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Something that always cracks me up is when fic writers put unprotected sex in the warnings and parentheses beside it is DONT YOU DARE it always cracks me up
"the timeline throws me for a loop" "this happened way too fast" NO!!! I SAID WHAT I SAID
You're an early twenties lesbian who breaks a cute butch dyke out of prison - she's got broad shoulders, huge biceps, big wet puppydog eyes, a fat ass and a good heart. You spend two days tromping around the Undercity with her breathing in each other's fuckin pheromones and shit while she challenges your notions about the way the world works. You watch her go to town on a bowl of slop and then she flirts with you hardcore outside of a brothel after asking if you were into girls. You ALREADY KNOW what her moans sound like because that time she got gut-stabbed and you had to give her The Serum. She saved your life and carried you across a bridge when you got hurt and then you took her home and she laid on your bed with you and told you about the deep well of pain inside her and held your hand.
TWO DAYS??? AT LIKE 23 YEARS OLD? I would have been ready to sign a lease. Some of you are LYING about the fact that you wouldn't be ready to throw it all away after one "you're hot, cupcake" let alone TWO DAYS of all that
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Hi hunny bunnies! Here's a little drabble of this req from anon! I might do this in more detail a little later cause i am such a sucker for domestic!bucky.
Keep It Safe - Domestic!Bucky x Reader
not proofread, thats about the only warning.
Bucky really hadn't wanted to. He wanted to find any other way. But the tower was still crawling with Valentina's guys, the streets were nothing but press and rubble, and every other location was crawling with journalists trying to get a head start.
So he had brought them here. To the white farmhouse with red shudders that he had built himself. The house with window boxes of flowers and herbs you had planted so you could make that tea you went through so quickly it made more sense to grow your ingredients.
"Are you going to tell us what this is?" John asked, still on edge, just like everyone else.
Bucky rolled his shoulders and took a breath. "If this were my originally plan, none of you would know about this at all."
"Welcoming," Ava muttered.
"Are those chickens?" Bob asked, craning his neck to see the coop.
"Yep," Bucky said. Every step was heavy. Every step was another nail in the coffin of compromising the safety of what he loved most. "But they hate everyone except my wife."
Bob laughed for a moment. "Oh. Wait, your what-"
Bucky pulled open the screendoor and walked inside. "Sweetheart? I'm home! We have company."
"Bucky?" You called back, hurrying from the living room, your face a portrait of worry. "Oh my god, I'm so glad you're safe." You walked right up and threw your arms around his neck. "You scared me."
The others glanced at each other, but Bucky didn't bother.
"That's... an agent," Yelena noted, solving the puzzle for herself.
"You're married?!" John choked.
Bucky let loose a sigh and backed up as you subconsciously checked over him. "This is-"
A small cry of, "Daddy!" came from the bedroom down the hall, followed by the rushed patter of little feet.
And it was like Bucky’s entire demeanor just flipped. A smile burst across his face as he crouched just in time to scoop up the little girl. "There she is," he laughed, holding her tightly, rubbing her back.
You turned your attention to the people in front of you, standing in your sun-drenched kitchen. "Um... Buck?"
"What the hell," Ava deadpanned.
"Who the people?" Your little girl asked. Her honey brown hair was wild despite the fact you'd tried to tame it into pigtails this morning.
Bucky bounced her gently in his arms, his hand sliding to your lower back. "Guys, this is Y/N and Stephanie."
"Stevie!" Your little girl declared, making you smile.
"Stevie," Bucky said. "Y/N, this is John, Ava, Alexei, Yelena, and... Bob."
"Bob?" You replied.
The blonde offered a small smile and waved. "Hi."
You had every right to freak out. There was a group of dirty, bleeding, distraught looking superheroes standing in your italian tiled kitchen. And yet all you did was sigh and smile softly. "Well... Anyone want some pie?"
hiii, here’s an idea for a bucky fic!! bucky x reader where, after the fight with bob/sentry, the thunderbolts retreat to a ‘safe house’ so bucky drives them to his home, where his wife and 2yo daughter are
kinda like clint’s farm scenes from AOU
Im SO SORRY IM JUST NOW SEEING THIS!! but yes. This is happening immediately. Keep an eye out!
Summary: You're back in your hometown for the first time in a while and when your ex-boyfriend doesn't recognize you at first and plunks his hat on your head at the local bar, all hell breaks loose.
Author's note: hey hunny bunnies! So, if we can't tell, I finished Flawless by Elsie Silver the other day and I can't get Rhett Eaton out of my head, so here we go. Also if this does well I might post a part two with spice idk yall let me know k luv you
Warnings: Alcohol, a bit of angst (it's me, okay?), mentions of past sex life, cursing, not proofread. ALL ITALICS ARE FLASHBACKS
According to your Instagram, you had life all figured out once you left your hometown of Red Lodge, Montana. Going to college in Colorado for vet medicine, a good boyfriend (that you haven't posted in six months. Weird.), and a solid job at an animal care facility to keep you afloat.
Unfortunately, Instagram can be swayed. You had nothing figured out. Nothing. School was beating the life out of you, you found your boyfriend with your roommate at the beginning of the year, and that job at Woodwest Doggy Daycare? You scooped dog shit and made sure the golden retrievers and the terriers didn't procreate for twelve hours a day.
You hated it. But it was better than admitting defeat and coming back home with your tail between your legs. Unironically.
You hadn't even so much as visited home since you left four years ago. There was too much in this town that still shook you— every reminder of how horrid high school was, the cemetery that held your father's soul, and that goddamn pasture where you and your high school sweetheart used to park his truck and...
