Amaranth (Ch. 1)

Chapter 1 of ?

Word Count: 2477

Pairing: Loki x gn!reader

Chapter warnings: Reader swears a lot, unnamed trauma

Prev: Prologue

You were kneeling in your vegetable patch when a shadow loomed over you, blocking out the afternoon sunlight. You sighed and wiped away the sweat on your brow, glowering as you turned to look at the intruder.

The Spare [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Alternate perspective of Two Gods One Heart from Loki No.3 live from the 'Cuck Chair'. Absolute nonsense. Although if we're splitting hairs, read that one first. (w/c 1.5k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Who the eff knows. Threesome. Cucking. Loki being a bitch to himself. Jealousy. Masturbation. Silliness. MMF. Fanfic of my own fanfic. A/N: I literally wrote this in like an hour and a half so please adjust your expectations accordingly😂 Just a bit of fun.

How the hel did it come to this?

Loki watched from the shadows as two identical versions of himself stripped their shirts and threw them down, grinning. Their leather trousers vanished in a garish flash of green from the hand of the ‘true’ him. Show off.

His own leathers still clung to the long lines of his thighs. Mocking him. Bastards, all, he thought bitterly, and not for the first time. The laughing, handsy Lokis’ had turned to fixing each other’s hair in a manner which could only be described as conspiratorial. How I hate them.

Tolerate it

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

words: 1.7k

summary: He comes home bleeding. Again. You ask what's wrong. He kisses you instead. You let him— until you can't, not anymore. Love is not the problem. Silence is.

warnings: implied smut, detailed description of making out— almost smut actually but then a truckload of angst to balance the vibes, cussing, not a happy ending

a/n: i'd say sorry in advance but i'll be honest i enjoyed this way too much lmao. fic clearly based on tolerate it by taylor swift. special shoutout to the best person of all time @foreverwinterstan13, the person without whom this fic would not have existed at all, ilysm, this one's for you *shoots basketball into hoop and misses*

Safe and Sound

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: After a difficult night on patrol, Matt comes back home feeling like he can't do it alone. Luckily, you're there to remind him that he doesn't have to. Inspired by the song "Safe and Sound", by Taylor Swift. You can listen to it here.

Warnings: Mentions of a mild panic attack. Besides that, just a lot of comfort <3

A/n: I've been rewatching Daredevil season 2 and this fic was created out of the pure and irrational urge that I have to protect and comfort this man at all costs. Also, this is my first time writing for Matt. Enjoy! - - - -

New York City felt different that night. Noisier. Louder. Matt sensed it the moment he went outside the rooftop exit of his apartment. Sirens wailed in the distance, coming from every direction, their urgency bleeding into the restless city. Screams, footsteps quickly pounding against the pavement. The sounds echoed off the buildings, rattling through the streets like a warning, setting him on edge before he even reached the ground.

He knew the city would need him that night. Nights like these reminded him why he did what he did, why he had to leave you behind, even though it crushed him every time. He knew you always waited up for him, no matter how many times he begged you not to. He knew you couldn’t sleep until he came back, because you worried, not just if he’d return in one piece, but if he’d return at all.

He hated the nights he came back hurt, knowing how scared you got at the sight of his bloody suit or the open cuts on his skin. He could always hear the trembling in your hands when you stitched him up, even though you tried so hard to hide it behind a reassuring smile. But he was so proud of you. You were getting good at this. And more than anything, he was grateful. Grateful that you were there every night, waiting for him. Grateful that, no matter how brutal the city was, he had a home to return to.

He went out that night, already anxious to return. To your touch, to your scent, to your voice, the few things that always brought him back when everything became too overwhelming.

You watched him disappear through the little upstairs window, whispering a silent prayer to whatever God was listening to bring him back safe. You did it every night.

Pulling your blanket up to your neck, you adjusted yourself on the couch and put on an episode of Friends, hoping it would distract you from the worry. It usually worked. When you started to doze off, you got up to make yourself a cup of tea, a way to keep your body moving before sleep fully took over. Some nights, it was exhausting trying to stay awake. But you did it anyway. Because you wanted Matt to know that when he came home, there was someone to clean his bruises, to stitch his cuts, to help him out of the suit when his body was too sore to do it himself.

After two cups of chamomile tea, countless Candy Crush matches and several Friends episodes, you were startled by the sound of heavy footsteps coming from the upstairs area of the apartment. You let out a quiet sigh, relieved that at least he was back. You shifted your body into a sitting position, ready to examine his every movement and assess how bad the damage was tonight. 

You watched Matt come down the stairs in silence, his red suit reflecting the purple glow of the obnoxious billboard outside. You waited for the usual “I’m back, sweetheart” he always said to you, but tonight, there was nothing. Only the sound of his boots against the floor. You noticed that his head hung slightly low, shoulders tense, plump lips pressed into a firm line. Even with his helmet on, you could still see it, the tension in his face, the weight he carried.

Something was wrong.

He muttered a low “I’m back, you can go back to sleep”, offering you a forced smile before crossing the living room and heading straight to the bathroom. He usually showered right after patrol, but tonight, your gut told you to follow him.

You slowly got up from the couch and made your way to the bathroom, bracing yourself for whatever you might have to deal with. You just hoped he wasn’t seriously injured and trying to play it off like it was nothing, because that wouldn’t be the first time.

Standing in the doorway, you quietly observed Matt in the dark bathroom. Only a faint neon light seeping through the small window. He stood at the sink, both arms braced against the counter, head hanging low. His breaths were deeper than usual, like he was trying to calm himself down. He was still in full gear, the red uniform clinging to his tired body. 

“Matt”, you said softly, careful not to startle him. “Is everything alright, honey?”

He took a slow, deep breath, exhaling through his mouth before answering.

"Yes, sweetie," he replied, offering you another half-smile. "I'm okay. I'm just…" he paused, gripping the sink harder. "The city was so loud tonight. So many people needed help, and I- I couldn’t get to everyone. I couldn’t-"

You sensed his anxiety and immediately stepped into the bathroom, placing a gentle hand on the exposed part of his face, in an attempt to ground him. You had seen this before. He was overwhelmed and overstimulated, both by his heightened senses and his emotions.

"Hey, how about we take that suit off?" you suggested, gently guiding his face toward yours. "You'll be more comfortable." Slowly, you lifted the helmet from his head, feeling the heat of his skin, his body still in panic mode.

His hair was a mess, and you smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, the faint scratch of his stubble against your lips.

"There we go," you whispered as you pulled away. "Much better, isn’t it?"

He closed his eyes and took a breath again, unconsciously relaxing under your touch.

You helped him out of his boots and unzipped the rest of the suit until he was left in just his black boxers. Tossing the uniform onto the bathroom floor, you noticed his breathing was still heavier than usual.

You took the opportunity and scanned his body, looking for any possible injuries. “Are you hurt?” you calmly asked him, worried if there was something you were not seeing.

"Not tonight," he replied, lifting his right hand to gently cup your face. You realized he didn’t want to talk, not right now. He just needed to feel you, feel your warmth and your skin, something real to ground himself.

You kissed the palm of his hand gently, trying to give him the physical comfort he needed right now. You took his other hand and placed it on your heart,  knowing he was probably already focusing on its rhythm anyways. He always told you he liked listening to your heartbeat, that the steady sound calmed him like nothing else.

“It’s okay, Matt. You’re here, you’re home” you murmured, hoping to help his body understand that whatever had happened out there was over now. His palm was warm against your chest, and you placed your hand over his. You watched as he closed his eyes again, trying to shut out the noise, both outside and inside his head.

"Is my heart beating fast or slow?" you asked, using the familiar tactic of simple questions to help pull him away from his anxiety.

“Slow”, he answered, with his usually velvety voice.

"Can you feel how warm my skin is?"

"Warm... and soft. As usual," he said, his large hand grazing your collarbone before trailing up to your neck. His sweet comment made you smile.

You took a small step closer, lifting your hand to trace the shape of his nose. With your index finger, you touched his forehead, then slowly ran it down the bridge of his nose until you reached the tip. You always did this when he couldn’t sleep, or when you just wanted him to feel relaxed. Now, you hoped the familiar gesture would help him relax enough to talk. As much as he seemed a little calmer, you still needed to know, what had happened tonight? What had left him so overwhelmed?

"Do you feel better?" you asked softly, still tracing his nose before slipping your arms around his neck.

