’re confusing as hell, Barnes,” I squinted my eyes at him and decided I wasn’t in the mood to handle a bipolar 100-year-old man tonight. Maybe it was best if I just called it a night.
Turning in my spot four steps away, I didn’t expect the hand around my bicep to stop me in the middle of the hall, leading to a pensive look on his face as he stared at me.
“What?” I furrowed my eyes at him and looked at the contact unwavering on my elbow.
“I—” he started and then stopped. An internal war played out with surprising clarity on his face. I raised my eyebrows and waited.
We stared for an hour—okay, nine seconds—but it’s all the same with that level of intensity.
“Never mind.” He dropped my arm and took a step back.
“Seriously?”
“I don’t want to start something.”
“There’s something to start?”
“No, but I’ll wait until you’re in a better mood to,” he debated on his wording. “Discuss it,” he settled on, turning on his heel.
“I’m not in a bad mood,” I huffed, and yeah… That didn’t help proving my point.
“Sure thing,” he shook his head before walking into his room, carrying on as if he hadn’t dropped a strange and confusing bomb on me that I now needed answers to.
“Goodnight to you, too,” I grumbled as I walked to my room and shut the door behind me.
Marvel Tags:
@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @livstilinski @basicallylool @starryeyeseunbyul
My Lovelies forever:
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Bucky Barnes Tags:
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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#justkending#marvel series#marvel#bucky barnes series#reader insert#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader insert#bucky barnes x avenger reader#bucky barnes mini series
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Ruinin’ the Game
a/n: I saw a writing prompt and this came to mind. who doesn’t want a cute lil drabble occasionally?
warnings: none
“Please!” You cry out, shielding your four year old daughter away in your arms. “There are children here!”
The boy in front of you laughs humorously.
“There were children in my hometown, too,” he says, raising his gun.
“You don’t have to do this,” you insist.
“I think I do.”
He pulls the trigger. You close your eyes, waiting for the bullets to hit you. They don’t.
Carefully, you open your eyes. Bucky has jumped in front of you, holding a pillow out in front of him.
The boy stomps his foot in frustration.
“Dad!” He complains.
“What?” Bucky laughs, dropping the pillow as your daughter, Becca, jumps into his arms. He catches her and lets out a grunt with the impact, but he immediately steadies her and grins.
“Daddy! You saved us!” Becca exclaims.
Bucky grins widely, planting a sloppy kiss onto Becca’s cheek and making her giggle. You move forward on your knees to meet your husband, grinning as you lean forward and plant a sweet kiss on his lips.
“My hero,” you say, punctuating your statement with another kiss.
Becca giggles at the PDA, but your son, Grant, gags.
“Mom! Dad! Stop. Gross,” he complains. “You’re ruinin’ the game!”
“How is a ‘thank you’ kiss from the pretty lady I saved ruining the game, kid?” Bucky raises an eyebrow, challenging his son.
“Because it’s gross.”
Bucky laughs, pulling your face closer again for another kiss. Grant groans.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#marvel x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader fluff#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky x y/n#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x female reader
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I'll be back
Winterwidow x daughter!reader
Summary: You miss Bucky when he leaves for a mission.
A/N: Sorry I haven't been posting! I've been really busy and had not motivation to write! Request is at the bottom <3
———
Bucky had found himself on another long gruelling mission. Another day he had to leave his wife Natasha and their baby daughter Y/N.
———
Bucky pressed a soft tender kiss to Natasha’s lips and a soft kiss to Y/N’s forehead. He always did this before he left for a mission. He always promised his return.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” Bucky said with a sweet smile playing on his lips. His hands were rubbing the soft hair of his baby daughter.
Bucky walked into the quinjet with Steve and Sam. He was already missing his two girls. He watched as the quinjet door shut and the figures of his wife and daughter disappeared out of sight.
Natasha sighed and adjusted the baby in her arms, kissing the top of your soft forehead. She turned around and walked back into the compound.
———
Days turned into nights and nights turned into days, you were getting more restless. You were uninterested in your toys, taking a nap or even eating your favourite food. It was clear that the absence of your dad was taking its toll.
“C’mon sweetheart you have to eat something!” Natasha said with a sigh and pleading eyes. She watched you push away your bowl of food and shake your head.
“No!” You said, a pout plastered onto your lips with an evident frown. “Daddy!” She heard a little huff escape your lips. You couldn’t fully comprehend why your daddy was away or where he went, all you knew was that you wanted him here.
“Daddy’s not here sweetheart. He’ll be back soon I promise!” Nat said with a sweet smile. She had been exhausted for days straight, the sleepless nights of staying up with you since you weren’t sleeping were catching up to her.
As soon as Natasha said that, the door to the elevator dinged signalling it opened. At first, Nat thought it was just one of the other Avengers coming into the kitchen but when she looked up she saw the all-familiar face of none other than her husband, Bucky.
“Daddy! Daddy!” you giggled and pointed to Bucky as he approached the two of you. His strong arms wrapped around you as he lifted you out of your high chair, planting a soft kiss on your forehead again as he did.
Soon a sense of relief and peace had settled back into the compound. Y/N returned to her normal routines, she was sleeping well, eating well and playing well, just like before. Bucky was back home safe and sound, with his family.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x daughter!reader#buckynat#daughter!reader#natasha romanoff#winterwidow x daughter!reader#winterwidow#bucky x daughter!reader#natasha romanoff x baby!reader#buckynat x daughter!reader#natasha romanoff x daughter!reader#bucky barnes x baby!reader
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She’s gone
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: The team lose their friend (I’m bad at summaries sorry)
Word count: 1,695
Warnings: Angst. Sad times. Swearing. Reader threatens to bite people. Children get thrown (fun) Death
Translation: мисс мисс плохой парень - miss, miss bad guy./ ты хочешь летать? - do you want to fly? (if translations are wrong please let me know, thank you)
Masterlist Series Masterlist
6 years ago.
Fury and Maria walked into the briefing room where everyone was waiting “I’m just going to get straight to the point, an organisation going by the name of The Reapers have threatened to blow up a hospital in Russia- yes Y/n?”
“Why?”
“I was just getting to that part”
“Okay you can proceed”
“Why thank you. Now as I was saying, they want their leader to be treated for- yes Y/n?”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“You know Birdie if you stop interrupting me you might find out” Smiling sarcastically towards her.
“That’s true, continue Mr Furry” Everyone chuckles at her nickname for him.
“Their leader has a heart defect, a British heart surgeon who is the best of the best is in Russia to help out - Y/n put your hand down - they want him to be treated, they’ve been flagged up by the FBI as a terrorist organisation so obviously they’re not getting any help. Now they’re threatening to blow said hospital up, now Y/n you can ask your question”
“Why don’t they just do it and just fuck up - language I know - by putting in a teeny tiny little bomb inside of his chest, wait until he leaves and then… BAM, he dead.” She slams her hand on to the table “Ow that hurt. But anyway why don’t they just do that instead of letting hundreds of innocent people die?”
“She’s got a point” Tony agrees.
“Thanks dad” Receiving a salute as a response.
“Where will we get this teeny tiny little bomb from?” Fury asks with his arms crossed.
“Me”. Saying it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “I’ve been working on it for awhile now and it’s great, my little baby is perfect if I do say so myself” She speaks with pride lacing her voice.
“It won’t work, the FBI wants them alive so they can be questioned”
“But why? And also why are we being involved if we can’t kill them?”
“I don’t know, it makes no sense to me either and the reason why you’re being involved is to be there when they do something-“
“Oh fantastic. So we just have to wait for them to do something bad and then we can kill them”
“The girl might have a point” A voice comes from the doorway.
“Ew I’m a woman”
“Sorry, the woman might have a point”
“And who are you?” Steve asks.
“I’m Special Agent Lloyd Johansson with the FBI Counter Terrorist Unit. As I was saying this gir-woman might be on to something. Okay let’s say we have a bomb placed in him how close by does he have to be in order for it to go off?”
“I can set it off from the comfort of my bed”
“If I give the go ahead on this Fury I want her to be a member of my Unit”
Everyone was ready to protest at Agent Lloyds comment but Y/n jumped in first
“Over my dead body! No. No fucking way will I work for the FBI. Nope. No. Fury I won’t do it! I’ll eat his face off if I have to!”
The whole room fell silent at her last words.
“Okay maybe I won’t eat his face, Jesus people it was a joke! But no Larry I won’t join your unit”
“Lloyd, my names Lloyd”
“Sorry Lawrence. But no means no, thanks for playing though”
Lloyd speaks directly to Fury “I like this one! Okay you’ve got the go ahead to plant this bomb but I will be joining you guys”
“Suit up we leave in 20 minutes” Fury says as he leaves the room.
On the quinjet 15 minutes later Fury’s telling everyone their part. Y/n was sat down and was getting her headphones out when Lloyd sits down next to her.
“Hey”
“Hi?”
“What’s your name again?”
“Natwanda”
“No it’s not” He chuckles.
“Why ask me when you already know the answer?”
“Why does Fury call you Birdie?” Lloyd asks changing the subject.
“Because I have a bird tattoo”
“Why a bird?”
“It’s free. Just like me”
“Cool so are you datin-“
“Yeah, see the guy with the metal arm who’s giving you dirty looks. Him. And he’ll break you like a pretzel”. She gets up and moves closer to Bucky.
“Like a pretzel?” Bucky chuckles.
“Yep, hey you wanna listen to some music with me?” Already handing him one of the buds.
“It’s not going to be Black Sabbath again will it?”
“Bee Gees?”
“That’s fine”
“Don’t wanna hurt your precious old man ears now do we?”
“What was that?”
“Nothing”
Touching down near the hospital, the team moved into place.
“Buck something’s not right about this…”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, something’s off”
And just as she said that all that was heard was gunshots and screams.
“Everyone move in!”
Gunfire and chaos erupted from all around as Y/n approached alongside with Bucky who was followed closely by Steve and Nat.
“Get down” Steve orders a split second before he throws his shield. “Y/n go left, Bucky go right, Nat you stick with me”
“Ay Ay Captain” Y/n salutes as she takes the left corridor.
There was way more of The Reapers than they had originally thought. As her gun gets jammed she throws it to the ground and releases her claws, trying to push The Reapers back and help getting people out as much as she could.
She had just cleared the 7th or 8th room when she heard Thor’s deep voice from the other end, as she turned to face him a huge explosion hit from her end of the corridor.
She could hear Bucky’s and Thor’s screams coming from her comms though she was to disoriented from the blast she managed to mumble out “I’m okay. I’m okay Buck I promise”.
Hearing her voice come through his comms and hearing her repeat she’s okay calmed him down. He was busy helping doctors move patient after patient out of harms way when the whole building shook. His heart jumped to his throat as he realised the explosion came from her end of the hospital.
Slowly the gunfire ceased, they all met up at the checkpoint they had agreed to. As soon as Bucky sees her he pulls her to him for a hug, checking over for injuries straight after.
“We still have kids on this side of the building we need to get out” Nat says.
“We’ll get them don’t worry. Y/n are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Someone best have a donut ready for me soon or I’m gonna start biting people”
“You and your donuts kid. C’mon let’s get to work” Tony chuckles.
A little girl no older than 8 grabbed Y/n’s attention by pulling on her arm “мисс, мисс плохой парень” pointing over to a man who had a gun pointed at Thor.
“ты хочешь летать?” She asked the little girl who just smiled and nodded, “Bucky! Catch” just as he turns around, he sees a little girl being thrown towards him.
Running towards Thor a gun is shot. Then another.
“Y/n? Y/n are you hit?” Thor panics.
“Yeah but I’ll live, he won’t though”.
“You…you took a bullet for me? What were you thinking?”
“Of course I did, and I’ll happily do it again. And Thor my love, you should know me well enough by now, I don’t think, haven’t got a brain inside my skull” Chuckling as she walks off.
“Lady Y/n you need to ge-“
“Thor I’m fine, I promise”
Going back to where she was originally at before she continued to help passing the kids in to Bucky’s waiting arms. All that was left on that side of the building was Y/n, Thor and 5 more children.
“Thor jump down next to Buck, and I’ll throw these kids at you two”
“What’s with you and throwing kids?” Bucky asked.
“It’s fun, no honestly it is and they love it. Well that little girl did anyway, come on Thor I haven’t got all day”
Thor listens to her, jumping down to stand by Bucky they both wait for these poor little children to be thrown at them. Just as she has the second to last one, a boy who looked up at her with wide brown eyes, she smiled and whispered “It’s okay”.
Holding the little boy in her arms she heard the sound of the building shifting “That’s not good” she whispered mainly to herself. “Thor! Catch!”. As soon as the child is free from her fingers the building starts to collapse.
“Y/n get out of there!” Screamed Steve.
But she couldn’t. There was another child, and there was no way on earth she would have left it behind. So she scrambled to get her, pulling the crying and terrified child into her arms she shouts over the deafening noise of bricks falling “Bucky!” As quickly as he could he hands the child over to an agent, just as they all hear one final gunshot.
Turning towards Y/n he sees her standing there with wide eyes, her mouth open and closes as she gasped for air. His blue eyes already filling with tears trail downwards until they land on the crimson circular splatter on her chest.
No one could move. Everyone was frozen.
The building came tumbling down.
“No! No! Y/n! Y/n! Baby answer me!” Bucky screamed “No no no no no” He kept repeating.
Thor gripped onto the super soldier as they both fell to their knees, holding his friend tightly in his arms as the soldier lets out gut-wrenching sobs that tore through his chest, screams echoing the now quiet street.
Fury drops to his knees, his trembling hands cover his head. Trying his hardest to make himself smaller.
The Avengers fall to their knees one by one with tears streaming down their cheeks. Their bodies each shook with an onslaught of sobs and tears.
Each agent of SHIELD followed suit.
Lloyd walks off and once he’s around the corner he raised both hands and says “Hail Hydra” before falling to the ground, foam pouring from his mouth.
Next>
~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~
#marvel#bucky barnes#bucky barns x y/n#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#marvel fic#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#Asset#Bucky Barnes Asset series#avengers x fem!reader#avengers x y/n#avengers x reader#bucky and reader#bucky angst#Bucky Barnes angst#bucky barnes series#bucky fic
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Pairing: DBF!Bucky x college!reader
Word Count: over 3K
Summary: You were hoping to sneak away after being at your fathers for a summer party, but Bucky has other ideas.
Warnings: Smut 18+ ONLY, oral (f receiving), fingering, edging, p in v sex, Bucky is a menace in this okay?
Part 1 || Bucky Masterlist || Masterpost
The sound of the party going on outside grew muffled as you shut the window to your old room.
Taking a deep breath, you sighed and let your shoulders drop into a slouch before you kicked off your heels, humming to yourself once your feet were finally flat on the floor again.
"Your bedroom is adorable."
You spun on your heel with a gasp, spotting Bucky in the doorway, eyeing your old room as he walked toward you and suddenly you wished you could hide all of the posters on the walls and the stuffed animals on the window seat.
Your father had invited the two of you to one of his summer parties, offering you to stay with him for the weekend since you don't see him much anymore. You'd come up for a break from putting on a charade in front of your father - acting like you didn't let his best friend rail you in the back of a car just a couple weeks ago.
You didn't expect Bucky to follow you.