Well, whatever. That's all past now. Hopefully.
That's what you're thinking anyway as you pull into Red Lodge in your little grey Prius. When your brother called you two days ago saying your mother's health had tanked, you didn't even hesitate. Needing to be with your family overrode every other survival instinct.
Besides... Everyone that had made your life a living hell was still here and regardless of the fact it felt like shit sometimes, you still made it out. Sort of.
To see your strong willed mother as sick as she was made you feel all kinds of wrong. You were at your childhood ranch for no longer than two hours before you dug your keys from your pocket and went to the bar you used to sneak into. Only now, you can use your real I.D.
You'd been nursing some random local brew for over an hour, just staring at your glass and thinking over everything that's been thrown your way.
The old honky-tonk music of the bar was drowned out by the droning in your ears, the need to just sit and breathe, but the weight of the world was on your chest and it was just heavy enough that your lungs felt too tight.
Until the weight of a black felt brim was being dropped onto your head, pulling you from the depths of your thoughts and back into the noisy bar.
"Let me buy you another one, surely that one's gone warm," a voice as smooth and thick as whiskey drawled before he dropped himself onto the stool beside you.
You looked up, thinking surely that voice doesn't belong to who you think it is, but lo and behold the breath that you couldn't seem to take rushed in when you met those blue eyes.
He looked a little struck too. And for a moment, you saw that eighteen year old boy that you had loved with your entire soul, not the rugged man he'd obvious become in four years since you'd been to Red Lodge.
"My god," he breathed, an empty sort of laugh escaping him. "Look who finally came back to us lowly folk."
"I don't give out my answers," you said, without looking up at the boy standing over you at the lunch table.
But he dropped into the seat across from you and set down a can of raspberry iced tea. How did he know? You two had never talked before. "How did you—"
"I have my ways," he replied, then hit you with those steel blue eyes and my god, you felt it in your chest right then. You were never gonna be the same. "If you don't give out your answers, then please at least help me study. All the raspberry iced tea you want. I can't fail chemistry."
You gave him a hard stared and cracked open the can. "I guess I can negotiate. I'm—"
"I know you, sunshine," he replied, then held out his hand. "I'm Bucky."
"Bucky," you choked out, hardly able to manage much else.
"In the flesh," he replied, flicking the brim of his hat on your head. Those steel blue eyes flicked over you— from your old white button-down to your faded American Eagle blue jeans to the brown boots you still wore cause you'd spent too long breaking them in to get rid of them. "Look at you, sunshine"
You felt warmth creep into your cheeks— mainly from embarrassment of actually running into him. "You... You look good," you managed. "I didn't realize you were still here."
Bucky shrugged. "Never left," he said. "Someone had to take the property."
That made something in my head click and my heart sunk. "Oh my god, Buck... Your dad..."
He sniffed and shrugged as guys often do to brush off emotion. "Is what it is. Happened a few months after you left."
"Why didn't you call?" You asked. But that was a stupid question.
"You said you wanted a fresh start," he said, shrugging. "Who was I to get in the way of that?"
You blew out a breath, trying to formulate some coherent thought. He had a point. You knew that. You could remember it like yesterday— when you two had agreed to call it off when you left for college because long distance was too much and Bucky refused to come to the city.
Bucky blew out a breath, pushed his hat back onto his head, knocked back a mouthful of whiskey, and looked at you. "Alright, come on."
"What?" You shook your head slightly. "What are we doing?"
"You're gonna dance with me."
"I'm gonna what?"
"I'm gonna what?"
"Come on," Bucky insisted, tugging your hand to drag you into the mass of bodies dancing at the bar. It was a rodeo weekend, which meant too many people and too much alcohol, but you didn't care.
Your arms looped around his neck, his hands pressed into your hips. And when your nose brushed his and you almost kissed him— that's when he said it.
"I love you," he whispered, like it was some secret. You eventually realized he was whispering so that you were the only one who heard.
Next thing you knew, he was snaking your hand, tugging you right up against him and into the center area of the bar, where couples had gravitated towards each other in the midst of a slower melody.
The air felt thick with a million things you wanted to say, but you didn't give yourself the right. You didn't have it. You were the one that had split the two of you up, it was your decision to take the school in Colorado and not the one nearby.
You settled into him like an old habit, one hand on his shoulder, the other in his. His hands were rough, like they'd always been. But they were just as gentle and warm as they were four years ago.
"Been a while," you muttered when your feet fumbled a little at first.
He let out a soft laugh, his hand squeezing your waist. "You got it. Move with me, remember?"
You nodded. There were so many words and questions spinning in your head that none of them came out.
"How's that fancy boyfriend of yours?" he asked.
You snorted, shaking your head. "A cheating bastard."
His hands subconsciously tightened around you, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. "I can go hit him for ya."
A soft laugh escaped you at the idea. "I wouldn't make you do that."
"It'd be honest work," he replied with a small grin. That same smile that used to knock you off your feet. Apparently it still had the same effect.
"Bucky, I... I don't want this to be weird," you admitted. "I'm... I'm in town cause of my mama. She's... Well, never mind that. Point is, I don't wanna be a bother."
Bucky stared for a long moment, as if trying to read your mind.
"You always stare like that?" you asked, laughing as you sat on the bleachers beside him. "You're making me think I grew a horn."
He chuckled, dropping his head as those cheeks flushed a little. The sleeves of his flannel were rolled up. You didn't know what to make of him. Not yet, anyway. "I only stare when I see a pretty girl in need of swooning."
