#&& bucky

[luckytohavebucky]

This was disappearing from my likes so I'm reblogging it to make sure it's always where I can see.

'𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚜*'

[drabblesandsnippets]

Happy Birthday

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader

Summary: (1.5k) After your friends forget your birthday, a stranger interrupts your plans to celebrate by yourself.

Background: Requested by a lovely anon last night. Happy (belated) Birthday! May you find some better friends, as well as a sweet (and/or whatever you’re into 😏) Bucky!

Warnings: Disappointing birthday. Fluff. Meet cute? Very brief mention of insecurities (both). Sweet Bucky.

---------------------------

You aren’t expecting much on your birthday - a phone call, a text, maybe even a card in the mail from one of your friends - but, the day passes like any other. 

Your phone remains relatively silent, devoid of new notifications every time you give in to the urge to look, the disappointment growing each time. 

A bit of hope still remains, a part of you believing you’ll hear from at least one of them by the time evening comes, that there’ll be some sort of acknowledgement of a day that’s supposed to be celebrated.

Hours slowly tick by and still nothing. No one reaches out. Not one of your friends care enough to even remember to send a simple ‘Happy Birthday.’ And now it’s almost too late to do anything about it. 

The impulse to text them first dies before you even pick up your phone, deciding at the last minute to do something for yourself instead. As much as you’d love to have friends to wish you a happy birthday, the least you can do is celebrate on your own.

With most places already closed, given the late hour, you end up at a hole-in-the-wall diner, tucked away on a quiet street. It’s not as empty as you expect it to be, a few patrons spread out along the booths lining the wall, a couple others sitting at opposite ends of the counter, all of them absorbed by their own form of distraction - a quiet conversation, their phone, a book.

You’re barely even acknowledged as you walk in, the older man behind the counter passing you a menu on your way to your choice of the empty corner booth. Grateful that you’re not the only one eating alone at this late hour, you take your time choosing all your favorite items, determined to celebrate, even if it’s by yourself.

It’s not until you’re standing at the counter to place your order that you take more notice of the man with the leather jacket, his face buried in a book. He’s incredibly distracting, your gaze unceremoniously drifting to the stubble lining his jaw as you try to focus on getting your order right. 

You don’t know it, but he finds you equally distracting. From the moment you walked in, Bucky took notice, the familiar look of loneliness in your eyes drawing his attention. It’s far from what’s kept his interest though, the subtle air of confidence and determination surrounding you pulling his focus whenever you’re not looking.

The urge to initiate contact grows with every passing second, the itch to seek connection making him shift, his jaw twitching under your sporadic scrutiny. He’s not even sure what to say, a simple ‘hi’ feeling too inconsequential, too impersonal. 

And then you’re gone, having returned to your seat, waiting for your meal, the moment of possibilities dissipating before Bucky really had a chance to imagine what might happen. 

Back in the 40’s, he wouldn’t have thought twice about approaching you, and he certainly wouldn’t have worried about saying the right thing or being rejected. But, Bucky’s not that man anymore and all the wishing isn’t going to change that. 

So, for now, he just watches you, careful to avoid your gaze, his heart beating wildly in his throat every time a smile crosses your face, your phone providing you some sort of entertainment.

It’s the only distraction you have, your plethora of apps keeping you from staring at the man that feels like a walking piece of art. If today were any other day, it’s entirely possible you’d actually try to get his attention. You’re already dealing with enough rejection though and you’re unable to handle the possibility of any more tonight.

Once your food comes, you force yourself to savor each bite, drawing out the last little bit of your birthday before it’s officially over. The disappointment over your friends will surely linger for days to come, so you may as well try to enjoy this as much as possible, no matter how alone you feel.

You save the best for last, returning to the counter to get a to-go box for your leftovers and placing an order for a slice of cake, barely managing to add, “it’s my birthday” at the last moment. 

It leads to an awkward smile with the owner as he gives you a quick, “happy birthday” in response, your cheeks flushing as you return to your booth. You weren’t even planning to say it, no matter how much you rehearsed the words in your head before you went up there.

Once you were standing there, though, you felt like you deserved to hear ‘happy birthday’ once more before the night ends, even if it’s from a slightly forced interaction. It’s not like you ever have to come back here anyway.

It’s her birthday.

The decision is made before Bucky has a chance to talk himself out of it, slinking out of his seat after he bookmarks the page he’s read at least twenty times now. After a short conversation with the owner, who for some reason enjoys his quiet company, Bucky sneaks into the back to get to work.

He doesn’t have nearly everything he’d like, but he’s resourceful, making do with what he has access to, intent on making this a happier birthday for you. Torn between getting it right, and not wanting to keep you waiting, it only takes a few minutes before he’s walking back out, his gloved hand hidden behind his back.

You’re caught off guard when you see him approaching, his smile making your stomach flutter and your pulse race. There’s no denying that you’re his destination, his sure footsteps leading him straight to you, your lips parting prematurely, as if you’re capable of even saying anything first.

He doesn’t give you a chance, the moment he’s within reach of your table, his hidden hand returns with a flourish, producing a haphazard birthday cake. Several pieces of different types of cake sit in a oddly-shaped circle, unlit mismatched candles placed around the barely legible words ‘Happy Birthday.’

Tears prick your eyes the same time laughter bubbles out of you, this sudden display of kindness leaving you speechless, a range of emotions washing over you. 

He seems to take it in stride, his head tilting as his smile grows, telling you, “Happy Birthday.” He pulls a lighter out of his pocket, his brow raised as he holds it up to ask, “How you feel about being center of attention? Say the word and I can get this place to sing to you.”

You’re quick to shake your head as he starts to light the candles, your skin already warm from just his attention, your voice finding you long enough to tell him, “No, I don’t - that’s okay - thank you.”

“Fair enough,” he grins, finishing the last of the candles, your eyes drawn to the reflection of the flickering flames on the sleeve of his jacket. 

Your mind is racing with things to say, wanting to remind him to be careful so he doesn’t accidentally burn himself, to ask him if he works here, to figure out why he’s being so nice. No words come until he’s introducing himself to break the ice, asking for your name in return.

You almost stumble, your own name nearly forgotten as he sits across from you, his gloved hands pushing the cake a bit closer towards you.

“Well, it’s nice to officially meet you,” he says before a rueful smile graces his face. “Now, I’m gonna have to sing ‘happy birthday.’” When you open your mouth to protest, he shakes his head, telling you, “It just doesn’t seem right to have you blow out your candles without it.”

Another shake of your head to assure him, “You don’t have to do that.” 

“Oh, I definitely do,” he promises with a swift nod, his tongue peaking out to wet his lips in preparation. “It’s not really a birthday celebration without it, but I promise not to draw too much attention.”

After a quick glance around the diner, ignoring the knowing look from the owner, Bucky does as promised, keeping his voice low enough not to make any of the other customers want to join in as he sings ‘Happy Birthday’ to you.

As overwhelmed as it makes you feel, it’s hard to ignore the warmth that settles over you, each line of the song erasing some of the disappointment from the day. Hearing your name fall from his lips, even as part of the song, finally breaks your resolve, the tears that have been threatening to build starting to blur your vision.

If Bucky notices, he keeps it to himself, encouraging you to buy into the premise and close your eyes to make a wish. It’s hard not to give in, finally letting yourself live fully in the moment, to allow yourself to be celebrated with a complete stranger.

The wish you make isn’t anything new, but as you open your eyes, finding Bucky still smiling at you, ready to cut the cake and continue this celebration, you’re struck with a feeling that’s impossible to shake.

Maybe today isn’t about rejection after all, maybe you just needed to reminded of what you deserve.

---------------------------

Happy Birthday, anon! I wasn't sure what you were looking for, but I hope you like it. Feel free to ask for a continuation 🩶

Everyone, please use the comments (or reblogs!) to wish anon a happy birthday!

Main Masterlist

[narcissisticmf]

get up | bucky barnes x fem!reader

description: y/n is not a morning person and bucky tries everything in his power to ease her into the start of the day.

trigger warnings: fluff, some seductive behavior, domestic!bucky, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: <1k

The sun slipped its way through the closed curtains, shining brightly into the room. Your body was entangled within the sheets and thick blankets among your queen sized bed. You grumbled softly as the morning sun hit your eyes, causing you to slowly shield your face behind the thick blanket, no desire to get up yet.

You felt Bucky stir beside you, your back facing him. He must've been waking up. You felt his right arm slip protectively around your stomach, making you to groan softly.

You loved Bucky's affection, but receiving it early in the morning was something you were trying to get yourself used to. You hated physical affection in the morning and, of course, Bucky knew this but that didn't stop him.

"Mornin', sweetheart," Bucky mumbled into your ear with resonance. You gently moaned, clearly not ready to get up yet.

"You want some tea?" he asked, nibbling gently on your earlobe. You stayed quiet, but turned over to face him. You were so tired, and something unusual made you nestle closer to hin that morning. Your face disappeared into his chest and beneath the covers as his arms engulfed you tightly.

"Look at you.." Bucky whispered with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You released a soft huff and breathed in his scent. "What's got you so soft this morning, hm?"

"Shh," you whispered with a soft whine, no desire to speak yet.

To this, Bucky laughed. He pressed a warm kiss to your temple.

After a few moments of stillness that enveloped the room, Bucky dipped his chin down and pressed a lingering kiss to the apple of your cheek. "Cmon, sweetheart," he whispered as softly as possible. "Time to get up."

"Nooo," you dragged out softly.

"Yesss," he mimicked your tone with a smile.

"Bucky," you huffed and lifted your chin to look up at him. Your hair was matted against your forehead, your eyes glassed over the iridescent glimmer of them, and your lips were dry, slightly chapped.

"Y/N," Bucky smiled, sat up while leaning on his elbow, and cupped your face with his hands. You shivered at the cold touch of his metal arm, but relished in the light thrill.

"There's my girl," he grinned and leaned down to press a kiss to your nose. "Good morning."

"Morning," you couldn't fight your smile as Bucky leaned down to pepper kisses across your jawline and neck. You rested your head against the pillows and fluttered your eyes closed, admiring the feel of his warm lips against your cold skin.

He halted at your collarbone and seemed to question with his eyes if he should keep going. When you didn't protest, he sucked the skin over your bone.

Your body shuttered, leaving gooseflesh across your exposed arms.

"I felt that," Bucky smirked.

"Shut up," you laughed and nudged him off you.

He didn't fight you and laughed, shuffling off the bed. He turned to look down at you, still beneath the covers.

"How'd I get so lucky, hm?" Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at you with such an intense gaze, you felt your face go hot.

"Bucky," you whined softly and covered your face with the blankets.

"No, no, please.. don't cover that beautiful face," Bucky implored pathetically, leaning against the mattress to tug the sheets away.

You giggled when he clearly won the tug-o-war battle.

"There she is," Bucky grinned. "Come on, I'll make us breakfast."

This time, you happily obliged.

.

a/n: hi cuties!! i know ive been gone for a hot minute, i've just been swamped with my classes. i'm taking 4 lit classes this semester 🙄 someone tell me why i thought that was a good idea. ANYWAY ,, i hope yall liked this one! i've been seeing sm bucky content bc of thunderbults (can't wait to see that btw) so i thought to write a cute little fic this morning with him. and seeing sebastian talk shit on donald trump to the press is so sexy to me 🤭 okok i'll stop fangirling!! love yall! have a nice thanksgiving to my u.s. friends who celebrate! — angelina.

[xxchumanixx]

Home

Bucky Barnes x reader

In the quiet of the night, Bucky is where he belongs - home.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, domestic Bucky

Word count: tba

Authors note: Hey my loves! This is a small drabble I've had in my head for a while now. It takes place at least one year after tfatws. We're just gonna ignore Thunderbolts* for the sake of this because I'm not ready for that yet. You might notice something else, too.

Enjoy!

Bucky let his gaze drift around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings.

The air was still and quiet, filled only with the distant sounds of the city outside the windows.

He leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes.

A sense of deep peace settled over him.

The weight of the day's activities seemed to lift from his shoulders, leaving him weary but fulfilled.

He took a deep breath, releasing a soft sigh.

His mind wandered to thoughts of you, of your daughter, of everything he was fighting for.

His heart filled with gratitude, and he knew there was no place he'd rather be in this moment than right there, keeping watch over his family.