"What are you doing up here?"
"I wanted a minute alone with you," He said, stepping toward you, "And I think I'm owed my prize."
The bet. He was playing poker with your dad and their friends and you'd made a bet with him. You'd texted him that if he won, he won you. And though there was a growing pool of slick in your panties from him just standing there, you couldn't do that here - you had to be smart about whatever this was.
You couldn't let your dad catch you.
You took a breath to steady yourself as he began to crowd you. The woodsy pine and bergamot of his cologne took over your senses, making you think of that night in his car with your back against the door. The same scents had filled the car, drowning you in him as he gave you one of the best orgasms of your life.
His hands reached out, brushing up the skin of your arms until they rested over your collar bones. You did your best to ignore the way your body reacted to his touch so easily, the way your core clenched around nothing at just the feel of his hands on your neck.
God you were addicted.
"Think about where we are," You said, shifting your weight, waving your hand to the window where, if either of you were to step any closer, everyone - including your father - in the backyard would see you.
"And?" He asked, sliding his hands from your neck down to your hips, gripping your sides and trying to pull you closer.
You did your best to hold your ground, planting your feet firmly under you. He sat on the edge of the bed when he realized you weren't giving in and looked up at you, confused.
"Bucky," You tried to pry his hands off your hips, though all he did was tighten his hold, "Bucky we can't."
"Why not?" He tugged you again, a little rougher this time, making your feet stumble towards him as you caught yourself on his shoulders.
"Because it's wrong," You whispered. You could feel your resolve slipping through your fingers like water. If you didn't stop this now, you weren't going to be able to later. It wasn't that you didn't want to, you just didn't want to get caught.
He nosed at the side of your neck, under your jaw before his breath fanned against you, "That's what makes it so much better."
You did your best to ignore the flame his teasing ignited in your core, weakly pushing his shoulders. "But not here."
"It's okay," He said into your skin, pulling you to sit over his thigh as he pushed it up to rub against your covered clit. "I already locked the door."
"What if they come looking for you?" You asked, biting the edge of your lip to keep the whine from escaping your throat as he rolled your hips over his thigh, the fabric of your dress sprawled over you both like a blanket.
"I told them I was headed to bed," He said, "Remember? I'm spending the night here, too."
How could you forget? When your father had told you about the arrangement, your brain had short circuited right there in the kitchen and it was a miracle you were able to come across as normal in your acknowledgement. You knew the two of you wouldn't be able to keep your hands to yourself, and you'd hoped that Bucky had gotten a hotel so maybe you could sneak off.
"What if he comes looking for me?" You asked, your voice thin as you whined at the pressure his thigh was giving you.
"He won't," His teeth grazed against your collar bone as he rocked your hips over his denim covered thigh, his hands moving down to hold the backs of your legs before they moved up under the fabric of your dress, his fingers digging into your ass before they tugged on the fabric of your panties.
"Let me have these," He muttered into your neck before pulling back to look at you.
"We shouldn't," You weakly argued and the look in his eyes was the only warning you got.
It was a blur when he suddenly stood, flipping you around to land on your back on the bed.
"You made a bet with me," He spoke into your calf as he planted kisses along your leg before he grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed, "I take bets very seriously."
He helped you sit up so he could reach around the back of your dress to unzip it, pulling it up and over your head before tossing it to the ground. He froze at the sight of you, eyes scanning over your body as he took in the matching red lingerie set that hugged you perfectly. Bucky lightly ran his hand over you, up your leg, your stomach, your chest - up to the front of your neck where he tightened his grip just under your jaw, soaking your panties even more.
"Who were you wearing this for, hm?" He asked, lightly pushing you back down.
You wore it for him, and he knew it, he just wanted to hear you say it. But you wanted to know what would happen if you could make him a little jealous. Rile him up a little bit. "That's none of your business, Bucky."
"It is now," He shucked off his button up shirt before undoing his belt, tossing them both to the ground before he kneeled on the bed at your feet, pushing your knees open. "Tell me."
You swallowed at the commanding tone in his voice and you couldn't help but be glad he hadn't rid you of your panties yet so he couldn't see you clenching around nothing. You kept your lips sealed as you stared up at him through your lashes, knowing he wasn't going to let the topic go.
"C'mon, honey," He drawled, his voice sweetening to get what he wanted from you. You let out a deep breath as you held your ground, watching the sweetness turn sickly in his eyes as he smirked at you.
"Not gonna tell?" He asked, knowing his answer as he reached forward and gripped your thighs. "You sure about that?"
You tipped your nose up at him, doing your best to ignore the warmth from his hands on your skin as he moved up your hips and grabbed the edges of your panties before pulling them down. He shoved your knees further apart as he got down, laying on his stomach in the little room that was left of the twin mattress.
"Last chance, sweetheart," His husky voice sends a shiver through you as he breathes over your folds. "Or you don't get to cum. Which is a shame cause you look so good when you do." You narrowed your eyes at him, brows scrunching at his smirk.
"You wouldn't." He didn't respond, he just continued to stare, waiting for an answer to his question. You held his gaze, testing him - daring him to follow through with it.
Without warning, his tongue swiped out at your clit before flattening and running slow over your folds, pulling a gasp from you as you wiggled in his hold. Closing his lips around your bundle of nerves, he groaned into you, the vibrations sending a jolt through your body, a moan bubbling up through your chest that you had to bite your lips to hold in.
"You want to test that theory?" He asked, eyeing you from his spot between your legs. You took a deep breath through your nose and pursed your lips, keeping your silence and he smirked before diving back in.
A whine pushed past your lips as you tried to keep it together, his tongue working through your folds as if he was a starved man. The feeling of his fingers pushing through your entrance had you groaning as you threw your head back.
It wasn't long before he had you at the edge, trying to grind down against his face or get his fingers deeper to push you over when he pulled his mouth off and removed his fingers.
You huffed, pulling your head up and glaring at him.
"Are you ready to tell me who you wore this for? Hm?" he asked, reaching up to tug on the bra that matched your discarded panties, trailing your arousal along your skin as he slid his hand back down your side.
You thought about it for a second. Sure, you could tell him and get the orgasm your body was craving now, or you could hold out a little longer, making that orgasm feel ten times better once you finally got it. So, you tipped your chin up, staring at him down the slope of your nose and he smirked.
"Have it your way," He muttered, "Let's see how long you last."
~
"Fuck, Bucky please," You writhed under him, his arms holding your hips down so you couldn't get follow him as he pulled his mouth away again. You still hadn't told him what he wanted, and this was the fifth time he'd edged you, bringing you so close only to back up and watch as the frustration grew in your eyes.
"Answer the question, honey," He licked a stripe up your slit, "and I'll give you whatever you want."
"Fine," You huffed, propping yourself up on your elbows, "I wore it for you okay? I just thought we'd be able to sneak off somewhere not in the house."
He smirked up at you again, "Well that's just too bad isn't it?" He asked, "We didn't make it very far."
"I don't care, just please let me cum," You almost sobbed. You were fighting back frustrated tears and he cooed at you, reaching up to cup your cheek and pull on your bottom lip with his thumb.
"Tell me what you want," He ordered, holding incredibly still as he waited.
"Fuck me," You said probably too quickly but you didn't care, "Please, Bucky."
He crawled his way up your body and your hands shot out to his belt, undoing it and working the zipper as fast as you could. He chuckled into your neck before helping you out, getting rid of his pants and boxers in one motion before settling in between your legs, the underside of his cock resting against your slick folds.
"Ah, fuck," He sighed as he leaned back, gathering your slick and covering his shaft in it before lining himself up with your entrance. He pushed forward, sliding in with ease considering how worked up you were. He shuddered before grabbing your hips, pulling them up and sliding his knees under, propping you up and making his cock brush against that spongy spot.
He started rocking slowly, chuckling at your soft whine, your hands reaching for him, to try and pull him closer, to get him to go faster, something. But he caught your hands, holding them together with his left against your stomach, pushing against the slight bulge as he thrusted deep, earning a sharp gasp from you that ended in a moan.
The sound of the back door opening cut off your moan and your eyes shot open, your head lifting off the bed.
"Bucky, wait," You choked out, trying not to let a moan slip as he kept thrusting into you, "We can't get cau - " His free hand reached forward, planting his hand over your mouth.
"We won't," He growled down at you and you couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach the rumble of his voice caused. "As long as you stay quiet."
He moved his fingers to prod at your lips, "Open." He demanded and you couldn't stop your jaw from moving on its own, letting his middle and ring finger push in, resting on your tongue and flooding your taste buds with your own arousal.
You whined around his fingers as he rocked his hips into yours. He was listening to the laughter from downstairs, the clinking of glasses and beer bottles opening as he watched you. You were breathing deep through your nose, trying to hold yourself together as he still refused to stop his hips.
"God," he whispered, "you feel so fucking good."
After slowly dragging himself almost all the way out, he slammed into you, pressing his fingers down on your tongue as you choked back a moan. When he realized there was no squeak to your bed, he smirked down at you. That was the only warning you got before he set a brutal pace, leaning over you as his hips slammed into yours.
You moaned around his fingers again, holding back as much as you could as he kept hitting that spot over and over.
"Fuck, you take me so well. You were made for me, weren't you?" He asked and you nodded, humming around his fingers as he smirked down at you. He let your hands go, pushing your legs towards your chest without stopping his hips movements, the new angle making your eyes roll back.
"Don't you dare cum yet," He growled down at you as he pressed on your tongue again. "Not until I say so."
You did your best to nod, mumbling around his fingers as your hands reached under you to grab his thighs, raking your nails across what skin you could reach.
"Oh look at you," He grunted, "Always so pretty when you're stuffed, aren't you?"
All you could do was nod dumbly back, the only thing on your mind being fighting that orgasm until he gave you permission. You entirely missed the back door opening and closing again, followed by the silence downstairs and the voices outside.
The party had moved back outside.
You missed it, but Bucky didn't.
Once he was sure there wasn't anyone downstairs, he pulled his fingers from your mouth, moving them to circle your clit.
"Go on sweetheart," He moaned, "Let me hear you."
You shook your head as you bit your lip. He chuckled at you, "Don't worry, everyone's outside." He applied more pressure with his circling fingers, "But it's only a matter of time before they come back in, so let me hear you. Cum for me, sweetheart."
The tension in your belly snapped and your cunt clenched around him pulling a groan from his chest as he watched you throw your head back with a shout.
"There you go," He continued with his brutal pace and you could've sworn you could feel him in your chest, each thrust forcing the air out of your lungs before you got a chance to take a breath.
"Give me one more," He let your legs go, grabbing your hips and pulling you into him. With the angle change and the heavy hand he pressed onto your stomach, you felt yourself tumbling towards the edge again. "C'mon, give me another one."
You shook your head, "I can't - oh fuck - "
"Yes you can, you can take it, c'mon," He grunted out, "Be a good girl and give me another one."
Your orgasm washed over you again, white flooding your vision as your body tensed under his. One of his hands covered your mouth just in time, your scream vibrating against his palm. He slammed into you just a few more times, reveling in the feeling of your walls fluttering around him before he pulled out, finishing over your stomach.
Your legs were like jello when he finally moved them back down to the bed before he got up and started searching the floor. He eventually showed up next to you again, gently brushing a hand across your face.
"What do you want me to use to clean you up?" He asked, his voice soft as he caressed your skin.
You pointed to where your towels would be and it was only a matter of seconds before he was back wiping his mess off you. He pulled the blanket out from under you, placing it over your sweat slicked body and getting dressed again.
"I'll see you in the morning," He whispered, throwing a wink your way.
You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand and ask him to stay. But then you remembered where you were, and who you were.
You couldn't do that, not in your fathers house. So, as much as you hated watching him walk out your door, you didn't stop him. You listened to his footsteps as he retreated down the hall to the guest room, the door shutting, and the guest bathroom shower turning on.
You turned over in bed, ignoring the dull ache in between your legs and the want in your chest, the want to follow him. The need to have his hands on you again even though he just left.
You wrapped your arms around one of your pillows, pulling it to your chest as you buried your face in your sheets, trying to drown yourself in his smell before it went away.
Your dads muffled laughter from outside made your heart sink.
What were you going to do?
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do you know any bucky stories with alpine in them.!
Alpine
masterlist | req masterlist
WE NEED ALPINE ON THE MCU
Love In Four Acts by @buckybarnesowl
You’re a nurse living in Brooklyn. You’ve got a crush on your next door neighbour who doesn’t seem to know you exist. One day his cat finds its way into your apartment, forcing you both to finally meet. That’s when you learn that he’s James Buchanan Barnes, ex-Winter Soldier. Well, there goes your chances. Or maybe getting close to a superhero isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds.
That Darn Cat by @lillywillow
When a white cat enters your life, she decides to adopt you as her secondary human.
Cat Dad of the Year by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
Bucky comes home from a mission, only to be greeted by Alpine. But chaos ensues when he lets her rub her little face all over his dirty boots.
Fur Baby by @buckyalpine
Bucky has a furry little secret.
Not A Fan by @buckyalpine
Alpine is not a fan.
Completely by @rassvetsky
Being one of the few people Bucky Barnes trusted meant having to babysit Alpine when he's away. Luckily for you, Alpine was one hell of a listener and you were sure she got that from her dad.
Bittersweet by @rassvetsky
When it's just you, Bucky & Alpine in the Barnes residence; time seems to stop, only allowing for heartfelt confessions and kisses to be exchanged.
Meditation by @myfirstnameisagent
Bucky, Alpine & You by @marvelettesassemblenow
You didn’t realize that getting in a relationship with Bucky meant getting in one with his cat too.
Alpine by @coffeecatsandcandles
Bucky rescues a stray cat and brings her home.
You’re My Bucky by @subwaysurf45
after a breakdown, Bucky finally asks a question that’s been eating away at him for months.
Love has Four Paws and a Heartbeat by @rookthorne
A shame, really, that he had thought that you had listened, and you wouldn’t make a big deal of it; he was so wrong, and he would be better off for being so, for when a paw touched your heart, it would never leave.
The Matchmaker by @buckysknifecollection
Alpine hates every single date Bucky brings home. He likes you though...
Alpine for You by @tuiccim
Bucky was on a mission. Not for the Avengers or Steve, but to find you the perfect kitten.
Headcanon by @angrythingstarlight
Chubby Bucky and Alpine.
Cat-Napped by @holylulusworld
A cat cat-naps your rat.
meet-cute by @dirtychocolatechai
Bucky and vet!reader.
Little Kitten by @phantomspiderr
Bucky comes home to an adorable surprise
upstairs by @onceuponastory
Bucky Barnes is constantly annoyed by his cat Alpine going to visit his upstairs neighbour for treats. That is however, until Bucky meets his new upstairs neighbour Y/N. Who Bucky definitely isn’t in love with. Not at all. Turns out that a 106 year old man might know more about love than he first thought. And that cats can make excellent wingmen.
navillera by @sgt-seabass
Bucky returns home after a mission, ready to spend time with his two favourite people, you and Alpine.
Cat Dad by @plussizefantasia
Your boyfriend is being held captive and you're the only one who can save him.
the white cat by @lizzie-is-here
a late night stop at the animal shelter, a truck, and a dinner date
Alpine by @eviesaurusrex
YN walks into their kitchen, ready to start baking Bucky’s favorite cupcakes, only for a white little intruder to thwart her plan.
