Bucky Barnes X Y/n - Blog Posts

Telling myself I don’t need to write about virgin Bucky who grew up in a strict household, never touching himself because he doesn’t want to commit a sin. Suppressing every single urge he’s ever felt his entire life. He gets to college and stays at his best friend’s place over the winter break which is great until his best friend’s single mom is the most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. She’s so sweet. So pretty. He knows he’s screwed when he has to excuse himself from the dinner table, taking a hot shower, struggling to get his erection to go away. He lets out a soft little whine, gripping his cock and balls, giving it a squeeze to calm down but it doesn’t work. He swears he’s going to cry, it was so wrong, he had to stop.

I don’t need to write about how he’s gonna end up in her bed. I don’t need to talk about how Subby and needy he is. Scared. Shy. Such a cute little virgin literally never touched in his life. We don’t have to talk about all the things mommy is going to teach him like how to touch himself, giving him instructions to follow like a good boy. We don’t have to talk about how badly he wants to be good, asking if you’re sure this is okay? Isn’t it bad, mommy? Is this wrong? Mommy, are you sure? No mommy, no one’s ever touched me there.

We don’t need to talk about the possessive, jealous daddy he eventually turns into, ruining her till she’s a mess of tears and his cream.

I don’t need to write about it.

Peter: Croissants: dropped

Bucky: Road: works ahead

Loki: BBQ sauce: on my titties

Y/N: Shavacado: fre

Steve:

Steve, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

Y/N: If you had to choose between Steve and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?

Bucky: That depends, how much money are we talking about?

Steve: Bucky!

Y/N: 63 cents.

Bucky: …I’ll take the money.

Steve: BUCKY!!!

i could cry bc this is so beautiful and SO accurate

bucky barnes who doesn’t trust unless it comes to you. whose eyes soften at the sight of you, because his heart knows that it’s okay to let his guard down. he believed the world always had its claws out to get him, until he fell straight into your gentle arms. he tells you the word love meant nothing to him until you came along.

bucky barnes who would live for you. the winter soldier would kill for anyone, the white wolf would die for anyone, but bucky would live for you. he’s never believed in fate, but if it wasn't destiny that brought you to him, he doesn’t know what it was. he thinks maybe it was all worth it, the trauma and the scars and the pain, if it all lead up to the moment when you told him i love you.

bucky barnes who searches for you even in nightmares, screams your name till his lungs burn with self-hatred. you’re his safe space, his home. he’s drawn back to wakefulness as soon as he feels your touch, the gentleness of your breath on his skin like an aching balm to his wounds. he’ll never stop apologising for the burden that comes with his affection, yet he won’t ever stop loving you.

bucky barnes who thinks of hurting you as no less than a sin. who believes even pulling out a single strand of your hair is a hundred times worse than every murder committed as the winter soldier. because what’s a few dozen people in comparison to his whole universe?

bucky barnes who wakes up a little earlier in the morning; not to see the sun rise, but to watch the soft rays dapple your face. he thinks you look angelic, the golden hue painting you in so much beauty that he feels blessed; wonders if he oughts to start praying to gods he never once believed in.

bucky barnes who tells you he loves you more times than he can count. whose voice is hardened from years of tortured, ragged cries; but the word doll tumbles out of his lips like soft petals when he looks at you. he knows seven different tongues, and is fluent in every single one. he claims that none of them have the words to describe how you make him feel.

bucky barnes who kisses like a hungry dog, like there’s an ache in his soul that can only be filled by the feeling of your lips on his, skin to skin. he believes the sole purpose of his metal arm is to pin you to the wall. roughness is the only form of love he’s ever known.

bucky barnes who buys you everything you talk about in passing, who takes you out wherever your heart yearns to go, who kisses your knuckles with the softest touch of his lips. he inhales when you exhale at night to make space for the rise of your chest. he only ever holds your hand with his non-metal one so as to not hurt you. he traces your features while you sleep. he loves you with the full force of the word, because you’re his girl.

bucky barnes who could never unlove you, would never want to. even if the strings of his soul were tied to another, he would cut them off and run straight to you.

need

roommate! bucky barnes x reader

summary || Bucky gets horny while watching a movie.

warnings || handjob, crack fic — MINORS DNI

divider by @firefly-graphics

I don’t even know what this is lmaooo.

You stifled a yawn as you stretched your legs further into Bucky’s lap, it was a tradition now since your feet always got cold. Your eyes were drooping low, but you shook your head to stay awake. The TV was throwing colours over the overwise dark room and you were getting sleepy looking at the bright screen.

“That boring?” Bucky asked, turning away from the stupid horror movie he had chosen. “No. I’m just very tired.” You lied. You were sleepy, while watching a horror movie, and it wasn’t even halfway through. The movie was just downright terrible.

“Don’t lie. I know it’s awful. Kinda was a bad pick.” Bucky said dejectedly. “Uff, glad to know I’m not the only one who thinks this is pathetic.” Bucky was a little touchy when it came to the movies he selected, so you tended not to usually criticise them in front of him.

You were about to switch off the TV when suddenly the main characters started making out, in the middle of a haunted house. You wanted to roll your eyes, but the scenes were oddly arousing. The scenes progressed further until they were literally fucking in the dilapidated room.

You wiggled your feet a little in Bucky’s lap to get more comfortable, but then foot accidentally touched something hard and hot in his pants. You both stilled and left the TV to look straight into each other’s eyes.

A devilish idea crossed in your head and you pressed your foot down a little harder. He hissed through his teeth and yet didn’t stop you, so you decided to continue rubbing your foot over his tented pants. But then you purposely took your leg away to gauge his reaction.

“Don’t tease me doll.” His voice was raspy as he looked at you with lust blown eyes. You crawled further until you were right next to him. In the dim light of the TV playing the now forgotten movie, you could see his blue eyes sparkling.

Bucky was a gorgeous man and you’d be a fool to not want him. Bucky placed his hand on your chin and smashed your lips together in a passionate kiss. You trailed your hand down the hard planes of his body as you kissed him.

“Fuck.” He cursed when you slipped your hand into his pants and curled your hand around his hot length. You pressed tight circles on his slit with your thumb and spread the precum. He closed his eyes and leaned against the sofa once you started moving your hand along his length.

You had accidentally seen Bucky naked once, and you knew he was well endowed. But jerking him off was a whole another experience. Your eyes weren’t leaving Bucky’s face because he looked absolutely magnificent, his eyes closed and his plump lip trapped between his teeth as he relaxed.

“I’ve wanted this for so long… fuck!” He sighed as you twisted your hand around his head. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” You asked as you started moving your hand faster. “I… I thought you didn’t want… fuck, I’m going to cum!”

“No wait! Not on the couch please!” You cried out. You were about to take your hand away, but Bucky held you there. “Please god, don’t stop!” His hand guided your fist to go faster. “Bucky! You’re going to ruin the couch and the carpet.”

“No. Take…” he closed his eyes and you could feel that he was on the edge as his cock twitched in your hand. “Take the mug.. quick!” Following Bucky blindly, you took the first cup you could reach on the table. Bucky groaned loudly as he came and you collected his cum in the cup.

Bucky’s body sagged into the couch when he came down from the orgasmic high. You giggled like idiots about what just had happened before your eyes went back to the mug. “Oh my god Bucky! You just ruined my favourite coffee cup!” You screamed.

“I wouldn’t say ruined it…. umm, I just added some extra cream.” He said laughing at his own joke. “Ewww. Not funny.” You said making a face. Bucky pulled you back in his arms and held you there. Soon, you too started laughing on the absurdity of the whole situation. “Well, it was still better than the movie.”

Bucky *screeching*: YOU MEAN A LOT TO ME!

Y/N: wh-

Bucky: YOU’RE ESSENTIAL TO MY EXISTENCE!

Y/N:why are you screaming??

Bucky: BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF! IT HELPS TO YELL SENTIMENTAL THINGS IN AN AGRESSIVE TONE!

Y/N: I-

Bucky: I FUCKING LOVE YOU!

paranormal love

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes x fem!reader

a/n: Bucky is going to be very OOC for the first half of this. Just trust the author on this one, it will all make sense in time. (Toxic relationships, paranormal happenings - you have been warned)

Summary: Moving into this house was supposed to be the blessing your marriage needed. Instead you only seem to be twisted against each other. Something lurks within these walls, something angry, something lonely. Someone wants you gone, and he’ll do whatever it takes to have his revenge on the woman who left him behind. (Part of my Halloween Palooza)

“Okay,” you say, balancing the camera in your palm, zooming in on James’ back while he unpacks the kitchen boxes. “Wanna smile for the camera?”

He gives you a glance over his shoulder before turning and waving to the camera. He chuckles a little, glancing down at the lens and then back at you. “What are you doing?”

You sigh, placing the camera on the counter and letting it record. “Well, you know how the lady said this place was haunted?”

He rolls his eyes and glares at you. “I told you not to listen to her, that chick was off her meds.” You swat at his arm but he bounces away from you playfully. 

“Shut up,” you mutter, holding back a small laugh. “I just thought that if there were any supernatural happenings,” you nod towards the camera, “we’ll need proof if we’re going to make this a tourist trap.”

James smiles, leaning over to press a brief kiss to your forehead. “Good call, babe.” You smile after him as he heads back out to the truck to bring in more boxes. Your eyes briefly dart to the camera before you shake your head with a disbelieving chuckle. 

Do you believe in the supernatural? Yes. The metaphysical? Depends on who’s trying to sell you their tarot cards. But you do know that when that woman handed you the keys after you bought the place, you’d never seen such stark relief. 

That poor old woman was terrified of living in this house alone. Of course, the old bitch didn’t tell you about all the horrific things that happened here until after you signed the deed. If you had known this place was haunted, even if it’s not, you never would have bought it. 

Sadly, all your money and savings are now tied into this home. James says not to worry, that there’s nothing wrong with the place. But he’s always been a cynic and he’s never really believed in anything so miraculous as ghosts. Besides, he’s the type of guy to argue with you until he’s purple in the face that the sky is red when he’s in a mood. 

There’s no talking him out of this. And you can’t begin your newlywed life arguing with your husband about the place you just made your forever home. Anyways, it’s not like you’ve noticed anything bad yet. 

The camera is mainly a joke to mess with James and make yourself feel better about the whole thing. You’ll turn it off tonight, be done with it, and hopefully get over this irrational fear of yours. 

12 AM

You spit the toothpaste into the sink and rinse your mouth with water. You’ve noticed a strange metallic taste with all the unfiltered sinks. You're worried you might have to call a plumber or someone to check it out. You don’t want to get lead poisoning your first night here. 

You freeze, still bent over the sink, and your jaw snaps shut. Eyes are boring into the back of your head, hateful and angry. It’s not James, you would know if it was. This is something different, the hair on the back of your neck is standing up, goosebumps rolling up and down your arms. There’s a rush of cool air, like something running past you, and your head shoots up in surprise. 

You scream when you see James in the mirror’s reflection. He jumps back in shock, lowering the camera and giving you an exasperated look. A second ago you’d been completely alone and he’d been downstairs, where the fuck did he come from?

“What the hell, James?” You wipe your mouth off with the back of your hand and whirl around on him. He glares at you, eyes narrowed in dissatisfaction. 

“Talk about an overreaction. What the hell is your problem?” He snaps, taking that tone with you that you know means you have to be careful. You don’t feel like getting into another fight with him. Especially not tonight. 

“You scared me,” you trail off into an awkward laugh, hoping to ease up the mood a little. He slams the camera down on the counter. Your shoulders jump and you flinch back from him slightly. “What’re you doing with the camera?” You ask, glancing down at the lens and frowning. You spot the red blinking light and realize he’s still recording, your brows furrow in confusion. 

“It was your idea, wasn’t it?” His tone is short and you huff in disappointment. You hadn’t realized something as small as a little scare would piss him off. You used to be good at reading his moods. Since the wedding, though, he seems to have just gotten more and more unpredictable. 

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, your feet dangling over the floor as you kick your legs. You hate how tall the damn bed frame is, you have a horrible paranoia that something’s going to grab you one day and yank you under. James, of course, had just laughed when you told him this and then bought it. He thought it was funny, that it would help you overcome your fears. 

You still have goosebumps from earlier, the same breeze from before tickles the pads of your feet. You glance down with wide eyes, yanking your legs into your chest and scooting back from the edge. James flips the lights off in the bathroom and walks to the end of the bed. He’s dragged out the tripod and has got it pointed at the bed. 

You tilt your head with a coy smile, “Planning on having some fun tonight?”

He glances between you and the camera, a confused furrow between his brows. You scoff out a laugh as the realization dawns over him. “If you’re up for it, I wouldn’t mind some after-dark fun.” You roll your eyes and tug the covers over your legs. He leaves the camera and crawls on the bed towards you. “But that’s not what it's for.”

“Oh yeah?” You glance over his shoulder and then turn back to him with an odd look. “Don’t tell me you’re buying into the supernatural junk?” You tuck your head into his chest, letting him pull you closer as he flips the lamp off. “You’re supposed to keep me tethered to reality, remember?” You tease, looking up at him. 

He glances down at you and shrugs. “The lady did say the master bedroom is the worst, I’m just curious if we’ll catch anything.” 

You shoot the camera a concerned look and shake your head. “I hope not,” you mutter. You snuggle in closer to him, trying to dismiss the feeling of someone watching you. You’re sure it’s just from the camera being on you. Besides, you always get too deep in your head about this stuff.

3 AM

You shoot up in bed, chest heaving as you stare down at your feet. James shifts behind you, grumbling as he flips over and steals the rest of the blankets. 

Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest as you simply sit there, staring at the end of the bed. You pause, holding your breath like the room might tell you its secrets. 

You’re normally a heavy sleeper, not even a fire would get you up. But something just did, you were ripped violently from your slumber. You almost want to dismiss it as an incredibly vivid nightmare. Yet, you can’t ignore the throbbing, almost freezing pain, that’s shooting up and down your left calf. 

The muscle is spasming sporadically and you can still feel the phantom touch of someone squeezing your leg. Your hip is sore from where you’d been dragged down. You’ve had pretty vivid dreams before. You’ve woken up with your feet sore like you’d been running, or your muscles cramped from twitching around so much. But this is a lot. 

You take in a deep breath, slowly pulling your legs into your chest. You slump over your bent knees, hoping to catch your breath and settle your racing mind. It’s impossible to ignore how cold your leg feels, you feel like you’re losing blood circulation. You can’t just go back to sleep with it like this, you’re gonna have to go downstairs and get James’ heat pack. 

You’re seriously starting to lose feeling in it now. You’re wondering if something didn’t drag you and maybe you’ve got a blood clot screwing your circulation up somehow. Hundreds of different possibilities race through your mind, each more worrying than the last. You can't sit up all night scaring yourself, you’re just gonna have to suck it up. 

You briefly consider waking James up so you don’t have to go downstairs alone. You hate how those stairs look in the dark, you feel like something is standing at the end, waiting to reach through the banister and drag you down. A ghost, however, sounds more inviting than making James grumpy before he has to go in for work tomorrow morning. 

With a heavy sigh, you force yourself off the bed and blindly grope through the dark for the wall. Your left leg is practically dead weight as you drag it behind you. Your hands skate along the dusty walls and you grimace, making a mental note to dust tomorrow. 

You’re trying to take it slow, to squint out as many shapes in the dark as you can. It’s nearly impossible to tell when you’re going to hit the stairs. You can only pray that you don’t go toppling headfirst down them. 

Slowly, you inch your toes forward and curl them around the edge of the step. From there it’s a long, arduous process of just trying to get down the stairs. It feels as though with each step you take, the house only grows darker. 

You wished you had taken the risk and turned the lights on. The feeling of eyes following you only gets worse as you finally reach the kitchen. The further you get from the bedroom, the worse your leg begins to throb. You can only be happy that you still feel it at all. 

Your hand skates along the wall until you feel the cool plastic of the light switch. As harsh as it is against the linoleum, it’s a stark relief from being all alone in the dark. You dig around in the moving boxes until you find James' heating pad. You toss it in the microwave and pull yourself on the counter, drumming your fingers while you wait for it to warm up. 

He hates you. He hates that you live in his house. He hates that she’s gone. Bette, he’ll miss her, the way the old woman’s face would screw up in terror always brought a sick satisfaction to him. 

You press the warm pad to your leg and hiss through your teeth as feeling begins returning to your calf. He has to admit, he hadn’t meant to grab you quite so hard. He just wanted one good scare, to either get you out of here or show you who's in charge. Your leg has turned an odd color in the shape of his handprint and it makes his lips curl up. 

There’s a loud ringing from upstairs. It grates on his already frayed nerves and makes anger roll off of him in violent, tangible waves. Your nose twitches, your face screwing up as you look around. There’s a suspicious glint in your eye, one your little husband doesn’t share with you. 

He has to admit, you’re smart enough to realize the truth of your situation, at least. Your husband doesn’t share the same characteristic. He seems alarmingly self-assured, not that he minds, those are his favorite types to break. 

He can hear upstairs, better than you would ever hope to. He listens as your husband picks up the phone, quietly yelling at someone on the other end. A woman, if the timbre is anything to go by. They both sound incredibly angry. He’s not interested in listening to something as trivial as this. 

He turns away from you and moves towards the stairs. He pauses at the base of them, glancing over his shoulder and really taking you in. You look so small, curled up on the counter with the look of a frightened child. 

You scream as the lightbulb above you explodes, plunging you into complete darkness. He smiles to himself, drifting up the stairs and lingering at the end of your bed. Your husband’s head shoots up in alarm and he pulls the phone away from his ear. 

The name Martha lingers on the small screen before he quickly flips it off and rushes out of bed. He blows right through the man at the end of his bed, flipping on the lights and racing down the stairs. He calls out your name, voice frantic and bordering on paranoia. 

He hadn’t thought you two would get scared quite so quickly. He’d been hoping to enjoy this a bit more. Perhaps he should slow down, and savor the long fall into madness before he claims you both. He hovers at the top of the stairs, watching as your husband comforts you. 

He’s got his arms wrapped around you, trying to keep you quiet and get you to calm down. From a distance, he could almost be the perfect husband. But that look is all too familiar, he’s seen it a hundred times before. It’s only now that he recognizes it for what it is. There is no love in your husband’s gaze, only the fear that you’ll find out his little secret. 

He goes back into the bedroom, swipes the phone off the nightstand, and retreats into the shadows. 

“Don’t,” you slap James’ hands away from you, glaring at him. He purses his lips, huffing out a sharp breath and taking a step back. Anger brews under your skin, warms you up, and makes your jaw ache from how hard you’re clenching down. 

“How can you say I made it up?” You shout, no longer caring how loud you are. Your voice cracks at the end as you take on a shrill pitch. You yank up the leg of your yoga pants, shoving your leg towards him. 

Not only has the skin dipped in the perfect shape of a hand, but it’s also turned into an unnatural shade of green and purple. It’s like no bruise or injury you’ve ever had before. James looks down at the mark like it’s a bug to be squashed or a pile of dog shit he just stepped in. 

He fixes you with a sneer and shoves it away from him. You let out a harsh breath and stumble slightly into the counter. “Would you quit fucking showing me that? It’s freaking me out.”

You throw your hands up in the air, giving him an eat-shit look. “How do you think I feel? It happened to me.”

He shakes his head and turns towards the coffee pot, pouring himself another mug. You can’t believe how dismissive he’s being about this whole thing. You have indisputable proof burned into your flesh, and he’s completely ignoring your worries. 

“We need to get you to the doctor, okay?” He shakes his head, giving you the look of a disapproving parent, rather than the supportive husband he’s supposed to be. He hadn’t even been worried for you last night, just mad that you’d woken him up for nothing. 

“It’s probably a blood clot, not a damn poltergeist.”

“James-” His phone ringing cuts you off, and your eyes narrow in disbelief as he reaches for it. It’s closer to you on the counter so you snatch it up before he can grab it. 

“What are you doing?” He demands, taking on a concerningly low tone. 

“We’re going to talk about this, you’re not getting out of this one, James!” 

He whispers your name in a voice you haven’t heard before. His face is dark, brows set in determination as he slowly extends his hand. “Give me my phone.”

You glance at the Nokia and then back at him. The fear that’s been ever-present since last night turns into something else. Anxiety and suspicion make a wicked and nauseating brew in your stomach. “Why?” You whisper, eyes narrowing on him as he takes a step closer. You stumble a step back, holding the phone out of his reach. 

You feel your hand tremble with its vibrations before it begins to ring again. You look towards it just as James lunges forward. His shoulder nearly barrels into you as he grabs your wrist. His grip is so tight you almost feel the bones creaking together. “James!” You gasp, the phone tumbling from your palm and into his hand. He shoves you back, tucking it in his pocket and glaring at you. 

“Don’t touch my phone,” you open your mouth to argue and he takes a large step forward. His foot slams against the ground and you flinch back from him, eyes wide in surprise. “Do you understand me,” he demands, slowly and his voice low. 

You nod, your jaw gaping as you stare at him. He runs a hand through his hair, refusing to meet your eye now. Dark strands fall onto his forehead and he looks more disheveled than you’ve seen him in a long while. 

He looks at his watch and clenches his eyes shut. He pauses, taking in a deep breath as he straightens his tie and rounds the kitchen island. “What are you doing?” You ask, your voice so quiet you’re surprised he even hears it. 

“Going to work,” he snaps. You can’t look at him, you just keep your eyes glued to the floor as the door slams shut. You hold your breath until you hear the car going down the driveway. Ever so slowly, you peel yourself away from the counter. 

Your hand drifts, without thinking, to the imprints on your wrist. “What the fuck,” you mutter, a stunned sort of silence taking over. You can’t help but just stand there, completely dumbfounded by how quickly a simple argument escalated. 

He’s always had a shorter temper than most, but that was extreme. A door slams upstairs and you scream, leaping forward and whirling towards the noise.  “What the fuck!” You shout again, stumbling towards the knife block behind you. You can hear footsteps running upstairs and swallow around a ball of fear sinking in your throat. 

You almost call out ‘whos there,’ but that’s a little too stupid for you. You’re not planning on being the bimbo who dies first in every horror movie. As much as James likes to tease you for being a little simple sometimes, you are equipped with basic survival skills. 

You look towards the coffee maker, the port where your home phone should be is empty. You rush towards the windows, glancing out the driveway and cursing when you find it empty. You were hoping that James might still be in his car, steaming before he comes back in to apologize. But, no, he’s really gone. 

Another door slams and it feels a little petty. Despite the way your heart races and you’re struggling to catch your breath, you don’t feel like you’re in any immediate danger. The looming presence that hung over you last night is gone. James had dismissed the lightbulb exploding as an old house and bad lighting. 

You know better, despite the claims otherwise, and you sincerely doubt that there’s an actual person upstairs. And whatever it is, was smart enough to steal your phone. You slink towards the end of the stairs, just barely craning your neck so you can see into your bedroom. Except the door isn’t open like you left it. 

Light comes through the crack of the closed door. You take a tentative step up, eyes squinting as you try and get a glimpse under the door. A shadow darts past, like rushing footsteps. You gasp, leaping back and covering your mouth with trembling hands. 

The hair on the back of your neck stands, and the loose hairs from your braids blow across your cheeks, tickling your sensitive skin. Old vents, that’s what James told you. His attempt to explain the inexplicable breeze that seems to be following you everywhere you go. You’re bundled head to toe in fuzzy socks, warm pants, and a too-big sweatshirt. And still, you feel your fingers nearly go numb and you can barely feel your nose anymore. 

That’s not a poor AC system. And those aren’t feet under your door. You’re so focused on simply watching the movements under the door that you completely forget anything else. You’re blind and deaf as you watch whatever is moving about in your room. A loud clank breaks through the silence and you nearly scream. 

Your bones almost jump out of your skin as the ice machine starts going and rattles up the old fridge. You clench your eyes shut, taking in a deep breath and glaring at the white machine. “Fuck me,” you mutter, holding your chest and just barely calming yourself down. 

You’ve only been here a night, you shouldn’t be so fucking terrified. You’re ready to just go out into the backyard and wait the rest of the day for James to come back. If you could drive off, you would. But you’ve only got one working car right now and he’s taken it to work. You move to grab your laptop off the couch when something creaks behind you. 

Old hinges cry out as they’re slowly forced to work. The sound of steps going down the stairs occupies the space behind you. You can’t find the bravery to turn around, too scared to see what might be there. Something ice cold passes through you. It nearly feels like a violation, as though something was rooting through your insides like it belonged there. It couldn’t have lasted more than two seconds but it was more than enough to have you nearly vomiting up your scarce breakfast. 