Bucky's eyes flickered open, his gaze falling upon the clock on the wall.

The hour grew later, and exhaustion tugged at his eyelids.

He sat upright, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders, feeling a satisfying pop.

Glancing towards the bedroom, his mind wandered to the warmth of your body against his in bed.

Bucky stood up, walking quietly towards the bedroom, mindful of the creaky floorboards.

He opened the door and found you asleep, the covers draped over your sleeping form.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he felt his heart swell at the sight of you.

He crossed the room quietly, his movements almost silent as he slid into bed next to you.

Gently, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer so that your back was flush to his chest.

Bucky savored the feel of your body against his, relishing the simple comfort of your presence.

He nuzzled his nose into your hair, inhaling the faint scent of your shampoo.

Closing his eyes, his body relaxed into the softness of the sheets.

The room was filled with a gentle silence, punctuated only by the steady rhythm of your breathing.

He felt his weariness slowly fade, replaced by a deep sense of contentment and belonging.

Bucky held you tighter, his grip steady and secure.

His mind drifted off to thoughts of the day, of the future, the small box he'd carried in his pocket for almost two weeks now, his worries dissolving into the comfort of the night.

There in the darkness, with you in his arms, he found peace in the knowledge that finally everything was as it should be.

He surrendered to the stillness, letting it wash over him.

His thoughts quieted, and his breathing slowed to match yours.

In the quiet of the room, Bucky knew that as long as he had you and your daughter by his side, everything would be alright.

And with that, he allowed himself to slowly sink into the dreamless embrace of sleep.

For the night, and for all the days to come, Bucky felt grateful.

Grateful to have a family.

Grateful to have love.

Grateful for everything that mattered.

And with that thought, Bucky drifted off, feeling a sense of deep contentment settle over him.

He held you a little tighter in his embrace, grateful for the warmth of your body.

As the moonlight cast shadows across the room, Bucky breathed a soft sigh, feeling the peace of the night envelop him.

For a moment, all else faded away, replaced only by the soft cadence of his breathing and the gentle rise and fall of your chest.

In that moment, he was just a man, holding the woman he loved more than life itself.

There were no worries, no responsibilities, no fears of the future, or his past.  

There was only the present.

Only you.

In the quiet stillness of the room, Bucky felt the weight of his love for you settle over him.

It was an almost physical presence, a comforting and unshakeable force that filled him with joy.

His grip on you was firm yet gentle.

Nothing that mattered could touch him.

And nothing ever would again.

He let himself melt into the embrace, the steady rhythm of your breathing like a lullaby.

A reminder that you were there, that you were safe, that you were his.

Bucky felt his eyelids grow heavy, the pull of sleep drawing him down into its embrace.

He knew that as long as he had you, as long as he could hold you, as long as he could feel your heartbeat against his, nothing could ever break him again.

With that thought, he surrendered to the drowsiness of sleep.

His breathing slowed, matching the steady rhythm of your own.

And in that moment, Bucky let go of everything.

He let go of his fears, his doubts, his worries.

He let go of the past, the present, the future.

There was only your body against his, nothing else mattered.

He felt himself slip into a deep, dreamless slumber, his consciousness fading into the soft haze of darkness.

He held you tightly, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

There was nothing but the warm, comforting presence of your body against his, nothing but the steady rise and fall of your chest.

And in that moment, he was home.

Tag List:

@ava @sapphirebarnes @skywalker0809 @freyathehuntress @queenslandlover-93 @judig92 @caplanbuckybarnes

[arpicityandneed]

Congratulations on 100! Also-- gradschool apps can be draining, please make sure you're taking care of you! We care about you <3

For your 100 prompts, I'd like to request 3 or 10 with Bucky? But I'm excited to see everything and anything you do!

Thank you, as always, for sharing your work and congratulations again!

This was so sweet omg ♡ I really enjoy writing on tumblr because of the interactions I can have with readers like you. Thank you for the support, it really means a lot cause these applications child...

Bucky (#3 fully clothed x stark naked)

18+ f!reader. Avengers!Bucky. Creampie. Light spanking. Daddy kink. Established relationship.

He punched in the code to his rooms at Stark Tower with a silent thank you to that asshole for making the technology whisper quiet. He frequently came back from missions in the dead of night and never wanted to wake you accidentally. He abandoned his bag at the entry way and crept deeper into the modern space moving without a sound until he reached the master bedroom.

Inside he found you sleeping in his bed, naked and so cozy it mended his fractured heart all over again. You slept deeply, like you knew down to your bones nothing could touch you without incurring his wrath.

His woman.

He crouched beside you and took a moment to just look at you. The slope of your cheek bones, the curve of your jaw, the little pout of your lips. Every inch of your body was bare to him with such trust it made him hard. He couldn't resist brushing his lips against yours and smiled as you woke up with a sleepy murmur of his name.

"Missed you doll. C'mere." He tugged you into his arms easily, your soft body pressed against his tactical gear. The dark grey and gold of his arm glinted in the low light of the room as he grabbed your ass cheek and pulled you closer- guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Hm, missed me real bad didn't you baby?" You blinked awake as you felt his erection pressed against your core, smiling and taking in his handsome features. "Hey." You mumbled softly before kissing him properly this time.

"I want you just like this, soft and sweet just for me." Bucky was lost, hands roaming over your body like he couldn't settle for just one touch.

"Then have me, Bucky, you don't gotta ask twice." You smiled at the way his eyes lit up, a small squeak escaping you were lifted by one bionic arm. His other hand went to his belt buckle. He didn't bother with the rest of the gear, only taking out his cock and dragging it through your folds- groaning when he felt how wet you were.

"Were you-?" His eyes shot to yours, hopeful.

"How else do I pass the time while I'm waitin' on you? Get's lonely at night in this big bed without you, Sarge- fuck!" You couldn't focus on finishing your teasing when the blunt head of him was pressing into you. Inch after thick inch filled you until you were trembling in his lap, rocking your hips and rubbing yourself against him like a bitch in heat.

"Then I expect this, warm welcome, fucking hell-" He growled biting down on your shoulder as he tighten his arm around your waist. "Every time I come home."

"Anything, just come home to me." You promised, feeling him throb inside you. Somehow it was the tender confessions that seemed to bring out his urge to ruin you.

"Anything?" His voice was low, heavy with intention as he planted his feet firmly.

"Anything, baby. Anything you want." You nodded and kisses his nose, your last coherent action before he used his arm to hold you still- fucking his fat cock up into your drenched heat again and again until you were dizzy with need.

"Gonna let me use you? Whenever I want? However I want?" Bucky was feral, his flesh hand slapping your ass when you were too fucked out to answer quick enough.

"Yes!" You cried out as you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix wetly as he buried himself balls deep inside you.

"Tell me why. Say it." He growled in your ear, smirking when he felt your nails try to scratch at his shoulders through his kevlar. Your clit was grinding against his fingers before you remembered his hand moving.

"Love you!" You squealed as he pounded you through an orgasm so forceful you saw stars.

"That's right baby, louder." He groaned, losing his rhythm as he got close. "Tell me again, fuck."

"Love you, daddy," you slurred, drunk on his cock and the orgasm that drenched his shaft.

"That's just unfair-" Your fluttering walls were soaked in his seed as he grinded up into you, cradling you against his chest and kissing your temple.

"But I love you too doll."

[lives-in-midgard]

Y/N: Hey, Bucky. Do you know what day it is tomorrow?

Bucky: Hey, doll. It was the day that we met.

Y/N: Omg, you really remember.

Bucky: Of course I do. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

[iamleesi]

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓 ☠︎

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝟑𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟. 18+.

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤! 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 "𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄" 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝. 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

-> [ 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ] [ 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟏 ] [ 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟯 ]

𝐺𝐻𝑂𝑆𝑇 𝐺𝐼𝑅𝐿: 𝐻𝑢𝑠𝘩, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝘩𝑢𝑠𝘩, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑎𝑚 𝑚𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𓃠 ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ 𓃠

It had been a few days since she first crawled through the tunnel and found him. The other Bucky. He looked perfect, like he always had - messy hair, soft stubble, the kind of smile that made her stomach turn in the best way. And the world he existed in? Flawless. At least, the small parts of it she’d seen so far. Every corner felt like it had been plucked from her happiest dreams and set up just for her.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t completely drown out the nagging voice in the back of her head, the one that whispered that this couldn’t be real. Because she’d seen him dead. His lifeless body, pale and cold. She’d stood there, trembling, as his casket was lowered into the ground.

So how? How could he be here now, smiling at her like nothing had happened?

Every time she tried to bring it up, he’d hush her doubts with a touch of his hand or a soft word. “Don’t think about that.” He’d say. “It doesn’t matter how. What matters is that I’m here for you. I need you.”

She heard that last part a lot. Almost every time she crossed back into this world, every time she returned to his arms, he’d remind her that he needed her. It felt like a lifeline, something that tethered her to this impossible version of him.

Every night, after the comfort of his embrace lulled her to sleep, she’d wake up in the real world again. Alone. The emptiness of her bed in the morning was a shot through the heart, and the loss would hit her all over again. Because that world without him was unbearable. It was cold, and cruel, and hollow.

But here, in his world, she could hear his heartbeat. Feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Smell the faint scent of his cologne on the sweater she never thought she’d touch again.

So she was torn. Every time she crossed back into reality, she hated it more and more. She hated how it reminded her that he wasn’t there anymore, that he’d been ripped away from her. But there was another part of her, the part that clung to her memories of their life together, that whispered that this wasn’t right.

She tried not to listen to that part.

Because, honestly? She wanted to stay. With him. The buttons for eyes didn’t matter anymore. That was her Bucky - her stubborn but soft-hearted Bucky. And in this world, there was no Hydra, no missions, no lives at risk for other people’s fights. Their friends lived carefree in cozy little cottages scattered around the area - as Bucky said. No battles, no sacrifices, just simple dinners and lazy afternoons. Even his metal arm was gone.

Now she knelt in the dirt, her knees on a foam pad Bucky had brought her earlier, muttering something about how “his girl deserves comfort.” He’d even tied her red apron for her, the bow sitting perfectly in the small of her back. It was a silly little thing, but she’d smiled like an idiot as he adjusted the strings, his fingers lingering for just a moment too long.

Her thoughts spiraled as she dug her hands into the soil, planting some cute flowers in a neat little row outside the house. As much as she wanted to believe this was real, a flicker of doubt still simmered under her ribs, she couldn’t help it.

“Hey, doll.” A familiar voice called out, breaking her trance. She startled slightly but smiled instinctively as she looked up to see him.

Bucky stood a few feet away, holding two glasses of lemonade in one hand and brushing dirt off the apron he wore with the other. It was a cheerful shade of green, smudged with grass, and tied a little too tightly around his waist. It looked exactly like the ones they’d worn together in the real world, back when they’d baked cookies during Christmas. Back when she still had him. “You’re overthinking things again, aren’t you?” He teased, a knowing grin tugging at his lips.

She chuckled softly, brushing her hands on her matching apron. “Maybe.” She admitted as he extended a hand to help her up. His grip was firm, grounding, and when she stood, he pressed one of the cold glasses into her free hand.

“Do you know how much I love seeing you out here, planting all these flowers?” He said, gesturing to the budding garden around them. “It’s like you’re giving some life into this place. And to me.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned her attention back to the flowers. “I’m trying.”

“You are, and I love the view. Double win for me and the place.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she sprayed a little too much water on the marigolds. “You’re impossible.”

He grinned, finally looking over at her, and the warmth in his expression made her chest ache in the best way. “Impossible or not, I’m all yours.”

Her smile faltered for just a moment, and she swallowed hard, trying to ignore the lump forming in her throat. He had no idea how much those words meant to her - how much she’d longed to hear them again. She blinked quickly, pushing the emotion down before it could spill over.

“Everything okay?” He asked, tilting his head as he set the shears down.

She took a sip of the lemonade, its tartness cooling her throat, and smiled faintly. “I just… I do it a lot lately - thinking, I mean. This all feels so surreal. That I’ve been given a second chance. Why me? Why not someone else?”

“Why not you?” He countered gently, his tone warm and reassuring.

“But it’s just… why does it have to be like this?” She hesitated, her voice dropping to a murmur. “It’s beautiful, but it feels like I cheated. Like I’m running away from something I’m supposed to face.”