"A little, yes. Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured, his hands settling gently on your waist.

"Did something happen tonight? You don’t have to go into details, but you know I can’t help but worry about you out there."

You recalled what he had said moments ago, how the city had been especially loud, with too many cries for help at once, and how he hadn’t been able to answer them all. You could already guess he was drowning in guilt, as usual, but you needed to make sure there wasn’t something more.

He directed his gaze somewhere close to your chin, taking a few moments before answering, trying to gather his thoughts into something that would make at least a little sense to you.

You placed a gentle hand on the nape of his neck, fingers threading through his soft hair, a silent reassurance that you were here, listening to whatever he had to say.

"The city was so loud tonight, (Y/n). It always is, but tonight... It was too much. Sirens, gunshots, screams, everywhere. Women screaming, children screaming, all at once. Every time I tried to focus on one direction, there was another cry for help pulling me somewhere else”

You felt his heart starting to race again, and you put one of your hands on his chest, trying to remind him that he didn’t need to continue.

"There was a woman getting beat up by her husband while her little boy watched, begging his father to stop," he continued, his voice heavy. Even as you noticed his hazel eyes glossing over with unshed tears, you knew he needed to let it all out. For once.

Tears began to slip down his face, and you reached up to wipe one away with your fingers. It broke your heart to see him like this.

"At the same time, there was a girl being dragged into an alley because... because some lowlife decided her bag and her body were his to take." His voice wavered, frustration and sorrow mixing in his expression as more tears fell.

You cried with him, heartbroken by all this weight he carried alone.

"How am I supposed to make a choice like that?" he asked, his voice cracking, though it felt more like he was questioning God than you. His face was soaked with tears.

"How am I supposed to choose who gets help and who doesn’t? Who lives and who dies? I’m just one man! I can’t decide that. I can’t."

"Matt," you interrupted softly, cupping his face between your hands. "Matt, listen to me." You wiped his tears away with your fingertips, though your own vision was blurred by your own.

"Yes, you’re just one man. A man that has the kindest, most selfless heart I have ever known. You risk your life for people you don’t even know, do you hear me?"

His body shook with silent sobs, his head hanging low as he finally let all of his guilt and sorrow spill out. It hurt to see him like this, but you knew it was necessary.

"Listen to me," you urged again, tilting his face up to meet yours. "You’re not out there to make impossible choices, you’re out there to do what you can. It is your purpose, and you already give more than your best. All these scars on your body? They’re proof of that, Matt."

This time, it was Matt who wiped your tears, his silent way of thanking you for saying what he so desperately needed to hear.

"I’m here every night stitching you up, disinfecting your wounds, icing your bruises. So if anyone can say that what you do is more than enough, it’s me, okay? Please don’t take this burden on alone, it's too much for anyone to carry."

Matt pulled you into the tightest hug, burying his face in your hair as if he could physically hold onto your words and make them real. You held him close, rubbing slow circles on his back until his breathing steadied and his tears finally slowed.

“It’s over now, okay? This night is over and you did the best you could.” You made sure to remind him, while smoothing his messy hair to the side. “I know, but.. even here, even now, I can still hear the city. It doesn’t stop.” His voice was low, exhausted.

You took one of his hands in yours, pressing a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles. "So what do you need from me, Matt?" you asked gently. "Tell me."

He was quiet for a moment, his free hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered for a second longer than usual.

“Will you sing to me?” he questioned shyly, facing you with the most loving look on his eyes. The request surprised you, but more than anything, you felt honored that he trusted you enough to ask for this. 

"You know I love your voice," he added, while holding your chin. He was trying to make you feel less self-conscious, which he knew was how you felt every time he asked you to sing more around him.  

You let out a small, fond sigh, while taking him by the hand. "Oh, what I wouldn’t do for you, Murdock… Come here."

You led him to your shared bed, climbing in first and urging Matt to follow. Noticing the exhaustion on his face, you felt reassured that bringing him to bed had been the right choice. You hoped to soothe him enough for sleep to finally take over.

“Come here,” you called softly, patting the spot beside you. You sat upright, your back resting against the pillows at the head of the bed.

Without hesitation, he lay down next to you, instinctively resting his head against your chest.

He inhaled deeply, taking advantage of the position to drown himself in your scent. He rested his arms around your waist and back, feeling the silky touch of your summer pajama set. You always made sure to wear clothes that were gentle on his senses.

“You comfortable?” you asked, making sure the position was good for both of you. You could already feel the weight of his muscles relaxing against you.

He only answered with a groan, indicating that he was so comfortable he didn’t even want to speak. Words felt unnecessary, just being there, feeling your warmth and steady heartbeat, was enough.

“What song should I sing?”

“Anything. I just want to hear your voice.”

You searched your mind for a song that could show him everything you felt, but could rarely say it to him. A melody that could show him how your heart ached in your chest every time he stumbled through that door battered and burdened, or every time he blamed himself because he wasn’t fast enough to save someone who needed his help. You wanted him to know that if you could, you would shield him from it all, the same way he so desperately tried to shield this city. He was always the protector, always the one worrying, always the one putting himself between the world and its darkness. You wanted to do the same for him, to take even a fraction of his pain, to be his refuge the same way he was for you and for so many other people throughout Hell’s Kitchen.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. Your fingers absentmindedly ran through Matt’s hair, feeling the soft strands beneath your touch. You knew he was waiting, waiting for your voice, for the comfort he had asked for but rarely allowed himself to receive.

So you sang.

I remember tears streaming down your face When I said I'll never let you go When all those shadows almost killed your light

Your voice was soft, a whisper against the noise of the city outside.

I remember you said don’t leave me here alone But all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight

You lowered your head, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead, a silent reassurance, a vow without words. His arms tightened ever so slightly around you, as if grounding himself in the warmth of your presence.

Then, softly, you continued into the chorus.

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light You and I’ll be safe and sound

Your fingers traced soothing patterns along his back, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breath. His grip on you loosened just a little, the tension in his muscles melting away with every note that left your lips. You felt Matt’s lips press against your collarbone in a quiet, wordless thank you.

Don’t you dare look out your window Darling, everything’s on fire The war outside our door keeps raging on

You continued, raising your hand to caress the stubble on his face, tracing every line of his features. It wasn’t often that you got to admire him like this, without the bruises and blood demanding your attention. Just him, safe in your arms.

Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone, down to his jaw, committing every inch of him to memory. The way his eyelashes fluttered slightly at your touch, the way his lips parted just the slightest as he melted further into you.

For now, he wasn’t Daredevil. He wasn’t a hero burdened with impossible choices. He was just Matt, your Matt. And you would hold him for as long as he needed.

Hold on to this lullaby Even when the music’s gone Gone

The steady rhythm of your fingers through his hair guided him away from the chaos of the city.

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now

At this point you realized he was starting to drift off to sleep. You adjusted the blankets around the two of you, making sure his exposed back was covered. You felt the rise and fall of his chest begin to slow, the tension in his shoulders finally melting away beneath your touch. His arms remained around you, looser now, more trusting, like his body had finally surrendered to rest.

Your fingers found their way back to his hair, lazily brushing through the dark strands as your song faded into silence. Outside, the city murmured like it always did. Distant sirens, cars, honks, but in your shared little world, everything was still.

“You still with me?” you whispered, not expecting an answer.

No answer. Just his breath, calm and deep. He was finally asleep. You looked down at his peaceful features and smiled with a tenderness that welled up from the deepest parts of your chest.

“I’ve got you, Matt. Always.” you leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, like sealing a promise with your lips.

You then rested your head back against the pillows, your arms still wrapped around him. His warmth and his scent lingered in the air around you, grounding you just as you had grounded him. Outside, the familiar sounds of Hell’s Kitchen filtered through the windows. You hated it for all the ways it hurt him. You loved it for all the ways it had led him to you.

With his steady breath against your skin, the weight of him safe in your arms, you finally let yourself close your eyes.

For now, he was here. For now, he was safe. And that was enough.

.

Thanks for reading! Feedback and comments are always welcome! ❤️

Mr. Congressman

The above image does not indicate the reader's physical appearance.

Jane Doe. (Part 1?)

