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‧₊˚⋅☕︎‧₊˚ ⋅ About me and the blog...
27yo. | Proudly Mexican. | Introvert forced to be an extrovert. | Bisexual. | Married. |
NSFW | +18 MDNI |
This whole account is not a safe place for minors. Please refrain from interacting if you are ageless or a minor. Mind the tags in each post and works.
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☕︎ᝰ.ᐟ My menu...
Here, you can find my own work, which comes in a variety of styles.
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Now on AO3!
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You "get back your community" as you said so many times and now you don't interact, don't reblog, don't comment on anything? You just reblog them accounts w1nter-fairy and herejustforbuckybarnes. You don’t even reblog anyone on your main, just them and that's it.🙄 Fuck ass hypocrite like everyone on this damn community.
I don't know if you know about this... but I got a full time ass job... It also happens that I have a real life outside? And I for sure don't get paid here to can just leave all my responsibilities behind for a hobby.
And I know that you just need some attention, but... you can do better than focusing on a small blog that has posted like 2 Bucky fanfics in two months and it's been reposting a series😭 I'm not even that relevant...
All my stories are R18. I write smut, and I may touch sensitive topics or topics that are not intended to be read by minors.
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN CONTENT CONSUMPTIONS.
Masterlist
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU F!Reader
Word count: ~1.6k
Warning/Tags: Fluff, Light Angst, Mention of a traumatic past, Mention of Maeve, Friends-to-Lovers, Idiots in Love. If I'm missing any tags, I will be adding them later. Not beta-read; we die like me this summer "vacation".
Summary: You and Spencer start to develop a small crush on each other, but neither of you wants to ruin the friendship until you both decide to take the risk.
Author's Note: This is something small and fluffy I was thinking about. I've been having a horrible writer's block and I haven't had the time to write more, or at all, better said. This even took like two days to write. So, enjoy this, and I hope I'll be back soon soon. My summer courses are ending next week, so I hope to be here!
That last case had struck a chord.
You knew it was not best to be part of it; you knew you had stayed out of it. Hotch had asked you to stay out of it, but it was your first year, and your annual review was just about to hit. You never thought that seeing a young girl losing her mother to a psychopath would make you feel this weak, just exactly at the same age you had lost yours.
And there you were, standing next to the door, a cigarette in your fingers. Spencer’s cardigan hung over your shoulders. You knew he was going to chastise you because his cardigan was going to be smelly.
Some voices came through the hallway that led to the door, and it was not the moment for you to hear them telling you how brave you were, or how well you did it there. You just put out your cigarette on your shoe and walked away to your car.
Your apartment was mute. Bloom, the cat Penelope had asked you to adopt some months ago, stared back at you. It had been at least two days since you were there. Penelope helped you take care of her when you were in a case, so she was always happy and… extremely well fed.
The cat was staring at your cardigan.
“It’s Spencer’s. I was cold back there and forgot to take something warm.” You answered as if she was asking. “Besides, don’t ask as if I hadn’t noticed how you and Mr. Whisks look at each other every time me and Mrs. Evans let you two out in the hallways.” You chuckled.
Voices in your head started to echo as you sat in front of your TV. Spencer telling you you weren’t alone—that he was there for you, Penelope’s soft voice telling you you were good enough to be there—Hotch’s first speech when you almost quit your first months. Everyone kept being nice to you, and they really tried to help you feel like you were enough there.
And everything went south the day you realized you had a crush on Spencer. Everyone in the team clocked it immediately—except for him. It was not even a matter of his profiling skills failing him. It was more a social skills issue. The last time he tried to date someone, he was devastated and never really opened up again. You were not on the team at the moment that Maeve’s death happened, but he opened up about it one night.
Two broken individuals are not a match made in heaven, right?
You were curled up on your couch when someone knocked on your door. Through the peephole, you saw Spencer holding a takeout bag.
“What are you doing here?” You opened the door.
“I… didn’t want to leave you here all alone after this case.” He mumbled, “Can I…?”
“Lord, yes. Sorry.”
After setting up the takeout in front of your couch, you noticed how he kept trying to keep up the conversation.
“Spencer, you know I’m fine, right?” He smiled, a tint of hurt showing.
“I know, but I guess I remember how lonely I felt back in the time; I wouldn’t want you to feel the same.”
You bit your lip. “Thank you, Reid.”
“Don’t even say it.”
You were sitting curled up next to him, his arm hugging you from your shoulder. His thumb was tracing circles on your arm with softness. He had spent the last hour doing the same, and that just made your brain go dizzy. Every time you wanted to ask him to stop, he shifted on his seat, pulling you closer to him. Spencer noticed every time you started to overthink all of this.
The fact was—he was overthinking too.
Not at the moment, but he had been thinking about you for the last few months, always thinking that you could never take him seriously. You were always so focused on your things; he even thought you ignored him for how weird he could get from time to time.
“Spencer, you just need to accept you feel something about someone new.” Penelope stroked his back. “I’m not saying you have to say something now, but you can start accepting you like her.”
“It’s not like I have an opportunity with her.” Penelope sighed.
“Boy, don’t play dumb. Everyone in the team knows she’s head over heels for you.”
“No, she’s not.”
“Oh, she is… You’re just so… stuck on you that you don’t notice it.”
They both noticed how you were walking out of the building, taking your pack of cigarettes with you.
“I know that if you asked her, she would quit smoking.”
“No. She won’t. She loves it. And it helps her.”
He hated people who smoked, but he also saw that you did it just in the hardest cases, those that hit close to home. He saw you in your first month smoking like a chimney—that’s when he started his speech about smoking and how many minutes and time it took of your life. You didn’t know why, but you responded, “Nice, shorter time to be able to see my mother.”
He felt like an idiot, but he knew you were just trying to laugh it off.
“Reid…” You talked to him when you noticed he was dozing off, “If you want, we can stop the movie here. I don’t want to keep you awake after the last case.”
“If… If you don’t mind… I like spending time with you.”
“I like to spend time with you, too.”
After that night, you kept going to him when you needed something, even if it was the slightest inconvenience; he was your safe space, and he loved it. He loved every moment you showed him your softest and most vulnerable side.
“So, when are you finally confessing?” Penelope leaned on his desk.
“I—I’m not confessing anything. She feels space with me, and I don’t want to make it weird for anyone.”
“It’s weird for everyone. You all keep walking around, being all intense and weird, and you never do something to make it official.”
“Doing official what?” Morgan sat on the edge of the desk.
“He and our favorite baby SSA.” She giggled.
“C’mon, tiger. You all are just one step from being something.”
“If everything goes weird, it’s gonna be all your fault.” He chastised and walked away.
“Go for it, tiger!” Morgan shouted.
You walked in with two coffees in your hands; Morgan and Penelope were still sitting at Spencer’s desk.
“Where’s Spencer?” You furrowed; Morgan smiled widely. “I brought him coffee!”
“Lunchroom?” Penelope shrugged. You nodded and walked directly there.
You were decided. This was something you had planned for weeks. You wanted to confess to yourself, even if it meant making things weird between you two. Even if it meant that you could lose his friendship.
And then, reality hit you. You were heading to tell him how hopelessly in love you were, how hard it had been since you realized it. You then backtracked from the lunchroom and walked to the nearest confession room you could find.
You knew they were all alone. There was no active case in the city to have someone here, but as you opened the door—you saw him sitting on the chair.
Fucking destiny.
“Reid…” you said as you gripped the doorknob. He said your name as perplexed as you were. “What are you doing here?”
“I… was trying to take a minute.” He admitted. He was trying to keep himself calm after his conversation with Penelope and Morgan.
“Can I take a minute with you?” He smiled, the way you knew you didn’t have to ask, but you were still doing it, making him warm inside. He nodded, and you handed him one of the coffees. “It’s your favorite. As sweet as possible.”
You were talking nonsense, but both of you could notice how your attitude was beyond the moment—both of you were anxious, almost feeling the heavy breathing you both had, the way your leg kept bouncing on the floor, while he fidgeted at the desk.
“Spencer…” You sighed, “I’m so sorry… I haven’t been completely honest.”
He furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“I don’t… I don’t just like your friendship… or the way we are with each other in every moment…” You tousled back your hair. “I love you… and I’m really tired of feeling this way and taking advantage of you in this way… You have been bothing but good to me, and then I’m here with my secret feelings…”
Time stopped, or that’s how Spencer felt. He was sure you would never feel this way, and there he was, listening to you stammering and being a complete mess. His hands were sweaty, eyes locked on you as if he tried to answer as fast as possible, but his words were not complying with his brain.
“Knock, knock!” Penelope chanted behind the door, “Love birds, we got a case!”
You stopped and turned to see the door. “I think… we should go…” You hurried to say.
“Wait…” He took you by your wrist. “Me too… I… Feel it too. And I can’t go to that case, whatever it’s gonna be, without telling you this…”
He then pulled you to walk to the briefing room.
You sat next to each other… Nothing new… Something everyone was used to seeing since you both started becoming closer.
What was new was the way his hand found yours from below the table. His finger light-feather touching yours. It was something only yours. Something you knew everyone would catch immediately, but you loved the way he still really tried to stay subtle.
Taglist @maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals @cynbx @rufles2 +add yourself to my tag list!
summary: After another exhausting day working as Congressman Barnes' assistant, all you want is a cup of tea and a quiet evening with your grandfather's old radio. What you don't expect is a love confession hidden between the static and the music.
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, mutual pining, Bucky navigating modern dating with old-fashioned courtship, soft Bucky.
a/n: I've been dealing with a terrible writer's block lately, but this idea came to me after listening to one particular song from my childhood about someone calling the radio to dedicate a song to the girl they're in love with, this is a very common courtship method in Mexico, or at least it used to be before YouTube and Spotify came to us lol | thank you @kileyking for clarifying some questions I had regarding that and thank you @herejustforbuckybarnes & @buckysdecaflove for beta reading this. ᝰ.ᐟ dividers by @sister-lucifer
read on AO3
You let out a long, weary sigh as you finally pushed open the door to your apartment, kicking off your heels. Another sixteen-hour day as Congressman Barnes' assistant had left you thoroughly drained. Your brain was still spinning with draft speeches, policy briefs and scheduling conflicts.
But it was a good kind of tired. The kind that came from working for someone who actually wanted to make a change, someone who definitely made the long hours feel worthwhile… someone who made your heart do ridiculous little flips every time he smiled at you.
You shook your head, trying to banish the image of Bucky's soft blue eyes and the way his voice dropped to that low, warm register when he spoke to you after everyone else had gone home. It was hopeless, really. You'd had a crush on him for months now, ever since you started working for him. You convinced yourself it was just professional admiration, but late nights alone in the office had a way of making feelings impossible to ignore.
You padded into your small kitchen, filling the kettle for tea. Your apartment was cozy, filled with mismatched furniture and stacks of books, but your favorite thing was the vintage radio sitting on the windowsill. It had been your grandfather's and you've grown up listening to it with him, learning to love the crackle and hiss, the way the music seemed to surprise you with every new song.
You reached over and turned the dial, letting the familiar static fill your quiet apartment. It was your nightly ritual, a small comfort after long days. You hummed along as a commercial for a local diner played, then another for a car dealership.
You were about to head to the bathroom to change when the smooth voice of the DJ, Frankie, cut through the air.
"Alright, folks, we've got a very special dedication coming up tonight. I'm telling you, this one's a real old-school romance, the kind that will make you believe in love letters and slow dances."
You paused, a smile tugging at your lips. You loved dedications. There was something so wonderfully old-fashioned about them, so personal in an increasingly impersonal world.
The crackle of a record filled the air, and then the voice of Louis Armstrong began to sing. You recognized it immediately, your breath catching in your throat.
"I'm confessing that I love you, babe.
Tell me, do you love me too?"
It was your favorite song. The one your grandfather used to play on Sunday mornings, the one you'd secretly always imagined a future love might dedicate to you someday.
You leaned against the kitchen counter, closing your eyes and letting the music wash over you. The saxophone, the gentle piano, Louis' velvet voice wrapping around every word like a warm embrace.
"Am I guessing that you love me? Mm
Dreaming dreams of you in vain? Oh
I'm confessing that I love you over again."
The song faded out, and you sighed ready to head to the bathroom. But then Frankie's voice returned.
"That was the one and only Louis Armstrong, a classic for a classic request. And that request came from a gentleman who wanted to send a little message to a very special lady."
Your heart skipped. You didn't know why, it was just a dedication, probably for someone else entirely.
"He says," Frankie continued, clearing his throat. "To my favorite person, who stays late, works hard and has a smile that makes the long nights a little shorter. This one's for you. Hope you like it as much as I do. And signs as J.B."
Your knees felt weak, and you had to grab the counter to steady yourself.
No. It couldn't be.
Your favorite song? A message signed with "J.B."?
Your mind raced, flashing through every late night in the office, every time Bucky had brought you coffee, every lingering glance, every soft smile. The way he always asked about your day, the way he remembered little details you've mentioned weeks ago. The way he told you to call him Bucky when it was just the two of you, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.
Your phone buzzed on the counter, the screen lighting up. The name on your screen made your heart stutter.
Congressman Barnes.
You answered on the second ring, your voice was barely a whisper. "Hello?"
"Hey." His voice was that same low, warm rumble you heard every day, but there was something different now. "By any chance, were you listening to the radio?"
You could hear the nervousness in his voice and it made your chest ache in the most wonderful way.
"I… yes," you breathed, sinking onto your small couch. "Bucky, that was… did you really…"
"Did I really dedicate a song to you on the radio?" he finished, a soft laugh escaping him. "Yeah, yeah, I did."
"But how did you… how did you know it was my favorite song? How did you even know I listen to that station?"
"I pay attention," he said simply. "I pay attention to you, I notice the little things, like the way you hum along when you think no one's listening, or how you always turn on your radio when you think I'm not watching. I notice everything about you."
You felt tears prick at your eyes, hot and unexpected. "Bucky…"
"Look, I know it's old-fashioned," he continued, and you could picture him running his hand through his hair, a nervous habit you've noticed a hundred times. "I know I should've just said something in person, but… I wanted to do it right, and make it special. You deserve special."
"It is special," you whispered. "It's the most special thing anyone's ever done for me."
"Really?"
"Really." You laughed, a wet happy sound. "You dedicated my favorite song to me on the radio. That's… that's like something out of a movie."
"Good." You could hear the smile in his voice now. "Because I meant every word of it, you know. Every single word."
There was a pause, and you could hear him take a breath.
"So," he said softly, "did you like the song?"
You smiled, curling up on your couch, the radio still playing softly in the background. "I loved it," you admitted. "But I think I loved the message even more."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
There was another pause. Then, "Can I see you? I mean, not right now, it's late, but… tomorrow? Maybe for coffee? Or dinner? Whatever you want, I just…"
"I'd love that," you interrupted, your heart soaring. "I'd love to see you. I'd love to do anything with you."
You heard him exhale, a breath of pure relief. "Good. That's… real good."
You talked for another hour, the conversation flowing easily, filled with soft laughter. When you finally hung up, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your heart felt so full it might burst.
You lay back on your couch, listening to the radio, and let yourself daydream about the next day. About Bucky and the beautiful thing that was finally beginning… and somewhere across the city, Bucky was doing the exact same thing, a smile on his face that hadn't been there in years.
All my stories are R18. I write smut, and I may touch sensitive topics or topics that are not intended to be read by minors.
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN CONTENT CONSUMPTIONS.
Series Masterlist
Previous | Next
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: ~5.2k
Warning/Tags: Alpine appearance!, Steve Rogers is an asshoole, Medical Inaccuracies, Marriage Talk, Misunderstandings, Cheating suspicion, Pregnancy talk. If I'm missing any tags, I'll add them later.
Summary: After the greatest news you can learn, fear starts to crawl under your skin, and with that, Steve starts growing suspicious about your behavior with Bruce Banner.
Author's Note: I'm sorry for posting so late. This weekend has been kicking my ass with no rest. But you can bet you will be having your monday chapter.<3
Thank you to my beautiful and wonderful @kileyking
The days had become exhausting; you constantly had to divide time between work, your brother, and making time to see Bucky a couple of days a week—and sleep in the process. Until finally, almost two months after the surgery, Tony was able to perfect the prosthesis that Derek would be using from now on.
"We may have to update it in a couple of years, since he's still growing..."
Banner began to explain. A slight sob escaped Darlene's lips.
"But we'll make sure he always has the best kind and always has the best at his disposal." Tony hurried to explain, placing his hands on Darlene’s shoulders.
Derek had spent the last few weeks learning to walk with the prototypes, so when he was finally able to use the official prosthesis, he felt completely confident walking without assistance.
"How do you feel?" You asked, looking at him calmly as you approached him.
"This is incredible. If only I could feel my legs, I'd think nothing had happened." He smiled at them. Bucky saw him from afar. He was happy he could live a normal life after all, even when he had been robbed of something that big.
Tony and Banner high-fived each other under the table. You smiled when you saw them like that. You approached them with a little embarrassment.
"I want to thank you for everything you've done for my family. It wouldn't have been so quick without you two." You placed your hands on his shoulders, stroking them tenderly.
"You took the bionic staring machine from us. I think it's the least we can do for you." Tony mumbled.
You all laughed.
"Joking aside. What your brother did was..."
"Stupid." Tony interrupted Banner.
"I was going to say incredibly brave, but stupid isn't that far from my thoughts." Banner smiled. "I think, like everyone else, he wanted to fulfill a mission that has been going on for decades and seems like it will never end."
"I think I owe you my entire life." You admitted and turned to look at Derek, who was showing his mother the mechanical movements the prosthetic could make.
"When Derek was born, I was four years old. My parents arrived with him, he was huge, I couldn't even carry him because he was so heavy..."
A tear ran down your cheek.
"My father died when I was at most sixteen, seventeen—barely recall. Dark moments.” You chuckled, “ Derek never knew, but my father made me promise that I would take care of him as if he were my own..."
"That must have been hard for an eighteen-year-old girl," Banner said.
"He was a man from another time with customs very different from those we live by today." You smiled nostalgically.
"Are we seeing a pattern here?" Tony joked. You couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"Since that day, I have guided Derek to do his best, always give his all, and we have succeeded. I’m also grateful that you didn’t let me see him when he first arrived. I’m sure my heart couldn’t have resisted that sight." You hugged both geniuses.
"You don't have to thank us."
Tony paused.
"But I've noticed that Steve, Sam, and Bucky have put on a few pounds since you came into their lives, and I need to see for myself that what you bake is really that wonderful."
"Count on it." You laughed again.
"Do you really have to do this?" Bucky asked, looking at your apartment being completely packed up.
"Jamie, I haven't touched the apartment in almost three months. I still don't know how long it will be before Derek decides what to do, but I think this is the best decision."
"But I'll hate whoever moves in here."
"No, you won't, because they are your only neighbor. They may not bake you cookies, but you'll try to be cordial to whoever the agency thinks is suitable for this apartment."
"And now?"
"We can say goodbye to the apartment as soon as they finish packing up my things." You whispered in his ear, and Bucky choked on his saliva in shock.
"You can't say things like that to me so deliberately." He pleaded, staring at you.