He reached out, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “You didn’t cheat anything. You found me. This world - it only works if the person searching for it needs it more than anything. It shaped itself for you, based on what you’ve been missing, what your heart’s been crying out for.”

“What’s the price?” She asked, her voice low but steady, though the words felt like shards in her throat.

At that, he licked his lower lip, his gaze flickering with something unreadable - hesitation, maybe. As if he was weighing whether or not to tell her, whether or not she was ready to hear it. Or he was ready to say it.

“Bucky?” She pressed, her heartbeat quickening.

“It’s…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous. “It’s nothing compared to how we’d live. Come inside with me, doll. I’ll show you.”

Her stomach twisted at the vague response, and even as she nodded and followed him, a cold, nagging voice in the back of her mind reminded her that nothing good came without a price. She knew it.

She trailed behind him into the house, her hands trembling slightly as they entered the cozy living room. He motioned for her to sit, and she did so reluctantly, sinking into the couch. Her nerves refused to settle.

Bucky crouched in front of her, sitting on the coffee table with his elbows resting on his knees, his hands firm on her thighs. The warmth of his touch anchored her, and yet she couldn’t shake the unease coiling in her chest.

“I want you to consider it, at least.” He began, his tone measured, his gaze fixed on hers. “I know it sounds… bad, maybe even awful. And it could scare you off. But the choice is yours.” His thumbs moved in slow circles on her thighs, as if soothing her for what he was about to say.

Her brows furrowed, and she leaned forward slightly. “What choice?”

He sighed, pulling a small box from his apron pocket. It was plain, unassuming, but the weight of it felt suffocating even before he opened it.

“You can go back to the real world, where I’m gone. Where I’ll never come back. Where you’ll grieve, and move on, and live without me.” His voice softened as he spoke, his eyes - well, his buttons - searching hers for any sign of what she was thinking. “Or…”

He flipped open the box with a quiet snap. Inside, on a bed of soft fabric, were two small, black buttons and a delicate needle threaded with dark, glimmering string.

Her stomach dropped. “No.”

“Think about it.” His response came immediately, his voice steady and calm as if he’d anticipated her reaction. He pushed the box aside and leaned forward, taking her hands in his. She flinched slightly, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened - not enough to hurt, but enough to keep her there.

“Bucky.” She whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes flicked from his hands to the buttons and back, her mind racing. “You can’t be serious. That’s insane. I’m insane for even being here, for…”

“For wanting this?” He interrupted gently. “For wanting me?” His hands softened around hers, his touch turning tender again. “I know it’s a lot. And I know it’s not what you expected. But this is the only way, doll. The only way we can be together - really, truly together again. Like we planned. It doesn’t even hurt, it will just sting a little bit.”

“This is fucked up.” She said. “The Bucky I know, the real you, would never ask me to do this.”

“I told you I’m not him. Just another version who loves you just the same.” His lips twitched into a bittersweet smile. “The real me is gone, sweetheart. This me, the one sitting here with you, the one who’s waited for you, who needs you… I’m the Bucky you’ve been praying for, the one you begged to have back. The only one you can have. Don’t you see? You don’t have to lose me again.”

She wanted to scream, to run, to crawl back through that door and never look back. But she also wanted him - to have him, hold him, hear his voice every day for the rest of her life. Just at the thought of living her life without him was enough to consider what he was saying.

Her gaze dropped to the buttons. “I don’t know if I can.” She whispered.

“You don’t have to decide now.” He said, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. “But you will have to make the decision soon enough. This world may be perfect, but it has rules.”

After that, the day went on as usual, as if the conversation about buttons and impossible choices had never even happened. Bucky didn’t bring it up again, and she didn’t dare to.

Everything about the way he held her hand, kissed her temple, and leaned close to her when he told stories about their relationship, that of course she already knew, was so perfectly him. It felt so easy, so natural, but she couldn’t entirely silence the gnawing feeling in the back of her mind, the one that whispered about the things she was trying so hard not to think about.

The buttons. No matter how she looked at it, that was her main concern at the moment.

Would it really be so bad, she wondered, to do what he was asking? Was it really so much to give? If sewing buttons into her eyes meant she could stay in this world - with him - wasn’t it worth it? He had told her she didn’t have to decide right away, and yet she could feel the weight of the decision silently pressing her.

By the time evening rolled around, her head felt heavy with the back-and-forth debate she had been waging with herself all day. She was standing on the porch, slipping off Bucky’s boots with a scowl when the thoughts came rushing back again. The man, other Bucky or not, had a bad habit of walking through the house with muddy shoes, something that had annoyed her to no end in the real world, too.

“Perfect world, my ass.” She said quietly, kneeling to brush dirt off the porch. “After all this time, I thought you understood the phrase ‘no dirt in the house’, Barnes!” She said loud enough for him to hear.

“Sorry, baby!” His voice called from the kitchen.

“Idiot.”

She set his shoes neatly next to hers, brushing the caked remaining dirt off her hands when something in her peripheral vision caught her attention. A shadow, slight and quick, darting across the edge of the garden.

She turned her head, squinting into the fading light. It was a cat. A black cat, sitting just beyond the garden’s edge. The fur was very obviously unkempt, one ear ragged and torn like it had been in a fight. It sat there, still, its tail curling and uncurling behind it as its blue eyes were fixed on her.

It was the same black cat from the real world, she realized, the one that always seemed to prowl around her property at all hours of the day. She used to catch small glimpses of it lounging on her fence or slinking through the garden. Back then, she’d joked to herself that it probably had a thing for Alpine. And of course, it would be here. If this world was a near-perfect replica of the one she left behind, why wouldn’t it include the same stray animals?

But now that she thought about it, that was strange too. Where were the animals? She hadn’t seen so much as a bird or squirrel flitting through the trees. And Alpine - her beloved Alpine - was nowhere to be found. That absence hit her like a brick. She hadn’t even questioned Alpine’s absence. She cursed herself for it now. Bucky had consumed her thoughts so completely that she hadn’t had room for anything - or anyone - else.

“Hello there.” She said softly, stepping toward the cat. “You hungry?”

“No.”

She froze, her hand pausing mid-reach.

The voice was low and clear, but it wasn’t Bucky’s.

Straightening her back, she quickly glanced around, expecting to see someone else standing nearby. But the porch was empty, save for her and the cat. “Hello?”

“Down here.” The voice said again.

Her eyes darted back to the cat. It sat perfectly still, tail curling and uncurling lazily as it stared at her.

Her pulse quickened. “Did you… Did you just talk?”

“Yes.” The cat said, sounding almost bored. Its voice was smoother than she expected, tinged with a dry, unimpressed humor. “And no, I’m not hungry. But she is.”

Her chest tightened as she whipped around, scanning the empty garden for signs of another person - or something. “She who?”

The cat didn’t move, its eyes never leaving her. “You know who. You’re a smart human, don’t fall for this trap.” It said, the slow flick of its tail suddenly feeling less lazy and more menacing. “So leave, before she loses her patience and takes what she wants. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. This had to be some kind of sick joke. Or maybe she was losing her mind. Slowly, she turned back to the cat. “What are you talking about?” She sounded demanding, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound firm.

The cat only tilted its head, the corner of its torn ear twitching. “Tell Alpine I see the way she looks at me.”

Her jaw practically hit the floor as she watched the cat vanish into the shadows of the night, leaving her standing there dumbfounded. She stared at the empty space where it had been, her mind spinning. How the hell had her life taken this turn? A talking cat? Cryptic warnings? What was next? The Slender Man?

With a heavy huff, she turned on her heel and marched back inside, shutting the door firmly behind her. She padded into the kitchen in her pink, fluffy slippers, trying to shake off the surreal encounter. “The weirdest thing just happened, Buck.” She blurted as soon as she stepped into the room.

But then her eyes met his - well, his buttons. She froze mid-step, swallowing hard and clearing her throat. “Never mind.”

Bucky, standing by the counter with a dish towel slung over his shoulder, raised an eyebrow. “You okay?” He asked, his voice tinged with a soft laugh.

“Yeah, I think so.” She replied, walking over to him. The moment she reached him, she let her forehead rest against his shoulder with a deep sigh. Was it contentment? Was it exhaustion? She wasn’t sure anymore.

Bucky didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest. The familiar warmth of his embrace, the way his hands rested protectively on her shoulders, sent a wave of much needed comfort through her.

“Why isn’t Alpine here?” She asked softly, her voice muffled against his chest. “She’s still alive in the other world. I can bring her here tomorrow morning.”

The change in his body language was immediate. His arms stiffened ever so slightly, and she felt the pause in his breath before he answered. “No.”

She frowned, pulling back just enough to look up at him, confusion etched across her face. His tone had been quiet but firm, and it threw her completely off guard. “What do you mean, ‘no?’” She asked, her eyebrows drawing together. “It’s Alpine. Our Alpine. What’s wrong with bringing her here?”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a thin smile - one that didn’t quite reach the stitched buttons where his eyes should’ve been. “I don’t like cats.” He said simply. Sternly. As if the thought of cats disgusted him.

Her frown deepened, the words making no sense to her. “What?” She said, blinking at him. “Since when? You love cats. You’re the one who brought Alpine home in the first place!“

His hand came up to cup her cheek, the gentle gesture disarming her even as his words made her stomach twist. “Not this time, doll.” He said softly. “We don’t need anything else. It’s just us here. Cats have a tendency to ruin everything.”

The words rang in her head for a moment, refusing to fade even as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, soft and deliberate. It was the kind of kiss meant to disarm her, like he always did when he made her mad, to silence whatever questions were beginning to form on the edge of her tongue. She wanted to ask, to argue, but before she could even gather her thoughts, he was already gone. He was walking out of the kitchen muttering something about taking a quick shower.

She stayed rooted in place, staring at the empty doorway, her fingers curling instinctively around the edge of the counter. Something about the conversation, about him, felt off; she couldn’t deny that. But again, technically that wasn’t the old Bucky so maybe this version just hated cats?

She had no idea of how many red flags she was ignoring just for the sake of finding that happiness again. With him.

She shook her head sharply, trying to clear the haze. Overthinking again. She did that a lot here. It wasn’t as if the real world made any more sense (Wanda had a habit of doing weird things with her magic, lately), so why couldn’t she just… let go? Why couldn’t she accept that maybe, just maybe, this was her second chance?

Her eyes drifted to the pile of clothes near the doorway: that was gonna be her distraction from the mess in her head. Gardening with him earlier had been calming, grounding, but their clothes had the evidence of their afternoon - smudges of dirt, streaks of green from the grass. His apron was folded on top of the pile, wrinkled and stained.

With a deep breath, she made her way toward the basement door after gathering the clothes into her arms. It creaked as she pushed it open, revealing a small staircase that disappeared into the dark space below. She hesitated for a moment, her grip tightening on the clothes. Something about the basement always managed to make her uneasy, though she couldn’t explain why. Maybe she watched too many horror movies? Probably.

Even she had to admit the basement felt… off? Not creepy at all, though: no bad smells, no weird drips of water hitting the ground with a rhythm. It was just different. Cleaner, brighter, almost ominous how perfect it seemed. Oh, and that picture hanging on the wall of the staircase ? Yeah, it wasn’t the same either.

Back in the real world, that kid was crying, ice cream dripping down his hand like the worst day of his life. Here, though? The boy was smiling wide and the cone perfectly intact. It wasn’t like the rules of this place made any sense anyway. A “perfect reality,” right? So, of course, even random wall art was upgraded to match the vibe. Cool.

She forced herself to focus, dumping the gardening clothes into the washing machine and starting it up without wasting a second.

Good. Done. Get out of here before the imaginary basement monster shows up, she thought. It was a dumb fear - childish, even - but oh well. Basements always gave her the creeps. She turned toward the stairs, ready to bolt, when something caught her eye.

A splash of yellow sticking out of an old wooden chest shoved into the corner.

She froze - bad vibes coming from it. For a second, she considered ignoring it, pretending she didn’t see it at all. But curiosity always got the better of her, again. She moved closer, almost expecting a jump scare of some sort, her hand hesitating before finally grabbing the fabric and pulling it free.

It was just a raincoat.

