When You Just Finished One Of The Most Beautiful Fics Ever Written And You See That The Author Has A

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Here’s some frequently used HYBB tags:

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

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Meeting for the first time:

#meet cute

#meet awkward

#first meetings

Already met:

#established couple

#canon fic  or  #canon divergence

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Light and fun themes:

#rom com

#humor

#fluff

#love confessions

#domestic fluff

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Angsty themes:

#identity porn

#pining

#hurt comfort

#light angst

#angst with a happy ending

#angst with a hopeful ending  or  #hopeful ending

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

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Want to read less graphic themes? Check out:

#gen rated

#rated t

#implied bottom bucky

#implied sexual content

#rated m

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For smuttier themes check out:

#bottom bucky barnes

#sub bucky barnes

#power bottom bucky

#pwp

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-HYBB

i am joe

Check out my ongoing comic Crow Time. It has crows, and also neat pantheons of epic beasties.

I- this is the best thing I’ve ever read.

I LOVE what you wrote for the other ideas!!

This is kind of a dialogue prompt

Reader says something like, "do you know how many times I've imagined you fucking me on this desk?"

Maybe she's sitting on Bucky's lap while she works on a mission report or something for the team. Since Bucky hasn't seen reader in a bit, he is being needy and handsy trying to distract her. (Cue cockwarming?)

Eventually, reader slams the laptop shut and puts it away before she says that line. Bucky just like

Sweeps EVERYTHING off desk

(I'm so sorry for the long ask) much love❤️❤️

Not me answering this 2 years later but I'm weaaaak for the lip bite and this idea, immediate yes (and by immediate I mean I know I took forever, I'm so sorry, also I love you)

-

"I missed you so much baby" Bucky purred in your ear, hoisting you up by your hips to wrap your legs around his waist as soon as you stepped off the jet. You'd been gone for over a month in those 4 weeks, Bucky had been nothing but a pouty puppy, waiting for you to come back. None of the missions he went on were enough of a distraction, all he wanted was his perfect angel back in his arms and he finally had you.

"Missed you too, bub" You giggled at his scruffy beard tickling your neck as he nuzzled into your skin, carrying you off for some much needed cuddles. "I already showered and changed but I just have to finish my mission report and then I'm all yours"

You pecked the frown that made its way to his face, your thumb brushing over the crease between his brows.

"But I haven't seen you in so long" Bucky mumbled, reluctantly detouring away from your shared bedroom, taking you to the conference room instead.

"I promise I'll be quick-Bucky what are you-" You squeaked as you felt his cool arm effortlessly wrap around your waist, lifting you up so he could sit in the chair instead, plopping you onto his lap.

"I'll be patient" Bucky gave you an innocent shrug, not willing to wait for you to finish so he could spend time with you. You giggled at his clinginess, opening your laptop and pulling up the file you had to fill out; of course his patience lasts all of 10 seconds before his hands slowly slip under your shirt.

"Bucky, what are you doing"

"Nooothin'" he ignored the pointed look you gave him over your shoulder while he started to needily paw at your hips, slowly making his way up to your waist, caressing your skin. "Just feelin' you"

"I can see that" you shook your head, returning to your report, trying desperately to recall various details while your boyfriends hands continued to wander around. You could barely type out a sentence, squeaking when his cool metal fingers brushed near the top of your breast, tracing along the outline of your bra.

"Bucky"

"Y/n"

"You're distracting me"

"No, You're distracting me" He countered with another shrug, adjusting his hips, the movement causing you to shift right onto his-

"Bucky!"

"What" He gave you an innocent pout as if his thick erection wasn't about to pop out of his jeans.

"Your not so little friend there is about to stab my ass" You snoted, ignoring the way his hard length pressed against you made your stomach flip.

"Help him out then" Bucky smirked with a raise of his brow, "C'mon, it'll help me keep my hands to myself if he gets some attention"

"Bucky-

"Please baby, I promise I'll behave, just let me put it in you, I won't move, no more distractions, scouts honor"

"You're a little shit" You rolled your eyes, biting back a smirk as you got up to pull down your sweats while Bucky unbuttoned his jeans, pulling his cock out. He groaned as he swiped his thick cockhead through your folds, your slick already making a mess between your thighs.

"Looks like I wasn't the only distracted on, huh" He whispered against the shell of your head as he pressed inside, the both of you gasping at the feeling of him stretching you. He was careful to lower you slowly, inching his way until you were perfectly seated on his lap and entirely full of him. "Mpph, fuck you feel good baby, keep me nice and warm, that's it" He nipped on your earlobe while you took a moment to recompose, your tight walls fluttering against his shaft.

"I-have to finish this-" Your voice melted off into a moan, how were you going to get anything done, it had been so long since you'd felt your boyfriends fat cock absolutely rail you, making you cum and squirt till you nearly passed out, his length fucking your brains out until he was ready to fill you, his moans and grunts all just for you while his cock exploded with thick streams of cum that would drip out-

"You won't get anything done if you keep grinding on me princess" Bucky's strained, teasing voice broke you from your train of thought, not even realizing you'd been pushing your hips further back on him, trying to feel more. "You sure you gotta finish this right now?"

"Y-yes" You tried to fill out the next section, your eyes rolling back instead when Bucky adjusted himself, pushing himself till his tip kissed your cervix.

"You sure baby, I can make you feel really good"

"I-

"It's been so long angel, I need you, fuck, need you so bad" The neediness of his voice only set you off further, a gush of your arousal pooling out of you, getting the patch of curls at the base of his cock messy. It certainly wasn't missed by Bucky, his hands holding onto your hips so he could gently thrust his hips up just enough for you to feel the slightest movement. "Please baby, m'so hard, balls are fuckin' full, swear my cock's ready to burst there's so much cum for you-

All it took was you shutting your laptop for Bucky to swipe his arm and clear the table of its contents, bending you over the table while he was still deep inside you.

"Fuck, I needed this!" He growled, grabbing you hips and setting a brutal pace without warning, his head thrown back, the sounds of skin slapping on skin mixing with your moans.

"OH-FUCK-J-AMIE" You squealed feeling Bucky angle his hips to hit a spot that made a mess everywhere, your juices dripping onto his jeans, the material turning darker making him fuck you harder.

"That's it baby, make a mess on me, make a mess on my cock, give me what I've been missing so fuckin' bad"

You were nothing more than a babbling mess letting Bucky take what he needed, your legs nearly buckling from pleasure.

"Wanna see you" He pulled out and handled you with ease as he picked you up and placed you onto the table, throwing your pants off and tossing your legs over his shoulders. He didn't waste any time as he slipped in again, the both of you moaning and he started to move again, your tummy bulging each time he fucked into you. "Missed you so much angel, fuck you have no idea"

"Missed you-t-too" You hiccuped from a mixture of emotion and your building orgasm, a mix of everything making your vision blur with white spots and tears. "Missed you so much, Bucky"

"Cum for me angel, I want it, wanna feel my angel cum on my cock, please-" Bucky's pace stuttered as his cock squirted precum, his balls growing heavy, struggling to hold on, "m'gonna cum, can't hold it baby, give it to me"

"I-I-OH FUCK" You let out a silent scream as Bucky slipped his hand between your bodies, his thumb pressed onto your clit rubbing gentle circles. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, his own ready to shoot from the base of his cock, the tip already dribbling-

"Good girl, good fuckin' girl, so pretty when you cum for me baby, fuck me I won't last, shit-I-FUCKK" The first burst of cum flooded and painted your walls, his cock throbbing so hard it nearly sent you into a second climax, "Hng, it's so much, mmph"

Bucky clung onto you with his face buried into your neck, shuddering as his body shook from the waves of his orgasm. He held onto you, keeping you wrapped up as he sat back on the chair, his lips pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you"

"I love you too but I need to finish" You sleepily mumbled while Bucky shook his head, carrying you off for some much needed proper cuddles.

"You can finish later after we get some dinner in you and two more orgasms and a nice long shower, maybe a massage and THEN you can-"

"You filthy animals" Tony's voice cut through Bucky's list as he stood at the conference door with an amused smirk on his face.

"Oh my god" You kept your face buried in Bucky's neck, the oversized shirt you were wearing covering up what was going on but there was no mistaking what happened with Bucky's jeans around his ankles.

"Couldn't wait 10 minutes, huh"

"Would you?" Bucky didn't even bother arguing back, raising his brow with a smug smile.

"Can't argue with that" Tony nodded with approval, walking off while Bucky cackled without an ounce of shame.

"You little shit" You stayed pressed against his neck, while Bucky carried you off to your shared bedroom, plopping you onto the bed.

"Now about those two orgasms-"

perfect- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, wanda maximoff, natasha romanoff, steve rogers, bruce banner, sam wilson, etc. avengers except for thor because tbh i forgot him warnings: about: request! PF20 (too long hugs) + PF28 (person a lifting person b up out of excitement) + DF2 (“will you marry me?“) ! where in bucky and reader come from their anniversary dinner, and bucky brings her back to the avengers compound to relax and all. but little does reader know all the avengers are outside preparing the decoration and the garden for bucky to propose to her. then bucky proposes to her then all the avengers go out and congratulate them!

“y’know,” bucky starts, the rough of his voice softened as it always is with you, fond. he’s warm by all its definitions, heating you with his tender gaze as it falls along your features, fingers interlocked with yours, their tips rubbing sweet shapes into the dimples of your skin. “my ma woulda loved you. becca too.”

wobbly lips lift at their edges, your eyes glittering as they meet his profile. “you really think so?”

bucky nods definitively, a faint pull of his lips crinkling his eyes. “no question. becca would call you her sister and mean it by now.”

the little black box in his pocket with its fake velvet pricked and tattered with his anxious fingernails weighs heavier with the reminder of his family. he glances at your interlaced fingers, nearly able to see the ring his mother always wore--the one his father had saved up for for so long--on your own.

he feels the prickle of excitement in his chest at the prospect of his ring on your finger, suddenly unable to keep imagining and more desperate than ever for it to be real, for his thumb to run along your ring finger and bump into the ridges of the band. 

he squeezes your hand in his before he takes his fingers away, trailing them up, up, up until they loop around your wrist, pulling your hand to his chest.

“i planned one more thing for you,” he tells you, furtively sneaking a glimpse at his watch to catch the time. everything should be nearly ready by now, and his excitement tinges with nerves.

your features soften, bouncing on your heels at the revelation. “bucky,” you coo tenderly, pulling his hand along as you raise it to his chin. “this is too much. you know you’re all i need.”

he drops his lips to the back of your hand, dragging them along until they press a kiss to the side of your index. “you’re gonna love it, i promise.”

“i know i will, that’s not a doubt for me,” you reply, words melting away as you observe his face. “i love you.”

he’s never been more certain in anything as he tells you the words back, unable to help himself when he tugs you to him, lips finally meeting. you taste like honey and home, and suddenly bucky can’t wait anymore, pulling away even as every one of his cells begs him to continue kissing you forever. he nudges his nose against yours. “c’mon, i want to see your face when you see it,” he urges gently.

“‘kay,” you agree, letting him pull you along. “is this the surprise that natasha wouldn’t tell me about?”

“maybe.” his reply carries a lilt, hand squeezing yours.

“ooh, then it must be good. she had the little smile she has when it’s a nice surprise.” you shimmy your shoulders in excitement, urging him to move faster. “where are we going?”

“the compound,” bucky responds, jutting his chin in its direction. “figured you’d be tired after being pampered for so long. maybe we watch a movie and you fall asleep on my shoulder after i make you some cookies.”

you stop in your tracks and he stumbles into you, placing his hands on your arms. “bucky, you are incredible. just… fuck.” you stare at him for a moment, eyes wide, before your hands unravel from his grip, rising fast until they’re hot against his cheekbones, pulling his lips to his.

bucky hums against your lips in surprise, fingers twining down to vine around your hips.

“good idea then?” he murmurs against your lips, breathless with your intensity.

“can’t believe you’re mine idea,” you grin, pecking his lips one, two, three times. “let’s go,” you take his hand again, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “i wanna see your surprise, baby.”

he wants to drop to his knee right here and now and beg you to marry him, but you pull at his arm with a pretty pout, reminding him that you deserve perfect, and the closest thing to it waits in his surprise. 

it’s unusually quiet when bucky pushes the doors to the compound open to introduce the dark room, the general buzz of the avengers gone. you pause, sticking your head in to observe the darkness you only see when it’s really late. a glance at bucky’s watch tells you it’s not late enough. you pucker your lips in thought, turning to bucky.

