i keep going back for more…

It wasn’t the missed dinner reservation that stung.

Or the fact that Y/N had spent the whole afternoon curling her hair, soft makeup dusted across her cheeks, slipping into a dress that still had the boutique tag on it from six months ago.

It wasn’t even the fact that she had reminded him.

Twice.

No—what hurt most was the silence. The way he walked into their shared apartment like it was any other day. Tossed his jacket on the hook. Pulled his boots off with a tired sigh. Didn’t even look her way before muttering something about “another long day at the compound” and disappearing into the kitchen.

No kiss.

No smile.

No “Happy anniversary, doll.”

Y/N stood there like an idiot, one hand lightly brushing the necklace she wore—his wedding gift to her last year. A single gold charm in the shape of a star, for the one he always said guided him home.

Tonight, he hadn’t even noticed it.

She told herself it was fine. That he was tired. That maybe Steve had needed him or Sam got on his nerves again or there was another mission briefing he couldn’t get out of. Maybe he'd planned something but was waiting until later. Midnight surprise. A private dinner in the park. Anything.

But when she padded quietly to the kitchen and found him elbows-deep in leftover pizza from the fridge, her heart sank.

There was no secret plan.

No gift tucked away in a drawer.

Not even a flicker of recognition when she softly said, “Hey, um… do you know what today is?”

Bucky looked up with a mouth full of pepperoni and blinked.

“Uh… Thursday?”

Her throat closed.

She gave him a tight smile. “Yeah. Thursday.”

And then she turned before he could see her eyes water and walked straight to the bathroom, locking the door with shaking hands.

She sat on the edge of the tub, trying to breathe through it.

It wasn’t about the anniversary, not really. It was the feeling that always followed her like a shadow, no matter how many years had passed since Hydra or how much healing she thought she’d done. The feeling of being forgettable.

Unseen.

As if she was only important when someone needed her. A tool, not a person.

Her past was paved with broken promises and missed birthdays. Foster homes that “forgot” to pick her up from school. Scientists who treated her like a number. People who never looked twice.

And tonight—he had forgotten.

The one person who always saw her. The man who’d held her in the middle of the night when she couldn’t stop shaking. Who traced her scars like they were constellations. Who married her with a trembling voice and a look in his eyes that promised forever.

He forgot.

She wiped her eyes quickly and stood. No breakdown. No spiral. Just—quiet. She opened the cabinet, pulled out a pack of makeup wipes, and began erasing the hours she spent trying to look like someone worth remembering.

Bucky noticed too late.

Way too late.

It wasn’t until he heard the sink running that he glanced at the clock on the microwave—and froze.

April 3rd.

His chest went cold.

“Shit.”

He dropped the half-eaten slice of pizza, heart racing. Panic bloomed in his throat as he ran through every second of the day—had she said something? Had he missed the signs?

Of course he had. Because he was tired and distracted and so sure he’d set a reminder but hadn’t. His phone was on silent all day. He hadn’t even looked at the date.

He sprinted down the hall, knocking lightly on the bathroom door.

“Doll?”

No answer.

His gut twisted.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I—can I come in?”

Still nothing.

He pressed his forehead against the door. “Please.”

There was a pause. Then the lock clicked softly.

The door cracked open a sliver.

She stood in the doorway, in her pajamas now. Her hair pinned up, makeup gone, eyes rimmed pink. The star necklace was gone.

His heart broke in real time.

“I forgot,” he said immediately, voice raw. “I forgot, and I’m so fucking sorry.”

She didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stared at him with the saddest smile he’d ever seen.

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

“No. It’s not.” He reached for her, hesitating just before his hands touched her arms. “Please, baby. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t—dammit, I was gonna plan something, I swear. I just…”

She looked down.

He finally touched her—soft hands sliding to her waist, pulling her close. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s not just the date, Bucky.”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Her voice cracked. “Because when you forgot, it felt like I wasn’t important. Like I was just another thing that didn’t matter unless someone needed me. And I know that’s not true. I know you love me. But my brain still goes there. It still whispers all those awful things I grew up hearing.”

He hugged her tighter. “You do matter. More than anything. I don’t deserve you, but I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. And I will spend every single day proving that to you. Even on the days I fuck it up.”

Her arms curled around his waist, and she buried her face in his chest.

He kissed her hair, voice muffled against her. “I’ll make it right.”

“You already are,” she murmured.

That night, Bucky dragged the couch cushions to the floor and made a makeshift fort in their living room with twinkly fairy lights and every blanket they owned. He heated up hot cocoa. Made her sit on a pile of pillows while he massaged her feet and read her poetry from one of the books he’d gotten her last Christmas.

And when she fell asleep curled into his side, his heart aching from the guilt, he whispered into her hair:

“I’ll never forget again. You’re unforgettable, doll. Even when I’m an idiot.”

She stirred slightly, her fingers clutching his shirt.

But it didn't matter because you love Bucky Barnes.

And he was marrying someone else.

You stared out the window from where you rested in bed and watched as the sun brightened your room. The rays danced around the space and cast a brilliant glow as it tried to wrap you in a warm embrace. It was a false sense of comfort as it did nothing to soothe the eclipse that had taken over your heart.

Of course, it was a beautiful day. You expected nothing less for the wedding of the year. The Barnes family demanded the best life has to offer and even Mother Nature seemed to listen.

But I'm not good enough for you, Bucky, am I?

Your phone had gone off numerous times since you woke up and you grudgingly reached over to check it. You probably should've shut it off. With a bittersweet smile, you read through one of your group chats.

Monica aka Cap: Hey. You doing okay?

Helen aka Doc: Do you want us to stop by?

Brunhilde aka Valkyrie: We can kick Bucky’s ass first. Just give us the word.

A watery laugh bubbled up. Monica, Helen, and Brunnhilde were three of your oldest friends. Brilliant, beautiful, strong women who were ready to defend or help you without a second thought. They were practically family at this point. You knew they’d be bridesmaids in your wedding one day.

But today wasn't that day.

You: I love all of you, but I just need to be alone today. Sorry.

You refused to look at any of the other messages. Talking wouldn't make you feel any better and you weren't looking for sympathy or comfort. The only plans you had today were to cry over romantic comedies and eat a pint of ice cream.

What better way to celebrate than to wallow in your self-pity?

The creak of your bedroom door made you turn your head. You weren't expecting anyone, but it didn't surprise you when Natasha wordlessly walked in. Her younger sister, Yelena, was right behind her with a garment bag in her hand.

They had become your friends thanks to him.

They would've been bridesmaids, too.

“Good. You're awake,” Natasha said, crossing her arms when you didn't acknowledge her. “Are you getting up?”

You imagined sinking into the mattress, but you couldn't hide them. “No, I'm fine right here.”

“Not fine. Get up. Big day ahead,” Yelena urged, mimicking her sister's stance.

You slowly sat up and glared at the two women at the foot of your bed. They were friends, but they were also dangerous. Not many had the guts to stare them down, but you were too upset to care. “I don't have a big day ahead, so what exactly are you doing here?”

“We need to get you ready for the wedding,” Natasha answered.

You huffed and put your head back on the pillow. “I'm not going. I'm sulking alone. So sorry you wasted your time by coming here.”

Yelena tugged on the blanket before you could cover yourself up. “Why not? Could be fun.”

You weren't sure whether to burst out laughing or burst into tears at her joke.

“I RSVP'd that I wouldn't be there,” you pointed out.

“You wrote 'kindly fuck off' instead of checking off yes or no,” Natasha said.

Yelena snorted as her sister raised an eyebrow at her. You tried to avoid anything Bucky related, as difficult as it was. And then you got the invitation. Your reaction wasn't your finest moment, but receiving it was like reopening the wound.

If you went to Bucky's wedding and watched him marry someone else, you'd shatter. Even if you managed to put yourself back together, you wouldn't be the same. How could they ask that of you?

Why couldn't they let you mend your broken heart on your own terms?

“I'm not going, Nat,” you whispered, wishing she would drop it. “It's cruel that I was invited and you're making it worse.”

There was sorrow in her eyes as she regarded you, a look you didn't see often. It shook your resolve. One of the reasons Bucky valued Natasha was because of her ability to get things done. Whether by words or force, she knew how to push to get people to go in her direction.

“You have to. Please, he needs you,” Natasha said carefully.

Your eyes flashed with rage as you swung your legs over the side of your bed to stand. “He needs me? Are you fucking kidding me?”

The redhead held her hands up, but the gesture didn't calm you. “Please, listen.”

“No! He dumped me. Why the hell should I go to his wedding?”

“She makes a good point.”

“Not helping, Yelena,” Natasha grumbled.

“Bucky doesn't need me in his life,” your voice cracked before you swallowed the lump in your throat. “He made that very clear.”

Bucky didn't kiss you when he went into your apartment that day.

Ever since you started dating, he always greeted you with a kiss. The way his lips moved against yours indicated what kind of day he had. Judging by the haunted look in his eyes, you expected him to smother you with a needy, demanding kiss. But he bypassed you completely and sat on the other end of the couch like he was trying to put distance between the two of you.

“What's wrong?” You asked as you moved to sit beside him. His hair was disheveled like he had been pulling at it. He did that when he was really angry or upset. “Bucky?”

He brought a hand up and touched your cheek, your own hand moving instinctively to cover his. When he leaned like he was going to kiss you, he only rested his forehead against yours. His breath tickled your lips, but the shudder that wracked his frame worried you as he pulled away. It felt like a wordless goodbye.

You didn't want to experience that ever again.

“Talk to me, please.”

He clasped his hands together and stared straight ahead. You wouldn't have known he was breathing if you hadn't seen the slight movement in his chest. The silence began to get uncomfortable, which was a first. The quiet moments were usually serene.

“I'm getting married.“

Was it possible for someone to pull the rug out from under you if you weren't standing?

“You're what?” You asked.

“Please, don't make me say it again.“

“I don't understand,“ you said, trying to make sense of the bombshell he dropped.

“My dad. He arranged it.”

You bristled at the mention of his dad. He was the head of one of the most powerful families in the city. Most feared him, but you couldn't stand him. When he realized that while your family had some wealth and power, it wasn't enough for his firstborn son. He told him you were nothing more than a phase. A bed warmer. He didn't even wait until you left the room to voice his disdain.

Bucky didn't bring you around much after that, which you didn't object to. The one meeting was more than enough. He assured you that the wedge between him and his father started long before you entered the picture, especially after the death of his mother. He also promised his dad's opinion wouldn't change a thing about how he felt and that his mom would've adored you.

“I take it he didn't arrange for you to marry me?” You asked, doing your best to crack a smile.

He didn't smile back. He hardly looked at you.

“Sophia Genovese is going to be my wife,” he answered neutrally, but his jaw clenched. “Her engagement fell through, so my dad arranged for me to take her ex-fiance's place.”

Bucky mentioned her in passing. Not only did she come from an extremely powerful family, but she was beautiful, sophisticated, and as close to perfection as anyone could get. His dad had everything to gain from a marriage like that.

Everything he couldn't get with you.

“You can say 'no', right?” You asked hopefully. Stupidly. “You don't have to go through with it.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, pushing himself up as your stomach churned. “Which is why we can't see each other anymore.”