The moment it’s over you feel yourself calming down. As though an instinctual intuition has been activated, you know the danger’s passed. Whatever it had been trying to accomplish with that little show, it did it. 

You turn back to your room, the lights off and the door open, looking just as you left it. You glance over your shoulder, looking into the kitchen before starting up the stairs. You give a hesitant peek into the room like you expect it to be a wreck. But it looks spotless, the camera is in the same place James left it, still recording. 

You file that away in the back of your mind. Maybe the camera picked up what happened last night, or maybe James is right. You really are just getting too far into your head. A shrill ringing goes off near James nightstand and you frown. Your phone buzzes on his side of the bed, MOM lighting up the square screen. 

You let out a short huff, quickly snatching your phone and answering. Maybe she can talk some sense into you, or, more preferably, come over to keep you company. “Hey mom,” you answer, smiling slightly to yourself. It’s been a little while since you’ve been able to talk to her. James had banned phones after the honeymoon and then you’d gotten caught up in house stuff, jobs, and the aftermath of the wedding ‘incident.’

An older voice than you’d been expecting answers on the other end, saying your name in a confused tone. Your brows furrow and you frown, “Mrs. Barnes?”

“Honey,” she sounds strained, like she really hadn’t been expecting you to answer. James must have taken your phone by accident. It makes sense, they’re both the same model, but you put a little pink charm on your Nokia so you’d stop making this mistake. Yet, when you look to your left, you see your charm lying on your nightstand. When had you taken that off?

“Where’s James?”

“Um,” you’re still a little thrown off by her voice and take a second to answer. “Work, I think he took the wrong phone,” you laugh a little, disconcerted that it’s not your mother’s comforting voice. 

“Must have,” she answers, she sounds like she’s a million miles away, her tone distant. “Well, um, just tell him to call me back.”

“Alright,” you hesitate, concerned by how off she sounds. “Is everything alright?” You know things have been tough for her since her husband passed on. James’ sisters have been helping her adjust, but the wedding had taken him away from his family for a little while. He hasn’t actually shown any signs of wanting to reach out and it makes you feel guilty, like you’re keeping him away from her. 

Mrs. Barnes, a living saint you swear, has been nothing but kind as she welcomes you into her family. This is the first time she’s ever been so distant to you. You act more like her family than James does nowadays. 

“Has, uh,” she coughs, clearing her throat. You can almost hear what sounds like Francesca on the other end, hollering at her. The sound of James’ older sister’s voice makes you smile a little wider. “Has James said anything to you?”

Your brows furrow and you shake your head in confusion, even if she can’t see you. “About what?”

“Oh, crumbs,” she huffs and you have a feeling whatever she was about to say was important, but someone is snatching the phone away before you can hear the rest of it. You’d been so focused on her voice that you hadn’t even heard James come back in. 

He glares down at the phone, face pale and eyes wide like he’s expecting something horrific. When he places it to his ear and hears his mom’s voice, his shoulders slump in relief. You narrow your eyes at him, disoriented by the strange behavior. 

“Mom,” he interrupts her rudely, “I’ll call you later. Okay?” He hangs up before she can answer. He tugs your phone out of his pocket and tosses it next to you on the bed. “Answering my phone now? What are you, my secretary?”

You slip your phone into your back pocket, not looking at him as you get off the bed. “I thought it was mine. I think my charm broke off.” You put some distance between the two of you, glancing down at his phone and then back at him. “Why are you being so weird about it?”

He flinches like you’ve just accused him of something far worse than being overly protective of his phone. “I don’t like you digging around in my phone. That’s a problem now?” You open your mouth to argue, but he just keeps going, cutting you off, “You’re so goddamn paranoid. First the ghost, now this,” he gestures vaguely at you and you scoff, crossing your arms and glaring at him. 

You two are devolving far quicker than he had anticipated. It must have been a fragile relationship, to begin with. James slams the door and you slump down on the bed, you almost look like you want to cry. 

He goes down the stairs, watching through the window as your husband lingers on the front porch. He calls someone, his mom, and starts yelling at her as he gets to his car. Looking away from the window, he sighs. 

He’d been close, if James hadn’t come home he probably could have pushed you over the edge immediately. He doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or happy that his game gets to go on a little longer.

You come back down the stairs, eyes rimmed red and shoulders slumped in defeat. You brush through him, not even noticing the chill he leaves behind in you. You have the camera in your hand and a cord in the other. He grins, excited to finally have you see the truth of what happened last night. 

You plug the camera into your laptop, scrubbing through the footage of last night. He leans over your shoulder and watches as goosebumps rise along your skin. You sigh, tugging a blanket over your shoulders, but he knows that won’t do anything to help you. 

Nothing will unless you leave. But your husband has made it clear that you’re not getting out of here until he has actual proof anything supernatural lurks inside these haunted walls. Right here, in your lap, you have your proof. A phantom wind blows up the sheets of the bed, an unexplainable tug of your leg that drags you halfway down the bed. It’s violent and he almost feels sorry, he really hadn’t meant to hurt you, only scare you. 

His fingers drift over your leg and you jump, whirling around, wide eyes looking right through him. He can’t help but admire the way fear makes them shine. You’re quite pretty when you’re terrified, he couldn’t say the same for the hag that used to live here. 

You’re slow to turn back to the computer, but when you do, there’s a slight curve to your lips that he appreciates. “I fucking knew it,” you whisper, slamming the screen closed and getting to your feet. 

You’re giddy, he can taste the satisfaction overpowering the fear. You round the couch, taking in a deep breath and shaking out your arms. Your face sets in determination and you start working on clearing out the moving boxes. 

He doesn’t feel the urge to mess with you any further. He leaves you in peace, lounging in your armchair and watching you work. He’s got a nice surprise worked up for you tonight, no need to take today’s playtime any further. 

You’re efficient, only occasionally getting distracted as you smile at pictures of your wedding day. You put those up on the mantle, beside some family photos. It’s clear how much you value your familial bonds, even your husbands. You put it front and center in the home, reminding him of how it once looked. 

There’s a stark sense of deja vu as he watches you work, a nauseating feeling of what could have been. He can practically taste the newlywed bliss you’re going through. Even with your husband being a piece of work, you still value him, love him. He’d once known that love, hell, he’d reveled in it. 

But the curtain always has to come down. The magic’s never real. He’s doing you a favor by showing you the truth of it all. His gaze drifts away from you cooking dinner and he looks towards the pictures on the mantle. 

James’ mother reminds him of his own. He always wondered what happened to her, what her life was like after he was gone. Neither of them ever got what they wanted. She died wondering what happened to her only son, and he died without getting to say goodbye. 

He thinks of Bette, and feels that familiar white-hot rush of anger, your scream comes a moment later. He glances towards you, confused, before he follows your eyes and sees that he’s accidentally shattered the frames of the pictures. 

You gasp, sucking in shallow breaths as you stumble into the counter, brows furrowed in terror. He clenches his eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath, and tamps down on the anger overwhelming him. 

The door opens and your socked feet go rushing towards it, you nearly slip on the hardwoods, arms spinning wildly as you right yourself. James flinches away from your frantic hands as you grab his jacket and drag him inside. “The fucking pictures,” you stutter out your words and point frantically towards the mantle. 

James grimaces, tugging at your hands and looking towards him. He doesn’t see him, of course he doesn’t. But he does see his little accident. James scoffs, face screwing up in anger, he turns towards you. His face is set like a disappointed parent. “You broke them? Our wedding pictures, seriously. All because of a stupid fight?”

He jerks away from you, storming towards the glass and kicking at it. “You didn’t even clean it up,” he says your name, tone increasing in anger. You stare at him, disbelieving and open-mouthed. 

He sits back on the armchair, thoroughly amused. He hadn’t even had to do anything to turn him against you. Your sweet James has just been waiting for a reason to get mad. “This is fucking petty, even for you.”

“What, James,” you stumble over your words, taking a hesitant step towards him. He thinks you’re pretty when you’re scared, but not like this. He doesn’t appreciate the way you approach your husband like he’s a rabid dog. You shouldn’t be scared of him, not yet at least. He hasn’t even had his fun with him yet. 

“It wasn’t me, I swear-”

“Not this ghost shit again, seriously-”

“I have proof!” You shout, your voice is desperate as you try and make yourself louder than him. You run towards your laptop, and ignore the burning smell coming from the oven. He gets up, drifting towards it and turning it off before either of you can notice. No point in having the house burn down. Where would that leave him?

You plug the camera in, turning the screen towards him. James doesn’t make a move yet, simply glaring at you like you’re a bug to be swatted. “Please,” you beg, pathetic and needy. He huffs, rolling his eyes as he watches you both. It’s all so familiar to him, he feels like he’s watching his unfortunate disaster of a marriage play out through you. 

You scrub through the times, cussing as you pass over the clip of you getting dragged. There’s a frantic look in your eye as you hit play. It almost makes him feel bad for what’s about to happen. 

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” James snaps. 

Your face falls and you move the mouse forward and back, looking like a madwoman as you try to find the right moment. You won’t, he made sure of that. Nothing but static plays when you get to the parts that would prove your innocence. 

James tugs at his tie, shaking his head in disappointment. “Not only did you fuck up all our pictures, you didn’t even have dinner ready.” He shoves past you, heading up the stairs and muttering to himself. He pulls out his phone, lingering on a contact he shouldn’t before pressing call. 

You stay still in the living room, looking at the shattered glass and then the oven. “I made your favorite,” you whisper. You suck in a shaky breath, swallowing hard as you kneel down to try and pick up the remnants of your wedding photos. 

3 AM

He sits on the bed, glancing towards the blinking red light of the camera. There’s a clear wall between you and your husband, even if neither of you wants to acknowledge it. You lay curled up in yourself, like a child afraid to seek comfort. He pities you, truly. 

He remembers the happiness of youth, the rush of being married to the person you believe is the love of your life. He will never forget the pain of realizing the person you’ve given everything to turning into someone you don’t recognize. 

His hand drifts over the swell of your cheek. Your lashes flutter, nose wrinkling at the cold brush of his touch. But you don’t flinch away from him, instead leaning into him and looking almost happy by his touch. 

He looks to your husband, eyes narrowing on his relaxed form. He sees the phone lying near him and his face sets in determination. He’s not going to let you fall into the same trap he did. And he certainly isn’t about to let another soul cramp the already stuffy walls of his home. 

It’s been quiet around the house. Less strange events and more strained dinners between you and your husband. You’ve taken to bringing the camera everywhere with you. But anytime a light bulb explodes or a frame topples over, the video goes static. 

You should have given up the hunt for evidence but you can’t give it up. You just need James to see, you need him to believe you. Or, at the very least, you need some assurance that you’re not going crazy. You’ve begun to consider the possibility. 

The bruise on your leg is gone, the constant chills that rack you are still very much present, but there’s nothing else. Everything that happens can be explained by the age of the house. You’ve only briefly discussed it with James’ sisters. Elizabeth gave you the number of a medium she knows. 

James had gotten angry when he found the business card after her visit. He didn’t like her filling your head with more nonsense and indulging you. You didn’t like how dismissive he was. It’s been a few days since the fight and you still have no desire to reconcile with him. 

It’s becoming easier to simply ignore his presence around the house. You know it’s not healthy. You’ve only just begun the marriage, you don’t need to have communication issues tainting it before it’s even on its legs. 

Still, it’s as though something’s keeping you from him. Every attempt at speaking with him is interrupted, thoughts of apologizing just to placate him are struck from your head quicker than they come. 

You stand up from the kitchen table, placing your pictures to the side. You’ve finally gotten new frames for them all, you only need to put them back up. You have no problems putting up the family pictures. Yet, the moment you make to grab the wedding picture of you and James, you grow inexplicably tired. 

Your eyelids flutter shut and you sway on your feet. Your bones grow heavy like you’ve been working all day. But you’ve only been up a few hours, and you had so much more to do today. You try and fight forward, leaning on the table and reaching for the portrait again. You almost feel like you’re nudged back, moved towards the couch. 

A short nap, you promise yourself. Just long enough to get your energy back. 

He followed him to work. That’s never happened before. He’s never been able to follow someone out of the house. He tried, with Steve, he tried to make every aspect of his life hell. But he couldn’t. 

Yet, with this one, he has no problem following him. Maybe it’s the odd resemblance they have. A haircut and a shave, they could be identical twins. But then again, he hasn’t seen his face in a long while, perhaps he’s misremembering it. 

It’s difficult to maintain this control. Half of him lingers in the house, with you, the other half is here. He’s being drawn closer to James and further from you. He doesn’t know if that’s conducive or an interruption to his plans. 

He only vaguely sees you, in his mind’s eye. He leads you to the couch, lays you down, and keeps you away from the reminders of James. He’s gotten good at keeping you both separated. It was easy to begin with, all he’s doing is showing you the truth of the man you married. If only he could really show you. 

James phone rings and he focuses on him once more. It’s Martha again. He hasn’t figured out the truth of their relationship, he’s sure he already knows it. He’s lived this life once, knows the truth of why a husband would act like this. The late-night calls, the constant misdirection of anger. 

He’s paranoid, terrified you’ll find out the truth. He wants to have his cake and eat it too. The perfect housewife at home, and the mistress who fulfills his every desire. At least, that’s his theory. He still needs to be completely sure. 

He ignores James, focusing once more on his connection to the house. He finds you right where he left you, deep in your sleep and completely oblivious to the world around you. He kneels before you, sweeping some hair off your cheeks and tilting his head as he takes in your restful face. 

You look so peaceful when you’re like this, a slight curl to your lips as you wander through dreamland. He wished he could keep you like this, wished he could completely get rid of James. But without him, you wouldn’t be able to keep the house. You’d leave it, leave him. He can’t have that. He’s been lonely for so long, he needs you, craves you. 

6 PM

“How was work?”

“Fine.”

Chewing fills the cavernous silence of your dining room. Forks scrape across porcelain, shallow breaths as you both dance around the tension that threatens to tie a noose around your marriage. You reach for your wine, hoping for another heady swallow. Just like before, you’re dissuaded from it. 

You grow tired at the thought of drowning your sorrows in the alcohol for another night. You clench your eyes shut and take a deep breath, moving the glass away from you and turning back to the roast you made. 

James’ brows furrow as he watches you. “Everything alright?”

You hum, “Tired.” He scoffs and your face falls flat. He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath as he cuts more aggressively into the meat. "Something wrong?” You demand, sucking on your teeth as you anticipate his answer. You’re sure it’s going to be the same broken record he’s been playing since the honeymoon. 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, tone dismissive. He pauses, taking a deep breath before laughing sardonically. “It’s just funny.” You hate how he does this, drags out his answers, and forces you to take the bait. 

You’re not playing this game of his tonight. You won’t do it again. You can’t keep going in circles with him, can’t keep indulging him in these childish tantrums. He waits, eyebrows raised and pretty blue eyes boring into yours, demanding attention. 

Those damn eyes. You wish he was just a little uglier, maybe then you wouldn’t have been so blind to how fucking awful he really is. You almost resent his mother and sisters for this. They could have warned you off, told you the horror stories of his past before the wedding. Instead, they’d warned you after it was too late and your entire life was entangled in his. 

“I work all day, come home, want a peaceful meal. What do I get?”

He falls silent again and you let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know, James,” you drawl, bored of this already. Your patience for him is practically nonexistent nowadays. You used to be able to endure these conversations with him, or at the very least soothe him. But you’re tired of feeling like a babysitter and not the wife you’re supposed to be. “What do you get? A homecooked meal, a clean house, someone to come home to. Tell me,” you demand, slamming your hand on the table and surprising him. “What the fuck do you get?”

“A nagging fucking wife who does jack shit all day and complains about being tired! I work for us, so you can stay home and live out your little housewife fantasies!”

Your jaw drops and you suck in a sharp breath. You can’t even form words, nearly laughing at the audacity and ridiculousness of what he’s saying. “Oh my god,” you can only scoff, shaking your head and leaning back in your chair. You smile and roll your eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.” He stands, leaning on the table and trying to make himself bigger than he is. It only paints him in a more pathetic light. 

You cut him off before he can say anything else, scooping up your plate and storming into the kitchen. “You’re the one who insisted I quit my job. You,” you turn and gesture towards him, a disgusted sneer on your face, “wanted a fucking housewife. I was just the dumbass that listened to you. You have no right to throw that in my face. You wanted this, James!”

“Yeah, well,” for a moment you think he’s speechless. His jaw opens and closes, nothing but air leaving his parted lips. You should know better by now, he’s always got some bullshit to spew. “I didn’t think you’d be so incompetent at this.”

You drop the plate in the sink, leaning on it for support and closing your eyes. You take in deep breaths, trying to cool down the heat racing under your skin. Your blood’s pumping so hard you’re surprised a vein hasn’t burst yet. 

“Fuck this,” you push off the sink, shoving past him and moving towards the front door. 

“What are you doing?” He demands, watching as you grab your coat and your keys. 

“Going for a walk,” you tell him shortly, slamming the door behind you. You just need some time away from him, away from the suffocating shadow that seems to linger behind him all the time now. 

You pull the business card Elizabeth had given you and dial the number. You don’t know if this anger is coming from whatever the hell lives in that house or if this was always coming. But you’re not going to just roll over and let this thing ruin your marriage. 

7 PM

You’re out for an hour. He’s upset the entire time. He wants to drive James’ head into the corner of the counter over and over again until there’s nothing left but unidentifiable mush. It’s the same fight he used to have. It always started over something so stupid, he could never say anything right. 

No matter how many times he thought he finally figured Bette out. Every time he thought he had avoided some trigger for her, a new one formed. It didn’t matter how perfect of a husband he was, he would never be enough because he wasn't him. He wasn’t Steve, the man who could do no wrong in her eyes. 

He stands in the corner and watches as James paces for a while before he finally leaves, taking his keys and his phone. He takes the car and leaves you stranded here at the house. 

He knows that James could fix the car sitting idle in the garage. He could fix the car. It’s just another way of keeping you under control. James gets to decide when and where you get to go out, you don’t get a say. 

You seem relieved, though, when you come back and see James gone. You’re happier without your husband, it’s both good and bad. He needs you to resent James, needs you to hate him. But that could prove tricky for him in the future. 

“Thank you so much,” you’re on the phone, you’ve got something lumpy in your jacket. One hand lays under the buttons of your coat, stroking idly. “Yeah, Thursday sounds great. Thank you, again, for coming on such late notice.”

You hang up, placing your keys and phone in the bowl by the door. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up.” You open your jacket, revealing a bundle of matted, dirty fur underneath. Somewhere in all that mess is the scrunched face of a pissed-off cat. 

You coo to it, stroking its head and ignoring the fact it looks like it wants to rip your hand off. You bring it to the kitchen sink and he watches as you take the next few hours to wash its wounds and properly groom it. 

He never cared much for cats, or any animals, really. He never had the time or the energy to try and take care of something other than Bette. She was practically a full-time job to cater to. But he enjoys how peaceful you look being able to take care of the cat. He enjoys how much sympathy you display, even as the little bastard rips and tears at your pretty skin. 

He looms over your shoulder, stroking his phantom fingers over the cat's wet fur. It’s enough to scare it into submission. Its claws release your skin and it shrinks back into your hold. He grins, backing away and leaving you to it. 

You frown down at the cat, murmuring soothing words to it as you look around the kitchen. Sometimes he thinks you see him, thinks you can truly see through all the walls and witness what’s left of the man he was. He knows it's foolish, a ridiculous hope. 

You’ll never be able to see him. Even if you could, you would only think of him as a tormentor. He was a blight on your home and marriage, why would you ever care about him?

3 AM

You feel eyes on you. Not the unfamiliar eyes you’ve been feeling, you know these. Intimately. You stir from your light sleep, squinting through the dark. Minimal light comes in through the blinds, but it's just enough for you to see the figure standing beside you. 

You gasp, flinching away from James. He just stands over you, glaring down at where you slept. Eyes devoid of anything. “James?” You whisper. Alpine, the cat you snagged from a neighbor’s dumpster, leaps off the bed. 

She hisses at James, skirting around him and running out of the room. Your brows furrow in confusion. You look back to James, muttering his name again. He gasps like he was dragged out of a coma. 

He stumbles on his feet, tripping over them and nearly nosediving into the bed. You instinctively steady him, guiding him onto the bed beside you. “What are you doing?” You hiss at him, holding his face in your hands and looking him over for any explanation of what was just happening. 

You’ve never even heard him talk in his sleep. Let alone, sleep with his eyes wide open and staring at you. It was beyond disturbing. There’s something unfamiliar in his eyes, they’re soft as he looks at you. Soft in a way they haven’t been for a long time. 

His hand comes up to cup yours, the other almost hesitantly running across your cheek. “James?” You ask again, caught off guard by the odd display of affection.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. You’re ninety percent sure you’re still dreaming, he’s never apologized first before. It’s always been you to broker the peace. You’ll sacrifice being right if it means he’ll stop giving you the cold shoulder, he’s never done the same. 

You try to ask him what he’s talking about, but he’s surging forward before you can speak. His lips are chapped, dryer than you’re used to. He doesn’t give you much time to process anything. His hands drift to your waist, dragging you into his lap as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. You’re taken aback by the taste of metal on his tongue. It’s coppery and bitter, not at all like the mint toothpaste you both use. 

He’s not kissing you like you’re used to. He’s not trying to devour you or suffocate you by shoving his tongue as far as it goes down your throat. This is gentle, sweet. It feels like you’re being savored, not claimed. You don’t mind it, in fact, it would be nice if you weren’t so disturbed. 

He’s not acting like himself, he barely looks like he should, and he tastes wrong. This isn’t your husband kissing you. You want to pull away, you try to. But his fingers are digging into your waist and your lips are firmly locked. You can feel the chill of his hands through your pajamas. They’re like icicles, you’re sure there’s going to be a mark from them in the morning. 

“James,” you manage to mutter, pulling away from him just enough to catch your breath. “What’s,” you trail off, tongue growing too heavy to speak. Your words slur together, become one nonsensical jumble stuck in your throat. 

He shakes his head, biting his lip and slowly lowering you back onto the bed. “I’m sorry. I thought this would work.” You narrow your eyes, you have barely enough energy to shake your head in confusion. Your lips part to ask another question. He leans down, pressing one last gentle kiss to you before your eyes roll back and you’re asleep again. 

“I told you I have it handled,” James practically pouts as he sits in your armchair. You used to use it to crochet, it’s got the best view of the backyard and you like to watch the bunnies that live under the porch. But more and more, he stays there. Every second he’s home, he seems to live in that chair. 

Bette had given it to you with the house. You hadn’t really thought anything of it, but with how he’s been acting lately, you can’t help but wonder if its’ connected to whatever secrets live in these walls. Most people would be haunted and their husbands would get worse, you seem to be experiencing the opposite. 

He’s kinder, he’s bringing you flowers and cooking you breakfast. You’re woken up with praise and gentle kisses. Then he’s back to normal by lunchtime. He’s miserable at dinner, only to wake you up in the middle of the night with saccharine apologies. You’re so sick and tired of living in this whirlwind of love and misery. You just want some goddamn answers. 

You need to know the truth of what’s happening to you. Is this just how James is? Is this the house? Is there even anything wrong with the house?

You’re hoping the medium will be able to answer that for you today. Mystic Wanda, the name doesn’t give you much hope but Elizabeth told you she’s one of the best. 

Alpine runs against your legs and James glowers at her. “I told you I wanted her out of here.”

“Tough,” you respond bluntly, eyes trained on the front door. He’d thrown a hissy fit when he saw her the morning after your weird make-out session. You hadn’t bent, though, and you know he’s still upset you’re no longer blindly giving into his whims. 

The doorbell rings and you leap off the couch, rushing towards the door and throwing it open. Wanda’s eyes widen in amusement and she smiles at your eagerness. “Please, come in, and thank you again for coming on such short notice.”

You usher her inside, offering to take her jacket. She passes it to you, eyeing the interior of your home and giving you an appeasing smile. “Well, Elizabeth is a good friend of mine, she told me you were having an emergency and I wanted to help.”

James scoffs from the armchair and she glances over at him with a bemused look. You glare at him over her shoulder. “James, I presume?”

“Oh,” his eyes widen in faux amazement, “did you divine that?”

Her eyebrows raise and you know she’s unimpressed. “I could tell from the attitude. Your sister warned me you were a cynic.”

He mutters a bitter, “Whatever,” under his breath and goes back to ignoring her. 

“I’m sorry about him,” you take her by the elbow, guiding her into the kitchen and away from him. You peer over into the living room, ensuring he can’t hear you. Wanda waits expectantly for you to begin speaking. 