“you got everyone out for the surprise?” you ask, the sight of his teeth digging into his bottom lip enough of an answer. “buck.” you say it long and breathy, disbelieving.

“only the best for my girl.” he winks, guiding you out of the doorway and toward the back. he doesn’t bother to turn on the light, and the gleam of the moon catches on the blue of his irises.

he’s nervous now. glittery static prickling his fingertips, climbing up until it reaches his cheekbones as he covertly glances out the window, catching the glimmer of fairy lights and a blink of a green eye, crinkled as it catches his. it disappears as soon as he sees it with a wink. he lets out a shaky breath, clearing his throat to steady it before he speaks. he slows when he reaches the doors to the garden, velvet curtains cloaking what is supposed to be the perfect setting of the most terrifying night of his life.

vibranium curls around the handle and his pulse quickens under your index.

“hey,” you call, squeezing his hand. “you okay?”

“yeah,” he assures, giving you a meaningful glance before turning the knob.

it’s beautiful as he pushes open the door, breath caught in his throat because it’s even better than he expected. but it’s natasha and wanda and sam and everyone who loves you, and he knows he shouldn’t be surprised. they love you almost as much as he does.

almost.

“oh my god,” you whisper from behind him, gazing at the garden in wonder, petal lips parted, arms limp at your sides. “it’s…” fingertips graze the yellow petals of tulips, gentle against white roses and speckled lilies. the twinkling lights reflect in your eyes. you let out a breath as a conclusion to your statement. “all this for me?”

“i told you,” bucky starts, meeting the vision you are; warm cheeks, grinning eyes, glossed lips pulled into the prettiest smile he’s ever seen. he remembers it from the first date he ever took you on--the brightest thing in the shitty forties themed diner you insisted on going to, caught around a striped straw inside a strawberry milkshake--in your room after the mission that left him in the medbay for a couple nights--vignetted with relief. “only the best for my girl.”

nose burning, eyes filling, you exhale something like a scoff, affectionate. sparkling eyes stare up at him, blinking fast.

“that is ridiculous,” you mutter, words tinged in incredulity and nectar. a tear streaks down your face, but your features are soft, kind.

bucky frowns. “what’s wrong?”

“i have never felt as loved as i do with you.” it’s light as you confess, true and sweet. “you make me feel so loved.”

bucky searches you, thumbs swiping away the tears that bubble down your cheeks. “that’s all i want. why are you crying, sweetheart?”

you sniffle, watery eyes desperate as they pull him in. “marry me, bucky.”

bucky freezes, caught in silence for a moment before his shoulders drop, the weight of the stress gone. “honey, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“what?” it’s dipped in confusion, fearful when he begins to chuckle.

he digs into his pockets, pulling the box out, dropping to a knee like he had been yearning to.

you gasp, lips behind your fingers. there’s rustling that neither of you notice.

“‘had this all planned out,” he starts, laughing tearfully. he pops open the little velvet box. “will you marry me?”

“i asked first,” you hiccup, but you’re dropping to his height too.

“yeah, i’ll marry you, doll. ‘f course i will.”

“me too,” you cry, falling into his arms, the ring forgotten as you kiss his face repeatedly. his arms wrap around you and don’t let go, squeezing you tightly. your arms loop around his neck, hanging on as he rises, lifting you up with him.

“ring,” he remembers, still aching to see it on your finger. he begrudgingly puts you back down on the ground, fumbling with the box to pull it out. your fingers are trembling as you hand them to him, breath getting caught in your throat when he slides it on.

“it’s your mom’s,” you notice, eyeing the deep color of the stone, the small steel hands holding it in place, molding into what looks like flower vines with smaller stones until they’re the other hand. “but it’s different.”

“i wanted it to be perfect for you,” bucky explains, tinted with anxiety. “you like it?”

“it’s perfect,” you confirm, a hand rising to his jaw so you can kiss him again. “everything is perfect.”

excited din finally escapes from the green and the avengers follow, stepping out from behind trees and vines that crawled up to cover them. 

you gasp when you see them, rushing to meet your friends. bucky’s arm stays around your waist, he’s beaming, a grin splitting his face.

tony is out first, his face bright as he envelops you in a hug, whispering his congratulations into your hair. he settles bucky with a tentative smile and a firm nod. “i’m glad it was you, barnes.”

“me too,” bucky tells him.

bruce wraps you tightly in his embrace, before coming up to bucky. “the big guy and i know she can protect herself just fine, but…” he nudges his glasses up his nose. “i’m sure you know what i mean.”

clint drapes an arm around bucky and squeezes. “finally, huh?” he teases. “knew she’d ask you first, though. steve owes me twenty dollars.” you laugh, finding your way back into bucky’s chest again, nestled under his arm.

“you have no idea how hard it was to stay quiet,” wanda exclaims, grabbing your hands.

“i had to cover her mouth with my hand,” natasha adds.

“shut up, you were bouncing on your feet when she asked him to marry her,” wanda argues.

“oh, man, i can’t believe she beat you to it,” sam grins, clapping bucky on the back.

“me neither,” steve groans. “you cost me twenty bucks, punk.”

“sorry,” bucky says offhandedly, but he’s barely paying attention to their words, his focus unmoving on you.

you’re chatting happily with your friends, waving your hands as you speak, smile threatening to overtake your face.

it’s even better than he thought, the sight of his ring on your finger.

I cannot wait for the next part of this cause lawd my knees are shakin

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CsudqThAl9o/?igshid=MmJiY2I4NDBkZg==

Qb bucky is ready he just needs his assistant to accept her fate

Pairing: QB!Bucky x Grumpy!Assistant Reader

AN: Written on my phone.

Part of the QB Series.

Bucky looks at you, wide-eyed and hopeful as his teeth rake across his bottom lip. "So," the word is dragged out, your brow raises instinctively when he tapers off with a grin.

You tilt your head, gesturing for him to continue. You know what he's trying to ask but you've decided to be obtuse, forcing him to say the words aloud. Perhaps it's a little mean of you but it's so much fun to watch him squirm.

After a few long seconds, Bucky realizes you're not going to help him, his shoulders slump and his long fingers card a messy path through his soft, mussed locks. "It's for charity."

You shrug.

"I-it's for a children's charity," he implores, brows knitting in disconcernation.

Your eyes drop to your phone, a few taps on the screen and the sounds of your newest show fill the room.

Unperturbed, he continues. "I'll give you the money, all you have to do is bid on me."

You don't look up, instead you deliberately turn up the volume. His desperate huff does something to your chest but you choose to ignore it, the same way you're ignoring the six-foot-something quarterback sitting across from you.

"Okay, okay. Fine," he mutters under his breath. He's not above begging if thats what it takes. Bucky pushes his chair back and stands. He goes to you, turning your seat around, the legs scrape against the floor. Your phone is lifted from your hand, carefully placed on the table.

Bucky drops to his knees before you and he cants his head back so you have no choice but to gaze into his pretty blue eyes—you feel as if you just stepped off a cliff, the wind rushing up while your heart drops to your stomach.

"Please," he shamelessly pleads, his deep voice rolls down your spine, your attention torn between his face and his large hands gripping your thighs as he kneels between them.

Bucky repeats the word, whispering it so sweetly and urgently, willing to offer everything he has just to hear you say yes. Please say yes.

He needs you to win. If you don't, then all his plans are ruined. Bucky hasn't told you all the details of the auction, too wary to reveal what's in store for the winner of his particular date, he has this distinctive feeling that if you know exactly what you're in for that you won't even show up to the gala.

"Please. Please. I'll do anything you want. Just please don't let someone else win." I want to be yours.

The heat from his palms pierces through the thin layer of your shorts, sinking into your veins and settling into the depths of your chest. Your heart beats erratically as obscenely erotic images of his large hands on your body, touching every part of you and claiming you as his own flash in your mind.

"I'll think about it," you concede, trying to apparent unaffected by the massive man on his knees for you.

If he hears the breathy waver in your tone, sees the faint hint of excitement and nerves in your pretty eyes, he doesn't say anything. He could tease you about the way your thighs are trembling under his hold but he doesn't.

But after he wins, after you discover what he has planned for the two of you, he's going to show you how much fun begging and teasing can be.

It’s only not cheesy when it’s bucky

Stranded at Christmas

Avengers Bucky

A/N - I crammed as many "Christmas tropes" into this story as I could!!! This basically could be a Hallmark Christmas movie!! Enjoy!

Summary: You're stranded in a small town with Bucky over Christmas. What do you do?

Content warning: Language, grumpy x sunshine, one-bed trope, fluff to the fullest.

"So we're stranded here then?" you asked the phone you had a death grip on. 

"Pretty much" Steve's voice sounded from the other end. 

"No jets are available, and the weather is bad from here to where you are" 

Bucky let out a groan. 

"Just stay there and we'll come and get you when this is all over"

"How long do we have to stay here?" you asked looking out the car window. 

"Dunno. Storm is a big one. From the visibility and size of it, maybe not for three or four days" 

"What?" yelled Bucky over your shoulder. 

You cringed at his voice. 

"So we'll miss Christmas at the compound?" you asked. 

Steve let out a deep sigh. 

"It's looking like it, but it won't be so bad you guys. At least you have each other?" 

Steve tried to help but you let out a huff. 

"Fine" 

"Fine?" Bucky gasped. 

His stomach knotted with the information Steve was saying. He did not under any circumstance want to be stranded anywhere, especially with you, alone. 

"Well, what are we going to do? Fly home? In case you missed it you, and I both can't physically fly. Airports are closed, trains aren't running and I'm not driving another mile in this white out" you waved your hand out to the window of the car you were in. 

The streets were covered in snow and the wind was howling something fierce and travel was not advised. You had managed to find this small town on your way back to the compound and had to pull over to contact Steve to tell him about the weather.

Bucky was annoyed. All he wanted to do was get back to the compound, pour himself a drink, and sit in the dark. He hated surveillance missions with a passion of a thousand stampeding elephants and this one was long and boring, ending only a few hours ago. 

Bucky had to accompany you, the rookie, on your first surveillance mission and he wasn't happy about it. Well, he thought you were impressive, but he wasn't impressed he was out on a mission let alone it being so close to Christmas. A Christmas he was looking forward to for once in his life because of you. 

You were way to cheerful and polite for him, he wasn't sure how to handle you, but he secretly liked you. You seemed to be immune to his gruff and grumpy self and that only intrigued him further. Combine that with the training he did with you and now this mission, he was having a hard time staying away from you. 

He's just lucky you came across this small town on your way back instead of being stranded on the side of the road in a blizzard. The surveillance mission turned out to be a bust, you had to leave immediately, and Bucky was able to hot wire a car to get you out of there.

"Ok fine Steve. We'll check in with you in a day or so" you huffed out. 

"Good. There's an inn a few blocks from where you are." Steve's voice came through the phone. 

"Ok. We'll talk to you later Steve" Bucky nodded, and you ended the call. 

"May as well go to the inn" you said, putting the car in gear while it trudged through the snow, putting the failed mission behind you. 

It was two days until Christmas, so you decided to make the most of it. As Steve said, you were lucky you weren't alone as that would be so much worse since you love Christmas and everything the holiday has to offer. You were bummed you wouldn't be at the compound for your first Christmas there, but you sucked it up and decided to make the most of it, even if you were with the Grinch.

You stood outside the inn Steve mentioned and took it in. 

"Mistletoe Inn" you and Bucky both read out loud making you chuckle. 

There were Christmas lights of every colour on the outside of the building with two trees on either side of the front entrance. There were Santa's pasted on the windows with reindeer, sleighs, snowmen, and elves making it festive and fun. 

"This whole place gives me North Pole energy" you giggled, walking towards the door of the inn. 

Bucky grumbled something but followed. You checked in and were told it was the last room the inn had.

You walked up the stairs with Bucky following carrying the duffle bags before you stopped in front of a large wooden door that had a gold plate on it. 

"Kringle Suite" you read before you opened the door.

The room had dark green and red plaid wallpaper, a roaring fireplace, small brown love seat, a fluffy white rug that was in front of the fire, a large pine armoire, but the thing that stood out was a very large king-sized pine sleigh bed, right in the middle of the room. 

"Is there another bed?" asked Bucky. 

"I don't think so" you checked out the rest of the room. 

There was a large bathroom and closet, but no other bed.

"You can have the bed" Bucky grumbled while he tossed the duffle bags on the love seat. 