Your world didn't fall to pieces. Instead, you floated slowly in the air. Bucky remained on the ground as you drifted away, just out of reach when you tried to touch him. That was when you felt the first crack in the foundation.

A slow destruction with the man you love at the root.

“No. No. We're not breaking up,” you said.

“We have to,” he said, still not facing you.

It took you a moment to get to your feet with how your head spun. “No, we don't. I-I can talk to your dad? I know he doesn't want you to be with me, but if you don't want to marry her-”

“Talk to my dad?” He cut you off as he turned toward you, a flash of panic in his eyes before a soft laugh crept from his throat. “Are you kidding?”

“No, I'm not. Maybe he can see reason?“ You asked as he shook his head. “Or we could leave.“

“Leave?” He repeated, looking down at your hand as you reached out for him. The panic you saw in his eyes moments ago resurfaced, which he quickly blinked away to replace his expression with a hardened mask. “Are you asking me to choose between you and my family?”

“We can go anywhere we want. I don't care where,” you said. You'd live in a shack as long as it was with him. “And I'm not asking you to choose between me and your dad. If anything, I'm asking you to choose love. It wouldn't be forever if we left. It would be until we can figure it out.”

“There's nothing for us to figure out. The deal is done,” he said dismissively, jerking his hand away so quickly you almost fell forward. He couldn't mean that. “And so are we.”

You wished for a moment that you could go numb to not feel the piercing pain in your heart.

Why isn't he fighting for me? For us?

“Bucky, we love each other,” you whispered as tears sprang to your eyes.

“And we were naive to think we could be together,” he stated, his voice void of any emotion.

You could take rage or sorrow, but not his indifference.

“So, that's it?” You asked as the tears spilled over. “You're giving up on us? You're walking away?”

“It's better this way,” he said, hesitating as he lifted his hand. He quickly dropped it when you began to wipe at your cheeks. “I know you don't think that now, but it is. You'll find someone who can be with you and I'll find a way to make it work with Sophia.”

“Oh, yeah, I'm sure you'll find it really easy to make it work since she's perfect,” you mumbled. You tried to hold it together, but the bitterness crept in as more tears fell. “Don't make it seem like you're getting the raw end of the deal when you're not the one ending up alone.”

Bucky flinched and you savored that he showed some sort of emotion. “I owe it to her to try.”

“Oh, you owe her that? What about the future you promised me? A home? Marriage? A family? Was it all bullshit?!” You snapped, shoving his chest with both hands. You were pushing him more than physically, but you were past the point of caring. “Why are you giving up on us? Why aren't you trying?!”

“Because there's no point! This was never going to work!” He shouted, raising his voice for the first time and making you jump back. He never yelled at you. You never expected him to break your heart either. “You don't belong in my world. You never did and you never will.”

The room spun as you tried to take a breath. It wasn't like you were floating anymore. You were crashing down, the shards of his words piercing you so deep you weren't sure you'd ever get them out.

I was a phase. A bed warmer. I'm not worth fighting for. I never was.

Whatever wounded sound you made had Bucky stepping toward you. “Fuck, I'm sorry.”

“Get out,” you ordered, not recognizing the sound of your own voice as you moved out of his reach. “You said we're done, so we're done.”

His eyes flickered with sadness when he invaded your space. Why did he suddenly want to be close to you? “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that.”

“Yes, you did. And I don't want your bullshit apologies. I want you gone,” you hissed, pushing him again. He didn't budge. “Get out. Get out! Get…” you steadied yourself, using every ounce of power you could manage to push him out of your home and life. “OUT!”

He didn't say a word or put up a fight when the shoves turned to smacks against his chest. Maybe he felt like he deserved your wrath. That broke you a little more. You weren't sure how long it took to shove him toward the door, but it exhausted you by the end of it. You wanted to curl into yourself and cry until there were no tears left.

“I love you, Bucky. I hope you have a nice life.”

His mouth fell open as you shut the door in his face.

As you sank to the floor, you realized he hadn't said he loved you once during the time he was there.

Love is sealed by a kiss, but he broke it with his words.

Maybe he never loved you at all.

“I think we can all agree that Barnes can be an idiot,” Natasha said, moving out of your way as you walked toward the bathroom.

“Is an idiot,” Yelena corrected.

“But whatever he said to hurt you, it was to push you away.”

“Mission accomplished,” you mumbled.

Bucky knew how to hurt people. He also knew you better than anyone, which meant he knew exactly where to put the knife in and twist it. You never expected him to inflict any sort of pain on you though because he swore he wouldn't.

Why do people make promises only to break them? Promises made in love should not be broken.

“Look, he hasn't been the easiest person to be around since he stopped seeing you. Everyone has noticed, even his father. He needs to see you, okay?” Natasha explained, gently nudging you through the door before you could reply. “Quick shower and we'll help you get ready.”

“You don't have to dress me. I'm not a child,” you snapped, slamming the door so you were left alone.

Guilt swirled in your gut as you stripped and went to the shower. You hadn't meant to snap when she was only trying to help. Or was she trying to help James? You didn't know anymore.

The cascading water did little to soothe you as you tried to push your despair aside. You hadn't allowed yourself to properly grieve from your broken heart. Why couldn't you just get over the man who abandoned you? Why did you have to keep loving him?

“Don't fall asleep in there!” Yelena shouted, almost making you slip on the tile as you shut the water off. “And no window escape.”

You thought about it more as you dried off. If Bucky went through with the wedding, it would be the end of the line. And maybe this would be the closure you needed to move on.

Though the love you have for him will never fade.

“Okay,” you said as you walked out of the bathroom in your room. “If you two are really going to make me go, I want to look perfect. Make him see what he's missing.”

“Don't worry. We'll make him look,” Yelena promised, nodding to your bed where the dress was waiting for you.

It wasn't exactly a wedding dress, but it was beautiful. It looked like the dress you wore on your first date with Bucky, only fancier. You didn't want to know where they got it or how they decided to pick that.

In the back of your mind though, you wondered if it was from Bucky.

“Thank you,” Natasha whispered.

“Don't thank me yet,” you said as you sat down at your vanity.

If you squinted, you could pretend they were getting you ready for your wedding day.

Maybe in another life, we could have had our happy ending, Bucky.

Natasha and Yelena should have become personal stylists or makeup artists. You almost suggested they should do it as a side hustle. They managed to transform you while still making you look like you.

Maybe you were a phoenix, burnt only to rise from the ashes anew.

“He'll look,” Yelena promised again as she slipped a ruby necklace around your neck. “Finishing touch.”

You brushed a finger along one of the gems, trying to shake the memory of when you received it. Bucky had given you the necklace at his private birthday dinner. When you reminded him that he was supposed to receive gifts on his birthday and not give them, he said he had the best gift of all with you. He said it again after he made love to you.

The only thing you wore was the necklace.

“I know heaven's a thing. I go there when you touch me, honey.“

“Isn't this a bit much?” You asked.

Natasha met your gaze in the mirror. “We should go,” she said, ignoring your question.

The girls effectively boxed you in as they led you to the limo, a subtle reminder not to run. Even in heels, they'd catch you. They were that good.

Clint wordlessly opened the car door, but gave you a sympathetic nod as he helped you in. Observant and sometimes sarcastic, you almost wish he would've said something. Maybe it was better that he kept quiet.

What comfort would he be able to provide you with?

Once again, Natasha and Yelena were on each side of you as you sat in the middle seat.

“Do you plan on sitting beside me at the wedding, too?” You asked, staring straight ahead once Clint got in and took off.

“Yelena will sit with you. I'm standing,” Natasha answered.

You weren't sure what to make of that. Maybe Sophia decided to have her in the wedding party in some capacity. Or maybe she'd keep watch to make sure there was no trouble on Bucky's special day.

“Guess I'm not allowed to speak when asked if anyone has any objections?”

“You can if you want to cause a scene,” Yelena said, shrugging a bit. You were considering it. “Again. Could be fun.”

“Stop being a bad influence,” Natasha warned when you snorted. “We'll have the car ready for you to go once you're allowed to leave.”

“Allowed? I need permission to leave?” You asked. “And where am I going?”

“Wherever you want,” she replied.

You would likely go home for the time being. Instead of sulking, maybe you could take steps toward leaving the city for good. A new job, a new apartment.

It was up to you to create your own happy ending.

One that you deserved.

“We'll see if I actually make it through the ceremony first,” you said.

Silence stretched on in the vehicle after that. You'd take the quiet over useless small talk, but you found it more difficult to breathe as you got closer to the venue. It was like a vice closed around your throat. Natasha reached over and gave your hand a squeeze when you sniffled. Yelena did the same with your other hand. It was comforting, even if they were the ones forcing you to endure this day.

“Do any of you plan to stop the wedding?” You asked, your curiosity getting the better of you. Was that why they were so adamant that you had to attend? The glimmer of hope within you wanted that to be the case.

You made eye contact with Clint in the rearview mirror before he focused on the road ahead. You didn’t dare glance at the girls, but you felt the weight of the answer before Natasha said, “No.”

As quickly as your hope grew, it disintegrated. It fell into the soil within your soul, ready to grow again when you were naive enough to believe. It was silly to ask in the first place.

“What’s the point of dolling me up then if nothing is going to change?”

“To make him look,” Yelena reminded you. “And maybe you’ll see your future husband today.”

Silence resumed again after that, but it wasn’t long before the car approached a private entrance. You half expected that the wedding would be at a church when you received the invitation, but it was an address you didn’t recognize. Maybe it would be their new home.

You felt slightly ill once the car came to a stop, Yelena helping you out before Clint had a chance to come around and open the door. You saw a massive and beautiful estate in front of you surrounded by a rich landscape. Gazing at the front door where two guards stood, you didn't have to step inside to know that the place was elegant with meticulous attention to detail.

Somewhere you didn't belong.

Forcing a smile on your face as Natasha urged you to move forward, she said something you couldn't make out to the larger of the two guards. His eyes settled on you only for a moment before he let you through and didn't bother to look in your clutch to see if you had a weapon. Like you would use one anyway, but you thought they'd be more careful.

I'm clearly not a threat.

It was quieter than you expected as you stood in the entrance way, a couple of women bustling by with flowers. No way Bucky chose those himself. They were far from his favorite.

“The ceremony is going to take place in the back garden,” Natasha explained. “The fence will have guards in case anyone tries to get in.”

“Or get out,” Yelena added.

“I need to have a quick chat with Steve,” Natasha said. Steve Rogers, Bucky's best friend and heir to the Rogers empire, was every bit as handsome and ruthless as his best friend. “Yelena will take you to your seat shortly. Try not to wander off.”

You scoffed as you gestured in front of you. “Considering I have no clue where I'm going, I'll stay here.”

Natasha smirked before she left, the echo of her heels eventually fading once she was out of sight.

“Stand up straight,” Yelena ordered, pressing against your back. “Show no fear.”

“Why?” You asked before you spotted a large man walk toward you, two men hot on his heels.

George Barnes.

“Well, well. You made it. I wish I could say it was nice to see you,” he said, his gaze lingering on your necklace as you bristled. You covered the jewelry with your hand, worried he might rip it off. You wouldn't allow him to take that away. “At least you had the decency to not wear white. Would've been extremely tacky and useless to try and upstage Sophia.”