“I’m joking. I’m gonna be busy, and they are gonna take a while.” He stared at you—you were sure he could kill you with those eyes.
You were looking at the boxes around the place. You hated to see your place like that. You hated to have to say goodbye to it so suddenly. Bucky waited for you in the elevator with the last boxes he had grabbed.
He didn't know it, but in one of those boxes were your father's dog tags and the folder that you hadn’t dared to throw away a year ago.
"Where are you going?" Bucky asked as he put your belongings in the trunk.
"First, I'm going to drop these boxes off at my mom’s garage, and then I'm going to spend the afternoon with Lola."
"Will we see each other later?" he said as he watched you get into the car.
"As soon as possible."
He leaned in to kiss you on the lips.
When you got home, your brother was in the garden playing with a white ball of fur, a cat that looked like a white cloud in all its glory.
"What's that?" You asked.
"It was out here, and I decided to keep it company." Derek stroked the cat gently.
"You know mom is allergic, you'll have to take a bath as soon as you come inside." You walked with the boxes in your hands towards the garage.
"Could you help me find a home for her? I don't want anything to happen to her." You looked at the little white cloud resting in Derek's arms.
"How about a centenarian with a bionic arm?" You asked sarcastically.
"I think the bionic centenarian could use a cat." Both laughed out loud.
You took out your phone and dialed his number.
“Something happened? Do you need something?"
He hurriedly answered.
"Not technically, but I do need something."
"That sounds like it’s going to be a problem."
"Are super soldiers allergic to anything?"
A laugh came from the other end of the line.
"Not in my eighty years of life being such."
"Well, you and Derek are going to have a nice visit to the vet because you've just been selected to adopt a cat."
"I have no idea how to take care of a cat."
"My mom is allergic, and we refuse to leave the cat on the street."
A grunt came from the speaker.
"You'll be an excellent father to a snowball."
"Tell Derek I’ll be there in half an hour."
"I love you so much, Jamie."
You hung up the phone and turned back to Derek.
"Lola is waiting for me, but Jamie will be here any minute."
When you knocked on Lola's door, Lola came to the door looking a mess. Hair tied up on the crown of his head, teary and swollen eyes from crying.
"What happened to you?"
"Why aren't you in the same state as me? I thought you came to see me because of that." She frowned.
"What are you even talking about?"
"That we've been sharing period dates for almost five years. I can't believe you don't even feel any kind of discomfort right now."
A chill ran down your spine. You took out your phone to check your calendar. Lola wrinkled her nose and stared at you. You went into the living room and sat down on the couch with a blank expression.
"What's wrong?"
"We've been sharing periods for five years, Lola."
"Exactly what I just said." She sounded pissed off.
"And I haven't had my period this month."
"Well, you've been under a lot of stress with the whole thing with your brother, plus you and Bucky haven’t..." She was about to ramble, but you interrupted.
"Lola..."
That was all you managed to say before Lola's eyes widened.
"You've already had sex with him, and you didn't tell me?!"
"Lola, focus! That's not important." You clutched a pillow in your lap.
"Of course it's important! Not to mention that you've never been so irresponsible in your life as to not wear any kind of..."
The silence was heavy. Heavier than you would have liked.
Lola scolded your name in a shout. She stood up and walked towards her room, handing you three pink and white boxes as she came to the living room.
"Here, idiot."
The boxes fell into your lap, and you stared at them as if they were radioactive.
"I'm going to guess that you don't even remember your last period, let alone the last time you did it with protection."
“I—”
You were still in shock, unable to fully comprehend the words coming out of Lola's mouth.
She snapped her fingers in front of your face.
"Go pee on that damn stick, and then we'll make some decisions."
You nodded and walked to the bathroom.
First test
You and Lola stared at it until the small screen displayed: Pregnant 1-4.
You looked at each other in horror.
Second test
Same result.
"Do you want to take the third one?"
"Do you think it will make a difference?" Lola shook her head.
A thousand thoughts began to race through your mind. How would he take it? Was he ready for something like this? Would he be willing to start a family? What did pregnancy mean for someone with the serum? Everything was spinning around you as Lola looked at you from across the couch.
You took your cell phone out of your pocket and searched through your contacts for the only doctor who would understand the physical and emotional gravity of the situation at that moment: Bruce Banner.
"Hello, kiddo."
Banner's voice came through on the other end.
"Hi, Bruce. This—is going to be weird, but I need your help and... Jamie can't find out."
"Is your brother okay?"
"He's fine... It's me. Can I see you at the Tower or at your lab?"
"I'm at the Tower. If you want to come, I'll wait for you here."
"I'm on my way."
The cell phone rested on your lap for a couple of minutes.
"I have to go, Lola. I have to see Bruce."
"Do you need company?"
"Not for now, but I'll keep you posted." You hugged her tightly, a small tear escaping before you could stop it.
"Good afternoon, miss. Didn’t expect to see you. Do you want me to inform Mr. Stark that you are here?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke immediately upon noticing your entry into the building.
"No!" You spoke faster than you meant to. "Sorry. No. But can you tell me where Bruce is?"
"Dr. Banner is in his lab. Would you like me to inform him of your arrival?"
"Yes, please."
You arrived at the lab, where Banner was waiting for you at the door.
"I'm worried about you. What's going on?"
"If we talk here, will F.R.I.D.A.Y. hear us?" You whispered.
"Technically, yes, but she's more focused on monitoring other things, so unless I asked her to, she wouldn't pay much attention to our conversation."
"Okay... okay..."
You walked over to a swivel chair and sat down.
"Banner, how much do you know about the super serum?"
"What I need to know. What it can do to someone. What it did to me, what it did to Rogers and Barnes… Did something happen to Bucky?" You shook your head.
"Bruce, I don't know how to say this, but—I think I'm pregnant." The words trembled on your throat.
"Oh." Banner ran his hand down the back of his neck, understanding the complexity of everything that sentence implied. “That’s something I have never considered…”
"Could you run some tests for me?"
"Of course—just let me get a couple of things ready." He sounded preoccupied, almost hurried.
"Bruce... If Jamie asks, I came to talk about my brother."
"Bucky won't even know you were here, don't worry."
“Thank you, Banner.”
He guided you through the lab. “Do you want to try an ultrasound?”
"You have a way to do an ultrasound?" You raised your eyebrow.
"When Pepper was pregnant, Tony made sure we had everything we needed just in case."
He led you to another room in the lab. You lay down on a stretcher and lifted your shirt.
"Are you ready?" You nodded fearfully.
And before you could even say anything, a heartbeat was heard on the screen.
"I'm no expert in obstetrics, but I'd guess you’re... maybe... four weeks along?" You nodded. "Does that ring a bell?"
"Uh... I guess so. It's been… We've been... frequent?" Banner laughed awkwardly, shaking his head.
"I just want to know if the dates make sense and that the baby isn't growing at an exaggerated rate."
“Oh! Oh… Yes… Consistent…” You said ashamed. "What's next?"
"We'll wait for the results of your blood tests, and then we'll see what your next step will be."
You nodded. The silence was almost frightening.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm just... scared? I guess. I don't know how Bucky will react to this."
"I'm going to assume you weren't exactly planning this." Banner shook his head, smiling, trying to make you feel relaxed.
"Until a couple of months ago, we weren't even a couple." He rolled his eyes at your response.
"Everything will turn out as well as you hope it will." He helped you sit up in the stretcher after finishing the ultrasound.
Your cell phone began to ring. When you looked at the screen, it showed that it was Bucky.
Even though your chest hurt and you needed to hear his voice to feel that everything was okay, you decided not to answer.
"Don't you think he'll worry?"
"I don't dare to lie to him for so long."
A couple of minutes later, the results were ready, and Banner spent some time trying to interpret them.
"I repeat, I'm not an obstetrician, but everything looks fine, but you'd better find a specialist soon—and tell Bucky."
You nodded, looking at the floor.
"This is yours." He handed you the ultrasound printout, and you fell silent.
"And what am I supposed to do?" You looked at him like a deer in headlights.
"Look, I'll run a couple more tests and call you if we have any concerning results. I'll give you the number of a doctor who might be able to help us understand how to navigate this pregnancy and prepare you to break the news to Bucky."
You nodded nervously, your hands sweating as your breathing became erratic.
"You need to calm down. Everything will be fine, I promise."
He took you by the elbow to hug you, his hands stroking your hair as you tried not to break down completely at that moment.
"I’ll get in touch with that doctor, and we'll see each other soon at the lab. Let's start with small steps."
You were in your childhood bedroom, but in front of you, on the bed that had seen you growing up, the ultrasound printout staring back at you, angry, afraid, or at least that's how you felt. Your mind raced through all the possibilities. You knew Bucky was a good man, you trusted him blindly, but something inside you made you doubt whether he felt ready to take on something so big, something so beyond his control.
Your cell phone rang again. It was Bucky's third call of the day, and you couldn't keep ignoring him.
"Hello."
Your voice sounded shaky.
"Honey, what's wrong? I've been trying to call you all day. Steve told me he went to Lola's and you weren't there."
"No... I had to run a couple of errands, but I'm home now."
"Well, I'm here with the fur ball you decided was mine now. She's beautiful."
His voice sounded excited. You felt warmth in your chest.
"Does she have a name yet?"
"Alpine."
He said proudly.
"Alpine is a beautiful name, Jamie."
"I spent the whole afternoon looking for everything a cat needs, and then putting together her toys, she has a castle to scratch!"
"It looks like you're going to be an excellent father to Alpine."
That comment made a lump form in your throat.
"Is everything okay?"
"I'm just tired. Can we talk tomorrow?"
A tear rolled down your cheek. How were you going to wait that long to tell him?
"Of course. I love you."
"I love you too, Jamie."
The call ended. Bucky tried to ignore the pain in his chest as he sensed something was wrong, but before he could even pay attention to that pain, Alpine gently circled the head on the armrest of the chair. It seemed as if that cat had been born in the apartment and was the sole owner of the place.
"How are we going to make this work, Alpine?"
The cat purred a little before jumping into Bucky's lap.
"I don't think you need instructions on how to make us work."
"I think I can do it without help." Derek walked with his prosthetics, Steve looked into the distance while Banner and Tony wrote notes on a device.
You were by his side, holding your hand in the air, still unsure of everything that was happening.
"Give him a chance to do it himself." Bucky squeezed your waist, causing you to step back.
"I'm sorry, it's just..." Your eyes welled up.
"I know, I know—but he needs to try on his own, he’s the one who’s gonna live with it, and he needs to know how to deal with it."
"Promise me you won't let him fall?" You whispered in Bucky's ear. He stroked your back and nodded.
You sat down on the farthest armchair; it was the only way you could allow your brother to explore the improvements that had been made to the prosthetics.
Bucky talked to Derek as he moved across the room. You were beginning to appreciate those moments. You could even stop thinking for a moment about everything Derek was going through to have a normal life.
Everyone tried to help him. No one mentioned the prosthesis unless they were at the Tower and it was time for a checkup. Your brothers even tried to keep up their daily games—always trying to prevent any spectacular falls.
At one point, Derek tried to ask Bucky for advice on how to get used to his prosthesis. Everyone tensed up for a moment before Bucky just joked that maybe his mind was so busy with other things that it was almost natural. Derek immediately felt the guilt wash over him, and Bucky tried to brush it off, explaining to him about other things he could face having to use that kind of prosthesis.
The night before, you had cried in Bucky's room until you fell asleep. You had always wanted to suppress the idea of Bucky ‘getting used to’ his new limb while being tortured by HYDRA. And, although not comparable, the fact that your brother was now living a new life because of the same organization broke you into pieces every time it came back to your mind.
But before you could continue your session of self-loathing, Banner approached you, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"If you have a chance, I'd like you to come by the lab. There are a few things I want to check on."
You nodded without taking your eyes off your brother.
"Is it bad?" Banner shook his head.
Across the room, Steve couldn't help but notice the interaction. He knew that you and Banner were in constant contact because of Derek, but something behind it intrigued him, to say the least.
While the rest of the team checked the prosthesis, you followed Banner to the lab. On the desk were the lab reports Banner had made.
"What did you find out?" he said, leaning over as he looked through the papers.
"That you have a completely healthy baby. I was able to contact my colleague, who reviewed everything in the labs and is very interested in carrying your pregnancy."
He paused.
"Not as a test subject—I want to make that clear. He'll treat it like any other pregnancy he handles. He wasn't even interested in asking who the Super Soldier behind all this was."
You smiled. You knew you had made the right decision in choosing Banner to help you in such a confusing moment.
"Thank you so much, Bruce." You moved closer to hug him. Banner's arms wrapped around your shoulders.
However, the sound of the glass door sliding open caused them to slowly separate. You were able to hold back your tears before they began to flow freely again.
Bucky stood in the doorway, looking at you, trying to figure you out.
"Is everything okay?" You nodded.
"I was thanking him for everything you're doing for Derek."
Banner quickly picked up the papers from his desk and put them in a black folder. Bucky nodded and walked over, patting Banner on the back a couple of times. He knew exactly how much all of this meant to you.
"Ready to go?"
You nodded, and you both said goodbye.
The ride home was uncomfortable. You couldn't help feeling that twinge when you saw Steve's face, and he couldn't help showing his distress after seeing the interaction between Banner and you. You knew that he had the right to question what was going on—even if he was not going to do it directly.
Your mother helped Derek to get out of the car while Bucky held you by the waist.
“Are you sure everything’s alright? You seem off lately.” He looked down at you.
“Just tired, I think this is finally catching up on me.”
“You know you can talk to me, right?” His worried eyes were killing you.
“Of course I know, Jamie.” He nodded and pressed a kiss on your temple.
You and Banner really tried to be discreet; you really tried. But Steve, always so perceptive, noticed how you had slipped away a couple of times to the tower in recent weeks, how Banner seemed even more concerned about you than usual, asking about you every few days, trying to appear disinterested, but the drumming of his fingers, his lower lip between his teeth, and even that nervous laugh that characterized him did not help him to be subtle.
Bucky tried not to see the confusing signs.
One day, you could shower him with kisses, make him feel like nothing had changed, and the next day it could seem like Bucky had personally offended you just by breathing, only for you to spend hours crying over... really nothing at your next date.
This didn't help the anxiety he already carried on his shoulders, nor did it help the plan he had been scheming for days.
A plan he decided not to mention to anyone, not to Steve, knowing he was terrible at keeping secrets, nor to Natasha or Sam, knowing that none of them would let him live in peace after confessing that he had bought an engagement ring for you.
It wasn't something intrusive, nor was it something all of a sudden. He had thought about it since that first conscious kiss, since the time he saw you in front of the building where he lived in Brooklyn, the way you seemed like you belonged there, in his core memories, the way he would love to think that if he had met you back in time he would have wed you immediately, he would have won your father over and made him proud of you for marrying a man like him instead of… the reality you two lived in now. He started planning it since the first time he got the opportunity to feel you in such an intimate way on his couch. He knew you were the only person he wanted to have for the rest of his life.
Since he had been freed from all the Winter Soldier programming in Wakanda, he never believed he would lead a normal life, much less that he would find love in that life, and even much less that he would one day be shopping for the most beautiful engagement ring he had ever seen in his life.
He spent hours reviewing every detail.
He knew perfectly well that you liked ostentatious wedding rings, which was inconsistent with everything he knew about you. He knew this because you had spent almost thirty minutes admiring a friend's engagement ring, showing him the photo of the engagement announcement over and over again.
He made mental notes; every time a friend got engaged, or he saw a ring on your cell phone, he stored all the information.
And that's how he ended up spending hours in that jewelry store until he found it.
The diamond was round, set in four prongs, and the band resembled a vine. He couldn't even remember how much it had cost. He could have gone bankrupt at that moment, but he knew perfectly well that you would wear that ring with pride all over New York one day.
He knew perfectly well where you stood on marriage; he knew perfectly well that he was on sensitive ground. He didn't even understand why he had made that decision. He only knew that he was willing to risk everything to ensure himself a life by your side.
The antique-style box, made of marble with golden sparkles and floral decorations on the sides, rested on his kitchen counter. Flashy. Presumptuous.
Alpine approached it from time to time, and Bucky could swear she knew it was for you. That damn white ball of fur knocked everything off the counter except the ring. She would come over, look at it with curiosity, and Bucky could sense a hint of judgment from Alpine, only to then continue with her daily routine—terrorizing Bucky or whatever poor soul was visiting that day.
Nat would say that the cat came straight from hell. They fought so often that it seemed Alpine had a personal vendetta against her, just to be curled up on the couch a minute later, while Sam loved to be around the apartment with her over his shoulders.
One day, around mid-afternoon, Bucky collapsed. Alpine had decided that three in the morning was an excellent time to find her lost toy under the couch after weeks. It was that kind of toy that cried every time she bit it.
Without Bucky knowing, Steve arrived at his apartment. He just wanted to talk to him, to make sure that everything he was thinking wasn't really happening, as his mind kept circling his suspicions about you. He didn't want to have them; it was a fact. He wanted to believe that he was wrong about you, that Banner clearly wouldn't be capable of hurting Bucky that way.
But he couldn't stop thinking about it. Were you really capable of cheating on Bucky with Bruce Banner?
Days earlier
"What's the sudden interest in her?" Steve asked, really trying not to look too interested. Banner immediately tensed up.
"I've seen her very tense about the issue of her brother." He partially lied.
"Hmm, is that why she's been spending so much time in your lab without her brother?" Steve crossed his arms over his chest. Banner tried to laugh.
"Of course! Why else would it be?"
And with that, Banner left the lab. Both of you knew that what you were doing was risky and could cause a lot of misunderstandings, but you still didn't dare to be honest with Bucky.
And with that question and that memory wandering through his mind, there he was, knocking on Bucky's door for the third time... with no answer.
He decided to open it with his own key, and what greeted him was not a horror movie. It was that marbled box—open, dominant, exposed.
"What the hell?" Steve asked when he saw it.
He approached slowly, not touching it at first, not daring to.
This made his blood boil. Was his best friend willing to propose to someone who was probably cheating on him?
"Fuck." Bucky fell off the couch in surprise. "I can explain..."
"Buck..." The blond looked worried—he couldn't even fake happiness.
"I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you—I didn't know how. I don't even know if I will do it anytime soon."
Steve sat down on the stool in front of the bar; he couldn't take his eyes off that little box even if he wanted to.
"And are you sure you want it?"
"More than ever, Steve. She's the only person I can see spending another hundred years of my life with if necessary."
Steve could have sworn he saw red at that moment. He knew he had to confront you, but he needed more evidence than he had... which was none.
"Lola, for God's sake. I've never asked you for anything. I just want you to be honest with me." Steve pleaded on Lola's couch.
"Steven! For God's sake! I don't even know what you're implying." Lola stood up, trying to avoid his gaze.
"I'm just asking for honesty. What's going on between her and Bruce?" He took her arm lightly, just enough to make her look him in the eye.
"Nothing. He's helping them with Derek, and she's just being herself, showing her gratitude or venting to him."
Steve growled. He couldn't believe that even Lola couldn't be honest with him.
"Look... Steve... If you can't or won't trust her, which in itself is insulting, trust me when I tell you that nothing you're imagining is happening. It's just... something medical."
