Not Only Is It Halloween Time It’s Also My Birth Month So Let’s Go

Oh wow. this is just. wow.

A beefy!Bucky happy trail.

That’s it.

That’s the post.

I did not ask to be attacked on this Sinday. In my house. In front of my innocent followers. Also.....NSFW thoughts below. But soft NSFW.

Rain patters against the window, creating a soft steady drum that fills the peaceful, hushed room.

All you hear is his heartbeat under your ear, his warm skin on your cheek, your hand tracing along the firm planes of his stomach. You know each scar and mole on his body, a story written on his skin, your own personal map of Bucky.

It’s been hours of the two you wrapped around each other. You never want to leave this bed, the soft linen sheets tangled around his waist, your own bare legs stretched out next to him. You giggle when you realize that he’s snagged every sheet. Again.

Bucky is a blanket hog-no matter how many duvets and sheets you layer on at night, they all end up around him-you don’t complain, he’s warm enough to make up for it.

Any protest about you needing just one sheet Bucky withering away when he draws you into his side tucking you right under his bearded chin, a heavy warm arm draped over your waist, his deep voice in your ear, all sleepy and disoriented, mumbling that you’re just too far away, bunny, c’mere, I’m cold without ya.

Today has been one of those rare lazy days. No missions, no work, no phones, you turned off them before anyone could call. No need to make excuses for why you wanna stay in, you can save that for tomorrow. Sorry Sam, no brunch today, no Scott, you can’t borrow Bucky’s arm for Cassie’s show and tell.

The rain continues to drum on the rooftop; the skies fading to cloudy azure blues and grays, the light in the room dimming, as you continue to trace your finger up and down his belly. Across the soft tawny hair trailing to his growing bulge that’s not quite hidden by the heap of sheets gathered around his legs.

The pads of your fingers find the vein running down his stomach and you press softly, grazing it with the edge of your nail. His quiet hiss draws your eyes up, past his heaving flushed chest to his face.

Oh.

Bucky is giving you that look. The one that sends you spiraling headfirst into the abyss, the one that will have you agreeing to do anything if he just keeps looking at you like that.

He’s gazing at you, love and adoration darkening his blue eyes. He always says you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

And when his blue eyes settle on your face, his breath shuddering and he stares at you, enraptured as if he could fall to his knees and worship the ground you walk on.

When he can’t keep his hands off of you for more than a minute, when he seeks you out in a room full of people, drawn to your smile, your eyes, your laugh.

When he tilts your chin up, just to get a closer look and maybe sneak a kiss or two....well you have to believe him. How can you argue with that?

“Whatchu thinkin’ about Bunny,” he enquires, voice rough, gravelly breaking the silence, his hand drifting over the small of your back. You shiver at the feel of his calloused fingers on your skin.

Pursing your lips, your playful eyes flit between his relaxed face and the tent between his legs. “You.”

A grin stretches across his face, his bearded cheeks creasing as it widens until the corners of his eyes crinkle. You trace the vein down, down, down, unhurried, hearing the small hitch in his breath as you push your hand under the sheets, keeping you from him.

Flicking them away, you lick your lips at the sight of him. Hard and throbbing, a long vein making its way to the red, swollen tip. You draw your thumb across his head, smearing drops of precum down his shaft with a twist of your wrist.

Bucky chokes out your name when you do it again, his cock twitching under your light touch. Glancing back up at him, his blue eyes nearly black with lust and need, his lips parted as he takes a deep breath in.

You preen, your giant super-soldier coming undone at your touch is well-it’s intoxicating especially when you make him groan, his hips lifting off the bed as you stroke him.

“Thinking about how much I want you inside me, stretching me until I can’t take anymore,” you confess.

“Hold on, hold on,” Bucky reaches down, his fingers closing around your wrist. “That feels too good,” he chuckles, needing you to stop because if you keep touching him the way you are, this is going to be over before he can take care of you the way you deserve.

And Bucky never lets you down.

“Get on top and use me, bunny,” he states, his hands folding behind his head. "If you can handle all this," he jokes.

You narrow your eyes at him. You can handle him, maybe. Damn, he's big. The last time he pinned you down and fucked you swore he was in your chest, unable to even scream as he pounded you. You may have passed out. Yeah, you can handle him.

You swing your leg over his large thigh, grabbing his shaft with one hand, bracing yourself as you ease down his thick cock. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, feeling the slight burn as you take him in, your silken walls stretching around him.

It always takes a minute to get used to him, each inch makes you feel so full, soft mewls slip past your lips as he disappears inside you. Slapping your hands on his chest, you drop your head, breathing through your nose. He’s so deep, so deep, all you can feel is him.

Bucky smooths his hands up your thighs, massaging small circles with his thumbs, “take your time sweet girl, doing so good,” he praises.

You circle your hips, nails clawing at his chest at the first burst of sensations. He lets you set the pace, a slow steady rhythm that builds until you’re bouncing on him, your tits sway in front of his face, his hands running up and down and your thighs as he continues to praise you for taking him so well, fuck you feel so good bunny, you’re so tight bunny, you feel so soft, so good, that’s my girl.

Your legs burn, muscles shaking as you chase your high, you slip forward, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. You’re so close, but you can’t move fast enough, tears prick your eyes as you try. “Bucky please’-” you cry out.

“You need me, don’t you, Bunny?” he murmurs.

Bucky sits up, pulling you into his chest, your nipples brushing over his sweat-laced skin with each frantic roll of your hips. You place your hands on his back, biting down on his shoulder. All you can think is how good you feel, so good, drowning in pleasure as you let him take control. His massive arms wrap around your body as he meets your thrusts, pounding up into your fluttering walls, the bed shaking and creaking.

“Bucky, fuck, oh fuck yes right there, right-oh fuck,” you rasp out, a bead of sweat rolling your spine.

Bucky sweeps his lips across your shoulder, peppering kissing along your neck, nipping and sucking bruises on your throat, you’ll proudly wear his marks for days his steady deep pace making you cry out. His name slurred on your tongue as the spring gets tighter and tighter.

Bucky wrenches your head back, biting your throat until you whimper his tongue soothing the small marks left behind. His feral eyes roaming over your pretty face with pride. He’s not going to stop until he sees you fall apart.

“I got you, bunny. Let go for me, go on, I got you,” he grunts, his lips slotting over yours. His grip tightens when a deep thrust hits your sweet spot so hard your body goes rigid.

“There you go, cum for me, cum for me,” he chants, his needy words muffled as he deepens the kiss, the feel of his wet tongue gliding past your parted lips drives you over the edge.

You keen, a high thin sound that makes Bucky smirk, your slick walls clenching over his cock, greedily pulling him back. Your hips jerking rapidly over him as your orgasm hits you, the tight spring coiling in your belly shatters.

Bucky groans in your ear, clutching you to his warm body as he pounds into your spasming cunt. It’s too much, yet you want more, the potent pressure building again. His face buried in your neck as his thrusts become erratic, warmth spreading in your pussy as he cums, his fingers rubbing your clit, “one more, bunny, need ya to cum one more time, “breathed into your skin until you wantonly sob, your body trembling as another weaker orgasm washes you over.

“Good girl,” he pants, lifting his head up, his lips moving over your jaw. More soft kisses peppered along your skin, his mouth slotting over yours passionately, languidly until you’re dizzy.

Breaking the kiss with a pleased sigh, he leans back on the sheets, keeping you flush against him, arranging your limp body over his.

“Let’s stay like this,” he hums when you sit up. “I’ll get you cleaned up and fed in a minute, just wanna feel you wrapped around me, bunny.”

You can do that. All night if he wants.

You smile, laying back on his chest, you card your fingers through his damp hair. The sounds of the rain pelting on the rooftop fading away as you listen to his deep voice telling you how much he loves you.

oh my god pls more football bucky idk why but i love him

assistant!reader trying to talk to a news anchor about how an interview is gonna go and qb!bucky wont stop bothering her?

assistant!reader:

pic frm @ixalit

Pairing: QB!Bucky x grumpy Assistant!Reader

CW: Future smut, 6'5" beefy Bucky. Switch!Bucky.

A/n: Written on my phone, unbetad.

Thanks to months of cultivating working relationships with various members of the press, you’ve developed a repertoire with many of them, allowing you to tactfully nativagte their egos while skillfully dictating how and when his interviews happened.

Bucky is naturally charming and outgoing, but you’ve witnessed how quickly and viciously the media can turn on anyone.

You refuse to let that happen to Barnes.

No matter how aggravating he is.

Instead of listing off the things that are off-limits, you’re requesting, disguised as subtle pleading, the topics you want to be discussed.

His upcoming game. His elusive new contract with Patek Philippe. Charity work. Can’t forget the charity work. Bucky gives a lot of time and money to the local children’s hospital. He had an entire wing completely renovated last year and only a handful of people know how generous he is.

You think it’s time that people know he’s more than just a pretty face.

“Hey,” Bucky whispers loudly, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Can we talk about my new car? That baby is sweet. I can’t wait to take you for a drive. You’re going to say yes one of these days. I know it. Matter of fact, let me take you for a quick ride after the game, we can get something to eat and—”

“No.” You hiss, swiftly turning back to an amused Jessica, plastering a cheerful, too-wide grin on your face. “Okay so—”

“Can we talk about Alpine?” He continues, unperturbed. His fingers tapping along the side of your arm as he moves closer to you. “I got some new pics and you know the fans love her. She misses you, by the way.”

His cologne drifts down in a hazy mix of smoky cedar, spiced orange, and vanilla. Don’t inhale. Don’t inhale. He smells incredible and the last thing you need is for him to know that.

“Barnes. Shut up.” You’re tempted to elbow him in his stomach but the last time you did that, you hit his rock-solid abs and were left with a sore elbow. And of course Bucky decided to strut around your office without a shirt on because he claimed his poor muscles were too tender to have anything on them.

“Okay,” he responds, moving just a little closer, his beard grazing the side of your neck as he gets comfortable. He’s so large and warm and a traitorous part of you doesn’t want to push him away.

“What if we talk about how you should go out with a certain lonely quarterback? You know the cute one with the hair you like to pu—” Without looking, you grab his jaw and squeeze his cheeks until his lips purse and his words taper off into a light chuckle.

“I think that should cover everything,” you grit out between clenched teeth.

Jessica is eating every second of this up. Your relationship with Bucky has been an endless source of entertainment for her. She commends you for your resilience because she was sure you were going to give in months ago.

There’s a pointed gleam in her eyes that makes yours narrow. She bites back a smile and glances down at her screen. “So the new campaign, his charity work, and the upcoming season.” The list is ticked off with a tap of her nails on her phone. “Got it. I’ll be in the media room after the game.”

Jessica turns and makes her way out of the locker room.

“Thank you.” A relieved smile graces your lips and you start to push Bucky away, only to freeze at her next words.

“And Barnes,” Jessica says, one hand on the doorknob, “I want dibs on all engagement and wedding interviews. You two are going to make a beautiful couple.”

“Excuse me?” You splutter, your head whipping around to stare at him. Your fingers lift as a grin stretches across Bucky’s lips, his cheeks jutting out. “We’re not—”

“It’s yours,” he shouts, waving at her as the door closes behind her.

You release him, arms folding across your chest. “We’re not a couple Barnes and we are definitely not dating. Also, I can drive myself to the hotel after the game.” You inhale, taking a step forward to poke him in his chest. “And another thing, I do not like pulling your hair.” That's a lie, you loved it. And you keep thinking about the way he moaned that day and you desperately want to hear that sound again. Not that you’ll ever admit it. Instead, you continue on, steeling your gaze. “And you better not--“

Bucky’s grin widens, his tongue running across his bottom lip as he gazes down at you, listening to you ramble. If you only knew that he could listen to you read the dictionary and he would hang on to your every word.

“Yet,” he breathes out when you pause mid-rant to poke him again. “Not a couple yet. Give me time ‘cause I’m already yours. We just gotta work on making you mine.”

His confidence is bold and smooth and undeniably sexy. You’re scrambling to rebuild your defenses and find a quick retort when he saunters toward the showers.

“Not going to happen, Barnes,” you manage to get out, your tone lacking its usual bite.

Bucky turns, walking backward without breaking his stride, his darkening gaze so full of heat and promises that you feel it on your skin. He winks, eyes drifting down your body in one exhilarating caress. “And I can’t wait to show you just how good I can be for you.” 

Part 1: The Hair Incident

🤌🏻🤌🏻 bucky is just so 😫

— Wash Away My Sins | B. Barnes

au; mob boss!bestfriend.

pairing; bucky barnes x reader.

summary; bucky barnes is your best friend and also one of the scariest mob bosses in the city. when he finds out that your current boyfriend has never pleased you, he takes it upon himself to show you what you deserve.

word count; 2.7k.

warnings; smut [oral (f), fingering, p in v, bondage (tie around neck), rough sex], language, angst [cheating, confessing feelings], fluff.

Masterlist.

a/n; a repost because tags were down the first time.

Do NOT copy, repost, translate or rewrite my work.

— “and when they finally realized that they felt the same about each other, the stars aligned”.

Bucky smiles when he hears the familiar pattern of knocking on the door. He knows that you are on the other side and that lifts his mood up a ton. “Doll” he sighs when you walk in. 

“James” you speak back noting the white dress shirt he has on paired with black pants and a matching tie.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to knock”?

“I'm terrified at the thought of witnessing one of your middays hookups if I don’t” you joke as you grab the glass of whiskey from his desk and slump into the couch infront of it. 

“Sipping whiskey” he reminds you before he closes the file in his hand and gives you his full attention. “I take it you had a rough day”.

“Brutal”. You don’t hesitate.

“Who do I have to kill”? Neither does he.

Having been Bucky’s best friend for years now, you know the mob boss is dead serious when he asks the question. He’s always been protective over you and in a sense, you find it attractive.

“If theres a ‘me’ option i’ll gladly take it” you groan, putting the glass down on the table beside you. 

“What happened honey? Did they ID you downstairs again? Those fucking idiots. I don’t know how many times i'm going to have to tell them that you're free to enter until it gets through-” you cut off his rambleing with a wave of the hand.

“No its not- it’s not that James”. You let out another groan. You arent even sure if you should tell him whats going on. Bucky’s always found your boyfriends to be nothing but bothers. Always stating that they don’t deserve you, or that you could do better, or even as far as to say that he’s the only one who knows how to treat you right. You always dismissed his remaks -espessialy the last one- and thought of them as no more than a good friend being a good friend. After all, theres no way that Bucky feels the same way about you as you do about him. “It’s my boyfriend”.

“Bob”?

“You know what his name is”.

“Billy”?

“Elijah”.

“Whatever” he mumbles walking over to the couch you're on. “What’d he do”?

It’s not what he did, it’s what he didn’t do.

You shake your head, regretting even have bringing him up in the first place. “Nevermind, I shouldn’t even have mentioned it. I know how you feel about him”.

“That he’s a piece of shit who’s never going to deserve you? I was gonna feel that way about him whether you mentioned it or not”. His head tilts to the side when he notices that you have something on your mind that you really have to express. “Come on, doll – talk to me”.

You throw your head back and your hands fly at your face, wiping down it roughly. “It’s so fucking embarrassing though” you mumble into your fingers, looking at Bucky through the corner of your eyes for a reaction. His expression stays neutral. ”Thought we were at the point in our friendship where nothing was embarrassing”. Having to call what the two of you have a friendship almost makes him throw up. But what he has with you only is a friendship, and his hating it doesn’t change the reality of it.

You chuckle, head turning to look at him again. His features are soft and welcoming. Many people in the city wouldn’t be able to say that they’ve seen them on him but then again only you are the person who Bucky can be soft around. “It’s just me. Just your James” he says, as he takes your hand into his. “You can tell me anything”. 