“He’s why I wanted you to come.” You tell her, fiddling idly with your wedding band. “He’s not himself lately.”

“More volatile?” She guesses and you shake your head, laughing bitterly to yourself.

“Less, actually. But he’s unpredictable. I never know when he’s going to be this sweet stranger or the miserable man I’ve grown used to.”

Her brows twitch and a confused smile graces her lips. “Most people aren’t upset when their husband gets better.”

“I know it’s odd,” you admit, sighing and looking down at the countertop. “But, I just need to know I’m not going crazy. I’ve been dragging this around everywhere,” you push your camera towards her. “Every time something happens, the feed cuts out. I’ve been dragged down my bed, harassed, made to think I’m losing my mind.”

You run a rough hand over your face, feeling the aches of this whole experience settle wearily along your bones. “I just need some clarity. That’s all.”

“Well,” she reaches for your hand, squeezing it in hers and giving you a comforting smile. “I can certainly help with that.”

Wanda sits in the armchair, having booted James out of it. He seems a little bit more cognizant as he sits beside you, a little more scared. You keep a wary eye on him while Wanda closes her eyes and “connects” with the house, as she put it. 

She breaks the silence abruptly and it makes you jump. “This chair came with the house?” You nod silently but you have a feeling she already knew the answer. She hums, running her hand along the arm of it. 

“It was his before it was stolen by the man he called friend. He lives in it, watches you from it.” You feel your heart racing, panic steadily rising within you. It’s like a physical caress, the fear trailing down your spine. “He wants something, too many things,” she sighs and shakes her head, frustration playing along her fine features. “It’s hard to discern the truth of it all.”

“But he’s real?” You cut in, imploring her to tell you what you’re desperate to hear.

She gives you a resigned smile, but there’s no happiness in it. “I’m afraid so.” She shouldn’t be so apologetic, this is all you wanted. To know you weren’t crazy, to have James hear it too. But when you look to him for some satisfactory celebration, his face is slack. 

“James?” 

Wanda leaps up from the chair, taking a step towards him. Your husband is gone, any sign of awareness or thought is completely gone. He looks devoid of life, like he’s been a living corpse for weeks. “James?” You call again, voice threatening to break. 

His jaw snaps shut and you jump back, rushing off the couch and stumbling towards Wanda. She grabs you, tugging you behind her, and takes in a deep inhale. “It’s him,” she whispers, eyes wide with fear. “I’ve never encountered one so strong before.”

You glance at her and then back at James. There’s fury playing on his features, and again, those eyes you don’t recognize yet somehow feel familiar. “I think you should leave,” he demands, his voice low. 

It isn’t the normal way he commands you. This is a threat, a complete assurance of power. James stands up in one fluid motion, stalking toward Wanda. She goes stiff before you and you worry she’s going to go slack the same way James did. 

“Now,” he tells her, eyebrows raised with impatience. 

“James, she can help,” you try. His head whips toward yours and you flinch away from the intense look he gives you. 

“We don’t need her help,” he whispers your name and it almost sounds like he’s pleading with you. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, you glance between Wanda and James, unsure which to follow. 

Wanda shakes her head as you take a step back from her. James’ shoulders slump with relief. “Don’t do this,” Wanda warns. “I won’t be able to come back here again. He’s growing stronger, you’ll be beyond anyone’s help soon-”

She's cut off as the light bulb above you explodes. You scream, moving instinctively towards your husband. His arms eagerly wrap around you, drawing you into his gentle hold. He runs a hand over your back and you almost miss the quiet apology he mutters into your hair. 

“Leave,” James doesn’t have to tell her again. She practically runs to the door, nearly forgetting her coat as she rushes out. You slump against him, somehow feeling defeated even after getting what you wanted. 

“Doll?” He peers down at you, pulling back slightly to get a better look. “Are you okay?”

You stare into eyes you know don’t belong to your husband and force yourself to nod. You let this stranger hold you close and ignore the sinking weight of guilt. He feels so much better than James ever did and you hate yourself for thinking that. 

Your husband is in there somewhere, being tormented by some malevolent spirit, and you’re letting him do what he wants to you. Playing house with him like everything’s normal. “Come on, let's go outside.”

You can’t do anything except listen to him. In the back of your mind, you think about how odd it is that he’s showing himself now. He usually waits until later in the day. 

How sick is it, you have a schedule for when your husband will be possessed?

He leads you to the back porch, to the rocking chairs that were there when you moved in. but he doesn’t let you sit in one. No, he guides you down onto his lap, keeping you close as you get yourself comfortable. 

James isn’t like this. He doesn’t let you love him like this. Your touch practically repulses him nowadays. But he can’t seem to get enough of you now. Holding onto you like he might not get to again. 

“Wanda said he was growing stronger,” you mutter absentmindly. He goes tense under you, but he doesn’t yell at you or get mad. He just squeezes your hand in his, idly tracing shapes over your palm. 

“I was thinking of planting some rosebushes,” he tells you, completely brushing over what you said. 

“I thought you wanted to rip the garden out and build a pool,” you tell him bitterly. The neighborhood has its own pool. You’ve been begging James to keep the old lady’s flowers in the back but he won’t have it. 

Now, miraculously, he’s giving in to your whims. You don’t know if you should be happy or disgusted. You’re sitting on the lap of something that isn’t your husband anymore. You don’t feel like you can trust your mind anymore. You struggle to differentiate between your dreams and reality. 

He laughs a little, brushing some hair out of your face and smiling at you. It’s not the smile you fell in love with, or the eyes you fell in love with, but you can feel yourself falling. Or, maybe, you’re just desperate for someone to be kind to you. For someone to love you the way a husband should love his wife. 

“I want you to be happy, Doll.” James doesn’t call you Doll.

“Maybe some gardenias too,” you lean back into his chest, letting yourself get more comfortable. 

You feel his smile against your skin, he turns his nose to nuzzle against your cheek, planting a kiss there. “I’ll buy the seeds tomorrow.” You nod absentmindedly, trying to settle the way your stomach flips. 

3 AM

“James!” You scream his name, leaping onto his side of the bed and holding onto him as tight as you can. He shoots up, grabbing you and turning you to face him. 

“What?” He demands, face pale with worry. 

You frown, glaring at him, “You didn’t hear that?” The bedroom door slams closed and you scream again, curling into his hold. 

“Holy shit!” He shouts, he tries to hold onto you but something grabs his leg. The same way you’d been dragged the first night, he’s pulled out of bed. You scream his name, the bedroom door flies open, and watch as he’s dragged into the hall. 

You leap over the bed, feet tangled in the sheets as you lunge towards the door. He’s screaming, primal sounds of nothing but pure terror ripping through the house. You pound on the locked door, tearing at the knob until you think you might rip it off. 

“James! Please!” You sob against the wood, slamming your shoulder into it until it cracks. Pain shoots down to your elbow and you flinch back, “Fuck,” the screams go quiet on the other side of the door and your eyes widen. 

“James!” You screech, your fists pound against the door until you feel the skin crack and blood dribble down your arms. Something cool brushes against your neck, like a breath. “Stop,” you plead, “stop it, give him back.”

The door swings outward, the wrong way, and you wonder how the hinges don’t break. The only light on is the linen closet. The same closest that you know has a scuttlehole. You don’t think, just run towards it. Your bare feet pound against the hardwood, shaking the whole house in your race for the door. 

You burst through, nearly stumbling facefirst into the ladder. You clench your eyes shut, nails digging into your palms as you look up to see the scuttle hole already open and beckoning you forward. 

Blood trails up the ladder and you could almost cry seeing it. You can’t waste time, can’t dawdle. You don’t know what happened to James but you know it’s not good that he’s quiet. You force yourself up the rickety ladder, pulling yourself into the attic and looking around for any signs of life. 

You didn’t realize how much junk the old lady had left behind in the house. But the attic is chock full of her past. Dusty and browned filing boxes litter old antique tables. Wardrobes, trunks of clothes from the fifties. A mannequin with an unfinished dress. There’s an entire life up here, one she seemed to have just willingly left behind. 

You frown down at something that really draws your eye, a box with a scrawled B.B. on the side. The light’s on, but it's dim and only illuminates the box. Still, you try and squint through the dark to find James. There’s no sign of him anywhere, you can’t help but wonder what the trail of blood on the ladder was. 

You lean down and pick up the box. “What’re you doing?”

You scream, your throat going sore from how much you seem to be doing that tonight. James is on the ladder behind you, a dazed look on his face as he waits for your answer. You tilt your head in confusion, trying to calm your heart from the adrenaline rush that was ten minutes earlier. 

These are different eyes. This isn’t him. Your gaze darts back to the box and you pass it to him. “Take that,” you demand. He doesn’t question you, if anything it seems to make him happy. He drops it down the ladder and holds his hand out to help you down. 

You take it, hissing at how cold his hands are. He only gives you another eerie smirk. Once you’re steady and on the ground, you back slowly out into the hallway. “What happened earlier?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. I must have been sleepwalking.”

Your face drops and you scoff, “You were fucking dragged down the hall and I got locked in the bedroom. You weren’t sleepwaking, James.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder and flips the lights off. You’re plunged into darkness, a slight whimper ripping its way out of your throat. You’re forced to rely on his guidance as he leads you down the hall. “You’re tired, Doll, we should just go to bed.”

You think back to the box, waiting for you in the closet. There’s no arguing with him, though. You’ll have to deal with it tomorrow morning. You can only pray that you’re not awoken so violently again. 

“Sweetheart,” you mumble tiredly, swatting blindly at the voice. There’s a low chuckle, and then the familiar press of lips against your forehead. “Wake up, I’ve gotta go soon.”

You’re slow to open your eyes, just barely making out James’ blurry shape. “James,” you mutter, narrowing your eyes to try and force them to focus on his form. “What’re you doing?” You asked, words slurring together. 

He places a tray down on the nightstand and the smells of coffee and pancakes break your dazed trance. You sit up straighter in bed, giving him a confused look. Two years of dating, and a few months of marriage, not once has he greeted you with breakfast in bed. 

“James?” you question, he only shakes his head, darting forward to kiss you. Your eyes flutter shut and you find yourself leaning into the touch. It doesn’t take long for it to grow heated, his chilled hands drifting under your shirt and tugging you towards him. 

You’re finding it easier and easier to simply give in to his whims. Your legs spread over his and you melt into his hold like you were made to fit against him. “Shit, Doll,” he huffs against your parted lips, pupils blown wide as he stares up at you. His lips are a pretty pink, swollen, and glistening from your kisses. You almost want to bite them. 

You hold back the urge, leaning back and giving him a small smile. It’s enough to make his whole face light up. “You know how badly I want to stay in bed with you today?” You almost invite him to, but the foggy cloud of an abrupt wake-up finally parts. 

You remember the box from last night, what you need to do today. So, you pull back from him, his arms releasing you reluctantly. It’s so peculiar, how his metal hand is warmer than the flesh one. “Going to work?”

He hums, eyes narrowing in on you suspiciously. You reach for the coffee and take a sip, exactly how you like it. It’s pathetic that your suspicion grows because you know your husband doesn’t know how you take your coffee. 

“I’ll miss you,” you tell him, and it’s the first time you haven’t had to force the words out to appease him. It almost feels genuine this time. He gives you a resigned smile, kissing your cheek and leaning back. 

He pets Alpine, stroking down her smooth white fur and smiling at her too. “I’ll see you both later,” he tells you, a promise. You bite your lip and nod. His footsteps echo down the stairs and you leap off the bed, the abrupt move scaring the life out of Alpine. She growls in discontent and stalks off. The door closes and you run to the window, watching the driveway to make sure he’s gone for sure. 

You race into the hall, throwing the closet door open and dragging the dusty box out. Mildew and mold cling to it, but you don’t have time to be concerned with germs. You need answers. You take it downstairs, toss it on the kitchen table, and forget all about your breakfast upstairs. 

It’s odd, how much cozier the house has become. Sunlight streams through the windows and warms your seats and couches. You no longer feel eyes in the shadows. A creak is just a creak. It’s like your fear has just been snatched from you. 

The thought is enough to unsettle you, but you ignore it for now. You’ll worry about that another day. You toss the lid of the file box inside and what greets you only further irritates you. Piles of unorganized papers and pictures, each of the more faded by time than the other. 

You pluck out the first one you see and nearly gasp. It’s James, but not James. A picture of a WWII soldier, in his uniform and posing in front of an army vehicle. He looks just like your husband, but his eyes crinkle a little more when he smiles, his happiness palpable through the picture. He’s even got a prosthetic arm. 

You flip the picture over, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, is written out in pretty cursive. Directly under it is 1942. You drop the picture, taking a few steps back and shaking your head. “No, no, nope,” you shake your head, simply ignoring the truth that lay in front of you. 

Somewhere out there, there’s an alternative version of your husband who was a WWII veteran and apparently lived in this house. Same fucking name and everything. “Oh, fuck me, this is insane.” You glare at the box, not wanting to believe anything you’re seeing. 

How could your life have devolved into this shitfest, just because you moved into one fucking house? How could one crappy ad in the newspaper have completely turned your life upside down and thrown you into the twilight zone?

You throw yourself into a chair, slumping over the wooden table and taking in grounding breaths. You wanted the truth, you’re going to get it. Even if none of it makes any sense. The next few pictures you grab are all in the same sepia tint. One of him standing in front of the garden, another before a truck, even one in the goddamn armchair currently sitting in your living room. And in each one, he looks as happy as can be. But there’s something nearly artificial in his smile. 

You look at the pictures on your mantle and frown. You can’t exactly judge him. You’ve got the same smile in all your pictures too. Just slightly off, something about it slightly forced for the sake of the person beside you.

You find one of him with a very unhappy-looking woman. She’s pretty, even if she does look a little wicked, and she also looks remarkably like you. What bizzaro world is this? She’s nearly identical to you, but she looks goddamn miserable. A hulking blond man has his arm slung around Bucky, fingers just barely grazing the woman’s shoulder. 

You flip it over and find, Bette, Bucky & Steve at the new house, 1950. Bette, the woman who sold you the house. Who told you what nursing home her kids were sticking her in. You leap up from the table, running to grab your coat and racing out of the house. 

Bucky glances down at James' phone and grins. He pulls the car into the apartment complex and picks up the call, “Hello?”

“Where are you?” The woman on the other end demands sharply. 

Bucky sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and fighting back the spirit surging within him. His left hand twitches without his permission and his eyes narrow in frustration. James was easy enough to subdue last night. He was caught off guard, terrified. 

Now, he’s pissed off and fighting. Bucky doesn’t appreciate the efforts to take control. “I just pulled in. I’ll be up in a minute.” He shuts the phone off and jerks the rearview mirror to face him. The eyes that stare back at him are not his own. 

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” James demands, spitting the words out like he has any sort of power over Bucky. 

Bucky grins, “Wasn’t planning on it.”

James’ face falls and his eyes widen with worry. “What does that mean?” Bucky flips the mirror back in place, glancing up to the third-story apartment where Martha waits for him. He turns the engine off, slowly exits the car, and makes his way up the stairs. 

He’s sure to take his time, enjoying how James grows more and more terrified. It only feeds him, makes him stronger, and grants him more control over him. He’s getting better at controlling him, finally had enough strength to fully take over last night. 

Before, he only had the energy to take over the body for a few hours, at most. But the longer he held influence over James, the further his influence spread. Soon, he could leave the house, without having to use James’ body as an anchor. He’s evolved past anchors and the brick walls that once contained him. He only had one last loose end before he could be with you fully. 

He knocked on the red door, waiting for Martha to answer. It didn’t take long. She threw the door open, face screwed up with rage. “Look who came back. I told you that little bitch of yours wouldn’t be good enough for you.”

Bucky kept the look on his face serene. He tried not to show the rage that raced through him at her grating tone. He wanted to rip her tongue out and choke her with it. He wished he could pluck out her eyeballs and serve them to her on a silver platter. A million different ways came to him as he stepped into her apartment. 

“Hello, Martha.”

“Thanks for seeing me, Bette.”

Bette kept her hands in her lap, picking at the wrinkles of her skin. “It’s grown so thin,” she looked at you, seeing straight through you. “I used to be like you, so pretty, so young.”

Your face screws up in discomfort and you nod dismissively. “You know why I want to talk.”

Bette sighs and clicks her tongue. “Oh, Bucky,” she says his name forlornly, playing the perfect mourning lover. But you know better, she doesn’t mean a damn bit of her grief. 

“Drop it,” you snap, looking around to make sure no nurses are watching. The white sterile walls of the nursing home loom over you. Bette’s eyes snap towards you, the thin film of dementia disappears and she slumps into her chair. 

“Fine. Dammit, what the hell do you want? You already took my house.”

“Yeah, and your damn ghost. I want some fucking answers, Bette.”

She chuckles, the noise bitter and her expression cruel. “You know, you remind me a lot of Bucky. Got that same kicked puppy look to you that makes me want to smack you around.” Despite your best intentions of remaining passive, you feel your heart twinge in sympathy for Bucky. 

Bette’s got the same bitter look in her eye that James used to. You don’t see much of it anymore. Strange how much your life has changed in just over two weeks. “I thought he’d see you and finally move on. He’d finally get his damn revenge on me, I mean you look just like me.”

You can’t help but agree with her. You slip the picture out of your purse and put it on the table before you. “I saw,” you mutter, glancing down at the uncanny resemblance between you both. “I want to know what happened, Bette. I want to know why he’s stuck in my walls, why he’s stuck in my husband,” you add.

Her eyes widen and her jaw gapes. “He’s got your husband?” You nod and you’re caught off guard when she begins to cackle. “God, even dead he’s still the same pathetic, snivelling bastard he used to be.”

You can’t help but get angry, you almost want to defend him. Sure, he’s tormented you, but clearly, he had a reason to be bitter about having to look at your face all the damn time. You’d go crazy too if this was the bitch you were married to. 

“Bette,” you warn, voice low. 

She huffs and snatches the picture. “No harm in telling you, I suppose.” She gives you a wicked grin, “No one will believe you anyway.”

“I met Bucky when I was young, too young. We got married because he was getting shipped off to war. He wanted someone to write letters to, to come home to, and I figured he’d die before I ever saw him again. I could cash in on widow’s benefits. Then the son of a bitch had to go and get honorably discharged for getting his arm blown off.”

Your brows furrow in disgust. You’ve never seen such an evil old woman before. You pray you don’t turn into a wicked old hag like her when you get older. “Steve, his best friend, was discharged around the same time as him. Came to live with us for a while so he could get his life in order.”

Bette glares at you and tosses the picture back to you. You catch it before it slides off the table and she keeps going. “See, some women weren’t as loyal as I was. His lady moved on real fast, left him lonely and looking for a warm place to sleep at night. Bucky, well, he just wasn’t a man. He obeyed me like a little bitch and took every hit I gave him because he thought he deserved it. Steve never did that, always put me in my place. He was a man,” she hisses out the word and you have the sudden urge to slap her. 

“One thing led to another, we were in love and Bucky was in the way. We got rid of him, what else do you want me to say?”

You can’t even figure out where to begin. She’s fucking despicable. Not only did she not love him, he was utterly devoted to her and she fucked his best friend. Killed him to be with him. Despite this overload of information, only one question comes to you. 

“Where did you bury him?”

5 PM

You let out a loud grunt, sweat pouring down your back as you bring the sledgehammer into the brick wall. There’s a loud crack and you pause, taking a step back. A moment later a brick slips out of its place. It doesn’t take much longer for the others to follow. 

There’s a loud crash as it all comes tumbling down, decades of dust and debris float into the air. It drifts down your nose and creeps into your lungs. You drop the sledgehammer to the cement of the basement with a clatter. You kneel over, waving the dust away and trying to cough it out. 

Something rolls against the floor, something hollow that clatters against your shoe. You glance down, stunned into silence as a gaping skull stares back up at you. You stumble away from it, nearly kicking it back, and trip right into the warm chest of your husband. 

Bucky stares down at you, his face blank and devoid of anything you might be able to read. “You talked to Bette?”

You nod mutely, taking a step back from him. You wince as your heel comes down on something that cracks under your weight. You try to look down, to see what bone you’ve just broken, but he stops you. He grabs your chin, tilting your face towards him and forcing you to meet his eyes. “What are you going to do?” He demands, he tries to sound strong, but you can hear the fear that trembles under the cool tone. 

Rest In Peace

Husband, Brother, Friend

James Buchanan Barnes

“It’s a bit morbid isn’t it?” You peer up at him and shake your head. 

“No, he deserves a proper burial.” You place the flowers on top of the fresh grave and stand. You take a few steps back and Bucky pulls you into his chest. “You, I mean. I just feel like your memory deserves its rightful resting place.”

He lets out a heavy sigh and you squeeze his hand. “You think Steve’s in here somewhere?”

You scoff and feel yourself growing angry on his behalf. “He deserves to rot under a bridge somewhere, along with that bitch.”

Bucky laughs pulling back from you and giving you a wide smile. It’s genuine, the first genuine smile you’ve seen on his face in a long time. “Thank you,” he mutters. You shrug, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m your wife, I’m supposed to have your back.” You reach up, pushing a wave back behind his ear. He’s finally let his hair grow out again. He complains it gets in his eyes when he tries to garden, but you love how it looks on him so he keeps it. 

His face lights up, the same way it always does when you say you’re his wife. You interlace your fingers together, pulling him away from his grave and back towards the car. You’re supposed to meet Mrs. Barnes soon, you’re having Thanksgiving dinner at your house tomorrow so the whole family can finally see it. 

Since the discovery of Bucky’s bones and the literal skeleton in the house's closet, you’ve kept family members away from you both for a while. It was a long adjustment period, getting used to the truth and each other. Accepting the fact that James was gone for good wasn’t as hard a pill to swallow as it should have been.  

You have a theory that you both were meant to be with each other, either in the forties or today. Something got messed up in the universe’s timeline and instead, you got James and he got Bette. This paranormal experience must have just been fate’s way of cleaning up what it had ruined so horribly. 

You look up at Bucky, the way his eyes crinkle even when he’s not smiling, and feel something warm spreading through your chest. You don't mind the cold fingers and chilling touch at night when it’s him you’re sharing it with. 

You place the turkey down in front of Bucky and he sends you a blissful smile. You can’t help but lean over the back of his chair and plant a loud kiss on his cheek. Janey gags, tossing a roll at her older brother. “Quit it, would you, I’d like to have an appetite.”

You chuckle, taking your seat beside him. Bucky can’t help but want to cry. This is what he’s wanted for so long. His family back, the woman he loves to love him back. It’s what he begged for. The loss of it all had turned him into this bitter, malevolent spirit. 

As much as he’d like to say he regrets or feels guilt for what he did to Bette, Steve, Martha, and James, he can’t. He tormented Steve until he died of a terror-induced heart attack at fifty. He’d driven poor Bette into the nursing home where her children would let her rot for the rest of her miserable life. Martha won’t be heard from again. 

And James, poor James. He must have had the worst fate of them all. It’s been a while since he’s heard anything from James. He searches for him now, his tiny presence lingering somewhere in the back of his mind. 

Bucky takes your hand, looks at his sisters and mother, and smiles at them. He raises his glass for a toast, slapping at James until he’s forced out of his slumber. Look, he thinks, speaking of all he’s grateful for to you and the other women. They know, he feels James looking through his eyes. 

He sees the way his family smiles at Bucky, and how much happier they look with him. They know, he tells James, they know I’m not you. James pounds futilely against Bucky’s walls. He screams and sobs, begging for you to help him. 

They don’t want you, James. They know that the world is better without you. He lets James linger in his misery, he savors his despair, lets it energize him, and then tosses him back to the abyss. James goes quietly, he gave up fighting a while ago. 

It wouldn’t matter anyway. His brief period of rebellion has fed Bucky enough to keep him subdued for the rest of his life. You squeeze his hand, “I love you,” you whisper, passing him the sweet potatoes. 

He smiles back at you and repeats the same words he’s already said a hundred times to you. This is at it always should have been. Steve, Bette, and James were all stepping stones to get him to you. He wasn’t going to let you go now. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Marvel (Winter Soldier), but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Accidental Assault (Bucky x Reader) Fluff & Angst - Part 1

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

WARNINGS: Somewhat gratuitous violence towards the ex-bf. It's more explicit than overkill. Also a fair amount of cussing in the first half. Cheating.

Thinking it would be nice,

you returned home with Jerry's favourite coffee, a cheesecake, and some burritos. Nothing could have broken your spirit. Not only had Fury given you a raise, Clint and Laura were expecting! You'd be an aunt! You hadn't asked but if Tony was going to be an uncle, you would damn well get to be an aunt.

