Compromised Positions

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> You and Bucky find yourself in one too many compromised positions, not that he's complaining.

Disclaimer: Steamy moments with a slight hint of smut towards the end, swearing, multiple undercover kisses, he fell first, she fell second, he fell harder. Mentions of domestic disputes, criminal neighbours. Bucky ties Reader's heels, shirtless Bucky, him in joggers, a lot of physical touching (innocent...at first). Gala kiss, undercover as a married couple, Bucky admires Reader's nails. Not Proof Read.

“Guys, you’ve got like, two minutes until they’re gonna notice you’re gone.”

“Relax, little Falcon, we’ll be out in time.”

You heard Joaquin sigh over comms. “That nickname,” he groaned. “I’m the Falcon, now.”

Bucky smirked. “Whatever you say, Big Bird.”

You all heard Sam chuckle as a groaning whine left Joaquin. “Not you, too.”

You nudged Bucky’s arm and pointed at the room. “In here.”

He closed the door behind you both before he joined you in the search for physical evidence. Pictures were taken on his phone whilst you looked for the file.

“Jesus, have they never heard of organisation? What the hell is this?”

Bucky just looked at you. “Seriously? The chaotic organiser is judging their organisation skills.”

“At least I know where everything is.”

It was another thirty seconds before your anxiety kicked in. You considered it to be the same kind of anxiety mother’s got before their kids threw up in the middle of the night. And Joaquin’s voice confirmed your suspicion.

“Guys, they’re back early.”

Bucky looked around the room. There was one exit and that would mean running right into them. “We can’t-”

“I’ve got a plan.”

Instantly, you grabbed Bucky by his henley and threw him over to the sofa as you removed your own jacket. The room wasn’t exactly an office – it was more of an overflow of actual office stuff. A storage closet.

There was a chance your plan would work better than you both being compromised.

“What the hell are you-”

You held Bucky down by his shoulders. “Just shut up.”

The footsteps out in the corridor were getting louder. They were getting closer. So, strandling Bucky’s thighs, your knees digging into the worn sofa in the middle of the room, you kissed him just as the door unlocked.

Considering you and Bucky had gotten through the building door pretending to be members of the society, it wouldn’t seem odd that two new-ish members were in a room they had been told about.

Your hips shifted as Bucky’s legs moved, his hands putting just the right amount of pressure on your back to make the whole thing look believable.

There were strangled noises from behind you both which quickly disappeared with a soft click of the door, whispered awkward voices and then quick footsteps leaving down the other end of the hall.

It took Bucky a moment to get his breath back.

“Good…good thinking.”

You smiled. “Thanks. Now let’s go, before they come back.”

Neither of you mentioned how you managed to avoid a confrontation with top members of the group. You didn’t talk about it either. It was a kiss that saved you both from a compromised position, nothing more.

Until it happened again.

Three months later, you were on a – meant to be – solo mission.

An undercover identity built through a long career at Shield meant you still maintained the yearly invite to a rather pretentious gala on the Italian Coast. And, since words had been brewing around another multi-million dollar deal over a key to a vault that protected certain secrets of yours, meant you had to go.

However, somewhere between the extra security, extra guests and a faulty switch, you’d almost gotten caught.

Almost.

The third round of security was about to turn down the hall to the faulty security alert just as a hand came to the small of your back. You were about to say something until you recognised the face it belonged to.

“Bucky?”

“Just trust me.”

That was all he said before you found yourself pressed against the prestinely polished wooden door frame a few feet away. His steady right hand lay on your cheek, tilting your face to his whilst his left softly skated down the length of your body, over the dip in your hip and to the top of the slit on your dress.

Your breath was taken away as his lips were pressed against yours, his tongue being granted permission to taste you properly.

Somewhere behind the thrumming in your ears, the two security officials joked quietly in Italian before flicking the warning light off and moving on down the hall.

When you finally caught your breath, you asked, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You’re welcome,” was what he replied.

“Bucky-” you warned.