You knew he was trying to get under your skin at the mention of his soon-to-be daughter-in-law. “Believe me, Mr. Barnes, the feeling is mutual. Honestly, I’d be happy to live out the rest of my life without us having to cross paths,” you said, giving him a sweet smile when his eye twitched. He likely wasn't used to women insulting him. “But if you want me to leave-”

“Nonsense. I want you to witness a union of power. Something you’ll never have,” he boasted, making a show of smoothing out his expensive jacket. “I also hope you're on some form of birth control since James plans to take you as a mistress. He doesn't need any bastards running around now, does he?”

You gaped at him, trying to figure out if he was kidding. “Just so we're clear, I'm good enough for your son to fuck, but not marry or have his kids?”

“I'm glad we understand each other.”

“I don't understand,” you said, your voice cracking as Yelena took a step closer to your side. “Your son loved me.”

Maybe part of him still does.

“It isn't for you to understand why I do what I do. What you need to understand is your place,” he snarled in a low voice as he crowded your space. You almost stepped back, but he probably wanted you to be afraid and you weren't about to let that show. “All that work I put into my son and you almost unraveled it. Even after leaving you, he's been difficult. Sullen.”

“I'm so sorry to hear that,” you said, elated that he pretty much confirmed that Bucky missed you.

“I'm sure you are. But that'll change. He's going to marry Sophia and make my empire even stronger than before. And I hope you cry yourself to sleep knowing he didn't choose you in the end.”

Rage pulsed through your veins at the audacity of the grinning man in front of you. “Are you done talking? As much as I'm sure you love the sound of your own voice, I'm tired of hearing it,” you said, his smile slowly fading from his face when you didn't break down. “And when you go to Hell, I hope you aren't burned by the flames. I hope you drown in the tears of everyone you ever wronged. And when you ask for their help to save you, they'll watch you sink to the bottom. Your son included.”

Under different circumstances, the shade of red Mr. Barnes turned would’ve been comical. A man who liked to dish it out, but was unable to take someone throwing it back at him. Maybe he had power in name, but he was weak in heart. “You little bitch,” he snarled, raising his hand.

You didn't flinch or look away from his rage-filled eyes as you braced yourself from the impact. Maybe you shouldn't have run your mouth, but you didn't care. Let him hit you. Let him prove himself to be the monster you believed him to be, especially after he insulted you first.

But the blow didn't land. Yelena caught his arm before it could. Neither of the men behind him reached for a weapon nor did they make a move to throw you out. Were they waiting for a signal from their boss?

“No fighting,” she calmly spoke, using her other arm to help you back away. “Your rule today, right, Mr. Barnes?”

“Belova,” he said through his teeth, yanking his arm back. You wondered what kind of trouble she'd get in for helping you. She didn't deserve it. “That rule is-”

“No fighting,” she said again, nodding to you. “I made her look pretty. No messing up her makeup.”

“She looks like a whore,” he said.

“I think she looks pretty,” Yelena said with a shrug before she turned her attention back to you. “Down the left hall. Second to last door on the right. Wait there for me.”

“Thank you, Yelena,” you whispered.

Mr. Barnes grabbed your arm as you tried to walk by. “When my son seeks you out to take you as a mistress, you will say yes. Be that as long as he does what needs to be done. Keep his bed warm and his dick wet, but don't think for a second that you'll be anything more than a whore.”

You calmly shook him off, even as your stomach turned. To speak so callously of you, of Bucky, of what you meant to each other. To suggest that you would be a kept woman. How did a man like Bucky spawn from someone as disgusting as him?

“Mr. Barnes, you may have power and you may think you have control over your son, but you're nothing more than a pathetic excuse of a man who gets off on bullying people you deem beneath you. I hope your neck breaks from looking down on me.”

A shaky breath left your lungs as you quickly walked past the men and went down the left hall as instructed, not looking back to see if anyone went after you. It was careless to run your mouth again, but you just had to get the last word in. What the hell was that man going to do to you once the wedding was over? Maybe he wouldn't do anything at all. Surely he had bigger fish to fry.

The hall seemed to stretch on and you wondered why Yelena sent you down here. Was it a restroom? She obviously knew the estate well enough if she-

Your breath stopped as Bucky walked out of the last room on the left, his gaze landing on you as you froze. It was cliche that your heart skipped a beat, but how could it not? This was the first time you had seen him in person since that fateful day and he looked every bit as handsome as before. Between the black tuxedo tailored to perfection, trimmed beard, and not a single hair out of place, he played the part of the son who would one day rule the city. Except for his cerulean eyes.

They were lined in pain.

“You're here,” he breathed, like he couldn't believe you were in front of him.

You wished you felt numb as you looked at him. This was the man who once told you he'd burn the world if anything ever happened to you. The fire within him was long snuffed out and he took the warmth with him. You were tired of feeling cold.

And you were so tired.

“Not by choice,” you said, proud that your voice stayed steady as he moved toward you.

“You look so breathtaking,” he said, like he was seeing you for the first time. As much as you liked his gaze sweeping over you, it hurt. “You're wearing my necklace.”

“Natasha and Yelena's idea,” you told him, not returning the compliment by telling him how handsome he looked. “Apparently you needed me today, so here I am.”

He lifted his hand as if to touch you before he lowered it. “I do need you.”

Your gut wrenched, your heart and mind raging over whether or not to believe him. “I'm sorry, but I don't exactly see how that's possible. You dumped me. You're getting married. Chapter closed. Move out of my way, James. Please.”

He flinched at the use of his first name, but recovered quickly as he stopped you from moving around him. Your shoulders tensed when he touched your arm, the familiar jolt of electricity running through your veins at the contact. You wanted to resent him for still making you feel something, but how could you when he made you feel alive? Even the crushing weight of the emotions was a reminder that you didn't break.

In many ways, he helped you become stronger.

“You're going to try and sneak out,” he guessed. You didn't disagree. “Don't. You can't leave yet.”

“Yes, I can. I'm not one of your subordinates or soldiers or whatever the hell you call them. And if you won't get out of my way, I'll just go back the way I came. Yelena will find me.”

Before you could protest, he gripped your arm a bit tighter and dragged you into the very room Yelena sent you to. It appeared to be a study, which you wish you could've taken the time to appreciate. You almost screamed for help, but who the hell would come to your rescue?

This was Bucky's world and you were just a pawn in it.

“Let go of me!” You demanded as your clutch fell to the ground, smacking his hand hard enough for him to loosen his hold. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I'm sorry,” he said.

“Sorry for what exactly? Making me come here today or breaking my heart? Or maybe you're apologizing for your dad and his clear disdain for me? It doesn't matter because I don't care.”

“I care. You don't understand,” he said, effectively blocking the door when you tried to get past him. His eyes flashed with a dangerous glint, making you take a step back. “Wait. You saw my dad? What the fuck did he say to you?”

He looks like he's about to commit a murder.

“No, I don't understand. Not your father or this situation. I likely never will,” you said, clenching and unclenching your fists. Nothing could ground you. “He said you planned to take me as a mistress.”

Bucky's jaw clenched. “That's what he told you?”

“Yes, among other things. Is that why you wanted me here today? To make that offer?” You answered, your palm itching. Was that why Natasha and Yelena really forced you to come to this? “You know what? Don't answer that. I'd be too tempted to smack you.”

“I've already beat myself up for the both of us,” he muttered.

“I'll save you the trouble of asking: No, I won't be your mistress. I won't stay here and be your whore. I'm sorry,” you said.

Whether or not he'd grow to care for Sophia or if he was doing this strictly out of orders from George, he would be a married man at the end of the day. Even if there was a chance down the road that he would divorce Sophia, could you condone carrying on an affair with him? Could you contribute to him breaking his vows? Both of you deserved better than that.

He ran a hand through his hair and messed up the style. “I'm asking you to forgive me at your own pace and stay,” he said.

He sounded sincere and on the edge of breaking. You were there with him. “I can forgive you, but you're still marrying someone else, Bucky. And what would we be if I stayed? Friends? We can't be friends.”

He grabbed you by the shoulders when you attempted to step around him again, a wild look in his eyes. You couldn't recall ever seeing him so untamed. “You really think I want this? That I would want anyone besides you?”

Tears filled your eyes by that point, wishing that were true. “Yes! You broke my heart, remember? You said I didn't belong in your world and that you owed it to Sophia to try. Those were your words. So, no, I don't think you want me. At least not all of me.”

“I broke up with you because I had to. I know I was hurtful, but I had to keep you from going after me,” he said, your chest tightening when he pulled you closer. “If you leave now, I know you'll run.”

Would you chase me if I tried to run?

“So what if I do? I'm not yours anymore.”

“You'll always be mine,” he spoke with such reverence that your lower lip quivered. “Just like I'm still yours.”

“Fuck you, James,” you seethed, struggling in his grasp as a tear slid down your cheek. You cried so many tears because of him and you were ready to be finished. “This is cruel and you know it.”

“I know you hate me-”

“That's just it. I don't hate you. I don't think I ever could,” you said, your chest heaving as you tried not to choke on a sob. “But you know what I want? My heart. You took it from me and I want it back, along with my love for you. Every smile, every laugh, every kiss. Give it all back and let me go.”

“I won't do that,” he whispered after a beat. “I love you too much.”

Bucky reached up to cup your cheek and draw you closer, his breath fanning over your lips as you trembled. You wanted so desperately to meet him halfway, but how could you cross that line after vehemently denying that possibility? Would it shatter your heart all over again if you did?

“We can't,” you whispered when his mouth brushed against yours, a small taste of the now forbidden spreading through you like a wildfire. But your mind urged you to lean back even as your heart screamed for you to give in. “Bucky, we can't.”

“Yes, we can. Please,” he gently argued, your heart pounding over the voice in your head as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your head spun when you inhaled, his cologne adding to the dizzying feeling as he moved his mouth to the other side. “We love each other.”

You hesitated once more before you sighed in resignation. You did love Bucky. It may have been wrong at the moment, but he had the key to your heart. And you would allow him to unlock it one last time.

You weren't sure who leaned in first this time, but your mouths met in a familiar dance. He led as he parted your lips with his tongue and you followed with a moan. Eagerly gripping his hair, uncaring that he'd have to fix it later, you melted into him and prayed he'd catch you if you fell.

“Please, Bucky,” you whispered as his mouth left a warm trail of open mouthed kisses along your neck.

You didn't know what you were pleading for as he backed you against a wall. Was it for him to let you go? To fight for you? Or to take you to paradise one last time?

Love me like you're going to lose me.

“I love you so fucking much,” he murmured, your heart pounding as he moved his hand along your chest. His fingertips dragged along the necklace, a shackle of the ownership he had over you. One you'd wear forever if he only asked. “Killed me to be apart from you, doll. Hated every second of it.”

Guilt began to sink in. You just told him you wouldn't be a kept woman, but you allowed him to kiss you. Touch you. Was it because he hadn't gone through with the wedding yet? Was there a chance he'd back out of it?

“You hurt me,” you reminded him, but didn't stop him from gliding his hand down your torso. “You broke my heart.”

“I had to,” he said again. You expected him to say more, but he only hiked your dress up and dragged your underwear down far enough that you could spread your legs. And you didn't need to pour more salt in the open wound by saying again that he hurt you. He knew. “I'm sorry.”