Tiny, bright yellow, and smeared with dried mud. Her stomach twisted as she held it up, the sleeves limp in her hands. This wasn’t Bucky’s. It couldn’t be. He was built like a tank, and this thing looked like it belonged to a kid - a little kid.

Her mind raced. She hadn’t seen any children since she arrived. Not one. Just her and Bucky. And that cat, if that counted.

But there it was. The muddy raincoat of some kid who didn’t seem to exist in this perfect world. Or maybe it didn’t exist anymore? Or maybe it did at some point.

She swallowed hard, her grip tightening on the fabric. “Shit.” She muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible over the hum of the washing machine.

“Doll? Where are you?” His voice floated down from the upper floor, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts.

Her heart skipped, panic bubbling up as she quickly shoved the raincoat back into the chest, slamming the lid down with more force than she meant to. She bolted up the stairs, her breath slightly unsteady, and nearly bumped into him as he appeared in the hallway.

“What were you doing down there?” He asked, his brow furrowed, eyes - well, still those fucking buttons - narrowing ever so slightly.

“The laundry?” She blurted, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. It was true, but it came out sounding like a question.

“Ah.” His expression softened, the tension vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He smiled, bright and sweet, like he always did when she was close. “Thank you, doll. You didn’t have to, though. You know that, right? You don’t have to lift a finger around here if you don’t want to. I could’ve done it.”

“I know.” She gave a small shrug, her arms folding protectively across her chest. “I just thought… I don’t know. I don’t mind doing the laundry here.”

Her voice faltered slightly at the end, and an unwelcome thought crept into her head. You couldn’t even look at the laundry back home. Too many of his shirts still smelled like him. Too many memories. But she shook it off, forcing herself to focus on him, on the present - or whatever that world was.

Bucky tilted his head, studying her for a moment like he was waiting for her to say more, but she didn’t. Instead, she reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked, a soft chuckle escaping him, though his gaze lingered. “Every time I leave you alone, I find you all panicked. And yes, I notice.”

“No, yeah, I know. I’m fine.” She nodded quickly. “I promise. Just… zoned out for a second, I guess.”

“Alright.” He leaned in and kissed her temple, his lips warm against her skin. “You’ve been through a lot. I just don’t want you worrying about anything while you’re here. This place is for you to be happy. To rest.”

She offered him a weak smile, and he seemed satisfied enough to let it drop.

But the coat was still on her mind.

. . .

After a few hours after that, they were sprawled on the couch together, her legs stretched over his lap, her body nestled into his side. It was late - later than she normally stayed in this world. Usually, she made sure to fall asleep next to him just in time to wake up in the real one at a normal hour and feed Alpine, but tonight… tonight she let herself linger. The air felt different.

He made it too easy. The way his hand traced absentminded patterns on her arm, the low hum of his laugh when something on-screen amused him, the warmth radiating from him - it was like he’d been plucked straight from her dreams. And maybe he had been. Like it once had.

“You sure you don’t want to head to bed, doll?” He asked, his voice quiet but gentle, breaking through her haze.

“Not yet.” She murmured, her head resting against his shoulder. “I don’t want to move at the moment.”

“Alright.” He said with a smile, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re lucky I don’t mind having you here forever.”

She curled closer to him, as if the simple act could keep her from thinking too much. But, of course, it didn’t. Her gaze flicked to his hand resting on her knee, his fingers so gentle, so familiar. And then her thoughts drifted, unbidden, back to the basement. Back to the raincoat. Maybe she was being a bit exaggerated. Paranoid, even. But she was never good at keeping her mouth shut.

She bit her lip, her heart picking up speed. She didn’t want to ruin the moment, but the question was clawing at her insides. Finally, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Bucky?” She said softly, hesitantly.

“Hmm?” His eyes stayed on the screen, his hand stilling on her arm.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

At that, he turned to look at her, his brow furrowing slightly, though his smile stayed intact. “What’s on your mind?”

“In the basement…” Her voice wavered, and she cleared her throat to steady it. “I found a coat. A little yellow raincoat. Who does it belong to?”

The change in him was instant. His grip on her arm tightened - not enough to hurt at first, but enough to make her notice. His body stiffened against her, and though his smile didn’t immediately fade, something behind it did.

He didn’t answer. Not right away. Instead, his left hand began tapping his fingers against her leg, rhythmic and deliberate, his gaze drifting away from her and back to the television.

“Buck?” She prompted again, her voice quieter now.

Still, he said nothing. The tapping continued, a slow, unspoken signal that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

“Do you love me?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Do you love me?” He repeated, finally turning his head to meet her gaze. The smile was gone now, replaced by something completely different, something that made her stomach churn. “Because I’ve been wondering, doll. You keep questioning me. Questioning this.” His right hand gave her arm another squeeze, harder this time. “So tell me. Do you love me?”

“Of course I do.” She said quickly, her voice trembling. “You know I do.”

“Then why can’t you just trust me?” His tone was soft but charged, each word laced with a quiet intensity. “Why do you keep asking questions? Doubting me? Doubting us?”

“I’m not doubting you, Bucky.” Maybe she was. A little.

His grip on her arm loosened slightly, but it wasn’t the kind of relief she was hoping for. Instead, Bucky leaned back against the couch, his head tilting to one side as his hand fell to his own leg. His fingers began tapping against it.

“Mmh, mh, mh.” He murmured, shaking his head, like he was holding back laughter - or something else entirely.

She instinctively shifted a little further away from him, her back pressing into the armrest of the couch. The distance was small, but it didn’t go unnoticed. His sharp black button gaze flicked toward her, and the tapping stopped.

“Years.” He said suddenly, his voice flat but somehow seething underneath. “I’ve been waiting for years, doll. Patiently. Quietly. And you can’t even sew your eyes for the man you claim to love? It’s a tiny little thing.”

Her breath hitched, her heart skipping at the accusation, the venom in his words. “A tiny little thing? Do you have an idea of what you’re saying?”

“What kind of love is that?” He continued, ignoring her, his voice rising slightly, cutting through her attempt to interject. “You sit here, you say the words, but you don’t mean them, do you? I wonder if it was the same back in your world, too. You told him you loved him, but you never showed it.”

“This isn’t fair.”

“Fair?” He barked a humorless laugh, leaning forward now, his elbows on his knees. “Do you think this was fair for me? Sitting here for years, waiting for you, for this? Giving you everything you ever wanted, and you can’t even give me this one thing?”

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her jaw tightening as she fought the wave of emotions rising in her chest. “I asked you one question.” She said firmly, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. “A stupid little question, and now you’re standing here, making me out to be the problem? Because I want to know what’s going on?”

He tilted his head at her, his fingers still tapping against his leg, the sound grating on her nerves. “It’s not about the question, doll.” He said, his tone low, almost mocking. “It’s about the pattern. Always asking. Always doubting. You’re not happy unless you’re tearing everything apart to see what’s underneath. And that bothers me to no end. I hate curious little things, you remind me of a cat.”

“I told you I’m not doubting anything.” She said, stepping further back from him, her voice sharper now. “I just wanted to understand. And you’re acting like I’ve done something wrong for that. Do you even hear yourself right now? All worked up for a simple question - I just wanted an answer.”

“Well, what’s the saying?” His grin got wider. “Curiosity killed the cat. You should learn how to mind your business.”

She crossed her arms, her posture stiff but rooted, unwilling to back down. “So that’s it? You’re just going to dodge my question with some half-assed riddle? Maybe I wasn’t in the wrong for asking.”

His grin faltered then, just slightly, and his head tipped forward. He stared at her, the light catching the shiny, smooth black of his buttons. “You want to know about the coat so badly?” He said, his voice low, almost a growl. “Fine. Let’s talk about it.”

She stayed silent, her heart pounding in her chest, but her face remained steady - which surprised her.

“It was hers.” He said, his voice suddenly calm, measured. “Coraline’s. Sweet little thing. Full of hope, just like you.”

Her brow furrowed, confusion breaking through the tension. “Who’s Coraline?”

He leaned back now, letting out a long sigh. “She was the last one to walk through that door.” He said. “Her parents gave up looking for her after barely two months, then moved. I’m thankful they did, because just a couple of years later and you arrived.”

“The missing kid.” Her stomach twisted, but her expression remained firm. “You took her.”

“Of course I did. I usually only take children, they’re… better. Easier to control, easier to fool.” He let out a sharp laugh, the sound echoing in the room. “Did you really think this world existed exclusively for you? It has different shapes, and you surely were not the first to stumble across it. Hopefully not the last.”

She shook her head slowly, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “You’re not Bucky. Any version of him.” She said, her voice low and cold. Deep down, she had always felt it. It was too good to be true. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“Took you long enough to understand.”

She swallowed hard, her voice steady even as her heart pounded in her chest. “Then what sort of thing are you?”

He didn’t answer immediately, just watched her with a strange calmness, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his thigh - and that was starting to piss her off. “I’m what you’ve always needed.” He said softly, his voice almost tender.

Her stomach churned, but she didn’t back away, didn’t falter. “That’s just bullshit, not an answer. I needed Bucky.”

“And I gave it to you, didn’t I?” He countered, his tone sharp now. “You walked through that door willingly, all of them did. The kids, I mean.” He paused before continuing. “Did you think it opened for just anyone? It opened because you were starving for what I could give you. And I gave it freely, to you and the kids. I gave you him, and I can still give it to you for as long as you want. But you’re too stubborn for your own good, aren’t you?”

“I can be when you just said that a kid disappeared because of you. More than one.” Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to hold his gaze - or at least the empty, black gleam of the buttons where his eyes should have been. “What do you take in return? You create this illusion and for what?”

“Many reasons.” He tilted his head, studying her like she was an insect pinned to a board. “And I want nothing you weren’t already willing to give.” He said, his voice light, almost flippant. “You wanted to die, I wanted your soul.”

“Let’s not exaggerate.” She said sharply, though her voice wavered just enough to betray the panic simmering beneath her anger.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine!” She bit out, her tone sharp, defensive. “But it doesn’t mean I wanted to be trapped by some… thing wearing my Bucky’s face, for fuck’s sake!”

“And yet.” He said evenly, his voice infuriatingly calm. “You’re still sitting here.”

She pushed herself up from the couch in one swift motion, her movements stiff with anger and fear. “I’m leaving.”

He let out a soft snort, leaning back against the couch like he had all the time in the world. “You can’t.” He said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He gestured lazily around the room. “Once you walked through that little door, you became mine. Think of this…” He added, his hand sweeping in a slow arc. “as a spiderweb. You’re my insect, and I’m your predator.”

Her stomach churned at the analogy, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of showing her unease. “So sit, run, scream, do whatever you think will make you feel better.” He continued, his tone so calm it was maddening. “But it won’t matter. You can’t get out of here, doll. Not unless I let you. And I won’t.”

Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms to keep herself grounded. “You’re sick.”

“No.” He said, his lips curling into a smile that no longer belonged to anything human. It was too wide, too sharp, and too full of malice. “No, I’m starving.” He tilted his head, his gaze crawling over her like she was a feast laid out just for him - and not in the sense she usually liked. “And I’m going to sew those buttons onto your pretty little eyes, tie your soul to me, and I’m going to do it wearing this face. Poetic, don’t you think?” He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I usually take my true form when I feast - it’s what scares the little ones most. But you? I like you better like this. It’s going to be so good.”

Her throat tightened, and she struggled to keep her voice steady. “Then why didn’t you just do it already? If this is your plan, why wait? Why let me stay here for days?”

“Because…” He said with an exaggerated sigh, like he was explaining something painfully simple. “when you’ve spent years waiting for your next meal, you get… lonely. Bored, even. It’s called savoring. You were just so delightful to watch - so ready to believe, so desperate to be loved. I wanted to stretch it out.” His grin widened, revealing teeth that didn’t look human anymore. “But now? Now, I’m tired of waiting.”

The weight of his words hit her like a physical blow, and her legs moved before her mind caught up. She stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her own feet, before turning and rushing out of the room.

Out of the house.

She didn’t stop moving, running as fast as her legs could carry her. Her breath came out in panicked gasps, her mind a storm of denial and realization. There was no way. It was too good to be true. It had always been too good to be true, and deep down, she’d known it. But he - or whatever that thing was - had been patient, deliberate, a master manipulator. Or maybe she was just too weak, too blinded by grief, to see the truth. Both could coexist.