“Sam called me. Joaquin ran those checks you asked for and I was in the area.” He said it as if it was nothing. Like turning up, not only technically saving your ass but kissing you like that was nothing more than an average Tuesday.

That night you swore to yourself that it would only be a second one time thing. But apparently that was just another lie.

A few months later, you had been put onto a mission. You were monitoring the supposed harmless janitor of the building. ‘Supposed’ as there had been warning’s flagged over his involvement with an elite terrorist group that had been targeting undercover Shield agents.

And, despite knowing you were safe enough, Sam had provided you with a ‘boyfriend’ cover.

And that boyfriend just so happened to be Bucky.

He came to your apartment every few days. Stayed at least two nights a week. And helped you do laundry…

Even when you were both fighting.

“I don’t need someone watching my every move, James. I’ve been in this job a lot longer on my own. Besides, it’s not like I’ve never not done it before.”

You were sitting on top of the empty washing machine as your bedding was spinning around in the dryer. Bucky was folding the second piles of clothing considering they were his that he’d left overnight.

“What if something had happened? What if you’d gotten caught?”

“I nearly did,” you told him. “When you came charging inside like some fucking-”

There were slow and heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. Without saying anything, Bucky reached out for you as you pulled him to stand between your legs.

He leaned forward, his hands pulling you in by your hips as your hands pushed through his hair. Your mouth opened almost instinctively as his tongue swiped forward. A quiet groan left him and his fingertips gripped a little harder onto the soft skin exposed at your hips, before the door opened up.

Sam rushed inside. “It’s just me.”

You and Bucky moved away from each other quicker than you’d come together. Bucky moved back to the laundry pile and wiped his lip as he thought about something other than the feeling of your legs hooking around his own and holding him in place.

You wiped your own mouth, trying to hide the slight embarrassment as Sam stopped, realising what he, sort of, walked into.

But there wasn’t time to question it.

“Can you break your window?”

You looked at Sam confused. “What?”

“I need you to break a window in your apartment and call the janitor up. Joaquin is gonna come to ‘fix’ it. Eventually, he’s gonna have to sign papers in the office and we’ll be able to tag his desk top. It’s so old, Torres can’t hack it.”

“Jesus, really?” You hopped off the washing machine, ignoring the dull ache in your underwear.

Sam nodded. “This dude is working with something from, like, the 90s.”

“For the amount that they charge for rent?”

Sam nodded.

Three hours, two struggling-attempts at a fitted sheet that decided for today to be the day it didn’t want to comply and one shattered window pane later; Joaquin had tagged the computer and you had a fresh window installed.

Apparently, that mission was the catalyst for the next undercover assignment you received. Or rather, the undercover assignment both you and Bucky received.

A new-ish wedding couple that have been house hunting for six months and had finally found the perfect one to try and start a family in. It just so happened to be across the street from a few different couples you would be quietly surveilling.

Some for money laundering for elite underground teams that missed the idea of outfits such as ‘Hydra’ existing, some for potential involvement in weaponry sales overseas and some for recruitment to both groups.

The other neighbours, however, were completely normal.

Which seemed to be harder to deal with than the potential criminals living across the road.

Considering you and Bucky had already made out more than once before, physical affection seemed to come a little easier than you had thought. It was still a little awkward, but overall, not as bad as it could have been.

A week after moving everything in, you and Bucky agreeing to separate bedrooms, you’d gotten an alert one morning from the security camera doorbell.

Someone was coming up the path.

And you and Bucky were right in the way of the door.

Still in your pajamas, bickering over which neighbour to start with, Bucky stepped forward and held onto your hips. He lifted you before your legs wrapped around him and you kissed him as if your life depended on it.

Between each kiss came laughter to mask both the awkwardness and the fact none of it was real. It was all an act. It’s all it could be.

The doorbell rang, then someone knocked on the window beside the frame of the door. You and Bucky pretended like you’d just been caught in the act.