Lola knew how to manipulate the semantics behind her words so she wouldn't have to lie to Steve outright.
Steve wasn't entirely happy with that answer, but he was naive to think that Lola would somehow betray your trust.
"Do you know that I would do the same for Bucky as you would do for her?"
“Yes, and you have to trust me on this one—she’s… ugh… can you trust at least a bit?”
“It is not that I don't trust—it’s more than that.”
“Well, take it out of your mind—they are just having kind of medical appointments. And that’s it.”
He surrendered the topic at the moment, but both knew he would continue until he found something. Later, when he said goodbye to her a couple of hours later, Lola immediately called you.
"What's up?"
You were reviewing a file on your computer.
"I need you to do something right now. Steve is pressuring me."
"Just hang in there a little longer, I promise I'll do everything I can to get this done sooner than we planned... Just try to keep Steve in line. Please."
"I'll try, but you have to hurry. I can't stand lying to him so much."
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Series Masterlist
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: ~5.4k
Warning/Tags: Angst, Medical Inaccuracies, Light Smut, Winter Soldier Past Mentioned.
Summary: After facing a new repercussion from HYDRA yet, your life and Bucky's start to change slowly.
Author's Note: So, I did say that Bucky and her brothers were going to make it up... I never said HOW...
Days later, you swore that Bucky's scent was still lingering on your skin. You remembered that moment effortlessly, every touch, every sound that came out of both your throats, the couch so uncomfortable and yet so perfect at that moment.
You found yourself lost in your thoughts as you pretended to read a file, trying to focus on your work, really trying to do so. Time flew by every time you wrapped yourself in memories of that night. Even your colleagues seemed to notice that, at least that afternoon, you were not completely focused on your work.
When your shift ended—in a black car, more luxurious than the one Bucky usually drove, he was outside waiting for you with Steve.
Bucky looked tense, almost out of orbit. Steve was leaning against the back door; he didn't even dare to look you in the eye.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, smiling.
"Uh, we have to go to Stark’s." Bucky came over and kissed your forehead in greeting.
"Is something wrong?"
He wanted to lie, he was really about to do so, but Steve shook his head, staring at him.
"Yes, but I'd rather tell you when we get there."
You nodded without much choice and got into the car. Bucky opened the passenger door to get into the front seat. Steve sat behind in silence—it was the first time since you had known him that you felt he didn't dare to say anything. And that worried you more than anything else.
When you arrived, Tony was on the phone in the lab, checking the location of an airplane on a hologram in the middle of the room.
Tony stopped in his tracks when he saw you coming in, and hung up the phone without even saying goodbye, or at least you didn't notice if he did.
"What's going on?" You began to look around.
"Have they told you yet?" Tony asked in the most neutral voice you had ever heard. Steve and Bucky shook their heads.
"I need you to start talking, or I'm going to start worrying too much."
Tony took your hand, guiding you to one of the couches in the corner of the room.
Once there, you both sat down, and he began to caress your hand slowly, trying to ground you. You could tell that he was searching for the right words to deliver the message.
"Both your parents and mine were involved with HYDRA, knowingly or unknowingly— and that trace they've been researching for months had intelligence created by my father..."
Tony began to explain.
"Your brother confronted a couple of people who—didn't want them to find that intelligence—"
Your eyes began to well up, your chest burned, and your gaze sought out Bucky, who was already kneeling beside you, holding your hand.
"He is on his way—he will get here and will be treated—and we will do everything possible to minimize the aftereffects..."
"What happened to him?" Your voice came out in a whisper.
"We don't know yet."
"Can I call my family?" Tony nodded.
You got up immediately and walked towards the hallway. Bucky tried to follow you, but you refused.
“I need to do this on my own,” He nodded and stepped back, watching you walk away.
Steve and Tony watched from the couch where you had been sitting together a few seconds earlier.
"Her brothers were hiding all this from her, and they’re the first people she thinks to call after learning about it," Steve added with a hint of resentment in his tone.
"That's what sets her apart from all of them."
"Thanks for having me here, Tony." Bucky stared at him.
"All of us here have been hurt in some way by HYDRA. I think supporting the daughter of the man who dedicated his life to defeating HYDRA is the least I can do."
You returned with your arms crossed. "They're on their way. Is that okay, Tony?"
He nodded and smiled, “If you’re okay with it, I’m fine too.”
"How long until the plane arrives?"
"Less than an hour. The team is already waiting for it, so don't worry about anything except staying calm."
Your mother came running through the door, and the first thing you did was run towards her to embrace her. You were sobbing, uncontrollably, and she was stroking your hair while he murmured things in your ear.
Bucky stepped away from you for a few minutes; hearing your hurt voice made him feel a pang in his chest. There was nothing in the world he could do to take away the pain you were probably feeling at that moment.
He felt you were so powerful that seeing you so fragile made him feel helpless.
Your brothers came up behind you, turned to look at Bucky, and raised their chins to greet him. He responded in kind, and they both approached you to hug you the same way your mother had done.
Tony got into the lab to report that a few minutes earlier, Derek had landed and was on his way to have surgery a few floors below.
Bucky noticed your eyes immediately searching for him; before you could even open your lips, he was already walking towards you. When he finally reached you, he pulled you into his arms, your head resting on his chest, and Bucky just kept his lips on your hair.
"I can't promise you that everything will be okay, but I can promise you that whatever happens, we'll get through it together." His voice was muffled in your hair, his metal hand squeezing your back, while his human hand stroked your hair.
Noah and Robert approached you.
"I know—I know this isn't perfect timing, but... can we talk in private?"
Bucky looked back at you, and you nodded in response. He took you to your mother and then led your brothers to a meeting room. When they entered, Bucky closed the door behind him.
"We know we've been—complicated, we've treated her like a child and crossed a lot of boundaries by hiding what was going on with Derek," Robert began.
"But she told Mom what Tony is doing for Derek, and we know it was you who asked for it personally."
"I know perfectly well that Derek is so important to her and that she would never forgive herself if anything happened to him," Bucky added.
"And we appreciate you making an effort to make this the best possible scenario."
"Look... I don't expect us to be a happy family—or to pretend that we like each other—but at least I ask you to give her the chance to decide if I'm what she wants, to let her decide if all this discomfort is worth it."
Noah ran his hand through his hair, then reached out his right hand to Bucky.
"I think for now we can agree that we'll be at peace."
Bucky shook his hand and nodded.
The three of them left the meeting room, Bucky walking straight over to you—you were sitting on the couch with your mother. You had your hands clasped together, while your head rested on your mother's shoulder. Both of you were staring into space, as if that would allow you to escape your reality.
Bucky sat down next to you, and you let go of your mother’s hand to reach for his.
The hours passed in silence. Steve remained in a distant armchair, his hands clasped on his knees. Noah and Robert paced around the lab, trying to kill time. Darlene was about to collapse into the armchair, and you remained leaning on Bucky's shoulder.
"I've prepared rooms for each of you," Pepper approached you. You looked up, "I've also brought some food. You need to eat and rest. If there are any changes, F.R.I.D.A.Y. will let us know."
Bucky nodded and walked over to the men who were keeping watch.
"I know we're asking the impossible of you, but it's better if you rest. Steve and I will keep watch. Tony's security system will let us know if anything happens, but you all need to rest."
Darlene was already approaching them, stretching out her hands to invite them to walk.
"Just a couple of hours..." Darlene pleaded, and the men had no choice but to agree.
They left the lab, and Bucky noticed that you hadn't moved from the couch.
"That includes you, lady."
You sighed. "I don't want to sleep alone."
Bucky's lips parted for a second before he could even begin to stammer. Steve squeezed his shoulder in a sign of support.
"C’mon, we'll eat a little and then sleep." Bucky reached out your hand to guide you through the hallway.
After a somewhat obligatory dinner for everyone, Pepper showed all of you the rooms. In the room where you and Bucky would be staying, there was already a set of pajamas for each of you.
"Tony and Potts really know how to make people feel welcome," you joked, Bucky could still hear the rasp in your voice, as if you still had a knot in your throat.
After you got ready for bed, you lay down on the bed, your eyes fixed on the ceiling. Bucky slowly moved closer to embrace you carefully.
It was right there that you broke down—every tear you had held back began to flow, sobs filling the entire room, your hands clutching each side of Bucky, crying out in pain and muttering things Bucky didn't feel worthy of hearing.
This was the exact moment Raynor had asked him to be ready for, plenty of times. She always remarked on the way he would find himself facing the outcome of something that could trigger a bad memory. And, unfortunately, the way you sobbed just made him question how many times someone had faced this situation because of him.
After a few minutes in that state, you fell exhausted, your body tired enough to sleep for a couple of hours.
Silence reigned in the room. It could almost be forgotten that a couple of floors below, Derek was fighting for his life.
"Mr. Barnes," F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke quietly. "The procedure ended a couple of hours ago. Mr. Derek is stable and ready for visitors."
You immediately stood up, ran out of your room, and knocked on the other three doors where the rest of your family was staying. Tony, who, judging by his appearance, had also not slept, was already at the end of the hallway waiting for the family.
"This way." He led you to a different area of the tower. Noah held Darlene's hand while Robert hugged you by your shoulders as you walked, Bucky following a couple of feet behind.
Steve left the lab and matched Bucky's pace. Neither of them said anything; they just walked like guards behind you.
When you entered the recovery room, the sight was devastating. Derek had a breathing tube in his throat, his legs were completely bandaged and immobilized, and there were at least five machines connected to him. One nurse was injecting medication into Derek's catheter while another was writing in a file.
Without his uniform, without his frown, with his eyes closed and a false calm, it seemed that the years had not passed for him; he still looked like a child. And right there, Bucky could see even more clearly how much Derek and you resembled each other.
"What happened?" Darlene finally asked.
"He was caught in a hail of bullets," Tony began.
"A couple of bullets in the thoracic veins, one in an intercostal vein, were easy to control..."
He paused for a moment; there was no right way to break this news to the entire family.
"The problem was the bullets found in his legs. There was nerve damage, which... caused complete paralysis of the legs."
There was a deathly silence.
"This doesn't mean he won't walk again..." He began to speak quickly. "A couple of years ago, Rhodey had an accident with the same results. We will do everything possible to ensure he receives the same treatment, the same prosthetics. I will take care of it myself."
Your sobs could be heard throughout the room. Robert held you tightly in his arms, trying to stifle the cries coming from your throat.
"I'll give you a few minutes." Tony nodded and squeezed Darlene's shoulder in a gesture of support.
Bucky and Steve followed suit to give them privacy.
"Be honest, Stark," Bucky pleaded. "Tell me if there's really a chance."
"There is, we just... have to wait for him to wake up from the induced coma."
They both nodded.
The blue, red, and white flags waved in the air. Your father’s name and rank were engraved in the stone. He knew it was sick coming. That’s why he didn’t ask for any help; that’s why he researched on his own.
He was sure he would never feel anything as strong as he felt for you, and every time he saw you, he had to restrain himself from thinking about all those times he had faced your father and his elite members. Every time his handler would ask him to try to kill him, and every time he failed.
But now that he was in front of the grave, he could only think—had he really failed?
Did he fail the moment your father never stopped having those nightmares?
Did he fail the moment your father had decided to take his own life?
He sat in front of the grave. Staring at it was less painful than looking at Derek still in his hospital bed.
How was he supposed to have something with a man who got to see the worst of him?
Staring at your father’s grave reminded him of the times when he took Rebecca to his own father’s grave. The amount of time she spent there was painful.
It was a different time. He didn’t really cry. He was now the man of the house; he had to take care of his siblings, and his mother had to step up in so many things that women at that time were not used to.
“Barnes?” A voice took him out of his thoughts.
When he turned around, he found Darren looking at him, holding a few beers in his hand.
“Oh, Darren, right?” Bucky stood up and took a step back.
“He gave the best advice in the world,” Darren handed him a beer while he stared at the grave.
“Is that why you are here?” Bucky sipped on the beer.
“He was like a father to me. I basically grew up in his home. He and Darlene took me under their wings for so many years.”
Bucky furrowed his eyebrows; he remembered how you were telling him that he had cheated.
“I deserve that look—I was an idiot. And this is not a way to try to make me look better. I know she probably gave you her pink version of what happened.” Darren sat in front of the grave, and Bucky repeated the motion; now they were face to face with the grave in the middle.
“I don’t think I should be here.” Bucky looked at Darren.
“Why not?”
He was about to answer when Darren shook his head, “I know that you really believe what her brothers say, that you’re a monster and that their father would be blah blah blah—” He mocked just to start laughing. “Her father was a great man, but he was an even better soldier—and he taught them well—and you can never take the soldier out of the man.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“Well, that’s why they are so stuck in their idea of you.”
“They took the man out of the soldier,” Bucky answered, looking at him.
“No, they didn’t—if they had succeeded on that, you wouldn’t be here feeling wrong about a man who fought you for years back in time.”
“Darren, why are you telling me all this?” Bucky finally questioned.
“When Derek’s situation was announced, this was the first place I knew I wanted to visit. I’m not that close to her family anymore. Out of respect, you know?”
Bucky hummed in confirmation.
“But this man was like my father… and then the fact that you—from anyone else—is here… talks a lot about your feelings for her.”
He sighed and sipped on his beer.
“I just… I feel guilty. I was HYDRA's fist for decades.”
“Not because you decided it. Look, I'm a soldier too. We do things because it's our command. That doesn't mean it's right or because we want to.”
Bucky furrowed, trying not to look at Darren. Somehow, looking at him felt bad, like he was doing something wrong.
“You’re not doing anything wrong by loving her. Quite the opposite. She looks so great now, more confident—she looks like she doesn’t need you.”
“‘Cause she doesn’t.” Bucky interfered.
“Exactly, and that was something I didn’t like. I was taught to be the strong man, the man that had the last word, the man of the house… and she didn’t want that...” Darren stood up, “I think this is becoming a pity party, and I know you didn’t come here for that.”
Bucky chuckled, not even he knew why he was there.
“Darren,” Bucky spoke. “If someone asks…”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Darren smiled and went his way.
The days passed painfully slowly at the Tower. Bucky would return to the apartment only to pick up some clothes for both of you, while you tried to get on with your life by going to work. This kept your mind occupied while Derek woke up from the induced coma.
Bucky used to stay when everyone left for their daily activities. He and Darlene used to take turns staying in the room, even when Potts offered them a full-time nurse.
It wasn't a matter of lack of staff or help; Darlene couldn't allow her son to wake up and not see someone he knew.
Four days later, it happened. Darlene was reading on the couch next to Derek's bed when she heard a small sound come from her son's throat. She stood up immediately, trying to figure out what to do.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y," Darlene said nervously, still not used to talking to nothing.
"The doctors are on their way, and your family has been notified."
A couple of doctors came in to check his vital signs on the stretcher. A nurse took her by the arm and asked her to wait outside. Bucky was walking down the hall when he saw Darlene hugging herself.
He walked faster till he got to her.
"He'll be fine," he said, stroking Darlene's arm, "this is a great sign."
Half an hour later, you came running down that same hallway, heels in hand, hair pulled back, and eyes red from crying. You crashed into Bucky, and his hand held you by your waist the moment you stopped on your tracks.
"We still don't have an answer, but as soon as there's an update, we'll know."
The following days were encouraging for everyone. Derek was beginning to respond to stimulation, and the doctors gave the family high hopes.
Just three weeks later, Derek was back at his mother's house to continue his medical rehabilitation.
The ride to Darlene's house was quiet. Derek was in the back of Bucky's car, you were in the passenger seat, and Darlene was gently holding Derek's hand.
Upon arriving at your mother’s house, Bucky helped lower the wheelchair and immediately helped Derek sit in it.
“Careful there,” Bucky secured him in his wheelchair. Everyone could notice how ashamed Derek was acting around Bucky.
Something that Bucky wanted to avoid at all costs. Somehow, he felt this was a debt he needed to pay.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Bucky asked as he helped you pack bags in your apartment.
He noticed the way your eyebrows knitted in the middle.
"Of course I'll be fine! My brother needs my support, and I need to be fine."
"That wasn't the question… You know that."
You sighed.
"I don't know if I'll be okay, honey." That slipped out of your mouth without you realizing it, and Bucky's heart skipped a beat. "But I have to be—at least until everything settles down and he can feel like his life is his own again.”.
Bucky nodded, fully intending to protest, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears. There was nothing he could do but support you. You had decided to stay at your mother's house until the prosthesis Tony was creating for Derek was ready and fully functional—and that could take months, but you weren't willing to be away from him again.
When you arrived, Derek was sitting in an armchair, and you could see a little more life in his eyes, a little more desire to keep fighting.
"Bucky." Derek's voice was almost a whisper.
"Derek, how are you?" He smiled as he carried your bags.
"Much better..." That sentence hung in the air, as if something else needed to be said.
"I think we'll take care of this."
Darlene said, taking the bags from his hands. Before he could protest, both of you disappeared up the house's stairs. Bucky snorted and walked slowly over to Derek, who was playing with the little blanket that Darlene used to leave on the couch ‘just in case.’
"Bucky, I want to apologize." Derek finally spoke.
"No, kiddo. This isn't the time for that." Bucky intervened, but Derek stopped him.
"The months I spent in Siberia helped me understand your background a little better, to understand what you and everyone else who fell into HYDRA's clutches went through. Not just what the media and... the higher-ups wanted us to see."
Bucky sighed.
"Do you know why I volunteered for this mission?" He shook his head. "Not just for the honor of working on a mission my father led decades ago, but also because I needed to know more about you—not you—but who they forced you to be."
"You didn't have to risk your life for that, kid."
"Yes, I did. There was no other way my stubborn mind could understand what you went through. Bucky, my sister, is the most important thing in my life, and I've spent the last year disrespecting her just ‘cause I couldn't see beyond what I've learned throughout my life." Bucky’s jaw tightened.
"I think if anyone can understand you, it's me, Derek. We're fine, no apology needed, and we can move forward in peace for the love we both have for your sister."
Derek twitched a smile. It was the first time in years he heard a man confess his love for you to him. And somehow, he couldn’t feel happier for you.
"Adding that there's no other way to do it, we'll see each other often until you're ready to go back out into the world," Bucky added. Derek chuckled and nodded.
When you and your mother finally came down, you sat next to him, and his hand fell on your knee, his thumb caressed your knee carefully and fondly. Darlene smiled at the sight—she could notice how Bucky didn’t make himself look bigger or make you look like someone who needed to be protected.
For the first time, she saw you accompanied by a man who didn’t see you as property of his own; she saw you completely surrendering to your feelings for him after that much time wasted on avoiding them.
You rested on Bucky's couch while he picked up food at the entrance of the building. The dark circles under your eyes showed how much work you had done in recent weeks. Between taking care of Derek, not neglecting your patients, visiting Bucky, and keeping things relaxed between everyone at home, your peace of mind had been reduced to zero.
"Honey, are you okay?" Bucky asked from the doorway. You just nodded in response.
"I'm just a little tired."
"A little tired is an understatement. I can see the dark circles under your eyes."
"I know, but every time we see progress with Derek... He just... takes a step back."