"Jay? Babe, I have burritos!"

Silence greeted you. Frowning, you hummed curiously. He was supposed to be home, wasn't he? Crap. You checked your watch as you slid the goods onto the coffee table. No, no, you were right. Where was he?

"Babe?" You called again, walking towards the room. Maybe he was in the shower.

Pushing the bedroom door open, giggling greeted your ears.

"Ba.."

Entwined on the bed like some Peruvian romance painting was Jerry and a blonde woman you'd never seen before.

What?

You couldn't move. You were frozen. This can't be right. 'Am I in the right apartment?' You thought, taking a step back. Same dresser, same bed, same gaudy lamp you bought for a buck fifty.

"Shit!" Jerry hissed, struggling to get out from the twisted heap of your lovely egyptian cotton sheets. They were your favourite. And now they're tangled in between this woman's legs.

She was beautiful, really. Long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a beauty mole just below her lips. Jerry looked good. All hot and bothered. And look, he's even still hard. Wait, he's saying something.

What's your name again?

"-Y/N, seriously, come on. Hello??"

You stared at him. Jerry. Right. Your bed.

"Babe, this is totally worse than it looks. Uh, Jasm-"

Snapping, you tensed up like a rabid dog and found your arm slowly moving towards his perfect face. Jerry.

Jerry's head snapped back violently with a spray of blood erupting from his nose. Jasmawhatever shrieked, trying to get out from your sheets, and started spiting slurs at you.

"You slut, what the fuck?!" She screamed as she managed to clamber out of the bed and stumble towards you. Idly you noticed she had almost ridiculously large breasts. Huh.

Struggling on the floor, Jerry gasped and hissed in pain, clutching his prett- ugly ass face as he stood up.

"Y/N, fuck, what the hell is WRONG WITH YOU?" he spluttered. Blood dripped from between his fingers and spilled down his chest. In the back of your mind part of you laughed as some of it landed on the tip of his dick.

"What's wrong with me?" You questioned, puzzled. Is there something wrong with me..

And then everything became clear again. Jerry, the son-of-a-bitch was cheating on you. In your apartment. In your bed. ON YOUR NICE SHEETS.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?" you screamed, voice cracking. Reering back to balance on the balls of your feet, you almost laughed. It came out manic and hysterical.

"HELLO, MOTHERFUCKER!" you screamed again, this time purposefully and deliberately arching your arm back to suckerpunch him. Natasha had shown you the best way to lay out an enemy, and now, as far as you are concerned, Jerry is the fucking enemy.

Your fist cracked against his head again, loud enough that even you winced, and he crumpled to the floor with a pitiful yelp. Behind him the blonde woman cried out and rushed to catch him, missing. She crouched naked, fussing over him for a moment before she looked up at you, clearly deliberating over fight or flight.

Numbly, yet bitter and vaguely enraged, you stared at her blankly.

"Come on, come on," she hurridly whispered to him, trying to pull him up. They struggled, with Jerry moaning into his hand, and 'Jasma' weakly trying to lift him. They managed to stand, and then hurried to the door, fleeing from the room. You stayed, staring at the droplets of blood on the floor.

There was a crash from the living room and you supposed Jerry had just fallen onto your glass coffee table, breaking it. Another prized possession destroyed by Jerry.

"Oh, and uh, what's ya name again?" The woman yelled sarcastically, "Oh yeah, (incorrect name) we'll see you in court, you homewrecking bitch!"

Then the front door slammed.

Homewrecking. How funny..

--

The next thing you see is a short, squat man tapping the bars before you impatiently.

"Finally," he muttered to himself, "Hurry up, kid. Your bail posted."

Bail? Wait, WHAT?

"B-bail..? What?" You spluttered, rocking to your feet unsteady and dazed. "Are these bars?!?"

"Jesus chriist," the man sighed, rolling his eyes before he reached out and yanked you from the cell you were apparently confined in. Stumbling into his chest before you lurched away, you ended up crashing back into the bars with a wince.

"Your bail posted," the man said slowly. You notice he's wearing a blue uniform and has a badge on his laple. Fuck. Jerry. That's right.

You nodded numbly.

"Your ride is here. I'm going to take you to the front desk, and then uncuff you. You will then be free to leave. Understand?"

Fucking Jerry that bastard. He'll see you in court? Fine, you'll mail him exorbitant bills for all your hard earned housewares he'd broken while frolicking with goldilocks. You could probably smash a few things up and add it to the bill. You didn't want to keep anything he'd ever touched anyway.

"Right, okay." You croaked, throat parched.

He pursed his lips before leading the way to a small office area, where he uncuffed you and told you to sign some papers. You should probably read them but you just wanted to leave at this point.

"This way," the man sighed again, unlocking a heavy steel door. He must really hate his job..

Stepping out into the station foyer, you stood unsure what to do.

"Have a nice day, ma'am," he said dryly before he slammed the door behind you.

Great. You don't know where you are, you probably look like a lunatic, and your feet are cold. Where are your shoes??

A low whistle caught your attention. Great, now some jackas-

Bucky Barnes stood leaning against a wall, staring at you bemused.

Even worse.

"You are not a sight for sore eyes," he remarked, taking in your appearance. There was a tinted window next to him but you feared seeing your reflection so stayed away.

"Fuck you, Barnes," you spat.

His face twitched, and you couldn't tell if it was amusement or anger. Sighing, your head dropped in shame.

"I'm sorry, sorry.."

Barnes pushed off to the wall and walked to you until he was so close you could see his boots. You refused to look up.

"What was that?" He asked innocently.

Groaning, wishing your hair wasn't knotted up into a painful bun and instead could hide your enflamed face,

"I'm sorry," you croaked pitifully.

He half huffed, half chuckled before shaking his head.

"Aight, doll, come on," he said, gently grasping your shoulder and steering you towards the station doors. Stepping out, you breathed in the city fumes greedily.

"To your apartment, or..?" Bucky trailed off, eyeing you carefully. You still refused to look at him, obviously ashamed. He didn't know what to do. All Stark had said was that you were at the station and he had to pay off the officers not to charge you with assault. When Bucky tried to pry for more information Stark had just shaken his head and said to ask you himself. He planned to but now didn't seem like the best time.

When you had stepped out from the booking bay, he had been shocked. Normally your hair is perfectly groomed, never a hair out of place, and yet right now it was in a messy bun and curling around your face. You looked gaunt and pale, clearly upset, and a small splattering of blood could be found on your white blouse. And to top it off, you had no shoes.

Bucky had figured something bad must have happened. Considering your lab tech status and general passive if not sweet nature, anything violent was more than out of sorts. So surely, whoever you had supposedly assaulted deserved it right? His stomach twisted painfully at the thought that you may have been in danger. He was dying to know but it would have to wait.

Unfortunately, Bucky had walked the two blocks from the tower.

"I'll call a cab," he eventually said when he recieved no response. That snapped you out of it.

You shook your head, "No, no. It's only like, two blocks or something to the tower. I'll be fine."

He nodded uncertainly, wishing you meet his eyes. "Not your apartment then?"

"Nope," you replied, popping the 'p'.

Silence reigned as the two of you walked, Bucky carefully shadowing your every step and examining the footpath for anything sharp or dangerous. Once you arrived and ascended in the elevator, it became awkward.

"Stark has free rooms ready," Bucky grumbled, staring at your reflection in the shining elevator walls.

His eyes burned into you like an itch, making you want to cry and scream and tell him just how much of an ass Jerry is. But he wouldn't care. You barely knew each other despite seeing him most days. You'd even designed the upgrades for arm, but somewhat socially nervous, had insisted Cho be the one to fit them.

"Okay..um," you cleared your throat, finally looking at him in aprehension, "Is there.. ah, I dunno, somewhere I can go for a bit where I won't be bothered.. I know at least Cho will come and pester me, and I just.." You sighed through your nose, wanting nothing more than a warm blanket and a bottle of wine.

Bucky's lips twisted as he thought about it, while you silently urged him to think of somewhere, anywhere, away from prying eyes. The residents of the tower, Avengers or genius scientists alike, may mean well but right now you just couldn't do it.

"Well.."

"Please," you begged, hating the desperation in your voice.

"Only," he began, head cocking to the side. It seemed playful, but why? "If you tell me why you were arrested."

Which is exactly what you didn't want to do. The one thing you absolutely didn't want to do. And yet you absolutely wanted to be alone and calm. Weighing the options in your head, you considered Barnes, unintentionally scrutinising him,

He's not really the conversational type, doesn't gossip, definitely has his own demons and likes privacy. He had picked you up, too.. oh god, he didn't pay your bail, did he? Oh please no. Stark, Cho, fucking Peter, anyone but a guy you'd spoken all of ten words to prior to today.

Slumping, you agreed.

Pleased, he smiled at you. "Follow me."

--

Now seated in his apartment with a warm afghan around your shoulders, you stared at him. He stared back. You drained your glass of water, wondering who would crack first.

A minute passed and you had to accept it was you.

"Alright, what do you want to know..?"

He smiled at you. It was relaxing. You tried to smile back but you were sure you looked more frightening than friendly.

He leaned back, sinking into the couch, and for the first time you could really see him. Despite your interactions in the lab, which really constituted "Morning." and "Here you go, Mr Barnes." you had never really taken him in. If you thought of him, it was more of a shadow. Tall, menacing- although you'd never really been intimidated- and with his ridiculously broad shoulders and bulging muscles, very attractive. But it was his wolfish eyes, slight aftershadow, and shoulder length hair that you'd never quite seen before. Each time his file (the watered down, medical version) passed your desk, you'd only ever had the technicians focus on the man.

"I wish you'd been the one to smack him," you blurted. Your eyes went wide before you slapped your hands across your mouth. Crap.

His eye brows shot up. "So you did assault someone?" He asked incredulously.

"Uh."

He started laughing. "Seriously? Aight, start from the beginning."

You sighed once again.

After you were done, Bucky stared at you open mouthed. He was completely shocked. Not only was that just plain wrong, but he would have never done such a thing when he was a civilian. Heck, he wouldn't do that now. Being a ladies man was one thing but a relationship, especially an eight year one, was not something he could imagine using as some coy joke.

It hurt him, too. It hurt him to see you so upset, and it hurt him because.. because not only did you not deserve that, but he would never do that. Bucky would never do that to you. Never.

"You're fucking joking," he finally said.

You pursed your lips. "No, Mr Barnes, I am not fucking joking. And now I'm going to be charged with at least a misdemeanor, if not aggrivated assault." Moaning to yourself, you flopped backwards, eyeing the empty glass. What you'd do for a little wine.

@38leticia @purplekitten30 here you guys go! Part 2 up later.

Bucky Barnes/James Barnes/The Winter Soldier imagines

Hi all! This is a pretty long list of possible situations for you and our darlin' Plum. Feel free to use them however, and if possible, tag me! I love reading Bucky x Reader (or Bucky x Tony, ikik..) and there's just never enough of it around.

I'm thinking about doing some of these so let me know if you're interested in reading one!

You are a consultant on cultural behavior, which means you detail the best appearance, attitude, and quirks for an undercover agent to have. Given your indepth knowledge, Fury assigns you the arduous task of bringing Steve Rogers and James Barnes up to speed on history post-1949.

You have known Tony for 15 years. You were born on August 1st, 1980, and attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After the war, you found yourself numb and detached from life, with your only surviving close friends and family being Harry James Potter and Ron Weasley. After suffering through apathy and depression for five years, at the age of 23, you throw yourself through the Veil. Unsure if you will encounter a blissful void, screeching hellfire and your righteous maker, or some other world, you put all your belongings in an extended bag and welcome the final step. Funnily enough, you fell face-forward into a gutter. 15 years later, Tony calls on you to consult on the portals opening at random. Unsure what to expect, seeing as you are the last magical being on this earthly realm, you agree. What you find brings back memories of parseltongue, bloodquils, and man with 7 lives. Bucky x Reader.

Born into an impoverished family, Y/N Y/L/N is the last in a long line of witch-hunters. Your father was already well into his 60s when you were born, so when he passed, it was just your mother left to instill the family doctrine in you. Despite this all, you eventually turn to a life of normalcy, and become a historian specializing in occult artifacts (that's normal, right?). Stephen Strange is a close friend, and eventually asks you to help him in his research kickstarted by Jane Foster. You come into contact with all of the Avengers although you've barely held a conversation past "Hi, how ya doin'?". With Darcy as your new best friend, and her ridiculous affair with the God of Lies, you find yourself reciting the words your father had carved into his flesh. "For our King, our God, and the Righteousness of Divinity, may God have Mercy upon your Filthy Soul." Would be very interesting with a fictional twist on a religion or faith of your choosing. Bucky x Reader where eventually Reader is the only person in the tower/compound who can successfully defend herself against attacks by the supernatural without heavy firepower- Bucky being the exception of course. Horror!theme?

It had been a nice sunny day in Manhattan. You thought to yourself, "You know what, this is gelato weather. I deserve gelato." And instead you get shot by some asshole with a red star on his shirt, kidnapped by a blonde man with a shield, and then told it was your fault for telling the red star asshole to leave your landlord alone.

Peter thinks he's sly- that you don't know about his spandex-wearing cobwebby bullshit. Ha! You'd lived next door all your life. Your WINDOW faces his. Who does he think he's fooling? Doesn't matter, he got you into a Stark Expo VIP tour. But hey, that tall brooding dude looks like he needs a laugh. Wait, what do you mean you can't say "Who pissed in your cornflakes?" to the Winter Soldier? He's not the Winter Soldier, he- oh. Shit. Haaa..haha.. "PETER!!"

As Tony Stark's assistant, you've seen a lot of stuff. You've seen him butt naked, you've seen him so drunk he thought you were Rhodey (somehow), and you've even had your heart in his chest. You and he trust each other completely. One day, you get a call and it's a hospital in Y/Home/Town. They say your grandpa had a heart attack. And so you're on leave for 2 months making sure he's okay. Ol' Dirty Dugan doesn't go down easy. When you return, there is a strange split in the team. Tony spends even more time in his lab, he smells awful, and there's bags under his eyes. The team doesn't mention him and you notice they don't call him out for missions anymore. Wtf? After some digging you find out that Clint, Natasha, Steve, Sam, and Wanda are convinced Tony is a piece of shit. They think he's selfish, a coward, and a pervert, all because of misinformation and his public image. Hell fucking no. Thank god they thawed Barnes out, at least he isn't partaking in Bully-Tony-Tuesday. In fact.. he seems to be just as distant and despondent as Tony. You have a lot of work to do.

Bucky is your best friend. In the sense that, you don't have any real friends, and he doesn't let people close. But you bring him coffee, he shares his protein bars, and sometimes you two watch youtube together. Then one day an office clerk slaps your ass. What does Bucky do? He fractures the guys jaw.

"Happy Birthday to me. Happy birthday to me.. Happy Birthday, dear (Y/N), happy..birthday..to me.." Nobody remembered. Again. Your parents didn't call. Your sister didn't call. Your old friends didn't call. Nobody on the team said anything, but then again, they probably didn't know.. you are just a lab assistant anyway. Oh, well, Jarvis 2.0 did say Happy Birthday. That was nice. Bucky overheard Jarvis, though. So he goes out and buys some flowers, a bottle of sake, and a cheesecake. And then you cry and doesn't know why. Happy birthday to me. Oneshot. Fluffy angst.

They didn't know you were sick. None of them. You were conveniently out of town when the medical check ups took place, and never allowed the pain to show on your face. But one day at work you collapse, and they can't wake you up. Cho discovers you have kidney disease. You're dying and have been for a while. Tony pays top dollar for an immediate transplant, but it will still take a month or two. You used to have morning chats with Barnes after his run. You always were an early bird. But now he's on assignment somewhere secret, and you feel even more numb. Bucky couldn't handle the thought that you'd die (you won't but he doesn't know that), so he runs. He runs and immerses himself in a mission, believing you'd never feel the same way.

You came home and discovered your boyfriend of eight years in bed with a woman you'd never seen before. Turns out they'd been having a secret affair for nearly 5 years. You are arrested for punching him in the face- not that you remember, you blacked out in rage- and humourously enough, Barnes is the one who collects you from the station. It's okay, you hadn't been in love with Jerry for a long time, but it still hurt. So when you see Jerry with his 'side chick' three months later, you also discover Bucky had a sense of humour. Apparently you're now married to James Barnes, have been for a while, and are pregnant. Of course you're not but somehow Bucky knew just what to say and do to piss Jerry right off.

What Phone Sex Is Like With…

Bucky Barnes

———————————————————————————

Bucky had been away on a mission for a few weeks, and it took some adjusting for the both of you as it had been a long time since you two had been separated for even more than a few days.

It was lonely not having Bucky around the house, it was too quiet and too void of his comforting smell. You had gotten used to your sort of routine and you missed him dearly.

Somewhere thousands of miles away from his home, Bucky was thinking the exact same thing. He missed you, he missed waking up in the morning and getting to admire you for a little bit before you woke up and started your day. He even missed the cute little line of drool you would sometimes have on your face.

As Bucky thought about all the things he missed about you, he started to think about the way your skin felt on his, the way your hands felt roaming his body while your nails scratched down his back as he rutted against you.

Bucky readjusted himself in his bed as his pajama pants got increasingly tighter. He tried to ignore the feeling of the sudden arousal and will himself to go to sleep as there was a time difference and he didn’t want to disturb the deep sleep you were most likely in.

After about half an hour of tossing and turning Bucky sat up rubbing his face, while he was trying to sleep all the images his mind could conjure up were of you, writhing underneath him softly moaning his name as he touched you.

Which unfortunately for him, didn’t help at all.

The brunette threw the covers off of him, glancing at the clock as he made his way to the bathroom in the hotel he was staying at.

2:30 am. Goddamn it Barnes.

He splashed some cold water on his face trying to cool himself down and snap out of it, but he couldn’t help it. He missed his girl. Sighing after taking in his appearance in the mirror he turned the bathroom light off and returned to bed.

As he slid under the covers he thought about calling you, maybe hearing your voice would help him sleep, maybe not. But then again you were probably sleeping and he would feel terrible for interrupting that just because his dick was hard.

Deciding against it, Bucky slid his hands down into his boxers gently palming his erection. He could feel more blood rush into his cock so he rubbed harder, finally pushing his boxers down and letting his cock spring free. His right hand wrapped around his shaft and began to slowly move up and down not wanting to rush the feeling.

Bucky's lips parted slightly as he focused his mind on memories of you, he could still hear the way you begged him to let you cum as he edged you for the third time one night.

Remembering the sight of the tears of frustration in your eyes made Bucky let out a low groan. The more he thought about you, the faster he pumped until he just couldn’t take anymore, he had to hear your voice.

Bucky grabbed his phone off of the nightstand before finding your name in his contacts, pressing the call button he held the phone up to his ear, his hand still going as he listened to the ringing waiting for you to pick up.

After a few rings you finally answered “Bucky?” your sleep ridden voice came through the phone. “Hey sweetheart” Bucky grunted into the phone, the sound of your voice sending a shockwave through his body.

You could hear Bucky panting through the phone, still half asleep you thought something was wrong “Is everything okay? It’s like 3 in the morning, are you alright?” a soft gasp came through the phone “m’fine doll, I just, just need you so bad right now”

The sleep faded out of your system and was replaced by the tingling feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you finally heard the familiar rhythmic sounds in the background as Bucky moaned and gasped into the phone.

“Are you touching yourself Buck” You knew he was and it wasn’t even a question really, you just wanted to hear his whines as he said it. “Yes” His voice came out cracked “Yes fuck, I am. I couldn’t help it I’ve missed you so much y/n” he breathed. You let out a soft whimper at the way he said your name.

You laid back down in your shared bed, slipping a hand into your underwear as you listened to Bucky pleasure himself on the other end.

“What’s gotten you all worked up like this baby?” you moaned out. Bucky's hips bucked into his hand at the sounds of your moans “You did angel, couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you. Miss that wet little pussy begging for my cock”

Oh God how you loved it when Bucky talked dirty like this. Your hand started to spread the wetness that had pooled in your panties around your pussy just like Bucky's would do.

“Fuck Bucky” you groaned circling your clit with your wet fingers. As you started to pump your fingers inside of your pussy, Bucky could hear the squelching sounds and his mind conjured up a picture of what you had looked like in that moment.

A deep guttural groan came from the soldier and his hand came up to rub his thumb over the tip of his cock, spreading the precum over his shaft.

“Bet you look so fucking good right now doll, can just hear how wet that little cunt is for me. Tell me how wet it is baby” Bucky’s words went straight to your core and your back slightly arched off of your bed “So so wet Buck, need you so bad”

You managed to choke out through your gasps. “Fuck” He groaned “Love how needy and desperate you always sound, like a dirty little slut who’s just begging to be fucked”

Bucky chuckled at the way your breath hitched in your throat at the name he gave you “You like that don’t you, fucking whore” you could practically see the grin on his face as he exploited your desires. “Buck please I’m so close, I can’t-” your voice trailed off into a moan as the knot in your stomach tightened. “You wanna cum?” Bucky grunted out.

You could tell he was getting closer to his own orgasm by the way his voice was slightly strained. “Yes!” you blurted out “Yes please let me cum just-” you grunted, not really sure what you were saying but wanting Bucky to help you to sweet release.

Though you weren’t sure how it was possible, the skin on skin sounds of Bucky's hand on his cock got even faster and his groans turned into whimpers.

“Hang on just a little longer sweetheart. Wanna cum with you” You threw your head back in frustration “Almost there, be my good girl and keep rubbing that clit for me” You moved your fingers in tight circles over your slightly sensitive clit, juices coating your fingers.

By now you had put your phone on speaker, the sounds of Bucky’s and your frequent moans filled the room as you fought to keep yourself from succumbing to an orgasm.

“I can’t hold on any longer James,” you whimpered. Bucky let out a choked gasp “I’m gonna- shit” he breathed “Cum with me y/n” Bucky’s voice cracked as he moaned out your name, thick ropes of cum spilling over his hand and stomach. Listening to Bucky only made another wave of euphoria wash over you as you rode out your orgasm, back arching as your eyes squeezed shut.

As you came down from your high you could faintly hear Bucky praising you “Such a good girl for me sweetheart” and “Always do so well for me” reached your ears over now slight panting and you smiled. Even thousands of miles away and over the phone, Bucky was still providing the sweetest form of aftercare to you.

“Thank you doll” Bucky’s voice rang out. “I really needed that” You heard rustling as he cleaned himself and settled back into bed. As you did the same you asked “Stressed?” A quiet hum came through the phone that was now off speaker “Something like that”

You softly chuckled “Do you wanna talk about it now that you’ve destressed a little bit” Bucky let out his own laugh “Maybe later when I’m home doll”

You yawned tired from the late night activities “I’ll hold you to that” “Get some sleep y/n, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” You hummed in agreement, eyes starting to feel heavy. “I love you” Bucky's voice became deeper as sleep started creeping in “I love you too James”

Pressing the end call button and setting your phone on your nightstand to charge, you pulled your blankets over your shoulders as your eyes slid shut, ready to be another day closer to Bucky coming home.

HE NAKEYYY🤺

Spicy Brownies

18+ 

High Bucky x reader 

Remember Spicy Plants ? Here’s spicy brownies. Welcome to another crack fic. 

Imagine the first time Bucky tries edibles. He knew they would hit differently than smoking but he didn’t think much would happen so he had another. Then another. He was a super solider so he’d be fine. So he had one more. 

He was fine.

He was totally and completely fine. 

“Y/N!”

“Y/N Y/N Y/N!!”

“Oh my GOD!”

You and Steve sat in the living room, giving each other panicked looks hearing Bucky yelling from your shared bedroom. You both sprinted to the elevator and ran down the hall, bursting through the door, unsure of what was going on. 

“What is it Buck- oh my god” 

“What the hell…” Steve blinked, slowly backing away while you cocked your head to the side, observing a very naked Bucky looking at the mirror. 

“He nakeyyyy” Bucky whispered, staring at himself in the mirror wide eyed, cupping his own cheeks in utter shock. “Y/n, there’s a naked man in our room” 

Keep reading

Chocaholics Anonymous

For @buck-star 's Easter Challenge 🐣🐰

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Trope: Friends to lovers

Prompt: 🐰 Choclate (way toooooooooooo much)

Word count: ?

Tags/Warnings: None. Just really goofy fluff

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through AI. All of my work is 18+ so read at your own risk.