"Where are you going to sleep?" you put your hands on your hips and looked at him. 

He gestured to the floor, and you rolled your eyes. 

"You can sleep in the bed Bucky, we're both adults and this bed is huge." 

Bucky looked over at the bed. It did look comfy with the fluffy Christmas pillows and soft blankets. 

"Fine" he turned to unpack his bag. 

"What are we going to do then?" you flopped on the bed and put your hands up behind your head. 

"This" Bucky sat down on the love seat in front of the fire and watched it. 

You rolled your eyes at him. 

"I'm going to change and explore the town a little" 

"In this weather?" Bucky looked over at you. 

"Yeah? It's not that bad, the wind died down and I have my boots!" you smiled brightly at him. 

"Are you coming then?" you asked.

You changed out of your shoes and into your boots, flinging your coat on.

"Fine" Bucky grumbled, putting his boots on, and doing up his coat. 

He couldn't leave you to wander alone in an unfamiliar town even though he knows you can handle yourself. He'd never forgive himself if something happened to you.

You both walked out of the front entrance of the inn and wandered the town, looking at the different window displays. 

"This town really goes all out for Christmas" you noticed while looking through the window of a bakery. 

The window had all the treats presented, with a Christmas tree, complete with train, music, and lights. Your stomach rumbled. 

"Come on" you dragged Bucky inside. 

You looked at all the festive goodies on display and bought a small box of pastries to snack on. You continued on your way, looking at the businesses and came to the town square where a tall well lit Christmas tree stood like a large beacon welcoming visitors and townsfolk the holidays. You smiled to yourself, at the sight. On the other side of the tree, there was a decent sized hill that led to a pond with a skating trail. 

"We can go skating and sledding! Well, once they clear it again from the snow" you beamed. 

Bucky grumbled something about his back hurting, so you rolled your eyes at him. 

"Come on Bucky, we may as well have some fun while we're stuck here" you scolded him. 

He glared at the snow hill and the few kids who were brave enough to be out playing. The wind had died down considerably from earlier, so it was just a snowy day. 

"Come on!" you headed back to the inn with your box of treats and a grumbling Bucky behind you.

🎅🏻❄

"So" you eyed up the bed. 

Bucky was sitting in front of the fire, relaxing on the love seat. 

"What?" he looked over at you. 

You cleared your throat. This was awkward.

"What side do you want?" 

Bucky gave you a look. 

"Doesn't matter to me" he shrugged. 

You eyed up the bed and jumped in. 

"This one's mine then" you chuckled to yourself, trying to relieve some tension. 

"What do you want to do tomorrow, Bucky?" you asked from the bed. 

"Call Steve and get the hell out of here" he muttered. 

"Bucky, you heard Steve. We're stuck here for a few days. We may as well relax and enjoy ourselves. I saw there's a market downtown. There's skating, and sledding too." You reminded him. 

He didn't reply so you looked over at him. His deep blue eyes were focused on you. You blushed a little.

"I thought we could you know, do some of those things? We have nothing else to do" you quietly added. 

"Fine" Bucky sighed. 

You smiled at him. 

"Ok. After breakfast then, we'll explore. Goodnight, Bucky" you said, turning off the bedside lamp leaving him sitting on the love seat.

🎅🏻❄

You woke the following morning with a heavy feeling on your chest. 

What the hell? 

You opened your eyes and there was a black metal arm flung over your chest and a softly snoring Bucky at your side. 

Huh. He's a cuddler. 

This was new. You didn't hate it. 

You didn't peg Bucky for being a cuddler, but you weren't complaining. 

He must have creeped over to your side throughout the night. You listened to Bucky sleep for a little bit, giggling at his snores and movements. He wouldn't want to know he looked adorable all snuggled up, he'd be mortified you were watching him sleep. You didn't want to disturb him, so you gently moved his heavy arm to the side while you stretched then got out of bed to shower and get ready for the day.

"Come on, let's go" you grabbed his arm and escorted him out of the dining room after finishing breakfast. 

You came across the large Christmas tree in the main centre of town and saw the outdoor market set up. 

"Look" you ran to the booths to see what people were selling. 

Bucky trudged behind you and watched as you looked at everyone's wares and chatted with them. There was baking, knitting, crafts, and jewelry that sparkled in the mid morning sun. You were always so outgoing and friendly, Bucky admired that about you. He noticed you took a long look at a sparkly snowflake necklace from a booth but reluctantly put it back and smiled at the seller. 

You moved on to another booth when Bucky got an idea.

"Come on Bucky!" you dragged him to the freshly cleared ice-skating pond. 

"I can't skate" he frowned at the skate rental booth. 

"Neither can I!!" you chuckled. 

You got your skates and put them on at the benches that were set up. 

"Come on" you took Bucky's hand and walked him to the pond. 

The two of you looked like two newborn baby fawns with your awkward limbs flailing all over the place but you managed a lap around the pond. You did slightly better than Bucky who inched his way around the pond with wide eyes and his nose scrunched up in concentration, while kids weaved in and out of your path. You took Bucky's hand in yours and you could have sworn he blushed, but it must have been from the cold air while you made your way around the pond. 

"That was fun!" you huffed out while sitting down to take your skates off. 

"It was ok" Bucky shrugged while he tugged off his skates and changed into his boots. 

He smiled a little that he got to skate with you.

🎅🏻❄

"Sorry guys, roads are still closed, and the jets won't be available until the afternoon of Christmas Day, so I'm afraid you're stuck there for a little longer" came Steve's voice from the phone. 

You had him on speaker so both you and Bucky could hear. 

"That's fine Steve, thanks for checking in with us" 

"We'll celebrate Christmas when you guys get back"

"Promise me Sam won't eat all my cookies?" you asked, and Steve chuckled. 

"He's already in the emergency tins from the freezer" 

"Damn it Steve" you groaned. 

"Language!" both you and Bucky rolled your eyes at Steve.

Before you left for the mission, you baked your face off and filled three tins of baking and put another two in the large freezer knowing everyone likes your shortbread and gingerbread cookies. 

"I'll call you Christmas morning guys" Steve said before you said your goodbyes.

"So, tomorrow's Christmas Eve" you turned to look at Bucky. 

You were both sitting on the love seat in your suite. 

"Yeah" Bucky nodded. 

"I saw there was a Christmas Eve dance if you want to go?" you shrugged. 

Bucky thought about it. Did he want to go to a dance with you in an unfamiliar town? God no, but he didn't want you to go alone. 

"Fine"

You smiled brightly at him, making him feel melty on the inside. The longer you stayed in this town, the more he was falling for you. 

"I think we can find something to wear at the general store in town. I'll charge it to Tony's card" you jumped into the large bed. 

"Night Bucky" you turned over and pulled the covers up to your chin. 

"Night" he said from the love seat.

🎅🏻❄

You woke the following morning, which was Christmas Eve, with Bucky snuggled to your side. His arm wasn't over you, but he was right up against your back. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck making you shiver. You were sad you only had one more night with Bucky but were happy with knowing you'd be home the following day. Spending this time with Bucky has made the two of you closer, and his grumpiness seems to be fading with each day you're together. 

"Morning" you said as Bucky stirred slightly. You thought he stirred but his arm came out and gripped you close, pulling you to his large chest. 

"Oof" you said while he snuggled in further. 

You tensed up a little because you could feel every hard bit of Bucky against your body and, well, he was hard all over while you blushed your face off. It has been some time since you've been with someone, and this was making it difficult for you to concentrate. 

You don't think Bucky likes you, plus, this is kind of a normal thing with guys, right? 

You cringed a little with your lack of experience with men. If you were more experienced and bolder, perhaps you could have helped him with his "situation", but you just sunk a little deeper in the covers.

 You liked Bucky, but you were certain he wasn't interested in you. Right? 

"Bucky? We should get up; it's Christmas Eve and we need to get some clothes for tonight" you whispered. 

"Mmph" he mumbled into your back. 

You wiggled from his grasp and turned to your back. 

"Come on, breakfast is on" you poked his side before getting out of bed, grateful to put a little distance between the two of you.

You walked into the general store and immediately went to the ladies' clothing section while Bucky took off for the men's. You were searching the racks when you saw a simple short cranberry red dress with long-sleeves and a bit of beading detail on the neckline. It will be perfect you thought to yourself while bringing it to the change room. You tried it on, and it fit like a glove while you moved around in it. You changed back into your other clothes and wandered the store in search of Bucky.

Bucky ended up getting a dark grey dress shirt he could pair with his black jeans. You tried getting him to buy a suit jacket, but he wasn't having any part of it, so you gave up. In your eyes, he would look good wearing sweats and a t-shirt, but you wanted to dress up a little for the town's holiday party. 

Bucky wasn't one for dressing up and liked to keep his clothes simple and basic as he usually wore layers of shirts and hoodies. You made it back to the inn with your purchases when you saw a bunch of kids head to the large hill with their sleds in tow. 

"Bucky?"

"Yeah?" you walked up the stairs. 

"Can we go sledding?" 

You opened the door to your room and flung the bag on the love seat. Bucky scowled at it. He was much tidier than you as he carefully unpacked his shirt and hung it. 

"Fine" he rolled his eyes. 

You saw a message from Steve saying they have a jet confirmed for Christmas day in the afternoon, so you showed Bucky. You replied to Steve you would be waiting at the co-ordinates and to have a Merry Christmas before you changed into your sledding clothes.

You stood at the top of the hill holding onto a sled with Bucky at your side. 

"I don't know about this" he mumbled. 

Kids were laughing and joking with each other while they piled on their sleds and took off down the hill. 

"It'll be fun. Come on, you've jumped out of planes and everything. It's just a little hill and a piece of plastic" you tapped his arm.

"Here" you put the sled down and got on. 

"Sit behind me" you waved him over. 

He sat behind you, putting his legs on either side of your body so you were wrapped up in him. It felt nice before you grabbed the side of the sled and pushed yourselves down the hill. 

Bucky tightened his grip on your sides while the speed picked up, causing you to let out a squeal while you raced down the hill, giggling and laughing like the kids. 

"Oh my god!" Bucky yelled as you came to a stop in the deep snow at the bottom of the hill. 

You turned and looked at him and smiled. He was smiling brightly, and his cheeks were rosy from the air. 

"That was so much fun!" you giggled while flopping out of the sled. 

"Come on!" you waved at him, helping him up and running to the hill to go again.

You and Bucky went down the hill a few more times, each time faster than the other while you laughed and cheered. You hadn't had this much fun in a long time, and you were happy you were doing it with Bucky. You seemed to soften his gruff exterior and were glad he was loosening up. 

"One last time!" you called before flopping down on the sled. 

"Ok doll" Bucky said in your ear, making you shiver. 

He hugged you tight as you took off down the hill, giggling and yelling. The sled must have caught an edge as it tipped over when you got to the bottom, rolling to the side, dumping you and Bucky out of it. You laughed hard as you rolled into the freshly fallen snow as Bucky came to a rest on top of you. 

You both were laughing at your spill when you noticed Bucky stop. You stopped laughing and saw him stare into your eyes. His eyes were a bright blue as they scanned your face, settling on your lips. You were both breathing heavy, and Bucky's hand reached out and brushed some snow from your cheek. He looked between your lips and eyes and smiled. 

"Umm, we should...go..." you whispered. 

"Ok" Bucky said, getting off you. 

What the hell is happening? Bucky is your friend, right? 

You returned the sled and made your way back to the inn to get ready for the Christmas Dance.

🎅🏻❄

"Wow, you look...beautiful" Bucky whispered as he saw you walk out of the bathroom. 

"Yeah?" you did a little turn and smiled, pleased with your purchase. 

"You look good too" you pointed at Bucky's new shirt. 

He smiled and patted his chest proudly. 

"Here, I have something for you" Bucky reached into his duffle bag. 

"I was going to give this to you tomorrow, but I think you'd like it now" he handed you a small box. You took it and smiled. 

"Thank you, Bucky" 

You opened the box, and your breath hitched a little. It was the snowflake necklace you saw at the market. 

"But, how?" you smiled at it, taking it out of the box and holding it to the light watching it sparkle. 

Bucky shrugged 

"I have my ways" he smirked. 

"Here, let me help you" he pushed your hair aside and helped you put the necklace on. 

"It's lovely, thank you" you smiled at him in the reflection of the mirror. 

"Since we're giving gifts, here" you walked over to your bag and pulled out a wrapped box. 