"Everything will be fine, it's just a matter of time for everyone."
You nodded, although deep down you weren't sure you believed his words, but you wanted to, you wanted to believe he could be right.
"Is there anything I can do to help you?"
He sat down on the couch, and before he could say anything, you slowly stood up and immediately collapsed into his lap. Your legs wrapped around Bucky's waist, while your hands embraced his neck.
Bucky calmly squeezed your waist, almost savoring the moment.
The privacy you had enjoyed for months was now almost impossible to achieve. You didn't allow yourself these moments of calm, thinking that perhaps your brothers or your mother needed help with Derek. Even when everyone asked you to take a few minutes—or rather, a few days—for yourself.
You lifted your head to face him and, without warning, your lips collided with his. Your hands caressed the back of his neck, your legs anchored themselves more firmly to his waist, and the need to feel him close was even greater than any tiredness you might have felt.
"You're tired. I think it's best if you take a nap." He murmured between kisses, trying to keep what little composure he had left as he felt your body on top of him.
"Just a minute," you murmured, pulling away only an inch from his lips.
Bucky began to caress your back as he inhaled your perfume. "It's not fair, you know perfectly well that this... I’m not strong enough to stop you."
"Do you really want me to stop?" you asked as your lips moved down to Bucky's neck.
"I want you to rest." A small moan escaped his lips.
"I promise I'll rest better after this."
Bucky stood up, holding you with one arm as he walked to the bedroom.
His arms anchored to your waist while your legs wrapped around his body, letting your core rub on his clothed bulge. He finally laid you down on the bed, and knelt over you, his legs spreading yours, while his hands worked your jeans. You closed your eyes and let him pull down your jeans. His hands traveled from your knee to the most sensitive spot on your thighs.
He towered over you while his hand rested on your thigh, “Let me take care of you.” You nodded and looked at his eyes. "You know perfectly well that if you don't go back today, no one will blame you." You growled as a response.
"I know, I just... I still feel guilty." He caressed your waist, playing with the fabric that covered your intimacy.
"You know absolutely nothing that happened is your fault. And I know perfectly well that no one has made you feel this way."
"Tell that to the anxiety in my chest."
"Spend the night here. I promise I'll go check on your brother tomorrow morning. Just stay here tonight. I've missed you like crazy."
"What if my brother needs something?" Bucky began to climb on top of you, completely enveloping you with his body.
"Then I'll put you on my motorcycle and in less than twenty minutes we'll be at your mother's house." He began kissing your forehead and cheeks.
"Do you promise?"
"It could be ten minutes if I wasn't afraid of hurting you on the way."
Your legs wrapped around Bucky's waist again as you closed your eyes. He kept depositing kisses on your face.
"And to think that you didn't even want to hold my gaze in the elevator over a year ago."
Bucky growled, burying his face in your neck.
"You're a stubborn, persistent woman who wouldn't leave me alone until I was at your feet."
"I wanna issue an apology, but all I did was say hello to my new neighbor and give him the treatment any neighbor deserved."
You both laughed.
"I love you so much."
"And I love you, Jamie."
He snorted with laughter. "Do you know how I know you got exactly what you wanted?" You raised an eyebrow, "because I asked you more than once not to call me Jamie, and you've spent all this time saying it over and over again because you know perfectly well that I won't say anything to you for doing so."
You laughed.
"I should have accepted Tony's bribe to tell him what nickname I used with you."
He scoffed a laugh that made your legs tighten a little more around his waist, only to begin attacking your neck and cheeks with short kisses immediately.
His hands finally worked your clothes, making you get rid of them while you hurriedly unbuckled his belt. You were giggling through the whole messy dance you both were performing, trying to make it right.
You were finally completely naked in front of him, both his arms to your sides, chest coming up and down while he tried not to seem too desperate for you. He was stroking himself slowly while he lined himself to your core, “I’m gonna do it slowly.”
“Jamie, we’ve been here before.” You giggled, and he pressed his forehead against yours.
“That doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop caring if you need it slow or carefully.”
He finally started to slide in—his tip stretching your hole with a slow pace that got you tilting your head back and shutting your eyes. Your hands found his back while he pumped you full. His continuous panting made you feel in paradise. How was it possible that someone who seemed this rough could make such sweet noises? And he was trying so hard not to make his pace faster and hurt you. He was set up on the idea of taking care of you, and that meant even when his most primal senses were asking for more.
You noticed the way he furrowed every time his pace became relentless and cupped his head, “Jamie… Let yourself go. I can handle you.”
He grunted, “No. It’s fine. I’m doing great.” You scoffed, a small laugh leaving your lips.
“Please. I can handle a little rough if you need it.”
“If it feels like too much, you’re gonna stop me immediately.” You nodded, he adjusted himself, and your hands gripped his sides a little bit harder.
He started at the same pace, slow but nice. Then, he started to shove his cock even faster, his hips plunging against yours with no fear. You knew this was going to hurt tomorrow—you knew your legs were going to be a cramping mess as soon as you woke up, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to be in you; you had waited so long without even realizing you wanted this that you needed him to feel as much as you could, and you knew that he was probably forcing himself to be slower than he would probably need.
He was losing his mind, buried in you, having you so good under him made him believe how much time he had wasted on pretending he didn’t have all those feelings for you. He was hiding his face in the crook of your neck, hitched breathing filling up your ears while your hands found the back of his neck, caressing that strong spot, mumbling things into his ear.
The climax washed over you; you were even feeling dizzy from the feeling—he was about to pull out, and you straddled him, locking him.
“What are you doing?” His voice trembled; you didn’t even have the energy to answer, you just didn’t want him to be far from you at that moment. You didn’t want to miss the heat his body expelled.
He crumbled over you; your chest could barely contain your beating heart as you tried to ease your breathing. You fell asleep before anything could be said or done, you just felt his body crawling to your side and tugging you on his chest. In the morning, your legs still felt like jelly, and Bucky's fingers had left marks on your hip even though he had tried to be careful.
"Sorry, I got a little carried away last night." You both laughed.
Next Part.
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to celebrate captain america’s birthday, let's throw it back to soft summer days, backyard picnics, and golden hour love stories for the full month of july 🧺☀️
welcome to picnic blanket prompts—a low-pressure, fluff-forward mini writing collab inspired by everything you’d find scattered across a summer picnic blanket 🍉🍓🍋
so grab a spot and come write!
── 💫 HOW IT WORKS
each prompt is based after a picnic/summer item, and is paired with some themes & dialogue ideas—pick one (or more!) and create a fic, drabble, or blurb inspired by it OR take a spin at the wheels to let it decide for you!
── 💌 WHO CAN JOIN
anyone! all pairings, x readers, ships, platonic, oc etc. are welcome (marvel encouraged, but not required!)
── 🏷️ TAG YOUR WORK
#picnic blanket prompts
#cap's birthday collab
#a star spangled summer
(use any of these + tag me so i can read & rb!)
── 🗣️ FAQS
📅 do i have to post on a specific day?
nope! post anytime during the month of july (late entries are always welcome—we’re here for vibes, not deadlines)
🤍 does my work have to be just fluffy?
not at all! fluff, angst, bittersweet, smut—all are welcome just make sure you tag all 18+ content accordingly (NO DDDNE/dark/taboo themes) if you think your fic crosses this line, shoot me a dm!
📝 can i write more than one?
absolutely!! this collab doesn't have any hard limits on entries and has more than 50 prompts and dialogue lines to choose from so if inspiration hits again and again, let it rip!
☀️ what if i don’t finish in time?
you can still post it! this collab is meant to feel like summer, a little loose, a little slow, and always ongoing 🌻
🧺 can i combine prompts?
yes please—some of the best ideas come from mixing them
(think: 🍋 + 🚗 + 🎆 for all the sweet spots)
and now for the drumroll...
✨ THE PROMPTS, THEMES + THEIR MATCHING DIALOGUE
if you don't want to manually pick a prompt/dialogue take a look at these wheels and give 'em a spin! this makes it easier to mix and match but if you'd like the corresponding ones check below!
THEME + PROMPT WHEEL | DIALOGUE WHEEL
💤 FALLING ASLEEP ON THEM
unintentional closeness
→ realization / softness / caretaking
💤 "Have a nice nap?" / "I thought you were going to sleep forever." / "Shh, go back to sleep baby."
🌙 GOLDEN HOUR
that in between moment
→ realization scenes / soft almosts / quiet tension
🌙 “It’s weird… everything looks different right now. You do too.” / “If I say something, will it ruin this?” / “We should probably go. - Yeah… just—give me a second.”
🧺 PICNIC BASKET
something hidden inside
→ secrets revealed / gifts / unexpected confessions
🧺 “That wasn’t in there earlier. - “Yeah. I didn’t know how to give it to you.” / “You brought this… for me?” / “If I show you, you can’t pretend you didn’t see it.”
🪑SAVED SEAT
someone always leaves space for you
→ quiet devotion / unspoken care / to be loved is to be known
🪑 “You always sit there. - Only when you’re here.” / “Was this—saved? - “It usually is.” / “I didn’t think you’d come. - “I didn’t think you’d leave me a spot.”
🌌 FIREWORKS ENDING
silence after the noise
→ emotional comedown / realization / loneliness or peace
🌌 “It’s really quiet now.” / “I liked it better when I couldn’t hear myself think.” / “So… what happens after this?”
☀️ SUNBURN
caretaking + vulnerability
→ tending to someone / soft touches / quiet intimacy
☀️ “Hold still—you’re gonna make it worse.” / “You don’t have to take care of me like this. - I know.” / “Does it hurt? - Not as much as you hovering.”
🍴 "TRY MINE"
sharing food & sharing space
→ intimacy / trust / soft flirting
🍴 “Here—just take it. - “I could’ve asked. - You never do.” / “You always give me the better one.” / “Try it? For me?”
🪑 FOLD OUT CHAIRS
side by side conversations
→ late-night talks / emotional honesty
🪑 “Funny how it’s easier to say things when we’re not looking at each other.” / “We’ve never actually talked about this, have we?” / “If I say it now, I can’t take it back.”
🛏️ AFTERNOON NAP
lazy, quiet closeness
→ drifting in and out of sleep together / accidental cuddling
🛏️ “You’re still here. - “Wasn’t planning on moving.” / “Did I fall asleep on you? - “Yeah… didn’t mind.”/ “We should get up. -“In a minute.”
⏳ WAITING
for them to show up + change
→ doubt / hope / payoff reunion
⏳“You said you’d come back.” / “I almost stopped waiting. - “Almost?” / “You’re late. - “I know. I’m still here.”
🧃 JUICE BOX
playful, youthful energy
→ carefree chaos / laughter / childhood nostalgia
🧃 “You just sprayed that everywhere. - Worth it.” / “When did we start acting like kids again?” / “Don’t laugh—I’m serious. - “That’s the problem.”
🌾 TALL GRASS
half-hidden, tucked away
→ private conversations / secret kisses / hiding from others
🌾 “No one can see us out here.” / “We shouldn’t be hiding. - “Then why are we?” / “It feels different when it’s just us.”
🕶️ SUNGLASSES
seeing + not seeing
→ stolen glances / hiding feelings / perception vs reality
🕶️ “I can tell you’re staring. - You can’t even see my eyes.” / “You hide behind those a lot. - “Maybe I need to.” / “Take them off. - “Why?“ - So I know what you’re thinking.”
🧁 CUPCAKES
small celebrations
→ “it’s not a big deal” birthdays / quiet milestones / soft surprises
🧁 “It’s not a big deal. - “Then why’d you remember?” / “You got these for me? - “Don’t make it weird.” / “Make a wish. - “You already know what it is.”
🪵 WOODEN FENCE
leaning, waiting
→ watching from afar / longing / quiet observation
🪵 “You’ve been standing there a while.” / “I didn’t think you’d notice me.” / “You always look like you’re about to leave.”
🧂 POTATO CHIPS
light, messy, impossible to eat just one
→ casual closeness / reaching into the same bag / lingering touches
🧂 “You’re gonna finish the whole bag. - “Watch me.” / "My hand was already there. - “So was mine.” / “You don’t mind sharing? - Not with you.”
🎆 FIREWORKS
big emotions, louder than expected
→ confessions / overwhelm / emotional release
🎆 “I can’t hear you—what did you say?” / “I said I—” boom / “Fine. I’ll say it again.”
🍽️ PAPER PLATES
temporary but meaningful
→ fleeting moments that still matter / this won’t last, but it’s real
🍽️ “This is kind of temporary, isn’t it?” / “Does it matter if it is?” / “I think I’d still choose this.”
🔕 MISSED CALL
almost connection, the one that got away
→ timing issues / regret / what could’ve been
🔕 “I tried calling. - “I know.” / “Why didn’t you pick up? - “I didn’t know what to say.” / “You were supposed to be there.”
🍦MELTING ICE CREAM
time running out + fleeting moment
→ rushed confession / “before it’s too late” energy
🍦 “It’s gonna melt. - “Then say it faster.” / “We’re running out of time. - “Then don’t waste it.” / “Just—before it’s gone…”
💫 WATCHING THE STARS TOGETHER
sneaky love + soft touches
→ falling asleep together / naming the stars after each other / forced (welcomed) proximity
💫 “That one’s yours. - “You can’t just claim stars.” / “You’re closer than you think.” / “If we stay like this, I might fall asleep. - “Then stay.”
⛺ BONFIRE
warmth in the dark
→ storytelling / vulnerability / shared silence
⛺ “You don’t have to tell the whole story.” / “It’s easier in the dark.” / “I didn’t think anyone was listening. - “I always am.”
🌊 LATE NIGHT LAKE SWIM
daring love + hidden feelings
→ romantic tension / almost confessions
🌊 “It’s freezing. - “You jumped in first.” / “You look different out here.” / “If I say something stupid, blame the cold water.”
🍯 HONEY
slow, golden, lingering
→ drawn-out tension / soft touches that last too long
🍯 “You’re taking your time. - “I’m not in a hurry.” / “You always do that—linger.” / “Say it already. - “Not yet.”
🎇 FIRECRACKER
sudden, sharp reaction
→ arguments / impulsive confessions / tension snapping
🎇 “Why are you acting like this?” / “Because you won’t just say it!” / “Fine—then listen.”
📸 DISPOSABLE CAMERA
captured moments
→ memories / realizing feelings after the fact / almost too late
📸 “Don’t delete that. - “I wasn’t going to.” / “You kept all of these? - “Every single one.” / “That’s when it started, wasn’t it?”
🌧️ SUDDEN RAIN
plans interrupted
→ running for cover / laughter / forced closeness
🌧️ “Run! - “Where?”/ “You’re soaked." -“So are you.” / “We should’ve checked the weather.” - “I’m glad we didn’t.”
🌳 SHADED TREE
relief from the heat
→ safe space / emotional grounding / leaning on someone
🌳 “Come sit. You look like you need it.” / “It’s cooler here.” - “Stay, then.” / “You always find the quiet spots.”
🐜 ANTS
tiny annoyance crowding into a big moment
→ interrupted confession / forced proximity / comedic tension
🐜“Don’t move—there’s—” / “Why are you so close?” - “Because you won’t stop moving.” / “This is not how I pictured this going.”
🍓 STRAWBERRIES
soft, indulgent, a little romantic
→ feeding each other / quiet affection / yearning
🍓 “Here—try it like this.” / “You’re staring.” - “You make it hard not to.” / “You always give me the sweeter ones.”
✨ SPARKLERS
brief but bright
→ momentary romance / realization of feelings / magical moment
✨ “It won’t last long.” / “Then don’t waste it.” / “Look at you—you’re glowing.”
🎡 CARNIVAL NEARBY
distant music and lights
→ yearning / wanting something more / chasing a feeling
🎡 “We could go, you know.” - “Or we could stay.” / “You ever feel like you’re missing something?” / “I think this is enough.”
🍋 LEMONADE
something sour turning soft
→ enemies to lovers lite / misunderstandings / emotional resolution
🍋 “You don’t hate me that much, do you?” / “It gets better, I promise.” / "Flirting? Me? I wouldn't call it that."
💛 BEFORE THE SUN GOES DOWN
aware of fleeting happiness + trying to memorize the moment
→ noticing details / fear of losing it
💛 “You’re doing that thing again.” - “What thing?” - “Trying not to forget.” / “Say something so I remember this right.” / “I wish I could pause this.”
📦 LEFTOVERS
what’s left behind
→ memories / things unsaid / emotional residue
📦 “You can take this with you."/ “Feels weird packing it up." /“Not everything gets finished.”
☕ MORNING AFTER PICNIC
soft aftermath
→ quiet conversation / reflection / “we should do this again”
☕ “We should probably talk about yesterday.” / “Do you have to go?” / “Same time next week?”
🧻 NAPKINS
cleaning up a mess
→ vulnerability after something goes wrong / wiping tears / gentle care
🧻 “Hey—look at me.” / “It’s just a mess. We’ll fix it.” / “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay.”
🍉 WATERMELON
sticky fingers, shared bites, sweetness that lingers
→ first kisses / almost kisses / teasing intimacy
🍉 “You’ve got juice all over your hands.” / “Then help me clean it.” / “You missed a spot.”
🍞BRUSHING NON-EXISTENT CRUMBS OFF
crushing hard + scared to admit it
→ lingering touch / excuse for contact / care disguised as habit
🍞 “Hold still.” / “There’s nothing there.” - “I know.” / “You don’t have to find excuses.”
🌬️ SUMMER BREEZE
soft, barely there
→ almost touches / words left unsaid / quiet longing
🌬️ “Did you feel that?” / “You almost touched me.” / “Almost doesn’t count.”
🚗 IN THE TRUCK BED
open air, close proximity
→ stargazing / late-night talks / accidental intimacy
🚗 “There’s more space than I thought.” - “Not really.” / “You can lean if you want.” / “Don’t fall.” - “Then don’t move.”
🫙WATCHING THE FIREFLIES COME OUT
summer crush
→ not realizing how close the other is / brushing hands
🫙 “You’re closer than you were a second ago.” / “Don’t scare them off.” / “I wasn’t looking at the fireflies.”
💬 OVERHEARD CONVERSATION
something you weren’t supposed to hear
→ misunderstandings / accidental confessions
💬 “How long were you standing there?” / “Long enough.” / “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
🏡 BACKYARD LIGHTS
soft glow at night
→ slow dancing / late-night confessions / lingering after everyone leaves
🏡 “Dance with me.” - “There’s no music.” - “There doesn’t have to be.” / “Stay until they turn off.” / “Just one more song.”
🎈WATER BALLOON FIGHT
chaotic love + messy aftermath
→ picking pieces from their hair / hanging up wet clothes / sharing a towel
🎈 “You started it!” - “You escalated it!” / “You’re soaked.” - “So are you.” / “Come here—hold still.”
🥗 PASTA SALAD
thrown together but somehow perfect
→ unlikely dynamics / found family / chaotic group settings
🥗 “This shouldn’t work, but it does.” / “Kind of like us.” / “Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing.”
🍒 CHERRIES
sweet with a hint of tension
→ playful teasing / “tie the stem” flirting / building tension
🍒 “You’re not actually going to try that, are you?” / “Watch me.” / “You’re unbelievable.”