Summary: You notice that your chocolate stash is depleting rapidly and begin a note exchange with your chocolate thief.

Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

A/N: Also 350+ followers?? Hi you guys!! ☺️

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Navigation

Your chocolate stash was a chocoholic's dream. Hidden in the back of the dustiest, least used kitchen cupboard was a fake backing; with no pipes running through it to make sure no one accidentally stumbled upon your stash.

Steve and Thor were cretins when it came to chocolate and - probably due to their size and training regimens - could eat your stash in one sitting. However, you'd chewed them out so bad you thought they would burst into tears, and then promptly devised your super secret stash cupboard to ensure it never happened again.

Which was why you were surprised to find that, even though you'd definitely replaced your fake backing when you last used it, your stash had most definitely depleted.

You couldn't remember eating the bars that were missing. Even if you had somehow managed to sleep walk to your cupboard, the lack of evidence in wrappers and chocolate smears was concerning.

You didn't want to signal to the other avengers that you had a new secret stash, or that you knew one of them was a thief, so you opted to leave a note printed from the team's computer. With a team full of spies, geniuses and magic users, you didn't need the thief to know who you were from your handwriting.

Placing the note clearly upon the chocolate pile you re-fix the fake backing, the words slowly fading from view.

I know who you are. Count your days chocolate thief (<.<)

Bucky was surprised to find a note left on top of the supposedly abandoned chocolate stash he'd stumbled upon. He had - incorrectly - assumed that the chocolate stash had been long forgotten about and that the goldmine of sweet, cocoa-y goodness was his and his alone. Knowing that he was in fact a thief, made him feel only slightly guilty as he reached for another chocolate bar, deciding that he would leave a note of his own and replace what he'd taken.

Clearly, whoever had left the note and created this hidden stash wanted to remain anonymous. However, he wondered who on earth on the team it could be.

You read out the newest note aloud in the quiet of your room, trying to put together a mental list of suspects as you skim the words.

"Dear Chocolate Fairy," you begin, already frowning. "I'm sorry for eating your chocolate. Great. At least there's an apology."

You sigh. An apology meant it couldn't have been Tony; he'd never apologise for something like that. Maybe buy you stock in Cadbury but never apologise apologise.

"To make it up to you, I'll buy your favourite to replace what I stole. Just leave me a note of your chocolate of choice."

You nod approvingly but keep your frown as you type up your new note into a word document. Who on earth was your Anonymous Chocolate Thief?

A week later, you were no closer to finding the identity of your Chocolate Thief.

Steve and Clint were on a mission when the last note appeared, Thor was off world and when you'd subtly asked Bruce if he'd like any chocolate from the store he'd told you he preferred savoury snacks and asked if you'd pick up some Pringles instead.

On your weekly coffee meet with Natasha, you ask her about her chocolate preferences, only earning you a sigh.

"This again?" She tuts. "You're a chocaholic. Besides, with Steve and Thor gone you have nothing to worry about and you don't keep chocolate in the tower anymore. What's bothering you?"

You look sheepishly into your hot chocolate and try to come up with a good excuse.

"Nothing." You sip at your chocolate-y concoction. You couldn't tell Nat about your chocolate issue because she'd find out who it was immediately and truth be told you were enjoying your game of Whodunnit. "Anyways, tell me about that last mission you were on..."

"Man, this is too much chocolate. Even for you." Sam had rummaged through some of Bucky's grocery bags to find that at least two of them were filled with chocolate bars. "What are you gonna do with all this?"

Bucky eyes him suspiciously before snatching the bar he was holding out of his hand. "None of your business."

Sam throws up his hands in defeat before sneaking another bar into his pocket. "Do I need to let Steve know in case this is a... Thing?"

Bucky frowns over at Sam, picking up the grocery bags in his left hand. "A Thing?"

"Yeah. A Thing." Sam frowns back, folding his arms over his chest. "You're hoarding chocolate like it's gold so unless you're plotting something, I don't see how you're gonna eat that much."

Bucky purses his lips in consideration before sighing, realising Sam was correct and that he was acting stranger than usual. "I...you're gonna have to trust me Sam, this isn't for me."

"Right."

"I swear."

"Yeah." Sam shakes his head. "Whatever man, if you get stuck in a chocolate coma I'm not helping you out of it."

Bucky rolls his eyes and is about to pad off to his room to wait until everyone is asleep to access the secret stash but halts when Sam chirps behind him.

"You should ask Y/N if she wants any of your bars."

"What? Why?" Bucky turns back to Sam with a curious look.

"She's a chocaholic to the max." Sam chuckles and gives Bucky a knowing smirk. "Besides, it might gain you some points in her favour don't you think?"

Bucky spins around on his heel to try and hide the warmth gracing his cheeks but Sam had already spotted it and snorts, calling after him.

"And try smiling more!"

The following night, you almost burst into laughter when you open up the false backing. The stash is filled to the brim with your favourite chocolate that you feel sick just looking at it. Attached to the very top is a note that reads "Sorry :(".

A small twinge of guilt twists in your stomach and you feel a little disappointed that your Chocolate Thief is no more. You'll never know their identity - and you wonder if your mysterious Chocolate Thief will visit your dreams as a handsome man who looks suspiciously like one Bucky Barnes.

You sigh picking up a bar. There's so much chocolate stuffed inside it could take you a year to eat through it all. You startle when you hear the approach of footsteps, and begin hurriedly shoving chocolate bars back into the cupboard, smacking your head as you jump off the ground.

"Hi." You say, trying not to look too frazzled as Bucky appears.

"Hey." He says and for a moment you both stare at eachother in the dark of the kitchen.

"What are you doing up so late?" You stall, kicking a stray bar across the kitchen floor.

"Uh..." Bucky panics and then wiggles a piece of paper he's holding. "Report."

"Couldn't it wait till the morning?" You ask, starting to smile.

"Couldn't sleep." Bucky finishes lamely before smiling shyly. "You?"

"Same." You lie but if staying up meant eating chocolate and speaking with Bucky, you'd gladly pay the price of no sleep. "Want a cocoa?"

Bucky snorts. "Sam said you were a chocaholic."

You shrug trying to play it off but man, you really did have a reputation.

"I'm thinking of starting a club." You say playfully, heading to the cupboard for a mug. "Chocaholics Anonymous. What do you think?"

Your grin widens when you hear Bucky's laughter, heart fluttering when you catch a playful gleam in his blue eyes.

"I think you'd be the only member." Bucky says, watching you make your chocolate drink with a hint of jealousy.

"I could get Steve and Thor involved." You say mock-thoughtfully.

"Do you even have a favourite chocolate if you're a chocaholic?" Bucky asks curiously.

"Oh yeah." You say nonchalantly, adding heaped teaspoons of cocoa mix to your mug, uttering your favourite bar without a second thought. "But there's different brands who use different amounts of cocoa to milk solids and blah blah blah."

You turn and fix Bucky with another smile. "What about you?"

Bucky opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. He can feel heat crawling all over his face and a smile itching to break free; you were the Chocolate Fairy. It was your stash he'd broken into.

No wonder you'd been so touchy about your chocolate.

"I don't have a favourite." Bucky says. "I take what I can get my hands on."

You falter at his words for a moment before grabbing the milk from the fridge. "Yuh huh. I know the type."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bucky teases and you giggle as you put your cocoa in the microwave.

"Nothing."

"It didn't sound like nothing."

"Bucky, come on -"

"Sounds like you were insinuating I was some sort of Chocolate Thief."

You spin around to face him pointing wildly. Bucky points back accusingly.

"You're the Chocolate Thief!" You gasp.

"You're the Chocolate Fairy!" Bucky exclaims back.

A moment passes before you both dissolve into a fit of giggles, interrupted only by the ding of the microwave.

"You bought wayyy too much chocolate, Buck." You snicker, grabbing your mug. "But I'll happily share it with you."

"Sam did say I went overboard but I have a better idea." You raise an eyebrow at Bucky, who gives you a cheeky smile. "We choose some snacks and a movie, melt the chocolate and gorge ourselves into a chocolate coma."

You nod excitedly, your stomach swooping with joy. "It's a date, Thief."

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Your wish is my command

Reader x tfatws Bucky Barnes

Summary: On Bucky and Y/N's anniversary, Bucky is needy for his mommy. Y/N helps him. ;) (this summary sucks, I know)

WARNINGS: 18+ NSFW MDNI SMUT, softdom!reader, subby!bucky, pet names (baby, doll, bubba etc.), slight mommy kink, oral m recieveing, p in v sex. I also thought this was going to be short but it turned out to be a whole slowburn.

You woke up to the feeling of Bucky's lips all over your face, leaving soft kisses everywhere. You started smiling ear-to-ear when he kissed your neck. What a way to start the day.

-Happy anniversary baby. -Bucky murmured into your neck and stayed there. His voice was still raspy from sleeping.

-Happy anniversary to you too, Buck, I can't believe it's been a year already. -You said as you played with his short brunette locks.

You started smiling even more if that's possible, when you remembered last night's events. Bucky planned a little date on the boat that Sam, him and you renovated. You cried on the spot. And no, that didn't finish there. Absolutely. Not. He made your favourite food, bought your favourite flowers. For the gift, he got you both 2 matching pairs of rings and you know he doesn't wear much jewelery but when you told him that he should wear more rings, he obeyed. He trusts you so damn much, he'd risk his life for you. The biggest gift of all, was when he reached behind his neck.

-I've wanted to give these to you for a while now. -He said as he unclasped his dogtags and handed them to you.

-James, I can't, -you said between soft sobs. -I..I can't baby this is..you need these, I can't just grab them from you. -You started babbling and sobbing even more but your emotional moment was interrupted by the feeling of Bucky's lips on yours.

-I don't fucking need them anymore..you've helped me heal, and make me 'James' again and I'm really thankful for that, -he got the tags out of the loose grip of your hands and put them on you. -They look way better on you. -You continued sobbing. -Hey, hey Y/N. -He cradled your head to his chest. -It's okay, God I love you so much. Shhh..-He grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you up so he could see your face properly.

-I love you even more.. -You said kissing him.

-I don't think that's possible.

-Oh but it is..

-Let me show you how much I love you.....

Y/N! You with me?

Wha- oh.. Yeah, umm what were you talking about? -Well, this is embarrasing, you thought.

-I was just telling you that since Sam and I are still 'undercover' or some shit, we can't really go out this evening. I'm so sorry. -He said and looked away from you, ashamed that you can't go out like a normal couple.

-Baby, it's okay, yesterday was enough. Also you're doing your job so I have no right to be upset, okay? -You assured him. -Now let's get up, I have something in mind-He whined at that, buried his face into your chest and tightened his grip on your waist.

-Nooo, just 2 more minitues. Please. -He murmured.

-'Kay baby boy. -You agreed. For those two minitues you were deep in thought, remembering yesterday night, the way he touched you, your core clenching around nothing...

-Time to get up. -You said, Bucky whimpered again. You lifted his face and looked at him sternly.

-Okay, okay, I'll get up. -He huffed out and stood up. You made grabby hands at him to help you up, which he gladly did. You waddled out to the bathroom with his hand in yours. He started washing his face and you admired his back muscles and biceps flexing. God you loved him so much.

-What's going on in that pretty, little head of yours, huh? -He asked.

-Nothin'.. -He looked at you seriously. -..just how much I wanna fuck you right now. -He moved closer to you, lifting your head to look at him. -But we have to get ready, c'mon. -You teased him like this really often, but he still didn't get used to it totally. You made him beg. You looked at him in the mirror and chuckled, seeing the pouty face he was giving you. You just smirked and shook your head.

You started doing your makeup, but was too distracted when he started leaving love bites on your neck.

-Behave, I have things to do. -You said under your breath as a groan left your lips when Bucky bit your neck harshly.

-But mommy...I need you..-he whispered in your ear, sending shiwers down your spine. -Please..- okay that's it, you thought. You lifted his face from your neck and smashed your lips into his and pulled back after mere seconds, fiddling with the tags on your neck.

-Y'know...-you started.. -you are naughty and don't listen to me so..I don't think you deserve it. -you said with a huge grin on your face as Bucky let a high pitched whine escape his lips.

-But, mommy..-He murmured as he kneeled down in front of you. -Please, please, please. -You chuckled at his neediness.

-Hold on, baby, hold on. Mommy's gotta brush her hair. -You said and leaned over his kneeling form to reach for your brush. You brushed through your h/c locks and grabbed his face in your palms.

-Are you going to behave for mommy? -he nodded hastily, kissing your tummy. -Use your words hun. -you teased.

-I'll be good mommy I swear, please please please! -he whined.

-Please what? Tell me. -you lived for the change in his expressions, going from pouty and whiny to being a full on tease with a smirk on his stubbled face.

-I want you to do something with me, please, it tingles.. -he murmured the last part so you asked him: -What tingles? -He just looked down, and when you saw what he was looking at, you almost moaned. He was grabbing himself through his pajama pants.

-Oh you greedy little boy..Let's see what we can do to help those so called tingles go away. -He looked at you with puppy eyes as he nodded slowly.

-Stand up for me, yeah good boy. -He didn't think it was possible to become even harder, but he eventually did at your praise, he loved being your good boy. -What should we do, hmm? -You slipped his pants down to his ankles and he kicked them off.

-Oh my, you really are stiff. -You said as you held him in your hand. He groaned loudly when you tugged at his cock a little. -You like when mommy does that huh? How about this? -You asked as you spit in your hand and started stroking him.

-Fuck yeah..S'good momma. -He moaned. -So so good. Please don't stop.. -He grabbed your head and tried to guide your head down his lenght.

-Nu-uh, mommy's in control right? -You asked as you slowed the ministrations of your hand. He just nodded with a pout. You slapped his thigh and asked again:

-Right?

-Yes, mommy. -He whined and bit slightly on his fist.

-That's my good boy. -And with that you took all of him down your throat. He was not ready for that, even if he was begging for it. He didn't think it was possible to feel more pleasure, but that thought flew out the window when you started rubbing his balls.

-Oh, y-yes, mommy! -He whined. You moved your mouth to suck on his tip only for a mere fraction of seconds and then took him down all at once, his tip kissing your throat.

-I'm gonna come, can I come mommy? -Poor baby was so spent, his voice cracked mid-sentence as tears fell down his cheeks.

-Mhmm..-You hummed in response, as soon as Bucky heard that, he realesed in the confines of your mouth, groaning and whining as pure bliss consumed him. You looked up at him through your lashes as you swallowed, he groaned at the sight. When you made sure you milked every drop from him, you released his cock from your mouth and stood up.

-Did it feel good hun? -You asked as you cupped his face in your hands.

-Yes mommy. -You kissed him so he could taste himself. He moaned into your mouth and grabbed the backs of your thighs. You could feel him getting hard again as you jumped and locked your leg around his narrow waist. You could feel a slight change in his behaviour, but you went with it. He carefully dropped you down on your bed and crawled on top of you while leaving kisses on your body every now an then. When he came face-to-face with you, he kissed you passionately while dipping his hand in the thin material of your underwear.

-Mommy enjoyed sucking me off a litlle too much don't you think? -He asked as he teased your folds with his now slick fingers.

-You don' even need any prepping do you?

-Just fuck me baby. -You moaned as he pulled your panties down. He also undid his your shirt hastily to get a look at your breasts.

-Perfect boobs mommy, can I suck 'em while I make love to you? Please? -He asked and you whined an almost unhearable 'yes' and with that he entered you fully with one thrust. You were still sore from yesterday so tears welled in your eyes quickly. Bucky noticed and slowed the movements of his hips immediately.

-You okay princess? -He asked, worrying about you.

-Y-yes, hurts a bit, don't stop. -You whimpered.

-Are you sure, I don't want to hurt you. -He slowed down completely.

-Oh for fucks sake James! -You shouted and before he could even register what you were doing, you held his waist tightly with your legs, and flipped you both over and started riding him with such power it knocked the air out of his lungs.

-Damn baby, fuck..

-Told ya not to stop, this is what you get. -You said and brought his hands up above his head and held him down. You grinded on him in figure eights slowly to tease him, knowing that he couldn't guide you since his hands were trapped in yours. After a while you got tired of his constant begging so you started mercilessly riding him.

-God, yes baby, filling me up so good. -You both moaned and it was borderline pornographic, you loved it. He leaned forward and captured one of your nipples in his mouth, licking it sloppily when his mouth opened to groan.

-I'm so close Buck, so good for mommy, aren't you. -You asked moaning at the sight of him, looking up at you through his lashes and nibbling on your nipple. He nodded quickly and whined a 'yeah' around your breast.

-Come with me, c'mon baby, I can feel you throbbing, let go.. -You said, grunting as the wave of pleasure and euphoria hit you. Seconds later you felt him coming too.

-Such a good boy for me. -You said as you realesed his hands from your grip so you could lace your fingers together. You made sure you rode your highs out and you slowed your hips, until you stilled fully. When you released Bucky's hands they were instantly on you, as he pulled you close to his body. He whined when you tried to wiggle out of his grip.

-I'm just going to the bathroom baby. We gotta clean up with something. -He whined again.

-James. -You scolded lifting his face to look at you. He whined but let go of your torso.

-Fuck..-you hissed as you got off him. You waddled out to the bathroom for a wet rag so you could clean up. When you were done you entered the bedroom to see Bucky in the same position as before but his eyes were open. You grinned at him as he made grabby hands at you. You sat down beside him and started cleaning his thighs first but when you got to his cock he hissed and whimpered.

-I know, I know.. -You cooed, pushing some of his hair that was stuck to his forehead out of his face. -You're sensitive, I know bubba.. -You soothed, voice soft. You threw the rag in the laundry and went back to him.

-I love you s'much mommy. -He mumbled to you when you moved laid down next to him on the bed.

-I love you too bubba. Ready for some cuddles? -You asked him in a voice so soft and happy, he thought he'd melt on the spot. He nodded and mumbled a small 'yes mommy' and that's all you needed to pull him close to your chest and start rubbing his upper back with one of your hands while the other played with his hair.

-Can we just stay here all day and cuddle? -He asked, voice slurred from pure exhaustion.

-Well, we have nothing else to do so I guess, yeah...I love you so much Bucky.

-I love you more Y/N.

-I doubt that.

A/N : Phew, that's long, it's cute tho, I hope you'll enjoy this as much as I did writing it.

This is your boyfriend, Mom? | Beefy!Bucky Barnes x f!reader.

Pairings: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Single Mom reader. Themes: Bucky getting absolutely roasted by a six and half year old baby boy. Summary: Bucky comes over and meets your very protective son for the very first time. A/N: I'm in a phase where I like Bucky interacting with kids. . .🥲

The doorbell chimes, and you pull open the door, coming face to face with a broad-shouldered figure that fills the entire doorway. Bucky’s piercing blue eyes twinkle with humor, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his posture, as if he’s unsure whether to step inside or bolt.

“You’re here!” you exclaim with a warm smile, stepping aside to let him in.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Bucky murmurs, leaning in for a brief kiss before glancing around your living room nervously. “So, where’s the little guy?”

A shuffle of small feet behind you catches your attention. You turn to see your son peeking out from behind the couch, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he sizes up the man who just entered his territory.

“There he is!” You wave your hand toward your son encouragingly. “Come say hi.”

Your son doesn’t budge, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Bucky like a miniature security guard. “So, this is your boyfriend?”

You can hear the disdain dripping from each word, and Bucky’s lips twitch into an amused smile. “I guess I am.”

“Mom,” your son deadpans, his eyes never leaving Bucky’s. “This is what you’ve been hyping up? He looks like he just rolled out of bed.”

“Hey, kid, I put in a lot of effort today.” Bucky gestures to his dark leather jacket, perfectly disheveled hair, and rugged stubble. “This is my ‘I’m totally put together but still approachable’ look.”

“Approachable?” your son snorts. “With that hair? You look like a drowned dog who’s been through a tornado and then zapped by lightning.”

Bucky blinks, surprised. He looks at you, then back at your son, and his mouth quirks up in a grin. “A drowned dog, huh? That’s original. So, what’s your excuse for your hair?”

Your son’s small hands shoot up defensively to his carefully combed locks. “My hair looks great, thank you very much. I didn’t put all this mousse in for you.”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a laugh. “Be nice,” you whisper to your son, who rolls his eyes dramatically before turning his attention back to Bucky.

“Alright, old man—”

“Old?” Bucky interjects, eyebrows lifting. “I’m still in my prime, kid. What are you, five?”

“I’m six and a half.” Your son’s voice drips with indignation, as if Bucky has committed an unforgivable crime by getting his age wrong. “And you’re still old. You probably creak when you sit down.”

Bucky shakes his head, chuckling. “I don’t creak, but your mom might tell you I’ve got a few squeaky joints, yeah.”

“Ew, don’t—don’t tell me stuff like that.” Your son makes a gagging noise and then glares up at you. “Why is he even here, Mom? You know I’m supposed to have final say.”

“You have final say?” Bucky repeats, clearly intrigued. He shifts his weight, giving the boy a once-over. “What’s your name, anyway, kid?”

“Lucas.” He squares his shoulders, a defiant lift to his chin. “Got it memorized, old man?”

Bucky nods slowly, a glint of amusement in his gaze. “Lucas, huh? Alright, Lucas, I’ll try not to forget it.”

“You better not.” Lucas looks Bucky up and down, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Mom, this guy looks like one of those 90s action figures. You know, the kind where the legs don’t bend, and they’re so top-heavy they keep falling over.”

You snort loudly, unable to hold it in, and Bucky shoots you a betrayed look.

“Kid’s got a point,” you manage to say between laughs, and Bucky shakes his head, feigning exasperation.

“Oh, really?” Bucky folds his arms across his chest, staring down at Lucas. “Well, you look like a baby duck that wandered into a windstorm. All fluffed up and ready to pick a fight, huh?”

Lucas blinks, startled for a moment before narrowing his eyes, a grin forming on his face. “Better than looking like a grumpy cat that hasn’t had its coffee yet.”

You cough to hide your laughter, and Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Grumpy cat?”

“Yeah, with all those lines between your eyebrows.” Lucas steps closer, squinting as if he’s examining a rare species. “I bet you frown at the sun, too.”

You stifle a giggle, and Bucky sighs dramatically, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me, Lucas.”

“Starting?” Lucas tilts his head mockingly. “I’m basically giving you a head start, ‘cause if I really didn’t like you, you’d know.”

Bucky chuckles, glancing at you. “I like him. He’s got guts.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfy, Gramps.” Lucas gestures to the couch with a flourish. “The only reason you’re even here is ‘cause Mom seems to think you’re ‘cute’ or whatever.”

“I am cute,” Bucky agrees seriously, causing Lucas’s mouth to drop open in disbelief.

“No. Way. You’ve got metal bits, and your beard is all scratchy, and—” Lucas cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to Bucky’s stomach. “And a jelly belly! Mom, did you know your boyfriend has a jelly belly?”

“What?” Bucky sputters, glancing down at himself with wide eyes. “I don’t have a jelly belly—Also this beard?” He strokes it like he’s pondering life’s great mysteries. “Your mom likes it.”

“Yes, you do!” Lucas insists, poking at Bucky’s midsection with a tiny finger. “Superheroes are supposed to be all muscle, but you’re hiding a squishy balloon in there.”

“Squishy balloon?” Bucky repeats, looking thoroughly betrayed as he turns to you.

“Lucas,” you chide gently, but your son’s eyes are wide and innocent. “Don’t be mean,” you add, fighting back laughter.

Bucky sighs and looks down at Lucas with a mock serious expression. “You know, I’m part super-soldier, part robot, and part… dad bod. It’s a package deal, kid.”

Lucas narrows his eyes, scrutinizing Bucky’s face. “I guess that makes you a little cooler, but you’re still a metal-armed grumpy pants.”

“Metal-armed grumpy pants?” Bucky echoes, eyebrows lifting. “Wow, we’re just racking up the nicknames today, huh?”

“Yup.” Lucas grins, then frowns again, cocking his head thoughtfully. “You’re also kinda like a… metal mop. All hair up top and a shiny stick arm.”

“A metal mop?” Bucky asks, his voice filled with mock offense as he raises his eyebrows. “You’re really on a roll.”

Lucas shrugs, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “I think it suits you.”

“Well, you’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” Bucky says with a chuckle.

Lucas scowls, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re lucky, you know.”

“Oh?” Bucky leans down, hands on his knees to get on eye level with Lucas. “And why’s that?”

“‘Cause Mom likes you,” Lucas mutters, eyes flickering to you and back to Bucky, a hint of protectiveness in his tone. “But if you hurt her, I’ll tell everyone you still sleep with a nightlight.”