“Then show me how sorry you are,” you demanded, your hands shaky as they reached for his belt. You didn't have much time. “Even if someone walks in-”

“I'm not stopping,” he said, helping you with his pants. You wrapped a hand around his cock the second it sprang free, the familiar hardness only making the ache inside you grow. You needed to feel him. “I don't care if the world's on fire. Won't stop me from being inside you.”

“Just shut up and fuck me.”

He chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours, warmth blooming from your core when his fingers teased your folds. One touch and you melted, your pussy wet and ready for him to make himself at home again. He swallowed down your moan as he explored, like he was memorizing you all over again.

“Bucky,” you whined as he pulled his fingers away.

“I've got you.”

Your hands flew to his shoulders as he wrapped one of your legs around him. You dug your fingers in almost hard enough to bruise him as he lined himself up. Part of you wished you could leave your mark on him. Perhaps you had in his heart, a claim that no one else could see but one you both felt.

Heart and soul.

Your heart pounded as he slowly buried himself deep, relishing in the burn from the stretch. The breath punched out of your lungs as you surrounded him, his cock filling you to your limit. It was far from the first time he had you, but it felt even better than before. More raw, passionate. You wanted him to stay inside you and never leave.

Clenching around him was the wordless order for him to move, almost afraid to open your mouth and speak. You were afraid if you did that he'd slip through your fingers. That this would be just a dream and you'd wake up alone again.

“Fuck, I love you. Wanna make you feel good,” he moaned, his eyes hazy with pleasure and face a mask of euphoria at his movements. It was a beautiful sight. One you wanted to remember for the rest of your life. “Wish I could tear your dress open and get my hands on your gorgeous tits.”

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, pushing your chest forward and wishing for the same. You wanted him to pinch your nipples and soothe the sting with his tongue.

“Always so pretty when you play with them, especially when I fuck you with my tongue,” he went on, canting his hips to thrust deeper. He always made you feel beautiful no matter how he had you. “Tell me you love me.”

You bit your lip, realizing that he begged to hear it. A man as strong as him pleading for your love nearly tore you apart. “I love you, Bucky,” you panted, your chest rising faster as you moved your hips down.

His eyes devoured you, devotion and adoration in his gaze before he brushed his nose against yours. You shared one breath as you moved together, the slow and firm motions making you leak around him. His hand came to the side of your face, tilting your head to kiss you. It made your heart flutter wildly, the slide of his lips and tongue sending shivers down your spine.

It left you dizzy, like you were unable to breathe.

“Missed this sweet cunt,” he grunted, reaching under your dress as he picked up the pace. You didn't have to beg for him to touch you since his thumb found and teased your clit. “Missed how tight you got around me right before I came inside you.”

“Come in me,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I need it.”

“I don't wanna stop,” he groaned as you trembled, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars. He was taking you to heaven. “I can't. We can't be done.”

You shut your eyes as you rested your head against his, quiet whines falling from your lips as he kept rubbing your bundle of nerves. You wanted to whisper that it wasn't the end. That was the beginning of a new path after being apart. But that wasn't your destiny. He was meant to rule with another queen.

“Please, Bucky. I'm close,” you said, opening your eyes as heat coiled in your gut. “Come with me. Show me you love me.”

One last time.

Placing a hand on his chest to feel the beat of his heart, you let yourself fall over the precipice. Your blood turned to lava in your veins as you breathed his name like a prayer. He recited a litany of praise in return as you clamped around him, doing your best to soak up every word as your spirit threatened to float away. Twisting your fingers in his hair, you didn't want it to end either.

“Fuck. I love you,” he groaned as he emptied himself inside you, his lips moving along your chin, lips, cheeks, anywhere he could reach.

You clung to him as he pulled out of you, some of his release sliding out with yours as he caught his breath. You couldn't do more than make a small noise as he lowered your leg and bent down to pull your underwear back up. They were ruined now. You were ruined.

“You really are so fucking beautiful,” he said, tucking himself back into his pants as you braced yourself against the wall.

“And you are so fucking-”

“James?” An unfamiliar voice spoke, nearly making you collapse.

Oh, shit.

“Fuck,” he huffed, both of you turning your heads toward the open door.

The post-sex afterglow disappeared as a woman in an elegant bridal gown stepped inside and closed the door, her beautiful face twisted in disgust as she stared at Bucky. Even in anger, Sophia Genovese was a vision. You put a hand to your stomach, willing yourself not to get sick as she turned her gaze toward you, the anger visibly lessening. Choice or not, this was Bucky's fiancé. You were the other woman. Did it matter to her that you loved him? Did she care for him? Maybe George was right about you after all.

You were a whore.

“You really couldn't keep it in your pants until after the ceremony?_ She asked, turning an unimpressed stare back on Bucky. “Honestly, James. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Bucky asked, helping you fix your dress with gentle hands and a soft kiss to your forehead. “You're supposed to be in the east wing.”

“And you're supposed to be ready for the ceremony and not sticking your dick in her,” she said harshly enough to make you wince. “Simple instructions that you should’ve been able to follow. Or can you not comprehend basic orders?”

“Shut up, Sophia,” he snapped, zipping up his pants as she rolled her eyes.

There was no lost love between them, but you still felt terrible as you looked at the woman. “I'm sorry,” you said softly. “I love him, but that’s no excuse.”

“You’re sorry for what? For fucking a man you love? Though I don't know why you love him. He's an idiot,” she scoffed, shooing Bucky out of her way. You stood your ground as she walked close, but she didn't slap you as you expected. She turned her back to you. “Lace up my dress so my tits don’t fall out of this.”

What?

It took a second for you to move, but you carefully laced her bodice. A beautiful gown fit for a queen. “I really am-”

“Save it. I don't want or need your apologies,” she cut you off before she pointed at Bucky. “But you will get your ass to that altar. I don’t care what it takes. Don't you dare ruin this for me, James, or I'll make your life a living hell.”

Bucky opened his mouth as the door opened again to reveal Yelena. She surveyed the scene before she went over and grabbed your arm. “You stink like sex,” she commented. “We must go.”

With misty eyes, you looked at Bucky. “I know nothing I say will stop you from getting married, but is this really it for us? I become your mistress or nothing at all?”

Is this the end?

Sophia shook her head when he didn't answer you. Yelena didn't speak either. “Mistress? You fucking-”

“Don't say another word,” Bucky ordered her.

“We must go. It's almost time,” Yelena said.

Bucky snuck in one last kiss as a tear slid from your eye, the feel of his lips lingering on yours. “I love you. I’ll never stop.”

That wasn't an answer to your question, but you weren't going to get one, were you? “I love you, too,” you said before Yelena dragged you away, needing him to hear that as your heart began to break again.

“I can’t believe you,” Sophia said before the door slammed shut and blocked out the voices.

Is Sophia going to rip him a new one?

You hastily wiped your cheek and had a hard time keeping up with Yelena as she dragged you down the hall. “I didn’t expect to bump into him,” you told her, like it would excuse your actions.

“You’re lucky no one else saw,” she said as Natasha came into sight near a pair of glass doors. The redhead didn't look pleased. “She slept with him.”

“Yelena,” you hissed, though you were sure the redhead already knew by your guilty expression.

“Of course, you did,” Natasha said under her breath. “Get to your seats.”

“Wait! I really don't know if I can do this,” you told them. Not when you could still feel the sweet burn of Bucky inside you. Not when your heart told you he didn't stop loving you. “How can I watch him marry her?”

Natasha exchanged an unreadable look with her sister. “Because when this is all over, he’s going to need you by his side more than ever.”

Why is everyone being so cryptic and not saying what they need to?

“By his side as his whore you mean,” you said. “Isn't that it?”

Is that really my future?

“As the woman who has his heart,” Yelena said, surprising all three of you. “Come. We must sit.”

Yelena led you outside to the gardens where most of the guests were already settled. It was a smaller amount than you expected, the flowers lining the chairs just as bright as the aisle runner. She practically shoved you into your chair on the groom’s side before she took a seat. The low buzz of excitement around you would’ve been contagious had this been any other wedding.

“I can really leave when this is over, right?” You asked. You weren’t sure you could handle a reception, even if Bucky wanted to see you. Maybe you’d see if Monica, Helen, and Brunhilde could meet up after all. “You won't stop me?”

Yelena gave you a curt nod. “If you really wish. Just know he'll find you,” she said, pouting a bit as she stole a glance at you. “Please, don’t hate us.”

“I could never,” you assured her as she nodded again. No matter what happened after this and even though you despised the situation, you could never hate Natasha or Yelena. They didn’t let too many people close and it was a privilege that you were part of that small circle.

It was like you were in a daze when the ceremony began. You blinked tears away as Bucky entered the garden and stood tall at the altar, looking pristine and powerful once again. He spotted you easily as the music began, ignoring Steve as he walked down the aisle with the maid of honor. You didn’t take your eyes away either.

It was as if you were the only two who existed.

Even as Sophia began to walk down the aisle with her father, he didn’t take his eyes off you. Tears surfaced again when you realized he didn’t actually look happy or proud. Not at all.

He looked trapped.

Bucky was a prisoner in his own life.

Your heartbreak forgotten, you were beginning to understand why Natasha and Yelena said he needed you. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t in control of his life. While your parents gave you freedom, his dad shackled him. And you knew you could never walk away from him. Not when he needed someone in his corner.

Someone who loved him unconditionally.

“It’s okay,” you mouthed to him, smiling through your tears. “I love you.”

A sad smile touched Bucky’s lips before Sophia reached the end of the aisle. His attention was now on his bride-to-be. You could only sit and watch as the man you loved began a new path.

Yelena silently handed you a handkerchief as the officiant began. “Dearly beloved…”

Blocking the words out as Bucky and Sophia faced each other, you looked around at everyone else. Steve appeared a bit stiff, like he was anticipating something going wrong. Natasha and Clint weren’t smiling either. They were observing.

“If there is anyone who feels these two should not be wed, please speak now or forever hold your peace.”

This is it.

“I object,” Bucky spoke.

A small smile appeared on Sophia's face as people around you gasped. “As do I,” she said, handing her bouquet to her maid of honor.

You held your breath when George stood up. “What the hell do you think you're doing?!”

Bucky ignored him as he faced everyone. “I'm in love with someone else,” he announced as you held your breath, holding out his hand and beckoning for you to join him. “She's the one I want to spend my life with and beyond.”

“You unworthy-”

Yelena stood up faster than you could blink, pistol in hand. Where did she pull that out from? “You sit and listen,” she ordered, giving you a rare smile. “You go to him.”

Steve, Natasha, and Clint all had guns aimed at Bucky's father as your mind screamed at you to move. Your legs nearly gave out as you ignored the stares and walked down the aisle, but you made it to Bucky and took his hand. Why weren't any of the other men stepping in to stop you? What the hell was happening?

“This is the only person I want to be with. You will know her name and you will respect her,” Bucky announced, your name falling from his lips a heartbeat later.

It sounded so beautiful.

“Little fucking whore-” George began before Steve moved forward and smacked him in the face with his gun.

Hard.

“Don't use that kind of language when you talk about my best friend's girl,” Steve said, backing away slowly as George spit blood in the grass. “Go ahead, Buck.”