You purse your lips together when he kisses the top of your hand. He really does mean that you can tell him anything because he can’t imagine anything as embarrassing as what you’re going through with Elijah. 

It’s killing you that you can’t tell him. You frown as you remember the time when you and Bucky were on a dinner date and you made him run to a corner shop when you got your period all of a sudden. Or when you were sick for a whole week and Bucky came over to take care of you, not a care about the bacteria he would harness from being around you. Or when he beat up that perv that catcalled you in the middle of the street, almost taking his life had you not been there to stop him. 

Bucky’s been there for you through thick and thin, surely he would be there for you now.

You take a deep breath and turn your body to face him completely.

“Elijah he… He's... He’s never…” Bucky patiently waits for you to spit it out.

“He’s never made me come" you blurt out all of a sudden, eyes snapping shut when you realize what you’ve done. Slowly opening your eyes, you cringe at Bucky’s reaction.

His eyes are squinted, his bottom lip is tugged under his teeth, and his eyebrows are furrowed tight. “I should’ve just shut up” you groan into your hands.

“No! No!” he speaks moving your hands from under you. “I just needed time to process”.

“Okay so…”?

“So I think he’s an ass”.

You roll your eyes as you get up. “See! I knew you were going to say something like that”!

Bucky pulls you back down. This time you're seated closer to him. “No honey like he’s actually an ass. What kind of a guy doesn’t know how to have sex”?

“Well… it’s not that he doesn’t know how to have sex”. Now Bucky’s confused. “He for sure comes. It’s just that he doesn’t make me”.

“That's not sex.” Buckys starts, voice monotone, disappointed that you don’t realize it. “Fucking someone and only making yourself come is doing half the job and half the job doesn’t count. So no, technically he doesn’t know how to have sex”. 

“Fine my boyfriend doesn’t know how to have sex!” you exclaim with your hands on your face again. “It wouldn’t even be a problem but I'm so fucking frustrated”. Sexually, you mean, but you decide that he can piece the puzzles together on that one.  

“I can only imagine” he chuckles. You look up at him with a frown. “Are you seriously laughing at my misery”?

“I mean, I don’t know what you expected from a pathetic excuse of a boy like him”. 

You have had it with Bucky laughing at your taste in men. “You know what James? I’m tired of you laughing at me and my choices so either do something about it or shut up”! A part of you feels bad that you are taking all of your anger out on him but there is some truth to your words. You do want Bucky to do to you what Elijah is supposed to. 

And he jumps at the offer.

He scoots closer to you, flesh hand making its way to hold your face. You melt in his touch. What you’ve been wanting for so long, you were getting. You were getting Bucky. Everything in you to go with it. To take what the universe was giving you but the thought of losing Bucky as a friend overweighed those suggestions.

“James” you breathe. “We can’t”.

“Why not honey”.? Bucky’s voice is low. He knows what you’re thinking “I want you”. His hand cradles your face softer than before but right as his face scoots a bit closer you drop your head to your neck.

His fingers guide you to look up at him again. The other hand moves your hair behind your ear. “James” you breathe out again feeling his thumb brush over your bottom lip. “Tell me you don't want it too baby” he starts, finger running along your jawline. “Tell me you don’t want this as bad as I do”. Your eyelids flutter when his eyes darken. 

“I don’t want to ruin what we have”. As hard as it is to, you turn your face away from him again but just as before his fingers make your eyes meet his again. “We won't ruin anything” he whispers, pressing his forehead onto yours.

“Promise,” you mumble, nose brushing against his.

“What”?

“Promise me that we’ll still hang out, and talk and won't avoid each other like they do in the movies”.

“I promise baby,” he whispers with a slight chuckle. “I promise”.

Hearing that you inch your face closer to his and close your eyes. Your lips collide and it's as if a bomb goes off. All other sounds drop away, all you can feel is his lips against yours, pressing just harshly enough to make you moan into them. He brings one hand to your back, pressing you closer to his body, feeling you fit perfectly against him. The other grabs the back of your head and moves swiftly between you're hair. “Take off your clothes sweetheart” he speaks against you when you give him a segway.

Your hands immediately grab the sides of your shirt and you lift the thin top over your head, tossing it with no care as to where it lands. Bucky pauses to take it all in. God did he adore your body. You start at his lips again as his hands quickly fall to your jeans. You both stand up to make it easier for them to come off.

“God sweetheart” he mumbles pulling the cloth downwards. “Did’ya have this shit tailored onto your body”?

You laugh at his impatience and the way you bite your bottom lip and look up at him through your lashes has him growing frustrated. He finally decides that it’s easier that he just rip them off.

“James!“ you yelp, eyes shot wide. “That was a new pair”.

“Relax” he insists, backing you up to sit on his desk. “After this, I’ll buy you the whole store if you’d like”. And hell does he mean it.

You smile when his lips attach to your neck and hand moves to unclasp your bra. “For now, take off your panties and put these on”.

And you don’t need to be told twice. In no time you’re sat at the edge of his desk, only wearing the dog tags he handed you and the spark in your eyes Bucky loved more than anything.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he speaks mostly to himself as he drinks the sight of you in.

“James. I need you so bad” you whimper, hand grabbing at his tie and pulling him closer.

“I know sweetheart. I know” he reassures, but instead pulling away and lowering himself in between your legs. 

You shiver when you feel his breath on your core. “Gotta make you feel good first”.

You bite your lip in anticipation and then all of a sudden feel his mouth on your cunt. His lips attach to your clit, sucking like everything depends on it, making one of your hands grip the back of his head and lace through his brown locks while the other grabs onto the desk behind you for dear life.

“James fuck!” you moan when you feel his tongue lap up your juices.

His eyes watch for reactions. Watch as your back arches off his desk and hips push closer into him. “Mmm” his hums send the sweetest of vibrations to your core making you hook a leg on his shoulder. He pulls the other one up too knowing that you're not going to be able to support yourself in a bit. “Oh shit! Feels so good…” you trail off when your vision starts to blur and the knot in your stomach starts to tighten.

When seeing you clench around nothing, Bucky thrusts two fingers into you and watches as your head is thrown back again, pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Good girl, just let it all out" he speaks, face detaching from you and coming up to meet your eyes. But you can’t look at him. Not when his fingers are moving in and out of you so fast that you’re seeing stars. His scent of pine and sandalwood fills your nostrils while you can hear him softly chuckling at how fast you’re coming undone by him.

“M’close” you whimper, head falling onto his shoulder. “Fuck please dont stop, m’so close”.

He leans his head against yours and works his fingers faster, bringing his thumb up to circle your clit again. “M’not gonna stop honey. Not until I have you makin a mess all over my fingers”.

That's the final push you need to tip over the edge. Your climax hits you so hard that you bite Bucky’s shoulder to keep yourself from yelling at the top of your fucking lungs. 

“Mmnfgh”!

Bucky moves his hand up and down the back of your head as you come down from your high. “Shhh. I know honey. I know”.

“James” you speak lazily as you loosen your jaw from his shirt. “That was the best I’ve fucking felt in a while”.

He smiles at you, brushing the sweaty hair away from your face. “I’m not done just yet baby. Turn around for me. Wanna be buried so deep inside this cunt that you forget your own name”.

You do as he says, leaning over his desk as he takes off his clothes. When you look over your shoulder Bucky is taking off his tie and loosening it. Next thing you know, he puts your head through the hole and turns it around. “What's this for?” you ask, watching him tighten it just a tad.

“It’s so that I can fuck you like Billy never could”. 

You smile, turning your head back to face the window. 

"Gimme a word honey" Bucky mumbles, hand spreading his pre cum down the rest of his cock.

Your eyes flutter closed when you feel his tip move closer to your entrance, “red.”

“You're so fucking wet baby.” He taunts you before pushing his cock inside you. He waits for a beat, allowing you to adjust to his size. "Gonna start moving now alright"?

"Please" you whisper, mouth hung slightly open.

His hips slowly start moving in and out of you and you whine loudly at the same time that he groans. Bucky relishes the feeling of your warmth around him, grabbing the tie around your neck and pulling slightly so that you're as close to him as possible. Your breath is shaky as you feel him fill you up. He feels so good inside of you and your hand swipes the papers off of his desk.

"Shit honey" he grits through his teeth. "Squeezin' me so good this tight little cunt".

"Keep going, James! Fuck keep going"!

He kisses down your back, smirking when a series of whimpers escape your throat. “Don't worry. I'm not stopping until it's stuck in your head that you're my little cum slut”.

And he's giving it to you like you want it; hard, fast and raw. It's definitely in your head that you're his alone.

You moan as he grabs your boobs and rolls your nipple between his fingers. "Agh so good" you mumble feeling yourself dangerously close to your orgasm. Bucky tugs on the tie harder. "Shhh. I got you honey. I got you".

With a few more thrusts, the knot in your stomach tightens and you fall over the edge. Your legs go limp and your body falls down. Luckily Bucky's arm stops you before you slam onto the wooden desk.

"James!" you scream, coming all over his cock. As you ride out your orgasm, Bucky comes too. You can feel his cock spasm inside of you his body falls on top of yours. With pleasure still coursing through you, you turn around to face him.

"That was fucking amazing," you tell James as you watch him pull up his pants.

He smiles while he buckles his belt, watching you sit down on his desk wearing nothing but his tie and dog tags around your neck. "You look fucking amazing".

For the next few moments, the two of you stare at each other knowing that what just happened was not only going to be a one-time occurrence.

— la fin.

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Taglist:

@mrsbarneswillseeyounow @radicalbilly-hq @sarlouk @literalangels @gaycrystalbitch @knight-core @marvelfan789 @hallecarey1 @hallecarey1 @1111zxc @captain-asthmatic @daddysfavoritesexkitten @daddysfavoritesexkitten @stylesmygucci @clarinette07 @terrormonster55 @capmanranger @tyoho8 @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @sunshineyrosie @billyseye

𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 [ 2 ]

Part One Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Sexual Innuendo/humour,Guy next door, situational comedy? Sexual Themes 18+ ONLY: fingering, cunnilingus, Bucky loves tiddies, dirty talk. Summary: Though you've become oddly close to SergeantBarnes, it's still difficult to act normal around him. A/N: I didn't think many would ask for a part two but here you go. divider by @cafekitsune

It was a peaceful evening in the apartment gym—or, at least, it was supposed to be. You had your plan: thirty minutes on the stair climber, some stretches, and you’d be out of there before any awkwardness could find you.

But then you heard it—the unmistakable sound of weights clanging, followed by a deep, low grunt that made your entire body freeze.

You glanced up, hoping against hope that it wasn’t who you thought it was. But, of course, there he was: Bucky, over at the hip thrust machine, setting up his weights directly in front of you. Perfect, you thought. Of all the machines in here, he has to pick the most… suggestive one.

Your eyes flicked back to the tiny screen on your machine. Stay focused, you told yourself. Don’t look. Just ignore him.

But the moment he started his set, you heard it—a low, powerful grunt that practically reverberated through the gym. You immediately bit down on your lip, forcing yourself to stare straight ahead, pretending you weren’t having flashbacks to his other kind of workouts.

Another deep grunt.

Your hands clenched the stair climber’s handles like a lifeline. Do NOT look, you told yourself, the mantra echoing in your mind. But your treacherous eyes slid sideways, just for a second, and you caught a glimpse of him, face focused, breaths heavy as he powered through each hip thrust. The guy was practically a one-man gym commercial.

You looked away, focusing on your steps—your very uneven, slightly panicked steps. It’s just a hip thrust, for crying out loud! Nothing unusual here, you told yourself, trying to stomp out the heat creeping up your cheeks. But every time he exhaled, your mind filled with images of… well, his other performances.

Then, in the middle of one of his reps, Bucky let out a particularly deep, guttural grunt that nearly threw you off balance. Your foot slipped, your rhythm stuttered, and in a moment of pure panic, you clutched the handles and stumbled forward, practically throwing yourself onto the machine.

“Shit!” you yelped, fumbling to regain your balance as your legs moved faster than your brain, desperately trying not to faceplant.

You heard Bucky chuckle, that low, infuriatingly amused laugh, and felt your cheeks practically ignite. You looked up, heart pounding, only to find him smirking in your direction, eyes dancing with mischief.

“Careful there, Y/N,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Stair climbers are brutal.”

“Oh, yeah, totally!” you squeaked, straightening up, trying to look like you meant to almost eat it. “Just… keeping things interesting. Got to keep the cardio exciting, you know?”

“Looks like it’s working,” he replied, wiping his forehead with a towel, his grin widening as he noticed your death grip on the machine. “You sure you’re good over there?”

“Oh, I’m… I’m great,” you lied, your face flaming as you tried to regain your composure. But he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Glad to hear it,” he said, voice way too smooth. He paused, then tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Gotta admit, though… this machine setup does feel a bit familiar.”

Your brain nearly exploded. Did he just—? He couldn’t mean… But his eyes sparkled with that infuriating, knowing look, and you knew exactly what he was hinting at. Your face went beet red as your foot slipped again, but this time you managed to catch yourself, narrowly avoiding another disaster.

“Uh-huh,” you said, laughing nervously, desperately trying to hold it together. “Well, enjoy your… uh, workout!”

“Oh, I am,” he said, chuckling softly. “Especially with the view.” He winked, setting up for another set while you tried not to spontaneously combust.

With one final, mortified glance, you turned your attention back to the stair climber, mentally swearing you’d never step foot in this gym again after this.

Since you survived the stair climber ordeal without faceplanting (barely), you decided it was time to move on. Somewhere—anywhere—that didn’t involve Bucky’s hip thrusts or his incessant, maddening smirk.

You zeroed in on the bench press. Safe, you thought, relieved. Just a standard exercise. Nothing suggestive, no chance of stumbling, tripping, or looking like a klutz. You grabbed the bar, took a deep breath, and mentally prepped yourself. Easy-peasy.

And then—because the universe simply refused to give you a break—you heard that all-too-familiar voice right beside you.

“Need a spot?”

You looked up and almost swallowed your tongue. There was Bucky, looming over you with that same damn smirk, wiping his hands on a towel like he was gearing up for some personal training session from your worst/best nightmares.

“Oh, uh… I—” you stammered, already feeling the heat creep up your neck. You’ve got this, you told yourself. Just let him help you. No big deal. You’re a mature, fully-functioning adult.

“Yeah, sure!” you squeaked, trying to sound normal as he stepped closer, positioning himself behind the bench. You laid back, gripping the bar, and immediately realized what a horrible, terrible mistake this was. You were now lying flat on your back, Bucky leaning over you, his face far too close as he focused on making sure you could lift the weight.

“You ready?” he asked, his face all business, but his lips still had that mischievous curve.

“Ready,” you mumbled, eyes darting anywhere but up at him, trying to ignore how absolutely awkwardly intimate this felt. You started your set, breathing steadily as you lifted the bar, determined to act as if this were a completely normal workout.

But then, midway through the reps, he leaned down a little closer. “By the way, did you check out my new video?”

Your hands nearly slipped. You fumbled the bar, barely catching it as your brain short-circuited. 

“W-What?” you managed, voice strangled, heart racing.

“My new video,” he repeated, casually reaching out to help guide the bar back into place as you struggled not to lose it. “Thought you might’ve seen it by now.”

Your cheeks flamed, but you somehow managed to choke out, “N-No! I… I haven’t seen it!”

Bucky chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow as he straightened up, his voice taking on a teasing, almost disappointed tone. 