The woods seemed to swallow her whole as she ran in there feeling like Snow White running from the Evil Queen. She pushed forward, deeper into the darkness, her lungs burning with every step. She wasn’t even sure if he was following her.

Eventually, her legs gave out, and she collapsed against a tree, trying to catch her breath. Her chest heaved, and her ears strained for any sound of pursuit.

And then she heard it.

A soft rustle, barely audible, coming from the bushes nearby.

Her heart leapt into her throat. She was ready to move and run again, thinking it was the Other Bucky, but it wasn’t. Not this time, at least.

“Relax, lady. You’re all in one piece, I’m glad to see it.” A familiar voice said, smooth and calm.

Her eyes darted to the source, and there it was: the fucking cryptic cat, sitting primly a few feet away as if this were all a casual stroll.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She panted, clutching her chest.

“What?” The cat tilted its head, unimpressed. “I’m a friend, in case you didn’t notice.”

“What the fuck is going on?” She demanded, her voice shaky but full of anger.

The cat blinked lazily. “If you don’t get out of here soon, she’s going to eat you. That’s what’s going on.”

“She?” The word slipped out before she could stop it. “The Other Bucky is a she?”

“That’s not even your dead human in the first place.” The cat answered. “She’s not what she seems, obviously. She’s a Beldam - a witch who eats souls, usually the sad and lonely kind. That’s her thing. She gets people - or kids, mostly - to come through the little door and then…” It mimed biting into something with a disturbingly human-like smirk.

Her stomach churned. “Why?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “How did she even know about Bucky? About everything? She knew things no one else did.”

“She’s a supernatural being, lady. She’s got eyes everywhere.” The cat said, gesturing to the woods around them with a flick of its tail. “And ears. She always manages to get everything right. She spies you, that’s part of the package when you move in the Pink Palace.”

She tensed, glancing around, half-expecting to see him - or it - emerging from the shadows.

The cat sighed, exasperated. “Not now. I’d feel it if she were here. She hates cats. Can’t stand us. And believe me, the feeling’s mutual.”

Her brow furrowed. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No, no. Never said that. You’re kind of screwed.” The cat’s tone turned more serious, its blue eyes boring into hers. “But hey, you’re lucky you lasted this long. You were an easy target - grieving, lost, and desperate.” It stretched, its claws digging the ground. “She must have seen you as a feast that could last centuries.”

“She - he - whatever that is, said something about taking my soul. And my eyes. I don’t know which one is worse.” Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to ask. “But why centuries? What does sewing buttons on my eyes even do?”

The cat tilted its head. “Ties your soul to hers, you just said that. Permanently. It’ll kill you, but she gets to keep you - well, your energy, your grief. It’s what sustains her. She’s probably been starving for years, so she needs you more than ever. She’s desperate to have something. Someone.”

“He mentioned a thing or two about a certain Coraline. I saw her yellow raincoat in his basement.” She said, her voice quiet but laced with unease. “Is that really what happened to her?”

“Ah, yes, Coraline. The Beldam made her believe she escaped, but…” The cat’s ears flicked, and his voice sounded like a mix of something between disdain and melancholy. “I tried to help her as best I could. I liked that kid.” He sighed. “But I’m just a cat, and she’s the closest thing to a demon I’ve ever seen.“

“Just a cat?” She asked, incredulous. “You talk. Why do you talk?”

The cat’s blue eyes narrowed, and he started grooming himself, licking a paw with a deliberate disinterest.

“Okay, no answer. Fine. Then how come you’re in this place if he hates cats?”

He paused mid-lick, one sharp claw resting just near his mouth, then returned to his task. “A magician doesn’t reveal their tricks.” He said smoothly.

“Right.” She muttered, rolling her eyes. “So helpful. Then how do I leave? I can’t believe I’m having a conversation with an animal.” She whispered the last part. “What’s next? I’ll meet the Mad Hatter?”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.” The cat stopped grooming and looked up at her. “And to answer your question, the only way out is the way you came in. You have to crawl back through the little door-” He froze mid-sentence, his fur suddenly standing on end, every muscle in his body going rigid. His pupils narrowing to slits. “Someone’s watching us.”

Her heart dropped into her stomach. “Is it the Other Bucky?” She whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m too young to die.”

“No, it’s… definitely not the Beldam.” The cat seemed to get chill again.

“Oh, for God’s sake, you stupid c-” A woman’s voice, thankfully a familiar one, rang out, sharp and frustrated, cutting through the oppressive silence of the woods like a beacon. “Finally. I found you. Can you hear me?”

Her breath hitched, and she spun around, her eyes scanning the empty woods. “Wanda?!” She called out, her voice a mix of disbelief and desperation, as if Jesus himself had just descended.

“Who else?!” Wanda snapped, her voice laced with exasperation. “If I could, I’d slap you repeatedly for being this reckless, but unfortunately, I have to save your ass first!”

She stared at the void around her, still unable to pinpoint where the voice was coming from. “You’re yelling at me from… where? Are you in my head? What is this?”

“Does it matter?” Wanda said impatiently. “Listen. You need to get back into the house. Now.”

“Get back into the house?” She repeated incredulously, her arms crossing as though Wanda could somehow see her defiance. “Oh yeah, sure. Let me just waltz back into the murder mansion with open arms. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“Yes.” Wanda said flatly, with zero hesitation. “And since I think that, you better listen to me before you really get yourself killed. That thing - whatever it is wearing Bucky’s face - knows I’m trying to pull you out. It’s going to try to stop you. Probably in the most violent, unhinged, eye-sewing way possible. Or she’s gonna manipulate you, do not give in!”

“That’s not remotely comforting!” She said, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

“Let me finish!” Wanda said, her tone sharp. “You’re going to have to hold out long enough for me to open the door. The real door. She’s locked it tight, and I have been trying to break through for days. I’m close now, but I can’t hold her back for long so I need you to crawl in there as soon as it opens. Got it?“

The cat, who had been slinking around her feet with an air of casual disinterest, suddenly let out a small snort. Or the closest thing there was to a snort since that was still a cat. “Great plan. Perfect plan. Send the human back into the monster’s den. Nothing could go wrong.”

“Who’s that?” Wanda’s voice snapped.

“The talking cat.”

“The what? You’ve been ignoring me for months and now you found a new friend?”

“Focus!” She shouted, her voice bordering on hysteria as her pulse hammered in her ears. “Okay, okay. I go back to the house. Then what? Do I just knock on the door and say, ‘Hey, I’m ready for you to eat my soul now?’”

“You’re going to stall.” Wanda said firmly, ignoring her sarcasm. “Keep it distracted. I’ll do the hard part.”

“Distract the literal demon? Sure, I’ll just tell him a joke or two.” She said, throwing up her hands.

The cat leaped onto a nearby rock and flicked its tail, looking entirely unbothered. “Might as well. She’s got no sense of humor; could confuse her long enough for Wanda to pull her little magic trick.”

“Stop talking.” She snapped at the cat.

“Are you beefing with an anim- you know what? Not the time.” Wanda’s voice broke through again, her tone softening slightly. “I know this is insane, okay? I get that you’re scared. But trust me. You can do this. Just hold on a little longer, and I’ll pull you out. I promise.”

“Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting all of you.” She said. “You included.” She looked at the cat.

“Deal.” Wanda said, her voice tinged with relief. “I have to go now, do as I said.”

The cat yawned, stretching lazily. “I give you ten minutes before you freak out and bolt. And I’m being generous.”

“No wonder you’re a stray.” She hissed, shooting the feline a glare as she turned back to walk back to the house.

“Ouch.” The animal theatrically said.

She scoffed, heading back towards the house, perhaps slower than she normally would. After only a few steps, she turned around. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I’m not suicidal.”

She bit back a string of insults. Picking a fight with a cat wasn’t exactly her biggest priority. With a tight shake of her head, she turned on her heel and kept walking.

That was gonna be a long night.

[a-bucky-a-day]

| TALES OF SUSPENSE: HAWKEYE AND THE WINTER SOLDIER- RED LEDGER (2017) #104

By Matthew Rosenberg and Travel Foreman

[angie-likes-to-art]

Fic Recs (Marvel Edition iv)

These are in order of how recently I read them, not in favorite order. All fics are fem!reader

Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Five Six Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

First Date by @luveline

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Summary: “you take care of a sick Peter on your would be first date. later, he returns the favour and makes some promises.”

Healing by @crispychrissy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader Summary: “Tasked with examining the injured soldiers that were liberated from the Hydra factory, one sergeant in particular gives you a run for your money.”

A Guide To Rebuilding Your Life by Peter Parker by @liberty-barnes

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Summary: “After the events of NWH, Peter returns to his own universe determined to get his life back on track.”

Spider Lilies by @swimmingthroughthemilkyway

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Summary: “you give peter flowers”

Crush by @ptersparkers

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Summary: “peter has been visiting you as spider-man long enough to develop a crush on you. the problem? you have a crush on somebody else.”

Paparazzi by @lanadelreyscokewhor3 (18+ Only)

Pairing: Dark!Perv!Peter Parker x Innocent!Reader Summary: “as the outgoing, spontaneous cheerleader of the school, you arent too familiar with quieter people, such as peter parker. he sure is familiar with you though. soon, the photos and obsessions give him the courage to talk to you, which leads into his darker desires coming true.”

Best Friend’s Girl by @fqjth (18+ Only)

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x TASM!Harry Osborn x Reader Summary: “harry grows aware that his best friend has feelings for his girlfriend, confronting him one night at a party”

Our Girl by @spider-stark

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x TASM!Harry Osborn x Reader Summary: “ You're forced into attending a gala with Peter and Harry, where your best friends unintentionally plant a tempting idea in your head.”

5 Times There Was Only One Bed (and the one time there were two beds) by @mrs-elsie-barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: “Whether it's on a mission, a work event or a holiday, your sleeping arrangements never seem to work out as planned. It doesn't really bother you until...it does. Confronted with a night sleeping apart, you and Bucky finally talk.”

Past Life by @thinkinnonsensee (18+ Only)

Pairing: dofp!Logan Howlett x mutant!Reader Summary: Logan meets his wife in the past, long before they would meet in his timeline.

Nasty Dog by @not-neverland06 (18+ Only)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant!Reader Summary: “You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same”

Knuckle Velvet by @ohcaptains (18+ Only)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader Summary: “he walks you home, then lets himself in.”

Patience Wears Thin by @reidsworld (18+ Only)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader Summary: “Logan’s flirty behaviour has you thinking he’s just being sarcastic. But when his attitude changes and his grumpiness intensifies, leading to him avoiding you, you confront him, only for him to finally snap.”

Like a Moth to a Flame by @wannabespacesmuggler

Pairing: Lumberjack!Logan Howlett x Bartender!Reader Summary: “Logan Howlett is a dangerous man; at least, that's what he wants you to think when he first meets you during your shift at Lucky's. However, he only seems to prove the opposite as he becomes a more constant presence in your life. After learning his true identity in a dark back alley, he's certain you want nothing to do with him. But against your better judgment, you're drawn to him like a moth to a flame.”

[thinking1bee]

Bestieeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Ugh you’ve done it again!

I think that anyone that doesn’t have access to this, to comfort in any of its forms, or even just to have someone that checks on them, should read this. This was so soft and comforting and I love the way this made me feel reading it.

It’s hard living with a mental illness. It takes a lot and I mean that literally. It takes. It takes and takes and takes even when you have nothing left to give. Unless you have neurodivergence, no one truly understands what’s it’s like to have to constantly sacrifice for it unwillingly, and to read that someone still would want you, love you, appreciate you, help you, be there for you…it’s healing. It’s nice to have someone show up for you like this, to not have to save or be a savior, but just to be there. So often, there’s so many of us that are drowning in plain sight and we don’t have help. We don’t have anyone that gives a damn, and of course, Bucky has our backs and we have his love. ❤️.

You’ve outdone yourself again honey! Thank you for making another masterpiece and sharing it with us!

Whatever You Need

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

Summary: (3.3k) Bucky comforts you during a rough time. 

Background: Reworking of this snippet. It’s been a rough few weeks (for a lot of folks, I’m sure) and I couldn’t stop thinking about this one. To everyone who struggles with their mental health, please be kind to yourself. 