Rooted In Love | Love In Bloom by @jobean12-blog
You and Bucky run into each other (literally) while plant shopping.
#bucky barnes fic rec#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes series#winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes fluff#alpine#bucky barnes oneshot#chubby!bucky
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Heavenly creature - Unbreakable Bonds (6)
Summary: A stranger saves you from an unfriendly encounter. Is he a knight in shiny armor?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Princess Shuri
Warnings: heavy angst, language, hurt & comfort, clingy/possessive reader, fluff, dad!Steve
A/N: I usually do not describe my reader’s appearance/race. In this case I had to make an exception as it’s important for the storyline.
Divider by @firefly-graphics
<< Part 5
Heavenly Creature masterlist
“Soldier, are we done for today?” You hopefully look at Bucky when he walks inside the examination room. Your face falls seeing Steve by his side. “Please?”
“We are almost done for today,” Steve softly says. “Our friend will run a few more tests, okay.”
You reluctantly nod.
“They mean no harm,” Bucky adds. You visibly relax at his words. “How about we have lunch together? All of us.” He holds out his hand and forces a smile on his face.
“Yes,” you grab his hand and smile widely. “Can we have dessert too? I miss ice cream. I haven’t had some in ages.”
“Why?” Steve asks. “Ice cream is great.”
“They said it’s bad and…” You suck in a breath. The words just slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Sugar is bad…feelings too…”
“Doll,” Bucky wraps his arms around you when you start to cry. “Hey, you can eat as much ice cream as you want to.”
“What if I can’t heal you because I ate sugar? What if you die?” You fist Bucky’s shirt. “I can’t risk losing you. It will be all my fault if you can’t be healed.”
Steve chokes out a sob. He witnessed Hydra’s cruelty more than once. But your broken voice telling them all the things Hydra planted in your young mind when you were a child, is unbearable to him.
“They won’t know, Y/N,” Steve tries once again to get your attention. “Bucky is healthy and strong. If he gets hurt, we can help him at the medic bay. We have doctors, and I can donate blood for him too. I’m a super-soldier, remember?”
“You can?” You lift your head and sniffle. “Is your blood as good as mine? Maybe it’s not as good…”
“Y/N, I’m your father. We share the same blood,” Steve holds back another sob when you reluctantly let go of Bucky to step toward him. “I’m a universal donor too.”
“Oh!” Your smile widens and you grasp Steve’s hand. “You can save my soldier too! Wonderful!”
Steve holds back a sigh. Your whole world seems to revolve around his friend. Since they broke the barrier you built in your mind to protect yourself from remembering your past, you lost interest in anything but Bucky.
“We should eat now,” Steve murmurs, afraid to scare you off if he speaks any louder. “What do you like?”
“Pasta and ice cream,” you dreamily say. “Maybe we can have chocolate too, and pudding. I love pudding.”
“Hmm…tastes great,” you shovel the pasta in your mouth, ignoring people staring at you and the super-soldiers at your table. “What?” You cock a brow. “It’s good.”
“You should slow down,” Steve whispers, afraid to draw too much attention toward your table. “There is more than enough.”
“It’s delicious and I don’t want you to steal my food,” you pout at Steve before you look at Bucky. “Why don’t you eat, soldier? You need food to stay strong and healthy.”
“I’m good,” Bucky barely touched the food in front of him. On your way to the restaurant, you talked non-stop about your past, and all the things your so-called parents forbid you. Like playing with your dolls or spending time with other kids.
You nod but worry Bucky might be sick. “Are you sick? Do you need me to help you?” You slip off the chair to press the back of your hand to Bucky’s forehead. “No temperature. That’s good. You’re not having a fever then.”
“Y/N,” Steve gets up from his chair to stop you from examining Bucky. “Please eat your food. Bucky is not sick. You need the food more than him.”
“Okay.”
Steve pulls the chair for you, nodding at his friend. “You need to eat something too, Buck. We don’t want Y/N to worry about you. Give her what she needs…”
“I’ll eat, doll,” Bucky lifts the spoon to his mouth. “See. No reason to worry about me all the time.”
You shyly glance at your plate. There is chaos in your mind. A part of you wants to be close to Bucky, and make sure he’s safe. And the little part that’s left of the shy librarian is screaming bloody murder and begs you to run for the hills if you get the chance to do so.
So far, you don’t know which part of your personality will win the war going on inside of you. You’d love it to be the part wanting to be close to Bucky. Because without him, who are you?
Steve shows you around the apartment they prepared at the Avengers’ tower for you. You follow him, barely sparing the furniture and decoration a glance.
“We got most of your things, some books too. If you need anything else, please let me know,” he hopefully looks at you, waiting for your response.
“That’s very kind of you, and Mr. Stark but—” you chew on your lower lip, afraid to anger the super-soldier. “Can I not stay with my soldier?”
“Y/N,” he sighs. “I know something tells you that you must stay close to Bucky, but it’s best if you stay here for a while. You need to time on your own, and to sort your thoughts.”
“I want—” you shake your head. “I need to stay close. Please don’t leave me here all alone with my thoughts. Please.” You grab Steve’s hand, tugging hard. “Please Dad…don’t leave me alone with them…”
“With whom?” he softly asks. “Y/N?”
“The ghosts of my past,” you whimper. “I can hear them in my head now. Mom. Dad. My aunt. The doctors. The men with the guns,” you sniffle. “They are screaming at me. If I’m close to the soldier, they are gone.”
“Oh, Y/N,” Steve wraps you in a hug. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Bucky hates himself for kidnapping and hurting you. He blames himself for forcing you to remember your past.”
“I hated my life before the soldier found me again. Nightmares and flashbacks aren’t new to me. I just didn’t know why the voices followed me around. At least now I know that I’m not crazy.
“If you want me to, I’ll ask Bucky if it’s okay that you stay with him for tonight.”
“Please.”
Steve wishes you’d seek his closeness. You’re a grown woman, still, Steve feels like he’s holding a newborn child in his arms. Not days ago, he believed he’d never get the chance to become a father, and now he’s holding his child in his arms.
“We will ask him together. Okay. Don’t worry. Bucky is a good man and will not send you away. Get a few things and I’ll be waiting outside for you.”
Steve steps away to leave the room. He’s still torn between protecting you from his best friend and being happy that you trust Bucky enough to feel safe close to him.
“You’d have been a much better dad,” you murmur as Steve grabs the door handle. “Now I know why they never told me about you.”
“I wish I knew about you, Y/N. I’d have come to your aid and saved you and Bucky.”
“I know.”
“No programming and no manipulation?” Tony huffs. “That’s impossible. It’s like she’s programmed to follow Barnes like a puppy.”
Shuri shakes her head. “You don’t understand. In a way, she got manipulated by Hydra. But – the part of Y/N seeking White Wolf’s closeness is the part that remembers his kindness in times of need. I talked to her for hours and ran all the tests. It’s her, nothing more and nothing less.”
“I don’t—” Tony shakes his head. “How’s that possible?”
“Her vulnerable soul and broken mind tried to find a way to bear all the pain and treatment. Somehow, a bond between these tortured souls formed so many years ago. And I think it’s unbreakable…”
“Sold-“ you stop yourself from pouncing on Bucky. You nervously shuffle from one foot to the other, waiting for Bucky to tell you to get closer. “Bucky.”
“Hi,” Bucky offers a weak smile. “How are you?”
“I…” Dropping your gaze you shrug. “I don’t know, to be honest. I remember everything now. Hydra. You. My parents, who weren’t my parents. My time as a librarian. The soldier protecting me.”
“I remember you now too,” he slowly steps closer and holds out his hand. “Back then I made a promise to you. Do you remember?”
“Yes,” you nod and smile. “You said that no one will ever hurt me again. That you’ll save me and get me away from the bad people.”
“I will keep that promise from now on. I failed you in the past,” he takes your hand to gently hold it, “I won’t fail this time...”
The End...?
Tags in reblog.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#angst#Heavenly creature - Unbreakable Bonds (6)#bucky barnes x female reader#steve rogers#dad!steve rogers
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Love in Bloom
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Plant!Dad!Bucky)
Word Count: 2,863
Summary: You and Bucky have the best coffee date then meet up at the Farmer's Market. Every minute you spend with him makes you fall harder.
Author's Note: More plant!dad!bucky for you! I'm so excited that you all liked meeting him so much! I'm having a lot of fun with him! You can read the first story HERE! And please check out @nalonzooo art to see how amazing it is! 😍Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
PS If you'd like to see the shirt Bucky is wearing you can HERE and the two plant pots, ONE and TWO. 🥰💕
Warnings: plant talk, Alpine fluffs, sweet and soft fluffs all around :)
You and Bucky have been texting every day since you met at the garden center, silly plant memes and pictures of Alpine filling up the lines between sweet words and soft flirting.
You couldn’t wait to see him for coffee today.
The bell above the door dings as you enter and your eyes search for him. He’s standing at the counter, a large black backpack slung over his shoulders and a bouquet of flowers in one hand. He’s not wearing his hat today and his long hair is pulled back into a low bun with several strands sticking out.
When he spots you he smiles wide and waves you over.
“Hiya doll,” he says when you get close. “You look beautiful.”
You preen under his sweet words and kiss his cheek hello. “Hi Bucky.”
At the sound of your voice, Bucky’s backpack starts to move and Alpine’s white furry head peeks out between the open zipper.
“ALPINE!” you squeal, rubbing his head.
“He would have been very upset if I showed up without him,” Bucky laughs. “You can take him out if ya want.”
You reach down and gather up the cat, carefully lifting him out until he’s in your arms. You coo and gush over him while Bucky waits for your coffees.
The barista sets them down with a smile.
“Oh…shit,” Bucky mutters, finally tearing his eyes away from you when the coffee arrives. “Uh…I almost forgot,” he continues, holding out the bouquet of flowers. “These are for you.”
You take them with your free hand and bring them to your nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance.
“They’re so beautiful Bucky! Thank you!”
He grabs your coffees and starts toward a small empty table in the back. “You’re welcome doll. I got them at the Farmer’s Market in Union Square this morning.”
“You picked them out?” you ask, softly fingering the petals of the different blooms.
“Yeah,” he answers, looking both proud and slightly shy at the same time. “I like makin’ bouquets but I don’t really get the chance much.”
Bucky puts the coffees down and pulls your chair out for you.
“Well, it’s perfect,” you tell him as you sit, setting the flowers down on the extra seat. “Thank you!”
Alpine promptly curls up in your lap, his tail swishing contentedly back and forth as you pet him.
Bucky sits next to you and unhooks the front strap of his backpack before slinging it off.
You stare at his chest.
“Oh my god,” you giggle.
“What?” he asks. “Did I drop some of my breakfast on my shirt?”
His worried eyes shoot down and he pulls his shirt away from his body, studying it closely.
“That shirt is so cute!”
He sighs in relief and lifts his eyes with a chuckle. “Yeah, I couldn’t resist.”
You press your hand to the soft fabric to smooth it out, poking the spot where the cat sits on the shelf in between all the plants. The feel of his hard chest beneath your fingertips has you pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and it takes all of your willpower to drag your hand away.
“I love it,” you whisper. “It feels soft too.”
“It’s really comfortable,” he agrees. “I’m glad you like it. I didn’t even realize I put it on. Sometimes I wonder if all the plant and cat stuff is a bit much…”
“No way,” you interject. “What’s not to love about plants and cats?”
You sip your coffee and eye him over the rim of the cup.
“You get it,” he says, the corner of his eyes crinkling with his smile.
“Mmm,” you hum, “this is so good. I can’t believe I’ve never been here!”
“This place is great,” he agrees, “and they allow cats!”
After some yummy sips and comfortable silence he asks, “so how’s Spidey? Still alive I hope?”
“Thankfully still alive,” you giggle. “But I still don’t know the best spot to keep him and how often to water him and if I should repot him? If I kill another plant I’m not sure my confidence will recover…”
You laugh but the look on your face must say it all.
“You’re not going to kill him doll!” he assures you before launching into a barrage of questions and information.
You’re long done with your coffee and scones by the time you both feel satisfied that you have enough starter plant knowledge to keep Spidey thriving.
“When he gets too big for his pot I can’t wait to pick a new one out! They have so many cute ones on Etsy!”
Bucky drops his head with a playful scoff. “Don’t even get me started on Etsy. I have two new pots on the way right now.”
“Lemme see!” you squeak, smacking him in the arm in excitement.
He feigns pain and rubs the spot. “Ouch.”
“Oh please,” you tease. “You’re like solid muscle. There is no way that hurt.”
You squeeze his bicep and he instinctively flexes.
“Well now you’re just showing off,” you tell him, “and if you don’t stop I’m going to feel you up in the coffee shop.”
He goes still, his eyes laser focused on you before they drop to your lips when your tongue darts out to wet them.
“I’m sorry,” you mutter, feeling your skin heat with embarrassment. “I would never…”
“Doll,” he says, stopping you. “It’s fine. More than fine actually. I have zero problem with you touching me.”
“Oh.”
His eyes wander over your face before he leans in a little closer.
“That’s good,” you whisper, getting a good whiff of him, clean and spicy.
“Here are your blueberry muffins to go!” the barista says as she sets down the boxes.
You and Bucky move apart quickly, clearly startled out of the heat of the moment.
“Thanks,” you say, giving the barista a small smile.
When you take out your wallet he stops you with a warm hand over yours. “I got it doll.”
“But you already got the coffee and scones,” you explain.
“And I’ve got the muffins too,” he says.
“Thank you.”
He leans in and gives you a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary and your skin tingles.
“Thank you,” he whispers before pulling out his phone.
He scrolls around for a few seconds before turning his screen around so you can see it. There’s a picture of a white pot with a cat shaped face, the cat’s expression sweet and serene.
“So I got that one anddddd this one,” he says, scrolling again to a picture of another white cat planter, except this time it has four little legs.
“I love them,” you say. “They’re perfect and almost as cute as Alpine!”
Once you’re outside in the sunshine and back to some form of reality you reluctantly hand over Alpine.
“Guess I have to give him back huh?” you joke.
“Well,” Bucky begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re going to be at the Farmer’s Market again tomorrow morning. If you’re around you could join us?”
“I do need to stock up on fruits and vegetables,” you muse. “I’ll be there, just text me a time later.”
Thankfully Sunday morning comes quickly and you’re out the door in record time, strolling down West 17th street in the sunshine.
When you don’t see Buck you start to amble around the stalls, picking through various fruits and admiring the jarred jams.
“That one is really good.”
The deep and familiar voice makes you smile before you even turn around and when you do you see Bucky standing there with his backpack against his chest and Alpine’s head sticking out.
“Hey you two!”
He quickly but carefully swings the bag to his shoulder and wraps his free arm around your waist, pulling you toward his chest for a sweet kiss on the cheek.
His hair is down today, brushing his shoulder and you have a strong urge to take one of the strands hanging in his face and twirl it around your finger.
Instead, you reach up and tuck it behind his ear, your eyes studying his face while you lean into him.
“I also have that in fig and raspberry flavor.”
“I think she’s talking to you,” Bucky says with a smirk.