Summary: They weren’t next door neighbors, but they did live in the same apartment complex. However, they were on completely different sides of the complex. Steve always sees her across the way, doing her daily routines, and way about life on her balcony when he sits on his own. Something about her has him checking in on her when he’s out… She’s intriguing and has a way about her life that he finds calming and captivating. He wants to know more about who she is, but there’s no non-creepy way of approaching a neighbor that doesn’t know you exist. Is there?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 4100+

A/N: I tend to like dialogue-heavy writing and reading but to start this drabble, I really dove into creating a background for what the story would be about and the details behind the thoughts and actions. So it was a little weird for me, but I think it turned out decent. Please do let me know what you think, though, because I am still iffy on this one… However, I loved the concept and ran with it as best as I could :)

-This will most likely be a 2 or 3 part mini-series. It was just going to be a drabble, but I just couldn’t end it here and also didn’t want to make this Ten Thousand words… Let me know what you think!

___________________________

Keep reading

Assisting Congress pt 2

Pairing: Congressman Bucky & fem reader/law librarian

Content: mutual pining

🖤

Synopsis: Bucky takes his favourite research assistant back to his place for dinner.

Read part one here.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“I’m parked in the garage,” she points to the large concrete monstrosity to the left.

“We can take my car,” he suggests. “I’ll bring you back after.”

“Oh, um, okay,” she agrees. He leads her toward the sleek black sedan, hand on her middle back, guiding her.

“I’m glad you said yes,” he says as he opens the passenger side door for her. He helps her in with a hand.

“Me too,” she replies, putting her purse in her lap. Bucky shuts the door behind her and walks around to the driver’s side, heart fluttering. He slides in and turns the car on with a purr. He can feel her eyes on him and turns to meet her gaze. She bites her lower lip and immediately looks out of her window instead, not ready to face the fact that she’d nearly kissed him in the library. She’d nearly kissed a congressmen in her place of work. Just being around him made her forget about the rules she lived by. The rules she should be following right now. She watched his hands grip the steering wheel as he pulled on the main road. Veins, muscles, the metal, God, she wondered what they felt like on her-

“You okay?” Bucky asks, interrupting her thought.

“Hmm?” She replies, looking at him instead of his delicious hands.

“You look worried,” he explains and says her name, “I told you I’ll take care of you if something happens, but nothing will. Those policies are in place because of Clinton. That was decades ago.”

She giggles, “I was looking at your hands.”

Bucky examines them himself, flexing the vibranium one before placing it back on the steering wheel. He swallows, staring straight ahead at the road sternly.

“I- uh, I like it,” she says quietly. “It’s not- I hope you don’t feel weird about. I wasn’t looking at you like a circus freak, it was more like, um, well… I just think you have sexy hands. Both of them.”

“Oh,” he replies, taking his flesh hand off the wheel, and putting it palm up on the center console, steering with just his left hand. She took his silent invitation and traced the lines of his palm with her fingertips.

“Mmm, that feels nice,” Bucky says quietly. He intertwines their fingers and holds her hand. “We’re almost there.”

“Bucky?” She asks.

“Yes?” He replies, rubbing his thumb on the back of her hand.

“We almost kissed back there. In the library.” She looks over at him.

“I know, I was there,” he says with a chuckle.

“I don’t even know you. Not really,” she says, laughing. “And I was like an inch away from kissing you.”

“Hey, I’m not a total stranger,” he clarifies. “We’ve worked on proposals together. And to be fair, we would have kissed if we weren’t interrupted.”

“Yeah, but I don’t kiss on the first date. That’s my rule,” she says. “And you just swooped in and made me forget about it. It’s those damned sleeves. You have to put those away.” She gestures to his bare forearms.

“Maybe you have too many rules,” Bucky replies, placing his hand on her exposed thigh, and brushing with his knuckles. He watches as goosebumps raise on her skin.

“Maybe you’re right,” she whispers, placing her hand over his.

“We’re here,” he says as he pulls into the parking garage and finds a spot. She starts to open her door, but he stops her.

“I got it. One second,” Bucky gets out and walks around to open her door, helping her out. They walk hand in hand to the elevator. She watches as Bucky pushes the number for his floor and the doors close.

Bucky could cut the sexual tension with a knife. He squeezes her hand and she looks up at him.

“I want to kiss you right now, but I’ll respect your rule,” he says in a sultry tone.

“Maybe I could break it?” She asks, moving a step closer to him, looking at his lips.

“You sure about that?” He looks down at her perfect mouth.

“No,” she says with a smirk, turning back to face the opening elevator door.

“Tease,” Bucky whispers under his breath, leading them to his door. He watches her hips sway in her skintight dress and feels the blood rush to his groin. She was making him work for it, and he fucking loved it.

He opens the door and lets her enter first.

“Wow, your apartment is so nice,” she exclaims. “It’s so clean and tidy.”

“I don’t have a lot of stuff, so it’s easy to keep it clean,” Bucky explains.

"So, what should we get for dinner?" She asks.

"Oh, we aren't getting anything. I'm cooking," Bucky corrects her.

"You're going to cook for me?" She asks wide-eyed.

"I'm going to cook us a meal, yes. Anything you don't like or don't eat?" He asks while opening the refrigerator.

"Not really," she says. "I didn't know you could cook."

"Well, you don't really know me, remember?" He jokes with her.

"Funny," she says sarcastically.

"There's wine down there," Bucky gestures to the small wine fridge under the countertop. "Pick what you'd like and we can have some while I cook. Probably a red. I'm going to make filets."

She peruses the wine selection and picks out a safe-looking Cab. Bucky supplies two wineglasses and a bottle opener, twisting the cork off with ease. She does her best not to watch his deft hands at work. He pours two glasses, offering her one.

"Let me guess, Goody Two Shoes has a rule about drinking on weeknights," he says as he takes a long sip.

"Even if I did, you seem to have me breaking all of my rules anyway," she takes an equally long sip. "It's delicious. Thank you."

She watches Bucky set out all of the ingredients for their dinner. "Can I help with anything?"

"You can tell me something about you that no one else knows," Bucky offers.

She makes herself comfortable by hopping up on the kitchen island, legs dangling off the side, watching Bucky prep everything and heat the skillet. Bucky's chest tightens at the sight of her so casual on his countertop. God, she was driving him nuts without even trying.

"Ooh, I won my junior high spelling bee," she offers.

"Easily Googled," he waves it away. "Tell me something deeper."

"Deeper? I don't know. I'm not that exciting," she shrugs.

"I somehow highly doubt that," Bucky smirks, dropping their steaks into the heated pan.

“Something no one else knows? I- uh, I’ve never… no, nevermind.” Bucky sees her cheeks turn pink, and not from the wine.

“No, tell me,” Bucky encourages her, tossing a green bean in his mouth. “You’ve never what? You’ve never smoked weed? You’ve never kissed on the first date? You’ve never…?”

“I’ve never had an orgasm,” she spits out, finishing the wine in her glass.

Bucky chokes on the green bean in his mouth, but recovers just as quickly.

“Oh my God, why did I tell you that?!” She jumps off the counter, reaching for more wine.

Bucky considers his next comment carefully, “Maybe you think I can help you change that.” He finishes plating their meals while she stood there looking at him.

“Maybe you’re right,” she says for the second time that evening, taking a step closer to him.

“Don’t tempt me,” he challenges darkly, vibranium hand flexing.

“We should eat dinner. You made this beautiful meal,” she gestures to the plates.

“You’re right. Let’s have dinner.”

———

Taglist: @maryevm @mrs-elsie-barnes

Assisting Congress

Pairing: Congressman Bucky & fem reader/law librarian

Content: mutual pining, mention of masturbation

🖤

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes has a crush on his favourite research assistant and finally asks her out.

I’m thinking this could be part one of a miniseries. Let me know if you’d be interested. I also wrote the majority from Bucky’s POV.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

You’ve been working as a research assistant at the Library of Congress for a little over a year now, and you understand the importance of professional boundaries, but every time Congressman Barnes requests you specifically for research help on a bill, your thoughts can’t help but wander. Why only you? Are you imagining the way he looks at you?

“Good evening,” the Congressman says with a gentle smile as he approaches the door of your closet-sized office.

You stand up immediately and smooth your dress, “Congressman Barnes, hello. I have the documents you requested.” You swallow and do your best not to stare at the cords of muscle rippling through his flesh forearm. Why did he have to roll up his shirt sleeves? It should be illegal. Granted, it was a sweltering day and you felt your own office getting warmer as the day went on. You’d shed your blazer hours ago, leaving only your black sleeveless dress underneath. You start to walk over to the filing cabinet to get the papers for him.