🧺 PACKING THE PICNIC
preparation as love
→ doing things for someone before they even ask
🧺 “You already thought of everything.” / “I know what you like.” / “You didn’t have to do all this.” - “I wanted to.”
🌻 WILDFLOWERS
simple, soft, meaningful
→ “i saw this and thought of you” / gentle love
🌻 “These aren’t anything special.” - “They are to me.” / “You picked these?” - “I saw them and—yeah.” / “You think of me when you’re not here?”
🌅 LAST SUMMER TOGETHER
knowing it’s ending
→ goodbye energy / nostalgia / unresolved feelings
🌅 “Let’s not talk about what happens after.” / “Just this once, okay?” / “I’m going to miss this.”
🚶 WALKING AWAY
choosing distance
→ self-protection / heartbreak / growth
🚶 “Don’t follow me.” / “If I stay again, I won’t leave at all.” / “This isn’t me giving up.”
🎶 PORTABLE RADIO
music drifting through the air
→ dancing / memory-triggered moments / song-associated love
🎶 “You remember this song?” / “Don’t laugh—dance with me.” / “We used to—” - “I know.”
🥪 SANDWHICHES
carefully made, quietly thoughtful
→ acts of service / knowing someone’s preferences / domestic intimacy
🥪 “You cut the crusts off.” - “You hate them.” / “You remembered that?” / “I always do.”
🤝 “WE'RE JUST FRIENDS”
until it’s clearly not
→ blurred lines / tension / denial
🤝 “We’re not doing anything wrong.” / “Then why does it feel like we are?” / “Say it—we’re just friends.”
🧊 COOLER
what’s kept hidden
→ secrets / things unsaid / emotional walls
🧊 “What else are you keeping in there?” / “Stuff you’re not ready for.” / “You don’t have to hide it from me."
✨ anything else i should know?
just this: take your time, enjoy the process, and don’t overthink it
this collab is about capturing a feeling. something warm, fleeting, and worth holding onto 🌼
for any more questions/curiosities feel free to send a message my way so we can figure it out! thank you all so much and i can't wait to see what you guys write!
throwing a few tags out there, don't feel pressured into doing anything i just thought i would spread the word and make the blanket big enough for us all ✨
pairing: robert "bob" reynolds x f!reader
synopsis: you're used to bob being away for long stretches, but this time he's left you with a gift — and what better time to use it than when you finally get him on the phone.
content: [18+ MDNI!!] phone sex baby, female masturbation, implied male masturbation, semi-public sorta kinda
word count: 3.5k
taglist: @fandomxo, @hallowedactias, @cillixn, @magicwithaknife, @xxsquiddkiddxx, @mornomn, @theoriginalfemmebot, @laniec03, @kitkatkaitin, @raidstarz, @hoodharlow, @someblessedmonster, @cassandakillian, @everydaydreamer, @heliosphere8, @adoringanakin, @mossmydarling, @she-sounds-hidieous, @dracuula98, @1eliana123-blog
author's note: oh bobert... i love u. i missed writing bob smut we are about to get more bobbed out RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!!! also of course i used the greatest ldr theme song in tha world... this got me thru my first relationship soulja boy and sammie if u see this u really changed the game!! anyways enough rambling ... if u enjoyed this please feel free to leave a comment, reblog, or even send an ask <3 love u all!
main masterlist ☆ join my taglist
Of all the things that come with dating a superhero, the loneliness is the one you’re least prepared for. You knew it would come — after all, you had chosen to date the Golden Guardian of Good. He was plastered across cereal boxes everywhere, a Spirit Halloween mainstay once he’d been properly introduced to the general public, and carried the hope of many people who had questions after the Avengers had seemingly upped and left to protect and defend other corners of the galaxy, but no amount of knowledge and acceptance could make up for the fact that sometimes you just wanted to be with your boyfriend.
You wanted to settle in for a cosy date night without worrying about an alert going off. You didn’t even mind the spontaneous situations. Civilians taken hostage, or runaway bank robbers, or rogue superpowered individuals. You always knew he’d be back before the night ended in those cases — the perks of being genetically engineered to be stronger than strong.
It was the covert missions that were the problem. The days, weeks, sometimes month-and-a-bit long operations that kept him out of sight and out of your arms. Phone calls were rare, if ever and you never knew what he was doing. Sometimes he’d come back visibly rattled, gaps in his memory that took weeks to fill and the intense guilt that followed after.
You hated these, and almost yearned for the days Bob was still considered too volatile to go on them, but as his control had gotten better, he was being asked to go for more and more of these missions. The cruelest part? Unless the other side had someone with unique abilities, he was always on standby, left to wallow in a room in a safe house in case the team genuinely needed him, but expected to follow all the same rules: stay out of sight, no phones, no leaving without permission. Sometimes he was allowed to call, but it was always short and to the point — they could never risk giving away their location.
The only thing that made it marginally better was knowing he was safe. Actually safe, not safe-because-he’s-strong.
You’re on week three of what’s meant to be a six week stint, and the longing is so bad you’ve buried yourself in Bob’s sheets dressed in nothing but one of his old shirts. His scent has long faded but it feels good to be surrounded by him in some way. Something plays on the TV, an old comedy with poorly aged jokes and a laugh track to match when your phone rings, an unknown number flashing across the screen.
Relief washes through you when you hear Bob’s voice through your earbuds, confident at first then more hesitant when you don’t immediately answer. He can’t see you but you sit up straight anyways, smoothing over the bottom of his shirt while you organise your thoughts. Calls like these were always short; you didn’t have time to waste on fumbling through greetings.
“Hi, I thought I’d be waiting at least another week,” you joke.
“Snuck away. Far away.”
“And what if the team needs you? Or you’re followed?”
And what if Valentina finds out? you want to ask, because you know he doesn’t have permission.
“I miss you. Needed to hear your voice,” he mumbles.
His voice echoes slightly, and you strain, ears trying to pick up any clues as to where he might be.
“Miss you so much. This is so hard,” he complains. You can pick up the faint drumming of his fingers.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve been away for this long.”
“It’s the first time I’ve been with someone the entire time,” he whines. “I don’t have a single moment to myself unless I’m in the bathroom. I feel so … supervised.”
“Awww. It’s a bonding opportunity,” you coo, pressing yourself further into his sheets. They’re too fresh to smell like him but you take a deep breath anyways.
“It sucks. I’m sharing a room with Bucky,” he whispers. “Bucky’s the lightest sleeper alive.”
“He was in the Second World War, and you guys should be on high alert,” you laugh.
When you close your eyes you can picture his face as he sighs, brows furrowed in frustration, head tilted back. When your thoughts start wandering to the way this action exposes his neck you, you shake your head trying to bring your thoughts back to the current conversation.
“I know it’s just… I miss you and I can’t stop thinking about you but I’m never alone and I can’t work it out because every time I relax even a little I hear Bucky shifting in his bed and it kills my boner.”
You picture his pout, his pleading blue eyes. You imagine he has the phone clenched tightly in his hands.
“Oh so that’s what this is about. You’re pent up. Poor Bob can’t rub one out.”
“Easy for you to mock me when you can get off whenever you like.”
You snort then, and the line crackles as he waits for you to finish laughing.
“I’m serious. If you’re home you can just get into bed and get yourself off and hey presto you’re done.”
“It’s not that easy,” you pout, thighs pressed together.
“It seems easy enough when I do it.”
You imagine the small smile he’s trying to suppress.
“Exactly. Not the same without you. I almost miss you more when I try.”
“I think you’re just trying to make me feel better.”
“No. If I was trying to make you feel better I would’ve told you I’m lying in your bed right now because being at mine feels too lonely.”
“Don’t say that,” he rushes out. “Don’t say that please. It’s not fair.”
You hum, shifting slightly on the bed. Outside you can hear raised voices and car horns.
“Guess I probably shouldn’t tell you I’m wearing that old Buccaneers shirt you tried to hide from me, then?”
The sigh on the other end is enough to make your stomach turn slightly. You can see him now, fist clenched trying to keep his voice level when he speaks to you.
“You probably shouldn’t,” he starts, voice heavy with something you recognise as need. “Any other things you probably shouldn’t tell me?”
You hum a little, dragging out the sound as you listen to his breathing, slow and controlled on the other side.
“I’ve been using your little gift,” you whisper suddenly shy.
There’s a sharp burst of static, then a silence so long you think he’s left.
“Bob, baby, are you there?”
“Yeah, sorry. Fuck. Shouldn’t have said that. Not fair I don’t get to see you,” he whines. Can see you on your back all spread out,” he muses.
“Not just on my back. Standing in the shower, on my stomach. If I use a couple pillows and the harness I can ride it too,” you hum. “Been practising for you. Gonna be so good when you get back,” you purr.
Static crackles as he exhales.
“Have you got it with you?”
His voice is tight, stretched thin as he tries to keep up the façade. He’s doing a miserable job.
“You bring it to the Tower with you?”
You hum out a yes, listening to the soft way his breath catches. Wherever he is, you know he’s palming at himself — discreetly, hopefully — because he never quite has the control to hold back when it comes to you, especially when he hasn’t seen you in a long time.
You let your mind stray to the times he’d come after long missions. Sometimes he wouldn’t even text, just show up at your front door with windswept hair and a new mission of his own.
“You still there?” he asks.
“Yeah. D’you say something?”
“Asked you if you have time now… it’s fine if you don’t I can–”
You cut him off.
“I don’t know what time it is where you are, but I have time. So much time,” you assure him, hand already slipping under the hem of his shirt.
“Wanna hear you use it,” he says, static crackling softly when he speaks. “Wanna hear. Been thinking about it since we left,” he mumbles and you know for sure he’s got his pants pushed down to his thighs, cock in hand.
“You have?”
“‘Course I do. All I could think about when I was getting the mold ready,” he sighs. “Does it work? Does it feel like me?”
“Of course it does,” you answer. It’s scary how much like him it feels, down to the veins and the slight curve. If you pretend for long enough, play the voice notes he leaves you when you’re at work and he’s at home, you can almost pretend he’s there with you. Almost.
“Good, that’s what I wanted,” he chuckles nervously. “Hope it doesn’t work too well. Don’t wanna be obsolete,” he jokes.
“God you could never be obsolete,” you sigh, thighs pressed together as you think of all the ways he could never be replaced.
“Really?” he asks.
His voice is still measured but there’s an undercurrent of barely restrained need beneath it all so you agree. You tell him that even with the lovingly crafted custom dildo he’d left you it wasn’t the same as having him there. It didn’t feel as good when you couldn’t feel the warm hum of his skin beneath your palms while you rode him, hard and fast until you couldn’t anymore and he helped you along with his fingers pressed deep into your thighs.
“Fuck, wanna touch you so bad,” he huffs. “Touch you, taste you, all of it.”
“Yeah? That what you’ve been thinking about when you should be sleeping?”
“What else am I supposed to think about? Wish I could see you use it, bet you look so pretty,” he groans. “Wanna kiss you again. I miss kissing you,” he whispers, and you feel something in you shift as your hand rests over your boob and then squeezes. “You’re so soft,” he continues. “Always so soft for me,” he mumbles again. “Sound so cute too,” he chuckles when you sigh at his words, desire already pooling deep in your stomach.
“Wish I could feel your tits,” he complains, “put ‘em in my mouth. Just for a bit,” he adds, attempting restraint.
“Never just a bit,” you sigh as you squeeze at your boob, stomach tightening when you imagine the heat of Bob’s mouth and the scrape of his teeth against your nipple. Your other hand rests between your thighs, fingers pressing down gently as you listen to Bob’s breathing get that little bit faster.
“You touching yourself?” he asks. It’s timid, despite the fact that he started this.
“What am I supposed to do when you’re talking about how soft I am,” you whisper, laughing. “I’ve missed you so much. Feels so good to hear your voice, honey.”
He laughs, and you imagine the shy way his face lights up.
“Are you still wearing the shirt,” he asks.
“Yeah. Want me take it off?”
You stop pawing at yourself but he’s rushing out a hurried no before you can actually move.
“Keep it on. Love you in that shirt,” he explains. “Can you play with your tits for me? Make yourself feel good.”
“You can’t even see me doing it,” you snort, even as your hands move to cup both of them, pinching at your nipples as you sigh softly.
“I can imagine. You always look so good for when you do it for me.”
His voice is low, a quiet confidence simmering beneath his words. “Don’t have to stop myself anymore,” he continues. “I can think about you all soft and easy on my bed. Always so easy.”
Static crackles softly as he speaks and it’s almost like the current is running through you.
You whimper.
You imagine the glow, the quiet power as he holds himself together wherever he is. You squeeze a little harder, almost able to feel Bob on you. The sound of traffic outside softens, his voice bouncing around your head as you groan softly for him.
“Sound so sweet,” he praises. “Even when I’m not there, you sound so sweet for me.”
You let one of your hands slide back down between your thighs, a shiver running through you in expectation.
"I’m so hard, it’s not fair,” he whines. “Know you’d take such good care of me, right?”
Your jaw clenches, and the coil in the pit of your stomach tightens as you think about getting on your knees for him, his cock heavy on your tongue while you take your time.
“Awww baby, of course I would. Wouldn’t even tease, I’d let you get straight to fucking my mouth,” you sigh, fingers pressed to your clit in tight circles. “You want that honey? Wanna make me cry?”
Anything coherent he has to say is lost in a flash of static and garbled sentences and you can already see the gold flashing in his veins, moving beneath his skin in fast intermittent bursts.
“That what you see when you think of me?”
“Yeah. Lots of tears. So pretty when you’re crying… and-and eager too. Let me do what I want,” he chokes out.
The strangled pitch of his voice gives you confidence.
“Bet you’re all leaky right now, huh. All pink, and pretty and sticky for me,” you purr, eyes shut as you picture him, big hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “You taking it nice and slow? You being patient for me?”
You let your fingers drag through your slit, already slick. You know he’s not, that he’s probably squeezing frantically, hips bucking into his fist. He doesn’t answer you, just panting into the receiver.
“Bob, honey. You taking it nice and slow? You waiting for me?”
“Trying. You’re not making it easy.”
You preen, back arching off the bed slightly. The fingers on your clit speed up, slit growing slicker as you imagine him frantic and needy.
“If you can’t control yourself now how are you gonna handle it when I’m all full of you, huh? This isn’t even the main event.”
There’s another burst of static, a couple of faint clunking sounds and then a short silence.
“Bob?”
“I’m here. Lost it for a bit but I’m here, fuck.”
You tease around your entrance, prodding as he catches his breath.
“I’m so wet for you, honey I wish you were here,” you whine, sliding your fingers through your arousal.
“Yeah. Wanna taste you so badly. It’s been so long I’ve practically forgotten,” he sighs. “Wanna eat until you’re begging me to stop, nice and slow. Can you get a finger in for me?”
You don’t hesitate, sighing in relief when your finger sinks into you nice and easy.
“Not the same when it’s not you,” you pout.
“I know, baby I know. But it’s just for a bit, get you nice and open yeah?”
You pulse around your finger.
You slide another in uninstructed, impatient as you listen to Bob’s barely controlled breathing on the other side.
“Fuck, I can hear it,” he groans out. “How wet you are. Just from my voice, huh.”
His admission only makes your want grow stronger as increase the tempo, grinding up into the heel of your palm.
Your breathing grows frantic and whiney as he instructs you to press harder, stretch yourself open on your fingers for him. Your back arches off the mattress as you try your best to reach that peak. The hem of his shirt brushes against your wrist almost distractingly, but you won’t take it off knowing that that’s how he’s picturing you.
“Can you get it?” he asks.
“Hmmm?”
“The dildo. Wanna hear you fuck yourself on it for me. Bet I’ll slide right in like I always do.”
“Cocky.”
“Know you so well now. She always opens up for me doesn’t she?”
You sigh out an agreement as you scan the room for your makeshift dildo dock. It was an invention of laziness that had proved to be your best idea yet. It’s on the floor nearby, almost calling for you to pick it up.
You listen, stretching out so you can heave it into bed, your knees pressed firmly into the mattress on either side.
Despite Bob’s urging you take your time, spreading lube over it as you listen to him on the other end.
“I don’t have much more time,” he reminds you.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” you say as you finally sink down onto it.
You don’t need to say anything, because the moment he hears your breath catch he’s praising you, encouraging you so earnestly you can almost conjure up the feeling of his hands on your hips as he guides you down, down, down until all of him is snug inside you.
“So full, Bob,” you whine as you rock your hips gently, your hands pressed forward into the mattress beneath you. It takes you a while to find a rhythm that makes sense, but you’re settled in soon enough, your stomach coiling in pleasure.
You close your eyes so you can focus on Bob’s voice, on the way he says your name through gritted teeth and hissed profanities.
It’s not the same. It’s never the same, but with Bob on the phone, when you close your eyes you can almost pretend he’s right there, can almost feel the heavy, desperate press of his fingers as he squeezes your thighs in an attempt to retain control. When he whimpers on the other end, it’s like you can feel the humming beneath his skin, the warmth that pulses through him while you grind down into him.
“Let me hear you baby, please,” you plead when he whimpers too low for you to hear.
“Gotta be quiet,” he mumbles.
“Can’t get there without you. Please don’t make me beg,” you plead, rocking your hips against the pillow as the toy presses into you. Your knees press uncomfortably into the mattress, and the steady creaking of his bed beneath spurs you on and you know, deep in your gut that all you want is to hear him properly.
He complies, voice clearer over the line and you feel a flash of heat travel through you.
You can feel the sweat beginning to bead on your temple, and the small spasms in your thigh.
“Wish you were here,” you whine out as you chase your high.
“Tired?”
Your stomach tightens again at just how well he knows you, and you just hum.
“Wish you could help,” you say and you hear him gasp, the static between you growing louder when you shift your hips just right and you can’t help but let out a desperate whine.
“Me too. Wanna see your face. I miss seeing your face,” he chokes out, the static building steadily over the line.
“We’ll see each other soon. Can look at me as much as you want then,” you coo. Every press of your clit on the pillow pulls you closer to the edge and you’re trying to drag this moment out, hold on to the way the static builds as Bob whimpers pathetically.
“Bob, honey are you there? You’re breaking up,” you ask desperately, ears straining for the sound of his voice.
It’s not long before the static subsides.
“Yeah, I’m here, sorry. You close?”
“So close. Just need a little more,” you plead.
He delivers immediately, groaning his encouragement.
“Let go for me. I need to hear it,” he pleads.
You don’t deny him, twitching and fluttering as you ride through it, voice broken as you call for him.
He lets off a chorus of “I’m right here”s that are soon drowned out by the returning static.
There’s a pause, a choked ‘I love you’ that’s somehow clear as day over the harsh burst of static.
As the static subsides, all you hear is Bob’s heavy breathing and when you close your eyes again you can almost feel him sprawled out beneath you, his lips soft as he kisses the top of your head.
And then the spell is broken by an automated voice.
“To continue your call please deposit more money.”
You hear Bob swear under his breath, and he must follow instructions because the call doesn’t disconnect.
“Are you in a payphone?” you laugh.
“Yeah, I was looking for some place private and saw it, thought I’d give it a try.”