“Oh. That’s a shame,” he said, smirk lingering. “Didn’t have a costar this time—just me, actually. First time I’ve ever done that.”

Your mouth dropped open. Just him? Your brain skidded to a halt. Suddenly, you were far too interested in a video you’d just denied seeing. 

“Oh, um… interesting?” you squeaked, trying to keep your face neutral but definitely failing.

“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug, looking at you with twinkling eyes. “Guess you’ll have to let me know what you think… whenever you get around to it.”

“Actually, I… uh… I kind of stopped watching… since we, you know… know each other. Just… feels awkward.”

Bucky’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up with amusement. 

“Oh, so you’re telling me we’re too close for you to watch my work now?” He raised an eyebrow, looking mockingly offended. “I thought we were supporting local artists.”

Your cheeks practically combusted as he said it, and you fumbled with the bar, desperately trying to pretend you hadn’t heard him. Supporting local artists? Was he serious right now?

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, absolutely mortified. “This is not— You’re not— I mean…!”

But he just looked down at you, that smug grin firmly in place as he leaned in, clearly enjoying every second of your flustered state. 

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Don’t you believe in supporting the arts?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, words completely failing you. “This… this is not the same!” you finally blurted, clutching the bar like it was your only lifeline.

“Oh really?” he replied, chuckling. “Because it sounds like you’re saying we’re too close for me to keep doing what I do. You know, my passion.”

You practically choked, waving your hands around in frantic denial. “No! No! That’s not— I’m not stopping you! I’m just— I don’t know, maybe supporting from a… distant, supportive spiritual place?”

He laughed outright, shaking his head. “So, what—you’re like cheering me on… but from across the street?”

You nodded vigorously, still trying to save face. “Exactly! Just… supportive… but in a non-participatory kind of way.”

“Got it,” he said, smirking. “So, I’m officially your guilty pleasure now.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as he chuckled, clearly far too pleased with himself. 

Note to self: Avoid all future conversations with Bucky Barnes for the rest of eternity.

× × × × 

That evening, you were finally settled at your dining table, a bowl of pasta in front of you, determined to put the entire gym disaster behind you. You’d survived another encounter with Bucky—barely—and now all you wanted was some quiet, non-embarrassing time with carbs.

But as you twirled your fork in the noodles, your brain betrayed you, replaying his words from earlier.

“Did you check out my new video?”

You paused mid-bite, the fork hovering near your mouth as you stared blankly at the wall, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and dread bubbling up. What could he have meant by “just me”? You tried to shake it off, forcing another forkful of pasta into your mouth. Nope, not going there.

But the thought lingered, nudging you, until you found yourself setting down the fork, fingers hovering over your phone. Just one quick search, you reasoned, glancing around your empty apartment as if someone might catch you.

You typed in the familiar site, thumbs hesitating above the search bar, nearly typing “SergeantBarnes new video” before you snapped back to reality, dropping the phone like it burned.

“Oh, no,” you muttered to yourself, horrified at how close you’d come. “Absolutely not. What am I, insane?”

You shoved another forkful of pasta into your mouth, shaking your head furiously. “I am not doing this.”

But as you continued eating, your eyes kept darting back to the phone, the curiosity gnawing at you, leaving you torn between common sense and the very persuasive power of nosiness.

You took a deep breath, clenching your fists. “Get a grip, Y/N. You are absolutely not watching that video.”

...But maybe just a preview?

You groaned, stuffing your face with more pasta, determined to win this internal battle.

× × × ×

The next morning, just as you were heading out the door for work, you spotted something bright and obnoxiously neon-colored taped to the wall near the mailboxes. Curiosity got the better of you, and you stepped closer, squinting at the bold, glittery letters.

POOL PARTY THIS WEEKEND! it proclaimed. Food, drinks, music, fun! Don’t miss it!

You raised an eyebrow, debating if you’d actually brave a building-wide party when suddenly, the quiet hallway was shattered by a loud, unmistakably ecstatic moan. The kind that could only mean one thing.

From none other than Bucky’s apartment.

You froze, eyes widening in disbelief. Is that—? Is he—?

A second moan, even louder than the first, confirmed it. This wasn’t just any moan; this was the sound of someone—some woman—having the time of her life. At what had to be eight o’clock in the morning.

“Oh, seriously?!” you hissed under your breath, glancing down the hallway as if there might be witnesses to this auditory ambush. Just then, the woman’s voice hit a pitch so high it practically reverberated off the walls.

You winced, clutching your bag like it could somehow shield you from this. Who even has that much energy in the morning? You took a step back, hoping to escape the sonic nightmare, but the moans only got louder, each sound more animated than the last.

You threw your hands over your ears, eyes squeezed shut as you muttered furiously to yourself. 

“Nope, nope, absolutely not. Not today, not right now.” You spun on your heel, practically power-walking down the hall, doing your best to drown out the soundtrack blaring from his apartment.

“YES, SERGEANT! OH MY GOD!”

You practically stumbled, muttering an alarmed, “Oh my god, stop!” as you picked up the pace, pressing your hands even harder against your ears. It was like some kind of cruel game—the closer you got to the elevator, the louder it seemed to get, echoing in your ears like a siren you couldn’t escape.

You winced, feeling your face burn as you all but sprinted down the hall, chanting, “Nope, nope, NOPE!” under your breath like a mantra. It was as if your feet couldn’t carry you fast enough, each step a desperate attempt to put some distance between you and… whatever was happening in that apartment.

Finally, you made it to the elevator, slamming your finger against the button with more force than necessary, glancing nervously over your shoulder as if the sounds might follow you. The doors mercifully slid open, and you dove inside, leaning back against the wall and pressing your hands over your ears one last time, breathing a sigh of relief.

But just as the doors began to close, one last triumphant shout echoed down the hallway, loud and clear, like the universe had decided you hadn’t suffered enough.

You groaned, staring up at the ceiling as the doors shut, wondering if this building had any quiet hours, or if you were doomed to start every morning with a full-blown soundscape of… Bucky’s extracurricular activities.

Note to self: Invest in earplugs. Maybe some noise-canceling headphones. Or a new apartment altogether.

× × × ×

You arrived at work looking like you’d barely survived a natural disaster. Traumatized, sleep-deprived, and still hearing the morning’s very loud soundtrack echoing in your mind, you slumped into your chair, hoping to quietly blend into the office scenery and get through the day in peace.

Naturally, that was too much to ask.

“Whoa,” Trish said, swiveling in her chair to eye you like you were a science experiment gone wrong. “You look like you just spent a night in a haunted house.”

“Or… like you had a wild morning,” Amy added, raising her eyebrows. “You okay there, Y/N?”

“Fine,” you muttered, barely making eye contact as you set your bag down, trying to erase the vivid flashbacks of Bucky’s… extremely enthusiastic co-worker.

Before you could even recover, Trish leaned in, her grin spreading like wildfire. “Sooo… did you finally get around to watching Sergeant Barnes’ new video?”

Your head snapped up, heart stopping in your chest. “Wha—no! Why would I… I mean… I—”

“Oh, come on,” Amy said, nudging you like she’d just caught you in a guilty pleasure. “You don’t know what you’re missing. He’s alone in this one.” She leaned closer, adding in a stage whisper, “The man has talent.”

“Uh-huh,” Trish agreed, nodding like a sage. “No costars this time. Just him, going all in. It’s… impressive.”

You clutched the edge of your desk, mentally scrambling for any kind of response that would shut them down without revealing the secret you swore you’d take to the grave: that Sergeant Barnes was actually your neighbor.

You swallowed, managing to squeak out, “You know we’re in an office, right? As in, the place we do work?”

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re all professional now!” Trish smirked, crossing her arms as she gave you a knowing look. “You were all too eager to do some ‘research’ when we told you about him the first time.”

“Yeah!” Amy joined in, her grin absolutely diabolical. “You should be thanking us! The way you’re looking right now, I’d bet you already took a look this morning.”

You spluttered, mortified. “No! I mean, of course not! It’s just—this is… inappropriate.”

Amy snorted, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh, sure. And here I thought you had a little curiosity.”

You glared, fully prepared to tell them off, but Amy cut in first, smirking as she leaned over your desk. 

“C’mon, Y/N, it’s just us girls. Tell me you don’t have some curiosity about what the man can do when it’s just him and the camera.”

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, struggling to keep your cool. “No, I’m not curious! Not at all. And maybe you two shouldn’t be either, because, oh, I don’t know… WE ARE AT WORK!”

They both cracked up, sharing a delighted high-five as you buried your face in your hands, praying for the ground to open up and swallow you.

“Oh, we’re just messing with you,” Trish said, barely holding back laughter. “But seriously, girl… you look like you need to unwind. Maybe with a drink or… you know… a little quality screen time?”

“Or maybe someone live and in-person?” Amy chimed in, waggling her eyebrows.

You groaned, face down on your desk, cursing the fact that they would never, ever know the full story.

× × × × 

You stepped into the lobby, utterly drained from the day, just as the elevator doors began to slide shut. Without a second thought, you bolted, slipping in right before they closed. Only then did you realize the universe was playing tricks on you.

Because standing right there, with a half-smirk on his face and way too much knowing mischief in his eyes, was Bucky. Alone.

You froze, instantly regretting every choice that had led to this moment. But it was too late now, so you plastered on a polite smile and tried not to look like a deer caught in headlights.

Bucky’s eyes twinkled as he took you in, leaning casually against the side of the elevator as he said, “Tired?”

You laughed, and before you could stop it, the laugh turned into a borderline deranged chuckle. 

“Oh, yes, thank you very much,” you replied, sarcasm slipping out before you could rein it in. Then, muttering under your breath but clearly audible, you added, “Maybe keep it down too… in the morning.”

He chuckled, looking way too amused. “Sorry about that. Work, you know? She, uh… went home right after, don’t worry.”

Your face went flaming hot, and you whipped your head to look straight ahead, pressing your lips together like that would somehow save you from this horror. 

“Oh, you don’t… you don’t have to explain it to me,” you stammered, feeling like your cheeks were practically on fire. “I’m not worried.”

The smirk only widened. “Good to know.” He leaned in just a little, adding, “I wouldn’t want to keep you up… unintentionally.”

You choked, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you let out a mortified laugh that you could barely stop from turning into a squeak. Just get to your floor, just get to your floor… you chanted internally, keeping your gaze laser-focused on the elevator doors.

But you could feel him watching you, could practically feel the amusement radiating off him as you tried to pretend that your life hadn’t just devolved into a rom-com nightmare.

Finally—finally—the elevator dinged at your floor. You stepped out, sighing with relief, only for Bucky to step out right behind you.

“Hey,” he called, making you pause and turn reluctantly. He was smiling, hands casually shoved into his pockets as he looked you over. “Are you coming to the rooftop pool party this weekend?”

“No,” you replied flatly, the answer escaping before you could even pretend to think about it.

He laughed, clearly not deterred. “Aw, come on. You sure? It’ll be fun.”

You shook your head vigorously, waving him off. “No, no, I’m good. I’m… not much of a party person.”

“Really?” he replied, stepping a little closer, his smile turning into something dangerously persuasive. “It’s just neighbors hanging out, not some crazy nightclub thing. Good music, food… probably no loud… work, either.”

You glared, suppressing an eye roll as he gave you a wink. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, still grinning. “If you don’t show up, who am I going to talk to about all the ‘work’ complaints?”

You stifled a laugh, trying to maintain your resolve. “Pretty sure there are other people you can bother with that.”

“But none of them have your… constructive feedback,” he replied, his gaze dropping to the floor as he pretended to look shy. “And honestly, I need someone to keep me in check. I’m a handful at parties. Who else is going to stop me from climbing onto tables?”

You snorted, crossing your arms as you tried not to crack a smile. “I highly doubt you’re a handful at a pool party.”

He raised an eyebrow, challenging you. “Come and find out.”

You looked away, shaking your head but feeling the corners of your mouth tug upward. “Bucky, I’m not going.”

“So, you’re saying you’ll leave me up there with all these people who… don’t know me as well as you do?” He tilted his head, giving you a mock-pout.

Your face turned red, and you sputtered, “I don’t know you! I barely know you!”

“Oh, so all those research sessions weren’t exactly getting to know me?” he replied, grinning as he watched you turn an even deeper shade of crimson.

“You—ugh, you’re impossible,” you muttered, finally laughing despite yourself.

“That’s what everyone says,” he said, his voice softening just a little as he held your gaze. “Come on, Y/N. I promise, no loud work. I’ll even save you a spot.”

You sighed, feeling the last bit of resistance crumble. “Fine. But only for an hour.”

He beamed, triumphant. “Deal. And who knows? Maybe we’ll find something to actually talk about… outside of work.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart did a little flip. This is going to be a disaster, you thought. But somehow, you didn’t mind as much as you thought you would.

× × × × 

The weekend took forever to arrive, but somehow, you survived it—mostly by avoiding Bucky and doing your best not to think about that ridiculously intriguing video he’d hinted at. Nope, not even a peek. It was your own personal victory, though it took every ounce of willpower you had.

And now, here you were, standing at the rooftop entrance, mentally psyching yourself up. You’d put on a two-piece swimsuit under a white sheer cover-up, feeling only slightly self-conscious as you stepped out. Only because you hated drawing attention to your body. 

The party was already in full swing, a mix of upbeat music and laughter filling the air. You scanned the crowd for a certain troublemaking neighbor, but no sign of him. Great, you thought, rolling your eyes. Bucky drags me up here, then vanishes like an ass. Typical.

You made a beeline for an empty lounge chair, setting down your bag and towel, hoping you’d have a chance to relax before anyone else noticed you. But just as you were about to sit, a deep voice called out.

“Hey there!”

You turned to see an equally impressive figure—a tall, muscular guy with a sun-kissed smile, striding over with a confident swagger. 

“I’m Johnny,” he said, flashing a grin as he handed you a cold glass of beer. “Welcome to the party.”

“Oh! Thanks,” you said, taking the glass, feeling only slightly overwhelmed by all the testosterone on this rooftop. “Nice to meet you, Johnny.”

“Likewise,” he said, eyes flicking over you with the appreciation of someone who knew exactly what he was looking at. “Didn’t expect to see a new face up here. I know most of the regulars.”

“Yeah, I… usually keep to myself,” you admitted, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze.

“Well, glad you’re here,” he said smoothly, gesturing to a chair beside yours. “Mind if I join you?”

Before you could answer, another familiar voice cut through the air, low and unmistakably amused. “Johnny.”

You turned slowly, bracing yourself for whatever cocky look Bucky had in store, but when you finally laid eyes on him, your brain just… stopped. No thoughts, head empty, because the second he strolled into view, you swore you heard the sultry opening saxophone of Careless Whisper start playing, echoing dramatically in your head like some corny, slow-motion rom-com entrance.

He moved in perfect sync to the imaginary music in your head, each step more absurdly cinematic than the last. This can’t be happening, you thought, but somehow, there he was—tan skin, swim trunks slung just right, and that damn casual shirt hanging open over his shoulders. The man looked like a vacation ad, except he was bringing you dangerously close to a heatstroke.

As he got closer, the sax solo in your mind reached ridiculous, life-altering levels of intensity. Why do you have to look like this? you thought, nearly choking on the vision before you. Bucky’s smirk turned into something almost smug, like he knew exactly what effect he was having, as if he, too, could hear the George Michael anthem of seduction playing in your head. You half-expected him to whip out an actual saxophone and start serenading you right there.

You swallowed, barely keeping yourself from drooling, and willed yourself to stay composed. Get a grip, you told yourself, though you were about 98% certain your jaw was on the verge of dropping.

“Sorry, Johnny,” he said smoothly, not even glancing at the other guy. “I think she already has company.”