The Campaign 

Congressman!Bucky Barnes x personal assistant/PR!manager Reader

Synopsis: Hired as Barnes’ personal assistant and PR!manager, he was constantly pushing your buttons when it came to maintaining his public image and managing his day-to-day routines. But as much as he stresses you out, you find yourself falling head over heels over your boss.

Content warnings: fluffy and crack, small angst, swearing, mentions of smoke and drinking, a little steamy but not smutty, no use of y/n, you are so tired of his bs but he loves you, pining, boss x employee relationship, friends to lovers situation

a/n: this might be my favourite piece I have written for Bucky. I also tried to keep it gender-neutral. I also apologize if I get stuff wrong about how voting and congress works, I am not American lol. also i did not proof read this sorry!

word count: 5k (whew)

It was only 7:30 am and you could use a glass of Bourbon and a cigarette. 

You ought to just go radio silent one of these days. Clearly, you were not paid enough to be James Buchanan Barnes’ glorified babysitter. Everyday, there was something new going on with the former Winter Soldier and today was the worst one yet. An early morning call from Sam Wilson always meant bad news, but whatever he had to say gave you a raging migraine and it hasn’t reached 9 am yet.

‘You’re kidding me. What got released to the public?’ you screeched over the phone.

This is how you found yourself marching into your boss’s apartment with a bedhead you barely cared to fix, and a poorly done business causal outfit, with a hefty pile of files bound together with several manila binders under your arm. 

‘James, you open this door right now!’ you hollered, accompanying your anger with an booming knock on his door. 

An exasperated sigh was heard through the thin walls. You were soon met with a tired Bucky Barnes who was wearing nothing but grey sweatpants. ‘Y’know, it’s really unprofessional to address your boss by their first name.’

Shoving the mental image of his delectable half-naked figure in the back of your head, you shoved the man out of the way and stomped into his kitchen island. You were too mad to ogle your boss that you unfortunately found very attractive.

‘You got a Scotch? I could really use a glass right now.’ you murmured, grabbing the nearest glass and scattering the files onto his marbled counter.

Bucky checked his watch on his wrist. ‘The fuck do you need a glass of Scotch for? Sweetheart, it’s only 7:50am!’

You resorted to a cold glass of milk, since there was no liquor to be found. ‘Look at the files I dropped and you tell me, James.’ 

The super soldier shuffled his way toward the pile of paperwork. As he quickly scanned around, a growing smirk grew on his lips. Noticing this, you groaned, rubbing your fingers over the deepening crease on your brows.

‘Do you know what I woke up with, James? I woke up with Captain America panicking over the phone because someone decided to leak the information I worked so hard to bury!’ you fumed. Swirling your glass of milk like it was hard liquor, you gulped it down, trying to calm your steaming head.

Bucky’s vibranium, fingers grazed over the paper and picked it up. It read ‘POTENTIAL CONGRESSMAN JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES RESPONSIBLE FOR THE ASSASSINATION OF JFK?’

He inquisitive tilted his head in confusion. ‘I thought everyone knew this?’

A nice smooth roll of tobacco sounded so good right now. 

‘Are you KIDDING me?! What part of ‘I worked so hard to bury the information’ don’t you understand?!’ you bellowed, startling the man in front of you. Slapping both of your palms on the marbled counter, Bucky could see you heaving and seething from anger.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips. He carefully made his way towards your side and wrapped you with a side hug. His fleshed fingers slowly rubbed your arms up and down in an attempt to soothe your anger. ‘Alright, alright. I guess I slipped up that one interview where I jokingly said ‘the president better watch his back.’ Someone probably took that to heart and found out that I might’ve assassinated JFK.’

You turned your head and squinted. ‘You need to learn how to keep your mouth shut.’

‘Maybe you can shut it for me, sweetheart.’ Bucky teased.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, fighting the growing blush on your cheeks. It was safe to say that your relationship with Bucky has gone past strictly business professional. The two of you grew close for the past year, and you felt that there was something more. But, for the sake of the job nature and your sanity, you couldn’t act upon it.

A gentle smack on his chest caused him to let go of you. ‘Alright you smooth talker. That might've worked during the 40s, but you’re asking to get smacked by women if you say that.’ 

‘But Sam taught me that last week.’ Bucky shrugged.

‘That’s it. I don’t care if he’s Captain America, I’m limiting his visitation hours with you, Mr. Barnes.’ you scoffed. Grabbing the glass that was sitting on the counter, you reached for the milk carton to pour another.

The super soldier gave you a knowing look. ‘Honestly? I’ll be glad if you did. He talks too much sometimes.’

A grin donned your features as you downed another glass of milk. ‘Didn’t expect you to agree to that. Go get dressed Barnes, I called for another press conference at 10am and you better explain yourself.’

‘Yes ma’am.’ he saluted. As he made his way to his room, he paused, and looked back at you. Pursing your lips in anticipation, you expected him to throw a snarky comment at you. And that’s exactly what he did.

‘Y’know, this information coming to the public isn’t that bad. I heard the Gen Z were into that kind of thing.’ Bucky teasingly quipped.

He was met with a flying salt shaker to his head.

Your ‘Days Bucky doesn’t tarnish his public image’ counter reset to 0 two days later.

A few hours ago, Bucky appeared at a charity gala that was hosted by Stark Industries. It surprised you, knowing the history between his time as the Winter Soldier and him being responsible for the murder of Howard and Maria Stark. Alas, you learned a long time ago that politics was a messy, dirty game, and you were just a personal assistant to yet another political candidate.

Yet, Bucky wasn’t just another politician you assisted, he was basically a dashing 110-year-old dashing man who always found himself leaving a mess wherever he went.

And tonight was one of those nights. It was going so well during the gala, all he had to do was sit pretty and make mindless talk with the other important figures. You knew that he didn’t want to go in the first place, so you made a deal with him; if he went and did not make a commotion, you would treat him to your favourite Shawarma spot in New York. He complied, and was doing so well.

Until you found yourself catering to his wounds back in his apartment.

The super soldier grunted in pain as your fingers pressed antibiotics into his open scratch on his forehead. 

‘Hey, are you trying to hurt me more?’ he whined.

Paying no mind to his complaint, you continued to apply more, digging into the wound even further.

‘Jesus, sweetheart! At this point you’re hurting me more than trying to patch my wounds!’ Bucky moaned, wincing as you finally put a gauze on the wounded area. 

‘Yeah right.’ you finally shot back. ‘You have super soldier serum running through your veins Barnes. You’re a big boy, you can deal with it.’

Looking away from the man, you rummaged through the first aid kit on lap as you searched for more gauze. As your eyes raised up to face him again, Bucky gave you an apologetic stare, like a whimpering puppy.

‘Save it James.’ you huffed, continuing to patch the wound on his flesh arm. ‘You broke your promise, so you’re not getting Shawarma with me tonight.’

‘Aww, come on! I really didn’t mean to!’ he pouted. James Buchanan Barnes. Pouting at his personal assistant. If only the world could see that.

‘Oh really?’ your voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘You didn’t mean to uppercut John Walker in the face in a public event?’

‘Listen sweetheart, he started it!’

‘I find that hard to believe Barnes.’

Bucky pleaded to you with his sky blue eyes. ‘You have to believe me. There’s a reason why I did it.’

A sarcastic laugh escaped your lungs. ‘Do you really live to annoy and stress me out all the time James?’ You bit the medical tape, ripping a piece and placing it on top of the gauze that was placed on his arm.

Silence filled Bucky’s living room before he finally confessed. ‘I didn’t like the way he spoke about you.’

Your eyes widened with his revelation, and halted your actions. It was suddenly hard to breathe.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you stared at the super soldier in disbelief. ‘What?’ 

Bucky pursed his lips before he continued. ‘I know, I know. He was taunting me. Walker came to me wanting to make small talk and I guess he was getting cocky and started to talk smack about you. Degrading you and your abilities. Called you names, diminished your accomplishments. I couldn’t stand there and let him do that to you sweetheart.’

It was like Bucky squeezed your heart with his mechanical arm. Blood started to rush towards your ears, with your neck heating up. Your boss cared enough to defend you, even when you were absent.