Your body practically slid down his as he let you down but kept an arm around your waist. As you answered the door, he remained fixed beside you. You opened the door enough to frame yourself and Bucky to the nine am neighbour who was holding a pie dish.

As time went on, the affection became a little more subtle. Hand holding, open car doors, a helping hand down the front steps of the porch when you wore heels.

Then, a few months later, you were both invited to the street BBQ.

You were standing in the slightly open planned hallway, trying to get the buckle of your heels to play along. That was when your husband came jogging down the stairs in dark jeans, a fresh shirt and a brown jacket.

“Need some help?”

He didn’t wait for your answer after hearing you sigh as you lowered your foot, frustrated at your shoe.

Bucky didn’t hesitate in bending down on one knee as you leaned against the back of the sofa. His hand gently holding onto your ankle, he lifted your heeled foot to rest on him. He did the same with the next one, his thumb rubbing beside your ankle before he let you place it on the ground.

His gaze didn’t leave yours as he stood.

“You look incredible,” he told you.

A sundress, softer block heels to match and a smile that knocked him dead on his feet the first day he met you.

“Ready to go?”

You nodded. “Let me just grab the food.”

“I still don’t see why we have to bring food to a BBQ we were invited to.”

“Because it’s good manners.”

“You know most of these people are criminals, right?” He asked you as he opened the door for you.

You shrugged. “To them, we don’t know that…yet.”

Bucky locked the door before helping you down the porch steps. It was a short walk a few houses down. As one of the women ran over to you, holding your hands and complimenting your outfit, Bucky kissed your lips quickly before being ushered towards the buffet style table where the other husbands and partners were standing.

But despite involving himself into the conversation, his eyes barely left you the entire night.

Long after food, you found yourself sitting in your husband’s lap on one of the chairs. There were only a select few left, including you and Bucky. Which also meant chairs had become few and far between.

You had planned to stand beside him, but without worry, Bucky had put his hand onto your waist and pulled you across until you were sitting comfortably.

Your arm remained fixed on his shoulder and as the night went on, you started to get more and more tired. Your body practically melted against him as the faint buzz of alcohol took over and laughter passed between the remaining people, awake enough to hear the story.

It was a little after midnight when you both returned home. Bucky pulled you into his side a little as his hand grazed over your hip and he kissed your head.

“Go shower,” he told you. “You’ve still got sunscreen on.”

You nodded as you molded into his touch once again. “I know.”

“Give me them,” Bucky whispered quietly as he took the leftovers from your arms. “Go on, I’ll be up in a minute.”

By the time you had gotten out of the shower, you found a set of fresh pajamas on your bed. They definitely hadn’t been there in the morning. As you got dressed, you hesitated in the hallway for a second. Bucky’s room was just a little further.

Yet, you stopped in your tracks when you saw his partially naked body through the crack in the door.

He was buttoning his shirt on the hanger whilst he stood by his wardrobe door, jeans hugging his hips and the muscles a little tense in his back.

It wasn’t like you’d never seen him shirtless before. But in those moments, he’d been hurt. You’d been cleaning a wound he couldn’t reach and wouldn’t let Sam touch since he considered him, “Too heavy handed.”

There was something far more intimate about how you were seeing him at that moment.

Yes, he technically was your husband. And you were living in the same house. But, it was a mission. It was a cover. It wasn’t real.

You’d thank him for the pajamas in the morning. After the feelings in your stomach had died down and the fictional image of you walking over and kissing the dip between his shoulder blades had disappeared.

You tried to make it as casual as possible. And he accepted it as casually as possible. And you both very quickly moved on. A job still needed to be done.

However, a few nights later, those lines blurred again.

You’d been awake for hours, unable to sleep. Bucky had gone to bed an hour before you had, but you were the only one to wake up after having a rather intimate dream about your marriage partner.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t push the image of him away. So, with a sigh, you’d dragged yourself from bed and gone downstairs. You’d kept the TV volume low as you turned it onto a rerun channel.

Only, as Dorothy hit Blanche on the head with a newspaper, there was a knock at your door.