You quickly tried to compose yourself, forcing a neutral expression as you willed your face not to betray the sheer catastrophe your brain was going through. 

“Oh, hey, Bucky,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t sound as strangled as you felt. Inside, you were practically screaming. Why do you have to look like a freaking Greek god, Barnes? It’s rude, honestly.

Johnny raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking between the two of you, clearly picking up on the tension. “You two know each other?”

Bucky leaned casually against the lounge chair next to yours, flashing a grin that practically oozed mischief. 

“You could say that. She’s my neighbor,” he said, his tone implying… well, all sorts of things. You immediately knew that everyone within earshot was definitely getting the wrong idea. “And I’ve been trying to get her to come out of her shell for a while now.”

Come out of her shell? You wanted to throttle him. But before you could retort, Johnny, ever the gentleman, just gave you a knowing wink and clapped Bucky on the shoulder. 

“Well, guess I’ll let you take over, then,” he said, sauntering off with an amused smile.

You sighed, turning to face Bucky, who looked all too pleased with himself as he settled in beside you, stretching out like he owned the place. 

“So, you made it,” he said, taking a leisurely sip of his drink as his eyes did a once-over that was a little too thorough.

“Yep,” you replied, your voice barely concealing your exasperation. “I showed up, just like I said I would. Where were you?”

He shrugged, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “Was just giving you a chance to make some new friends,” he said, his tone way too casual.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of the beer Johnny had given you. “Please. You just love making an entrance.”

He chuckled, clinking his glass with yours. “Can’t say you’re wrong about that.”

As he leaned back, his gaze lingered a little too long, making your cheeks heat up. 

“Nice cover-up, by the way,” he commented, smirk widening. “It’s… modest.”

You shot him a look, feeling suddenly self-conscious about the sheer fabric draped over your swimsuit. “Why, thank you. That was kind of the point.”

“Yeah?” he replied, his voice dropping just a notch. “Shame, though. Bet that swimsuit’s got a whole lot of personality under there.”

You practically choked on your drink, coughing as you glared at him. “You’re such a flirt, Barnes.”

He chuckled, clearly unbothered by your reaction. “Hey, just saying what everyone’s thinking.”

You settled back in your chair, determined not to let him get the upper hand. But as you sat there, pretending to ignore him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite everything, you were enjoying this game just as much as he was.

You took a deep breath, narrowing your eyes at Bucky, who was looking far too pleased with himself. 

“Like I said, just one hour,” you told him firmly, crossing your arms as if that would somehow fortify your resolve against whatever mischievous plans he undoubtedly had.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning even more devilish. “Oh, I’m sure an hour will be more than enough.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “For what? So you can drive me insane and then sit back and enjoy the show?”

He chuckled, leaning a little closer, and you felt your heart rate spike. “Maybe. But I was thinking more along the lines of just… keeping you entertained.”

“Oh, I’m plenty entertained, thanks,” you shot back, trying to sound unimpressed despite the heat creeping up your neck.

He shrugged, unfazed, and settled back into his lounge chair. 

“Good. Then let’s make it the best hour of your week,” he said, flashing you a wink that sent a new wave of exasperation—and, annoyingly, a bit of excitement—through you.

You huffed, shaking your head as you took a sip of your drink, determined not to let him see just how much that smirk was affecting you. Just one hour, you reminded yourself. What could possibly happen in one hour?

As you and Bucky settled into a strange, almost comfortable silence, you heard a booming voice from across the pool.

“CHICKEN FIGHT!” Johnny’s voice rang out, loud and enthusiastic, immediately grabbing everyone’s attention.

You whipped your head around, eyes widening. Johnny was wading into the pool, rallying everyone like some kind of pool party commander. “Come on! Everyone in! We need two teams!”

“Oh, no,” you muttered under your breath, instinctively shrinking into your lounge chair, hoping you’d be overlooked in the shuffle. Absolutely not happening, you thought, clutching your drink like a lifeline.

But Bucky, of course, was already grinning ear to ear. He turned to you, his eyes gleaming with excitement and mischief. 

“You heard him,” he said, patting your shoulder like this was some team-building exercise. “We’re going in.”

“What? No!” you hissed, clutching your drink tighter as if that would save you. “I didn’t sign up for a chicken fight. I’m just here for moral support.”

Bucky laughed, standing up and stretching in that way that only he could pull off without looking ridiculous. 

“Oh, come on,” he said, flashing you that smug, challenging grin. “Afraid of a little friendly competition?”

You shook your head, digging your heels in. “Nope. Not happening. And it’s not friendly—it’s dangerous!”

“Oh, don’t be such a chicken.” His smirk widened, and then, with a theatrical sigh, he added, “Guess I’ll just have to find someone braver.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh, you’re really going to play that card?”

He shrugged, glancing around with feigned disappointment. “Guess so. Shame though. I thought you could handle it.”

It was the final straw. With an exasperated groan, you threw down your drink and stood up. 

“Fine! I’ll do it.” The second the words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them, especially as you saw Bucky’s smirk morph into full-blown satisfaction.

“Perfect,” he said, clearly thrilled with himself.

You sighed, slipping off your sheer cover-up, feeling a sudden self-consciousness as you stood there in just your swimsuit. Bucky’s gaze flicked over you with open admiration, his grin widening just a bit. You forced yourself to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, rolling your eyes at his blatant staring.

“Enjoying the view?” you deadpanned.

“Oh, absolutely,” he replied without missing a beat, his eyes twinkling. “But we’ve got a fight to win.”

Before you could second-guess your decision, he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the pool. Johnny spotted the two of you and cheered, pumping his fist in the air. “Yes! We got a team! Bucky and… Y/N, right?”

You forced a smile, giving him a thumbs-up while silently planning your escape route. But before you knew it, you were waist-deep in the water, Bucky hoisting you up with surprising ease, positioning you on his shoulders.

“Oh my god, this is insane,” you muttered, gripping onto his head for balance as he adjusted to your weight. “I feel like a five-year-old at a theme park.”

“Just hold on,” he chuckled, steadying himself under you. “I’ve got you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as his hands firmly held your thighs, and suddenly, this was a whole new level of intense. Focus on the fight, not the incredibly attractive man holding you in the pool, you told yourself, cheeks flaming.

Johnny waded over with his partner—a muscular, tattooed guy named Jake who was definitely taking this way too seriously. 

“Ready to lose, Barnes?” Jake taunted, grinning up at you.

Bucky chuckled, his hands tightening on your legs just slightly. “Not a chance.”

“Alright, you’re up top!” Johnny yelled, clapping his hands. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”

You barely had time to brace yourself before Jake and his partner charged at you, water splashing everywhere as they made their move. Instinctively, you shrieked, grabbing onto Bucky’s hair for dear life as the force of the impact sent you both wobbling.

“Easy on the hair!” Bucky grunted, though he was laughing, his shoulders steadying beneath you as he held his ground.

“Oh, sorry!” you gasped, adjusting your grip. But before you could even catch your breath, Jake’s partner was lunging at you again, arms flailing as he tried to knock you off balance.

“Oh, no you don’t!” you muttered, your competitive spirit kicking in. You threw your hands out, grabbing his wrists and pushing back with everything you had, determined to hold your ground.

“Yeah, that’s it!” Bucky cheered from below, his laughter bubbling up as he shifted to help keep you steady. “Show ‘em what you’ve got!”

Fueled by his encouragement—and a surprising amount of adrenaline—you leaned forward, pushing against Jake’s partner with all your strength. The guy’s face twisted in concentration, but with one final shove, you managed to throw him off balance. He teetered, arms flailing, before finally toppling backward into the water with a massive splash.

“Yes!” you shouted, punching the air triumphantly as Johnny and Jake went down in a flurry of water and defeat. “Suck on that!”

The words had barely left your mouth when reality crashed back in. You blinked, suddenly realizing that maybe—just maybe—you’d gotten a little too carried away. Oh god, did I really just shout that? you thought, the heat rushing to your cheeks as your triumphant grin quickly turned into a sheepish smile.

“Well, look at you,” Bucky chuckled from below, clearly amused by your victory-induced outburst. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Yeah, well… neither did I,” you muttered, feeling the embarrassment settling in as you tried to slide off his shoulders, desperate to save whatever shred of dignity you had left. But as you started to wriggle down, you realized Bucky’s hands were still firmly gripping your thighs, holding you in place.

You froze, looking down at him. “Uh, Bucky… you can, you know… let go now.”

He glanced up, smirking. “Oh, but you’re comfortable up there. Why rush it?”

You huffed, your face going a deeper shade of red. “Because I’m very much done being the human flagpole, thank you very much.”

Bucky’s grin only widened as he kept his hold, clearly enjoying the situation far more than he should. “Nah, I think I like you right where you are. Adds a bit of… height to my reputation.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, feeling your mortification level spike. “If you don’t let me down, I swear I’ll—”

“Fine, fine,” he laughed, finally loosening his grip, letting you slide back into the water. But just as your feet touched down, he didn’t back away—instead, he shifted closer, his hands still lingering on your waist, his gaze locking onto yours with a look that sent your pulse racing.

You took a half-step back, but there was no real room to escape, not with the edge of the pool just behind you and Bucky’s broad frame in front, all mischief and steady, unbreakable eye contact. 

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low, “you could stay longer.”

Your breath hitched as Bucky leaned just the slightest bit closer, his hands still warm and steady on your waist, his smirk turning softer yet somehow more intense. Every nerve in your body seemed to jolt to life as he held your gaze.

You cleared your throat, attempting to find your voice amid the chaos of your thoughts. 

“Uh… stay longer? For what?” you managed, trying to sound casual, though your pulse was anything but.

His smirk grew, the corners of his mouth lifting in that way that was dangerously charming. 

“For the victory lap, of course,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper. “After all, we did just crush the competition. Wouldn’t want you running off too fast.”

“Oh, right, a victory lap,” you muttered, trying to regain your composure but finding it difficult with his hands still lingering on your waist. “But I think the whole pool just watched that ‘lap’…”

“Then they got a good show,” he chuckled, his voice warm with that teasing tone you were starting to know all too well. “But the best part of winning is savoring it… right here.”

Your face went hot as his fingers brushed slightly against your sides, sending a little spark of energy straight up your spine. 

“Bucky,” you said, the word barely a whisper. “You’re… awfully close.”

“Oh, am I?” He didn’t back away; instead, he raised a brow, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Didn’t hear you complaining when you were up there, champ.”

Your cheeks went impossibly warmer. “That was different. That was, you know… competitive. Strategic.”

“Competitive and strategic?” he echoed, his grin turning almost wicked. “Well, in that case…” He shifted his hands slightly, bringing you even closer as he leaned in. “Let’s see if you’re still competitive outside the game.”

He hovered just a breath away, his gaze flickering to your lips for a moment that felt like an eternity. You felt yourself leaning in almost on instinct, your pulse racing, and for one wild, heart-stopping second, it seemed like he might actually kiss you.

But then, as if on cue, someone nearby let out a loud, obnoxious cheer, snapping both of you out of the moment. The sound jolted you, and you quickly took a step back, breaking the tension as reality crashed in.

Bucky chuckled softly, looking slightly too smug as he let his hands fall from your waist. 

“Guess that victory lap will have to wait,” he murmured, giving you one last look that promised he wasn’t quite finished with his teasing yet.

You swallowed, desperately trying to get your heart rate back to normal. “Yeah, guess so.”

As the night went on, you’d lost count of how many concoction drinks had been handed to you, and at this point, your usual sense of caution was practically nonexistent. The rooftop was a haze of laughter, lights, and music, and the whole place felt like it was buzzing with energy. Any embarrassment from earlier had dissolved into pure, uninhibited confidence, each drink making you feel bolder than the last.

One minute, you were in a drinking game, cheering Bucky on as he took down a round of shots like it was nothing. The next, you found yourself in a game of truth or dare that had somehow escalated into body shots. You’d laughed, nearly choking on your drink, when you saw Bucky sprawled out on a table, daring you with that infuriating grin to take your turn.

“Oh, come on, that's not fair,” you slurred, trying to wave off the dare as he raised an eyebrow, that smug look firmly in place.

“Back out now if you can’t handle it,” he teased, lying back and folding his arms behind his head, acting like he hadn’t a care in the world.

The crowd cheered you on, and fueled by liquid courage, you rolled your eyes and leaned down, pressing your lips to his abs, feeling his warm skin under your touch as you took the shot in a quick, heated moment. His laughter mingled with the cheers around you, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush from the attention, from his gaze, from the heat spreading across your face.

Before you knew it, you were in a round of flip cup with Bucky as your teammate, and he downed his drink, slamming his cup down with a victorious shout. He grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up and spinning you around, both of you laughing so hard you could barely stand straight when he finally set you down.

Somehow, you ended up on the makeshift dance floor, music thumping as the party around you roared on, the lights around the rooftop pool casting a glow over everyone. You’d danced with other people throughout the night, but Bucky seemed to have a way of drawing you back, his energy magnetic, his laughter contagious. It was like he was everywhere you turned, keeping pace with you, matching every laugh and smirk with one of his own.

The music thumped, lights flashed, and the DJ’s voice blared over the speakers, “Alright, party people! Here’s the deal—find someone you want to… get close to tonight and give them a kiss, a hug, heck, even a lick if you’re feeling bold!”

Everyone around you burst into cheers and laughter, the party’s energy wild and reckless. By now, you were buzzing on so much liquid courage that everything felt like the best idea ever, including the fact that you were swaying against Bucky, who’d somehow stayed by your side all night.

He leaned in, his smirk way too mischievous, and the alcohol made it feel impossibly close. 

“Did you hear that?” he slurred, barely keeping the laughter out of his voice. “I think it’d be a shame if we ignore the DJ’s request don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush it off, but he just grinned wider, leaning in until his cheek was practically pressed against yours. 

“Hold still,” he whispered, a laugh lurking in his voice.

Then, in a move so outrageous you could barely comprehend it, he dragged his tongue slowly from your chin up to your forehead.

“Bucky!” you shrieked, stumbling back and half falling over yourself, laughter bubbling out of you as you clutched your face in shock. “Oh my god, you did not just—”

He stepped back, looking beyond pleased with himself, the grin on his face pure, unfiltered pride. 

“What? I’m just being… obedient,” he slurred, raising his hands in mock innocence.

“You are the worst!” you squealed, laughing so hard you could barely keep it together, grabbing his arm as you steadied yourself, still half in disbelief. He just chuckled, clearly reveling in your reaction as he pulled you right back into the rhythm, your laughter mixing with the cheers around you as the dance floor pulsed with music.

They cranked up the music, and suddenly, the beat was all around you, pulsing through the crowd, as if daring everyone to let loose. The energy was infectious, and you found yourself moving in sync with him, laughing as you danced together, every touch and sway between you crackling with a chemistry that had been simmering all night.

Without thinking, you stepped closer, your hands drifting to his chest, letting your fingers splay against the warm, solid muscle. Your movements grew slower, more deliberate, and his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you against him until there was barely any space left between you. His gaze dropped, glued on your lips, and you felt a shiver run through you, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his face just inches from yours. His nose brushed yours, and you looked up to meet his gaze, seeing the same surprised intensity reflected in his eyes.

Bucky held your gaze, his breath mingling with yours, and you could feel the tension building, electric and undeniable. He was waiting—leaving the next move up to you. If you wanted him, you knew he’d let you take him.

🎶Just let me know, can you be the one to hold and not let me go?🎶

Heart pounding, you somehow managed to press yourself even closer, feeling the swell of your chest against him, igniting a flush across his cheeks. But it wasn’t embarrassment you saw in his eyes—it was heat, a look that sent a thrill down your spine. His hand shifted, his fingers tracing along the curve of your hip, and you could feel the strength of his grip as he held you.