“Huh?” you mumble, still staring at him.
He delicately takes your chin between his fingers and turns your head toward the stall.
“OH!” you squeak. “I’m so sorry…I was just saying hello and um…right. Did you say fig and raspberry?”
The vendor nods with a knowing smile.
“That’s great. I love figs. I’ll take one!”
You slip from Bucky’s arms and finish the transaction, taking your nicely packaged jam and walking toward the next stall, still feeling a bit awkward.
When you stop at the sunflower stall Bucky says, “I’ve always wanted to grow these but I don’t really have anywhere to do it.”
“They get really tall right?”
“Yeah, taller than me,” he says with a laugh. “I have to do more research.”
“They’re beautiful! Have you ever been to a farm to see them. It’s amazing!”
“I haven’t yet but I’d really like to do that,” he admits.
“We can go together…if you want?”
“How about you let me take you on a proper date first then we’ll go out to the farm and pick sunflowers.”
“I love that plan.”
Even though you’re still standing beside the stall and there are people walking by and around you, it seems as if it all fades away as Bucky steps closer and his fingertips graze your arm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.
He whispers your name, his eyes falling to your lips just before Alpine’s paw shoots between your faces and bats away a loose piece of Bucky’s hair.
“Alpine!” Bucky chides. “Watch it buddy!”
You cover your mouth but can’t stop your eruption of giggles as you watch Alpine continue to try and bat Bucky in the face.
“Told you he was a menace!” Bucky says with a pointed look at Alpine who simply meows with a blink.
“Aw but who could be mad at that face?” you coo, scratching under Alpine’s chin.
“ME!” Bucky practically pouts. “I’m mad!”
A smile tugs at the corner of his lips and after a moment of silence you both start laughing again.
“Come on,” Bucky says as he slings his arm around your shoulder. “Let’s buy some food!”
By the time you’re done perusing and purchasing it’s almost lunch time.
“I’m starving,” Bucky says as he rubs his stomach.
Your eyes fall to the action just as his shirt rides up and you catch a glimpse of his taut skin lined with a dark trail of hair that disappears into his jeans.
With a hard swallow you avert your eyes and mumble, “me too!”
“Wanna get some lunch doll?”
“What was that?” you ask, lifting your eyes to find him watching you intently.
“Do you want to grab a bite? It’s lunch time.”
“Shit, already! I’m supposed to meet my best friend for lunch at one!”
“It’s only a little after twelve, don’t worry,” he assures you with a smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I’d invite you to come along but it’s our girl time,” you explain, looking disappointed yourself.
“Nope, I get it doll. That’s important time but let me at least walk you back to your place.”
“I’d like that.”
He adjusts Alpine and his backpack then takes your bag from you, switching hands so his free one is swinging next to yours.
Every so often your fingers brush as you walk and finally he hooks his pinky through yours, gauging your reaction. When you smile and tighten your grip he entwines all his fingers with yours, brushing his thumb over your knuckles.
You walk back to your apartment hand in hand.
“I can’t believe I didn’t buy any flowers or plants today,” Bucky states, looking surprised as he holds the door of your building open for you.
“Oh my gosh, you didn’t!”
“It’s your fault,” he teases. “You’re a distraction.”
You press your teeth into your bottom lip and shrug demurely before turning and heading up the steps.
“Thankfully I’m only on the second floor…this is me.”
You point to the door on the left and start to fish for your keys. Once you have the door open you tell him to come in so you can take your bag and show him Spidey.
He approves of your placement and also Spidey’s overall health and you clap your hands together happily.
Your phone dings and you grab it, quickly reading a text from Nat.
“Thank goodness she finally picked a place to eat,” you laugh.
“Me and Alpine will have to pick some pizza up on the way home,” he says with a wink.
You stand only a few inches apart, staring at each other.
“Well, I guess…” you start.
“Thanks for meeting…” he begins at the same time.
You both drop your heads and laugh.
“I had the best time Bucky. I wish we could have had lunch too…”
“Nah don’t worry, it’s ok doll. I mean I do too. I would have loved to spend the rest of the day with you but you have plans. I understand.”
He turns and starts toward the door.
“Don’t forget to say goodbye to Alpine. He’ll bitch the whole way home if you don’t.”
As if on cue Alpine’s two white ears perk up and he pops his head out of Bucky’s open backpack.
“Bye handsome,” you croon. “Be good and I’ll see you soon.”
“He’s not coming on our dinner date next week,” Bucky chimes in. “I don’t want him stepping on my toes again.”
“Awwww,” you say with feigned sadness. “I’ll miss him!”
When Bucky’s standing in your doorway he turns to face you again and licks his lips.
“Text me when you get home?” he asks, his tone unsure.
“I will,” you say with a soft smile.
“Have fun doll!”
You both stand there staring at each other again and you finally take a step closer, your eyes focused on his before they drop to his lips.
“Bye Bucky.”
You practically invite him to kiss you, pressing yourself against him as you lean up. You lay your palms on his chest and feel his muscles flex beneath you. He dips his head, his lips brushing your cheek before he gives you a quick peck in the same spot and turns on his heel.
You try to hide your disappointment with a smile but the corners of his mouth turn down as he backs up.
“See you soon,” he says quietly.
“See you soon,” you reply as you start to shut the door.
With a wave you shut it softly and let out an exhale as you deflate.
You’re not even two steps away when you hear a knock. Your stomach erupts in butterflies as you twirl around and swing the door open, staring at Bucky on the other side.
“That’s not at all how I wanted to say goodbye,” he murmurs before he steps back inside your apartment, shuts the door and spins you against it.
You realize there’s nowhere to go as you find yourself pressed to the door; Bucky’s hard body lined up with yours.
The first thing you feel is the strength of his metal hand as it wraps around your arm and his other clasping the nape of your neck as he drags you closer and covers your mouth with his.
You make a throaty sound you can’t control and cling to him, the smell of him, the feel of his hands holding you to him, it’s all overwhelming in the best way. His hand at your neck tightens every so slightly and he groans, the sound skimming across your skin like electricity.
He deepens the kiss, demanding more and it’s enough to steal your breath. Your hands dive into his hair and you moan into his mouth again, unable to stop it as his hand on your arm slips behind you and traces the curve of your spine.
With a muttered curse he breaks the kiss, pulling back only an inch to look into your eyes. His blue eyes are dark, his long lashes lowered as he traces his tongue over his swollen lips.
“Bucky?” you whisper.
He closes his eyes, resting his forehead to yours.
“I’m sorry if that was…”
“It was perfect,” you whisper.
His eyes open and he lifts his head, reluctantly putting some space between you.
“Perfect,” he repeats.
He still looks like he wants to kiss you again and again as his eyes wash over you and his expression looks pained.
Your phone dings again.
“Nat,” you state, not taking your eyes off him.
He wavers, leaning toward you before he mutters, “fuck,” and runs a hand through his hair. “Right. Lunch.”
“I’ll talk to you later doll,” he says.
“Ok,” you manage, willing your body to keep holding you upright.
He gives you a slow and sexy smile before turning and walking down the steps.
@book-dragon-13 @randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @goldylions @sebstanwhore @kmc1989
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#plant!dad Bucky#beefy!bucky#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#beefy!bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#plant!dad bucky x reader#plant!dad bucky au#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader
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𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧
𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ➛ Guys My Age AU: Masterlist
Paring: divorced!neighbor!Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings: soft father figure Bucky, age gap (reader’s in uni and Bucky’s in his 40s), hurt/comfort, heavy topics (indications of an abusive parent), smut 18+ ONLY MDNI, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (male receiving), lots of praise, dirty talk, and teasing. Bold italicized text is from the reader’s journal or past!!
Synopsis: You can't seem to keep your plans straight or your hands off of each other.
Word Count: 3.5k words
Authors Note: I have finally decided to update this fic, and I am so sorry it took so long. This part was supposed to be double the length, but I split it in half to post something now until I am happy with the second part. Enjoy!!
𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝
𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✴︎ 𝐒. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✴︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
You’ve been awake for hours.
The bright rays of sunlight sneak through the narrow opening of the cream curtains that lightly sway in the summer breeze. The ashamed feeling of disgust still sunken deep into your heavy chest. Brain fuzzy, limbs weak, stomach cramping, nausea taking over your body as you groan.
You tiredly stretch; the feeling of your cotton sheets is the only comfort you’ve gotten since Bucky held you in his safe arms. The sunken bags under your eyes become more apparent every day you go without him.
Falling back into your drowsy state, chilling goosebumps creep down your spine. Yet, no matter the temperature, all you can feel is the isolation and the guilt you somehow manage to carry, blaming yourself for the actions others make.
A sudden buzz from your phone instantly snaps you out of your hopeless mood. Too lethargic to check your messages, you ignore the notifications. A second buzz vibrates against your wooden bedside table. Tiredly you lift your hand out from under the covers. You squint your eyes as the bright screen inflicts your tired vision.
Dad - 9:27 am
About to leave for my business trip
Dad - 9:29 am
Your keys are in the kitchen
His texts give a clear indication of what will be happening.
What always happens.
You can’t deny the sick feeling that stirs your stomach from normalizing his apathetic customs. Dropping your phone onto your burdensome chest, you have zero reaction to the thump of the heavy glass screen on your exposed skin.
You huff out, grief crawling under your skin. As you pull your covers over your face, you hear yet another buzz, your phone buzzing on your skin. "Shut up," you irately mumble into your soft duvet.
Carelessly, you sit up, sick of seeing your father's name. You quickly glance at the message, not bothering to see what it says, immediately throwing your phone back onto the sheets.
Freezing your movements, you furrow your brows in confusion.
You sit fully up for the first time this morning. Leaning against your headboard, you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to collect yourself from the lingering worries built up through your restless night. Nervous excitement washes the sullen expressions off your face.
Your heart beats at a pathetically fast rate from simply seeing a notification.
Butterflies swarm your stomach, filling your throat with apprehensive nausea. Oh my god, just look at the fucking message. You take a deep breath, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the candle that lingers around your room; building up the courage, you open Bucky’s text.
Bucky - 9:31 am
Good morning, sweetheart! I hope you got a good night's sleep and got some rest. If you want to come over, I’ll be at my house. I just need to finish a little work but come whenever you want. There is a key behind the plant pot :)
Overwhelmed, you feel a sense of consolation as you read Bucky’s text repeatedly. You drag your hands down your face, shaking off your last bit of exhaustion.
It’s a little pathetically how a straightforward text Bucky probably wrote without thinking could bring you this much joy.
Stretching your sore muscles, you take your time to get out of bed – following the bright shine through the curtains, you pull them open to the sound of your father’s car dragging against the gravel. You turn your back to the window, take a deep breath, and push away your negative thoughts.
You spend the next thirty minutes getting ready, taking your time to feel the hot water run down your back. You gently rub the sweet vanilla scent across your skin, wincing as your fingers skim over your bruises and sore muscles.
Overcome by the debilitating urge to rush next door, you hastily gather your journal and headphones, knowing Bucky will be busy for a bit – you don’t care how long it takes him.
You slip into a pair of shorts, the distressed denim skimming your legs, and the cotton of your old band-tee loosely hangs from your shoulders.
The warm breeze hits your skin as your shadow follows your restless steps until you reach the familiar sight of Bucky’s front door.
You follow his expected thoughtful notes, involuntarily smiling as you pick up the cold key from the shade behind the potted plant, dragging the tip of your finger against the sharp ridges of the metal and taking a breath before gathering your overly excited body.
Carefully opening the heavy door, you step inside. The perfect type of silence and captivating scent flood your senses. Just being in Bucky’s house felt safe. The calm, sleek modern features hold a refreshing atmosphere that radiates the most precious feeling.
As you step out of your untied Converse, the silence breaks. A faint purr draws you to the couch, and your giddiness heightens.
“Hello, pretty,” you coo, sitting beside the snow-white feline. “Don’t you look comfy?” Then, with one hand tenderly stroking Alpine, you pull your pen and journal out of your canvas bag.
Curled beside you, Alpine’s eyes flutter shut. “You have the most beautiful eyes, just like your dad.” She purrs in response closing the slight gap. “The most beautiful blue eyes.”
Your soft smile melts into a somber gulp as you take out your journal–leafing through your messy notebook and skimming over your prior writing. Lump forming in your throat, you hinder your light flipping of the pages and blankly stare at your words from the previous nights.
The rivets of dried tear stains scatter your notes like the cuts and bruises fading from your skin.
The painful pages of burden. Every word, hit, insult, ingrained in your memory, the agonizing pluses, the claustrophobic beating of your heart, the fearful tremors, the salty tears slipping through the passage of your lips, manipulated to insanity, exhausted and delirious.
Bottled-up emotions flooded onto the pages of your journal – forever stuck in the cycle of shock, fear, denial, anger, and hopelessness. The stiffly chained pattern has never broken before.
You never expected to feel any sort of safety.
Shame is always significant, always present, lingering in your mind, but the way Bucky cradles you in his strong arms brings you the comfort and acceptance you never expected, ever. The mounds of self-doubt that control your life slowly dissipate with every second you spend with him. The feeling he gives you is so foreign, and there are not enough words to describe it. The way he holds you in his arms. He’s nurturing. He feels like home.
The desperate longing for someone – that someone, perfect with all of their flaws and broken pieces. That person who will mend your fragile, fragmented mind, body, and soul. You never thought you would find the person, but with Bucky, it is finally starting to feel real.
You’ve never felt joy reading through your journal, repressed memories surfacing, haunting your every moment. Well, not until the night you spent the night at Buckys.
He is perfect – every part of him.
“Sweetheart?” Bucky calls, a deep and gentle voice echoing down the stairs. His eyes land on the precious sight below him, and he gushes.
Longing gaze snapped back into reality, turning around and stuffing your journal in your bag. “Bucky?”
Nimble fingers rubbing through his beard, scratching the nape of his neck, he teases, taking his last steps to the couch. “Bunny?” kneeling, he tenderly pulls you into a hug, stroking Alpine when she lets out a jealous meow.
Walking down the hall, Bucky guides you into his bedroom. Thoughts mirroring yours, he stops you, gripping your chin between his fingers. Limbs intertwining and heavy breaths mingling, his soft lips skimming yours.
“Miss hearing that flustered hitch in your breath,” he whispers against your lips. “Perfect little girl’s all mine.”
You huff, nuzzling your heated cheeks into his buff chest. “Miss everything about you,” your words muffle against the black cloth constricting Bucky’s muscular figure.
Silence has never been more beautiful, cradled in his arms. Tension building with no fear, just desire.
“Got you something,” Bucky smirks.
Letting out a faint whine, you look up at Bucky, urgently wrapping your arms around his neck. Dwindling patience at an all-time low, heart rate climbing, Bucky welcomes your lips. His tongue glides pasts yours, syncing with the motion of your body as you cling to him.
“I got you a swimsuit,” Bucky whispers into the kiss. “Can go swimming this time, not just— God,” he curses under his breath when you playfully suck along his jaw.
“Not just… fuck me?” you pull away, surprising yourself with the way your words blatantly slip out of your mouth.
Bucky laughs, mockingly pulling away and laying a kiss on your forehead. “Someone’s got a dirty mouth today,” he chuckles, cupping your cheek.