You muted the TV and reached for your phone to check the camera.

You waited to the side of the front door until they knocked again. “Y/n? Are you awake?”

You rushed forward, shoving the hidden gun back into the security draw of the hallway stand.

“Suzie?”

You unlocked the door to find one of the few women you’d become friends with in the last few months. She was one of the ‘normal’ neighbours. Only, it wasn’t normal for her to be standing in her casual clothes, sopping wet from the rain, outside your door at almost half one in the morning.

“I’m so sorry,” she said with puffy eyes. “I-I saw the shine behind the curtains and I just…I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Come on in,” you pulled her out from the wet just as the familiar sound of Bucky’s feet came down the stairs.

“Is everything okay?”

The sight of him shirtless in nothing else but joggers was doing nothing to put a stop to your imagination. Considering he usually slept in his underwear – a fact you’d learned one morning when your kitchen fire alarm had decided to let its battery die at five in the morning – it shouldn’t have shocked you the way it did.

“Everything’s fine,” you assured him quietly as you met him halfway. A hand landed on his chest over his heart as you leaned up and pecked his lips. He kissed back. “Go back to bed. It’s just Suzie.”

Bucky’s tired eyes opened wide enough to recognise your neighbour in the light of the TV. He looked back at you and you just nodded.

“I promise,” you told him before kissing him again as you felt his hand at your hip.

He just nodded. “Okay. If you need me-”

“I know.”

You watched as he turned around and went back upstairs to bed before you turned back to Suzie. “Let’s get you some fresh clothes.”

“Oh, no. It’s okay. I-I can just-”

You shook your head, taking her hand in yours as you dragged her to the laundry room. You grabbed her a towel from the dryer before picking out an old paint-flicked T-shirt and some wide-legged joggers.

“Put these on, I’ll make us some tea.”

“Thank you, Y/n.”

You just nodded as you slid the laundry room door shut. She reappeared a few moments later, dressed and drying her hair with the towel, her eyes stained with tears once more.

“What’s going on?”

“Me and Johnny had a fight.”

For the next two hours you sat with her in the kitchen as she cried her way through the story of how her and her boyfriend of three years had started their fight and how it had ended.

“You can stay here for tonight. I don’t want you going back there.”

Suzie sniffled, “Thank you.” She hugged you tightly. “You’re such a good friend.”

Leading the way, you showed her the bathroom first which gave you time to tidy up the guest bedroom, as well as your own across the hallway – which just so happened to already look like nobody had been sleeping there.

By the time you reappeared, Suzie hugged you once more before you led her to the room and closed the bedroom door behind her. A few minutes later, you walked down the hallway towards Bucky’s room.

He’d left the door ajar for you.

Walking inside, you gently pulled the covers up and shifted under them until you were laying beside Bucky. And just as you thought he was dead-asleep, his arm came to lay across and pull you closer.

As your hand ran up his arm and you settled against the mattress, you felt his nose brush against the crook of your neck.

“Everything okay?”

You swallowed a little before nodding. “Yeah. Her and John had a fight. I put her in the guest room. Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“My bedroom. You tidied it.”

Bucky had a hint of a smile on his lips. “You’re my wife. You shouldn’t be anywhere else but right here, beside me.”

The use of his words, with his deeper morning voice was a pairing that would be haunting your ovulation dreams for a good while.

By the time you both woke up in the morning, you leaned over to check the time on his alarm clock. It was a little after nine. You’d both slept in.

“Suzie and I are gonna have a girl’s day today, so I might be back late.”

Bucky nodded. “Okay. Need me to do anything?”

You shook your head. “I’ll handle John.”

You leaned on your side as you watched your husband stand from the bed in his boxers and pull on his jeans, before zipping them up and buckling his belt. Then he sat back on the bed, his arm caging you in.

“Are you sure? Because, you don’t have to.”

You looked at him curiously. “Have you ever seen yourself mad?”

He then looked at you, curiously. “What?”

“Because, though you might not be him, you still have that glint in your eyes.”