Warnings: 18+ Only. Mention of insomnia, depression, anxiety. Angst. Fluff. Attempt at a bit of humor? Soft and sweet Bucky. Established relationship. Pet names (sweetheart, doll). Non-sexual nudity & touching. Kissing. Cuddling. Brief mention of/alluding to past sexual intimacy.

---------------------------

You sit by the open window, breathing in the heavy scent of the steady rain, listening to the thunder getting closer. You should be in bed, with Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, snuggling you back to sleep. But, you can’t seem to make yourself go.

It’s been weeks of this. Insomnia. Depression. Anxiety. Every day, things feel just a bit more hopeless, like you’re barely treading water, surely to go under at any moment. Rationally, you know this will pass, as it always does, you just have to wait it out and hope you don’t drown in the meantime. 

The closer the storm gets, the more anxious you feel. As if the energy of the weather is triggering your fight or flight response. You push open the window a bit more and scoot closer to the screen, imagining yourself out in the storm, getting soaked to the bone. At least then you’d have a reason for the way your body is currently shaking.

“Sweetheart,” the tenderness of Bucky’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you glance over to find him watching you from the doorway. You have no idea how long he’s been standing there, wearing just his underwear and an obvious look of concern on his face.

You let out a heavy sigh and bite back the unnecessary apology, turning your attention back to the storm, a wave of guilt making your stomach flip. Bucky’s done everything he can to be patient with you, and never once has he made you feel like you’re a burden, but it’s taken an obvious toll on your relationship. The way you’ve kept him at arm’s length, scared to let him see how much you’re really struggling.

Your racing thoughts are interrupted again when Bucky comes closer, now barely a foot from the window nook where you sit. “I just wanna take care of you.” You turn your head to watch him slowly crouch down next to the seat, never once taking his eyes off you, a soft smile on his face. “It’s okay if you don’t want me to.”

You immediately shake your head, needing him to understand it’s not about that. Your mouth opens, the words on the tip of your tongue, but nothing comes out. This is how it’s been for weeks. Words desperately trying to claw their way out, only to get stuck in your throat with no escape. 

The frustration easily builds, fresh tears pricking your eyes, and you look away again, letting out a shuddering breath. Bucky should just give up on you. Leave you to wallow in self-pity and loneliness. He never will though, no matter how much you think you might deserve it.

“It’s also okay if you do want me to,” he continues, his hand slowly reaching out towards you, the tips of his fingers ghosting over the blanket wrapped around you, waiting for permission to touch you. 

Bucky sees you, understands you in ways no one ever has. Your independence is your shield, something you’ve carefully cultivated. You’ve handled everything that life’s thrown at you on your own, and relying on someone else doesn’t come easy. It has absolutely nothing to do with him, but he can still be there for you, if you’ll let him. 

“It’s okay if you need me to take care of you.”

His gentle assurance breaks your resolve, the tears currently blurring your vision spilling over your lashes, and the only thing you can do is bury your face in your hands, trying to hide from him. Bucky’s not one to give up so easily, choosing to join you, taking a spot on the edge of the seat instead of breaking the physical distance, his hand now inches from your sock-covered foot.

“You don’t have to look at me,” he promises, letting the words process before he continues, “I just want you to listen, okay? Can you do that, please?” 

All you can manage is a slight nod as you try to stifle a sniffle, your breaths uneven, willing yourself to stop the fresh tears threatening to build. 

No matter how many times you’ve been down this road - both alone and together - it never seems to get easier. Especially when Bucky’s male ego tells him he’s supposed to fix this, that it’s his job to put you back together and all you have to do is let him.

It’s a ridiculous notion, one he does his best to ignore, choosing instead to tell you, “I know it’s scary to admit you’re not okay, especially when you’re still trying to figure out what’s happening inside your own head. So, I’m not expecting you to have the energy to talk about anything tonight, I just want you to know that whatever you need from me, you have it sweetheart, even if you’re never able to tell me what’s going on.”

You try to fight through the rush of emotions, his words bringing a fresh wave of tears, your body aching for his comfort. You’re so tired of being strong, of forcing yourself to power through, pretending it’s not as bad as it seems. Bucky’s your one safe place in this chaotic world and for a fleeting moment, you have the courage to bridge the gap, the tension in your shoulders easing just a bit as you let your hand drop towards him.

He takes it for what it is, catching your hand before it can fall to his thigh and brings your palm to his lips, placing a sweet kiss right in the center. At the feel of your pulse fluttering from his simple touch, Bucky’s smile grows and he’s encouraging you closer with a soft, “co’mere,” his metal hand sliding along the outside of your arm to help guide you.

Pulling you into his lap, your soft curves molding perfectly to the harder planes of his body, Bucky wraps you up in his warm embrace, cradling your head against his shoulder. Your tears come more freely now and for a while, you just sit there, listening to the steady heartbeat of the man you’re lucky to call yours, the sound a gentle reminder that you’re not alone, regardless of what your brain tries to convince you of sometimes.

It’s not until your breath begins to even out, your sniffles slowly subsiding, that Bucky softly breaks the silence to ask you, “How do ya feel about a bath, sweetheart?”

A soft noise of protest comes out muffled against his skin, your arms tightening around his torso, content to just stay here as long as he’ll let you. Still, you can’t help asking, “is this your way of saying I smell?” It hasn’t been that long since you forced yourself to shower.

Bucky’s laughter gently shakes your body, your own smile building in return and he wastes no time in nuzzling your hair, his head dipping to dramatically sniff along your jaw and neck. “Nope,” he says matter-of-factly, meeting your gaze with a grin before repeating the action along the other side, drawing an unmistakable laugh from you. “You smell just as good as you always do,” he promises with a tender kiss right below your ear. “But, a bath might make you feel a little better.”

There are a multitude of reasons to say no - the energy it takes just to get in, the stark contrast of the cool air after getting out, having to dry off every inch of your skin before you can even think about getting into bed, just to name a few. All it takes is one look at Bucky and you’re realizing none of them matter because he already knows. 

His assurance that you won’t have to lift a finger comes quick, reminding you that he’s here to take care of you, in whatever way you need. He’ll even carry you, if you’ll let him.

To both of your surprise, it doesn’t take much for you to agree and the moment you do, Bucky seeks permission to kiss you, showing his appreciation, murmuring words of adoration against your lips. He takes a moment to savor the intimate connection, silently thanking the universe for bringing you to him, for allowing him the privilege of loving you.

He drops you off in the bedroom, resecuring the blanket still wrapped around your body, convincing you to rest in bed while he draws a bath. Once he’s gone, you actually start to doze off, snuggled with Bucky’s pillow, the distant thrum of the bathtub filling a nice break from the near constant rush of thoughts trying to occupy your mind.

When he returns, the vision of you resting peacefully is almost enough for him to break his promise to wake you. He’d happily sit watch, keep an eye on you for the rest of the night to ensure your sleep went undisturbed.

It’s the last thing you’d want though. You’d wake disoriented, feeling constricted in your clothing, worse off than you were when you fell asleep. 

With a heavy sigh, Bucky shakes his head, a regretful smile crossing his face as he reaches out to stroke your cheek with the back of his fingers. “You ready?”

His voice is barely audible, your mind not comprehending his touch until his beard is tickling your nose, his lips brushing against your forehead. Your response comes in the form of a confused grunt, your face scrunched, hands reaching up to touch him.

“The bath’s ready,” he explains, his smile evident in his tone, giving you one last lingering kiss before pulling back. “Are you ready, or do ya wanna rest a bit longer?”

It’d be easy to just stay here, let Bucky undress you and put you under the covers, your body craving rest. It won’t last though. You’ll start to get restless, toss and turn in hopes of finding a better position, all the while your mind will refuse to quiet, growing more on edge until you’re forced out of bed yet again.

A bath isn’t a cure-all, and maybe it won’t really help, but you owe it to yourself to at least try. To let yourself be vulnerable, no matter how scary it feels. 

Bucky effortlessly carries you from bed into the dimly lit bathroom, the heater already keeping the room relatively warm, ready to be adjusted when it’s time to get out. After setting you on your feet next to the tub, he gives you another reassuring smile and starts to undress you, careful not to snag your shirt on your hair.

You have to close your eyes when he kneels to remove your sweatpants, your body fighting the urge to take over and do it yourself. It’s far from the first time Bucky’s undressed you - and it certainly won’t be the last - it’s just not usually under these circumstances. 

The lingering tension starts to fade when he looks up, his obvious love for you shining through even your most persistent insecurities. Once he’s freed you of the rest of your clothes, he helps you in, the oversized tub providing more than enough space for you to sink down, the water coming up to your chest.

Bucky takes his time, giving you a minute to adjust to the heat of the water while he gathers the necessary supplies, the bath pillow already secure behind your head. All you can do is watch him, your throat tight with emotion, tears starting to prick your eyes, the nagging voice in your head trying to convince you that you don’t deserve someone like him.

Biting back the urge to tell him what’s going through your mind, you blink back the tears, your eyes cast to the ceiling for a brief moment. He gives you more time than necessary, his focus on dipping the fresh washcloth in the water, then reaching for the body wash to pour a generous amount.

Seeing him preparing to bathe you makes the moment fully come into view and a soft, incredulous laugh leaves you, “are we really doing this?” You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so naked and exposed, despite all the sinful things you’ve let this man do to you.

Bucky’s grin does wonders for your anxiety, as does his soft assurance of, “not if you don’t think it’ll help.” He tilts his head, holding your gaze, ensuring you hear his next words, “But, if it’s because you think I don’t wanna do this, or I’m not gonna enjoy every single second of it? Doll, come on, this is me.” 

His words cause another exhale of a laugh and a blush spreads across your cheeks, Bucky’s smiling growing wider, his tongue peaking out to tease along his bottom lip. 

“I’m getting to take care of you, be near you, touch you. I live for this shit,” he laughs, his brows raised to drive home his point. “I’m obsessed with you, remember? I’d literally drink your bath water.”

You barely have time to react before he’s leaning forward, having every intention to prove it to you. Your wet hands reach out just in time to push against his head and shoulder before his face gets any closer to the water, a loud laugh spilling out of you, “What- Stop, Bucky, oh my god!”

His laughter joins yours and he allows you to turn his head at the last moment, taking the opportunity to close the distance to share a kiss, Bucky smiling against your lips. You can’t resist keeping your hands on him, the water dripping down his bare torso, but he doesn’t seem to mind, his own hand reaching out to cup your jaw.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he promises, peppering kisses across your cheeks and forehead, ending with one on the tip of your nose. Once he’s sure your worries and insecurities are starting to fade, he reaches for the washcloth again, telling you, “Now, just relax and let me take care of my girl, okay?”

A playful roll of your eyes and a smile you don’t even try to hide as you tell him, “fine,” begrudgingly doing as requested. Bucky takes it in stride, his smile never faltering, happily reaching for your arm to start taking care of you in one of the few ways you’ve let him recently.

He can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity, taking his time to bathe you, massaging your muscles in the process, his movements smooth along your soap-slicked skin. By the time he’s given each limb equal attention, you’re putty in his hands and you make no objections when the washcloth dips under the water to wash your stomach and hips.

Your eyes remain closed for the most part, Bucky’s occasional glance telling him you’re enjoying this far more than you anticipated. He makes a mental note to convince you to make this a regular thing, not just when you’re going through a rough time. You deserve to be pampered every day, but he’ll settle for at least once a month.

Not missing how careful Bucky is as he moves higher, the washcloth not lingering on your breasts any longer than necessary, you finally open your eyes, blinking slowly up at him. He meets your gaze with a soft smile as he starts to wash your collarbone, the warm water calling you to sink lower, as if it might erase the clinging numbness that refuses to dissipate. 

The words tumble out of you before you can overthink them, your question catching Bucky off guard, his hand stilling on the edge of the tub. “What if I never get better?”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs with a slight shake of his head, his brow furrowing to  match the frown beginning to appear. Your mouth opens to respond, the words failing you before they can even form, wishing you could rewind time to prevent the worried look on his face.

He breaks the silence before you have to, offering you an empathetic smile as he asks, “Can I get in with you?” It’s the last thing you’re expecting as a response and it catches you off guard in such a way that your mind stops racing long enough to scoot forward, making room for him.