"I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but...you can have it now" you blushed a little. 

Bucky took the box and opened it. He pulled out a dark brown leather journal that had his initials embossed in gold on it. 

"Wow Y/n, this is nice" he thumbed through the blank pages. 

You know he writes a lot in his journals and when you saw this at the market, you had to buy it. The worker at the front desk helped you co-ordinate getting his initials on it. 

"I thought you'd like it" 

He looked up at you and smiled wide. Bucky rarely offered smiles but when he did, they were amazing to see. 

"Come on" you held your hand out to him, and he took it.

You entered the community hall where the Christmas Eve Dance was being held. The room was spacious, and it was festively decorated with Christmas lights, red and green tablecloths, trees, and even fake snow. You grabbed a drink and stood off to the side, watching the locals and visitors mingle. 

"This is nice" you smiled at the crowd. 

Bucky nodded while he sipped his drink. The music played carols and there was even a small part where the local school sang a few songs. You watched the smiling parents take photos and videos of their kids. You sipped on your drink when you noticed Bucky put his down. He wiped his hand on his pants and turned to you. 

"Would you like to dance with me?" he asked. 

You looked at him and blushed. 

"I-I'd like that" 

Back at the compound, Tony had lots of parties and gatherings. You normally stayed off to the side, being a rookie and all and watched from the sidelines. Bucky was usually with Steve, but he was often at the back of the room, observing just like you.

You walked to the dancefloor and Bucky held you in his strong arms. No one in the town seemed to recognize you or notice Bucky's arm so you were glad about that. That was the last thing you needed was to have people surround you and ask questions you didn't know how to answer. 

"I like this song" you said as made your way throughout the dancefloor. 

Bucky dipped and turned you, making you laugh and giggle, it was the perfect distraction for not being at the compound for Christmas. He knew you were disappointed you would miss your first Christmas there, and he wanted this night to be special for you. The dance came to an end, so you made your way back to the inn for one final night.

You were getting ready for bed when you notice Bucky was already laying down. He had his hands above his head while he watched the ceiling. You got into the bed and let out a sigh. 

"Bucky?" 

"Yeah?" he turned to face you. 

"I'm glad you were here, with me, even though we were stranded" 

Bucky thought about it. 

He thought about spending time with you over the past few days, then the mission. 

"Me too" 

"Really?" 

"Yeah doll, really"

Thank god the lights were off so Bucky couldn't see your red face. 

"Oh, we HAVE to get the rest of the group together and go sledding" you giggled, and Bucky chuckled. 

"Whatever you want" he smiled. 

Bucky noticed you still had your necklace on as he reached over and played with it in his hand, toying with the chain and fiddling with the pendant. He did this and it sent shivers down your back. He moved a little closer to you and ran his thumb up to your cheek before he leaned in and softly placed a kiss on your lips. 

"Goodnight doll, Merry Christmas" he whispered. 

You were paralyzed. Bucky's kiss paralyzed you to the point where you couldn't move properly or talk so you just gave him a small nod. 

Yeah, this was the best Christmas ever, even if you weren't at the compound with the rest of your friends, this was so much better.

i can’t even oh my god 😫

An Experiment in Jealousy

Summary: You decided to try and make Bucky jealous. Now, you would pay the price.

Genre: Self-indulgent porn without plot tbh, lol

Warnings: slightly rough sex, dirty talk, slight!daddy kink, unprotected sex

Length: 2k

Bucky was the first man to ever make love to you. And boy, did he do everything right. He loved to pepper kisses all over your skin, worship your body, whisper I love yous and I'm so lucky to have yous against your mouth as he thrust into you slowly every night, eyes locked with yours as you both reached your climax.

Sometimes, less often, he would fuck you. When you had a fight and the inevitable make-up sex happened, or when you were just in one of those moods and ripped off his clothes with such ferocity that he just knew what you wanted, or when you told him outright that you wanted it fast and hard instead of gentle and slow.

Tonight, you knew what you wanted. You wanted him to use you, to own you.

And so you had spent the whole night flirting with Steve, playing it in such a way that just about bordered platonic without being too outrageous, but just enough to get Bucky ticking. This, coupled with how you had absolutely iced your boyfriend out all night and instead spoken to Steve with laser focus, would absolutely get you what you wanted. You were certain of it.

You watched Bucky from the other end of the bar to discreetly observe his reactions, his leather-gloved hand wrapped around a beer bottle, the other one lifting up to brush against his lightly stubbled jaw as he observed you. He took a sip of beer, his eyes piercing, and you could tell he was gently seething.

You suppressed a smile. Jackpot.

------ x ------

Bucky all but slammed you against the door of your shared apartment as soon as you had closed it, pressing up against you firmly as you gasped at his sudden movement. His hands framed either side of your head, body trapping you in place as you stared up at his icy blue eyes.

"Is that how you want to play, doll?" He murmured, gritting his teeth as your chest heaved against his.

"Bucky, please," you whimpered, not even pretending to be coy. You knew that he knew exactly what you were playing at, and now it was time to cash in.

"Please, what?" Bucky all but snarled, cocking his head to the side as you blinked at him.

"I need it. Need you."

"So desperate for my cock, are you? You want me to fuck you like the slut you are?" Bucky asked, eyes flickering down to your mouth.

His words sent delicious chills down your spine, arousal shooting straight to your core. Your hands grasped his leather jacket, moving to peel it off, but his hands were lightning. They wrapped themselves around your wrists and held them back against the door with a gentle thwack.

"No," he said sternly. "You need to be punished."

Your pussy was practically dripping. You were so wet that you were almost convinced he would be able to smell your arousal soaking through your panties.

"How are you going to punish me, daddy?" you asked in a faux-nervous voice, feeling his hard-on through his jeans already, heavy against your inner thigh. You knew he liked it when you called him that.

"On your knees," he said in his deep, authoritative voice, eyes daring you to object. His tone was void of his usual gentleness. Tonight, he meant business.

You sank down to the floor as he worked at his belt, unfastening the piece of leather and letting it snake to the floor.

"Take it out," he instructed.

You reached out and unzipped his jeans obediently, looking up at him with large, innocent eyes. You touched his bulge over his boxers as he sucked in a ragged breath, unable to hide the effect you had on him despite himself.

Tugging down the waistband of his underwear, his cock sprung free, thick and heavy and red, the velvety head waiting to be sheathed inside your mouth.

"Suck it and make daddy feel good," he commanded, his fingers lacing themselves through your hair.

You didn't need to be told twice. You opened your mouth and wasted no time in swallowing up his cock, his length barely fitting inside your mouth, but you tried your best. You relished the taste of him, the slightly salty tang of his pre-cum, urging yourself to take him deeper and farther down your throat no matter how your gag-reflex protested at the intrusion.

Your eyes teared up as he began to gently fuck your mouth, his hands tugging on your hair without the actual force to hurt you, but encouraging you to take more and more of him into your mouth.

"There's a good girl," he grunted, head rolling back in pleasure as you served him, your mouth forming a suction around his fat cock, your tongue gliding up the length of his dick as you released him with a pop.

Your eyes were wet as you dived in again to taste him, so addictive, enough to make you feel so fucking horny.

For a good five minutes, the only sounds filling the room were his dirty praises and the gargle of you choking on his cock. Eventually you couldn't hold in your needy whines any longer.

"Please, can you put it inside me?" you begged.

"Mmm. I don't know if you deserve it."

Panic flashed briefly within you. Bucky had been known to deny you of release before when you had been particularly naughty, and you mewled in protest. You didn't want to be teased tonight.

"Please, I'll be good. Need you inside me. Don't you want to come inside my tight pussy?" You knew exactly what words would make him attack you hungrily like predator on prey.

Bucky snarled and bent down to grasp your upper arms, jerking you upright to your feet. He shucked off his jeans which were still pooled around his ankles and picked you up with ease, bridal style, taking you to the bedroom. He tossed you onto your bed like you weighed nothing.

He shrugged off his jacket and tore his shirt off so he was completely naked, his muscular chest and arms flexing as he undressed. You were still on your back as he crawled onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you, knees on either side of your thighs. You watched as he hitched up the bottom of your dress so it rolled up to your waist, pulling down the neckline so your breasts fell out and presented themselves to him.

"You want this?" He asked, slapping his cock against your pussy through your panties. His hands reached down to grab your tits, squeezing roughly.

"Please, please, please," you chanted like a mantra, hands reaching out for him. You pushed your panties aside with one hand and took his cock in the other, urging him to go inside.

"Needy, aren't we?" Bucky chuckled, biting down on his lower lip. "Tell me what you want. Use your words, doll."

"I want your cock in my cunt," you said desperately, wanting - no, needing to be filled by him. "I want you to fuck me like the fuckdoll I am. I want you to cum inside me, please - Bucky!" You screamed out when he suddenly thrust inside you without warning, without letting you adjust as he entered you all at once.

He bottomed out with a groan, his cock stretching your tight hole.

"Oh god, Bucky," you moaned as he moved with ruthless speed, fucking in and out of your pussy with such force that your tits bounced with every movement. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he leaned down and kissed you angrily, tongue sliding into your mouth.

"This cunt is mine," he hissed, punctuating every word with a sharp jerk of his hips. "No one else. You belong to me. Say it."

"I - ah - belong to - ah - I belong you you, Bucky!" you whined, struggling to catch your breath. "Wait, not so fast, please," you moaned as he hit that spot deep inside your cervix with no mercy.

He didn't stop his pace, only moved to prop your legs up over his shoulders to allow him even better access to you, his cock seemingly sinking even deeper into you, in a way that felt impossible. You felt so full, so over-stimulated, you knew you wouldn't last long.

"Not so fast?" Bucky repeated with a humorless laugh, mocking you. "You wanted it to badly before, doll. I'm just giving it to you."

"Ah -Bucky - " tears of pleasure leaked from the corners of your eyes as you struggled to make a coherent sentence.

"Love how you're clenching around my cock. You were made to take my cock, to be filled up by me," Bucky said, the words making you wetter by the minute. "Gonna cum inside you, doll, gonna give you every last drop. Gonna remind you who you belong to. Gonna pound my cock into you until you beg me to stop."

"Daddy, please, cum inside me," you gasped. You could feel yourself reaching your orgasm, that feeling of pleasure creeping up slowly until you found yourself begging Bucky to keep going. "Please don't stop, don't stop, i'm almost there. Please keep fucking me, Bucky!"

A feral noise left Bucky's mouth as his cock continued to dive in and out of your sore pussy, never once faltering. You knew he could feel it when you clenched around him with a gasp, stars blinding your eyes as you came, his name falling off your tongue.

"Oh god," you gasped, heart beating rapidly as Bucky never stopped moving, smirking at your shaking form.

His hands reached down to flick at your clit as you squirmed, too sensitive.

"Bucky, no," you whined weakly, the pleasure too much for you as he continued to play with your pussy all the while his shaft disappeared into your cunt again and again, slick with your juices.

"You can do it one more time, doll, I know you can. Cum for daddy," Bucky grunted.

"Are you gonna cum inside me?" You asked as you felt the burning beginnings of another orgasm slowly stir inside you, biting on the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from screaming. Your hands made their way to Bucky's neck, pulling him down to kiss you again.

"You're my cumslut, aren't you?" Bucky asked, eyes boring into mine. "Or do you want me to cum on your tits? Your face?"

The image of him painting your face white with his semen was almost too much. Tempting, but you knew you wanted it all in you tonight.

"Inside," you requested, almost begging.

He grunted in acknowledgement, and you knew he was close as he continued to draw circles around your clit.

He sped up the pace, one hand reaching out to grab the headboard behind you, vibranium hand crushing the wood as his hips stuttered. He groaned loudly as he shot his seed inside you, unloading his cum inside your willing cunt.

"Fuck, doll, you feel so fucking good," he hissed.

It was your second undoing at the feeling of him filling you up, and you unraveled seconds after he did, tears streaming down your face at the absolute electric pleasure of it.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you sweating and panting, his lips burying themselves against your neck.

"God, that was fucking incredible," he said eventually, slightly out of breath. His cock was still inside your pussy, and you whimpered at the feeling of him sliding out of your hole as he softened, his cum following suit.

"You're leaking out of me," you sniffed in protest.

Bucky reached down to deftly slide three fingers into your used cunt, inciting a squeal from your lips, a teasing smile on his face as he lifted his head to look at you, challenging you.