"I don't swoon," you said.
"Not yet," he replied.
Bucky sighed, his hand pressing to your lower back, making warmth ease through your skin. "You're not a bother, sunshine," he said quietly. "You never could be."
You wanted to say something— anything of importance, but it was so loud and hot in here... "Let's get out of here," you said before you could stop yourself.
He blinked, looking down at you.
"Not like that," You clarified. "Just... somewhere quiet. I just... I just wanna talk. I wanna catch up with my best friend. I wanna apologize with something other than Shania Twain on the jukebox."
A small chuckled escaped Bucky's lips and he didn't say anything before he was pulling right behind him, right out of that bar.
It felt surreal, honestly. Being back in his truck after all this time. It still smelled like leather and stolen cigarettes. "I can't believe she still runs," you said, curled up on the bench seat.
A grin pulled at his mouth. "I took the whole engine rebuild seriously," he said. "I couldn't bear to just part with it. Stopped smelling like you a while ago."
That made you blink. "And what exactly do I smell like?" you couldn't stop yourself from asking.
"Cherries," he said. "That cheap cherry perfume I got you for your birthday."
"I'm sorry it's not better," Bucky said, awkwardly fidgeting beside you as you pulled open the little pink package.
"Oh, hush," you replied. But when you saw the box? "Oh my god!" You jumped up from your seat, throwing your arms around his neck. "This is perfect! It's literally the one I was looking at a few weeks ago. How did you know?"
His arms tightened around your waist. "I saw you looking and grabbed it. Then prayed to god you didn't buy it yourself."
You softened, touching his face. "This is amazing. Thank you."
He leaned down and kissed you— gently. Almost reverently. "Happy birthday."
"I loved it," you said, leaning your head against the window. "I only just ran out of it a few months ago. I was obsessed."
Bucky glanced at you as he pulled the truck to a stop in the place you could've bet money on him driving to. The same little lookout over the town...
"What?" You replied softly, meeting his eyes. When he didn't answer, but just vaguely shook his head, you said, "Still have a blanket?"
He smiled and climbed out, turning up the radio so it could be heard from the truck bed. You watched him grab an old blanket from under the seats and you followed him right out of the cab.
For a moment, it felt like you were seventeen again. Loving a boy that loved you back, laying in the bed of his truck to avoid being apart just a little while longer.
But you didn't lay with his arm around you this time. Instead, you both laid there independently and stared up at the sky like it could tell you how two people so perfectly meant to be couldn't seem to just make it work.
"You remember the first time we came out here?" you asked.
"I remember every time," he replied.
"Are you sure?" he breathed against your mouth, a hand tight on your waist. You hands slid up his chest, pausing to feel his heartbeat. The heart that kept the boy you loved alive.
You could hear the music from the radio in the cab of the truck, mixed with the crickets in the field. The wind whistled through the grass, whispering against the tires.
But none of it compared to the way he was looking at you.
You fingers slid into the dark waves of his hair at the base of his neck, eyes meeting his. "I'm sure," you replied, pulling him closer. "I promise."
That had you taking a deep breath. A whisper in the back of your mind asked if maybe he was thinking about the same thing. "Us against the world," you muttered sarcastically.
"Dumb kids," he replied with a small smile.
"We had what mattered," you said.
Bucky turned his head to look at you, despite the fact you weren't meeting his eyes. Your shoulders lifted in a halfhearted shrug. "Love. For what it's worth."
"Look at me." Your stomach flipped. A deep breath filled your lungs. "Look at me, sunshine."
When you did, you were met with the most raw and honest look you'd ever seen on his face. And all you could say was, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he started.
"I am," you replied. "I- I gave this all up. I gave you up. For what? For a college I hate? In a town I can't stand, where I met a boy who decided to sleep with my roommate?" Your palms pressed to your eyes. "I am sorry. I'm not just sorry to you, but I'm sorry to me. For ever wanting to walk away from the fact I already had the world in my hands."
"Hey," he said gently, pulling your hands from your face. "I'm not mad. I never have been."
"You should be."
"I'm not." His hand cupped your face, thumb brushing along your cheek. "I just... I want another chance. I have spent every day for the past four years wishing I could go back and beg you to stay. To not let you get in that car."
For once, no words came to mind. Nothing but him. So that's what you said. "Buck..."
He let out a harsh sigh and vaguely shook his head. "Fuck," he whispered. Then he leaned down and it was like the world faded into nothing because his mouth was on yours and it felt as perfect as it always had.
This is what mattered. Him. This place. Living and breathing because you have a reason to.
When he pulled away, you were out of breath. Your cheeks felt warm and he whispered, "Stay."
author's note: hey hunny bunnies so I'm actually so excited now that we're getting into the swing of things! eek! Per usual, you can find all the warnings for the entire series in the prologue & I just posted a masterlist! if anyone wants to be added to the taglist, just comment and let me know! <3
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cursing, really slow burn at this rate im sorry
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Dad said, leaning against the counter as we sat at the kitchen island eating breakfast. I glanced at Avery beside me, who shrugged. “We have a charity gala in two weeks.”
I took a bite of my scrambled eggs. “You need us to watch Morgan?”
“The opposite, actually,” Mom said, resting her arm on Dad’s shoulder. “The organization specified that this was family attendance. Family members above the age of fifteen are required to attend. So Avery, you’ll be going with your dad, and Cassandra, you’re coming with us.”
“Won’t it just be a punch of political old men talking to each other for hours?” Avery asked.
“Mostly,” Dad said.