With another sheepish grin, you follow Bucky down the hall, patiently swaying in your seat; you wait for him to bring you the swimsuit he found while in his suit.
Confidence in his step, Bucky tenderly smiles, holding out a cherry red one-piece.
Throat abruptly going dry, the customary throb radiates heat through your jean shorts. Hesitation stirs in your stomach–nervous nausea blocking your airway, cutting your breath short.
I’ve never felt uncomfortable around him. He’s never commented on my body, never drawn attention to my bruises and scars, and never made me feel weird for the horrendous way my eyes get puffy and face blotches when I cry. No one has ever made me feel the same as he does or made me feel good about myself. So does he care or only pity me because I’m just that pathetic? I don’t want him to worry about me. I don’t want him to think I just want attention. I don’t want to feel even more ashamed of myself. I just want to keep pretending that life is perfect, like how it is when I’m with him.
“I’m not the best shopper, aren't I?” Bucky sarcastically snickers, lightening the worried expression on your face.
“No, no, it’s just a little red?” you giggle, pushing your stresses aside. “I love it!”
Smiling up at Bucky, he takes your place, sitting on the linen couch. The soft chuckles of banter gone silent, you timidly undressing to rapidly put the swimsuit on. Tense arms hidden behind your back, you fidget with your fingers, eyes following the pattern of the wooden tiles.
Tongue swiping across his velvety yet slightly chapped lips, his large hand grips your discarded clothes. “Bunny?” his tone sweet and delicate, melodically humming with the blowing wind that ruffles the curtains.
Hands molding to your shoulders, he coos, “Take a deep breath for me.” Chaos constantly cluttering your mind, you follow Bucky’s instructions, giving him your vulnerability. “You don’t need to be scared of me. I’m here for you, no matter what.”
All you can do is nod, leaning into his warm embrace.
*ೃ༄
The summer sun beats down on the two of you as you agilely trace patterns down Bucky’s abdomen, centimeters away from gliding over his shorts. You shift lower in the sun lounger, intertwining your thigh around his leg.
The nervous lump thumping in your chest falls, adding to the pulse radiating off your clit and breaking the stop to your restlessness, gradually bucking your clenched hips as your nose brushes the thick trail of hair that travels beneath the waistband of his shorts.
“Feeling needy, bunny?” Bucky smugly chuckles, placing his book down and his colossal palm on your head instead. “No need to act shy; been teasing me, wiggling in those little red bottoms.”
You tuck your head, and your flustered instinct kicks in, nose pressing against Bucky’s bulge; you whimper, realizing your position and rising embarrassment.
“Did so good for me last time. I’m still here to help but fuck.” Bucky tenderly rests his palm on your cheek. “Gonna get me hard just thinking about those soft lips wrapped around my cock, looked so pretty, so innocent sucking on my balls. Most perfect sight I’ve ever seen.”
The temperature of your face increases, but that doesn’t stop your body and your racing thoughts. Vivid images flood your memory of the first time you gave Bucky head, the first time you have ever given a man head.
The one time has left you with a ravenous craving for Bucky, a desperate yearning to please him, the vague taste of him ingrained in your imagination every second that goes by, and it’s intoxicating.
“Can I?”
Looking up, you admire Bucky's defined abs, perfectly sculpted biceps, the bright sunlight glimmering in his crystal blue eyes. A comforting aura emits from his words, breath, and presence; that feeling of safety mixed with passion curates his effect on you, the lust that flows through your veins, leaving you writhing for friction.
You sit up, putting your weight on your heels – pressing against the emerging wet patch on your red bikini. “You know, um….” you mumble, eyes subconsciously drawing to Bucky’s bulge.
He shifts up, spreading his thighs, establishing a space for you to lay. “We have an eager little girl today, now do we?” Bucky chuckles, cupping your cheek and pressing a kiss to your forehead, savoring the feeling of his soft, blush lips on your skin before he pulls away, his gaze piercing through your eyes with a gentle smile. “You’re gonna make me crazy,” he murmurs.
Licking your lips, you tug the supple flesh with your teeth; anticipating his following instructions, you center yourself and lay your clammy palms on your legs, exhibiting your restlessness with a subtle pout.
Intertwining his fingers with yours, he guides your hands to his growing bulge. “Don’t worry, bunny. I'm here.” The trembling of your wrists dies down as Bucky reassuringly moves your shaky touch to a steady pace. “I got you.”
Slipping your fingers past the band of Bucky’s swim trunks, you pull them down his hips, gaze apprehensively shifting from Bucky’s alluring eyes to the expanding path of hair you’re gradually exposing.
“Lemme just,” Bucky grumbles, freeing his strained erection and aching full balls from the polyester. A content sigh washes over him as you finish taking off his bottoms.
Sinful and tainted, you cave in, your mouth watering excessively as you attentively watch Bucky wrap his fingers around his thick base. “Go on and lay down for me.”
You hastily shift into the spot between Bucky’s muscular thighs, timidly placing a hand on his olive skin. “There you go, pretty girl’s so smart,” Bucky croons, his palm smoothing over your temple.
Your fingers barely conceal Bucky’s staggering girth mimicking his form seconds before; you glide your tongue up his shaft coating him with an abundant amount of your drool, all while maintaining hankering eye contact. His distinct, musky taste seeping into your taste buds, the feeling of his jutting veins intoxicating, you let out a content hum. Following your steady path, you kiss Bucky’s bulbous tip; a faint moan vibrates off your puckered lips, drawing a deep grunt from his chest.
“You see how hard you make me? Fucking hell, don’t need my help at all. So good for me—” Bucky groans, guiding your head down, pushing himself past your glistening lips. “That’s my girl.”
You immediately gag, glassy eyes building tears, your body’s natural response seeming hostile, but it’s your favorite feeling.
Both hands tentatively wrapped around him, the tip of Bucky’s cock prods the back of your throat—drool seeping past your lips, cascading over your tense knuckles.
Bucky's words meld into satisfied grunts, his chest heaving to the rhythm he enforces with his hand pressing down on the crown of your head. “Always take me like a champ,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Don’t you, bunny?”
His pulsing tip pummels down your throat, pushing your head down further, and a perfectly sculpted outline of his cock shapes down your neck abundantly. Copious amounts of saliva coat your chin, running down your chest and creating a glistening pool to glaze over the cushion below you.
Encouraging groans flow from Bucky’s lips as he digs his pearly white teeth into his plush red lips. His eyes locked on yours, the plentiful strands of silver that weave through his hair, glimmering in the sunlight.
The thump in your chest drops between your legs. You urgently clamp your thighs together, helplessly clenching your muscles in an attempt to fulfill the ache exuding heat from your neglected clit. You sync your needy movements with the tempo Bucky set with his hand planted on the back of your head. The repetition of your self-inflicted grinds rapidly builds a coil in your stomach.
Bucky frees you from under his grasp, stifles the tempo of his thrusts, and pumps his cock. “There she is,” he groans. “Shit. Making me feel so good.”
Increasing the speed of the rough buckling of your hips, Bucky continues to praise you as your drool-painted lips connect to his full heavy balls. His stare drops from your watery eyes to your hips, needily grinding onto nothing. “You don’t need my help, doing amazing. Love it so much you’re humping the air, aren’t you, poor thing?”
The sound of your gags is replaced by your pleading whimpers, which have become more and more substantial as you borrow your nose further against Bucky’s base, his balls drawing up as you slurp your excessive drool.
“Come here,” Bucky motions, soothingly rubbing your free hand on his thigh. “Help me cum – need to feel that pretty cunt wrapped around my fingers. Need to show my girl how proud of her I am.”
Responding with a confused hum, Bucky cups your cheek, gently guiding you up, patting the cushion; he stabilizes your trembling legs, straddling your thighs so you’re hovering over his cock, harder than ever.
He patiently hooks his dexterous fingers around the vibrant fabric, revealing your puffy clit.
He catches your keen gaze, eyes following down to your eager pout and back to your cunt, skimming your mound with his digits. Struggling to form a sentence, you reflexively roll your hips, internally screaming, begging for Bucky to speed up his sly gestures.
His soft chuckles fuel your neediness, but before he can get his words out, you huff, “be patient. I know, I know.” Digging your fingers into his biceps, you giggle, mirroring his smile.
Swimsuit fully pushed to the side, Bucky slides his tip between your folds, teasing your entrance. “Using my words against me,” he rebuts, moving his hands and securely gripping your waist. “You know I’m right. I always make you feel good.”
Playfully rolling your eyes, you whimper under your breath, “Bucky.”
Feeding your restless state, he slowly slips you down onto his length, stretching past your entrance.
As much pleasure as Bucky has brought you in every other position, this foreign fluffiness and a false sense of control is startling yet exciting. Bucky’s steady thrusts, combined with your frantic bounces as you rock your hips, almost instantly bring you to your climax.
“B-Buck–” you mewl, embarrassment and pleasure clouding your senses. “Please, I’m- I’m….” Squinting your eyes shut, you arch your back, tensing your muscles.
Maintaining his authoritative grasp on you, Bucky attaches the pad of his thumb to your clit, pulling a squeal from the back of your throat. “So quick,” he scoffs, breathlessly moaning himself. “Look at me, bunny.”
You collapse onto Bucky’s chest, tired and helplessly chasing the rapid thump in your abdomen. “Feels s-so, feels so good.” Brows furrowed, you open your heavy lids, holding back your release until Bucky reassures your pleas. “Can’t hold it, can’t hold it.”
Desperately squirming on top of Bucky, you press your parted lips to his, panting into his mouth. “Go on, cum for me.”
You let go, moaning as you jolt forward, embracing Bucky’s pace, clinging to his frame, letting him take complete control. “There you go—” Bucky’s words get increasingly gravelly as he feels himself climaxing.
His hot breath cascades down your neck–the heightening, deep, harsh snaps of hips let you know he is close. “B-Bucky, please. Please c-cum in me,” you breathlessly mumble.
“Fuck, bunny.”
Bucky holds you close, soothing you from the bliss. He isn’t thinking about anything else besides you in his arms. He lets you bask in the comfortable silence as the pulse between your legs ebbs away until all that is left painting your sensitive folds is his smooth seed that you begged him to fill you up with.
Keeping your clammy cheek pressed to his beating chest Bucky reaches for one of the pool towels he had brought out to clean up to the best of his abilities.
“Said we were swimming, and you wouldn’t just fuck me,” you murmur, voice still raspy as you pull yourself out of the hazy aftermath.
Bucky chuckles as he lays the towel back down. “Really are using my word’s against me today, aren’t you?”
“Uhmm,” you happily hum back at Bucky, shifting up to press your buzzing lips back onto his.
𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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Can you tell us a bit more about photographer Gale and model Bucky?
Hello Anon :) Thanks for the ask!
I actually have the second part of this AU drafted so it should be posted within the week. I don't want to spoil anything from that, so I can tell you a bit more about Gale.
Gale got into photography mostly as a lark. He needed an elective in College between mathematics and physics and photography was the only thing that sounded remotely interesting.
He's so bad at first. Their tutor assigns them to photograph buildings and plants and scenery and objects, and he thinks maybe, just maybe, dance would have been less torture than this.
But then, he gets to photograph people, and it's like a switch is flicked.
He loves to pick out all the details of their faces, the lines and curves of their bodies, the expressions in their eyes.
He loves high contrast black and white, and vibrant colours, and movement.
And it's a good thing, too, because when his dad's drinking comes back to haunt him and he gets sick, Gale has no choice but to leave college and take care of his parents.
So photography pays the bills, but his love for it dies a little because he has to do basic commercial stuff because he needs the cash.
When he gets to call from Helen about a calendar for the LGBTQ+ centre, he finally gets excited again. He knows her through Crosby, a friend from college. He and Helen dated for a bit, whilst he was also seeing his now wife, Vera.
Helen warns him about John. "He comes across all brash and bravado, and he is. He's utterly charming. With a heart of gold. But don't let him fool you, Gale. He's been through...he's got a lot of soft spots, under it all. I chose you because you're brilliant, but also because I know you'll be gentle with him. Poor sod doesn't know he needs it."
And that's where we'll pick up in Part 2!
#clegan#buck x bucky#john egan#gale cleven#photographer!gale#model!john#mota#headcanon#alternative universe
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for whosoever believeth in him (shall not perish but have everlasting life)
An exploration of the two oldest Applebees siblings' relationship with religion. tw// religious trauma, child abuse, let me know if I should add anything else.
AO3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55677883/chapters/141332254
Part One: The Prophet
Part Two: The Proselyte
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight."
-Proverbs 3:5-6
When Kristen was having a hard day, this is the verse that came to mind most often. It was the one she fell back on when it got hard to stay awake at church, or Bucky did something to annoy her and her first instinct was to annoy him back. She was Helio’s Chosen, she knew better than to act like that. It’s not Bucky’s fault he hadn’t learned yet, he wasn’t Chosen like her, he would come to it in his own time. Instead, she would correct him gently and mend anything he broke with a Mending cantrip, one of the earliest signs of her Blessing. It’s the one she’s repeating under her breath now, as she dies in a highschool cafeteria, surrounded by the corn that should have, by all accounts, been blessed with Helio’s light and protected or healed her rather than harmed her. It’s her first set of dying words, though no one else would ever know it.
She sneaks her principal into heaven only to be sent back to the mortal plane herself. Worse than that, Helio refuses to answer the one question that’s been sitting on her mind for years: why do you let bad things happen to good people? Not only does he not have an answer, he throws her out of the afterlife when s he asks. There is a seed of doubt firmly planted in her heart by that interaction, though she supposes this isn’t the first time she felt a flutter of something like it.
"I can do all this through Him who gives me strength."
-Philippians 4:13
She supposes this could have gone better. She’s never been left home alone to babysit before, but her parents say that since he just turned nine she’s finally old enough. She’s making macaroni and cheese, with all three boys running around the dining room table. Bucky and Bricker are chasing Cork around the table because he has something she can’t quite make out in his hands, all screaming over each other. She’s just glad that when she told them it wasn’t safe to play in the kitchen they actually listened to her. She felt herself glow with pride at the thought, knowing her mom and dad would be proud of her for taking care of everyone tonight if all went well.
Then, a lot of things happen at once. There’s a crash, a scream, a thudding sound, and then all her brothers are crying. Bricker runs into the kitchen and barely stops short of crashing into her.
“KRISTENKristencomequickit’sCorkhe’shurt and—” he half-shouts, but she stops listening.
“Stay here, turn off the stove, and bring me the emergency phone!” she says immediately, shouting her instructions as she runs into the other room. When she arrives she sees Bucky first, blood all over his hands and face. It takes her a moment to remember what Bricker said and realize it isn’t his own blood, but Cork’s. She casts her eyes downward to see her youngest brother lying there, limp and colorless as blood pooled around him. There’s an action figure, one of Bucky’s, scattered into several pieces about a foot away from his hand. She approaches quickly, realizing that the blood is coming from his head, and grabs one of the napkins off of the table as she pushes Bucky out of the way.
“What happened?” she demands. Bucky looks up at her through his tears, and she realizes abruptly that she doesn’t know how to fix this.
“We were just trying to get my Adventure Man toy back! I tried to grab him and he lost his balance and his head hit the table and then he just started bleeding so fast I didn’t know what to do,” he says, and she does her best to offer him a comforting smile.