“Didn’t know those still worked.”
“Me neither. Guess I got lucky.”
“Very lucky.”
After a longer than usual pause you add: “I guess we shouldn’t push that luck, huh?”
Your stomach’s already sinking at the thought of getting off the phone, of having to go another stretch of time without hearing him.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be home soon, I promise.”
“I’m gonna miss you more now,” you complain.
“Me too. Shouldn’t have called, I made it worse.”
“It was nice to hear you Bob, even just for a little bit. Come home in one piece for me.”
“Of course, I always do.”
“And no more jerking off in payphones,” you add before he can hang up.
“No promises there.”
And then the call drops, and you’re left lying in bed longing for him to come home.
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Series Masterlist
Previous | Next
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: ~4.8k
Warning/Tags: Legal Inaccuracies, Light Angst, Finally Some Soft Smut! (told ya to take a seat), Fluff.
Summary: You realize Bucky has hidden more than you thought, and now it's your turn to take care of him. Things finally broke the tension between you two.
Author's Note: We are walking towards the end, first of all. And I'm posting today because next week's gonna be all weird for me, and I wanted to be sure you all got your chapter <3 As always thank you to my baby for betareading @kileyking
A couple of days later, you were at your desk, determined to keep your mind busy with work. You had to. If you allowed yourself to think for more than two minutes, your thoughts would drift to Derek. And that didn't end well.
Soft music filled your entire office, while files flooded the whole space, and your feet moved anxiously under your desk.
Everything seemed calm until three knocks on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Nova was looking at you from the doorway with her phone in her hand.
"Is something wrong, Nova?"
She paused for a moment to run her hand through her hair.
"They have Bucky in custody," she said quickly, almost as if she didn't want you to understand.
"Custody? Bucky? Are you sure?" You stood up immediately, your hands still clinging to your desk.
"James Buchanan Barnes. He had an arrest warrant issued yesterday."
"Arrest... warrant?"
Your mind raced at those words. You hadn't seen him for two nights, but that wasn't anything to worry about; he often disappeared to take care of business with Steve, Sam, or Natasha.
You began to walk quickly, Nova following behind you, recounting every detail of the police report. The precinct where he was being held, and even the bail amount if necessary.
"Do you need me to come with you?" You shook your head.
"Just tell Lockwood I'll be back as soon as possible."
You ran to the parking lot with your bag bumping against your side and heels echoing down the hallway. When you reached the precinct, your hands clenched the steering wheel. You couldn't believe you were about to go in there and ask about him.
You sighed as deeply as you could and grabbed your purse. The walk was torturous, almost like penance. The coat covering your shoulders felt heavy, and the loose hair around your neck bothered you enough that it felt like pulling it out of your scalp.
"Good afternoon," you announced to the police officer at the reception desk. "James Buchanan Barnes."
You claimed his name seriously.
"Relationship to the detainee?"
Damn it.
"Personal, but I'm a therapist at the Local Veterans Reintegration Center." You handed him your badge, and he nodded.
"One moment." He stood up and left the room, heading down a hallway.
Your hands clung to the desk in front of you as your head hung below your shoulders.
A woman's voice calling your name interrupted your thoughts. It was a woman of at least fifty, with dark hair and wrinkles on her skin that made her look intimidating.
"Christina Raynor." She extended her hand to greet you.
"I—" Your voice faltered for a moment, and you reached out in return. "Nice to meet you."
"Thank you for coming. James has told me a lot about you." Raynor led you to an interrogation room. "Coffee?"
"No, thank you. I just want to know if... James... is okay."
"He's fine. He explained why he couldn't make it to his appointment and, with a couple of conditions... and with you here, it will be easier for them to let him out today."
You nodded, hands clasped on the table between you both.
"May I ask what I have to do with his release? I'm not his therapist, we're not even related in that way."
Raynor pursed her lips in a gesture of annoyance.
"James has had the opportunity to reduce his therapy regimen almost entirely for quite a time now. He’s been asked multiple times to bring a new Character Witness to make it happen.”
You nodded. You started to see where this conversation was going.
“He already had Steve on his side, even Sam and Natasha Romanoff; he just needed someone from his community. Someone who could state he was not a threat anymore to his community.”
You held your breath, not wanting to jump to conclusions before Raynor finished speaking.
"A little over a year ago, he started talking about a girl in his new apartment building—then a neighbor, his friend, and then—he started calling you by your name."
Raynor took a sheet of paper out of his folder with the order for the last trial to grant Bucky full freedom. No date. No sign.
"I asked him countless times to call her to sign as a witness. He always said he didn't want to do it, that he didn't want to ask her because of... her job."
Raynor took your badge out of her coat pocket handing it back to you.
"Now I see why."
"Doctor, I apologize. Jamie never mentioned it—otherwise I would have signed without hesitation. There's no way I wouldn't have.”
You sighed.
“Jamie has been nothing but a great neighbor, a great... friend... to me this past year."
Raynor couldn't help but smile when she heard you say that.
"James doesn't usually trust people, but I've noticed over the last year how he's done everything he can to keep you close."
You nodded.
"But he also has a self-destructive side that prevents him from accepting that he deserves to be treated normally."
"Is there anything I can do to sign as a character witness for him? I'm not interested in signing as a psychologist. I'm doing this solely as a friend, as his neighbor."
"I'm not going to lie. The simple fact that you're here without anyone calling you, as his doctor, is more than enough for me to see that he has created bonds in the community."
"So?"
"We need him to accept it. Unfortunately, this isn't a one-sided thing."
"Can I talk to him?" You moved a little closer to the table, Raynor nodded, and got up from her chair.
"I'll have him brought in."
You nodded, your hands sweating with nerves, your heels clicking on the porcelain floor as your nails tapped on the table.
"Here." A police officer gestured, and you stood up, leaning on the table with your arms crossed over your chest.
He entered, and when he looked up, his eyes widened at the sight of you there.
"What are you doing here?" He approached you and hugged your shoulders.
"What are you doing here?" You said, still hidden against his chest. "Why did you miss your session?"
"I completely forgot about it."
You turned to look at him angrily. You pulled away for a few seconds to process your feelings.
"Jamie, why didn't you ask me for help with your final trial?"
"I didn't want your name involved in this. If—if something goes wrong, your name will be involved."
"James, I trust you completely. I know perfectly well that you couldn't do anything wrong on your own."
He looked down.
"I'm asking you to put my name on the trial."
He pleaded your name.
"James."
You spoke forcefully. He could almost hear the same tone you used with your patients. He swallowed hard.
"Don't talk to me like one of your patients."
"Don't treat me like a stranger who doesn't trust you.” You replied with sadness in your voice.
He looked down at you—it was the first time he saw the therapist behind those eyes. Not the sunshine he was now used to seeing on a daily basis.
A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts, and Dr. Raynor opened it after a few seconds.
"Doctor?" You nodded, staring at her.
She entered without looking back at Bucky. "The judge granted you to be part of James’ trial.”
"But you need my signature for that," Bucky interrupted.
"Not if I showed enough evidence that you are deliberately delaying your trial."
Raynor looked directly at you. "And the fact that a person you've been mentioning to me for months is here without being called is enough for us."
Bucky's jaw was practically on the floor.
"Ready?"
You patted Bucky's shoulder as he accepted the fact that you would not refuse to do it even if he begged you.
"Ready." Bucky looked up and nodded.
The judge was an elderly man, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose as he read through several files; you were led by a guard to the center of the room.
A long table with a microphone in front of the chair waited for you.
Some feet behind, behind wooden doors, Bucky and Dr. Raynor took their seats.
The judge paused to look down and read your name from a file. "Therapist at the Local Veterans Reintegration Center. No disciplinary record. No legal ties to Mr. Barnes."
"Good afternoon, Your Honor. I confirm all the information mentioned."
"Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you, God?"
“I do.” You nodded.
“You may take a seat.”
You knew the protocols for this type of case. You had been on the other side of the room more than once, supporting veterans, witnesses, and family members enough times to know every detail of the protocol.
"Dr. Raynor asked us to review the case of James Buchanan Barnes, who has been on probation for over three years with mandatory therapy."
"I am aware of that, Your Honor. However, if I may clarify one point—”
The judge nodded.
"I am not here as a therapist. Rather, I am here as a character witness for Mr. Barnes."
"What is your relationship to Mr. Barnes?" Asked the judge as he wrote on a piece of paper.
There was a pause.
"I have been his neighbor for over a year..." You knew you had to give more than just that. "And we have been involved romantically for the last few months."
That sentence came out as a whisper. You wanted to be swallowed at that moment; you didn't feel capable of looking at Dr. Raynor, who probably already knew or had her suspicions.
"Are you aware of Mr. Barnes' past and history?"
"Clear and concise, Your Honor. I am fully aware of Mr. Barnes' past and the program he was involved in with the former HYDRA association."
The judge nodded as the assistant wrote down every word that came out of your mouth. Bucky didn't dare look at you; somehow, he felt he was betraying you by seeing you at that table, testifying that you trusted him.
"Are you willing to answer a few questions?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
"Do you confirm that you were not forced, coerced, or paid to appear in this character trial?"
"Not at all, Your Honor."
"Thank you very much." The man began to read the questions in front of him, “Can you confirm your current relationship with Mr. Barnes?”
“We are neighbors, and we share a—romantic relationship.”
You didn’t stop staring at the judge. Somehow, you felt dumb at the statement. Not because you were ashamed of being involved with Bucky that way, not even because you were saying it out loud for the first time, but because it was in a legal context. Under oath. Confirming you were in a relationship with him.
"Since the time you met Mr. Barnes, has he exhibited harmful behavior, impulsive behavior, self-harming behavior, or thoughts that pose a danger to society or even to himself?"
"None of the aforementioned behaviors have been part of Mr. Barnes' character in the last year that I have known him."
The judge nodded. "Have you ever felt in danger with Mr. Barnes?"
You shook your head again. “Never have I, Your Honor.”
"Would you trust Mr. Barnes with your safety and that of the people around you?"
"I already do, Your Honor."
That sentence made Bucky's heart skip a beat.
"As a professional and as a person, do you believe that Mr. Barnes poses a danger or could become an imminent or lethal danger to society?"
"I cannot give an answer as a professional, since I have never treated Mr. Barnes as a patient, but as someone related to him, I am here to confirm that, based on our time together, he is no longer an imminent danger to himself, nor to society."
The judge nodded one more time.
"Dr. Raynor, anything else you'd like to add before we continue?"
"On my part, there are no further comments, Your Honor." Raynor returned to her seat.
The judge began reviewing a couple more files, and a few minutes later, cleared his throat.
"After reviewing each file, the statements of your other character witnesses, as well as Dr. Raynor's professional opinion, we have concluded that citizen James Buchanan Barnes meets all the requirements for the termination of his mandatory supervision regime..."
A slight sigh escaped Bucky's lips.
"... He has demonstrated a full and sustained reintegration into civilian life, and therefore this court concludes his therapeutic and legal supervision process..."
You couldn't help but smile.
"... He no longer requires mandatory supervision by the state and is now free to voluntarily decide the course of his treatment and his civilian life."
"Thank you very much, Your Honor."
You and Dr. Raynor said in unison. The judge nodded and left the room.
You still couldn't stand up; your legs were about to give way, and if you tried to do so, you might fall.
You heard their footsteps approaching from behind. Bucky's unmistakable hand rested on your shoulder.
"It's time to go."
You nodded as you looked at Raynor.
"Doctor, I can't thank you enough." You finally spoke.
"You have nothing to thank me for. James has worked all these years for this... and it was time for him to start seeing it."
She nodded and said goodbye.
In the solitude of that room, you couldn't help but hug Bucky. How could you not? You were genuinely happy to know that for the first time in decades, he had no restrictions.
Steve laughed out loud as Bucky recounted that day at the precinct, how Dr. Raynor had decided he was a decent man simply by your mere presence.
"You're an idiot. Obviously, she was going to want to participate the moment she found out."
"It's not that I thought she would refuse. I just... preferred that she didn't have the option. I already have enough on my plate with America's Asshole being responsible for my actions."
Bucky rested his arms on each knee, staring at the floor.
"What? You should be happy, you're no longer in mandatory therapy."
"She told the judge we're a couple." He frowned as he remembered that moment.
"Well, isn't that partially true?"
Steve sat down across from him and crossed his arms as he tried to figure out Bucky's thoughts.
"Buck, you have to stop doing this. Stop pretending you don't deserve what she's offering you. You've spent over a year taking care of her, being there for her; she's broken down every one of your barriers without caring how long it would take."
The apartment door opening pulled him out of his thoughts. You arrived with a couple of grocery bags.
"Oh," you said, staring at them. "Sorry, I should have knocked. I thought you were alone..."
They both shook their heads at the same time.
"I brought a couple of things from the store and left a cake waiting in my apartment."
"I'll get it," Steve offered as he walked to the door.
When the door closed, you couldn't help but look directly at Bucky.
"Are you still upset?" Your body couldn't move from the kitchen counter.
"Why would I be upset?" He furrowed his brow.
"Because we didn't let you decide what would happen with the trial."
"Well, what Raynor said wasn't a lie; I was delaying my trial on purpose.”
"Yes, but this was your process, and we were taking it into our own hands."
Bucky snorted an almost sarcastic laugh.
"You've been taking half my decisions into your own hands for a year now."
He stood up and began walking towards you.
"You decided to talk to me for the first time in the elevator, you decided to come into my life, become my friend—become part of my routines, you decided that I wasn't a danger to you... or to anyone else.”
He came closer.
“You decided to trust hands that had been lethal weapons for decades."
Bucky couldn't help but smile as he remembered each moment mentioned, while your eyes began to well up, and he could see the redness in them increase.
"Yesterday, you decided that I was worth risking your entire career just so I could stop taking mandatory therapy. I think the fact that you and Raynor decided this—even against my protests—only confirms a couple of things."
"What things?" You asked, swallowing a sob.
"That you're the most stubborn woman I'll ever encounter in my life, that you're a ray of sunshine I don't know if I deserve, and that I have to admit that you do everything you can to make me see every detail."
By the time the last word left his lips, their faces were only inches apart, and Bucky was wiping the few tears that had escaped from your eyes.
"I love you. And you've taught me that I can be a good person no matter what I may or may not have done in my past."
Your lips met in the middle, your hands caressing Bucky's arms lightly, almost as if you didn't want him to notice.
He continued to hold your face with the flesh hand, while his metal hand squeezed your hip slightly, just enough to keep you in place, as if you really intended to run away.
A cough at the door made you separate. You flushed and looked away towards the bags you had unloaded minutes earlier.
Steve smiled with the cake in one hand and the doorknob in the other.
Bucky sighed and kissed your forehead.
"I can leave if you need me to."
"No, no. Sorry." You moved slightly away from Bucky, then approached Steve and took the cake from his hands.
"I have a new recipe I want you to try."
They both sat down at the table while you went into the kitchen to start cutting the cake.
When Steve said goodbye, you cleaned up the rest of the cake that the super soldiers had left, collected a couple of plates to put in the sink, and Bucky returned to the apartment with a frown.
"Couldn't you wait for me to pick up all of this?" You shook your head.
"It's not much, just a couple of things, and then we can rest for a while."
Bucky approached you and took the dishes from your hands, moving you by the waist with his right hand to guide you towards the living room. "I'll do it later. You go pick out a terrible movie, and I'll bring you a beer."
You grumbled as you walked to the couch.
The entire afternoon was enveloped in calm; your legs rested on one of Bucky's legs while his arm rested on your shoulders, his free hand caressing one of your bare legs, almost anchoring himself to reality with that movement.
You let your head fall back as you surrendered to the touch. You had never admitted it, but the difference in temperature between the two limbs had always seemed... almost pleasant. On the flesh hand, Bucky always seemed to be warm, while his metal hand was usually cold, almost icy, and the mixture of both touches had always seemed exorbitant to you.
When you opened your eyes, you realized that Bucky was still completely immersed in the movie. You knelt on the couch, which made Bucky look at you suddenly when he felt the lack of your skin against his.
You awkwardly moved enough to sit on his lap, and Bucky adjusted his posture so you could settle into that space. "Are you okay?"
You murmured something in affirmation, but he couldn't quite make out the words. Before he knew it, you were devouring each other's mouths. Your hands began to tangle in Bucky's short hair, while his began to search for your skin beneath your blouse.
There was no sound other than your lips colliding and your heavy breathing. It seemed as if the movie itself had fallen silent to allow you to have that moment.
"God..." Bucky sighed. "If I were asked to wait another lifetime to feel you like this again, I would do so without hesitation."
You laughed nervously, your cheeks beginning to flush. "Shut up."
"I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm willing to pay double to keep you by my side, you stubborn woman."
In one smooth, almost imperceptible movement, he pulled you under his body. You were lying completely flat on the couch, Bucky between your legs, trying to memorize every feature you had at that precise moment. Each hand was at your side, the woodsy scent Bucky used to wear filling the room. You had become addicted to that smell by that point.
When your lips finally met again, you clumsily tried to lift Bucky's shirt, making it clear that you had no intention of stopping anytime soon.
"Do you... Really want this?" Bucky took your hands for a moment. You nodded gently.
"Only if you want it."
Bucky nodded, lifting his shirt. It was the first time you were going to see him naked—and you really tried not to look so mesmerized, but he was something completely out of orbit.
When his shirt fell to the floor, you couldn't help but let out a small sigh. The scene was almost... angelic. Despite the scars Bucky might have had, his body looked practically perfect. He couldn't help but laugh at your state. He could swear you were hypnotized by the image in front of you, and that solely made him feel—human again.
"May I?" he asked, whispering as he played with the fabric of your blouse. You nodded, raising your arms.
When both torsos were naked, your lips met again, your hands exploring new areas of skin, seeking to leave not a single inch unexplored.
Everything was warm and full of comfort. Your bodies had found each other completely, sliding into each other as if that alone were enough to make everything right in their worlds.
You squeezed him urgently and carefully, scratching every inch of skin you could find, releasing the tension that Bucky's touch provoked in you.
He was unbuckling his belt while his gaze was still fixed on your eyes, “I—can stop if you ask me to.”
“Please, don’t…” You whimpered, his hands still hovering over his belt.
He swallowed and let his jeans fall on his knees, while you lifted your hips to make space for you to slide yours down too. He stopped your hands from working on your jeans and took matters into his own hands, pulling them down slowly. His eyes were completely locked on your legs—you could see how he was trying to memorize every inch of skin he had in front of him.
You noticed how his briefs seemed tight, choking his pronounced bulge, but his strong fingers tracing a line on your clothed core pulled you out of the thought of his length. You whimpered at the feeling. His middle finger just caressed your slit with care, like he didn’t want to hurt you by accident.
He was towering over you, his metal hand grinding him next to your head. You were really trying not to be overeager, but having him this way in front of you was something you had only dreamt of before, and you weren’t sure if you could hold back anymore.
Suddenly, he withdrew his finger from you, making you heave at the lack of contact. He was panting, trying to control himself. He straightened himself just to take your panties from the hem and put them down carefully, his flesh hand was doing most of the work.
“Jamie,” you tried to clear your throat, “You know you can touch me with both your hands, right?”