“When my dad ordered me to marry Sophia, I objected because I already found the love of my life. He said if I didn't go through with the ceremony, he would have my girl killed in the most dishonorable way. He threatened the same thing if I tried to leave the city with her or if she tried to interfere in the wedding plans. He even threatened to kill her closest friends,” Bucky said, gripping your hand a little tighter. “So I had to break her heart to protect her.”

You exhaled slowly, almost collapsing. Bucky told you he had to hurt you, but you didn't know your life was at stake. Or the lives of your girlfriends. That was why he looked so frightened that day when you suggested talking to his dad. He would've had all of you killed. The only reason he didn't hurt you today was because Yelena stepped in to defend you.

And deep down he likely thought he already won because today was the wedding day.

“I don't think I ever loved you, but I never hated you more,” Bucky spoke, his eyes narrowed in hate as he finally acknowledged his dad. “I almost killed you then and there, but you had your men watching her, and I had to wait until I swayed them to my side.”

“They're my men,” George snapped, snatching a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his mouth.

Bucky smirked when the guards took their guns out and trained them on his father. “Not anymore.”

That was why no one was jumping in to defend George. They worked for Bucky now. They had a new leader. A better one.

“I didn't want to marry James either. I don't care for him. In fact, I can't stand the sight of him. I have someone I love waiting for me,” Sophia added unapologetically as Natasha pointed her gun at her fuming father. The only reason he wasn't rushing toward the altar was because someone else had a gun against the back of his head. “You'd think after the first engagement fell through that you would've learned your lesson, but it doesn't matter now. James and I both had something to gain from each other. So while you thought we were planning our wedding day, we came to an agreement and made our own plans.”

“We share the power of the city without marriage,” Bucky said, nodding to the surrounding men and women. “We stay in our territories, continue our work, and help each other when necessary.”

“Most importantly, we're free to be with a partner of our choosing with no interference,” Sophia said.

Bucky cocked his head at his dad. “Did you really think me keeping my girl as a mistress would satisfy me? Mom probably rolled over in her grave and I should've cut out your tongue for suggesting it.”

It was like another blow to your chest. You assumed Bucky wanted you as a side piece when he didn't say otherwise. He had to keep up the facade. You should've known better.

Heartbreak made you blind.

“So, I'm afraid none of you are here today to witness a marriage between the Barnes and Genovese families,” Sophia shrugged.

“You're here to witness an execution,” Bucky said, giving his dad a bittersweet smile. “Enjoy rotting in Hell while I'm in heaven on earth with my girl.”

It all happened so fast, but it felt like you witnessed it in slow motion as Bucky shielded you with his left arm. Sophia with a gun in her hand fired a bullet between George's eyes. Bucky shot Sophia's dad in the head as well. In the blink of an eye, the leaders of the Barnes and Genovese families failed to take another breath, their blood spraying on nearby patrons. Taken out by the very children they tried to force a marriage on.

Their own flesh and blood.

But blood isn't always thicker than water.

You felt like you were floating underwater when the guards ordered the bloodied guests to get to their feet. This was the world you knew Bucky lived in, but you hadn’t witnessed him kill anyone until now. In a strange way, you felt closer to him because you saw this. You knew exactly what he was capable of.

And just how far he’d go to keep you by his side.

“Let that be a lesson for anyone who tries to hurt the ones we love,” Sophia said, sweeping over the small crowd with a cool gaze. “Get them inside to clean up,” she ordered the guards, who quickly ushered them away.

I might pass out.

“Take it easy,” Natasha said as Clint brought a chair for you to sit on. “I know this is probably a bit of a shock.”

“You think?” Yelena asked as she put her gun away. “Get her a water. Or vodka.”

“We’ll get this cleaned up. Clint’s getting the car,” Steve assured Bucky, nodding over to you. “Go tend to your girl.”

His girl.

Bucky holstered his gun under his jacket and crouched down, cupping your face with a tender touch. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to leave you in the dark, but I had to. I couldn't risk your safety.”

Sophia hit his shoulder. “You could've told her something! 'I broke her heart to protect her' bullshit,” she said, making your eyebrows shoot up. “I knew you were a bit in the dark, but I didn't realize he didn't clue you in at all.”

That must've been why she was surprised that I questioned being a mistress. She knew it would never get that far, but I didn't.

“I couldn’t warn her with the men watching her. They would’ve known and I had to make it convincing,” he said through his teeth.

“Even after they were on our side? You couldn't have given her a clue?” Sophia pressed.

“Her place was bugged,” Natasha said, causing a wave of nausea to hit you. His dad had your home monitored, too? “George would've known the moment Bucky tipped her off. Today was the first day he stopped having anyone listen in and Yelena and I got rid of the bugs while she showered.”

Oh, my God.

“Everyone had to play along, no matter how much it hurt us to do so,” Bucky said before concern filled his eyes. “Doll?”

You threw your arms around him, feeling a bit dramatic when you dissolved into tears. It was so much to take in, but relief flowed through you as he held you. He didn't go through with the ceremony.

He loved you.

Bucky never stopped loving you.

“I've got you,” he whispered, leaning back to search your face.

“I’m fine. Really,” you said after a second, allowing him to wipe your tears away. Everything made sense now, like why the girls were so eager for you to be here today. “But you really couldn’t have slipped a note to Natasha or Yelena to warn me? Even a, 'Hey, doll. Your place is bugged!' sort of thing?” You added, just to make a little light of the tense situation.

Sophia snorted when Bucky's face fell, like that idea hadn’t dawned on him. “Told you that you’re a fucking idiot,” she said, her eyes more sympathetic as she looked at you. “But I get his apprehension. My father had measurements set in place for me as well to go through with today, including trying to incapacitate the man I want to be with.”

“I'm sorry,” you said. Bucky and Sophia had to endure a lot of pain thanks to the men who should've respected their wishes.

“None of this is your fault. And I got a call before I found you two and he's okay. My men are bringing him to me now that it's safe to do so,” she said, smiling to herself. “The ceremony was the only way to take our fathers out. And I won't shed a tear for that sperm donor now that he's gone.”

“Neither will I,” Bucky said, glaring at his dad’s dead body. “And I’ll spend every day making it up to you, doll. If I could've made him suffer more, I would've. A cut for every tear I made you shed.”

“That's a lot of tears. He would've bled out.”

“It's the least he deserved.”

“I need to get out of this gown,” Sophia said, dismissing one of the men who went to check on her. She slipped the engagement ring off her finger and handed it to Bucky. “Until next time, James. And you? I hope we can become friends, if only to piss him off.”

You laughed a little at the absurdity. She just murdered Bucky’s father and watched as he executed her own dad. And she extended a hand to you in friendship. You had to both admire and fear her. Brunhilde would love her. “I’d like that.”

“Take care of her or I’ll hear about it and I’ll make you sorry,” she warned Bucky before she walked away.

‘I told you that you'd see your future husband here,” Yelena said before Natasha nodded to the bodies. “What? They're not going anywhere.”

“Let's let the lovebirds be,” she said, slipping into the big sister role.

“Thank you for dragging me here. And for everything,” you told them before they let you be. You wished they would've told you, but understood why they couldn't. You wouldn't hold that against them. “Are you okay?” You asked Bucky. Whether or not he hated George, that was his father. Between that, lying to protect you and everything else, it was a lot on his shoulders.

“Do I have you?” He replied, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“You have me,” you said without hesitation.

“Do you love me?”

“Yes, I do,” you smiled. “With all my heart and more.”

“Then I’m okay,” he smiled back.

“I'm sorry for how I acted. I’m so sorry,” you said. It was selfish in so many ways to focus on your own pain. “I should've known-”

“No, don't apologize. You had every right to be upset and couldn't have known that everything was a charade. I'm just thankful you're safe,” he said, taking your left hand and slipping the ring onto your finger. “And I know this isn't romantic at all and you deserve a better proposal, but this ring belonged to my mother. Now it belongs on your finger and you belong at my side. I know the world I'm a part of is dangerous, but I will love, cherish, and protect you above all else.”

You softly laughed. There was nothing conventional about the impromptu proposal, but there was love behind it. Wasn't that all that mattered? “You may need to convince me to say 'yes',” you teased, gazing at your finger.

“You're the main reason I had my dad killed. Is that a good enough reason?” He smiled, his eyes a bright shade of blue when you smiled in return.

“That's true,” you nodded. He committed murder so you could be together. That was love. “And I know this world is a dangerous place, but there's no one else I'd rather be with because I love you, too.”

Bucky didn't hold back as he thoroughly kissed you, leaving your head spinning by the time he stopped. “I'm never letting you go.”

“You better not. And lucky for both of us, you don't have to get rid of any new boyfriends of mine. Though you may need to apologize to my girlfriends, too.”

“Good because I know you thought you were single, but I may have had to kill another man for touching you. And I think two deaths is enough for today,” he half-joked, pressing one more kiss to your lips. You wouldn't dream of anyone else putting their hands on you. “I will apologize to the girls, but first we need to make up for the time apart. Maybe start in the car? Show you why you should marry me?”

“That's a start,” you said as he helped you to your feet. “Where is the car taking us?”

“Our place if that's what you want,” he answered.

Our place sounds like a dream come true.

“We can go anywhere as long as I'm yours.”

“Told you that you're mine,” he smirked. “And I'm yours.”

As his lips met yours, you knew you would always belong to each other.

WHEW! Did you lovelies make it? What do we think? Love and thanks for reading! This was a whirlwind! ❤️

“buck sent me the address for a local boutique that he thinks would be right up your alley,” steve read from his phone as you took a stroll in the garden that was full of beautiful colors. “the appointment is at 3:45, so we have plenty of time to get ready and head there too. oh and he says you should get something in that one shade of green… i’m assuming you know what that is?” his brows raise in confusion, as your mirror his in a stunned expression. 

“surprisingly, i do know what he means for once.” about six weeks before the wedding, you had spent an all nighter with him amidst all of the chaotic planning. 

“accent colors are super important! right now, all we have is an off white color, and while it’s a good color, i don’t want my wedding to wash everyone out that much,” you shoved his side as you sprawled your binders out on the coffee table. 

“i say… green,” he says after pondering for a minute. 

“green… like tree green?” you chuckled at the notion. 

“i mean the green that’s light yet earthy, not too dark but not scream-in-your-face bright. it’s beautiful. plus, i think you’d look stunning in it,” he shrugs casually as if he hadn’t described a mundane color in such an alluring way.

“so a sage green?” 

“maybe more on the jade green side,” he tried to hide a smile as his thumb began to mindly trace nonsense on your thigh. 

there was such elegance in the way he described the simple color, as if saying light green wouldn’t have sufficed. clearly, there was a significance to the mundane shade that he felt the need to recommend it. 

but you knew not to ask anything further to pry, doubting his readiness to comply so easily so early in your relationship. while it was during the happiest days of your relationship, you still knew he held you at arms length. 

at the appointment, you had found several dresses in the perfect color, but only one stood out to you after trying them on. steve was also a good guide in ensuring you were choosing the right one, although you’re sure he would just say every dress looked good regardless. 

growing up, you’d read about a love that was so encapsulating that one would rather face death than be without their lover. you’d yearned for that kind of love. the kind of love that was consuming and irreversible. the kind of love where your partner wouldn’t love you in spite of your flaws, but because of them. 

and now you were married to a man who didn’t seem to feel an ounce of that towards you. sure, the months leading up to your wedding made it seem otherwise. it made you hopeful that he could maybe grow to love you, as you could grow to love him. 

because truthfully, it was hard to see many flaws in the man, other than those that were rumored in the tabloids. you’d read or heard of his anger issues and his lack of patience but abundance of irritability. yet all you’d observed is his laughter, his diligence and compassion. 

it was definitely confusing to want to believe these two contradicting tales of composure, but ultimately seeing is believing. you’d decided to believe whatever he showed you, what was right in front of his face rather than believe whatever was whispered in your ear. besides, if something was worth believing it should be said with their full chest rather than in such a low tone. 