Mom smacked his arm, glaring at him a moment before she turned back to me. “Not necessarily. This is an opportunity for you guys to see and understand how we work with the authority in the city.”
“Dad says the authority in the city is stupid,” I replied.
Dad closed his eyes and sighed. “We’re going to spend one night pretending that we don’t think that.”
“Okay…” I said with a sigh, glancing at Avery, who was trying not to laugh.
“But it’s a black tie event,” Mom added. “So you girls need to find dresses if you don’t have any. And also maybe learn how to waltz.”
“Who am I waltzing with?” I asked.
“Probably me,” Avery said.
“Most likely.”
“You are both allowed to bring a plus one as they’d like spouses or future spouses to be involved. So give that some thought.” Mom winked at Avery.
“Can my plus one be my dazzling personality?” I deadpanned.
“As long as it stays out of my way,” Dad replied, sipping from his coffee. “Two weeks!” he called as he walked towards the elevator to go to the lab, coffee mug in one hand, the other dramatically twirling a finger in the air.. “Dresses! Waltzing!”
Mom shook her head. “Let me know if you guys need help,” she said before following him.
“That’s exciting,” I said as I climbed down from my seat to put my plate in the sink. “I haven’t been to a gala in forever."
“My last formal event was prom,” Avery replied.
I laughed. “Okay, but you looked amazing.”
“We both did.”
That night was insanity. Rhys and I had broken up at the last minute so Avery and I decided we were each other’s dates. I had more fun with her that night than I ever would’ve had if I’d gone with Rhys.
“I don’t have classes today,” I said. “Wanna go shopping? Call your boy, we’ll drag him with us.”
“I’m sure he’ll love that,” she said sarcastically, but she was pulling out her phone.
Apparently inviting JJ to shop meant he was suddenly a fashion critic because we’d been trying dresses on for an hour and a half and every single one was met with, “I don’t know,” or “that waistline is too low for you,” or my all time favorite, “are we going for washed out?”
I’d finally made my decision when both JJ and Avery had agreed that it met the bar. I was sitting on the opposite side of the couch as JJ in the fitting room when Avery walked out.
The second I saw it I knew this was it. And the fact that JJ Maybank was speechless proved my point.
It was a dark teal, satin gown with a slit nearly all the way up. It was perfect. “That’s it,” I said.
“Yeah?” she asked, running her hands down the front of her dress as she looked in the mirror. She looked at JJ who took a deep breath before answering.
“You’re— It’s gorgeous.”
Hearing him hesitate to give her a compliment was simultaneously adorable and made me want to elbow him, but I didn’t.
Her cheeks tinged pink and she nodded. Say ‘thank you’, I mouthed.
“Cool,” she said and I rubbed my forehead, rolling my eyes. Okay, we’ll work on that later.
“Okay, next!” I gathered my things and carefully picked up my dress. “Let’s get these bought and bagged. There’s a men’s section on the third floor.”
“There’s a third floor?” JJ asked.
“There’s a fourth floor too,” I replied. “But I, uh… wouldn’t recommend that one till a little further down the road.”
I patted his shoulder while Avery cursed me out, laughing as I walked away.
Avery sat at the bar, typing into her laptop while I mixed up a pan of pasta. Was it almost one in the morning? Yes. That shouldn’t stop a pasta craving, in my opinion. I had music playing quietly, the lights were low so it wasn’t too obvious that we were awake.
“This stupid— ugh,” Avery groaned, typing more aggressively.
“What happened?”
“This website for my quiz keeps crashing.” She shut the laptop and leaned over the bar to steal a cherry tomato. “I’m telling you, Cass. I can’t keep doing this.”
“So don’t.”
“Easy for you to say.”
I shrugged. “If college was dimming my quality of life that drastically, I would. I get it, Aves.”
“You took all the school smart.”
“You took the blue eyes and painting skills. Imagine my frustration.”
She laughed, picking up her phone. I walked to the fridge to grab some parsley when suddenly Avery said, “Oh, hey, Bucky.”
I stood up so fast that I cracked my head against the inside of the fridge. “Fucking bitch,” I hissed.
“Do I wanna know why she’s cussing out the refrigerator?” Bucky asked.
“I don’t know,” Avery said, giving me a pointed look.
I gave her an annoyed one in return. “I’m fine,” I said. “What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, leaning against the counter. “The usual.”
“Cass and I bought our dresses for the gala today,” Avery said, swiping through her phone.
“Oh yeah?”
You need to pull yourself together immediately.
“Yeah. Mine is teal, hers is red.”
“We went to the mall in Manhattan,” I said, trying to lighten the conversation. “That’s where Mom told us to go.”
“Interesting.” Bucky grabbed a glass and filled it with water, resting against the counter opposite of me.
“Actually,” Avery started and I could just feel the trouble coming. “Maybe it was more dark red. Like a burgundy? That’s more her color, right, Buck?”
“Definitely,” he muttered into a glass of water.
“Well, that’s kind of obvious,” I countered. “It’s the color of my hair. It’s my thing.” Change the subject, change the subject. “What I’m not looking for, however, is having to dance.”
“What do you mean?” Avery asked. “You love dancing.”
“At parties,” I corrected, rinsing a spoon in the sink. “I have a feeling congress wouldn’t love me shaking ass in the ballroom.”
“You never know,” Avery replied, causing me to roll my eyes.
“You don’t know how to slow dance?” Bucky asked.
“Not well,” I replied. “Certainly not standard for this sort of thing. Never did it at prom. The slow songs were considered water breaks.”
Avery snorted. Then I saw the most evil smile take over her face. “Bucky can teach you.”