🎶I need to know, could you be the one to call when I lose control?🎶

The tension was unbearable, and as you tilted your face up, your lips brushed his in the softest, most hesitant caress—a question, an invitation. His resolve crumbled instantly. His hand slid to your waist, gripping the flesh there as his other hand threaded into your hair, guiding your head back so he could kiss you deeper, tasting you with an intensity that left you breathless. You let out a startled, breathless sound, and he responded by pulling you closer, cradling your face as if you were something precious, something he couldn’t bear to let go of.

Your lips parted for him, and he kissed you with a hunger that had been building for some time. His tongue traced yours, swallowing your quiet moans, anchoring you to him as his hand kept you steady. It wasn’t forceful, just… tender, like he was holding something priceless.

Your breaths came heavy, your cheeks flushed, but you barely noticed; all you could feel was him, his touch, his heartbeat pounding against yours, and the fire in his veins matching your own. In that moment, propriety, the crowd around you, everything else faded into oblivion. If he wanted you to take him right there, you couldn’t even think of saying no.

Every nerve in your body was alive, tingling with an incredible sense of lust and need as his arms held you close. His lips pressed harder, deepening the kiss, his passion and intensity only spurring you to match it. You melted against him, completely consumed by the heat and need between you, and for those moments, it was as if nothing else existed. Oxygen became secondary; the only thing that mattered was the connection between you, growing more fervent with each second.

Finally, when the need for air became overwhelming, you both broke apart, gasping, your faces inches from each other, breaths mingling as you took each other in. His lips tingled, mirroring your own, and every beat of your heart seemed to urge you back into his embrace.

“Let’s get out of here… yours or mine?” Bucky stammered between breaths, his voice husky, his eyes still filled with fire. His body radiated heat, and he looked like he’d dive into the pool at any second just to cool down.

“Mine,” you whispered, your voice breathless, cheeks flushed, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you held his gaze.

× × × × 

You both barely made it down the hallway before the urgency hit, the tension that had been building all night finally snapping. Bucky’s hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, pulling you against him as you fumbled for your keys, the both of you practically tripping over each other in your haste. As soon as you managed to unlock the door, you pushed it open, stumbling inside, his mouth crashing into yours before it even closed behind you.

Wetness pooled inside you, the need for him overwhelming as you pressed back against the door, his body meeting yours in a frenzy of heat and desperation. His stubble scraped against your skin, rough and deliciously manly, a reminder that he was all raw power and intensity. You loved it, the way it scratched against your cheek, adding to the thrill and making your skin tingle wherever he touched.

His lips found the side of your neck, warm and insistent as he kissed his way down, nipping softly, each touch leaving you breathless. You tilted your head back, giving him more access, exposing the full length of your neck to his hungry mouth. His hands slid up your sides, his fingers pressing in firmly, possessively, as his teeth grazed your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“God,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

You could only gasp, clutching onto him as his mouth moved up to your jaw, his hands never stilling, gripping you as if he couldn’t bear to let go. Bucky reached a hand up and placed it on your left breast, over the bikini top, and then brought his hand up to the back of your neck to pull you in closer to him. You undid the straps of your top, and down fell the top, exposing your naked breasts to him.

Holy shit—this can’t be real. Am I hallucinating? Is this actually happening? Wait—oh god, is he about to put my boobs in his mouth?!

Like a hungry child desperate for milk Bucky suckled on your nipple, squeezing the bottom of your breast passionately with one hand, and holding the other breast in his other hand. You looked down at him, licking, sucking, rubbing, and he looked as though he was transported to paradise.

He worked himself into a frenzy playing with your breast, until he wanted more. He lifted you up under your thighs, off the floor, and pressed your back against the wall.

Oh shit!

He kissed you again, his hand sliding down to press against you over your bikini bottom. With a quick, desperate motion, he tugged the fabric to the side, his fingers brushing bare skin, making your breath hitch.

As his hand cupped you, he began to move slowly, his fingers exploring, teasing. “Damn,” he murmured, his voice thick with surprise and satisfaction. “You’re so wet. Is this what happens every time you watch my videos?”

“M-maybe…” you stammered, cheeks heating, barely able to meet his eyes as a grin spread across his face.

His fingers slid inside you, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each motion sending sparks through your entire body. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he asked, “How many times have you touched yourself thinking about me?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan as he continued, each movement intensifying the heat pooling inside you. 

“Mmmh—why would I tell you that?” you managed, trying to sound teasing but barely able to keep your voice steady.

His grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes as his fingers pressed deeper, his thumb brushing against you just right. “Because I want to hear every filthy detail.”

He kissed your other nipple, the one he missed when before. Bucky always gave equal time to the breasts. Suckling on one nipple, fingering you harder and harder, you were getting more and more excited for the moment he would penetrate you.

“Oh my god—” You swallowed, feeling your face heat up and you could feel yourself slightly sobering up. With a nervous laugh, you finally gave in, your voice soft but steady.

“Fine… sometimes, late at night—ah—I’d imagine you between my legs, devouring me like your life depended on it,” you whispered, feeling your cheeks burn. “I’d—fuck—I’d think about your hands, the way they’d feel inside me, moving exactly like this…mmmh,” you gasped as his fingers pressed deeper, your own words sparking the desire between you. 

His fingers never stopped their steady, torturous rhythm, each movement deliberate, coaxing you toward the edge with a patience that was as maddening as it was intoxicating.

“And? That’s it?” he asked, his tone thick with amusement, daring you to reveal more. His thumb brushed against you in just the right way, as if encouraging you to keep talking, to give him every last detail he was craving.

“And—hah—I’d picture you… spitting in my mouth while you’re turning me on, you’d put your hand on my neck while I beg you to i dunno? reorganize my guts—because you’re so big Bucky. . . I don’t think you’ll fit inside me.”

“Oh the innocent looking ones are always the dirtiest.” Bucky’s smirk turned darker, his fingers pressing into you with a newfound intensity, his digits hooking and pressing into your most sensitive spot, causing your hips to jerk against his palm. 

“And was I just as good in your imagination as I am now?” he murmured, voice low and rough, sending shivers straight down your spine.

“Yes… yes…” The words left your lips almost involuntarily, your hands gripping his shoulders as your nails dug in, grounding yourself against the overwhelming sensation. Your face twisted with pleasure, each stroke of his digits making it harder to catch your breath. 

Bucky’s eyes darkened with a fierce satisfaction as he watched you, his smirk deepening. “Better than you imagined?”

"Mhhm," you tried to respond, but it came out more like a needy moan, your voice barely a whisper under the intensity of his touch.

Bucky's smirk grew at the sound, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he took in every reaction, every tremble. "That’s what I thought," he murmured, his voice dark and teasing.

Bucky carried you through the open door of your bedroom, his movements purposeful, every touch sending sparks across your skin. When he reached the edge of the bed, he lowered you onto the mattress, but before letting you go, he bent down to capture your lips in a kiss—a kiss that felt as intimate as it did electrifying.

You couldn’t help but notice the difference; this was something he never did in his videos. Bucky never kissed anyone on the lips on screen. But here, he kissed you slowly, deeply.

His hands moved to your shoulders, firm but gentle as he guided you back into the soft downy mattress. “There you go, baby,” he murmured, his voice warm and low. “Lean back.”

He knelt down at the side of the bed. He pulled off your panties, the final barrier to your sex. He pushed your legs apart and back, and gazed at your pussy, already wet for him.

He stared at your exposed pussy for ten seconds, admiring it like it was the greatest work of art he had ever seen.

"Your pussy," he said, his lips nearly brushing your sex. "It's beautiful.”

You lifted your  head up and looked at him. Your jaw was dropped and you were already starting to feel tingles up your body, even though he hadn't licked you yet. You heard his breathing get heavier and heavier, he was so excited to put his lips on your pussy.

Two large fingers of his left hand spread your lips. Two large fingers of his right hand rubbed your clit in strong circles. Each circle sends a shock wave through your body.

"You smell fantastic," he declared, and he dove his mouth right on top of your wet and stimulated clit. Up and down he licked. Up and down, his mouth clasped tight against your pussy.

"Oh," you moaned, as your eyes rolled up to the back of your head. Your arms—with a mind of their own—grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted them back, presenting yourself to this man who used to be on the screen and was now bringing you to ecstasy. He'd only just started to lick you, but even so you felt ready for him to enter you and never leave. 

As Bucky continued to eat you like you’re his last meal, each suction sending thrills through you, a sudden wave of doubt crashed over you, freezing you in place. Images flooded your mind—women he’d been with, all effortlessly beautiful, the kind who exuded confidence and allure. How could you compare? This had to be nothing more than another fleeting thing for him, a “friendship” that would end the moment the night was over.

You tensed, your hands moving to gently push him back. “Bucky… wait,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up from between your legs, his expression softening instantly as he met your gaze. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle, concerned.

“I… I just…” You stammered, the words getting caught in your throat before you finally managed, “I don’t want to be… one of your girls.”

Bucky blinked, taken aback, his expression shifting as if the words had struck something unexpected, almost offended. 

“One of my girls?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you searched for the right way to explain. “I… I don’t do one-night stands,” you admitted, feeling vulnerable. 

Bucky nodded slowly, his tongue pressing into his cheek as he rose to his feet. "Mhm—no, I get it... it's because of my job," he said, his tone carrying a hint of defensiveness.

You sat up, noticing the shift in his demeanor. "Are you mad?" you asked softly, uncertainty creeping into your voice.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not mad," he replied, though his clenched jaw suggested otherwise. "I just didn't think you'd see me that way."

"See you what way?" you pressed gently.

He met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "Like I'm some guy who just goes around collecting flings," he explained. "I thought you knew me better than that."

You swallowed, choosing your words carefully. “It's not that I think poorly of you,” you said. “It's just... your work makes things complicated for me. I don't want to be another notch on anyone's belt.”

He took a deep breath, his expression softening. “I understand where you're coming from,” he admitted. “But believe me when I say that this—” he gestured between the two of you “—is different for me.”

“How do I know that?” you asked quietly.

He stepped closer, his eyes sincere. “Because I don't share moments like this with just anyone,” he said. “You think I go around kissing people like that? Off-camera, in my real life?”

Bucky’s expression shifted, his brows knitting together as he crossed his arms, clearly growing more frustrated. “I thought you knew the difference between who I am on-camera and who I am off it,” he replied, his tone clipped.

You sighed, trying to hold your ground. “Bucky, you’re the one who kept teasing me to watch your videos, practically encouraging me to make it my new hobby—how am I supposed to ignore what you do?”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair in irritation. “Because those videos aren’t me,” he said, voice rising. “You’re acting like everything I do there is just some extension of my personal life, but it’s a job, Y/N. I don’t go around living like that off-set.”

You crossed your arms, not caring that the blanket had slipped off, leaving you bare before him. 

“And I’m supposed to just... pretend that all of it doesn’t mean anything?” you shot back, feeling a twinge of vulnerability but refusing to let it show. “You kept making those jokes, those comments—you have to see how confusing it is for me.”

He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “And you think I just do that with everyone? That every person who walks into my life gets these... moments with me?” His gaze softened slightly as he gestured between the two of you. “If that were the case, do you think I’d be here, right now, trying to convince you?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the words caught in your throat. His intensity was throwing you off balance, forcing you to question your assumptions. You’d expected him to brush this off or laugh, not take it to heart.

He shook his head, a frustrated laugh escaping him. “You don’t get it, do you?” He looked at you, his eyes full of something you couldn’t quite name. “I don’t have to be here, fighting for this. I could have walked away and yet here I am.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat as the weight of his words settled heavily between you. The intensity of his gaze, the raw honesty in his voice—it was all too much, too fast, and yet it tugged at something deep inside you, making it impossible to brush off. But your heart was pounding, confusion and vulnerability swirling together, and you weren’t ready to face everything his words were unearthing.

“I… I think we should call it a night,” you said quietly, barely able to meet his gaze, the words coming out softer than you intended.

For a moment, he looked at you, his expression unreadable, and you could see him processing your response. Then, with a quiet sigh, he nodded, stepping back to give you space.

“Alright,” he replied, his voice subdued. “If that’s what you want.”

The room felt suddenly colder, the tension between you now tinged with a quiet ache. You could tell he was holding back more that he wanted to say, but he respected your decision, his expression guarded as he looked away.

You bit your lip, your mind racing with things you couldn’t bring yourself to say, with emotions you weren’t quite ready to admit. 

“Thank you… for understanding,” you managed, feeling the weight of your choice settle over you.

He gave a small nod, his jaw tight, before he turned toward the door. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said softly, pausing for a moment as if hoping you might change your mind, before finally leaving your apartment, the main door shutting made you flinch even though Bucky closed it softly.

The silence that followed felt heavier than you expected. The tension that had filled the room moments ago lingered, and a wave of frustration washed over you, mixing with regret and uncertainty. You took a shaky breath, running a hand through your hair before letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow, buried your face into it, and let out a muffled scream, releasing all the emotions you couldn’t quite put into words. The pillow absorbed the sound, but it did nothing to ease the twist of emotions churning inside you. Finally, you pulled the pillow away, feeling just as conflicted as before, wondering if you’d made the right choice… or a terrible mistake.

tags: @bohoooitsme @barnescamboy @strangefunthornqueen @mayusenpai666 @seven0714

@rabbitrabbit12321 @alexsl-universe @xunquish-blog @hzdhrtss @winchestert101

@alyana-luvs-u @itsbuckysworld

I guarantee this would just make me a better person

Relief Mission (Part 2 of 2)

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Mutual pining, flirt, and so much smut

Summary: The morning after and beyond.

A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby This one's for you @weekendgothgirl.

Part 1 of Relief Mission

You had no idea what time it was when it happened, probably the middle of the night. That strange sensation of falling hit you and you jerked awake to the realization that you were falling out of the bed. You had made yourself as small as possible, put yourself on the edge of the bed, to give Bucky room. Scrambling to keep yourself from hitting the floor, you feel a hand grab your waist and pull you back. Bucky fit your body to his in the small bed, burying his face in your neck. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, but there’s no answer from the man snuggling against you. “Bucky?” you try again but the only answer you receive is a moan as he flexes his hips more firmly into you. You bite your lip and debate what to do. You could try to extricate yourself but you imagine that the loose grip he holds is deceptive or maybe you just want it to be. You decide to stay where you are, it was where you wanted to be anyway. You smile as you fall back to sleep. 

The next morning, you wake with your face pressed to his chest, legs tangled with his, and your hands curled into his shirt. When a ray of light hits the one eye not shielded by his chest, you groan. 

“Piss off, sun. I’m not done with nighttime yet,” you mumble the sentiment, enjoying the feel of waking in someone’s arms. Bucky’s chest rumbles against your face. His laugh telling you he was awake and had heard you.

“Morning, doll,” he says quietly. You can hear the smile in his voice and bask in it for a moment.

“Mmm, morning. I know, I know. Gotta get up. Long drive,” you say mostly to yourself. 

“Five more minutes?” Bucky whispers. 

“I knew I liked you,” you smile as you nuzzle into his warmth. His arms tighten around you slightly. You fall into a hazy half-sleep, more comfortable than you should be with a man you barely knew. Rousing yourself a few minutes later, you take a deep breath, “Sorry,” you extricate yourself, sit on the edge of the bed, and grasp for words to explain why you were practically wrapped around him. “I, um… Thanks for saving me from hitting the floor last night,“ you say with a nervous little laugh. 

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together as he looks at you from where he’s still laid out on the bed.