His fingers fucked you, fucking his cum back inside, playing with it as you almost sobbed out loud at the feeling. Eventually he withdrew his hand and lifted his digits to your mouth, which you opened automatically.

You licked him clean, the taste of your combined fluids making you shiver with delight.

"Mmm, Bucky..."

You felt your eyes grow heavy as you finally came down from the high, but you could feel Bucky growing hard against you again, his hand pumping his cock to encourage it.

"Doll, we're not even nearly finished yet."

goodbye- b. barnes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you serious?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

“you have arrived.”

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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OH. OH NO. PLSSSS WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

lessons in lovemaking [part three]

marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, handjobs, fondling, nudity, fem reader, bucky is touch starved, vague mentions of previous sa, ex black widow reader, very consensual, safe words, kissing, bucky barnes needs a hug, if you squint, there's some plot, fluff, angst, bickering, sparring, training, mentions of alcohol, natasha cares, injury, blood, reader is lowkey depressed, trauma, mentions of past violence and death, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 9.9k

A/N: hey if you have dejavu seeing this, it's because the other post is glitched for some reason and some people aren't able to see it, i think it's to do with there being over 30 people on the taglist. i'll have to come up with a solution for that. in the meantime, pls enjoy and hopefully this post is actually visible!. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist | series masterlist

"Go for the left."

Kate blinked. "The left?"

"Yes."

She looked from you to Bucky, eyebrows raised like you’d asked her to charge a bear with a toothpick. "We’re talking about the left? The metal freaking arm left?"

"That’s the one."

The look she gave you was flat-out incredulous. "Are you serious? Isn’t that the last place I should be aiming?"

You resisted the urge to sigh. "That’s exactly why you should aim there. Everyone goes for his right. They assume it’s weaker. Bucky knows that. He’s trained to defend that side, conditioned even. But the left? Sure, it’s strong. That doesn’t make it invulnerable. Watch him."

You nodded toward Bucky, shadowboxing in the centre of the mat, relaxed but precise, like a predator keeping his muscles warm. "See how he braces before a punch? That slight weight shift? It’s a habit. Subtle but predictable. It leaves a small window, but just enough. Learn to spot that, and you can drop someone twice your size."

Kate’s expression turned thoughtful, eyes narrowing as she studied Bucky more intently. "Okay… so how do you get good at spotting weaknesses like that?"

"Learn to observe. Don’t rush in swinging. Patience and preparation will win a fight long before your fists do."

Kate nodded slowly, rolling her shoulders. "Alright. Let’s see if I can prove you right."

She took a step forward, then hesitated, glancing back at you with a sheepish grin. "I am a little scared, though—"

You gave her a flat look. "Just go, Kate."

She groaned but turned back toward Bucky, stepping onto the mat with a reluctant sort of determination.

It was late afternoon, and golden light poured through the gym windows in long, drowsy streaks. Dust drifted lazily in the sunbeams, but the air was thick with tension—not the kind that came from training, but from something far more complicated. Natasha and Yelena had thought it hilarious to pair you not only with Kate for sparring but also with Bucky. You had no doubt they were watching from the sidelines, smirking into their water bottles. Those two were always scheming.

Natasha hadn’t said anything to you yet, but then again, you’d been avoiding her like the plague since yesterday’s meeting. She was too sharp, too perceptive not to pick up on the subtle shifts in both your and Bucky’s behaviour. The cracks were already showing, the slightly too-long looks between you and Bucky, the stiffness in your tone whenever his name came up, the defensiveness you thought you’d kept hidden but apparently hadn’t.

You knew you couldn’t dodge her forever. Sooner or later, she’d confront you. And when she did, you’d have to lie—or worse, tell some version of the truth. What that truth even was… you weren’t sure. Not yet.

And Bucky?

You had no idea how to tell him you thought she already knew. That kind of conversation was a minefield, one wrong word and you’d either send him into horrified silence or make him regret every second of the nights spent together. Neither option was appealing.

You exhaled sharply, arms crossed as you watched Kate bounce on the balls of her feet, testing the space between her and Bucky.

He stood still in the centre of the mat, arms relaxed at his sides, expression unreadable. Brooding and unimpressed, as always. He hadn’t looked at you once all day, not properly at least. And yet you couldn’t stop thinking about how you knew exactly what he looked like when he came undone beneath you, fingers tangled in sheets and voice gone rough with need. He had been about as excited as you felt when the ‘teams’ for sparring were announced. You were beginning to suspect some convoluted plot half the compound was in on to see you and Bucky go head to head.

Now, he was back to being the Winter Soldier, being precisely what H.Y.D.R.A trained him to be, stoic, intimidating, unreadable. He had a talent for making his opponents feel beneath him. Unworthy. It was a tactic, you knew that, but it still worked.

Kate circled warily, eyes darting as she tried to read him, every shift in her posture betraying nerves. You watched her movements closely, noting the hesitation, the constant foot adjustments. She was looking for the right moment. You just hoped she’d recognise it when it came.

Much to Yelena and Natasha’s annoyance, you had flipped their little prank back onto them, sending Kate out to spar first, hoping to break her out of that ‘swing first, think later’ style Yelena loved so much.

A shadow moved in the corner of your vision as Yelena strolled up beside you, arms crossed, her gaze flicking between you and the fight. Speak of the devil, and she will appear. 

"You’re staring real hard," she drawled. "What, got money riding on this?"

You didn’t bother looking at her. "She’s your pet project. Remind me again why I’m the one training her?"

"Apprentice," Yelena corrected smoothly.

You blinked. "What?"

She gestured vaguely toward Kate, who was still circling Bucky with the kind of careful precision that told you she was second-guessing herself. "She’s my apprentice, not a pet project. There is a difference."

"Uh-huh," you said flatly, entirely unconvinced. "And yet I’m the one teaching her how to think, instead of just swinging wildly and hoping the universe sorts it out."

Yelena smirked. "Because I am all wham, whack, bang, bam, action! Yes? You are all boring lectures and tactical talk. It is balance. How is she supposed to know how cool and awesome I am without hearing all your boring lectures about battle analysis—"

You turned to her, unimpressed. "Did you just make up sound effects?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said sweetly, then sipped from a water bottle like she hadn’t just made cartoon sound effects with complete sincerity.

Your focus shifted back to the fight as Kate feinted right, then hesitated—again. Bucky wasn’t attacking yet, just watching her with the kind of stillness that would’ve put even you on edge. He was waiting for her to make the first move, to reveal her plan before he committed to a real counter.

"She’s hesitating too much," Yelena observed.

"She’s calculating," you corrected. "That’s what she’s supposed to do."

Yelena made a sceptical noise. "If she waits any longer, he’s just going to knock her flat."

"If she rushes in without a plan, it’ll be the same result."

Bucky shifted—just a subtle test, quick and clean. Kate dodged, but barely. Her stance faltered. Yelena sighed, dragging her hands down her face. "Okay, this is painful to watch. You should just let me handle her—"

“No. I’m trying to teach her to think, not charge in like a wrecking ball.”

"Excuse you," Yelena gasped, touching her chest in mock offence. "I am a very tactical wrecking ball."

You didn’t respond, eyes narrowing. Kate was watching Bucky now—really watching. Good. She sidestepped his next move, then launched into the attack.

A feint to the right. A quick pivot. Just like you’d told her.

Bucky braced for the strike to his right, but it didn’t come.

Kate dipped low, powered off her back foot, and drove her elbow toward his ribs. Clean, sharp, decisive.

Bucky twisted fast, but not fast enough.

Her elbow landed. His breath left in a tight, surprised grunt.

"See?" you muttered, nudging Yelena with an elbow. "She’s learning."

Yelena lifted a brow. "Yeah, yeah. We’ll see if she follows through."

Instead of retreating, Kate followed through, using the momentum to drive her knee upward.

Bucky jerked back, but not far enough. Kate’s knee clipped his chin, snapping his head up just enough for the final blow.

You scoffed. "Give her some credit—"

A sharp smack rang through the gym.

Bucky let out a startled grunt of pain, staggering back, one hand cupping his face. Blood was already leaking between his fingers.

Kate froze, eyes going wide in horror. "Oh my god—Bucky! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—are you okay? Oh god, you’re bleeding—"

Bucky tipped his head back, exhaling sharply through his nose, which only made more blood drip down his lip. “No kidding.”

Yelena snorted beside you. "Okay, I take it back. She might actually be good at this."

Kate was still floundering, hands hovering like she wanted to help but had no idea how. "What do you need—should I get a medic? Ice? Tissues? A priest?"

Bucky shot her a glare, nostrils flaring as more blood dripped down his lip. "Just… just give me a second."

You stepped forward onto the mat. "Well. I’d say she followed through."

Yelena smirked. "Yeah. Maybe a little too well."

Kate turned to you, looking utterly betrayed. "You told me to go for the left!"

"I said to attack the opening on his left, not ‘punch him in the face like you’re trying to knock out a tooth’, but hey, improvisation is an important skill."

Kate groaned. Bucky muttered something low and vile in Russian as he turned toward the exit, blood trailing faintly in his wake.

Even Yelena blinked. “That sounded like a curse, Kate. Possibly an ancient one.”

“Don’t say that!” Kate whined in fear. 

"I’ll handle him," you muttered with a sigh, already following. You paused at the edge of the mat, glancing back at Kate. “You did good. Maybe pull your punches and ease off the full-force murder next time?”

Kate groaned louder. "That was me pulling my punches!"

Yelena’s laughter followed you as you crossed the room, clapping her hands together as she bounced on her toes like an excited child. "Oh, this is fun. We should do this more often."

You pushed through the changing room door and stepped into the cooler air beyond. The space was clean and sterile in that way that only rich tech-billionaire funding could buy. Polished tiles, dark wood lockers with brass fittings, and the faint scent of citrusy cleaner lingering beneath the hum of recessed lights.

The sound of running water guided you to the sinks.

Bucky was hunched over the white porcelain basin, one arm braced on the counter, the other still cupping the lower half of his face. The mirror above caught his reflection, blood-streaked, jaw-tight, brows drawn down in a frustrated knot. Crimson spiralled down the drain, bright against the ceramic.

“You look like a crime scene,” you muttered as you crossed the room.

Bucky let out a sharp breath through his mouth, meeting your comment with a pointed grunt that spoke volumes.

You raised a brow. “Are you going to keep glaring at me like I put out a hit on you?”

“You did,” he muttered flatly.

You rolled your eyes, making a beeline for the paper towel dispenser. You pulled out a few thick, folded sheets and pressed them into his free hand. “Sit down.”

“I’m fine.” he grumbled.

“Bucky.” You shot him a look, unimpressed. “Sit.”

His jaw tightened like he wanted to argue, but after a moment, he relented, pushing off the counter, and he trudged toward one of the benches in the centre of the room and sat down stiffly, wincing as he tilted his head back.

You crouched in front of him, studying his face. The blood smeared across his upper lip stood out starkly against his skin, but at least it wasn’t gushing anymore. His nose was red, swelling a little but not crooked. Reaching out, you ghosted your fingers over the bridge, careful and light. “I don’t think it’s broken.”

Bucky huffed. “Feels broken.”

“Yeah, well, maybe don’t let Kate punch you in the face next time.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t dignify you with a response.

Shaking your head, you folded a fresh set of paper towels and pressed them lightly against his nose. “Hold this. It'll keep you from dripping all over Stark’s precious floors.”

Bucky took them with a sigh, his metal fingers brushing yours briefly.

You sank to your knees without really thinking about it, watching as Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, adjusting the pressure with careful precision. His shoulders had lost some of their earlier tension, but his posture was still guarded like he was bracing himself for something more than just the dull throb of pain. The quiet hum of the ventilation system filled the space, blending with the distant murmur of voices from the gym beyond.

“Last night, I—” Bucky broke the silence first, his voice slightly nasal from the swelling.

“You fell asleep.” You cut him off gently, offering a faint smile. You didn’t know how much he had actually heard before exhaustion had finally claimed him. Maybe that was for the best. Perhaps it had been a mistake to let your guard down, to speak so openly, to bare your soul so easily. You had told yourself you wouldn’t burden him with your struggles. He already carried enough of his own.

And yet, he had this way of making you feel safe. Too safe.

It was almost ironic. He was supposed to instil fear, his name alone enough to make enemies think twice. And yet, all you saw was a rather sad, damaged, and tired man, his big, mournful puppy-dog eyes carrying the weight of things he could never put into words.