I stared at her hard. “Avery.”
“What? It’s true. I’ve seen it! And Dad talks all the time about when they would go to dances with girls when they were teenagers.”
I took a breath to keep from jumping over the counter and strangling her. “It’s fine,” I said, shrugging. “I’ll keep to myself and I’ll survive. And if I’m lucky, no one will even ask.”
“You should probably know just in case,” Bucky said.
Finally, I looked at him. His hair was a little messy— probably from tossing and turning. I watched him shrug and extend his hand. And I was vaguely aware of Avery gathering her things and leaving the kitchen.
I sighed and carefully took his hand.
“Try not to overthink it,” he said as he stepped closer and guided my hand that wasn’t in his to his shoulder. Suddenly I was hyperaware of every part of him I could feel— the skin of his palm against mine, where metal met flesh under the fabric of his black t-shirt. It was dizzying and all-consuming. “It’s not supposed to be stiff, or awkward.”
“Unfortunate that I’m both of those things,” I replied and he cracked the smallest smile.
His free hand came to my waist and ever so gently helped me to sway to the music. “No, you’re not,” Bucky said. “Nice try, though. Let me lead.”
I looked up at him, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing. “I’m doing my best,” I joked.
“I know. Move your feet. You’re doing good, sweetheart, I promise.” He squeezed my waist. “Loosen up a little bit. It’s just me.”
He had no idea how much meaning that actually held. I nodded and eased into him a little bit. I felt myself relax, my hand on his shoulder sliding more towards his neck.
“Okay, maybe I was being a little dramatic,” I admitted quietly. “This isn’t that bad.”
“There you go,” Bucky said, but his voice was lower, softer. Like he wasn’t entirely focused on what he was saying anymore.
I felt his hand slide to my lower back, guiding me closer. Suddenly my whole world was confined to this kitchen and the way he was holding me.
Part of me was terrified that someone would walk in, but the majority didn’t give a single shit. Not when his fingers were tracing circles where they rested against my waist and I could feel him watching me.
On a burst of confidence, I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. There were a million things in that look— none of which I could decipher. We were dangerously close. One wrong move…
The song slowed to a stop and we stopped moving but he was still holding me. “Cass…” he started. “I, uh… I should go to bed.”
I nodded. “Me too.”
When he stepped away from me, it was like all warmth left my body, though I was still reeling.
“Bucky,” I said as he stopped in the doorway of the kitchen. “Thank you.” “Anytime."
The second I heard his bedroom door shut, I probably collapsed against the cabinets and whispered to myself, “What the fuck am I doing?”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Money, Sex, Power. Love that's not supposed to be.
Cassandra Stark is a twenty year old up and coming model in Manhattan, New York. She's used to the spotlight- She's been in it her whole life, alongside her best friend.
Cass is the party heiress that intimidates a room just by walking in. She doesn't bond, doesn't care, doesn't love.
Until one thing leads to another and suddenly her best friend's uncle, her father's enemy, the only man she should absolutely not want is the one pulling her in. And Cassandra is left to discover that being loved right can set a lot of things straight.
Or not.
Warnings:
alcohol use, mentions of past SA, violence, descriptions of wounds and blood, past DV abuse, explicit language, unplanned pregnancy (not upon the main character), drug use, brief heavy alcoholism, smoking, descriptions of nightmares, hints at EDs, eventual smut
You guys are gonna hate me, but I've had stucky on my mind a lot lately and been continuously infuriated about Steve leaving Bucky, so to cope I wrote a letter I think Steve would've given him before he left. Apologies in advance, love ya
Buck,
For some sort of hero, it’s a shame that I have to admit it would’ve killed me to say all of this to your face. The world has forced me to be selfless despite all my losses and I will be selfish and a coward this once and leave you words to read, not sentences to hear.
Please don’t think that this won’t hurt me too. Don’t ever think that I am walking away from you happy to be away from you. You are the better half of my soul, Buck. And in some other life I really would’ve liked for it to have been you.
Maybe if we’d been born in this century and not the one we were, it could’ve been different. Maybe I could’ve loved you as fearlessly as people love who they want in this century. Maybe I could’ve saved you sooner and loved you better.
I think often about the fact that you were the one who kept me safe when I couldn’t do that for myself. All these people, these friends of ours, they’re great. But they didn’t save me the way you did— not back then, and not now. You alone were my sole to keep moving, keep trying. You were my soul’s reason, and that should be reason enough for you to forgive yourself for all you’ve done.
My only wish is that one day, you find peace and forgive yourself the way I have. View yourself with the sincerity and grace you once viewed me when I was a no one kid from Brooklyn trying to make a difference.
I worry if I hold this pen much longer, I’ll go on forever with all the things I’ve never dared to say out loud to you. But I’ll leave you with this— in every life, till the end of the line. My cowardly hands write this to be read and refuse to speak, but I mean it nonetheless: I love you, James Barnes. Forever and a day.
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summary: bucky goes back to you after the void incident
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
word count: 3.7k
tags: thunderbolts* spoilers!, vague void experience on purpose (for the full x reader experience), sam is back and he's pissed, fluff and fluff and more fluff (love is in the air people!), comfort, kissing, things get heated at the end but no actual smut is included (i think i'll make another part exclusively for the smut lovers, so the people that don't read smut can still enjoy this part)
please reblog and/or comment in you enjoy!
all masterlists | marvel masterlist | previous part
You gasp, snapping back to reality after...whatever the fuck just happened, trying to catch your breath in hopes of easing your headache and slow your heart rate. The broom you were using to clean up your apartment lays on the floor next to you, everything looking the exact same as it was when you left.