There’s no time to waste, Bucky quickly discarding his underwear in order to join you, the oversized tub giving him space to sit behind you, pulling you back against his chest. With his arms wrapped protectively around you, he kisses your shoulder, rubbing his beard along your skin in hopes to ground you, “This isn’t going to last forever. Eventually, something’s gonna shift and you’ll start to feel better.”

Bucky’s not wrong. What you’re experiencing right now, regardless of how long it’s lasted, won't be forever and things will go back to normal at some point. Right now isn’t what you’re referring to though. With a heavy breath, you pull your knees up, letting the air hit your skin, goosebumps threatening to spread. “But that never lasts either.”

He can hear the emotion in your voice, the tears starting to build again, and it makes his chest ache, wishing he could ease your pain. “Maybe not,” he agrees, keeping his tone gentle, “but that’s okay. It’s all part of being human, sweetheart. We have good days, and we have bad days, and no, I’m not keeping score.”

An exhale of a laugh leaves you at the same time a tear escapes your lashes, causing you to automatically wipe it away, your wet hand leaving several drops of water in its place. Bucky gives you the space to collect yourself, using the opportunity to grab the washcloth and bodywash again, determined to complete his mission of bathing you.

You welcome the distraction, leaning forward to give him better access, his fingers soon working out the tension in your back. Your delicate mental state leaves you vulnerable, Bucky’s touch sending you further down the rabbit hole of negative thoughts, the once receding emotions returning tenfold, leaving you crying.

“You deserve better than this.”

“Hey,” Bucky soothes, gathering you in his arms to pull you flush against his body, your weight welcome on his lap, your face pressed against his neck, tears mixing with the water. “There is no one out there better for me than you,” he promises. “You’re it for me. You and your gorgeous mind and insanely hot body, and yes - all your ‘issues’,” he grins, kissing your temple.

There’s nothing you can do except sigh, your breath shuddering out of you, your hand pressed against his chest, drawing comfort from the strong beat of his heart. What he’s saying is starting to break through, reminding you what it’s like when things don’t feel so heavy. How easy it is to be loved by him when you’re not so scared of being a burden.

“I just want you to be happy,” you manage to whisper, working past the emotions trying to overwhelm you again.

“Good,” Bucky’s quick to respond, his fingers on your chin tilting your face up to meet his warm gaze. “‘Cause that’s exactly how you make me feel.” He can’t help but shake his head at you, his smile growing, as if you don’t realize how ridiculous you’re being, “Every day you make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world. Nothing is ever going to change that. Got it?”

Another heavy breath, and a tear that Bucky casually wipes away, but this time it’s accompanied by a twitch of a smile, the waves of anxiety starting to recede. “Got it,” you whisper, meeting him halfway for a kiss, solidifying your devotion to each other, your promise to work as a team to get through whatever comes, without pushing the other too far out of your comfort zone.

It’ll take time, and it won’t be perfect, but at least you’ll have the rest of your lives to keep trying.

---------------------------

Comments and reblogs very much appreciated!! 🩶

Main Masterlist

[simplyholl]

Filthy

Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

See my Masterlist Here

"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.

You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didn’t blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.

That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.

You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.

Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.

The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.

One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.

He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.

You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."

Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"

Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.

You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.

"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.

Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.

He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.

He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.

You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.

"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.

"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.

His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.

His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.

You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.

He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.

He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.

He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.

His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.

His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.

His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.

He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.

He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.

His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.

You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.

You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.

Tags in the comments! ❤️

[benzobucky]

OH MY GOD??????

THEY WERE GATEKEEPING IT FOR 10 YEARS

[arpicityandneed]

Give it Up Pt. 1

18+ Dark Content. f!reader. step brother!Bucky. college student reader.

~

Dear Diary, Is it bad that I had that dream again? Fuck its been going on for years but it still makes me wake up wet and aching to be ruined. Its always the same. He sneaks into my room to find me touching myself (I'm always touching myself before bed every night lets be real) and just locks the door before coming over to move my hand away. "No touching my pussy without permission, sis. Do I make myself fucking clear?" "Yes." Every time he teases me, circling my clit light enough that I can't cum. "Yes, what?" No matter how guilty it makes me it also makes me want to cum so hard. "I won't touch your pussy big brother."

"Bucky!! Mom said she found more gift wrap, you can leave it." Bucky nearly jumps out of his skin, tearing his gaze away from the raunchy words in your neat handwriting. You'd filled page after page and the diary was nearly full. You liked free use, roleplay where he blackmailed you into being his slut, humiliation play, anal.. the more he flipped through the pages the harder he got.

"Bucky!! Did you hear me?" You called again, sounding so sweet and innocent like you usually do. Except now he knew the truth.

Innocent my ass.

"Yeah sis, I heard ya!" He called back tucking the book back into its hiding place behind the towels in the hallway closet.

When he came back into the living room you were on your knees, arranging the presents under the tree and looking every inch like the casual college student. But now that he knew what was really going on in that head of yours? He couldn't stop looking for outward signs of your perversion.

"Something on my face?" You asked when you noticed your brother staring at you with a weird intensity.

All Bucky could think about was painting your face with his cum in response. He had to shake himself before he could smile somewhat normally.

"Nothing. So about the tree.."

~

He never caught you writing in the diary, but new pages kept showing up every few days when he checked the closet. So he started to plan. Because there was no way he was going to be able to rest, your words had invaded his dreams.

Every spare moment was spent jacking his cock until he blew his load all over his fist, thinking of you and your filthy fucking fantasies. You'd written that you were technically still a virgin since you didn't think all your toys counted. The thought of you fucking your own ass with a fake cock usually is what got Bucky off more often than not. It agonized him wondering which hole to fuck first. Because he knew your pussy would be heaven too. Had to be attached to such a wicked girl.

If he was going to be tormented by this then you were too.

It started small, little touches that you wouldn't bat an eye over. Hands on your hips to help you reach the top of the tree, tucking a curl behind your ear, a kiss to the top of the head.

But then he ramped it up, a hand a little too high on your thigh until you were squirming and making excuses to move. A slap to your ass with a joking grin and a distracting question to leave you flustered and flushed. Lingering a second too long after kissing your cheek before pulling away and acting like nothing happened.

It was slight, but he could see it now. The faraway look in your eye and the way your thighs clenched together every time. You were lost in your own head thinking something depraved and god he needed his hands on you for real.

~

Christmas Eve was the last straw. You had a party to go to, something with some asshole called Walker who Bucky didn't know but didn't like on principle. But when he saw how you were dressed? A deep green excuse of a dress wrapped around your body like it was molded to your curves, and stopped mid thigh. Your tits were nearly spilling out before you quickly covered up with a jacket when your mom came closer.

"I'll drive you." Bucky said close enough in earshot of your parents that your mom agreed instantly, just like he'd wanted.

"But mom, its a date, why would you do that to me?" You whined. But your mother just smiled brightly at you.

"Keep complaining I'll have him pick you up too." You groaned and glared at Bucky playfully, mumbling as you walked outside. "Lets go then."

~

Bucky's car smelt like him, and the leather seats seemed to hug you back. It was always too intimate for you and you hated that he was clearly enjoying himself.

"You didn't have to say it so damned loud. You know how she gets." You complained as he blasted the heat before starting to drive, just snorting at you.

"Who knows if this guy is even worthy of you sis? It's my job to protect that pretty little pussy of yours." He spoke casually, but the way his eyes cut to yours was boldly intentional before he turned his attention back to the road was hard to misunderstand. This was him making a move.

"Bucky! What- you can't just-" You spluttered completely caught off guard.

"Can't just what? Talk about your pussy? You talk about my dick enough in that black book you keep in the closet." And just like that you were throbbing between your legs from being caught, the embarrassment making your clit throb along to your heartbeat. All the previous teasing touches flooded your brain, and you groaned as you hung your head in embarrassment. Had you really not noticed the way he'd been hunting you?

"We're gonna make a quick stop before your party sis. Gotta give your gift." His words were a purr, and you would later deny you ever whimpered from his voice alone.

"You better not give it up to any guy but me unless I say its alright, you got that? Can't just have you spreading your legs for anyone I don't approve of. You're my little sister and its my job to protect you" He continued to give you the big brother lecture, twisted as it was. And as much as you hated it, since you knew the bastard was doing it on purpose just to highlight how taboo it was for you to want him, your mind was running wild and you were drenching your panties.

You should've been ashamed of yourself, but all you wanted was for him to pull over and fuck you over the hood of his car.

~

Steve's studio apartment was practically Bucky's as well and you knew this, but still the fact that your brother had a key turning the lock without even having to stop kissing you made you realize how often he was over here.

"So this is how you dress when you're not doing the innocent college sweetheart routine." He groaned as he palmed your ass cheek through your dress, his erection pressing into your hip with no remorse. "Might have to fight Walker if he sees you in it though."

"Don't care about him," you gasped as he kissed down your throat and sucked a hickey into your skin. Every touch of his made your desire burn brighter, driving you insane like his fingers had on the drive over tracing the slit of your pussy over and over without touching your clit.

"No, you're saving yourself f'me right?" He unzipped your dress slowly, like he was unwrapping a present. Your matching black bra and panties looked sinful on you.

"Bucky," you mumbled shyly as you tried to cover yourself.

"Don't hide from me. If we're gonna do this sis, you play by my rules." His voice was rough and husky but completely serious as he watched you. And your clit throbbed from his words, your hands falling to your sides as you let him look.

"Good girl." The praise made you wanna preen under his attention. "Now take it off. All of it."

You unhooked your bra easily, watching how Bucky's eyes were locked on your tits as soon as they were free. He twirled his finger when you reached for the band of your panties so you turned and let him see exactly how much he affected you as you bent over.

The weight of his gaze threatened to break you before he even laid on a hand on you. You heard his foot steps circling you as you straightened up, trembling with anticipation. Wondering where he would touch you first.

His arm snaked around your waist before pulling you closer, his mouth sucking hot kisses up your neck.

"B-Bucky," You moaned brokenly in his arms, clinging to him like you'd always wanted to.

"You have no idea what your little book did to my brain baby. Can't stop thinking about all the ways I can ruin you, especially now that I know how much you'll like it." Bucky started walking you to the bed, never letting you out of his arms as he bite and licked and marked your throat.

Then you were airborn with a squeak bouncing on Steve's bed as a tiny box bounced with you. It was wrapped with a bow and had your name on it. "Is this?"

"Open it." Bucky started to tug off his clothes, and you were torn between finally getting to see his cock and the present in your hands. But curiousity got the best of you and you opened it, the mistletoe with a tiny bell attached jingling as you lifted it out of the box.

"You hold onto that. Drop it or shake it if you need me to stop, or something happens that you don't like." Understanding dawned on you, even as it made you clench your thighs together. "Unless you drop it, I'm not stopping. Even if you beg for a break, or make me work for it. I'll fuck what's mine."

"Bucky.." Your voice was barely above a whisper, taking in everything he'd said as finally, he unbuckled the belt of his jeans.

You closed your fist around the mistletoe tightly.

"Knew you'd like that, perv."

a/n: This is getting way too long so I'm going to save the smut for pt 2. please comment and reblog!

[pilloclock]

Donate to Congo:

Help Congo 🇨🇩 you do not need the latest iPhone yours works absolutely fine.

[tuiccim]

We're Gonna Burn

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen, Non/DubCon (because sex pollen), enemies to lovers.

Summary: When an exposure to a strange powder makes you feel as if you're burning to death, your only relief is in the person you hate the most.

A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby

We're Gonna Burn Masterlist

“What the hell was that, Barnes?” You practically yell as you push open the front door of the safe house you’d been directed to. 

“I don’t know! I’ve never seen anything like it. God, the smell!” He shakes his head.

“It’s burned into my nostrils. All I can smell is that sweet flower smell. You’ve never seen that pink powder?” You throw your things to the floor, looking around the small, remote house. 

“No, I’d tell you if I did, damnit! Why do you keep asking?” Bucky growls. 