His breath hitched, “I—” He stuttered.
“I’m telling you. You can do it,”
“You don’t mind?” He interrupted.
“Why would I?” You rested your weight on your elbows.
He sighed, letting his whole body rest on his knees. You straightened up to look better at him.
“Now, I’m the one telling you, if you need to stop—we don’t—I don’t—”
“It’s not that—” You moved closer, and he granted access, letting you sit on his lap while he adjusted himself on the couch, “This is not the only nor the first implant, prosthetic, or however you want to call it, I’ve ever had, and—thanks to Tony, the one I used to have… when I was the Winter soldier was destroyed in a fight we had years ago.”
You nodded, your hands resting in your lap, your knuckles grazing his belly, his flesh hand resting on your leg while he restrained himself from touching you with the metal arm.
“But, seeing the bionic limb, makes me remember that this ‘improvement’,” he chuckled—hurt. He found it laughable how everyone called it an improvement rather then something used to kill people, “and then seeing you, I don’t think you deserve to be touched with this."
You scoffed a laugh, “Jamie, I know it’s still hard for you to understand it, but I don’t see any part of you as a threat. Every part of you is more than enough for me, no changes.”
You could see it, that glimpse of confidence in his eyes coming back, “But if you’re still reluctant to touch me… We could wait.”
His chest heaved, and he shook his head. Then, he bracketed your face with his hands. He thrust his hips to adjust himself and sat on the couch. You climbed him, straddling his legs.
You shivered, and his metal hand traveled to your back to have you flush against his chest. Flesh hand traveling between your bodies to free his length, you lifted your hips to make space for him.
You could feel his tip teasing against fabric, and then his index finger finally pulled aside your panties. The warm feeling of his finger grazing your lips was enough to make you tremble.
When his tip finally kissed your slit, you inhaled, trying to keep calm. "Do you need a minute?”
You shook your head, sinking your hips slowly to finally feel the stretching feeling of his cock making space within you.
He grunted, quivering, his metal hand snapped out of your skin to ground himself on the edge of the couch. A strangled moan was stripped from his throat.
When you finally sank enough to start feeling pleasure instead of the burning stretch, you stopped, opening your eyes just to look at him, his eyes pinched closed, lips parted open, your hands anchored on his neck, and he finally snapped out of his trance.
He was pounding his hips coming up and down, making himself inside you. The tip of his cock was kissing your cervix slowly as you tried to not cry out as you finally felt him in you.
He finally freed the couch of his grip, and both of his hands steadied you by your hips; his own hips started to swing to create a deliciously slow pace. You gasped with every thrust he performed.
His hands were now holding you steady, pressing you against his chest, his hips rolling, his tangy sweat dripping from his forehead while he bucked carefully.
He stopped his rocking hips to sit, flushing his back to the couch, his hands clutched your ass while your knees rested on his sides—he jerked you, slamming while he pounded slowly.
His thick cock split you open while you melted against his shoulder.
Your sight was foggy, and you could hear your quickened pulse while his fingers dug in your skin.
His eyes glazed over you when he noticed how your eyes kept pinching closed. It was the first time in a long time that he was finally letting himself feel something like this, the first time he surrendered all his dark thoughts of being afraid of hurting someone just to feel alive again next to someone.
He thrusted mindlessly, burying himself, feeling every inch of skin on him, his hands stroking while his calloused hands brought you to the moment every once in a while.
“Jamie…” You whimpered, and he could feel how your core clenched around his length.
“Do you need to come?” He hoarsed, you nodded—just a ragged cry was able to leave your lips, while you writhed.
"Please..." You cried out, he growled.
He captured your lips to capture your moan while you reached your peak. You arched your back as soon as you felt him coming undone at the same time as you. Your bodies trembling with each other, his hands holding you from your waist, your cheek flushed on his chest.
Everything was coming confusing, eyes blurry, dry throat as you tried to come to your senses. His eyes were even still closed as he smiled, still buried inside you.
You could swear there was no better moment in your memories than that precise moment. Even after the release and the inevitable fainting feeling you both had, you felt at your highest.
"Are you okay?" he asked, stroking your hair, while he kissed your shoulder.
"Better than ever." Your voice was strangled.
"Can you rest a little now?" He begged, trying not to sound so demanding.
"Only if I can stay on top of you."
"I wouldn't ask for something else..." He mumbled, closing his eyes.
Next Part.
General taglist: @maplesyrizzup @wickedfun9 @herejustforbuckybarnes @w1nter-fairy @sassandscribbles @globetrotter28 @singulartoast @buckybsdoll @mathcat345 @elliestwoleftfingerss @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @onyx8514 @shitbewild @idkbeautiful @misswhiddless @buckybarneswife08 @beefybuckyplease @maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals @bunnybarnes1 @repsfolkwhore @rufles2 @eilish007 @greatenthusiasttidalwave @armystay89 @emmyrietveld0 @sebbymybaby21 @bravelydauntlesssecret @secretdream2 +add yourself to my tag list!
Series tag list: @vicmc624 @queenofbeingvain @capswife
All my stories are R18. I write smut, and I may touch sensitive topics or topics that are not intended to be read by minors.
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN CONTENT CONSUMPTIONS.
More masterlists
Here you can find my works for Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes, this lists may change later to add more characters, but by now it's only him.
Here you can find: smut, angst, fluff, age-gap, and power dynamics. So be careful and pay attention to which is the list you want to check!
They are now different lists. Please mind the info and mind the tags
The Dark Side.
Here you can find: smut, angst, fluff, age-gap, and power dynamics. So be careful. This is the masterlist for the darker stories I write. Things like MOB AUs, Kinkfics, Pure smut no plot.
The Soft Side.
Here you can find: smut, angst, fluff, age-gap, and power dynamics. So be careful. This is the masterlist for the softer stories I write. Things like idiots in love, neighbors to lovers, sunshine x grumpy.
Events and Challenges.
Dear My Darling Event:
Fanfics written for my beautiful @elliestwoleftfingerss.
Our Coffee Shop. After a couple of encounters in your usual coffee shop with Congressman Barnes you realize both of you are getting fond of each other. Congressman Barnes | Pure fluff, slight Angst.
A misunderstanding. From the first time Bucky sees you, he realizes you're something different, but maybe eavesdropping is not his best ally at the moment. Now he has to remind himself not everyone is an enemy. Misunderstanding, miscommunication, Fluff, Angst.
Fanfic written to me by my dear wife @singulartoast
Don't Wait For the Sky to Clear. A storm blew you off course and into his bed leaving an invisible string tying you to rugged farmer Bucky Barnes. Can he rodeo the red carpet while you write melodies in meadows? Farmer!Bucky | Smut.
All my stories are R18. I write smut, and I may touch sensitive topics or topics that are not intended to be read by minors.
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN CONTENT CONSUMPTIONS.
More masterlists
Here you can find my works for Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes, this list may change later to add more characters, but by now it's only him.
Here you can find: smut, angst, fluff, age-gap, and power dynamics. So be careful. This is the masterlist for the softer stories I write. Things like idiots in love, neighbors to lovers, sunshine x grumpy.
Answers, Shortfics, Drabbles.
You call the shots, babe. After months of what seems mutual pinning, alcohol finally makes you and Bucky snap.
Alpine's Mayhem. Your dog, Tucker, and Bucky's cat decide to misbehave.
Cold Nights. Cold nights can lead to better days.
Bucky's Sweetheart. After Bucky gets injured on a mission, your secret gets exposed.
Bucky takes care of you.
Bucky is obsessed with you.
Re-Teaching Bucky how to dance. To be Reposted.
One-Shots.
Ficception. Writing fanfictions sounds fun until your muse is aware of what you're writing about him. Bucky Barnes | AU, Fluff, Smut.
Operation: Barnes. You're hired to find Bucky Barnes. Steve trusts you enough to find him. The problem is that now that you find him, you don't want anyone to know where he is. Bucky Barnes | Angst, Smut, Secret Relationship, Light Fluff.
Double-crossed mind. After dealing with the outcome of dating your ex-boss, you decide to go back to your hometown, just to end up in a not that ideal thing with your dad's best friend. DBF!Bucky | Smut, Angst.
Wanna Be Yours. He had always had his reputation, until he saw you. He knew well he was going to become worthy of you, even if he had to go against your father's wishes. '40s Bucky | Fluff, AU.
A soldier's comin' home. After Bucky and you eloped, both of you try to pretend that life is not going to hit you hard. But some things are meant to happen. '40s Bucky | Fluff, Smut, Angst, AU.
Give it a try! After deciding to go back to your hometown, you realize that taking care of your grandmother is not going to be the hard part. Not when Bucky Barnes makes things harder for both of you. TrailerPark!Bucky | AU, Smut, Angst, slight Fluff.
Red thread of fate. You met him through the years, even before knowing it was him you helped him. Somehow, he was always there, even when you didn't want him to be there. Bucky Barnes | Angst, Smut.
Do I Wanna Know? Sometimes promises are made to be broken, and no matter how many times you and Bucky had promised not to see each other again, you always come back. Bucky Barnes | Modern AU, Smut, Angst.
They'll never love you like I can. Bucky and you have been so long in each other’s lives that by the time you start catching feelings, you don’t even realize it. Bucky Barnes | Modern AU, Fluff, Angst, Drama.
Same Blue Eyes. After Bucky ends things with you and you get injured on a mission, you meet someone who might be the one to help you forget. Bucky Barnes / Frank Langdon | Bucky Barnes x The Pitt Crossover. | Smut, Angst.
Into Thin Air. After you tell Bucky you're expecting, the Blip happens, now you have to deal with the fact of not knowing if he was just not ready for the commitment or if he blipped. Bucky Barnes | AU, Angst, Fluffy ending, relationship established.
Like It's her Birthday. Bucky is sure you love him—until he’s not. He’s sure until the thought of you choosing someone else gets into his head, and taking the worst of him, he goes to the bar just to check up on you, or that’s what he says to himself. Bucky Barnes | Fluff, Spicy.
Make Up, Not Make Out! Maybe the fact that you and Bucky see Steve as a brother has its disadvantages after all, doesn't it? Bucky Barnes | Smut, Idiots in love.
Series.
See You Around. After your new neighbor moves into the apartment across from yours, you begin to realize that both of your pasts weigh more on your shoulders than you could admit. Only to realize that you two are discovering a new way of looking at life. Bucky Barnes | AU | Sunshine x Grumpy | Neighbors to Lovers Trope | Slow burn, Fluff, Angst, Smut.
All my stories are R18. I write smut, and I may touch sensitive topics or topics that are not intended to be read by minors.
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN CONTENT CONSUMPTIONS.
More masterlists
Here you can find my works for Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes, this list may change later to add more characters, but by now it's only him.
Here you can find: smut, angst, fluff, age-gap, and power dynamics. So be careful. This is the masterlist for the darker stories I write. Things like MOB AUs, Kinkfics, Pure smut no plot.
Answers, Shortfics, Drabbles.
That Should be Me. Bucky is trying to keep up his promise to not ruin your life. But seeing you with another man makes him cave in.
Edging Bucky
One-Shots.
Sharing the load. Bucky realizes that Steve likes you and, without realizing it, leads you to like him back, ending in you sharing him. Steve x Reader x Bucky / Stucky x Reader | Smut.
On your Command. You never really learned to not be in charge, nor to take care of yourself, but after you notice Bucky Barnes is paying attention, and not afraid of you, things start to change. SoftDom!Bucky Barnes | Smut, various kinks, DDDNE.
Dirty Business. Bucky is the first man who ever showed you your worth. MOB! Bucky Barnes | Hurt / Comfort.
Unfortunately, always his. You were forced to get married to the newest and most powerful mobster in town. Your father always got you as a bargaining chip to the highest bidder. MOB! Bucky Barnes | Smut, Angst, Hurt / Comfort.
Treat you better. Even having everything he wants, Bucky accepts only having you as a friend. MOB! Bucky | Fluff, Light Angst.
Riding in a getaway car. After a night with Bucky, you realize you can't keep lying to yourself and the way you feel about him. MOB! Bucky | Fluff, Light Angst.
Against all odds. Bucky, as the Winter Soldier, set you both free from HYDRA after you took care of him and tried to make his pain more bearable. And after spending some time living a normal life, you get kidnapped, and he brings his Winter Soldier mode back just to take you back. Bucky Barnes !Major Angst.
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All my stories are R18. I write smut, and I may touch sensitive topics or topics that are not intended to be read by minors.
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN CONTENT CONSUMPTIONS.
Series Masterlist
Previous | Next
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: ~5.4k
Warning/Tags: Light angst, but very fluffy towards the end.
Summary: After what seemed like a beautiful night, a truth comes to light, and confronting your siblings seems like the only way out.
Author's Note: So... I'm highly thinking about posting the next chapter like today because I love the plot of that one... but we will see what happens. hehe, happy friday! i'm dying but we are towards the end and i don't want to make you all wait <3
You tapped your feet impatiently under the desk. Nova looked at you from across the office as she finished some paperwork.
"Celebrating something?" Lockwood entered the office and left a piece of paper on your desk.
"Why do you ask?" You tilted your head.
"You don't wear dresses to the office unless you have an important event," Nova added from across the room.
"Am I that obvious?" you asked, pouting your lips.
"We're that observant."
"Back to the question," Nova insisted.
"I have no idea." You frowned. "I think he just wanted to go on a date."
There was a silence that seemed to last forever.
"He just asked me to wear something nice; he didn't give me any more information."
"How interesting it must be to date a man who used to go on dates in the forties."
You threw your head on the desk.
When the clock struck six, you stood up and said goodbye to your coworkers. Nova and John walked behind you, this time out of pure curiosity. They didn't even try to pretend they were concerned coworkers.
As you stepped outside the building, you saw him.
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him. He was wearing a black button-down shirt with the top buttons open, his usual leather jacket, and in his hands... he was carrying a bouquet. Your favorite colors. ‘How did he know?’
Your feet wouldn't move. You couldn't believe how beautiful the flowers looked in his hand as he approached you.
"Ready?"
You nodded cautiously.
"These are for you. I've been an idiot for not giving you some sooner."
"No... I haven't asked you for anything."
"You shouldn't have to ask."
He approached you and gently cupped your face with one hand, slowly caressing your cheek. He planted a kiss on your lips, which made you tremble. It was the first kiss after Brooklyn.
The first casual kiss he had allowed himself to do.
"Come on, we can't be late for our reservation."
You both heard a discreet gasp behind you and noticed Nova and Lockwood leaning against the doorframe.
"Good evening." Lockwood tried to feign seriousness. Nova couldn't hide her excitement at seeing you like this.
When you arrived at the restaurant, you noticed Bucky's nervousness, how he shifted his gaze to avoid eye contact, how his hand squeezed yours a little tighter without meaning to.
You were about to sit down when Bucky stopped you, moving your chair to help position yourself.
"Can I ask what this is all about?"
"A date," he said, sitting down across.
"And how is this one different from the rest...?"
"I know I'm not the most... practical man, you know, I know I'm not the most modern either, but... I detest romanticism in this century."
You laughed.
"Don't make fun of me! How is it possible that... you just start dating and suddenly decide you're a couple and that's it?"
"I don't know, Jamie. The last time someone asked me to be their girlfriend was over a decade ago, and I was with that same person for the entire decade."
"Did Darren ask you to be his girlfriend?" You nodded with a hint of pride.
"We were thirteen, we knew nothing about life, and we thought it would be forever."
"Well, at least he did better than me."
You shook your head.
"Enough, Jamie."
As the night was coming to an end, the tables were emptying, and you realized you had to say goodbye to the restaurant as soon as possible.
He walked with you holding his arm, while you said goodbye to the host at the entrance. Bucky felt even lighter after this. The way you wore his jacket proudly over your shoulders.
"If you’re not tired, can I take you for a walk?"
"My feet definitely don't hurt." You mocked, and he smiled fondly.
You walked a couple of blocks until you reached the bridge. The river sparkled in the moonlight, and the breeze laden with moisture from the river made the air slightly cooler.
"Thanks for tonight, Jamie." You leaned back with your back to the river. He rested both hands on either side of you, facing you.
"Thanks for your patience."
It took a second for Bucky to put his hands back on your waist. They fell there as if they naturally belonged on your body. He helped you climb onto the concrete wall to sit down. You were a few inches taller than him at that moment, and he realized how beautiful you looked that night.
He whispered your name, almost worshipping you, like a prayer.
Wanting to memorize every feature on your face, his hands remaining on your waist as if to anchor himself.
"I don't know if I deserve this."
"Stop saying that. You deserve it, and I deserve it too. It's a privilege that you allow me to be in your life."
You caressed his cheeks gently, squeezing them slightly, causing Bucky's lips to tighten into a fake pout. He laughed in confusion.
"I'm not used to being someone who’s seen as a privilege. You know?”
You shook your head, loosening the grip on Bucky's face. Bucky's hands remained pressed against your waist, and silence enveloped the moment.
His lips parted slightly; he felt like he was about to explode.
"I love you, you have no idea how much I love you."
He blurted it out as if it were a forbidden confession. Inside, he felt he shouldn't say it, that it was forbidden for him to do so.
"I don't know how you got so deep into my heart, nor do I know when, but I love you, and I'm tired of denying it to myself."
You threw yourself lightly into his arms, and he held you with one arm while the other sought balance for a second on the concrete, your feet left floating in the air.
"I love you, too, James Buchanan Barnes. I love you more than you can imagine. And I'll spend every waking moment you allow me to, proving that you deserve it."
Your feet finally touched the ground, but you didn't let go of his neck. He leaned in again and joined your lips once more. This made something inside you melt, something in your stomach tightened.
"Let's go home before you get sick," he said a second after pulling away from your lips, his forehead still resting on yours.
You walked down the street checking your cell phone, Bucky took your hand to guide you, and his free hand held a couple of shopping bags.
"Are you okay? You haven't taken your eyes off your phone since we left the supermarket."
"I'm just checking Sara’s wedding invitation." You frowned as you read.
"On your phone?" Bucky's tone showed genuine curiosity. You looked up for the first time and showed him the screen.
"What are you going to say? 'In my day...'" Bucky let out a stifled laugh.
You put your phone away and kept walking, noticing that the frown hadn't disappeared from your forehead as you continued walking.
"Bucky..." You finally broke the silence.
A sound escaped his lips in response.
"Would you like to come with me to the wedding? I understand if you say no, Lola would never say no to a wedding, but I would like you to be my plus one."
Your mouth began to utter words as he tried to understand each sentence you attempted to form.
He squeezed your hand to calm you down. “Slow down.”
"Sorry." You sighed. "Would you like to go to the wedding with me?"
"You really want me to go with you?"
"I would really love for you to."
He sighed.
"I think I've only been to one wedding in my life, and you can guess how many decades ago that was."
"Well, it's always good to have a first time again. And you can't lie to me and say you don't have any suits, because you always wear suits to the Annual Galas."
He sighed for a second before turning to look at you and nodding, looking you in the eyes.
He could see the excitement in the sparkle of those big eyes that had him on his knees. You celebrated by clapping on the outside of Bucky's hand.
"You look fine, Buck."