It cannot possibly be another Thanos situation, right? That time it felt like you just blinked, but now it feels like you've been gone for long tortuous hours. That time your roommate almost had a heart attack when you knocked on the door of your shared apartment because she thought she’d never see you again. And you certainly don't remember anything about experiencing the blip. Now...now you wish you could forget what you saw back there.
You were forced to experience the most traumatizing memories playing in a loop over and over again until all you could do is sit in a corner and cry as you beg for the images to go away. A horrifying display of the darkest moments of your life. The times you felt more unhappy and hopeless. And every time you thought you’d managed to escape, you’d just end up in yet another memory.
But somehow you're back in your apartment now. Everything looks the exact same and it seems like no time has passed.
Still, even when it seemingly feels like you're safe, you can't help but feel uneasy. The thought of what you saw is still very much present in the back of your mind, replaying over and over again, taking over your senses and clouding your judgement.
What if this is just another trick and you’re about to experience another horrible memory? You look around your apartment, too afraid to move, expecting to see something that confirms that you’re still stuck in this never-ending nightmare. That you’ll have to stay in this place for the rest of your life.
The unexpected buzzing of your phone makes you jump, snapping you back to reality as you frantically search for it. Quickly spotting it on top of your dinner table, you keep wondering what the hell is happening as you read Sam's name on your screen.
“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU LIKE CRAZY,” you hear him shout on the other line as soon as you picked up, sounding incredibly agitated.
“I'm sorry, I...I don't exactly know what happened,” you mutter, staring outside the window in hopes of seeing something out there that might give you any clues of what is going on. To your surprise, you can see a few ambulances speeding past your street and you can spot a large cloud of smoke in the distance.
Bucky and the others are most likely involved in that commotion. You can only hope that they’re okay, still having no updates. You can’t really tell how much time has passed since they left, so you can’t know for sure when Bucky is going to show up.
“The entirety of New York just went black,” he explains. “It just looked like darkness.”
“What?” you ask in disbelief. “I don't remember anything about it. I was just cleaning up my apartment and then somehow I was in...I don't even know what it was. It was like purgatory or something.”
“What do you mean?”
You sigh, not really wanting to go into too much detail about the stuff you had to witness. Honestly, you wish you could just forget it. “It was like being tortured, Sam. I don't know what it was, just that it was awful. I was cleaning my apartment and that's pretty much the last thing I remember before waking up in that place.”
There's a brief silence and for a second you thought perhaps the call was disconnected, but you suddenly hear Sam's voice again. “Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me!”
“What happened?” you say, evidently confused.
“Put on the news,” he sighs, muttering something else under his breath you can't quite hear correctly. “I gotta go, but I'll talk to you later, okay?” he says in a ruther rushed voice, sounding both pissed and worried. “Take care.”
“Sure. Bye, Sam.”
You hang up the phone as you sit on your couch, TV remote in your hand as you search for any news broadcast that's on. As soon as you find one, you stare at it in disbelief. There, in the middle of a street, is Valentina giving some bullshit speech you don't really care to pay attention to, and behind her stands the entire group of people that were in your apartment just seconds (or minutes? Hours?) ago, joined by a blonde guy you have never seen before.
They look exhausted and visibly confused to be in front of so many cameras. Bucky and Yelena look particularly pissed. But what matters the most to you is that they're all alive.
The next thing that really catches your attention is the text on the banner beneath the image. 'Introducing the New Avengers'.
What the hell is really going on right now?
The broadcast finally ended, and it doesn't take Bucky that long to arrive. All he wanted to do was to get away from Valentina and all the press that just kept taking pictures of him and the others. He barely even acknowledged the rest of the group, leaving as soon as possible. All he wants right now is to see you and make sure you're okay. He knows you're probably safe– of course you are, but he won't be calm until he's standing before you to make sure you really are unharmed.
He walks inside your apartment and immediately walks towards you, grabbing your face with both of his hands as soon as he's standing in front of you, frantically scanning your face for any sight of hurt or discomfort. It's almost as if you were the one out there fighting.
“Are you okay?” he asks, slightly out of breath, still not letting you go.
“Yes, I'm okay,” you reply with a reassuring smile, and he immediately pulls you in for a hug. “How are you?”
“Uh...as good as I can be.”
His arms are still tightly wrapped around you, not wanting to let you go any time soon. Yes, he’s holding onto you because it’s a huge relief to confirm that you’re safe, but it also brings him an enormous amount of comfort, which is what he was craving ever since he stepped foot into the void.
“What kind of answer is that?”
“I don't know. It's been a lot. I was so worried about you.”
“I was so worried about you!”
He pulls away just enough, and you almost want to roll your eyes at the playful smirk on his face. “Don't try to make this a competition.”
“I won't make it a competition because I would obviously win,” you reply, exasperated. “I wasn't the one who was out there fighting...what was the guy's name again?”
“Sentry.” There’s a brief pause, his expression hardening considerably. “Were you there too?”
You get even more exasperated because you still don't understand shit. “Where?”
“The void.”
Realization hits you right there. The entirety of New York being consumed by darkness as Sam explained over the phone, the horrible things you had to see...of course a place like that would have such a fitting name. It felt exactly like it. You just felt empty and alone.
“So that's what it was. And the entire city was experiencing the same thing?” you ask, still in complete disbelief at the idea of one person having that much power. It certainly is a terrifying and dangerous ability to have.
Then, after a quick pause, you realize Bucky had to experience that too, immediately hating the idea of him having to endure that. "Were you...?"