“Last night?...” you read his confused expression and continue. “I almost fell out of the bed and you pulled me back. I, uh, guess you slept through the whole thing, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Bucky scratches the back of his head. “I’m not surprised. I was probably crowding you.”

“No!,” you say too quickly. “Not at all. Anyway, we should get going. I’m going to change. My shirt should be dry by now. I’ll give your’s back.”

“No need, doll. Keep it. Looks-” Bucky cuts himself off.

“What?” you ask, curiously. 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head with a sheepish smile.

“No, it’s okay. What were you going to say?” 

“It, um, it looks better on you anyway,” Bucky quietly says and then stares, waiting for your reaction. 

“Oh,” you smile, heat creeping up your face. “Okay. Th-thanks. I’ll be out in just a minute.”

Bucky kicks himself as you scramble into the bathroom. His stupid mouth always seemed to run ahead of his brain around you. You probably thought he was an idiot. 

You stood in the bathroom for a minute and couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. He was so adorable. Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you get ready quickly. You still had to get to the rendezvous point to join the rest of your team. 

The drive was long but it was as if a dam had broken between you and Bucky. Perhaps the shared intimacy of sleeping in each other's arms had made the awkwardness melt away. Whatever the reason, the polite conversation and long silences you had formerly shared with the metal-armed supersoldier had turned into laughs and getting to know each other. He was surprisingly funny and incredibly sweet. The stories he told were endearing. You even managed to make him laugh. He asked questions and listened to you prattle on. 

By the end of the drive, your attraction to him had become a full blown crush. However, there was no time to dwell on it as the team immediately went on to the next part of the mission. It was a few days before you were back home and settled down from the action. You were happy when Bucky sought you out more often after that. You spent time together, laughed, and just enjoyed each other. The only thing that was bothering you is that he had never made a move in the two weeks since that night. You were wondering if he just wanted to be friends. 

You had just closed your door after hanging out with the team for the night when there was a knock. Opening the door, you look curiously at Bucky as he leans against the doorjamb. 

“Hey. What's up?” you ask, your heart beating faster.

“Do you ever think about that morning? Waking up together?” Bucky looks at you. His eyes are filled with such tenderness and just a tinge of fear. 

“All the time. All the time,” you smile widely and pull him through the door.

He shuts it as he walks through and your heart soared as he wrapped you in his arms. You stared into each other's eyes, taking each other in and then the tension snapped. His lips found yours and he kissed you until you were dizzy. It was as if neither of you wanted to separate. When he finally pulls away, you smile at each other. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” Bucky says, his hand caressing your neck. 

“What took you so long?” you tease. 

“I’m a little out of practice at the whole dating thing,” Bucky chuckles while his cheeks tinge pink. 

“Does that mean you want to date me?" You bite your lip.

"Yeah, doll. Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?" Bucky asks, nervously.

"Why don't you take me to breakfast in the morning?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Uh, sure. If that's what you want. I'll see you in the morning," Bucky stutters in confusion. 

Realizing he hadn't taken your meaning, you decide to be a little more clear,  "Ya know, it's a long commute from my room to yours, maybe you'd like to just… stay the night?"

Biting your lip, you watch as realization dawns on Bucky's face. It's nearly comical. Sure, you were being forward but you'd practically walked around with a lady boner since that morning. Constantly hot and bothered from feeling him against you but nothing you did seemed to quell the ache. When Bucky stepped forward, his expression was full of wonder, as if he couldn't believe you had extended such an invitation.

He puts a hand on your neck and then pulls you to him for a kiss. You had expected it to be passionate as the one before had been but it was incredibly soft and tender. Your eyes flutter closed as you take in the moment. The feel of his lips, his hand caressing your neck, his metal arm going around your waist to pull you closer, and then suddenly, he breaks the kiss, bends down, and picks you up. You gasp as you put your arms around his neck and stare at him in surprise. Giving you a sweet smile, he walks to your bed and gently lays you on it. He follows you down, settling next to you before finding your lips again. His hands wander over your arms, your hips, your neck, as if he’s discovering you. Memorizing your curves and testing those spots that make you shudder. 

Taking some initiative, you put your leg over his and pull him closer. He rolls you under him, settling between your legs, and putting one hand under your shirt to feel your skin. You slide your hands under his shirt, feeling his warm skin, and push it up slowly. He takes the hint and leans back to pull it off. Running your hands over his chest, the ache between your legs becomes more pronounced. 

When you look into his face, he plucks at the hem of your shirt, the question in his eyes clear. You lift yourself up to help him pull it off and you’re a little surprised when he reaches behind your back and unclasps your bra with ease. He registers your surprised expression and pulls away. 

“I’m sorry. I should- I should’ve asked,” Bucky begins to stutter. 

You put your fingers to his lips and shake your head gently, “I was just surprised at how easily you did that. The answer’s yes.” You pull the bra off and throw it aside, immediately pulling him to you and enjoying the delicious warmth of his chest pressed to yours. You kiss his neck, dragging your tongue across the stubble there. 

Bucky shudders and whispers desperately, “Doll, I’m trying so hard to go slow.”

“Why?” You say against his skin, “You don’t have to go slow.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky groans. 

You let out a little laugh, “I’m not fragile. You won’t hurt me, baby.” To drive home your point, you nip at his neck. And just like that, the dam is broken. Bucky presses you into the mattress, your hands intertwined as he kisses you with abandon. His hips flex into yours and you moan as you wrap your legs around him. He drags his lips down your neck and pays special attention to your breasts as he practically rips open the zipper on your jeans. You shimmy as he pulls them, along with your panties, down your legs and tosses them aside. He’s nearly feral as he pushes your legs apart as wide as he can, stretching your cunt open to him. His mouth attacks your clit and you arch. 

“Jesus! Fuck, Bucky! Oh my god!” Your words melt into moans as he fucks you with his tongue. You arch and keen with each motion over your clit. You grab handfuls of his hair as he eats you. It’s nearly too intense but you wouldn’t stop him to save your life. You’d never felt anything this incredible and it wasn’t long before you cried out, “I’m coming! Fuck! Oh, God, oh, God!” You were babbling as Bucky never even thought to stop or slow down. He kept going as if he’d never tasted anything as divine as you, as if his sole goal in life was to make you feel those incredible waves crash over you. He changed his angle and speed a second later and it had you building more quickly than you knew you could. You were bucking uncontrollably, chasing that friction he was creating, and then your body went taut, “Bucky! Baby, fuck! I- Ohhh!” Your voice died out as your whole body spasmed with the orgasm he had pulled from you. You felt like a ragdoll as you came back to yourself. You look down at Bucky where he’s watching you from between your legs, only his eyes visible as he slowly circles your clit. 

“Glad you aren’t fragile, doll. I’m not done yet,” Bucky smiles as he slides his fingers inside you and flicks his tongue more firmly against you. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, “I can take it.” 

You grab handfuls of the sheets as his fingers find that spot inside you and the feeling of his tongue pushes you higher. You still manage to push the words past your lips, “Just remember, I get to taste you next. Fuck, it’s gonna be so good.” You feel your cunt gush as you say the words and Bucky growls, sending vibrations through you. “That’s right, baby. Gonna suck that cock. Want to feel it hitting the back of my throat. Gonna make you weak, oh fuck, from my mouth. Bucky! I’m gonna-” you scream, you can’t stop yourself. The orgasm that rips through you is the most intense thing that you’ve ever felt. You ride it out, one hand in Bucky’s hair to hold him in place as the incredible aftershocks hit you. When Bucky’s tongue starts making those delicious circles again, you laugh as you pull his head away from you, “my turn, handsome.”

He crawls up your body and hovers above you for a moment, looking at your debauched expression, “You don’t have to, doll.”

You smile and reach up to touch his face before catching him off guard and flipping him under you. Hovering over him, you smile, “I want to.” You lean down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips and grinding your soaked pussy over his considerable bulge. Pulling back, you stare into his eyes as you slide down his body. You pull his sweatpants off and lick your lips as his length bobs in front of you. “Fuck, I’m going to enjoy this.” You wrap your hand around him and give a long lick across his tip. 

“Doll!” The heels of Bucky’s hands are pressed into his eye sockets as if he’s in the most pain… or pleasure of his life. 

“What is it, baby?” you tease, repeating the action. You swirl your tongue around his head as you watch his breathing pick up. 

“I can’t, I’m gonna explode,” he whimpers. 

“That’s kinda the point,” you smirk as you take him in your mouth, running your tongue along his underseam. 

“Jesus, doll, I’m serious! I don’t think I can hold myself back. It’s been too long. You feel fucking amazing,” Bucky moans. 

“Then don’t,” you say before sliding him back in. You fuck him with your mouth, sliding your tongue back and forth, pumping what you can’t fit with your hand, palming his balls, and moaning at the divine feel of him. You employ every trick you know to give him pleasure. He fists the sheets, breathing heavily, and tries not to buck his hips. 

“Doll, I’m gonna… Where- oh, fuck, Doll!” Bucky’s pleas end on a long moan as you slide him into your throat. You hold back your gag reflex as Bucky explodes, filling you with his spend. It’s almost too much but you manage to relax and swallow. His hands nearly shred your sheets. He was incredibly turned on that you would even do this for him but when you slid him all the way in and let him come down your throat, he didn’t think he’d stop coming. His balls tightened up harder than ever before and all he wanted was to make you feel as incredible. You slide him out carefully and move to curl up beside him. “I need more,” Bucky’s voice is gravelly. 

“Oh, sorry, of course,” you sit up to move back down the bed but don’t make it far.

“No,” Bucky says as he lifts you and sets you down with a knee on each side of his head. “Just like this,” he says, pulling you down to sit on his face. Grabbing hold of your headboard, you gasp as pleasure rolls through you. Bucky’s hands knead your ass as he flicks his tongue over your clit again and again. 

“Bucky!”

“Ride my face, doll. Come on, you deserve it after that little show you put on,” Bucky uses his grip on you to move you back and forth, encouraging you to take your pleasure from him. You’re tentative at first but then the pleasure rolls through you as you grind against his tongue. As you roll your hips, he moves his head back and forth adding to the friction. Twisting to look back, you see his cock hardening again and all you can think of is riding it rather than his face, letting him fill you up, and as the image runs through your mind, your cunt spasms.

“Fuck! Bucky! I need you! I need you inside me,” you say the words desperately as you scramble down his body. He’s still only semi-hard but you line him up with your entrance and sink down. “Oh, fuck, yes,” you whimper as you slowly move your hips, eyes rolling back in your head at the pure hedonism. 

Bucky grabs your hips, staring at where your two bodies meet, indulging in the fact that he’s finally buried inside you. “You feel amazing, doll. Fuck.”

“Bucky,” you moan as you feel him growing inside of you, stretching you, hitting deep. “Bucky, I can’t stop. It’s so good, so fucking good,” you babble as you build momentum. You grind your hips against him, pleasure building with each motion.

“I wanna see you come on top of me, doll. Look at me, look in my eyes and come all over my cock. I want to see you fall apart. Give it to me,” Bucky commands. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whine as your orgasm breaks over you. Staring into his eyes, your mouth forms an O as you lose yourself to the spasms. Your hips stutter and Bucky holds your face as he watches you. 

“I know, I know, babydoll. Good girl. You feel so good riding my cock. Just had to have it in you, huh? Couldn’t let me feel you come on my tongue one more time, you needed this cock inside you. Well, I hope you meant it when you said you weren’t fragile. We’re not done yet,” Bucky smiles cockily as he rolls you under him. He starts to move his hips in a slow rhythm, making you lift your knees to wrap your legs around him, arching to give him better access. 

Sex had never been this good. It had never felt like this. Never been this thorough and pleasurable. You were lost in it. Lost in him. He could do anything to you at this point and you would beg for more. 

“Bucky, Bucky, oh god, Bucky, please,” you moan. 

“Please what, doll?” Bucky murmurs in your ear. 

“More, harder, please!” you whine. 

“Good girl,” Bucky praises, “You want more, huh? Yeah, you need it, don’t you? Tell me.”

“I need it. Please, baby, I need more!”

Bucky pulls your legs up, throwing them over his shoulders and begins fucking into you with hard, fast strokes making you cry out. It was intense and you felt your cunt tightening around him.

“Yeah, that’s what my babydoll needed. Fuck, you feel good. You're squeezing me tight, taking me so good,” Bucky’s hands are everywhere, holding your hips, feathering over your nipples, caressing your neck. 

Your brain goes into complete overdrive between his hips driving into you relentlessly and the words of a sex god spilling out of his mouth. Fuck, it was just the first time and you were addicted to him already. You were gonna need a dose of him every day for the rest of your life. 

“Come on, doll. Come for me again. I’m so close but I need to feel you do that all over my cock again. Give it to me,” Bucky demands sweetly. 

“Ohhhh, fuuuck,” you whine as your orgasm slams through you. You nearly black out from the intensity but you will yourself to watch as Bucky loses himself to the fluttering of your cunt around him. His roar of pleasure as he emptied himself into you makes your cunt grip him even tighter. When he’s spent, he lowers your legs and gently lays down beside you. Pulling you against him, he kisses your neck and you smile. 

“See, not fragile at all,” you quip, still trying to catch your breath. 

“I hope not, doll. After all, this is just a break. We’re not done yet,” Bucky chuckles. 

Your eyes widen but, never one to back down from a challenge, you reply, “Barely started, baby.”

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goodbye- b. barnes

pairings: past lover!enemy!bucky barnes x reader, mentions of steve rogers warnings: lovers to enemies to lovers, a lot of angst, mentions of blood, hydra, mentions of death and 40s bucky about: sleepover request “enemies to lovers with bucky” that got wayy out of hand because i apparently don’t know how to write something that doesn’t a/n: okayy so i have never written enemies to lovers before, so i hope i did this right, and i did change it a little to past lovers to enemies to lovers, i hope you don’t mind!! i’m not too sure how i feel about this, mainly because it’s so long for me that i’ll only be able to read and edit it like twice and i’ll start hating it by the first time. this is about 4k words, aka one of my longest fics ever edit: YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO EDIT THIS WOW

bucky realizes exactly how bad his relationship with you has gotten when he overhears your argument with steve over the mission pairing next week. he doesn’t mean to; he knows how pissed at him you would get if you were to find out he was listening in to a conversation that didn’t include him— although, really, the last time he was included was decades ago, when you would smile at him with warm apple cheeks and let him tuck away stray strands of your hair.

your frustrated words sneak out through the cracks of the door, letting him know exactly how upset you are that you were paired with him for the mission.

“we’ve barely even talked—” bucky nearly scoffs at this, knowing well that it was your fault. although he can’t let you take full blame. “you know we won’t work well together. partners need to have each others’ back—” steve cuts you off at that, and it makes bucky glad because that had stung more than he thought it would. some part of him, even while you pointedly avoided his existence, thought that you still cared, even if it was monumentally less than the care you’d had for him before. he never wanted to confront the possibility that you didn’t care at all, that you would come running to steve in distaste at seeing your name and his next to each other.

“it’s done, y/n. deal with it. it’s only one mission,” steve tells you sternly, exasperated. bucky can see the tick of your jaw even through the door, the way you huff out of your nose and accept defeat. some things never changed, even after a near-century. there’s a silence bucky thinks indicates an end to the conversation, and he’s about to take his leave before he’s caught, but steve’s soft sigh stops him. “i thought this duel between you two would end by now,” he says, followed by a gentle scoff from you. steve ignores it, “you two were… so much bigger than this. are so much bigger than this.”