-

“almost ready?” bucky’s low voice rang through the door as you were doing finishing touches on your hair, making sure you looked as presentable as possible. 

“i just have to put the dress on, and i’ll be ready to go!” you replied, unzipping the bag that the dress came in, even though you suggested that doing so was overkill.

“let me know if you need any help.” you heard a thud from the other side that suggested that he was leaning against the door, waiting to hear if you did happen to need any assistance. 

you replied in silence, just stepping into the dress and lifting the straps over your shoulders. it was such a beautifully made gown, truly. it hugged you in the most flattering places, accentuating just the right amount without flaunting too much. the material felt like a warm hug from a lifelong friend, you almost never wanted to take it off. 

the only downside was the damn zipper. it was a bit rough to pull over your hips alone, but once you reached your mid back it seemed to reach a snagging stop. you twisted your arms every way possible, trying to avoid the totally cliche scene of calling him in to zip you up. 

alas, the universe had other plans for you. although, how much could you complain when that would mean his rough, yet gentle hands would be against your skin…

“...bucky?” your voice meekly called out, trying to interrupt your own thoughts from spiralling down the path you wanted them to so bad. 

“yea?” his voice piped up, seeming to jump an octave or two in the process. maybe you jst startled him. 

“could you maybe help me zip this thing up?” you became quiet before the twisting of your doorknob broke the silence. “my arms can’t quite contort the way they need to in order to zip this all the way…” you refused to meet his eyes as he trailed inside the room. 

the first sign of his presence was his hands grasping your shoulders, lightly tracing down your arms. then he leaned down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, more affectionate than he’d been the entire duration of your marriage without it being prompted. 

“you look beautiful,” he pressed another kiss to your other shoulder before letting his hands fall to a respectable place on your waist, stepping back to seemingly find where the zipper got stuck. “but what’s new, right?”

you chuckled at the compliment. 

“what’ve you been doing recently?” you asked meekly. “i haven’t seen you much at all since steve started his new gig as my babysitter.”

he sighed, stopping his antics to clarify what he felt he needed to. “he’s not a babysitter. he’s my best friend, and the only person i trust to look after the woman that i-the woman that i married, okay?” you felt his deep breathing on your neck before he continued, “i don’t know where john is yet. john is notorious for taking whatever he thinks is his and that night he made it very clear what he believed.” he turned you around to face him, the dress’ zipper be damned. “if anything happens to you… just the thought keeps me up at night. i need you to understand,” his voice was desperate, pleading almost. 

you understood what he was saying. at least, you were pretty sure you did. men in positions of power like bucky typically saw the people around them as pawns. part of you thinks that he’s saying all of this as the controlling, possessive boss man bucky. and that’s the large part of you. but the small part of you, the part of you that still believes in that fairytale love you used to read about, believes that maybe he’s saying all of this because he does feel something for you… something real. 

but that part of you is like… 15 percent. maybe 20…

“i understand,” you nodded, meeting his eyes and seeing desperation, fear. seeing fear radiating from a man that projects a version of himself that’s fearless is a scary thing. 

“good,” he nodded, his eye contact faltering to the dress that clung to your body. “you look indescribable, i’m a lucky man to call you mine.” once again, he grasped your shoulders to turn you around.

this time, he promptly found the zipper, his metal hand tracing nonsensical patterns on your shoulder as he zipped the dress with his flesh one. 

“all done,” he pressed a lingering kiss to your right shoulder. “my beautiful bride.” you wanted to believe him. 

“thank you,” you took a deep breath as you turned to face him. “so, tonight… what should i be expecting?” “well, there are a few people i’ll introduce you to, and a few i have to talk to. but i’ll be with you the whole time,” he pressed his hands into his pockets. “i scheduled a car to take us, and we have about 10 minutes before it should get here.”

“so we’ll be playing the roles of loving wife and doting husband?” you nudged his shoulder before you went to grab your shoes. 

“playing? this is all real, sweetheart,” he took the shoes from your hands, promptly dropping to his knees. 

“what are you-”

“i’m putting your shoes on, my love.” you chuckled before he guided your hand to his shoulder. “gonna want to hold on.” he picked up one of your legs by your calf, grabbing the correct shoe before slowly placing your foot inside and doing the same for your other shoe.

meanwhile, you were stuck staring down at him like a lovesick idiot. this behemoth of a man was beneath you treating you like a princess by putting your heels on for you. what the hell kind of alternate universe have you entered and how can you never leave?

“well, aren’t you a romantic?” you cleared your throat as he remained on his knees, a sight you could get used to. 

“don’t let the news spread around town,” he chuckled as he let your remaining foot hit the ground but not without pressing a kiss to your ankle. “i can’t have others knowing how enamored i am by you, can we?” “enamored?” you chuckled out. “what a word,” you shook your head as you helped him to his feet. 

“the perfect word.” he trailed his hand to a loose strand of hair, twirling it around his flesh fingers before he sighed, “the car should be here soon. we should head downstairs for it.”

it was a 45 minute ride there. you sat in a respectable silence, this time it wasn’t as awkward as it has been in the past. upon arrival, the door was swiftly opened for you, bucky getting out first and then offering his hand to help you step out. the first thirty minutes of the gala went very similarly. he would introduce you to a new face or say ‘hello’ to a familiar one, wrap his arm snugly around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek and move on to the next person. 

for a bunch of folks in banking and finance, everything seemed very high stakes. there seemed to be walls up all around you, from each man and woman you said a brief hello to or were meeting for the first time. everyone had decided to adorn a mask for the night, or maybe the mask was a semi-permanent fixture. maybe they’d worn the mask for so long they forgot how to function without one. you hoped you wouldn’t face the same fate.

to be doomed to fake face for so long that you no longer remember what was once real. you wanted something real, even if what you and bucky had was technically fake when you were in public. something about what happened behind closed doors when nobody was around gave you the illusion that part of it was real. 

“have i told you how ravishing you look tonight?” bucky held you close as you swayed to the soft melody. his metal hand was clutching your waist, his flesh hand holding your own.

“i think in different words, yes,” you both began to laugh at his flattery. “you don’t have to keep doing that, y’know? the compliments and everything… i think people get the idea that this is real by now.”

“you don’t get it, do you?” he shook his head before he moved his vibranium hand to your chin, nudging it up for you to meet his eyes. 

“get what?”

“buck,” steve’s voice interrupted your dance, but that didn’t stop bucky from pulling you taut to his side.

steve leaned in to whisper in his ear, but you were able to tell by his stone cold expression that whatever message that was being relayed to him wasn’t as delightful as the desserts from tonight. 

“when?” you barely registered bucky’s low voice over the music. 

steve went back to whispering in his ear and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you wanted to speak up, “what’s going on?”

bucky looked down to you, and when you looked into his eyes, what you saw was very similar to your earlier conversation with him. this time, however, there seemed to be anger buried beneath the stoic traces of fear. that’s when it clicked.

“did they find him?” his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“you told her about-”

“i told her what she deserves to know,” bucky interrupted steve’s accusatory tone. “you don’t get to question me or the decisions i make, especially not when those decisions are in regards to my wife.”

you weren’t sure if bucky was defending you or himself with the way he jumped on steve’s gears. 

“okay, got it,” steve rse his hands in defense before he nodded. 

“what steve was telling me was in regards to him, yes,” bucky clarified. “but it’s nothing important for you to need to know. you don’t have to worry about it, my love,” he let his flesh hand play with that same strand of hair as earlier as he looked down at you like his prized possession. 

oh yea, you almost forgot. that’s what you are to him. his trophy wife, as much as you hate that phrase. 

“when can we go home?” a shiver ran down your spine. what would john even do if he did get his hands on you? was he actually as bad as bucky made him seem, or was he worse? you gripped bucky’s arm tighter as thoughts raced through your brain. 

“hey,” he turned to face you again, his eyes no longer reflecting anger or fear but tenderness. “if you want to leave, we’ll leave. steve can get the car,” he turned briefly to steve who nodded before walking off, “we can talk on the way home. i can tell how many questions are running through that pretty head of yours right now. but i can assure you,” he cupped your face in his hands, and the contrast between the cold metal and the warm flesh was oddly grounding, “as long as your with me, or steve for that matter, you won’t have anything to worry about. i would do anything it takes to keep you safe.”

you nodded, pressing your lips together in a fine line, maybe a bit of doubt running in your head at the lengths he would go to in order to protect you. would he really go to the lengths necessary? would his hand be forced to do that? 

“how bad would it be if i admitted that i was scared right now?” you couldn’t meet his eyes as you admitted it. 

“it’s not bad at all. in fact, i understand. i just hope that you know that this is why steve is watching out for you now,” he dropped his hands to your shoulders, down your arms to hold your hands. 

“will you-would you be up for staying with me tonight?” you popped the question, almost scared of his answer. “like… like you did that night? i don’t really want to be alone tonight.”

“you don’t have to explain,” he smiled. “of course i’ll stay with you.”

the ride home was similar to the ride there, but this time with your head rested on his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around you. you’re sure he thought you were asleep when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. it also wasn’t beneath you to say you liked when he did it…

so much so that you apparently did fall sleep. when you woke up, it was wrapped in strong arms. you strained your neck to look at the clock beside your bed, the one that read 2:35 am. turning in bed to look at bucky, you realized you’d never seen him so peaceful. his hair had grown out a bit long, evident by the way it laid across his forehead. 

when you moved the few locks of hair from his forehead, he began to stir awake. 

“shhh,” you hummed softly. “it’s just me. sorry i woke you.”

“don’t be sorry,” his raspy voice was alluring this early in the morning, or was it late? “i don’t think i’ve slept this good since… well, since that night.”

“are you a secret cuddler, mr. barnes?” you smiled as he pulled you in a smidge tighter as he replied. 

“and what if i am?” “there are no complaints coming from me,” he pressed yet another kiss to yourforehead, then your cheek, your other cheek, and then you pulled back to look in his eyes again. 

the only light that was peaking through was from the hallway underneath the door, but that didn’t stop you from being able to see the bright smile decorating his face, a rare sight to see. 

“how bad would it be if i admitted that i really wanted to kiss you right now?” his thumb trailed across your bottom lip, gently pulling it down and watching it bounce back into place.