“You’re not the most forthcoming person! Shit, I think you’ve spoken more in the last two minutes than in the three months I’ve known you! Jesus, fuck, I’ve gotta get rid of this smell. I’m so fucking hot,” your voice gets smaller as you speak. You can’t think straight but head towards the bathroom, unzipping your tac suit and pulling it from your arms as you go. You slam the door and lock it. You turn the cold water on full blast and nearly fall over in your haste to get your suit off. The frigid spray helps for a few moments and you revel in it, but soon another type of heat begins to take over. Your clit throbs and when you place your hand between your legs, your wetness coats your fingers. The shower stops bringing relief and instead, the water coursing down your body seems to only make you hornier. You give in to the need that takes hold and circle your clit. It feels amazing and it takes only a couple of minutes for your orgasm to break over you. You  bite your lip to hold in the moans, not wanting the asshat on the other side of the door to hear you. 

Your body has a moment of relief but then the heat builds again, even quicker this time. You dip your fingers inside of you in a desperate attempt to stop it. The second orgasm you managed to pull did little to help your body and your fingers keep working furiously to bring another in hope of relief. Your moans are spilling from your lips without a care now. You just need to get this to stop. You’re disturbed when the door rattles and a fist bangs loudly. 

“Open the door! I need to get in there,” Bucky bellows. 

You wanted to scream at him to go away but you could barely form words. You hated the stupid supersoldier from the moment you met him. He questioned your every turn. Whether it was about your skill, experience, or motives. He never lets you get through a single conversation without making you feel like a lesser part of the team. 

“Goddamnit, let me in!” He yells more loudly. 

Nothing your hand was doing was helping any longer. You couldn’t think straight and, before you can make a move or form a thought, the door splinters open from a kick. A very naked Bucky comes through the door and your eyes widen as you see his cock standing at attention. He steps into the spray of the cold shower and growls. His hand works his cock furiously while his other rests on the tiles. His head falls forward as he lets the cold water fall down his back. You stand behind him, your hand still between your legs. 

“Fuck, what’s happening to us?” you whimper as you lean your feverish forehead onto his back. The cool water does nothing to help but where your skin touches his tingles with relief. Abandoning all pride, you press your entire body to his and the fever seems to cool wherever you touch but your clit throbs even harder. Your cunt weeps, begging for attention.You rub yourself against him, your nipples pebbling at the contact with his back. 

With a growl, Bucky turns around and you quickly back up to press your back against the wall of the shower. He stares at you, breathing hard. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble in your haze, “I don’t know what’s happening. I’m so hot and-” 

You gasp as Bucky bends down, grabs your legs, and drags you up the tiles. You squeal and reach for any handhold as he puts your legs over his shoulders and attacks your clit with his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck!” You scream as one hand lands on the ceiling to help you balance and the other buries in his hair. His tongue swirls over your clit expertly. His hands squeeze your ass as he gorges himself on you. It doesn’t take long for you to buck your hips as you come all over his face. As he sets you down, you squeeze your thighs together but your body simply screams that it wants more. You stare at each other, breathing heavily. “It’s not working. Nothing helps,” you whimper, tears forming. It’s obvious by watching him that this is affecting him almost as much as you. His supersoldier serum must be helping him but he was burning just the same. 

Bucky sighs as he steps closer to you. He presses his forehead to yours with his eyes closed and whispers, “I think there’s only one thing that’s going to help.”

You put your arms around his neck, “Just do it!” You wrap a leg around his to encourage him and he lifts you up. He presses your back into the wall as he lines himself up with your entrance. He paused there for a second as if he was fighting himself. “Please, Barnes, please! I need it!” You can’t believe you’re begging the man you hate to fuck you but your body was demanding it and if he didn’t you were sure you would burn to death. If you had been thinking straight, you would probably prefer to burn but, at this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be filled. 

“Goddamnit,” he whispers as he presses in. Your body bows with pleasure. 

“Yes! Yes!” Your voice reverberates off the tile walls as you shout with relief. He begins to pump and your body trembles with each motion of his cock. He grabs your ass as he pounds into you and you know he’s as lost in the meeting of your bodies as you are. Your cunt flutters around him, pulling him in, begging for him to come inside of you. Your rational mind has gone completely silent and you are filled with only carnal lust. Every motion of his hips takes you higher and it’s all you want. “Don’t stop,” you grip his shoulders harder. 

“Fuck,” Bucky grunts. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to and, truth was, this was the best thing he’d felt in a long time.

“Oh, God, oh, God, I’m- yes!” You release a long, high-pitched moan as you come. Your pussy grips his cock as his hips stutter. He comes with a long moan that makes you clench around him more firmly. You stay there for a few moments, catching your breath, and blessedly your body finally starts to cool. You release your legs from around his waist and he gently sets you down. You can’t look at him and instead maneuver yourself back under the cold spray. You rinse off quickly and step out of the shower. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you exit the bathroom to find your pack and some clothes. While you rifle through your pack, you feel your temperature creeping up again and then you double over from the intense wave that rolls over you. “No, no, not again,” you whisper to yourself. You look over to the broken bathroom door where Bucky still is and consider your options. Sex had given you the relief you needed but it was short lived. Your mind runs amuck with questions. What the hell was that powder? What was it doing to you? How long would this last? How many times would it take to stop this heat from trying to burn you alive? Was sex really the only relief you would find? Another pang hit and knocked the breath from your body. You were gasping in pain when an arm picked you up around your middle. 

He was still wet from the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry off. The pains had hit him and he went to the only place he knew he could find relief. He carried you to the small bed in the house and set you down on your hands and knees. He grips your hips tightly and pauses for a moment as another rush of heat spreads over him, “I need-”

“Just do it,” your words come out in a rush, pressing back into him. 

He enters you without preamble. Pulling you back to meet each motion of his hips, his moans give evidence of the pleasure and relief that the connection brings. You reach under you to play with your clit, trying to bring your orgasm on more quickly. Each of Bucky’s swift thrusts has you crying out with pleasure and he moves your hand away to bring you to orgasm himself. He wanted to feel you clench around him as you had before. 

“Oh, fuck, just like that,” you whine, “Just like that, don’t- don’t stop, oh, fuck.”

Bucky moans as he feels your cunt flutter around his cock with your orgasm. The sounds you release are a hit straight to his cock and he comes hard, thrusting with each spurt into you. Breathing heavily, you both collapse on the bed. You lay on your side facing away from him while taking stock of your body. The relief you felt with your orgasm was short lived as heat began to build again after only a few minutes. 

You feel like crying as your body radiates waves of heat. You turn over to face Bucky. He is lying on his back, his metal arm slung over his eyes, and his right hand fisting his hard cock. You make your decision quickly. Pulling his hand away, you straddle him and guide his cock inside of you. You move your hips slowly, hoping that perhaps if you stretched out the sex, it would keep the pain at bay longer. His hands grip your thighs as you rock slowly, his head is thrown back with eyes tightly closed. You looked at him for a moment and still couldn't believe that of all the teammates this could happen with, it had to be this asshole. When you first met him, you thought he was hot as fuck but as his personality (or lack there of) reared it’s ugly head you found him less and less attractive. Your anger at the situation grew as you rode him and you found yourself leaning forward, chasing your orgasm to just get this over with. 

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky bucks up into you, causing you to cry out. He repeats the motion over and over again until your body spasms around him. He comes with a grunt as he watches your face contort with pleasure. You collapse on his chest without looking at him. You wondered if keeping your bodies connected would keep the heat from returning. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks softly. 

You sigh weakly as you felt the now familiar warmth beginning to spread, “I was hoping…” You let out a frustrated grunt, “I was hoping if we stayed touching it would be enough. But it’s starting again.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Bucky acknowledges his own heat building. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t know that,” you grouse.

“I think… I think this might be a pheromone or something Hydra created to force procreation. I heard of the experiments but they abandoned it when it didn’t produce the results they wanted.”

“Which was?” You ask as your hips make slow circles. You can feel his cock quickly hardening inside of you. 

“Naturally born supersoldiers,” Bucky strains out the words. 

“So, we’re gonna have sex until we die or what?”

“Usually wore off in a few hours but until then…” he trails off as he gots lost in the sensations. 

“Fuck,” you groan, partially out of frustration, partially from the pleasure his thick cock was producing. 

“Basically,” Bucky says and you surprise yourself by laughing at the droll comment. You are even more surprised a second later when Bucky rolls you under him. He buries his face in your neck as he pulls your leg up higher and thrusts. You throw your head back as the pleasure begins to build again. 

“Harder,” you whimper. 

Bucky complies immediately and you whimper with each stroke. Grabbing onto him, you get lost in the feeling of his cock pounding into you sharply. You were glad that he at least was decent at this. Or was it that whatever the damn contaminant was made everything feel amazing? You were getting close with the steady way he fucked you and words started to pour out of your mouth. You were usually quite vocal in bed but hadn’t wanted to give Bucky the satisfaction. Now, you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Oh, god, it’s so good. Don’t stop, right there. It’s so fucking good. Oh, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna- fuck!” You let out a loud moan as you come hard and Bucky’s hips work even faster as he nears his own end. When he comes on a broken cry, your body revels in the feeling of him emptying himself in you.

The rational side of your brain sounded far away but was still screaming at the situation. In a moment of it managing to take hold, you push Bucky off of you and roll away from him. Breathing heavily, you pray that this is over. Surely, this was enough to satisfy anything. You will yourself to stay cool, to not allow the heat to return, to hold onto any shred of sanity you can find, but despite it all, the heat built again. You felt like screaming but you knew that nothing you did would help. You turn back to Bucky and say frustratedly, “Ready for another round?” You can’t meet his eyes but you knew neither of you could handle the pain and heat. You needed each other. 

Bucky turns to you, “Hey.” He waits, wanting you to look him in the eyes but you just stare at his chest. “Hey.”

“What?” You say waspishly, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“Never mind,” he says as he grabs you and pulls your back against his chest. His cock nudges you from behind and you maneuver your hips to allow him entry. His thrusts are quick and sharp but his fingers on your clit are pure magic. He’s learned your body quickly but instead of leading you straight to orgasm this time, he works you to the precipice and then backs off repeatedly. You understood what he was trying to do. He was trying to prolong the sex in hopes of not having to come inside you any more than he already had but it was as if your body only got angrier with each denial. 

“It’s not working! Just let me come!” You finally cry out, your frustration having reached its breaking point.

“Say it,” Bucky growls.

You wrack your muddled brain trying to grasp what he wants and latch on to the only word you can find, “Please!”

“No, say my name.”

You would normally reel angrily at a command from him but the effects this powder had on you makes you compliant from need. You stutter as your tongue tries to cooperate, “B- Barnes.”

“No,” he says darkly, “Say it.”

“Bucky,” you grind the word out through your teeth. You had never once called him that. It had always been some variant of his last name. You felt even more vulnerable now.

Bucky doesn’t utter a word but he moves his hips faster and his fingers do their job. When you finally come, your whole body spasms and you scream. The sound was foreign to your ears but the orgasm just kept going. You fluttered around Bucky’s cock, milking him of cum. You stay in that position for the next two rounds of sex. Then you got on top again to give Bucky a break but this time you faced away from him. You couldn’t look at him. When you had rode him to two orgasms and yourself to utter exhaustion, he turned you on your stomach to fuck you again. You lost count of the number of times you had sex. More orgasms than you’d ever had in your life were accomplished and you didn’t have any clue how many times he came. You fucked until you both passed out. 

Waking up fourteen hours later, you felt as if you had the worst hangover you’d ever experienced. You glance at the spot Bucky had been in but he was gone. On the table by the bed was a couple of bottles of water, a protein bar, and a bottle of pain reliever. You raised your eyebrow at the items but just shrugged as you tore into all of them. You notice your pack is by the bed and you get up to put clothes on. The first thing you notice is the soreness between your legs but really your whole body hurts. You listen for a moment but don’t hear anything in the house. Peeking out the door, you see the empty living room and slip into the bathroom. You shower quickly, trying not to remember what happened in the small space just yesterday. 

You jump when a knock sounds while you are dressing. You call out, “Yes?”

“Exfil will be here in five minutes,” Bucky says through the broken door. 

“I’ll be right out,” you say. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t imagine facing him after everything. Would he act like nothing happened or gloat like the asshole he is? You wonder if you will ever be able to look him in the face again. You look at yourself, surprised that you still look the same as you did yesterday because you know you’ll never be the same again. But you didn’t have time to dwell on that. Now, you had a jet to catch.

Part 2

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