“he left me, steve,” you snap, words edged and sharp and pained, “he made me feel like another notch on his bedpost.” bucky nearly barges in right then and there, refusing to let you think like that. he knows he screwed up, but he never thought you’d think that. you were too good for him to think you meant so little to him; he had tried his best to make sure you didn’t think that way, he wasn’t sure when it went wrong. “he left me. didn’t even know he was gone ‘til i went over to his for the date he promised me and his ma told me he was gone.” bucky’s eyes close, forehead knocking soundlessly against the door frame. “at least you got a goodbye, stevie. all i got was assurance that i was never really anything to him,” your voice turns angrier, and bucky doesn’t think he can listen to you talk about this anymore. he turns towards the elevator after steve stays silent, probably knowing better than to argue with you.

“‘can’t do anything about this now, y/n. it’s only one mission,” is the last thing he hears steve say before bucky walks away, your words rattling around in his broken mind.

-

the jet is dead silent when he climbs inside, ten minutes early as usual, but you’re there already, wordlessly walking past him to replace one of the weapons you keep in your holster. bucky wants to tell you hello, even though he knows you will only respond with a dry stare his way before you give him a view of your turned shoulder as you do anything but acknowledge his presence. your overheard conversation with steve is still heavy on his brain, having scrutinized each letter of the words you’d said to try and make sense of them. even through the shattered, blurry mess of memories he had, the ones with you were bright and clear, as if taken on the best camera in the twenty-first century. he can remember the feel of your lips on his when you both got the guts to admit your feelings for each other, the way your lips had smiled through the kiss, your giddiness clear in the curve of your mouth, and the tender pull his jaw by your careful fingers. the sound of your flustered laugh still rings clear in his ears, the warmth of your forehead as you leant it against his own, shining eyes caught on his.

he can recall the storm of feelings he felt with the fanciest pen he owned in his hand, trembling over the clean paper while he tried to write the goodbye he would never be able to tell you in person. the words of the letter he can recite in his sleep: i love you, dollface. i love you so much that i can’t bear to tell you goodbye. i know that i’ll never leave if i have to stand in front of you and tell you that i have to, not when i know you’ll be there waiting for me. but i gotta do this, you know i do. i swear to you, doll, i’ll come back and take you out on the best damn date of your life. don’t be surprised if it ends with me on a knee and that ring i know you’ll like on your finger.

he knows you deserved a real goodbye, but he was selfish, and one look from you, and he would never go. still, how dare you say he left you without a goodbye when he poured everything he had into it?

he’s tempted to ask you right now, interrupt the cleaning of the gun in your hands, but the very real possibility of you shooting him cuts his thoughts short. nevertheless, he aches to hear your voice directed at him again, see your eyes on him, even if it’s in an argument.

even though the quinjet flies itself, you seat yourself in the pilot’s seat while bucky stays in the back, quiet. his eyes can’t help but drift to you every once in a while, just watching as you stare out the window, shoulders still tense like every time he’s in the same place as you. it makes him sadder than he had thought before, because he can still recall the times that they would relax every time he smiled at you, his touch calling for you to melt into him instead of stepping away from him.

after a second, he stands to recheck his weapons, even though he’s completely sure every one of them is in perfect shape. you stand, too, heading towards one of the doors when stark’s high-tech, no-turbulence quinjets experience a harsh bump. it knocks you—and nearly bucky— off your feet, sending you tumbling forward and straight into bucky’s chest. instinctively, his hands settle around your waist, holding you in place. it’s in the second that you allow him to touch you that he’s suddenly hit with exactly how much he’s missed being able to touch you— be near you. the scent of your perfume wafts pleasantly into his nose, and he memorizes it immediately, along with the warmth of your skin— which he notices remains the same— and the smell of the shampoo you use. you only allow him near you for a second before you push him off of you roughly, shooting him a dirty look.

“you’re welcome,” bucky grumbles bitterly, moving to sit back down. your head snaps back towards him.

“i didn’t say thank you,” you snap, “i didn’t even ask you to do that.”

“you don’t have to. it’s kind of the decent thing to do so you don’t crack your head open when you fall. it’s also the decent thing to thank me for not letting that happen.”

you raise an eyebrow at him, eyes thinning at him. he can practically see his words blowing up in his face. “don’t talk to me about decency.” you retort, “what the hell would you know?”

bucky steps towards you, “what is that supposed to mean?”

you scoff, “oh, please, as if you don’t know. don’t act stupid, bucky. as much as i don’t want to, i know you better than that.”

“i’m not— what the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“nothing,” you sneer, “just thought that being decent included saying goodbye before leaving to go to a fuckin’ war you didn’t even know you were gonna come out of.”

there’s an angry, confused silence that hangs in the air after you confess why you have been so dead-set on hating him after all this time. your chest is rising with heavy breaths, and bucky is confused, eyes searching for any semblance of a lie in your eyes, but he looks away when he finds none.

“are you serious?” he asks.

you send him a deadpan stare, “i don’t really feel up to joking around with you.”

bucky steps towards you, “i said— i said goodbye. maybe i didn’t do it in the best way, but i made sure i told you goodbye. i would never leave you like that, especially after…”

“you didn’t tell me anything. i only found out you left after your ma told me. do you know how ridiculous i looked? going to that house ready for our date, only for me to find out you left me before i thought you even could.”

“i sent you a letter. i explained everything, i swear,” bucky tells you, his hands on your arms gentle enough for you to slip away, and tight enough for you to know how serious his words were. “y/n, you gotta believe me. i would never— dammit, doll, how could you think i could leave you like that?”

“you did! that’s how i could think that! there was no letter, no warning—”

“you have arrived.”

you stop yourself, eyes glued to the floor as bucky drops his hands from your arms. “please, sweetheart, i swear i sent you that letter. i could recite it for you right now if you wanted it.” friday’s mechanical voice echoes through the speaker again, repeating the earlier statement. you shake your head gently as if trying to rid yourself of the distraction in front of you, but you allow yourself for a brief glance at bucky’s eyes, scanning his features for any indication of dishonesty. you pull away when you don’t find any, feeling more upset rather than relieved.

“let’s just do what we need to,” you say finally, exiting the jet. bucky follows you after a few seconds.

—

“we’ll split up. you take the right side of the base and i’ll take the left. we’ll find the drive a lot faster,” you instruct quietly, glued to the wall next to bucky as you check there aren’t any agents in the base.

“are you sure?” bucky questions, “the intel on this base wasn’t too clear. there could be agents in there.”

“i can handle myself. i’m sure you know.”

“y/n—” he begins fruitlessly, trailing off when you take his answer as confirmation and head into the base once you clear the entrance. sighing, he jogs up next to you, overly alert of his surroundings. there’s an air in the base that he recognizes too well; all hydra buildings have a certain disturbing feel to them that indicates all the pain that was forced upon hostages, the screams that echoed through the bloodied walls almost loud enough to travel through time and reach your ears. with this one, though, bucky can feel the device that was clamped to his head, ripping away every piece of bucky he had left. he shivers.

your eyes drift to him when you notice, eyebrows joining, “what’s wrong?” you ask him, tone all-business.

“i think i know this base. where are we again?”

you’re about to respond offhandedly when you pause, your movements freezing altogether. you gulp, an unwanted flash of recognition in your eyes as you turn to bucky. “um, siberia, russia. hydra siberian facility. this is the one you were…” you blink, forcing yourself to say it so he doesn’t have to. “this is the one you were held in, buck, i’m so sorry.”

it’s the first time he’s heard you say his name in a while. when he turns to you, he notices how tense you are, and he knows it’s not because of him, it’s because you can feel it too, now.

there’s a brief pause that follows. “i think you’re right. we should stay together,” you continue, “you never know.” your voice wavers, stepping a little closer to him as you continue walking through the facility.

-

there has been no sign of any other life besides than the two of you. you’ve cleared most of the rooms together since you refuse to leave his side. as much as you seem to hate him, there’s at least a small part of you that still cares more than he ever thought you would.

“another room.” bucky lets you know, leading you inside once he’s made sure it was clear. you begin to start rifling through the files at one end of the room, the sheer size of it making it seem like you were in two different ones. it’ll take a while to meet in the middle, he notes.

you pay little attention to him as you flick through names and papers, only really looking out for any indications that bucky isn’t okay. you’re on the third cabinet when you see the drive you’re looking for, clear and so badly hidden, it must hve been intentional. it’s shoved between thick folders and stray papers, making it easy for you to pull it out with a relieved sigh. you’re about to turn to bucky and let him know you can finally leave when a file with the name of the man in the room with you catches your eye.

even with the drive in your palm, clearly the one you need evident by the label on it, you can’t help the fingers that take the file out. the papers inside are worn and crumpled, the lack of care put into putting them away blatant with the folded corners and smudged words. handwriting on a ripped paper catches your eyes, the creases in the paper showing how much time it spent folded inside a pocket. air escapes you when you catch the date scribbled on the top right, the numbers slightly smudged, but there: december 14, 1941, the day bucky left for the army.

the events on the plane flood back to you as you read the letter. you can feel the lump in your throat growing more difficult to swallow with each read word telling you goodbye. as you stand straighter, opening the file more, something inside clatters to the floor, catching bucky’s attention. you distractedly pick it up, not really looking at it until you feel what it is in your hand— the compass you had gotten bucky years before he enlisted. your eyes finally fall from the letter to stare at it, running your fingers over the design on the edges and then on the little button to open it. your lips part when you discover the picture inside of you.

the weight of bucky’s stare on you is nonexistent as you run your fingers over your picture. you can remember the day it was taken—just a few months before bucky left— and the warmth that settled over your cheeks when bucky complimented you. you drag your vision away from it to read the rest of the letter, a glimmer of gold at the middle of the folder stopping you yet again.

you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips when you realize it’s a ring that is no doubt bucky’s. you’d seen his mother wearing it every day you knew her; except for the day you visited her— the day bucky left.

you mutter a curse when you realize what the letter means; what the compass with your picture in it and winnie’s wedding ring indicates. the promises bucky included in his letter were real, his love for you was real, and had hydra not held him hostage, his goodbye would’ve made its way to you, and so would bucky, with his wedding ring and lovesick eyes.

“what’s wrong?” bucky questions from the other side of the room, having observed your stunned silence for long enough. the gleaming tears that form in your eyes give him the push to walk over to you and the folder that you can’t stop staring at, the harsh grip your fingers have on it leaving indents on the paper. you don’t seem to care. “y/n?”

you can’t stop rereading the letter, taking in the words you had been repeating to yourself before you let the anger take you over. it’s like your forties self is screaming i told you so at your present self, furious at you for letting yourself think what she knew was wrong.

you let bucky take the papers from you without a word, the grip you have on the old ring that had resided on winnie’s finger for as long as you’d known her the only tie you have to the present. “fuck,” you say, roughly wiping away the tears that begin to streak down your face. bucky recognizes the letter immediately, brows furrowing when he realizes the goodbye he had written you never got to you, meaning that you were technically right— he had practically abandoned you after his dreams had come true because he was scared of exactly this. he hears you repeat the curse, eyes finally reaching up to meet his. “i’m so sorry, bucky,” you tell him, voice dripping in disappointed sincerity. “you were right. i knew you would never—” your face scrunches, fist tightening, “i know you would never leave me like that.”

the glint of bucky’s vibranium fingers catch on the shitty lights while he reads the same sentences he painstakingly clung together decades ago, desperate to make it perfect for you. he spots the compass dangling off its chain in between your clenched fingers, and from its absence in the file, bucky can assume you found the ring.

you catch his eye, looking down at your hand before quickly holding it out to him, carefully setting down the compass in his palm. your hand opens to show him the ring, “oh,” he croaks, shaking his head disorientedly when you extend it closer to him, urging him to take it back. “no, no, keep it. it’s for you anyways.”

pained eyes look back up at him before your fingers close over the jewelry, storing it safely in the chest pocket of your suit. he holds your stare for as long as he can, desperate in his search of the ocean in your eyes for something you weren’t even sure of.

“um,” you sniffle, blinking away your tears and effectively cutting off the eye contact as you look to the ground. “i got the drive. we can leave now.” bucky mumbles an affirmation, blinking at you when you regain your composure, straightening up with a wipe of your cheeks and a clear of your throat, “you set up the bombs, right?”

bucky nods, clearly muddled, “yeah… all ready to be activated.”

“let’s go then,” you say, avoiding his eye while you start to walk out of the room. he doesn’t think you think he noticed that the papers in the folder are gone, the only thing left is the compass in his hold.

-

you ignore him the whole flight, but the items from the base weigh heavy in your pockets, screeching at you to take them out and analyze them again for reassurance that the man you’d sworn heartlessly abandoned you like one of the flings you’d seen him leave had actually done the opposite. the ring that meant so much to his mother and the words he’d recited in his letter were proof of that, evidence that you were wrong and had hated him for no reason.

it was difficult to process how awful you had been to him, disregarding his presence and his concerned words. you could recall the day you arrived, when he had greeted you with a bone-breaking hug that you had returned until the memory of what he had done to you settled in. the grief you’d suffered for him had torn deeper at your heart, and torn you away from him.

he had been angry with you, too, after realizing why you were standing in the same room as him, the exact same as the last day he’d seen you, just like him. you couldn’t blame him now; you were reckless to a point of danger due to the anguish that had ripped you apart so desperately, you felt there was no more of you to keep safe. the loss of not only the man you’d loved wholly for your whole life but of both of the best friends you’d protected and been protected by, shattering you to the point of giving yourself to howard stark as a guinea pig for his time travel ideas.

you allow yourself one look at him after not being able to help yourself, startled to find his attention already on you, the compass open and cradled in his hand like a precious stone.

you turn away and don’t look back at him again.

-

silence is all you can give when you arrive at the compound, heading straight into your room and putting off a shower, instead tugging out the yellowed letter with a delicate desperacy you weren’t sure you still had. the itch of your suit goes unnoticed by you as you slide against the wall, letting yourself sink to the floor, distracted by the letter clenched in your hand, eyes scanning the words you had been reciting to yourself the entire way back.

i love you he repeats at least three times, and you aren’t sure if the dry splatters of water are yours or his. i’ll marry you when i come back, he promises twice, and you can nearly hear the words in his own voice from the forties, so hopeful and so sure, so unaware that he would never come back to that time. goodbye, he writes at the end, for now like a prayer.

you can’t feel the tears as they drench your face. you can only feel the lack of air as you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut and hugging the paper to your chest as gently as you can, careful to not damage it any further. the ring is digging so hard into your palm, you’re sure when you open your hand again, you’ll be met with small dots of blood.

it’s why you don’t notice when bucky opens your door to the image of you, the very same one he would’ve seen the day the man knocked at your door, full of empty apologies as he delivered two condolence letters to you instead of your boys. it’s instinct to him when he rushes over to you, gathering you up into his arms as he repeats it’s okay, even if he doesn’t know what it even is.

your arms drape over his neck without hesitation, face nudging its way into the familiar crook of his neck, trying to control your shuddering breaths. “i’m sorry,” you keep saying, fisting the shirt that smells like your detergent. he assures you it’s okay, the letter in your hands, stained with tears and guilt, letting him know what’s wrong.

you whimper about how much of an ass you’ve been, how you should’ve known better after knowing him so much better, how you should’ve let him explain before pushing him to assume any love you had for him was gone when the complete opposite was the truth. you confess how much you missed him even though you felt betrayed, the overwhelming amount of love you still hold for him.

he responds by brushing away wet strands of hair from your damp eyelashes and comforting pressed kisses against the salty skin of your cheeks— just because you’re letting him and he’s wanted to do that ever since you met him, ever since you kissed him the day before he left for the war, when fireworks exploded in his brain and he was sure you had to be soulmates even if they didn’t exist in your world.

he understands, you realize, and he doesn’t blame you at all.

it settles in once you’ve both calmed down, when your head is on his shoulder and his arm around your waist, the letter he wrote you neatly folded on your dresser. “i missed you,” you tell him, smiling softly when you feel his lips against your forehead.