“it’s not bad at all,” you let your eyes find his lips before looking into his eyes once more. 

he made the first move, taking his flesh hand and cupping your face before he softly met your lips with his. every other kiss you’d had with him had been for show, cameras or people around to witness and aww at the romantic antics of the newlyweds. this one wasn’t for show. this was purely authentic. gentle, soft, delicate. for a man like bucky, you figured he wasn’t like this very often. this was a side of him not many other people got the privilege of witnessing. 

he was precise in his movements, every swipe of his tongue and every placement his hand made was deliberate, yet he was so tender. the soft grasp of your hair, the easy glide of his hand that began to hold your waist. it was all so consuming, in the best way possible. in the way that you wanted to drown in his presence. 

when you sweeped one of your legs over his, now perched on his lap, you felt him smile against your lips. 

“you’re astounding,” he breathed into you. “breathtaking,” he rearranged his hips, accidentally brushing his hardon against your center. “shit.”

“sorry,” you smiled against him as you pulled back, resting your forehead against his. 

“nothin’ to apologize for,” he shook his head with a laugh. “i mean, you are my wife an’ all.”

“i know, but,” taking a deep breath, you tried to figure out how to word what you wanted to say to him. you came up with nothing. “i don’ know. it’s different. we haven’t necessarily been the most affectionate since our wedding.”

“i didn’t think you wanted anything more,” his face shone with disbelief. “i didn’t want you to think you were forced to be ‘affectionate’ with me. you didn’t really want to marry me in the first place. i realize that.”

were you not this puppet in his master show? some play thing for him to own and display whenever he pleased? had every story you’d heard about him been nothing but that… just stories? could this story of you and him have a happy ending?

tags:

@blackbirdwitch22

@onceithough

@learisa

@mrsnikstan

@cjand10

@mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@armystay89

@adesum

@greatenthusiasttidalwave

@loki-laufeyson68

so, when josh dropped you back off at your place with no expectations other than a smile gracing your face, showing you actually enjoyed his presence, you pulled him in for a kiss.

but there were no fireworks that went off, no spark that was suddenly engulfed in flames that refused to be extinguished.

there was calm, and somewhat peace for you.

there was a river that calmly flowed through a pasture, a field of the most beautiful wildflowers you had ever seen.

but was that what you wanted?

"i had the best time tonight, josh." you pressed your forehead against his, his hands cradling your neck as his breath fanned over your face.

"i can't tell you how happy that makes me." you could feel his smile on your own face, his cheeks bunching up at the motion. "is it too soon to already ask you on another date? i would worry about being too forward, but i can't help it when i'm feeling this way about you."

you wish those words were coming from another pair of lips, but he was so wonderful. and you liked him, really, you did. he was everything you've ever wanted. he just wasn't bucky.

"i wouldn't say it's too soon at all," you agreed to the date, wishing him a good night and ordering him to get home safely before trudging inside and dreaming of the super soldier.

-

"steve, cut the shit," bucky was tired of steve beating around the bush. "what the hell is going on?"

steve sighed, knowing that he could never really keep a secret from his best friend. "look, i know you don't want to admit you love y/n, really, i do-"

"because i don't, okay!" the look bucky shot him before he resumed lifting the weights above his head made it seem like he would much rather be chucking the weights at steve's head. "now what the hell are you going on about?"

sam had told steve he saw you on a date with another man, looking mighty happy and grinning, at that. there was no doubt in steve's mind that bucky was in love with you, either.

he knew in the little things bucky always did.

he would always make sure that when someone did grocery runs they would stock up on your snacks on the off chance that you stayed at the compound for a night or two.

he always checked in with tony to make sure you returned from a mission in good shape, and if you were ever sent to the medbay he would speed to the compound, always staying in the waiting room and never letting anyone tell you he was there. but he was always there for you.

if there was a mission where he knew you would be exhausted afterword and would want to stay at the compound, he would make up your room himself, spraying your favorite scent all over the room and making sure your pillows where exactly how you liked them before making sure the bathroom was stocked with your favorite soap, shampoo and conditioner.

the times that the team would go out for drinks together, he would tell off any man that even looked in your direction, promising they would regret it when they would never be able to look at anything ever again if they looked at his girl,

of course, steve would never tell bucky that he knew he did those things. but bucky has never cared so much about someone to be so thoughtful and caring.

although, steve also knows that bucky is absolutely shit at explaining his feelings and showing affection face to face.

"y/n's been seeing someone." only steve would be able to tell the changes in his micro-expressions with as subtle as they were. although bucky is one of the best spies in the entire world, his best friend knew him before all of it.

"and?" he pushed the word out through gritted teeth.

"you don't care?" now this was entertaining...

"why should i?" he continued on as if nothing was said.

"well, they left together," steve shrugged, now taking on a nonchalant tone to see how far he could push this. "apparently they were all over each other the whole night. he couldn't drop her hand all night," he shook his head with a chuckle. "she seemed so happy with him. especially when they-"

"i don't care!" bucky slammed the weights in their rightful place. "why should i care, steve? she's not mine, okay?"

steve stayed quiet at the outburst, holding back a grin. finally, he had broken through to him.

"i'm not sure how serious they are..." he wanted to throw bucky a bone. he couldn't help it, that was his best friend.

he got an angry grunt in response before the brunette stormed out of the gym.

-

my girl.

mine.

out with another man.

smiling,

laughing,

happy.

he knew he never deserved you anyway. he was pushing his luck by having you the way that he has been.

but god, you were addicting. once you crossed that line, once he had you one time, he was hooked.

being engulfed in your being, holding your body close to his, feeling you come apart, being the reason you fell apart... it was intoxicating.

but he never wanted to taint you, or hurt you with who he was. his past, the demons he's faced, hydra's still alive. he never wanted you to be in danger. so, he acted like he hated you to protect you, physically and emotionally.

in spite of knowing it was for the better, he fucking hated it.

he wanted to scream from the rooftops how much he loved you. how he had you, if even only for a few hours, he got to make you his. you had carved your place in his heart, and as far as he was concerned, it would never erode with time.

but hearing that you had been with another man, letting him hold you how he had yearned for so long. it was truly only a matter of time before another man realized how wonderful you were, he had only hoped that he would be able to scare them off before they approached you. seems like this time he was too late.

-

"bucky," you sighed into his mouth as his fingers plunged in and out of you. "don't stop, please," your forehead rested against his as he smirked with a knowing look.

"i feel it, princess," he chuckled. "let go for me, cum all over my fucking hand, baby," your mouth opened in a silent scream as you came on his fingers, squeezing them tight as he caught your lips in a kiss as your legs began shaking, only being supported by his body pressing yours against the wall of his apartment. "that's my girl. fuck yea, keep going, princess." he let you ride out your high with a smile on his face.

"i want you, jamie," you were the only person he let call him that. ever.

"what do you want from me, baby?" he teased as you whined, gripping his shoulders even tighter.

"i want you to fuck me, please?" you sounded so desperate, like he was the only thing that could tether you to the earth at this very moment.

"since you asked so fucking nicely," he slid inside of you in one thrust, filling you to the brim so sweetly.

it felt like, as cliché as it sounds, a puzzle that finally showed the full picture. like finally seeing color after years of only black and white. like home. ang god, he didn't want to leave.

he wrapped your legs around his waist, walking you to his bed and laying down with you as he continued fucking into you. if this was the only way he could have you, he would show you all of his passion the only way he knew how.

"so pretty under me like this," your hands were thrown over his neck, pulling his face in the crook of your own. "feel so fucking good every time, princess." his thrusts sped up as he let one hand travel down your body to play with your clit, sending you over the edge. "atta girl," he fucked you through your high as he reached his own, his cum painting your walls as you kept chanting his name in a moan.

he pressed a kiss to your cheek before rolling to lay beside you, pulling you to lay on his chest. his heartbeat had a way of grounding you. you’d read once about how sometimes your hearts would synchronize… you forgot the stipulations of that, but you hoped that it was true. because if that was true then at least you were tied to him in a way not many others would have.

you sighed contently as he did nothing more than hold you. his arms securing you to him, his heartbeat grounding you. he was enveloping you in every sense of the word, he was all around you, and you didn’t even want to complain about it. to be quite frank, you would dream of being consumed by him. about him being in your life in every possible way.

perhaps the dream you had would be more of a premonition. of the life you could have with him if you both cut your shit out. of a life full of softness and holding hands.

“buck sent me the address for a local boutique that he thinks would be right up your alley,” steve read from his phone as you took a stroll in the garden that was full of beautiful colors. “the appointment is at 3:45, so we have plenty of time to get ready and head there too. oh and he says you should get something in that one shade of green… i’m assuming you know what that is?” his brows raise in confusion, as your mirror his in a stunned expression. 

“surprisingly, i do know what he means for once.” about six weeks before the wedding, you had spent an all nighter with him amidst all of the chaotic planning. 

“accent colors are super important! right now, all we have is an off white color, and while it’s a good color, i don’t want my wedding to wash everyone out that much,” you shoved his side as you sprawled your binders out on the coffee table. 

“i say… green,” he says after pondering for a minute. 

“green… like tree green?” you chuckled at the notion. 

“i mean the green that’s light yet earthy, not too dark but not scream-in-your-face bright. it’s beautiful. plus, i think you’d look stunning in it,” he shrugs casually as if he hadn’t described a mundane color in such an alluring way.

“so a sage green?” 

“maybe more on the jade green side,” he tried to hide a smile as his thumb began to mindly trace nonsense on your thigh. 

there was such elegance in the way he described the simple color, as if saying light green wouldn’t have sufficed. clearly, there was a significance to the mundane shade that he felt the need to recommend it. 

but you knew not to ask anything further to pry, doubting his readiness to comply so easily so early in your relationship. while it was during the happiest days of your relationship, you still knew he held you at arms length. 

at the appointment, you had found several dresses in the perfect color, but only one stood out to you after trying them on. steve was also a good guide in ensuring you were choosing the right one, although you’re sure he would just say every dress looked good regardless. 

growing up, you’d read about a love that was so encapsulating that one would rather face death than be without their lover. you’d yearned for that kind of love. the kind of love that was consuming and irreversible. the kind of love where your partner wouldn’t love you in spite of your flaws, but because of them. 

and now you were married to a man who didn’t seem to feel an ounce of that towards you. sure, the months leading up to your wedding made it seem otherwise. it made you hopeful that he could maybe grow to love you, as you could grow to love him. 

because truthfully, it was hard to see many flaws in the man, other than those that were rumored in the tabloids. you’d read or heard of his anger issues and his lack of patience but abundance of irritability. yet all you’d observed is his laughter, his diligence and compassion. 

it was definitely confusing to want to believe these two contradicting tales of composure, but ultimately seeing is believing. you’d decided to believe whatever he showed you, what was right in front of his face rather than believe whatever was whispered in your ear. besides, if something was worth believing it should be said with their full chest rather than in such a low tone. 

-

“almost ready?” bucky’s low voice rang through the door as you were doing finishing touches on your hair, making sure you looked as presentable as possible. 

“i just have to put the dress on, and i’ll be ready to go!” you replied, unzipping the bag that the dress came in, even though you suggested that doing so was overkill.