His eyes gazed down to your hands as he took it with his fleshed ones. ‘I know it seems that I make your life a hundred times harder. Always cleaning up my messes, always making sure that I can win my campaign. It’s the least I can do for you while you do so much for me.’

You continued to stare at him. His confession knocked your breath away. All this time he genuinely cared for you.

He looked up once more and gazed upon your eyes. ‘I’ll fix this myself sweetheart. Go get rest tonight.’

He quietly searched your eyes for some sort of answer, while you continued to sit in silence.

After what seemed an eternity, he was met with your answer.

‘Bucky, you absolute idiot.’ you whispered, with tears pricking your eyes. ‘Thank you. You’re a good friend.’

The word friend stung his heart, but it was for the best. Wanting to pursue a relationship beyond friendship would be selfish on his part. He always wanted to, since he harboured a little crush on you ever since you first entered his life. But Bucky knew, he should know, that he can’t have everything in life. It would be too selfish. After all, he didn’t deserve it.

‘Yeah.’ he croaked. ‘So, am I off the hook now? Can we get some shawarma?’

A shaky sigh escaped your lips. Resuming your task to patch him up, a small smile adorned your lips as you shook your head.

‘After this, change to something casual. By the way, you’re paying.’ you jested.

A low chuckle escaped Bucky’s lungs, and you laughed with him in response. Although you wished for something more, you were content with the way things were right now.

Tonight was the big day. It was election day. The results of your hard work will determine if it was enough for Bucky to be elected as a congressman. After today, you could finally rest easy, and possibly continue working for him as an assistant to a congressman. After all, you found yourself attached to him after a year of working with him. 

However, as soon as you walked into his apartment, you wished that you worked for someone else.

‘Alright Barnes, are you ready to go? The car is waiting-’ your voice faded as your eyes landed on the frazzled super soldier.

His medium cut hair was a mess, with strands sticking up in every direction. His navy blue blazer was scattered on the floor. The white long sleeve dress shirt he wore was unbuttoned, unironed and stained with red sauce. However, the white wife beater he wore underneath was miraculously unstained. The notebook, which had the speech you wrote, was lying on the counter, smothered with pizza sauce. Most of all, his other arm was missing.

Bucky froze midway from biting a pizza slice as you barged in. His wide eyes stared at you in shock, with the pizza bending down and dripping onto his white garment. He looked down with his mouth hanging open once he realized that he messed up his outfit of the night.

Your feet felt like they were stuck on the ground as you stared at your boss incredulously.

‘James Buchanan Barnes, are you shitting me?! The election gala is in one hour!’ you scolded him. 

Slamming the front door shut, you angrily sauntered into the kitchen area, picking up his fallen blazer and draping it on your arm.

‘Hey sweetheart.’ Bucky said casually, continuing to munch on his pizza as he glazed over the notebook once more. You look stunning.’

‘Sweet talk isn’t going to get me less angry Barnes! I literally got that dress shirt last week, and you stained it!’ you fumed, walking to his side and grabbing the shirt by the collar, forcing him to shed it off of his body, leaving him with just his navy blue dress pants and wife beater. ‘Please don’t tell me this isn’t the only dress shirt you have!’

‘Well, can I wear my black one?’ he innocently asked, gobbling up the last piece into his mouth. Bucky looked at your form, and stepped back as he saw you vibrating with anger.

It was your turn to stare at Bucky Barnes. This man was supposed to be all ready to go for his campaign night. Instead, you were looking at the feared ex-assassin stuffing his cheeks like a chipmunk in his apartment complex. If it wasn’t for the given circumstance, you would’ve laughed and snuck a photo of him.

You let out a loud groan in response, and dialed for a cleaner to expedite an urgent laundry order. Once you finished with the call, Bucky made his way towards you, and stuck out the notebook you made for him.

‘This speech is too long.’ he declared.

‘You had a week to learn it James. Not my fault you were procrastinating.’ Tilting your body to the side, you eyed the area where his vibranium arm should be. ‘Also, where is your arm?’

Bucky nervously pursed his lips shut as your eyes squinted at him. Thinking about where he could’ve placed it, your eyes wandered to the dishwasher behind, seeing it was running a cycle. Putting two and two together in your head, your eyes slowly glanced back at the man in front of you.

‘James-’

‘Listen sweetheart’ he started. His fleshed hand nervously rubbed against the back of his neck.

‘James Buchanan Barnes, did you put your fucking Wakandan-made vibranium arm in your dishwasher?!’ you sputtered in disbelief. 

‘Hear me out! I couldn’t put it in the washing machine, it would tumble around and break it! The dishwasher cleans it very well!’

‘So you casually put Wakandan tech that’s probably millions of dollars in a machine that’s meant for washing dishes?’ A growing headache was creeping up. Good thing you brought Tylenol.

‘I got it for free.’ he mumbled. 

Scoffing in disbelief, you raised your arms in frustration and stomped towards the front door. ‘Whatever! It feels like I’m arguing with a child. You’re a grown man for Pete’s sake!’

‘Technically, I’m 110 years old-’

‘Right. You’re the perfect age to be running for congress.’ you snarked back. It was Bucky's turn to stare at you incredulously. 

The man huffed with exhaustion. You had enough, you were going to leave him be and wait for him in the car. But before you could turn the doorknob, he spoke up. ‘Sweetheart, listen! I’m nervous as hell for tonight. Everything that I worked for, everything you worked for is happening right now, and I don’t want to fuck this up.’ 

Upon hearing his confession, your hand paused midway from grabbing the knob. A deep sigh left your lips while you looked down, before facing him once more. The worried expression in his beautiful bright blue eyes was enough for you to cave in.

Sighing once more, you gently smiled at him. ‘Oh, Bucky. What would you do without me?’ you breathed, walking towards him.

A breathy chuckle came out of his lips as you made your way in front of him. Gently fingers combed his greasy hair, and he glanced down at you, looking at you with unspoken endearment. ‘Not much, I’m afraid. You’re basically the glue holding me together.’

A mischievous glint shone in your irises. ‘I hope you’re not referring to me as your mother figure James.’

Bucky raised his eyebrows. Lowering his head towards your ear, he lightly blew air, causing you to shiver. ‘Oh sweetheart, you’re much much much more than a caretaker for me.’

His words caused a squeezing sensation in your abdomen. Refusing to fall for his lacy words as you had to keep a professional boundary between the two of you (which was blurring by the second), your palms gently pushed him off.

You had to draw the line between you and your boss. ‘Save your sultry words for the event tonight Barnes. Pretty sure there’s some beautiful women who’s willing to throw themselves at you.’ 

Bucky paused, and you saw a storm of emotions brewing in his expressive eyes before he answered. ‘I don’t need that-’ he started, before he cut you off.

‘Tick tock, Barnes! We have to get going here, you’re lucky that the laundromat is willing to do an express order for you!’ you blurted out, trying to extinguish the awkward atmosphere. ‘I’ll head there right now. In the meantime, get dressed, fix your hair, and for God’s sake James, get your fucking arm out of the dishwasher.’

Bucky licked his lips and huffed out of frustration. Shoving his hand in his pocket, he obeyed your command and silently cleaned up the kitchen area. He threw a knowing look towards you, as he watched your figure promptly leave his flat. 

The super soldier made a mental note that tonight was the night he was going to finally make a move, if he won the election.

On the other side of the door, your sweaty palm clenched the fabric of your dress that was covering your chest. Too close, it was too close. You wanted to keep this job, to keep being close to your friend and crush without compromising the ethicality of it. It hurt, but with the given situation, it was the best you could do. You were content with being with him, even if you were just the personal assistant-pr manager-and glorified babysitter of Bucky Barnes.

Shaking your head out of your thoughts, you slapped both your cheeks together, then made your way towards the elevator at the end of the hall.

You deserved a smooth glass of Bourbon tonight.

He won.

He actually won. A little part of you didn’t believe it, but Bucky won a seat at the congress. The former Winter Soldier who probably assassinated a dozen American politicians and presidents, was now a politician himself. Now that you thought about it, it was ironic, but nevertheless the way American politics worked.

You were also sure that Gen Z voters were solely responsible for his win. After all, no one could resist a handsome and buff super soldier running for congress. It was like offering the best piece of candy to a child.