“Yeah. I don’t… remember it happening,” Bucky admitted, frowning slightly as if frustrated with himself. “One second, I was with you, and the next—”

“Did you sleep well, at least?”

He hesitated like he was debating whether to downplay it. But then, finally, he nodded. “Yeah. Best I have in a while.”

Your smile grew just a little. “I’m glad.”

Silence settled again, not awkward, but not entirely comfortable either. Then, after a beat, Bucky sighed.

“I’m sorry that I don’t talk to you much outside of… lessons.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Bucky. You don’t… owe me anything.”

“It’s just… I don’t know how to act,” he admitted, gaze flicking away. “Not with everyone watching. I don’t want them figuring out. I don’t like their attention being all over me.”

Your smile faltered for just a second before you forced it back into place. 

“How’s your shoulder?” you asked, shifting the conversation.

Bucky’s brows pulled together in confusion. “How do you know about that—?”

You shrugged. It was your job to observe. To pick people apart and learn their secrets before they even knew them themselves. “During training, I’ve noticed you favour your right side. You block and punch heavier with it. You were compensating subconsciously because your left side was giving you grief. Have you thought about seeing a physio?”

His lips parted slightly like he hadn’t expected you to catch that. Then his gaze narrowed, a hint of suspicion creeping in.

“Is that why you gave me a massage yesterday?”

You smirked, tilting your head playfully. “Hm. Maybe.”

Bucky huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Always two steps ahead, huh?”

You leaned in just a little, eyes glinting with amusement, a witty remark hanging off your tongue—only to dissolve the moment the door swung open.

Steve sauntered in, halting mid-step by the sinks as he took in the scene. You were kneeling between Bucky’s legs, a faint smirk tugging at your mouth while he looked down at you with something dangerously close to a smile—bloody paper towel and all.

Steve’s brows lifted. Confusion crossed his face, mixed with something harder to place, surprise? Suspicion? Whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t expecting this.

You jerked back instinctively, hands bracing on your thighs as you turned to face him.

“It’s not broken,” you announced a little too quickly, jerking your chin toward Bucky. “He’ll live. Bit of swelling and a bit of bruising. Nothing that won’t fade.”

Steve blinked, still trying to piece things together. “I didn’t realise you two were… friends?”

You let out a short, sharp laugh, already on your feet and several paces away. “Hear that, Barnes? We’re friends now.”

Bucky—who stiffly sat on the bench, with his hands still braced against his knees—remained utterly rooted in place as if one wrong move would shatter the illusion. His eyes flicked to you, then to Steve, then back to you, a silent plea not to say anything more.

Steve, on the other hand, still looked perplexed. 

“What?” you asked, turning back to the sink and rinsing your hands of the small amount of blood that had smudged across the skin during your brief inspection.

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing, I just, uh…” His face twisted slightly like he regretted speaking at all. “I’ve never heard you laugh before. It surprised me, that’s all.”

That stopped you. Cold. The smirk slipped from your face like it had never been there. Classic Steve Rogers. World’s most well-meaning bastard. Saying the worst possible thing with the purest damn intentions.

You hadn’t exactly made yourself the most approachable presence on the team. You kept your distance, never bought into the ‘team bonding’ crap that Stark and Fury constantly tried to shove down your throat. You weren’t here for friendships but to do a job. But something about how he said it—I’ve never heard you laugh before—grated deep. Like your silence was an affliction. Like you were broken because you didn’t play nice like everyone else.

Without thinking, you flicked water in his direction.

He flinched back with a slight grimace. 

“Thanks, Rogers,” you said, bone-dry. Then you turned, walking away without another word.

You could faintly hear Steve’s voice, panicked and confused, coming from behind you as you pushed the door open.

“What? What did I do?” he called to Bucky, his voice trailing.

“That was painful,” Bucky muttered loud enough for you to catch. “You always tell women to smile more, or is that just your opener? Remind me how you bagged Sharon talking like that—”

“That wasn’t what I was saying—!” Steve protested, his words quickly swallowed by the sound of the door snapping shut behind you

But it didn’t matter.

Because the truth was, you probably would laugh more if life hadn’t spent the past few years making sure you forgot how. If it weren’t for how every genuine emotion now felt like an act, something you wielded like a weapon to get what you wanted. The only time you really smiled or laughed anymore was on missions, tools of the trade. Smile here, flirt there, manipulate, mislead, vanish. You could fake it all like second nature, charm so convincing it fooled even yourself sometimes.

Because when it was real, it still felt like a lie.

You stalked back into the gym, trying to push the thoughts aside. Yelena’s sharp eyes caught yours almost immediately. “We’re going to the bar after this. You coming?”

You reached for your gym bag, slinging it over your shoulder without missing a beat. “No,” you answered flatly, prowling to walk toward the door.

“You’re not coming?” Kate had appeared from nowhere at your side, big blue eyes staring up at you.

You glanced down at her, deadpan. “Can you even go? Aren’t you like twelve?”

Kate’s begging expression melted into a playful glare, hands on her hips as you hesitated by the door. “No! I’m in college. I’m not a kid!”

You raised an eyebrow, her defensive tone amusing you. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” she shot back, almost proudly.

You grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “Ah, barely legal.”

“It’s fine, she’ll be with us!” Yelena chimed in, giving you a pleading look. “Nat is coming, the others too, maybe Kate can buy Bucky a drink as an apology for breaking his nose—”

“Hey! I didn’t break it!” Kate protested, then looked up at you with a fearful expression, voice dipping in volume. “I didn’t, did I?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning in dramatically as if giving a speech. “I can already see the headline: ‘Avengers Drunken Antics on Public Display’—.’”

Yelena scowled at you. “It’s fine!” 

You smirked, but the exhaustion from the past few hours still weighed heavily on you. “You’re probably right. I can’t say much, in Russia we had vodka with breakfast.”

“So you’re coming?” Yelena asked one last time, sounding hopeful despite your resistance.

“No.” You said it with finality.  “I’ve seen too much of your face today. I need a break.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow, but Kate was already heading towards her bag with a skip in her step. “Fine! More for us then!”

—

The training room was unusually quiet without Yelena’s smartass remarks ricocheting off the walls. Usually, the three of you trained together in the early mornings, but she and Kate were off on some covert infiltration upstate. Childs play for Yelena, really, though she’d taken her duties as a mentor for her little pet project rather seriously. That left just you and Natasha circling each other on the mat. You weren’t exactly thrilled about Yelena’s absence, which meant you were facing the full brunt of Natasha’s wrath alone. What didn’t help was that you hadn’t slept properly in days. You were running on fumes, and it showed. The last week had felt like one long string of wipeouts, each one dragging you down further with no sign of relief.

You ducked beneath a lazy strike, half-hearted at best, and swept your leg toward Natasha’s ribs. She blocked it with her shin like she’d barely noticed.

“Sloppy,” she remarked.

You threw a punch, weak and lazy. Natasha easily caught your wrist, spinning your body and throwing you to the mat. The impact knocked the air out of your lungs. She didn’t even break a sweat. She let out a short laugh, her hair spilling into her face as she looked down at you, amused.

But something was off.

Not in how she fought—no, that was as sharp as ever—but in her expression. Tight-lipped. Smug. And not her usual brand of smug, either. This was different, like she was sitting on a secret and absolutely itching for you to notice. She had that look again. The same one she’d had for the last two weeks. A silent challenge. An arrogant knowing. A game of cat and mouse neither of you had been willing to finish.

You groaned, deciding to cut your losses and pushed yourself off the mat, wiping sweat from your brow.

“There’s obviously something you want to say to me,” you muttered.

Natasha didn’t even pause. She moved in for another strike before you could fully recover, but you caught her forearm and twisted. She resisted effortlessly, that infuriating calm grin spreading across her face again.

“Nope,” she said. “Just… pleased, that’s all.”

“Pleased about what?” you asked cautiously.

Natasha pivoted out of your grip like water slipping through your fingers and swept your legs out from under you with a sharp hook of her foot. You hit the ground again with a dull thud. She didn’t bother offering you a hand up as if half-convinced you’d stay down.

“That I figured out your little secret before everyone else.” Her grin turned vicious. She started to circle you again, tone sing-song and entirely too satisfied. “Took me a while, but once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.”

You rolled up to your feet, levelling her with a look. “What secret?”

You played it cool. Innocent. But you both knew the gig was up. Natasha was like you, trained to spot what others missed, to read the body language no one else even registered. She’d probably clocked you and Bucky the moment you returned from the Gala. She and Yelena hadn’t exactly been subtle about their hunches, either.

She raised a brow. “Oh, come on. You’re really going to make me say it?”

You blinked back at her, expression blank.

“You,” she said, dragging the word out. “And Barnes.”

You deflected with a snort. “Yelena’s theories getting to you?”

“Don’t lie.” Natasha rolled her eyes. “He’s always making those puppy-dog eyes at you when he thinks no one’s looking.”

You barked a laugh, catching her off guard just long enough for you to swing a low kick her way. She dodged it neatly.

“Puppy-dog eyes? I can’t imagine it.” You lied through your teeth. “He always looks like someone kicked him while he was down. That or the brooding.”

Natasha’s smirk sharpened. “And you’re into that? He must be a very good fuck if you’re sticking around this long.”

“We haven’t…” You hesitated with a curse, missing a beat in your footwork. You shook your head, willing your mind to be able to focus on two tasks at once through the haze of fatigue. “Why would I want to fuck Barnes—”

“Considering our line of work, you’re a terrible liar sometimes.” You scowled at the amusement dripping from her voice. 

“It’s not like that between us.” You relented. “Not that it’s any of your business anyway—”

She cut over you, tilting her head. “You’re telling me you two haven’t had sex? God, don’t tell me it’s romance—”

“I’m just helping him feel normal.” You snapped back, hoping to shut her down before it got worse. “H.Y.D.R.A fucked him up, that’s for sure. The same way the Red Room fucked us up.”

Natasha made a face like something had clicked into place in her mind. “Shit.”

Your stomach dropped, movements stuttering as you realised you had unintentionally opened the floodgates. 

“Right,” she murmured, and something about her tone shifted. Not her usual brand of teasing. “You’re not… Never mind.”

You lunged toward her on instinct, catching her wrist with a clumsy grip. The contact was unsteady, your fingers didn’t have the strength they usually did, and Natasha didn’t fight back immediately.

“What?” you asked, eyes narrowing.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied too quickly, too carefully.

“You’ve said it now,” you pressed, breath short. “Go on.”

She hesitated, her jaw ticking as her gaze drifted down, avoiding yours. The tension in her body softened by degrees, like she’d been carrying the thought for too long and finally decided it wasn’t worth holding onto.

“I just…” she exhaled, slow and controlled, “I worry about you sometimes. I hope you’re not taking on too much.”

You blinked at her, the fog in your head thick and sluggish. “Why do you say that?”

“You know what I mean.”

You knew what she meant, even if it was a truth you’d been hiding from yourself. A truth you didn’t want to look at too closely out of fear of it consuming you whole. A dull ache formed your chest, a lump in your throat as you shook your head. 

You knew Natasha wouldn’t have had any way of knowing those forbidden words you’d uttered to Bucky, the ones he had missed as sleep had pulled him under, the thoughts that haunted you now that you had finally shown them acknowledgement. You felt sick. Rotten to your core. Like maggots and rot festered within, wriggling and twitching beneath the skin, just enough for you to pretend, smile, and continue like normal as your world shattered around you.

“I’m not some broken little girl, Nat,” you said, heat rising behind your words. “I can look after myself.”

“I’m sure of that,” she said softly, and it was the softness that rattled you most. Natasha didn’t do soft unless it mattered. “But… can you look after yourself? Or have you just isolated yourself for so long that you’ve tricked yourself into thinking the only person you can trust is yourself?”

Her voice, the quiet honesty of it, landed harder than any blow she’d dealt all morning.

You looked down, your fists trembling faintly. You flexed your fingers, opening and closing them like the answer might be written in your palms.

“I’m fine.”

She didn’t argue, but she didn’t believe you either. You could feel it in the silence between her breaths. Natasha never spoke unless she meant it. She was always calculating like you.

“I just…” she said, the words tentative like they were being picked up and examined before they left her mouth. “I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

She paused, then added with a wry twist of her lips as if to soften the blow, “Or Barnes.”

You snorted, the sound bitter and short. “Since when do you care about Barnes?”

“I don’t,” she said. “Not really. But if he gets attached and this doesn’t go how he hopes, he could spiral. And if you get attached and he panics…”

“I know.”