Bucky’s eyes widen in shock. “What? I don’t—”

“Yeah, okay,” Lucas interrupts, holding up a finger. “But I’ll tell everyone you do. Including all the Avengers.”

Bucky’s mouth opens, and then he shuts it, clearly struggling for a response. “You wouldn’t.”

Lucas just stares at him, completely unblinking. “You wanna test me, Mr. Metal Mop?”

Bucky glances at you, looking for support, but you just raise your hands innocently. “He’s tougher than he looks.”

After a long pause, Bucky leans down, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Alright, kid, name your terms.”

Lucas pretends to think for a moment, tapping his chin. “You have to play video games with me… three times. No complaints. And no quitting when I beat you.”

Bucky looks horrified. “I—”

“Deal?” Lucas extends his tiny hand with a sly grin.

Bucky glances between you and Lucas, then sighs dramatically. “Deal.”

Lucas’s grin widens. “Oh, and one more thing—if I catch you throwing the controller in frustration, I’ll know you can’t handle losing.”

Bucky stares at him, completely lost for words.

“Just a fair warning.” Lucas pats Bucky’s arm as if he’s the one doing Bucky a favor. “Welcome to the family, Mr. Jelly Belly who’s gonna get his butt kicked at Mario Kart.”

You burst out laughing, and Bucky groans, running a hand down his face. “You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope.” Lucas shakes his head with a grin. “Better practice up, Grumpy Pants.”

“Practice? Against you?” Bucky scoffs, but the smile pulling at his lips betrays him. “Kid, I’m gonna wipe the floor with you.”

“Sure, Mr. Nightlight,” Lucas replies smoothly. “Sure.”

Bucky glances at you and then back at Lucas, a mischievous look in his eye. “You know, at this rate, you’re gonna start calling me Dad.”

Lucas pauses, then tilts his head with a confused look. “Why would I call you Dad?”

Bucky smirks. “Because you know I’ll beat you so bad at those video games, you’re gonna need a parental figure to console you.”

“Right, I can call you Dad,” Lucas’s eyes light up, and he leans in, voice dropping to a whisper. “Only if you pay me twenty bucks a week, Dad.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. “Twenty bucks?!”

“Yeah,” Lucas shrugs nonchalantly. “Think of it as a ‘dad fee.’ I’m expensive. Mom’s got good taste.”

Bucky looks at you, baffled. “Did he just—?”

“Oh, and I’ll need a ride to school every morning,” Lucas continues, holding up his fingers as he lists his demands. “And ice cream. Twice a week. But no toppings. I’m not greedy.”

Bucky bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “You really thought this through, huh?”

“Business is business,” Lucas says with a serious nod. “So, what’s it gonna be, Dad?”

Bucky blinks, then leans back and sighs dramatically. “Sorry, buddy, but I think I’ll just stick with Mr. Metal Mop.”

Lucas crosses his arms, a sly grin forming on his lips. “Your loss. Could’ve been Dad. Now you’re just gonna be the guy who cried during Shrek.”

Bucky’s shoulders slump as he glances at you, utterly defeated. “I’m doomed.”

“Yup,” you say with a grin. “But hey, at least you didn’t agree to the ‘dad fee.’”

“True,” Bucky mutters, then he turns back to Lucas, raising an eyebrow. “But for the record, I did not cry during Shrek.”

“Sure, Mr. Nightlight,” Lucas deadpans. “Sure.”

Monstertober Day 8

Careful what you wish for 🕯

Pairing: Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Initial Somnophilia, dub con, kind of rape, insults/degrading language, biting, scratching, marking, mentions of blood, womb tattoo/sigil, dumbification, aphrodisiac, vibrator, p in v, overstimulation, cunnilingus, demon summoning, beefy!bucky, condescending!Bucky, dark!bucky, praise, fluff

Nicknames: Angel, Doll, sweetness

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I’m so sorry this is late, I was extremely busy on Halloween with teacher training and university work. But this concludes Monstertober, I have some exciting things planned for November.

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

Candles…You look around your floor surrounded by heaps of softly glowing candles, their flames waning and brightening again and again as the flame danced in the draft of your room. “Check.” you murmured, casting your eyes back to the grimoire’s aged pages; squinting in the darkness of your room trying to see the faded ink more clearly “stupidly complicated pentagram that took me multiple attempts and almost two hours to draw. Check.” You huffed glaring down at the pentagram drawn in white chalk on your floor, the edges smudged ever so slightly from where you’d repeatedly rubbed it away, only to redraw it wrong again. “An offering.” The book had not specified the offering that you had to provide for the demon, it simply said offering in intricate calligraphy “,how very helpful.” Grumbling you crouched to your knees, placing the grimoire down and scooping up your pile of “offerings” depositing them at random in a small circle inside your pentagram. Your offerings, if you could even call them that, consisted of a some loose change you’d found under and behind furniture, some candies you had lying around from halloween that the children hadn’t taken, a lock of your hair and a deeply personal item—which was the only clear instruction in the list, and you had chosen your trusty pink vibrator. Looking at the pink vibe on the floor made you want to crawl out of your skin in embarrassment, but it made the most sense since it was very deeply personal.

You picked the book back up and seated yourself in the centre of the summoning circle, you could feel your heart rate spike as you glanced down at the page for the summoning words. Your hands shook, palms growing cold and sweaty as you began “Heed my call, hear my cry may it lead you to me from your realm far away. I command you to my side so that we may make a contract.” You bite down on your finger drawing blood and swipe it across the floor “See me now and let me see you.” You blow out the candles around you and wait. You gulp as you sit cross legged in the dark, waiting. The sound of your breathing and your blood rushing makes the silence unbearable.

Nothing happens.

After sitting there for five minutes, you climb to your feet defeated. Tears on your waterline as you throw the book to the floor and flop into bed. You felt so stupid for even thinking that something like that would work, you feel the full weight of your adrenaline rush crashing to ground as curl under your covers rocking yourself to sleep s you mentally prepare for the rent payment tomorrow.

The blown out candles relight simultaneously as he steps out of the red swirling portal “You called?” He looked down expecting to see the person who summoned him, but he found the chalk pentagram staring back at him. He bends down, picking up the book you’d thrown harshly to the floor with a frown. He dusts off the grimoire, tracing the embossing in the leather cover with his blackened fingers, turning down the heat of his brimstone skin so the book doesn't burn. From the corner of his eye he catches your body shifting under the covers. He sets the grimoire gently on your chest of drawers and pads over to your bed “Wake up my little sleeping Angel.” He whispers in a gravelly tone, forming an ‘o’ with his reddened lips and blowing a stream of cold air against your ear lobe making you stir. He seats himself on the edge of your bed trailing his hand across your sleeping form “You’re wearing too much for my liking. Let me help you with that.” He threw the covers off of you and turned you more on to your back so he could peel your baggy shirt off, moving as quiet as a mouse. You were left only in a pair of panties, your comfortable pair that you wore when you knew no one would be seeing them, Bucky smiled at them thumbing the fabric adoringly. He ran his fingers across the middle of your panties till a soaking crease was visible. “Already so horny for me, naughty little human.” Bucky pulled down your panties, taking them into his hand to see the clear, sticky proof of your arousal. He tossed the panties already able to smell the thick scent of your arousal, he knew he had to taste you. He dipped his head down, running his tongue through your folds, groaning at the taste of you. He decided there and then he was going to claim you as his. He sucked on his fingers, getting them wet, before inserting them inside of you. Your walls drew him in, clamping so tightly around his fingers that he could barely move them. His hardened cock twitched as he imagined sliding into you, pounding you awake watching as your pleasured cries turned into pleas for him to stop. He had to stop a wicked grin from spreading across his lips. “You’ve been neglected for so long, Pet. Bucky’s gonna change that don’t you worry sweetheart. Who would neglect such a pretty pussy, so fucking tight.” His fingers start to glide through your spasming walls as they adjust to the thickness of his fingers. He targets the spongy spot inside you, debaucherous wet sounds filing the sleepy silence of your room. He paused as a soft mewl left your lips, your body shifting and your fisted hands tightening their hold on your pillow. He continued his ministrations even as your eyes fluttered open and you finally came to, your pleasured babbling pausing. You stared, horrified at the man sitting at the edge of your bed. Your eyes travelled up to the black horns on his head that looked like a ram's horns then down his red eyed that even in the darkness stuck out like a sore thumb, they shone like road studs in headlights stealing your attention before he opened his mouth displaying sharp, white teeth “Thanks for summoning me, Angel. I can see why you needed an incubus. You seem to be very pent up, but I can fix that for you.” His deep melodic voice made the initial stress you felt drift far away. You gaze drops downwards following the muscle of his neck down to the imposing bulk of his shoulders and arms, the rise and fall of his burly chest becoming hypnotising as his scent reaches your nostrils a mix of myrrh and musk that has your head swimming making you completely forget what he said. The feel of his rough palm cupping your cheek anchors you “I said, thank you for summoning me, Angel.”

“I didn’t summon an incubus. You- You have the wrong house.”

“No need to be coy. It’s fine to need a bit of help.”

“No, I genuinely didn’t summon an incubus. I wanted to Summon a demon that could help me. I'm working two jobs, I’m exhausted, the cost of everything is rising and I just can’t anymore. I'm running myself into the ground. I must have summoned the wrong type of demon.”

“Ah, that's Ari’s department. I’d contact him, but he’s a bit busy with a few cultists. So I guess you’re stuck with me for the time being, but I can help you in a different way, Doll.” His other hand reaches to the side of him and heat floods your cheeks as your eyes lock on the pink vibrator he has between his fingers. He pops it into his mouth like a hard candy and sucks it a little before spitting it back into his palm, pressing the button to turn it on “Nice and ready for you.” He chides, slipping his fingers out of your tight heat replacing the emptiness with the warmed, whirling vibrator. You feel your stomach constrict in pleasure as he guides the pink bullet in further with his fingers, positioning it right against your sweet spot. Shooting you a knowing smile as you sob your walls fluttering around his fingers as you convulse “Such a good girl for me, coming all over my fingers.” Bucky coos taking the vibe out from inside you bringing it to the head of his weeping cock moaning as he rubs it against his precum leaking slit, pumping his length with his other ashen hand “Time for you to take me sweetness.” You try to scramble away from him but he was much quicker than you, sensing your fear before it had even registered inside your brain. His warm rough palm seized your thigh pulling you back in position.

“It won’t fit! You’re going to tear me in two. Please can you just forget I summoned you.”

“Oh, Doll, that’s not how this works. You summoned me, I have duties to fulfill and in exchange for said duties I get your soul. I’m not leaving, this will not be forgotten. Regardless, you need to breathe; I’m not going to ‘tear you in two’ that sigil on your womb will make sure of it and make it pleasurable whilst I do. So calm down for me, I don’t like it when humans make my job more difficult than it has to be so behave and you’ll be rewarded.” His threats wrapped up in a sweet tone making it seem as if he wasn’t patronising you. Despite this you began to calm down, wrapping your legs around his hips and controlling your breathing. Your eyes drifted down his muscular torso, focusing on the intricate tattoo like patterns on his skin to relax your mind. The tattoos brought you down to the deep ‘v’ line of his pelvis and back to his veiny member which he was prodding to your entrance. You were pulled out of the trace-like state that his prominent veins had put you in, as he bottomed out in you until your walls were stretched taut around his meaty shaft. He stays still until the burn subsides, watching as your eyes gain a hazy, spaced out glaze and your mouth drops open in an inaudible moan. He pulls out and thrusts so hard into you that your bed scoots under the force, the sound of skin slapping skin echos through your small room as Bucky snaps his hips into you pushing himself deeper and deeper each time, his movements are slow yet rough making you feel every inch of him as he fucks into your tight heat. A surge of heat spread all the way from your hips to the sole of your feet and the tips of your fingers, you felt almost drunk on pleasure, every single thrust of his hips renewing the heat. Your whole body tingles as he presses the vibrator to your clit “God!” You scream as your legs wrapped around his waist begin to shake.

“Oh no sweet little Angel, God isn’t here. In this room, right now, I am your God. You worship me. I give you pleasure.” He purrs, swirling the vibe on your pulsing pearl as he angles the tip of his cock to hit your sweet spot over an over, drawing the orgasm building inside of you to the surface making you cum with a whimpering cry.

The sound of your blood rushing in your ears filled your senses as you came down from your high, even as you came back to your senses you felt much more distanced from reality; your body felt as if it was submerged in a warm bath, and slowly but surely you were sinking below the water. Your break was cut short by Bucky continuing his thrusts, his hand pressing the vibrator to your now throbbing clit didn’t budge—he instead pushed down more harshly on your clit making your legs quake uncontrollably “Hnng! Please!” Was all you could force out before your tongue became useless, lolling out of your mouth. You came again with a shout, clawing Bucky’s back with your nails as you threw your head back into the pillow, your back arching even further into the air. You came so hard you forgot how to breathe, a heavy weight crushing your chest, as you slumped back into the mattress trying your hardest to breathe Bucky finally removed the vibe from your raw little nub. His palm flattened against your stomach where the sigil was placed rubbing a slow circle that set your nerves on fire, before he brought his hand up to the bulge in your stomach and pressed harshly with his thumb tearing a whimper from your throat.

“Fuck you can see me inside of you, Angel. I’m all up in your guts rearranging them. Turning you into the perfect little cock sleeve, gonna make sure I ruin you for any other man. Oh wait, you won't be taking any other man after me. Because; You. Belong. To. Me.” Her punctuated every word with a rough thrust, bashing your cervix which would usually hurt but whatever he did gave you a supreme, otherworldly amount of pleasure “the sigil is almost full, one more orgasm and my seed should be enough to fill it. Do you think you can take it?” He questions a small smile gracing his lips as he awaits your answer, but all you can do is mumble “So fucked out that you can’t even form a sentence, your heads probably so empty right now, my little fuck doll. It’s okay, you don’t need to think, Angel, let me do that for you; can’t expect a dumb little human like you who can’t even read the pages of a very clear, simple book correctly.” His hand slithers up your body towards your neck, wrapping around your throat before he starts to apply pressure—observing as your body begins to melt into the mattress. His thrusts continued and paired with the lack of oxygen bright flashes of white flicker across your vision. All your nerves began to thrum as you felt another orgasm coming, your wall clamped around him as you got closer to the edge. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, he released your neck allowing air to flow back into your lungs as he dipped his head down to your shoulder inking his teeth into your skin. The overwhelming sensations of lightheadedness, pleasure and pain threw your senses into orbit as you came your pussy squeezing his cock as you raked your nails across his back hard enough to draw blood. Bucky gave a few more weak, uncoordinated thrusts before he painted your insides with a wanton moan gripping the pillow hard enough for it to tear. You could barely comprehend your surroundings, you felt as if you were made of air and if Bucky let go of you you’d dissipate. Your heart hammered against your rib cage, as you stared up at Bucky’s handsome face; his sweat darkened hair glued to his forehead. He let out a chuckle, his hand caressing the sigil at your womb “Happy Halloween, Angel. This is the last one you’ll ever have to spend alone. The contract has been made and now, you belong to me. Forever.”

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483 @little-bunny0523 @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @teambarnes72 @wintasssoldier @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria @anniellacinamon @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @teddybearsgrr

Timeless

The timeless love that Bucky had

I found it in a dusty shoe box today. 

The photograph. 

Folded corners, a little torn on the edges, and yellowed with age. Still, the image was clear enough to see your grin. boyish and crooked, the same one that made my heart skip in 1941. 

He was standing in front of the corner diner in Brooklyn, arm slung around me, your military uniform still crisp from training. my dress was too long, my hair and soft curls. You say I looked like the dames in the movies, though I never believed you. 

I sat on the floor of our apartment- our apartment, the one SHIELD helped me find after they confirmed you were alive and time folded and on itself. Because just like that, I was 19 again. Just like that, I could smell the leather of your bomber jacket and hear the way you'd say my name, like a prayer and a promise all wrapped in one. 

The war stole everything. You, Steve, entire lifetimes. 

I cried the day they said you'd fallen off the train. Not the soft, cinematic tears they show in films, but the ugly, just even kind -  the kind where grief grabs you by the throat and doesn't let go. For decades, you were a ghost I couldn't touch. A heartbeat I thought I imagined. The man I loved turned myth. 

But now you're back. 

Not the same, not entirely. There are cracks in you, deep ones, and shadows behind your eyes that weren't there before. Sometimes you flinch when I touch you. Sometimes you look at me like you are remembering, and other times like you wish you could forget. 

But then there are the other times. 

Like when we walk through Central Park and you still reach for my hand, like instinct. Or when you find old swing records and the antique shops and your face softens-  because you know that's our music. The Andrews sisters, Ella Fitzgerald, Glenn miller. You dance with me in the kitchen sometimes, when the memories aren't too loud. 

And in those moments, I know what we are. 

We’re timeless. 

We always were.  from the second I locked eyes at the USO dance and you offered me a Coca-Cola with that charming little smart. from the letters you sent me, ink smudged and pages worn, telling me you'd be home soon. From the nights I kept the porch light on, hoping. 

Even now, with silver in your hair and the world completely changed, I look at you and I know. You're always meant to come back to me. Somehow, some way. Even when time tried to erase us. 

And when we're old, if we're lucky enough to grow old, I hope someone finds that photo of us. I hope they ask about the girl with stars in her eyes and the soldier who came back from the dead. I hope they feel what I feel when I look at it: 

That this love, the story, was always something out of time.

Something not of this world. 

Something timeless. 

Love Language - Bucky Barnes

Acts of Service

He’s not good at saying what he’s feeling but he will show you with the little things. 

He randomly fixes things around your house because he saw it was broken. 

“It was bothering you, wasn’t it?” 

He would get a head start on your morning routine for you, fixing her coffee, getting coat, and bag together. 

“Here, I didn’t want you running all around in the morning.” 

Does the chores that you forgot about the day before and doesn’t even mention it. 

When he’s not on missions, he will always cook you breakfast, no matter what. 

It doesn’t matter that he had no sleep from a mission he got back on, he will be in that kitchen flipping pancakes, scrambling eggs, making coffee, or whatever he makes. 

He always makes sure your flower vase is full, always replacing them before they die. 

If you fall asleep somewhere, he will pick you up and tuck you into bed. 

When he goes on morning runs, he takes your dog with him. 

He takes responsibility for taking care of your dog.

He's a gentleman to you.

He opens your doors, holds your bags, walks on the outside of the sidewalk.

Bucky x Witch Practitioner

Learns that she’s a love witch and learns what that includes. 

He doesn’t understand the things she needs sometimes. 

“What is licorice root and why do you need it?” 

“Why do you need my birth time again?” 

“What’s that crystal next to my side of the bed?” 

He notices that she takes her time with her makeup and hair because beauty magic is important to her. 

Her whole home smells like roses. 

She always has roses in her home. 

She makes him custom herbal teas. 

She makes him a sleep sachet to place under his pillow to help with his nightmares. 

She hides little sigils on him or in his gear for protection and safety on missions. 

After he comes back from missions, she will do bath rituals for him to relax. 

He always gets her roses and pretty flowers for her “pink altar” (love altar). 

He nieces that she spray Florida water in the sheets and blankets after waking up and then spray his side with lavender spray and hers with rose. 

She tells him the lavender or chamomile will help with keeping him calm and help with sleep. 

Crystals everywhere (especially rose quartz & clear quartz the most). 

He thinks it’s really cute that you do spell work for him. 

I love Bucky 🥰

The Soldier and His Mission

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Summary: When a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence.

You should’ve known something was wrong the moment Bucky went still.

One second, the mission was wrapping up—just another Hydra facility wiped off the map, just another set of goons taken down. The next, something triggered him. A phrase muttered in Russian over a radio, the faintest crackle of a long-dead handler’s voice. You saw the shift in his posture before he even turned around, the telltale tightening of his jaw, the blankness overtaking those usually warm blue eyes.

Bucky Barnes was gone.

The Winter Soldier stood in his place.

And yet—he didn’t hurt you.

Not when he turned to face the team, his body language bristling with danger. Not when Steve hesitated before stepping forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. And certainly not when you cautiously called his name, your voice softer than the others.

Instead, the Soldier moved between you and everyone else.

A shield.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Back at the Tower, you thought the episode would pass. That maybe, after a few hours, after enough familiar sights and sounds, Bucky would shake it off like he always did.

But the Soldier wasn’t leaving. And he had decided you were his mission.

Not to eliminate.

To protect.

At first, it was just hovering. You moved—he followed. You sat—he stood at your back, ever watchful. The others gave him space, exchanging worried glances when they thought you weren’t looking. Steve was tense, obviously trying to figure out how to break through, while Tony was less patient about it.

“This is a problem,” Stark declared after the first few hours, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. “I mean, I hate to be the one to say it, but we have a fully armed, brainwashed assassin in the Tower again, and we all know how that went last time.”

“He’s not attacking anyone,” Natasha pointed out.

“Yet,” Tony shot back.

You ignored the argument as best you could, focusing instead on cooking something for Bucky—something normal, something familiar, something that might ground him. His eyes tracked you the entire time.

Then you miscalculated the heat on the stove.

The oil in the pan hissed and spat, and a second later, you hissed too as a sharp sting bloomed across your palm. You barely had time to react before there was a sudden blur of motion.

Bucky was on you instantly.

His flesh hand gripped your wrist, his metal one hovering protectively over the stove, as if it had personally attacked you. His face was unreadable, but his grip was firm, his hold gentle as he examined the burn.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, but he wasn’t listening.

Instead, he took the cold pack you hadn’t even reached for yet and pressed it carefully to your palm, his jaw tight, his brows furrowed in focus. You exchanged a look with Steve over Bucky’s shoulder, and the Captain exhaled, something like relief flashing in his eyes.

He was still in there.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The Soldier continued shadowing you for the next two days, much to Tony’s frustration. But as Natasha had pointed out—he wasn’t hurting anyone.

Unless they posed a threat to you.

That was something Steve learned firsthand during a sparring session. You had barely landed a hit before Bucky, watching from the sidelines, had moved. The next thing you knew, Steve was on his ass, blinking up at the ceiling, while Bucky stood between you like a human wall, eyes cold and calculating.

“For the record,” Steve grunted as he sat up, rubbing his ribs, “I was letting her win.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It wasn’t until you needed a medical checkup that things really came to a head.

“Barnes, I have to actually examine her,” Dr. Cho said patiently, eyeing where Bucky stood between you and the med bay’s equipment.

“No,” he replied flatly.

“Bucky—” you tried.

“The room is secure.”

“That’s not the—”

“She does not require assistance.”

“I do require assistance,” you corrected. “Because I burned my hand and twisted my shoulder thanks to a certain super soldier overreacting in the gym.”

Bucky didn’t move.

You exhaled slowly.

“Okay,” you said, shifting tactics. “Then stay.”

That got his attention.

“If you want to make sure nothing happens to me,” you reasoned, “then you can stay here. But you have to let the doctor check me out.”

His expression was unreadable for a long moment. Then, after what felt like an eternity—

“…Understood.”

Progress.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When it finally broke, it wasn’t dramatic.

There was no grand trigger, no huge revelation.

Just a moment of quiet.

You had fallen asleep on the couch, exhaustion finally winning after two days of Bucky’s overprotective hovering. When you woke up, it was to warm hands gently brushing over your wrist—both flesh and metal, but softer this time, as if relearning the feeling of touching you.

And then you heard it—his breath hitching.

A tiny, barely-there sound, but one filled with something raw.

You blinked sleepily, looking up.

Bucky was staring at you. Not the Soldier. Bucky.

His face was pale, his jaw tight, his eyes wide—his real eyes.

“…Doll?” His voice cracked over the word, like it had been caught in his throat.

You smiled sleepily, shifting so your fingers curled around his. “Hey, Buck.”

His exhale was shaky. His shoulders sagged. And when you tugged him down to you, he didn’t resist.

He just buried his face in your neck and held on.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You scared the hell out of me, you know,” you murmured later, your fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as he rested against you.

“I know,” he admitted, voice rough.

“You threw Steve like a ragdoll.”

“…Yeah.”

“…Kind of hot, not gonna lie.”

A laugh. Quiet, but real.

And just like that, Bucky Barnes was back.

Shattered Pieces

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Genre: Romance.

Warnings: Smut. +18. Wrap it before you tap it guys ;)

Summary: Bucky and Y/N were in love back in the 40s but Hydra took Bucky away from Y/N. Y/N tried to find him but HYDRA stopped her and she paid a price. Now all they knew was Bucky was dead, however they were wrong. Can she face the new Bucky, the infamous Winter Soldier?