But now that your task was complete, you weren’t sure whether you would continue your job as his personal assistant and PR manager. With all things considered, you were the perfect person for the job. You knew his routine and schedule with the back of his hand. Sure, there were moments that caused you to rip your hair out from stress, but in the end, you genuinely enjoyed being by Bucky’s side.

With your cheek on your palm as it rested on the window of the car, you zoned out as your eyes followed the streetlights. You were so deep in thought that you failed to notice that Bucky was grazing his real hand over yours, which was resting on the leather seat. He glanced at you, with eyes wavering with concern.

‘You alright sweetheart?’ Bucky murmured, gently caressing your hand.

‘Hn? Yeah, just tired.’ you answered listlessly, still not noticing his touch.

The rest of the car ride back to his apartment complex was silent. Once the two of you made it inside, Bucky carefully closed the front door shut as you shrugged off your coat and plopped yourself on his couch. You stretched your neck back and looked up to the ceiling and sighed with exhaustion.

The super soldier let out a chuckle at this sight of you. He had never seen you this exhausted, and honestly found it cute.

‘Long day?’ he quipped, sitting beside you.

You felt the couch dip to your left. ‘Tell me about it.’ you sighed.

Blinking your eyes open, you turned your head to face your boss. Gazing softly into his eyes, you smiled. ‘Congratulation on your win Bucky. You deserved it.’

Bucky’s eyes crinkled with a smile. ‘It was all thanks to you sweetheart. Couldn’t have done it without you.’

The two of you laughed, then sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company.

You looked down at your lap and nervously rubbed your fingers. Pursing your lips, you gained the courage to let him know that you wanted to continue your work as his assistant. 

While you were lost in your head trying to figure out the words, Bucky was in his own personal debate. It was either tonight or never. He had to let you know how he felt.

After a lingering silence, you spoke up first.

‘James, I want-’

‘You’re fired.’ he said bluntly. 

The words faded from your lips, slowly reeling in the words he had said. Your eyes widened in shock, with the corner of your eyes prickling with tears.

‘Fired?’ you echoed back. ‘You’re firing me?’

Your worst fear came true. He didn’t want you anymore. You trembled with anxiety, taking in the sinking feeling that you weren’t needed anymore.

Realizing that his words were coming out wrong, Bucky tried to explain himself. ‘Wait! Sweetheart let me explain-!’

Rage filled your being as the usually endearing nickname rolled off his tongue. ‘You have the balls to call me sweetheart when you’re firing me?! After all I have done for you Barnes! The sleepless nights, the anxiety I endured for your stupid campaign! You’re just going to throw me aside now that you’ve won?! I can’t believe-’ you exploded as you got up from the couch and started pacing around the living room.

Bucky growled your name in frustration, causing your rambling to stop. Walking up to you, he placed a firm hold on your shoulders as he directed you to come face to face. His pupils wavered as you bore his eyes straight into yours, with tears starting to prick in the bottom of his eyelids.

‘I’m firing you because I’m in love with you.’ Bucky quietly professed.

A tidal wave of emotions washed over you upon hearing his words. The angry expression that you wore immediately melted into confusion, mixed with hope.

‘You’re firing me because you’re in love with me?’ you slowly drawled.

An exasperated airless chuckle left his lungs. ‘I know how stupid it sounds. God, sweetheart, you make me so stupid with love.’ A gently warm hand cupped your cheek carefully.

Bucky’s eyes stared into yours with a longing expression. ‘This past year, all you’ve done is take care of me. You fixed my fuck ups. Made sure I was well rested and prepared. I would be lying if I said I would’ve gone through this gruelling campaign without you. Because my love, you held me together, even when I wanted to fall apart.’

Your lips slowly parted, with your eyes glossy with tears. ‘Bucky-’ you muttered, before he cut you off.

Bucky rested his forehead into yours as he shut his eyes. You could feel his hot breath nervously wavering as he continued his confession. ‘Sweetheart, you took care of me this whole time, even when I didn’t deserve it. Now it’s my turn to take care of you, and the only way to do that is to fire you.’

His eyes opened once more, revealing his sky blue eyes that were now glossy. When you didn’t answer him back, he heaved a heavy sigh, his pupils wavering even more as he tried to look for your answer in your eyes.. ‘Please say something.’ he begged.

Finally convinced that you weren’t daydreaming, you gave Bucky an answer.

Leaning your head close to his, your lips gently grazed over his plush ones, sweetly pressing your lips on him. He slowly returned your kiss, lips parting slightly to capture his over your bottom lip. Your hands wandered to his blazer, grabbing the collar as you brought him close to your body. His vibranium arm cradled the back of your head, inhaling deeply as you parted your own lips to kiss him once more. 

Bucky tilted his head and partially opened his lips, urging you to open your mouth as he poked his tongue through, licking your teeth in the process. A low moan escaped his throat as he messily massaged his tongue against yours.

Maybe you did deserve this after dealing with his bullshit for a year.

However, while the two of you were busy inhaling one another, his pressing weight was causing you to lose your balance. Once you realized however, it was too late. You and Bucky broke the kiss as you tumbled onto the carpeted floor, with him falling on top of you.

‘Woah!’ you yelped, expecting your head to hit the ground. Your eyes squeezed shut, expecting an impact, but was met with Bucky’s warm hand cradling the back of your head, absorbing the fall.

He may have cushioned your fall, but his body landed on yours, knocking the wind from your lung in the process. Bucky’s chest rumbled with laughter as you squeaked in discomfort. ‘You’re heavy, James.’

‘Sorry.’ he hummed amusingly. The super soldier brought himself off of you, lifting his body inches away from yours as his elbows rested on your sides.

If you told your past self that a year from now, that your boss confessed to you the night he won his election campaign, they would’ve slapped you silly, telling you that you’re delusional. But here you were, gazing into his eyes lovingly while he stroked your head endearingly. 

‘So.’ you started.

‘So.’ he mimed back.

‘Now that I’m unemployed thanks to you, you’re going to help me find a new job.’

Bucky pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. ‘Already done and taken care of.’

Your eyebrow shot up. ‘What did you do now, James?’

A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. ‘I cashed in a favour from Sam. You’re going to be his PR manager now.’

Your face twisted into frustration. ‘Oh god. Working for him might be slightly worse than working for you.’

‘Excuse me!’ he scoffed out of offence. ‘Working with me is a pleasure!’

You sniffed in sarcasm as you pushed him off to sit up. Bucky took it as an opportunity to tackle you into the floor once more.

‘Bucky stop it!’ you shrieked as he poked his fingers to your sides.

‘Nope.’ he said, popping the ‘P’ on his tongue.

The super soldier found himself facing you once more, and peppered your face with kisses. His stubbled beard tickled you.

‘You know Bucky, there were several times where I wanted to quit working for you because you were unbearable.’ you joked as he continued to smother you.

‘Well,’ he started between kisses. ‘Now that I fired you and promoted you to my partner, you’re stuck with me. I’ll be taking care of you now.’

A bright smile appeared on your lips. Bucky took notice and mirrored the same smile as he dipped down to kiss your lips once more.

What was thought to be the most stressful night of your life ended up with you sprawled out on the floor with your ex-boss-turned boyfriend. 

Not that you could complain. For once in your life you were glad that you got fired from your job. The average working person would never say that.

But then again, your boss was far from average. He was an unbearable and incredibly sassy 110 year old super soldier turned politician who consistently pushed your buttons when it came to setting him straight for the sake of his political career.

With all things considered, it was no wonder that you fell in love with him. And you couldn't have had it any other way.

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧

Pairing-Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary-Bucky refuses to let himself get close to you, constantly keeping his distance. But one night, after a nightmare, he finds himself knocking on your door, seeking comfort in the last place he ever expected

Tags-comfort,soft bucky,nightmares,fear,happy ending,emotional support,a tad bit angst

Word count-1.3k

Bucky is a man of few words and even fewer connections. He's been through too much, seen too much, to ever fully open up to anyone. He keeps everyone at arm's length, too afraid to get close and risk the pain of loss or rejection.

You though? Your different. For some reason, Bucky finds it hard to push you away. You're the only person who's been able to break through the walls he's built around himself. Maybe it's your strength, your quiet patience, or the way you've never forced him to talk about his past.

The recent shower had left you feeling relaxed, your skin warm and soft as you stepped out. The air in your room was cool, but the gentle, golden light from your bedside lamp made the space feel cozy and inviting.