Bucky notices the shift in your expression, offering you a weak smile. “Yeah, we were all there.”
You don't know what to say at first. If you thought you had a hard time in there, you can't even begin to imagine the horrors Bucky was forced to watch over and over again. It breaks your heart to think about it. Even when he has made a lot of progress when it comes to healing from his past and learning to forgive himself, it doesn't mean the pain and guilt are not there.
“I'm so sorry,” is all you can say, feeling completely useless at that moment. Sorry doesn't make it better in any way.
“It's okay. It's not like this is the first time I've been there.”
His last statement absolutely crushes you. If you could find a way to take all of that burden off his shoulders, you'll do it in a heartbeat. Still feeling completely useless, you decide to pull him in for another hug, because at least that’s doing a little more than just saying you’re sorry.
“I wish I could do more to make you feel better,” you whisper, feeling his fingers gently running through your hair in an affectionate manner, kissing the top of your head.
“Being here with you is more than enough,” he whispers back. “You are more than enough."
“Oh, please don't make me cry now,” you warm him with a soft giggle, feeling like a few tears might actually come out any second now.
The sound of Bucky's laugh makes you feel just a hundred times better about the entire situation involving that stupid void, loving to hear it under such circumstances. It's impossible not to feel overwhelmed right now. That place really left you feeling like an emotional mess.
You move back from the hug just enough and Bucky takes that as his opportunity to pull you in for a kiss. The type of kiss that makes your knees weak and leaves your mind completely blank. A kiss you see in a movie with fireworks adorning the night sky, right before the end credits roll. One that feels like he's been dying to give you a kiss since he closed the door of your apartment before New York was consumed by darkness.
A kiss that shows you he really does mean it when he says you are more than enough.
“I'm really happy you're okay,” he mutters right after the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.
I love you. That's all you can think of in this moment, and it takes everything in you not to say it out loud because how fucking insane would that be? To not even be an official couple and already say such a thing? Perhaps it wouldn't be so crazy given you've been best friends for so many years (and you've had a crush on him for most of them), but still. It's just too soon. Too weird. Too intense.
The fucking void really did numbers on you. Just get it together, please!
“I'm happy you're okay too,” is what you say instead, which sounds appropriate. And not weird. And not intense at all.
You offer to make him a snack after all that happened, forcing him to take a seat when he said he could do it himself. As you prepared a few sandwiches, he tried to explain as much as possible about everything that's been going on.
“So Bob doesn't remember anything?” you ask once he's done, just as you're handing him a plate with two grilled cheese sandwiches.
“Apparently,” he replies, right before leaning over the counter to give you a quick kiss as a way of thanking you for the food.
“Well, that's probably for the best, right? I mean if the Sentry part returns, it's only a matter of time until the Void part wants to have a bit of fun again too.”
He practically devours one of the sandwiches, looking like he hasn't eaten in centuries. “Probably,” he says nonchalantly, clearly more focused on eating. It's impossible to blame him for it, especially considering everything he's been through today.
You can't help but smile at the image of him eating the sandwiches like he's been deprived of food his entire life. So much so that he can barely hold a conversation.
I love you. It's like you just couldn't hold yourself back from wanting to blurt those three little words once again. Like it's physically impossible to hold them in. It doesn’t matter if he’s saying cute things to you or if he’s eating like a caveman. You love both sides of him.
But you can't say it. You can't be weird.
Instead, you try a much more appropriate approach once again. “You're so cute,” you say with a smile, moving closer to run a hand through his hair affectionately. Then, you suddenly remember something that you two haven't discussed yet, and your 'I'm-so-down-bad' smile turns into a 'just-thought-of-the-best-joke-ever' smirk. “Might as well start calling you the cutest Avenger, huh?”
He turns to look at you with a soft grin on his face, immediately shaking his head. “Please, tell me you didn't see that.”
“Oh, but of course I did!” You take a seat next to him on your kitchen counter, getting more comfortable to continue teasing him. “The news called you ‘The New Avengers’. Who would’ve thought!”
“It was all Valentina's plan to save her ass.”
“So you guys are not going to accept the title?”
“We are, but we still need to have a few meetings to set some rules if we plan on working together…and boundaries.”
“Oh, don’t act like you’re so irritated by the idea! I can tell you’re starting to feel more comfortable around them.”
He’s completely silent for a few seconds, knowing he can’t lie without you noticing. “Okay. They might be growing on me.”
“Awwh,” you reply, but not with the intention of making fun of him. “I thought they were very nice. And I'm glad you're making new friends.”
“You're never gonna stop teasing me about any of these, aren't you?”
“Well...yeah, but I actually mean it when I say I like seeing you meeting new people,” you reply, changing your tone and demeanor to let him know you're serious. “And yes, I'll tease you about the whole Avengers thing, but that doesn't mean I'm not excited to witness this new chapter in your life.”
You begin gently caressing his arm as you offer him a sincere smile. “You deserve it. You deserve to be recognized for your kind heart and your willingness to help others,” you continue. “I'm so proud of how far you've come. And I'm sure Steve is proud of you too.”
The mention of his childhood friend brings a melancholy to his expression that is both sad and beautiful to see. It shows he still deeply misses him, but has learned to think of him without breaking down. It's the type of expression you have when you've finally found peace with the fact that someone you love is not around anymore...not entirely around, at least. He'll always carry a part of Steve Rogers with him.
"Thank you," he says, genuinely meaning it.
I love you. Those three words threaten to make their way into your conversation again, but this time it's not you the one fighting back the urge to say them.