“let me know if you need any help.” you heard a thud from the other side that suggested that he was leaning against the door, waiting to hear if you did happen to need any assistance. 

you replied in silence, just stepping into the dress and lifting the straps over your shoulders. it was such a beautifully made gown, truly. it hugged you in the most flattering places, accentuating just the right amount without flaunting too much. the material felt like a warm hug from a lifelong friend, you almost never wanted to take it off. 

the only downside was the damn zipper. it was a bit rough to pull over your hips alone, but once you reached your mid back it seemed to reach a snagging stop. you twisted your arms every way possible, trying to avoid the totally cliche scene of calling him in to zip you up. 

alas, the universe had other plans for you. although, how much could you complain when that would mean his rough, yet gentle hands would be against your skin…

“...bucky?” your voice meekly called out, trying to interrupt your own thoughts from spiralling down the path you wanted them to so bad. 

“yea?” his voice piped up, seeming to jump an octave or two in the process. maybe you jst startled him. 

“could you maybe help me zip this thing up?” you became quiet before the twisting of your doorknob broke the silence. “my arms can’t quite contort the way they need to in order to zip this all the way…” you refused to meet his eyes as he trailed inside the room. 

the first sign of his presence was his hands grasping your shoulders, lightly tracing down your arms. then he leaned down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, more affectionate than he’d been the entire duration of your marriage without it being prompted. 

“you look beautiful,” he pressed another kiss to your other shoulder before letting his hands fall to a respectable place on your waist, stepping back to seemingly find where the zipper got stuck. “but what’s new, right?”

you chuckled at the compliment. 

“what’ve you been doing recently?” you asked meekly. “i haven’t seen you much at all since steve started his new gig as my babysitter.”

he sighed, stopping his antics to clarify what he felt he needed to. “he’s not a babysitter. he’s my best friend, and the only person i trust to look after the woman that i-the woman that i married, okay?” you felt his deep breathing on your neck before he continued, “i don’t know where john is yet. john is notorious for taking whatever he thinks is his and that night he made it very clear what he believed.” he turned you around to face him, the dress’ zipper be damned. “if anything happens to you… just the thought keeps me up at night. i need you to understand,” his voice was desperate, pleading almost. 

you understood what he was saying. at least, you were pretty sure you did. men in positions of power like bucky typically saw the people around them as pawns. part of you thinks that he’s saying all of this as the controlling, possessive boss man bucky. and that’s the large part of you. but the small part of you, the part of you that still believes in that fairytale love you used to read about, believes that maybe he’s saying all of this because he does feel something for you… something real. 

but that part of you is like… 15 percent. maybe 20…

“i understand,” you nodded, meeting his eyes and seeing desperation, fear. seeing fear radiating from a man that projects a version of himself that’s fearless is a scary thing. 

“good,” he nodded, his eye contact faltering to the dress that clung to your body. “you look indescribable, i’m a lucky man to call you mine.” once again, he grasped your shoulders to turn you around.

this time, he promptly found the zipper, his metal hand tracing nonsensical patterns on your shoulder as he zipped the dress with his flesh one. 

“all done,” he pressed a lingering kiss to your right shoulder. “my beautiful bride.” you wanted to believe him. 

“thank you,” you took a deep breath as you turned to face him. “so, tonight… what should i be expecting?” “well, there are a few people i’ll introduce you to, and a few i have to talk to. but i’ll be with you the whole time,” he pressed his hands into his pockets. “i scheduled a car to take us, and we have about 10 minutes before it should get here.”

“so we’ll be playing the roles of loving wife and doting husband?” you nudged his shoulder before you went to grab your shoes. 

“playing? this is all real, sweetheart,” he took the shoes from your hands, promptly dropping to his knees. 

“what are you-”

“i’m putting your shoes on, my love.” you chuckled before he guided your hand to his shoulder. “gonna want to hold on.” he picked up one of your legs by your calf, grabbing the correct shoe before slowly placing your foot inside and doing the same for your other shoe.

meanwhile, you were stuck staring down at him like a lovesick idiot. this behemoth of a man was beneath you treating you like a princess by putting your heels on for you. what the hell kind of alternate universe have you entered and how can you never leave?

“well, aren’t you a romantic?” you cleared your throat as he remained on his knees, a sight you could get used to. 

“don’t let the news spread around town,” he chuckled as he let your remaining foot hit the ground but not without pressing a kiss to your ankle. “i can’t have others knowing how enamored i am by you, can we?” “enamored?” you chuckled out. “what a word,” you shook your head as you helped him to his feet. 

“the perfect word.” he trailed his hand to a loose strand of hair, twirling it around his flesh fingers before he sighed, “the car should be here soon. we should head downstairs for it.”

it was a 45 minute ride there. you sat in a respectable silence, this time it wasn’t as awkward as it has been in the past. upon arrival, the door was swiftly opened for you, bucky getting out first and then offering his hand to help you step out. the first thirty minutes of the gala went very similarly. he would introduce you to a new face or say ‘hello’ to a familiar one, wrap his arm snugly around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek and move on to the next person. 

for a bunch of folks in banking and finance, everything seemed very high stakes. there seemed to be walls up all around you, from each man and woman you said a brief hello to or were meeting for the first time. everyone had decided to adorn a mask for the night, or maybe the mask was a semi-permanent fixture. maybe they’d worn the mask for so long they forgot how to function without one. you hoped you wouldn’t face the same fate.

to be doomed to fake face for so long that you no longer remember what was once real. you wanted something real, even if what you and bucky had was technically fake when you were in public. something about what happened behind closed doors when nobody was around gave you the illusion that part of it was real. 

“have i told you how ravishing you look tonight?” bucky held you close as you swayed to the soft melody. his metal hand was clutching your waist, his flesh hand holding your own.

“i think in different words, yes,” you both began to laugh at his flattery. “you don’t have to keep doing that, y’know? the compliments and everything… i think people get the idea that this is real by now.”

“you don’t get it, do you?” he shook his head before he moved his vibranium hand to your chin, nudging it up for you to meet his eyes. 

“get what?”

“buck,” steve’s voice interrupted your dance, but that didn’t stop bucky from pulling you taut to his side.

steve leaned in to whisper in his ear, but you were able to tell by his stone cold expression that whatever message that was being relayed to him wasn’t as delightful as the desserts from tonight. 

“when?” you barely registered bucky’s low voice over the music. 

steve went back to whispering in his ear and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you wanted to speak up, “what’s going on?”

bucky looked down to you, and when you looked into his eyes, what you saw was very similar to your earlier conversation with him. this time, however, there seemed to be anger buried beneath the stoic traces of fear. that’s when it clicked.

“did they find him?” his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“you told her about-”

“i told her what she deserves to know,” bucky interrupted steve’s accusatory tone. “you don’t get to question me or the decisions i make, especially not when those decisions are in regards to my wife.”

you weren’t sure if bucky was defending you or himself with the way he jumped on steve’s gears. 

“okay, got it,” steve rse his hands in defense before he nodded. 

“what steve was telling me was in regards to him, yes,” bucky clarified. “but it’s nothing important for you to need to know. you don’t have to worry about it, my love,” he let his flesh hand play with that same strand of hair as earlier as he looked down at you like his prized possession. 

oh yea, you almost forgot. that’s what you are to him. his trophy wife, as much as you hate that phrase. 

“when can we go home?” a shiver ran down your spine. what would john even do if he did get his hands on you? was he actually as bad as bucky made him seem, or was he worse? you gripped bucky’s arm tighter as thoughts raced through your brain. 

“hey,” he turned to face you again, his eyes no longer reflecting anger or fear but tenderness. “if you want to leave, we’ll leave. steve can get the car,” he turned briefly to steve who nodded before walking off, “we can talk on the way home. i can tell how many questions are running through that pretty head of yours right now. but i can assure you,” he cupped your face in his hands, and the contrast between the cold metal and the warm flesh was oddly grounding, “as long as your with me, or steve for that matter, you won’t have anything to worry about. i would do anything it takes to keep you safe.”

you nodded, pressing your lips together in a fine line, maybe a bit of doubt running in your head at the lengths he would go to in order to protect you. would he really go to the lengths necessary? would his hand be forced to do that? 

“how bad would it be if i admitted that i was scared right now?” you couldn’t meet his eyes as you admitted it. 

“it’s not bad at all. in fact, i understand. i just hope that you know that this is why steve is watching out for you now,” he dropped his hands to your shoulders, down your arms to hold your hands. 

“will you-would you be up for staying with me tonight?” you popped the question, almost scared of his answer. “like… like you did that night? i don’t really want to be alone tonight.”

“you don’t have to explain,” he smiled. “of course i’ll stay with you.”

the ride home was similar to the ride there, but this time with your head rested on his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around you. you’re sure he thought you were asleep when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. it also wasn’t beneath you to say you liked when he did it…

so much so that you apparently did fall sleep. when you woke up, it was wrapped in strong arms. you strained your neck to look at the clock beside your bed, the one that read 2:35 am. turning in bed to look at bucky, you realized you’d never seen him so peaceful. his hair had grown out a bit long, evident by the way it laid across his forehead. 

when you moved the few locks of hair from his forehead, he began to stir awake. 

“shhh,” you hummed softly. “it’s just me. sorry i woke you.”

“don’t be sorry,” his raspy voice was alluring this early in the morning, or was it late? “i don’t think i’ve slept this good since… well, since that night.”

“are you a secret cuddler, mr. barnes?” you smiled as he pulled you in a smidge tighter as he replied. 

“and what if i am?” “there are no complaints coming from me,” he pressed yet another kiss to yourforehead, then your cheek, your other cheek, and then you pulled back to look in his eyes again. 

the only light that was peaking through was from the hallway underneath the door, but that didn’t stop you from being able to see the bright smile decorating his face, a rare sight to see. 

“how bad would it be if i admitted that i really wanted to kiss you right now?” his thumb trailed across your bottom lip, gently pulling it down and watching it bounce back into place.

“it’s not bad at all,” you let your eyes find his lips before looking into his eyes once more. 

he made the first move, taking his flesh hand and cupping your face before he softly met your lips with his. every other kiss you’d had with him had been for show, cameras or people around to witness and aww at the romantic antics of the newlyweds. this one wasn’t for show. this was purely authentic. gentle, soft, delicate. for a man like bucky, you figured he wasn’t like this very often. this was a side of him not many other people got the privilege of witnessing. 

he was precise in his movements, every swipe of his tongue and every placement his hand made was deliberate, yet he was so tender. the soft grasp of your hair, the easy glide of his hand that began to hold your waist. it was all so consuming, in the best way possible. in the way that you wanted to drown in his presence. 

when you sweeped one of your legs over his, now perched on his lap, you felt him smile against your lips. 

“you’re astounding,” he breathed into you. “breathtaking,” he rearranged his hips, accidentally brushing his hardon against your center. “shit.”

“sorry,” you smiled against him as you pulled back, resting your forehead against his. 

“nothin’ to apologize for,” he shook his head with a laugh. “i mean, you are my wife an’ all.”

“i know, but,” taking a deep breath, you tried to figure out how to word what you wanted to say to him. you came up with nothing. “i don’ know. it’s different. we haven’t necessarily been the most affectionate since our wedding.”

“i didn’t think you wanted anything more,” his face shone with disbelief. “i didn’t want you to think you were forced to be ‘affectionate’ with me. you didn’t really want to marry me in the first place. i realize that.”

were you not this puppet in his master show? some play thing for him to own and display whenever he pleased? had every story you’d heard about him been nothing but that… just stories? could this story of you and him have a happy ending?

tags:

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