You slipped into your white lace set delicate and simple, the fabric clinging softly to your skin. The matching tank top and underwear hugged you in all the right ways, the lace a faint whisper against your body.

As you moved toward your bed, the faint scent of vanilla clung to your skin, mixing with the lingering steam from the shower.

It was subtle, one of your favorite things. You sat down on the edge of the bed and opened the book that you had been reading earlier.

The room felt warm, peaceful, the soft glow from the lamp casting shadows against the walls as you settled in, the pages of your book rustling quietly as you began to read.

The words on the page blurred after a while, your eyelids growing heavy with the comfort of the stillness surrounding you. 

ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ

3am

Somewhere around the middle of the night a faint knock at the door pierced through the stillness. It was a sound so out of place in that came of the night, and it startled you awake, your body jerking slightly as you blinked, groggy and confused.

For a moment, your mind was too foggy to register the source of the noise. You groaned softly, irritated at being woken up so suddenly.

Still, the knock came again, louder this time, urgent. You threw the covers off in a hurry, the cool air of the room hitting your warm skin as you stumbled out of bed.

You quickly crossed the room, your feet barely making a sound against the floor. You were ready to snap at whoever had the audacity to disturb your peaceful sleep, but as you opened the door, your words faltered.

Standing in front of you was Bucky. His usually composed face was anything but. His eyes were red rimmed, glistening with tears, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

His hands were trembling at his sides, and his entire body seemed to be coiled with tension, as if he were holding himself together by sheer force of will.

It was the last thing you expected, and your irritation melted into concern as you took in the sight of him.

"Bucky?" You whispered, your voice thick with sleep and confusion. "What—" He immediately cut off your questions with a cracked voice, "I need—" His voice cracked, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words, like he was fighting something deep inside.

He wiped at his face, trying to steady himself, but his hands trembled. "I need you," he finally whispered, his voice shaky with a mix of exhaustion and something deeper, more raw.

Your heart tightened at the sight of him, this was not the Bucky you were used to. The stoic, guarded man who always kept his distance this was someone else entirely.

Without thinking, you moved closer to him, your arms wrapping around his trembling form in a tight hug. Bucky flinched at first, but then he melted into your embrace, his body shaking violently.

His sobs were muffled against your shoulder, the sound raw and desperate, like a dam that had finally broken.

You held him for a few moments longer, your heart breaking for the pain he was in, before gently pulling him away, your hand still on his back. "Come on," you murmured softly, leading him toward your bed.

You didn't know what else to do, but you couldn't stand seeing him in this state, vulnerable and hurting. Bucky followed you wordlessly, his feet dragging as if he were already exhausted. Without hesitation, he lowered himself onto your bed, curling up in a position that felt familiar to him.

His head resting gently between your thighs, his body still trembling. It was as if, in this moment, it was the only place he could find solace.

Your heart pounded a bit, your fingers running through his dark damp hair, the coolness of the room in stark contrast to the heat from his skin. His breathing was shallow at first, but as you continued to soothe him, the tension in his body slowly began to fade.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked quietly, your voice soft but steady, careful not to push him. Bucky's response was a small, barely perceptible nod, his face pressed against your thighs, his eyes closed.

"Okay," you said gently, your fingers still weaving through his hair. "And if it gets too much, you can stop. You don't have to do this if you're not ready."

Bucky shifted slightly, his hand coming up to grip the fabric of your blanket as he tried to find his words. After a moment, he spoke, his voice quiet and hoarse, the weight of his nightmare still lingering in his tone.

"I was back in that place," he started, his voice shaking as he spoke. "Hydra. They were all around me, the experiments, the people they hurt, And I couldn't stop it. I was just—just standing there, watching them hurt people, and I couldn't move. I couldn't save them."

His breath hitched. "And then... and then I saw you. But I couldn't reach you, you were so far away, and I couldn't protect you." He paused, the memory still haunting him. His grip on the blanket tightened, his breathing quickening again.

"It felt so real," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Like I was back there again, and I couldn't do anything."

Your heart ached for him as you gently rubbed his back, trying to offer him the comfort he so desperately needed. "You're safe now, Bucky," you whispered.

"None of that is real anymore. You're with me, and I won't let anything happen to you. I promise." Bucky didn't respond, but his grip on the blanket loosened just a bit, his body relaxing slightly against you.

You continued to play with his hair, giving him the space to process, the quiet room around you both offering a sense of calm.

Without warning, you felt a soft, warm kiss on the inside of your thigh. It was gentle, almost like a sigh, as if Bucky were trying to express gratitude in the only way he could.

His lips lingered there for a moment, a delicate, tender touch that sent a shiver through you not from any discomfort, but from the quiet intimacy of it all.

Bucky pulled away slightly, sitting up just enough to look at you. His eyes drifted over your form, catching the soft glow of the lamp reflecting off your matching white lace tank top and underwear. A small, breathy chuckle escaped him as he gazed at you.

"This is what you wear to bed?" he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. The sound of his amusement made your stomach twist, and suddenly, you became hyper aware of the way you were dressed.

You crossed your arms over your chest instinctively, a rush of self consciousness flooding through you.

"Are you laughing at me?" you asked, a tinge of insecurity creeping into your voice. Bucky immediately noticed the shift in your mood. He shifted closer to you, his eyes softening.

"No, y/n, I'm not laughing at you." His voice was sincere, his smile turning into something warmer. "You look beautiful."

Kiss and Make Up

18+, minors dni

Graphic smut ahead

the aftermath of a fight between you and Bucky ;)

i'm thinking of doing a few final fantasy and red dead redemption 2 one shots as well :) lmk what you think!

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The bed was cold.

You rolled over onto your side, thick comforter pulled up to your chin as you curled up. The clock read 1:18am and you sighed. There was a small picture frame by the clock with a photo of you and Bucky from when you first moved in, smiling at each other with his arms around your waist as your palms rested on his chest.

Neither of you remembered what the argument was really about.

Bucky had come home earlier that evening after a meeting with Sam and Joaquin about a mission they had been gathering intel on and he was stressed.

You had tried to get him to talk about it but he had refused, snapping a "Just drop it" at you.

One thing led to another and one shouting match later, he was in the living room sleeping on the couch while you were alone in your king sized bed, eyes wide open, just wishing he was there to keep you warm.

Another 15 minutes passed before you couldn't take it anymore and you stood, blanket wrapped around you shoulders, and padded your way from the bedroom out to the living room where you could see Bucky laying on the couch staring up at the ceiling.

"Bucky," you called softly, slowly making your way to him.

His head turned, eyes becoming soft and a bit sorrowful at the sight of you. He let out a breath before he opened his arms to you with a quit "Come here, angel."

Your lip quivered a bit as you made your way to him, leaning down to lay on top of him with your legs tangling and your chin propping onto his chest.

"I couldn't sleep. I don't like laying in there without you," you told him, fingers clutching into his t-shirt as you shifted.

All you wore was one of his black t-shirts with a pair of dark blue panties, and you felt his warmth seep through to you as you both gazed in each other's eyes.

He let out a sigh, one arm coming to rest on the dip of your spine, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin while the other came up to brush your hair back from your eyes.

"I don't like it either. I'm sorry for snapping at you, baby. It was a tough day and I took it out on you instead of speaking to you," he said, voice soft.

You leaned your head to rest in his palm, giving him a soft smile.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too for not respecting that you weren't ready to talk. I shouldn't have pushed it," you told him.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft peck once, twice, a third time.

On the third kiss, your lips stayed locked and you could taste the minty freshness of his toothpaste.

You sat up a bit to reach him better, sliding your legs to straddle his boxer covered hips while his hands slid to your waist.

A shudder ran through you at the coldness of his metal hand, the movement causing you to shift a bit on top of him.

Bucky's tongue slowly ran across your bottom lip and you quickly granted him access with a whimper as your tongues tangled together.

It was instinct that led you to slowly begin rolling your hips against his and he let out a grunt, hips jolting as he began to harden.

You pulled away for a moment to look at him with a small smile, "Take me to our bed, Bucky."

He didn't hesitate in giving you a grin with a "Yes, ma'am" before throwing the blanket covering you both to the floor as he stood with your arms and legs locked around him.

He made his way down the hall like a man on a mission. Once in your room, he threw you on the bed causing you to land with a squeal and a bounce, laughing as he pulled his t-shirt over his head from behind.