But It's just a little too soon, right? Last thing he wants is to make things awkward between the two of you. So he decides not to say anything, just like you have decided twice already.
You smile, standing up from your seat. “Finish eating, okay? I have to clean the mess the New Avengers left in my living room earlier.”
“Yeah, you'll have to get used to that, unfortunately.”
“Like I haven't had to deal with that before,” you joke, hinting back at all the times you had people like Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton randomly showing up at your place.
Bucky stays in your kitchen while you finish brooming until you’re sure the floor of your living room is impeccable, familiarity slowly setting in after everything that happened today. You could faintly hear Bucky having a phone call with someone, but you couldn't quite make the words out over the music you had playing on your own phone to make the cleaning much more entertaining.
You go back to your kitchen to throw away the dirt and dust you collected from the living room, just in time to see Bucky standing up to wash the dish he used, sandwiches long gone.
“I just got a call from Sam,” Bucky says as soon as he notices you, his tone letting you know it wasn't exactly a pleasant conversation.
“What did he want?”
“For us to immediately backtrack and not go through with the whole Avengers thing.”
“Yeah, he called me just as it was airing and he didn't sound too happy about it. What are you going to do?”
Bucky sighs, exhaustion visible in his demeanor. “I'll talk to him later. I don't think anyone in the team feels like backtracking right now. Most of them looked pretty excited actually.” You can't help but smile, which makes him let out a soft chuckle. “What?”
“You said 'the team'. I just thought it was cute,” you shrug, crossing your arms across your chest. “I should invite them for a pizza night or something. Get to know them a little better. And meet this Bob guy too.”
“You'll invite John?” he asks, half-joking.
“Please don't call him John,” you immediately reply, squinting your nose in disgust. “I'll have to warm up to him...very slowly. I still feel like punching him in the face when I see him.”
“That's fair,” he agrees with you, perfectly understanding where your discomfort with John Walker's presence comes from. Perhaps that might explain some of the reasons as to why Sam seems so against the idea of this team being a thing.
You notice Bucky walks towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Even when the possible pizza night sounds exciting, I kind of just want to think about the two of us spending time together alone,” he says, grinning mischievously.
A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his fingers near your neck, gently pulling the fabric of your hoodie to the side, exposing more of your collarbone. He places a few kisses there. Slow and careful.
“Perhaps I can stay here with you for a few more days?” he suggests, right before leaving another kiss on your skin, using his other hand that’s firmly placed on your lower back to bring your body closer to his.
“Of course you can stay,” you reply in a soft voice, trying not to let it show just how much his actions are affecting you.
He practically hums against your skin. “Do you want me to stay?” he whispers, definitely making you shiver now that his metal fingers are tracing lazy patterns on your skin, underneath your hoodie. What a teasing piece of shit.
It’s almost impossible to speak now. “Yes.”
His fingers trail further up your spine, but not that much higher. Just enough to allow you to feel his touch in a slightly different place, making you crave for more. A silent reminder that he can just move his fingers wherever he pleases, but he deliberately chooses not to grant you that pleasure.
“Then say it properly.”
It’s not a suggestion or a plea. It’s straight up an instruction. And he sounds like he’s absolutely certain that you’ll do exactly as he says.
And you do. “I want you to stay here with me.”
The kisses on your neck continue and it feels like a reward, so you just stand there and enjoy it, allowing him to worship your skin with his lips until you're practically trapped between his body and the counter.
You can feel your cheeks burning red, the warmth spreading to the rest of your body with each kiss. “Don't you want to take a shower?” you try being a voice of reason, your brain just doing whatever it can to help you feel less nervous.
“Why? You're thinking about joining me?” he whispers against your skin, which immediately makes you regret ever opening your mouth because what the fuck is wrong with him and how does he dare to say something like that?
Okay. To justify your growing nerves, you've technically never been fully intimate with Bucky yet. You've been pretty close because a girl can only hold back for so long, but the two of you have been mainly focusing on your emotional connection and that one is just so mind-blowingly special that there hasn't been a need to immediately jump to the physical aspects of your relationship.
But oh, is he tasting your limits right now...
“How you even have the energy right now is beyond me,” you comment again. You're not against the idea of something happening, but your nervous brain gets the best of you so you find yourself blurting out random things yet again.
Finally, Bucky moves away just enough, a playful smile adorning his lips. “I'll always have the energy for you,” he replies, and the implication behind his words has you blushing even harder.
You immediately hide your face in his chest while he wraps his arms around you, laughing at your reaction. “I hate you,” you mutter.
“No, you don't.”
That's true. You really don't hate him at all. It's actually quite the opposite, but you can already picture him walking out the front door if he hears you say how you truly feel about him. The thought of daring to confess you love him is a thousand times more terrifying than the idea of having sex with him for the first time.
You look up, smiling up at him when he kisses your forehead. “No, I don't.”
“Glad to see you're agreeing with me for once in your life,” he comments playfully.
“Don't push it,” you warn him, making him laugh once again.
“How about I take a shower like you suggested and then we take a nap together,” he suggests casually, still keeping his arms around you. “I think we can both use a little sleep.”
“Yeah, a nap sounds good.”
“Wow, two in a row! What has gotten into you?” he jokes yet again, trying to get you to stay in his arms when you start to push him away after that little comment, but he doesn't put up that much resistance, so you're eventually getting away from him.
“You're insufferable,” you comment in an obviously fake tone of annoyance, right before leaving the kitchen to head towards your bedroom.
“And you're beautiful,” he replies with a genuine smile, following after you.
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