Becca Writes - Tumblr Posts
Desperate Measure (one-shot)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Words: 1880 Warnings: Nsfw, smut, 18+ Summary: On the run, cornered in a closet—how the hell is Bucky supposed to keep from getting caught? A/N: Day 8 of @itsbuckysworld’s hello spring writing challenge :3 Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think xoxo
“Shit shit shit fuck shit!”
“Barnes, can you keep it clean for one minute? We’ve got Parker on the line here!”
“It’s okay, Mr. Stark, I’ve heard worse.”
Bucky growls and slaps his ear, silencing Tony’s reply. Do they really think he’s got time to listen to their awkward back-and-forth while he’s got a squad of goons up his ass?
The sidewalks are busy tonight. He turns a corner and almost bumps into a dopey couple, a clump of frat boys, a lonely woman tapping her foot as she holds her phone to her ear, all in rapid succession. He chances a glance back—no goons in sight. Not yet.
Bucky ducks into the closest open door, fumbling in his pocket for his wallet, his ID, as the bouncer waits with a bored stare.
“Here,” Bucky blurts.
“Great, have fun.”
Bucky ducks inside, assaulted by the uncomfortably loud blues band playing. A trombone, in a bar this size?
Yikes.
Keep reading
caduto dalle nuvole (one-shot)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Words: 5012 Summary: A detour on a mission leads to destruction, and a discovery. Warnings: Canon-typical violence and gore. A/N: Happy Secret Seba, Paige @sebastiansloserclub!!!! It was a pleasure to write for you! Thank you to @jobean12-blog for beta reading <3 The title, “caduto dalle nuvole,” is an Italian idiom that means literally “fallen from the clouds” and figuratively “taken aback.” Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy xoxo
Steve raises an eyebrow. “Any questions?”
You close the mission briefing and tuck the file under your arm as you stand, just barely controlling the tic in your jaw. “None, Captain.”
“Good.” His relief is palpable. “The jet leaves in ninety minutes. Good luck, agent.”
—
“I’ll be back,” Antonio says, and then he slams the barn door shut.
You gape. A key scrapes against a lock. Your heart stops for a horrible moment, and then you bolt forward.
“Hey!”
You slam into the door, body and door shaking from the impact. A chain rattles on the other side, and a car engine starts to purr.
“Hey!” you scream.
The car drives off, grinding against the gravel drive. You bang your fists against the door, rage clouding your vision, filling your veins.
Behind you, your partner lets out a breath and a thump. You turn, blinking away the red in your vision, and stare.
Bucky Barnes is sitting on a pile of hay, hands clasped between his spread thighs and his expression sardonic.
“Well,” he says. “That went well.”
Keep reading