This story takes place in Captain America The Winter Soldier.Sorry for any tyops. Likes and comments are welcomed in this house lol, stay safe my dudes!! 

Chapter 6 Final

It had been days and Shuri was stuck, she finished the vibranium arm and gave it to Bucky, but she couldn't make a device to bring his memories back. She was scared to tell Y/N so she decided to give them few days.

Y/N was getting ready for bed, she trained all day and now she was tired. After that dinner Bucky was more closer to her, they were talking often and he was helping her gardening. She looked out from her window and saw his place, there was no light, however she started to hear some noises. ''Is he okay?''

She decided to check if something was wrong, she was wearing her black nightgown so she threw a cardigan on her shoulders and walked outside. Hesitantly came to his carpet door, she was right he was screaming. With a rush of adrenaline she walked inside, there was no one but him. He was on his bed and having a nightmare and she could see the thin sweat on his naked chest, she came closer to the bed.

It broke her to see him like that, in pain and alone. Y/N laid her hands on her shoulders and started to shake him, ''Buck, wake up.'' but he wasn't hearing her. ''No- stop..''

She got on top of him and cupped his sweaty cheeks, ''James! Wake up.'' and he opened his eyes, but something was wrong. He wasn't fully aware of what was happening so he, -with a quick movement- pulled her under him. ''It's me Buck. You were having a nightmare.'' Y/N as shocked how quick he was, his deep blue eyes were staring into her soul, he was panting heavily. ''Did- did I hurt you?'' He asked, Y/N's hands were on his shoulders, she liked how the vibranium felt. ''No, I heard your screaming and decided to came and check on you.''

Bucky was filled with strange emotions, in his dream he was sent to kill Y/N and right before he accomplished his mission thankfully she wake him up. 

''I thought-'' He wanted to explain but later he gave up, ''Screw it.'' and he planted a kiss on her lips. 

Y/N was shocked by his sudden action but she didn't complain. She kissed him back with passion, he was yearning for this moment and lost himself in this familiar feeling. When they parted they found themselves smiling like two idiots they were. 

''Don't stop.'' Y/N begged, it had been so long, Bucky didn't mean to stop but he just wanted her to verbally give him consent. Y/N's legs were on his waist and she could feel his growing member, Bucky removed her cardigan and attacked her neck. He knew where her sweet spot was and he sucked and kissed that place which made her shiver and moan out loud. Bucky had a smirk on his pink, swollen lips. She kissed him like there was no tomorrow, like there were just them in Wakanda, in the entire universe. Bucky's flesh hand went between her legs and felt the slick fabric of her underwear. 

''Someone is eager.'' He said with that husky voice of his, he removed her nightgown and her wet panties. He only had a black underwear and Y/N helped him get rid of it. The tip of his member was covered with pre-cum, she decided to give it a few pumps while kissing him and she recieved moans and curses from him, 

''Fuck doll. You killing me.'' 

She smirked, she was proud of herself. Bucky stopped her hand, ''If you keep going like that i'll cum. I wanna feel you doll.'' it excited her. She laid back, ''If I hurt you just tell me and I'll stop. Okay princess?'' His fingers were playing with her pussy, it was hard for her to speak, he placed his middle finger in, ''Use your words.''

''Yes Sarge.'' She knew the nickname had an effect on him.

''Damn baby, fuck!'' he fingered her wet cunt, the obscene sound made his cock ache, he grabbed her boob with his vibranium hand and played with the tit, sucked on it while looking at her. The scene before her eyes was divine, heavenly, otherworldly. He added second finger and his thumb was playing with her clit. It was like he knew how to please her, as she came on his hand she screamed, ''Bucky!''

He pulled out his fingers and licked them, ''Hmm, doll you taste delicious.'' he was back, her Bucky was back and it made her smile ear to ear. He kissed her and she tasted herself on his lips, his chest was on her chest, she loved how intimate they were. 

He placed his tip on her cunt, ''Ready for me doll?'' 

''Yes please.'' 

He didn't waste any seconed and placed himself in her fully, her head fell on the pillow, she arched her back. It had been a while since she slept with anyone and the feeling of Bucky burried inside of her almost made her cum undone. She knew he was hesitant, still afraid of hurting her so she looked into his deep ocean eyes, 

''I love you.'' she shocked herself, it just slipped out. 

Bucky's mouth slowly opened, this woman before him just confessed her love, it filled his heart with the sense of home and warmness. 

''I love you.'' He said and started to move inside her. It was intense.

Y/N was tense but after hearing him confessing his love, she shed few tears. She felt his teeth on her neck leaving new bruises as he was moving. As they came she knew that she will be walking funny tomorrow, Bucky came in her and collapsed on her heaving chest, her hand went to his long black hair. ''I've changed my mind.'' Bucky said, his head was still on her chest, ''About what?'' Y/N asked scrared, when it came to Bucky it could be anything. 

''I don't want to spend my years in a cryo. I want to be with you again, I want you to tell me stories of us back in the day. If that's okay with you-'' she could see how insecure he was, ''I will take care of you now.'' Y/N said looking into his beautiful eyes.

''It's a rotten work.'' He replied, feeling unworthy of love.

''Not to me, not if it's you.''

                                                   The End

Thank you for reading and coming along on this journey with me. See you in another fic, or not ;)

Tag list: @jellyroom2​ @allonszassbutt​ @haynsey​ @toomuchbucky​ @putinovertime​ @marialopezzz0922​

Shattered Pieces

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Genre: Romance. Smut in the future. Angst.

Warnings: None. Long ass chapter, get a cup of tea for this lol

Summary: Bucky and Y/N were in love back in the 40s but Hydra took Bucky away from Y/N. Y/N tried to find him but HYDRA stopped her and she paid a price. Now all they knew was Bucky was dead, however they were wrong. Can she face the new Bucky, the infamous Winter Soldier?

This story takes place in Captain America The Winter Soldier.This will be a short story. Sorry for any tyops. Likes and comments are welcomed in this house lol, stay safe my dudes!! Text me if I forgot to tag you <333

Tag List is open!!!!

(gif isn’t mine)

Chapter 5

(Flashback)

Y/N wore her red swimsuit, it had a cute bow on the waist, she had to sneak out early in the morning before her mother made her take care of her little siblings. a week ago Steve invited her to Coney Island, it was summer and he wanted to swim so she agreed. Steve's mother and her mother were childhood bestffriends so that's how they became friends. They were going to meet on the same spot where they went last year, she checked her bag to see if she got everything and then she left her neighborhood. She was early so she laid he towel on the hot sand and decided to sunbathe before he came.

Bucky was begging Steve to introduce him to Y/N for days now, he saw her leaving Steve's house with her parents and ever since he wanted to talk to her but Steve only thought that Bucky was being Bucky, a ladies man, that's why he didn't want Bucky to break her heart. Yesterday Steve gave in, he promised to take him to Coney Island to meet Y/N. Now they were looking for her on the beach, ''Where is she?'' Bucky asked excited, he was carrying the big umbrella -not like he was going to let Steve carry it- ''Right there.'' Steve pointed and they walked to her. Y/N didn't hear them coming but two shadows blocked her sun so she opened her eyes, when she saw Steve she stood up and hugged him tightly, ''Hey buddy!'' she was the only girl Steve felt comfortable to be around, Bucky was in awe of her beauty. Her red swimsuit looked perfect on her, showing her curves. ''Hi, I'm Bucky.'' Y/N turned to him, she never saw him before but Steve talked about him alot. She touched his hand lightly, ''Y/N.'' she simply said, not interested. Steve could see that Bucky's usual charm wasn't working on Y/N, she wasn't a simple girl after all. 

As the day went by they talked, Steve sometimes left them alone, Y/N understood what was going on. ''I have 4 siblings.'' Bucky said, the subject was family, ''I have 3 small ones. And let me tell you it's no fun, it's like I'm their ma sometimes.'' she confessed, taking a bite from her hotdog. ''I know what you mean. Hey, would you like to swim with me? It's hot here.'' Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, ''Alright.'' 

She wasn't a good swimmer and Bucky took advantage of that, showing her new positions and getting small chances of touching her. He was a fun guy to be around, at the end of the day without realizing Bucky fell in love, and so did Y/N. They spent all of their money and hopped on the back of a truck to go back home. Steve noticed their happines, they looked cute together. Y/N was playing hard to get first but one day Bucky broke a beer glass on a dude's head because he was flirting with his gal, and that day they both expressed their feelings. 

Their relationship had it's ups and downs, they could be really jealous and possessive, and it caused ugly fights. One time Y/N left finger nail marks on a girl's face just because he touched Bucky's arm. After Bucky joined the army their parents knew about them so it got serious. And then finally he proposed to her, he had it in his mind for months, as he was visiting her they decided to get ice cream and watch the sunset. The orangy colour made her skin look divine, her scent was something he could never forget, right at that moment he knew he could not live without her so he proposed, they didn't need rings or a fancy restaurant. She said yes, all night they danced in their small home and made love. Their love was something all their friends envied, however they turned into Ikarus, life seperated them and made them fall, hard. 

As she was telling their love story briefly she watched the way his expression changed. In the beginning he looked happy but towards the end he got sad and angry, it was like he remembered some parts, when she finished a thick silence filled the room, it was a lot to take in. ''A beautiful and tragic story.'' Finally Bucky spoke giving her a cup of coffee. Their fingers slightly brushed, it gave them a shallow breath. ''Yeah, if it wasn't for Hydra we would have a family and be burried side by side.'' She confessed what she thought, she always wanted to grow old with him but life had it's own plans for them. ''I still have the letters you sent from army, I can give them to you.'' She opened her backpack and pulled out the yellow papers. Bucky took them carefully, he was eager to learn so he started to read them. ''I remember this, it was the day when Steve saved me and I felt like I had to write to you and give you the good news.'' A tremulous smile touched his face as he finished reading all the letters, ''Why do you still keep them?'' he asked, she rolled her eyes ''You were the love of my life Bucky, after losing you those letters kept me alive.'' her comment startled him. Because all his life he was nothing but a disaster, taking lives and destorying families so the idea of someone loving him so deeply left him speechless.  She took them back and he watched how she was regardful to them,

''Does she still love me?''

he didn't dare to ask, not yet at least. ''What is your plan? If you don't leave Steve will find you.'' He shrugged his shoulders, ''I haven't decided, but I don't wanna run anymore.'' he was tired, after years of brainwashing and being an assassin takes a toll on you. She stood up, it was time to leave. Y/N got close to him and stood still right in front of him, he was still sitting so he moved his head up to meet her gaze. She traced his cheek with the back of her hand, Bucky closed her eyes with the action, ''Old habits die hard.'' she thought. ''I can't expect you to be the same man I fell in love in 1936, because none of us is the same anymore, but please find your way back to me.'' He opened his eyes to see her, she knelt to gave him a kiss on his cheek, ''Good night James.'' a tear found it's way out and left a warm feeling on his cheek.

Soon disasters followed one another, Bucky was framed for the bombing at Vienna and later they found out that it was the plan of scientific genius Baron Zemo who was after revenge. They had to take Bucky away from T'challa, and Tony Stark and it was hard for Y/N to fight her friends. However, they managed to take Bucky to Wakanda it was Steve's and Y/N secret. No one could know.

Their plan was to make Bucky remember, but the problem was that Bucky wanted to be frozen again and wait for God knows how long, Steve suggested that he sould at least try to remember and Bucky finally said yes. It was their first week on Wakanda, Steve had to leave so it was just Bucky, Y/N and the rest of the Wakanda. The new king -T'challa- and his family welcomed them with open arms, Shuri -king's baby sister- was a genius and she promised to Steve that she would design something to make Bucky remember his past vividly, but Bucky gave them a deadline, they only had a month and that was it, if the plan was to fail he would go back on ice.  Their first week went silent, Bucky's broken silver metal arm was gone and Shuri secretly was making a new one with the vibranium, it was a unique metal which could absorb, store, and release large amounts of  kinetic energy. King gave them small houses on the country side, the houses had dome roofs and they were by the river. Y/N loved the place, she made  herself a garden for flowers and some fruits. 

It was late night, Y/N was on her garden watching the river and the shiny stars above her, she was the one who didn't want to live in the same house with Bucky because she knew that it would be too much for both of them. Bucky, the White Wolf as they called him, needed to rest his mind first. Shuri came to see her, she was a nice girl and respected Y/N dearly. ''What a beautiful night.'' Y/N said welcoming her, ''It is.'' she came and sat on the cold grass, ''Would you like some tea? I just made it.'' Y/N offered kindly, ''I'll get it.'' Shuri said and walked inside, even though they just met they were becoming close friends quickly and it made Y/N smile, it had been a long time since she had a girl bestie. ''I hope you have some good news.'' Y/N finally spoke, Shuri was busy with her new technological designs to make Bucky remember, ''I know you want the device to work immediately but I'm actually stuck. Don't tell my bro that.'' her comment made her laugh, ''I promise.'' she finished her tea. ''I've heard that he was your boyfriend. Have you guys been spending time together?'' Shuri asked curiously, ''He has been avoiding me ever since we got here.'' she looked over her shoulder to see his small house, his light was on and she could see his shadow. Shuri gazed at where Y/N was looking, ''It's must be killing you, I'm sorry I didn't want to upset you.'' she shrugged her shoulders. ''It's okay Shuri, I just... I don't even know what I want. Sometimes I want him to look at me like the way he used to but sometimes I don't want him to remember anything about us.'' It was a confession night for Y/N, it was nice to have a female friend who listened. ''Why?'' 

A soft wind moved the skirts of her white dress, ''It's gonna break him to know that he spent his entire life away from me, away from the love of his life, yeah he told me that himself after beating a dude just because he looked at me more than 5 seconds.'' she smiled at the lost memory. Shuri was shocked, ''Wow! I'm impressed sis.'' she didn't want to spy on her anymore so she stood up, ''Why are they calling him The White Wolf?''  Y/N asked standing up, everyday she heard Wakandans call him that. ''Because he is white and he is strong like a wolf.'' It made sense now, ''Good night Shuri.'' As she watched Shuri leave she saw Bucky standing on his treshold and watching them silently, Y/N hesitantly took a step towards his house but he slithered back in. It broke Y/N's heart but she knew he needed time and space to come around. 

Next morning Y/N woke up to the children's laughter, it was sunny outside. She dragged herself off of her bed and walked outside to see, the scene before her eyes surprised her. Bucky was playing with the kids around him, putting one on his shoulders with his one hand, and he was doing it so effortlessly. She didn't want him to feel uncomfortable so she walked back inside to make herself breakfast, if she looked back she could see him watching her walk inside, his smile faded away. ''Did I want her to see me like this?''

Bucky was avoiding her for days now, it was because he was scared that any moment he could turn into The Winter Soldier and attack her again. He obviously didn't want to hurt her but watching her from a far made him realize that she was sad. He sometimes watched her gardening, talking to the locals and baking for kids. She always had a sincere smile on her face whenever she had a company, always treated them kindly. Their houses weren't far away so he could smell the delicious food she was cooking or he could hear her sweet laughter. He didn't hear her laughter that much but it was cute to hear every once in a while. Now he was on his bed, thinking about his life and the horrible things he had done, ''I deserve to be frozen again.'' he was deep in thoughts but he heard someone's footsteps coming towards his place. Super soldier serum gave him many  gifts and among them there was the gift of hearing things which most people are deaf to. His body tensed, whoever was coming stopped, took a few step back but came back. ''Bucky?'' He heard Y/N say, ''Bucky, are you awake?'' she sounded hesitant. He left his messy bed and opened the thick curtain which was used as a door. She was standing in her purple dress, her Y/H/C looked and smelled fresh, like sweet fruits. She had no shoes, they were mostly walking barefoot all day in Wakanda. She noticed he didn't say anything so she spoke trying to not look at his broad shoulders, ''I made mashed potatos and meatloaf, you used to love them.. and yeah, if you are hungry you should come.'' she tried to sound normal, Bucky was surprised because he didn't expect her to invite him for dinner. As he was standing there, looking into her Y/E/C eyes he noticed how the moonlight highlighted her face, revealing the sadness there, she thought maybe he wasn't in the mood so she walked back to her garden. ''Why didn't I say anything?!'' Bucky got angry at himself and followed her steps, she heard him following and tried to hide her smile. 

Y/N brought everything to the garden, it was really close to the river, she also had candles on the table. Bucky closed his eyes when he took the first bite and she heard him moan in pleasure and it brought back some naught memories, he opened his blue eyes to see her red cheeks. ''Guten Appatit.'' She said smiling, Bucky couldn't remember when was the last time someone prepared a homecooked meal for him, and he had to admit she was a great chef. ''I used to cook for you all the time James, even your mother used to get recipes from me.'' Y/N said, pouring a glass of wine for them, with the though of his family she noticed there was hurt in his eyes, ''Blue eyes, eyes that your mother had given you.'' she said calmly, ''I wonder what happened to my family.'' he confessed. Bucky spent his days thinking about his parents, his siblings, he would like to know how they died. ''I found their graves, but your baby sister is still alive, she is in a nursing home. She cried when she saw me and asked where were you.'' Bucky's shoulders dropped slowly, he took a deep breath, ''I would like to see her soon... before it's too late.'' he whispered more to himself.  Y/N held his hand gently, it was warm, ''You will, I promise.'' she had a loving, good heart and Bucky treasured such a rare character trait, he found himself lucky to be loved by someone like her, however that was decades ago, maybe she was just trying to be nice and help him, be his friend. ''I want her to love me again.'' it crossed his mind, but he didn't dare to say out loud. He ate like there was no tomorrow, ''Thank you again Y/N, you are a great cook.'' he winked at her and she felt the butterflies. 

''My pleasure, you can come and visit me any time you want Bucky because I have food and cookies everywhere.'' He remembered something, was silent for a second, ''We used to make cookies together right? I remember this smell and of course I made a huge mess on the kitchen,'' he kept thinking to remember the rest, ''it was before my army years, yeah? You had a blue dress and I touched your dress with my dirty hands. Do you remember?'' he was smiling ear to ear because it felt great to remember things on his own. ''Yes, it's right, I remember too.'' Moonlight made the tears look like diamonds, ''I didn't mean to upset you.'' Bucky said as soon as he saw the tears. ''No, I'm not upset, I'm just happy that you remembered.'' Bucky found himself holding her hand, ''Y/N,'' he began but as soon as he looked her in the eye he forgot what he was about to say. ''Yes Bucky?'' 

She tried to give him courage, he gave out a heavy breath. ''What I'm about to say will break her heart...''

''I should be frozen again.'' He finally said and watched her smile fade. ''Why? You said we have a month. Why are you doing this to me Bucky?'' She protested, she felt like she was so close and yet so far, Shuri was working on things to bring his memories back he couldn't give up now. ''I'm living with a fear of turning into my old self, The Winter Soldier. What if I hurt someone, what if I hurt you?''

''I trust you Bucky, with all my heart. Just wait for a month and if it doesn't work out I promise you I'll be the one to put you in cryo.'' Y/N said, even though she didn't like the idea she made a promise, but he had to try first.

What do you think of this chapter? Let a girl know ;)

Tag List; @jellyroom2​ @allonszassbutt​ @haynsey​ @toomuchbucky​ @putinovertime​ @marialopezzz0922​

Shattered Pieces

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Genre: Romance. Smut in the future. Angst.

Warnings: Y/N was almost attacked. 

Summary: Bucky and Y/N were in love back in the 40s but Hydra took Bucky away from Y/N. Y/N tried to find him but HYDRA stopped her and she paid a price. Now all they knew was Bucky was dead, however they were wrong. Can she face the new Bucky, the infamous Winter Soldier?

This story takes place in Captain America The Winter Soldier.This will be a short story. Sorry for any tyops. Likes and comments are welcomed in this house lol, stay safe my dudes!! Text me if I forgot to tag you <333

Tag List is open!!!!

Chapter 4

A month passed since the incident, Bucky was nowhere to be found and Steve gathered a team of talented people to chase him. Y/N was also a part of the team, Natasha wasn't included but before she left town she brought files on Bucky from Kiev. 

The Intelligence Community was helping the team as well, Y/N first tried Brooklyn, she thought maybe Bucky remembered and started with Brooklyn but it was a dead end, however, finally they got signals from Europe.  He was a well trained assassin and knew how to hide, everyday Y/N's hopes crashed but with the dawn of new day she dared to hope again. What happened to Bucky was a tragedy and she wanted to make things right, they were on SHIELD's chopper heading to Romania. Steve was giving orders as always, Y/N's mind was somewhere else, she wondered what their conversation would be if they saw each other again. ''Y/N?'' Steve called her name for the third time, ''Yeah?'' she said with a faint voice. ''We are landing.'' The inside was loud so they were talkinf through black headphones, ''Alright.''

Team was tired so Steve gave them onre day to recover, SHIELD took care of the hotel, it was an expensive one. Steve and Y/N's rooms were on the same floor, ''I'm gonna take a shower, you should eat without me.'' she said. She was tired, the dark circles under her eyes were the proof of how hard she was working to find Bucky, Steve felt sad everyday to see his friend like that. ''Y/N, try to get some sleep.'' He said and went into is room.

She walked inside and locked her door, dropped her bag and hit the shower. It was a long and hot one, after that she got dressed because she had plans of her own. It was still early to travel and go to the places they marked on the map to find Bucky. She wore a simple blue denim pants, a black sweater and a black hat. She had a grey backpack, she  gave her tired self a look on the tall mirror before she left, ''God I look tired!'' they were in the capital city of Romania, which was Bucharest. The spies of SHIELD gave them few addresses of sububrs, dangerous places. ''If I were Bucky which place I would choose?'' Y/N thought, she was on a taxi and had a map on her lap. ''I would choose a crowded place to blend in, maybe an apartment building. Windows would be covered.'' 

She gave an address to the driver, she was watching the city through the dirty window, people minding their own business, everything seemed normal but nothing about her life was normal. The sun was setting and leaving an orangy red colour on the deep blue clouds, as she left the taxi she tipped the driver and kindly smiled at him, he was an old man with a deep accent. ''Sweet girl,'' he said, ''be careful around here.'' he was right the place looked shady. 

She watched the car leave, kids were playing together, throwing balls at each other, she was few women with bags, entering a tall apartment building. She sat on a bank near a big tree, trying to decide what she should do first. The last time she tracked Bucky she ended up being the toy of Hydra, she pushed the unwanted memories away. She opened her backpack and pulled a picture of Bucky, ''I have nothing to lose.''

For hours she asked people if they knew the man in the picture, some couldn't speak English, the ones that did couldn't help her. Now it was late night, children were already gone home, only stray dogs, and cats were out. She inhaled deeply, ''I knew it! I won't be able to find him on my own.'' she hated herself, if it was the other way around Bucky would've found her weeks ago. 

She gave a last look and put the picture back, as she was walking and looking around she decided to walk pass the tall apartment, the alley was dark. She was having a really shitty they and the last thing she wanted was some boys to chase her but here they were. 3 boys were sitting at the corner of a building but when they saw her they started to call out for her, she couldn't understand Romanian so she kept on walking, however the boys seemed interested. ''Nu vorbesc românește.'' She said which was the only sentence she knew in Romanian, it meant ''I don't speak any Romanian.'' but the boys started to laugh.  One of them was smoking and he threw the cigar on the ground, got close to Y/N. Y/N blocked his hand with hers, ''Leave and no one gets hurt!'' she yelled. 

She wanted to be heard by anyone but there was no one, or so she thought. She kicked the one close to her, he fell on his back. Other two pulled out their knives but something stopped them. They were looking at something behind her, they stood still for a second and helped their friend who was holding his crotch and struggling on the cold ground. Together they ran. She turned to see what was behind her and and saw him. Bucky was standing tall and looking at her.

''I told you to not come after me.'' He said annoyed, his ocean eyes regarded her with a strange calmness, she cleared her throat before she found herself lost in them, ''And I told you that I'll find you wherever you go.'' she snapped back. After leaving America Bucky did reaserch and collected pictures of her and Steve but he still didn't remember what she was to him before. ''Where do you live?'' Y/N asked, simply trying to strike a convo. ''You should leave. It's not safe out here.'' Bucky said and Y/N could swear that he was concerned for her safety and she smiled. He didn't wait for her reply and turned to leave but she spoke quickly, ''I can help you remember who you once were.'' He stopped in his tracks, she could see he was having doubts. ''Take me to your place and I will tell you everything. I know you want to know.'' She was silently praying that he would say yes, he turned back. Held her arm thightly, ‘’Follow me.’’ and he took her to his place.