The white shirt hugging Bucky's torso made his black arm stand out a little more. His jacket rested on the dining room chair as he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror.
"Steve, how the hell am I going to do this?" He sighed, finishing combing his hair.
"Like everything you've done for her. Carefully."
Bucky grunted. "I'm too old for this."
"We're too old for a lot of things."
Steve leaned against the window frame as he analyzed Bucky's every move.
"I promise you’ll be fine."
"Have you heard anything from Derek?" Bucky changed the subject before hanging the coat on his shoulders.
"So far, he's been giving us signs of life without much trouble." Bucky nodded. "She still doesn't know?"
"I was hoping they would tell her something, but so far they haven't."
"Apparently, they're dumber than we thought." Bucky snorted.
"Well, I have to go pick her up. Are you staying?"
Steve was silent for a second, and Bucky realized what was going on.
"You only came because Lola is at her place, right?"
"I had no idea Lola was at her apartment."
Bucky rolled his eyes.
"Just please don't do it in my apartment... or hers."
Steve shook his head with an embarrassed smile.
Across the hall, you were finishing getting ready while Lola watched from the couch.
"So, are you two official now?" Lola asked, leafing through a book.
"You say that as if either of us had an active romantic life outside of each other." You didn't even look up from the mirror.
"Well, I think it means alot that he agreed to go with you to such a public event."
The doorbell rang, and Lola jumped up without even thinking twice. Bucky and Steve were standing at the door. You immediately shook your head, avoiding Steve's gaze.
"C'mon. You can't spend your whole life ignoring us." He pleaded
You walked straight up to Bucky, who smiled slyly when he saw you in such a state.
The blue dress you were wearing made your skin glow indescribably, and the heels you were wearing made you almost level with him.
"You look... beautiful." You smiled when you heard him say that.
"I don't think you've ever said that to me before… sober." He chuckled.
A sound of excitement escaped Lola's throat, and you covered your face in exasperation.
"Have a nice evening," Steve commented, resting his hand on Lola's lower back.
In the car, you adjusted your seatbelt while Bucky started the engine.
"Can I ask why you're so averse to the idea of Lola and Steve being together?"
"It's not—Okay. Yes, it's aversion, but not for any reason you might think."
You sighed.
"Lola and I have been friends our whole lives. She's always trusted me enough to tell me everything in detail... including her encounters."
You turned to look at Bucky with a frown.
"There was only one condition: she could never have anything with my brothers. And it was hard for her, I swear it got harder every year, but she complied. I guess now—I see Steve as a kind of brother and—seeing them together isn't a bad thing for me, but I'm not really prepared to hear what Lola has to say about… Steve."
"If it makes you feel any better, Steve would never tell me anything like that." You sighed.
"And if he does, you have to promise me. No—you have to swear to me that you'll never tell me a single detail." Bucky chuckled softly.
"Never. I'm not interested in giving details about... Steve and Lola."
When you arrived at the venue, it was a huge garden with floral arrangements everywhere and a lake at the back. The bride was a longtime friend, and her now husband—to no one's surprise—was in the military.
"Sara," You whispered in Bucky's ear gesturing towards the couple. "And that’s Joseph."
"Do you know anyone here?" Bucky asked, putting your arm around his own.
"Sure, quite a few people are from the center, or classmates."
"Hi there! I'm so glad you could come!" Sara approached, holding hands with her husband.
"I wouldn't miss this for the world."
Bucky released his grip on your arm, and she came over to hug you.
"Sara, this is James..."
Sara's blue eyes widened.
"Nice to meet you, James." She held out her hand to greet him, and he responded.
"This is Joseph." You continued, and they greeted each other in the same way.
"Nice to meet you... Congratulations?" he said, almost as if asking a question.
"Thank you, James."
After a couple of minutes of conversation, both of you went your separate ways, the bride and groom welcoming the rest of the guests while you and Bucky wandered around looking for your table.
You noticed the tension in Bucky's grip, how his shoulders hadn't relaxed since you arrived, his chest seemed inflated the whole time, and his free hand was clenching into a fist from time to time.
"Jamie, you look good, you're fine, you're doing great."
He cleared his throat and immediately tried to relax his shoulders. A waiter handed you a couple of glasses, and Bucky, in a failed attempt, took the glass without even thinking. As if the golden liquid in that glass could really help him in any way.
"Tell me you don't have many of these events often." You laughed.
"I'm sorry to say that I do."
"And why haven't you ever told me before?" He frowned.
"Every so often, I told you I was going out with Lola. Where did you think we were going?"
"I never questioned it."
A middle-aged man approached you two, interrupting the conversation. You greeted him calmly.
"Barnes," the man said with a tone of surprise. You noticed it immediately.
"James, this is the center's general manager." Bucky could only nod and shake the man's hand.
"Young lady, would you give me a minute?" You sighed and nodded. You knew exactly where the conversation was going.
"I'll be right back, Jamie." You kissed him on the cheek and walked arm in arm with the man. Bucky had no choice but to stand there staring at the floor, his hands hidden in his pockets.
"I would never in my life question one of my employees about their personal life, but do you know what you're doing?" he asked seriously.
"I think I have the clear judgment to know who I'm involved with personally. James is an incredible person whom I neither judge nor condemn for his past. I don't have the right to do that, nor does anyone else."
"And what does your family think about this?" You laughed.
"I don't think their opinion matters when I'm the one in a relationship with him."
Before the man could answer, Lockwood appeared at your side, and you then noticed that Nova was now standing next to Bucky, trying to make conversation. Blessed were the people who didn't hold James to some imaginary standard.
“I noticed you left James alone." Lockwood approached, placing his hand on your back before kissing you on the cheek.
"Yes, the doctor asked me to stay here for a few minutes to talk." Lockwood raised his eyebrow. He knew that man well and knew he always had an opinion. Even if it wasn't wanted.
"Well, you don't want to leave James alone any longer." He gently stroked your back without taking his eyes off the man.
"I’m gonna have to excuse myself." You smiled at both of them and walked over to Bucky, who was trying his best to hold a conversation with Nova.
"Is everything okay?" Bucky pulled you closer to him with a single, slight, almost imperceptible movement. Just enough for only you to feel it.
"Everything's fine, just some issues at the center." You lied. Nova noticed. That man would never talk about work outside the center, even if his life depended on it.
Nova, Lockwood, Bucky, and you were chatting at a table while dinner was being served. Bucky was doing his best to fit in, at least nodding when necessary, laughing when the moment called for it, and his hand never left your leg. It was a way for both of you to anchor yourselves.
As the conversation flowed, a man your age sat down next to you and chimed in, trying to keep the conversation going.
"Thomas, are you training again?" Nova asked the man, who used to be a personal trainer for the military. He nodded.
"With the new mission, they asked me to come back to train a couple of guys for a few weeks."
He made that clarification as if everyone knew what he was talking about, as if it were public knowledge.
"You must be very proud of Derek," the man said. "His training became more intense to get into that mission."
The man's voice made Bucky's hand go cold, and his body went numb for a few seconds.
"What mission, Thomas?" You spoke with surprise, the smile on your face still not fading.
Bucky lightly sought your hand, preparing for what was about to happen.
"Well, I thought you knew. Your brother has been in Siberia for a couple of months. They've been sending active and inactive agents there for months. They found an active HYDRA base that had been under investigation for decades, and they were finally able to infiltrate it."
Bucky swallowed hard. Months. That's why he hadn't seen him on that other mission.
"And it was just Derek?"
"Yes, he volunteered. I think your older brothers stayed behind as backup in case they were needed."
Bucky noticed. He really noticed how you tried to stay calm at that moment, how your smile never faltered, how all the feelings flowing through your body were concentrated in Bucky's hand, your grip getting tighter and tighter with each passing moment.
"Yeah, you know how my brother is. Always reckless."
The conversation flowed to another topic, as if you hadn't been told that your brother had been on another continent for months and you hadn't even been informed, not even by your family. At that moment, you turned to look at Bucky, who was avoiding your direct gaze.
"Did you know?" you asked in a whisper. He swallowed hard.
"Yes, I've known for a couple of days."
You nodded. Bucky couldn't tell if your gaze was filled with pure anger, shame, or disappointment.
An hour passed, maybe two. Neither of you counted. You did your best to keep up a calm façade, but he could tell you were getting lost in your thoughts.
"I think it's time for us to leave," Bucky said, smiling with an elegance that only he could feign at that moment. “It was a pleasure to meet you all.”
He could remember every time Raynor asked him to practice his social cues. He knew if there was a moment to do such, it was in front of a bunch of therapists and—more importantly—people who were close to you.
Lockwood and Nova nodded and smiled, and you waved goodbye to everyone, unable to do anything else.
You walked a couple of steps ahead of him.
"Your keys, Jamie." You turned to look at him without warning. Bucky stopped immediately.
"You need to calm down."
"Give me your keys, Jamie." He exhaled, taking them out of his pocket.
"Where are we going?"
"To my mom's house. If they won't give me an answer, she will."
Bucky rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"That's why you didn't see him on that mission; he was probably already in Siberia. And they never had the decency to tell me."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hiding it."
Bucky tried to reach for your hand as you walked ahead of him. You stopped and turned to look at him, and he could see your eyes soften.
"Bucky, it's not your fault. This was a family matter, and they didn't have the decency or respect to tell me. None of them."
You reached the car, and you took off your shoes. Started the car almost immediately after Bucky closed the door. You looked for your phone in your bag and, without looking up, called your mother.
"Hello, my love."
Your mother answered on the third ring.
"Ma, are you home?"
"Yes, your brothers are here too. Did something happen? Are you okay? Is James okay?"
That question made Bucky feel a certain warmth in his chest. How was it possible that a woman like that could care about him? Without realizing it, he became lost in his thoughts and noticed you speeding up the car after ending the call.
"Wait—" Bucky could only manage to say. "I can't go with you to your mother's house, especially if your brothers are there."
You paused for a moment.
"You can drop me off here, I'll call Steve to pick me up, but—"
"No." You shook your head, turning to look at him. "I know it's not ideal, but I want you by my side."
Your hands tensed on the steering wheel.
"I don't want you to think I'm dismissing your feelings, it's just—you're the only person who has treated me like a normal person in years and—”
You couldn’t help but swallow a knot in your throat.
“I know they'll make me feel like it's for my own good. I want you to be there to remind me that I'm not the weak person they see."
Bucky snorted and nodded.
The silence on the way was heavy, and when you arrived at the huge house that Bucky assumed was your mother's, you got out barefoot, and he followed you with your heels in his hand, his metal hand hidden in his pocket.
You rang the doorbell hurriedly while Bucky stayed behind, almost as if guarding you.
Your mother opened the door, but her smile grew even wider when she saw Bucky behind you.
"Where are they?" was the first thing you said before your mother could even greet you.
"What's wrong, sweetie?"
You pushed past your mother, immediately looking for your brothers. Bucky remained a few steps outside the door.
"Come in, James. I'm Darlene." He held out his hand, and she reached out far enough to hug him. "I'm so glad to see you."
"I'm sorry it has to be under these circumstances," Bucky admitted. Your mother tilted her head, not understanding.
"Why didn't you tell me where Derek was!?" Your mother's eyes widened, and she pulled Bucky by his hand to make him come inside. He quickened his pace to find the source of your voice.
There were Darlene and Bucky at the entrance to the room, watching you with your arms crossed in front of your two brothers, who had an almost guilty expression on their faces.
"Your sister didn't know!?"
‘Oh, shit.’ That was all Bucky could think of at that moment. This had reached another level.
"What is he doing here?" Noah asked, looking directly at Bucky. He took a step back.
"I let him in. And that's not the damn question. Why didn't you tell her anything about Derek?" His mother stroked her forehead. "Worse yet, why did you lie to me and say she already knew?"
You sat down on the couch. Bucky wanted to go to you, wanted to hug you, but he knew that wasn't what you needed at that moment. He knew you wanted to be seen as someone strong, not someone who needed comfort.
"I've been coming here for months, you even had a mission with Bucky, and even then you didn't have the decency to tell me anything, and worse, you lied to mom."
"We thought—" Robert began to speak.
You interrupted him immediately. "No, you decided it was better that I didn't find out."
You growled with anger.
"I had to put on my best face so that half the wedding party wouldn't find out that I had no idea my brother was in Siberia, damn it!"
"So what? Couldn't your boyfriend tell you?" Noah spat. Bucky clenched his jaw.
"He's not my brother! He didn't owe me that courtesy! You did, and you decided not to. You made a clear decision day after day not to come clean and tell me that Derek—My Derek was on a practically suicidal mission."
Darlene, who remained on Bucky’s side—caressed his arm for a second, and he tensed. Maybe the lack of self-preservation instinct ran in the family, but the way she thought he needed a kind of solace was something new for him.
"And when was it decided that I couldn't bear the thought of seeing my highly trained brother go on a mission?"
They both shrugged.
"You have to understand—you don't handle these kinds of situations well."
You sighed, turned to look at Bucky for a moment, and he nodded his head slightly, almost imperceptibly, but it was enough for you to notice and feel supported.
Darlene kept her hand on Bucky's arm, which angered the older brothers.
"You too, mom?" Noah asked, almost growling.
"Me too—what?" A serious, almost angry tone came from his mother's throat.
"Are you also going to believe that thing changed? Are you going to trust that?"
Darlene squeezed Bucky's arm for a moment. Slowly, comfortingly, making him feel safe.
It had been decades since he had felt that kind of gesture from a mother figure.
"What we're not going to do is start calling people names because of their past."
Darlene began.
"What we are going to do is start explaining why it took months before I found out that your sister wasn't aware of her brother's departure."
"So, we hide information, and we're the worst, but if Bucky does it, it wasn't his responsibility?"
"I only found out a few days ago."
He finally spoke. Somehow, he felt that Darlene's touch gave him enough confidence.
"And I didn't tell her because I was hoping you guys would do the right thing."
They both let out a sarcastic laugh. Noah took a couple of steps towards Bucky, who tried to back away, but Darlene's grip stopped him.
"You stay here," she said firmly. "How did you find out?"
"We're listed as backup if necessary. Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, and I." She nodded.
"You have no idea how much you've hurt your sister, or how much pain you're causing me," she said with pain in her voice.
Bucky fixed his gaze on you, while you rested your head in your hands, slowly stroking your hair.
"We will be having a conversation about this, but it's best if you two leave for now."
Darlene crossed her arms, and Bucky stepped aside to clear the doorway.
"Mom, would you rather have this...?"
His mother interrupted him. "Say one more word."
Noah turned to Robert and nodded his head in retreat. Darlene sighed as she watched them leave. Bucky immediately walked over to where you were and knelt down.
"Are you okay?" He stroked your knee.
"I can never get answers from them. I don't know why I keep trying."
"Do you need a moment?" Bucky asked, trying to stroke your back.
"No—I'm fine, just—" You turned to look at your mother, who was still standing in the doorway to the living room.
For the first time, Bucky saw you letting out that woman he hadn't seen that often. It made his heart feel even bigger in his chest. Why did he have the privilege of seeing you in such a fragile state?
"I'll leave you two alone for a minute," Bucky spoke softly, trying to stay calm.
Darlene led him to the kitchen, where she offered him a beer. She returned to the room where you were trying to ease your anxiety.
"Is there anything I can do to make up for this, honey?" You shook your head.
"It's not your fault, mom. They're idiots." A loud laugh tried to escape from your chest.
Darlene smiled. "So... is that James?" She tried to joke.
"Mom—"
"What? I always thought you had a type..."
She was silent for a second.
"I don't care who he was before... I can only see how much he cares about you."
She stroked your cheek before continuing.
"And the guts he has to stand in a place where he knows he's not welcome by your brothers."
"He's good, mom... Everything he did before wasn't him."
"Stop justifying him to me. I don't care about his past."
"I'm sorry, I'm so used to people attacking him."
A couple of minutes later, you got up and headed for the kitchen, while Bucky looked at the photos on the refrigerator.
Photos of you as a child, photos of the whole family, and photos of your brothers when they enlisted. Derek hadn't even changed that much since he enlisted.
"Ready to go?" You approached him, and he took you in his arms.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Yeah, I guess there's not much I can do. My mom will keep me informed, and I know that if something goes wrong, you'll tell me. Or at least I'll know if you disappear again in the middle of the night."
"You made me promise not to disappear in the middle of the night. Have you forgotten that it cost me almost two weeks of your silence?" You smiled, stood on tiptoe, and pecked his lips.
“How can I forget?” You chuckled.
“So, are we leaving?” He asked, tilting his head.
"Do you want to meet my mom before we leave?"
Bucky swallowed hard.
"Do you want me to meet her?"
"I want her to meet you." Your mother interrupted, entering the kitchen, and you jumped onto your feet, still in Bucky’s arms.
You chuckled, distancing yourself from Bucky.
"James, I'm so sorry my kids made you uncomfortable. They're good kids... they try to have good intentions even if it doesn't seem like it."
She approached and extended her hand, and Bucky shook it with a smile.
"Their father taught them to take care of her without restrictions, sometimes... they take it too seriously."
"I can understand them... I had four younger siblings."
Bucky's chest burned a little.
"Rebecca was the youngest; it was kind of different in our time. Eighty years later, I still remember her as a strong woman, someone who didn't need to be taken care of—and I was determined to take care of her against all odds."
"Would you join me for a coffee to make up for the unpleasantness?"
Bucky, still holding your waist, stared at you.
"Yes, mom. We'll stay for coffee."
"Well, now you'll have to come with me to visit my mom."
Bucky let out a painful laugh.
"I don't even know how I did this."
“You did such a great job with her.”
He chuckled.
"I can see where you got your lack of negative perception of people."
"Hey! We have to look on the bright side of things."
You settled into the passenger seat as Bucky closed the door. The silence on the way to the building was peaceful. You tried to keep your thoughts clear, tried not to think too much about Derek.
“A penny for your thoughts?"
"About Derek." You admitted. "Have you heard from him?"
Bucky nodded. "He's been reporting weekly as required. He's fine, but it's not... easy to deal with."
"Jamie... If anything happens, will you tell me?"
"If you want me to, I will."
"I need that. I need someone to truly believe that I can handle the truth..."
Bucky looked away from the road for a second.
"Look, do I think you're clumsy? Of course I do! Do I think you're careless, sometimes naïve, and too trusting? Absolutely. I'd bet my life on it.”
You were looking at him, almost offended.
“But since I've known you, I've never thought you were weak. On the contrary, I think you believe you're invincible... Sometimes more than I'd like."
Bucky took his hand off the steering wheel and rested it on your leg.
"I would never hide the truth from you just because I think you're weak or because you couldn't handle something."
"Thank you, Jamie."
He smiled and squeezed your leg lightly. A simple reminder that he was there.
Next Part.
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'Cause yesterday I drank an insanely, unhealthy, horrendous amount of caffeine —Two double espressos—in less than an hour because I needed to stay awake until bedtime after almost 48 hours of no quality sleep. Then I collapsed mentally, I puked, almost fainted, and the worst? Couldn't sleep until 2 am😭😂
Anyway, I'm alive, probably out of business till I sleep properly and feel better because my tummy is still angry and couldn't puke well to like take everything out...