You went to do the same but he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

"Leave it, doll," he said a bit breathlessly as his eyes roamed over you. "I wanna fuck you in my shirt. Just push it up enough to show me those pretty tits"

You flushed but obeyed, laying back and pushing the shirt up to above your breasts as you gazed up at him.

Bucky loved your body, especially your breasts, and never wasted any time in worshipping them.

Now, for example, he was slowly making his way up the bed towards you like a predator after his prey.

His hands came to rest on your knees where they were bent and he spread them apart, opening your thighs to him as he continued to make his way upwards.

Soon he was eye level with your chest and he didn't waste a moment before leaning in to suck a pert nipple into his mouth, his blue eyes locked onto you.

"Oh.." you gasped, thighs clenching around his hips as one of your hands came to fist in his hair. He knew how sensitive your nipples were and he never passed up a chance to get you squirming.

He gave you a sneaky grin around it before nipping at it with his teeth.

The jolt of pleasure it brought ran from your reddened nipple down to the apex of your thighs and your clit throbbed.

He continued the torture until your breasts were red and sensitive with a large love bite on your sternum between them.

You were slowly working your hips, trying to grind with his as much as possible. Your panties were soaking wet and all you wanted was for him to touch you.

"Bucky," you whined, and reached to grab where his hand was resting on your thigh,"Please."

You guided the hand upward to the damp fabric and saw as his eyes darkened at the feeling.

His hand moved to cup you fully and he ground his palm against you, your jaw dropping open.

"You're such a good fuckin girl" He growled, hand speeding up with the grinding until you couldn't take it.

You were on the edge, shaking like a crazy until Bucky suddenly paused.

Your breaths were heavy as you came down, giving him a frustrated look as your ruined orgasm.

He laughed before saying "Patience," and sat up, hands coming to the waistband of your panties.

With a jerk of his metal hand and a squeak from you, the fabric ripped away and all you could see was a flash of blue as he threw them over his shoulder.

You were ready to berate him but you were stopped when he dived in, lips wrapping around your clit to give a harsh suck as a finger came to your entrance to tease.

"Ohmygod," you whimpered, head leaning back as you arched you spine.

Bucky was good at most things he did whether it be fighting, training or really anything else.

But he was a god at eating pussy.

He feasted on you like you were a glass of water and he was a parched man in the desert.

His finger toyed at the rim of your entrance before sinking in, immediately on the search for that one spot within you that got you every time.

You let out a yelp when he found it, rubbing against it with his finger tip causing you to quiver.

"Please, please, please, baby," you begged, tears in your eyes as he continued his torture.

You could feel the orgasm building again and this time he let you have it, his head bobbing as he sucked at your hard clit.

A yell left you as you came and you clamped down on his finger that was still thrusting into you.

You were still shaking with the aftershocks of it when he gave you one last lick and pulled away.

He grinned down at you, his hair in his eyes and his lips and chin wet.

His hand came from between your thighs to show you the wetness that covered it and he used the other one to work his boxers down, kicking them to the side.

He grasped his hard cock with his wet hand, using your cum to lubricate himself and holy fuck was it hot.

"Bucky, c'mon," you whined as he scrambled into place, his dick coming to rest between the lips of your pussy.

"What is it, doll?" he asked teasingly as he began to grind the head of his dick against you, letting it slide against your oversensitive clit. Your hips jolted with every brush, "What do you need?"

You continued to squirm underneath him and glared up at him.

"I need you to fuck me." you said firmly, causing him to laugh at your neediness.

"Your wish is my command," he said before notching himself at your entrance.

You both let out a breath of relief as he slid inside, bare skin to bare skin.

As his hips began to move your hands came under his arms to rest on his back and he let out a groan as your nails dug into the skin on his back, raking red lines down the length of it.

"You feel so fuckin good. I could live in you forever," Bucky ground our, one hand holding himself up while the other grasped at the headboard.

You were letting out soft gasps with each thrust he gave you and you knew your hips would be sore from taking the impact of how hard he was taking you, but you loved it. You loved when you would bruise and he would spend time after trailing kisses over the skin.

His pelvis was slapping your clit with each thrust and before long you felt the heat rise in you again, your body beginning to quiver as your orgasm rose.

"Bucky, I'm close baby, please," you told him with a strained voice, grabbing for his hand that was holding the headboard and bringing it between you, "Please touch me."

Now that the headboard was no longer being held you could heard the wood of it smacking the wall and you only hoped that his super soldier strength wouldn't cause it to damage the walls again.

It's happened before.

He brought his fingers to your lips for you to suck on before trailing them down to your hard bud, rubbing circles into it roughly and causing you to cry out.

Your pussy tightened around him as your orgasm overtook you, your spine arching and your nails digging into his shoulders.

He let out a groan at the feeling of you tightening around him, his balls drawing up, and before long he too released.

You hummed in contentedness as you felt him spurt within you, warmth filling you.

He slid out once he was soft, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips before moving to lay beside you.

You moved to lay on his chest, his arms around you as you traced at the lines of his abs.

"I hate fighting with you, angel. But if this is the result, we may have to more often," he joked, causing you to laugh.

Before long, the both of you were asleep in each other's arms, legs entwined once more where you belonged.

The Slip Up. Chapter 6.

Series Summary: After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things finally seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Single mom) Reader

Warnings: Language, adulting, mentions of sexual past.

Chapter 6:

Keep reading

Lost for words

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (established relationship)

Summary: Bucky can't keep his hands to himself while your on a call with Yelena, wanting all your attention, making you lose your focus.

Based off this prompt from Pinterest

Word count: 3.1k+ (I kinda got too into it lol)

Warnings and tags: Clingy Bucky, he's a menace, Yelena mentioned (bestfriend), neck kisses, more kisses, Bucky is basically touch starved, cute relationship dynamics, Bucky can't keep his hands off of you.

A/n: this is my little treat for my 100 followers milestone. Thank you guys!! Enjoy the fic!!

Love you guys <3

Ps. Go read chapter 1 of my new series Business Proposal ♡

Also requests are open.. feel free to send 'em.!!

Beauty And The Beast - Chapter 6 - Loki Odinson X Female Reader

Title: The West Wing

Loki Odinson X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Natasha, Clint, Mrs. Potts, and Alpine (Mentioned)

Beauty And The Beast Retelling Fanfic

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5 | You Are Here | Chap 7 | Chap 8 | Chap 9 | Chap 10 | Chap 11 | Chap 12 | Chap 13 | Chap 14 | Chap 15 | Chap 16 END |

WC: 1,280

Warnings: Imprisonment, rude Loki, italics, banter, nicknames, yelling, wolves, fighting, mentions of injuries, slight angst, and fluff?

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her expression clearly displaying worry as she crossed her arms. “If his Highness finds out you violated his orders and fed her, he will blame me!” Her voice was sharp, exasperation dripping from every word.

Clint, leaning against the doorway, gave her a playful smirk. “Yes, I will make sure of it,” He responded cockily, almost as if daring her to fight back.

“Oh, I’m planning my sweet, sweet revenge,” Natasha muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips before she focused back on the conversation. “But did you see her stand up to him?” Natasha added, her voice dropping to a whisper, and ensuring you were far enough behind to not overhear.

The Slip Up. Chapter 5.

Series Summary: After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things finally seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Single mom) Reader

Word Count: 4600+

Warnings: Language, adulting, mentions of sexual past.

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out, but I wanted to get it right considering the turn we just took! Hope you enjoy, and hope all the emotions I wanted to get across come out well:) Let me know what you think!!

Chapter 5:

Keep reading

The Slip Up. Chapter 4.

Series Summary: After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things finally seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Single mom) Reader

Word Count: 4600+

Warnings: Language, adulting, mentions of sexual past.

A/N: SOOOO I got a little carried away with this one and hit a lot of little details at once. I honestly didn’t plan on ending this chapter how I did, but if I didn’t, this chapter alone would be like 10,000 words haha!! ANYWAY, enjoy and let me know what you think!!! (also this is the last FULL chapter I have written, but I am working on chapter five as we speak! So bare with me as my brain comes up with ideas…)

Chapter 4:

Keep reading

The Slip Up. Chapter 3.

Series Summary: After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things finally seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Single mom) Reader

Word Count: 1600+ (The next chapter will make up for it I promise!)

Warnings: Language, adulting, mentions of sexual past.

Chapter 3:

Keep reading