His place was small, windows were covered with newspapers as she expected, dirty dishes were in the sink. Kitchen and the livingroom were connected, the source of light was a white light bulb, there wasn't a bedroom, his livingroom was also where he slept. As he closed the door she was standing, not knowing where to go. There was a brown couch with two pillows, they looked old, the walls were red and the rest were light green. He locked the door, she could see that he was trying hard not to look at her but why? ''May I sit here?'' She asked carefully, he simply nodded so she just sat. ''Nice place.'' Y/N tried to think of something and she cursed at herself for feeling like a school girl in front of him, ''After all these years do I still love him?'' he gave out a sarcastic laugh. She rolled her eyes which caught his attention, ''Why didn't you kill me in my house? Or that bridge? You could've easily ripped my head off but you didn't.'' she finally spoke after the silence. Bucky sat on his messy bed, got rid of his black jacket and hat. ''I wasn't sent to kill you, Pierce sent me to give you a message, but you attacked me, and then-'' he stopped, looked her in the eye. ''I remembered something, a memory. It made me stop chocking you to death.'' He was trying to be careful she could see that, ''What was it?''

''Do you really have to know doll?'' there he was, the Bucky that stole her heart 70+ years ago, it made her body completely warm to see that he was becoming more himself, ''I'm a curious gal, Sergeant.'' she slightly flirted, crossed her legs and took off her hat and jacket like he did. ''Okay... as I was chocking you with my metal arm on your kitchen island, I remembered a time where we,'' he cleared his throat, ''Having sex on a bed, I was chocking you and you were calling my name.'' he finally said it. His cheeks got pink, Y/N didn't expect that answer, her mouth was faintly open, ''Well, yes we used to do that sometimes.'' she wanted to punch herself for saying that. ''Why am I like this?'' Bucky's cheeks were red now, he looked at her entire body, a thought of how small she would be under him crossed his mind and that sent familiar signals to his body, he also had other steamy memories ever since he escaped spent his time by himself. ''You said you will tell me everything, I'm listening.'' Bucky said, he desperately wanted to know, ''What do you want to know? Steve? Me? or what kind of an asshole you were?'' Y/N couldn't help herself, she thouhght he would be offended by her remark but she caught a grin on his smooth looking lips,

 ''I forgot how they felt.'' 

he acted like he was in deep thought, ''I know that Steve Rogers was my childhood friend, I remember some stupid stuff we did back in the day, I want to know you. Who you were to me? How did we meet? What was I to you?'' His voice broke at the end, some light left his ocean eyes, Y/N wanted to hold him right there and never let him go but she knew it would freak him out, she had to tell the story first.

She took a deep breath, laid her back on the not so comfortable couch, ''I was Steve's friend and one day he introduced you to me. You were 19 and I was 15, it was the summer of 1936...''

Do you like the chapter? Lemme know ;)

Tag List: @jellyroom2​ @allonszassbutt​ @haynsey​ @toomuchbucky​ @putinovertime​ @marialopezzz0922​

Shattered Pieces

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Genre: Romance. Smut in the future. Angst.

Warnings: None.

Summary: Bucky and Y/N were in love back in the 40s but Hydra took Bucky away from Y/N. Y/N tried to find him but HYDRA stopped her and she paid a price. Now all they knew was Bucky was dead, however they were wrong. Can she face the new Bucky, the infamous Winter Soldier?

This story takes place in Captain America The Winter Soldier.This will be a short story. Sorry for any tyops. Likes and comments are welcomed in this house lol, stay safe my dudes!! Text me if I forgot to tag you <333

Tag List is open!!!!!

Chapter 3

They finally found her, she wasn't scared, she had nothing to lose because they already took everything from her. She took a pic of the letter from HYDRA and sent it to Nat and Steve. Steve called her from an unknown number, ''SHIELD started a man hunt for us, we can't ask their help. Come to the address I sent you. We made a plan.'' They couldn't talk the details over the phone so she left quickly. It was morning and the streets were getting crowded, Y/N parked her car somewhere and walked to the address. It was a regular American house, a black man opened the door, ''Were you followed?'' he asked leading her to the living room. ''No, I'm sure.'' She walked in and saw Steve and Natasha talking. ''Y/N what happened to you?'' She had a hand print on her neck and bruises on her face, the thing was that she couldn't use her healing powers on herself. ''You are not gonna like this, Winter Soldier was at my house.'' She told them everything, tall black man brought some ice for her, ''I'm Sam, Sam Wilson.'' they were using Sam's house to lay low, SHIELD was dirty and had HYDRA people in it. Steve told Y/N about Dr. Zola and his algorithm. Their plan was to kidnap SHIELD's officer in broad daylight. Sam offered his help, he was a pararescue in the army and he was the only one who could fly that metal wings. ''I can't ask you to do this Sam. You got out for a good reason.''  Steve as always didn't want anyone to get hurt. ''Captain America needs my help, there is no better reason to get back.'' Sam replied confidently, he was a nice man. ''I can help too.'' Y/N said Nat looked at her bruised face, ''If the Winter Soldier sees you again he'll kill you. Y/N.'' Natasha and Y/N became good friends over the year, Nat wasn't the warm one but she cared for the people she considered family. ''She can be the sniper to threaten officer Jasper Sitwell.'' Sam suggested, ''Alright.'' Steve said and they left the house together.

Thankfully Jasper Sitwell didn't disobey and told everything to Steve, Zola's Algorithm was designed to kill millions of people who were a threat to HYDRA, they put Jasper in a car, there wasn't enough room so Y/N got her own car, she was following them, on her right she had her sniper gun, Barrett M82 rifle. Out of nowhere the Winter Soldier showed up and blew her tires which caused her to crash her car, she hit hear head on the wheel, she had a head injury since she couldn't use her healing power on herself she blacked out.

Y/N woke up on a unfamiliar bed, ''Where am I?'' her head was hurting, she tried to get up, metal door was wide up. ''Hey there!'' She heard Steve, he was standing on the treshold. ''What happened?'' She sat on the bed and Steve came to sit with her. Y/N saw a water bottle on a wooden nightsand, ''You should drink your water first, we need to talk.'' Steve looked worried, ''Tell me.''  

 ''You hit your head and blacked out. Me, Nat and Sam fought Winter Soldier and his men. Y/N... I don't know how to say this but Bucky is alive.'' she dropped the bottle, water spilled on the floor. ''He is the Winter Soldier. Dr. Zola must have played with his mind, turned him into a killing machine. SHIELD caught us but Maria Hill helped us escape. This is Nick Fury's hide-out. Nick is also alive, he asked if you can heal him and Romanoff.'' Y/N couldn't believe him, her hands tightened into fists, ''He is alive... and he tried to kill me in my home, and on that bridge.'' her voice was a whisper, she was talking to herself but Steve heard clearly. ''Let's go to the meeting room, Nick came up with a plan.'' Steve helped her get up, he could see how confused and sad she was. They walked a long hall and entered a big room. Nick was sitting at the end of the table, Nat was close to him, she was holding her shoulder and she looked in pain. ''Let me help you.'' Y/N said and placed her hand on Nat's shoulder and few seconds later she was fine. ''Need my help Fury?'' He was a man who didn't like getting help but he was in pain. ''Only internal damage we don't have much time.'' Fury said, Y/N healde his internal pain.

The Winter Soldier was sitting on a chair, a man in a white suit was fixing the damage on his metal arm. There were machines around him, with the sudden thought of that girl he pushed the man away. All guards pointed their guns at him but he didn't care, they were in a bank's secret underground room. Alexander Pierce came with his men, ''Mission report.'' he ordered but Winter Soldier was too busy thinking of what happened today, the blond man called him ''Bucky'' , ''Mission report!'' Pierce's voice was coming from a distance, he remembered the girl, he made her crush her car. He started to remember things but Pierce didn't have time so he slapped him. ''The man on the bridge, I knew him. The woman you sent me after, I knew her too. Who are they?'' He asked confused, ''Your work has been a gift to mankind, you shaped the century. I need you to do it one more time.'' Alexander Pierce didn't answer his question. ''But I knew them.'' He insisted, his vision got blurry, a warm tear draw a straight line on his cheek, all he felt was pain, ''Wipe him and start over.'' Alexander said coldly, now Winter Soldier was pushed back on his chair, they put a machine on his head and started the process.

Nick Fury was holding a picture of Pierce when he was young, ''This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize, he said peace wasn't an achievement, it was a responsibility.'' he threw the paper on the table, ''See, stuff like that gives me trust issues.''Alexander Pierce and Nick were friends back in the day. ''We have to stop the launch.'' Natasha Romanoff said as always down to business. Now Nick and Captain America were arguing, and Steve brought the situation with Bucky, Y/N's heart sank to her chest. ''Look, I didn't know about Barnes.'' Nick replied, trying to calm Steve, ''Even if you had known.. would you told me? Would you even care to tell it to us?'' eyes were on Y/N, most of them didn't know the love affair Y/N and Bucky had, but she told Nat a year ago.

Next morning they all dressed up, Steve stole his old uniform from the museum, Sam was give a pair of wings, Natasha had a high-tech shapeshifting device. Y/N and Maria had agent uniforms, Steve and Sam were fighting in the field, Y/N was covering Maria because she took over the computers. 2 flashdrivers were inserted ,nto 2 helicarries, ''Two down one to go.''  Y/N said to Cap through the device on their ears, but the Winter Soldier showed up, he was expected to. He broke Sam's wings, Y/N was helping Maria and she heard Steve talking to bucky, ''People are gonna die Buck, I can't let that happen.'' Last night Y/N looked to the stars and made a promise, after this if Bucky was still alive she was going to make him remember them. She knew in her heart that Bucky would never give up on her. ''Please don't make me do this.'' Steve said desperately.

      Finally they took down the Zola's Algorithm but the helicarrie which Steve and Bucky were in under attack and they were going to crash to the lake. ''I'm going to the lake Maria, don't come after me!'' Y/N had hope that they were still alive, she couldn't handle losing them again, she reloaded her guns and took off. When she arrived she couldn't believe her eyes, Bucky was alive and he was dragging Steve out of the water, he saw her standing. ''You saved him.'' Y/N said smiling, strand of thick black hair, still wet fell across his deep blue eyes. He dropped Steve, Y/N slowly got close to him. ''Do you remember me Buck?'' She asked daring to hope, ''You are the woman I delivered a letter.'' he replied like he was reporting a mission. ''I'm more than that. You saved Steve because you know who he is, he is your bestfriend. At my house you didn't kill me because you remembered who I am.'' now she was right in front of him. She reached to cup his wet cheeks, it was something she missed, ''Please say something.'' he didn't know what to do or to say, a beautiful woman was crying and begging for him to speak. He held her hands, looked into her eyes, he felt a warm thing spreading in his chest. ''All I know is that you are someone I used to know. I need time to remember who I am, don't follow me. I'm no good for you.'' He said and turned to leave, Y/N held his arm, it was the flesh one and after all these years it felt good to feel his warm skin. ''It doesn't matter where you go Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, I will always find you.''

What do you think of the chapter? Lemme know ;)

Tag List; @jellyroom2​ @allonszassbutt​ @haynsey​ @toomuchbucky​ @putinovertime​ @marialopezzz0922​

Shattered Pieces

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Genre: Romance. Smut in the future. Angst.

Warnings: Mention of smut. +18. Fighting. Y/N is attacked. 

Summary: Bucky and Y/N were in love back in the 40s but Hydra took Bucky away from Y/N. Y/N tried to find him but HYDRA stopped her and she paid a price. Now all they knew was Bucky was dead, however they were wrong. Can she face the new Bucky, the infamous Winter Soldier?

This story takes place in Captain America The Winter Soldier.This will be a short story. Sorry for any tyops. Likes and comments are welcomed in this house lol, stay safe my dudes!! Text me if I forgot to tag you <333

Tag List is open!!!!!

Chapter 2

Throughout her day she didn't do much, took out the trash, cooked, read and listened some music from her time. It made her calm to listen to those songs, when it got late she got a call from Steve, ''SHIELD is compromised, Nick got attacked under my roof by an assassin. We are at the hospital right now, I followed the assassin but he got away.'' he explained everything quickly, ''I'm on my way.'' she grabbed her keys and left her house, there it was, the uneasy feeling again. Before she opened her volkswagen beetle's door she looked around. All she could hear was the sound of fireflies, some music coming from far away and she was the shadowy figure behind the tree again. She wasn't imagining this time, the figure was there and looking at her, not moving a muscle. She acted like she didn't see anything and got into her car, her hands were shaking. ''Just drive. Fast!'' Steve greeted her and took her to a room where Natasha and Agent Maria Hill were standing behind a big glass window, watching doctors trying to save Nick Fury. Nat hugged Y/N tightly, ''How is he?'' she asked. ''Bad, really bad.'' 

''Tell me about the shooter.'' Nat said to Steve, Y/N was behind them. ''He is fast and strong, he has a metal arm.'' Steve replied, ''Balistics?'' she asked to Maria, ''3 Slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable.'' Maria replied, eyes on Nick. ''Soviet made.'' Nat said like she remembered something. Doctors and nurses started to hury inside but Nick Fury died. Y/N started to cry silently, Nat was trying to hold her tears, Y/N left the room and sat in front of a vending machine. Nat and Steve left the room, SHIELD wanted Captain America so he left and Nat sat next to Y/N. ''What are we gonna do?'' Y/N asked, her voice was a whisper, ''I don't know.''Nat went to the vending machine and bought a lot of gum, Y/N didn't understand until a flashdrive fell behind the gums. ''What is it?'' she asked looking at Nat, ''Nick gave it to Steve but why? I guess we'll find out soon.''

Nat was right, soon Steve came back to the hospital, he had a hoodie, he was acting like he didn't want to be recognized. He pushed the girls into a room and pinned Natasha against a wall. ''Where is it?'' he questioned, ''Safe.'' Nat replied, ''It better.'' Steve was angry. ''Where did you get it? I'm sure Fury gave it to you but why?'' Y/N was watching them argue, ''I know who killed Fury.'' Natasha said which made Y/N get close to them. ''Most of the Intelligence Community doesn't believe he exists, the ones that do call him The Winter Soldier. He is credited with over two dozen assassinations over the last 50 years.'' Nat said looking at them, ''So he is a ghost story?'' Y/N asked. ''5 years ago I was escorting a nuclear engineer, we lost control and went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there, I was covering my engineer so he shot him straight through me. Soviet slug, no rifling.'' Nat explained and showed her scar on her belly. ''Guys, I don't want to alarm you but last night I thought I saw someone behind the trees watching my house, today as I was getting into my car I saw him again. Could it be the Winter Soldier?'' Y/N told them silently, Steve could see how worried she was, ''Maybe. Let's find out what the ghost wants. Y/N you go back to your house and lock the doors. It would attract attention if 3 of us dissapeared.'' Y/N didn't want to attract attention so she agreed, as she was leaving Steve hold her arm, ''Be safe. I'll call you soon.'' Y/N gave him a small smile and left the hospital.

 After taking down Nick Fury, Bucky's next mission was to send a message to a woman. Alexander Pierce ordered him to watch Y/N Y/L/N for days and see what she was up to. Bucky watched at a distance, she usually hang out at her place and sometimes she went out for shopping, she seemed really into gardening too. Pierce gave him an envelope to give her and he was at her house, sitting in the kitchen. It was strange because her scent was everywhere and it triggered something in him, like he knew this smell from somewhere. He heared her park her car and walk to the porch, she got inside and locked the door. She turned on all the lights and walked to the kitchen and saw a man sitting on a chair. Y/N froze for a second, he had a metal arm just like Steve said, ''The Winter Soldier...'' she whispered. She remembered there was a gun under her sink and she grabbed it, Winter Soldier was quick, he was pointing a gun at her. ''What do you want?!'' Y/N asked, he had a black solider gear, a black metal mask which covered his entire face except his piercing blue eyes. His hair was long and dark, he showed her the the envolope on the table. She slowly got close and took it, it said nothing on the outside, ''Who sent this?'' she asked. ''Hail Hydra!'' The man replied, Y/N had enough with Hydra and it's bullshit and she snapped, she started to shoot at him and took cover behind the kitchen island. Winter Soldier blocked the bullets with his metal arm, and he started to walk towards her. She was all out, threw the gun to her side and attacked him. Punched him several times but he was protected by the black mask he had on, he grabbed her wrist, turned her around, now her back was pressed to his hard chest. Y/N swang her left leg and hit his head, he backed away, however it's wasn't hard enough to knock him unconscious. He attacked back, she blocked his heavy metal punch which almost landed on her stomach, unfortunately she was out of practice, it had been a while since she had a close combat so the Winter Soldier took advantage of that and grabbed her by the throat. Y/N hooked her legs around his waist and he pushed her on the kitchen island, everything fell to the ground, he wasn't squeezing to kill her but the pressure was too much for her. Winter Soldier remembered his mission, it was only giving the letter and leaving but this one was a fighter. ''Don't kill her.'' Pierce told him specifically. Y/N held his cold silver arm with both hands, she was trying hard to get away, for a second something happened to him. A distant memory came to his mind like a strike of lightning; He was in a bed, covered in sweat and under him there was a beautiful girl, they were moving in a slow rhythm, his hand were on her throat, squeezing carefully and she was enjoying it. Her head went back to the pillow, and Bucky bit her chin, when she looked back at him with Y/E/C eyes he realized the girl had the same face with the one he was fighting right now. 

His grip loosened and Y/N got away coughing hard. ''Who is she?'' 

She paced away from him, he was just standing there, looked like he was in shock. ''Leave my house or I'll kill you!'' Y/N managed to say and sat on a chair close to her. He was still trying to understand but the only thing he knew was that he didn't want to hurt her anymore, so he left silently from the kitchen door. Y/N was shaking, she had to admit she missed the thrill of a fight, she picked up the envelope which was on the floor among discarded breakfast cereal.

             ''Join us when you still can. We know where you live, don't try to hide because we'll find you. Join the wining side. Hail Hydra!''

XXX

‘‘Do you like the chapter?’‘

‘‘Do you think Y/N will remember Bucky?’‘

‘‘Do you think Bucky will remember Y/N?’‘

Tag List; @jellyroom2​ @allonszassbutt​ @haynsey​ @toomuchbucky​ @putinovertime​ @marialopezzz0922​

Shattered Pieces

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Genre: Romance. Smut in the future. Angst.

Warnings: None.

Summary: Bucky and Y/N were in love back in the 40s but Hydra took Bucky away from Y/N. Y/N tried to find him but HYDRA stopped her and she paid a price. Now all they knew was Bucky was dead, however they were wrong. Can she face the new Bucky, the infamous Winter Soldier?

This story takes place in Captain America The Winter Soldier.

This will be a short story. Sorry for any tyops. Likes and comments are welcomed in this house lol, stay safe my dudes!! 

Tag List is open!!!!!

Chapter 1

Y/N was at Steve's house for dinner, ''I missed this.'' he said finishing his plate. Y/N used to cook for Steve and Bucky back in the day, before all of this happened. ''You are welcom Cap.'' Together day washed the dishes in silence, bot of them wanted to speak but the heavy burden of years were holding them back. ''When will you tell me what happened to you?'' Finally Steve Rogers asked, it had been a year since they were reunited and Y/N kept avoiding the question. ''I'm gonna need a something strong for that.'' Y/N cleaned her hands, Steve had a bottle of whiskey, he poured a glass for her, ''I'm listening.'' he said with sad blue eyes. He already read the files on her, Nick Fury gave them to him but he wanted to hear the story from her. Y/N settled on the single couch, ''After you crashed into the ice and Bucky fell from the train Peggy and Howard found me.'' she took a sip from her drink, ''Howard said he was searching for you but the technology at the time wasn't sufficient. They were building SHIELD and asked if I wanted to help, after all I was the friend of Captain America and the girlfriend of Sergeant Barnes. Peggy said they didn't believe Bucky was dead, they couldn't find his body and feared HYDRA might kidnapped him. The possibility of him alive was enough for me, after 5 months of training in the SHIELD I got myself into HYDRA, it was desperate times, they lost a lot of staff members so they hired me. '' Steve was patiently listening his friend's stroy, ''At first I was the coffee girl but I did prove myself and became the secretary of a General, the General was friends with Dr. Arnim Zola, over the year I got close to him and helped him when needed. Long story short, they caught me while searching files on Bucky. All the files  said ''Died on heavy experiment.'' , they tortured me for any info but I played the dumb girl and they bought it. They used me for experiments, they were able to stop aging but I was under a lot of pain. I guess that wasn't enough for them because they gave me healing powers.'' she finished her drink, eyes clouded with sadness.

''How did you escape?'' Steve asked giving her the bottle, ''They knew I would try to do something so Dr. Zola put me on ice, years later I woke up, they said the technology was at it's high position and wanted to improve my healing powers. Soon SHIELD attacked the building and I escaped. I knew I had to find you when I saw your face on New York Museum, and here we are. Nick asked me to join SHIELD again but I refused.'' Her story was over, Steve was blaming himself ''I'm sorry I wasn't there to save you.'' Y/N gave him a warm smile, he was still the old Steve, a kid from Brooklyn. ''Don't feel that way, it wasn't your fault. My only regret in this world is having a fight with Bucky before he left and never came back.'' She remembered that night, after the dance they were walking on the empty street.

(flashback)

''James please, don't go.'' Y/N said looking at his ocean eyes, ''Stay with me.'' he gave her a kiss. ''You know I can't do that doll, I'm a Sergeant now.'' Her eyes got watery, ''Why did you joined the army in the first place?! Why didn't you ask me first? You are so selfish!'' she tried to push him but failed. ''I can't sit on my ass and wait the war end while there are men out there trying to protect us!'' He yelled back. ''We couk've run away together, but you ruined everything! I check my mailbox everyday for a letter from you or waiting your captain's ''My Condolences'' letter! I can't sleep at night knowing that you are always in danger!'' she was crying now. ''This is the life I choose Y/N! Is it really that hard for you to see that this is what I want?! You can be selfish too sometimes!'' This was their loudest argument, Y/N's neighbor opened her window and yelled at them; ''Take your fight to your bedroom kids!'' Bucky gave a long breath, ''Sorry Mrs. Cooper, goodnight.'' he said calmly. ''Can we just enjoy our last night? I know you missed me, I missed you to. We should do what Mrs. Cooper said.'' His voice was low now, his eyes clouded with lust, pupils dilated. ''Maybe your army friends can help you Sergeant! I bid you good night.'' Y/N walked fast to her door and shut it harshly, she could hear him behind it, ''Don't be like that doll, please. I love you.'' 

(flashback ends)

''I'm sorry it ended this way, but I'm here for you. You can join us whenever you feel ready.'' Steve was trying to get her involved with SHIELD again because he saw they way she fight and heal. She had a talent, ''It's too soon for me, I can't.'' she finished the bottle on her own, ''I better get going, oh thanks for the gift.'' Steve got her a gramofon and records from the 30s and 40s, ''Don't mention it, goodnight.'' 

She was overwhelmed with memories and emotions as she left his house, SHIELD was kind enough to give her a home with a garden, she had nice neighbors and a calm street. It was late when she arrived, for some reason she had this uneasy gut feeling, until she reached to her door she kept looking over her shoulder. ''No one is following you. Relax.'' She unlocked her door, walked inside. As she was closing it she thought she saw a tall man standing behind the tress. It was like shadow and vanished quickly, ''I should get some sleep.'' she thought but as usual she locked every door and window, put her revolver under her pillow. Thanks to all that talk with Steve she saw Bucky in her dream, it was technically a memory, a happy one; 

They were eating their ice cream and enjoying the sunset, Bucky pushed her hair and placed a wet kiss on her neck. ''You should enjoy the view Sergeant.'' Y/N said not looking at him, ''I am.'' he said smiling. A soft wind touched their young body, ''Marry me.'' Bucky said suddenly, it made Y/N look at him in shock, ''WHAT?!'' she said loud, ''Marry me. I know it might be too early but when I come back from the amry we can have the wedding and in the mean time you can think about it. Come on doll, wouldn't you want to be the wife of a Sergeant?'' Ella Fitxgerald's I've Got a Feeling I'm Falling song was playing from a car's radio at a distance. ''Yes! God Yes!'' She jumped on his lap and they started to kiss deeply, but soon Bucky vanished and she was left in the dark, ''Bucky! Come back, Bucky!'' she woke up screaming his name. 

She checked her environment, she was at home in her bed, she touched her cold gun under her sweat covered pillow. For months she had no dreams of him so she felt strange, the soure pain in her stomach was back, it was yearning.