“i missed you, too,” he murmurs, “more than you know.” his fingers are intertwined with yours, and you let yourself appreciate how much he seems to like touching you. “‘think i owe you a date, though.”

STUCKY Books & Merchandise Order2020

Hi!

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Order Period:: 2020.01.15 ~ 02.05 Production Period:: 2020.02.05 ~ 20 Deliveries Start:: 2020.02.22~ Estimated Delivery Time:: 15~20 Days Shipping Fees:: $7 or more (depending on the weight)* > Mugs: ONLY EMS shipping :: $27~34 >>If available in your country, you may choose to use an international shipping agent site, which may be cheaper than EMS. Processing Fees:: $2

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What do you want to read?

Here’s some frequently used HYBB tags:

(Mod note: if you want to narrow down your search by Bucky/pairing, please add the ship name you’re looking for to your own key word search!) These links take you to HYBB wordpress.

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Meeting for the first time:

#meet cute

#meet awkward

#first meetings

Already met:

#established couple

#canon fic  or  #canon divergence

-

Light and fun themes:

#rom com

#humor

#fluff

#love confessions

#domestic fluff

-

Angsty themes:

#identity porn

#pining

#hurt comfort

#light angst

#angst with a happy ending

#angst with a hopeful ending  or  #hopeful ending

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Some of these may overlap a bit with a couple fics. Remember, if you want a more specific search, just enter in the key words to the search. For example type in “bucky hurt comfort” or “rarepair hurt comfort”, and so on.

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Want to read less graphic themes? Check out:

#gen rated

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-

For smuttier themes check out:

#bottom bucky barnes

#sub bucky barnes

#power bottom bucky

#pwp

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Want to browse more? this post shows you how.

Don’t forget to use HYBB on wordpress if tumblr doesn’t bring up tags (esp the more graphic tags!). The full HYBB archive is on wordpress, here.

-HYBB

did i maybe cry a little bit… yes. everyone deserves a bucky.

As I Lay Awake | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! This is yet another fic inspired by my sister and her husband and their stupidly perfect, adorable relationship. 🙄

If you like what you read, throw me a reblog so that others can find my stuff 🥰

--------------------------------

Bucky’s arms snaked around you, lifting you from the couch despite your spirited protests, and he laughed at your feeble struggle against his super soldier strength. Why you fought him about going to bed every night was beyond his comprehension. Your job was draining- early mornings, late nights, mountains of work, and endless meetings sunk you into what seemed like a permanent state of exhaustion- both mental and physical.

And yet, you never wanted to go to sleep. All he wanted was for his best girl to get the rest she needed. His heart ached as he watch you resist sleep each night, knowing deep down that the exhaustion was crushing you.

“Baby, come on, you know you’re tired…” Bucky set you down on your side of the bed, watching you fight the exhaustion that weighed your eyelids down. With a labored groan, you sat up, quirking an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

“It’s only like, eleven. I’m not tired, Buck. Come on, let’s go watch a few more episodes of Supernatural”. You tried to escape from the bed, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

He rolled his eyes at your resistance to rest as his hands rested on your shoulders, gently laying you back down. “Why do you do this, sweets? You fight me about going to bed every night”, his cold hand found your cheek, resting gently against your warm skin. “You get up so early and work such long hours- you need your sleep. Why won’t you just let yourself rest?” He was right, and you hated it. In all honesty, you were tired- exhausted, actually.

You didn’t want to admit the truth, but when he stared you down with those icy blue eyes, your resolve crumbled. “It’s just that…I- I work a lot, Buck. And so when I’m home, I wanna stay up as late as I can so that I can spend time with you- as much time as possible”. Your words warmed Bucky’s heart and broke it at the same time. He loved spending time with you; If he could, he’d spend every second with you for the rest of his life- but he didn’t want you sacrificing the rest you so desperately needed.

“Sweetheart…God, you’re adorable. But you can’t do that to yourself- you need your rest. If I were refusing to sleep just so that I could spend time with you, would you be okay with that?” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, staring down at you with a faux frown. He couldn’t help but laugh at the dramatic huff that accompanied your quiet “no”.

With a victorious chuckle, Bucky got you settled in bed and took his spot next to you, wrapping his body protectively around yours like he did every night. The two of you laid together in the dark stillness of your bedroom, relishing in the warmth of one another. With your head resting on Bucky’s chest, resisting sleep became impossible. The steady sound of his heartbeat and the cozy embrace of his arms sent you drifting off into dreamland in no time at all. Bucky listened to your steady breathing, happy to know that his best girl was finally getting some sleep.

But he couldn’t stop himself from worrying about you. He knew he’d be leaving for a mission in just two days, meaning that you’d be left to your own devices. He could see you staying up till all hours of the night without him there to make you go to sleep. He resolved to have a talk with you about it the following evening when you returned from work and surrendered to sleep himself, wrapping his arms around you just a bit tighter as he drifted off.

But his plans to talk to you were dashed by an emergency call from Rhodey at 10 am. Things had grown dicey at the Hydra base they’d been planning to infiltrate and they needed to get there as soon as possible. Bucky shoved clothes into his duffel bag and hopped on his motorcycle, stopping by your office on his way to the compound.

The screeching tires of Bucky’s bike drew the attention of everyone in your building. His frantic form rushed through the doors in search of you, scanning the offices and coming up empty. He was in a massive hurry, and knew he had to get to the compound ASAP, but he had to say goodbye. He only allotted himself five minutes to see you, and if he couldn’t find you in time, he’d have to leave without saying goodbye- and that was not acceptable. Anxiety pushed him onward, desperately searching the building for you as quickly as he could.

The sweet sound of your voice set his mind at ease. He flew to you, pulling you into his arms without paying any mind to your staring coworkers. You tried to ask what he was doing running around your office like a madman, but he cut you off.

“I don’t have a lot of time- I have to leave. Rhodes just called” he took your face in his hands, memorizing each feature just in case he never made it home. “Things went sideways- we’re leaving right now”.

The information sent your mind spinning, leaving you feeling like the rug had been ripped out from under you. The 48 hours that you thought you had left with Bucky were stolen from you just like that, leaving you heartbroken.

“I just needed to come say goodbye” he crushed your lips with his, pouring every ounce of his love into the embrace. “I love you. I love you so much, doll. Take care of yourself while I’m gone- I’m gonna try my best to keep you updated, okay?”

You nodded. Tears welled in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks, leaving mascara-tinged tracks on your skin. Your coworkers looked on, but you couldn’t have cared less- Bucky was leaving, and that’s all that mattered.

“I- okay. I love you, Buck. Be careful. Please”. You leaned into him, deeply inhaling his warm scent, “I need you to come home- I need you here with me”.

He squeezed you as tight as he could without snapping your spine, promising not to take any unnecessary risks. “Promise me that you’ll actually sleep while I’m gone, okay?” He breathed a sigh of relief when you nodded against his chest, and felt a tiny fraction of his anxiety recede.

With one last deep kiss, Bucky was gone. He left you standing in the hallway, teary-eyed and brokenhearted. He was off on yet another dangerous mission, and you had to somehow focus on the rest of your workday.

All Bucky asked of you was that you take care of yourself and get some rest while he was away, but it proved easier said than done. Without Bucky at home waiting for you to return from work, it grew easier to stay at the office later and later. The building fell quiet around you as your coworkers trickled out one by one, going home for an evening of rest and relaxation- but you remained.

It spawned into an unhealthy habit that kept you at work until past nine every night. There was nothing to look forward to upon your return home, only your dark, empty apartment- void of your favorite person. Only when you thought you were going to die of starvation did you head home to make a quick dinner and shower.

You found yourself on the couch each night, wrapped in Bucky’s favorite blanket and sitting alone in front of the tv. If you could focus on a show or a movie, you could avoid falling asleep just a little bit longer. Only when it became physically impossible to stay awake did you let the exhaustion win, falling asleep on the couch instead of the bed you shared with Bucky. Your phone always rested on your chest as you slept, just in case Bucky got a spare moment to send you a text- but your phone remained silent.

It was disheartening to wake each morning without a message from Bucky, but part of you was glad. If you woke up to a text from him, it would mean that you’d missed the opportunity to talk to him, and that was worse than sleep deprivation. Getting in touch with him while he was on a mission was damn near impossible, and if you weren’t able to respond to him in a timely manner, it might be days before he was able to contact you again.

Fatigue plagued your body, leaving you feeling empty and half-dead. Never in your life had you experienced such aggressive exhaustion. A dull ache lived in your head constantly and a thick fog wrapped around your brain, making everything fuzzy. A few coworkers pulled you aside in the breakroom on the fifth day of Bucky’s absence, asking if you were okay. They told you how concerned they were about you, noting the dark circles under your eyes, long hours at the office, and your alarming lack of energy.

The desperate need to stay awake in case Bucky called, paired with the intense worry about his safety swirled into a perfect storm of sleepless nights. Your coworkers could never understand what you were going through, and explaining it was emotional labor that you didn’t have the strength for.

On your thirteenth late night without Bucky, you sat awake in the living room while endless episodes of iZombie played without your attention. Worries about Bucky’s safety plagued you, sending sharp pangs of anxiety through your chest. Your fingers itched to text him, but contacting him while he was on a mission always made you nervous- what if your text was the sound that gave away his location and got him killed? But the pact you’d made with yourself to refrain from contacting him crumbled at your feet as you shot Bucky a quick text.

“Please come home safe. I love you. I miss you so much.”

On the fourteenth day since Bucky’s departure, your phone rang. A quick apology to your coworkers excused you from your meeting, giving you the opportunity to answer Bucky’s call.

“Bucky?” you breathed into the phone, praying that everything was okay. He recognized the worry in your voice and set your anxiety at ease, telling you that he was on his way home.

“Baby, why did I get a text from you at 3:26am?” his expectant tone signaled trouble for you. A sharp cringe twisted your features- shit, you hadn’t thought about the timestamp.

“Relax, Buck. I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and missed you. That’s all”. His silence unnerved you. He knew you were lying and wasn’t happy about it, but told himself to save that conversation for later.

As soon as you possibly could, you ditched your office. Bucky said he’d be home by 8, and you weren’t going to miss out on even a second with him. When you arrived home at 7:49, you sped around the apartment, cleaning and tidying the space for Bucky’s homecoming. The sound of his keys in the door sent your heart leaping into your throat.

“Bucky!” was all you could say as you sped toward the door and launched your body into his waiting arms.

“Sweetheart…” he whispered against your hair, nuzzling his face into your neck with desperation. A comforting warmth bloomed in Bucky’s chest, spreading through his body as he held you close.

“I missed you…”

“I missed you more, Buck”.

He pulled away from your embrace, taking your face in his hands and drinking you in. A frown tugged his features downward as he looked you over, your tired eyes breaking his heart. “Did you get any sleep while I was gone?”

Technically, the answer was yes. You did, in fact, sleep every night that Bucky was gone, just not enough. “Yes, I slept. I promise”, but he wasn’t buying it.

He scooped you up and carried you to the couch, flopping down against the cushions with a sigh. “Alright, this is serious. I need you to talk to me, baby”, he swept a thumb over your cheek, waiting for you to open up- but you didn’t.

“I wasn’t even here, doll,” he let out an exasperated sigh, “You said you don’t like to go to sleep because you want to spend time with me, but I was gone- you could’ve gone to sleep the second you got home from work. I just- I need you to tell me what’s going on”.

Your lips found his neck, sucking at his pulse and sending goosebumps over his skin. His head fell back in ecstasy as you worked slowly over the length of his neck, driving him crazy- until he stopped you.

“Hey, no- come on. You can’t distract me, sweets,” he gently removed your lips from his neck, “talk to me”. With a dramatic sigh, you let your head fall against his shoulder. The truth was embarrassing, and maybe even pathetic.

“When you’re here, I don’t want to waste a second of my time with you, so I don’t want to sleep,” he nodded, “but when you’re gone, I miss you. I um, I stay at work late so that I don’t have to be here in our home without you, and then I stay awake on the couch as late as physically possible. I don’t like being in our bed without you. So I just- I sit out here, waiting to hear from you. I- I don’t want to risk missing a text or a call- even though I know they’re rare...”

Bucky sighed. His hands stroked up and down the length of your spine, bringing you some much needed comfort. “Baby, that’s- that’s very sweet. I mean, it’s good to know that you miss me so much…” he joked, “but you can’t do that to yourself”.

An apathetic shrug raised your shoulders. As far as you were concerned, you’d stay awake until the end of time- no matter how miserable you were- if it meant you got to spend time with Bucky.

“Hey, come on, I need you to listen to me”, he lifted your head from his shoulder and stared into your eyes with a fierce intensity. “When I didn’t want to go to sleep because of my nightmares, you begged me to. All you kept saying was how important sleep is- how if you don’t get enough you could actually die. It’s just not healthy, doll.”

“But I wanna spend time with you…” your voice cracked ever so slightly, betraying just how desperate you were for him, “I miss you. I miss you all the time. And if I have to give up some sleep in order to be with you, I’m fine with that”.

Bucky’s expression grew stern. His brow furrowed and his jaw tensed as he let your words wash over him. “But I’m not”, he argued, “If you don’t sleep, you can have memory issues; it fucks up your judgement and coordination- baby, it’s dangerous. And if you wreck your car or something because you refuse to sleep and I lose you, I’ll- I can’t lose you. You wanna spend time with me, but you can’t do that if you aren’t here…”

Very real anxiety colored Bucky’s voice. His arms encircled your waist and pulled you closer, forcing your body against his with an unmatched desperation.

“I just need you to take care of yourself, sweetheart. Can you please do that? For me?”

You promised without hesitation. You’d never thought about how your bad habit would affect him, and mentally chastised yourself for making him worry. “I’m sorry, Buck. I love you…”

“I love you, too, baby. That’s why I need you to take care of yourself- so I can keep you around for as long as possible”. You snuggled into him, taking in his warm scent and listening to his heartbeat. The weight of his absence fell from your shoulders as the two of you sat there, fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Okay, it’s 8:39 right now. I need a shower and something to eat, but then it's time for bed- for both of us. Deal?” Bucky stared down at you with a stern gaze, only breaking his domineering façade when you agreed to go to sleep.

He got cleaned up from his mission while you changed into pajamas and made a quick dinner for the two of you to share. When the food was decimated and the dishes clean, Bucky carried your fatigued body to bed.

For the first time, you didn’t fight him- you didn’t protest or argue. You allowed him to wrap you snug under the blankets with the utmost care in the way he’d always wanted to. The two of you settled into bed, tangling your limbs together and relishing in the feeling of being reunited.

With your head on Bucky’s chest and his arms wrapped tight around your back, you allowed the strong grasp of sleep to drag you under. Just as you were about to surrender completely, your head lifted from Bucky’s chest. He tried to protest your sudden jolt of energy, but stopped when he heard what you had to say.

“Thank you for taking care of me…I love you, Buck. I’m so glad you’re home”. He leaned upward and met your lips with his in the darkness of your room, whispering an “I love you” right back.

You settled your head back in its rightful place atop Bucky’s chest, placing a light kiss to the scar that fused flesh to metal. With the love of your life home safe, you finally let yourself get the rest you so desperately needed, dreaming of him all night long.

——————————————-

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when you just finished one of the most beautiful fics ever written and you see that the author has a masterlist full of other fics