“Everything is going to be okay,” she assures him, silently begging Helio for forgiveness for bearing false witness, knowing the moment the lie passes her lips that she’ll have to repent in church for it on Sunday. He seems to relax at her words. “Go and get the black bottle with the white cap from under the bathroom sink.” she says, and he runs off. She’s left alone, for just a moment, with a slowly-dying Cork, and is faced with the helpless thought that she can’t heal him. She should have been watching him.
She begins to whisper prayers, each and every one she knows, under her breath.
Bucky and Bricker enter the room at the same time, both holding the things she instructed them to grab. She takes the hydrogen peroxide and tells Bucky to take the phone and call their parents, tell them they need to come home, but she’s not sure how to proceed after that. She feels tears prickle in her eyes as Cork’s breathing becomes shallower and shallower, and does her best to clean the wound and wrap it up despite the fact that the blood-soaked towel isn’t doing much anymore.
Just when the tears begin to fall, the moment that all hope seems lost, it happens. Her hands glow with a brilliant, burning golden light and the air fills with the scent of popcorn. Cork’s eyes fly open as the color returns to his face, and suddenly she can breathe again. She pulls her littlest brother into a tight hug, and Bucky and Bricker join them. She can faintly hear the sound of her parents as they come through the door, moments too late to be helpful but she’s grateful they’re there nonetheless. The whole world feels far away except for her brothers, right here with her.
“What happened here?” her mom asks, “Kristen, did you just heal your brother? Was he hurt, did you heal him?”
Kristen looks up from the hug and is only able to nod before her dad starts to separate the four of them. Bucky and Bricker move back when they’re told to, sent off to get cleaned up, but it takes her a few extra seconds before she can let herself let go. Her mom wraps her arms around her to guide her into the living room, and through the shock Kristen can faintly hear her calling Pastor Amelia to share the good news.
“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is Sol’s will for you in Lord Helio.”
-1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
Kristen’s eyes are starting to get heavy. She’s been staring upward for almost a full twenty-four hours at that point, feeling the searing heat of Sol’s light burn her face as she murmurs her prayers along with the pastor onstage. Pastor Amelia’s shift ended some time ago, so it was a man’s low southern drawl leading them now, but she can’t be sure how long it’s been. She’s ten, so it’s not her first Harvest Festival, so Helio is making her last longer than he used to before he intervenes to help her through her prayers. Her skin feels raw and blistering, and her eyes strain against the unrelenting light. She’s doing her best to make him proud.
She knows the girl beside her, who seemed so devoted when they met at the beginning, was carried out after only three hours or so. The boy in front of her passed out from the heat not long after. She had noticed that he drank all of his daily water in the first hour, but could do nothing to warn him. Bucky is on her other side, here for his first year in the Prayer and doing well. Next year they’ll be in different age groups, but she’s glad to have him here now. She’s pretty sure he’ll have to kneel soon because of how he’s shaking and sweating. Kneeling is allowed as long as they know you’re still awake. There’s a part of her that wants to kneel first so he’s not nervous, but she also knows it’s important that she remains standing as long as possible to fully connect with Helio.
She knows that probably within the hour, they’ll get an optional ten-minute break to refill their water. If Bucky can last until then, she’s pretty sure he’ll be able to make it through the next day.
He kneels, his head falling onto the ground immediately. She knows it’s technically against the rules, but she kicks him in the arm and casts one of her smallest healing spells for him. She can barely see in her peripheral vision as he glows momentarily and looks up at her. He’s still faintly murmuring prayers, so he’s not actually out yet. Kristen feels the toll the spell takes and her knees buckle, so she slowly kneels to avoid taking out those around her if she falls. She distantly notices several other kids around her kneel quickly after, as if they were all awaiting her cue as Chosen. She thinks she should maybe feel guilty for that, but she can’t quite bring care about them right now, only Bucky. He’s still sweating, but as she kneels he seems to remember his placement and raises his face to the sun yet again.
She waits anxiously for someone to say something or for Helio’s reprimand to come for breaking the rules. He sees all, so she knows it’s hopeless to think he won’t notice.
Despite that, nothing comes. When the ten-minute break arrives, Bucky turns as if to speak with her and she just hands him her water jug. “Can you fill this for me, Buck? I’m going to pray through the break. As much ice as you can crush in there, please.” she requests, and he nods.
“Yeah, Kristy, I can do that. I’ll let mom and dad know,” he responds, and she suddenly and desperately wishes for last year, when she was the only one of her siblings doing the full prayer and Bucky’s only job was to make sure she had water on breaks, free to spend most of the rest of the festival playing and enjoying the summer.
The pastor is taking a break, so anyone staying is welcome to do their own prayers. If there’s anyone else in the field, they must be really far away from her. She feels the breeze for the first time in a while, but the sun also beats down harder than before. She sends Helio her apologies, doing her best to appease him, but never feels the sweet rejuvenation of his miracles. Not until the very last second of what should have been her break, right as people return to the field. She feels all eyes on her as she realizes she must have been the only one that stayed judging by the size of the crowd. Right as she registers that information, she feels a warmth in her chest. It expands outward and the day becomes ten times brighter. She’s glowing and feels herself becoming weightless. She knows it’s Helio’s blessing at last, knew all along that forgoing her break was the perfect way to repent. It lasts a full minute before she slowly descends, and when she does she feels it.
She feels like she’s fresh off of a full night’s sleep, completely refreshed. Her braid has redone itself, she feels clean, and her skin is no longer blistering. People suddenly crowd around her on all sides, each kneeling beside her and taking a moment to look up to the sky before returning to their new formation, remaking the neat lines that had been lost before as others failed. Bucky is the last to approach and takes his place beside her, reaching out to grab her hand for one fleeting moment before pulling away again. He puts her water jug and his own between them. For a while, everything is perfect.
Seven hours later, the night brings a unique challenge, and the one that finally removes Bucky from the Prayer. It’s much cooler, a reprieve from the intense heat of the sun, but it’s also dark. At this point in the festival, that makes it too easy to fall asleep. He has the sense to kneel before he does it, but not to totally avoid colliding with Kristen. He falls across her feet, and suddenly she feels tears in her eyes. Maybe she should give up too, help him out of the crowd. She knows it would be frowned upon, and can picture the look of disappointment on her mom and dad’s faces when they see her step away. She can’t bring herself to move. Someone comes to collect Bucky, but she doesn’t see who.
She lasts until noon the next day. It’s been a full forty-eight hours, and she’s the last one standing for their entire age group. The field is empty around her. The clock strikes loudly for twelve o’clock, the time of day where Helio’s magic is the strongest, and suddenly her legs buckle and go out from beneath her. She hits the ground hard, feels the dirt and rocks scrape against her knee. The moment her head hits the ground, she loses consciousness.
Kristen wakes up alone on a cot. There’s a window open, letting fresh air and a little early morning light into the room. She checks her crystal to see it’s six in the morning, eyes aching at the light from the screen until she turns the brightness setting all the way down. She hovers over her mom’s contact for a few moments, considering texting to see where to find them, but can’t bring herself to actually do so. She closes her eyes instead to do a silent prayer for her daily spells, and it feels like a weight off her chest when she feels the holy magic fill her with warmth. Helio is proud of her. She did good.
“Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land that the Lord Helio is giving you.”
-Exodus 20:12
“Kristen, I don’t know how many times we’re going to have to go over this. If they don’t worship Helio, they’re sinners. It doesn’t matter what they do or say because anything done outside of Sol’s light is sin.” her dad is saying, frustration coloring his tone.
Her mom nods in agreement. “If they aren’t faithful, they aren’t your friend. If you can’t depend on them to make the right choice on the most important decision, how can you trust them with anything else?”
Kristen finds herself at a loss for words. It had been Bricker who started all of this, playing with that little Goblin girl on the playground before Mac and Donna had gotten the chance to pull him away. It had been an innocent question. “But she was so nice, what could be wrong with her?” he had said. He’d also immediately accepted his parents’ simple answer: she was a non-believer. Kristen had been fighting this battle for half an hour at this point, determined to show her parents the truth of Helio’s light. This is part of being Chosen, she thinks. It’s her job to right these wrongs, even if it means standing up to her parents.
“Mom, Dad, Sol’s light touches all creatures the same. If they act with good intentions and follow the rules of scripture, they have potential to find faith. Isn’t it our job to lead them there, and let them take their own path there? It doesn’t make them bad people, just lost ones.” she says, not for the first time.
“That’s enough, Kristen,” Mac says finally, using his this-conversation-is-over voice. She winces slightly, knowing that she’s in trouble. “You need to drop this, or we’ll have to go have a talk with Pastor Amelia about you questioning Helio’s word. Is that what you want?”
Panic fills her at the thought of Pastor Amelia’s disappointed face and tone. There’s no way she would still be Helio’s Chosen if she really questioned Him and she knows it. Pastor Amelia having to step in would definitely call it to His attention. She shakes her head quickly.
“No! No, of course not. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to question Him. I just didn’t understand, I guess,” she assures them quietly, and they seem satisfied. When she glances at her brothers, Bricker looks disappointed. She looks away.
“There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies and a person who stirs up conflict in the community.”
-Proverbs 6:16–19
Kristen has never been more excited than her first day of highschool. She’s excited to make friends, and to fulfill Helio’s word by showing them the light. It’s the whole reason that she wanted to go to Aguefort, and it’s why she asks Daybreak to send her to detention with the bad kids. Who better to help the most lost souls in the school than the Chosen of Helio? Who better to bring them under his holy gaze?
She feels a little bad for lying, but knows that she can repent for it tonight and Helio will understand. She feels worse about asking Daybreak to lie for her, and knows she needs to apologize to him too. She’s Chosen, she should know how to act better than that.
It doesn’t matter. They don’t seem happy about her proselytizing, but they seem to like her anyway. She’s looking forward to her new group, to finally getting the chance to be the yeast that makes the whole loaf rise.
She dies instead.
“Do not practice homosexuality, having sex with another man as with a woman. It is a detestable sin."
-Leviticus 18:22
Tracker is maybe the coolest person Kristen has ever met. She’s openly queer, a werewolf, and she worships Galicaea. She grew up in the church and chose to leave it, which is scary, but it’s also really… Exciting? Thrilling? Enticing? Attractive? Kristen isn’t sure she has exactly the right word for it yet, but she knows it feels almost good.
She’s not so sure about Helio anymore. How could He not have the answers she was looking for? Not even for her, His Chosen? What did it even mean to be Chosen by Him? Did it mean anything, if she didn’t choose Him too? She’s not so sure anymore.
She hates that she hasn’t seen her brothers all week. It’s not like it is with her parents with them, they haven’t done anything wrong. She hates that her long school days have led to her avoiding her whole family. She’s had more sleepovers since school started than she has in the whole rest of her life.
She’s pretty sure she has a crush on Tracker. What would that mean for her? Would that make her gay? Or maybe bi? She hopes, for a moment, for that to be the truth but now that she’s thinking about it the thought of spending the rest of her life with a husband in a traditional marriage sounds… suffocating. Spending the rest of her life with someone fun and interesting like Tracker sounds so much better.
Maybe Helio isn’t everything. Maybe her parents are right about him, and if they are then she’s not interested. Maybe Helio holds hatred in his heart.
Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe she’ll find something new.
Maybe she’ll take a leap of faith.
“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
-Hebrews 11:1
She can still cast magic. She’s not sure who or how, but her leap of faith didn’t strip her of her divine magic. She can still heal her friends, and her Spirit Guardians aren’t corn-themed. The magic flowing through her is strange and new, no longer searing heat but instead a slight chill that shoots its way through her from her very core.
Every night’s a sleepover as long as she’s not living at home. Her parents haven’t even tried to get her home yet, not even a text since the other night. She’s just glad Fig and Gilear have been so nice to let Kristen move in with them. There’s no way she would have been able to leave that house if they hadn’t offered; she couldn’t imagine actually asking her friends to take care of her like this. Fig was just nice enough to offer first, so she didn’t feel as bad just accepting.
Tracker is going to be her girlfriend, she’s pretty sure. She still has to actually ask, but she’s pretty sure the feelings she’s having are reciprocal. She talks to Ragh, quietly and briefly, about being gay. He doesn’t make fun of her, which she suspected he wouldn’t. He just nods respectfully along as she speaks and gives her a little head pat before they depart, the most affection she’s seen him show anyone but Dayne.
Kristen’s decided that she’s happy with who she is. If someone has a problem with it, she doesn’t need to care. That’s how Tracker talks about it all: her queerness, her religion, her lycanthropy. There’s no reason Kristen should have to change who she is for some bullshit rules that don’t actually mean anything. Fuck anyone who says otherwise.
“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”
-Ephesians 2:8-9
Kristen is dying again. In the gym, at prom, she is being killed by the vice principal, but it doesn’t even matter. As Helio’s Chosen she is directed straight towards the main office of Heaven when she arrives, only to find Arthur Aguefort waiting for him. Not only does he agree to come back and help her return, but he also gives her his watch to use.
Oh, and she creates a new god.
No big deal.
Okay, big deal. She hates her new god, but it’ll be okay. Maybe YES! just has to grow on her.
“For Sol so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life”
-John 3:16
The chapel makes Tracker freak out, but Kristen can’t get the image of the goddess out of her head. She was beautiful, and there was something strikingly familiar about her. She tries several times to draw her, but to no avail. She doesn’t voice her desires to her friends or even to Tracker on any kind of deeper level, but feels herself drawn to the idea of a forgotten goddess who specializes in doubt. Doubt has already gotten her this far, right?
As they venture into Sylvaire and split up to gather the ingredients, only to lose all their allies except Gilear. Oh, yeah, and Kristen almost dies again, but at least this time she saves Riz. At least this time she has the chance to do some good. She thinks that it’s worth it as long as her friends are safe.
When they make it to the chapel in the forest, their second time coming in, she’s grateful to have Fabian watching her back. The whole place seems creepy, but also strangely alluring. She wants to understand who this goddess was before she was abandoned. Why would her followers do this to her? She steps closer.
‘Why do you searching for me?’ a low, crackling voice speaks directly into her mind.
“I heard that you were the goddess of doubt, and that really resonates with me right now,” Kristen begins to say, but those aren’t the right words. She pauses for a moment to think. “I have a lot of praise for you.” she says finally.
There’s a sharp pain in her chest, accompanied by a horrible wet sound. She chokes, suddenly unable to catch her breath, and grasps for whatever hurt her only to make contact with something that feels like solid bone. She looks down and— Is that a spike?
Fabian says something and then he’s gone and it’s dark. She holds onto consciousness for as long as she can, tilting her head up to the sky and wishing, just for a moment, for the strength of a god supporting her the way Helio used to. It doesn’t come. Neither do her friends.
‘I have a lot of praise for you.’
What was she thinking?
Kristen Applebees, dying yet again with a prayer on her lips.
“‘Who’ is easy. It is us, everything, and you. ‘Why’ is harder.’Why’ is something that only you can decide. The universe doesn't have a ‘why’.”
For a while, she’s floating in nothing. She doesn’t have a sense of time or space, it’s neither light nor dark, there is no sensation. Everything is just empty for a while, and then it’s not anymore. Her eyes are already open when she comes to, face turned upward towards the ceiling.