“Glint?”

You nodded. “You know, that I’m gonna kill you and not regret it, look. I don’t think John needs to be threatened by the Winter Soldier look…yet.”

Bucky relaxed and nodded. “What happened?”

“It’s little things that became one big thing. What they both need right now is some space.”

“If you need me, call me.”

You smiled, before watching him pull a henley down his body. “I know.”

However, when the back of his t-shirt became stuck, you leaped up and onto your feet rather than watch him struggle for the next five minutes.

“Here, let me.”

Suddenly, the room became a lot more quiet. Bucky felt your fingers lightly graze his bare back as you fixed his shirt and helped pull it down his back. And for a moment, he felt you lean against him. Or maybe he’d leaned into your touch so much, his knees had gone weak.

“You know,” his voice was low as he spoke. “I like waking up to you with me.”

He didn’t know where the sudden confession came from considering less than two minutes ago, you’d both been talking about something completely different. All he knew was that it was the truth.

Your breath hitched. “So did-”

Before Bucky could fully turn around to face you, there was a sound of a lock opening down the hall. Suzie was awake.

“I better get breakfast started.”

Bucky nodded, his hands rubbing up and down the top of your arms as you leaned into his chest. He pressed his lips to your head. “I’ll go and check in on Sam.”

And for a few moments, you were left standing alone, his voice circling in your head.

I like waking up to you with me.

The rest of the day ran swiftly. Having pancakes for breakfast before driving out to the local shopping mall and cafe. From where, you both got a manicure before ending up at a diner on the edge of town; John had been racing around town to find his girlfriend.

Following multiple threats – both spoken, and silent – and constant apologies, Suzie and Johnny made up. But his actions were definitely going to be watched closely by you. Though nothing terrible had happened during the fight, and you doubted John would ever lay a hand on his girlfriend, he’d still hurt her.

Which put him in your bad books.

By the time you got home, John still providing Suzie the space she needed, you’d dropped Suzie off at home before pulling into your driveway, where almost instantly, Bucky had come outside and was standing on the porch waiting for you.

“Where’s Suzie?”

“She went home,” you said as you locked your car and climbed the steps of the porch, Bucky taking your hand in his. “John apologised. I’m still gonna be watching him, but they’ve made up.”

Bucky smiled. “Good. You got your nails done?”

“Oh, yeah.” Between the diner and the long conversation home, you’d forgotten. “Like ‘em?”

Bucky nodded. “Looks great.”

You smiled to yourself before looking back up at your husband. What followed was a debrief of the day, before you both collapsed onto the sofa with some desert you’d brought back home from the diner.

As whatever show Bucky had found for you both was about to flick onto the next episode before a pop-up ad came on asking if you wished to continue, you both took a break. Meanwhile, you pulled the blanket from you and stood before taking both empty bowls into the kitchen and laying them in the sink.

And you took a breather for a second.

For the last two hours, Bucky’s presence had been overwhelming – in the best sense, if the marriage had been real. But considering you were still trying to stuff emotions and images down into a box you kept meaning to lock shut, his presence was becoming more difficult to be normal around.

That fuzzy line officially broke a few weeks later.

The feelings had been growing stronger and more noticeable. The way he held you, the way he kissed you – even if it was quick. It left you wanting more. You’d also been spending more time sleeping in with him beside you than on your own.

First it had been the night Suzie had stayed. Then it had been the sofa, waking up on his chest with your back against the sofa cushions. A few sleepless nights after that, he slept beside you, holding you close to him.

After that, it became…normal…to wake up with him so close to you. His legs tangled with yours, his arm over you or around you, his steady heartbeat calming your own erratic one.

Then, one night, you couldn’t sleep.

You’d carefully peeled yourself from his arms and padded downstairs into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. But after standing at the sink for a few minutes, your own thoughts too loud for you to notice him behind you, Bucky’s hands came to lean on the sink counter.

His hands were on both sides of you, caging you in.

“You okay?”