And you did. You knew it too well. The thought had curled up behind your ribs and sat there, heavy and unwanted, gnawing at you whenever he looked at you like you were something soft. Like you were safe. You didn’t feel like a safe option. 

“Just…” Natasha’s voice was quieter now, more cautious. “Don’t lose yourself trying to fix him.”

You met her eyes, forcing yourself to stay grounded. To not waver. “I’m not damaged.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but you saw how her brow pinched, the subtle twitch at the corner of her mouth.

“You know what I mean,” she said.

You sighed, the weight of your exhaustion peeling every word from your throat like it didn’t want to come willingly. “I’m also not trying to fix him. We’re just… friends. With benefits. Nothing more.”

She gave a slow nod like she was willing to accept that on paper, but in her gut, she wasn’t buying it.

“Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll believe you. Just… don’t go all radio silent on me like you do. I’m here for you, you know?”

You raised a brow, trying for humour but lacking the energy to pull it off entirely. “You getting all sappy on me now?”

“Never.”

“Sure sounds like it.”

“Hm. Maybe.” She swiped the back of her hand across her brow. “But don’t tell Yelena. She’ll rip me to fucking shreds over it.”

Despite yourself, you let out a faint, tired laugh.

But it only lasted a second before Natasha lunged again.

You weren’t fast enough this time—your sluggish body didn’t catch up to the signal your brain sent. Her leg swept yours, and the mat slammed into your shoulder before you even realised you were falling. Pain flared, dull and heavy, and you lay there. Breathing hard. Staring up at the ceiling like it might offer you some kind of answer.

Natasha hovered above you, arms crossed loosely, her expression unreadable.

“Seriously,” she said. “When was the last time you actually slept? You look like shit.”

There it was, the usual cool, snide remark to cushion the fact that she truly cared. Like she knew you’d run like a spooked animal if she showed too much kindness. You didn’t answer right away. Just closed your eyes and let the silence stretch.

Natasha let out a grunt, not the least bit impressed.

—

You would have to warn Bucky that if he kept looking at you like that, the two of you were bound to end up in a whole world of trouble. 

It was bad enough that Natasha was on your tail—worse than that—she’d found the bones in your closet, polished them clean, and lined them up like trophies. You knew she wouldn’t breathe a word to Yelena, or anyone else for that matter, but you could feel a future creeping toward you, one where her tongue slipped. Just once. That’s all it would take.

And Bucky? He wasn’t helping. Not with that look. Not when even Steve Rogers did a double take, brows ticking up as if to say really, Buck? 

You were fresh off a particularly gruelling recon mission at Karpin’s club. No fists were thrown, no bullets dodged, but that didn’t make it any less exhausting. Playing the role of an attractive, naïve dancer took more skill than most people realised. You’d spent the last six weeks prying secrets from Karpin’s greasy fingers. Details about his buyers, how payments were moved, anything useful. He never suspected a thing, too high on his own ego to realise the little thing on his arm was gutting him for intel.

Fury had been unmistakable in his instructions—get the buyers first. If they caught wind that S.H.I.E.L.D was sniffing around, they’d scatter like roaches, and the whole operation would collapse. So you played the waiting game. Carefully. Precisely. Night after night.

Now you just wanted a drink. And a scalding-hot shower. Maybe both at once. Your skin felt like it had absorbed the club, cheap vodka, cigarette smoke, and desperation.

You adjusted the fur coat around your shoulders with a groan, trying to ignore how your dress—if you could even call it that—kept shifting against your skin. Yelena had dubbed the coat your ‘mob wife piece’ after finally watching The Sopranos, and the name had stuck. Your heels were the real punishment, though. Tall, unforgiving, and cursed by whatever sadist designed them.

After every recon job, the standard protocol was to turn in evidence immediately—cameras, bugs, audio mics, and a hand-written report. After six hours of playing pretend, you were scribbling in agonising detail while the evidence collection agent across from you gave you a rather pointed, unamused look. You briefly considered banging your head against the desk.

And, of course, Bucky was watching you. Not subtly. No, he was seated in a glass-walled meeting room across the way, surrounded by agents and Avengers, but his eyes hadn’t left you in a while. He looked like a gambler who’d just hit the jackpot. You watched him watching you, and you forgot to be annoyed for a second. He looked... ravenous. Unapologetically so.

The meeting finally broke. Doors opened. Agents spilled out. That was your cue. Evidence was handed in, and your aching wrist is getting no thanks for its service. The agent slid your report into a folder stamped ‘CLASSIFIED’ in angry red ink. You almost laughed. God, the theatre of it all.

Natasha bumped your shoulder as she sauntered past towards the elevator. 

“Better keep loverboy in check,” she muttered in your ear as she passed. Her smirk was wicked. 

You shot her a scowl.

Bucky was in the crowd, still watching. His gaze wasn’t on your scowl, though. It was lower. Tracing the cling of the gold mesh slip dress, the way it shimmered under the harsh overhead lights. Tacky enough for the job. Tight enough to draw attention. It hugged every curve with intent, and though it wasn’t your usual style, you were beginning to wonder if it might become one.

You hadn’t pegged Bucky for the type who’d go wild for glitter and skin, but judging by the look in his eyes…

Thank god for lessons, or he'd be dealing with a very awkward elevator ride. 

“I think I’ll take the stairs,” you replied, more bitterly than you meant to.

Natasha smirked as the elevator doors began to close, her eyes dancing with amusement and just a hint of sympathy. But it was Bucky’s gaze that lingered until the very last second as if he could memorise the sight of you before the doors cut him off.

You turned sharply on your heel and made for the stairs, the ache in your feet be damned. The heels bit with every step, but you welcomed the sting. It was easier to focus on than the heat lingering after Bucky’s gaze.

Four flights up, your phone dinged.

You didn’t have to check it to know. You already had a feeling. Still, a smirk pulled at your lips as you glanced at the lock screen.

Can I see you tonight?

Bucky had taken to modern tech far better than Steve ever had. Where Steve still asked what a GIF was or accidentally created a new group chat every time he tried to reply, Bucky had easily slipped into the rhythm. 

You thumbed out a reply as you rounded the next flight of stairs.

Aren’t you going out for drinks with the others?

Fridays had become a ritual for the team, provided no one was off saving the world or buried in a mission, so there’d be a few rounds at a bar nearby. Laughter. Cheap beer. Temporary normalcy.

You watched the typing bubble flicker to life… then vanish. Then again. And again.

Not my scene.

A pause.

Is that a no?

You grinned, slowing your steps just a little. You could picture him sitting on the edge of his bed, hovering over the screen like the answer might change everything.

You typed quickly.

I’ll come to your room right now if you ask nicely.

You paused in the stairway, hesitating outside the door for the residential floor where all the apartments were located. Your pulse tapped a little faster beneath your skin.

Another ding.

Please?

That was all it took.

You pushed open the door.

On my way.

—

“I want to try something different,” you murmured against Bucky’s skin, your lips brushing the hollow of his throat as you nuzzled into the warmth of his neck.

It all happened in a blur when you stepped through his door. Heels abandoned at the threshold, your coat sliding from your shoulders like a shrug of tension gone loose. Bucky had lasted all of two seconds, long enough for a strained smile and a greeting muttered through clenched teeth before instinct took over. His hands found your waist. Your back. Your thighs. And then you were in his lap as he stumbled backwards onto the bed, the mattress giving under both your weight and the familiar gravity that always pulled you toward each other.

Mumbled apologies about the scent of alcohol and sweat were lost beneath kisses, the air thick with the smell of him—black coffee from his meeting and that damn aftershave—as you melted into your usual spot atop him.

His rough palm ghosted up the back of your thigh in lazy strokes, the pads of his fingers brushing skin like he already knew it by heart. You blinked up at him, studying the angles of his face, searching for that tell-tale flicker, tightening of his jaw, a furrow between his brows, anything that indicated hesitation or worry. But there was none. Instead, he caught your eye, the touch of vibranium fingers cool and featherlight against your cheek.

“Last time you said that,” he murmured with a low chuckle, “you blindfolded me.”

“And it worked, didn’t it?” You cut back rather smugly, only to be met with a reluctant hum of agreement. “I want to talk about something first.”

Bucky stilled, alert now in that quiet, observant way of his. “What’s that?”

Your fingers toyed with the fabric of his shirt. “Are you afraid of me touching you?”

He blinked, surprised. “No? Is this a trick question—?”

“Do you like me touching you?”

“Yes.” His answer came easily, without hesitation.

“But you don’t like me touching your cock.”

That gave him pause. The stroking of your thigh faltered. There it was, his jaw ticked, the smallest tension rising between his brows like a storm cloud forming just behind his eyes.

“I don’t…Isn’t that what we’ve been doing these past few months?” His voice was low, cautious.

“You let me touch you near it,” you said gently. “But if I move my hand under your waistband, even just a little, you freeze. You ask me to stop. I just want to know why.”

His throat bobbed with a hard swallow. He stared at the ceiling instead of at you, like maybe the answer was written there if he looked hard enough.

“There’s no wrong answer,” you whispered. “I’m not upset. I’m not trying to push you. I just want to understand. To help.”

He exhaled slowly, brows knitting in thought. 

“It’s overwhelming, I think,” he said finally. “The added…feeling. On top of everything else that’s already happening.”

“So,” you said slowly, “if it happened in isolation. Nothing else, just that, you’d feel more comfortable? More in control?”

He nodded once. “Yeah. I think so.”

You hesitated, then asked softly, “Would you be okay with trying today? Right now?”

His eyes finally met yours, a flash of vulnerability behind the steel blue. “Putting me on the spot here, doll…”

Doll. That was a pet name you wouldn’t look too deeply into. Or acknowledge. He didn’t even seem to notice he had said it.

“You can always say no,” you reminded him softly. “That’s the most important rule, always. Either of us can stop at any time. No questions, no pressure, no hard feelings.”

He was quiet momentarily, gaze flickering between your eyes, searching for something. Then he nodded once, steady.

“Let’s do it.”

You paused, holding his gaze. “Are you sure?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, a touch wry. “I trusted you when you blindfolded me, didn’t I?” he said, voice low, rough around the edges. “I don’t see any reason not to trust you now.”

That was all the encouragement you needed.

You slipped off his lap with ease, sinking onto the floor between his knees, the hem of your dress bunching up around your thighs. You blinked up at him expectantly, steady but unhurried. Bucky hesitated, shoulders tensing as his hands hovered uncertainly at his belt. A flicker of embarrassment was behind his eyes, the kind he hadn’t yet learned to hide from you.

You didn’t comment on it. Didn’t tease him for the blush creeping up his neck, or for the way his fingers fumbled slightly as he undid the buckle and began peeling off the layers. You just waited—quiet, patient, allowing him to find his own pace. You didn’t point out the irony of it all, how easily he’d unravel for you, but how nudity still brought hesitation. Like showing skin was somehow more vulnerable than offering up his soul.

His boxers were the last to go, and by the time he slid them down, he was already half-hard, his cock flushed with arousal. The pink tint on his cheeks deepened as his eyes darted away from yours.

You tilted your head, shifting closer until you were kneeling between his legs. The warmth radiating from his thighs drew you in like a hearth. Your hand brushed lightly over his knee in reassurance, and he twitched at the contact.

“You okay?” you asked softly, your voice more hum than a question.

He nodded, but it was too tight, too instinctive.

You paused.

“Need to hear your words, Bucky. I’m only going to do this if you tell me you’re okay.”

There was a beat of silence, his vibranium hand clenching in the sheets beside him.

“I want this,” he said, voice low but certain, even if his body still trembled faintly beneath you.

You held his gaze for a moment longer, reading the tension in his shoulders, the way his chest rose and fell with shallow breath.

“You remember what to say if you need to stop?”

He nodded again, more grounded this time. “Yeah. I remember.”

Satisfied, you reached out, your fingers wrapping gently around the base of his cock. You were cautious at first, letting your touch linger without pressure, just the soft drag of skin against skin. A strained groan left him almost immediately, the muscles in his thighs tightening on either side of you.

You glanced up at him through your lashes, watching his face twist with the sensation. His jaw slackened, mouth parted, eyes nearly fluttering closed as you began to stroke him. Slow, deliberate, careful. He was thick and heavy in your hand, already pulsing with anticipation, growing harder by the second. You shouldn’t have been surprised. Not after the nights spent grinding into each other, his arousal pressed tight and insistent through layers of clothing, but still, the reality of him was enough to stir a wicked spark behind your smile.