She looks down to find a gaping hole in her chest, her tie-dye shirt soaked through with blood. She puts her hand through it to make sure it’s not an illusion, but realizes belatedly that that doesn’t mean anything in the Nightmare forest. Looking at her hand, she realizes that her pinky finger is missing too.
She slowly, carefully, wanders out of the room and into the forest. Her friends are far away, and she’s scared, and she’s pretty sure she’s still dead. That suspicion is confirmed when she’s brought face-to-face with the person she wants to see the least right now: Helio. He’s accompanied by Sol and a woman Kristen doesn’t immediately recognize.
The woman introduces herself as Galicaea, Tracker’s goddess, and Kristen can’t help but feel comforted by the thought of her girlfriend for a few moments before it all goes wrong. Are these her only options? Sol’s bullshit or Galicaea’s?
No.
She’ll make her own options. She punches Helio in the face.
Her philosophers aid her as they always have, helping her find the path away and giving her magic while she can’t rely on a deity. She knows what she needs to do.
She’s going to bring back the mystery goddess, no matter what it takes.
“The first rule of existence is as above, so below. People are fractal images of the universe. You are, as we are.”
If the first rule is as above, so below, that’s where she’ll start.
She ends up deep in the forest, and she can hear Tracker hunting her somewhere in the distance. She takes mud from the forest floor and blood from her own chest, using it to paint the goddess’s face on the bark of a wide tree. She’s no artist, but it’s the thought that counts, right?
She all but lays down, her knees folded underneath her and body pressed low, but her eyes cast up to the image. Slowly, it shifts until it shows the image of a beautiful goddess, the very one Kristen has been reaching out for.
She appears in an inky void, mountains in the distance and a deity made of starlight in front of her. They speak of finding comfort in the dark unknown and wielding doubt as a tool rather than holding it in her heart; Kristen feels something slot together like a piece has been missing from the core of her very existence and it’s finally here.
She’s pulled out of the conversation by danger looming outside of her new twilight protective circle, but Tracker is the danger. He escapes into the woods, free yet again, and finally finds her friends. She feels drawn in until she can pull the pinky finger bone out of Adaine’s pocket. She casts raise dead, there’s a sudden bright flash of light, and then it’s done.
She feels her body return to her, hears her friends’ exclamations of surprise at her sudden appearance. She can see, in the low dusk light, the purple tie-dye of her new shirt made to represent her new goddess. Cassandra. She takes her first breath.
St. Kristen Applebees is born again.
#dimension 20#d20#fantasy high#moss speaks#fhjy spoilers#d20 fantasy high#dimension 20 fhjy#d20 fhsy#d20 fh#fhjy#fhsy#saint kristen applebees#kristen fantasy high#kristen applebees#bucky applebees#tw religion#tw religious themes#tw child abuse#tw child neglect#tw childhood trauma#ally beardsley#brennen lee mulligan#fanfic#d20 fanfic#the bad kids#gorgug#gorgug fantasy high#gorgug thistlespring#fabian fantasy high#fabian aramais seacaster
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teddy bear | i want you pt. 2
natasha romanoff masterlist | series masterlist | navigation
pairings: dad’s best friend!natasha x fem!reader
summary: your father doesn’t know it yet, but you’re in love with his best friend. and what makes it better is that you’re sure enough that she feels the same way. the sad part is, neither of you can’t word out your love for each other properly.
warnings: natasha fucking a toy, porn video mentioned, blowjob (natasha receiving), dirty talking, praising, slight angst, and a tension between bucky and natasha - minors dni
notes: it gets real trust me. enjoy!
“Natasha?” Bucky says her name from the tip of his tongue, as if foreign. “Is she like your… godmother?”
The way he said Natasha was my "Godmother" was the worst thing I'd ever heard - the name made my entire body shiver. I turned away from him and stared at the daisies that my father had planted.
“Somethin’ wrong?” he asked; I shook my head in response. “Anyway, are you two close?”
I shrugged, pretending not to notice or care. Because showing him how much I cared about her would be suspicious - he'd know how much I cared about her.
“Yeah, she has been my Dad’s friend ever since.”
He smiled at my reply and licked his lips, continuing to drink from the rim of the beer that my father gave me when he was still around the house. “She sounds nice,” he brought my hand to his and laid them on his lap. I felt nothing. “Is it okay if we hold hands?”
“Well, you are already holding it.” he chuckles. I asked, “Do you think she’s okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like…” my words trailed off; I suddenly didn’t know what to say or do. My mouth felt dry at this point. “Um, do you think she’s a good person?”
He snickers in response. “How would I suppose to know that? Natasha and I never met, Y/n.”
I was finding a compliment from him that would make me feel better whenever I was alone with Natasha or I needed to know his opinions about her. But he was right; how could he possibly know Natasha? My Natasha.
It feels good to say that in my head.
“You’re right,” I chuckled lightly, scratching the back of my neck. “Anyway, are we still going to that–”
“Would you marry me?” he cuts me off with his eyes gazing down at mine. What did he just ask?! I pondered in my head. How could he say such a thing, especially since we're not even in our twenties? Is he out of his mind? Or is he just drunk? He couldn't possibly be. He despises alcohol and would only consume it with friends. I let go of his hand, watching his face scrunch up.
“What?” I asked, wholly obliviated from the situation. His smile fell, and he shrugged, wanting to get out of the subject, knowing I would reject him.
“Forget I asked.”
“I’m just confused,” I ventured. “Like, we are best friends. And aren’t we too young to marry each other?”
Bucky shrugged again and drank his beer, his eyes averting to the ground. If there’s one thing to know about Bucky is that he hates to admit or confess anything that would put him in a tight situation – like right now, for example. He knows that I might reject him, but I also want to see the context of why he asked me that.
“Come on,” I nudged his shoulder on mine, chuckling. “Why did you ask me that?”
“It feels like no one would want me except you.”
“Of course, I’d want you,” I responded, unsure if I was telling a lie. Either way, if I was more interested in him and if there were a spark – I wouldn’t see why not. “Buck, I don’t think we’d be happy together if we got married.”
“But we’re close!” he exclaims, whining as he covers his entire face with his hands. “We’d be perfect together, and your Dad would even approve of us.”
“You aren’t wrong there, but I just can’t. It won’t work out.”
I let our deep silence sink in and waited for his response, growing anxious as the minutes ticked away because he hadn't said anything to relieve me. He sighed and held my hand together as he brought it to his rough lips, and I shuddered. Not in a good way.
"One day," he said, as if marking his word, "I'll ask you again; you'll be happy with me, I promise you."
It was preferable to upsetting him, so I simply nodded and smiled.
"Sure," I said innocently as I rested my head on his shoulder.
NATASHA’S POV:
“Yeah baby, fuck me harder!”
I couldn’t take my eyes off of my computer as I fuck into Y/n’s teddy bear, using it as my fleshlight since I don’t have all of my toys in this house. I shut my eyes tightly and grip the teddy harder as I fuck into it, which reminds me to stitch up the toy once I come inside of it.
"Do you like it, princess?" In the pornographic video I'm watching, the man cooed as he fucked the woman in a missionary position. I sighed heavily, imagining the teddy bear's walls to be Y/n's instead; she was always tight. Tighter, I've never fucked a woman so tightly. Slowly, I pulled away from the hole and rammed back in with a loud moan – hopefully, Steve wouldn’t hear me.
“Feel so good,” I muttered, fucking the toy harder against the mattress. I'd hide under my covers if Y/n saw me right now. It would be embarrassing enough for a young girl to see an older woman this aroused, sexual, and desperate. Though, could I blame myself? With those skimpy shorts and batting eyes, I could not resist. “So tight around me, want to cum in you…”
“Want to breed you, slut. Want this dick far up your cunt.”
I wish it had been Y/n and me in that video instead. I wouldn't call her a slut, at least not without her permission. However, she appears to be the type who would enjoy a lot of dirty talking, including a lot of naughty words. I prefer calling her my little girl or bunny because I enjoy seeing her so small that I can comfortably fit my hand around her throat. I leaned into my pillow and tried to smell her scent as I got closer to my orgasm while fucking her teddy bear. I want you, I need you. I’ve never needed a woman like this in my life. Please be good for me. Let me use you. Let me teach you. I want you so much, baby. I want to be inside you and make you mine–
“Tasha, it’s time for–” my head turns quickly only to see a shocked Y/n standing between the doorframe, her mouth completely agape. I looked away from her out of embarrassment and pulled out my dick from the teddy bear, still hard from the images in my head. “Oh, I didn’t know you were doing that… with my teddy.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, which I was very much. How could she find it out this way? Now, I have no good explanation for her. “I just–I saw you with Bucky a while ago and got jealous.”
“Over him?” she asked with her tiny voice, which made my head spin, especially when she was on her tippy-toes. “And with my bear?”
I nodded, the shame beginning to drain from my veins. She smiled lightly at my confession and walked towards me, her slight belly protruding.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I was about to cover my hardened dick with a pillow, but she stopped my motions with her hand wrapped around my wrist. I was shocked at first, but suddenly I watched her kneeling on the ground with my legs prided for her to get scooted into. “Y/n, what are you doing? You know you don’t have to.”
“But I want to,” she offers, her eyes looking up at mine, and I could see how much she needed this moment. All I could imagine now was her mouth wrapped around the length of my cock, gagging and begging me to stop thrusting into her throat.
“Do you want me to do this, Tash?”
“But your dad–”
“He’s still cooking,” she cuts me off and looks at my dick, letting out a quiet gasp. I watch her intently, not knowing whether she’ll touch my penis. “D-Do you want this?”
I smiled as I ruffled the back of her hair and assured her, "Of course. I want this more than anything, and it’s just that… I’m huge.” both of you chuckled in the air as it did slowly, my cock twitching from her presence. “Y/n, if you don’t do anything now, I will–”
I threw my head back in the air as her lips encircled my tip and silenced me. I whispered, "F-Fuck baby, slow down," as I placed my hand over her head and groaned effortlessly.
“Mmph,” the vibrations from her mouth drive me insane. It was a wonderful feeling to feel like I had gained an additional inch. She licks the length of my dick at the slowest pace before whispering: “Does it feel good, Daddy?”
I muttered, "Uh-huh," and moved up to face her. Come on, baby, wrap your mouth around my dick. Make me feel good, please.”
She makes a loud pop! Sound and slowly pumps my dick while stretching my foreskin with her hand on my pelvis. After a short while, she wrapped her mouth back around my cock and resumed sucking it while simultaneously whining and gurgling. As I visualized ropes of my cum shooting into her throat while she begged for mercy, my eyes rolled back in my head. Oh, how she’d look so beautiful coated with my cum – all of me, truly me.
And not some man who would take advantage of my girl.
"That's it," I murmured, slowly raising my hips, hoping she wouldn't push me away. “Fuck, there you go, baby girl… "Do you like my cock in your mouth?" she asked, her eyes welling up with tears. "Do you want to choke on this dick?"
Another nod, another whimper from her – which makes me grin.
“Yeah?” I pushed her head into my mouth, her mouth engulfing my length, choking on my cock, and causing my abs to clench as her saliva coated me. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good, baby… makes me wanna fuck it.”
I secured my hands on both sides of her head and thrust upwards into her mouth, causing her to gag around my length.
"Yeah, what a little girl you are for me..." I muttered. “Have you got anything special? Baby, gag on my dick." she closed her eyes and allowed her throat to sink deeper into my dick, causing her to gag and sputter saliva on my stomach.
"This is some hot porno shit," I said, returning my gaze to the door to check for Steve. That wouldn’t be a good image. I use her head as my fleshlight, my fucktoy, and cry myself to oblivion, utterly dependent on her. “Oh, I’m fucking close, baby... You’ve never taken anything this big, huh? Take all of my cum, okay? Promise won’t hurt you… It’ll taste good, I swear.”
Perhaps I was becoming desperate because my sperm could never be that delicious. Though, that would be her decision on that because I've had a taste of mine, which isn't too bad.
I yanked her head out of her mouth and pressed my cock furiously, edging myself closer to my orgasm. I locked my gaze on her and imagined how often I would do this with her, and only with her. I can't even imagine how angry I'd be if I saw her fleeing with Bucky, the boy I despise. How could he possibly take her away from me? I went for her first; I saw her first. So, what gives him the right to be with her instead of me?
I realized I was envious and that I wanted Y/n all for myself.
“I’m cumming, baby! Take all of it–Fuck…” As I jerked myself off, I dropped ropes of cum into her mouth and more on her face. I bit my lip, drawing blood, but I didn't care. I was in heaven and felt that no one, not even Bucky, would intrude on my private session with Y/n. I relaxed as I entered her mouth, sighing heavily and collapsing against the bed.
Y/n walked to my bathroom and washed her mouth, which made my heart feel heavy.
Did she not like it? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt her? I jumped off the mattress and followed her, my eyes searching for her lost ones.
“A-Are you okay?” I asked, unsure if I'd gotten the words right. This was terrifying because I'd never seen a woman walk out on me before. “Y-Y/n, have I hurt you?”
She smiled at me tearfully and kissed my left cheek, whispering: “I’m okay, I promise.” before she could walk out on me again, I pulled her into a hug and kissed her lips passionately – I’m even shocked myself. She leaned into my touch, showing that she wasn’t scared of me; I knew that.
“I’ve never done that,” she quietly admitted, hiding her face into my cleavage as I chuckled.
“I know, baby girl.”
She whispers again, “Did I hurt you?” I shook my head. “Good, I only wanted to make you feel good.”
I wish you knew how passionate I am about you because you compel me, Y/n. You are the light of my day, the poem of my diary. If you knew how much I liked you, you would’ve known how much I starve for you. I hunger for your feelings and want to see if you feel the same way.
I’m an utter mess.
“We have to go,” she mumbles, pulling away as she wipes her mouth with a paper towel – giving me a sheepish smile. “See you downstairs?”
I sighed happily, nodding at her.
“See you downstairs, darling.”
Y/n’s POV:
The stars were bright at this hour, and I couldn't stop staring at them. But I was distracted by the pool splashing and my friends cheering on my other friend. I didn't realize I was drunk until I felt heavy and needed to go home, but I was too exhausted to do anything about it.
Bucky approached me with a mischievous smile and wrapped his arm around his shoulder; I could smell old whiskey in his mouth, along with a mixture of tuna sandwiches Mj had made for us. “Are you having fun, my daisy?”
My Daisy. How much I despise that nickname.
“Swell, if you asked me.”
He knew I was already drunk, not even tipsy at this point. But he pulled me closer into his muscular body and brought me back to the table, watching as Peter kissed Mj hard. He wasn’t usually like that, which was strange for me to witness.
“Wow, you must be that drunk, huh?” I asked goofily, sitting beside him. Peter smiled like a proud horndog and screamed, “This is the best party ever! So happy that I’m with my best buds, including you, Y/n.”
“Ha-Ha,” I let out a fake laugh and chugged down another beer that Bucky owned, which made me realize how much I had drunk in the last four hours. I imagine what Natasha’s messages would look like, a statement that goes: I’m going to kill Bucky if he hurts you or Please let me pick you up at least.
I opened my phone, and I was right.