You jumped a little. Bucky noticed, his hand coming to rest on your hip for a moment. Somehow, it calmed you.

“Yeah,” you said. “Just…couldn’t sleep.”

Bucky stayed quiet for a second before asking his next question. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

You lowered the glass from your lips and swallowed the water in your mouth. “What?”

Bucky watched the side of your face, your lips freshly wet from the cold water, your mind spiralling and distant.

His right hand came up to your left side to pull the hair away from your neck. Carefully, he called you back in before he leaned into you, his nose gently running up the length of your neck.

Your breath hitched a little as you leaned against his bare chest but still held onto the glass as it balanced on the edge of the sink.

“You’re tense,” Bucky said before he pressed a feather-light kiss to your exposed skin. And for a moment, he felt you relax. “Nightmare?”

You shook your head slowly. “No.”

“Then what is it?”

For a moment, you refused to face him. You were yet to know feelings that went away on their own when they ran as deep as they did, but maybe it was a fluke.

Then he kissed the crook of your shoulder. “Talk to me.”

“It’s you.” The words came out a quiet sigh as your eyes closed. As his lips left your shoulder, but his arms didn’t leave the space he’d created for both of you, he looked at you.

Your eyes opened. “It’s you, Bucky. You’re in my head and my…”

Heart.

“And no matter how hard I try, I can’t get rid of you. It feels like somewhere between that first kiss on the sofa and…waking up beside you, you’ve seeped into my bones. And I…I don’t know if I want that to stop.”

Bucky’s gaze roamed over yours and for a long time, he was quiet. But his arms never moved.

“That’s why I can’t sleep.”

The silence continued for a moment longer until Bucky finally spoke.

“Your name has been tattooed on my soul since the first day I met you, doll.”

You looked a little puzzled, because you were. So he explained, “The first time you smiled at me, I’m pretty sure I got knocked off my feet. And that day you kissed me…I was thinking about it for weeks until I saw you in that dress. You looked fucking stunning. From then I knew my feelings for you would never leave, not that I tried to make them. You’re tattooed on my soul, doll.”

Your gaze narrowed playfully. “Are you really having a feelings competition?”

Bucky shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Maybe. But I know I’ll always win.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because I’ve got you,” Bucky answered sincerely. “You’re more than I could ever dream of. And that includes ‘dream’ you.”

You chuckled, “Such a romantic.”, before leaning in and kissing him with a smile. But as the softness moved away for a moment, the kiss became something more. Something deeper.

Bucky stood a little taller as he moved his hands from the counter and held onto your face. The glass in your hand clattered into the sink as the water fell down the drain and you turned to step into your husband.

Placing an arm around your waist, he lifted you up and onto the island in the kitchen before he held your face again, his tongue swiping at your lip before you granted him access. He felt your legs lock around him as he pulled his mouth from yours, letting his wet kiss trail under your jaw before catching at your pulse.

You breathed deeper as his hand came to your thigh, his fingers pushing under the hem of your shorts, the ache in your underwear growing more needy.

Making it halfway up the stairs, you held onto the handrail as Bucky dropped to his knees and trailed his tongue on the inside of your thigh before tasting you like a man starved of his final meal.

By the time the sun rose, the sheets had been changed and the tile markings on your knees had settled down. But Bucky’s arm remained fixed around your middle, his fingers tracing up and down your spine.

“Promise me this isn’t a part of the mission.”

Bucky’s eyes opened to meet your tired gaze. “I promise this isn’t a part of the mission. I meant what I said last night; I don’t plan for this to stop when we move out.”

The memory of Bucky on top of you, his gaze locked onto yours as he inched himself into you slowly, floated over you. You smiled.

“Good.”

Leaning forward. Bucky kissed you lightly before rolling you onto your back, his arms wrapped around you as his kiss moved from your lips to your neck and collarbone.

He heard you giggle softly as he did so. “We’ve got work to do.”

“It’s Sunday, doll.” Bucky told you, before leaning down and kissing your bare skin. “Work can wait.”