You pumped him a few more times, watching how easily his composure began to slip. He was already squirming, breaths ragged, his abdomen twitching every time your palm slid down to the base and back up again.

His head fell back, a quiet whimper escaping him as you thumbed over the slit at the head of his cock. He flinched from the contact, one hand flying to your elbow and gripping it like an anchor, his whole body responding to the jolt of pleasure like he’d been struck by lightning.

“How do you feel?” you asked, voice low, almost teasing.

It took him a moment to answer. His lips parted, trying to form words while his chest heaved, his eyes glazed over with ecstasy. A drop of pre-cum beaded at the tip, and you collected it with your fingers, spreading it down the shaft to ease your rhythm.

“Good,” he finally gasped. “Amazing. Did it always… I don’t remember it feeling—”

His words dissolved into a sharp gasp as you leaned forward and kissed the tip. The contact was featherlight, but it shattered him. His metal hand shot up into your hair, not to pull or direct, but to ground himself, trembling as if the sensation threatened to lift him right out of his skin.

“Oh my god—” He began to whine.

You giggled softly, the warmth of your breath enough to send him over the edge.

Bucky came with a choked moan, his hips jerking as thick, hot ropes spilt over your chin and neck. His thighs trembled with the force of it, his head thrown back as if he couldn’t bear the weight of pleasure crashing through him. You stroked him through it, gentle and slow, coaxing every last pulse from him while he tried and failed to string thoughts together.

As he collapsed back against the mattress, boneless and dazed, you ran a hand up the inside of his thigh, using it as leverage to push yourself upright. His grip on your hair slackened and fell away, his hands lying limp beside him, fingers twitching faintly in the aftershocks.

“I’m gonna clean up,” you hummed, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He didn’t even open his eyes, just nodded, lips parted, breath still ragged.

“Okay,” he mumbled, voice thick and warm with lingering arousal. “I’ll be right here.”

—

It took only a few minutes to freshen up. You moved on muscle memory, warm water, damp cloth, and a quick sweep of your hair from your neck. You paused before leaving the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel in case he wanted it. 

But when you stepped back into the bedroom, you found he’d already taken care of himself, his boxers pulled back on.

Bucky was sprawled across the mattress like he’d melted into it, a sheen of sweat still clinging to his collarbone. He looked wrecked—in the best way. Hair tousled, chest rising and falling in a slow, almost dazed rhythm, but his gaze sharpened the second it landed on you. A lazy, crooked grin tugged at his lips as he lifted an arm in a silent invitation, eyes still half-lidded and blown wide with the afterglow.

You climbed into bed beside him, the weight of his body shifting as you curled into the space between his arm and chest. His skin was warm against yours, the hum of his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. You pressed a soft kiss to the curve of his jaw, and his breath hitched as your hand slid over his stomach.

His mouth found yours not long after, lazy and unhurried like neither of you wanted to break the spell. It didn’t stay that way for long. Hunger crept in. Familiar, greedy heat as his mouth parted and his fingers tangled into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath catch.

And then… you felt him. Again.

Your thigh brushed his hip, and you stilled. Then pulled back, brows arching in playful disbelief. “Already?”

The question hung in the air like a teasing note, half-smirk, half-curiosity.

Bucky’s eyes dipped, lashes fanning over flushed cheeks. He looked momentarily abashed as if he’d been caught red-handed, though the evidence quite literally pressed against your leg.

“It’s the super soldier serum,” he mumbled, the corner of his mouth curling despite himself.

You tilted your head, amusement rising. He was trying to play it cool, but the slight flush on his ears gave him away.

“Oh?” you drawled. “And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?”

His fingers scratched lightly at the back of his neck, a classic tell.

“Steve said something once,” he offered, deliberately vague.

You blinked. Your smile widened, slow and predatory.

“Steve?” you echoed. “You’ve been talking to Steve about this?”

“No!” His protest was immediate and rushed like a man trying to stop a landslide with a broom. “Not exactly,” he amended quickly. “He was talking about Sharon, I guess.”

A laugh bubbled up, and you bit your bottom lip to stifle it, your hand resting lightly on his chest. You could feel the way his heart kicked beneath your palm. Nervous, flustered. Bucky Barnes, caught in the act of oversharing.

“Sharon, huh?” you said innocently, voice tinged with mischief.

His eyes narrowed slightly, catching the shift in your tone. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said airily, pretending to inspect the stitching on the pillowcase behind his head. “Just something Yelena said the other day.”

Suspicion flickered in his gaze, but you forged ahead.

“She thinks Steve wasn’t as innocent as we all pegged him. Something about spotting him and Sharon… in a compromising position.”

Bucky snorted, turning his face into your shoulder to muffle the sound. “I wonder what they’d make of this.”

“Oh, I’d never hear the end of it,” you groaned, flopping onto your back with theatrical flair. “They’re already circling like vultures, trying to interrogate me about the gala.”

He shifted beside you, propping himself up slightly on his elbow to get a better look at your face. “And what did you tell them?”

You hesitated. Just long enough for the silence to tighten.

There it was, the flicker of guilt behind your eyes. You could feel it rise like a slow tide in your chest, swelling into your throat. You should tell him. About Natasha’s uncanny perception, the way her gaze had cut straight through you like a knife, and how you’d cracked under pressure with barely a word from her.

But you didn’t. You weren’t sure how he’d take it. Knowing someone else was privy to this—this, your quiet little secret.

“Nothing,” you said, soft but firm, hoping your smile would mask the lie.

His expression didn’t shift dramatically, but you saw his brow furrowed slightly—a quiet sharpening behind the eye.

“Nothing?” he repeated.

“I just…” You sighed, turning to face him properly. The pillow dipped beneath your cheek. “I figured you didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to make things messy.”

He was quiet. His gaze flicked to the ceiling, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower. “Yeah. It’s probably for the best, isn’t it?”

He didn’t sound entirely convinced by his own words, and you didn’t feel entirely convinced either. 

“It’s up to you,” you said eventually. “Everyone’s image of me is already… well, damaged.” You let out a soft, bitter laugh, fingers twisting idly in the edge of the sheets. “I’m sure this will hardly ruin my reputation. But yours…”

“That seems unfair,” he said, brows drawing together.

“What does?”

“The way they treat you.” Your breath caught slightly, unprepared for its bluntness. You looked at him, and he met your gaze head-on. No hesitation, no irony. Just honesty, raw and unvarnished. And before you could piece together a response, he spoke again. “Do you always do that? Make yourself smaller for other people?”

The question landed like a stone in your gut. You froze, eyes searching his face, almost disbelieving.

He hadn’t said it unkindly. But it lodged deep.

For a moment, you were tempted to laugh it off, to deflect, to be clever. Anything to avoid the sudden, unexpected vulnerability that cracked open inside you like a fault line.

Had he been watching you this whole time? Not just looking, but seeing? Had you been too busy circling Bucky to notice that he circled you in return?

You smiled weakly, wanting to fill the dreadful silence that had settled over the both of you. “I could say the same for you.”

His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you flush against him again. You could feel the weight of him against your hip, the heat building between you again.

You let your nose brush his. “Still something to do with the serum?”

Bucky smirked, lips brushing yours. “That… and you.”

You exhaled a breathless laugh, but something about the way his thumbs moved, slow circles against your ribs, made the warmth curl low in your belly again. The mood was shifting. Building. You could feel it.

And then his voice turned quieter. Uncertain.

“I feel bad,” he murmured.

You blinked, drawing back just enough to see the look on his face. 

“Bad?” you repeated, confused.

“For not…” He gestured vaguely between your bodies. “Returning the favour.”

You reached up, brushing your thumb along the line of his jaw. His stubble rasped against your skin.

“Bucky,” you said gently, “you don’t have to do everything all at once.”

He frowned, and you could tell he didn’t quite agree. Always so ready to shoulder weight that was never meant to be his. Always prepared to give more than he thought he was allowed to take. He carried guilt like it was just another one of his old injuries that could never quite be healed.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you,” you added, quieter now. “With information. Or… expectations.”

His eyes searched yours. “But I want to learn.”

“There’s a little more involved in getting a woman to orgasm,” you said, but your tone light as you tried to shake off the weight of his gaze.

“It doesn’t have to be… I just want to make you feel good.”

God. He said it like it mattered. Like you mattered.

Your resolve crumbled.

You rose slowly, coaxing him to sit up with you. Straddling his hips felt natural now, like returning to a familiar place. You took his hand gently, guiding it up over your shoulder over the thin gold strap of your dress.

“Okay,” you murmured. “Then help me take this off.”

His fingers moved with care, grazing over your skin, catching the strap between his thumb and forefinger as he began to ease the dress down your arms. The fabric slid away like a sigh, pooling around your waist, revealing the strapless bra beneath.

You felt him falter, brow furrowing in confusion. “How does this…?”

You turned around on your knees, back to him. “It unclips at the back,” you murmured, sweeping your hair over one shoulder to expose the delicate line of your spine.

“Just three hooks. Here.” You reached behind you, fingertips brushing the clasp.

His fingers met yours, searching as he followed your instructions. A breath escaped him, soft and shallow, before he found the hooks and gently undid them one click at a time.

The tension in your shoulders eased just a fraction. “There you go.”

His hands hovered, uncertain now that your bare back was before him like an empty canvas. You tossed the bra to the floor and reached back, guiding his hands to your waist, then up, encouraging him to cup the full weight of your breasts. He was hesitant at first, the pads of his fingers a little stiff, a little too tense. The contrast of warm flesh and cool vibranium sent a delicious shiver spiralling through you, eliciting a long, satisfied sigh.

That sound seemed to break whatever restraint he was clinging to. His grip shifted, confidence blooming. He began to knead and explore, thumbs brushing experimentally over your nipples. When a vibranium finger flicked one with the barest touch, you let out a soft whine, your back arching to press yourself flush against his chest.

“I think I like this,” he murmured, voice husky at your ear, breath fanning warm across your skin.

You let out a breathless laugh, turning slowly to face him again, your balance steady in his palms. His hands slid down to anchor you at the hips.

His gaze lingered, not just on your chest, but on your face. Like he was still processing, still memorising. Desire curled in your gut, a heartbeat between your legs. You fought the urge to reach down, to chase the friction your body was begging for.

Bucky leaned forward and kissed you again. Something in him had shifted. He wasn’t following anymore. He was moving with intent. And when he gently rolled you back onto the pillows, his weight settling above yours, your breath hitched.

You tried to ignore the instinct curling tight in your belly. Tried not to let the familiar feeling of being beneath someone stir that old panic. Like the walls might close in around you. Like control was slipping just a little too far out of reach.

His mouth trailed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, between your breasts, and you squirmed ever-so-slightly beneath him. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, a soft sound of satisfaction humming against you. He licked a rough stroke over one of your nipples as if it were a primal instinct.

You groaned, one hand gently scratching across his back, the other through his hair. His knee slotted between your thighs, parting them easily, the gold fabric of your dress bunched at your waist. Only a thin slip of lace remained between you. He didn’t look down. He didn’t need to, his lips were still worshipping your chest.

His vibranium hand curved over your knee, pushing you open further, his hips grinding lightly into yours, and that flicker of alarm surged. Too strong to ignore.

You moved fluidly before it could root itself. With practised grace, you flipped the two of you, rolling him onto his back and straddling his hips in a single, breathless motion. He made no protest, just let out a pleased groan as his hands found your thighs.

You exhaled slowly, grounding yourself in the present. In him. His wide eyes blinking up at you, still caught in the moment.

He didn’t notice the shift. Didn’t ask why you took control again.

And you were grateful.

As you steadied yourself above him, he sat up suddenly, arms sliding around your waist. His mouth pressed a slow kiss to your sternum. He looked up at you, lashes fluttering, nose brushing the curve of your breast.

Your breath caught in your throat.

As he pressed another kiss to your skin, you realised—without a doubt—that maybe this was the single most erotic moment of your life.

Not the act, not the heat of it all but him. The way he looked at you. The gentleness in his hands. The trust humming beneath his skin like a live wire. The way your name might’ve been forming behind his teeth, even if he hadn’t spoken it.

You sank your hands into his hair and pulled him closer.

You were still tangled in each other, the heat between your bodies humming like static, when the apartment door swung open with an easy, unthinking click.

“Hey Buck, you sure you don’t wanna come out with us—?”

The cheerful voice stopped cold. 

Steve.

---

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