Natasha (1:05 am) - Baby? Are you okay? Where are you?
Natasha (1:15 am) - Is Bucky there? How are you? Please respond to my text.
Natasha (1:30 am) - I can’t sleep without knowing you’re okay. Please open your messages.
*4 missed calls from Natasha*
Did I decide to respond to her? Yes, but my phone suddenly died, making me groan out of frustration. MJ asked, “What’s in your reckless mind right now, Y/n?”
“My phone died.” I muttered, causing everyone to laugh.
“Is it her?” he asked. I turned away from MJ and looked at Bucky with my heavy-lid eyes instead. “Natasha… is she the one texting you?” could he possibly see my texts? That would be embarrassing enough.
“Y-Yeah,” I said, shaking my head in response. “She’s just worried, that’s all.”
Peter cuts in, “Is she like your girlfriend or something?”
“That’s her aunt,” Bucky said, his arms still wrapped around my shoulder uncomfortably. “Plus, why does she care so much? It’s not like she’s your mother.”
“Yeah, b-but that’s been my aunt since I was just a kid.”
“Still,” he shrugs, rolling his eyes. Was he jealous? “That’s your aunt, nothin’ special, you know?”
Possibly, he’s right. Perhaps my feelings for Natasha were never unique in the first place, and it's just unfortunate that they've been revealed. The question is, does Natasha feel the same way about me? Could we have feelings for each other but not express them?
Is it better to speak or to die?
I rested my forehead against the table and muttered a few words, “I wanna go home, M’really wanna go home.”
“She’s a lightweight,” Mj snickered, taking a photo of me and saving it to her gallery. “Bucky, why don’t you take her home? Too bad we didn’t dance and grinded up against each other. Would’ve loved that, especially with Y/n.”
Bucky glared at her and tightened his arm around me, saying: “You better watch your mouth, Jones.”
“What? I’m just saying–”
“I’m taking you home,” he helped me onto my feet and walked out of the gate, with my other arm slung around his shoulder as we slowly treaded back into his car. “Glad you’re with me instead of her; you don’t know what she could do to–”
“I think I should be taking her home.”
I looked up from my chin and saw Natasha leaning against her car with her arms folded, looking mysterious and nonchalant. I couldn't stop approaching Natasha with open arms, nuzzling my head into her neck. She strokes my back with her hand, her gaze fixed on him.
It was going to be a rough night.
“What happened?” she asked with a deep, unfiltered voice – her hand stroking my hair now. Bucky sighed and scratched his head, unsure if he could escape this situation.
“We got pretty drunk, okay? You must be Natasha?”
“Yeah,” she mutters, almost giving him a death glare. “And you are?”
“You should know me by now, but I’m Bucky. But, call me James, though.”
“I don’t really plan to, son.”
I could hear what they were talking about, but I was too tired to speak. I whispered to her, “Can we please go home, Tash?”
“Tash?” he repeated, almost in mockery. “What is this, high school?”
“Look who’s talking,” Natasha said, hugging me tighter. “You should go home, James. Your parents must be worried about you.”
“You don’t have to care much about me, Ms. Natasha. I can take care of myself.”
“Yet, you did not take care of Y/n. Aren’t you responsible for her? You know, since you’re her best friend and all that.”
Things were heating up, and Natasha, knowing herself, was about to unleash her unnecessary rage on the boy, which she did not want to happen. Instead, she forced me to sleep in the backseat of her car while giving Bucky a hard pat on the shoulder and looking at him with cold eyes. "Drive safely, James," she says as soon as she gets into her car.
“You too, Ms. Natasha.”
Natasha didn't say anything to me the entire night, and I understood why. I didn't give her a heads-up that I was going to have a drink with my friends, which was my first drink with them. She was now involved in my mess, but she took care of me and brought me safely to my bedroom.
I only remembered her kissing my shoulders while forcing me to wear a new shirt and pants, whispering things like, I don't want you getting into trouble. My heart beats faster whenever she mentions her feelings for me.
“Are you mad at me?” I slurred as she shook her head, tucking me in. “Tash, are you mad at B-Buck?”
Natasha looked at me for a minute and nodded slowly, kissing my forehead as her hand soothed my right upper arm.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. It’s nothing.”
“But it’s–”
“Shh,” she presses her index finger against my lip as she smiles, turning off the lamp on my bedside table. “Go to bed, little girl. We will talk tomorrow.”
I wish I could shout my affection for you, Y/n.
taglist: @trans-wolf-boi @generousfartdragon @marvelogic @that-one-gay-mosquito @wandanotsosure
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha angst#natasha romanoff smut#black widow x reader#black widow x you#i want you series
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Sun to Me
If there is one thing Bucky Barnes remembers about his mother, it is that she told him to find someone who plants flowers in the darkest parts of him. If there is one thing Bucky Barnes knows about Reader, it is that they grow him to the clouds.
A/N: Okay, so. (1) Thank you all so much for the incredible response to my last fic, "Timeless." It's given me the motivation to keep writing fics for y'all. (2) Apparently my inspiration strictly comes from music; thus this Zach Bryan "Sun to Me" inspired fic. Enjoy!
Genre: Fluff / WC: 1,049
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x G!N Reader
Rating: PG / Warning(s): N/A
Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to copy or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.
---
Children rarely grasp the concept of marriage when they're little. They understand that their parents get married because they love each other, and that's about as far as it goes. Children rarely grasp the concept of different types of love when they're little. They understand that their parents love each other, and they understand that their parents love them, but that's about as far as it goes. Bucky Barnes was no exception to this human truth when he was young. He remembers being 5 or 6--lifetimes ago--telling his mother he was going to marry her. He loved his ma: you marry the people you love.
Winnifred had gently taken her son in her arms, sitting on their solid living room couch.
"My darling boy," she had said, "you can't marry me. I'm your ma."
Bucky had made a face, protesting. "I love you, though!" He had argued with his mother. "You said people marry people they love."
"I did say that," Winnifred agreed, "but the way I love your father is different than the way I love you. You don't get it now, but one day, you'll meet someone wonderful. When you meet that person, you'll understand what I mean."
Bucky had made a face, scrunching his eyebrows together and biting his lip in confusion.
"James," his mother had said, "you'll find someone someday, somewhere that plants flowers in the darkest parts of you--someone who grows you to the clouds. You'll find someone who loves you the way I love your dad. I promise, sweetheart."
---
Bucky wakes to your alarm blaring--your third, if he counted right. He had woken up three times now to the blaring alarm that you have snoozed just as many times, not stirring more than you have to to pause the incessant noise. Bucky lie in your shared bed, staring at the ceiling and sure he would be unable to fall back asleep for a fourth time. Tiredly, he looked over to the digital clock on his nightstand, reading the taunting 5:32 A.M. in the aggressive red. Running a hand over his tired face, he is about to pull himself out of bed and start his day, but he looks beside him first.
There you are, fast asleep, ignoring every attempt your alarm makes to rouse you. He briefly thinks you're going to oversleep, but he also knows you set alarms earlier than you need to wake up to account for each time you hit snooze.
You're sprawled across your side of the bed, your legs tangling with his and arms tied around your pillow. It's only then that he realizes his legs have gone numb from being pressed beneath your own. He can't bring himself to care, though.
As he watches you sleep--your chest slowly rising and falling as you breathe--he smiles softly. He decides right then that anything he could possibly choose to do at 5:32 A.M. is not nearly as appealing as lying with his partner.
Bucky then rolls onto his side, letting his left arm wrap around you, pulling you close. He breathes in the smell of your shampoo, and he thinks it's something floral. The smell reminds him of his mother--a lifetime ago--telling him to find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of him. It's funny, he thinks, that a smell could pull out such a memory that the brainwashing and science experimenting had fought to erase completely, but he is glad it did.
He misses his mother for a moment. He had lost her so early on, but he remembers how he loved her, how she loved him. He remembers then how his mother had assured him the way they loved each other would be different than how he loves you. He can't help but laugh softly to himself. You were right, Ma, he thinks, I understand now.
You really are something special. You are the kind of person he thinks his mother would have loved. Your kind disposition, your intelligence, your strength: just you. You are the kind of person, too, that took his history, his scars, and his damaged heart and sowed a plentiful garden. You planted flowers in his soul where there had been thorns. You watered the sprouts every night to allow them to eventually bloom. You were there for every nightmare, every court appearance, every fight. You were there to pick up the pieces when he felt most broken. You were there to grow him to the clouds.
He hopes he has been the same for you.
A fourth alarm starts blaring, screaming for you to wake up. The fourth alarm takes the title as the final alarm as you clumsily grab your cellphone, looking at it just enough to turn it off. You drop your phone next to you on the bed before turning around in your lover's arms.
"Mornin', handsome," you say before letting out a yawn.
"Good morning, Doll," he replies easily, gently swiping a stray hair away from your eyes with his finger. "You know, you slept through 3 alarms this morning," he says with a teasing (albeit slightly annoyed) tone.
You groan. "I'm sorry."
"It's alright. Gave me time to just hold you."
You hum happily, leaning forward to softly kiss his lips. He happily reciprocates. When the two of you part, he smiles at you.
"I remembered something."
"Was it actually 4 alarms?" You ask playfully.
Bucky chuckles and leans his forehead against yours.
"Nah, it was just 3," he assures you. "I remembered something my ma told me."
"Oh!" You exclaim, a little surprised. "That's an early memory!"
He grins. "Yeah, it is."
"So? What'd she tell you?"
"She told me that somewhere, someday, I'd find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of me. Someone who grows me to the clouds. I was, like, 6, I think, so it made no sense when she said it to me."
You smile softly, letting your hand cup his face tenderly. You don't say anything, though, opting to let him share his newfound memory at his own pace.
"But I get it now. It took a literal century, but I get it now. You're the person Ma told me I'd find."
"Can I tell you a secret, Buck?"
"Anything, Doll."
"I love you, too."
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader fluff#marvel x reader#marvel fanfiction#bucky x you#bucky barnes#bucky x g!n reader#bucky x male!reader#bucky x female!reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky fanfic#winter soldier#the winter soldier#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n
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Crash & Burn - Chapter 3
The one where Bucky is your father best friend, and the man you want to take your virginity.
Bucky is losing everything: his wife, his business, his house. And when his best friend is too busy to offer him the support he needs, you offer him your ear and shoulder. He wouldn't find it too bad that getting closer to you made him see you with new eyes, if it wasn't for the one thing you asked in return: you want him to be the first man to ever fuck you.
For general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.
Bucky’s P.O.V.
“Bucky? Oh, thank God?” Eyebrows furrowed, I immediately sat up straighter on the bed, instinctively reaching for my car keys once I detected the panic in her voice. “I… I hate to disturb you, I know it’s pretty late but…”
“Text me the address,” I interrupted her, scrambling off the bed and almost falling on my face in the process. I made a mental note - don’t try to put on sweatpants while on the phone with someone, but for now, this would have to do. “Do you want me to stay in line with you while I drive?”
My heart was pounding as I waited for her answer. I could hear the sounds of the party she’d gone to in the distance, but it was muffled - like she was hiding from it behind a door or something.
“I’d like that.” Silently thanking the heavens for her answer, I rushed to get to the house she was in as quickly as possible. I would have trusted her safety if she’d chosen to hang up, but that didn’t mean my mind wouldn’t race. I was used to jumping to the worst conclusions, and this particular situation didn’t exactly help me reason with my anxieties.
A loud crash came from the other line, startling me as I put on my seatbelt. “Are you okay?” It took her a little while and the most adorable giggle preceded her answer.
“Yeah… I just stumbled and fell over a plant. But she’s okay, I guess.” I could just picture her, petting the leaves of the greenery she’d accidentally disturbed. God, she was adorable.
“Are you drunk?” It suddenly occurred to me, and I was already chuckling by the time her “Please, don’t tell my dad” came. “Honey, you’re in grad school. Your dad won’t care if you had a couple of drinks on a Friday night.”
“Oh, right!” Shaking my head, I focused on the intersection I was about to cross while making a mental note to talk to her about how much she drank tomorrow. I really didn’t care about her consuming alcohol - she was a grown-up, after all - but she should never get drunk near people she didn’t trust, and it seemed like this had been precisely what had happened tonight.
“Are you close?” I considered the route the app was showing me.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon.” She seemed to calm down at my answer, but that was only until someone started to bang on the door I assumed behind which she was hiding.
“C’mon, baby! I know you’re in there. Come out, let’s have some fun together.” My palms were sweaty as I gripped the stirring wheel tighter, grinding my teeth at her sharp inhale of breath. I hated that she was scared because of some dumb boy and there was nothing I could do about it…
Yet.
“Hold on…” I muttered under my breath, knowing she’d never heard me over the ruckus he was causing. If only this car could move faster…
Y/N’s P.O.V.
I tried to make myself smaller, hoping the wall would somehow swallow me and hide me from the guy on the other side of the door. If I’d known this is what Peter would become with a few beers in him, I’d never have agreed to come to this party in the first place.
I could already feel a headache forming and I wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow morning. I knew I would wake up hungover and most definitely regretful of every decision that led to this moment, but for now, all I could care about was that Bucky was coming and he’d take me far, far away from this evening and everything that had happened.
“Please, be quick…” I whispered, clutching my phone against my chest as I watched Peter fumble with the knob until suddenly, he stopped.
It all stopped, actually. His yells, the sounds of the music from outside, it all came to a screeching halt and my heart sped up in anticipation as I approached the door with careful steps.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Yep, that was James. Feeling safe enough to open the door now, I unlocked it and spied the outside, finding the party had stopped to watch the much older gentleman who’d suddenly appeared give the owner of the house his ass on a silver platter. “No means fucking no, haven’t you ever learned that?”
He turned around and his eyes met mine, almost as if he’d noticed me staring. But if I was hoping for my presence to ease his anger somewhat, it seemed to have the opposite effect, completely.
“What did he do?” It took a minute for my inebriated mind to make sense of what he was asking, but once I did, I didn’t know how to answer it.
“I can’t repeat the kind of stuff he said.” I shook my head emphatically, refusing to relive the haunting things Peter had whispered in my ear once he’d cornered me into a room. I watched as he had the guts to try to defend himself, only to shut his mouth with a glance from the man in the room.
“I’m not talking to you.” It was all he said, and Peter immediately cowered. A shudder ran down my spine at the roughness in his tone of voice, but I wasn’t scared. “Was it dirty?” Again, it took me a few seconds.
“There’s dirty and then there’s just straight down nasty.” I shrugged, trying to fake nonchalance even though the mere memory of what Peter had said made me want to hide my face behind my hands. But I was an adult - Bucky had said so himself.
I shouldn’t be hiding, so I didn’t.
Bucky leaned closer to Peter, taking advantage of the grip he still had on his shirt. I hadn’t even noticed it until their noses were all but touching. “If I ever even imagine she’s had to put up with any shit from you anymore, I’ll make you wish you were never even born. Got it?”
Oh, wow. That was hot.
I didn’t even notice the giggles all around us - or the frown on Bucky’s face. All I could focus on was how warm his hand felt when it clasped around my wrist, right before he started tugging me towards the exit.
“Let’s go.”
#my series#crash & burn#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#fluff#bucky barnes x reader#father's best friend au#dad's best friend
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